"The ants," he says, "did not endeavour in the least to make their escape. They seemed to want for nothing, and to be quite content. They tended their larvæ and females with the same affection they would have shown in their usual ant-hill; they took great care of the plant-lice, and never did them any harm. These, on the other hand, did not seem to fear the ants; they allowed themselves to be moved about from one place to another, and when they were set down they remained in the place chosen for them by their guardians. When the ants wished to move them to a fresh place, they began by caressing them with their antennæ, as if to request them to abandon their roots or to withdraw their trunk from the cavity in which it was inserted; then they took them gently above or below the abdomen with their jaws, and carried them with the same care they would have bestowed on the larvæ of their own species. I saw the same ant take three plant-lice in succession, each bigger than itself, and carry them away into a dark place.... However, the ants do not always act so gently towards them. When they fear that they may be carried off by ants of another kind, and living near their habitation, or when one opens up too suddenly the turf under which they are hidden, they seize them up in haste and carry them off to the bottom of their little cavern. I have seen the ants of two different ant-hills fighting for their plant-lice. When those belonging to one ants' nest could enter the nest of the others, they took them away from their rightful owners, and often these took possession of them again in their turn; for the ants know well the value of these little animals, which seem made on purpose for them,--they are the ants' treasures. An ants' nest is more or less rich, according as it is more or less stocked with plant-lice. The plant-lice are its cattle, its cows, its goats. One would never have thought that the ants were a pastoral people!"[33] [33] "Recherches," &c., pp. 192-194. Their hiding in the ants' nest is not voluntary; they are prisoners of war. The ants, after having hollowed out galleries in the midst of roots, make a foray upon the turf, and seize upon plant-lice scattered about here and there, bringing them with them, and collect them together in their nests. The captive insects take their wrongs with patience, and behave like philosophers under this new kind of life. They lavish on their masters, with the best grace in the world, the nutritious juices with which their bodies superabound. Charles Bonnet has stated some real wonders of the cleverness and industry of other ants which also make a provision of plant-lice.