"But you said, you know, that there was a lot more of odd things," replied Harry, "and Willie wants ever so much to hear them. Don't you, Willie?"
"I guess you does," retorted Willie, with a sly gesture.
Uncle Ben laughed heartily. "So it is one word for Willie, and two for yourself," he said. "But what shall I tell you about? Shall I describe that strange tree which keeps up a standing army of ants to preserve it from injury, while it in return finds the ants in food and shelter?"
"A tree!" cried Harry, with a shout of laughter. "It must be a thinking tree, then."
"I suppose so—in its way. Not just in our way, of course. One can hardly believe such things of a tree."
"I don't b'lieve it," said Willie, sturdily.
"What a born critic you are!" replied his uncle, with a quizzical look at the little doubter. "It is true, nevertheless. The tree in question is called the bull's-horn acacia. A species of ants lives upon it, and protects it from insects which would injure its foliage, such as slugs and caterpillars. But the odd thing is the mode in which the tree manages to provide for these ant soldiers."
"Is they the soldiers you kept talking 'bout?" asked Willie.
"Oh no; those were soldier ants who went out in armies, and fought battles with other ant armies, or attacked the nests of the negro ants and carried off their young to bring them up as slaves. These soldiers only fight for the good of the tree."
"Which takes care of them in return?" asked Harry.