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- Жюль Верн
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- Стр. 232/354
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Sand
was
returning
.
"
Come
!
come
!
"
he
cried
,
in
a
voice
which
expressed
his
entire
satisfaction
.
"
The
camp
is
abandoned
?
"
asked
Tom
.
"
It
is
not
a
camp
,
"
replied
the
young
novice
;
"
it
is
not
a
village
.
They
are
ant-hills
!
"
"
Ant-hills
!
"
exclaimed
Cousin
Benedict
,
whom
that
word
aroused
.
"
Yes
,
Mr.
Benedict
,
but
ant-hills
twelve
feet
high
,
at
least
,
and
in
which
we
shall
endeavor
to
hide
ourselves
.
"
"
But
then
,
"
replied
Cousin
Benedict
,
"
those
would
be
ant-hills
of
the
warlike
termite
or
of
the
devouring
termite
.
Only
those
ingenious
insects
raise
such
monuments
,
which
the
greatest
architects
would
not
disown
.
"
"
Whether
they
be
termites
or
not
,
Mr.
Benedict
,
"
replied
Dick
Sand
,
"
we
must
dislodge
them
and
take
their
place
.
"
"
They
will
devour
us
.
They
will
be
defending
their
rights
.
"
