THE DRIVER ANTS.

Temuka Leader, Issue 2761, 10 January 1895, Page 4

THE DRIVER ANTS.

All are familiar with the tales of how the armies of driver ants enter a tropical village and take entire possession of it, driving its inhabitants out in terror, and at last, in a few hours or a day or two, abandoning it cleaner than the arts of the most orderly housekeeper could ever make it. These are not travellers' tales. The most gifted pen must fail to give an adequate idea to the uninitiated of just how thorough and searching these creatures are in ridding a house of every bit of animal or vegetable matter in it. Perhaps, however, the following bit of personal experience may help to illustrate it. I had returned from a day's tramp in the hills laden with trophies in the shape of tropical insects, some of them,perhaps, new to the eye of scientists, and all of certain value, when I was called out of my house by the cry, " The driver ants! the driver ants !"

Hastily placing most of my collection in glass jars or tin boxes, so as to be out of the reach of the invaders, and gathering such clothes as I would need for a day or two, I made a rather undignified retreat. After I had done so I remembered that I had left some rare beetles pinned in a box that was left in the pocket of my collecting coat, but as the coat had beeu placed in a strong che»t, and this chest was heavily scented with naphtholin or " tar camphor," and the lid fitted down very tight, I felt that they were safe. The next morning, when I went back, after a night spent in a hammock in a tamariuda tree, I found that of a bunc i of bananas there was no trace whatever, save a dangling string with which it had been htiug from the ceiling, and not a vestige of bread, chocolate, coffee, and other eatable odds and ends could bj found on the thoroughly cleaned shelves on which some food had been left. Even the cracks between the floor-boards had been cleaned out, the particles of edible matter having beeu carried away or devoured, and the mere dust left where it could easily be swept away.

This was not so bad, for a good cleaning never hurts a house in the tropics ; but when I came to examine my chesc and found that a hole quite two inches in diameter had been torn in one end through an inch board of hard wood, that the box in my coat pocket had also been pierced and every one of the pins on which my beetles had been arranged stood in place as empty and as clean as when taken out of the paper, I had a better idea of the thoroughness of these woudrous tiny scavengers of Nature thau ever before. Lift, in the tropics is a continuous revelation, from day to day, of new wonders of animal life in all its phases.— Eugeue M. Baron.

A HOMESICK EXILE. There appeared, a few days ago, before the Central Criminal Court of St. Petersburg, an apparently well-bred man named Justin Makaroff, charged for the fourth time with escaping from Siberia, whither he was originally banished some twelve years ago. Makaroff's first and only offence was a personal encounter with the police. After serving a short term of iuiprißonmont he was sent back to his native commune, and as the latter declined to recaive him, he was, as is usual in such cases, deprived of his civil rights and sent to Siberia for life. On this occasion the judge asked him why ho did not remain jn tjje locality of his exile. Makaroff replied ; ff j| jg sp very lonely out there (in the Government of Tobolsk), your lordship. I do my be3t to make myself contented, but struggle as I will, this homesickness attacks me every three years, Jt develops slowly during the third year ? and when it becomes acute I just pack up my haversack and tramp back to St. Petersburg to see my friends. I am now at the disposal of the court." The judge appeared to sympathise with the prisoner, whose fine figure and stature waa not concealed by the ijl-flttjng grey dress of a and passed, upon him what he called a very ; ho be retransported to one C. tlie farther Siberian settlements, imprisoned for six months, and thereafter placed under police surveillance fot f-hfl rest of hii life, Makaroff bowed gracefully in acknowledgment of his sentence, and with a smile and a wave of his hand bade adieu to his friends. But the smil* seemed to imply that it was merely (i au revoir."