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SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

i.

R AND ITS HOM

HE BEAVE

T.

SOCIAL HABITATIONS

AND

PARASITIC NESTS

FROM “HOMES WITHOUT HANDS”

iv nie BY ‘THE

REV. J. G. WOOD, M.A, F.LS., &.

With 18 $llustrations

LONDON

LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.
AND NEW YORK: 15 EAST 16th STREET

1893

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.
SOCIAL MAMMALIA.

PAGE
The BEAVER—Its form and aquatic habits—Need for water and
means used to procure it—Quadrupedal engineering—The
dam of the Beaver—Erroneous ideas of the dam—How the
Beaver cuts timber—The Beaver in the Zoological Gardens
—Theories respecting the Beaver’s dam—How the timber is
fastened together—Form of the dam, and mode of its enlarge-
ment—Beaver-dams and coral reefs—The house or lodge of
the Beaver—Its locality and structure—Use of a subterranean
passage—How Beavers are hunted—Curious superstition—

“Les Paresseux ” : : : ; . Ir

CHAPTER ILI.
SOCIAL BIRDS.

The SocIABLE WEAVER BirD and its country—Description of
the bird—Nest of the Sociable Weaver—How begun and how
carried on—Materials of the nest—The tree on which the nest
is built, and its uses—Dimensions of the nest and disastrous
consequences—A Hottentot and a lion—Supposed object of
the social nest—Average number of inhabitants—Analogy
with Dyak houses—Enemies of the Sociable Weaver: the
monkey, the snake, and the parrakeet . r ‘ é . 18

vili

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER III.
SOCIAL INSECTS.

Arrangement of groups—Nests of PoLyBlA—Curious method

of enlargement—Structure of the nests—How concealed—
Various modes of attachment—A curious :specimen—The
Hive Brg, and its claims to notice—General listory of the
hive—Form of the cclls—The royal cell—Its structure and use
—Uses of the ordinary cells—Structure of the Bee-cell—
Economy of space—How produced—Theories of different
mathematicians — Measurement of angles —A_ logarithmic
table corrected hy the Bee-cell—The “lozenge ” a key to the
cell—How to form it—Beautiful mathematic proportions of
the lozenge—Mcthod of making the cell or a model—Con-
jectured analogy between the cell and certain crvstals—Effect
of the cell upon honey—The Hornet and its nest—Its
favourite localities—Difficulties of taking a Hornet’s nest—
Habits of the insect—Mr. Stone’s method of taking the nest
—The Syna@ca and its habitation—Beautiful nests in the
British Museum—Description of the insect—Nest of the
EvucuErra—Its external form—Curious discovery in dissec-
tion—A suspended colony—Conjectures respecting the struc-
ture—Nest from the Oxford Museum—Remarkable form of
its doors, and material of which it is made—The SMALL
ERMINE MOTH and its ravages—Its large social habitation
—General habits of the larva—Why the sparrow does not eat
them—The GOLD-TAILED Morn and its beautiful social
nest—Description of a specimen from Wiltshire—Illustration
of the theory of heat—The Brown-TAILED MorH and its
nest—Social habitations of the P:AcH and SMALL TorRTOISE-
SHELL BUTTERFLIES

CHAPTER IV.
SOCIAL INSECTS (Continued).

A curious Ant from India—Locality of its nest—Deseription of

the nest—Its material and mode of structure—A nocturnal
misadventure—The Driver ANT of Africa—Deseription of
the insect—Reason for its name—Its general habits—Destruc-
tive powers of the Driver Ant—How the insects devour

PAGH

24

CONTENTS. ix

PAGE
meat and convey it home—How they kill snakes—Native
legend of the Python—Their mode of march—Fatal effects
of the sunbeams—An extemporised arch—Method of escap-
ing from floods—Site of their habitation—Modes of destroy-
ing them—Living ladders and their structure—Method
of crossing streams—Tenacity of life—A decapitated Ant—
Mode of biting—Description of the insect—Curious nest of a
Brazilian Wasp—Weight of the nest, and method of attach-
ment—Variety of Polistes nest—Polistes aterrimus and its
singular nest—Beautiful structure of an unknown Polistes . 57

CHAPTER V.
PARASITIC NESTS.

Various Parasites—Parasitic Birds—The Cuckoo and its kin—
The Cow Birb and its nest—Size of its egg—Comparison
between the Cuckoo and the Apteryx—The Aipyornis—The
BLUE-FACED HONEY-EATER or BATIKIN—General habits of
the bird—Singular mode of nesting—The Sparrow-HAwk
and its parasitic habits—The KesTreL—Its quarrel with a
Magpie—The PuRPLE GRAKLE or Crow BLACKBIRD—Its
curious alliance with the Osprey—Wilson’s account of the
two birds—The SPARROW as a parasite—Curious behaviour
of the SToRK—Parasitic insects—The ICHNEUMON FLIEs—
The parasite of the CABBAGE CATERPILLAR—Its numbers and
mode of making its habitation—Trap-doors of the cells—The
Australian Cocoon and its parasites—The OAK-EGGER Motu
—Its cocoons and enemies —The Puss MoTH—Its remarkable
cocoon— Powerful jaws of the parasite—RuBY-TAILED FLIES
and their victims— Modes of usurpation—The Cuckoo FLIES
or Tachine—Parasites within pupee—Parasites on vegetables
—The GALL-FLIES and their home—British Galls: their
shapes, structures, and authors—Foreign Galls, and their
uses . F 3 A . . . : ¢ . 83

CHAPTER VI.
PARASITIC NESTS (Continued).

The Oak-tree, and its aptitude for nourishing Galls—CoMPouND
GALLS, or one Gall within another—The SENSITIVE GALL
of Carolina—The fungus of wine-vaults—Galls and the

B

CONTENTS.

insects which cause them—Colours of Galls—Whence derived
—The Galls of various trees and plants—The Cynips para-
sites upon an insect—Galls produced by other insects—Mr.
Rennie’s account of the BEETLE GALL of the Hawthorn—
The BEETLE GALL of the Thistle—DirTrEROUS GALL-MAKERS
—Leaf-miners and Galls—Size of the larvir of Leaf-miners—
The perfect insects and their beauty—Method of displaying the
insect--SoCIAL LEAF-MINERS—DIPTEROUS LEAF-MINERS
—Animal Galls—The CHIGOE and its habits—Its curious egg-
sac—Difficulty of extirpating it—The penalty of negligence
—The Breize Fiies and their habitationx—WURBLES and
their origin—Their influence upon cattle—The CLERUS and
its ravages among the hives—The Dritus—Its remarkable
form, and the difference between the sexes—The curious
habitation which it makes

PAGE

126

SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

CHAPTER I.
SOCIAL MAMMALIA.

The Bzaver—Its form and aquatic habits—Need for water and means
used to procure it—Quadrupedal engineering—The dam of the Beaver
—Erroneous ideas of the dam—How the Beaver cuts timber—The
Beaver in the Zoological Gardens—Theories respecting the Beaver’s
dam—How the timber is fastened together—Form of the dam, and
mode of its enlargement—Beaver-dams and coral-reefs—The house
or lodge of the Beaver—lIts locality and structure— Use of a subter-
ranean passage—How Beavers are hunted—Curious superstition—
“ Les Paresseux.”

WE will now describe the SociaL Hapirations, and give
precedence to those which are constructed by Mammalia.

Of the Social Mammalia, the Braver takes the first
rank, and is the best possible type of that group. There
are other social animals, such as the various marmots and
others; but these creatures live independently of each
other, and are only drawn together by the attraction of some
favourable locality. The Beavers, on the other hand, are not
only social by dwelling near each other, but by joining in a
work which is intended for the benefit of the community.

The form of the Beaver is sufficiently marked to indi-
cate that it is a water-loving creature, and that it is a
better swimmer than walker. The dense, close, woolly fur,

12 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

defended by a coating of long hairs, the broad, paddle-like
tail, and the well-webbed feet, are characteristics which
are at once intelligible. Water, indeed, seems to be an ab-
solute necessity for the Beaver, and it is of the utmost im-
portance to the animal that the stveam near which it lives
should not run dry. In:order to avert such a misfortune,
the Beaver is gifted with an instinct which teaches it how to
keep the water always at or about the same mark, or, at all
events, to prevent it from sinking below the requisite level.

If any modern engineer were asked how to attain such
an object, he would probably point to the nearest water-
mill, and say that the problem had there been satisfactorily
solved, a dam having been built across the stream so as
to raise the water to the requisite height, and to allow the
superfluous water to flow away. Now water is as needful
for the Beaver as for the miller, and it is a very curious
fact, that long before millers ever invented dams, or before
men ever learned to grind corn, the Beaver knew how to
make a dam and insure itself a constant supply of water.

That the Beaver does make a dam is a fact that has
long been familiar, but how it sets to work is not so well
known. Engravings representing the Beavers and their
habitations are common enough, but they are generally
untrustworthy, not having been drawn from the natural
object, but from the imagination of the artist. In most
cases the dam is represented as if it had been made after
the fashion of our time and country, a number of stakes
having been driven into the bed of the river, and smaller
branches entwined among them. ‘The projecting ends of
the stakes are neatly squared off, and altogether the work
looks exactly as if it had been executed by human hands.
One artist seems to have copied from another, so that the
error of one man has been widely perpetuated by a series
of successors.

THE BEAVER. 13

Now, in reality, the dam is made in a very different
manner, and in order to comprehend the mode of its
structure, we must watch the Beaver at work.

When the animal has fixed upon a tree which it believes
to be suitable for its purpose, it begins by sitting upright,
and with its chisel-like teeth, cutting a bold groove com-
pletely round the trunk. It then widens the groove, and
always makes it wide in exact proportion to its depth, so
that when the tree is nearly cut through, it looks some-
thing like the contracted portion of an hour-glass. When
this stage has been reached, the Beaver looks anxiously
at the tree, and views it on every side, as if desirous of
measuring the direction in which it is to fall. Having
settled this question, it goes to the opposite side of the
tree, and with two or three powerful bites cuts away the
wood, so that the tree becomes overbalanced and falls to
the ground.

This point having been reached, the animal proceeds
to cut up the fallen trunk into lengths, usually a yard or
so in length, employing a similar method of severing the
wood, In consequence of this mode of gnawing the timber,
both ends of the logs are rounded and rather pointed, as
may be seen by reference to the frontispiece. In the
Zoological Gardens may be seen many excellent examples
of timber which has been cut by the Beaver: the logs
and cut stumps which are given in the frontispiece were
sketched from those objects.

The next part of the task is, to make these logs intu
a dam. Now, whereas some persons have endeavoured
to make the Beaver a more ingenious animal than it
really is, and have accredited it with powers which only
belong to mankind, others have gone to the other ex-
treme, and have denied the existence of a regularly built
dam, saying that it is entirely accidental, and caused by

14 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

the logs that are washed down by the stream, after the
Beavers have nibbled off all the bark.

That this position is untenable is evident from the
acknowledged fact that the dam is by no means placed
at random in the stream, just where a few logs may have
happened to lodge, but is set exactly where it is wanted,
and is made so as to suit the force of the current. In
those places where the stream runs slowly, the dam is
carried straight across the river, but in those where the
water has much power, the barrier is made in a convex
shape, so as to resist the force of the rushing water.
The power of the stream can, therefore, always be in-
ferred from the shape of the dam which the Beavers
have built across it.

Some of these dams are of very great size, measuring
two or three hundred yards in length, and ten or twelve
feet in thickness, and their form exactly corresponds with
the force of the stream, being straight in some parts, and
more or less convex in others.

The dam is formed, not by forcing the ends of the
logs into the bed of the river, but by laying them hori-
zontally, and covering them with stones and earth until
they can resist the force of the water. Vast numbers of
logs are thus laid, and as fast as the water rises, fresh
materials are added, being obtained mostly from the
trunks and branches of trees which have been stripped
of their bark by the Beavers.

The reader will remember that many persons have
thought that the dam of the Beaver is only an accidental
agglomeration of loose logs and branches, without any
engineering skill on the part of the animals. There is
some truth in this statement, though the assertion is too
sweeping. For, after the Beavers have completed their
dam, it obstructs the course of the stream so completely

THE BEAVER. 15

that it intercepts all large floating objects, and every
log or branch that may happen to be thrown into the
river is arrested by the dam, and aids in increasing its
dimensions.

Mud and earth are also continually added by the
Beavers, so that in process of time the dam becomes as
firm as the land through which the river passes, and is
covered with fertile alluvium. Seeds soon make their
way to the congenial soil, and in a dam of long standing,
forest trees have been known to grow, their roots adding
to the general stability by binding together the materials.
It is well known that the fertile islands formed on coral
reefs are stocked in a similar manner. Originally, the
dam is seldom more than a yard in width where it over-
tops the water, but these unintentional additions cause a
continual increase.

The bark with which the logs were originally covered
is not all eaten by the animals, but stripped away, and
the greater part hidden under water, to serve for food in
the winter time. <A further winter provision is also made
by taking the smaller branches, diving with them to the
foundations of the dam, and carefully fastening them
among the logs. When the Beavers are hungry, they dive
to their hidden stores, pull out a few branches, carry them
on land, nibble away the bark, and drop the stripped logs
on the water, where they are soon absorbed by the dam.

We have now seen how the Beavers keep the water to
the required level, and we must next see how they make
use of it. The Beaver is essentially an aquatic mammal,
never walking when it can swim, and seldom appearing
quite at its ease upon dry land. It therefore makes its
houses close to the water, and communicating with it by
means of subterranean passages, one entrance of which
passes into the house or “ lodge,” as it is technically named,

16 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

and the other into the water, so far below the surface that
it cannot be closed by ice. It is, therefore, always possible
for the Beaver to gain access to the provision stores, and
to return to its house, without being seen from the land.

The lodges are nearly circular in form, and much re-
semble the well-known snow-houses of the Esquimaux,
being domed, and about half as high as they are wide, the
average height being three feet, and the diameter six or
seven feet. These are the interior dimensions, the ex-
terior measurement being much greater, on account of
the great thickness of the walls, which are continually
strengthened with mud and branches, so that, during the
severe frosts, they are nearly as hard as solid stone.
Each lodge will accommodate several inhabitants, whose
beds are arranged round the walls.

All these precautions are, however, useless against the
practised skill of the trappers. Even in winter time the
Beavers are not safe. The hunters strike the ice smartly,
and judge by the sound whether they are near an aper-
ture. As soon as they are satisfied, they cut away the
ice and stop up the opening, so that if the Beavers should
be alarmed, they cannot escape into the water. They then
proceed to the shore, and by repeated soundings, trace the
course of the Beavers’ subterranean passage, which is some-
times eight or ten yards in length, and by watching the
various apertures are sure to catch the inhabitants. This
is not a favourite task with the hunters, and is never under-
taken as long as they can find any other employment, for
the work is very severe, the hardships are great, and the
price which they obtain for the skins is now very small.

While they are thus engaged, they must be very care-
ful not to spill any blood, as if they do so, the rest of the
Beavers take alarm, retreat to the water, and cannot be
captured. They also have a curious superstitious notion,

THE BEAVER. 17

which leads them to remove a knee-cap from each Beaver
and to throw it into the fire. They would expect ill-luck
were they to omit this ceremony, which is wonderfully
like the custom of our fishermen of spitting into the
mouth of the first fish they catch, and on the first money
which they take in the day, “ for luck.”

Generally, the Beavers desert their huts in the summer
time, although one or two of the houses may be occupied
by a mother and her young offspring. All the old Beavers
who have no domestic ties to chain them at home, take
to the water, and swim up and down the stream at liberty,
until the month of August, when they return to their
homes. There are, also, certain individuals called by the
trappers “les paresseux,” or idlers, which do not live
in houses, and make no dam, but abide in subterranean
tunnels like those of our common water rat, to which
they are closely allied. These “ paresseux” are always
males, and it sometimes happens that several will inhabit
the same tunnel. The trapper is always pleased when he
finds the habitation of an idler, as its capture is a com-
paratively easy task.

( 18 )

CHAPTER II.
SOCIAL BIRDS.

The SoctaBLe Weaver Birp and its country —Description of the bird—
Nest of the Sociable Weaver—How begun and how carried on—
Materials of the nest—The tree on which the nest is built, and its uses
—Dimensions of the nest and disastrous consequences—A Hottentot
and a lion—Supposed object of the social nest—Average number of
inhabitants—Analogy with Dyak houses—Enemies of the Sociable
Weaver: the monkey, the snake, and the parrakeet.

WE now come to the SocraL Birps, one of which is as
pre-eminent among the feathered tribes as is the Beaver
among mammalia, This is the SociaBLe WEAVER Birp,
sometimes called the SoclaBLE GROSBEAK.

This species is allied to the Weaver Birds, and makes
a nest which is no whit inferior to the nests of the
ordinary Weaver Birds. The Sociable Weaver Bird is a
native of Southern Africa, and in some places is very
plentiful, its presence depending much upon the trees
which clothe the country. It is not a large bird, measur-
ing about five inches in length, and is very inconspicuous,
its colour being pale buff, mottled on the back with deep
brown.

The chief interest about the species is concentrated in
its nest, which is a wonderful specimen of bird architec-
ture, and attracts the attention of the most unobservant
traveller. Few persons expect to see in a tree a nest
which is large enough to shelter five or six men; and
yet that is often the case with the nest of the Sociable

THE SOCIABLE WEAVER BIRD. 19

Weaver Bird, Of course so enormous a structure is not
the work of a single pair, but, like the dam of the Beaver,
is made by the united efforts of the community. How
it is built will now be described.

SOCIABLE WEAVER BIRD.

Large as is the domicile, and capable at last of contain-
ing a vast number of parents and young, it is originally
the work of a single pair, and attains its enormous

20 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

dimensions by the labours of those birds which choose to
associate in common. ‘The first task of this Weaver Bird
is to procure a large quantity of the herb which really
seems as if made expressly for the purpose. This is a grass
with a very large, very tough, and very wiry blade, which
is known to the colonists as Booschmannie grass, probably
because it grows plentifully in that part of Southern Africa
where the Bushmen or Bosjesmans live.

They carry this grass to some suitable tree, which is
usually a species of acacia, called by the Dutch colonists
Kameel-dorn, because the giraffe, which the Dutch persist
in calling a kameel or camel, is fond of grazing on the
leaves. This is a most appropriate tree for the purpose,
as the wood is extremely hard and tough, and the branches
are therefore able to bear the great weight of the nests,
This tree is used in Southern Africa for many purposes
wherein hardness and endurance are required, such as the
axle-trees of the wooden waggons, which have to with-
stand such rough usage, the upright timbers of houses,
and the handles of tools, especially those which are in-
tended for agricultural purposes.

The birds then hang the Booschmannie grass over a
suitable branch, and by means of weaving and plaiting it,
they form a roof of some little size. Under this roof are
placed a quantity of nests, increasing in number with each
successive brood. ‘The nests are set closely together, so
that at last they look like a mass of grass pierced with
numerous holes, and it is really wonderful that the birds
should be able to find their way to their own particular
homes. To human eyes, the nests are as much alike as
the houses in a modern street, before the blinds, the flowers,
and other additions have communicated an individuality
to each dwelling ; but, notwithstanding this similarity, the
inmates glide in and out without any hesitation.

THE SOCIABLE WEAVER BIRD. a1

Although the same nest-mass is occupied for several
successive seasons, the birds refuse to build in the same
nests a second time, preferring to make a fresh domicile
for each new brood. In consequence of this custom,
when the birds have entirely filled the roofs with their
nests, they do not desert it, but enlarge the roof, and
build a second row of nests, just like the combs of a wasp’s
or hornet’s habitation.

Layer after layer is thus added, until the mass becomes
of so enormous a size that travellers have mistaken these
nests for the houses of human beings, and been grievously
disappointed when they came near enough to detect their
real character. There is a story of a Hottentot and a
lion, which will give an idea of the dimensions of these
nests. A Hottentot, who was engaged in some task, was
suddenly surprised by a lion, and instinctively made for
the nearest tree, which happened to be a kameel-dorn.
Up the tree he sprang, and finding one of the branches
occupied by the nest of the Sociable Weaver Bird, he took
refuge behind the grassy mass, and was thus concealed
from the pursuer.

The lion, in the meantime, arrived at the foot of the
tree, but could not see his intended prey. The unlucky
Hottentot, however, peeped over the nest in order to see
whether the coast was clear, and was spied by the lion,
who made a dash at the tree. The man shrank back
behind the nest, but his imprudent movement brought its
own punishment.

Knowing that the ascent of the tree was impossible,
and at the same time unwilling to leave its prey, the lion
sat down at the foot of the tree, and kept watch upon the
man. Hour after hour the lion mounted guard over its
prisoner, until thirst overpowered hunger, and the animal
was forced reluctantly to quit its post and seek for water.

22 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

The man then scrambled down the tree, and made the
best of his way homewards, little the worse for his im-
prisonment except the fright, and a skin scorched by long
exposure to the sun. The artist has introduced this little
episode into the illustration, because it enables the reader
to judge of the enormous size of the nest.

Season after season the Weaver Birds continue to add
their nests, until at last the branch is unable to endure
the weight, and comes crashing to the ground. This
accident does not often occur during the breeding months,
but mostly takes place during the rainy season, the dried
grass absorbing so much moisture, that the weight becomes
too great for the branch to bear.

The nest group which is shown in the illustration is of
medium size, as can be ascertained by its shape. In its
early state, the nest-mass is comparatively long and narrow,
spreading out by degrees as the number of nests increases,
so that at last it is as wide and as shallow as an extended
umbrella. The dimensions of some of these structures
may be gathered from the fact, that Le Vaillant counted
in one unfinished edifice, beside the deserted nests of
previous seasons, no less than three hundred and twenty
nests, each of which was occupied by a pair of birds en-
gaged in bringing up a brood of young, four or five in
number.

Those who are acquainted with Borneo and the customs
of its inhabitants, cannot fail to perceive the analogy
between these social nests of the Weaver Bird and the
“long houses” of the Dyaks, each of which houses is in
fact one entire village, sheltering a whole community
under a single roof.

The Weaver Birds have but few enemies. First, there
are the snakes, which are such determined robbers of nests,

swallowing both eggs and young; and then there are the

THE SOCIABLE WEAVER BIRD. 23

monkeys, which are capable of sad depredations whenever
they can find an opportunity. Monkeys are extremely
fond of eggs, and there is scarcely a better bribe to a
monkey, ape, or baboon, than a fresh raw egg. The bird
which laid it is almost as great a dainty, and a monkey
seems to be in the height of enjoyment if a newly-killed
bird be put into its paws. It always begins by eating
the brain, and then tears the carcass to pieces with great
deliberation. A mouse is quite as much appreciated as a
bird, provided that it has been recently killed, and that the
blood has not congealed.

However, the structure of the nest forms an insurmount-
able barrier to the snake, and the monkey can only reach
a few of the cells which are near the edge. The worst
enemies are certain little parrakeets, which are delighted
to be able to procure nests without the trouble of building
them, and which are apt to take possession of the cells
and oust the rightful owners.

( 24 )

CHAPTER IIL.
SOCIAL INSECTS.

Arrangement of groups—Nests of PoLtypra—Curious method of enlarge-
ment—Structure of the nests—How concealed—Various modes of
attachment —A curious specimen—The Hive Bex and its claims to
notice—General history of the hive—Form of the cells—The royal
cell—Its structure and use—Uses of the ordinary cells—Structure of
the Bee-cell—Economy of space—How produced—Theories of differ-
ent mathematicians—Measurement of angles—A logarithmic table
corrected by the Bee-cell--The “lozenge ” a key to the cell—How to
form it—Beautiful mathematic proportions of the lozenge—Method
of making the cell or a model—Conjectured analogy between the cell
and certain crystals—Effect of the cell upon honey—The Hornet and
its nest—Its favourite localities—Difficulties of taking a Hornet’s nest
—Habits of the insect—Mr, Stone’s method of taking the nest—The
Syna@oa and its habitation—-Beautiful nests in the British Museum
—Description of the insect—Nest of the Eucnzrra—Its external
form—Curious discovery in dissection—A suspended colony—Con-
jectures respecting the structure—Nest from the Oxford Museum—
Remarkable form of its doors, and material of which it is made—The
SMALL Ermine Mora and its ravages—Its large social habitation—
General habits of the larva—Why the sparrow does not eat them—
The Goip-TatepD Morn and its beautiful social nest—Description of
a specimen from Wiltshire—lIllustration of the theory of heat—The
Brown-TaILeD Moru and its nest—Sucial habitations of the PEAcH
and SMALL ToRTOISESHELL BUTTERFLIES.

AFTER the Social Birds come the SocraL Insects, to which
the following chapter is dedicated.

Just as the hymenoptera are chief among the pensiles
and the builders, so are they chief among the Social Insects,
and the species which may be placed in this group are so
numerous, that it will only be possible to make a selection
of a few, which seem more interesting than the others.

POLYBIA, 28

In the British Museum there are some very remarkable
nests made by hymenopterous insects belonging to the
genus Polybia, several of which are drawn in the accompany-
ing illustration. As it was desirable to include more than

POLYBIA.

one specimen, the figures are necessarily much reduced in

size. Neither the nests nor the insects, however, are of

large dimensions, and the former are so sombre in colour,
D

26 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

as well as small in size, that they would not of themselves
attract any attention. Their nests, however, are extremely
interesting, as may be seen from the examples which are
figured in the illustration.

On the left hand may be seen a nearly spherical nest,
which is evidently hollow, and has cells both on the out-
side and within the cover. These cells are not placed
vertically, with their mouths downward, like those of the
wasp and hornet, nor horizontally like those of the bee,
but are set with their mouths radiating from the centre of
the nest. Moreover, there is another curious circumstance
connected with the nest. Ifit were to be opened, it would
be seen to be composed of several concentric layers, very
much like those ivory puzzle-balls which the Chinese make
so beautifully.

The method by which the nest is formed is very simple,
though not one that is usually seen among the hymenoptera.
The layers of combs are made like hollow spheres, the
mouths of the cells being outwards, and as soon as a layer
is completed, the insects protect it from the weather by a
cover of the same material as is used for the construction
of the cells.) When they require to make a fresh layer of
cells, they do not enlarge the cover, as is the case with the
wasp and hornet, but place the new cells upon the surface
of the cover, and make a fresh cover as soon as the comb
is completed. Thus the nest increases by the addition of
concentric layers, composed alternately of comb and cover.

In the nest which is in the British Museum, the insects
have commenced several patches of comb on the outside of
the cover, and one such patch is shown in the illustration.

On the right of the globular nest is another curious
structure, also made by insects of the same genus, and
having a kind of similarity in its aspect. This nest, how-
ever, 1s very much longer in proportion to its width, and

POLYBIA. 27

being fixed throughout its length to a leaf, is not so plainly
visible as the last mentioned specimen. Indeed, when
the leaf has withered, as is the case with the object from
which the drawing was made, the dull brown of the nest
coincides so completely with the colour of the faded leaf,
that many persons would overlook it unless their attention
were specially drawn towards it.

On the extreme right of the illustration, and in the
upper corner, is seen a nest which is also the work of
insects belonging to the genus Polybia, and it is pendent
from a bough, like the habitation of the tee and
other pensile hymenoptera.

In the same collection there are many more specimens
of social nests formed by insects belonging to this genus,
two cases being quite filled with them. One is attached
to the bark of a tree, and resembles it so closely that it
seems to be made of the same substance, this similarity of
aspect being evidently intended as a preservative against
the attacks of birds and other insect-loving creatures,
which would break up the nest, and eat the immature and
tender grubs. Most of the nests are fixed to leaves, and
are different forms, according to the species which made
them. They are mostly fixed to the under sides of the leaf,
so that the weight causes the leaf to bend and to form a
natural roof above them. The shape of the nest seems to
depend much on the character of the plant to which it is
fixed. Those that are fastened to reeds are long and
slender, and generally much narrower than the sword-
shaped leaf on which they rest. Others, which are fastened
to short and broad leaves, adapt themselves so closely to
the shape of the leaf, that, if removed, they would enable
any one to conjecture the form of the leaf upon which
they had been fixed.

One such nest is very remarkable. In general form it

28 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

bears a singular resemblance to the nest of the fairy martin,
though its materials are entirely different. The nest is
flask-shaped,and its base isfastened to a leaf, which it almost
covers. The body of the nest is oval, and the entrance,
which is small, is placed at the end of a well-marked neck.
The shell of the nest is extremely thin, not in the least like
the loose, papery structure of an ordinary wasp-nest, nor the
pasteboard-like material which defends the nest of the
Chartergus. It is rather fragile, and in thickness is almost
double that of the paper on which this account is printed.

The name of the species which builds this curious nest is
Polybia sedula, and the specimen was brought from Brazil.

For many reasons the HivE BEE has been reckoned
among the Social Insects,

The Bee has always been one of the most interesting in-
sects to mankind, on account of the direct benefit which it
confers upon the human race. There are many other insects
which are in reality quite as useful to us, and indeed are
indispensable, but which we neglect because we are ignorant
of their labours. The Bee, however, furnishes two powerful
and tangible arguments in its favonr—namely, honey and
wax—and is sure, therefore, to enlist our sympathies in
its behalf.

Independently, however, of these claims to our notice,
if the Bee never made an ounce of honey—if the wax
were as useless to us as wasp-comb—if the insect were
a mere stinging creature, with a tetchy temper, it would
still deserve our admiration, on account of the wonderful
manner in which it constructs its social home, and the
method by which that home is regulated.

The accompanying illustration shows the lower part of
the interior of a hive, which is supposed to be viewed
through a plate of glass set in the back. When the hive

THE HIVE BEE. 29

is in full operation, the combs are so crowded with Bees -
that their structure can hardly be seen; but in the illus-
tration the Bees are supposed to have gone away, with
the exception of one individual.

mh)

UYSMONQUSSON0QSO0 10 0000 TSVOTDTESSSAODOTTSDOSTSO ASSAD UST SES TAOS AUT ETAT
BEE-HIVE.

I need not in this place repeat the well-known facts re-
specting the constitution of the Bees, nor describe the duties
of the Queen, Drone, and Worker Bees. Suffice it to say,
that the former is the mother as well as the queen of the

30 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

hive; that the workers are undeveloped females, which
are properly called neuters ; and that the drones are males,
which do no work, and have no stings.

In the illustration, the Queen Bee is seen walking over
the combs, and in this position she exhibits the peculiarities
of form which distinguish her from her subjects, and which
enable an experienced eye to detect her at once amid a
crowd of workers. In the Queen Bee, the abdomen is
long in proportion to its width, and the wings slightly
cross each other when closed ; the latter being a very con-
spicuous badge of sovereignty. The drones are easily
distinguished by their generally larger size, their larger
eyes, and the wide, blunt, and rounded abdomen.

The lower part of the comb, in the foreground, is formed
of cells which are closed at their mouth, and which do not
show the hexagonal shape as well as those which are yet
empty. Some of the empty cells are shown above, and the
Queen Bee is represented as making her way towards them.

There are three kinds of cell in a hive; namely, the
worker-cell, the drone-cell, and the royal-cell. Of these,
the two former are hexagonal, but can easily be distin-
guished by the greater size of the drone-cell; while the
royal-cell is totally unlike the nursery of a subject, whether
drone or worker, and is almost always placed on the edge
of a comb. One of these cells is shown in the illustration,
and may be seen on the edge of the comb in the foreground.
It is very much larger than an ordinary cell, and is built
with a lavish expenditure of wax that affords a curious con-
trast with the rigid economy observed in the structure of
the other cells, The difference of size between the worker
and drone-cells is shown in the central comb, where the
worker-cells are seen below, and the drone-cells above.

The little grub which is placed in the royal cell is not
fed with the same food which is supplied to the other Bees,

THE HIVE BEE. 31

but lives upon an entirely different diet, and which is, ap-
parently, of a more stimulating character; and it is now
well known, that ifa young grub which has been hatched in
one of the worker-cells be removed into the royal-cell, and
supplied with royal food, it becomes developed into a queen,
and, in time, is qualified to rule and populate a hive.
This remarkable provision of nature is intended to meet
a difficulty, which sometimes occurs, when the reigning
queen dies, and there is no royal larva in the cell.

Although the primary object of the Bee-cell is to serve
as a storehouse and a nursery, it also is made to answer
other purposes. When the Bee seeks repose, it almost in-
variably creeps into a cell, and buries itself deeply therein,
the whole head, thorax, and part of the abdomen being
hidden. Ifa hive be examined in the winter-time, every
cell that happens to be empty will be tenanted by a Bee ;
and when the poor insects are put to death by the absurd
and cruel plan of smothering them with the fumes of burn-
ing sulphur, they will be found to have vainly sought escape
from the suffocating vapour by forcing themselves into the
recesses of the empty cells.

Asa general fact, the Bees place the honey in the coolest
part of the hive, and the young brood in the warmest; so
that Bee-keepers are enabled to procure honeycomb of
wonderful purity by affixing glass or wooden caps to their
hives. These caps are necessarily cooler than the body
of the hive, and therein the Bees will store large quantities
of honey.

The chief point which distinguishes the comb of the Hive
Bee from that of other insects, is the manner in which the
cells are arranged in a double series. The combs of the
wasp or the hornet are single, and are arranged horizontally,
so that their cells are vertical, with the mouths downwards
and the bases upwards, the united bases forming a floor on

32 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

which the nurse wasps can walk while feeding the young
enclosed in the row of cells immediately above them.

Such, however, is not the case with the Hive Bee. As
every one knows who has seen a Bee-comb, the cells are laid
nearly horizontally, and in a double series, just as if a couple
of thimbles were laid on the table with the points touching
each other and their mouths pointing in opposite directions.
Increase the number of thimbles, and there will be a toler-
able imitation of a Bee-comb.

There is another point which must now be examined.
If the bases of the cells were to be rounded like those of the
thimbles, it is clear that they would have but little adhesion
to each other, and that a large amount of space would be
wasted. The simplest plan of obviating these defects is
evidently to square off the rounded bases, and to fill up
the ends of each cell with a hexagonal flat plate, which is
actually done by the wasp. If, however, we look at a piece
of Bee-comb, we shall find that no such arrangement is em-
ployed, but that the bottom of each cell is formed into a
kind of three-sided cup. Now, if we break away the walls
of the cell, so as only to leave the bases, we shall see that
each cup consists of three lozenge-shaped plates of wax,
all the lozenges being exactly alike.

These lozenge-shaped plates contain the key to the Bee-
cell, and their properties will therefore be explained at
length. Before doing so, I must acknowledge my thanks
to the Rev. Walter Mitchell, Vicar and Hospitaller of St.
Bartholomew's Hospital, who has long exercised his well-
known mathematical powers on this subject, and has kindly
supplied me with the outline of the present history.

If a single cell be isolated, it will be seen that the sides
rise from the outer edges of the three lozenges above-men-
tioned, so that there are, of course, six sides, the transverse
section of which gives a perfect hexagon. Many years ago

THE HIVE BEE. 33

Maraldi, being struck with the fact that the lozenge-shaped
plates always had the same angles, took the trouble to
measure them, and found that in each lozenge the large
angles measured 109° 28’, and the smaller 70° 32’, the

2.

FIG.6.

E
aS
FIGs.
D % Cc
a
va 1
ae 7“
F eG x z B
v3 e v3

G

two together making 180°, the equivalent of two right
angles. He also noted the fact that the apex of the three-
sided cup was formed by the union of three of the greater
angles. The three united lozenges are seen at fig. I.

Some time afterwards, Reaumur, thinking that this re-
E

34 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

markable uniformity of angle might have some connection
with the wonderful economy of space which is observable in
the Bee-comb, hit upon a very ingenious plan. Without
mentioning his reasons for the question, he asked Keenig,
the mathematician, to make the following calculation.
Given a hexagonal vessel terminated by three lozenge-
shaped plates; what are the angles which would give the
greatest amount of space with the least amount of material ?

Koenig made his calculations, and found that the angles
were 109° 26’ and 70° 34’, almost precisely agreeing with
the measurements of Maraldi. ‘The reader is requested
to remember these angles. Reaumur, on receiving the
answer, concluded that the Bee had very nearly solved
the difficult mathematical problem, the difference between
the measurement and the calculation being so small as to
be practically negatived in the actual construction of so
small an object as the Bee-cell.

Mathematicians were naturally delighted with the re-
sult of the investigation, for it showed how beautifully
practical science could be aided by theoretical knowledge,
and the construction of the Bee-cell became a famous
problem in the economy of nature. In comparison with
the honey which the cell is intended to contain, the wax
is a rare aud costly substance, secreted in very small
quantities, and requiring much time for its production ; it
is therefore essential that the quantity of wax employed
in making the comb should be as little, and that of the
honey contained in it as great, as possible.

For along time these statements remained uncontro-
verted, Any one with the proper instruments could
measure the angles for himself, and the calculations of a
mathematician like Kcenig would hardly be questioned.
However, Maclaurin, the well-known Scotch mathema-
tician, was not satisfied. The two results very nearly

THE HIVE BEE. 35

tallied with each other, but not quite, and he felt that in
a mathematical question precision was a necessity. So
he tried the whole question himself, and found Maraldi’s
measurements correct, namely, 109° 28’ and 70° 32’.

He then set to work at the problem which was worked
out by Koenig, and found that the true theoretical angles
were 109° 28’ and 70° 32’, precisely corresponding with
the actual measurement of the Bee-cell.

Another question now arose. How did this discrepancy |
occur ? How could so excellent a mathematician as Keenig
make so grave a mistake? On investigation, it was found
that no blame attached to Koenig, but that the error lay in
the book of logarithms which he used. Thus, a mistake in a
mathematical work was accidentally discovered by measuring
the angles of a Bee-cell—a mistake sufficiently great to have
caused the loss of a ship whose captain happened to use a copy
of the same logarithmic tables for calculating his longitude.

Now, let us see how this beautiful lozenge is made.
There is not the least difficulty in drawing it. Make any
square, ABCD (fig. 3), and draw the diagonal AC.

Produce BA towards F and AD, both ways to any
distance.

Make AE and AG equal to AC, and make AF equal to AB.
Join the points EFGB, and you have the required figure.

Now comes a beautiful point. If we take AB as 1,
being one side of the square on which the lozenge is
founded, AE and AG will be equal to ./2, and EF, FG,
GB, and BE, will be equal to /3, as can be seen at a
glance by any one who has advanced as far as the 47th
proposition of the first book of Euclid.

Perhaps some of my readers may say that all these
figures may be very true, but that they do not show how
the cell is formed. If the reader will refer to fig. 4, he
will see how the theory may be reduced to practice. After

36 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

he has drawn the lozenge-shaped figure which has just
been described, let him draw upon cardboard nine of them,
as is shown in the illustration (fig. 4). Then let him cut out
the figure, and draw his penknife half through the cardboard
at all the lines of junction. He will then find that the card-
board will fold into an exact model of a Bee-cell, the three
lozenges which project from the sides forming the base,
and the others the sides. This cell will, of course, have very

FIG.4.

short sides; but by the simple expedient of widening the
lozenges, which form the sides, without altering the angles,
the imitation cell can be made of any desired length.
The best way of showing this beautiful structure is to
make two models, one to lie flat or be folded and opened at
discretion, and the other formed into a cell, and the angles
written upon the cardboard. A little gummed paper will
hold the sides together, so that the model can be handled
without breaking. A very amusing puzzle may be formed

THE HIVE BEE. 37

by cutting out the nine lozenge-shaped pieces of card-
board, and by requesting that they be so put together as
to form the model of a Bee-cell.

We have not yet exhausted the wonders of the Bee-comb.

If we take a piece of comb from which all the cells have
been removed, and hold it up to the light, we shall see
that the cells are not placed opposite each other, but that
the three lozenges which form the base of one cell form
part of the base of three other cells, as is seen in fig. 2.
Thus a still further economy of material is attained, while
the strength is enormously increased, each of the edges
formed by the junction of two lozenges making a buttress
which performs precisely the same office as the buttresses
of architecture.

The same principle is observable throughout the cell,
which even at its edges is supported by three cells, and
gives partial support to three others. As the walls of the
cells are extremely thin, the Bee always strengthens their
mouths by a thick edging of harder wax than that with
which the cell itself is made. The engineer who plans
girders, boilers, and other objects of a similar character, acts
in precisely the same manner, and strengthens the compara-
tively thin and yielding plates by flanges or angle-irons.

Many inquirers have asked themselves how the Bee con-
structs the comb, and on what principle it proceeds. To
this question there have been several answers, none of
which appear to be satisfactory. One ingenious ento-
mologist remarked, that when the Bee placed the claws
of its fore-feet against each other, the limbs embraced
a hexagonal space, of which the thorax formed one side.
Another, a very popular solution of the question, is that
which may be called the “sculpture” theory.

The Bee that commences the task is supposed to work a
lump of wax on the stick or bar which supports a comb,

38 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

and then to excavate a circular hole on one side, the
interior of the hole being shaped like a concave lens.
Round this hole or basin the Bee then excavates six other
holes of equal diameter, so that their edges nearly touch
each other. It then cuts away the wax from each basin
until the material is reduced to the requisite thinness, and
thus obtains the hexagonal cell. In the meantime, another
Bee is working in the same manner on the opposite side of
the wax, taking care, however, to make the centre of its
first basin correspond with the union of three basins on
the opposite side. A similar system of sculpturing is
carried on, so that at last a series of hexagonal basins is
formed, from which rise the walls of the future cells.

There is an amount of plausibility about this theory
which is very attractive. It must, however, be remembered
that the Bee is still supposed to execute problems which are
as difficult assthat which they are presumed to explain.

In the first place, the Bee must strike perfect circles
from centres the distance of which from each other must be
accurately adjusted. Again, these centres must be so placed
that the centre of the circle sculptured on one side of the
comb must be equi-distant from the centres of the three
adjacent circles on the other side—a problem of no easy
accomplishment, even with the aid of rule and compass.
Then, if the circles be not perfect, or their centres wrongly
placed, or the hollow of one cut deeper than that of another,
or the hemispherical form of the hollow not precisely just,
the whole accuracy of the angles is destroyed, and the
entire comb would be as distorted as the first essays of a
young carpenter.

Then there is another explanation, which may be called
the “equal pressure” theory. The Bee is, according to
the advocates of this theory, supposed to construct all the
cells of a cylindrical shape, and the cells are supposed to

THE HIVE BEE. 39

assume the hexagonal form by equal pressure in all direc-
tions. Every one knows that cylinders made of a yielding
substance always become hexagonal if pressed together,
and a similar process was supposed to cause the hexagonal
shape of the Bee-cell.

There is another theory, which I believe to be entirely
original, which is suggested by the well-known mathe-
matician and crystallographer above-mentioned. Mr.
Mitchell writes to me as follows: “It may not be out of
place to remark that the Bee-cell forms a mould, as it were,
of the natural form of a crystal. There is in nature a
great variety of crystals, hexagonal prisms terminated by
three planes, like the Bee-cell. These have many different
angles. But there is one form, called the rhombic dodeca-
hedron (see fig. 6), very frequently found in natural crystals
of the garnet, which has precisely the same angles as the
Bee-cell.

“ Certain crystals split naturally into planes precisely
like the lozenges which have already been described in
giving the key to the structure of the Bee-cell. May it
not, therefore, be possible that wax, which is a crystallis-
able substance, cleaves in this particular direction, and does
the Bee use this property in forming its cell? Though
this vague conjecture should prove to be true, we shall
not less admire the marvellous instinct which combines
this fact with the structure of the cell.”

It would, of course, be easy to fill many pages with the
account of the Hive Bee and its habits; but as this work
is restricted to the habitations of animals, we can only look
upon the Bee as a maker of social habitations. It will,
however, be necessary to mention the material of which
the comb is made.

The other hymenoptera obtain their materials from
external sources. The hornet and wasp have recourse to

40 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

trees and branches, and bear home in their mouths the
bundles of woody fibres which they have gnawed away.
The upholsterer and leaf-cutter Bees are indebted to the
petals and leaves of various plants, and various wood-boring
insects make their homes of the woody particles which
they have nibbled away. The Bee, however, obtains her
wax in a very different manner.

If the body of a worker Bee be carefully examined, on
the under sides of the abdomen will be seen six little flaps,
not unlike pockets, the covers of which can be easily raised
with a pin or needle. Under these flaps is secreted the
wax, which is produced in tiny scales or plates, and may
be seen projecting from the flaps like little semilunar white
lines. Plenty of food, quiet, and warmth are necessary
for the production of wax, and as it is secreted very slowly,
if is so valuable that the greatest economy is needed in
its use. It is, indeed, a wonderful substance ; soft enough
when warm to be kneaded and to be spread like mortar,
and hard enough when cold to bear the weight of brood
and honey. Moreover, it is of a texture so close that the
honey cannot soak through the delicate walls of the cells,
as would soon be the case if the comb were made of woody
fibre, like that of the hornet or wasp.

Indeed, it is a most remarkable fact that the Bee should
be able to produce not only the honey, but the material
with which is formed the treasury wherein the honey is
stored. Honey itself is again scarcely less remarkable than
wax. The Bee goes to certain flowers, inserts its hair-clad
proboscis into their recesses, sweeps out the sweet juice,
passes the laden proboscis through its jaws, scrapes off the
liquid and swallows it. The juice then passes into a little
receptacle just within the abdomen called the “ honey-
bag,” which is apparently composed of an exceedingly
delicate membrane, and seems to discharge no other office

THE HIVE BEE. 41

than that of a vessel in which the juice can be kept while
the Bee is at work.

As soon as the honey-bag is filled, the Bee flies back
to the hive and disgorges the juice into one of the cells,
But, during that short sojourn in the insect, the juice has
undergone a change, and been converted into honey, a
substance which is quite unlike that from which it was
formed, and which has an odour and flavour peculiarly its
own. How this change is wrought is at present unknown,
for the little bag in which the transformation is made is
composed of a membrane that seems incapable of exerting
any influence upon the substance contained within it.

All food that is eaten by the Bee passes through the
honey-bag, which is closely analogous to the crop of a bird,
and it would seem that the honey ought rather to pass into
the stomach than be disgorged at the will of the insect.
However, it is well known that many birds feed their young
by disgorging food, and the Bee is enabled to perform the
same operation by means of a little valve which leads from
the honey-bag into the stomach, and is plainly perceptible
even with the unassisted eye. Under ordinary circum-
stances, the valve just allows the food to pass gently and
gradually into the stomach ; but the violent effort, which
is made in ejecting the food, closes the valve, and only
allows the honey to flow upwards through the mouth.

The office of the worker and drone cells is two-fold—
first, to act as nurseries for the insects while passing through
their preliminary stages, and next to serve as repositories
for food, whether liquid or solid. The egg of the Queen-
Bee is placed nearly at the bottom of the cell, exactly on
the angle where the points of the lozenges meet. It is soon
hatched into a little white grub, which is assiduously fed
by the nurses, and grows with wonderful rapidity. As soon

as it has eaten its last larval meal, it spins a silken cover
F

42 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

over the cell, and remains there until it has become a per-
fect insect. It then bites its way out, and after a day or so
devoted to hardening and strengthening its limbs, it leaves
the hive and joins in the labours of the community.

No sooner is the Bee fairly out of its waxen nursery,
than the workers clear out the cell, and prepare it for the
reception of honey. As soon as the cell is filled, the Bees
close up the entrance with a waxen door, which is air-
tight, and serves to preserve the honey in proper condition.
Those who wish to eat honey in its pure state should always
purchase it in the comb. If it be stored in pots, however
well they may be sealed, it always crystallises, and in that
state is injurious to digestion. Moreover, it is so exten-
sively adulterated, that a pot of really pure honey is not
readily obtained.

Besides the honey, “ Bee-bread ” is placed in the cells,
This is a compound of honey and the pollen of flowers,
and is chiefly used as food for the young grubs. We may
often see the Bees hastening home with a load of yellow
pollen on each of the hinder pair of legs, and this pollen
is destined to be made into Bee-bread.

Such, then, is a brief outline of the wonderful social
habitation which is made by the Hive Bee.

We now come to an insect which is as well known by
name as the Bee, though not so familiar to our eyes, This
is the common Hornet, which is tolerably plentiful in
many parts of England, but seems to be almost absent from
others.

The nest of the Hornet is much like that of the wasp,
except that it is proportionately larger, and is almost in-
variably built in hollow trees, deserted outhouses, and places
of a similar description. Whenever the Hornet takes up
its residence in an inhabited house, as is sometimes the

THE HORNET. 43

case, the inmates are sure to be in arms against the insect,
and with good reason. The Hornet is much larger than
the wasp, and its sting is proportionately venomous. It
is popularly said that three Hornets can kill a man;

Tait
i | f l i i

meer
ii A Ae
i i : A es nt i IK aa ie

HORNET,

and although in such a case the sufferer must previously
have been in bad health, the poisonous properties of the
Hornet are sufficiently virulent to render such a saying
popular.

re SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

Moreover, the Hornet is an irascible insect, and given
to assault those whom it fancies are approaching its nest
with evil intentions. It is not pleasant to be chased by
wasps, but to be chased by Hornets is still less agreeable,
as I can personally testify. They are so persevering in
their attacks that they will follow a man for a wonderfully
long distance, and if they he struck away over and over
again, they will return to the charge as soon as they
recover from the shock. There is a deep ominous menace
in their hum, which speaks volumes to those who have
some acquaintance with the language of insects; and
no one who has once been chased by these insects will
willingly run the same risk again.

Mr. 8. Stone, tells me that he has been successful
in breeding Hornets as well as wasps, and forcing them
to build nests much more beautiful than they would have
made if they had been at liberty.

One nest, when of moderate size, was removed from
the head of a tree, and placed in a large glazed box.
Within the box the Hornets continued their labours,
and a most beautiful nest was produced, symmetrical in
shape, and variegated with wonderfully rich colours.
“Such a nest as that,’ writes Mr. Stone, “is not produced
by Hornets in a general way. They do not trouble them-
selves to form much of a covering, especially when a small
cavity in the head of a tree is selected, which is often the
case. The walls of the chamber they consider a sufficient
protection for the combs.

“Tf you expect them to form a substantial covering,
the combs must be so placed as to have ample space
around them, and if you expect them to fabricate a
covering of great beauty, you must select the richest
coloured woods, and such as form the most striking
contrasts, and place them so that the insects shall be

THE HORNET. 45

induced, nay, almost compelled, to use them in the con-
struction of their nest. This is exactly what I did with
reference to the nest in question.”

Knowing from experience the difficulty of assaulting
a Hornet’s nest, I asked Mr. Stone how he performed
the task, and was told that his chief reliance was placed
on chloroform. Approaching very cautiously to the nest,
he twists some cotton wool round the end of a stick,
soaks it in chloroform, and pushes it into the aperture.
A mighty buzzing immediately arises, but is soon silenced
by the chloroform, and as soon as this result has happened,
mallet, chisel, and saw are at work, until the renewed
buzzing tells that the warlike insects are recovering their
senses, and will soon be able to use their formidable
weapons. The chloroform is then re-applied until they
are quieted, and the tools are again taken up.

The extrication of a nest from a hollow tree is necessarily
a long and tedious process, on account of the frequent in-
terruptions. Even if the insects did not interfere with
the work, the labour of cutting a nest out of a tree is
much harder than could be imagined by those who have
not tried it.

Moreover, the habits of Hornets are not quite like
those of the wasps. At night, all the wasps retire into their
nest, and in the dead of night the nest may be approached
with perfect safety, the last stragglers having come home.
Hornets are apt to continue their work through the greater
part of the night, and if the moon be up, they are nearly
sure to do so. Therefore, the nest-hunters are obliged
to detail one of their party as a sentinel, whose sole
business it is to watch for the Hornets that come dropping
in at intervals, laden with building materials or food, and
that would at once dash at the intruders upon theirdomains.
Fortunately, the light from the lanterns seems to blindthem,

“46 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

and they can be struck down as they fly to and fro in the
glare.

The nest that has just been mentioned was rather deeply
imbedded in the tree, and cost no less than six hours of
continuous labour, the work of excavation having been
begun at 8 p.m. and the nest extracted at 2 aM. on the
following morning.

In the illustration is seen a portion of a lately begun nest,
much reduced in size, as may be conjectured from thedimen-
sions of the insects that are crawling upon it. As the
arrangement of the combs is identical with that of the
wasp-nest, the interior is not disclosed. Another reason
for showing the exterior of the nest: is, that the reader might
see how the Hornet forms the paper-like cover, and the
manner in which the insects can enter at different parts,
instead of having but a single entrance, as is the case with
several hymenopterous nests which have been mentioned.

In many parts of Brazil there may be seen the social
nests of certain hymenopterous insects, which are very aptly
termed Synwca, this name being derived from two Greek
words, which signify sociality.

The nests of these insects have some resemblance to those
of certain Polybie, which have already been described.
They are, however, of much greater size, and as they are
rather heavy, are affixed to tolerably strong branches.
One such nest, which is now in the British Museum, has
been built upon a post, nearly encircling it above, and
sloping off to a rounded point, nearly two feet below the
highest portion. Another is fixed to a rather stout, straight,
and upright branch. The nests are dark brown in colour,
and as they are fixed to objects of a similar hue, are very
inconspicuous. The insect which makes this nest is
nearly as large as the English hornet.

SYNGCA. 47.

The walls of the nests made by insects of this genus are
very thin and fragile, not unlike those of the structure built
by Polybia sedula. In one nest the cover is remarkably
elegant, being shaped like the half of a melon cut longi-
tudinally, and moulded into ribs which run transversely
across the nest, and have a gentle and regular curve. These
ribs project about a quarter of an inch, and are nearly half
an inch wide, and are as round and regular as if they were
produced by cords wound upon the combs.

The insect which made this nest is of a deep steel-blue
colour, looking nearly black in a dim light. The head is
rather large, and the abdomen is rounded and small,
being connected with the thorax by a footstalk of moderate
length.

The two remarkable nests, which are figured in the
illustrations on pages 48 and 50, come from different
parts of the world, but they are similar in many respects.

The long, flask-like nest was brought from Mexico, by
Owen Rees, Esq., in 1834. ven before it was opened,
its structure was evidently full of interest. The colour
is dull white, not unlike parchment, and the texture of
the materials is nearly as hard, stiff, and close as that sub-
stance. When placed under the microscope, it is seen to
be composed of a vast number of shining threads, crossing
and recrossing each other in every direction, and pro-
ducing a material like very thin, but stiff felt.

It was suspended to a branch, but could not swing in
the wind, because a twig descended into the neck and
prevented any lateral motion. At the bottom of the nest
there is a small and nearly circular aperture, through
which the insects are enabled to make their exit and
entrance, The length of the nest is about eight inches.

So much for the exterior. On opening the nest, however,

NEST OF SOCIAL LEPIDOPTERA.

CURIOUS NEST. 49

a most singular state of things was discovered. A great
number of pupz, evidently those of some butterfly, were
suspended by their tails to the walls and to the twig which
runs down the nest. In this nest they were about one
hundred in number, and they were hung to the whole
of the upper part of the nest, but without any particular
order.

On seeing this nest, an entomologist naturally asks how
and when the insects made it. -That they did not form
it of a small size and then add to its dimensions in order
to suit their growth, is evident from the fact that no trace
of enlargement can be perceived. It is most probable
that as in the case of the processionary moth, the cater-
pillars spin their silken home when they are three parts
grown, and in consequence have but a short time to spend
in it before they pass into the quiescent pupal form.

It is evident that the insects make their escape from
their pensile home as goon as they have broken out of the
pupal skin, because the aperture is so small that they
could not possibly pass through it when their wings were
thoroughly expanded and dried. Of what form and colour
these wings might be, was for a long time a mystery.
Mr. Westwood, who first opened a nest, carefully dis-
sected some of the pupe, and by cautiously softening the
withered membranes in warm water, succeeded in spread-
ing out the wings sufficiently to learn the general form of
the nervures and the shape of the “cells,” as the spaces
between the nervures are named.

Specimens of the perfect insect have now been obtained,
and are seen to be butterflies closely resembling in shape
the lovely heliconide, which are so plentiful in Southern
America, but of very simple colours, the general hue being
blackish brown diversified by a broad, but indistinctly
marked, white band across the wings. Examples of the.

G

50 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

nest have lately been sent to Vienna, but any one who
wishes to see the specimen from which the sketch on p. 49
and the above description were taken, may do so by visit-
ing the Museum at Oxford, where the perfect butterflies

NEST OF SOCIAL LEV’'IDOPTERA.

may also be seen. The scientific name of the butterfly
is Hucheira socialis.

In the middle of the above illustration may be seen a
curious object, that looks something like a flattened pin-
cushion fastened to the branches. ‘This is the nest of
a social insect, and is, I believe, an unique specimen. It

THE SMALL ERMINE MOTH. SI

was brought from Tropical Africa by Vernon Wollaston,
Esq., and is so remarkable as to deserve a detailed de-
scription.

In length it measures eight inches, and in width five
and a half inches, its depth being about three inches.
The aspect of the exterior gives but little promise of the
exceeding strength of the structure, which is as hard and
elastic as the side of a silk hat, rebounding when pressed
in precisely the same manner. When cut, this covering
is seen to be double, the outer case being very thin, and
formed of orange-brown silken threads, and the inner
being made of many successive layers of dark brown silk,
so that it looks very like undressed leather.

The most extraordinary part of the nest, however, is the
provision which is made for the exit of the inmates. Set
upon different parts of the nest are thirteen or fourteen
little conical protuberances, which do not project very far
from the general surface, and are quite inconspicuous. On
examination, these prominences are seen to be composed
of stiff silken threads, which converge to a point, pre-
cisely like those which guard the entrance of the emperor
moth’s cocoon, so that any inhabitant can crawl out, but
no enemy can crawl in.

This nest, like the preceding, may be seen in the
Museum at Oxford.

There is a very pretty, very interesting, and very de-
structive insect, called by entomologists the SMaLL ERMINE
Mors, which is very plentiful in this country, and by
gardeners is thought to be much too plentiful. It can
easily be recognised by its long narrow wings, the upper
pair of which are soft silvery, or satiny white, spotted with
black, and the lower pair dark brown. The expanse of
the spread wings is about three-quarters of an inch.

52 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

In its winged and pupal states the insect is perfectly
harmless, but in its larval condition it becomes a terrible
pest. Most caterpillars wage war singly on the foliage,
and though they do much damage, their ravages are con-
ducted in a desultory manner. The Small Ermines,
however, band themselves together in hosts, and march
like disciplined armies to the attack, invading a district

SMALL ERMINE MOTH.

and completely devastating it before they proceed to
another.

They live in large tents, placed among the branches of
some tree, and composed of silken threads, which are
loosely crossed and recrossed in various directions. From
this centre the caterpillars issue in vast numbers, each
individual spinning a strong silken thread as it proceeds,
which acts as a guide to the nest, just as the fabled clue

THE SMALL ERMINE MOTH. 53

led through the intricacies of Rosamond’s bower. When
once these caterpillars have taken possession of a tree,
they are sure to strip it of its leaves as completely as if
the foliage had been plucked by hand, It is a very
curious sight to watch the systematic manner in which
these troublesome insects set about their work, how they
send out pioneers which lead the way to new branches,
either by crawling up to them or by lowering themselves
to them by means of their silken life-lines, and how soon
they are followed by their ever hungry companions.

Perhaps the reader may wonder why the little birds do
not eat these caterpillars. When they have nearly stripped
the branch, they are very conspicuous, especially as they
make their way from bough to bough along their silken
bridges. Indeed, a proprietor of a garden that was much
damaged by this moth did once mention the immunity of
the caterpillars as a proof that any tenderness to small
birds was misplaced, saying that if the sparrows were
half as insectivorous as I mentioned, they would long ago
have eaten all the caterpillars.

Now, at the first glance, there seemed to be some
reason in this remark; but a short look at one of the
damaged trees explained the reason why the sparrows did
not eat the caterpillars. The birds literally dared not
approach the insects; for the silken threads which tra-
versed the branches in all directions were an effectual
barrier, striking against the wings and terrifying the poor
birds. We all know that a few threads of fine cotton
passed from bough to bough of a gooseberry-bush will
deter any little bird from settling on it; and, in the same
manner, the silken threads of the caterpillars deter the
birds from settling on the branches. These threads are
very elastic, and of marvellous strength, considering their
tenuity, producing most uncomfortable sensations when

54 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

they come across the face, and being nearly as strong as
the fibres spun by the common silkworm.

The caterpillar which works all this damage is rather
slender, and is covered with black dots along the back.

Another well-known British insect which constructs
social habitations is the GoLD-TAILED Morn, a familiar and
beautiful insect, with wings of soft downy plumage, and
snowy-white in colour, and a tuft of yellow hair at the
end of the tail. The perfect insect may often be seen
sticking on the trunks of trees in gardens, waiting until
the evening, when it will fly off to its labours.

When the moth has laid its eggs, it plucks off the
beautiful yellow tuft at the end of the tail, and with it forms
a roof over the pile of eggs, laying the hairs so artificially
as to make a perfect thatch. When the larve are
hatched, they retain their sociability, and spin for them-
selves a common domicile. This house is very remarkable.
Viewed on the exterior, it is seen to be a bag-like struc-
ture of whitish silk, rather strong and tough, but very
yielding.

One of these nests, which I found in Wiltshire, is now
before me. It was found in a hedge, about two feet from
the ground, and is rather a complicated structure. The
scaffolding, so to speak, of the nest is formed by a hori-
zontal spray of three small twigs, and it is strengthened
by the long hedge-grass which crossed the spray. Seeds
of different kinds are woven into the walls, so that a
comparatively small portion of the silk is exposed to
view.

When cut open, it shows a singularly beautiful structure
within. There are several sheets of silken tissue, each
becoming more delicate, and the innermost being white,
shining like satin; whereas the outer covering is dull-

THE BROWN-TAILED MOTH. 55

white, and very tough, clinging to the scissors so that a
straight cut is almost impossible. Delicate walls divide
the interior into several compartments, in all of which are
evidences that the caterpillars must have resided for some
time. The reason why the creatures make this nest is,
that they are hatched towards the end of summer, and in
consequence are forced to pass the winter in the larval con-
dition, so that some warm residence is needful for them. It
is well known that air is a very bad conductor of heat, and,
in consequence, the successive sheets of silk which cover
the nest, and which enclose layers of air between them, form
a protection which is far warmer than would be obtained
by a solid mass of silk measuring twice the thickness of
the three walls, together with their intervening spaces.

There is an allied insect, popularly called the BRown-
TAILED Motu, which spins a social nest that in many
respects resembles that of the Gold-tailed Moth. The nest,
however, is scarcely so elegant, nor is the silken web so
beautifully delicate. Much, however, depends upon sur-
rounding conditions, such as the disposition of the twig
on which the nest is placed, and the presence or absence
of leaves, whether those of the tree or of other plants that
happen to grow in close proximity.

These nests are very firmly constructed, and the walls
are solid, as is needful for insects which are obliged to pass
the winter within them. There are, however, many cater-
pillars which live socially, and which spin a common
habitation, but which leave it before the cold weather comes
on, and, in consequence, do not need such thick walls. Any
hedgerows where nettles are found will supply numerous
examples of such nests, made by the curious caterpillars
which afterwards assume the lovely and familiar forms

56 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

of the Peacock and SmaLL TorToIsE-SHELL BUTTERFLIES.
Great black masses of these caterpillars may be seen upon
the nettles, and, on examining them closely, they will be
seen to reside within a common home, made of tough
silken threads, very loosely spun, and forming a kind of
net, with long and irregular meshes.

CHAPTER IV.
SOCIAL INSECTS —(continued).

A curious Ant from India—Locality of its nest—Description of the nest—
Its material and mode of structure—A nocturnal misadventure—The
Driver Ant of Africa—Description of the insect—Reason for its
name—Its general habits—Destructive powers of the Driver Ant—
How the insects devour meat and convey it home—How they kill
snakes—Native legend of the Python—Their mode of march—Fatal
effects of the sunbeams—An extemporised arch—Method of escaping
from floods—Site of their habitation—Modes of destroying them—
J.iving ladders and their structure—Method of crossing streams—
Tenacity of life—A decapitated Ant—Mode of biting—Description
of the insect—Curious nest of a Brazilian Wasp—Weight of the nest
and method of attachment—Variety of Polistes nest—Polistcs ater-
rimus and its singular nest—Beautiful structure of an unknown
Polistes.

ALTHOUGH several species of Ants may be better classed
among the burrowing insects, there are many which
possess very interesting habits, and which may here take
their place among the creatures which build social habi-
tations. Among them is a curious insect inhabiting
India, and discovered by Colonel Sykes, the well-
known naturalist.

This insect forms its nest on the branches of trees and
shrubs, and Colonel Sykes mentions that he has found their
curious habitation on the branches of the Kurwund shrub,
and on the Mango-tree. ;

The nests are more or less spherical, and are about as

H

58 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

large as an ordinary football. The material of which they
are made is cow-dung, which is spread in flakes in a manner
that reminds the observer of the outside cover of a wasp’s
nest. The flakes are placed upon each other like the tiles
of a house, so that although the insects can creep into the
nest beneath the flakes, no water canenter. Onthe summit
of the nest is one very large flake, that acts as a general
roof to the structure.

Within the nest are placed a number of cells made
of the same material as the exterior, and in them may
be found insects in every state of development, eggs in
one, larvee in another, and pupe in a third. No pro-
vision seems to be laid up within the nest, so that the
inhabitants must depend on their daily excursions for
their food.

When Colonel Sykes brought home the first nest he
discovered, he hung it to the tent-pole, preparatory to exa-
mining it in the morning. ‘In the night the men were
awakened by repeated punctures and general irritation of
the skin, but the darkness prevented them from discovering
their tormentors, and they continued to toss and tumble
in their beds for some hours in no very complacent state of
mind. At last they got up, dressed themselves, and aban-
doned the tent; but the evil was rather aggravated than
abated, as parts of their persons which had previously
escaped had now their share of suffering. At daylight they
discovered to their consternation that they were covered
with minute ants, which had filled their pantaloons, pene-
trated the sleeves of their coats and every other part of
their habiliments. On inspecting the tent, they found the
interior teeming with multitudes of little angry beings, in
busy progress, seeking to resent the outrage which had
been committed on the community by the removal of
their abode.”

THE DRIVER .ANT. 59

The insects are extremely small, barely one-fifth of
an inch in length, and are reddish in colour.

Perhaps one of the most terrible of insects is that which
is appropriately called the Driver Ant of Western Africa.

This insect is a truly remarkable creature. Although it
is to be found in vast numbers, it has never been found in
the winged condition, and neither the male nor the female
have as yet been discovered. The workers are uniform
in colour, but exceedingly variable in size. Their hue
is deep brownish black, and their length varies from
half an inch to one line, so that the largest workers
nearly equal the common earwig, while the smallest are
no larger than the familiar red ant of our gardens. In
the British Museum are specimens of the workers, which
form a regular gradation of size, from the largest to the
smallest.

They are called Driver Ants, because they drive before
them every living creature. There is not an animal that
can withstand the Driver Ants. In their march, they
carry destruction before them, and every beast knows in-
stinctively that it must not cross their track. They have
been known to destroy even the agile monkey, when their
swarming host had once made a lodgment on its body,
and when they enter a pigstye, they soon kill the im-
prisoned inhabitants, whose ‘tough hides cannot protect
them from the teeth of the Driver Ants. Fowls they
destroy in numbers, killing in a single night all the in-
habitants of the hen-roost, and having destroyed them,
have a curious method of devouring them.

The Rev. Dr. Savage, who has experimented upon these
formidable insects, killed a fowl and gave it to the Ants,
At first, they did not seem to pay much attention to it,
but he soon found that they were in reality making their

60 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

preparations. Large parties of the insects were detached
for the purpose of preparing a road, and worked with the
assiduity which seems to be a characteristic of these ener-
geticinsects. Numbers of them were employed in smooth-
ing the road to the nest by removing every obstacle out
of the way, until by degrees a tolerably level road was
obtained. The Ants are possessed of strength which seems
gigantic when compared with their size, carrying away
sticks four or five times as large as themselves, and never
failing to pounce upon any grub or insect that might
happen to be lurking beneath their shelter. They always
carried such burdens longitudinally, grasping them with
their jaws and legs, and passing the load under the body.
Some of these roads are more than two hundred yards
in length.

Meanwhile, the other Ants were busy with the fowl.
Beginning at the base of the beak, they contrived to pull
out the feathers one by one, until they stripped it regularly
backwards, working over the head, along the neck, and so
on to the body. This was evidently a very hard task, as
the insects did not possess sufficient strength to pull out
the feathers by main force, and were consequently obliged
to grub them up laboriously by the roots. The next
business was to pull the bird to pieces, and at this work
they were left. Unfortunately the experiment was spoiled
by the natives, who stole the fowl, thinking that the Ants
had eaten so many of their poultry that they were justi-
fied in retaliation. Others chose to excuse themselves
by saying that they thought the fowl to be a fetish
offering to the Ants, and accordingly took it away from
them.

The large iguana lizards fall victims to the Driver Ants,
and so do all reptiles, not excluding snakes. It seems,
from the personal observations of Dr. Savage, that the

THE DRIVER ANT. 61

Ants commence their attack on the snake by biting its
eyes, and so blinding the poor reptile, which only flounders
and writhes helplessly on one spot, instead of gliding
away to a distance.

DRIVER AN'S.

It is said by the natives, that when the great python
has crushed its prey in its terrible folds, it does not devour
it at once, but makes a large circuit, at least a mile in

62 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

diameter, in order to see whether an army of Driver Ants
is on the march. If so, it glides off, and abandons its
prey, which will soon be devoured by the Ants; but if
the ground is clear, it returns to the crushed animal,
swallows it, and gives itself to repose until the process of
digestion be completed. Whether this assertion be true
or not, Dr. Savage cannot say; but it is here given in
order to show the extreme awe in which the natives hold
the Driver Ants.

So completely is the dread of them on every living crea-
ture, that on their approach whole villages are deserted,
and in extreme cases the entire population is forced to take
to the rivers, knowing that the insects will not enter water
unless obliged to do so; although on occasions they do
not hesitate to commit themselves to the waves, as will
presently be seen.

The order of their marching is very curious, and is
well described by Dr. Savage :—

“ Their sallies are made in cloudy days, and in the night,
chiefly in the latter. This is owing to the uncongenial in-
fluence of the sun, an exposure to the direct rays of which,
especially when the power is increased by reflection, is
almost instantaneously fatal. IPf they should be detained
abroad till late in the morning of a sunny day by the
quantity of their prey, they will construct arches over
their path, of dirt agglutinated by a fluid excreted from
their mouth. If their way should run under thick grass,
sticks, &c., affording sufficient shelter, the arch is dis-
pensed with; if not,so much dirt is added as is necessary
to eke out the arch in connection with them. In the
rainy season, or In a succession of cloudy days, the arch
is seldom visible; their path, however, is very distinct,
presenting a beaten appearance, and freedom from every-
thing movable.

THE DRIVER ANT. 63

“They are evidently economists in time and labour ;
for if a crevice, fissure in the ground, passage under
stones, &c., come in their way, they will adopt them as a
substitute for the arch,

“Tn cloudy days, when on their predatory excursions,
or migrating, an arch for the protection of the workers is
constructed of the bodies of their largest class. Their
widely-extended jaws, long slender limbs, and projecting
antenne, intertwining, form a sort of network, that seems
to answer well their object. Whenever an alarm is given,
the arch is instantly broken, and the ants, joining others
of the same class on the outside of the line, who seem to
be acting as commanders, guides, and scouts, run about
in a furious manner, in pursuit of the enemy. If the
alarm should prove to be without foundation, the victory
won, or danger passed, the arch is quickly renewed, and
the main column marches forward as before, in all the
order of an intellectual military discipline.”

Sometimes, as is usual in tropical countries, the rain
descends like a flood, converting in a few minutes whole
tracts of country into a temporary lake.. The dwellings
of the Driver Ant are immediately deluged, and, but for
a remarkable instinct which is implanted in the insects,
most of the Ants, and all the future brood, would perish.
Assoon as the water encroaches upon their premises, they
run together and agglomerate themselves into balls, the
weakest (or the ‘‘ women and children,” as the natives call
them) being in the middle, and the large and powerful
insects on the outside. These balls are much lighter than
water, and consequently float on the surface, until the
floods retire and the insects can resume their place on
dry land. ;

The size of the ant-balls is various; but they are, on an
average, as large as a full-sized cricket-ball. One of these

64 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

curious balls was cleverly caught in a handkerchief, put
in a vessel, and sent to Mr. F. Smith, of the British Museum,
who has kindly presented me with several specimens of
the insect.

When a colony of these insects has been established near
a house, the inhabitants naturally endeavour to destroy it.
The habitation is very simple and artless, and generally
consists of a mere hole in a rock or bank, in which the
creatures assemble. They are very fond of usurping the
sepulchres of the dead, which are usually excavated in the
sides of hills, and are about eighteen inches in depth.

The natives generally try to destroy the colony by heap-
ing dry leaves of the palm upon the dwelling, and setting
fire to the heap. When this plan was tried, it was found
to be very unsatisfactory; for the greater mass of the
insects contrived to make their escape, and were found upon
neighbouring trees, clinging in heavy bunches and long
festoons, which connected one branch with another, and
formed ladders over which the insects could pass. These
festoons were made in a very curious manner.

First, a single Ant clung tightly to a branch, and then
a second insect crawled cautiously down its suspended
body, and hung to its long, outstretched limbs. Others
followed in rapid succession, until they had formed a
complete chain of Ants, which swung about in the wind.
One of the largest workers then took its stand im-
mediately below the chain, held firmly to the branch with
its hind limbs, and dexterously caught with its fore-legs
the end of the living chain as it swung past. The ladder
was thus completed, and fixed ready for the transit of in-
sects ; and, in a similar way, the whole tree was covered
with festoons of Ants, until it was blackened with their
sable bodies.

They can even cross streams by means of these ladders.

THE DRIVER ANT. 65

Crawling to the end of a bough which overhangs the water,
they form themselves into a living chain, and add to its
length until the lowermost reaches the water. The long,
widespread limbs of the insect can sustain it upon the
water, especially when aided by its hold on the suspended
comrade above.

Ant after Ant pushes forward, and the floating portion of
the chain is thus lengthened, until the free end is swept by
the stream against the opposite bank. The Ant which forms
the extremity of the chain then clings to a stick, stone, or
root, and grasps it so firmly, that the chain is held tightly,
and the Ants can pass over their companions as over a sus-
pension bridge. In the illustration a column of Driver Ants
is shown on the march. The vanguard of the column
has crossed the stream by means of the living ladder,
which is seen suspended from a branch, and extended
across the water. The fragile tube which they build is
also shown, and a few of the larger architects are drawn
of the natural size. The smaller specimens will not
emerge from the tunnel.

There is a species of Ant in Ceylon which makes living
bridges in precisely the same manner as the Driver Ant.
In Mr. E. Sullivan’s “ Bungalow and the Tent” there is the
following passage :—“ I have seen Ants form a bridge from
one stick to another. I even saw one leave his companions,
who were clustered at the end of a stick, unable to reach
another at a short distance, make a considerable circuit,
ascend the stick they were aiming at from another direc-
tion, and by stretching out his body as far as possible,
enable the pioneer of the main body to reach him, and
‘ thus complete the chain of communication, by which the
rest immediately crossed. It would be difficult to prove
that this was not reason.”

Finding that the comparatively gradual action of fire

I

66 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

permitted the active insects to escape before the heat finally
reached them, Dr. Savage waited until they had settled in
their home, and then poured upon them a few gallons of
boiling water, which was instantaneously fatal. As for cold
water, they seem to care little for it; having been im-
mersed for twelve hours, and although they were apparently
dead when removed, yet they soon recovered themselves,
and ran about as lively as ever. Their tenacity of life is
indeed wonderful, and injuries which would immediately
kill almost any creature seem to have no immediate effect
upon their vigour. Another fact, illustrating their tenacity
of life, may here be stated.

“The head of one of the largest class, when dissevered
from the body, grasped the finger of an attendant so furi-
ously, as to cause an immediate flow of blood. It was left
in a glass tumbler from three p.m. till the next morning
at eight o'clock, when the finger was again applied, and
apparently as severe a wound as before inflicted. Another
individual of the same class was decapitated at seven A.M.,
and at half-past nine next morning, twenty-six and a half
hours from the time of decapitation, a piece of newspaper
was held between the jaws, which it grasped and retained
with considerable force.

“T then applied the small finger of my right hand, which
it bit severely ; indeed, so powerful was the grasp, that the
point of the mandibles met beneath the cuticle. It then
partly withdrew one mandible, and, pointing it more per-
pendicularly, penetrated deeper than the other, and thus
at every stroke giving to the mandible a direction more
vertical, wounding and cutting wider and deeper, precisely
in the manner of the insect in possession of all its parts
and powers. The sensation at each thrust was like that
of a pin, and equally painful; and when the mandibles
were withdrawn, the blood flowed as freely. The head

THE DRIVER ANT. 67

continued to give signs of life for more than thirty-six
hours after decapitation. The body to which it belonged
lived still longer, or more than forty-eight hours.”

It is a very remarkable fact that the insect should be so
tenacious of life under circumstances that would be instantly
fatal to most creatures, and yet should die suddenly under
conditions in which many insects live and thrive. The
reader will remember that the direct action of the sun’s
rays will kill the Driver Ant in less than two minutes, and
yet there are Ants of the same country which run about
freely in the blazing sunshine, traversing with impunity
the heated ground, which blisters the bare hand, and being
able to secrete abundant stores of the liquid which they
use in making their habitation.

In Dr. Livingstone’s well-known work, there are several
interesting accounts of Ants and their habits, and one
anecdote bears so aptly on the subject, that I give it in
the writer's own words.

After describing the terrible drought at Chonuane, when
the river Kolobay ran dry and the fish perished, when the
crocodile himself was stranded and died, and the native
trees could not hold up their leaves, he proceeds as follows :
—“ In the midst of this dreary drought, it was wonderful
to see those tiny creatures, the Ants, running abont with
their accustomed vivacity. J put the bulb of a ther-
mometer three inches under the soil in the sun at mid-
day, and found the mercury to stand at 132° to 134°;
and if certain beetles were placed on the surface, they
only ran about a few seconds and expired.

“But this boiling heat only augmented the activity of
the long-legged Black Ants; they never tire ; their organs
of motion seem endowed with the same power as is ascribed
by physiologists to the muscles of the human heart, by
which that part of the frame never becomes fatigued, and

68 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

which may be imparted to all our organs in that higher
sphere to which we fondly hope to rise.

“ Where do these Ants get their moisture? Our house
was built on a hard, ferruginous conglomerate, in order to
be out of the way of the White Ant, but they came despite
the precaution; and not only were they in this sultry
weather able individually to moisten soil to the consistency
of mortar for the formation of galleries, which in their way
of working is done by night (so that they are screened from
the observation of birds by day in passing and repassing
towards any vegetable matter they may wish to devour),
but, when their inner chambers were laid open, these were
also surprisingly humid; yet there was no dew, and the
house being placed on a rock, they could have no subter-
ranean passage to the bed of the river, which ran about
three hundred yards below the hill. Can it be that they
have the power of combining the oxygen and hydrogen
of their vegetable food by vital force as to form water ?”

In corroboration of this opinion, Dr. Livingstone men-
tions an insect found in Angola, and which is allied to the
common cuckoo-spit of England, which has the property of
pouring out great quantities of water, so that a group of
seven or eight insects will produce three or four pints
of water in the course of the night. After stating that
he believes the water to be produced, not from the
sap of the tree, but from the atmosphere, he proceeds as
follows :—

“Finding a colony of these insects busily distilling on
a branch of the castor-oil plant, I denuded about twenty
inches of the bark on the tree-side of the insects, and
scraped away the inner bark, so as to destroy all the
ascending vessels. I also cut a hole in the side of the
branch, reaching to the middle, and then cut out the pith
and internal vessels. The distillation was then going on at

THE DRIVER ANT. 69

the rate of one drop in each sixty-seven seconds, or about
two ounces five and a half drachms in twenty-four hours.
Next morning the distillation, so far from being affected
by the attempt to stop the supplies, supposing they had
come up through the branch from the tree, was increased
to a drop every five seconds, or twelve drops per minute,
making one pint in every twenty-four hours.

“J then cut the branch so much that during the day
it broke ; but they still went on at the rate of a drop every
five seconds, while another colony on a branch of the same
tree gave a drop every seventeen seconds only, or at the
rate of about ten ounces four and one-fifth drachms in every
twenty-four hours. I finally cut off the branch; but this
was too much for their patience, for they immediately
decamped, as insects will do from either a dead branch or
a dead animal. The presence of greater moisture in the
air increased the power of these distillers; the period of
greatest activity was in the morning, when the air and
everything else was charged with dew.”

Three species of Driver Ant are known, namely, the
common species, which has already been described, Anomma
Burmeisteri, and a smaller species, Anomma rubella.

The two first insects are deep, shining black, and
resemble each other so closely that an unpractised eye
could not distinguish between them, while the last may
be easily known by its brownish red hue.

The specimens which have already been mentioned are
now before me, and curious beings they are. The largest
are black, with a slight tinge of red, and have an enormous
head, almost equalling one-third of the entire length. It
is deep and wide as well as long, as indeed is necessary for
the attachment of the muscles which move the enormous
jaws. These weapons are sharply curved, and when
closed, they cross each other, so that when the insect has

70 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

fairly fixed itself, its hold cannot be loosened unless the
jaws are opened. It is useless, therefore, to kill the Ant,
for its head will retain its grasp in death as well as in
life. Beside the sharp points of the mandibles, they are
further armed with a central tooth, which is so formed
that when the mandibles are quite closed, and the points
crossed to the utmost, the tips of the central teeth meet
and form another means of grasping.

There is no vestige of external eyes, and even the half-
inch power of the microscope fails to show the slightest
indication of visual organs. As, however, the horny coat
of the head is sufficiently translucent to permit the articu-
lation of the jaws to be seen through it, when a very power-
ful light is thrown upon the head and the eyes of the
observer are well sheltered, it is possible that the insect
may have some sense of sight, and at all events will be
able to distinguish light from darkness.

The limbs are of a paler red than the body, and
although they are slender and delicate, their grasping
power is very great. ‘l'wo of my specimens had grasped
each other’s limbs with such force that they could not be
separated without damaging the insect, and it was not
until the rigid joints were softened with moisture, and
then with the aid of a magnifier, that I succeeded in dis-
engaging the insects.

The smaller specimens are not so black as the larger,
nor are their jaws so proportionately large, but they are
still formidable insects, if not from their individual size, yet
from their collective numbers and their reckless courage,
which urges them to attack anything that opposes them.
Fire will frighten almost any creature, but it has no terrors
for the Driver Ant, which will dash at a glowing coal, fix its
jaws in the burning mass, and straightway shrivel up in
the heat.

THE MUD WASP. “1

In the collection of the British Museum may be seen a
very remarkable nest, which is made by some species of
wasp at present unknown.

MUD WASP.

The material of which it is formed is mud, or clay, which
is kneaded by the insect until it has attained a wonderful
tenacity and strength, and is rendered so plastic as to be
worked almost as neatly as the waxen bee-cell. It is of

72 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

rather a large size, measuring about thirteen inches in
length, by nine in width, and filled with combs. Unfor-
tunately, in its passage to this country, it was broken and
muchdamaged, butthe fragments were collectedand skilfully
put together by Mr. F. Smith, who has succeeded in restor-
ing the nest to its original shape, with the exception of an
aperture through which the interior of the nest may be seen.

The accident was in so far an advantage, that it gave
opportunities of studying the construction of a nest which
is at present unique, and which the officers of the Museum
might be chary of cutting open, particularly as its materials
are so brittle. The walls of the nest are remarkably hard
and solid, but extremely variable in thickness, some parts
being nearly three times as strong as others. The upper
portions of the nest are the thickest, the reason for which
is evident on inspecting the specimen.

The nest was found in a Guianan forest, near the river
Berbice, suspended to a branch, which passed through a
hole in the solid wall of the nest. In the actual specimen
the branch is wanting ; but in the illustration it has been
restored, in order to show the manner in which the winged
artificers suspended their wonderful home. As is always
the case with pensile nests, the foundation is laid at the
top, thus carrying out Dean Swift’s suggestion for a new
patent in architecture. A large quantity of clay is worked
round the chosen branch, and made very strong, in order
to sustain the heavy weight which will be suspended from
it. This clay foundation is wonderfully hard, though very
brittle, this latter quality being probably due to the long
residence in a room which is always kept warm and dry
by artificial means. In the open air, and in the ever-damp,
though hot atmosphere of tropical America, the clay would

probably be much tougher, without losing the necessary
hardness.

THE MUD WASP. q3

The combs are not flat, like those of an ordinary wasp-
nest, but are very much curved, so that when the nest is
laid open they almost follow the curve of the walls. This
peculiar form of the comb is shown in the illustration.
The cells are not very large, scarcely equalling the worker
cells of the common burrowing wasp of England.

One of the most remarkable points in the construction
of this nest is the entrance. In pensile nests, the insect
usually forms the opening below, so that it may be sheltered
from the wind and rain. Moreover, it is usually of small
dimensions, evidently in order to prevent the inroads of
parasitic insects and other foes, and to give the sentinels
a small gateway to defend. But the particular Wasp
which built this remarkable nest seems to have set every
rule at defiance, and to have shown an entire contempt
of foes and indifference to rain.

As may be seen by reference to the illustration, the
entrance is extremely long, though not wide, and extends
through nearly the length of the nest, so that the edges
of the combs can be seen by looking into the aperture.
The edges of the entrance are rounded, so that the outer
edge is wider than the inner; but it is still sufficiently
wide to allow the little finger of a man’s hand to be passed
into the interior ; while its length is so great, that forty
or fifty insects might enter or leave the nest together.

The remarkable fact has already been mentioned, that
two species of Wasp will inhabit the same nest, and
amicably work at the same edifice. Entomologists have
long been aware that two species of Ant will dwell in the
same nest. and live upon friendly terms, although the
association of the working part of the community is not
voluntary, but compulsory.

The Ant which employs enforced labour is called the

K

74 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

Amazon ANT, and is tolerably common on the Continent.
This insect is not furnished with jaws which are capable
of performing the work that usually falls to the lot of the
neuters ; but the same length and sharpness of the man-
dibles which unfit the insect for work, render it eminently
capable of warfare. When, therefore, a colony of the
Amazon Ants is about to establish itself, the insects form
themselves into an army, and set off on a slave-hunting
expedition.

There are at least two species of Ant which act as
servants to the Amazon Ants, the one being named
Formica fusca, and the other Formica cunicularia ; and
to the nests of one or other of these insects the Amazons
direct their march.

As soon as they reach the nest, they penetrate into all
its recesses, in spite of opposition, and search every corner
for their spoil. This consists solely of the pupee which
will afterwards be developed into neuters; and vast
numbers of the unconscious young are carried off in the
jaws of the conquerors. The rightful owners and relatives
of the captured young cannot resist the enemy, as their
shorter though more generally useful jaws are unable to
contend with the long and sharply-pointed weapons of
their foes.

After the marauding army has returned, the living
spoils are carefully deposited in the nest, where they are
speedily hatched into perfect insects of the worker class,
and immediately take on themselves the labours of the
nest, just as they would have done in their own home.
The Amazon Ant seems to be utterly incapable of work;
and in one notable instance, when a number of them were
confined in a glass-case, together with some pup, they
were not only unable to rear the young, but could not
even feed themselves, so that the greater number died

THE AMAZON ANT. 75

from hunger. By way of experiment, a single specimen
of the slave Ant (Formica fusca) was introduced into
the case, when the state of affairs was at once altered.
The tiny creature undertook the whole care of the
family, fed the still living Amazon Ants, and took charge
of the pup until they were developed into perfect
insects.

Some writers have enlarged upon the hard lot of the
slave Ants, imagining their servitude to be as distasteful
to them as it is sometimes made to human slaves. Mr.
Westwood, however, points out very clearly that any
compassion bestowed upon them is wasted, and that the
lot of the “helots”—if they may be so called—is precisely
that for which they were made. The labours which the
little creatures undertake are not arbitrarily forced upon
them by the dread of punishment, but are urged upon
them by the instincts implanted within them. They would
have worked in precisely the same manner and with
exactly the same assiduity in their own nests as in
that of their captors, and the labours are undertaken as
willingly in the one case as in the other.

They find themselves perfectly at home, and are in every
respect on a par with their so-called masters. In point of
fact, however, the real masters in the nest are the slaves,
for upon themthe Amazons are dependent from their earliest
days to the end of their life, and without them the entire
community would perish. The slaves have no other home
but that to which they have been brought, and are no
more to be pitied than are dogs, cattle, and other domestic
animals that never have freedom. Indeed, none but soli-
tary animals can be free even in the wild state, for they are
held in absolute servitude by the leaders of the herds,
and, if they dare to disobey, are summarily punished.

As the slaves are always neuters, it is necessary that

76 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

fresh importations should be made as fast as the demand
for workers exceeds the supply; and it is really a won-
derful thing that the Amazon Ants should always select
the pup which will afterwards be developed into neuters,
and never take those from which males or females will
issue.

The Amazon of the Continent is not the only Ant which
enslaves the neuters of another species, for in different parts
of the world several species of Ants have been observed
which seize upon workers belonging to other nests, and
bring them to do the work of the home. A Brazilian
species has been observed to act in a similar manner.

In the accompanying illustration are shown two remark-
able nests, made by insects of the same genus, which have
been placed side by side in order to show the different
manner in which cells are arranged by insects which are
closely allied to each other.

The smaller, though more conspicuous nest, is formed by
an insect which is called Polistes aterrima, a name which is
very appropriate to the creature, inasmuch as the generic
title signifies a builder, or the founder of a city, and the
specific name signifies intense blackness, and is given to
the insect on account of its colour. In general shape the
insect resembles other species of its genus, but is rather
larger than the generality of its kin, and is conspicuous
for its deep black cvlour.

The method of nidification which this species adopts is
very peculiar. The cells are formed with beautiful regu-
larity, but are arranged in a very curious fashion. They
are placed with their mouths downwards, as is frequently
the custom with the cells of hymenoptera, but are not quite
perpendicular, inclining alternately to either side. Each
cell is set rather lower than its predecessor, so that the

SINGULAR NESTS. 77

general effect is very peculiar, and gives to the cell-group
a character which renders it at once recognisable.

The second nest which is represented in the same illus-
tration is scarcely so.striking in appearance as the preced-
ing, but is equally interesting, and to many minds more so,
because the architect is at present unknown, and there is

gem

NESTS. POLISTES ATELRRIMA, ETC.

some little mystery about the edifice. That it is the work
of a Polistes is evident enough from the character of the
cells, but it is not made by any of the numerous species
whose nests are already in European collections.

The colour of the combs is a rather sombre brown, so
that at a little distance the whole group would easily escape
notice, especially if it were buried in the depths of the
forest, as is the case with many similar nests. The cells

78 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

are about the same size as those of the curious clay nest
which has already been described, but they are undefended
by any covering, and exposed to the weather.

It has been suggested by some observers that the combs
might have been originally protected by an outer case, and
that the case itself has been lost. The formation of the
branch, however, from which the combs are hung, serves to
militate against any such theory, as the twigs project so far
that they must have been enveloped by the covering if it
ever existed, while upon them there is no trace of any
such material as that of which the nest is made. The in-
ference is, therefore, that they were never intended to be
protected by a cover, but that they were intentionally ex-
posed to the air, as is the case with the habitations of
Polistes and several allied insects, whose homes will
shortly be described.

One of the most curious points in the construction of
this nest is the manner in which it is suspended to the
branch. As is shown in the illustration, the combs are
comparatively narrow at the point of attachment, and gra-
dually increase in width, so that their weight, when filled
with the young brood, must be considerable, and the strain
on the upper part of the comb very great. The manner
in which the insect has met this difficulty is really won-
derful. It has not made the upper part of the comb to
consist of a solid mass, as is the case with the clay nest
which has just been described, but has utilised almost
every portion of the comb from the top to the bottom.
But, in order to obtain the needful strength, the upper
part is constructed after a manner that is widely dif-
ferent from that which prevails upon the lower and wider
portion of the comb.

If one of the combs were broken across, the lower half
would much resemble, except in colour, the nest of an

THE CARDER BEE. 79

ordinary wasp, except that the cells are smaller, and the
material stronger. But, towards the top, the partitions
between the cells become thicker, and in consequence the
cells are fewer. This increased strength is chiefly found
in the partitions which run perpendicularly, and which
are so thick, that the hexagonal form of the cells becomes
obscured, the great object being, not the exact shape of
the cells, but their ability to bear the weight of the comb
below.

The general effect of this modification can be easily
imitated by taking an oblong piece of linen, rounding the
corners, and plaiting one end, just as ladies gather in the
upper part of an apron. The longitudinal folds will then
represent the perpendicular partitions of the cells, and will
show how strength is gained without needless expenditure
of material. The strengthened partitions do not run
quite perpendicularly, but are slightly irregular, just as
would be the case with the folds of the linen if it were
fastened to a branch by the plaited end, and suffered to
hang loosely.

The history of Social Insects would be incomplete
without the mention of several British insects, which are
plentiful enough, but which are scarcely known as well
as they deserve. These are the creatures which are popu-
larly known as Carper BEEs, because they prepare the
materials for their nest in a manner similar to that which
is employed in carding cotton wool or heckling flax.

Several species of Carder Bee are known, all belonging
to that familiar group of insects called Humble Bees.
Among these, as among Humble Bees in general, there is
a great variety of colour, so that the same species has been
called by different names, even by skilled entomologists.
For example, in Kirby’s admirable monograph of British

80 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

Bees, no less than seven varieties of the commonest specics
of Carder Bee are given as separate species.

That such mistakes should he made is no matter of
surprise when we take into consideration the capricious-
ness with which the colours of this species are distributed
among its members. Among the queen Bees, the abdomen
is sometimes marked with rines of yellow, black, and red,
and is sometimes red at the base and tip and black in the
middle. The worker has usually a yellowish abdomen, with
one or two blackish bands, but in some cases the whole
abdomen is black, except a small patch on the base and
another atthe tip. The male Bee has generally the ab«do-
men coloured likethe first mentioned example of the worker,
but sometimes it is wholly black, and in many cases it 1s
black except the tip, which is dim. Indeed, these insects
are so extremely variable, that the only method of deter-
mining their true arrangement is by taking a great number
of nests, breeding the inmates, and subjecting them not
only to careful external cxamination, but also to dissection
of their internal anatomy.

The specific title “ muscorum,” 7@.., “of the mosses,”
which is given to this Bee, is due to the material of which
the next ix usually made. It was generally thought to he
made exclusively of moss, but is in fact constructed of
various substances, according to the locality. Mr. F. Smith
mentions several instances where the Bees had made use
of very singular and unexpected materials.

In one case, Bees were scen flying into a stable through
the latticed window, collecting the little hairs that had fallen
from the horses during the process of currying, making
them up into bundles, and flying off with them. On being
watched carefully, one of the Bees was seen to alight on
some grass, not very far from the stable, and among the
vrass was found the est, which was composed entirely

THE CARDER BEE. 81

of horsehair. Unfortunately this remarkable nest was
destroyed before it was completed.

Another very interesting deviation from the usual
economy of the moss-building Bees was observed by Dr.
William Bell. During the summer of 1854, a robin built
its nest in the porch of his cottage at Putney. Some time
after this had been observed, a Humble Bee took posses-
sion of the nest, and adapted it to her own purpose. He
was unfortunately unable to identify the species by cap-
turing a specimen, the nest having been destroyed; but
Dr. Bell saw the Bee on one occasion, and observed that
it was black, with yellow bands.

Moss, however, is the favourite material of the Carder
Bees, and wherever it can be obtained, they will use no
other substance, though in places where it is scarce, or
not to be found, they employ leaves, grass, or any other
suitable material. Whatever may be the material, the
Bee always takes great pains to disentangle the fibres, in
order to be able to weave them in a systematic manner
into the nest. This process is conducted by means of the
legs, the Bee seizing the fibre with her fore-feet, and pass-
ing it under her body by means of the remaining pairs
of legs, forming it, as she does so, into a small bundle
which can be easily carried off.

The object of the moss and other substances is very
simple. The Carder Bees do not build their nests, like
those of many Humble Bees, beneath the surface of the
ground, but upon it choosing a spot where there is a slight
hollow of an inch or two in depth. The moss is then woven
so as to form a domed cover to the cells, this dome being
of variable dimensions, according to the number of cells
which it covers, but seldom reaching more than three or
four inches in height above the ground. As in very rainy
weather this mossy dome would not be waterproof, the

L

82 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

insects line it with a very coarse, dark-coloured wax,
similar to that of which the breeding cells are made.

The entrance to the nest is always at the bottom; for
although the insects will sometimes make an opening at
the top, they seem to do so merely for the purpose of
admitting air and warmth, and never enter or leave the
nest through it, closing it at night or in rainy weather.
Generally, a kind of tunnel or arched entrance leads into
the nest, like the passage into an Esquimaux snow-house,
an edifice to which the moss-covered dome of the Carder
Bee bears no small resemblance.

The best time to search for these Bees is in the hay-
making season, when the scythe-men often come upon them
during their work; and a promise of some small reward
for this or any other structure will probably produce a
tolerable harvest of nests, as well as of hay.

( 83 )

CHAPTER V.
PARASITIC NESTS.

Various Parasites—Parasitic Birds—The Cuckoo and its kin—The Cow
Birp and its nest—Size of its egg—Comparison between the Cuckoo
and the Apteryx—The Aiprornis—The Biur-racep HoNEY-EATER
or Batigin—General habits of the bird—Singular mode of nesting —
The Sparrow-Hawk and its parasitic habits—The Krsrret—lts
quarrel with a Magpie—The Purrie GRAKLE or Crow BLACKBIRD
—Its curious alliance with the Osprey—Wilson’s account of the two
birds—The SPaRRow as » parasite—Curious behaviour of the STORK
—Parasitic insects—The IcHNEUMON FLizs—The parasite of the
CaBBaGE CATERPILLAR—Its numbers and mode of making its habi-
tation—Trap-doors of the cells—The Australian Cocoon and its
parasites—The Oax-Eccer Moru—Its cocoons and enemies—The
Puss Mora—Its remarkable cocoon—Powerful jaws of the parasite—
Rusy-TaiLeD Fis and their victims—Modes of usurpation—The
Cuckoo Fries or Tachine—Parasites within pupe—Parasites on
vegetables—The GatL Fuies and their home—British Galls: their
shapes, structures, and authors—Foreign Galls, and their uses,

WE now pass to another branch of natural history, and
come to those creatures that are indebted to other beings
for their homes. In some cases, the habitation is simply
usurped from the rightful proprietors, who are either driven
out by main force or are ousted by gradual encroachment.
In other cases, the deserted tenement of cone animal is
seized upon by another, which either inhabits it at once,
or makes a few alterations, and so converts it to its
own purposes. In many instances, however, the habita-
tion of the parasite is found within the animal itself; and

84 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

in some cases the entire body forms the home of the
parasite.

Many examples of the first description may be given.
For instance, where the puffin invades the rabbit-burrows,
and drives out the rabbits by dint of courage and a
powerful beak; or where the Coquimbo owl and rattle-
snake take possession of the homes which had been ex-
cavated by the prairie dog. JHxamples of the second
description of parasites have also been given. The
kingfisher, for instance, usurps the deserted hole of a
water-shrew ; and the humble-bee and wasp usually take
advantage of the deserted burrow of some rat or mouse.
In the account of the sociable weaver-bird, mention is
also made of certain little green parrots, which are apt to
take possession of the great nest, and use it for their own
purpose. And an instance has been recorded where a
carder-bee established herself in the deserted nest of
a wren, and so saved herself the trouble of fetching
materials and building a dome.

Birds of various kinds are notorious parasites, the
Cuckoos ranking as chief among them, inasmuch as they
make no nest at all, but simply lay their eggs in the
nests of other birds, and foist upon them a supposititious
offspring, which occupies the entire nest and monopolises
all the care of its foster-parents.

All Cuckoos, however, do not possess this habit; for
some of the group build nests which are remarkable for
their beauty, and tend their young as carefully as do any
birds. The celebrated Honey-finders, for example, which
are found in most hot portions of the globe, are notable for
their skill in architecture. The nests of these birds are
pensile, and not unlike those of the African weaver-birds,
which have already been described. They are made of

THE COW-BIRD. 85

tough bark, torn into filaments, and are flask-like in shape,
hung from the branches of trees, and having their entrance
from below.

Then there is the well-known Cow-Birp of America,
which is closely allied to the common cuckoo, and yet
which builds its own nest, and rears itsown young. “Harly
in May,” writes Wilson, “they begin to pair, when obstinate
battles take place among the males. About the tenth of
that month they commence building. The nest is usually
fixed among the horizontal branches of an apple-tree;
sometimes in a solitary thorn, crab, or cedar, in some retired
part of the woods. It is constructed with little art, and
scarcely any concavity, of small sticks and twigs, intermixed
with green weeds and blossoms of the common maple. On
this almost flat bed the eggs, usually three orfour in number,
are placed; these are of an uniform greenish blue colour,
and of a size proportionate to that of the bird.

“While the female is sitting, the male is generally not
very far distant, and gives the alarm by his notes when any
person is approaching. The female sits so close that you
may almost reach her with your hand, and then precipi-
tates herself to the ground, feigning lameness, fluttering,
trailing her wings, and tumbling over, in the manner of
the partridge, woodcock, and many other species. Both
parents unite in providing food for the young.”

In this narrative, two points are especially worthy of
notice. In the first place, the egg of the Cow-bird is
proportionate in size to the bird which laid it. Now, one
of the most) remarkable facts connected with the history
of the common cuckoo is, that although the bird is as
large as a small hawk, its egg is scarcely half as large
as that of a thrush or blackbird, as indeed is needful
for its admission into the nest of a hedge-sparrow or
redstart.

86 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

Here, then, we have an example of a bird laying an egg
which is extremely small in proportion to its own size,
while in the apteryx or kiwi-kiwi of New Zealand, we have
an example of a bird laying an egg which is absolutely
gigantic in proportion to its own size. The apteryx is
not a large bird, certainly not larger than a guinea fowl,
and yet its egg looks like that of a swan, and weighs just
one quarter as much as the bird which produced it.
Thus it is evident that the dimensions of an egg afford
no certain criterion respecting the size of the bird that
laid it, and although a large bird usually lays a large
egg, and a small bird lays a little one, the cases may be
reversed, as in the instance just mentioned.

All naturalists are familiar with the gigantic egg laid
by some bird unknown, and called by the provisional name
of Afpyornis, or “tall-bird.” This egg makes that of the
ostrich itself shrink into insignificance, for its lineal mea-
surement is precisely double that of a large ostrich egg,
and its cubic bulk is eight times as great. In fact, the
eepyornis egg looks as gigantic by the side of an ostrich
egg as does an ostrich egg near that of a duck. It was
therefore imagined that the epyornis must be at least
eight times as large as the ostrich, and a height of sixteen
feet was attributed to the unknown bird.

Now, it is easy to work out this problem by the rule
of three, and to give the result in figures; but when that
result is compared with existing facts, it becomes startling.
On paper, a height of sixteen feet for an ostrich-like bird
seems rather gigantic, but does not appear to carry with it
any idea of its real magnitude. The height of a very fine
ostrich being about seven or eight feet, we say that the
eepyornis must be twice as tall as an ostrich, and so dismiss
the subject from our minds. But, when we come to com-
pare the imaginary bird with actually existing beings,

THE ZEPYORNIS. 87

we shall better understand the dimensions of a bird that
measured sixteen feet in height. Sixteen feet is the
average height of the adult giraffe, the females varying
from thirteen to sixteen feet, and the males from fifteen
to eighteen.

It is impossible to say that there never was a bird as
large as a giraffe, but all our present knowledge controverts
such an idea. If, however, we keep in mind the com-
parative dimensions of the apteryx and its egg, we must
be prepared to find that the zpyornis, although necessarily
a large bird, may not be larger than an ostrich, and need
not be so large. —

Thus, then, the comparative size of an egg is by no means
an unimportant fact in natural history, and the comparison
of two such birds as the apteryx and the cuckoo may at
least save us from the danger of generalising too hastily.

The second point in the history of the Cow-bird is its
love for its young, which is quite equal to the affection that
is manifested by the lapwing and other birds that endanger
themselves in order to draw attention away from their off-
spring, and directly opposed to the indifference towards the
young which seems to actuate the ordinary cuckoo.

In Australia there is a large group of rather pretty birds,
popularly called Honey-eaters, because they feed largely on
the sweet juices of many flowers, although the staple of
their diet consists of insects. They seem indeed to occupy
in Australia the position which is taken in America by the
humming-birds, and by the sun birds of the Old World.
To this group belong many familiar and interesting species,
such as that which produces a sound like the tinkling of
a bell, and is in consequence called the Bell-bird ; the dif-
ferent species of Wattle Birds; the odd, bald-headed Friar
Birds, and the splendidly decorated Poe Birds.

88 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.,

One species of it, which comes in the present section,
is the BLur-FAcED Honry-EaTeR of New South Wales,
called by the natives Batikin. It is a pretty bird, the
plumage being marked boldly with black and white, and
a patch of bare skin round the eyes being bright azure.

NONEY-EATER IN NEST.

This peculiarity has earned for the bird the specific title
of cyanotis, or “ blue-eared.”

Like all the Honey-eaters, it is a most lively and
interesting bird, and to the careful observer affords an end-
less fund of amusement. It is never still, but traverses the
branches with astonishing celerity, skipping from one to
another, probing every crevice with its needle-like tongue,

BLUE-FACED HONEY-EATER. 89

hanging with its head downwards, and even suspending
itself by a single claw, while it secures a tempting insect.
It is generally to be found on the eucalypti, or gum-trees,
and is one of the stationary birds, remaining in the same
locality throughout the year.

The generality of the Honey-eaters are skilful architects,
but the Batikin seems not to share the ability of its relatives,
or, at all events, not to exercise it. Mr. Gould thinks that
the bird can hardly depart so far from usual custom as to
be incapable of building a nest, but he has never found
such a nest, nor heard of one. The Batikin is one of the
parasitic group, usurping the nest of another bird, and
taking possession of it in a very curious fashion.

In Australia there is a bird belonging to the genus
Pomatorhinus, which somewhat resembles the bee-eater,
except in plumage, which is quite dull and sober. This
bird builds a large, domed edifice, and appears to make
a new nest every year. The deserted nests are always
usurped by the Batikin, which establishes herself without
any trouble. The reader would naturally imagine that
when the bird finds herself in possession of so large and
warm a nest, she will pass into the interior, and hatch
her young under the protection of the roof. This plan,
however, she does not follow, preferring to take up her
abode on the very top of the nest, exposed to all the ele-
ments. She takes very little trouble about preparing her
home, but merely works a suitable depression upon the
soft dome, lays her eggs in it, and there hatches them.

The reader will remember that there are several birds
which form a supplementary nest upon the exterior of
the original domicile, and the parasitic nest of the Batikin
is evidently an extension of the same principle.

In England we have many parasite birds, one of which
M

90 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

is the common Sparrow-Hawk, which is in the habit
of usurping the nest of the common crow, magpie, or
other bird, and laying its handsome eggs therein.

Whether it forcibly drives away the rightful owner, or
whether it contents itself with a nest which has already
been abandoned, is not precisely known, different naturalists
inclining to opposite opinions. In all probability, there-
fore, both disputants are right, and the Sparrow-Hawk
takes a deserted nest when it can find one, and when it
cannot do so, attacks birds which are in actual possession
of a suitable nest, and takes possession of their home. In
such a case, the combat must be a sharp one, for both
crow and magpie are courageous birds, nothing inferior
in determination to their assailant, and armed with bills
which are much larger, and quite as formidable as that
of the Sparrow-Hawk.

The Kestrew is also in the habit of laying its eggs in
the nests of other birds, and may possibly eject the rightful
owner by main force. ‘This opinion is rendered probable
by a fact mentioned by Mr. Peachey, in the “ Zoologist.”
A man was passing a tree, and hearing a loud screaming
proceeding from a nest at the summit, he had the curiosity
to climb the tree. The screams still continued, and on
putting his hand into the nest, he found two birds strug-
gling, the uppermost of which he caught. This proved to
be a Kestrel, and as soon as it was secured, the other bird,
which was a magpie, flew out, evidently having been
worsted by its antagonist.

Then there is the well-known Startinc, which is a
notably parasitic bird, delighting to take the nests of the
jackdaw, pigeon, and other birds, and to use them as its
own. Every one who has a dovecot knows how apt are the
Starlings to usurp the boxes intended for the pigeons, and

OSPREY AND GRAKLES,

92 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

how in consequence it is accused of killing the young of
the pigeons, and sucking their eggs, two accusations which
I believe to be wholly false. Were the Starlings to be
thus predaceous, the pigeons would be quite aware of their
depredations, and would appear greatly disturbed whenever
the robbers were seen. As, however, the pigeons in one
box live in perfect amity with the Starlings in the next,
it is very unlikely that the latter birds prey in any way
upon the former.

There is a group of birds which are popularly called
Grakles, and are scientifically known as Quiscaline. They
are also called Boat-tails, because their tail-feathers are
formed so as to take the shape of a canoe. One species,
the PURPLE GRAKLE, or Crow-BLACKBIRD, is conspicuous
as a parasitic bird, and selects a most extraordinary spot
for its nest.

Generally, the predaceous birds are avoided and feared
by the rest of the feathered tribes, and if a hawk or eagle
show itself, the smaller birds either hide themselves, or
try to drive away the intruder by force of numbers or
swiftness of wing. The Purple Grakle, however, is
devoid of such fears, at all events as far as one species
of predaceous bird is concerned, and boldly takes up its
abode with the osprey or fish-hawk.

The nest of the osprey is a very large edifice, made
of sticks, grass, seaweed, leaves, and similar materials.
The foundations are made by sticks almost as thick as
broom-handles, and some two or three feet in length,
on which are piled smaller sticks, until a heap some
four or five feet in height is made. Interwoven with
the sticks are stalks of corn and various herbs, the larger
seaweeds and large pieces of grass, the whole mass being
a good load for an ordinary cart, and as much as a horse

THE PURPLE GRAKLE. 93

can be reasonably expected to draw. The bird retains
the nest year after year, and, as has been shown from
actual observation, the same spot has been occupied for
so long a term that the branches of the tree became
rotten, and the nest fell to the ground. In this case it
is evident that a succession of birds must have occupied
the same nest.

It has been observed that whenever a tree is occupied by
the osprey, it dies in a short time, though no one is aware
of the precise nature of the injury which kills it. Some
persons say that the fish-oil which is spilled by the birds is
the cause of death; but when we remember that there is
no better manure than fish, we can hardly believe that the
alleged cause is the real one. Other persons think that
the real cause of death is the huge mass of decaying
vegetable and animal substances which is placed on the
branches, and that the drippings from the nest fall into
casual interstices of the branches, and gradually kill it
from above downwards. So firmly are the materials
interwoven, that when a tree falls on which an osprey
nest is built, large masses of the nest hold together in
spite of the shock.

The construction of the osprey nest has been described
somewhat at length, because the manner in which the
Purple Grakle becomes a parasite could not be understood
unless the structure of the nest were comprehended.

As the sticks of which the foundation of the nest are
made are very large, and not regular in form, considerable
interstices are left between them, and in such spots the
Grakle chooses to nidificate.

In writing of the osprey, Wilson remarks as follows:
“There is one singular trait in the character of this bird
which is mentioned in treating of the Purple Grakle, and
which I have had many opportunities of witnessing. The

94 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

Grakles, or Crow-Blackbirds, are permitted by the fish-
hawk to build their nests among the interstices of the sticks
of which its own is constructed,—several pairs of Grakles
taking up their abode there, like humble vassals around
the castle of their chief—laying, hatching their young,
and living together in mutual harmony. JI have found
no less than four of these nests clustered round the
sides of the former, and a fifth fixed on the nearest
branch of the adjoining tree, as if the proprietor of this
last, unable to find an unoccupied corner on the premises,
had been anxious to share, as much as possible, the com-
pany and protection of this generous bird.’ In another
place, the same writer remarks that the curious allies
“mutually watch and protect each other’s property from
depredators.”

These Grakles exist in great numbers, and sweep over
the land in vast flocks, like our own starlings, their wings
sounding like the blast of a tempest as they rise from the
ground, and their bodies darkening the air. ‘“ A few miles
from the banks of the Roanoke, on the 20th of January, I
met with one of these prodigious armies of Grakles. They
rose from the surrounding fields with a noise like thunder,
and, descending on the length of road before me, covered it
and all the fences completely with black; and when they
again rose, and, after a few evolutions, descended on the
skirts of the high timbered woods, they produced a most
singular and striking effect, the whole trees, for a consider-
able extent, seeming as if hung in mourning; their notes
and screaming the meanwhile resembling the distant sound
of a great cataract, but in more musical cadence, swelling
and dying away on the ear, according to the fluctuations
of the breeze.”

It is evident that such vast multitudes of birds cannot
all have been nurtured in the interstices of osprey nests,

THE SPARROW. 95

Indeed, the generality of the birds build in tall trees,
usually associating together, so that fifteen or twenty nests
are made in the same tree, The nests are well and care-
fully made of mud, roots, and grasses, about four inches
in depth, and warmly lined with horsehair and very fine
grasses. The fact that the bird possesses this capability
of nest-building gives more interest to the occasional
habit of sharing its home with the osprey—a privilege
of which it seems to avail itself whenever an osprey’s
nest is within reach.

The colour of this bird appears at a little distance to be
black, but is in reality a very deep purple, changing in
different lights to green, violet, and copper, and having a
glossy sheen like that of satin.

Our little friend the Sparrow is occasionally a para-
site, following to some extent the custom of the purple
grakle, though it does not select a bird of prey for its
companion.

On the Continent, the common stork builds largely, and
in several countries is protected by general consent, the
slaughter of a stork, or the destruction of its nest and
eggs, being visited with a heavy fine. In consequence
of this immunity, the stork is very tame, building upon
houses as freely as does the martin, and being considered
as a bringer of good luck when it does so.

Any disused chimney is sure to have a stork’s nest upon
the top, and so is a pillar, or any ruin. ‘The nest of the
stork bears a general resemblance to that of the osprey,
and with the exception of the seaweed, is made of similar
materials. It is of huge dimensions, and chiefly consists
of sticks and reeds, heaped together without much arrange-
ment, and having on the top a slight depression, in which
the eggs are laid. As is the case with the osprey nest,

96 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

considerable interstices are left between the sticks, and in
these spots the Sparrow loves to place its nest. Mr. F.
Keyl has told me that he has repeatedly seen the storks
and Sparrows thus living in amity together, the stork
appearing to extend to a weaker bird that protection
which it receives from mankind.

We now pass to the Parasitic Insects. As this work
is intended to describe dwellings which are in some way
formed by the creatures, it is necessary to exclude all
the parasite insects that may exist upon the animal, and
make no habitation, such as the ticks, as well as those
which are merely parasitic within the animal, such as the
various entozoa.

Of Parasitic Insects, the greater number belong to
that group of hymenoptera which is called Ichneumonida,
and which embraces a number of species equal to all the
other groups of the same order. Being desirous of pro-
ducing, as far as possible, those examples of insects which
have not been figured, I have selected for illustration
several specimens which are now in the British Museum,
one or two of which have only been recently placed in
that collection.

The best known of all the Ichneumonide is that tiny
creature called J/ierogaster glomeratus.

A group of these insects and their cells is now before
me, and will be briefly described.

The insects themselves much resemble in general form
the Burnet ichneumon, but are smaller, blacker, and not
nearly so beautiful, although their wings gleam with an
iridescence nearly as brilliant. Small as it is, this tiny
insect is extremely valuable to us, and to the gardener is
beyond all value, though, as a general rule, the gardener

THE ICHNEUMON FLIES. 97

knows nothing about it. Were it not for this ichneumon,
we should scarcely have a cabbage or a cauliflower in the
garden ; for the noisome cabbage caterpillars would destroy
every leaf of the present plant, and nip the growth of
every bud which gave promise for the future.

Every one knows the peculiarly-offensive caterpillars

PARASITIC INSECTS.
Cocoon of Oak-Egger Moth. Cocoon from New South Wales.
Cocoon of Puss Moth. Cocoon of Goat Moth.

which eat the cabbages, and which are the offspring of the
common large white butterfly. In the spring, the butter-
flies may be seen flitting about the gardens, settling on the
cabbages for a few moments, and then flying off again. They
look very pretty, harmless creatures, but, in fact, they are
doing all the harm that lies in their power. Forty or fifty
eggs are thus laid on a plant, and if only one quarter of the

number are hatched, they are quite capable of marring every
N

98 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

leaf. In process of time, they burst from the egg-shell,
and commence their business of eating, which is carried on
without cessation throughout the whole time of the larval
existence, with a few short intervals, while they change
their skins,

When they are full grown, they crawl away from the
plant to some retired spot, and there suspend them-
selves, preparatory to changing into the pupal condition.
A few of them succeed in this task, but the greater
number never achieve the feat, having been the unwill-
ing nourishers of the ichneumon flies, Just before the
larva is about to pass into the pupal state, a number of
whitish grubs burst from its sides, and each immediately
sets to work at spinning a little yellow, oval cocoon.
The walls of the cocoon are hard and smooth, especially
in the interior; but the outside is covered with loose
floss-silk, which serves to bind all the cocoons together.
Generally, they are very loosely connected; but a group
of these little objects is now before me, where the cocoons
are formed into a flattish oval mass, about the size and
shape of a scarlet-runner bean, split longitudinally, and
are bound so tightly together, that their shape can barely
be distinguished through the enveloping threads.

As is the case with the cells of the Burnet ichneumon,
each cell is furnished with a little circular door, which
exactly resembles in shape and dimensions the circular
pieces of paper that are punched out of the edges of
postage-stamps. On the average, about sixty or seventy
ichneumon flies are produced from a single cabbage
caterpillar.

The groups of yellow cells are very plentiful towards
the middle of sammer and the beginning of autumn, and
may be found on walls, palings, the trunks of trees, in
outhouses, and, in fact, in every place which affords

THE ICHNEUMON FLIES. 99

shelter to the caterpillar. Nothing is easier than to
procure the insects from the cocoons, as the yellow mass
needs only to be put into a box, with a piece of gauze
tied over it by way of a cover. Nearly every cocoon
will produce its ichnéumon, and as the little creatures
are not strong-jawed enough to bite through the gauze,
they can all be secured.

There are many species of Microgaster; but those
which have been mentioned are the most important, and
make the most interesting habitations.

The large oval cocoon was brought from New South
Wales, and is evidently the produce of some lepidop-
terous insect, probably a moth allied to the silkworm.
Upon the larva which constructed the cocoon an ich-
neumon has laid her eggs, and the consequence has been
that the caterpillar has been unable to change into the
pupal condition, but has succumbed to the parasites
which infested it. These insects are not of minute
dimensions, like the Microgaster, but are tolerably large,
and in consequence can be but few in number. The
cells are very irregular in shape, and are not rounded
like those of many Ichneumonide, but have angular
edges.

In this, and in one or two other examples which are
shown in the illustration, the reader will note a pecu-
liarity in the development of the parasite. The Micro-
gaster larvee emerge from the caterpillar just before
it undergoes its change into the pupal condition, and
effectually prevent that change by killing the creature
in which they had been nurtured. But in many instances
the ichneumon larva delays its escape until the cater-
pillar has completed its cocoon, and in some cases waits
until the change into the pupal state has been achieved.

100 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

In the present example, the larva has permitted the
cocoon to be made, and then killed the caterpillar, the
reason of this delay being that the cocoon is very firm
and strong, and affords an impregnable shelter to the
parasite.

Within the same case there are several cocoons in
which a similar calamity has befallen the caterpillars
which made them. There is, for example, a cocoon of
the Oax-Eacer Mors, the interior of which resembles
that of the insect which has just been described, except
that the cells of the parasite are more numerous. This
species of caterpillar is peculiarly subject to the attacks
of the ichneumon flies, as is well known to all practical
entomologists, who lose many of their carefully-bred
specimens by means of these insects.

There is also one of the winter cocoons of the Goat Motu
caterpillar, the inmate of which has been pierced by the
ichneumon fly, and killed by its young. As the species
of ichneumon is a large one, only a single individual
was produced, and as may be seen from the cell of the
parasite which is placed by the side of its victim, the
habitation of the ichneumon is so large that it must
have occupied nearly the entire cocoon of the dead cater-
pillar.

In another room, placed among the series of British
moths, is a cocoon of a Puss Motu, which has been occu-
pied by two ichneumon larve.

If the reader should happen to know the cocoon of this
moth, he will remember that it is made of wood-scrapings,
glued together with a cement secreted by the insect, and
that its walls are so hard that a tolerably strong knife is
required in order to cut it open. That the eggs of a parasite

PUSS MOTH. IOI

should be introduced into the body of the larva is not an
extraordinary circumstance, but that the perfect insects
should be able to make their way out of such a cocoon is
really wonderful. The interior of this cell is hard and
smooth, as if made of polished ebony, and its concavity
renders it more difficult of penetration. Yet these sin-
gular insects contrive to make their way through the
sturdy walls.

The ichneumons which usually attack the Puss Moth
are rather large insects, belonging to the genus Ophion,
and have long, slender, curved abdomens, and long
antenne slightly twisted at the ends. The colour is
orange, diversified with black. Those which have made
their cells in the above-mentioned cocoon belong to the
species called Paniscus glaucopterus, and are of a yellowish
hue. It sometimes happens that the insects fail in
making their way through the cell-walls and die in the
interior. This accident, however, seems chiefly to befall
the ichneumons produced in cocoons which are kept in
houses for the purpose of breeding the Puss Moth, and
which are in consequence harder and more dry than
those which remain in the open air, adhering to the
trunks of trees.

Those splendid insects which are popularly called
RvuBY-TAILED Fires, or FIReTAILS, and scientifically are
termed Chrysidide, are also to be numbered among the
parasitic insects.

They make no nests for themselves, but intrude upon
those of various mason and mining bees, and several
other insects. The Firetail does not, however, lay its
eggs in the body of the larva, but makes its way into
the nest while the rightful owner is absent, and places
an egg near that of the bee. The egg of the parasite

102 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

is sometimes hatched at the same time with that of the
bee, but generally later. In the first instance, the larva
feeds on the provisions which were supplied for the bee,
and so starves the poor creature to death; and in the
latter case, it is not hatched until the young bee is large
and fat, and capable of affording ample subsistence to
the parasite, which fastens upon it and devours all the
softer portions.

Then there are the Cuckoo FLiEs, which bear some
resemblance to the common house-fly, but which are
parasitic, feeding on the larve of other insects, and
selecting the same species which are persecuted by the
firetails. When the Tachina larva hag eaten that of the
mason bee, it forms an oval cocoon, and there remains
until the time for becoming a perfect insect. A single
larva of the mason bee seems to be sufficient for the
Tachina grub, as Mr. Rennie has recorded an instance
where tivo larvee of the mason bee were in a nest into
which a single egg of a Tachina had been introduced.
The parasitic larva devoured one of the rightful inhabi-
tants, but did not touch the other, and the cocoons of
the bee and the Tachina were formed side by side.

Sometimes, as has already been mentioned, the chry-
salis itself of a lepidopterous insect becomes the home of
the parasite. Ihave found the pups of various butter-
flies absolutely filled with tiny ichneumon flies of the
most brilliant colours; and in the British Museum there
is an excellent example of a chrysalis, which has been
filled by a single ichneumon fly, of such a size that the
little chrysalis from which it was taken seems scarcely
capable of holding it and its cocoon.

We now pass to a remarkable series of insects belong-

BRITISH GALLS. 103

ing to the same order as the ichneumons, but parasitic
upon vegetables and not on animals. Their scientific
name is Cynipide, and they are popularly known as
GALL FLIES, because they cause those singular excres-
cences which are so familiar to us under the name of
Galls. This group comprises a vast number of species,
all of which have a strong family resemblance, though
they greatly differ from each other in size, form, and
colour.

In the accompanying illustration are given several
examples of British Galls, most of which are tolerably
common in this country, and some of which can be
found in plenty.

In the left hand upper corner of the illustration is
a figure of an oak-leaf, upon which are two globular
projections. These are the well-known “ cherry-galls,”
which are made by a little insect. They are beautifully
coloured, some being entirely scarlet, while others are
white, orange, and red, in various gradations, some-
thing like the colour of a nearly ripe peach, or those
of a Newtown pippin. Perhaps they bear more resem-
blance to the apple than to the peach, because their
surface is highly polished and shining, much like that
of the American apple.

These galls may be found in profusion upon the
oak-leaves, and are most plentiful upon pollard oaks,
upon the youngest trees, or upon the oak underwood
that sprouts around a felled trunk. In such cases
the leaves are much larger, and fuller of juice than
those which spring from adult trees, and the develop-
ment of the gall is proportionately increased. Wher-
ever there is a thick growth of oaken underwood, the
numberless galls which stud the leaves have a remark-

104 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

ably beautiful effect, provided that the observer lies
on the ground, or stoops sufficiently low to perceive
the under-surface of the leaves, to which the galls are
attached.

If one of the galls be cut open with a knife, it

BRITISH GALLS,

Leaf Galls of Oak. Bedeguar of Rose. Galls of Cynips Kollari.
Cynips Kollari (slightly magnified). Currant Galls of Oak.
Oak Apple.

will be found to consist of a soft, pulpy substance,
fuller of juice than an apple, and somewhat resembling
the consistence of a hothouse grape. In the very
centre of the soft mass the knife will meet with
resistance in the shape of a globular cell of hard,

BRITISH GALLS. 105

woody texture, and in the middle of the cell will be
found a tiny grub, perfectly white, very fat, somewhat
resembling the grub of the humble bee, and curved
so as to fit the globular cell in which it lies. This is
the little being for whose benefit the gall was formed,
and the little white grub feeds on the juices of the
gall, precisely as the larva of the ichneumon fly feeds
on the soft portions of the insect in which it tempo-
rarily resides.

On seeing the little creature thus snugly ensconced
in the receptacle which serves it at once for board
and lodging, a question naturally arises as to the
manner in which it was placed there. No aperture
is perceptible in the gall, not a hole through which
air can reach the enclosed larva, which must, therefore,
be capable of existing without more air than can
pass through the minute pores of the vegetable sub-
-stance in which it lies, or must be able to respire
by means of the oxygen which is given out by living
plants.

The question, indeed, is very like the well-known
query as to the manner in which a model of a waggon
and four horses can find its way into a bottle, the
neck of which is so small as to prevent even the head
of the waggoner from passing. The answer is similar
in both cases. The bottle was ingeniously blown over
the waggon and horses, and the gall was formed around
the grub.

When the leaf is in its full juiciness, and the sap is
coursing freely through its textures, a little black insect
comes and settles upon the leaf. She is scarcely as
large as a garden ant, but has four powerful and hand-
some wings, which can be used with much agility. An

entomologist, on seeing her, would at once pronounce
)

106 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

her to belong to the order hymenoptera, and to be
closely allied to the ichneumon flies which have just been
described.

Running to and fro upon the leaf, she fixes upon one
of the nervures, and there remains for a short time,
evidently busy about some task, which is very important
to her, but which her minute size renders impossible to
be observed with the naked eye. If, however, a mag-
nifying glass be applied very carefully to the leaf, the
following process will be seen.

From the abdomen there projects a tiny hair-like
ovipositor, which is coiled in such a manner that it can
be protruded to a considerable length, This ovipositor
is thrust into the leaf; so as to produce a hole, which
is widened by the action of the boring instrument.
Presently, the blades of the ovipositor separate, and a
single egg is seen to pass between them, so that it is
lodged at the bottom of the hole. Into the same aperture
is then poured a slight quantity of an irritating fluid,
and the insect flies away, having completed her task.
The whole proceeding, indeed, is, with the exception of
the deposition of the egg, precisely the same as that
which takes place when a wasp uses its sting, the
ovipositor and sting being but two slightly different
forms of the same organ, and the irritating fluid of the
cynips being analogous to the poison of the wasp.

The effect of the wound is very remarkable. The
irritating fluid which has been projected into the leaf has
a singular effect’ upon its tissues, altering their nature,
and developing them into cells filled with fluid. As long
as the leaf continues to grow, the gall continues to swell,
until it reaches its full size, which is necessarily variable,
being dependent on that of the leaf. I have, for example,
many specimens of these galls, of different sizes, from

BRITISH GALLS. 107

which the insects have escaped, showing that they had
attained their full size. On the juices of the gall the
enclosed insect lives, until it reaches its full term of
imprisonment, when it eats its way through the gall
and emerges into the world. In some cases, it under-
goes the whole of its change within the gall, but in
others, it makes its way out while still in the larval
state, burrows into the earth, and there changes into
the pupal and perfect forms.

To the unassisted eye, the insect which forms the leaf-
gall presents no especial attraction, as it is simply, to all
appearance, a little black fly. When placed under the
microscope, however, it soon proves to be a really beau-
tiful creature, though not possessing the brilliant and
gem-like hues which distinguish’ many of its relatives.
The body still retains its blackness, but has a soft tint
on account of the white and shining hairs with which it
is thickly studded. The eyes are large, stand boldly from
the head, and the many lenses of which these organs are
composed are so boldly defined, that even in so small
an insect they can be distinguished with a very low
power of the microscope. Indeed, the inch and a half
object glass is quite powerful enough to define them,
while the half-inch glass makes them look like the pits
in a lady’s thimble.

The chief beauty of the insect, however, lies in the
wings, which are very large in proportion to the size
of the owner, are traversed by a few, but strong
nervures, and glow with a changeful radiant lustre, like
mother-of-pearl illuminated with living light. In order
to see these wings properly, the insect should be laid on
some black substance, and the light concentrated upon
them by the various means which a microscopist can
always employ.

108 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

The oak is a tree that seems to be especially loved
by gall-insects, which deposit their eggs in its leaves,
its twigs, its flowers, and even in its roots. One of the
most familiar examples of oak-galls is that which is
called the oak-apple, and which is produced by a species
of insect called Cynips terminalis. Although the insect
is not of very great size, the gall which it produces is
sometimes enormous, being as large as a common golden
pippin or nonpareil apple, and therefore very conspicuous
upon the tree. It is coloured in the same manner as the
cherry-gall, but seldom so brilliantly, and the exterior is
not so smooth and polished.

The resemblance to a veritable fruit is much closer at
the beginning of the season than in the autumn, as a
number of small leaf-like projections surround its base,
just as if they were a half-withered calyx. These, how-
ever, fall off as the summer advances, and are no more
seen.

If the oak-apple be cut with a knife, the first touch of
the steel betrays a marked difference between its sub-
stance and that of the cherry-gall. Its texture is neither
so firm nor so juicy, but is of a softer, drier, and more
woolly character. Moreover, the knife passes through
several resisting substances, which, when the gall is quite
severed, prove to be separate cells, each containing a
erub. From each of these cells, which are extremely
variable in number, a kind of fibre runs toward the base
of the gall, and it is the opinion of some naturalists that
these fibres are in fact the nervures of leaves which
would have sprung from the bud in which the gall-fly
has deposited her eggs, and which, in consequence of
the irritating fluid injected into the tree, are obliged to
develop themselves in a new manner.

To procure the insects of this and many other galls is

OAK-APPLES. 109

no very difficult task. The branch to which they adhere
should be cut off, and placed in a bottle of water, and
a piece of very fine gauze tied net-wise over it. The
insects, although they can eat their way out of the gall
in which they have been bred, never seem to think of
subjecting the gauze to the same process, and therefore
can be always secured. It is needful, however, to pro-
cure galls which are tolerably near their full age, as a
branch can only be kept alive for a limited time, and
if the supply of nourishment be cut off by the death of
the branch, the enclosed insect becomes stunted, if not
deformed.

The galls produced by Cynips terminalis are those
which are so greatly in request upon the twenty-ninth
of May, and which, when covered with gold-leaf, are the
standards under which the country boys are in the
habit of levying contributions. A figure of this gall is
seen in the illustration.

Some years ago, when I was calling at the office of
the Field newspaper, then recently started in its race for
popularity, I was shown some oak-branches containing a
vast number of hard, woody, spherical galls, and asked
if I could tell the name of the insect which had produced
them. They had recently made their appearance in the
country, and no one knew anything about them. A branch
beset with these galls is shown in the right hand upper
corner of the illustration, the figures being necessarily
much reduced.

I was totally unacquainted with them, but, in the follow-
ing year, found many of them on Shooter’s Hill, in Kent,
where the growth of oaks is very dense. At the present
day they have increased so rapidly that they outnumber
almost every species, if we except the tiny spangle-galls,

110 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

and I have bred great quantities of the insect. The
creature which made them is named Cynips Kollari, in
honour of the celebrated entomologist, and is plentiful on
the Continent. I believe that it has long been known
in Devonshire, though in Kent it has only recently made
its appearance.

The galls produced by this insect are wonderfully
spherical, of a brown colour, smooth on the exterior, and
about as large as white-heart cherries. ach contains
a single insect, which undergoes all its changes within
the gall, and eats its way ont when it has attained the
perfect form. Occasionally two galls become fused
together, and in my collection there is a very curious
example of these twin galls. They form a figure like
that of a rude hour-glass, and each portion has contained
an insect. The inhabitant of one portion has eaten its
way out and escaped, but the other has met with a
singular fate. By some untoward error, it has taken a
wrong direction, and instead of issuing into the world in
the ordinary way, has hit upon the neck which connects
the two galls, so that, instead of merely piercing half the
diameter of the gall, it would have been forced to gnaw
a passage equal to three half diameters.

Natural powers are always adjusted to the work which
their possessors have to perform. The insect was gifted
with the capability of eating her way through the walls
of her own habitation, but not with the power of making
a passage through another gall afterwards, As a natural
consequence, she has died from exhaustion before she
could emerge into the air; and when I cut the double
gall, in order to see how the inmates had fared, I found
the dead insect lying near the middle of the second gall,
so that she was even farther from the outer air that when
she started on her course.

ROSE-GALLS. III

The Cynips Kollari is larger than the generality of the
family, equalling a small house-fly in dimensions. Its
colour .is pale brown. A figure of the insect may be
seen in the illustration.

Nearly in the centre of the illustration is seen a figure
of the well-known gall that is so common on the rose,
whether wild or cultivated, and which is popularly known
by the name of BreprGuar. ‘This gall is caused by a
very tiny and very brilliantly-coloured insect, named
Cynips rose, which selects the tender twigs of roses,
and deposits its eggs upon them.

I have now before me quite a collection of these galls,
some of which are so variable in shape that they scarcely
seem to have been made by the same species of insect.
When the Cynips rose deposits her eggs upon the rose,
the effects are rather remarkable. Each egg becomes
surrounded with its own cell or gall, and the whole of
them become fused into one mass. The exterior of these
galls is not smooth, like that of the specimens which have
been described, but is covered with long, many-branched
hairs, which stand out so thickly that they entirely con-
ceal the form of the gall itself.

-Reaumur, who gave much attention to galls, thought
that the hairs were formed by the exudation of sap
through little orifices in the growing gall, just as the web
of the spider is formed by the exudation of a glutinous
liquid from minute pores. This theory, however, is
scarcely tenable, because sap has no power of hardening
into threads when exposed to the air, and, besides, a
well-defined vegetable structure is seen in the hairs,
which would not be the case if they were merely har-
dened sap. Moreover, if the hairs were formed in this
manner, they could not have the power of throwing out

112 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

the tiny branchlets with which they are studded, or of
ramifying like the bough of a tree, as is often the case
with them.

The number of galls in a single Bedeguar is mostly
very great. A specimen of average size, taken at random
from the drawer in which the galls are kept, was, when
fully clothed, as large as a golden pippin. When the
hairy clothing was removed, its size notably diminished,
and it was then seen to be composed of a large number
of woody tubercles, varying much in size and shape.
Their average dimensions, however, are about equal to
those of an ordinary pea. The tubercles in question are
fused together more or less strongly, some falling off at
a slight touch, while others cannot be separated without
the use of the knife. There are about thirty-five of these
wooden knobs.

On selecting one of the knobs, and examining it, a
few very small circular holes are seen, showing that the
insects have made their escape from the cells. Indeed,
one or two of the insects were found entangled amid the
dry and crisp hairs that surrounded the gall, and thus
formed a second barrier, which they could not penetrate.
When, however, a sharp knife is carefully used, the
woody tubercle can be laid open in several directions,
and then proves to be a congeries of cells fused together
into one mass, and varying from four to twenty in
number, according to the size of the insect. Per-
haps, on an average, ten cells may be reckoned in each
knob.

In many of the cells the perfect insect may be found,
the death of the rose-branch, and the consequent depri-
vation of sap, having so hardened the walls of the cells
that the inmates have been unable to make their way
out. In other cells may be seen certain odd little objects,

ROSE-GALLS. 113

amber-coloured, hard, shining, and appearing to the un-
aided eye to be nearly spherical. They are about as
large as dust-shot. or a long time I could not satisfy
myself about them, not being able clearly to ascertain
whether they were deceased insects or merely hardened
sap. That they were probably of insect origin was
evident from the fact that they were always found in
cells which had no opening, and from which the insect
had not escaped.

At last, however, one of them happened to lie on the
paper so that it could be well illuminated, and then the
whole mystery was unfolded. These strange little objects
were the pupe of the insects, which had died in the cells,
and shrivelled up into the singular forms which have
been described. ;

The cells are of different sizes, some being more than
ten times as large as others. The superior dimensions
of the cell seem to be obtained at the expense of the
walls, so that the large cells can be broken by the finger
and thumb, while the small cells cannot be opened with-
out the knife.

The insects themselves are equally variable, some being
mere dots of shining blue and green, while others are
about as large as the common red ant of the gardens,
but with plumper bodies. In consequence of these two
facts, the large, strong-jawed insect can easily make its
way through the comparatively thin walls of the large
cell in which it was enclosed, while the small and neces-
sarily weak-jawed specimens are utterly unable to pierce
the walls of their cells, which are so thick that they
must bore a hole equal in length to that of their whole
body before they can escape into the air. Consequently
the great mass of the insects that are found in the
cells are the small specimens, the larger having made their

-P

114 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

escape. I find that on an average twenty small insects
are thus found in proportion to one of the larger kind.

Nothing is easier than the rearing of insects from this
as well as other galls, but to decide upon the species
which make them is by no means so easy a task as
appears on the surface. Hven should the experimenter
find the right species of insect in the gauze bag, he has to
go through the wearisome task of searching through the
family of Cynipide, and identifying the species—a pro-
cess which every entomologist is rather apt to postpone
until the visionary period when he shall have leisure.

But it is very probable that the required insect does
not make its appearance at all, and that the little
hymenoptera which make their way out of the cells, or
are found dead within them, are not the rightful occupants
of the galls. For the Cynipide are as liable to parasites
as other insects, and it frequently happens that from a
single many-chambered gall will issue insects that sadly
puzzle an amateur, as they seem to belong to at least
two distinct species. The very gall which has just been
described affords a good example of this fact, for in some
of the chambers are specimens of the true Cynips rose,
and in others are insects which belong to another family,
the Ichneumonide, which, as the reader may remember,
are parasites upon other insects. They have evidently
introduced their eggs into the cells occupied by the
larvee of Cynips rose, so that the larvee which have been
hatched from these eggs have fed upon the legitimate
occupants, and come to maturity in the cells that were
designed for others.

Insects of totally different orders sometimes make their
appearance. When I began to take to pieces the gall
which has been described, I was rather surprised to find
among the long hairs an empty cocoon of the Galleria

BRITISH GALLS. 11S

moth, whose ravages have been mentioned in an earlier
part of the volume. On further dissecting the gall, no
less than twelve other cocoons were found, all buried
so deeply in the hairs and among the woody cells that
they could not be seen until the hairy clothing was
removed. A person who was entirely ignorant of ento-
mology might naturally fancy that the moths were the
architects of the gall from which they had apparently
issued. How they obtained access to the galls, and on
what food they lived, are two problems that I can by no
means solve. The drawer in which the galls were placed
is tightly closed, and all bee, wasp, and hornet combs
have been so treated with corrosive sublimate, that they
have not been touched by the caterpillars from which
the moths had been developed.

There is another gall, very common in England,
which is found upon the oak, and which is generally
thought, by persons who are unacquainted with botany
or entomology, to be the bud which naturally grows
upon the tree.

In these curious galls, the excrescences with which
they are covered take the form of leaves instead of hairs,
as is the case with the bedeguar and many other galls.
These bud-like objects may be found on the young
twigs, and may be easily recognised by their shape,
which somewhat resembles that of a pine-apple, and the
curious manner in which their leafy covering lies regularly
over them, like the tiles upon an ornamental roof. The
size of the gall is rather variable, but it is, on an average,
about as large as an ordinary hazel-nut.

The gall is so wonderfully bud-like that I have known
the two objects to be confounded—the immature acorns
in their cups to be carried off as galls, while the real

116 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

galls were left on the tree. The incipient naturalist
who made the mistake kept the buds for some eighteen
months, and was sadly disappointed to find that no
insects were produced from them.

The insect whose acrid injection produces this curious
effect upon the tree is rather larger than the leaf-gall
insect, and is of more slender proportions. It has been
suggested that the object of the leafy or hairy covering
is, that the insect, which remains in the gall throughout
the winter, should have a warm house by which it may
be protected from the chilling frost as well as from the
wind and rain.

If the reader will again refer to the illustration, he
will see that from the same branch on which the Cynips
Kollari has formed so many galls, depend two slender
threads supporting one or two globular objects. These
are popularly called CURRANT-GALLS, because they look
very much like bunches of currants from which the
greater part of the fruit has been removed. Their colour,
too, is another reason for giving them this name, as they
are sometimes scarlet, resembling red currants, and some-
times pale cream colour, thus imitating the white variety.

These galls are placed upon the catkins of the oak,
which are forced to give all their juices to the increase
of the gall, instead of employing them on their own
development. Some authors think that the insect which
forms them is a distinct species, while others think that
the galls are the production of the same insect which
forms the leaf-gall, the punctures being made in the stalk
of the catkin and not in the nervure of the leaf.

That this supposition may be correct is evident from
the fact that the same insect which forms the oak-apples
does also deposit its eggs in the root of the same tree,

SPANGLE-GALLS. 117

causing large excrescences to spring therefrom, each
excrescence being filled with insects. I have often
obtained these root-galls, several of which are now before
me, some having been cut open, in order to show the
numerous cells with which they are filled, and others
left untouched, in order to exhibit the form of the
exterior. Being nourished by the juices of the root,
they partake of the sombre hues which characterise the
part of the tree from which they spring, and do not
display any of the colours which are seen on the oak-
apples which spring from the twigs.

There are, however, distinct species of gall insects
which pierce the roots of the oak-tree. One of them
is termed Cynips aptera, and makes a pear-shaped gall
about one-third of an inch in diameter. Each gall con-
tains a single insect, and a number of the galls are often
found attached by their narrow end to the root-twigs of
the tree, something like a bunch of nuts on a branch.
There is another insect which forms a many-chambered
gall of enormous size, containing a small army of insects.
Mr. Westwood mentions that one of these galls in his
possession was five inches long, one inch and a quarter
wide, and produced eleven hundred insects, so that the
entire number was probably fourteen or fitteen hundred.

No one who is accustomed to notice the objects which
immediately surround him can have failed to observe the
curious little galls which stud the leaves of several trees, and
which are appropriately called SPANGLE-GALLS, because they
are as circular, and nearly as flat, as metallic spangles.

These objects had been observed for many years, but
no one knew precisely whether their growth was due to
animal or vegetable agency. That their substance was
vegetable was a fact easily settled, but some botanists

118 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

thought that they were merely a kind of fungus or lichen,
while others supposed that they were the work of some
parasitic insect.

When closely examined, these “ spangles” are seen to
be discs, very nearly but not quite flat, fastened to the leaf
by a very small and short central footstalk. Reaumur
set at rest the question of their origin by discovering
beneath each of them the larva of some minute insect,
but he could not ascertain the insect into which the larva
would in process of time be developed. The task of
rearing the perfect insect from the gall is exceedingly
difficult, the minuteness of the species and the peculiar
manner in which the development takes place, being two
obstacles which require a vast expenditure of care and
patience before they can be overcome.

Supposing a branch containing a number of infested
leaves to be placed in water and surrounded with gauze,
it will die in a week or two, and yet there will be no
sign of an insect. If the branch be kept until the
winter has fully set in, the desired insects will still be
absent, and the experimenter will probably think that his
trouble has been thrown away. The real fact is, that the
little insects are not developed until the spring of the fol-
lowing year, and that they pass through their stages of
the pupal and perfect forms after the leaves have fallen,
and while they are still lying on the ground.

We now pass from the British galls to those which
are found in various other countries. A few of the more
interesting examples are figured in the accompanying
illustration.

Should the reader have the curiosity to examine for
himself the structure of the British galls (as I trust he
will do), he will find that when he cuts a juicy specimen,

INK-GALLS. 119

such as that of the leaf-gall, his fingers will presently
be stained with purple-black. He may wash his hands
as much as he likes, but he will not wash away the
stain, which soon looks as if it had been produced by
spilling ink on the hands. There is reason for such an
appearance, inasmuch as the staining liquid is really ink,
though of a paler hue than that which is used for writing.

FOREIGN GALLS,
Ink Galls. Dead Sea Apple.
Hungarian Gall. Galls of Cynips polycera.

A little lemon-juice will soon discharge the colour, and
then the soap and water will remove the last remnants
of the stain.

Ink is made by mixing a solution of the sulphate of
iron (properly called green vitriol or copperas) with a
decoction of certain oak-galls. Perhaps I may mention
that a “decoction” signifies water in which any sub-

120 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

stance has been submitted to boiling heat, but not
dissolved. Tea, for example, is, when properly made,
a decoction of the leaf, though when made with hot, but
not boiling water, it has no right to the name. The
solution of copperas is only pale green, and that of the
gall is nearly colourless, although when mixed, they
become deeply black. The old practical joke of forcing
a dupe to stain his hands and face black, depended on
the knowledge of these properties.

Before the victim went to wash his hands, some of
the decoction of galls was poured into the water, while
the towel with which he was supplied had been damped
with the copperas solution and then dried. The con-
sequence of this combination was, that although the
hands and face might be washed perfectly clean, yet as
soon as they were dried with the prepared towel the
union of the two substances produced ink, and both
hands and face were deeply stained.

Now when a gall is cut with a knife, the slightly acid
juice acts upon the steel, and so a kind of ink is pro-
duced, which is pale, but still a veritable ink. There
is a well-known method of secret writing which depends
on this property of iron and tannin, the principle con-
tained in the galls.

A quill pen is dipped in the solution of copperas, and
the required message is written, usually between the lines
or among the words of a letter on unimportant subjects,
so as to avoid the suspicions which would be aroused by
a sheet of blank paper. The almost colourless solution
leaves no mark, and the letter passes without comment,
until it reaches the person who is in the secret. He
pours some decoction of galls into a wide and flat vessel,
and warily dips the letter into it, so as to wet it; or
he saturates a cloth with the decoction, and lays the

INK-GALLS. 121

letter upon it. The tannin then acts upon the solution of
iron, ink is formed by their combination, and the formerly
invisible words immediately become plain and legible.

A decoction of oak-bark would make ink, though of
inferior quality, and so would tea, inasmuch as the tea-
leaf contains a large amount of tannin. In fact, when-
ever the ink in the bottle becomes thick, it can always
be restored by adding to it a little strong tea, which
not only gives the requisite liquidity, but does so without
affecting the blackness, which would probably be the
case if simple water were added.

The two principal ingredients of the ink which is
in common use are sulphate of iron and the galls of
a species of oak which grows in large quantities in the
Levant. They are technically termed Aleppo galls, and
are divided into several classes, according to their value.
Besides these two ingredients a little gum is added,
in order to give consistency, and a very little corrosive
sublimate or creosote, to prevent the growth of -mould.
The proportions are generally six ounces of pounded
galls, four ounces of copperas, and four ounces of gum
arabic to six pints of water.

In the upper left hand corner of the illustration two
of these galls are seen upon a branch of the oak.

They are necessarily much reduced in size, their
ordinary dimensions being about equal to those of
Cynips Kollari. For the purposes of trade they are
divided into black, blue, green, and white galls. The
last-mentioned class of galls includes those from which
the insects have escaped, and which are consequently
weakened in astringency. They are so called because
they assume a paler hue than the three first classes,
in which the insect still remains. In shape, the ink-
gall is nearly spherical, with a slight tendency to a

Q

122 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

pear-like form, and their exterior is defended by a few
short, stout, and rather sharp prickles.

IT cannot but think that the gall-insect affords a
proof that the most insignificant objects of creation
have their uses, provided that we could only discover
them. Nature is a vast treasure-house, or rather a
city of treasure-houses, very few of which have been
unlocked, because no one has found the keys. No one
indeed is likely to do so, as long as he chooses to
despise “little things,” and if the only acknowledged
benefit conferred on mankind by the insect tribes had
been the ink-gall, it is a boon so great that every insect
ought to deserve our respect as the possible donor of
some similar aid to civilisation at present unknown.

In the right hand upper corner of the illustration is
seen a gall of some size, and nearly spherical. This
is the celebrated DEap Sea APPLE, of which such strange
stories have been told.

This so-called fruit was said to be lovely and beautiful to
the eye, but, instead of containing sweet juice, to be filled
with bitter ashes, which filled the mouth as soon as it was
bitten. Of course, the ashes were supposed to be drawn
by the tree from the sunken remnants of the three evil
cities beneath the bituminous waves of the Dead Sea, and
to present tangible evidence of their existence.

This story, which was implicitly believed for many
centuries, was at length as decidedly discredited, and
the whole narrative of the ash-filled fruit denounced
as a mere fable. However, recent researches have
proved, as is often the case, that the main facts of
the story are true, though the inference to be derived
from them has been entirely mistaken. In the first
place, these seeming fruits are not produced by any

DEAD SEA APPLE. 123

of those trees which are known to gardeners as fruit-
bearers, but are found only upon a species of oak,
which is in fact the same tree that furnishes the ink-
galls of commerce. At the proper season of the year,
the oaks, which are of low stature, and more like
scrubby bushes than the stately trees which are sug-
gested by the name of oak, are seen to be covered
with round, fruit-looking objects, beautifully coloured,
and closely resembling ripe apples. If, however, they
are cut open, they will be found to be the habitation of
a species of gall-fly.

It is evident that if any one were to bite a gall,
especially one that was produced from the oak, the
exceedingly astringent properties of the excrescence
would produce a very rough and ash-like sensation to
the palate, which would be increased by the dryness of
its substance. Except in size, they much resemble the
gall of commerce, and many persons have thought that
they are produced by the same insect.

Immediately below the Dead Sea Apple, and in the
right hand lower corner, may be seen two remarkable
objects, which would scarcely be recognised as galls except
by an experienced eye. ‘They are, however, the produc-
tion of an insect called by entomologists Cynips polycera.

These galls are found in many parts of Germany, upon
the oak-tree, and are at once recognised by their re-
markable form. As may be seen by reference to the
illustration, they are shaped something like miniature
sugar-loaves, and stand boldly from the branch with
their broad end uppermost. The body of the gall is
slightly conical, so that if cut transversely, it would pre-
sent a circular section. The end, however, is constructed
after a peculiar fashion.

124 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

It is nearly flat, “abruptly truncated” according to
scientific language, and throws out several projections
like horns or spines. The reader will remember that the
ink-gall also possesses short and sharp projections, but
they start from all parts of the surface, whereas in the
present species they belong wholly to the flattened end.
Their number is variable, so that the end of the gall
is sometimes triangular and sometimes squared, besides
assuming other forms according to the number of projec-
tions. This remarkable form has earned for the insect
the name of polycera, this term being derived from two
Greek words which signify ‘‘many-horned.” The insect
which forms this curious gall is about half as large as
Cynips Kollart.

The last example which is represented in the illustra-
tion is also found in Germany upon the oak, and is made
by an insect which is called Cynips Hungarica.

This gall is represented of the natural size, whereas
all the others are much diminished, in order to be in-
serted in so limited a space. It is a very remarkable
object, and cannot be mistaken for any other species.
Its surface is traversed by a variable number of irregular
ridges, which all radiate from the stem, and so pass
longitudinally over the gall. The whole of the ridges
are rough and sharp-edged, but at intervals they shoot
out into hard-pointed horns, much like those which arm
the preceding species. Indeed, the whole substance of
the gall is remarkable for its hard texture, for when cut
with a knife it offers as stubborn a resistance as if it
were seasoned oak or elm. a

That a hymenopterous insect should be able to bore
its way through so hard a substance, and to make a
tunnel barely wide enough for the passage of its body,

HUNGARIAN GALL. 125

and nearly three-quarters of an inch in length, is really
surprising. The insect is not a large one, and resembles
Cynips Kollart so closely that an inexperienced observer
would certainly mistake it for that insect, the distinc-

tions being so trifling that they can only be detected by
means of the microscope.

( 126 )

CHAPTER VI.
PARASITIC NEST S—(continued).

The Oak-tree and its aptitude for nourishing Galls—Compound Galls, or
one Gall within another—The SEnsiTIvE GaLt of Carolina—The
fungus of wine-vaults—Galls and the insects which caused them—
Colours of Galls—Whence derived—The Galls of various trees and
plants—The Cynips parasites upon an insect—Galls produced by
other insects—Mr. Rennie’s account of the BEETLE Ga. of the
Hawthorn—The Berette GALL of the Thistle—Diprerous GaALL-
MAKERS—Leaf-miners and Galls—Size of the larve of Leaf-miners—
The perfect insect and their beauty—Method of displaying the insect
—SocraL LEaF-MINERS—DIPTEROUS LEAF-MINERS—Animal Galls—
The Cuicor and its habits—Its curious egg-sac—Difficulty of extir-
pating it—The penalty of negligence—The Brerze Fires and their
habitations—Wurestgs and their origin—Their influence upon cattle
—The Crervs and its ravages among the hives—The Dritus—Its
remarkable form and the ditference between the sexes—The curious
habitation which it makes.

THe reader cannot but notice the singular aptitude
possessed by the oak-tree for nourishing galls. No part
of the tree seems to escape the presence of a gall of
some sort, diverting its vital powers into other channels.
The tree, however, does not appear to suffer from them,
and it is just possible that they may be useful to it.
The leaves are studded with galls, and so are their stems.
The branches are covered with galls of various shapes,
sizes, and colours, some bright, smooth, and softly
coloured, like ripe fruit, others hard, harsh, spiny, and
rough, as if the very essence of the gnarled branches had

GALLS: 127

been concentrated in them. There are galls upon the
flowers, galls upon the trunk, and even galls upon the
root.

Some oak-galls may be called compound galls. M. Bosc
mentions a small gall which is found upon the American
oak. It is not larger than a pea, and if shaken is found
to contain some hard substance loosely lodged in its
interior. When the gall is cut open, a very curious
state of things is seen. The walls are very thin, so that,
in spite of the small dimensions, the cell is larger than
that of many cynipide. Within the cell, no insect is
discovered, but in its place a little spherical object, about
as large as a No. 5 shot, which is very hard, and rolls
about freely in the interior. If this be opened, the
larva is found within it, reminding the adept in fairy
lore of the white cat whose gifts were enclosed in a
succession of nuts, each within the other. How these
singular little cellules are made is not known, though
their discoverer expended great trouble and patience
upon them.

The same naturalist mentions another species of gall,
also found upon the oak in Carolina. It is spherical,
covered with prickles like a thistle, and beset with a
thick downy covering of rather long hair. Many other
galls possess these characteristics, but the most curious
point connected with this species is, that the hairs are as
mobile as those of the sensitive plant, and as soon as
they are touched, sink down, and never afterwards regain
their former position.

There is a kind of fungus which is found in wine-
vaults, and which exhibits a similar phenomenon. When
newly grown, it hangs in great masses, like tufts of pure
cotton-wool. But to carry a specimen away is im-
possible, for, as soon as it is touched, it begins to con-

128 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

tract, and in a minute or two shrivels up into a flat
membraneous mass, that looks like the web of the house-
spider. M. Bosc was unable to rear any of the inmates
of these galls.

The size of a gall is no criterion of the dimensions or
numbers of the insect which made it. Even in the galls
which infest the oak, the smallest galls often furnish the
largest insects, and in some specimens brought from
Greece, the gall is as large as an ordinary black-currant,
while the cell would contain a red-currant, showing
that the inhabitant of the cell must be a large one in
order to fill it. Again, although the oak-apple and
rose-bedeguar do contain a great number of insects, there
are many examples where galls scarcely so large as a pea
contain from ten to fifteen insects, while the ink-gall
and the large Hungarian gall are inhabited by a single
insect.

One of the most curious problems is, to my mind, that
of the brilliant colours with which many of these galls
are decorated. That the rose-bedeguar should be so
beautifully adorned with scarlet and green is a fact
which does not seem to excite any astonishment, inasmuch
as it may be said that the colours which ought to have
been developed in the petals and the leaves have been
diverted from their proper course, and forced to exhibit
themselves in the gall.

Botanists and physiologists will see that this idea is
quite groundless, but to the uninstructed and popular
mind it has a sort of plausibility that often commands
assent. But when we come to the oak-tree the case is
at once altered, and some other cause must be found for
the lovely colours of its galls. The cherry-galls are as
brightly coloured as any apple, and the soft hues of the

THE GALL-FLY. 129

oak-apple are nearly as beautiful though not so brilliant.
Yet the oak possesses no such storehouse of colour as is
popularly attributed to the rose. Its leaves are simple
green, and its flowerets are so colourless as scarcely to be
distinguished by the unassisted eye.

Whence then are derived these beautiful colours?
Some hasty observers, who have neglected the first rule
of logic, and drawn an universal conclusion from par-
ticular premises, have said that the colours of the gall
are derived from the insect; adducing, as a proof of
their assertion, the brilliant colours which equally deck
the rose-bedeguar and the Cynips rose from which it
sprang. But if they had only followed the example of
careful naturalists, who, like Dr. Hammerschmidt, have
examined and drawn between two and three hundred
species of galls, so hasty a generalisation would never
have been made. ‘The cherry or leaf-gall of the oak is
every whit as gorgeously coloured as the bedeguar of the
rose, while the insect that made it is quite black. It is
true that the diaphanous wings glitter as if they were
made of polished gems; but this appearance is due, not
to the wings themselves, but to the myriad hairs with
which they are regularly studded, each hair acting as a
miniature prism by which the light is refracted and
broken into the resplendent hues of the rainbow.

Many other trees beside the oak are chosen by certain
species of gall-fly, and even the herbs and flowers do
not escape the ravages of these remarkable insects. The
white poppy, from which is obtained the opium of com-
merce, is attacked by a species of gall-fly, which lays its
eggs in the large head, or pod, and sometimes does much
damage to the plant, the delicate divisions between the

seed vessels being rendered quite hard and solid, and the
R

130 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

pod itself deformed. Mr. Westwood has described a species
of gall-fly which infests the turnips, and another species is
known to lay its eggs upon wheat.

As if to show that the family of Cynipide is really
related to the ichneumons, it has been discovered that
some species of this family are actually parasitic upon
other insects, In treating of this remarkable fact, Mr.
Westwood writes as follows:—“The relations of these
insects with the following families (i... Evanide and
Ichneumonidz) have been already noticed. It had al-
ways appeared to me contrary to nature that a tribe of
vegetable-feeding insects should be arranged in the midst
of parasites; nor was it until I had an opportunity of
ascertaining the parasitic habits of some of the species of
the family, that I was enabled to form a just notion as
to the true value of the parasitic or herbivorous nature
of these insects. In June 1833, I detected a minute
species, Allotria victriz, in the act of ovipositing in the
body of a rose-aphis, and I subsequently succeeded in
hatching specimens of the perfect insect from infested
aphides.”

A figure of the tiny insect is given, as it appeared
while in the act of depositing its eggs, and has a rather
remarkable effect, from the fact that the very minute
dimensions of the parasite make the aphis look quite a
large insect. Other species of this family are also known
to be parasitic. The rose-aphis is certainly infested by
two species of gall-fly, and probably by more, while the
aphides which are found on the willow, the cow-parsnip,
and other plants, also fall victims to the Cynipide.
There is one genus of this family, called Figites, which is
parasitic on the larva or pupa of certain dipterous insects.

The Cynipide are not the only insects that produce

BEETLE-GALL. 131

galls upon different plants. For example, several species
of beetle are known to pass their earlier stages in
swellings produced by the puncture of the parent insect.
There is a little weevil of a greyish brown, which is
mentioned by Mr. Rennie as forming a gall upon the
hawthorn.

“In May 1829, we found on a hawthorn at Lee, in
Kent, the leaves at the extremity of a branch neatly
folded up in a bundle, but not quite so closely as is
usual in the case of leaf-rolling caterpillars. On opening
them up, there was no caterpillar to be seen, the centre
being occupied with a roundish, brown-coloured, woody
substance, similar to some excrescences made by gall
insects (Cynips).

“Had we been aware of its real nature, we should
have put it immediately under a glass, or in a box, till
the contained insect had developed itself; but instead of
this, we opened the ball, where we found a small yellow
grub coiled up, and feeding on the exuding juices of the
tree. As we could not replace the grub in its cell, part
of the wall of which we had unfortunately broken, we
put it in a small pasteboard-box with a fresh shoot of
hawthorn, expecting that it might construct a fresh cell.
This, however, it was probably incompetent to perform ;
it did not, at least, make the attempt, and neither did it
seem to feed on the fresh branch, keeping in preference
to the ruins of its former cell.

“To our great surprise, although it was thus exposed
to the air, and deprived of a considerable portion of its
nourishment, both from the fact of the cell having been
broken off, and from the juices of the branch having
been dried up, the insect went through its regular
changes, and appeared in the form of a small greyish
brown beetle of the weevil family.

132 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

“The most remarkable circumstance in the case in
question, was the apparent inability of the grub to con-
struct a fresh cell after the first was injured,—proving,
we think, beyond a doubt, that it is the puncture made
by the parent insect when the egg is deposited that
causes the exudation and subsequent concretion of the
juices forming the gall.” Although the insect in question
succeeded in attaining the perfect state, it would probably
be of stunted growth in consequence of the deprivation
of food. Such, at all events, is the case with insects of
other orders, when their supply of food is at all checked
while they are in the larval state.

There is another weevil which is one of the gall-
makers. It is one of the largest of the British weevils,
being more than half an inch in length, and is very
simply clad in grey and black.

If the reader desires to discover the larva of the beetle
he may probably be successful by going to any waste
spot where thistles are allowed to grow, and examining
them carefully about the stems and roots. Nothing is
more common than to find the stems of thistles swollen
in parts, and in many cases the root is affected as well
as the stem. Fortunately for the gardener, who hates
thistles, even though he should be a Scotchman, as is so
often the case with skilled gardeners, the larva of the
Cleonus feeds on the juices of the plant at the expense
of its life, so that the thistle dies just before the seed is
developed, and a further extension of the plant is thereby
prevented.

There are also gall-making insects among the Diptera.
Such, for example, is the THIsTLE-GALL Fiy, which pro-
duces large and hard woody galls upon the thistle, as

LEAF-MINERS. 133

well as several species of the larger genus Tephritis,
some species of which live in the parts of fructification

of several flowers, the common dandelion being infested
by them.

We may now describe, at fuller length than has hitherto
been done, another group of insects, which live between the
membranes of leaves, and which belong to different orders.

LEAF-MINERS AND ROLLERS.

If the reader will carefully examine the leaves of any
rose-tree which grows in the open air, he will certainly
remark that many of them are notable for certain curious
markings, which look something like the rivers in a
map, and which traverse the leaf in various ways. They
all, however, agree in one point, namely, their gradual and

134 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

regular increase in diameter. At their origin, they are so
small that the finest thread could hardly pass through
them, but in proportion as they increase in length they
increase in width, so that at their termination they are
sometimes the twelfth of an inch in width.

These marks are the tracks made by very small larvee,
which live between the membranes of the leaves, and
feed upon the parenchyma, or soft substance which lies
between the two membranes. They follow no rule in
their meanderings, but traverse the leaf in a variety of
ways. Sometimes they never leave the edge, but follow
every little serration of the leaf with perfect accuracy.
Sometimes they form a kind of spiral, and sometimes
they wander irregularly over the whole leaf. Generally,
the insect does not cross the track which it has once
made, being diverted from doing so by some wonderful
instinct. There are instances, however, where the insect
has crossed its own track, not only once, but several
times.

If the little gallery be opened at the widest extremity,
one of three things will be found. Sometimes there is
a tiny white grub, very much resembling the larva of
certain beetles, and having the rings which represent
the thorax rather wider than those which will afterwards
be developed into the abdomen. As the little creature
is able to live between the membranes of a leaf so thin
as that of the rose or oak, it is evident, to the most
superficial observer, that the insect which will be de-
veloped from it must be of very minute dimensions.

The larva of all winged insects is very large in pro-
portion to the same insects when they have obtained
their perfect form, much of the substance being taken
up by the wings. As a natural consequence, it follows
that the larger the wings, the larger must be the grub,

LEAF-MINERS. 135

the size of the body being quite a secondary considera-
tion. In the present case, the larvae which we are
supposed to examine belong to the lepidopterous order,
in all of which insects the wings, when present at all,
are of great comparative size. If, then, the full-grown
larva is so small that it can lie concealed between the
membranes of a leaf without causing any conspicuous
alteration in its outline, it is evident that the perfect
insect must be of almost microscopical minuteness.
Accordingly, it has been found that the little moths
which have been bred from such caterpillars are so small
that they have almost escaped observation until com-
paratively late years.

How small these insects are may be imagined from the
fact that many species of the Microlepidoptera, as they are
fitly named, do not occupy, even with their wings spread,
a space larger than is taken up by the capital letter at
the beginning of this sentence. To “set” these tiny
creatures is necessarily an extremely difficult task, and
cannot be accomplished by the ordinary plan of running
a pin through the thorax, and extending the wings on
the “setting-board.” The only method of displaying
them is to set them on white cardboard by means of
gum, which is strengthened by many entomologists with
various substances. A sheet of cardboard covered with
specimens of Microlepidoptera neatly set is a very pretty
sight, but needs the aid of the microscope before it can
be perfectly seen.

Even to the unaided eye, the tiny moths are seen to
be beautifully decorated, their wings gleaming in favour-
able lights like the throat of the humming-bird. But
when placed under the microscope, especially, if it be
furnished with a binocular tube, and illuminated by a
suitable light, the wings are positively dazzling in their

136 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

brightness, and hues that formerly seemed to be but
dun and bronze or brown, suddenly flash out into gold and
emerald, each scale distinct and shining, as if of burnished
metal.

Sometimes, when opening the extremity of the leafy
tunnel, we find a tiny chrysalis lying in the little chamber,
and awaiting the time for the shell to burst and the per-
fect insect to emerge. Later in the year, we shall find
neither larva nor pupa, but shall see a little hole in the
leafy chamber, from which issues the shattered end of an
empty chrysalis-shell, showing that the moth has made
its escape into the outer air.

Two examples of other mined leaves may be seen
upon the illustration, both drawn from the actual object.
The specimen in the right-hand upper corner was taken
from the bramble, and has been mined by the larva of
a little moth called Nepticula anomella. It is a very
pretty little creature, though its hues are not brilliant
without the aid of the microscope. The upper wings
are brown, but their tips are beautifully coloured with
bright chestnut. The lower wings are pale grey, without
any of the brilliancy that distinguishes the upper pair.
They possess, however, a compensating beauty in the
long, feathery fringe with which they are edged, and
which, when subjected to the microscope, is seen to
consist of the ordinary scales of the wings exceedingly
developed both in length and width.

The leaves on the left hand were taken from the
garden-rose, and have been mined by the larva of another
species of the same genus.

This beautiful little moth derives its specific name
from the peculiar colouring of the upper wings, which
are bright chestnut, relieved by a broad band of gold
acioss their centre. The tips of these wings are fringed,

THE CHRYSANTHEMUM BLY. 137

and the lower pair are nearly white, and edged with a fringe
similar to that which has already been described.

As a general rule, the leaf-mining caterpillars are
solitary ; and if even two or three are found in the same
leaf, each leads an isolated life, and does not inhabit
the same burrow as its neighbour. There are, however,
exceptions to this rule, as to most others, and certain
species of leaf-miners inhabiting the henbane, live har-
moniously together between the membranes of the same
leaf. They are larger than the ordinary species, and
are remarkable for their power of burrowing into a fresh
leaf when ejected from their former habitation, a power
which does not seem to belong to the caterpillars of the
Microlepidoptera.

Although the greater number of these insects belong
to the lepidoptera, the rule is by no means an universal
one. Many beetles are thus parasitic’ within the leaves
of plants, and, as a general rule, they belong to the
family of Curculionids, or weevils. There are also
several species of dipterous insects which have this habit,
among which may be named the CHRYSANTHEMUM FLY,
which burrows into the leaves of the flower. There is
also a genus of flies called Phytomyza, 7.¢., Plant-sucker,
the different species of which select particular plants and
burrow between the membranes of their leaves. The
holly, for example, is infested by one species, the honey-
suckle by another, and the common heart’s tongue by a
third.

We must now glance at a few of the insects that are
parasitic upon other animals. ‘Their numbers are very
great, but we must restrict ourselves to those which con-
struct some sort of a habitation.

138 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

The only insect which can be said to be parasitic on
man, and at the same time to form a habitation, is the
celebrated CHIGOE, otherwise called the JiaGrr, or Harta
Fiy. This terrible pest is a native of Southern America
and the West Indian Islands, and is too well known,
especially by the negroes and natives.

This insect, which is closely allied to the common flea,
and much resembles it in general appearance, contrives
to hide itself under the nails of the fingers or toes,
usually the latter. Having gained this point of vantage,
it proceeds very gradually to make its way under the
skin, and, strange to say, does so without causing any
pain. There igs a slight irritation, rather pleasing than
otherwise, to which a novice pays no attention, but which
puts an experienced person on his guard at once.

The male Chigoe is innocent of causing any direct
injury to man, the female being the cause of all the
mischief. As soon as she is settled, her abdomen begins
to swell until it becomes quite globular, and of great
comparative size, and containing a vast quantity of tiny
eggs. Pain is now felt by the victim, who generally has
recourse to the skilful old dames, who have a kind of
monopoly of extracting Chigoe “nests.” With a needle,
they carefully work round the globular body of the buried
insect, taking great care not to break it, as, if a single
egg remains in the wound, all the trouble is wasted.
By degrees they gently eject the intruder, and exhibit
the unbroken sac of eggs with great glee. To prevent
accidents, however, the wound is filled with a little Scotch
snuff, which certainly causes rather a sharp smarting
sensation, but effectually destroys any egg or young insect
that may perchance have escaped notice.

Europeans and natives of the better caste escape easily
enough, because they always take warning by the first

THE CHIGOE. 139

intimation of a Chigoe’s attack, and generally succeed in
killing her before she has succeeded in burying herself.
Moreover, the shoes and stockings of civilised man pro-
tect his feet, and the gloves guard his hands, so that the
insect does not find many opportunities of attacking the
white man.

But the negroes, and especially the children, suffer
terribly from the Chigoe. Children never are very apt
at sacrificing the present to the future, and the negro
child is perhaps in this particular the least apt of all
humanity. The Chigoe is in consequence seldom disturbed
until it has made good its entrance, and even then would
not be mentioned by the child, on account of the pain
which he knows is in store for him. But the experi-
enced eyes of the matrons are constantly directed to the
feet of their children, and if one of them is seen to hold
his toes off the ground as he walks, he is immediately
captured and carried off to the operator, uttering dismal
yells of apprehension.

He certainly has good reason for his fears. The
Chigoe nest is duly removed, and then, partly to prevent
the hatching of any egg that may have escaped during
the operation, and partly to punish the delinquent for
his disobedience, the hollow is filled, not’ with snuff
(which is too valuable a substance to be wasted), but
with pounded capsicum. ‘The discipline is certainly
severe, but it is necessary. After a child has once paid
the penalty of negligence, he seldom chooses to bring
such a punishment on himself a second time, and as
soon as he feels the first movements of a Chigoe, away
he goes to have it removed before it can burrow under
the skin.

If the Chigoe be allowed to remain, the results are
disastrous. Swellings make their appearance along the

140 SOCIAL HABITATIONS.

limbs, the glands become affected, and if the cause is
permitted to remain undisturbed, mortification takes
place, and the sufferer dies. So the red-pepper dis-
cipline, severe as it may be, is an absolute necessity
with those who are unable to reason rightly, or to exer-
cise forethought for the future. Every evening the negro
quarter of the villages is rendered inharmonious by the
outcries of the children who have neglected to report
themselves in proper time, and who in consequence are
suffering the penalty of their negligence.

There are some insects which produce upon animals
certain swellings which are analogous to the galls upon
trees. Such, for example, is the well-known BREEZE
Fy, which is so troublesome to cattle. The larve of
this insect live under the skin of the animal, and in
some manner raise a large swelling, that is always filled
with a secretion on which they live. In fact, the swell-
ing is a gall produced on an animal instead of a plant,
and the enclosed insect feeds in a similar manner upon
the abnormal secretion which is induced by the irritation
of its presence.

The larvee are fat, soft, oval-bodied creatures, and are
notable for the flattened end of the tail, on which are
placed two large spiracles or breathing-holes.

Although the larva which inhabits the vegetable gall
seems to have but small need of air, and to all appear-
ance can exist without any apparent channel of com-
munication with the external atmosphere, such is not
the case with the inhabitant of the animal gall. An
opening is always preserved in the upper part of the
swelling, and the tail of the grub is tightly pressed
against the aperture so as to ensure a constant supply
of air.

THE BEEEZE FLY. I4t

In the months of May and June, these swellings may
be found in great plenty. They are mostly seen upon
young cattle, and as a general rule. are situated close to
the spine. So common indeed are they, that out of a
whole farm-stock of cattle I have seen almost every cow
under the age of four years attacked by the Breeze Fly,
and counted from two or three to twelve or fourteen
upon a single animal. It is said that as many as forty
have been detected upon a single cow, but such an event
has not come within my own observation.

The swellings caused by the Breeze Fly are called
Wurbles, or Wornils, and can be easily detected by
passing the hand along the back. Strangely enough, the
cow does not appear to feel any pain from the presence
of these large parasites, nor dves she suffer in condition
from them, although it would seem that they must keep
up a continual drain upon the system. Indeed, some
experienced persons have thought that, instead of being
injurious, they are absolutely beneficial.

When the grub has reached its full development, it
' pushes itself backwards ont of the gall, and falls to the

ground, into which it burrows. Presently, the skin of
the pupa becomes separated from that of the larva, and
the latter dies, and becomes the habitation in which the
pupa lives. The head portion of the skin is so formed
that it flattens when dry, and can easily be pushed off,
like the lid of a box, permitting the perfect fly to escape.
Even when the insect is still in its pupal condition this
lid can be removed, so that the pupa can be seen within
its curious habitation. I may mention here that insects
which are thus covered while in their pupal state, so as
to show no traces of the creature within, are said to
undergo a “coarctate” metamorphosis. Nearly all the
_diptera are examples of the coarctate insects.

142 SOCIAL HABITATIONS,

Before we close the subject of parasites, it will be
needful to give a brief account of one or two parasitic
insects which possess points of peculiar interest in the
habitations which they make, or in the places wherein
they find their abode.

One of these insects is a rather pretty beetle, termed
Clerus alvearius. In its perfect state it is innocent
enough, but in its larval state it is so destructive among
the hives, that all bee-keepers will do well to destroy
every Clerus that they can catch. It is generally to be
found on flowers, licking up their sweet juices by means
of a brush-like apparatus attached to the mouth. The
wing-cases of most of the species are bright red, barred
or spotted with purple.

The larva is of a beautiful red, and is hatched from
an egg placed in the cell occupied by the bee-grub.
As soon as it is hatched, it proceeds to feed upon the
bee-grub, and devours it. Unlike many insects with
similar habits, it is not content with a single grub, but
proceeds from cell to cell, devouring all their inhabitants.
When it has eaten to the full, it conceals itself in the
cell, and spins a cocoon of rather small dimensions in
comparison with its own size. In process of time, it is
developed into a perfect insect, and then breaks out of
its cocoon and leaves the hive, secure from the bees,
whose stings cannot penetrate the horny mail in which
it is encased.

There is another beetle which is parasitic upon snails,
and which, in its larval and pupal states, is only to be
found within those molluscs. Its scientific name is
Drilus flavescens, the latter name being given to it in
honour of its yellow-tinted wing-cases, which present
a pretty contrast with the black thorax. It is a little

PARASITIC BEETLES. 143

beetle, scarcely exceeding a quarter of an inch in length,
and is remarkable for the beautiful comb-like antenn
of the male. As for the female, she is so unlike her
mate that she has been described as a different insect.
She has no pretensions to beauty, and can scarcely be
recognised as a beetle, her form being that of a mere
soft-bodied grub. Moreover, the size of the two sexes
is notably different. The male is, as has already been
observed, only about a quarter of an inch long, while the
female is not far from an inch in length, and is broader
than the length of her mate, antennze included.

This curious insect lives in the body of snails, the
common banded snail of our gardens being its usual
prey. When it is about to change into the perfect
state, it makes a curious cocoon, of a fibrous substance,
which has been well likened to common tobacco; the
scent as well as the form increasing the resemblance.
The grub or larva of this beetle bears a very great
resemblance to the. perfect female, and indeed is so
similar that none but an entomologist could distinguish
the two creatures. It is furnished with a number of
false legs, as well as with a forked appendage at the
end of the tail, by which it is enabled to force its way
into the body of its victims. The head is pointed, and
the jaws are very powerful.

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