As an illustration of this truth here is another picture of how ants procure honey from a weaker creature that may happen to have swallowed it, when it is not to be obtained by the soft methods of persuasion. “Once upon a time,” says Dr. Lincecum, “there dwelt in my yard a flourishing colony of the very smallest species of black ant,” and having described how these Lilliputians found and ate some syrup belonging to the household, and were in consequence attacked by a larger and stronger species, he continues, “They”—that is the attacking party—“grabbed up the heavily burdened little fellows, doubled them, and biting open the abdomen, drew out the full sac, and seemed to swallow it. Then, casting the lacerated carcase aside, they furiously sprung upon another of the panic-stricken crowd and repeated the horrid operation.”[46] Clearly, then, Nature, so long as she can attain her end, cares not by what means she attains it. Independently of any feeling of comfort which the Aphides may experience in being milked by the ants, observation at once shows that they benefit largely, in a general way, by the attentions of the latter. It is not enough for the ants to milk their cows when they happen to meet them. They go very much farther than this, and cow-keeping is of as much importance with them as with us. Lucky the Aphis who has a guard of ants round it, fiery warriors prepared to defend their property against all foes. None need be feared now. Let but an Ichneumon buzz, and a dozen stalwarts start to the rescue. “I dare thee but to breathe upon my love.” “Fear not, sweet wench, they shall not touch thee, Kate, I’ll buckler thee against a million.” And so they do indeed, or against any reasonable number. But there is no combination amongst these banditti. Each comes but to eat his own Aphis, and no one thinks of helping a friend. All therefore are powerless before the organised attack of so fierce a bodyguard. Whilst the ants are with them the Aphides are quite safe, and they are often permanently guarded in this way. Other ants take even more elaborate precautions for the safety of their property, placing them in stalls, where they stand, by plastering earth, etc., about the plant on which they are feeding. Lastly, others still conduct them into their own nest, where they keep them, sometimes, in a chamber specially prepared for their reception, every necessary measure being taken for their proper nourishment, and, as one may say, comfort. Nay, the very eggs of the Aphides are tended by the ants, and hatch out in their own nurseries. Nor is it little for which they do all this, since, taking their size into consideration, the yield of these ant-cows each day must be much greater than that of our own—at least, I should imagine so.