“Slaves?” echoed all three.
“Yes, slaves captured in battle, and made to do the masters’ bidding.”
“Do they always obey?”
“I have watched them many times and have never seen any sign of rebellion. Frequently the superior ant, or the one who owns the slaves, will remain perfectly still and direct the little servants. In that way I saw a score of the slaves tug away at a dead bee, one day, and it was perfectly plain that a larger ant that stood near by was giving orders.”
“You say they are called foraging ants?”
“Yes. They roam about in bands like this in search of food. They are carnivorous and eat such insects as are unfortunate enough to be in their path.”
The army was fully fifteen minutes crossing the living bridge, and when the last company had passed, the slave ants detached themselves and followed. But two or three, evidently exhausted by the strain, fell from the twig into the river. No attention was given them; they were left to drown.
“Did you notice that?” said the señor. “Now watch how differently members of the superior class of ants are treated when in distress.”
He stepped ahead a few feet and drawing some of the larger species from the main body with a stick, he covered them partly with gravel, until only a leg or two were visible. At once several ants of the same species stopped their march, and summoning a small body of slave ants, went to the rescue. By butting with their heads and tugging away at the small stones the slaves soon rescued the imprisoned masters, and all rejoined the army, bringing up the rear.
“Bravo!” shouted Harvey, as if the little fellows could understand.