For years before the era of the bulldozers the limestone crags were scattered with what were called little ant hills - each about the size of a bowler hat. Thousands of these mad working little creatures pincushioned the little mounds which if uprooted set them darting in all directions trying to escape. The soil of the little mounds was sieved to an eggtimer fine sand and even the tiniest of dust by the ever busy ants. There could be up to a thousand little ants in the one commune and God help the unwary if by any chance a person happened to roll over one or disturbed the ants in any way. The exposed parts of the body would become needle pricked with very sore ant bites and some of the creatures would even get under garments with their nasty work.
Ant hills are scarce in the country nowadays.