ant was at her heels, she found her terrible adversary had again
seized his big stick by one end, and had slid it over the lump of
earth by means of a stone, which served him as a point of support.
She saw him sometimes push it before him, and sometimes drag it
after him, walking backwards till he reached the flat ground, when
he pursued his way very fast.

Piccolissima, who did not forget that her mother had recommended
discretion to her, followed at a distance. As she went on carefully,
she saw long trains of ants resembling her enemy; each one of them
was charged with a burden more or less heavy. All of them took their
way towards a mountain shaped like a cone, full of little openings
which, from a distance, appeared to be semicircular vaults; Roman
architecture Piccolissima would have thought if the multiplicity of
details of little architectural ornaments, all of wood work, had not
given her the idea of an old Gothic fortress. The rapid and violent
motions of the wild mountaineers did not frighten her; she walked up
slowly, hardly touching her feet to the earth, holding her breath,
observing every thing, and she was soon convinced that this little,
busy people took no notice of her. She came nearer and nearer to the
place where two great roads, covered with ants, terminated. She
heard a confused noise, like the hum of a great city, or as the
sound of the rain among the leaves.

"I thought they spoke only by signs which they make with the arms
that come out of their heads," said Piccolissima, still going
nearer; "why, then, this noise?"

The little girl was soon convinced that this noise was produced by
the numerous and busy footsteps of a solemn, austere, and
preoccupied crowd of ants. Not a word was said, but every one ran
rather than walked, and they seemed like a thousand individuals, all
actuated by one purpose. Supported on the lower branch of a chestnut
tree, Piccolissima placed herself a little higher, but very near the
citadel, which was one living mountain.

How can we relate what she saw then? It would take volumes. There
would be as many histories as individuals. Her attention was
attracted by the perseverance of one ant who carried a burden; by
another who was striving to get over some obstacle. She saw them
feed those who arrived laden and out of breath; she saw those who
repaired the doors, who opened and shut the windows, which were not
glazed like ours; others she saw as sentinels, standing on