VICIOUS ANTS

Wairarapa Times-Age, 7 June 1938, Page 9

VICIOUS ANTS

EXPERIENCES IN KENYA. A NIGHT INVASION. Somewhere in the Proverbs of Solomon, that wise old lawgiver says: “Go to the ant, thou sluggard; consider her ways, and be wise.” Which is doubtless excellent advice—where the little honey ants or the common or garden hymenopterous insects are concerned, writes Dr Emile Gromier in “Les Annales.”

But if the sluggard happens to live in Kenya, he will probably run three miles under evens to avoid the ants there. He certainly will not be a sluggard for long if he sees an anomma coming along with a nasty look in his eye. And the Kenya sluggard will be quite wise enough, usually, to run for all he is worth. Dr Gromier has this to say: If anomma ants were the size of mice, life for men and beasts would be impossible in Africa. While working in a zoological station in Kenya, I noticed, one morning, a black stream of these ants flowing past my cabin. The stream was no more than two inches wide, but it never seemed to end. Evidently the anommas were leaving their location for better hunting grounds. The workers did the moving. They carried the young, the eggs, the larvae, and their domestic animals, the aphids. Soldiers kept guard on both sides of the stream, ready to grip anything with their pincers,' which produce painful bites. When these animals arc moving, even large animals give their path a wide berth. In the evening before going to sleep, I looked for the ants again. Their stream was still flowing. I wondered how many millions of them had passed by in 24 hours.

In the middle of the night something woke me up. It was a faint, but continuous rustling. Gradually coming to consciousness, I realised that this rustling noise was all around me, even overhead. Wide awake now, I began to feel nervous. Suddenly I grasped the truth. The anommas! They had come into the house, and were climbing up my bed, with the mosquito net, the only thing separating them from the helpless prey they hoped to find.

Unable to do anything against the ants in the dark, I waited for daylight, praying that the mosquito net would hold.

At the first light of day I glanced at the net. From white it had turned black. Thousands of these nasty little beasts had locked their pinchers in it, while many others attempted to climb it from below. This made the continuous rustling sound. With the light I regained my confidence. I put on my pants and socks, which I kept at the foot of my bed to prevent ticks, snakes, and scorpions from getting iq, then made a hundred yard dash for freedom. In spite of my haste, dozens of these ants fastened to my socks and started to climb up my legs. Arrived at a safe spot, I had to pick them off one by one, drawing blood from my skin each time. Then in a few hours my men, with the help- of fire, forced the anommas away from my cabin.

Strange to say, I was not altogether sorry after the ants’ visit. They had swept the camp free from every trace of vermin in an extremely thorough fashion.