The Raid on the Termites

lenge of

the grassy grove next the clump of trees like an enormous, inverted soup plate. Here and there tufts of grass waved on it, of a ric

cancerous growth. And inside the enigmatic thing was another world. A dark world, mysterious, h

worked with delicate care at the task of sawing into the

concentrated on his difficult job. His face, lean and tanned, was a mask of seriousness. To him, obv

t something with which to fill an idle afternoon. He puf

persisted in miscalling a termitary. Playing with bugs, that was all. Wasting his time poking into

work were interrupted by a careless layman. Besides, Dennis had brought him here rather under protest, simply feeling that it was up to a host to do a little something or other by wa

with surgeon's care, more gently-till at last a section about

red. He visibly held his breath as he prepared to flip

is glass, overtu

spite of himself by some of the scien

s, looking something like ants, dashing frenziedly this way and that as the unaccustomed light

ed. A slight heaving of earth told how the insects were blocking off the entrances to the exposed floor,

. The observation-if one could call so short a glimpse a

. His face was twisted in lines of utter despair, and thro

always like this. The only glance we're permitted is at a stampede following the wrecking of a termitary. And that tells us no more ab

e of sympathy. Good old Denny. How he took these trivial disappointments to heart. But, how odd

lf deliberately to draw him out, "why get all boiled

g about, you wouldn't dismiss the termite so casually! These 'ordinary little bugs' are

er-claw mandibles longer than the rest of their bodies put together. They have workers, who bore the tunnels and build the mounds. And they have winged ones from among which are picked new kings and queens to replace the original when they get old and useless. And all these varied form

tried,"

tries-yet dying when exposed directly to the sun. Requiring a very moist atmosphere, yet exiled to places where it doesn't rain for mont

murmured Ji

ning the subject that was his life passion. He was really thinkin

marvelous underground architecture; the something that, at will, hatches a dozen different kinds of beings from the common stock of eggs-what can it be? A sort of super-termite? A super-intellect set in the minute head of an insect, yet equal to the best brains of

unds of hardy muscle and bone; Denny wiry and slender, dark-eyed and dark-haired. The sledge-hammer and the rapier; the human bull, and the human panther; the one a student kept fit b

the study of bugs, no matter how remarkable the bug, be of benefit to the average man? What I mean is, your burning

, stopped, too. Denny's dark ey

s many times on your lion-spearing and snake-hunting jaunts, ask such

ppened to be in termite country, t

and the furnishings within, how they consume telegraph poles, railroad ties, anything wooden within reach. The termite is a ghastly menace. When they move in

"I didn't think of that a

d constantly attack and hamper its development; and climatic conditions, which bar it from the temperate zones. Now suppose, with all their intelligence and force of organization-not to mention

im, with exagg

real menace. Even in its present stage of development. And the maddening

just rewarded with. If you try to penetrate to the depths of the mystery, yards underground, by blowing up the termitary with gun powder, the only way of getting to the heart of things-you destroy the termites. Strays are seldom seen; in order, again, to avoid light and air-e

he beasts in the la

to be transparent. And they can bore their way out of any wood, or even metal, containers you try t

ged his shoulders, and sta

e to be able to do what all entomologists are wild to do-study the depths of a termite mound. God! What wouldn't

, and slapped Ho

creations, the cannibalism, the horrible but efficient slave system carried on by these blind, intelligent things in the dark depths of the subterranean cells! Lions? Supp

there was a glint, while his f

rvations having to do with termites. Holden existed, apparently, only for the thrill of pitting his brain and brawn against d

like that ..." He waved his arm violently to complete the sentence. "What a book of travel i

itary!" correcte

into the rear compartment of the roadster. "But why speak of miracles? Even if we were sent