was the only ant of that nest out at the time. She went straight
in, but in a few seconds--less than half a minute--came out again
with no less than twelve friends, who trooped off with her, and
eventually tore up the dead fly, carrying it off in triumph.

Now the first ant took nothing home with her; she must therefore
somehow have made her friends understand that she had found some
food, and wanted them to come and help her to secure it. In all
such cases, however, so far as my experience goes, the ants brought
their friends, and some of my experiments indicated that they are
unable to send them.

Certain species of ants, again, make slaves of others, as Huber
first observed. If a colony of the slave-making ants is changing
the nest, a matter which is left to the discretion of the slaves,
the latter carry their mistresses to their new home. Again, if I
uncovered one of my nests of the Fuscous ant (Formica fusca), they
all began running about in search of some place of refuge. If now I
covered over one small part of the nest, after a while some ant
discovered it. In such a case, however, the brave little insect
never remained there, she came out in search of her friends, and
the first one she met she took up in her jaws, threw over her
shoulder (their way of carrying friends), and took into the covered
part; then both came out again, found two more friends and brought
them in, the same manoeuvre being repeated until the whole
community was in a place of safety. This I think says much for
their public spirit, but it seems to prove that, in F. fusca at
least, the powers of communication are but limited.

One kind of slave-making ant has become so completely dependent on