But it is time that we should come to their principal building, which may, with some propriety, be called a city; and, according to the method we have followed in other instances, we shall trace their labours from the commencement. We shall begin with the operations of the species which may be appropriately termed the Warrior (Termes fatalis, Linn.; T. bellicosus, Smeath.).

We must premise, that though they have been termed white ants, they do not belong to the same order of insects with our ants; yet they have a slight resemblance to ants in their form, but more in their economy. Smeathman, to whom we owe our chief knowledge of the genus, describes them as consisting of kings, queens, soldiers, and workers, and is of opinion that the workers are larvæ, the soldiers nymphæ, and the kings and queens the perfect insects. In this opinion he coincides with Sparrmann[DM] and others; but Latreille is inclined to think, from what he observed in a European species (Termes lucifugus) found near Bordeaux, that the soldiers form a distinct race, like the neuter workers among bees and ants, while the working termites are larvæ,[DN] which are furnished with strong mandibles for gnawing; when they become nymphs, the rudiments of four wings appear, which are fully developed in the perfect insects.

Termes bellicosus in the winged state.

[It is now known that the differences of form among the termites are accounted for as follows. The winged specimens are the fully developed males and females, popularly called kings and queens. These crawl to the aperture of their house and take flight, retiring to earth after a short time. When a male and female meet each other, they cast off their wings exactly as do the ants of our own country, and become the founders of a new colony. Their soldiers are undeveloped males, and the workers are undeveloped females.]

In the winged state, they migrate to form new colonies, but the greater number of them perish in a few hours, or become the prey of birds, and even of the natives, who fry them as delicacies. “I have discoursed with several gentlemen,” says Smeathman, “upon the taste of the white ants, and on comparing notes, we have always agreed that they are most delicious and delicate eating. One gentleman compared them to sugared marrow, another to sugared cream and a paste of sweet almonds.”[DO]

Mr. Smeathman’s very interesting paper affords us the most authentic materials for the further description of these wonderful insects; and we therefore continue partly to extract from, and partly to abridge, his account.

The few pairs that are so fortunate as to survive the various casualties that assail them, are usually found by workers (larvæ), which, at this season, are running continually on the surface of the ground, on the watch for them. As soon as they discover the objects of their search, they begin to protect them from their surrounding enemies, by inclosing them in a small chamber of clay, where they become the parents of a new community, and are distinguished from the other inhabitants of the nest by the title of king and queen. Instinct directs the attention of these labouring insects to the preservation of their race, in the protection of this pair and their offspring. The chamber that forms the rudiment of a new nest is contrived for their safety, but the entrances to it are too small to admit of their ever leaving it; consequently, the charge of the eggs devolves upon the labourers, who construct nurseries for their reception. These are small, irregularly-shaped chambers, placed at first round the apartment of the king and queen, and not exceeding the size of a hazel-nut; but in nests of long standing they are of great comparative magnitude, and distributed at a greater distance. The receptacles for hatching the young are all composed of wooden materials, apparently joined together with gum, and, by way of defence, cased with clay. The chamber that contains the king and queen is nearly on a level with the surface of the ground; and as the other apartments are formed about it, it is generally situated at an equal distance from the sides of the nest, and directly beneath its conical point. Those apartments which consist of nurseries and magazines of provisions, form an intricate labyrinth, being separated by small, empty chambers and galleries, which surround them, or afford a communication from one to another. This labyrinth extends on all sides to the outward shells, and reaches up within it to two-thirds or more of its height, leaving an open area above, in the middle, under the dome, which reminds the spectator of the nave of an old cathedral. Around this are raised three or four large arches, which are sometimes two or three feet high, next the front of the area, but diminish as they recede further back, and are lost amidst the innumerable chambers and nurseries behind them.

Every one of these buildings consists of two distinct parts, the exterior and the interior. The exterior is one large shell, in the manner of a dome, large and strong enough to inclose and shelter the interior from the vicissitudes of the weather, and the inhabitants from the attacks of natural or accidental enemies. It is always, therefore, much stronger than the interior building, which is the habitable part, divided, with a wonderful kind of regularity and contrivance, into an amazing number of apartments for the residence of the king and queen, and the nursing of the numerous progeny; or for magazines, which are always found well filled with stores and provisions. The hills make their first appearance above ground by a little turret or two, in the shape of sugar-loaves, which are run a foot high or more. Soon after, at some little distance, while the former are increasing in height and size, they raise others, and so go on increasing their number, and widening them at the base, till their works below are covered with these turrets, of which they always raise the highest and largest in the middle, and by filling up the intervals between each turret, collect them into one dome. They are not very curious or exact in the workmanship, except in making them very solid and strong; and when, by their joining them, the dome is completed, for which purpose the turrets answer as scaffolds, they take away the middle ones entirely, except the tops, which, joined together, make the crown of the cupola, and apply the clay to the building of the works within, or to erecting fresh turrets for the purpose of raising the hillock still higher; so that some part of the clay is probably used several times, like the boards and posts of a mason’s scaffold.

When these hills are little more than half their height, it is a common practice of the wild bulls to stand as sentinels on them, while the rest of the herd are ruminating below. They are sufficiently strong for that purpose, and at their full height answer excellently well as places of look-out; and Mr. Smeathman has been, with four more, on the top of one of these hillocks, to watch for a vessel in sight. The outward shell, or dome, is not only of use to protect and support the interior buildings from external violence and the heavy rains, but to collect and preserve a regular degree of the warmth and moisture necessary for hatching the eggs and cherishing the young. The royal chamber occupied by the king and queen appears to be, in the opinion of this little people, of the most consequence, being always situated as near the centre of the interior building as possible. It is always nearly in the shape of half an egg, or an obtuse oval, within, and may be supposed to represent a long oven. In the infant state of the colony it is but about an inch in length; but in time will be increased to six or eight inches, or more, in the clear, being always in proportion to the size of the queen, who, increasing in bulk as in age, at length requires a chamber of such dimensions.