'They will go first here and then there,' I said, according to the
position of the guide-stones.

And they would, in fact, go first here and then there, skirting my
line of pebbles, without any noticeable deviation.

Can one believe that odoriferous emanations diffused along the route
are going to last for several days? No one would dare to suggest it.
It must, therefore, be sight that directs the Amazons, sight assisted
by a memory for places. And this memory is tenacious enough to retain
the impression until the next day and later; it is scrupulously
faithful, for it guides the column by the same path as on the day
before, across the thousand irregularities of the ground.

How will the Amazon behave when the locality is unknown to her? Apart
from topographical memory, which cannot serve her here, the region in
which I imagine her being still unexplored, does the Ant possess the
Mason-bee's sense of direction, at least within modest limits, and is
she able thus to regain her Ant-hill or her marching column?

The different parts of the garden are not all visited by the marauding
legions to the same extent: the north side is exploited by preference,
doubtless because the forays in that direction are more productive.
The Amazons, therefore, generally direct their troops north of their
barracks; I seldom see them in the south. This part of the garden is,
if not wholly unknown, at least much less familiar to them than the
other. Having said that, let us observe the conduct of the strayed
Ant.

I take up my position near the Ant-hill; and, when the column returns