Again, with my hunting-knife I dug a deep trench across the border of one side of the square. The ants seemed dazed at first, but rapidly adapted themselves to their new surroundings. They extended their patrol line until it embraced the entire trench; then a countless horde of yellow workers went to work, and in a day's time filled up the deep excavation level with the surrounding surface! The patrol was then reëstablished on the old line as though nothing had occurred to interrupt the ordinary routine of the colony. Before leaving the valley I dug up the nest and examined the peculiar individuals whose enforced habits give to these interesting ants the name of "honey-makers." Each one of these curious creatures was confined in a separate cell, the entrance to which was very small. Here they lived in absolute seclusion, being fed by the black workers with pollen, the nectar of flowers, tender herbs, etc.
Through some wonderful chemical process this food was turned into a delicious honey, the flavor of which (I ate of it freely) was distinctly winy and aromatic.
Apparently, they had no anal orifices, these passages probably having been obliterated. These imprisoned honey-makers were merely animated bags of honey, and were kept by the other ants solely for the purpose of furnishing a never failing supply of sweet and wholesome food.[81]
The rapidity with which these ants set to work to fill in the trench made by my hunting-knife showed that they recognized, at once, the calamity that had befallen them, and that they used rational methods in remedying the evil.
The fact that they have evolved the idea of setting aside certain members of the colony as honey-makers, and that there is a distinct recognition of a division, or divisions, in the labor of the inhabitants of the nest, evinces very high psychical development.
In a colony of Termes, or white ants, so-called, there are five kinds of individuals. First, the workers. These do all the work of the nest, collecting provisions, waiting on the queen, carrying eggs to the nurseries, feeding the young until they are old enough to care for themselves, repairing and erecting buildings, etc. Second, the nymphs. These differ in nothing from the workers, except that they have rudimentary wings. Third, the neuters. These are much less in numbers than the workers, but exceed them greatly in bulk. They have long and very large heads, armed with powerful mandibles, and are the sentinels and soldiers of the colony. These neuters are blind. Fourth and Fifth, the males and females. These are the perfect insects, capable of continuing the species. There is only one each in every separate society. They are exempted from all labor, and are the common father and mother of the community.
Termes inhabit tropical countries, and the first establishment of new colonies takes place in this way: In the evening, at the end of the dry season, the males and females, having arrived at their perfect state, emerge from their nest in countless thousands. They have two pairs of wings, and with their aid mount immediately into the air. The next morning they are found covering the ground, and deprived of their wings. They then mate. Scarcely a single pair in many millions escape their enemies—birds, reptiles, beasts, fishes, insects, especially the other ants, and even man himself. The workers, which are continually prowling about their covered ways, occasionally meet one of these pairs. They immediately salute them, render them homage, and elect them father and mother of a new colony. All other pairs not so fortunate perish.
As soon as they are chosen king and queen, or rather, father and mother, they are conducted into the nest, where the workers build around them a suitable cell, the entrances to which are large enough for themselves and the neuters or soldiers to pass through, but too small for the royal pair. Thus they remain in prison as long as they live. They are furnished with every delicacy, but are never allowed to leave their prison. The female soon begins to oviposit—the eggs, as fast as they are dropped, being carried away into the nurseries by the workers. As the queen increases in dimensions, they keep enlarging the cell in which she is confined. Her abdomen begins to extend until it is two thousand times the size of the rest of the body, and her bulk equals that of twenty thousand workers. She becomes one vast matrix of eggs. I once saw a queen which measured three and one quarter inches from one extremity of her body to the other. There is continual oviposition, the queen laying over eighty thousand eggs in twenty-four hours, or one egg every second. As these females live about two years, they will lay some sixty million eggs.
In the royal cell there are always some soldiers on guard and workers administering to the royal pair. The activity and energy of these workers is truly wonderful. In New Mexico, where I found a family of insects closely resembling true Termes, I once had an opportunity of observing this extraordinary energy. I broke off a portion of their dome-shaped nest, and in an incredibly short time they had mended the breach and restored their domicile to the same condition it was before I had molested it. If you attack a termite building and make a slight breach in its walls, the laborers immediately retire into the inmost recesses of the nest and give place to another class of its inhabitants, the warriors. Several soldiers come out to reconnoitre, they then retire and give the alarm. Then several more come out as quickly as possible, followed in a few moments by a large battalion. Their anger and fury are excessive. If you continue to molest them, their anger leaps all bounds. They rush out in myriads, and, being blind, bite everything with which they come in contact.[82] If, however, the attack is not continued, they retire into the nest, with the exception of two or three which remain outside. The workers then appear and begin to repair the damaged wall. One of the soldiers remaining outside acts as overseer and superintendent of construction. At intervals of a minute or two it will strike the wall with its mandibles, making a peculiar sound. This is answered by the workers with a loud hiss and a marked acceleration in their movements. Should these ants again be disturbed, the laborers would vanish, and the warriors would take their places, ready and willing to fight to the death in defence of their community.[82]
While it is undoubtedly true that instinct can be highly differentiated, so that in its action it seemingly approaches reason, it is also equally true that instinct, fundamentally, is but a blind impulse. The impulse to fight on the part of these soldier termites is, unquestionably, instinctive, but the psychical habitudes which originate division and partition of labor, which set apart certain individuals (in no wise different from their fellows) as officers and overseers, which, beyond peradventure, are able to incite the laborers to greater effort by commands that are clearly understood and intelligently obeyed, surely such psychical characteristics cannot be embraced in the category of instinctive impulses—mere blind followings-out of inherited impressions!