ice.
         --BEN JONSON.




        THE BATTLE OF THE ANTS


One day when I went out to my woodpile, or rather my pile of stumps, I
observed two large ants, the one red, the other much larger, nearly half
an inch long, and black, fiercely contending with one another. Having
once got hold, they never let go, but struggled and wrestled and rolled
on the chips incessantly. Looking farther, I was surprised to find that
the chips were covered with such combatants; that it was a war between
two races of ants, the red always pitted against the black, and
frequently two red ones to one black.

[Illustration: H. D. THOREAU]

The legions of these warriors covered all the hills and vales in my
wood-yard, and the ground was already strewn with the dead and dying,
both red and black. It was the only battle which I have ever witnessed,
the only battlefield I ever trod while the battle was raging;
internecine war: the red republicans on the one hand, and the black
imperialists on the other. On every side they were engaged in deadly
combat, yet without any noise that I could hear, and human soldiers
never fought so resolutely.

I watched a couple that were fast locked in each other’s embraces, in a
little sunny valley amid the chips, now at noonday prepared to fight
till the sun went down, or life went out. The smaller red champion had
fastened himself like a vise to his adversary’s front, and through all
the tumblings on that field, never for an instant ceased to gnaw at one
of his feelers near the root, having already caused the other to go by
the board; while the stronger black one dashed him from side to side,
and, as I saw on looking nearer, had already divested him of several of
his members.

In the meanwhile there came along a single red ant, evidently full of
excitement, who either had despatched his foe, or had not yet taken part
in the battle. He saw this unequal combat from afar,--for the blacks
were nearly twice the size of the red;--he drew near with rapid pace
till he stood on his guard within half an inch 