It was a dark and stormy night at the old scout camp nestled in the heart of Texas. Lightning crashed as the tent flaps failed miserably at keeping out the rain as gusts of wind mocked our efforts to tie down the corners of our summertime home.
“It could be worse” I said. We, at least were on a concrete pad in a bigger tent with electricity. The campers had two-person army tents on wooden platforms that the rain laughed at with reckless abandon.
2.
As I pulled my rain poncho over my head and gripped my flashlight between my teeth I went out to tie down the tent corners again.
Reaching down I accidentally put my hand in a puddle that was covered in ants like the foam on a mug of root beer.
This is when you find out that there is no way to slap a layer of ants off your hand without a a few dozen of them taking a bite of you.
I want to say that was when I realized that the ants were up to something. However I was probably saying something filthy really loudly and didn’t think about that until later.
3.
The alarm clock started fussing at me at what felt like far too early an hour. It must be mistaken. It was determined to do its duty so I obliged it with a smack. One tent mate worked in the camp kitchen so he was already gone and busy making breakfast for the staff. The other tent mate and I geumpily got dressed and shuffled towards the morning staff meeting.
4.
Clear blue sky, a breeze blowing through the tops of the oaks and juniper trees made for a pleasant walk. But I had to dodge the puddles and streams from the previous night’s storm so I was watching my step.
Strange. That’s a line of ants heading across the trail. But they’re not carrying food.
5.
Breakfast was forgotten for the moment. Briefly I thought I should get to the staff meeting but a quote from a now lost but not forgotten friend came to mind “they won’t miss us for a while, we’re not big wheels, we’re not even broken spokes”. I miss ya Hoss! Yes, that was his real and well earned knickname. Great guy.
I started following the ant procession that led away from the path.
6.
Into the brush I found myself on higher ground. Calicci dust, turned to white mud from the rain coated my hiking boots. The ants revealed their destination. In a clearing maybe six inches across, the ants deposited the husks of their lost dead from the storm.
It was an ant burial ground!
The pile was already several inches in diameter and several layers deep of ant carcasses. And the deliveries kept coming.
7.
This was odd. This was new to me. But my time was up. I could spare not another minute on my ant excursion. But I vowed to investigate further. I will find out if this is normal for fire ants. Oh yes! I will!
Maybe it is normal. Or maybe these are aliens and I stumbled across something much more sinister.
I was driving home and at the last stop sign the front of my car went beyond the sign before I stopped. The cop that was parked by the sign followed me home and gave me a warning in my driveway. I didn’t tell him that he was standing on a fire ant colony as he talked to me at my window. Don’t know if they got him. =)
Which came first?
The Queen Fire Ant or the egg?
That reminds me of back whe…
HEY! Waitaminute!
Heh.
Well, you said you had more.
The Tale of The Lost Fire Ant Burial Ground
It was a dark and stormy night at the old scout camp nestled in the heart of Texas. Lightning crashed as the tent flaps failed miserably at keeping out the rain as gusts of wind mocked our efforts to tie down the corners of our summertime home.
“It could be worse” I said. We, at least were on a concrete pad in a bigger tent with electricity. The campers had two-person army tents on wooden platforms that the rain laughed at with reckless abandon.
2.
As I pulled my rain poncho over my head and gripped my flashlight between my teeth I went out to tie down the tent corners again.
Reaching down I accidentally put my hand in a puddle that was covered in ants like the foam on a mug of root beer.
This is when you find out that there is no way to slap a layer of ants off your hand without a a few dozen of them taking a bite of you.
I want to say that was when I realized that the ants were up to something. However I was probably saying something filthy really loudly and didn’t think about that until later.
3.
The alarm clock started fussing at me at what felt like far too early an hour. It must be mistaken. It was determined to do its duty so I obliged it with a smack. One tent mate worked in the camp kitchen so he was already gone and busy making breakfast for the staff. The other tent mate and I geumpily got dressed and shuffled towards the morning staff meeting.
That’s when I noticed something strange.
4.
Clear blue sky, a breeze blowing through the tops of the oaks and juniper trees made for a pleasant walk. But I had to dodge the puddles and streams from the previous night’s storm so I was watching my step.
Strange. That’s a line of ants heading across the trail. But they’re not carrying food.
They’re carrying. Dead ants!
5.
Breakfast was forgotten for the moment. Briefly I thought I should get to the staff meeting but a quote from a now lost but not forgotten friend came to mind “they won’t miss us for a while, we’re not big wheels, we’re not even broken spokes”. I miss ya Hoss! Yes, that was his real and well earned knickname. Great guy.
I started following the ant procession that led away from the path.
6.
Into the brush I found myself on higher ground. Calicci dust, turned to white mud from the rain coated my hiking boots. The ants revealed their destination. In a clearing maybe six inches across, the ants deposited the husks of their lost dead from the storm.
It was an ant burial ground!
The pile was already several inches in diameter and several layers deep of ant carcasses. And the deliveries kept coming.
7.
This was odd. This was new to me. But my time was up. I could spare not another minute on my ant excursion. But I vowed to investigate further. I will find out if this is normal for fire ants. Oh yes! I will!
Maybe it is normal. Or maybe these are aliens and I stumbled across something much more sinister.
Next time, let them earn their name:
8.
Later I asked the guy that taught the Insect Study merit badge from the nature program area about it. “I dunno” he said.
But he couldn’t fool me. I knew better. THEY MUST HAVE GOTTEN TO HIM!
I knew then that I was through the looking glass and there was no going back.
P.s. there really was an ant burial ground that the fire ants used to clean up their mounds after heavy rain and flooding.
I saw it several times throughout the summers I worked there.
Your pal,
-Rihar
Yes but whatever really happened to the Lost Ant Colony of Roanoke? 🐜
Who’s the HR moron who hired them in the first place?!
Fire ants? Are we really that low on standard munitions?
https://youtube.com/shorts/MnMmbDKT3ec
Fire ants?
Trump:
“Ok …you’re fired! …they remind me of Capitol Hill… it’s like Loser Ant Hill to me especially the Democrat side of the ant hill.”
You want fire ants? This is how you get fire ants!
What use could fire ants be? They are way to small to hold those big hoses
I was driving home and at the last stop sign the front of my car went beyond the sign before I stopped. The cop that was parked by the sign followed me home and gave me a warning in my driveway. I didn’t tell him that he was standing on a fire ant colony as he talked to me at my window. Don’t know if they got him. =)