“Hold still,” the scout whispered rather unnecessarily. “Spiders are almost blind, so it won’t move if you don’t.”
“Thanks for the tip,” I snapped, terror making me irritable. “So how do I get out of this!?”
“I’m working on it,” the scout replied, trying to hide the quiver in her body as she studied the situation. “Please, just be patient.”
“Don’t tell me to be patient! You’re not the one stuck in a web!” Seeing her fidget in distress, I softened my tone. “Sorry, that wasn’t fair. I’m the one who ran into this web like an idiot.”
“Apologies later. Let’s get you out of there first.” She gave her antennae a swipe with her foot, the ant equivalent of a deep, cleansing breath, and eyed the closest grass blades. Spotting one in particular, she gave her jaws a click. “Got it!”
As fast as she could manage, she picked her way over to the plant and began to gnaw on the edge. At first, I feared that she would bring the spider down on herself until I noticed that none of the web strands connected to her chosen blade.
For the next minute, though it felt like an hour, the scout sawed away at the blade, using her mandibles like an old-fashioned can opener to slice a line straight across the plant’s fibers. Soon, the grass began to sway and buckle. Just then, the ant grabbed the blade to direct its fall right into the spider’s current position. The predator sensed it coming, and it quickly got out of the path as the plant crashed down, ripping a broad passage through the web in the process. Unsure of whether this intrusion came from an inanimate object or a larger carnivore, the spider erred on the side of caution and made its retreat. With the creature thus fended off, the scout yelled, “Get out! Now!”
Reaching down, I bit through the line and did just as instructed. After that, the two of us made record time leaving the clearing and getting out of the danger zone. Safe once more, I looked at the scout catching her breath beside me. “That was amazing! How did you know how to do that?”
“I’ve heard of our cousins who cut leaves for a living, and I was curious. So, I figured out their method in my spare time. Then, I discovered that cutting grass had its uses.”
I stared. Clearly, my companion was more than she seemed. “You really like to learn new things, don’t you.”
“Oh, yes!” She enthused, then lowered her tone. “Um, you won’t tell our sisters, will you? Learning skills deemed unnecessary to our duties is kind of frowned on in the nest. Even most other scouts don’t understand.”
“That’s wrong with having more skills? You just fought off a spider by yourself!”
“Shh!” The scout snatched my antenna in her mandibles, yanking it down so quickly, my head turned sideways. Thankfully, her grip was gentle, but her tone became pleading. “Please, don’t mention this to anyone! If our sisters find out I did that just to save you, my caste will be reassigned for sure!”
Pulling back, I reclaimed my appendage and rubbed it gingerly. “It’s wrong of you to save me?”
The ant’s response was incredulous. “Of course! That spider would have fed the colony for, well, hours! I should have gone back for more help so we could face the thing as one. Sure, you would have been eaten by then, but the needs of the one must come last - at least, that’s what we’re told. Instead, I put myself at risk for one sister. I just…I couldn’t let you die like that.” Her head drooped, and her body trembled in a way that strangely resembled crying. Did ants cry?
Unsure of how to take this revelation about ant thinking, I tried to comfort my rescuer. Awkwardly, I lifted a foreleg to pat her back, incidentally giving her a light grooming in the process. “Look, I, for one, am grateful you decided to help me.”
The scout only drooped lower. “I’m a terrible scout.”
“You’re better than a scout,” I said. “Where I come from, saving a friend is nothing to be ashamed of.”
She glanced up at me, her gloom giving way to curiosity. “You have an odd way of speaking, you know. What’s a friend? And what do you mean by where you come from?”
I paused. Really, I had spoken without thinking. Now what? Before, I had avoided talking about my origins, assuming she couldn’t handle it. But maybe…maybe she had earned it.