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HOMES WITHOUT HANDS

BEING A DESCRIPTION OF

THE HABITATIONS OF ANIMALS, CLASSED ACCORDING TO
THEIR PRINCIPLE OF CONSTRUCTION.

iltf

THE REV. J! G. WOOD, M.A., F.L.S., Etc.,

AUTHOR OP TIIE "ILLUSTRATED NATURAL HISTORY," "COMMON OBJECTS OF THE SEA-SHORE ANI>
COUNTRY," ETC., ETC., ETC.

WITH NEW DESIGNS BY W. F. KEYL AND E. SMITH.

ENGRAVED BY MESSRS. PEARSON.

NEW YORK:
HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS,

FRANKLIN SQUARE.

1866.

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PREFACE.

The object of this work is so fully given in the title-page, that
little more remains to be said in the preface.

Beginning with the simplest and most natural form of habita-
tion, namely, a burrow in the ground, the work proceeds in the
following order: — 2d, those creatures that suspend their homes
in the air; 3d, those that are real builders, forming their domi-
ciles of mud, stones, sticks, and similar materials; 4th, those
which make their habitations beneath the surface of the water,
whether salt or fresh ; 5th, those that live socially in communi-
ties ; 6th, those which are parasitic upon animals or plants ; 7th,
those which build on branches. The last chapter treats of mis-
cellanea, or those habitations which could not be well classed in
either of the preceding groups. .

In all these classes a definite order has been preserved, the
Mammalia having precedence, and being followed in regular or-
der by the other members of the group. Thus, in the first few
chapters, which treat of the Burrowers, the following system has
been observed : — First comes Man, the chief of all the mamma-
lia, and in due zoological order follow the Moles and Shrews,
the Foxes, the Weasels, the Eodents, and the Edentates. The
White Bear alone is removed from its legitimate place, on ac-
count of its singular habitation in the snow. The Burrowing
Birds come next in order, those which burrow in the earth tak-
ing precedence of those which make holes in wood. Burrowing
Reptiles follow next in order; and then come the Burrowing
Invertebrates, headed by the Crustacea. The same system is
followed throughout, so as to give the reader a clear and defi-

yi PREFACE.

nite idea of the subject. For this reason, a table of contents is
appended to the work, as well as an alphabetical index; the
one to enable the reader to form a general conception of the
subject, and the other to enable him to find out any particular
creature.

On perusing the work, the attentive reader will probably dis-
cover that various animals are placed in one class when they
might very well be in another. The reason is, that many crea-
tures, such as the wasp, the ant, the squirrel, etc., might with
equal propriety find a place in several of these classes, and I have
therefore placed them in that class of which some peculiarity in
nest-making renders them fit illustrators.

I must now return my thanks to the many friends who have
assisted me in the work, by the loan or gift of specimens, or by
affording valuable information. Among them I must especially
mention J. Gould, Esq., who kindly took an interest in the or-
nithological portion of the work ; R Smith, Esq., of the British
Museum ; and the late Charles Waterton, Esq., who permit-
ted me the use of his museum, and gave me much interesting
and useful information.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.
BURROWING MAMMALIA.
Introduction. — Man as a Burrower. — The Mole and its Dwel,:ng. — Difficulty of
observing its Habits. — Complicated structure of its Fortress, and its Uses. —
Character of the Mole. — Adaptation of its Form to its mode of Life. — Common
Objects. — The Shrew Mole, Elephant Shrew, and Musk Rat. — The Arctic
Fox. — Structure of its Limbs. — Form of its Burrow. — Its Character, Fur, and
Flesh. — The common Fox. — Mode of Burrowing and economy of Labor. — The
young Family. — The Weasel, and some of its Habits. — The Badger and its
Burrow. — The Prairie Dog, or Wish-ton-Wish. — Dog-towns. — Unpleasant
Intruders. — The Rabbit, and the Warren. — Self-sacrifice. — Study of animal Life.
— The Chipping Squirrel. — Curious form of its Dwelling. — Its subterranean
Treasures. — The Woodchuck, the Pouched Rat, the Camas Rat, the Mole
Rat, and the Sand Mole. — The White Bear. — Its curious Dwelling. — Snow as
a Shelter. — The Pichiciago. — Its Form, Armor, and Burrow. — The Armadillos
and their Habits. — The Manis. — The Aard Vark, its Food and Dwelling. —
The Mallangong. — Its strange Habits and its Burrow. — The Porcupine Ant-
Eater. — Its burrowing Powers Page 19

CHAPTER II.

BURROWING BIRDS. ■
The Sand Martin. — Mode of Burrowing and Shape of the Tunnel. — Enemies of the
Sand Martin. — Midges and Martins. — The Kingfisher and its Habits. — Its Bur-
row and peculiar Nest. — Number 8f the Eggs. — The Puffin a feathered Usurper.
— The Feroe Islands and the Puffins. — Pro aris et focis. — The Mutton Bird and
its Burrows. — Snakes and Birds. — The Jackdaw, Stockdove, and Sheldrake.
— Nest of the Sheldrake. — The Bee-eater and its Habits. — Its Burrow and Nest.
— The Stormy Petrel. — Its Mode of Nesting and shallow Tunnels — Mode of
feeding its Young. — Evil Odor of its Burrow. — The Woodpecker. — Its Uses and
misunderstood Character. — Method of Burrowing. — The Fungus and the Wood-
pecker.— American Woodpeckers. — The Wry-neck. — Its popular Names and Lo-
cality of its Nest. — The Starling. — Its social Character. — Locality of its Habita-
tion.— The Tree Creeper. — The Nut-hatch and the Hoopoe. — Curious Nest
of the Hoopoe. — The Cole-tit and its Habits. — A Cole-tit's Nest at Walton Hall.
— The Toucan. — The enormous Beak and its Uses. — Nest of the Toucan. — The
Swift. — Its Nest and Eggs. — Its curious Feet and their Structure 7-t

CHAPTER III.

BURROWING REPTILES.
The Reptiles and their Hibernation. — The Land Tortoise and its Winter Dwell-
ing.— The Crocodiles. — Snakes. — The Yellow Snake of Jamaica.— Its gen-
eral Habits. — Its burrowing powers discovered. — Presumed Method of removing
the Earth 102

Vlll CONTENTS.

CHAPTER IV.
BURROWING INVERTEBRATES.

CRUSTACEA.

The Land Crabs and their Habits. — The Violet Land Crab. — Its Burrows, its
Combativeness, and its pedestrian Powers. — The Fighting Crab, why so called.
— The Racer Crab of Ceylon. — Its Burrows, and Mode of carrying off the Soil.
— The Robber Crab. — Its Form and general Habits. — Food of the Robber Crab.
— A soft Bed and well-stocked Larder. — The Cheldra, and its Ravages among
Timber. — The Gribble and its Kin Page 104

CHAPTER V.
BURROWING MOLLUSKS.
The Boring Snail of the Bois des Roches. — Opinions as to its Method of Burrow-
ing.— Shape of the Tunnels. — Solitary Habits of the Snail. — The Piddock, its
Habits and Appearance. — Structure of the Shell, and its probable Use. — Method
of Burrowing. — Use of the Piddock and other marine Burrowers. — The Balance of
Nature preserved. — The Wood-borer and its Habits. — The Date Shell. — Its
extraordinary Powers of Tunneling. — The Razor Shell. — Its Localities and
Mode of Life. — The Flask Shell and the Watering-pot Shell. — The Ship-
worm. — Its Appearance when Young and Adult. — Its curious Development. —
Its Ravages, and the best Method of checking them. — Its Value to Engineers.
— The Giant Teredo. — Form, Dimensions, and Structure of the Shell. — How
and where discovered 11-t

CHAPTER VI.

BURROWING SPIDERS.
The Scorpion and its Habits. — The Burrow of the Scorpion. — How detected. —
Suicide among the Scorpions. — Spiders and their Burrows. — The Atypus. — Ma-
dame Merian and her Book of the Bird Spider. — Mr. Bates's Discoveries. — Hair
of the Bird Spider. — The Tarantula. — Its Ferocity and Courage. — The Trap-
door Spider. — Its Tunnel and the Lining thereof. — Its Appearance under the
Microscope. — The " Trap-door" itself, and its Structure. — Curious Example of
Instinct. — Activity of the Spider. — Specimen in the British Museum. — Strength
and Obstinacy of the Trap-door Spider.— An Australian Trap-door Spider... 128

CHAPTER VII.

BURROWING INSECTS.

HTMENOPTERA.

The Sauea Ant and its Habitation. — Use of the "Parasol" Leaves. — Mr. Bates's
Account of the Insect.— Enormous Extent of the Dwelling. — The Duskt Ant.—
Its Strength and Perseverance. — Man and Insect contrasted. — The Brown Ant.

Form of its Habitation. — Regulation of Temperature. — Necessity of Moisture.

—How the Ant constructs Ceilings.— Mining Bees.— The Andrena and its bur-
rowing Powers. — The Eucera. — Its Habitation and curious Method of liberating
the Antennre. — The Scolia, its Burrows and its Prey.— The Indian Sphex and
its Ingenuity. — The Mellinus and Oxtbelus.— Curious Method of catching
prey. The Philanthus, its Burrow, and the Food of its Young. — The Humble-
bee— its general Habits. — Locality of its Dwelling.— Development of the Young.
—The Lapidary Bee, its Colors, Disposition, and Habits. — The Wasp— its Food
and Habitation. — Materials and Architecture of the Nest. — Disposition, Form,

CONTENTS. IX

and Number of the Cells.— Biography of a Queen Wasp, and History of her Nest.
—Other British Wasps and their Homes.— The Monedrila and its Prey.— Bold-
ness of the Insect, and its Uses to Travelers.— The Bembex.— Its energetic Hab-
its, its Food, and Mode of storing the Nest VaSQ uo

CHAPTER VIII.

BURROWING BEETLES.
The Tiger Beetle and its Habits.— Beauty of the Insect, its Larva, and Mode of
Life. — Curious Form of its Burrow. — The Sexton Beetle and its Power of
digging in the Ground. —The Dor Beetle — its polished Surface, and the Sub-
stances in which it Burrows. — Use of the Dor Beetle. — The Scarab^us of
Egypt and its wonderful Instincts.— The Egg, the Grub, and the Cocoon.— Co-
coon in the British Museum. — The Mole-cricket, its Form and elaborate
Dwelling.— Its general Habits and wide Distribution.— The Field-cricket and
its Tunnels. — Structure of the Ovipositor. — The Migratory Locust and its
Development. — The Ant-lion, its Form, Food, and Mode of Life. — The Pitfall
and its Structure. — Mode of catching Prey. — Perfect Form of the Ant-lion.. 169

CHAPTER LX.
WOOD-BORING INSECTS.
Beetles.— The usual Form of the Wood-borers.— The Scolttus and its Ravages.
— Mode of forming the Tunnels. — Curious Instinct. — Theories respecting the Scol-
ytus. — Worm-eaten Furniture, its Cause, and the best Method of checking the
Boring Insects.— Ginger and Cork Borers.— The "Petrified" Man. — The Meal-
worm and its Ravages. — Weevils. — The Palm Weevil of Jamaica. — Its Devel-
opment, and Uses as an Edible. — Its Cocoons. — The Wasp Beetle, its Shape,
Colors, and tunneling Powers. — The Musk Beetle. — Its Beauty and Fragrance.
— Difficulty of detecting the Musk Beetle. — Its Burrows and their Inmates. —
The Rhagium and its Cocoon. — The Harlequin Beetle. — Wood-boring Bees. —
Willow Bee, its Tunnel, and Mode of making the Cells. — Food of the Young.
— The Poppy Bee. — The Pith-boring Bees and their Habits. — Structure of the
Cells and Escape of the Young. — Economy of Labor. — Shell-nesfs of Bees. —
Wonderful adaptation to Circumstances. — How the Bee burrows. — The Hoop-
shaver Bee. — Gilbert White's Description of its Habits. — The Sirex and its
Burrow. — Its Ravages among Fig-trees. — Formidable Aspect of the Insect. — The
two British Species. — Carpenter Bee. — Mode of making its Burrow. — Method-
ical Labor. — Food of the Young. — How to make a Ceiling. — Number of Cells in
each Burrow. — The Carpenter Bee of Australia. — The Pelop.eus as a Wood-
borer. — Its Tunnel, and Mode of making Cells. — The Saperda. — Damage caused
to Aspen and other Trees. — A useful Parasite. — The Goat Moth. — Wood-leopard
Moth. — Clear-wings and Honey-comb Moths 186

CHAPTER X.
PENSILE MAMMALIA.

TnE Harvest-mouse — its Appearance. — Reason for its Name. — Mouse Nests. —
Home of the Harvest-mouse. — A curious Problem. — Food of the Harvest-mouse,
and its Agility. — The Squirrel. — Its summer and winter "Cage." — Boldness
of the Squirrel. — Materials for the Nest, and their Arrangement 213

X CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XI.
PENSILE BIRDS.
Weaver Birds and their general Habits. — Red-billed Weaver Bird. — Its bo-
vine Friends. — Its Use to the Buffalo. — Other parasitic Birds. — .The Spotted-
backed Weaver Bird. — Its Nest and variable Method of Construction. — The
Mahali Weaver Bird. — Shape of the Nest.— Singular Defense. — Theories re-
specting the Structure. — Habits of the Bird. — Remarkable Nests of Weavers. —
Account of Weavers engaged in Nest-building. — Very curious Contrivance. —
The Gold-capped Weaver. — Structure and Situation of the Nest. — The Taha
Weaver Bird. — Locality selected for its Nest. — Destructiveness to Crops. — The
Palm Swift. — Its general Habits. — The Nest and its variable Structure. — Silk-
cotton. — The Tailor Bird. — Antiquity of Handicrafts.— Structure of the Nest.
—The Fan-tailed Warbler. — Singular Method of fixing its Nest.— The Pendu-
line Titmouse. — Its Habits and Food. — Remarkable Nest and its Form Page 219

CHAPTER XII.

PENSILE BIRDS (Continued).
Australian Pensiles. — The Yellow-throated Sericornis. — Its Habits. — Singular
Position for its Nest. — Conscious Security. — The Rock Warbler. — Shape and
Locality of its Nest. — The Yellow-tailed Acanthiza^ — Its Color and Song. —
Supplementary Nests. — The Pinc-pinc and its Home. — Supposed Use of the sup-
plementary Nest. — The Singing Honey-eater and its Nest. — The Myall or
Weeping Acacia. — Various Materials. — The Lunulated Honey-eater. — A new
Material. — The Painted Honey-eater, its Habits and Nest. — The Art of Pres-
ervation.— Nests and their Branches. — The Color of Eggs. — The White-throat-
ed Honey-eater and its Habits. — Its curious Nest. — Locality of the Nest. — The
Golden-crested Wren, and the Resemblance of its Nest to those of the Honey-
eater. — The Swallow Dioeum. — Its Song, and Beauty of its Plumage. — The
Nest, its Materials, Form, and Position. — The Malurus and its Nest. — The Ham-
mock Bird.— Singular Method of suspending the Nest. — The White-shafted
Fantail.— Strange Form of the Nest.— The Appendage or Tail of the Nest.. 234

CHAPTER XIIT.
PENSILE BIRDS (Continued).
American Pensile Birds. — Humming-birds, and the general Structure of their
Nests.— The Little Hermit, its Color, Habits, and Nest.— The Gray-throated
Hermit and its Hardihood. — The Pigmy Hermit and its Seed-nest.— The Long-
tailed Humming-bird.— Mode of building its Nest.— The White-sided Hill
Star. — Curious Method of suspending its Nest. — The Sappho Comet. — The
Chimborazian Hill Star.— Curious Locality.— Its Habits, Food, and Nest.—
The Sawbill and its singular Nest.— Habits of the Sawbill.— The Brazilian
Wood Nymph.— Use made of its Plumage and its Nest.— The Ruby and Topaz
Humming-bird.— Stuffed Skins.— The Azure Ccereba, its Color, Nest, and Hab-
its.— The Baltimore Oriole. — Reason for its Name.— Its beautiful Nest, and
curious Choice of Materials.— Familiarity of the Baltimore Oriole. — The Orchard
Oriole, or Bob-o'-Link. — Various Forms of Nest.— Why called Orchard Oriole.
—The Crested Cassique, its Size, Form, and Colors.— Its remarkable Nest.—
Difficulty of obtaining Nests.— The Great-crested Fly-catcher, and its use
of Sernent-sloughs. —The Red-eyed Fly-catcher, Whip-Tom-Kelly. —Low

CONTENTS. XI

Elevation of its Nest.— The White-eyed Fly-catcher, its Nest, and Fondness
for the Prickly Vine.— The Prairie Warbler, its Habits and Nest.— The Pine-
creeping Warbler.— The Asiatic Pensiles.— The Baya Sparrow.— Its Color
and Social Habits.— Singular Form of the Nest Page 249

CHAPTER XIV.

PENSILE INSECTS.
The Hymenoptera.— Australian Insects.— The Crematogaster and Negro-head.
— The Green Ant, its Habits and Nest. — An African Species. — Pensile Ants of
America. — The Abispa and its remarkable Nest. — Ingenious Entrance. — The
Tatua, or Dutchman's Pipe. — Structure and Shape of its Nest. — Firmness of
the Walls. — Average Number of Cells in each Tier. — The common Wasp as a
Pensile Insect. — Gigantic Nest. — Union of three Colonies. — Character of the
Wasp. — The Norwegian Wasp. — Structure and Locality of its Nest. — Classifica-
tion of the Wasps. — The Campanular Wasp and the Northern Wasp. — The
Chartergus, or Pasteboard Wasp. — Mode by which the Nest is suspended. —
Method of Structure. — Meaning of the Name. — Enormous Nest from Ceylon. —
Various Wasp Nests. — The Polistes as a Pensile Insect. — Singular Nest in the
British Museum. — The Gibbous Ant. — Honey Wasps, the general Characteris-
tics of their Nests. — The Myrapetra. — Its singular Nest. — Structure of the
Walls and Use of the Projections. — The Nectarinia. — Why so called. — Locality
of the Nest. — Size of the Insect. — The Trigona and its Nest. — Ichneumon Flies.
— Different Species of Microgaster, and their Habitations. — The Perilitus. —
Weevils. — Beautiful Cocoon of Cionus. — The Emperor Moth and its Home. —
The Atlas Moth and other Silk Producers. — The House-builder Moth and
its movable Dwelling. — The Tiger Moth and its Hammock. — The Burnet
Moths, and their curious Homes. — The Drinker Moth, its Cocoon and insect
]?oes. — The Oak-egger Moth. — Method of killing Insects. — Cocoon of the Oak-

egger. Origin of its Name. — The Little Egger Moth. — Air-holes. — Nests

discovered by Mr. Bates. — The Cypress-spurge Moth. — Various Leaf-rollers. —
Suspended Cocoon. — Leaf-burrowers and their Homes. — The Spider.... 209

CHAPTER XV.

BUILDERS.
Building Mammalia. —Definition of the Title. —Inferiority of the Mammalia as
Architects.— The Brush-tailed Bettong.— Its Structure and Color.— The Nest
of the Bettong, and its Adaptation to the Locality.— Singular Method of convey-
ing Materials.— Its nocturnal Habits.— The Rabbit-eared Bandicoot and its
Habitat.— The generic Title.— Curious Form of the Ears and Feet.— Difficulty in
discovering its Nest.— The Musquash, or Ondatra.— Its general Habits.— Its
burrowing Powers, and Extent of its Tunnels.— The Musquash as a Builder.—
Form and Size of its House.— Mode of Killing the Animal by Spear, Gun, and
Trap.— Its Flesh and Fur .• 323

CHAPTER XVI.
BUILDING BIRDS.
The Oven Bird and its place in Ornithology.— Its general Habits.— Nest of the
Oven Bird.— Curious Materials and historical Parallel.— The Specimens in the
British Museum.— The internal Architecture of the Nest.— Division into Cham-
bers.—The Pied Grallina.— The Specimens at the Zoological Gardens.— Mate-

xii CONTENTS.

rials and Form of the Nest. — Boldness of the Bird. — The Song Thrush and its
Nest. — The Blackbird and its clay-lined Nests. — Supposed Reasons for the Lin-
ing.— The Fairy Martin. — Locality, Shape, and Materials of the Nest. — Social
Habits of the Bird. — How the Nest is built. — The Rufous-necked Swallow. —
Locality and abundance of its Nests. — Curious Habit of the Bird. — Audubon's
Account. — The Rufous-bellied Swallow. — Supplementary Nest. — How the
Bird builds. — Popular Superstition and its Uses. — The House Martin. — Mate-
rial of its Nest. — Favorite Localities. — Ingenuity of the Martin. — Adaptation to
Circumstances. — Parasitic Intruders, their Number, Dimensions, and Tenacity of
Life. — The Swallow. — Distinction between its Nest and that of the Martin. —
Why called the Chimney Swallow. — Tallegalla, or Brush Turkey. — The Il-
lustration explained. — Various Names of the Bird. — Its singular and enormous
Nest. — How the Eggs are laid and hatched. — Egress of the Young. — Remarkable
Instinct. — Australian Jungle Fowl. — Shape, Size, and Position of its Nests. —
How the Eggs are discovered. — Leipoa, or Native Pheasant. — Its Mound-nest,
and general Habits Page 327

CHAPTER XVII.
BUILDING BIRDS (Continued).
Nesting of the Hornbills. — Dr. Livingstone's Account of the Korwe, or Red-
breasted Hornbill. — The Long-tailed Titmouse. — Its general Habits. — Its
Use to the Gardener. — Number of the Young. — Form and Materials of the Nest. —
Localities chosen by the Bird. — How to prepare the fragile Eggs. — The Magpie.
— Its domed and fortified Nest. — The common Wren and its Nest. — Pseudo-nests
and their probable Origin. — The House Wren of America. — Its Habits and
Mode of Nesting. — Wilson's Account of the Bird. — Its Usefulness and quarrel-
some Nature. — The Lyre Bird. — Origin of its Name. — Its domed Nest. — The
Albert's Lyre Bird and its Habits. — The Bower Bird. — Why so called. —
Civilization and social Amusement. — The remarkable Bower. — Its Materials and
Mode of Construction. — Use to which it is put. — The Bower Birds in the Zoolog-
ical Gardens, and their Habits. — Love of Ornament. — Meaning of the scientific
Name. — The Spotted Bower Bird of New South Wales. — Its Bower. — De-
scription of the Birds, and their place in the present System 344

CHAPTER XVIII.

BUILDING INSECTS.
The Termite, or White Ant. — General Habits of the Insect. — African Termites
and their Homes. — Termites as Articles of Food. — Indian Termites. — Account
of their Proceedings. — American Termites. — Mr. Bates's Account of their Hab-
its.— European Termites. — Their Ravages in France and Spain. — M. de Quatre-
fages and his History of the Termites of Rochefort and La Rochelle. — The Eu-
menes and its mud-built Nest. — The Trypoxylon of South America. — The Pe-
lopjeus and its curious Nest. — The Mud-dauber Wasp. — Mr. Goss's Account
of its Habits. — The Melipona of America. — Mr. Stone's Wasp Nests and their
History. — Difference of Material. — The Foraging Ants of South America and
their various Species. — Nests and Habits of the Foraging Ants. — The Agricul-
tural Ant of Texas. — Dr. Lincecum's Accounts of its Habits 360

CONTENTS. Xill

CHAPTER XIX.

SUB-AQUATIC NESTS. VERTEBRATES.
Fishes as Architects. — The Sticklebacks and their general Habits. — The Fresh-
water Sticklebacks. — A jealous Proprietor. — Punishment of Trespassers. —
Form and Materials of the Nest. — Use of the Nest. — Cannibalistic Propensities.
— The Fifteen-spined Stickleback and its Form. — Its curious Nest. — Mr.
Couch's description of a Nest in a Rope's End. — Fishes of Guiana. — The Hassar
or Hardback, and its place in Zoology. — Nest of the Hassar. — Parental Watch-
fulness.— Singular Position of the Nest. — Habits of the Hassar Page 392

CHAPTER XX.

SUB-AQUATIC NESTS. INVERTEBRATES.
A Pool and its Wonders. — The Water Spider. — Its sub-aquatic Nest. — Convey-
ance of Air to the Nest. — The Diving-bell anticipated. — Character of the Air in
the Nest. — Mr. Bell's Experiments upon the Spider. — Life of the Water Spider. —
The Htdrachna. — The Caddis Flies and their Characteristics. — Sub-aquatic
Homes of the Larva. — Singular Varieties of Form and Material. — Life of a Cad-
dis.— Description of Nests in my own Collection. — Fixed Cases, and Modification
of Larva. — Singular Materials for Nest-building. — Corals and their general His-
tory.— The Coral of Commerce. — Development and Extension of the Coral. —
How fresh Colonies are founded. — Various Corals and their Growth. — Submarine
Tube-makers. — The Serpul.e and their general Habits. — The Operculum of the
Serpula. — The Terebell^e and their submarine Houses. — The Caddis Shrimp.
— Remarkable Analogy 397

CHAPTER XXI.
SOCIAL HABITATIONS.
social mammalia.
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 Enlargement.— 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 Supersti-
tion.— "Les Paresseux" 431

CHAPTER XXn.
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 So-
cial Nest.— Average Number of Inhabitants.— Analogy with Dyak Houses.— En-
emies of the Sociable Weaver, the Monkey, the Snake, and the Parrakeet 438

CHAPTER XXIII.
SOCIAL INSECTS.
Arrangement of Groups.— Nests of Poltbia.— Curious Method of Enlargement.—
Structure of the Nests.— How concealed.— Various Modes of Attachment.— A cu-
rious Specimen.— The Hive-bee, and its claims to Notice.— General History of

xiv CONTENTS.

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 pro-
duced.— Theories of different Mathematicians. — Measurement of Angles. — A log-
arithmic 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 fa-
vorite Localities. — Difficulties of taking a Hornet's Nest. — Habits of the Insect. —
Mr. Stone's Method of taking the Nest. — The Synceca and its Habitation. — Beau-
tiful Nests in the British Museum. — Description of the Insect. — Nest of the Eu-
cheira. — Its external Form. — Curious Discovery in Dissection. — A suspended
Colony. — Conjectures respecting the Structure. — 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 Moth and
its beautiful social Nest. — Description of a Specimen from Wiltshire. — Illustration
of the Theory of Heat. — The Brown- tailed Moth and its Nest. — Social Habita-
tions of the Peach and Small Tortoise-shell Butterflies Page 442

CHAPTER XXIV.

SOCIAL INSECTS (.Continued).
A curious Ant from India (Myrmica Kirbii). — 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 Py-
thon.— Their Mode of March. — Fatal Effects of the Sunbeams. — An extemporized
Arch. — Method of escaping from Floods. — Site of their Habitation. — Modes of
destroying 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 Meth-
od of Attachment. — Variety of Polistes Nest. — Polistes atemmus and its singular
Nest. — Beautiful Structure of an unknown Polistes 468

CHAPTER XXV.

PARASITIC NESTS.
Various Parasites.— Parasitic Birds.— The Cuckoo and its Kin.— The Cow-bird
and its Nest.— Size of its Egg.— Comparison between the Cuckoo and the Ap-
teryx. The ^ptornis.— The Blue-faced Honey-eater or Batikin.— Gen-
eral 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 Behavior 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 Moth, its Cocoons and Enemies.— The Puss Moth.— Its remarkable Co-
coon._pOWerfulJaws of the Parasite. — Ruby-tailed Flies and their Victims.—
Modes of Usurpation. — The Cuckoo Flies or Tachina;. — Parasites within Pupse.
—Parasites on Vegetables. — The Gall Flies and their Home. — British Galls,
their Shapes, Structures, and Authors.— Foreign Galls, and their Uses 487

CONTENTS. XV

CHAPTER XXVI.

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 Insects which caused them. — Colors 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
Gall of the Hawthorn. — The Beetle Gall of the Thistle. — Dipterous Gall-
makers. — Leaf-miners and Galls. — Size of the Larva; of Leaf-miners. — The per-
fect Insect and their Beauty. — Method of displaying the Insect. — Social Leaf-
miners. — Dipterous Leaf-miners. — Animal Galls. — The Chigoe and its Hab-
its.— Its curious Egg-sac. — Difficulty of extirpating it. — The Penalty of Negli-
gence.— The Breeze Flies and their Habitations. — Wurbles and their Origin.
— Their influence upon Cattle. — The Clerus and its Ravages among the Hives.
— The Drilus, its remarkable Form, and the difference between the Sexes. — The
curious Habitation which it makes Page 517

CHAPTER XXVII.
BRANCH-BUILDING MAMMALIA.
The Dormouse in Confinement and at Liberty. — Nest of the Dormouse. — Its Posi-
tion, Materials, and Dimensions. — Entrance to the Nest. — The winter Treasury.
— The Loire and the Lerot. — Mai^ as a Branch-builder. — Moselekatze. — Hte
Conquests. — Effects upon the People. — Branch-houses. — Their Approaches.. 531

CHAPTER XXVIII.
FEATHERED BItANCH-BUILDERS.
The Rook and its Nesting-place. — Materials and Structure of the Nest. — Some
Habits of the Rook. — The Crow. — Difference between the Nest of the Rook and
the Crow. — The Heron and its Mode of Nidification. — The Heronry at Walton
Hall. — Rustic Ideas respecting the Heron's Nest. — The Chaffinch. — Locality
and Structure of its beautiful Nest. — Mode of obtaining Materials. — The Gold-
finch and its Home. — Distinction between the Nests of the Goldfinch and Chaf-
finch.— The Bullfinch. — Locality and Form of its Nest. — Variability of Struc-
ture.— The Blue-eyed Yellow Warbler.— Curious Materials of its Nest. — Its
remarkable Habits. — The Bald-headed Eagle. — Why so called. — Wilson and
Audubon's Account of its Nest. — The Golden Oriole and its beautiful Nest. —
Mode of catching the Bird. — The Red-winged Starling, its Value and Demer-
its.— Its gregarious Habits. — Locality and Structure of its Nest. — The Yellow-
breasted Chat and its odd Ways. — Its Courage and Affection for its Nest and
Young. — Structure of its Nest. — The Ringdove and its curious Nest. — The
Whitethroat. — Description of the Locality and Structure of the Nest. — Reasons
for its various popular Names. — The Mocking-bird. — The Water Hen and its
Nesting. — Its habit of covering the Eggs 538

CHAPTER XXIX.

FEATHERED BRANCH-BUILDERS (Continued).

The Sedge Warbler. — Its Nest and Loquacity. — The Reed Warbler. — "Use of

its peculiar Tail. — Localities haunted by the Bird. — Song of the Reed Warbler.

— Its deep and beautifully-balanced Nest. — Color of the Eggs. — The Indigo

Blrd. — The Capocier. — Familiarity of the Bird. — Le Vaillant's Experiments. —

XVI CONTENTS.

How the Nest is made. — Division of Labor. — Lover's Quarrels. — Structure of the
Nest. — Humming-birds again. — The Fiery Topaz. — Its nocturnal Habits. — Ap-
pearance of the Nest. — Its Shape, and the Materials of which it is made. — The
Hermit Humming-birds and their Nests. — The Kuby-throated Humming-bird.
— Variable Dimensions of the Nest. — Concealment. — Mr. Webber and his Dis-
coveries.— Variable Form and Positions of the Nest. — Materials of which it is
made. — Its deceptive Exterior. — Feeding of the Young. — The Vervain Hum-
ming-bird.— How the Nest assumes its Shape. — The Red-backed Shrike. — Use
of the Shrike in Falconry. — Their singular Mode of Feeding. — Impaled Prey. —
Conspicuous Character of the Nest. — Popular Ideas concerning the Red-backed
Shrike. — Structure of the Nest. — The Hedge Sparrow. — Its proper Title. — Care-
lessness about its Nest. — Foes of the Hedge Sparrow. — Its Fecundity. ...Page 564

CHAPTER XXX.
BEANCH-BUILDERS.

SPIDERS AND INSECTS.

Remarkable Spider Nests in the British Museum. — Seed-nests and Leaf-nests. —
Nests of the Tufted Spider. — Form and Coloring of the Spider. — Its curious
Limbs. — Nests illustrative of the Hexagonal Principle. — Nest of the Icaria. —
The Equal Pressure and Excavation Theories. — Nest of Mischocyttarus and its
remarkable Form. — Nest of the Raphigaster. — Summary of the Argument. —
The Processionary Moth. — Reasons for its Name. — How the Larvae march. —
Damage done by them to Trees. — A natural Remedy. — The Calosoma and its
Habits. — The Gipsy Moth. — Its Ravages upon Trees and Mode of destroying it.
— The Social Principle among Caterpillars. — Mr. Rennie's Experiments. — The
Lackey Moth. — Supposed derivations of its popular Name. — The Eggs, Larvae,
and perfect Insects. — Habits of the Moth. — The Brown-tailed Moth. — Locality
where it is found. — Its Ravages abroad. — Nests of the Icaria as they appear in
Branches. — The Apoica : its remarkable Nests. — Singular Nests from the British
Museum. — Nests discovered by Mr. Lord 582

CHAPTER XXXI.

MISCELLANEA.
The Polyzoa and their varied and beautiful Forms. — The Raft Spider. — Why so
called. — Mode of obtaining Prey. — Mice and their Homes. — The Campagnol or
Harvest-mouse. — Its general Habits. — Its winter and summer Nest. — Its Store-
house and Provisions. — Entrance to the Nest. — The Wood Mouse and its Nest.
— Uses of the Field-mice. — The Domestic Mouse. — Various Nests. — Rapidity
of Nest-building. — A Nest in a Bottle. — The Cell of the Queen Termite. — Its
Entrances and Exits. — Size of the Inmates. — The Fungus Ant and its singular
Home. — Material, Structure, and Size of the Nest. — The Clothes Moths and
their various Species. — Habitations of the Clothes Moth, and the Method of For-
mation and Enlargement. — The Elk and its winter Home. — The Snow Fortress
and its Leaguers. — Its Use, Advantages, and Dangers. — The Albatross and its
Mode of Nesting. — Strange Scenes. — The Edible Swallow. — Its Mode of Nest-
ing.— Origin of its Name. — Description of the Nest. — Curious Legend respecting
the Bird.— The Eagle and its Mode of Nesting.— Difficulty of reaching the Eyrie.
— The Nightingale and its Nest.— Other ground-building Birds and their tem-
porary Homes. — The Noddy. — Perilous Position of the Eggs and Young. — The
Coot, and its semi-aquatic Nest 608

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

FULL PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS.

PAGE

Osprey and Grakles (see page

494) Frontispiece.

Prairie Dog 41

Giant Armadillo 61

Robber Crab 110

Trap-door Spider 135

scarab.eds, etc 174

Xylocopa, etc 202

Harvest-mouse 215

African Weavers 221

Abispa, etc 271

PAGE

Tallegalla 339

Termite 361

Stone's Wasp Nests 378

Sticklebacks 395

Corals, etc 410

Beaver 434

Social Lepidoptera 461

Dormouse 533

Poltzoa 610

Elk 629

Albatross 642

ILLUSTRATIONS IN THE TEXT.

Fortress of the Mole

"Earth" of the Fox

The Rabbit Warren

Burrow and Store - houses of
Chipping Squirrel

Canada Pouched Rat (and plan
of Burroio*)

Polar Bear

Pichiciago

Aard Vark

Mallangong or Duckbill

Sand Martin

Kingfisher

Puffin

Petrel

Woodpecker

Toucan

Land Crab

Pholas in Wood. — Razor Shell.
— Pholas in Rock. — Lithodo-
mus

Ship- worm

Myrmeleon. — Ampulex. — Scolia.

Bombus Terrestris. — Bombus
Lapidarius

Wasp Nest

Cocoons of Scarabjeus and Go-
liath Beetle

Gryllus depositing Eggs

34
44

50

53
55 -
59
65
67
75
78
81
86
89
99
105

119
125

148

154
161

177

181

Scolttus 187

Rhagium, etc 194

Sirex 200

The Tailor Bird 232

Ptilotus Sonorus. — Entomophila
Picta. — Entomophila Albogu-

laris. sericornis cltreogu-

laris. — Origma Rubricata 235

Swallow Diceum 245

Lanceolate Honey-eater (Plec-

torhynchus lanceolatus) 247

Little Hermit (Plmethornis eremi-

ta) 250

Sawbill Humming-bird. — Brazil-
ian Wood Nymph. — White-
sided Hill Star 257

Crested Cassique. — Baltimore

Oriole 260

Baya Sparrow 268

Tatua Morio 275

Chartergus Nidulans 280

Nectarinta. — Myr apetr a 283

Nest of Polistes 295

olketicus and atlas moths 300

Oven Bird 328

Fairy Martin. — Pied Grallina.. 330

The Long-tailed Titmouse 347

The Bower Bird 357

EUMENES AND AgELENA 371

n

XV11L

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

PAGE
TRYPOXYLON AND PeLOP,EUS 372

Eciton 384

Water Spider 399

Caddis 403

Terebella Conchilega. — Serpu-

la contortuplicata. sabella

Unispira. — Sabella Alveola-

ria 415

Sociable Weaver Bird 439

Poi/ebia 443

Bee-hive 446

Hornet 458

Small Ermine Moth 465

Driver Ants 470

Mud Wasp 479

Nests. Polistes Aterrima, etc. 482

Honey-eater in Nest 491

Parasitic Insects. Cocoon of
Oak-egger Moth (Cryptus fu-
mipermis). — Cocoon from New
South Wales (Pimpla). — Co-
coon of Puss Moth (Pa.7iisais
glaucopterus). — Cocoon of Goat

Moth (Lamprosa setosd) 497

British Galls. Leaf Galls of
Oak. — Bedeguar of Rose. —
Galls of Cynips Kollari. —
Cynips Kollari {slightly magni-
fied).— Currant Galls of Oak.
— Oak Apple 501

Foreign Galls. Ink Galls. —
Dead Sea Apple. — Hungarian
Gall. — Galls of Cynips Poly-

cera 513

Leaf Miners and Rollers 522

Nest of the Chaffinch 545

Nest of the Goldfinch 547

Golden Orioles and Nest 553

Ringdove and Nest 559

Water Hen and Nest 562

Nest of the Reed Warbler 565

Fiery Topaz and Hermit 571

Pensile Spider's Nest 582

Tufted Spider. — Spherical Spi-
der-nests 584

MlSCHOCYTTARUS. — ICARIA. Ra-

phigaster 586

Processionary Moth and Calo-

soma 590

Icarias 595

Apoica 600

Raft Spider 612

Mouse-nest in Bottle 620

Termite Cell ,... 622

Fungus Ant 624

Edible Swallow 633

Eagle 638

The Noddy 639

The Nightingale 640

The Coot 644

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

CHAPTER I.

BURROWING MAMMALIA.

Introduction. — Man as a Burrower.— The Mole and its Dwelling. — Difficulty of
observing its Habits. — Complicated structure of its Fortress, and its Uses. —
Character of the Mole. — Adaptation of its Form to its mode of Life. — Common
Objects. — The Shrew Mole, Elephant Shrew, and Musk Rat. — The Arctic
Fox. — Structure of its Limbs. — Form of its Burrow. — Its Character, Fur, and
Flesh. — The common Fox. — Mode of Burrowing and economy of Labor. — The
young Family. — The Weasel, and some of its Habits. — The Badger and its
Burrow. — The Prairie Dog, or Wish-ton-Wish. — Dog-towns. — Unpleasant
Intruders. — The Rabbit, and the Warren. — Self-sacrifice. — Study of animal Life.
— The Chipping Squirrel. — Curious form of its Dwelling. — Its subterranean
Treasures. — The Woodchdck, the Pouched Rat, the Camas Rat, the Mole
Rat, and the Sand Mole. — The White Bear. — Its curious Dwelling. — Snow as
a Shelter. — The Piciiiciago. — Its Form, Armor, and Burrow. — The Armadillos
and their Habits. — The Manis. — The Aard Vark, its Food and Dwelling. —
The Mallangong. — Its strange Habits and its Burrow. — The Porcupine Ant-
Eater. — Its burrowing Powers.

At some period of their existence, many of the higher animals
require a Home, either as a shelter from the weather, or a de-
fense against their enemies. Of all forms of habitation, the sim-
plest is a burrow, whether beneath the surface of the ground, or
into stone, wood, or any other substance.

The lowest grades of human beings are found to adopt this
easy and simple substitute for a home, and the Bosjesman of the
Cape, and the " Digger" Indian of America, alike resort to so
obvious an expedient. If the country be craggy and mountain-
ous, a casual cleft or hollow affords a habitation exactly suited to
a race of mankind who have never undergone any training in
industry, who never exert themselves until forced to do so by
some imperative demand of nature, and who reduce such exer-
tion to the minimum of labor which some present emergency
requires.

20 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

Suck debased tribes of humanity will occasionally adapt to
their current circumstances the hole or crevice in which they
take up their residence, and which can scarcely be called a
home. No domestic associations hang around the habitation of
the earth -dweller. The cave in which he dwells, or rather, in
which he sleeps and shelters himself from inclement weather,
possesses none of the thousand little amenities which constitute
the home of man when even partially civilized. It is hallowed
by no domestic joys, sanctified by no domestic trials, and those
who take casual shelter therein know nothing of those "homely"
feelings which in ancient times made the hearth an inviolable
sanctuary, and which were outwardly symbolized by the Lares
and Penates that surrounded the sacred spot. The inhabitants
may adapt for the present, but they make no arrangements for
the morrow, and, indeed, their memories seem to be as forgetful
of the past and its lessons as their minds are incapable of fore-
thought for the future.

They may possibly remove a stone which incommodes them
while they seek repose, if, indeed, they can not contrive to ar-
range themselves so as to save the trouble of removing it ; and
if the labor should not be severe, i. e. if the whole tribe need not
do more work in a day than an English workman will perform
in an hour, they may possibly enlarge or slightly alter their sub-
terranean home.

Civilized man may, and does frequently, employ the rocky
cavern as his dwelling-place; but with this difference, that he
converts the rude cavern into a permanent home. Some of my
readers have probably seen those curious rock-houses in Derby-
shire, which have been hollowed out of the solid sandstone, and
present to the astonished traveler a view of windows and doors
cut into the face of the rock, and of a chimney just projecting out
of the level ground above. Local traditions report that this pe-
culiar construction was intended for the purpose of affording gra-
tuitous nourishment to the inhabitants, who were supposed to
feed on the hares, rabbits, lambs, and other creatures that stum-
bled over the chimney top and fell into the fire below.

Except, however, that the walls of these houses are carved
from the living rock, instead of being built up by successive series
of stones or bricks, there is nothing in them which differs from
the ordinary dwellings raised by builders, so that in reality they
have little in common with the rock habitations of savage tribes.

UNDERGROUND RESIDENCES. 21

If the country in which the earth-dweller is placed should not
be of a rocky or stony character, affording no caverns already
excavated by the hand of nature, the savage is obliged to do vio-
lence to his temperament, and to set to work. Furnished as he
is with the most miserable of tools — his usual implement, a stick
with a sharpened end charred in the fire to make it harder — he
can make but little progress, humble though the task may be.
The sandy nature of the soil in which he is generally placed of-
fers but little resistance to the rude tool with which he labors,
and as the savage is content with a mere apology for a dwelling-
place, his task is soon accomplished. If he desires to be pecul-
iarly comfortable, he may stick a few dried bushes on the wind-
ward side of the hole, and hang a skin on them ; but it is only
on very wet and windy days that he will take so much trouble.

All subterranean dwellings are not of this simple nature. The
underground palaces of India are wonderful examples of work-
manship ; but then they are nothing more or less than buildings
placed below the level of the ground, and inhabited in the hot
season by the luxurious. Even in such cases, however, the in-
herent defects of an underground dwelling make themselves
painfully apparent. The rooms, though cool, are close and de-
pressing in the extreme. Ventilation can not be properly ac-
complished— the coolness is but the damp chilliness of a cellar,
and brings no invigorating freshness to the languid frame, so
that the edifice is only inhabited occasionally for the sake of
grandeur, and the owner gladly retreats to the upper air, where
he seeks the needed coolness by means of fans and evaporating
water.

Human habitations, however, do not come within the scope of
the present work, which is restricted to those homes that are con-
structed without the aid of hands, and are planned, not by rea-
son, but by instinct. We pass, therefore, from the handiwork of
man to those dwellings which are constructed with feet, or jaws,
or beaks, and which are never marred by incompetence or im-
proved by practice.

Of all the mammalia, the Mole is entitled to take the first
place in our list of burrowers.

This extraordinary animal does not merely dig tunnels in the
ground and sit at the end of them, but forms a complicated sub-
terranean dwelling-place, with chambers, passages, and other ar-

22

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

'i^v ■■■■ 7--v^;— :

Fortress of the Mole.

rangements of wonderful completeness. It has regular roads
leading to its feeding-grounds ; establishes a system of commu-
nication as elaborate as that of a modern railway, or to be more
correct, as that of the subterranean network of metropolitan sew-
ers ; and is an animal of varied accomplishments.

It can run tolerably fast, it can fight like a bulldog, it can cap-
ture prey under or above ground, it can swim fearlessly, and it
can sink wells for the purpose of quenching its thirst. It is, in-
deed, a most interesting animal, and our comparatively small
knowledge of its habits gives promise of much that is yet to be
made known.

Take the Mole out of its proper sphere, and it is as awkward
and clumsy as the sloth when placed on level ground, or the seal
when brought ashore. Replace it in the familiar earth, and it be-
comes a different being — full of life and energy, and actuated by

THE MOLE. 23

a fiery activity which seems quite inconsistent with its dull as-
pect and seemingly inert form. The absence of any external in-
dication of eyes communicates a peculiar dullness to the creature's
look, and the peculiar formation of the fore limbs gives an inde-
scribable awkwardness to its gait.

I have always taken much interest in this animal, and have
watched many of its habits, as far as can be done under the very
untoward circumstances that always must exist when the animal
to be watched is essentially subterranean in its habits. The Mole
can not develop its nature unless it is buried below the surface of
the ground, and when it is there, we can not see it. Many ma-
rine and aquatic animals can be tolerably watched by placing
them in the aquarium ; but when they take to burrowing, they
put an effectual stop to investigation.

To catch a living Mole without injuring it is not an easy task,
and when it is caught, the duty of supplying it with food entails
so severe a labor, and necessitates such very early rising, that no
one can hope for success who does not combine perseverance, pa-
tience, and resolution.

Dull and sombre as the Mole appears to be, it is by far the
fiercest and most active mammal within the British Isles. In-
deed, so remarkable is it for both those qualities, that I doubt
whether the great ferae of tropical climates can equal it either in
ferocity, activity, or voracity. "We need not pity the Mole for the
dull life which, we suppose it to lead below the ground. There
the Mole is happy, and there only can it develop its various ca-
pabilities. We must not judge other beings by ourselves. We
are apt to envy the swallow for its sunny flight through the air
in chase of flies, and to pity the Mole for its darkling passage
through the earth in chase of worms. Yet, there is no doubt but
that both beings receive equal pleasure in carrying out the object
of their existence, and that the Mole feels no less gratification in
the capture of a worm, than the swallow in the capture of a fly.
Such, at all events, is the inference which is to be drawn from
the manner in which the Mole acts when it has seized a worm ;
for no one can witness the active eagerness with which it flings
itself upon its prey, and the evident enjoyment with which it
consumes its hapless victim, without perceiving that the creature
is exultantly happy.

The notion that worms must be miserable is a very natural
one. A very little boy of my acquaintance was lately excusing

24 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

some contemplated acts of cruelty toward worms by saying that
they were already in misery under the stones, and therefore that
a little more pain would not be of much consequence to them.

"We all know that the Mole burrows under the ground, and
that it raises those little hillocks with which we are so familiar ;
but we do not generally know the extent or variety of its tun-
nels, or that the animal works upon a regular system, and does
not burrow here and there at random. How it manages to form
its burrows in such admirably straight lines is not an easy prob-
lem, because it is always in black darkness, and we know of noth-
ing which can act as a guide to the animal. As for ourselves
and other eye-possessing animals, to walk in a straight line with
closed eyelids is almost an impossibility, and every swimmer
knows the difficulty of keeping a straight course under water,
even with the use of his eyes.

The ordinary mole-hills, which are so plentiful in our fields,
present nothing particularly worthy of notice. They are the
shafts through which the quadrupedal miner ejects the materials
which it has scooped out, as it drives its many tunnels through
the soil, and if they be carefully opened after the rain has con-
solidated the heap of loose material, nothing more will be discov-
ered than a simple hole leading into the tunnel. But let us strike
into one of the large tunnels, as any mole-catcher will teach us,
and follow it up until we come to the real abode of the animal.

A section of this extraordinary habitation is given in the illus-
tration. The hill under which this domicile is hidden is of con-
siderable size, but is not very conspicuous, because it is always
placed under the shelter of a tree, a shrub, or a suitable bank,
and would not be discovered but by a practiced eye. The sub-
terraneous abode within the hillock is so remarkable that it in-
voluntarily reminds the observer of the well-known maze, with
which the earliest years of youth have been puzzled throughout
many successive generations.

The central apartment, or keep, if we so term it, is a nearly
spherical chamber, the roof of which is nearly on a level with
the earth around the hill, and therefore situated at a considerable
depth from the apex of the heap. Around this keep are driven
two circular passages or galleries, one just level with the ceiling
and the other at some height above. The upper circle is much
smaller than the lower. Five short descending passages connect

THE MOLE. 25

the galleries with each other, but the only entrance into the keep
is from the upper gallery, out of which three passages lead into
the ceiling of the keep. It will be seen, therefore, that when a
mole enters the house from one of his tunnels, he has first to get
into the lower gallery, to ascend thence to the upper gallery, and
so descend into the keep.

There is, however, another entrance into the keep from below.
A passage dips downward from the centre of the chamber, and
then, taking a curve upward, opens into one of the larger tunnels,
or high roads, as they have been appropriately termed. It is a
noteworthy fact, that the high roads, of which there are seven or
eight, radiating in different directions, never open into the gallery
opposite one of the entrances into the upper gallery. The Mole,
therefore, is obliged to turn to the right or left as soon as it enters
the domicile, before it can find a passage to the upper gallery.

By continual pressure of the Mole's fur, the walls of the pas-
sages and the roof of the central chamber become quite smooth,
hard and polished, so that the earth will not fall in even after the
severest storm.

The use of so complicated a series of cells and passages is ex-
tremely doubtful, and our total ignorance on the subject affords
another reason why the habits of this wonderful animal should
be better studied. The only object that can at present be sur-
mised is, that the rightful owner of such a stronghold may rest
safely in his middle chamber, tasting the reward of repose which
sweetens labor, and that in case of alarm, he might escape through
either of the many passages which surround his home. I do not
know, however, whether the Mole always retires to his fortress in
order to rest, but rather imagine that he contents himself with ly-
ing in the high road. Such, at all events, seems to be the opinion
of professional mole-catchers, who tell me that the Mole works
and rests at regular intervals of three hours, making no distinc-
tion whatever between day and night.

"Wonderful as is this subterranean habitation, it is not the only
one which is constructed by the animal. It may be well adapted
to a solitary individual, but it is not at all suited for a family, for
whom a more extended nursery must be provided. The nursery
is much simpler than the habitation, consisting merely of a large
chamber, in which is laid a considerable mass of dried grass, the
young blades of corn being sometimes employed for that pur-
pose. The Mole chooses for this purpose the spot where two or

26 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

more passages intersect each other, so that in case of alarm, the
mother and young may escape in the direction which seems far-
thest removed from danger. This nursery is almost invariably
placed at some distance from the fortress.

About the middle of June, or commencement of July, the
Moles begin to fall in love, and are as furious in their attach-
ments as in all other' phases of their nature. At that time, two
male moles can not meet without a mortal jealousy, and they
straightway begin to fight, scratching, tearing, and biting with
such insane fury, that they seem to be unconscious of every thing
but the heat of battle. Not content with fighting in their bur-
rows, they often emerge into the open air, and may then be
caught without the least difficulty. A few days before writing
this account, I heard that a pair of Moles were thus taken in the
fields near Erith, and one of my friends made a similar capture
on Shooter's Hill.

Indeed, the whole life of the Mole is one of fury, and he eats
like a starving tiger, tearing and rending his prey with claws and
teeth, and crunching audibly the body of the worm between the
sharp points. Some writers say that the Mole eats snails and
other molluscs, but I am disposed to doubt that assertion. I
have kept several Moles, and never saw them eat any thing but
worms. They even rejected the julus millipede, kicking it aside
with utter contempt.

It is also asserted that the Mole skins the worm before he eats
it, "stripping the skin from end to end, and squeezing out the
contents of the body." To prove a negative is proverbially a dif-
ficult task, and therefore I will not venture to say that the Mole
does not trouble himself about stripping off the skin of the worm.
I do not see how it could do so, for even with the assistance of
knives, scissors and forceps, such a task presents many difficul-
ties, and how the Mole is to succeed in such an undertaking with
no tools but his teeth and claws, I can not comprehend. No
Mole that I have ever seen, gave the slightest indication of skin-
ning or emptying the wrorm, but proceeded without the least cer-
emony to devour its prey, and then looked out for another victim.

It is hardly possible to conceive, and quite impossible to de-
scribe the fury with which the Mole eats. It hunches its back
in a most curious manner, retracts the head between the shoul-
ders, and uses its fore paws to assist it in pushing the worm into
its jaws. In this respect there is a singular resemblance between

THE MOLE. 27

the Mole and the carnivorous chelodines of America. I have
kept several of them, and have always noticed that ihey ate ex-
actly after the fashion employed by the Mole, seizing their food
in their jaws, and tearing it to pieces by the aid of the armed
lore paws — one foot being applied at each side of the mouth, so
as to push the food forward, while the head draws it back.

How the Mole assumes this peculiar attitude I can not con-
ceive. I have often seen it engaged in eating, and have sketched
the creature while so employed ; but, when the Mole has been
dead, I have been unable to place it in the proper attitude,
though anxious to do so in order that the artist might be able
to make his drawing properly.

From seeing the animal eat, I can readily conceive the fury
with which it must be animated when it fights, and can perfect-
ly appreciate the truth of the assertion, that it has been observed
to fling itself upon a small bird, to tear its body open, and to de-
vour it while still palpitating with life.

Nothing short of this fiery energy could sustain an animal in
the lifelong task of forcing itself through the solid earth; and
it may well be imagined that when two male Moles of equal
strength happen to meet, the combat must be of the most fu-
rious kind.

To those who are accustomed only to look at animals from
their own stand-point, these battles may appear too insignificant
to attract attention ; but to the e}7e of a naturalist, who instinct-
ively identifies himself with the nature of the animals which he
is observing, these combats lose all their insignificance, and even
partake in some degree of the sublime. Size is only of relative
importance ; and, in point of fact, a battle between two Moles is as
tremendous as one between two lions, if not more so, because the
Mole is more courageous than the lion, and, relatively speaking,
is far more powerful and armed with weapons more destructive.

Magnify the Mole to the size of the lion, and you will have a
beast more terrible than the world has yet seen. Though near-
ly blind, and therefore incapable of following prey by sight, it
would be active beyond conception, springing this way and that
way as it goes along, so as to cover a large amount of space, leap-
ing with lightning quickness upon any animal which it met,
rending it to pieces in a moment, thrusting its blood-thirsty snout
into the body of its victim, eating the still warm and bleeding
flesh, and instantly searching for fresh prey.

28 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

Such a creature would, without the least hesitation, devour a
serpent twenty feet in length, and so terrible would be its vorac-
ity, that it would eat twenty or thirty of such snakes in the
course of a day. With one grasp of its teeth and one stroke of
its claws it could tear an ox asunder ; and if it should happen to
enter a fold of sheep or an inclosure of cattle, it would kill them
all for the mere lust of slaughter. Let, then, two of such animals
meet in combat, and how terrific would be the battle. Fear is
a feeling of which a Mole seems to be unconscious ; and when
fighting with one of his own species, he gives his whole energies
to the destruction of his opponent, without seeming to heed the
injuries which are inflicted upon himself.

From the foregoing sketch the reader will be able to estimate
the extraordinary energies of this animal, as well as the wonder-
ful instincts with which it is endowed.

What a surprising effort of intuitive skill is shown in the fort-
ress, with its central chamber and the circular galleries that sur-
round and defend it. How enormous is the space of ground
which a single Mole covers with its network of roads and gal-
leries, driven in every direction from the fortress, and sunk at
various depths, according to the state of the ground and the po-
sition of the worms. Sometimes it burrows along just at the
surface of the ground, its back visible as it passes along, and so
making a shallow trench rather than a tunnel. Sometimes, as in
very dry weather, it is obliged to dive deeply into the earth be-
fore it can find the worms, which detest drought, and can not ex-
ist but in damp situations.

How marvelous is the amount of muscular power that is con-
centrated into so small a space. Every one who has worked at
digging a pit is well aware of the labor involved in his undertak-
ing, even with the aid of crowbar, pickaxe, and spade. If the
reader should happen to excavate a cubic yard of earth, he will
know by experience the amount of muscular exertion that is re-
quired for the task, and will be the better able to appreciate the
tremendous powers of the Mole, which is able to drive its tun-
nels so rapidly through the solid earth, and to throw up at short
intervals those well-known mole-hills, which contain as much
earth as would make a heap twelve feet in height and twenty
feet in diameter, were a man to be the workman instead of the
Mole.

On looking over the list of burrowing mammalia, the observer

THE MOLE. 29

can not but be struck with the wonderful manner in which they
emerge from the earth with unsoiled fur. This capability is the
more remarkable in the animal now under consideration, be-
cause it is continually engaged in making new tunnels, and is
not content merely to pass up and down a passage already ex-
cavated. The sides of the passages, which are popularly known
as the high roads, are by degrees worn quite smooth by the at-
trition of the Mole's body, so that in them there is little danger
of injury accruing to the fur. But that an animal should be able
to pass unsoiled through earth of all textures is a really remark-
able phenomenon, which is partly to be explained by the charac-
ter of the hair, and partly by that of the skin.

The hair of the Mole is notable for its velvety aspect, and its
want of " set." The tips of the hairs do not point in any partic-
ular direction, but may be pressed equally forward or backward
or to either side. The microscope reveals the cause of this pe-
culiarity. The hair is extremely fine at its exit from the skin,
and gradually increases in thickness. When it has reached its
full width, it again diminishes. This alternation of tenuity and
thickness occurs several times in each hair, and gives the pecul-
iar velvet-like texture with which we are all so familiar. There
is scarcely any coloring matter in the slender portions of the
hair, and the characteristic changeability of the blackish-brown
hues is owing to this structure.

Perhaps the reader may not have noticed that when the fur of
the Mole has been thoroughly cleansed, it has a strong iridescence
in certain lights, assuming various beautiful tints, among which a
ruddy copper is the most prevalent.

Another reason for the cleanliness of the fur is the strong,
though membranous muscle beneath the skin. "While the Mole
is engaged in tunneling, particularly in loose earth, the soil falls
upon the fur, and for a time clings to it. But, at tolerably regu-
lar intervals, the creature gives the skin a sharp and powerful
shake, which throws off at once the whole of the mould that has
collected upon the fur. Some amount of dust still retains its
hold, for, however clean the fur of a Mole may seem to be, if the
creature be placed for an hour in water, a considerable quantity
of earth will be dissolved away, and fall to the bottom of the ves-
sel. The improvement in the fur after being well washed with
soft tepid water and soap, is almost incredible.

Many persons have been struck with such admiration of the

30 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

fur of the Mole, that they have been desirous of having a num-
ber of the skins collected and made into a waistcoat. This cer-
tainly can be done, but is not a commendable plan, for the gar-
ments thus made are very hot, so that they can only be worn in
winter; they are very expensive, costing from two to three
pounds, and they possess but little lasting powers. There is
also a wonderfully strong smell about the Mole, so strong, in-
deed, that dogs will sometimes point at Moles instead of game,
to the great disgust of their masters. This odor adheres ob-
stinately to the skin, and even in furs, which have been dried
for more than ten years, I have noticed this unpleasant savor.

The Mole is one of those animals which, like the sloth, are
formed expressly for the condition of life in which they are
placed. There are many burrowing animals, but the Mole is
emphatically the burrower, the very type of a creature which is
intended to pass the whole of an active existence under ground.
I say an active existence, because there are many other creatures
which lead a subterranean life, but which are comparatively
quiet and listless during their sojourn underground. But the
Mole absolutely riots in the exuberance of animal spirits and
muscular activity, passing through the earth almost like a fish
through the water, and giving to its strange, and apparently
sombre life, a poetry and an interest which we fail to find in
the lives of many creatures more richly endowed with external
beauty.

Let me recommend the reader to procure, or at all events to ex-
amine, the skeleton of a Mole, and to note the wonderful structure
by which such effects are produced. The enormous shoulder-
blades, projecting far above the spine, the short, bowed, and pow-
erful bones of the fore limbs, the wide, flattened palms, and the
strong, sharp, and curved claws, look almost like a miniature mod-
el of some machine invented for the purpose of tearing the stub-
born earth.

See how all the power is thrown into the fore quarters, while
the hind quarters are feeble, and, in comparison, common-place.
See how enormously strong must be the muscles of the neck,
where the ligament (popularly called the paxwax) is hardened
into bone. The nose, too, is furnished with an accessory bone,
which projects into the snout, and gives it that combined strength
and mobility which distinguishes the creature. Immediately aft-
er death the snout of the Mole is flexible and elastic, springing

THE MOLE. 31

back when bent, as if cut from solid India-rubber. But in a very
few hours it becomes stiff, unsightly, and shriveled, and loses all
its plump rotundity. Once lost, this is never restored. You may
immerse the Mole in water as long as you like, but as the shrivel-
ing is more from within than without, the moisture fails to pene-
trate the tissues, and to enable them to regain their pristine con-
tour. As to stuffed specimens, I never yet saw one in a museum
that gave much idea of the animal, and the snout in particular, is
always crumpled, black, and withered.

In order to give greater spread and power to the fore paws,
there is an accessory bone shaped something like a sickle, project-
ing from the carpus, and it will be found that in this extraordina-
ry animal still exist certain remarkable peculiarities of structure,
which are seen in no other living form, but have been discovered
in the fossil skeletons of animals long extinct.

I have given much space to the Mole on account of its many
claims to our notice. Had the creature been a rare and costly in-
habitant of the tropics, how deep would have been the interest
which it excited. How the scientific world would have crowded
to see the marvelous structure of a skeleton wherein are several
accessory bones, and which exhibit peculiarities hitherto found
only in fossil remains. How great would have been the admira-
tion evoked by its soft, velvet-like fur, its tiny eyes deeply hidden
in the fur, so as to be sheltered from the earth through which the
animal is continually making its way, the strange mixture of
strength and softness in the palms of its fore feet, and the elastic
springiness of its nose.

But, because it is a native of our own country, and to be found
in every field, there are but few who care to examine a creature
so common, or who experience any feelings save those of con-
tempt or disgust, when they see a Mole making its way over the
ground in search of a soft spot in which to burrow, or pass by the
place where the mole-catcher has strung up his victims on the
trees as Louis XL was accustomed to suspend the bodies of those
who had committed the crime of trespassing on the royal domains.
For my own part, I am but too glad that such wonderful beings
are common, and am thankful for so many opportunities of study-
ing the works of Him who has made the lowly Mole as carefully
as the lordly man.

There are many other burrowing animals allied to the mole ;

32 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

and although it will be impossible to give illustrations of their
burrows, they ought not to be passed by without a casual notice.

The Shrews, for example, are among the burrowers, and al-
though their eyes are full and round, their fore quarters of ordi-
nary proportions, and their fore feet of the usual shape, there is
something about the head, with its long mobile snout, which
strongly reminds the observer of the same member in the mole.
These pretty little creatures reside within their burrows during
the day, and are therefore seldom seen in a living state, except by
those who are in the habit of traversing the country by night in
search of specimens. Dead Shrews are common enough, having
probably been killed by predatory animals, but left uneaten on
the ground, in consequence of the powerful odor which they
evolve.

At the end of the burrow the Shrew makes its nest, which is
composed of dry grasses and other herbage, and is of a partly
globular form.

The Shrew Mole of North America (Scalops aquaticus) is one
of the best burrowers among this family, scarcely yielding to the
mole itself in the extent of the tunnels which it excavates. Like
the mole, it drives its burrows below the surface of the ground,
throws up hillocks at intervals, and feeds chiefly on earthworms.
The eyes of this creature are very minute, and deeply hidden in
the soft fur. Unlike the mole, however, it is in the constant hab-
it of coming to the surface of the ground, and passing into the full
blaze of the noontide sun. At that time of day the animal may
be caught by driving a spade under it, so as to cut off its retreat,
and by flinging it to some distance from its tunnel.

Mr. Peale mentions that a Shrew Mole in his possession was
able to bend the snout to such an extent as to force food into its
mouth. The European mole, flexible as is its mobile snout, pos-
sesses no such power, but is obliged to perform that task with its
fore paws.

Then there is the Elephant Shrew of Southern Africa (Ma-
croscelides typicus), a thick-furred, long-snouted, short-eared bur-
rower, which has a rather remarkable method of sinking its tun-
nels, first boring a nearly perpendicular shaft, and then driving its
burrow at an angle. It is not so devoted to a subterranean exist-
ence as either of the preceding animals, and loves to come out of
its burrow and bask in the genial sunbeams. It is, however, as
wary as the rest of its kindred, and at the least alarm darts off to

THE MUSK EAT — THE FOX. 33

its subterranean fastnesses. While basking in the warm rays, it
generally sits erect, facing the sun, so as to receive every ray.

Our last example of the Shrews is the remarkable animal which
is popularly called the Musk Eat {Afyogalea moschala), though it
is an insectivorous animal, and far removed from the rodents.
The river Wolga is the favorite resort of this curious quadruped,
which seems to hate dry land as much as the beaver, and to spend
the greater part of its time in the water.' The Musk Eat is an
admirable burrower, making its tunnels of considerable length,"'
some of them extending to a distance of twenty feet. There is
only one entrance, which is always below the water; and the bur-
row rises gradually upward, so that at the extremity the animal
is lodged on dry ground. It is instinctively careful to avoid too
close a proximity to the surface of the earth, lest the roof of its
home might fall, and disclose the interior to the unwelcome light.

The odor which has already been mentioned as belonging to
all the members of this family, is in the Musk Eat so powerful as
to raise the animal into an article of commerce, the musky scent
being nearly as powerful as that produced by the musk deer, and
the perfume obtained at a much cheaper rate. The well-known
Musk Eat of India belongs also to this odoriferous family.

The Fox is a well-known burrower, its " earth" being familiar
to many by sight, and to all by name.

Few persons, who do not know the history of the Fox, would
believe it to be capable of forming excavations of such extent.
The fore feet of the mole are clearly formed for digging, their
sharp claws penetrating the earth, their broad palms acting as
shovels, and their powerful muscles giving the needful force.
These limbs are essentially used for digging, and are but little
employed as means of locomotion. But the Fox is an admirable
runner, as any hunter can avouch, and its fore limbs are formed
for speed and endurance, their length enduing them with the one
quality, and their muscular lightness with the other. Yet, just as
the digging limbs of the mole are used for locomotion, and enable
the animal to proceed at no contemptible speed, so the running
limbs of the Fox are used for digging, and enable the creature to
excavate burrows of no contemptible dimensions.

The Arctic Fox (Vufyes lagopus), an animal which dwells in
the polar regions, is notable for the extent and structure of the
burrow. In order to shield itself from the inclemency of the

C

34

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

• Earth" of the Fox.

climate, it digs to a considerable depth ; and it is rather remark-
able that a solitary burrow is seldom found, twenty or thirty
Foxes generally sinking their tunnels in close proximity to each
other.

Perhaps this semi - sociality may be accounted for in a very
simple manner, namely, the suitability of some particular piece
of ground, to which the Foxes flock by instinct, and in which
they drive as many burrows as the ground will accommodate.
This conjecture is the more likely to be true, because sandy spots
are' always chosen for this purpose, where twenty or thirty bur-
rows are often sunk in close proximity to each other. Such
spots would be peculiarly suitable to the Fox, because the sandy
soil is not so likely to be hardened by the frost as that of a more
compact and watery nature, and would be easily thrown out by
the small though powerful feet of the animal.

THE FOX. 35

If one of these little colonies could be laid open, a very cu-
rious sight would present itself. The earth would be seen to
be pierced with multitudinous tunnels, each complete and inde-
pendent in itself, and never interfering with burrows belonging
to other owners. Each burrow, too, is of a very complex char-
acter, and by no means consists of a single tunnel, with a rude
nest at the extremity. There are three or four distinct passages,
each of which opens into the common chamber, which is of con-
siderable dimensions, and serves as a starting-place whence the
inhabitant can seek refuge in either of its passages, according to
the direction in which it apprehends danger.

This chamber is not, however, the nursery for the young, a
second cavity being used for that purpose. The nursery is not
of great dimensions, and communicates by a passage with the
chamber already mentioned. The reader will see, therefore, that
in some respects the habitation of the Arctic Fox corresponds
with that of the mole, both having a kind of fortress from which
a number of passages lead in different directions, and the nursery
being in both instances separate from the general habitation.

Five or six young ones are mostly bred in these subterranean
nurseries; and in the outer chamber, and in several of the pas-
sages that lead to it, are placed good stores of food. In one such
nest were found many bodies of two species of lemming, and sev-
eral stoats ; and the abundance of bones belonging to hares, fish-
es, and ducks, showed that the wants of the young Foxes had
been amply supplied.

This Fox is a very intelligent animal, though the accounts of
the earlier Arctic voyagers would lead the reader to imagine that
it was peculiarly stupid. It could be caught without the least
difficulty ; any rough contrivance answered for a trap, and any
number of Foxes might be taken in it. The hunter might make
a trap and bait it while the animal looked on, and as soon as he
retired, the Fox would walk into the snare. Fifteen have thus
been taken in four hours in a single trap.

Other voyagers tell very different tales of the same animal.
Their note-books abound in anecdotes of its exceeding craft, and
the difficulty of catching it; and they tell us how the Arctic
Foxes learned to remove the baits without falling into the traps,
or being shot by the spring-guns. The reason is evident. Those
who commemorate its stupidity are the earlier voyagers — those
who describe its craft are the later travelers. Before the advent

36 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

of the former, the Foxes knew nothing of the European, and his
traps and guns, and had no suspicion that a bait was meant for
any other purpose than to be eaten. Before the European came
into these northern regions, the Fox was very little molested;
but when men found that its skin was a little fortune, and that
its flesh was generally eatable, the Fox was subjected to a mer-
ciless persecution. For, even in its ordinary state, the skin of
the Arctic Fox is in great favor as a fur ; but when it is bleach-
ed by the dread cold of the regions in which the animal resides,
and is of a pure snowy whiteness down to the very roots of the
hair, it is so exceedingly costly, that a mantle made of that fur is
only to be purchased by millionaires, or placed on imperial shoul-
ders. I am afraid to say how many thousand pounds have been
paid for a mantle of white fox -skins. In consequence of the
value of the fur, scarcely a Fox can show his sharp nose without
being tempted by baits or followed by riflemen ; and so many
have fallen victims, that the survivors have learned wisdom.

All persecuted animals learn wisdom. Try to catch an old
rat, and see how long you will have to wait before you see him
in the trap. Try to snare an old raven, or even to hook an old
trout, and you will find that your best energies will be taxed,
and all your ingenuity tested, before you will succeed. So it has
been with the Foxes. They like the bait as well as ever, but
they have acquired a rooted distrust of wires, or sticks, or strings,
or indeed of any thing to which they are not accustomed in their
everyday life, and therefore keep carefully aloof from every thing
that conveys suspicion to their eyes or nostrils.

The flesh of the young Fox is very good, eating, but that of
the old animal is almost valueless except to starving men, being
hard and stringy, and having a very unpleasant flavor. Even
the water in which it has been boiled is acrid, and apt to blister
the mouth and gums. But, although the flesh is valueless, the
skin is almost beyond price, and the fur of a fine old Fox in per-
fect condition is worth many times its weight in gold.

The habitation of the common Fox of this country is by no
means so complicated as that of the Arctic species.

Whenever it can, the Fox avoids the labor of burrowing, and
avails itself of the deserted home of a badger, or even a rabbit.
In the former case there is very little to be done to the burrow,
and in the latter the cunning animal finds its labor greatly di-

THE FOX. 37

minished ; for though the Fox is a much larger animal than the
rabbit, and needs a rather larger tunnel, it finds that the task of
enlarging a ready-made burrow is very much less than if it had
to drive a passage through solid ground. Every one who has
worked with carpenters' tools knows that a large gimlet passes
easily through wood; if it follows the track of a smaller one, and
on the same principle, the Fox passes easily through the earth on
the track of the rabbit. The burrow of the latter animal is more-
over much larger than is absolutely required for its passage,
while the former is quite satisfied if he can pass through the
tunnel with tolerable rapidity.

Sometimes, however, the animal is not fortunate enough to
find any ready-made habitation, and in such cases sets determ-
inately to work, and scoops out a burrow on its own account.
Herein it lies asleep all day, as is the custom with most preda-
ceous animals, and only sallies forth at night. Herein the moth-
er produces and nurtures her young, and sometimes on a sum-
mer's evening, the whole family, the father, mother, and cubs,
come out to enjoy the fresh air. They never wander far from
the mouth of the burrow, and as the young are gamesome little
creatures, as plaj^ful as puppies, and much prettier, and the moth-
er helps her young ones in their sports as a good mother ought
to do, the group presents a very pretty sight. When young the
cubs are certainly not prepossessing, and scarcely any one would
take the sprawling gray -coated, broad - muzzled creatures, with
their little short pointed tails and stumpy ears, for the young of
the Fox, with its ruddy fur, its active limbs, its narrow muzzle,
its fine bushy tail, and its erect, intelligent-looking ears.

Though there -is but one burrow for the nursery, the Fox gen-
erally has access to " earths," as they are called, at considerable
distances apart, and, as all huntsmen know, when he finds that
one of his earths is stopped, will straightway start off for another
which may probably be at a distance of several miles, not to
mention his accurate knowledge of drains and similar places of
refuge. Therefore to keep an old experienced Fox above ground
is a task which needs great skill and considerable endurance, for
he is by no means above availing himself of clefts in rocks,
should the country be of a mountainous nature, or using holes
in decayed trees; and, indeed, if within a radius of some ten or
twelve miles there is a cavity which is capable of concealing a
Fox, the cunnms: animal is sure to know it.

38 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

The Weasels have been said to be great burrowers, but I am
inclined to think that very few of them are in the habit of tun-
neling below the ground. The Otter is generally thought to be
a burrower because it has certain caves in the river banks, to
which it flies for refuge when pursued, and in which it produces
and rears its young. But I believe that in every instance the
animal takes advantage of some ready-made cavity, mostly con-
tenting itself with accepting the retreat, and at the best, merely
scraping and adapting the spot to suit its own purposes.

The Weasel is certainly no excavator. It takes up its habita.
tion in rocky crevices, under the gnarled roots of old trees, in the
interstices between stones, and similar localities, stone-heaps being
always favorite spots. Ladies who build their picturesque rock-
eries for the culture of ferns, would be very much surprised if
they knew how often the Weasel takes possession of the stones,
and how the interior of the mimic rock is tenanted by these
snake-necked, red-bodied, bright-eyed little creatures. Should
they perchance see a Weasel poking its intelligent little head out
of a crevice, they should not be alarmed, but do their best to en-
courage an animal so useful, a little ally that will do more toward
clearing the garden of mice and other nocturnal depredators than
all the ratcatchers in the neighborhood.

One of the Weasel tribe is, however, a most powerful and in-
dustrious excavator. This is the Badger (Meles taxus), an animal
which was formerly considered as our only surviving British rep-
resentative of the bear tribe, but is now found to belong to the
weasels.

The Badger makes a most gloomy, dark, and tortuous burrow,
generally excavated in some retired and shadowy spot, such as
dense thickets, or the recesses of thickly-wooded forests. As is
the case with several burrowing animals, there are several cham-
bers in its domicile, one of which is appropriated as a nursery,
and is warmly padded with dry mosses and grass.

The Badger is an animal that can not live in close proximity
to human beings, and has, in consequence, been gradually ban-
ished from the greater part of England. Forest after forest falls
before the woodman's axe, mile upon mile of barren bog-land is
drained and converted into fertile, food-producing soil; and so,
to the very great satisfaction of the political economist, and the
very great discomfiture of the naturalist, all our large carnivora,
whether furred or feathered, are gradually ousted from the soil

THE BADGER — THE PRAIRIE DOG. 39

wherein they formerly exercised unquestioned sway. The Badger
has long ago been driven out of the land ; the otter is but seldom
seen in the rivers where it was once so plentiful ; the polecat and
martens have retired into the deepest recesses of the few forests
which are still left to us, but over which the demon of bricks and
mortar already casts a longing glance ; and the stoat and weasel
only hold their own on account of their diminutive size, and the
comparative ease with which they obtain a supply of food. They
are among the animals which are gradually eliminated out of ex-
istence by the encroachments of man, and it may be that in a few
years a stoat or weasel may be as rare in England as a Badger is
at the present day.

The fossorial limbs of the Badger are useful in various ways ;
for not only do they enable their owner to dig a domicile which
none dare invade without the help of man, but they aid him in
obtaining a kind of food to which he is particularly partial. The
Badger is tolerably omnivorous, but has a special liking for in-
sects in their immature state, and will dig up the nests of wasps
and other subterranean hymenoptera, for the sake of devouring
the larva3. Some writers say that the Badger scrapes out the
wasp-combs on account of the honey contained in them, but as no
British wasp makes a cell that can hold honey, or is capable of
gathering and storing that sweet substance, the Badger might
scrape for a very long time before it earned a meal.

In like manner the Mink, the Vison, and other weasels of
Northern America are in the habit of retiring to holes and crev-
ices, but do not appear to form burrows for themselves. The
Honey Batel (Mellivora RaieT) does, it is true, scrape deep holes
in the ground with very great rapidity, but then the creature can
not be ranked among the true weasels, and by many authors is
thought to approach closely to the bears.

The exact classification of animal habitations involves a task
not easily accomplished, inasmuch as so many of them partake
of characteristics which might entitle them to be placed under va-
rious categories. The rabbit, for example, might be considered
either as a social or a burrowing animal, and the same may be
said of the common wasp, the humble bee, and many other insects.

The Prairie Dog {Spermophilus Ludovicianus) may, like the
rabbit, be considered equally as a burrower or a social animal,
and we will therefore place it in the former of these categories.

40 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

This animal is sometimes called the Wish-ton-wish, but it is
usually known by the name of Prairie Dog, though it is a rodent
and not a carnivorous animal. The reason of its popular name
lies in the short yelping sound which it is fond of uttering, and
which bears some resemblance to the bark of a young puppy.
Even in captivity it utters this short, impatient yelp, which may
generally be extorted from the little animal by placing the hand
near the cage. Though so gentle and affectionate to its keeper,
it dislikes strangers ; and if their fingers approach the bars of its
house too closely, it barks at the intruders like an angry squirrel,
and scratches smartly at their hands with its sharp and powerful
claws.

It is a prettjr, and rather curious animal, measuring about six-
teen inches in total length. Its general shape is round and flat-
tish, and the head. is peculiarly fiat, giving to the animal a very
remarkable aspect. The fur is grayish-red, with a grizzled effect,
produced by the alternate chestnut and gray color of each hair.
The disposition of the Prairie Dog is pleasant and sociable, and
the little creature is very susceptible of domestication. There
are at the present time (July, 1863) two fine specimens of this an-
imal in the Zoological Gardens, and both of them are notable for
their tameness. The male (called Charley by the keeper), seems
remarkably fond of his master, and loves to be taken up and nes-
tle in his breast. The female is also a very tame animal, and was
a great favorite of its late owner, following him about like a dog,
and residing chiefly in his coat pocket.

In spite of the formidable foes by which it is attacked, and
which take up their residence in the very centre of its habita-
tions, the Prairie Dog is an exceedingly prolific animal, multiply-
ing rapidly, and extending its excavations to vast distances. In-
deed, when once the Prairie Dogs settle themselves in a conven-
ient spot, their increase seems to have no bounds, and the little
heaps of earth which stand near the mouth of their burrows ex-
tend as far as the eye can reach.

The burrows are of considerable dimensions, and evidently run
to no small depth, as one of them has been known to absorb five
barrels of water without being filled. It is not impossible, how-
ever, that there might have been a communication with some
other burrow, or that the soil might have been loose and porous,
and suffered the water to soak through its substance. They are
dug in a sloping direction, forming an angle of about forty-five

A PRAIRIE DOG "TOWN."

THE PRAIRIE DOG. 43

degrees with the horizon, and after descending for five or six feet,
they take a sudden turn, and rise gradually upward. Thousands
upon thousands of these burrows are dug in close proximity to
each other, and honeycomb the ground to such an extent that it
is rendered quite unsafe for horses.

The scene presented by one of these "dog towns" or "villages,"
as the assemblages of burrows are called, is most curious, and
well repays the trouble of approaching without alarming the cau-
tious little animals. Fortunately for the traveler, the Prairie Dog-
is as inquisitive as it is wary, and the indulgence of its curiosity
often costs the little creature its life. Perched on the hillocks
which have already been mentioned, the Prairie Dog is able to
survey a wide extent of horizon, and as soon as it sees an in-
truder, it gives a sharp yelp of alarm, and dives into its burrow,
its little feet knocking together with a ludicrous flourish as it dis-
appears. In all directions a similar scene is enacted. Warned
by the well-known cry, all the Prairie Dogs within reach repeat
the call, and leap into their burrows. Their curiosity, however,
is irrepressible, and scarcely have their feet vanished from sight,
than their heads are seen cautiously protruded from the burrow,
and their inquisitive brown eyes sparkle as they examine the
cause of the disturbance.

A good marksman will take advantage of this peculiarity, and,
by aiming at the eye, will make sure of killing the animal on the
spot. It is marvelously tenacious of life, and unless its head be
almost knocked to pieces, is sure to escape into its home. A
pea-rifle is almost useless in shooting Prairie Dogs, a large bullet
being needed to produce instantaneous death.

The Prairie Dog has not the privilege of possessing a home ex-
clusively devoted to its own use, for the Burrowing Owl, some-
times called the Coquimbo Owl (Athene cunicidaria), and the ter-
rible rattlesnake, take forcible possession of the burrows, and
devour the inmates, thus procuring board and lodging at very
easy rates. The rattlesnake at all events does %o, the bodies of
young Prairie Dogs having been found in its stomach.

On the discovery of owls and rattlesnakes within the burrows
of the Prairie Dog, it was generally thought that these incongru-
ous beings associated together in perfect harmony, forming in
fact a " Happy Family" below the surface of the ground. The
ruthless scalpel of the naturalist, however, effectually dissipated
all such romantic notions, and proved that the snake was by no

44

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

means a welcome guest, but an intruder on the premises, self-bil-
leted on the inmates, like soldiers on obnoxious householders,
procuring lodging without permission, and eating the inhabitants
by way of board.

The reason for the presence of the owls is not so evident,
though it is not impossible that they may also snap up an occa-
sional Prairie Dog in its earliest infancy, while it is very young,
small, and tender. These winged and scaled intruders are not
found in all the burrows, though many of the habitations are in-
fested by them.

The general aspect of the Prairie Dog is not unlike that of its
near relative, the Alpine Marmot, so familiar in this country
through the mediumship of Savoyard boys, who carry the animal
about in a box, and exhibit it for halfpence.

%$^($!fa0£ ;' H $fe#

The Rabbit Warren.

One of the most familiar of the British burrowing rodents
is the common Kabbit (Lepus cuniculas), an animal notable for
"sporting," as gardeners would say, into a vast number of varie-
ties, some of which are so unlike the original stock that they
seem to be species and not varieties, and indeed might have taken

THE RABBIT. 45

rank as species, did they not invariably display a tendency to re-
cede to the ancestral short brown fur and upright ears of the wild
Rabbit.

This animal lives, as we all know, in burrows, and is mostly of
a social nature, a considerable number of burrows being gathered
together and known by the name of a Warren. Whenever the
Rabbits find an undisturbed spot, which combines the advantages
of a sandy situation with the vicinity of food, they establish them-
selves forthwith, and sink their multitudinous tunnels into the
ground. The favorite locality for the Rabbit is a loose, sandy, or
gravelly soil, covered with patches of furze bushes ; for the soil
is easily excavated, and is very dry, and the young shoots of the
furze yield a food equally grateful and nutritious. Moreover, the
tangled roots of the furze afford an excellent protection to the
burrows, and the overhanging branches, with their prickly ver-
dure, serve admirably to shelter the entrances.

When once they have established themselves, the Rabbits in-
crease with almost incredible rapidity, nearly rivaling the rats
and mice in fecundity, and converting the land into a very honey-
comb of burrows. Indeed, were not the flesh of the Rabbit mar-
ketable, and its fur valuable — were not the stoat, the weasel, the
hawk, and other furred and feathered depredators extremely fond
of young Rabbits, the animals would spread so fast as to become
a positive nuisance. In some places they have increased to such
an extent, that the safety of buildings has been greatly endanger-
ed by the deep and ramifying tunnels which they have sunk be-
side the foundations ; and I know of a case where they have mul-
tiplied so inordinately, that the proprietor of the ground, albeit a
most stanch conservator of animal life, has been obliged in self-
defense to have them exterminated.

It is not a very easy matter to drive the creatures from any
place of which they have already taken possession, and even after
employing all the paraphernalia of ferrets, nets, and guns, two or
three isolated individuals are apt to escape, and if they should
chance to be of opposite sexes, the Rabbit host is marvelously
soon reproduced. The creature becomes a parent at a very early
age, and by the time that a Rabbit is a year old it may have at-
tained the dignity of a grandparent. >

As is the case with most animals, the Rabbit seeks a quiet and
retired spot for her little nursery. She does not produce her
voung in any of the burrows to which the general Rabbit colony

46 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

lias access, but prepares an isolated tunnel, at the end of which
she forms her nest. The bed on which the young recline is beau-
tifully soft and fine, being composed chiefly of the downy fur
which grows on the mother's breast, and which she plucks off
with her teeth in tufts of considerable size. Any one who keeps
tame Eabbits may see the female preparing her cradle with this
soft fur, and note how perseveringly she denudes her breast of its
covering.

Much stress has been laid on the self-sacrifice exhibited by the
animal, but I can not believe that there is any sacrifice in the
case. We know that if we were to pull out handfuls of our hair,
we should suffer exceeding pain, and should, moreover, feel very
uncomfortable for want of the locks which we had torn away.
But the case of the Eabbit has no real analogy with such a pro-
ceeding, for the fur of the animal is at that time so loosely attach-
ed to the skin that it falls off as easily as the hairs of a cat in sum-
mer, and its evulsion produces no such disastrous effects as would
follow the forcible plucking out of human hair. No raw and
bleeding surface is seen when the fur of the Eabbit is removed,
and scarcely a sign of inflammation is visible upon the skin. The
act is a purely instinctive one, involving no more self-sacrifice
than is occasioned by any other instinctive act ; and perhaps we
should not be very far wrong if we were to say that the animal
would experience more self-sacrifice in omitting than in commit-
ting the act in question.

The incubation of the eider duck presents similar features, the
parent birds stripping themselves of their down in order to form
a warm bed for their young. Yet, I do not think that there is
any self-sacrifice in the case, and fully believe that the creatup^
experiences a feeling of gratification rather than of inconvenience
when it plucks away the down and arranges it for the reception
of the eg-crs. And, even if we grant that the Eabbit or eider duck

DO ' i~J

did find that they were less comfortable after they had denuded
themselves than before, and, moreover, that they knew beforehand
what would be the effect of the operation, we are met by the fact
that they are obeying an impulse which they can not resist, and
that the idea of self-sacrifice is therefore untenable. A sacrifice
it may be; but not a self-sacrifice as we understand that phrase at
the present day.

In like manner, also, the beautiful gold-tail moth (Porthesia
chrysorrhcea), so well known for the soft downy plumage of its

THE RABBIT. 47

wings, and the large round tuft of golden hairs upon the end of
its body, robs itself of the latter adornment after it has laid its
eggs, and shelters the future brood with an elegant thatch, com-
posed of those downy hairs. Yet there is no self-sacrifice in-
volved in the act, which is as purely instinctive as that of laying
the eggs ; and I do not believe that the insect has the least idea
of the future prospects of the eggs, or possesses any foreknowl-
edge of the snow and bitter frost of the coming winter. Even if
she did know that she was depriving herself of a natural adorn-
ment for the sake of her offspring, the act would lose little of its
instinctive character, and may find a parallel in humanity, when a
fond mother devotes the once-cherished robes of her bridehood to
her babe, and feels the keenest enjoyment in wrapping the costly
furs and sheeny satins around its little limbs.

So with the ordinary incubation of birds. Didactic writers are
in the habit of holding up for our admiration the conduct of the
bird who leaves all her accustomed pleasures, and submits to a
voluntary imprisonment in her nest until her eggs are hatched.
These writers are entirely wrong, inasmuch as they assign to the
lower animals certain attributes which belong only to man. I do
not intend to depreciate in any way the faculties of the animal
creation. On the contrary, I believe that the lower animals are
endowed with gifts more extended than we generally suppose.
But, as has already been remarked, we must not judge them by
our own standard ; and, instead of elevating them to our position,
we should try to lower ourselves to theirs. By doing so there is
nothing derogatory to the pre-eminence of human nature. "We
know that the best schoolmaster is not merely he who is the best
scholar, but he who possesses the faculty of descending from his
lofty elevation, of identifying himself with his pupils, and, for the
time, sharing their ignorance, and so placing himself in their po-
sition. In like manner, the best naturalist is not necessarily he
who has read the most about animals, nor he who attributes to
them the feelings which he himself would experience in similar
situations, but he who can divest himself, for the nonce, of his su-
periority, and conjecture the thoughts which would enter the lim-
ited minds of the creatures with which he is brought in contact.

Suppose, for example, that I am training a dog, which happens
to be the case at present. If I were to judge the motives of that
dog by my own ideas, I should fall into grievous errors, and fail
entirely in my object. At present the animal commits various

48 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

misdemeanors; but, as he does not know them to be such, I
should be very wrong were I to punish him for them. He is at
present obedient to instinct alone, and, until his reasoning pow-
ers have been brought into play, I should not only have no right
to punish him for any instinctive act, but should greatly retard
the duration of his training.

Being unused to human society, he had no idea that he might
not jump on the table and help himself to meat; and his only
idea of shoes, shawls, and other articles of clothing was, that they
were charming playthings, which could be bitten and shaken
without hurting his teeth. So, when I see him standing on the
table, busily at work on a joint, or come upon him in the act of
worrying my favorite shoe, I do not fly in a passion with him
and beat him, but quietly put a stop to his proceedings, and tell
him that he is not to do so again. Not being terrified by the
fear of ill treatment, he perfectly understands the sense though
not the ipsissima verba of the remonstrance, and proves his intel-
ligence by his acts. For example, if he takes another shoe and
is discovered, he immediately drops his tail and ears, and looks
like the culprit that he is. Being a delinquent, and knowing
that he is so, he receives the punishment due to the offense, and
ever afterward the very word "shoe" will make him look utter-
ly ashamed of himself.

Again, if he scampers over my newly-dug flower-borders, and
lies down on my best bed of mignonette, I reflect that, in his po-
sition, I should have done just the same thing, not knowing that
there was any harm in it. So I call him off the flowers, and ex-
plain to him that he is to restrict his gambols to the gravel and
lawn. If, after the explanation, he persists in running over the
borders, he becomes a conscious delinquent, and is punished ac-
cordingly.

Moreover, I manage so that he fancies the punishment to be
inherent in the offense. For example, the animal at present in
training is a Skye puppy of the purest breed, and as such is lia-
ble to be carried off by the numerous vagabonds who turn a dis-
honest penny by dog-stealing. His orders are, that he is not to
go into the road on any pretext whatever, and, as a necessar}*-
consequence, he is always burning to do so. Therefore, I keep a
watch upon him, and as soon as he pushes his way under the
gate, he gets such a shower of swan-shot about his ears that he
yelps in sudden terror, and dives back again. On such occasions

THE RABBIT. 49

lie always comes up to me, as if to report himself, and I always
pat him and pretend to know nothing about his intended escapade.

It is through the neglect of this simple principle that so many
animals are made savage, or sulky, or stupid, by the clowns —
whether in fustian or broadcloth — who have the charge of them.
They lay down certain arbitrary rules of their own, neglect to
teach these rules to the poor animals, and then ill-treat them
because they break the laws which have never been taught to
them. Farm laborers are, as a body, continually committing
this error, and it is to their mingled ignorance and obstinacy that
the savage nature of so many animals is due. A horse, for ex-
ample, strays into some spot where he has no business, and is
immediately chased, and shouted at, and pelted with stones, and
struck with the first weapon that can be seized. Or he turns
his head to the right instead of the left, and straightway is
"chucked" by the bridle, and kicked, and anathematized with
that copious flow of foul language with which our unsophisti-
cated rural swains are so amply supplied.

Now the horse does not in the least know why he is thus
maltreated. He is unconscious of error, and can only attribute
the pain which he suffers to the arbitrary and inscrutable will
of the being whom he hates, but is mysteriously forced to obey.
He knows not that he has broken any law, or disobeyed any
command, and, in consequence, will probably repeat the offense,
and so earn the character of an obstinate and disobedient beast.
If he be a horse of some spirit (and such an animal is always the
best servant when properly treated), he will resent the injustice
of which he is the victim, and bring hoofs or teeth to bear upon
his tormentor, thus earning the character of a savage as well
as an obstinate brute. So it happens, that a fine animal, wdiich
would have cheerfully labored with all his vast strength in the
service of man, is prevented from assuming his rightful place
as a humble friend and servant, and is converted into a trem-
bling slave or a dangerous foe. Those who trained him have
not identified themselves with him.

So it is with the study of zoology; and the only method of
gaining a true insight into the motives of animals, and of identi-
fying ourselves with them, is to put ourselves, as far as possible,
in their condition, and to think how we should act under the
circumstances, were our instincts as powerful and our reason as
weak as theirs.

D

50

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

North America is peculiarly rich in burrowing animals be-
longing to this order — so rich, indeed, that many curious spe-
cies must be omitted for lack of space.

Burrow and Storehouses of Chipping Squirrel.

Among these burrowers, the Chipping Squirrel, or Hackee,
or Chipmuck (Tamias Lysteri), is peculiarly conspicuous. It is
a very pretty little creature, brownish -gray in color, with five
stripes of black and two of pale yellow drawn along the back ;
so that it can not be mistaken for any other animal. Below,
and on the throat, it is a pure snowy white. These are the nor-
mal hues of the fur ; but it is somewhat variable in point of col-
or, the gray and yellow being sometimes quite superseded by the
black.

The burrow of the Chipping Squirrel is rather complicated in
structure, and is always made under the shelter of a wall, an old
tree, or a bank. The hole descends almost perpendicularly for
nearly a yard, and then makes several devious windings in a
slightly ascending direction. Two or three supplementary gal-
leries are driven from the principal burrow, and by means of
them the animal is able to escape almost any foe. The stoat,

CHIPPING SQUIRREL — THE WOODCHUCK. 51

however, can not be' deceived by this complicated arrangement
of tunnels, but winds its lithe body through all the deviating
passages, and kills every Chipping Squirrel which it finds. One
of these bloodthirsty weasels has been known to enter the bur-
row of a Chipping Squirrel, and in a short time to leave it, hav-
ing in the space of a very few minutes killed six victims, a moth-
er and five young, whose lifeless bodies were found in the nurs-
ery when the burrow was opened.

The nest is made of dried leaves of various kinds, and in it the
mother and her offspring can rest in security from all ordinary
foes. Owing to the complexity of the burrow, no little skill is
required to trace its various windings, and much exertion is
needed before they can all be laid bare.

Within this burrow the Chipping Squirrel lays up a wonder-
fully large store of food. It is, in fact, a perfect miser in respect
of provisions, gathering and secreting much more than it can
possibly eat, and never seeming to be satisfied so long as another
acorn or nut can be obtained. The common beaked nut {Corylus
rostraia) is a favorite article of food, and lest the sharp beak
should hurt its mouth, the Chipping Squirrel takes care to bite
off the beak before putting the nut into the ample cheek-pouches
with which it is furnished. It is able to carry four nuts at a
time, three being held in the mouth and the fourth between the
teeth. When thus laden, it presents a most absurd aspect, its
cheeks being so puffed out with its treasure, that it reminds the
classical observer of Alcmseon in the treasury of Croesus. Un-
classical observers may be reminded of a man suffering from a
severe attack of mumps.

The provisions are stored in the lateral galleries, and are of a
very mixed nature, so as to afford variety in diet to the animal.
In one burrow were discovered two quarts of buckwheat, some
grass seeds, nearly a peck of acorns, some Indian corn, and a quart
of the beaked nuts already mentioned.

The popular names of Chipping Squirrel and Chipmuck are
given to this little animal on account of its cry, which sounds like
the chirping of young chickens. It is a quick, lively little crea-
ture, ever on the move, and delighting to dart in and out of the
dense underwood.

The Woodchuck (Arctomys monax) is another well-known
burrower of America. On account of its whistling cry, it is called

52 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

Siffleur by the French ; and its peculiar form has earned for it
the somewhat inappropriate title of Ground Hog.

The burrow of the Woodchuck is rather long, running to a dis-
tance of twenty or thirty feet from the entrance, which is almost
invariably placed under the shelter of a projecting rock, or on the
side of a hill. It descends obliquely for a few feet, and then rises
gradually toward the surface of the ground. At the extremity
of the burrow is placed the nest, which is a rounded chamber of
considerable dimensions. Here the young Woodchucks are born,
and here they remain until they are about five months old, when
they separate from each other, and begin an independent exist-
ence, each digging a small hole about a yard in depth. Many of
these little burrows are made and left unoccupied. Digging out
Woodchucks is a favorite amusement with boys.

Our next example is the Canada Pouched Eat [Pseudostoma
bursarius), sometimes called the Gopher, or Mulo.

This remarkable animal drives burrows of very great extent,
and whenever it gains admission into a garden, it works much
damage to the roots of the plants. Every root that crosses the
tunnel the Pouched Rat will eat; and not only herbs and flowers,
but even fruit trees of many years' growth have been killed by
this destructive animal. In such cases, the extremity of the bur-
row is always to be found among the roots of some tree, which
act at the same time as a defense and a larder ; for the Rat hides
itself under their protection, and eats away their tender shoots.

Like the mole, the Gopher throws up little hillocks at irregular
intervals, sometimes twenty or thirty feet apart, and sometimes
crowded closely together. The nest of the Gopher is made in a
burrow constructed expressly for the purpose, and is placed in a
small globular chamber about eight inches in diameter. The bed
on which the mother and her young repose is made of dried herb-
age and fur plucked from the body. This chamber is the point
from which a great number of passages radiate, and from these
other tunnels are driven. These radiating burrows evidently
serve two purposes, enabling the animal to escape in any direction
when alarmed, and serving to conduct it to its feeding grounds.

In two instances where the Gophers had entered a garden, their
tunnels were traced throughout the greater part of their extent,
and were found to be driven at an average depth of a foot or
eighteen inches below the surface, except when they crossed a

THE CANADA POUCHED RAT — THE CAMAS RAT. 53

Canada Pouched Rat.
{Plan of Burrow.)

path, in which case they dipped to a much lower level. Two of
these burrows were opened, but in neither case was the animal
captured, as the lateral galleries ran on every side into the fields
and woods, so as to afford an easy mode of escape.

The Canada Pouched Rat is nearly a foot in length, and is no-
table for the great development of its incisor teeth, which project
beyond the lip, and for the dimensions of its cheek-pouches, which
measure about three inches in length, and extend as far as the
shoulders. It was formerly thought that the animal employed
these pouches for the conveyance of earth out of its burrow, but
it is now known that it does not make any such use of those nat-
ural pockets.

Another species belonging to the same genus, the Camas Rat
(Pseudostoma borealis), is an indefatigable burrower, making tun-
nels at a very little distance below the surface of the ground, and
throwing up hillocks as it passes along. Like the rabbit, it is a
partially social animal, living in small communities, and probably
drawn together by no personal affection, but by the convenience

54 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

of the locality. The name of Camas Rat is derived from its food,
which consists chiefly of the quamash root (Seilla esculentu).

One or two other burrowing rodents deserve a passing notice.
There is the Slepez, or Mole Rat of Asia {Spalax typhlus), an
animal which looks very like a mole, though it belongs to the ro-
dents. It is even less capable of sight than the mole, for its eyes
are not only as small as those of that animal, but are actually cov-
ered by the thickly-furred skin. The burrow which it makes is
very like that of the Gopher, and consists of a series of tunnels
driven through the earth at no great depth from the surface, and
from which radiate a vast number of lateral passages.

The Sand Mole of Southern Africa (Bathyergus maritimus) is
another of these shallow burrowers, and by the abundance of its
tunnels, and the very trifling depth at which they are driven, ren-
ders the ground absolutely dangerous to horsemen. It is rather
a large animal, nearly equaling our wild rabbit in dimensions.
The fur of the Sand Mole is remarkable for its woolly texture.

Owing to the peculiar nature of the substance in which the
White Bear {Thalarctos maritimus) makes its curious burrows, I
have placed it after, instead of before the earth -burrowing rodents.

We are told by experienced travelers in northern climes that
nobody need be frozen to death in the snow. They look upon
such a misfortune with a species of contemptuous pity, compas-
sionating the victim of cold for his sufferings, but despising him
for his ignorance. The aboriginal Australian can not compre-
hend how a white man can be so foolish as to die of thirst while
there are so many water-bearing vegetables around him ; the abo-
riginal American is at a loss to understand how a European can
perish of hunger while in the midst of plenty ; and those who
have passed much of their lives amid the snow can hardly con-
ceive an act of such supreme folly as to be frozen to death while
the means of warmth are at hand.

There is no need of a constitution especially organized or sed-
ulously acclimatized to the snow; the benighted traveler who
loses himself in the white expanse, with the heavy flakes falling
thickly round him, need not possess the hardihood of the high-
land "reiver," who cares for no covering save his plaid, and
looks upon a snow -pillow as an effeminate luxury. He who

THE POLAR BEAR.

55

■Mti^ -mf-

The Polar Bear.

finds himself in such a position, and knows how to avail him-
self of the means around him, will welcome every flake that falls,
and instead of looking upon the snow as an enemy whose white
arms are ready to inclose him in a fatal embrace, he hails the
soft masses as a means of affording him warmth and safety.

Choosing some spot where the snow lies deepest, such as the
side of a bank or a tree, or a large stone, he scoops out with his
hands a hollow in which he can lie, and wherein he is sheltered
from the freezing blasts that scud over the land. Wrapping
himself in his garments, he burrows his way as deeply as he
can, and then lies quietly, allowing the snow to fall upon him
unheeded. The extemporized cell in which he reclines soon
begins to show its virtues. The substance in which it is hol-
lowed is a very imperfect conductor of heat, so that the traveler

56 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

finds that the caloric exhaled from his body is no longer swept
off by the wind, but is conserved around him, and restores
warmth and sensation to his limbs. The hollow enlarges slight-
ly as the body becomes warm, and allows its temporary inhabit-
ant to sink deeper into the snow, while the fast falling flakes rap-
idly cover him, and obliterate the traces of his presence.

There is no fear that he should be stifled for want of air, for
the warmth of his breath always keeps a small passage open,
and the snow, instead of becoming a thick uniform sheet of white
substance, is broken by a little hole round which is collected a
mass of glittering hoar-frost, caused by the congelation of the
breath. There is no fear now of perishing by frost, for the
snow -cell is rather too hot than too cold, and the traveler can
sleep ss warmly, if not as composedly, as in his bed at home.

The reader may possibly remember that, even in the British
Islands, the snow -bed is almost annually brought into requisi-
tion.

The use of snow as a warm mantle to protect the young crops
from the frost is familiar to all. Some of us have seen, and we
have nearly all read of, the wonderful scenes that take place
among the Scottish mountains, where the snow-drifts are heaped
like white hills by the wayward tempest, taking all kinds of fan-
tastic forms, and scooped into bays, and precipices, and craggy
mountains, with outlines as bold and sharp as if cut in unyield-
ing granite. After such storms as raise these strange mockeries
%f ruo-ged landscape, whole flocks of sheep are missing, and must
be sought by the shepherd and his faithful dog.

As the two allies press onward in their quest, they walk at
random, for the snow masses have swept over hill and dale, have
obliterated all the well-known landmarks, raised hills where hol-
lows had been, and have changed the face of nature. Left to
himself the shepherd would scarcely discover a single sheep, and
in all probability would find himself in the very predicament
from which he seeks to rescue his woolly charge. Were it not
for the fine instincts of the quadruped many a flock would be
lost, for the dog sniffs and runs about, and raises his nose in the
air as the well-known odor salutes his nostrils, and finally dashes
forward and comes to a stand-still over a little hole in the snow,
around which is gathered a slight incrustation of hoarfrost. This
is a sure indication that the sheep are below and still living, and
then the shepherd breaks through the roof of the snowy cell with

THE WHITE BEAR. 57

his pole, and rescues the starving animals from their perilous po-
sition.

The sheep which are thus preserved from the effects of the
cold do not voluntarily burrow into the snow. They are not
intended to pass a large portion of their lives in a subnivean
abode, and their presence under the snow is quite accidental.
Striving to avoid the chilling blasts of the wind, they crowd to-
ward any object that may shelter them from the cruel tempest,
and while huddled together, the snow-drifts are heaped around
them, and cover them effectually. Under such circumstances
they often die of starvation if they are left undiscovered for too
long a period, after having nibbled all the wool from each others'
backs.

But the White Beau intentionally places herself in such a
position, and toward the month of December retreats to the side
of a rock, where, by dint of scraping, and allowing the snow to
fall upon her, she forms a cell in which to reside during the pe-
riod of her accouchement. Within this strange nursery she pro-
duces her young, and remains with them beneath the snow until
the month of March, when she emerges into the outer air, bring-
ing with her the baby bears, who are then about as large as or-
dinary rabbits. As the time passes on, the breath of the family,
together with the warmth exhaled from their bodies, serves to
enlarge the cell, so that in proportion with their increasing di-
mensions, the accommodation is increased to suit them. As is
the case with the snow-coverecl sheep, the hidden Bear may be
discovered by means of the little hole which is made by the
warm breath, and is rendered more distinguishable by the hoar-
frost which collects around it.

This curious abode is not sought by every Polar Bear. None
of the males trouble themselves to spend so much time in a
state of seclusion ; and as the only use of the retreat is to shel-
ter the young, the unmarried females roam freely about during
the winter months. The habit of partial hibernation is common
to most, if not to all true Bears, and we find that the White Bear
of the Polar regions, the Brown Bear of Europe, and the Black
Bear of Northern America, agree in this curious habit. Before
retiring into winter quarters, the Bear eats enormously, and, driv-
en by an unfailing instinct, resorts to the most nutritious diet, so
that it becomes prodigiously fat. In this condition it is in the
best state for killing, as the fur partakes of the general fullness of

58 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

the body, and becomes thick and sleek, as is needful when we
consider the task which it has to perform.

During the three months of her seclusion, the Polar Bear takes
no food, but exists upon the store of fat which has been accumu-
lated before retiring to her winter home. A similar phenomenon
may be observed in many of the hibernating animals, but in the
Bear it is more remarkable from the fact that she has not only to
support her own existence, but to impart nourishment to her off-
spring. It is true, that in order to enable them to find sufficient
food, they are of wonderfully small dimensions when compared
with the parent ; but the fact remains, that the animal is able to
lay up within itself so large a store of nutriment that it can main-
tain its own life and suckle its young for a space of three months
without taking a morsel of food.

It is worthy of notice, also, that in the Bears of the Old as
well as the New World, is found the curious phenomenon of the
" tappen," a hard concreted substance, which plugs up the intes-
tine, and seems to be of service in retaining the animal in condi-
tion. In Scandinavia, where the Bears of both sexes retire to
winter quarters, and remain in their hidden recesses for five full
months, the tappen is very seldom cast until the animal leaves
its den. In the rare instances where such an event has hap-
pened, the Bear is said to have become miserably thin and weak.
Full particulars of the tappen and the hibernating habits of the
Brown Bear may be found in Lloyd's " Field Sports of Northern
Europe."

There are other animals which burrow under the snow,
though they do so for the sake of finding food, and not of form-
ing a habitation. Several of the Arvicolse, or field-mice of North
America, are in the habit of driving long tunnels under the snow
in search of food, and are so successful in this curious mode of
foraging that they in general become quite fat during the winter
months, when every green leaf has fallen, and every herb is cov-
ered with a thick mantle of snow.

From a work of this character, so remarkable an animal as
the Pichiciago ought not to be omitted. Its scientific name is
Chlamyphorus truncatus, and is very happily chosen, as will pres-
ently be seen.

The Pichiciago is not larger than an ordinary mole, and in its

THE PICHICIAGO.

59

general habits somewhat resembles that animal. The shape of
its body sufficiently indicates its burrowing propensities, and the
view of the skeleton confirms the aspect of its outward form.
The bones of the fore legs are short, thick, and arched in that
manner which is so indicative of great muscular power, and even
those of the hind legs are remarkably strong in proportion to the
size of the animal. The fore paws are enormously large, palm-
shaped, and furnished with five strong, curved, and compressed
claws, so as to form admirable digging instruments. The snout
is rather long and pointed, and, as in the mole, the eyes are very
small, and hidden under the soft dense fur.

It is a native of Chili, and seems to be of rare occurrence,
though it may probably be more plentiful than is generally
imagined, its subterranean habits and timid nature seldom per-
mitting it to be seen. Like the mole, it lives beneath the earth,
scooping out long galleries in the soil, and probably feeding
upon insects like the rest of the edentate animals.

Pichiciago.

The chief point of interest which strikes an observer, when
looking at a Pichiciago, is the cuirass with which its body is de-

CO HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

fended. It is made and arranged in a very peculiar manner. The
cuirass looks as if a number of squared plates of horn had been
sewn upon short lengths of tape, and then the tape bands laid side
by side and fastened to each other. It is not fixed to the animal
throughout its whole extent, as might be supposed, but is only at-
tached along the spine, and on the top of the head. It does not
merely protect the back, but, when it reaches the insertion of the
tail, turns suddenly downward as if on hinges, and forms a kind
of flap over the hind-quarters, which are short and square, as if
abruptly cut off by a perpendicular blow with a sharp instrument.
This arrangement affords a perfect protection to the hind-quarters
while the animal is burrowing, and effectually repels any attack
that might be made from the rear, reminding the observer of the
shell with which the testacella is furnished.

This coat of mail is as flexible as the chain or scale armor of
the olden times, and accommodates itself to every movement of
the animal. The rest of the body is covered with a coat of soft,
yellowish fur, nearly as fine as that of the mole, and much longer,
but not so dense. The scientific name of the Pichiciago relates
to the mail-clad body and the peculiar form of the hind-quarters,
the generic title signifying "man tie -bearer," and the specific
name, " abruptly shortened."

The Armadillo can run with considerable speed, and some
species are said to be able to outstrip a man. This may possibly
be the case in the native country of the animal, but those speci-
mens which have been brought to England in a living state would
certainly be overtaken by a man of ordinary powers. They get
over the ground at a sharp pace, using a queer little jog-trot kind
of movement, and display an easy flexibility of body and agilhvy
of limbs, which never fail to astonish those who have only seen
the stiffened specimens in a museum.

They are mostly nocturnal animals, concealing themselves in
their burrows by day, and coming out at night to search for food.
The burrows in which they live are generally about thirteen or
fourteen feet in length, descending in an abruptly sloping direc-
tion for some three or four feet, and then taking a sudden bend,
and inclining slightly upward. In these subterranean homes the
mother Armadillo produces and nurtures her young, which are
on an average about four or five in number.

All the Armadillos are natives of the tropical and temperate
regions of South America.

THE GIANT ARMAIIII.T.I

THE ARMADILLO. 63

The various species of Armadillo, all mailed animals, are mighty
burrowers, residing in holes which they have dug with their pow-
erful fore limbs, and obtaining much of their food below the sur-
face of the earth. They are carnivorous beings, and feed upon
insects and all kinds of animal substances. One species, the Giant
Armadillo (Priodonta giga.s), is so determined a burrower, that it
has often been known to dig up dead bodies for the purpose of
feeding on them. All these creatures, however, are fond of ani-
mal substances, and many of them may be found upon the savan-
nas of South America, feasting greedily upon the bodies of the
cattle which are slaughtered so recklessly for the sake of their
hides. In all these animals the coat of mail is exceedingly hard,
so hard, indeed, that it is used for sharpening the long Spanish
knife, which is universally carried by the Gauchos.

Digging these animals out of their retreat is no easy business.
According to Mr. Waterton, the method adopted is simple, though
laborious. As the Armadillos burrow like rabbits in a warren,
the first point is to ascertain whether the inhabitant is at home.
This is done by pushing a stick into each hole, and watching for
mosquitoes. If any of these troublesome flies emerge, the inhab-
itant is at home; if not, there is no use in searching farther.
When the presence of an Armadillo is satisfactorily ascertained,
a long rod is thrust into the burrow in order to learn its direc-
tion, and a hole is dug in the ground so as to meet the end of the
stick. A fresh departure is taken from that point, the rod is again
introduced, and by dint of laborious digging the animal is at last
captured.

Meanwhile, the Armadillo is not idle, but continues to burrow
in the sand, in hopes of escaping its persecutors. It can not, how-
ever, dig so fast as they can, and is at last obliged to yield. Mr.
Waterton mentions that he has been obliged to work for three
quarters of a day, and to sink half a dozen pits before a single
specimen could be secured..

If an Armadillo should be surprised, and its retreat to the bur-
row intercepted, it at once sets to work at sinking a fresh tunnel.
So fast, indeed, does it excavate, that if a horseman sees one of
these animals, he must almost tumble from his steed if he wishes
to capture the active creature. And, when he has grasped it, he
must be careful about his hands, or he will suffer severe wounds
from the powerful claws of the Armadillo. As with the pichici-
ago, the coat of mail, which appears so hard and stiff in the stuffed

G-i HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

specimen, is perfectly flexible during life, enabling the limbs of
the animal to enjoy their full play, and even permitting the owner
to roll itself into a ball when it is threatened with danger.

The different species of Manis deserve a passing notice. They
are all burrowers, and are furnished with armor even better cal-
culated for defense than that of the armadillo, inasmuch as it as-
sumes somewhat of an offensive as well as a defensive character.
All these animals are covered with large, sharp-edged scales, of
a stout horny consistence, which overlap each other like the tiles
of a house. They are of wonderful hardness, and form a buckler
which is impenetrable to any weapons possessed by the carnivo-
rous animals of the regions wherein it resides. A specimen of the
Bajjerkeit, or Short-tailed Manis of India {Manis pentadac-
tyla), now before me, affords a good example of this weapon-resist-
ing power. Edwin Arnold, Esq., to whom I am indebted for this
specimen, possessed it in a living state for a considerable time, and
when he was about to leave India, determined to kill the animal
and take the skin with him. Accordingly, he fired three barrels
of a Colt's revolver pistol at the Manis, but without the slightest
effect, and was at last obliged to introduce the point of a dagger
under the scales, and drive the weapon into the heart. On exam-
ining the interior of the skin, the wound caused by the double-
edged dagger is plainly perceptible, but I can not find the slight-
est trace of the bullets. One of the balls, indeed, recoiled upon
the intending destroyer.

When the Manis is alarmed, it rolls itself up, wraps its tail over
the body, and lies in conscious security, the horny scales acting as
a buckler, and their sharp edges deterring enemies from the attack
as much as the quills of the porcupine or the spines of the hedge-
hog.

The curious Aard Yark of Southern Africa (Orycteropus Ca-
pensis) is another of the earth-burrowers, residing, for the most
part, in great holes which it scoops in the ground.

The name Aard Vark is Dutch, signifying Earth-hog, and is
given to the animal on account of its extraordinary powers of ex-
cavation and the swine-like contour of its head. The claws with
which this animal works are enormous, as, indeed, is needful for
the task which they are intended to perform. They are by no
means intended merely to excavate burrows in soft or sandy soil,

THE AARD VARK.

65

though they are frequently employed for that purpose ; but they
are designed for labors far more arduous. By means of these im-
plements, the Aard Vark tears to pieces the enormous ant-hills
which stud the plains of Southern Africa — edifices so strongly
made as to resemble stone rather than mud, and capable of bear-
ing the weight of many men on their summits. These marvelous
dwellings (of which we shall see something in a future page) are
absolutely swarming with inmates ; and it is for the purpose of
feeding upon the tiny builders that the Aard Vark plies its de-
structive labors.

Toward evening the Aard Vark issues from the burrow where-
in it has lain asleep during the day, proceeds to the plains, and
searches for an ant-hill in full operation. With its powerful
claws it tears a hole in the side of the hill, breaking up the stony

E

66 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

walls with perfect ease, and scattering dismay among the inmates.
As the ants run hither and thither, in consternation, their dwell-
ing falling like a city shaken by an earthquake, the author of all
this misery flings its slimy tongue among them, and sweeps them
into its mouth by hundreds. Perhaps the ants have no concep-
tion of their great enemy as a fellow-creature, but look upon the
Aard Vark as we look upon the earthquake, the plague, or any
other disturbance of the usual routine of nature. Be this as it
may, the Aard Vark tears to pieces many a goodly edifice, and
depopulates many a swarming colony, leaving a mere shell of ir-
regular stony wall in the place of the complicated and marvelous
structure which had sheltered so vast a population.

The ant-hills thus destroyed are metamorphosed into caverns,
which form hiding-places for the jackals and other predaceous
beasts, and are resorted to by various serpents. The Kaffir tribes
often use them as extemporized burial vaults, and thrust into
them the dead bodies of their comrades. Owing to the great
burrowing powers of the Aard Vark, the capture of a living
specimen is a task of enormous difficulty, the claws being instru-
ments of excavation that conquer the spade of civilized man.
Unless disturbed, however, and forced to dig deeper through fear
of capture, the Aard Vark makes but a shallow burrow, and lies
at a short distance from the surface of the earth. The excava-
tions are, however, deep enough and plentiful enough to be dan-
gerous to the traveler, causing the wheels of wagons to sink into
them, so that the machines capsize. Horses, too, frequently fall
into these treacherous pitfalls while the hunter is in full chase;
and severe injuries are sometimes the consequence of such a
mishap.

There are two large islands, one large enough to take rank
as a continent, which are pre-eminent for the strange character of
the creatures which inhabit them. Whenever an animal of more
than usual oddity is brought to England, we may safely conjec-
ture that it was taken either in Madagascar or Australia. The
creatures which we are now about to examine are natives of the
latter country.

Perhaps there never was a more extraordinary and unique
being than the well-known animal which is so familiar to us
under many titles. Some call it the Duckbill, on account of
its mandibles, which are ludicrously like those of the bird from

THE DUCKBILL.

G7

which it derives its name. Others call it the Water Mole, on
account of its aquatic habits and mole-like fur.

Some scientific naturalists have called it the Orniihorhynchus
paradoxus ; others have given it the name of Platypus anatinus
— the former title being to my mind by far the more appropriate
and expressive of the two. The natives of Australia have sev-
eral names for this remarkable animal ; some calling it Mallan-
gong, others Tambreet, and others Tohunbuck — the second of
these titles being most generally in use.

Jlallaugong or Duckbill.

Until Dr. Bennett prosecuted his well-known researches in
Australia, no European knew precisely whether the Duckbill
was a burrower, or, indeed, whether it had a home of any kind.
The natives were well aware of the fact that the animal dug
tunnels into the ground, and showed great address in discover-
ing the burrows and unearthing the inmates. There, however,
their knowledge seemed to end. The only value of an animal
to a native Australian is its capability of being eaten, and the
only lore which an Australian troubles himself to acquire is the
knowledge of the habits of the animal with reference to catching

68 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

it. When he knows where to look for an animal, and how to
kill it, he has reached the limit of his education, and never troub-
les his brain about any branch of learning which does not assist
him in procuring something to eat.

In accordance with this principle, Dr. Bennett found that the
native Australians were admirable assistants and safe guides up
to a certain extent. They could discover the hidden burrows
of the Duckbill with instinctive certainty, and could then dig out
the animal with their pointed sticks faster than the Europeans
with their spades. They knew, moreover, that the burrow had a
very evil savor, as is the case with many burrows, and cautioned
Dr. Bennett not to thrust his hand into the tunnel, because " he
make smell hand." But in all points of abstract natural history,
they were totally at fault.

They did not agree as to the domestic economy of the Duck-
bill, and were not at all sure whether the young were born alive
or hatched from eggs. Some advocated the latter opinion, and
said that "old woman have eggs, there in so many days;" but
their ideas of the eggs in question were exceedingly vague, oval
and spherical eggs being equally declared to belong to the Duck-
bill. Others rejected the egg theory. " Bel cam bango (no egg),"
said they, " tumble down ; pickaninny tumble down." And, as
if to show the value of inductive reasoning, it more than once
happened that when the natives positively averred that the
Duckbill could not possibly be hidden in certain localities, Dr.
Bennett conjectured that she was very likely to be there, and
succeeded in finding her in the very spot which he had pointed
out.

On looking at a living Duckbill, few would set it down as an
excavator of the soil ; yet it is a burrower, and makes tunnels
of great length and some complexity. The soft broad membrane
that extends beyond the claws while the animal is walking or
swimming, and in the latter case forms a paddle by which the
creature can propel itself swiftly through the water, falls back
when the foot is employed for digging, and aids the animal in
flinging back the soil which its claws have^ scraped away. The
rotund body is admirably adapted for traversing the burrows,
though the stuffed specimens which generally are seen in mu-
seums give but little idea of such capability. As a general rule,
these stuffed specimens are much too long, too stiff, too straight,
too flat, and too shriveled. During life, the body is round, and

THE DUCKBILL. 69

the skin hangs in loose folds around it, having a very curious as-
pect when the creature is walking upon the land. The Duckbill
is, in fact, so very odd a being, that dogs who see it for the first
time, as it scrambles along with its peculiar waddling gait, will
sit and prick up their ears, and bark at the strange animal, buf
will not dare to meddle with it ; while cats fairly turn tail, and
scamper away from so uncanny a beast. The hair with which
the body is so densely covered is admirably suited to an animal
which passes its time in the water or underground. Next the
skin there is a thick, close coating of woolly fur, through which
penetrates a second coat of long hairs, which are very slender at
their bases, and can therefore turn in any direction, like those of
the mole. The eyes are fuller and rounder than might be ex-
pected in an animal that passes so much of its time underground;
but they are defended from the earth by a remarkable leathery
flap, which surrounds the base of the mandibles, and looks very
like the leathern guard of a foil. This curious appendage has
probably another use, and is intended to prevent the bill from
being thrust too deeply into the mud when the animal is engaged
in searching for food.

The wonderful duck-like mandibles into which the head is pro-
longed are sadly misrepresented in the stuffed specimens which
we generally see, and are black, stiff, and shriveled, as if cut from
shoe-leather. The dark color is unavoidable, at all events in the
present state of taxidermy. Bare skin invariably becomes black-
ish-brown by lapse of time, no matter what the previous color
may have been, so that the delicate tints of an English maiden's
cheek and the sable hue of the blackest negro would, in a few
years, assume the same dingy color, and become quite undistin-
guishable from each other. But there is no excuse npwadays
for allowing the bare skin to become shriveled. The colors we
can not preserve, the form we can and ought to reproduce. No
one would conceive, after inspecting a dried specimen, how round,
full, and pouting were once those black and wrinkled mandibles,
and how delicately they had been colored while the animal re-
tained life. Their natural hue is rather curious, the outer surface
of the upper mandible being very dark gray, spotted profusely
with black, and its lower surface pale flesh-color. In the lower
mandible the inner surface is flesh-colored, and the outer surface
pinky white, sometimes nearly pure white.

Having now glanced at the general form of the Duckbill as it

70 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

is in life, and not as it is in museums, we will pass to the habita-
tion which it constructs.

Being a peculiarly aquatic animal, the Duckbill always makes
its home in the bank of some stream, almost invariably at those
wider and stiller parts of the river which are popularly called
ponds. There are always two entrances to the burrow, one below
the surface of the water and the other above, so that the animal
may be able to regain its home either by diving, or by slipping
into the entrance which is above the surface. This latter en-
trance is always hidden most carefully under overshadowing
weeds and drooping plants, and is so carefully concealed that the
unaccustomed eyes of a European can very seldom find it.

When the grasses, etc., are put aside, there is seen a hole of
moderate size, on the sides of which are imprinted the footmarks
of the animal. By the dampness and sharpness of these impres-
sions, the natives can form a tolerably accurate opinion whether
the creature is likely to be at home or not, as, in the former case,
the footmarks which point upward are fresher and wetter than
those which .point downward. While digging out the Duck-
bill, they occasionally pull out a handful of the clay, inspect the
marks, and then fall to work afresh. From this hole the burrow
passes upward, winding a sinuous course, and often running to a
considerable length. From twenty to thirty feet is the usual av-
erage, but burrows have been opened where the length was full
fifty feet, and where the course was most annoyingly variable,
bending and twisting about so as to tire the excavators, and make
them quite disgusted with their work. The natives never dig
out the entire burrow, but push sticks along it, and sink shafts
upon the sticks; just, in fact, as a boy digs out a humble bee's
nest, by inserting twigs into the hole, and digging down upon
them.

This serpentine form of burrow is in all probability attributa-
ble in a great degree to the peculiar instincts of the animal. As,
however, the course of the tunnel is extremely variable, and no
two burrows have precisely the same curves and windings, it is
likely that various obstacles, such as roots and stones, may turn
the animal out of its course while engaged in digging its subter-
ranean home, and therefore that the shape of the burrow may in
some measure depend upon the character of the ground.

At the upper extremity of the burrow is placed the nest, an ex-
cavation of a somewhat oval form, much broader than the width

THE DUCKBILL. 71

of the burrow, and well supplied with dry weeds and grasses, upon
which the young may rest. They appear to remain in these bur-
rows until they have attained half their full growth, for Dr. Ben-
nett captured .a pair of young Duckbills, ten inches in length,
which seemed not to have left the burrow. Sometimes there are
four young in one nest, and sometimes there is only one, but the
usual number is two.

The Duckbill is a far more active animal than could be con-
ceived merely by looking at its form. It is very powerful in pro-
portion to its size, so strong, indeed, that it can not be held in the
hands without great difficulty, slipping through the grasp almost
as if it were oiled. The loosely-hanging integuments aid it in
this method of escape, and under them may be felt the powerful
subcutaneous muscles working with vast energy. It is an admi-
rable climber, not only in its wild state, but among civilized ob-
jects. Dr. Bennett found that a pair of tame Duckbills, which
he kept for some time, were in the habit of clambering to the tops
of bookshelves and other articles of furniture, achieving this feat
by a process similar to that which is employed by chimney-sweep-
ers, and those whose business calls upon them to ascend narrow
perpendicular passages — namely, by placing their backs against
the wall and their feet against the bookcase, and so working their
way upward, in a strictly vermicular fashion.

I remember that during my childhood I was frequently found
upon the roof of a stable by my parents,-who could not conceive
the method by which so small a boy could have reached so great
an altitude. The fact was, that a summer-house had been built
within a foot or two of the stable-wall, so that by means of placing
my feet against one wall and my back against the other, I was
soon deposited on the roof of the summer-house. A jump and a
clutch then transferred me to the stable-roof, where the grapes grew ;
whereby was manifested the practical advantage of watching the
climbing boys ascend the chimney.

This mode of climbing may probably be called into operation
while the animal is engaged in ascending the almost perpendicu-
lar part of the burrow, just above the water's edge.

The whole life of this animal is very similar to that of the
musk-rat, already mentioned, and is an alternation between the
water and the burrow. While swimming, the animal hardly
looks like a living and breathing creature, but bears a great re-
semblance to the loose bundles of weeds that float vagrielv in the

72 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

water. Though decidedly aquatic in its habits, the Duckbill can
not withstand a very long immersion in the water; and Dr. Ben-
nett found that few of them could endure an immersion of fifteen,
or at the most twenty minutes, without being much fatigued by
the exertions which they made in order to keep themselves
afloat. Several persons who have procured living specimens
have drowned them by placing them in water from which there
was no mode of escape.

There is another strange Australian animal, also remarkable
for its power of burrowing. This is the creature which is known
as the Porcupine Ant-eater {Echidna hystrix), and is called by
the very erroneous names of Porcupine, or Hedgehog. The na-
tives have several names for it, some calling it ISTicobejan, others
Jannocumbine, and others Cojera,

Here I may mention the curious circumstance that in three or-
ders of animals, widely separated from each other in structure,
habits, and locality, the hairs of the back are greatly enlarged,
and developed into stout and sharp spines. There are several
species of hedgehog, natives of Europe, and the Tanrecs of Mada-
gascar, all insectivorous animals ; there are the various porcupines
which inhabit Africa, Asia, Southern Europe, and America, and
belong to the rodent group ; and there is the Echidna, one of the
monotrematous animals which is found only in Australia.

The Echidna is a wonderful burrower, and, in spite of its small
size, can make its way through very hard ground. It can pull
up stones of great size if it can only contrive to insert its paws
and find a convenient crevice for them, and is so quick at this
task that to confine the animal is by no means an easy matter,
even a paved yard affording but a poor safeguard against its es-
cape. In the open country it digs with such extreme rapidity
that it can hardly be captured, gathering its back into an arched
form, collecting the legs under the body, scratching away with
the feet, and sinking like a stone in a cup of treacle.

These paws are not only potent in digging, but in clinging to
any object, and their hold is so wonderfully firm that they can
not be disengaged even from smooth boards without very great
trouble. To grasp the creature is impossible, because the sharp
points of the projecting spines are capable of inflicting painful
wounds, and its feet are so completely hidden under the body
that they can not be separately detached. Dr. Bennett gives a

THE PORCUPINE ANT-EATER. 73

very graphic account of its clinging powers : — " When one of
these animals was given to me, and placed in the box of the gig
to bring home, on arriving there I could not by any effort re-
move it, from its adhering to the boards like a limpet to the
rocks (the head and snout being drawn in). Only a formidable
array of prickles was visible, so sharp that on the least touch
they left a very painful feeling on the hands. So firmly was -the
animal fixed, that it was impossible to stir it from that position.
At last, the method of removing limpets and chitons from the
rocks was resorted to, and a spade being inserted gradually at
one extremity of the animal, it was scraped from its position with
some difficulty, and even then it was some length of time before
we succeeded in grasping the hind legs, and conveying the troub-
lesome creature to the place of confinement allotted to it."

Grasping it by the hind leg is the only method of conveying
this animal with safety, for it kicks so hard with its powerful and
armed feet, that the hands and clothes will suffer severely from
the strokes; while the violent plunges of the body are sure to
bring the pointed prickles into unpleasant contact with the fin-
gers. In spite of the difficulty of procuring living specimens,
and the interest which attaches itself to an animal of whose hab-
its so little is known, Dr. Bennett was not very sorry when his
specimen — which we can not call a tame one — was one day
found dead; for its burrowing propensities were so destructive,
and its prickles so annoying, that it made itself into a positive
nuisance.

If attacked when on ground into which it can not burrow rap-
idly, the Porcupine Ant-eater immediately curls itself into a ball,
hedgehog-wise, and sets its foes at defiance. The large perfora-
ted spur with which the hind feet of the male are armed, and
through which is poured a liquid secreted by a gland of consid-
erable size, is a very formidable-looking weapon, but to all ap-
pearances is really harmless. Dr. Bennett often handled the ani-
mal, but never saw it attempt to use the spur, and found that
the duckbill, which is armed in a similar manner, was equally
innocuous.

At the present date, January, 186-1, the living animal may be
seen in the collection at the Zoological Gardens.

74 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

CHAPTER II.

BURROWING BIRDS.

The Sand Martin. — Mode of Burrowing and Shape of the Tunnel. — Enemies of the
Sand Martin. — Midges and Martins. — The Kingfisher and its Habits. — Its Bur-
row and peculiar Nest. — Number of the Eggs. — The Puffin a feathered Usurper.
— The Feroe Islands and the Puffins. — Pro aris et focis. — The Mutton Bird and
its Burrows. — Snakes and Birds. — The Jackdaw, Stockdove, and Sheldrake.
— Nest of the Sheldrake. — The Bee-eater and its Habits. — Its Burrow and Nest.
— The Stormy Petrel. — Its Mode of Nesting and shallow Tunnels — Mode of
feeding its Young. — Evil Odor of its Burrow. — The Woodpecker. — Its Uses and
misunderstood Character. — Method of Burrowing. — The Fungus and the Wood-
pecker.— American Woodpeckers. — The Wry-neck. — Its popular Names and Lo-
cality of its Nest. — The Starling. — Its social Character. — Locality of its Habita-
tion.— The Tree Creeper. — The Nut-hatch and the Hoopoe. — Curious Nest
of the Hoopoe.— The Cole-tit and its Habits. — A Cole-tit's Nest at Walton Hall.
— The Toucan.— The enormous Beak and its Uses. — Nest of the Toucan. — The
gWIFT. — Its Nest and Eggs. — Its curious Feet and their Structure.

We now take leave of the furred burrowers, and proceed to
those which wear feathers instead of hair.

One of the best examples of Bird Burrowers is the well-known
Sand Martin ( Cotile riparia), so plentiful in this country. The
powers of this pretty little bird seem to be quite inadequate to
the arduous labors which it performs so easily, and few would
suppose, after contemplating its tiny bill, that it was capable of
boring tunnels into tolerably hard sandstone. Such, however,
is the case, for the Sand Martin is familiarly known to drive its
tunnels into sandstone that is hard enough to destroy all the
edge of a knife.

The bird does not prefer a laborious to an easy task, and if
it can find a spot where the soil is quite loose, and yet where
the sides of the burrow will not collapse, it will always take ad-
vantage of such a locality. I have frequently seen such in-
stances of judgment, where the birds had selected the sandy in-
tervals between strata of stone, and so saved themselves from any
trouble except scraping and throwing out the loose sand.

When, however, the Sand Martin is unable to find such a sit-
uation, it sets to work in a very systematic fashion, trying several

THE SAND MARTIN.

75

successive spots with its beak, until it discovers a suitable local-
ity. It then works in a circular direction, using its legs as a
pivot, and by dint of turning round and round, and pecking
away as it proceeds, soon chips out a tolerably circular hole.
After the bird has lived for some time in the tunnel, the shape
of the entrance is much damaged by incessant passing to and fro

Sand Jlartiu.

of the inmates, but while the burrow is still new and untenant-
ed, its form is almost cylindrical. In all cases the tunnel slopes
gently upward, so as to prevent the lodgment of rain, and its
depth is exceedingly variable. About two feet and a half is a
fair average length. Generally, the direction of the burrow is
quite straight, but sometimes it takes a curve, where an obstacle,
such as a stone or a root, has interrupted the progress of the bird.
Should the stone be a large one, the Sand Martin usually aban-

76 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

dons the burrow, and resumes its labors elsewhere, and in a piece
of bard sandstone rock many of these incomplete excavations
may be seen.

At the farthest extremity of the burrow, which is always rath-
er larger than the shaft, is placed the nest — a very simple struc-
ture, being little more than a mass of dry herbage and soft feath-
ers, pressed together by the weight of the bird's body. Upon
this primitive nest are laid the eggs, which are very small, and
of a delicate pinky whiteness.

Few foes can work harm to the Sand Martin during the task
of incubation. Eats would find the soft sandy soil crumble away
from their grasp; and even the lithe weasel would experience
some difficulty in gaining admission to the nest. After the
young Sand Martins are hatched, many foes are on the watch
for them. The magpie and crow wait about the entrance of the
holes, in order to snap up the inexperienced birds while making
their first essays at flight; and the kestrel and sparrow-hawk
come sweeping suddenly among them, and carry off some help-
less victim in their talons.

Man is perhaps the worst foe of the Sand Martin, for there is
a mixture of adventure and danger in taking the eggs, which is
irresistible to the British schoolboy. To climb up a perpendicu-
lar rock, to cling with one hand, while the other is thrust into
the burrow, and to know that a chance slip will certainly snap
the invading arm like a tobacco-pipe stem, is a combination of
joys which no well-conditioned boy can withstand.

Fortunately for the Sand Martins, many of their nests are
placed in situations which no boy can reach, and there are hap-
pily some instances where the services which they render to
mankind are properly appreciated: Mr. C. Simeon, in his "Stray
Notes on Fishing and Natural History," gives an interesting ac-
count of some Sand Martins which were thus gratefully protect-
ed :

"While waiting for the train one afternoon at "Weybridge, I
amused myself with watching the Sand Martins, who have there
a large establishment on either side of the cutting, and got into
conversation with one of the porters about them. On my say-
ing, I supposed that the boys robbed a good many of the nests,
he answered, ' Oh, sir, they would if they were allowed, but the
birds are such good friends to us, that we won't let any body
meddle with them.' I fancied at first that he spoke of them as

THE KINGFISHER. 77

friends in the way of company only, but be explained bis mean-
ing to be, tbat tbe flies about tbe station would be . quite intol-
erable if they were not cleared off by the Martins, which are al-
ways hawking up and down in front of it; adding, that even
during the few hot days which occurred in the spring before
their arrival, the flies were becoming very troublesome. ' Now,'
he said, 'we may now and then see one, but that is all.'

" It was a bright sunny day in July, and the scene was a very
lively and interesting one. The mouths of the holes on both
sides of the cutting were crowded with young martins — as many
perhaps as four or five in each — sunning their barred white
breasts, and waiting to be fed : the telegraph wires formed perch-
es, of which advantage was taken by scores of others more ad-
vanced in growth, and of old ones reposing after their exertions;
while the air was filled with others employed in catering for
their families. All of a sudden the young ones retreated into
their holes ; the wires were deserted, and only a few remained
describing distant circles. I thought that a hawk must have
made his appearance, but it turned out that the alarm had been
caused by two men walking over the heath above, and approach-
ing the holes. The young ones in the holes had no doubt felt
the jar caused by their tread, and those on the wing, who saw
them, had probably given warning, by note, to the others perched
on the wires, who could not have seen, nor, I should think, heard
their approach."

Although the Kingfisher {Alcedo ispida) does not excavate
the whole of the burrow in which it resides, it does, at all events,
alter and arrange a ready-made burrow to suit its own necessi-
ties.

This lovely bird, which is one of the few indigenous British
species that can vie with the bright -feathered denizens of the
tropics, is happily very plentiful in England, scarcely any stream
or lake being without its Kingfishers.

All who are fond of angling, or of walking by the side of
streams, must have noticed the Kingfisher as it sits motionless
on a stone or overhanging branch, peering eagerly into the water
beneath, and watching the fish as they pass and repass its place
of vantage. Brilliant in color though the bird may be, its azure
back and red belly seldom betray it except to a practiced eye, so
immovable is its attitude. Suddenly, down it drops into the wa-

78

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

ter, splashes furiously for a few seconds, emerges with a small
fish in its mouth, and then returns to land. Sometimes it seeks
again the perch from which it descended, and then, throwing in
the air the fish, which has all the while been held across the
beak, catches it dextrously head downward, swallows it with a
few eager gulps, and then looks out for another victim. Some-

Kingfisher.

times it darts with lightning speed along the bank, and, with a
quick flash of the azure plumage, settles for a moment upon the
bank, looks cautiously round, and then pops swiftly into a little
hole. Into this hole we will follow the bird. She always
chooses her residence by the water side, and selects for nidifica-
tion the deserted hole of some quadrupedal burrower. I have
even seen a Kingfisher's nest made in the side of a tiny rivulet
across which a child could step, and which served to conduct the
drainings of an upper to a lower field.

THE KINGFISHER. 79

Generally, the nest is placed in the deserted burrow of a water*
vole, but in this instance it had been made in the empty tunnel
of a water-shrew, so that the hole was of comparatively small di-
mensions, and would not admit my hand and arm without some
artificial enlargement. In all cases, the bird takes care to in-
crease the size of the burrow at the spot where the nest is made,
and to choose a burrow that slopes upward, so that however high
the water may rise, the nest will be perfectly dry.

That the eggs are laid upon dry fish-bones is a fact that has
long been known, but for an accurate account of the nest we are
indebted to Mr. Gould, the eminent ornithologist.

Until he succeeded in removing the nest entire, no one had
been able to perform such a feat, and so well known to all bird-
nesters is the difficulty of the task, that a legend was, and per-
haps- is still, current in various parts of England, that the author-
ities of the British Museum had offered a reward of 100/. to any
one who would deposit in their collection a perfect nest of the
Kingfisher. This feat has been admirably accomplished by Mr.
Gould.

Having discovered the retreat of a Kingfisher, and ascertained
by digging down upon the nest that the bird was laying, he re-
placed the earth, and waited for three weeks before attempting
any farther operations. The chief difficulty was, of course, to
prevent the earth from falling into the nest, and becoming mixed
with the delicate bones of which, it was composed. In order to
obviate such a mishap, Mr. Gould introduced a quantity of cot-
ton wool into the burrow, pushing it to the extremity with a
fishing-rod. He then dug down upon the nest, and captured the
female, who was sitting upon eight eggs. With very great care
he removed the fragile nest, and transferred it to the British Mu-
seum, where it may be seen by any one who will look for it in
the room devoted to such objects.

The nest is composed wholly of fish-bones, minnows furnishing
the greater portion. These bones are ejected by the bird when
the flesh is digested, just as an owl ejects the pellets on which her
eggs are laid. The walls of the nest are about half an inch in
thickness, and its form is very fiat. The circular shape and slight
hollow show that the bird really forms the mass of bones into a
nest, and does not merely lay her eggs at random upon the eject-
or. The whole of these bones were deposited and arranged in
the short space of three weeks.

80 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

It may possibly be owing to these bones and the partial decom-
position which must take place during the time occupied in dry-
ing, that the burrow possesses so exceedingly evil an odor. This
unpleasant effluvium , which may indeed be called by the stronger
name of stench, is wonderfully enduring, and clings to the bird as
well as to its dwelling. The feathers of the Kingfisher are most
lovely to the eye, but the proximity of the bird is by no means
agreeable to the nostrils, the " ancient and fishlike smell" being
extremely penetrating. I have now before me a stuffed and
perfectly dry skin of a Kingfisher, which has been washed and
soaked in water for many hours, and yet retains the peculiar odor,
which is so strong that, after I had prepared it, many and copious
ablutions were required to divest my hands of the horrible ema-
nation.

To those who collect eggs, and care for numbers, the discovery
of a Kingfisher's nest is a singular boon. Not only does the bird
lay a great number of eggs, the aggregate mass of which exceeds
her own dimensions, but she is a fearless and indefatigable layer,
and if the eggs are removed with proper care, she will produce an
enormous number in the course of a season.

The comical little Puffin (Fraiercula arciica) may be reckoned
among the true burrowers, possessing both the will and the power
of excavation, but exercising neither unless pressed by necessity.

As is the custom with most diving birds, the Puffin lays only
one egg, and always deposits it in some deep burrow. If possi-
ble, the bird takes advantage of a tunnel already excavated, such
as that of the rabbit, and "squats" upon another's territory, just
as the Coquimbo owl takes possession of the excavations made by
the prairie dog. The rabbit does not allow its dominion to be
usurped without remonstrance, and accordingly the bird and the
beast engage in fierce conflict before the matter is settled. Al-
most invariably the Puffin wins the day, its powerful beak and
determined courage being more than a match for the superior size
of its antagonist.

When it is unable to obtain a ready-made habitation, it sets to
work on its own account, and excavates tunnels of considerable
dimensions.

The Feroe Islands are notable haunts of the Puffin, because the
soil, which is in many places soft and easily worked, is favorable
for its excavations. The male is the principal excavator, though

THE PUFFIN.

81

Puffin.

he is assisted by the female; and so intent is the bird upon its
work, that it may be capturec^by hand by thrusting the arm into
the burrow. The average length of the tunnel is about three
feet, and it is seldom straight, taking a more or less curved form,
and being furnished with a second entrance. No nest of any
kind is used, but the egg is laid on the earth, at the end of the
burrow, so that, although it is at first beautifully white, it becomes
in a short time stained so deeply that it can seldom be restored to
its primitive purity.

So deeply do the burrows run, that when a passenger is walk-
ing near the edge of the precipice upon which the Puffins breed,
he can hear the old birds grunting below his feet, angry because
they are disturbed by the footsteps above them.

The young Puffin has many foes, who endeavor to seize it be-
fore its bill has attained its full proportions and its muscles have
gained their full powers. The parent birds, however, bravely de-
fend their young, and have been known, as a last resource, to
grasp the invader in the beak, and hurl themselves and the foe
into the sea. Once among the waves, the Puffin is in its natural
element, for it is an admirable swimmer and practiced diver, being

F

82 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

able to catch the swift-finned fishes and bear them home to its
nest. The foe, therefore, must either remain on dry land or lose
the victory, if not its life, for there are few enemies for which the
Puffin is not more than a match when in the water.

Mr. M'Gillivray, in his " Voyage of the Eattlesnake," gives a
curious account of the nesting-place of an allied bird, which bur-
rows in Goose Island, off the North Australian coast.

"The rock is a coarse syenite, forming detached bare masses
and ridges, but none of considerable height. In the hollows the
soil appears rich, dark, and pulverulent, with much admixture of
unformed bird guano. The scanty vegetation is apparently lim-
ited to a grass growing in tussocks, and a few maritime plants.
The ground resembles a rabbit warren, being every where under-
mined by the burrows of the Mutton Bird (Puffinus brevicau-
dus) the size of a pigeon. A person in walking across the island
can scarcely avoid frequently stumbling among these burrows,
from the earth giving way under his feet ; and I was told by the
residents that snakes are very numerous in these holes, living
upon the Mutton Birds. I myself trod upon one which, fortu-
nately, was too sluggish to escape before I had time to shoot it,
and ascertain it to be the well-known ' blacksnake' of the Aus-
tralian colonists {Acanthophis iortor), a very poisonous species.

"... About dusk, clouds of Mutton Birds came in from the
sea, and we amused ourselves with chasing them over the ground
among their burrows, and as many specimens as I required were
speedily provided by knocking them down with a stick. As
usual with the petrel tribe, they bite severely if incautiously han-
dled, and disgorge a quantity of offensive oily matter, the smell
of which pervades the whole island, and which the clothes I then
wore retained for a long time afterward." The curious associa-
tion of the burrowing bird and the venomous snake is very re-
markable, and reminds the observer of the burrowing owl and
the rattlesnake which inhabit the tunnels of the prairie dog.

There are many other birds which pass a semi-burrowing life,
making their nests in hollows already excavated, and either using
them without adaptation or altering them very slightly for the
purpose of depositing their eggs and rearing their young. The
Jackdaw, for example {Corvus monedida), is frequently one of
the semi-burrowers, making its nest within deserted rabbit bur-

THE SHELDRAKE — THE BEE-EATER. 83

rows, when it can find no more congenial locality. The Stock-
dove {Columba cenas) is frequently found in similar situations
placing its rude platform of sticks within the burrow ; and the
common Sheldrake (Tadorna Vulpanser) possesses the same
habit.

The nest of the last-mentioned bird is always placed close to
the water, so that the young may be fed with marine Crustacea.
The female is accustomed to cover the eggs with down plucked
from her own breast. Eabbit warrens upon sea-edged cliffs are
favorite resorts of the Sheldrake. In default, however, of rabbit
burrows, the Sheldrake is well content with any moderately deep
holes in the shore, and therein lays her enormous deposit of eggs,
which are from ten to fifteen in number, and of a white color.
Burrows thus tenanted may be found in many situations, espe-
cially on the banks of estuaries, localities which are always shel-
tered, and almost always produce an abundant supply of food for
the bird and its young brood.

There is a bird- which sometimes visits our island, and which
is more lovely in color than the kingfisher, and far more elegant
in shape. This is the Bee-eater (Aferops ajriaster), so common in
the warmer parts of the Old World. Not only is it rich in color
and delicately shaped, but it is most graceful in its movements,
sweeping through the air with the ease and rapidity of the swift,
and much resembling that bird in the character of its flight.

It is not a large bird, being about the size of the common
thrush, and formed in a more slender manner. Its feathers are
colored in the most exquisite manner, green, azure, yellow, or-
ange, and chocolate-brown, being mixed in a singularly harmo-
nious manner, and relieved by a little white on the forehead, and
a narrow band of deep blue-black under the throat. "When the
sunbeams fall on these gorgeously decorated feathers, the effect is
magnificent in the extreme, for there is not only the light azure
hue which gives to our kingfisher so brilliant an aspect, as it
darts along in its meteor-like flight, but with every movement
of the bird the colors change like those of "shot" silk.

The peculiarly graceful flight of these birds is calculated to
display their lovely colors to the best advantage, and as they
are partially gregarious in their habits, and love to assemble in
little flocks, they afford a magnificent spectacle as they sweep
through the air in devious flight, crossing and recrossing each

84 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

other's course, rising and sinking on facile wing, wheeling swift-
ly, as some more active insect strives to escape from the lovely
destroyers, and ever and anon shooting with arrowy speed as
their ruby -cinctured eyes catch a glance of some distant prey.
Were it not for their harsh, screaming notes, they would seem
almost too beautiful to belong to this world. The splendor of
their plumage is quite tropical, and though the Bee-eater may
not possess the metallic radiance of the humming-bird, the ex-
treme beauty of the silken plumage, which shines in the sun-
beams like spun glass, can not be surpassed, and is far too subtle
to be approached by human art. The greatest master of the
brush, aided by all the resources of the chemist, can do no more
than indicate the wondrous beauty of this bird.

The bird does not restrict itself to insects. My friend, E. Ar-
nold, Esq., tells me that in India he has seen the Bee-eater catch
and devour small fish equal in dimensions to the well-known
minnow of England. These fish are eaten by human beings as
well as by birds, and seem to be intermediate between the smelt
and the white-bait. Among the residents they are known by the
quaint name of ■' Havildar-and-ten," because a dish consists of
eleven or twelve fishes. In the Indian army the Havildar is
equivalent to our sergeant, and has ten men under him, so that
a " Havildar-and-ten" signifies a sergeant and his guard, making-
altogether eleven men. The external resemblance between the
Bee-eater and the kingfisher is patent to all, in spite of the short,
clumsy-looking body and stunted tail of the one, and the slight,
elegant form and lengthened tail of the other ; and it is sufficient-
ly curious, that a light and airy bird, like the Bee-eater, which
feeds upon the most active insects, and catches them on the wing,
should invade the realms of the kingfisher, and procure a meal
from the water.

Near the spot where the Bee-eater hovers about in search of
its daily food, the nest may be found.

As the bird is generally as gregarious in its nesting as in its
flight, there is little difficulty in finding the locality in which it
has formed its temporary home. The Bee -eater is one of the
true burrowers, excavating a hole in some bank, and depositing
its eggs therein. The burrow is not a deep one, seldom exceed-
ing a foot in length, so that the sitting bird is plainly visible
from the exterior. The extremity of the hole is floored and par-
tially lined with moss, upon which are placed five or six eggs, of

THE PETREL. 85

pearly whiteness. Whenever the bank happens to be a conven-
ient one, it is pierced with holes as numerous as those of the
sand martin of our own country ; and if the observer can manage
to conceal himself in close proximity to the nest, and will remain
perfectly quiet, he will witness a scene which is unsurpassable
for beauty.

Although gifted with the rapid wing of the swift, the Bee-
eater does not possess the untiring flight of that bird, and, there-
fore, is accustomed to repose at short intervals, whenever it has
caught a butterfly, or some large and active insect. Numbers of
these lovely birds may be seen perched in rows upon the branch-
es of neighboring trees, exhibiting masses of color that have a pe-
culiarly magnificent effect to the eye. Here they sit for the pur-
pose of eating the prey which they have captured, and the ground
beneath these favored branches is thickly strewn with wings of
butterflies and other insects which they have devoured.

I do not think that the Bee-eater ever makes its nest in En-
gland, for it is only an occasional visitor, and is generally shot
before it has passed many days, or even hours, in this country.
But its nest may be plentifully found in the warmer latitudes of
Europe, and many parts of Asia and northern Africa.

We often find burrowers where we least expect them.

Who would think, on inspecting a specimen of the well-known
Stormy Petrel (Thalassidroma pelagica), that it was able to dig
into the ground, and form the burrow in which it makes its nest?
Such, however, is the case, and the pretty little traverser of the
ocean shows itself to be as accomplished in excavating the
ground as it is in flitting over the waves with its curious mix-
ture of flight and running. If the Stormy Petrel can find a bur-
row already dug, it will make use of it, and accordingly is fond
of haunting rocky coasts, and of depositing its eggs in some suit-
able cleft. It will also settle in a deserted rabbit - burrow, if it
can find one sufficiently near the sea, and is found breeding in
many places which would equally suit the puffin.

Failing, however, all natural or ready - made cavities, the
Stormy Petrel is obliged to excavate ' a tunnel for itself, and
even on sandy ground is able to make its own domicile. Off
Cape Sable, in Nova Scotia, there are many low -lying islands,
the upper parts of which are of a sandy nature, and the lower
composed chiefly of mud. Not a hope is there in such localities

86

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

of already existing cavities, and yet to those islands the Petrels
resort by thousands, for the purpose of breeding. The birds set
resolutely to work, and delve little burrows into the sandy soil,
seldom digging deeper than a foot, and, in fact, only making the
cavity sufficiently large to conceal themselves and their treasure.

Petrel.

Each bird lays a single egg, which is white, and of small di-
mensions. The young are funny-looking objects, and resemble
puffs of white down rather than nestlings. The parent attends
to its young with great assiduity, feeding it with the oleaginous
fluid which is secreted in such quantities by the digestive organs
of this bird. So large indeed is the amount of oil, that in some
parts of the world the natives make the Stormy Petrel into a
lamp, by the simple process of drawing a wick through its body.
The oil soon rises into the wick, and burns as freely as in any

TIIE PETREL. 87

of the really rude and primitive, though ornamental lamps of the
ancients.

Many shore-going birds are equally notable for their capacities
of producing fat in large quantities when they procure a plenti-
ful supply of food. The common sand-piper, for example, which
haunts the muddy shores of tidal rivers, and feeds upon the va-
rious living creatures with which the mud is peopled, accumu-
lates fat to such an extent that to skin the bird properly is al-
most impossible, the thick coating of fat between the skin and the
flesh melting by the heat of the fingers, and running like oil over
the feathers. I could never bring myself to believe in the petrel-
lamp until I had opened the sand-piper when in full condition.

The Petrel only feeds its young by night, remaining on the
wing during the day, and flying to vast distances from the land.
Owing to this habit, and its custom of taking to the sea during
the fiercest storms, it has long been an object of dread to sailors,
whose illogical minds are unable to discriminate between cause
and effect, and fancy that the Petrel, or Mother Carey's Chicken,
as they call the bird, is the being which, by the exercise of some
magic art, calls the storm into existence. They even fancy that
the Petrel never goes ashore nor rests ; and will tell you that it
does not lay its egg in the ground, but holds it under one wing,
and hatches it while engaged in flight. To the vulgar mind, ev-
ery thing incomprehensible is fraught with terrors, and so the
harmless, and even useful Petrel, is hated with strange virulence.

The bird is essentially a storm-lover, for by the violence of the
wind upon the waves the substances on which the bird feeds are
thrown to the surface, and can be snapped up before they sink
again. The Petrel knows by some innate faculty the approach
of a storm, and its appearance is the signal for the careful mariner
to reduce his sails. The ignorant sailors, who know, from long
experience, that the Petrel is the forerunner of a storm, salute it
by the title of Devil's bird, together with sundry other epithets,
all very forcible, but on that very account not to be printed.

Throughout the breeding season the Petrel is indefatigable in
search of food, and will follow ships for considerable distances, in
hopes of obtaining some of the offal that is thrown overboard by
the cook. Even if a cupful of oil be emptied into the water, the
Petrel will scoop it up in its bill, and take it home to its young.
During the night it mostly remains with its offspring, feeding it,
and making a curious grunting noise, something like the croaking

88 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

of frogs. This noise is continued throughout the night, and those
who have visited the great nesting -places of the Petrel, unite in
mentioning it as a loud and peculiar sound. The ordinary cry is
low and short, something like the quacking of a young duck.
By day, however, the birds are silent, and only those who keep
nightly watch on the ship's deck can have an opportunity of hear-
ing their chattering cry.

The burrow in which the young Petrel is hatched is extremely
odoriferous, the oily food on which the bird lives having itself a
very rancid and unsavory scent ; and in consequence of feeding
upon this substance, both the habitation and the inmates are ex-
tremely offensive to the nostrils. The young bird is at first very
helpless, and remains in its excavated home until it is several
weeks of age. One of these birds was seen on the Thames in the
month of December, 1823, where it attracted some attention, its
peculiar mode of pattering over the water causing it to be taken
for a wounded land bird, and inducing many persons to go in
vain pursuit of the supposed cripple.

The birds that have hitherto been mentioned are either bur-
rowers into the earth, or adopters of burrows which have been
made and deserted by fossorial mammalia. Those which now
come before us are burrowers into wood, and either form their
tunnels with their own beaks, or adapt to their purposes the ex-
cavations made by other creatures, and the hollows formed by
natural decay.

The first in order of these birds are necessarily the Woodpeck-
ers, examples of which are found in most parts of the world.
They are easily distinguished from any other birds by the pecul-
iar construction of the beak, the feet, and the tail ; the beak ena-
bling them to chip away the bark and wood, the feet giving them
the power of clinging to the tree-trunk, and the tail helping to sup-
port them in the attitude which gives to their strokes the great-
est force. Their beaks are long, powerful, straight, and pointed ;
their feet are formed for grasping, and are set far back upon the
body ; and their tails are short and stiff, and act as props when
pressed against the rough bark.

From England, the Woodpeckers are fast disappearing, and ex-
cept in the few forests and woods that still remain, a Woodpecker
is now seldom seen in this country. The birds, however, possess
that remarkable instinct which tells them where they will be safe ;

THE WOODPECKEK.

89

Woodpecker.

and any one who possesses a sufficiency of trees surrounded by a
wall, and who will not permit a gun to be fired within those pre-
cincts, will not have to wait very long before his eyes are glad-
dened by the bright colors of the Woodpecker's plumage as it
darts from tree to tree, and his ears gratified by the rapid tattoo
of its beak upon the wood.

"We should probably have possessed many more specimens of
the Woodpecker, had it not been subjected to such persecution.
It was universally thought to be very hurtful to trees, and its re-
iterated blows were considered as so many direct injuries. If the
observer could quietly make his way to a tree on which the
Woodpecker was at work, he would find great flakes of bark ly-
ing on the ground, as marks of the bird's industry, and might be
led to suppose that, in separating them from the trunk, the bird
was inflicting a positive injury upon it. If, however, he should
examine the flakes of bark, he would find that they had already
been separated from the tree in the course of nature, and that they
were mere useless excrescences upon its surface. Under these
bark-flakes whole tribes of insects find a shelter, and it is in order
to obtain the insects that the Woodpecker removes the flakes.

90 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

As is well known, this bird makes its nest in a tunnel which it
hollows in the tree, and to a superficial observer might easily be
reckoned among the enemies of the forest. If it were to burrow
into sound timber, as is often supposed to be the case, it would
certainly rank among the deadliest foes of our trees ; for, in the
spots where it still resides, its burrows may be seen in plenty, per-
forating the trunks and branches of the finest and most pictur-
esque trees. But, in point of fact, none of the British Woodpeck-
ers are able to cut so deep a tunnel into sound and growing wood,
and are perforce obliged to choose timber which is already dead,
and which has begun to decay.

Sometimes the bird selects a spot where a branch has been
blown down, leaving a hollow in which the rain has lodged and
eaten its way deeply into the stem. In such places the wood is
so soft that it can be broken away with the fingers, or scraped out
with a stick ; and in many a noble tree, which seems to the eye
to be perfectly sound, the very heart-wood is being slowly dis-
solved by the action of water, which has gained access through
some unsuspected hole. Water, when thus admitted to the inte-
rior of a tree, fills its centre with decay ; and if a perforation be
made through the trunk, so as to let out the contained fluid, gal-
lon after gallon of dark brown water will gush forth, mixed with
fragments of decayed wood, and betray, by its volume and con-
sistency, the extent of the damage which it has occasioned.

Oftentimes a large fungus will start from a tree, and in some
mysterious manner will sap the life-power of the spot on which it
grows. When the fungus falls in the autumn, it leaves scarcely
a trace of its presence, the tree being apparently as healthy as be-
fore the advent of the parasite. But the whole character of the
wood has been changed by the strange power of the fungus, being
soft and cork-like to the touch. Although the eye of man can
not readily perceive the injury, the instinct of the Woodpecker
soon leads the bird to the spot, and it is in this dead, soft, and
spongy wood that the burrow is made. Mr. Waterton, who, I be-
lieve, was the first to point out this fact, has shown me many ex-
amples of the fungus and its ravages among the trees, several fine
ash-trees and sycamores having been reduced to mere stumps by
the silent operation of the vegetable parasite.

It is, by the way, a rather remarkable fact, that a tree which
has been penetrated by water can be relieved of its burden by
the hand of man. An auger, or long-shanked centre-bit, judi-

THE WOODPECKER. 91

ciously inserted, will draw off the water, and if the aperture
through which it gained admission be carefully trimmed and cov-
ered, so as to prevent any further lodgment of moisture, the bark
will roll over the orifice, and soon obliterate it. The same pro-
cess of self-repair will heal the smaller aperture made by the au-
ger. Sometimes, when a semi-burrowing bird, such as the tit-
mouse, enters a hollow thus formed, and builds its nest therein,
the bark grows over the entrance, and so buries the nest in the
hollow of the tree. Sawyers not unfrequently find various ob-
jects in the trunks of trees, which have been imbedded by the
curative powers of the tree.

Should, however, a fungus show itself, the tree is doomed.
Perhaps the parasite may fall in the autumn, and the tree may
show no symptoms of decay ; but at the first tempest that it may
have to encounter, the trunk snaps off at the spot where the fun-
gus has been, and the extent of the injury is at once disclosed.
As long as any portion of that tree retains life, it will continue to
throw out these destructive fungi, and even when a mere stump
is left in the ground, the fungi will push themselves out in pro-
fusion.

The pickaxe-like beak of the Woodpecker finds no difficulty in
making its way through the decayed wood, and thus the bird is
enabled to excavate its burrow without very much trouble. The
nest itself can scarcely be called by that name, being nothing more
than a collection of the smaller chips which have fallen to the ex-
tremity of the tunnel while the bird was engaged in the task of
excavating. The burrow of the Woodpecker is as unpleasantly
odorous as that of the kingfisher. The eggs are pure white.

In the British Museum may be seen samples of the burrows
made by this bird, a portion of the tree having been cut off, and
a section made, so as to show the shape, direction, and interior
aspect of the hole. The specimens were obtained by Mr. Gould,
the celebrated ornithologist, and the illustration was drawn from
them.

According to Wilson and Audubon, some of the Woodpeckers
of Xorth America are able to excavate tunnels in the sound and
still undecayed wood. They do not, however, select the hard
wood in preference to that which is decayed, but always give the
precedence to the latter. Still, they are often obliged to bore
through several inches of solid wood, in order to reach the de-
cayed portion in the centre.

92 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

The burrowing powers of the great Ivory -billed Woodpecker
are marvelous, its chisel-like beak having been known to chip
splinters from a mahogany table, and to cut a hole fifteen inches
in width through a lath-and-plaster partition. Even the small
Downy Woodpecker is able to bore its way through solid wood,
and to make a most ingenious nest, the burrow sloping for some
six or eight inches, and then being driven perpendicularly down
the tree. The bird takes care to make the sloping tunnel only
just large enough to admit the passage of its body ; but the per-
pendicular hole, in which it resides, is quite large and roomy, so
as to deserve the name of a chamber. When first made, the hole
through which the bird enters its nest is as truly circular as if
cut by a centre-bit; but it loses the sharpness of its outline after
it has been in use for any length of time. Both the male and fe-
male Woodpecker work at this task of excavation, laboring alter-
nately, relieving each other in regular rotation, and pecking con-
tinually until the burrow is finished, even though they should
occupy several days in completing their home. They are so in-
tent upon their labor, that -they work all day and far into the
evening, hammering away like carpenters at the bench.

The nest is not unfrequently stormed and seized by a usurp-
er, diminutive in size, but unconquerable in spirit. This is the
common house- wren, which is fond of building in holes and cran-
nies, and is by no means particular as to its domicile. Kind-
hearted persons are in the habit of nailing boxes to poles in their
gardens for the use of this little bird, which is sure to take im-
mediate possession, and to repay them for their benevolence by
ridding their plants of noxious insects. Empty cocoa-nuts,
gourds, earthen pots, and similar objects, are eagerly appropria-
ted by the wren ; and, in default of better premises, it will build
in old hats, or in the sleeves of coats that have been hanging un-
disturbed on their pegs.

The burrow of the Woodpecker is far too comfortable a dwell-
ing to be neglected by the wren, who allows the Woodpecker to
proceed with its labors until he thinks that the hole is large
enough for his purpose, and then assaults the unfortunate bur-
rowers, driving them off to seek another and a less disturbed lo-
cality. In one case, a pair of Woodpeckers began to make their
tunnel in an apple-tree, and were driven from the spot by the
house-wren. They then pitched upon a pear-tree, completed
their burrow, and had laid one egg, when they were again at-

THE WRY-NECK. 93

tacked by the fiery little bird, and obliged to abandon the locali-
ty altogether.

Safe as the habitation of the Woodpecker may seem, it is in
America exposed to many and strange dangers. One of the per-
ils which environ the burrows of this bird has already been men-
tioned, but a worse remains to be told. The blacksnake espies
the parent birds as they enter and leave their nest, presses its
sombre body against the tree, glides slowly up the trunk, and
enters the apartment of the Woodpecker. Eggs or young are
equally acceptable to the snake, which, finding itself in a com-
fortable and sheltered spot, coils itself round and abandons itself
to repose. " The eager schoolboy," writes Wilson, " after hazard-
ing his neck to reach the Woodpecker's hole, at the triumphant
moment when he thinks the nestlings his own, and strips his arm,
launching it down into the cavity, and grasping what he con-
ceives to be the callow young, starts with horror at the sight of a
hideous snake, and almost drops from his giddy pinnacle, retreat-
ing down the tree with terror and precipitation.

" Several adventures of this kind have come to my knowledge,
.and one of them that was attended with serious consequences,
where both snake and boy fell to the ground, and a broken thigh
and long confinement cured the adventurer completely of his am-
bition for robbing woodpeckers' nests." The unlucky bird-nester
might have saved himself a fall, had he been any thing of a nat-
uralist. The blacksnake which is mentioned in the anecdote
{Gorypliodon constrictor) is as harmless as the common snake of
England, though it is a fierce-looking reptile, and very irascible
of temper, darting with open mouth at the hand of any one who
annoys it, and making believe to bite. It is sometimes called the
racer snake, on account of its swiftness.

There are many birds which make use of holes in trees for the
deposition of their eggs, but which seldom, if ever, excavate the
burrow by their own exertions. One of the best known exam-
ples of these birds is the Wry-neck ( Yunx torquilla) or Emmet-
eater, a pretty though not a gorgeously-decorated creature. In
Wales it is known by the name of Gwas-y-gog, or Cuckoo's
knave, because it is said to follow the cuckoo as a servant follows
a master. It is a rather elegantly-shaped bird, with plumage
beautifully mottled with various shades of brown, and with a
kind of low crest on the head, movable at pleasure. This bird

94 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

selects for its home some hollow in a tree, sometimes taking the
deserted burrow of a woodpecker, when it is fortunate enough to
secure so convenient a residence. Any holes in trees, however,
are used by the Wry-neck ; and it is very fond of those hollowed
places where a branch has been broken away, and the interior of
the tree has in consequence begun to decay. In such cavities
the bird makes its nest, or rather, lays its eggs, for it is quite sat-
isfied with chips of decayed wood for a bed whereon to place its
numerous white eggs; and, like all those birds which build in
burrows, it cares little about an elaborate nest. It will, however,
take advantage of the nest which has been made by some other
bird, and has been known to deposit its eggs in the deserted hab-
itation of a red-start.

Though a timid bird, it is never slow in defense of its home
and its numerous young ; and though its slight beak can inflict
but very trifling damage upon ordinary foes, it often frightens
away the novice who has approached its domicile, by writhing its
neck, darting its head forward, ruffling its crest, and hissing like
an angry viper. On account of this habit, it is known in many
parts of England by the popular name of Snake-bird. The head ,
and neck of the bird have quite a formidable aspect as they thus
present themselves at the orifice of the burrow, and at a little dis-
tance the writhing neck and angry hiss give to the creature a
very sanguinary character.

Among the semi-burrowers we may rank the Starling (Stur-
nus vulgaris), as this bird invariably lays its eggs in a hollow of
some kind.

Its instinct teaches it to select spots wherein it can be hidden ;
and the deeper the burrow, and the narrower the entrance, the
better does the Starling seem to be pleased. In all kinds of
places the Starling makes its home, and its pale blue eggs may
be found wherever there is a hole that will contain them. Under
the eaves of houses the Starling contrives to creep, and finds
some retired spot where it can sit in security and tend its young.
Oftentimes when it resides in towns it displays so much ingenuity
in concealing the locality of its habitation, that the impatient cry
of the young birds affords the first indication of a nest. Fre-
quently it gets into pigeon-cotes, and associates quite amicably
with the rightful inmates. It has a great liking for the same
domicile as the jackdaw, and there is often a trial of skill between
the birds, each trying to gain the disputed nesting-place.

THE STARLING. 95

In towers, old trees, and similar places, the jackdaws endeavor
to supplant the owls, and the Starlings endeavor to extirpate the
jackdaws. On the ground under such places may be seen whole
heaps of sticks, dropped by the jackdaw while endeavoring to
make its nest, and showing how strangely circumscribed are the
reasoning powers of lower beings.

In many things the jackdaw is a wonderfully clever bird, dis-
playing such an amount of ingenuity in its actions, that its ra-
tional capacities are evidently very great. But, however clever
a bird may be, and however admirably it may adapt its actions
to surrounding circumstances, it is sure to break down suddenly
in an unexpected manner, and to fail in the easiest part of its
task. A jackdaw, for example, will go afield in search of sticks,
and will spend some time in selecting a branch that will serve its
purpose. It lifts, and drops, and turns, and weighs the branch,
displaying great acumen in its task, and occupying much time
in making a proper selection. When it has chosen a suitable
branch, it flies away to the spot it has chosen for its nest.

When taking up the branch, the jackdaw mostly carries it by
the middle, because it can be easily balanced when so held. But
the bird forgets that a branch held crosswise will not enter a
small aperture, and accordingly it finds itself checked when en-
deavoring to gain admission to its domicile. It flutters about in
great dismay, and tries with all its powers to force the branch
into the hole ; but it never thinks of the simple expedient of tak-
ing the branch by the end, and pushing it lengthwise through
the entrance; and after it has wearied ftself out in vain attempts,
it drops the branch and goes off for another. Beneath the many
nesting-places at Walton Hall may be seen a wonderful number
of sticks which have been thus dropped. Mr. Waterton lately
drew my attention to a rapidly-accumulating pile of dead branch-
es, which had been dropped by a jackdaw which was making its
nest in a small window in the stable front. In this favored place
the birds know that they will not be injured, and so they permit
their proceedings to be watched without exhibiting any shyness.

Old towers are very favorite haunts of the Starling, who builds
in close proximity to the owl and jackdaw, neither of the three
appearing to be disturbed by the presence of the others. In for-
est lands the Starling lays its eggs in old trees; and I have fre-
quently looked into a little hole high on the trunk, and seen the
eggs lying far below, out of the reach of any foe except the rat,

96 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

the weasel, and the British schoolboy, with his fertile invention
and ready limbs. Starlings which choose such situations are
strangely indifferent to observation, and are so noisy in all their
conversation, that they may be heard at a distance of several
hundred yards.

One or two other British birds must be mentioned, because
they lay their eggs in excavations either natural or artificial.
There is the elegant little Tree Creeper (Oerihia familiaris), so
well known for its delicate form, its slender and slightly-curved
beak, and the great agility with which it traverses the trunks of
trees. The nest of this bird is mostly placed in the hollow of
some decaying tree, and is of rather more ambitious a character
than is generally found with birds which lay their eggs in simi-
lar situations, being formed of moss, grass, and other soft vegeta-
ble substances, and lined with downy feathers. There are about
seven or eight eggs, which are small and of a light gray, varie-
gated ,with brownish dots.

The short-bodied, stout-beaked, strong-limbed Nut-hatch (Sit-
ta Europaza) is another example of the semi-burrowers, inasmuch
as it always chooses the hollow of a decaying tree for its nursery.
The general habits of this curious little bird are very well known,
and as they bear but very slightly on the principle of nesting,
there is no need to mention them in this place.

The cavity which the bird selects is usually one which has but
a very small entrance ; and it is said that when the orifice is too
large, the mother bird lessens it by kneading clay into the sides.
It has already been mentioned that the wry-neck defends its nest
by the simulation of offensive powers, though it is, in truth, a
very harmless bird, without the means to work an injury to an
enemy. The Nut-hatch defends its home with equal success, but
not by the same deception ; for whenever an enemy approaches
too closely to the nest, out clashes the bird in a state of wild ex-
citement, darts at the intruder, and pecks so fiercely with its pow-
erful beak, that it can drive away any ordinary foe. The bite
which the Nut-hatch can inflict is of no trifling force; for the
beak is strong enough to crack the shell of any nut, and when
employed on softer substances, is very apt to leave behind it a
tangible mark of its powers.

The nest of the Nut-hatch is hardly deserving of the name, for

THE' HOOPOE — COLE-TIT. 97

it merely consists of a few dried leaves, intermingled with little
bits of decaying wood.

Another of these semi-burrowing birds is the Hoopoe (Upiqxt
epops), one of the handsomest, though not the most brilliant, of
English birds. It is now very rare in this country, and, from all
appearances, is unlikely to become plentiful.

The Hoopoe makes its nest in some decaying tree, and often
prepares the hollow for its nest, though without intending to do
so. The food of the bird consists chiefly of insects, in various
stages of existence, most of which are dug by the long bill from
the decayed wood wherein they burrow. The larvae of many
beetles exist in such localities, and as they are mostly fat and
plump, they afford abundant nourishment to their destroyer. In
dislodging these larva? from their strong-holds, the Hoopoe not
only enlarges the hollow, but flings a quantity of small chips of
the spongy wood to the bottom of the cavity. The nest is made
of grass, feathers, and similar materials, and in many cases is
placed upon the layer of dried fragments.

The cavity in which the Hoopoe makes its nest is notable for
a most horrible stench, which, in countries where the bird is plen-
tiful, has become proverbial. The odor which emanates from the
kingfisher is most unsavory, but it does not possess the pungent
offensiveness which distinguishes that of the Hoopoe. The food
of the Hoopoe was long considered to be the cause of this unpleas-
ant peculiarity ; but as the bird lives entirely on insects, it is evi-
dent that some other cause must be sought. This is found in
certain glands near the tail, which secrete a substance that cer-
tainly must be useful to the bird in some mysterious way, just as
the odorous secretion of the musk-deer must be beneficial to the
animal ; but it possesses a singular^ offensive smell, and renders
the nest unendurable to human nostrils.
i

One or two of the Titmice are in the habit of making their
nests in similar situations. The Cole -TIT (Parus ater) will al-
ways take advantage of hollow places, though it is perfectly ca-
pable of building a nest among the dense underwood, and its
habitation may be mostly found in such localities. Young fir
plantations are favorite resorts of this bird, which finds a con-
genial resting-place among the low, horizontal branches.

In Mudie's "Feathered Tribes of the British Islands," there is

G

98 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

a brief and valuable summary of the bird-attracting powers of
the fir in its different stages of development. " In a fir planta-
tion, which is neither so low as to partake of the mushroom
growth of pines (especially Pinus sylvestris) upon too rich soils,
nor too inland and upland, there is a succession of birds. Lin-
nets and other brake -birds come to them as long as they are
mere bushes ; but the note of the cuckoo is not' heard in them.
After a while the Cole -tit becomes one of their most plentiful
inhabitants ; and by that time the cuckoo perches and sings on
the margin. A few years longer, and the ringdove moans in the
tops of the trees, which have then begun to open toward the sur-
face of the ground, and the covers for the brake-birds, and rest-
ing-places for all birds that build hideling and near the earth, are
gone. The cuckoo is then herfrd less frequently, unless there are
coppices of deciduous trees, or young pines come up in succes-
sion, in the vicinity. If the trees form a belt between rich
grounds, the magpie, though he loves the ' home' trees better,
will sometimes come, a little after the wood-pigeon ; and if the
plantation is deep and secluded, the jay will, perhaps, come a lit-
tle earlier. To all these succeeds the rook, which nestles in the
mature trees, with the long boles clear of branches, and he quits
them not until they are cut down or perish in the lapse of time."
In my note-book there is a sketch of a curious habitation occu-
pied by a Cole -tit. One of the large trees at Walton Hall had
been infested by the fungus, which has already been mentioned,
and had broken asunder some eighteen or twenty feet from the
ground. Several spots where these fungi had softened the wood
were excavated by Mr. Waterton, in order to make nesting-places
for various birds. In such spots the owls come and breed, and
so do the jackdaws, starlings, and other birds. To one of these
cavities Mr. Waterton fitted a door, composed of bark, and in the
upper part of the door he cut a little circular hole. The Cole-tit
soon found out the hollow, and discovering that the cavity would
make a good dwelling-place, and that the hole afforded an easy
mode of entrance and egress, she proceeded to make her nest
therein. When I saw the tree, the Cole -tit had not begun to
build, but the pieces of the old nest were there, and could easily
be seen by opening the door.

Another example of birds that make their nests within the hoi- ,
low of trees is the strangely -formed Toucan (Ramphaslos Ariel).

THE TOUCAN".

99

IS :_ a 1

There are many species of Toucan, all of which are easily re-
cognizable on account of the colors of the beak, for in all these
birds the enormous bill is decorated with strangely brilliant tints.
In one species the bill is rich orange and black, in another it is
scarlet and yellow, and in another it is green and red ; and in all
it is of enormous dimensions when compared with the body, and
is of great strength, though very light. Indeed, it is but a mere
shell of horny substance, in some places not thicker than writing-
paper, and colored by means of certain membranes in the interior,
which shine through the semi-transparent horn.

It has long been known that the Toucan nested in hollow trees,
and that it preferred those cavities which could only be entered
by a small aperture, the reason for this predilection being rather
absurd. It was supposed that the young of the Toucan were lia-
ble to the attacks of monkeys and large birds of prey, and that
whenever the parent bird was alarmed, all she had to do was to
poke her beak out of the aperture. The assailant, on seeing such
a huge bill, fancied that an animal of corresponding size must be
behind it, and therefore fled from so doughty a foe. One writer
puts this idea in a very quaint manner. The monkeys, he sa}\s,

100 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

are very noisome to young birds, and try to pull the unfledged
Toucans out of their nests. But the mother bird, when she sees
a monkey approaching, "so settles herself in her nest as to put
her bill out at the hole, and gives the monkeys such a welcome
therewith, that they presently pack away, and glad they escape
so."

According to some writers, the Toucan makes the burrow for
itself, using the huge beak as the tool wherewith it excavates its
work. I very much doubt, however, whether the bird has the
power of doing so, and think that, at the most, it only adapts and
•slightly alters the interior of the hollow in order to suit its own
purposes.

The Toucan is always a tree-loving bird, and does not wander
from the forests. It is a native of South America, and may gen-
erally be seen perched on the topmost boughs of the lofty mora-
tree, far beyond the reach of the shot-gun, and requiring a single
bullet, or the Indian's tiny poisoned arrow, to bring it from its
lofty elevation. It flies only by jerks, takes no long aerial jour-
neys, and its body always seems overweighted by the enormous
beak, which makes the head bow downward as the bird passes
through the air.

Perhaps the Swift (Cypselus apus) may take rank among the
semi-burrowing birds.

It always lays its long white eggs and makes its simple nest in
holes, and in some cases is able to form the tunnel in which it
breeds. "When it takes up its habitation far from human abodes,
it contents itself with crevices in rocks, hollow trees, and similar
localities. But, when it resides near the habitations of man, it at-
taches itself to him like the swallow and the martin. Slates and
tiles have, however, driven the Swift away from many a spot
wherein it was once plentiful, for it loves to penetrate into thatch
and therein to rear its hungry brood.

I can well remember the gradual ejection of the Swifts from a
country town on account of architectural improvements. For-
merly, when all the less pretending houses were covered with
thatch, the Swifts had their nests in every roof, and the " Jacky
Screamers," as the peasants called the birds, used to hunt for flies
in the streets, and boldly carry their prey to their young. The
houses were so low that a man could touch the eaves merely by
standing on a chair, and the habits of the birds were easily watch-

THE SWIFT. 101

ed. Their nests were frequently robbed, but the birds seemed to
care little for their bereavement, and when the eggs were re-
moved, would quietly lay another couple or so. I seldom found
more than three eggs in a nest.

By watching the Swift enter the tunnel leading to its nest, the
object of the oddly-formed feet is clearly ascertained. The legs
are very short but strongly made, and the toes are all furnished
with strong curved claws, and directed forward, so that the bird
is unable to clasp a branch with its feet. This structure enables
it to scramble through its tunnel with great rapidity, and it is
most interesting to see the Swift wheel round in the air with a
piercing cry, answered by a little complacent chirrup from its
mate within the nest, then dart into the hole as if shot from a
bow, closing its wings as it enters the tunnel, and then scramble
away with a quick and certain gait that never fails to excite ad-
miration.

The nest itself is a very simple affair. Any soft material seems
to suit the Swift, which brings hay, flakes of wool, bits of rag,
feathers, paper, string, and many other substances into the bur-
row. With these materials it makes a tolerably compact nest,
which is generally to be found at a distance of eighteen inches or
two feet from the entrance of the burrow. The holes which have
been made by rats are mostly used for this purpose, but if the
bird can not find a hollow already existing, it is quite capable of
forming one for itself, and by dint of pulling out the straws in
some weak spot, and pushing aside those which it can not ex-
tract, it soon makes a burrow large enough for its purpose.

102 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

CHAPTER III.

BURROWING REPTILES.

The Reptiles and their Hibernation. — The Land Tortoise and its Winter Dwell-
ing.—rThe Crocodiles. — Snakes. — The Yellow Snake of Jamaica. — Its gen-
eral Habits. — Its burrowing powers discovered. — Presumed Method of removing
the Earth.

The Reptiles are, as a body, not remarkable for the burrows
which they make.

Many of them bore their way into the ground, pass a few
months in a state of torpidity, and then push their way out again.
But the hole which they make in the earth is scarcely to be called
a home, inasmuch as the inhabitant merely enters it as a conven-
ient place wherein it may become torpid, and abandons it as soon
as the ordinary functions of the system are restored by the
warmth of the succeeding year.

The common Land Tortoise, for example (Testudo Grveca), is in
the habit of slowly digging a burrow with almost painful deliber-
ation, and then concealing itself below the surface of the earth
during the cold months of winter. Many Tortoises which have
lived in this country have been noticed to perform this act, and
I have lately seen a very good example of a burrow which had
been sunk amid some strawberry plants, and from which the in-
mate had just emerged.

Many other reptiles follow a similar course of action. The
crocodiles, for example, burrow themselves deeply in the mud,
and have more than once caused much alarm by awakening out
of their hibernation, and protruding their unwelcome snouts from
the mud close to the feet of the astonished spectator.

Snakes are accustomed, in like manner, to conceal themselves
during the period of their hibernation, resorting to hollow trees,
holes in the ground, and similar localities. Laborers, while en-
gaged in digging, especially in breaking down banks, frequently
unearth a goodly assemblage of snakes, all coiled up in an unsus-
pected cavity, which they must have entered through the desert-
ed burrow of a mouse or some other little animal. But that a
snake should be able to form its own burrow is a feature so re-
markable in herpetology, that a single accredited example must
not be passed without notice.

THE YELLOW SXAKE. 103

In his very interesting work on the natural history of Jamai-
ca, Mr. Gosse gives a curious account of a burrow made by the
Yellow Snake {Chilabothrus inornatus). This snake is very
plentiful in Jamaica, and is perfectly harmless to man, being des-
titute of poison-fangs, and not reaching a size which would render
it formidable to human beings. Its average length, when full-
grown, is eight feet. So far, indeed, from being obnoxious to
man, it may rank among his best friends, as being a determined
foe to rats, feeding largely upon them, and even entering houses
in search of its prey. Like the weasel, indeed, of our own coun-
try, which feeds mostly on mice and other destructive animals,
but occasionally makes a raid upon the fowl-house, the Yellow
Snake enters the farm-yard, and, instead of eating rats as it ought
to do, proceeds to the hen-roosts, and robs them. No less than
seven eggs have been found inside a single Yellow Snake, and
not a single egg was broken.

There is now (1863) a good specimen in the Beptile-room of
the Zoological Gardens of London.

One of these snakes was seen to crawl out of a hole in the side
of a yam-hill — i. e. a bank of mould prepared for the purpose of
growing yams — and when the earth was carefully removed, a
large chamber was discovered in the middle of the hill, nicely
lined with strips of half-dried plantain leaves, technically called
"trash," and containing six eggs, all fastened together. Just
outside the hole was a heap of loose mould, which had evidently
been thrown out when the excavation was made.

The Yellow Snake generally makes its home in the deep spaces
between the spurs of the fig or the buttresses of the cotton-tree,
and always lines it with " trash ;" but that the creature should be
able to excavate a burrow, and throw out the earth, seems almost
incredible. How did the snake remove the earth? As the rep-
tile was not seen in the act of excavating, this question could not
be precisely answered. Mr. Hill, however, to whom the subject
was referred, gave as his opinion that the snake loosened the
earth with its snout, and then worked the loose soil out of the
hollow by successive contractions of the segments of the abdomen,
which would thus " deliver" the soil after the manner of the Ar-
chimedean screw.

The eggs which were found in the chamber were removed, and
from one of them, which was opened, was taken a young snake,
about seven inches in length.

10-i HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

CHAPTER IV.

BURROWING INVERTEBRATES.

CRUSTACEA.

The Land Crabs and their Habits. — The Violet Land Crab. — Its Burrows, its
Combativeness, and its pedestrian Powers. — The Fighting Crab, why so called.
— The Racer Crab of Ceylon. — Its Burrows, and Mode of carrying oft" the Soil.
— The Robber Crab. — Its Form and general Habits. — Food of the Robber Crab.
— A soft Bed and well-stocked Larder. — The Chelura, and its Ravages among
Timber. — The Gribble and its Kin.

The reader will doubtless perceive that among such a multi-
tude of mammals and birds, each of which has some habitation, it
is impossible to give more than a selection of some of the more
remarkable examples. Although, therefore, there are many other
burrowing and semi-burrowing vertebrates, we must leave the
furred, feathered, and scaled tribes, and pass to those which oc-
cupy a lower place in the animal kingdom.

Among the Crustacea, there are very many species which form
burrows, and which conceal themselves under the sand or mud.
As, however, these creatures can not be said to form their habita-
tions, and the burrows are mostly obliterated by the return of the
water, they can scarcely be reckoned among those which make
" homes without hands." Some, however, there are which are as
fully entitled to be ranked among the true burrowers as any crea-
ture which we have mentioned, digging a regular burrow in the
earth, residing in their subterranean home, issuing forth to pro-
cure food, and retiring to it when alarmed. These are the crea-
tures so widely famous as Land Crabs (Gecarcinus), respecting
which so many wonderful tales are told, some true, some false,
and many exaggerated. The Land Crabs are found in various
parts of the world, and are notable for very similar habits. They
all burrow in the ground, run with very great speed, bite with
marvelous severity, and associate in considerable numbers. As
a general fact, they are considered as great dainties, and when
properly prepared, may be ranked among the standing luxuries
of their country.

As the Violet Land Crab of Jamaica (Gecarcinus ruricola), is
the most familiar of these creatures, we will take it as our first

THE LAND CKAB.

105

Fa s?\~

example of the burrowing Crustacea. This species, which is
sometimes called the Black Crab, and sometimes the Toulourou,
is exceedingly variable in its coloring, sometimes black, some-
times blue, and sometimes spotted. Whatever may be the color,
some tinge of blue is always to be found, so that the name of Vi-
olet Crab is the most appropriate of the three. Wherever the
Land Crab makes its home, the ground is filled with its burrows,
which are as thickly sown as those of a rabbit warren, and within
these habitations the crabs remain for the greater part of the day,
coming out at night to feed, but being always ready to scuttle
back at the least alarm.

Should, however, their retreat be intercepted, they are as ready
to fight as to run, and have a curious habit of seizing the foe with
one of the large claws, and then shaking off the limb at its junc-
tion with the body. As the muscles of the claw retain their ten-

106 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

sion for some little time after the connection with the body has
been severed, the enemy feels as much pain as if the crab were
still living ; and in the momentary confusion caused by the bite,
the crab takes the opportunity to conceal itself in some crevice.
As is the case with all crustaceans, it suffers but a temporary loss,
a new limb soon sprouting out, and taking the place of the dis-
carded member.

Although these warrens are seldom less than a mile from the
sea and are often made at a distance of two or even three miles,
the Land Crabs are obliged to travel to the shore for the purpose
of depositing their eggs, which are attached to the lower surface
of the abdomen, and are washed off by the surf. Large numbers
of the crabs may be seen upon their journey, which they prose-
cute so eagerly that they suffer no opposition to deter them from
their purpose. This custom has probably given rise to the greatly
exaggerated tales that have been narrated respecting these crabs,
and their custom of scaling perpendicular walls rather than turn
aside from the direct line of their route.

Twice in the year the Land Grabs become very fat and heavy,
and are then in the best condition for the table, their flesh being
peculiarly rich and loaded with fat. No one seems to be tired
of the Land Crab, and new-comers are apt to indulge in the novel
dainty to such an extent that their internal economy is sadly de-
ranged for some little time after the banquet.

About the month of August the Land Crab is obliged to cast
its shell, and for that purpose retires to the burrow, which has
been well stocked with grass, leaves, and similar materials. It
then closes the entrance, and remains hidden until it has thrown
off its old shell, and indued its new suit, which is then very soft,
being little but a membranous skin, traversed by multitudinous
% vessels. At this time the crab is thought to be in the best condi-
tion for the table. Calcareous matter is rapidly deposited upon
the membrane, and in process of time the hew shell becomes even
harder and stronger than that which has been rejected.

Many species of Land Crab are known, some of which possess
rather curious habits. The Fighting Crab {Oelasimus bellator),
is a good example of them. This species possesses one very large
and one very little claw, so that it looks as if a small man were
gifted with one arm of Hercules and the other of Tom Thumb.
As it runs along, with the wonderful speed which belongs to all
its kin, it holds the large claw in the air, and nods it continually,

THE RACER — THE ROBBER CRAB. 107

as beckoning to its pursuer. While so engaged it lias so absurd
an aspect that it has earned the generic title of Gelasimus, i. e.
laughable. As may be conjectured from its popular name, it is a
very combative species, holding its fighting claw across its body,
just as an accomplished boxer holds his arm, and biting with
equal quickness and force. It is also a burrower, and lives in
pairs, the female being within, and the male remaining on guard
at the mouth of the hole, his great fighting claw across the en-
trance.

Another Land Crab, which has earned the generic title of Ocy-
pode, or Swift-footed, and is popularly called the Racer, from its
astonishing speed, is a native of Ceylon, where it exists in such
numbers that it becomes a terrible nuisance to the residents.
Having no respect for the improvements of civilization, this crab
persists in burrowing into the sandy roads, and is so industrious
at its excavations that a staff of laborers is constantly employed
in filling up the burrows which these crabs have made. Were
not this precaution taken, there would be many accidents to
horsemen.

The mode of excavation employed by this creature is rather
peculiar. It "burrows in the dry soil, making deep excavations,
bringing up literally armfuls of sand, which, with a spring in the
air, and employing its other limbs, it jerks far from its burrows,
distributing it in a circle to the distance of many feet."

There is a very remarkable burrowing crustacean, called the
Robber Crab (Birgus latrd). This creature is of a strange, weird-
like shape, difficult to explain, but easily to be comprehended by
reference to the illustration. The reader can, however, form some
notion of its general form by removing a common hermit crab
from its residence, and laying it flat before him. The Robber
Crab, however, does not live in a shell, and its abdomen is conse-
quently defended by hard plates, instead of being soft and unpro-
tected like that of the hermit crab, to which it is closely allied.

The Robber Crab inhabits the islands of the Indian Ocean, and
is one of those Crustacea which are able to exist for a long time
without visiting the water, the gills being kept moist by means of
a reservoir on each side of the cephalothorax, in which the organs
of respiration lie. Only once in twenty-four hours does this re-
markable crab visit the ocean, and in all probability enters the
water for the purpose of receiving the supply which preserves
the gills in working order.

108 HOMES WITHOUT HAJSTDS.

It is a quick walker, though not gifted with such marvelous
speed as that which is the property of the racer and other land
crabs, and is rather awkward in its gait, impeded probably by the
enormous claws. While walking, it presents a curious aspect,
being lifted nearly a foot above the ground on its two central
pairs of legs, and if it be intercepted in its retreat, it brandishes
its formidable weapons, clattering them loudly, and always keep-
ing its face toward the enemy. Some writers aver that it is capa-
ble of climbing up the stems of the palm-trees, in order to get at
the fruit, but this assertion seems to require very strong corrobo-
ration before it can be believed.

The food of the Bobber Crab is of a very peculiar nature, con-
sisting chiefly, if not entirely, of the cocoa-nut. Most of my read-
ers have seen this enormous fruit as it appears when taken from
the tree, surrounded with a thick massy envelope of fibrous sub-
stance, which, when stripped from the nut itself, is employed for
many useful purposes. How the creature is to feed on the kernel
seems quite a mystery ; and, primd facie, for a crab to extract the
cocoa-nut from its envelope, to pierce the thick and stubborn shell,
and to feed upon the inclosed kernel, seems an utterly impossible
task. Indeed, had not the feat been watched by credible witness-
es, no one who was acquainted with the habits and powers of the
Crustacea would have credited such an assertion. Yet Mr. Dar-
win, Messrs. Tyerman and Bennett, and other observant men, have
watched the habits of the creature, and all agree in their accounts.

According to Mr. Darwin, the crab seizes upon the fallen cocoa-
nuts, and with its enormous pincers tears away the outer cover-
ing, reducing it to a mass of raveled threads. This substance is
carried by the crabs into their holes, for the purpose of forming a
bed whereon they can rest when they change their shells, and the
Malays are in the habit of robbing the burrows of these stored
fibres, which are ready picked for them, and which they use as
"junk," i. e. a rough kind of oakum, which is employed for calk-
ing the seams of vessels, making mats, and similar purposes.
When the crab has freed the nut from the husk, it introduces the
small end of a claw into one of the little holes which are found at
one end of the cocoa-nut, and by turning the claw backward and
forward, as if it were a brad-awl, the crab contrives to scoop out
the soft substance of the nut.

According to the observations of Messrs. Tyerman and Ben-
nett, the well-known missionaries to the South Seas, the Bobber

TUE ROBHEB CKAIi.

THE BOBBER CRAB. HI

Crab has another method of getting at the cocoa-nut, and displays
an instinctive knowledge of political economy which is very re-
markable.

" These animals live under the cocoa-nut-trees, and subsist upon
the fruit which they find upon the ground. With their powerful
• front claws they tear off the fibrous husk ; afterward, inserting
one of the sharp points of the same into a hole at the end of the
nut, they beat it with violence against a stone until it cracks ; the
shell is then easily pulled to pieces, and the precious fruit within
devoured at leisure. Sometimes, by widening the hole with one
of their round, gimlet claws, or enlarging the breach with their
forceps, they effect sufficient entrance to enable them to scoop out
the kernel, without the trouble of breaking the unwieldy nut.

"These crabs burrow iivthe earth, under the roots of the trees
that furnish them with provisions — prudently storing up in their
holes large quantities of cocoa-nuts, stripped of their husk, at those
times when the fruits are most abundant, against the recurring in-
tervals when they are scarce. We are informed that if the long
and delicate antennas of these robust creatures be touched with
oil, they instantly die. They are not found on any of these isl-
ands except the small coral ones, of which they are the principal
occupants. The people here account them delicious food."

The palm-climbing habits of the Bobber Crab are mentioned by
Mr. T. H. Hood, in his "Notes of a Cruise in H. M. S. Fawn, in the
Western Pacific." In the Samoan group of islands, the crab is
called " Ou-ou," and is a favorite article of food. While the ves-
sel remained off Samoa, Mr. Hood asked about these crabs ; and
though he did not see any of them performing so strange a feat,
he shows that there are very good grounds for believing the pos-
sibility of such an action.

" I inquired of them about the habits of the Ou-ou, or great
cocoa-nut-eating crab, common here, and found the reports pre-
viously received from the natives corroborated. Mr. Darwin'
mentions that, in the Seychelles and elsewhere, there is a spe-
cies which is in the habit of husking the nuts on the ground,
and then tapping one of the eyes with its great claw, in order to
reach the kernel. Its congener here ascends the cocoa-trees, and
having thrown the nuts down, husks them on the ground ; this
operation performed, again ascends with the nuts, which he
throws down, generally breaking them at the first attempt, but,
if not successful, repeating it till the object is attained.

112 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS. '

u Before leaving, an old Savage Island man at the mission
brought in three or four immense Ou-ous, which evinced in their
efforts to escape, bursting coils of cocoa-nut sinnet, a strength
quite sufficient to husk the toughest cocoa-nut. As to the meth-
od of obtaining the contents afterward, every native (both Sa-
moans and Niuans) confirms the account mentioned before. The
Niuans understand their habits best. The old man who brought
them to-day dug them out of the holes in which they re.main
many weeks torpid. The female differs from the male in having
three flippers, well furnished with strong borers, on the right side
of th*e sac."

When full grown, this crab is more than two feet in length,
and, as may be seen by the illustration, is stoutly made in pro-
portion to its length. The color of the creature is very pale
brown, with a decided tinge of yellow.

Passing by many other species of Crustacea which burrow in
the earth, or mud, or sand, we come to a very remarkable being,
which makes its habitation in solid wood. This is the Wood-
boring Shrimp (Chelura terebrans), one of the sessile -eyed Crus-
tacea, nearly related to the well-known sand-hopper, which is so
plentiful on our coasts.

Although very small, it is terribly destructive, and does no
small damage to wooden piles driven into the bed of the sea.
It is furnished with a peculiar rasping instrument, by means of
which it is enabled to scrape away the wood and form a little
burrow, in which it resides, and which supplies it with nourish-
ment as well as with a residence. The tunnels which it makes
are mostly driven in an oblique direction ; so that when a large
number of these creatures have been at work upon a piece of
timber, the effect of their united labors is to loosen a flake of va-
riable dimensions. As long as the weather is calm, the loosened
flake keeps its position ; but no sooner does a tempest arise, than
the flake is washed away, and a new surface is exposed to the ac-
tion of the Chelura.

When the Chelura is placed on dry land, it is able to leap
nearly as well as the sand -hopper, and performs the feat in a
similar manner.

This is not the only wood-boring crustacean with which our
coasts are pestered ; for the Gribble {Limnoria tenebrans) makes

THE GRIBBLE. 118

deeper tunnels than the preceding creature, though it is not so
rapidly destructive, owing to the direction of its burrows, which
are driven straight into the wood, and do not cause it to flake
off so quickly as is the case when the Chelura excavates it
Still, it works very great harm to the submerged timber, boring
to a depth of two inches, and nearly always tunneling in a
straight line, unless forced to deviate by a nail, a knot, or simi-
lar obstacle. The Gribble is a very tiny creature, hardly larger
than a grain of rice, and yet, by dint of swarming numbers, it is
able to consume the wooden piles on which certain piers and jet-
ties are supported ; and in the short space of three years these
destructive Crustacea have been known to eat away a thick fir
plank, and to reduce it to a mere honey-comb. Sometimes these
two wood-boring shrimps attack the same piece of wood, and, in
such cases, the mischief which they perpetrate is almost incredi-
ble, considering their small dimensions and the nature of the sub-
stance into which they bore. The common fresh-water shrimp,
so plentiful in our brooks and rivulets, is closely allied to the
Gribble, and will convey a very good idea of its appearance. In
some parts of our coasts the ravages of these animals are so de-
structive, that the substitution of iron or stone for wood has be-
come a necessity.

H

114 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

CHAPTER V.

BURROWING MOLLUSKS.

The Boring Snail of the Bois des Roches. — Opinions as to its Method of Burrow-
ing.— Shape of the Tunnels. — Solitary Habits of the Snail. — The Piddock, its
Habits and Appearance. — Structure of the Shell, and its probable Use. — Method
of Burrowing. — Use of the Piddock and other marine Burrowers. — The Balance of
Nature preserved. — The Wood-borer and its Habits. — The Date Shell. — Its
extraordinary Powers of Tunneling. — The Razor Shell. — Its Localities and
Mode of Life. — The Flask Shell and the Watering-pot Shell.— The Ship-
worm. — Its Appearance when Young and Adult. — Its curious Development. —
Its Ravages, and the best Method of checking them. — Its Value to Engineers.
— The Giant Teredo. — Form, Dimensions, and Structure of the Shell. — How
and where discovered.

Ill fitted as the Mollusks seem to be for the task of burrow-
ing, there are several species which are able not only to make
their way through soft mud, or into the sandy bed of the sea,
but to bore deep permanent tunnels into stone and wood. Even
the hard limestone and sound heart-of-oak timber can not defy
these indefatigable laborers, and, as the sailor or the dweller on
the coast knows full well, the rocks and the timber are often
found reduced to a mere honey-combed or spongy texture by the
innumerable burrows of these mollusks.

There is now before me a piece of very hard calcareous rock,
in which are bored several "deep holes, large enough to admit a
man's thumb, and remarkably smooth in the interior, the extrem-
ity being always rounded. Indeed, if a hole were made in a
large lump of putty by putting the thumb into it and turning it
until the sides of the hole became smooth, a very good imitation
of these miniature tunnels would be produced. This fragment
of stone was taken from a little wood in Picardy, called Le Bois
des Roches, on account of the rocky masses that protrude through
its soil, and was brought to England by Mr. H. J. B. Hancock,
who kindly presented it to me.

In the winter time, each of these holes is occupied by a speci-
men of the Helix saxicava, a small snail, closely resembling the
common banded snail of our hedges {Helix nemoralis), and it is
thought that the holes are excavated by the snail which inhabits

BURROWING MOLLUSKS. 115

them. Mr. Hancock, who has lately reopened in the columns of
the Field newspaper a controversy respecting these snails, which
was initiated in 1839, is of opinion that the snails really form the
hole, and that they burrow at the average rate of half an inch
per annum. The late Dean Buckland was of the same opinion.
Other naturalists, however, think that the holes were originally
excavated by pholades and other marine mollusks when the
rocks in question formed part of the ocean bed, and that the
snails merely inhabit the ready-formed holes. Mr. Pinkerton up-
holds this opinion, and states that at least three other species of
helix possess similar habits, the garden and the banded snail be-
ing among the number.

I have compared the burrows of the mollusk, which we will
call the Boring Snail, with those of the pholas and lithodomus,
both of which will be presently described, and find that there is
no resemblance in their forms, the shape and direction of the
holes being evidently caused by an animal of no great length
in proportion to its width. In my own specimen, every hole is
contracted at irregular intervals, forming a succession of round-
ed hollows. If we return to our lump of putty, we may form
the holes made by the thumb into a very good imitation of
those in which the Boring Snail lives. After the thumb has
been pushed into the putty and well twisted round, put in the
forefinger as far as the first joint and turn it round so as to
make a rounded hollow. Push the finger into the hole as far
as the second joint, and repeat the process. Now introduce the
whole of the finger, enlarge the extremity of the hole and round
it carefully, when there will be a very correct representation of
the tunnel formed in the rock.

Granting that the snail really does form the burrow, we have
still to discover the mode of working. Mr. Hancock says that
it must do so by means of an acid secretion proceeding from
the foot, which corrodes the rock and renders it easy to be
washed away. If the snail be removed and placed on litmus
paper, the ruddy violet color which at once tinges the paper
shows that there is acid of some kind, and if the paper be ap-
plied to the spot whence the snail has been taken, the same re-
sults follow. It is a remarkable fact that although the snail
leaves the usual slimy marks of its progress when crawling in
the summer time, no mucus is perceptible on the approach of
winter. "When the cold months come round, the Boring Snail

116 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

leaves its food and attaches itself to the rock, remaining in the
same spot until summer approaches. During this time, the por-
tion of rock to which it clings is worked away, and the stone
around the excavation is impregnated with a greasy matter which
soon dries up after the admission of the atmosphere. In a letter
to me, dated October 14th, 1863, Mr. Hancock remarks that the
rock at Monte Pellegrino in Sicily, which is crystalline and hard
as marble, is perforated by the same snail and in the same man-
ner. I may here mention that the stone of the Bois de Eoches
is that of which the column at Boulogne is built, which has re-
tained its sharpness of outline after exposure to wind and weath-
er for nearly sixty years. It is therefore called marbre Napoleon.
Mr. Hancock proceeds to say, "The following are a few of the pe-
culiarities which I have not mentioned in my letter in the Field:

" 1st. There is no instance at Bois de Roches of a tunnel being
formed on the horizontal surface of a rock, or on the sides facing
the south and southeast. They are always on the sides facing
the north or northeast.

"2d. The snail forms no epiphragm."

[The " epiphragm" is the barrier of hardened mucus with
which snails mostly close the entrance of their shells. There are
generally several in each shell.]

" 3d. Though during the summer it leaves behind it the usual
slimy mucus track ; in the winter, on returning to the rocks, no
track is perceptible except the corrosion of the rock by frequent
passage. This would seem to point to a system of secreting or-
gans for the acid, separate from that for the mucus.

"4th. Contrary to the usual habits of burrowing mollusks, who
generally have a bed of muddy matter between their shells and
the walls of their dwelling, the Helix saxicava keeps his tunnel
perfectly clean and neat.

" 5th. When the liquor alluded to as forming a fatty aureole
round the tunnel penetrates into pre-existing clefts in the rock, it
provokes the growth of a microscopic lichen, which also grows in
the tunnels in places after the liquor has evaporated.

"6th. The tunnels of the Helix saxicava are always irregular,
bearing no relation to the size or shape of the excavators, where-
as, in other excavating mollusks, the shape of the hole always
bears some relation to its occupant, and also the excavations are
alike for all animals of the same species."

There is an opinion that the gastric juice secreted in the stom-

BURROWING MOLLUSKS. 117

ach may be the means through, which the tunneling is conducted,
and that instead of being employed as food within the body it is
poured out upon the stone, so as to dissolve it, the softened sub-
stance being then removed by the foot. The Boring Snails do
not congregate together during hibernation, as is the well-known
custom of the garden species, but are always solitary. Sometimes
two or even three are found in the same burrow, but then they
are always at some distance from each other, and form supple-
mentary tunnels of their own. In my own specimen there is a
curious example of this peculiarity, where the snail has contrived
to bore completely through the barrier that separates it from a
neighboring tunnel, and has made a hole as large as the key-hole
of an ordinary writing-desk, and nearly of the same shape.

There are many marine-boring mollusks, some of which exca-
vate mud, others stone, and others timber. Of the mud-borers I
have little to say, few of them possessing points worthy of notice.
Perhaps the most noteworthy of these is the common Gaper
Shell (Mya armaria), so called because one end of the shell
gapes widely, in order to permit the passage of a long and stout
tube. In a specimen now before me, the tube is between three
and four inches in length, and at the base is large enough to ad-
mit the thumb. As, however, it gradually tapers to the extremi-
ty, the aperture at the other end is scarcely capable of receiving
the little finger. The walls of this tube are very thin and mem-
branous, and it is more or less retractile, carrying within it the
siphons through which the mollusk respires and takes nourish-
ment.

The Gaper Shell inhabits sandy and muddy shores, and to an
inexperienced eye is quite invisible. The shell itself, together
with the actual body of the mollusk, is hidden deeply in the mud,
seldom less than three inches, and generally eleven or twelve
inches from its surface. In this position it would be unable to
respire, were it not for the elongating tube, which projects through
the mud into the water, and just permits the extremities of the
siphons to show themselves, surrounded by the little radiating
tentacles which betray them to the experienced shell -hunter.
These tentacles or fringes are never seen in the dried specimens,
and can only be partially preserved by plunging the animal into
spirits of wine, glycerin, or other antiseptic liquid. The Gaper
Shell is esteemed as an article of food by man, beast and bird ;

118 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

for not only do human beings dig it up with tools, cook it, and
eat it, but the wolves and the arctic fox scratch it out of the mud
and eat it raw, and the various sea-birds peck it out with their
beaks, prize the shell open, and devour the contents.

The well-known Limpet is a kind of borer, though the holes
which it excavates are of very trifling depth, and are probably
made by the mechanical friction of the shell and foot against the
rock, without any intention on the part of the animal. Those
who have been accustomed to wander along the sea-shore must
have noticed that the Limpet shells always sink more or less into
the rocks on which they cling, and that in very old specimens
which are covered with alga? and barnacles, the shells are often
sunk fully half their depth into the solid rock. Grooves, too, of
various depths may be seen in the same rock, showing the slow
and tedious track which the Limpets have made over its surface,
until they finally settled down into some convenient situation.

Our next example of the burrowing mollusks is the well-known
Pholas, popularly called the Piddock {Pholas dactylus), the shells
of which are extremely plentiful upon our coasts, whether empty
and thrown upon the beach, or still adhering to the living animal
and deeply sunken in the rock. Almost in every part of our
shores the Piddock is to be found wherever there is rock, and its
dimensions and general appearance vary together with the locali-
ty. The chalk cliffs, which bound so many miles of our coast,
are thickly studded with the burrows of the Piddock, which takes
up its residence as high as the mid-water zone of the coast, and
in some places is so plentiful, that the hand can scarcely be laid
upon the rock without covering one or two of the holes.

The shell itself is extremely fragile, and of a rather soft texture,
and its outer surface is covered with ridges, that sweep in the
most graceful curves from the hinge to the edge, and bear some
resemblance to the projections upon a file. Yet practical natu-
ralists have proved that, by means of these tiny points and ridges,
the Pholas is able to work its way into the rock ; for not only
can a similar hole be bored by using the shell as a brad-awl is
used to pierce wood, but the creature has actually been watched
while in the act of insinuating itself into the chalk rock, a feat
which was performed by gently turning the shell from right to
left, and back asrain.

THE PIDDOCK.

119

The Pholas burrows to a considerable depth, and if a piece of
the rock be detached and broken to pieces by the hammer, it will
be seen to be completely riddled with the perforations. Chalk-
rock is mostly the richest in specimens, but even the hard lime-
stone formations are penetrable by the fragile shell of the Pholas.
It has been well remarked that the size of the Pholas and the

Pholas in Wood.
Lithodomus.

Razor .shell.

Pholas in Rock.

sharpness of its markings vary in inverse ratio to the hardness
of the rock in which it burrows. From the softest sea-beds are
taken the largest and most perfect shells, while those specimens
which are obtained from the hard limestone rocks are compara-
tively small, and the surfaces are rubbed nearly smooth. The
very worst examples, however, are those which are found in grit-
ty rocks, interspersed with pebbles. The shells that have bur-

120 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

rowed into such substances are dwarfed, abraded, and often mis-
shapen, and are valueless except to the physiologist.

We naturally ask ourselves why the Pholas should bury itself
in the rocks instead of passing its life in the open sea, like the
generality of bivalves. The creature does not feed upon the sub-
stances in which it forms its curious tunnel, and to all appearance
would obtain as much food without as within the burrow. One
obvious answer to this question is, that the creature buries itself
in the rock for the sake of safety, its shell being, as has already
been remarked, of a soft and fragile texture. This opinion is far-
ther corroborated by the fact that one of the British species, the
Paper Pholas {Pholas pajjyracea), has a peculiarly thin and deli-
cate shell, so as to earn for it the name by which it is popularly
known. Yet, although this may be a reason, it is not the reason ;
for there are many well-known shells which are far more fragile
than those of the Pholas, yet which need no such protection,
and instead of concealing themselves in any way, roam the ocean
freely.

In my own opinion, the burrowing instincts of this and many
other marine creatures of similar habits are- implanted in them for
other than mere individual purposes. Judging by the effects
which these animals must have produced upon the line of coast
throughout a succession of centuries, I can not but think that
they are, at all events partially, intended as instruments which
aid in producing those mighty changes that are continually tak-
ing place over the whole face of the globe.

We know that although the general proportions of sea and
land are maintained, a continual change is being worked in their
relative positions. Even within the memory of man, fields now
blooming with corn were once covered with the salt water, and
buildings that were once a mile from the shore are now in hourly
danger of falling into the sea. And I have very little doubt but
that the Pholas plays a very important part in these changes. If
the reader will examine any of our chalk-bound coasts, and will
walk from the foot of the existing cliff to the extreme of low-
water mark, he will see that the Pholas has every where left the
tokens of its industry. Even at the verge of low water, the spot
whereon he stands was once the base of the cliff which has now
receded so far from the waves, and continues to recede yearty.
And as he looks out to sea, and watches the breakers fling their
white foam over the sunken rocks, and notes the dark masses of

THE DATE SHELLS. 121

tangle lifting with the waves, he sees the remains of former cliffs,
that have long* since crumbled away piecemeal and fallen into the
sea.

It is true that the continual dashing of the billows will, in time,
destroy the hardest rocks, and that even a granite cliff can not
withstand the action of water. But the process of destruction —
if we may use such a word — is greatly accelerated by the multi-
tudinous holes bored by the Pholas and other burrowers, and the
rock is rapidly undermined by the joint action of the mollusks
and the waves. The upper portion of the cliff is thus left with-
out support, and when a few heavy rains have loosened the earth,
down comes a mixed mass of rock, soil, and herbage, and a fresh
face is thus made to the cliff. The loose earth is soon washed
away by the waves, the submerged portion of the fallen rock is
eagerly seized upon by the burrowers, and in process of time the
whole mass crumbles away, is broken up by the storms, and the
fragments are gradually rubbed to atoms by the action of the
waves. Thus it is that the cliffs recede on one side, while the
soil advances on another, and so the whole face of the world is
gradually changed.

Perhaps the Date Shells are even more powerful as burrow-
ers than the mollusks which have just been mentioned. One spe-
cies, the Fork-tailed Date Shell {Lithodomus caadigera), is able to
bore into substances which the pholas can not penetrate. It is
truly a wonderful little shell. Some of the hardest stones and
stoutest shells are found pierced by hundreds of these curious be-
ings, which seem to have one prevailing instinct, namely, to bore
their way through every thing. Onward, ever onward, seems to
be the law of their existence, and most thoroughly do they cany
it out. They care little for obstacles, and if one of their own
kind happens to cross their path, they quietly proceed with their
work, and drive their tunnel completely through the body of their
companion.

The precise method employed in excavation is at present un-
known, for the shape of the shell, and the exactitude with which
it fits the burrow, prove that the mollusk does not form its tunnel
by means of the protuberances on the surface of the shell, and no
other method of boring has at present been discovered.

There is another notable burrower among the bivalve marine

122 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

shells, which is remarkable for the depth to which it bores, and
the hard nature of the substances through which it "makes its way.
This is the shell called Saxicava rugosa ; one of the most variable
of the mollusks, so variable indeed that no less than fifteen differ-
ent names have been given to it, each being supposed to be a
separate species. Not only species, but even genera have been
formed from the varieties of this curious shell. It is a flattish bi-
valve, of no very great size, symmetrical in shape when young,
but oblong when old.

This creature burrows as rapidly as the species which has just
been described, and the process by which the feat is accomplished
is quite as enigmatical. Several conchologists have expressed an
opinion that the animal must secrete some liquid solvent, which
softens the rock, and permits the shell to pass. But, although it
is possible for the boring snail to excavate by such means, the
Saxicava can hardly do so. For the boring snail is a terrestrial
species, and would be able to employ a solvent without interrup-
tion ; but as the Saxicava works below the surface of the sea, any
solvent which it could employ would be either washed away, or
so diluted by the water that it would have no effect upon the
stone.

Still, that the creature must employ some means not yet known
to naturalists is evident from the shape of the hole, and the com-
parative hardness of the shell and the substances in which it is
imbedded. The shell is of ordinary hardness, while the rock in
which it is found is often of adamantine density. Sometimes it
bores into corals, frequently into limestone, and often into shells,
which it penetrates as deeply as the date shell. On every rocky
shore which the Saxicava inhabits its burrows may be found, no
matter what may be the hardness or composition of the stone.
The clay iron-stone which is found about Harwich, and is popu-
larly called cement-stone, is filled with the burrows of the Saxi-
cava. Its tunnels are found in the Kentish rag, while even the
well-known Portland stone, of which the Plymouth breakwater
is constructed, is often honey-combed by the multitudes of these
bivalves that inhabit it. Some of the enormous stones which
were employed in building the breakwater are now much wasted
by the holes made in them by the Saxicava.

As is the case with the burrows of the date shell, those of the
Saxicava do not run parallel with each other, but are driven into
the stone at any angle. In consequence of this custom, it is not

THE RAZOR SHELL. 123

of unfrequent occurrence that one of the creatures hits upon the
burrow of another, and if it does so, it will not, and in fact can
not, alter the direction of its tunnel. Neither is it able to wait
until the other shell has burrowed farther, but eats its way silent-
ly and unrelentingly along, cutting through the shell and body
of its luckless companion, and thus bringing on it a violent death,
which its rocky home seems especially intended to avert. The
hole is on the average about five or six inches in depth, and the
animal does not lie free in its burrow, but attaches itself to the
side by means of a byssus or cable, like that of the mussel, save
that it is smaller, because the strain upon it is not so great as
when the shell is anchored in the open sea. This shell has a very
wide range of locality, and is sometimes found at a very great
depth, specimens having been procured at a depth of nearly 900
feet. It attains its largest dimensions in the colder seas.

Another member of this family {Xylophaga dorsalis) burrows,
as its name implies, into wood and not into stone. It is a small
species, and of a very globular form, and never burrows to any
great depth, an inch being the ordinary length of its tunnel. The
shells of this creature are often found in floating wood, or in the
sea-covered portions of wooden piles, and it is a notable fact that
the burrows are always made across the grain of the timber in
which it lives.

Those who are fond of wandering on the sea-shore, will often
have experienced tangible proofs of the existence of another bur-
rowing mollusk, the Eazor Shell (Solen ensis).

In some parts of our coast it is impossible to walk on the mixed
rock and sand, when the tide has receded, without noticing innu-
merable jets of water, which start from the ground without any
perceptible cause, leap for a foot or so in the air, and then disap-
pear. On watching one of these miniature fountains, and looking
at the exact spot whence' it proceeds, two little round holes are
generally seen in the sand, so close to each other as to resemble a
key-hole, and large enough to receive an ordinary goose-quill. If
the finger be placed on the spot, or even if the foot descends heav-
ily on the ground, the curious object vanishes far out of the reach
of a probing finger. The jets are thrown up by the Solen, and
the two little holes are the open extremities of the siphon, that
wonderful instrument through which the creature obtains its
nourishment.

12-i HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

If a Kazor Shell should be required for any ordinary purpose,
such as baiting fishing-hooks, it can easily be procured by push-
ing into the hole an iron rod turned up at the end, and twisting
the Solen out of its burrow. If, however, a perfect specimen of
the animal or shell be required for scientific purposes, it can be
obtained by the simple process of dropping a spoonful of salt
down the hole. The Solen has a strange hatred of salt, and as
soon as the obnoxious substance is felt, up comes the Razor Shell
in a hurry, thrusting itself out of the hole, and enabling the opera-
tor to seize it before it can again withdraw to its shelter.

The curious group of mollusks called Gastrochasnidas deserve
a passing notice. All the species of this family are burrowers,
and some of them are capable of making their way through sub-
stances of considerable hardness. A common British species, the
Flask Shell (Gastrochcena modiolina), is notable for its habit of
burrowing through various shells, those of the oyster being often
perforated and fixed to the creature by some natural cement. In
such cases, the animal constructs a flask-shaped case from any
loose materials that are within reach, and has by this means
earned its specific name of modiolina.

In two remarkable genera the shell is very small, and is ce-
mented to the base of a long shelly tube, through which the si-
phon runs. The Clavagella is remarkable for the successive frills
that decorate the tube ; from three to six of these curious appen-
dages being seen in various specimens. These frills are formed
by the orifice of the siphon when the tube is elongated. It is a
remarkable fact, that the left valve of the shell is always cement-
ed to the side of the burrow, so that the animal possesses no loco-
motive power, and in all cases the shell is very small, and some-
times scarcely visible.

The Watering-pot Shell (Aspergilhim) is well known to
conchologists. In this creature the shell is exceedingly small,
and so deeply sunk into the tube that only the umbo of each
valve is visible. The base of the tube is expanded into a round-
ed and perforated disk, which bears a remarkable resemblance to
the " rose" of a watering-pot, and its opposite extremity is mostly
decorated with frills, from one to eight in number.

The reader will remember that the wood-boring pholas always
makes its burrow across the grain of the timber which it is com-

THE SHIP-WORM.

125

missioned to destroy. The Ship-worm {Teredo navalis), on the
contrary, always burrows ivith the grain, and even makes a trans-
verse tunnel, unless turned from its course by some obstacle, such
as a nail, or the burrow of another Teredo.

At first sight, few would perceive that the Ship- worm belongs
to the same class as the oyster and the snail, for it is long, slender,
and worm-like in shape, from six to eight lines in diameter, and
nearly a foot in length. One end is rather larger than the shaft,
if we may use the term, and is furnished with a pair of curved and
very narrow shell-valves, while the other is divided into a forked
apparatus containing the siphon. The color is grayish-white.

Such is the aspect of the Ship-worm when adult, but in its early
stages of existence it possesses a totally different form. When it
first issues from the sheltering mantle of its parent, it is a little,
round, lively object, covered with cilia, like a very minute hedge-
hog, and, by the continual movement of these appendages, passing
rapidly through the water. It does not, however, retain this form
for more than six-and-thirty hours, but undergoes a farther pro-
cess of development, and is then furnished with a distinct appara-
tus for swimming and crawling. It also possesses rudimentary
eyes, and in that portion of the body which may be considered
the head there are organs of hearing resembling those of certain
mollusks. When it has passed its full time in this stage of devel-
opment, it fixes upon some favorable locality, and then undergoes
its last change, which transforms it into the worm-like mollusk
with which naturalists are so familiar.

Ship-worm.

126 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

The ravages committed by this creature are almost incredible.
Wood of every description is devoured by the Ship-worm, whose
tunnels are frequently placed so closely together that the parti-
tion between them is not thicker than the paper on which this
account is printed. As the Teredo bores, it lines the tunnel with
a thin shell of calcareous matter, thus presenting a remarkable
resemblance to the habits of the white ant. When the Teredos
have taken entire possession of a piece of timber, they destroy it
so completely that, if the shelly lining were removed from the
wood, and each weighed separately, the mineral substance would
equal the vegetable in weight.

The Ship-worm has been the cause of numerous wrecks, for it
silently and unsuspectedly reduces the plankings and timbers to
such a state of fragility that, when struck by the side of a vessel,
or even by an ordinary boat, large fragments will be broken off.
I have now before me two specimens of " worm-eaten" timber,
one of which is so honey-combed by this destructive mollusk,
that a rough grasp of the hand would easily crush it. Yet this
fragment formed part of a pier on which might have depended a
hundred lives, and which was so stealthily sapped by the subma-
rine miners, that its unsound state was only discovered by an ac-
cident.

The copper sheathing, with which the bottoms of ships are cov-
ered, is placed upon them for the express purpose of baffling the
Ship-worm, and, though so expensive a process, is cheaper than
permitting the destructive creature to work its own will on the
vessel. It is possible, however, that an equally effectual, and very
much cheaper method of protecting ships and submerged timber
may soon be brought into active operation. M. de Quatrefages
has discovered that mercurial salts of any kind are instantaneous-
ly fatal to the Ship-worm, and that, by their use, not only the ex-
isting animals may be killed, but their eggs destroyed also. A
vessel that has been attacked by these pests may be rid of them
by throwing a few pounds of corrosive sublimate into the dock
where she lies, and it would not be very difficult to keep a special
dock for the purpose.

The most effectual method, however, of checking the ravages
of the Ship-worm is, by saturating the timber with corrosive sub-
limate ; a process which is effected by exposing the timber for a
long period of time, so as to allow the sap to escape, and then by
forcing a solution of the metallic poison into the minute inter-

THE GIANT TEREDO. 127

stices of the wood. This is done in a curiously simple manner,
namely, by laying the logs of timber on the ground, introducing
a tube into one end, carrying the tube to a height of forty or fifty
feet, and then connecting it with a tank filled with the solution.
It is, of course, necessary that the timber, should be thoroughly
seasoned before it is thus treated. M. de Quatrefages suggests
that the prepared wood might be sawn into thin planks, which
could then be used in the same manner as the copper sheathing
now in use.

Another species of the same genus, Teredo corniformis, is re-
markable for the locality in which it is found. This curious mol-
lusk burrows into the husks of cocoa-nuts and other thick woody
fruits which may be found floating in the tropical seas. In con-
sequence of the locality which it selects for its habitation, it can
not proceed in one direction for any great distance, and is obliged
to make its burrows in a crooked form, which has earned for the
creature the specific title of corniformis, or horn-shaped. Fossil
woods are often found perforated with these burrows.

Destructive as it may be, the Ship-worm will ever be an ob-
ject of interest to Englishmen, inasmuch as its shell-lined bur-
row gave to Sir I. Brunei the idea which was afterward so effi-
ciently carried out in the Thames Tunnel. And though, from
the alteration of surrounding circumstances, that wonderful mon-
ument of engineering skill has not been so practically useful as
was anticipated, it has proved of incalculable value as pioneer to
the numerous railway tunnels of this and other countries.

The largest species of this curious genus is the Giant Teredo
(Teredo gigantea), which produces a shell more than five feet in
length and three inches in diameter. The substance of the shell
is of very great strength, being about half an inch in thickness,
radiated in structure, and so hard that when the first specimen
was brought to England many naturalists took it for a hollow
stalactite.

This creature is a burrower into mud, and was discovered in
a very curious manner. In the year 1797, a violent shock of
earthquake took place in Sumatra, and caused great upheavals
of earth and corresponding floods of water. When the sea re-
ceded from one of the bays, certain unknown objects were seen
protruding from its muddy bed, and were pulled out with tolera-
ble ease. They projected about eight or ten inches from the
mud, and as the projecting portions were beset by serpuhe, bi-

128 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

valves, and other marine parasites, it was evident that they were
not forced out of the mud by the shock, but had been in that po-
sition for a considerable time. All, however, were damaged, one
or both ends being broken off. Their color was pure white on
the exterior, and yellowish within. None of them were perfectly
straight, and the greater number more or less contorted.

CHAPTER VI

BURROWING SPIDEES.

The Scorpion and its Habits. — The Burrow of the Scorpion. — How detected. —
Suicide among the Scorpions. — Spiders and their Burrows. — The Atypus. — Ma-
dame Merian and her Book of the Bird Spider. — Mr. Bates's Discoveries. — Hair
of the Bird Spider. — The Tarantula. — Its Ferocity and Courage. — The Trap-
door Spider. — Its Tunnel and the Lining thereof. — Its Appearance under the
Microscope. — The " Trap-door" itself, and its Structure. — Curious Example of
Instinct. — Activity of the Spider. — Specimen in the British Museum. — Strength
and Obstinacy of the Trap-door Spider. — An Australian Trap-door Spider.

Among the burrowers belonging to this order may be reck-
oned the well-known Scorpion, of which there are several spe-
cies, resembling each other in their general appearance, their
structure, and their habits.

Scorpions are found in all the warmer portions of the globe,
and under the tropics they may be said to swarm. They are,
as a general rule, intolerant of light, creeping by day into every
cranny that can shelter them from the unwelcome sunbeams, and
often causing very great annoyance by this custom. Old travel-
ers, who have learned by experience the habits of these creatures,
do not retire to rest before they have carefully examined the bed
and surrounding furniture, especially taking up the pillow, and
seeing that no enemy has lodged within the folds of the bedding.
The left hand is generally employed in lifting the clothes, while
the right is armed with a boot-jack, or stout shoe, or some other
convenient weapon, with which the Scorpion may be immolated
to the just wrath of its discoverer, before it can run off and hide
itself afresh. Shoes, boots, and gloves are also favorite resorts of
the Scorpion, which has caused many an inexperienced traveler
to buy future caution at rather a dear rate.

Scorpions may be found every where, under every stone, and
in every crevice ; and it not unfrequently happens that when a

THE SCORPION. 129

pedestrian is passing over a sandy bank, and happens to break
away a portion of it with his feet, a great bilack scorpion comes
tumbling down, rolling over and over among the sandy avalanche,
disengaging itself with an angry snap of its claws and a savage
whisk of its tail, and phowing fight as if it expected immediate
attack from some present enemy. In such cases, the Scorpion
has been a true burrower, excavating a temporary dwelling in
the sandy soil, and living therein during the day.

The burrows of the Scorpion can always be detected by the pe-
culiar shape of the entrance, which is of a semilunar form, exact-
ly fitting the outline of the animal which digs it. The shape of
the aperture is not unlike that of the hole which is cut in the
seats of wooden stools for the purpose of introducing the hand
when they are lifted. Wherever the soil is suitable for their pur-
pose, the Scorpions take every advantage of it, so that a great
number of these venomous creatures may be found in a compara-
tively small space of ground. Captain Pasley, E. A., tells me that,
while in India, he has often destroyed, in the space of an hour or
so, more than forty Scorpions, which had dug their sandy bur-
rows in his garden.

The semilunar shape of the entrance is an infallible indication
of the inhabitant, and in order to find out whether the Scorpion
is at home, a jug full of water is poured into the burrow. Scor-
pions detest water, and when they feel the stream pouring upon
them, they issue from their holes in high dudgeon, their pincers
preceding them and snapping wildly at the enemy. A fork or
spade is then driven under the Scorpion, and its retreat being
thus cut off, it is easily killed.

The same officer also mentioned, that he had repeatedly tried
.the experiment of surrounding the Scorpion with a ring of fire,
and that it had invariably stung itself to death. The fiery circle
was about fifteen inches in diameter, and composed of smoulder-
ing ashes. In every instance the Scorpion ran about for some
minutes, trying to escape, and then deliberately bent its tail over
its back, inserted the point of its sting between two of the seg-
ments of the body and speedily died. This experiment was re-
peated seven or eight times, and always with the same results, so
that a farther repetition would have been but a useless cruelty.
The heat given out by the ashes was very trifling, and not equal
to that which is caused by the noontide sun, a temperature which
the Scorpion certainly does not like, but which it can endure

I

130 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

without suffering much inconvenience. Generally, the Scorpion
was dead in a few minutes after the wound was inflicted.

Many of the true spiders are among the burrowers, and, even
in our own country, it is possible to see a sandy bank studded
with their silk-lined tunnels.

There is such a bank that skirts a fir -wood near my house,
the material being the loosest possible sandstone, scarcely hard
enough in any place to resist a pinch between the fingers and
thumb. About an inch or two above the soil, this sandstone is
quite excavated by the spiders, and as the sandy sides of their
tunnels would fall in were they not supported in some manner,
every tunnel accordingly is lined by a coating of tough web-
bing, very strong, very elastic, very porous, and yet not suffering
one particle of sand to pass through its interstices. From the
opening of each burrow a web is spread, looking very much like
a casting-net, with a hole through its middle. From this, again,
radiate a number of separate threads, which extend to a consid-
erable distance from the entrance.

At the very bottom of its silken tunnel the living architect
lies concealed, its sensitive feet resting on the web, so that it is
enabled to perceive the approach of the smallest insect that cross-
es the spot which it has so elaborately fortified. It is curious to
watch the various insects that are caught by different species of
spiders. The common garden spider (Epeira diadema) enjoys the
greatest variety of diet, and the water spider, of which we shall
see something in a future page, is also capable of varying its food
to a considerable extent The Burrowing Spiders, however, of
which there are several species, are much restricted in their diet,
the chief food that is found in their webs consisting of small bee-
tles and midges. These spiders belong to the family Agelenidas.

One of the best, if not indeed the very best, examples of the
British burrowing Arachnida is the remarkable species Atypus
i&ulzeri, a creature which is so rare as to have received no English
name. It is a small species, not half an inch in length, but it is a
curiously-constructed being; and were it made on a larger scale,
would be a really formidable species. Its jaws are long, sharply
pointed, and remarkably stout at their bases — so stout, indeed,
that, but "for a remarkable adaptation of structure, it would not
be able to see any thing in front.

SPIDERS. 131

None of these spiders have a separate head, that part of the
body and the thorax being fused together, and forming what is
called by naturalists a " cephalothorax," i. e. a head-thorax. The
same structure may be observed in the scorpion, and also in the
common lobster, the shrimp, and other Crustacea. The eyes, as
in all spiders, are rather close together, and are placed upon the
upper part of this cephalothorax ; but so large are the bases of
the jaws, that they rise far above the level of the cephalothorax:
and if the eyes were placed in the ordinary manner, would act
like the "blind" that is hung over the eyes of a bad-tempered
bull. In order, however, to enable the spider to see objects in its
front, a sort of little turret rises from the cephalothorax, and on
its summit are placed the eyes. Naturalists familiarly call this
projection the " watch-tower."

This spider inhabits moist situations, and burrows into the
banks, the direction of the burrow being at first horizontal and
then sloping downward. It is lined with a remarkably Gompact
silken tube, beautifully white, and about half an inch in diame-
ter. The upper part of the tube is rather larger than the lower,
and projects from the earth, falling forward so as to form a flap,
which protects the mouth of the burrow. Specimens of this re-
markable spider have been obtained from several parts of En-
gland.

Nearly one hundred and fifty years ago, Sibilla Merian pub-
lished her famous account of the insects of Surinam, wherein are
several statements that were first received without scruple, after-
ward doubted, and finally disbelieved. The most important of
these controverted statements was that in which she mentioned
that the gigantic spiders of Surinam caught the humming-birds,
killed them, and sucked all the juices out of their bodies. This
statement appeared to be of so wild a character, that naturalists
might well be pardoned for refusing credit to it, especially as
Madame Merian did not offer herself as an eye-witness, but mere-
ly related the story on the authority of the natives.

There is certainly nothing in the comparative sizes of the two
creatures which would render such a feat impossible, for the spi-
der has a body nearly as large as that of a sparrow, and its ex-
panse of limb is seven or eight inches, while the humming-bird is
scarcely bigger than the common humble-bee of our gardens and
fields. Still it did seem so strange that a spider should attack a

132 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

bird, that, failing a credible eye-witness, the story was not be-
lieved. That want, however, has been recently supplied, for Mr.
H. W. Bates, who spent eleven years upon the banks of the Ama-
zon Eiver, has been an eye-witness to the murder of a small bird
by a great spider, and the question is now finally set at rest.

"In the course of our walk, I chanced to verify a fact relating
to the habit of a large hairy spider, belonging to the genus My-
gale, in a manner worth recording. The species was M. avicula-
ria, or one very closely allied to it; the individual was nearly
two inches in length of body, but the legs expanded seven inches,
and the entire body and hair were covered with coarse gray and
reddish hairs. I was attracted by a movement of the monster on
a tree-trunk; it was close beneath a deep crevice in the tree,
across which was stretched a dense white web. The lower part
of the web was broken, and two small birds, finches, were entan-
gled in the pieces. They were about the size of the English sis-
kin, and I judged the two to be male and female. One of them
was quite dead, and the other lay under the body of the spider,
not quite dead, and was smeared with the filthy liquor or saliva
exuded by the monster. I drove away the spider, and took the
birds, but the second one soon died. ... I found the circum-
stance to be quite a novelty to the residents hereabout."

One of these spiders, kindly presented to me by Mr. Bates, is
now before me, and after examining the terrible fangs as they lie
folded under the head, and the enormous power of the long,
clinging legs, I believe that a small bird would stand a very poor
chance of life if once entangled in the fatal clutch. There are sev-
eral species of Mygale, some of which are great burrowers, mak-
ing holes of considerable depth. One species, Mygale Blondii,
which is easily known by the yellow stripes which run down its
limbs, is an admirable burrower, digging tunnels of two feet in
depth, and rather wide, and lining them with a silken coating, so
as to prevent the earth from falling in. In the evening, the spi-
der may be seen at the mouth of its hole, evidently watching sur-
rounding events, but as soon as it perceives an approaching foot-
step, it pops back into the dark recesses of the tunnel, and will
not make its appearance for some time afterward. Others live
under stones ; and others, again, make their dens in the thatched
roofs of houses. The natives do not seem to entertain any feel-
ings of abhorrence toward these creatures, which to a European
mind are so repulsive ; for Mr. Bates once saw a group of children

SPIDERS. 133

amusing themselves with a gigantic Mygale, which they had se-
cured by tying a string round its waist, and were leading about
as if it had been a dog.

While living, the Mygale sheds its hairs very easily ; and as
these hairs penetrate the skin and are of a painfully irritant char-
acter, like those of the palmer-worm and other British caterpil-
lars, the incautious naturalist is apt to buy his experience of the
Mygale rather dearly. The natives call these creatures "Aran-
has carangueijeiras," or Crab Spiders, because they are so strong
and so large.

Several large spiders that live mostly upon the ground are
confounded together under the general name of Tarantula. There
is scarcely a part of the world where is not found some great Ly-
cosa, or Wolf Spider, that is popularly called by the dreaded name
of Tarantula, and feared lest its bite should produce the disease
which was once so rife through Europe, and called Tarantismus.
These are all more or less burrowers, and line their tunnels with
a silken coating, so as to prevent the earth from falling in upon
them. Some of them hunt about after prey, while others sit at
the entrance of the den and wait for the approach of any passing
insect, which they may seize and devour at their leisure in the
safe retreat of the neighboring burrow. In this tunnel their
young are hatched, and, as soon as they can struggle themselves
free from the egg, they clamber upon their mother's back, and
there cling in heavy clusters, often hiding her shape by their
numbers.

One species of spider that goes by the name of Tarantula is
resident in Siberia, and .hides in holes in the ground. The peas-
antry are greatly afraid of it, fancying that it will bite them, and
that its bite will cause great injury. For their terrors there are
really some grounds, inasmuch as the spider is a savage kind of
creature ; and if a knife be pushed into its den, it will rush out
in a fury, and try to bite the blade. In all probability, however,
it is not very venomous, for it is actually eaten by sheep as they
graze.

Of all the burrowing spiders, however, none is so admirable an
excavator as the Trap-door Spider of Jamaica, and none dis-
plays so much ingenuity in the arrangement of its burrow. Speci-
mens of both the tunnel and the spider are now before me, and

134 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

it is impossible to inspect them without admiration. When re-
moved from the earth which surrounded it, the silken tube is
seen to be double, the outer portion being thick, deeply stained
of a ruddy brown, and separated into a great number of flakes,
lying loosely upon each other. This outer covering is so thick,
harsh, and crumpled, that it looks more like the rough bark of a
tree than a spider's web, and its true nature would hardly be rec-
ognized even by the touch. The exterior of a common wasp's
nest bears some resemblance to this part of the tube. Beneath
this covering is an inner layer of a very different character. This
is uniformly smooth to the eye, and of a silken softness to the
touch. It is but slightly adherent in places to the outer tube,
and can be separated without any difficulty and without injuring
the one or the other.

The texture of the interior surface is quite unlike that of the
inner or outer tube, being nearly white, and of a smoothness and
consistency much resembling the rough and unsized paper on
which Continental books are usually printed. It is curiously stiff
also, and is so formed that no one who saw it for the first time
would be likely to guess at its real character. The microscope,
however, reveals its true character at once. If the interior of the
tube be submitted to a moderately low power, say from thirty to
forty diameters, a curious sight is presented to the observer. The
surface looks like very rough felt,- covered with little promi-
nences, and composed of threads twisted together without the
least apparent order. The threads are very coarse, in comparison
to ordinary spider-web, and seem to be stiff, as if covered with
size or gum.

The entrance of the tube is guarded by the "trap-door," from
which the spider takes its name. This is a flap of the same sub-
stance as the tube, circular in shape, so as to fit the orifice with
perfect accuracy, and attached to the tube by a tolerably wide
hinge, so that when it closes it does not fall to either side, but
comes true and fair upon the opening which it defends. The in-
ner surface of the trap-door is white and felt-like, and exactly re-
sembles the interior of the tube, but its outer surface is covered
with earth, taken from the soil in which the hole is dug. As the
trap-door is flush with the surface of the ground, it is evident
that, when it is closed, all traces of the burrow and its inhabitant
are lost.

The spider is urged by a curious instinct to make its tunnel in

THE TEAP-DOOE SI'IDEE AND NESTS.

SPIDERS. 137

some sloping spot, and to keep the hinge uppermost, so that when
the inhabitant leaves its home, or retreats to the extremity of its
burrow, the door closes of its own accord, and effectually conceals
it. New-comers into the country which the Trap-door Spider in-
habits are often surprised by seeing the ground open, a little lid
lifted up, and a rather formidable spider peer about, as if to recon-
noitre the position before leaving its fortress. At the least move-
ment on the part of the spectator, back pops the spider, like the
cuckoo on a clock, clapping its little door after it quite as smartly
as the wooden bird, and in most cases succeeds in evading the
search of the astonished observer, the soil being apparently un-
broken, without a trace of the curious little door that had been so
quickly shut.

In the British Museum there is one of these tubes, which tells
a curious story, and shows that the spider which made it had
chosen cultivated ground for its residence. About three inches
from the mouth of the tube there is a tough, leathery flap, the ob-
ject of which is not very apparent. A closer examination shows
that this flap was a disused trap-door, and that the spider had
lengthened its cell and made a second door at the new entrance.
This fact proved that the ground had increased in thickness since
the spider completed its habitation, and that the addition to the
surface was very rapid, for the spider is not remarkable for lon-
gevity, and yet, in its short life, three inches of soil had covered
the entrance to its silken cell. Evidently the creature had bur-
rowed in cultivated soil, most probably in a garden, and in pro-
cess of tilling the ground, a spadeful or two of earth had been
thrown over the trap-door. Being thus imprisoned, the spider
had no other resource but to push its way through, the earth,
lengthen its tube, and make another door level with the new sur-
face.

The spider itself is an odd-looking creature, with rather short,
but very powerful legs, and a most formidable pair of fangs.
These fangs are notable for the fact that their bases are furnished
with a series of sharply-pointed barbs. This peculiarity has given
to the spider the generic name of Cteniza, this title being derived
from a Greek word signifying a comb. The abdomen is very
large, round, and firm, and from its tip projects the spinnerets, by
means of which the silken tunnel is made. Altogether, it has so
crustacean an aspect, that, in common with many other species, it
is called by the French the Crab Spider. The length of the spec-

138 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

imen now before me is about an inch and a quarter, exclusive of
the legs.

It is nocturnal in its habits, and during the night it leaves its
burrow and hunts foi* prey. Insects of various kinds fall victims
to this spider, and at the bottom of its tunnel may be found the
relics of its feast, often including the remains of tolerably large
beetles. If, when it is within its home, the lid be lifted gently,
the spider hastens to the entrance, hooks its hind legs to the silk-
en lining of the lid, and the fore legs to the side of the tube, and
resists with all its might. Some writers have averred that it em-
ploys the curved fangs for this purpose, and that the comb-like
array of barbs is useful in giving it a stronger hold ; but a very
slight examination of the spider will show that such an action
would be impossible, and that even if the fangs were hitched into
the silk, the barbs would have no effect whatever on the firmness
of the hold.

Nothing short of actual violence will induce the Trap-door
Spider to vacate the premises which it so courageously defends.
It will permit the earth to be excavated around its burrow, and
the whole nest to be removed, without deserting its home ; and
in this manner specimens have been removed and placed in po-
sitions where their proceedings could be watched. Some few
months ago, several examples of the Trap-cloor Spider and its nest
were to be seen in the reptile-room of the Zoological Gardens.
Boldly as the spider guards its home, and energetic as it is while
ensfaered in defense, it is no sooner removed from the burrow than
it loses all its activity, remains fixed to the spot as if stupefied, or,
at the best, walks languidly about without appearing to have any
definite object in view.

Trap-door Spiders inhabit many parts of the world. In the
British Museum is a curious specimen of a nest, which is furnish-
ed with two doors, one at each end. The door of one end is rath-
er loosely and irregularly made, as is, indeed, the whole end of
the nest; but, at the other extremity, the door is beautifully
rounded, very smooth, and fitting with astonishing neatness into
the aperture. This curious specimen was discovered in Albania,
and presented by W. Wilson Saunders, Esq.

The gem of the collection, however, for accuracy and finish, is
one that is the work of an Australian spider, and was found at
Adelaide. Only the upper part of the tube is preserved, so as to
show the valve which closes it ; but no one who really takes an

SPIDERS. 139

interest in natural history can pass this nest without pausing in
admiration. The workmanship is wonderful, and the hole, with
its cover, looks as if it had been made in clay, by means of the
potter's wheel, so regular and true are its outlines. The hole it-
self is circular, but the door is semicircular, the hinge extending
across the middle of the aperture.

Two points in this door are specially worthy of notice, the one
being that its edge, as well as that of the aperture, is beveled off
inward, so that the accurate closure of the entrance is rendered a
matter of absolute certainty. The second point is, that the outer
surface of the door, together with the surrounding earth, is ingen-
iously covered with little projections, so that when the door is
closed, the line which, on smooth ground, would have marked its
presence is totally hidden. The shape of the door, too, is remark-
able. Toward its hinge it is comparatively thin, but upon the
edge it is very thick, solid, and heavy, so that its own weight is
sufficient to keep it firmly closed. The "hinge," to which allu-
sion has frequently been made, is not a separate piece of work-
manship, but is a continuation of the silken tube which lines the
tunnel. An exact imitation of its principle may be made by
taking the cover of a book, and cutting it across from the inside,
until all its substance except the cloth or leather is severed, and
then bending the two portions back. The cloth or leather will
then form a hinge precisely similar to that of the Trap-cloor Spi-
der, the pasteboard taking the place of the earthen door.

140 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

CHAPTER VII.

BURROWING INSECTS.

HYMENOPTERA.

The Sauba Ant and its Habitation. — Use of the "Parasol" Leaves. — Mr. Bates's
Account of the Insect. — Enormous Extent of the Dwelling. — The Ddskt Ant. —
Its Strength and Perseverance. — Man and Insect contrasted. — The Bkown Ant.
— Form of its Habitation. — Regulation of Temperature. — Necessity of Moisture.
—How the Ant constructs Ceilings.— Mining Bees. — The Andrena and its bur-
rowing Powers. — The Eucera. — Its Habitation and curious Method of liberating
the Antennae. — The Scolia, its Burrows and its Prey. — The Indian Sphex and
its Ingenuity. — The Mellinus and Oxybelus. — Curious Method of catching
Prey. — The Philanthus, its Burrow, and the Food of its Young — The Humble-
bee — its general Habits. — Locality of its Dwelling. — Development of the Young.
— The Lapidary Bee, its Colors, Disposition, and Habits. — The Wasp — its Food
and Habitation. — Materials and Architecture of the Nest. — Disposition, Form,
and Number of the Cells. — Biography of a Queen Wasp, and History of her Nest.
— Other British Wasps and their Homes. — The Monedrila and its Prey. — Bold-
ness of the Insect, and its Uses to Travelers. — Thfe Bembex. — Its energetic Hab-
its, its Food, and Mode of storing the Nest.

The burrowing Insects now come before our notice.

Of these creatures there is much store, for, indeed, the greater
number of insects are wholly or entirely burrowers at some pe-
riod of their existence. It frequently happens that the very in-
sects which we most admire, which are decorated with the most
brilliant colors, and which soar on the most ethereal wings, have
passed the greater portion of their lives as burrowers beneath the
surface of the earth.

Take, for example, the well-known May-fly, or Ephemera, so
called because its existence was once thought to be comprised
within the limits of a single day. How delicate are its gauzy
wings; how wonderful are the iridescent tints which play over
their surface with a changeful radiance, like that of the opal or
the pigeon's neck; and how marvelous is the muscular power
which enables the new-born being to disport itself in the air for
a period which, in comparison with our own lives, is equal to at
least forty years! It never seems to weary. It wavers up and
down, up and down in the air, together with myriads of its com-
panions, and for the greater portion of its terrestrial existence is

BURROWING INSECTS. 141

an inhabitant of the air; yet its life has not altogether been spent
in amusing itself, for it has passed an existence of some three
years or more hidden from human gaze.

To-day it is a bright denizen of the sunbeams, exulting in its
beauty, and dancing in very rapture in the air; yesterday, it
was a denizen of the mud, a slimy, crawling, repulsive creature,
breathing through the medium of the water, and feeding greedily
upon any prey that might come within its reach. Yesterday,
had it been removed from the water and laid in the sunbeams, it
would have died as with poison, and in an hour would have been
reduced to a dry and withered semblance of its former self; to-
day, were it to be plunged beneath the waters, it would quickly
perish, and be shortly eaten by its former companions. For it is
fitted for a higher position and a purer atmosphere, so that the
element which but a few hours ago was its very life, has now
become a present death, and the food in which it so lately revel-
ed can no longer be received into that etherealized form.

So is it with many other insects. Some of our most tender
and downy-plumed moths, whose exquisitely delicate raiment is
destroyed by a touch, have entered upon their winged state while
in the bowels of the earth, and have made their way through the
soil without losing a single feather of the myriad plumes with
which their bodies and wings are covered. Flies, too, whose
slender bodies and light gauzy wings always excite our wonder,
that a thing so light should contend with the world, have passed
the greater part of their lives in some dark hole, where the fresh
air never entered, and into which the sunbeams never cast a ray.

"Were this work to be arranged according to the rigid systems
of zoological schoolmen, the list of burrowing insects must have
been headed by the beetles ; but, as the subject of the book is to
describe the peculiar dwellings which are needful for the welfare
of various animals, a different arrangement is necessary, so that a
well-built home takes precedence over a well-developed animal.
If we wish to select an order of insects which surpasses every
other in the variety and excellence of their burrows, we turn at
once to the Hymenoptera, a large and important group of insects,
which includes the wasps, bees, ants, saw-flies, ichneumons, and
one or two other families. The greater number of these insects
burrow in the ground ; but others are remarkable for their won-
derful powers of excavating the hardest wood, and of forming

142 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

therein a series of beautifully made cells, for the protection of the
future brood.

Turn we first to some exotic Ants which inhabit tropical
America.

I have felt considerable doubt whether the Sauba, or Coushie
Ant (GEcodoma cephalotes), ought to be reckoned among the bur-
rowers or the builders, inasmuch as it makes large excavations
below the ground, and raises dome-like edifices on its surface.
As, however, the burrows are very much larger than the build-
ings, I shall place it with the former class, reserving for the cor-
responding example of the building-insects the Termites, whose
edifices are more important than their burrows. It must first be
mentioned that, although this species has often been described as
the Visiting Ant, it is in reality a distinct species, as will be seen
in the course of a few pages.

The Saiiba Ant is restricted to tropical America, where it ex-
ists in such vast profusion, that it oftentimes takes forcible pos-
session of the land, and drives out the human inhabitants who
have cultivated and planted it. Broad columns of these ants
may be seen marching along, each individual carrying in its
jaws a circular piece of leaf, about the size of a sixpence, which
is held vertically by one of its edges. In the British Museum
there is a specimen of a Saiiba Ant, with the leaf still grasped in
its jaws, the ruling passion strong in death. From this curious
habit the creature is sometimes called the Parasol Ant, and many
persons have thought that the leaves are carried in order to pro-
tect the insect against the hot sunbeams. The real reason, how-
ever, has been discovered by Mr. H. W. Bates, who has studied
with great care the habits of this remarkable insect, and has dis-
entangled its history from many doubts and difficulties.

There are, as is usual with all ants, three distinct ranks —
namely, the winged, the large -headed, or soldiers, as they are
popularly called, and the ordinary workers. The large -headed
individuals are subdivided into two classes, namely, the smooth-
heads and rough -heads, the former wearing a polished, horny,
translucent helmet, and the head of the latter being opaque and
covered with hair. The large-headed ants do no ostensible work,
all the labor falling to the lot of the workers. These creatures
make raids upon the trees, always giving the preference to culti-
vated trees, such as the orange and the coffee, and cut away the

THE COUSHIE ANT. 143

leaves so fast that the growth is stopped, and the entire plant
sometimes dies.

The use of the leaves is to thatch the domes of their curious
edifices, and to prevent the loose earth from falling in. Some of
these domes are of gigantic dimensions, measuring two feet in
height and forty feet in diameter, the mightiest efforts of man
appearing small and insignificant when the comparative dimen-
sions of the builders are taken into consideration. Division of
labor is carried out to a wonderful extent in these buildings, for
the laborers which gather and fetch the leaves do not place them,
but merely fling them down on the ground, and leave them to a
relay of workers, who lay them in their proper order. As soon
as they have been properly arranged, they are covered with little
globules of earth, and in a very short time they are quite hidden
by their earthy covering.

The functions performed by the large-headed ants are not very
evident. Those with smooth fronts seem to do nothing but walk
about. They do not fight like the soldier-termites, nor do they
appear to exercise any rule over the workers. Moreover, they
have no sting, and even when assaulted they scarcely ever resent
the insult. The hairy-headed variety is still more enigmatical in
its duties. " If the top of a small, fresh hillock, one in which the
thatching process is going on, be taken off, a broad cylindrical
shaft is disclosed, at a depth of about two feet from the surface.
If this be probed with a stick, which may be done to the extent
of three or four feet without touching the bottom, a small num-
ber of colossal fellows will slowly begin to make their way up
the smooth sides of the mine. Their heads are of the same size
as the class No. 2, but the front is clothed with hairs instead of
being polished, and they have in the middle of the forehead a
twin ocellus, or simple eye, of quite different structure from the
ordinary compound eyes on the sides of the head. This frontal
eye is totally wanting in the other workers, and is not known in
any other kind of ant. The apparition of these strange creatures
from the enormous depths of the mine reminded me, when I first
observed them, of the Cyclops of Homeric fable. They were
not very pugnacious, as I feared they would be, and I had no dif-
ficulty in securing a few with my fingers. I never saw them un-
der any other circumstances than those here related, and what
their special functions may be I can not divine."

The subterranean galleries which these creatures form are of

144 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

almost incredible extent — so vast, indeed, and so complicated,
that they have never been fully investigated. A conjecture as to
their size may be formed from the fact, that when sulphur smoke
was blown into a nest, one of the outlets was detected at a dis-
tance of seventy yards. The Saiiba has often done considerable
damage to property, having pierced the embankment of a large
reservoir, and let out all the water before the damage could be
detected.

The winged class is composed of the perfect male and female,
which take their departure from the nest in January and Febru-
ary. They are quite unlike the other workers and soldiers, be-
ing larger and darker, with rounder bodies and a more bee-like
aspect. The female is a really large insect, measuring more than
two inches in expanse of wing, and the body being equal in size
to a hornet; but the male is much smaller, as is generally the
custom with the insect race. Of the hosts which pour out of the
nests, only a few individuals remain after a space of twelve hours,
the nest having been devoured by birds and other insect-eating
creatures. Those which survive address themselves to the found-
ing of new colonies; and so prolific are these insects, that, in spite
of the vast destruction wrought among the winged individuals, to
whom alone the task of reproduction belongs, man often has to
retire before them, and even his art can not conquer them.

The Saiiba is one of the very few ants that does not attack
other creatures. The real Driver, or Visiting, or Foraging
Ant, of which there are several species, belongs to another
genus, Eciton, which will be described among the building -in-
sects.

Most of the British ants are among the burrowers, hollowing
out subterranean abodes of great extent, and constructing them
upon some intricate plan, the principle of which is not very evi-
dent. The Dusky Ant {Formica fused) generally prefers banks
with a southern aspect, in which it forms its elaborate dwelling.
Like many other ants, it is somewhat of a builder as well as a
miner, and can raise story upon story, as well as add them by ex-
cavation. This task is achieved by covering the former roof with
a layer of fresh and moist clay, and converting it into a floor for
the next story. Dry weather has the effect of retarding the ants
in their labors, because they find a difficulty in procuring suffi-
cient moisture wherewith to mix the clav.

THE DUSKY ANT. 145

The muscular power and the energy and endurance of the ant
are truly wonderful ; and if a human being, even if aided by tools,
could perform such a day's work as was achieved by a single ant
without them, he would be a wonder of the world. M. Huber had
the curiosity and good sense to devote the whole of a rainy day
to watching the proceedings of a single Dusky Ant. The insect
began by scooping out a groove in the earth, about a quarter of
an inch in depth, kneading the earth, which it removed into little
pellets, and placing them on each side of the groove, so as to form
a kind of wall. The interior of the groove was beautifully smooth
and regular, and when completed it looked very like a railway
cutting, and performed a similar office. After completing this
task, it looked about and found that there was another opening
in the nest to which a road must be made, and straightway set
to work upon a second sunken path of a similar character, paral-
lel to the first, and being separated from it merely by a wall of a
third of an inch in height.

Compare the size of an ant with that of a man, and then see
how vast are the powers of so small a creature. Taking all
the calculations in round numbers, and very much to the disad-
vantage of the ant, we find that a single man, who would have
achieved a similar work in a single day, must have acted as fol-
lows:

He must have excavated two parallel trenches, each of seven-
ty-two feet in length and four feet six inches in depth ; he must
have made bricks from the clay he dug out, and with them built
a wall along each side of the trenches, from two to three feet in
height and fourteen or fifteen inches in thickness ; and lastly, he
must have gone over the whole of his work again, and smoothed
the interior until it was exactly true, straight, and level. All
this work must also have been done without the least assistance,
and the ground must be supposed to be filled with huge boulders,
and covered with tree-trunks, broken logs, and other impediments.

The most admirable subterranean architecture is perhaps that
of the Brown Ant (Formica brunnea), a species which is not very
commonly known in this country, and is probably confined to cer-
tain localities. Its habitation and the mode of its construction
have been carefully noted by M. Huber.

This ant works mostly at night, and during light, misty rain,
the sunbeams being obnoxious, and heavy showers causing much
inconvenience. The nest is a most complicated structure, com-

K

146 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

posed of a series of stories, often reaching thirty or forty in num-
ber, and generally being built in a sloping direction. These sto-
ries are not composed of regular cells, like those of the bee, wasp,
and hornet, but of chambers and galleries of very irregular form
and dimensions, beautifully smoothed in the interior, and about
one fifth of an inch in height. The walls are about the twenty-
fourth of an inch in thickness. The object of so many stories is
to be able to regulate the heat and moisture of their establish-
ments. If, for example, the sun is not very powerful, and the in-
stinct of the little insects tells them that more heat is required in
order to hatch the pupae which are undergoing their metamorpho-
sis, they take up the white burdens and carry them into the up-
per chambers, where the heat is greater than below.

Again, if there should be a heavy rain, which floods all the low-
er stories, nothing is easier for the inhabitants than to remove
themselves and brood into the upper sets of chambers, where they
will be secure from the inundation. On those days when the sun
is peculiarly hot, the ants secure a more equable temperature, by
removing the young brood to the central flats, if they can be so
called, while they themselves can obtain the needful moisture
from the lower parts of the nest, to which the sunbeams can not
penetrate. Were it not for this provision which they instinct-
ively make, all building operations would be stopped during a
drought, whereas, by descending to the cellars or crypts of the
mansion, the ants can obtain sufficient clay for ordinary work.

In order to watch the ants closer, Huber constructed a kind of
vivarium in which they could work, and supplied them with earth,
sand, and other necessaries. As, in this artificial state of existence,
the insects could not procure moisture from the depths of the
earth, moisture from other sources was necessary. Whenever the
insects had ceased to work, they could almost always be induced
to renew their labors by dipping a stiff brush in water, and strik-
ing the hand upon it in such a manner that the water descended
like very fine rain upon the earth. As soon as the formerly qui-
escent ants felt the grateful shower, they regained their activity,
ran about with renewed energy, and set to work upon the soil,
moulding it into little pellets, and testing each tiny ball with their
antennas before they applied it to the purposes for which it was
made.

While some of the ants were engaged in this task, which must
be considered analogous to brickmaking as practiced by mankind,

THE BROWN ANT. 147

others were scooping out shallow hollows in the claj floor, the lit-
tle ridges that were left standing being the foundation of the new
walls. On these were dabbed the earthen pellets, and adjusted by
means of the mandibles or by pressure of the fore feet, thus re-
ceiving compactness and uniformity. The most difficult part of
such a task is the formation of the ceiling, but the ants do not ap-
pear to be at all embarrassed by so formidable an undertaking,
but can lay ceilings of two inches in diameter with perfect certain-
ty. The method of constructing the ceiling is by moulding the
clay pellets into each angle of the chamber and also to the top of
the pillars. As fast as one row of pellets becomes dry, a second
is added ; and the insects perform this delicate duty with such ac-
curacy, that although so many centres are employed, the parts al-
ways coincide in the proper spots. The peculiar kneading and
biting to which the clay pellets are subjected makes them exceed-
ingly tenacious, so that they adhere strongly on the slightest con-
tact.

"When once these walls are completed, they are of very great
strength, and are only the more consolidated by rain and heat.
Before their completion, however, they do not appear to endure
the extreme either of heat or moisture, and are taken to pieces
by the little architects if a drought should check the supply of
that moisture, without which the work can not be properly com-
pacted.

Mr. Eennie, who followed up the observations of Huber, makes
the following remarks on the nest of the ant: — "On digging cau-
tiously into a natural ant-hill, established upon the edge of a gar-
den walk, we were enabjed to obtain a pretty complete view of
the interior structure. There were two stories, composed of large
chambers, irregularly oval, communicating with each other by
arched galleries, the walls of all which were as smooth as if they
had been passed over by a plasterer's trowel. The floors of the
chambers, we remarked, were by no means either horizontal or
level, but all more or less sloped, and exhibiting in each chamber
at least two slight depressions of an irregular shape. We left the
under story of this nest untouched, with the notion that the ant
might repair the upper galleries, of which we had made a vertical
section ; but instead of doing so, they migrated during the day to
a large crack, formed by the dryness of the weather, about a yard
from their old nest.'"

This description is accompanied by a sketch of a portion of the

148

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

dwelling. Five chambers are shown, two large and three small,
communicating with the gallery by very short corridors.

It is a noteworthy fact, that the ant will always avail itself of
any accidental circumstances that may assist it in building. For
example, one of these industrious little beings has been observed
to take advantage of some straws that happened to cross one an-
other, and to convert them into beams, wherewith the ceiling

Myrmeleon.

Ampulex.

could be supported. It began the work by depositing the little
clay pellets in the angles formed by the straws, and then laid
several rows of the pellets along the sides of each straw. The
ceiling rapidly grew under the jaws and feet of the ant, and on
account of the extemporized beams, was necessarily of much
greater strength than those which were constructed in the usual
manner.

THE YELLOW ANT — ANDRENA. 149

The common Yellow Ant {Formica flava), so abundant in
marshes and gardens, is also a good burrower, though its habit-
ation is not so large or so elaborate as that of the Brown Ant.
This species is very fond of making its subterranean houses un-
der stones or similar substances, and I have found hundreds of
the nests under fiat stone tiles that had once been employed in
edging the walks of a large kitchen-garden, and had been pressed
aside or sunk flat upon the earth. It is a curiously sociable spe-
cies, for it is often found occupying one side of a little hillock
while another species of ant, Myrmica scabrinodis, has possession
of the other. This latter species is sometimes extremely abund-
ant ; and it is a rather remarkable fact, that some of our rarest
British beetles are only to be found in the nests of the ants.

As is well known, the ants do not retain their wings for any
lengthened period, and after these members have served the pur-
pose for which they were intended, they are broken off by the
insect by means of a transverse seam near the base. There are,
however, many of the permanently winged hymenoptera which
possess very great powers of burrowing, and are able to excavate
soil so hard that a knife can scarcely make its way through the
solidly impacted mass of earth and stones.

The mining bees, which belong to the genus Andrena, are ad-
mirable burrowers, and in spite of their small size, drive their
little tunnels into the earth with astonishing ease. I once came
on a whole colony of the Andrena, in a peculiarly hard and stony
path near Dieppe. The ground was full of little holes, from
which the bees were continually issuing, and into which others
were as continually passing; their bodies yellow with the pollen
of the flowers which they had been rifling, and which was in-
tended to serve as a provision for the future brood.

An ordinary pocket-knife could make no impression on the
ground, mixed as it was with stones, trodden by daily traffic, and
baked by the heat of summer, into a mass nearly as hard as brick,
harder perhaps than the bricks that are employed for modern
houses. I was obliged, therefore, to return to my room and fetch
a great, rude, thick-bladed clasp-knife that was reserved for rough
work, and with much labor succeeded in tracing several of the
burrows. They were sunk, on an average, about eight inches
into the ground, and near the end they took a sudden turn, and
were ended by a rounded chamber, in which was almost invaria-

150 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

bly a ball of pollen about as large as a pea. No larva was found
in any of the burrows. The whole of the labor falls upon the
female, the fore legs of the male being unable to dig, and the
hind legs unable to carry the pollen.

The genus Andrena is of enormous extent, for in 1855, not less
than sixty-eight acknowledged species had been discovered in
England, and the number is probably increased after a space of
nearly ten years.

One of the most interesting members of this family is the pret-
ty insect known by the name of Eucera longicornis, and believed
to be the only British representative of its genus. The name
longicornis, or long-horned, is derived from the very long anten-
nas of the male, which is also remarkable for a notch on the first
joint of the fore legs. The use of this notch we shall presently
see. Like the bees which have just been mentioned, the Eucera
digs a rather deep burrow, but prefers a clay soil. The extremi-
ty of the burrow is widened into an oval cell, the walls of which
are beaten and pressed by the insect until they are quite hard.
The reason for this precaution is, that the cell is stored with a
mixture of honey and pollen, which is of a semi-fluid consistency,
and would be absorbed by the earth if the walls of the cell were
not " puddled," as engineers call the operation.

Within the cell is placed the egg, and in due time the larva is
hatched, and feeds on the soft sweet mixture with which it is sur-
rounded. It then changes into the pupal condition, and is re-
markable for being enveloped in a very thin pellicle, something
like the slough of a snake. Even the antennas are enveloped sep-
arately in the pellicle, and the male would find great difficulty in
divesting itself from the membrane, were it not for the notch in
the fore legs. As soon, however, as it is partially free, the insect
bends down its head, lodges successively each antennas in the
notch, closes the joint upon it, and then, by drawing the antennas
through the notch, strips off the pellicle with perfect ease.

Among these insects, the females are treated much as the wives
of savages are treated. All the work falls to their lot, and the
males do nothing but amuse themselves, circling about the nests
in graceful undulations, while the females are hard at work, dig-
ging the burrows and fetching home the food. Still, there is no
doubt but that this disparity is only in appearance, and that the
one sex feels as much enjoyment in following the instinct which

NEST OF THE SCOLIA. 151

teaches her to dig, as does the other in following the instinct
which teaches him to fly about.

At the right-hand side of the illustration on page 148 may be
seen a figure of a remarkable burrowing bee, called Scolia flavi-
frons, a native of Europe, but not as yet proved to be British.
In common with other fossorial bees, this insect is carnivorous in
its larval state, and is supplied by its mother with the creatures
on which it feeds.

Some insects feed upon larvae, others upon full-grown insects.
Some eat beetles, some devour bees, some prefer spiders, and
others flies, while a very great number of species are caterpillar-
eaters, and are in consequence extremely useful to the gardener
and farmer. This particular insect has a curious predilection,
and stocks its nest with the grub or larva of a beetle, belonging
to the genus Oryctes. At the bottom of the cell may be seen
certain grubs, the smaller of which is the larva of the Scolia, and
the larger that of the beetle. As may be seen from the illustra-
tion, the grub of the beetle is very much larger than that of the
creature which feeds upon it. The species which is here repre-
sented is a large and remarkably striking one, the four conspicu-
ous spots at once distinguishing it from any other insect. In the
middle of the illustration another example of a bee-burrower is
given, in order to show the manner in which the insect takes its
prey into the nest. The technical name of this species is Ampu-
lex compressa, and its nest is stocked with cockroaches, one of
which is being dragged into the hole, wherein it will be shortly
eaten by the inhabitant.

As space is valuable, I will merely give the names of our most
conspicuous burrowing bees, together with brief notice of their
habits.

All the species belonging to the genus Pompilus are burrow-
ers, and stock their nests with spiders. Sandy soils are favored
spots with these bees, some species preferring the dry, hard sand-
banks, while others choose soft and loamy sand for the site of
their habitation. The Sand "Wasps, belonging to the genus Am-
mophila, are always mighty burrowers, and set about their task
with a fiery zeal that never fails to excite the admiration of the
spectator, their antennas quivering and their wings- flirting with
excitement. When the burrow is completed, the mother insect
flies off in search of a caterpillar or spider, according to the spe-

152 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

cies, and conveys it to the bottom of the tunnel, where a small
chamber is excavated.

She always enters the burrow backward, grasping her prey in
her jaws and dragging it after her. It is so large that she can
scarcely force it along the tunnel, and were it not for the compar-
atively wide chamber, she would not be able to make her way
out again. When she has fairly lodged it in the chamber, she
creeps round it, deposits an egg upon it, and crawls out again,
taking care to stop up the entrance with some small pebbles.
She then flies away in search of a fresh victim, and after some
four or five caterpillars have been placed in the nest, she closes
the entrance carefully, flies off and dies, the great duty of her life
being then at an end.

There is an allied insect residing in India, which measures
about three quarters of an inch in length, and is of a fine polished
green color. Scientifically, it is known as Sphex scutigera. The
habits of this insect have been carefully watched by Sir J. Hear-
sey, K.C.B., who gave me much information respecting the meth-
od by which it prepares a habitation for its young. This species
preys upon large spiders and cockroaches, and sometimes displays
a wonderful amount of ingenuity in achieving its object.

One of these insects had captured a spider, which was too heavy
to be carried through the air. The Sphex then dragged it to a
little bank, dropped it into the water, and perched upon it, sitting-
there until it had been carried some distance down the water.
Finding that the spider was sinking, the Sphex left it, and sat on
a straw, which was floating down the stream, still, however, keep-
ing company with its prey. After a while, the spider struck
against the shore, and the Sphex then grasped it afresh, and tried
to drag it along. The steep bank, however, baffled all its endeav-
ors, and at last the industrious creature was obliged to leave the
spider on the ground, and to go off in search of another.

The dark and sombre little bee called Mellinus arvensis is an
excellent example of the burrowers. This insect preys on vari-
ous flies, and packs away a large number of its victims in the bur-
row. The flies which it chooses are all swift of wing, whereas the
Mellinus is rather a slow flyer, so that it can not take its prey by
open assault, but is obliged to trust to craft. In order, therefore,
to obtain its victims, the Mellinus watches some spot where flies
most love to congregate, and walks to and fro as if it were quite
unconcerned. It continues to run about in this manner until it

THE MELLINUS — OXYBELUS — PHILANTHUS. 153

comes close to a fly, when it springs upon the luckless insect,
trounces it in its claws, and carries it oft' like a falcon with a par-
tridge.

Six or seven flies are generally taken by the Mellinus, and as
soon as the larva is hatched it begins to devour the fly which is
nearest to the bottom of the cell. It eats them in succession,
usually devouring six of the victims, consuming the softer parts
only, and leaving the head, shell of the abdomen, part of the tho-
rax, and the limbs. Ten days suffice for the completion of its
feeding, and it then spins a tough, dark-colored cocoon, wherein
it remains during the winter and part of the spring, changes into
the pupal condition in the summer, and attains its perfect state at
the beginning of autumn.

Another species of burrowers, Oxybelus uniglumis, has similar
habits. Mr. F. Smith writes of it as follows: "I once observed
several females running among the blades of grass which shot up
from the surface of a little hillock upon which the sun shone and
tempted various diptera occasionally to alight. The Oxybeli
continued to run about, apparently unheedful of the flies, until,
at length, the latter became somewhat accustomed to their pres-
ence ; but when the Oxybelus came within five or six inches, it
darted upon the luckless fly in the same manner as a cat springs
upon its prey." The burrows of this species are generally made
in hard white sand.

The boldest of the British bee-burrowers is undoubtedly the
insect which is called Philanthus triangulum, inasmuch as it pro-
visions its nest with the common hive-bee, seizing the luckless
honey-makers, and carrying them off to its nest. It is a very
fierce-looking creature, with a large head and wide jaws, and has
a suspiciously waspish look, owing to its yellow abdomen and
black dots. It does not confine itself to the hive-bees, but seizes
also the andrenae and similar insects.

The members of the genus Cerceris are remarkable for the va-
riable coloring of the species, and for the widely different insects
with which they store their nests. Generally they prefer beetles,
and, strangely enough, they often select those species which are
not only small in body, but are furnished with very hard shells,
so that the larva would seem to experience some difficulty in
making a meal. Several beetles which Mr. Smith found in the
cells of the Cerceris were so hard that he could with difficulty
pass a pin through their bodies. Fortunately for agriculturists,

154

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

the Cerceris generally selects the very beetles which are most in-
jurious to vegetation, such as the various weevils and the turnip-
fleas. Mr. Smith is of opinion that the shells of the beetles are
softened by the dampness of the ground in which they lie.

In the accompanying illustration are shown the nests of two
common species of British Humble-bee.

Bombus Terrestria.

Bombus Lapidarius.

Both these species are burrowers, and sometimes make their
nests at a considerable depth beneath the surface. The common
Humble-bee {Bombus terrestris) generally makes its subterranean
house in the side of some bank, and the nest is usually found at
a depth of a foot or eighteen inches. Sometimes, however, in
places where the soil is light and friable, the nest has been found
at a very great depth from the surface, so that a perpendicular
shaft of five feet in length has been required before the nest

THE HUMBLE-BEE. 155

could be reached. In all probability the bee has been aided by
the burrow of a field-mouse, when the gallery has been of such a
length.

The history of the nest is really a curious one.

At the end of autumn nearly all the Humble-bees die. The
males invariably perish, but one or two of the females survive,
and pass the winter in a state of hibernation. They do not se-
lect the nest for this purpose, convenient though the locality may
seem, but hide themselves away singly in sheltered spots, such as
the eaves of thatched barns, hollow trees, haystacks, or old ruins.
When the sunbeams of spring gain warmth and strength, the
sleepers awaken from their torpor, and immediately search for a
spot wherein the new home may be excavated.

These bees, which are the Methuselahs of their short-lived race,
may be seen in any warm spring day, flying about in all direc-
tions, prowling over every spare yard of ground, and settling here
and there, as if to test the quality of the soil. They are very
jealous of observation at this time, and if they think that they
are being watched, will take instant offense and fly off with a
quick, eager sound, very different from the steady, monotonous
hum with which they accompany their researches. To watch
one of these insects in hopes of seeing her begin her labors, is an
endless task, for she will never dig an inch of soil as long as she
sees any suspicious object, and will often make her way under a
thick tuft of herbage, and remain quietly in the retired nook until
she fancies that the danger has passed away.

When, however, she has suited herself with a locality, she
scrapes away the ground quickly, and when she has dug to a suf-
ficient depth, she scoops out a small cavity or chamber, and there-
in constructs her first nest. There are but few cells at the bes-in-
ning of the year, and these contain the first workers, who are in -
tended to assist in constructing the enlarged nest. The larvas
are large, fat, white, round-bodied creatures, with little horny
heads, and their bodies always slightly curved. When they
have completed their feeding, each spins for itself an oval cocoon
of coarse silk, rather irregular in shape, very soft, tough, and
thick in consistency.

Herein they remain until they have attained their perfect state,
when they gnaw a round piece from one end of the cocoon, just
as a chicken chips off the top of the egg, and emerge into the
nest. They do not venture out into the air for several days, the

156 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

thick hair with which they are covered being all matted together,
their wings soft and crumpled, and their limbs scarcely able to
bear them. Two or three days are generally passed in the nest,
and not until having gained their full strength do they venture
out into the wide world. None but worker bees are developed
for the first part of the year, the females and males not making
their appearance until the summer weather has set in.

As may be seen from the illustration, the cells of the Humble-
bee are not arranged in regular rows like those of the hive-bee,
but are set carelessly side by side, mostly fixed together in groups
of greater or lesser dimensions. Now and then a very little group
of two or three cells is found, and single cells are occasionally to
be seen, detached from the general mass.

This species is more prolific than any other, and the nests con-
tain more individuals. Mr. Smith mentions that in one nest he
found one hundred and seven males, fifty-six females, and one
hundred and eighty workers, making a total of three hundred
and forty-three inhabitants. Compared with the numbers that
inhabit the hive, this may seem to be but a small amount ; but
when the reader takes into consideration the fact that the insects
are very much larger than the hive-bee, and that the cells in
which they are hatched and nurtured are not only of correspond-
ing size but are also set very irregularly, so as to occupy a large
amount of space, he will see that the cells which produced nearly
three hundred and fifty Humble-bees must have formed very
large groups, and that the cavity which contained them must
have been exceedingly large in proportion to the size of the ex-
cavators.

As far as my own experience goes, there is little danger in un-
earthing and exploring the nest of the Humble-bee. Opinions
differ greatly on this point, some practical observers saying that
the bees are dangerous when irritated, and that they execute
stinged vengeance on the disturbers of the home ; while others
report that the insects do not attack at all; and others, again,
say that they attack, but that their stings cause so little pain as to
excite no fear. I have opened many a nest of the Humble-bee,
and never been stung by the inhabitants, though the bare hand
might easily have suffered, as it was thrust into the chamber
wherein the cells reposed.

The honey of the Humble-bee is peculiarly sweet and fragrant,
but not suitable for general consumption, as many persons, my-

THE HUMBLE-BEE. 157

self among the number, are always attacked with severe headache
after eating the contents even of a single cell. The color of all
Humble-bees is most variable, especially in the male sex — so va-
riable, indeed, that Mr. Kirby, in his monograph of the British
bees, has divided this insect into seven distinct species. As if to
add to the difficulty of identifying the different varieties, bees of
more than one species will sometimes be found in one nest.

The colors, however, of the present species are generally as fol-
lows : The female is nearly an inch in length, and the general
color is black. The collar is orange-yellow ; a band of the same
hue is drawn near the second segment of the abdomen ; the hind-
er edge of the fourth segment and the whole of the fifth segment
are pale yellow, and the tip of the abdomen is naked. The work-
er is barely half the size of the queen, and is marked in a' similar
manner, except that white hairs are mixed with the yellow. The
male is intermediate in size, between the female and worker, being
about three fourths of an inch in length. The yellow is brighter
than in the female, and the tip of the abdomen is covered with
light tawnj? hairs.

The right-hand nest in the illustration is that of the Red-tipped
Humble-bee of Shakspeare, known as the Lapidary Bee (Bombus
lapidarius), which derives its specific name from its habit of mak-
ing its nest within heaps of stone. This beautiful insect is plen-
tiful in most parts of England, and may be known by the bright
orange-red hue which decorates the last three segments of the
abdomen. The female and worker of this species are precisely
alike, except in their size ; the former, which is popularly called
the queen bee, measuring nearly an inch from the head to the tip
of the tail, while the worker is scarcely half that length. The
male is very variable in color, but is generally black, with thick
yellowish hairs upon the face, the fore part of the thorax, and the
first segment of the abdomen.

I have always found this species to be fiercer than the preced-
ing, and have more than once been driven away from the neigh-
borhood of the nest by its rapid and incessant attacks. The sting
with which this bee is armed is a very formidable weapon, and
the poison which it conveys into the wound is extremely viru-
lent, causing much pain, and leaving a dull, aching sensation for
several days afterward. These symptoms, however, vary accord-
ing to the individual who is stung, and those which are mention-
ed are described according to personal experience.

158 HOMES WITHOUT HAXDS.

Generally, the Lapidary Bee makes its nest in heaps of stone,
sometimes choosing those hillocks of rough stones which are
heaped on the sides of roads, awaiting the stone-breaker and his
hammer. Sometimes the fallen debris of limestone rocks affords
a residence for this bee, and, in many instances, it burrows into
the ground, and there makes its nest, just like that of the com-
mon humble-bee.

Eighteen species of the true British Humble-bees are now rec-
ognized, all of them social in their habits, but varying much in the
localities and form of their dwellings. Several of them will be
described in a future page. Meanwhile, it will suffice to mention
that the use of scientific terms, when speaking of these insects, is
absolutely necessary, the popular mind not having recognized
the different species, which are, in consequence, without popular
names. Any Humble-bee, no matter what species, is known as a
Bumble-bee, a Foggie, a Dumbledore, or a Hummel-bee, accord-
ing to the peculiar dialect of the locality ; and very few persons
seem to have any idea that there can be more than one species.

There is one well-known and very handsome insect, which is
equally disliked by the bee-keeper, the gardener, and the grocer,
as it annoys them greatly in their respective callings. This is the
common Wasp (Vesjya vulgaris), which is equally fond of honey,
fruit, and sugar ; and as it is armed with a potent weapon, is not
merely a hateful marauder, but a formidable enemy. The gar-
dener, however, is the least injured of the three, for the Wasp
confers upon him some slight benefits, which counteract in some
degree the inroads which it makes upon his treasures. It is true
that the Wasp is very fond of ripe fruit, and that with an unfail-
ing instinct it prefers the choicest fruits, exactly when they are in
their best condition, gnawing holes in them, and spoiling them for
the market. Still it is more of a predacious than a vegetable-
feeding insect, and kills so many flies that it relieves the garden-
er of other foes, which, in the end, would be more injurious than
itself, inasmuch as the larva endangers not only the fruit but the
very life of the plant. It is a strangely bold insect, and has re-
course to singular methods of procuring food. In the farming
department at Walton Hall, I have seen the pigs lying in the
warm sunshine, the flies clustering thickly on their bodies, and
the Wasps pouncing on the flies and carrying them off. It was
a curious sight to watch the total indifference of the pigs, the

THE WASP. 159

busy clustering of the flies, with which the hide was absolutely
blackened in some places, and then to see the yellow -bodied
Wasp just clear the wall, dart into the dark mass, and retreat
again with a fly in its fatal grasp. On the average, one Wasp
arrived every ten seconds, so that the pig-sty must have been a
well-known storehouse for these insects.

As is well known to every boy who has participated in the
delight of taking a Wasp's nest, the habitation of the insect is
mostly under ground, and is a marvel of ingenious industry.
The shape is more or less globular, and the material of which it
is composed is very much like coarse brown paper, though not so
tough. If it be opened, a wonderful scene is disclosed ; terrace
upon terrace of hexagonal cells being arranged in regular rows,
and inclosed in a shell of papery substance, some half an inch in
thickness, which is evidently intended to prevent the earth from
falling among the combs, as these cell-terraces are called.

We will now suppose ourselves to be present at the con-
struction of the nest, and, Prospero-like, will see without being-
seen.

In the early days of spring, a Wasp issues from the place in
which it has passed the winter, and anxiously surveys the coun-
try. She does not fly fast nor high, but passes slowly and care-
fully along, examining every earth-bank, and entering every crev-
ice to which she comes. At last she finds a burrow made by a
field-mouse, or perhaps strikes upon the deserted tunnel of some
large burrowing insect, enters it, stays a long while within, comes
out again and fusses about outside, enters again, and seems to
make up her mind. In fact, she is house-hunting, and all her
movements are very like those of a careful matron selecting a
new home.

Having thus settled upon a convenient spot, she proceeds to
form a chamber, at some depth from the surface, breaking away
the soil, and carrying it out piece by piece. When she has thus
fashioned the chamber to her mind — for she has a mind — she
flies off again, and makes her way to an old wooden fence which
has stood for many years, and which, although not rotten, is per-
fectly seasoned. On this she settles, and, after running up and
down for a little time, she fixes upon some spot, and begins to
gnaw away the fibres, working with all her might, so eagerly
engaged that even were we not invisible we might stand by and
watch her proceedings. At last, she has gathered a little bundle

160 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

of fibres, which she gnaws and works about until she reduces
them to a kind of pulp, and then flies back to the burrow.

She now runs up the side of the chamber, and clings to its
roof with the two last pairs of legs, while with the first pair, aid-
ed bj her jaws, she fixes the woody pulp on the roof, kneading it
until it forms a kind of little pillar. Another and another supply
is brought, until this pillar, which is pendent from the roof, like a
pajner mache stalactite, is completed. The Wasp now begins to
form the comb, and at the end of the pillar she places three very
shallow cells, of a cup-like shape, not hexagonal, as are the com-
pleted cells. In each of these little cups she deposits an egg, and
then constructs a roof over them, made from the same material as
the cells, but laid in a different manner, the length of the fibres
being nearly at right angles to the centre of the proposed comb.
More cells are then added, eggs are laid in them, and the roof ex-
tended over them.

The eggs that were laid in the first three cells are now hatched,
and have produced very tiny grubs, which are always hungry,
and require much attention. They grow rapidly, and, in propor-
tion to their growth, the parent Wasp adds to the walls of their
cells, so that the young grubs are suspended, with their heads
downward, as, indeed, is the custom with very many hymenop-
terous larvae. The Wasp proceeds in her task, having all the
cares of the nest upon her — the enlargement of the chamber, the
building of the nest, the transport of materials, the deposition of
the eggs, and the feeding of the ever-hungry grubs.

In due time, however, the oldest grubs cease to feed, spin a
silken cover over their cells, and release their parent from far-
ther attendance upon them. In the cells they undergo the change
to the perfect state, and, after they have passed a short season in
retirement, they tear away the silken cover with their jaws, and
come forth as perfect Wasps. As soon as they have gained
strength to use their limbs, they take the heavy labors upon them,
and the work goes merrily on, the mother Wasp having little to
do but to deposit eggs in the cells as fast as they are made.

Before very long, the first cell-terrace is completely full, and
more accommodation is needed. This is supplied in a very curi-
ous manner. Taking the junction point of these cells as the
foundation, the Wasps construct several pendent pillars, exactly
like the one which has already been described, and, by dint of
adding cells to each, they all unite, and form a second terrace,

THE WASP.

161

below the first, the distance between them being just sufficiently-
large to permit the Wasps to cross each other. In this, as in the
former terrace, all the mouths of the cell are downward and their
bases upward, so thaj the bases of the second terrace form a floor
on which the Wasps can walk while feeding the young contained
in the first. A third, fourth, and fifth terrace are added in this
manner, all alike, the cells being so small that the mother Wasp
can not even put her head into them.

Wasp Neat.

It will be seen, therefore, that, as insects never grow after they
have assumed the perfect form, the Wasps which have been bred
in these cells must be very much smaller than their parent. They
are, in fact, the worker wasps, or neuters, as they are sometimes
called, whose entire life is devoted to labor, and who, in fact, are
undeveloped females.

162 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

Now, however, a change takes place. The cells of which the
next few terraces are composed are of very much larger dimen-
sions than the others, and are intended for the purpose of hatch-
ing the grubs which will afterward become perfect male and
female wasps. It will be seen, therefore, that the workers are
hatched in the earlier part of the year, and that the male and fe-
male do not make their appearance until the end of the season.
The cell-terraces increase gradually in diameter until the fourth
or fifth, when they usually decrease slightly, and in exact accord-
ance with their enlargement the covering is extended over them.
A large nest will contain about seven or eight thousand cells;
and, on the average, each cell is the birth-place of three genera-
tions. As all the young grubs have to be fed with animal sub-
stances, usually flies, the reader can easily imagine the havoc
which Wasps make in the insect world. Mr. F. Smith, however,
who has given so much time and labor to this subject, remarks
that as he has never found the cells of the males and females to
contain the remains of more than one lining, these cells only ac-
commodate a single brood.

The silken cover is always convex, and draws the mouth of the
cell into a rounded form, so that if one of the cells is removed
from the comb while the pupa is still within it, the two ends are
of very similar form. The Wasps do not break through the cover
in the same manner. Sometimes they burst their way through
the centre, leaving a rude and rugged opening ; sometimes they
bite out a circular hole, and push their way through it, tearing
the edges as they pass through its substance ; and sometimes they
cut it neatly round the edge, so that the entire covering can be
lifted like the lid of an ancient tankard, and the imprisoned in-
sect is able to emerge without any trouble, the lid closing again
as soon as the inmate has escaped.

The covers of the cells are not precisely perpendicular, but radi-
ate slightly from the centre of each comb or terrace. Nor is the
flooring precisely flat, for the edges of each comb are slightly
raised, so as to form a trifling concavity in the centre. At their
mouths, the cells are perfectly hexagonal — those, at all events,
which occupy the centre of each comb ; but their bases are always
cup-shaped, the walls changing gradually into hexagons as the
cells increase in height, or, to be more accurate, in depth. When
viewed from above, tbe forms of the bases are plainly perceptible,
and they look very like the mosaic teeth in a skate's jaw.

THE WASP. 163

The successive layers of which the cell-walls are composed can
be easily seen when the comb is held to a strong side light ; and
it sometimes happens that the Wasp finds pieces of paper lying
near the nest, bites them to pieces in the same manner that it bites
the wood-fibres, and then uses them for its nest. I have seen a
nest which was made almost entirely of the blue and white paper
used for cartridges, the Wasps having taken advantage of the ex-
pended papers, and used them instead of taking the trouble to
gnaw hard wood. The covering of the nest is of much rougher
texture than the cells themselves, and looks like a number of tiny
oyster-shells piled on each other like the " grotto" of metropoli-
tan children. It is made very simply by laying a lump of the
fibrous paste upon the nest, and sweeping it backward and for-
ward to flatten it, just as a bricklayer spreads a lump of mortar
with his trowel. No attempt is made to smooth the surface, and
the impression of the little architect's head can be seen upon each
successive patch, or tile, if we may so call it.

This woody fibre seems but a flimsy substance for the mate-
rials of a nest which can contain so many individuals. In a large
nest there are always from two to three thousand inhabitants,
more than half that number being the fat and weighty grubs. If
the insects were removed from the nest, and placed in a pair of
scales, their united mass would be so heavy as to cause a feeling
of wonder that so slight a habitation could endure their weight.
The walls, however, are stronger than they seem to be, and the
hexagonal shape of the cells affords such mutual support that the
walls can not only bear the weight of the insects within them,
but, as has already been mentioned, are strong enough to uphold
a series of cells that are suspended to them.

At the end of the season, after successive bands of worker
wasps have passed through the cells, and the single generation
of the males and females has come to maturity, the nest shows
symptoms of dissolution. If there are any grubs still left in the
comb, the workers at once change their behavior. Instead of
feeding and tending them with jealous care, instead of defending
them at the risk of their own lives, they pull these helpless white
things out of their cradles, carry them far out of the nest, and
abandon them. It seems a cruelty, and so it is ; but it is a cruel
mercy, substituting a quick death by exposure, or, perchance, be-
ing eaten by birds, for a slow and lingering death by starvation
within the nest. For the instinct of the workers tells them that

164 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

their labor is over, and their course is run, and that in a short
time they will all die of old age, so that the helpless nurslings in
the cells would find no food, and must perish by starvation.

At last the entire population deserts the- nest, the workers die,
and so do all the males, none of them surviving their brief wed-
lock for more than a few hours; and the majority of the females
die also, some from exposure to cold, and others by a violent
death. Those, however, that are fortunate enough to find a crev-
ice in which they can lie dormant during the long months of
winter, creep into it, and there remain until the following spring,
when they emerge to be the queens and mothers of future colo-
nies. It is a remarkable fact that the Wasp never passes the
winter in the nest, convenient as that spot may seem, but always
seeks some other place of refuge. The reader will now compre-
hend that, whenever a Wasp is seen in the spring-tide, it is one
of the females which have survived the winter, and is about to
found a new colony. Those, therefore, who pride themselves on
their wall-fruit will do well to kill such Wasps, inasmuch as a
single queen Wasp in spring is equivalent to many thousand
Wasps in autumn.

Three species of burrowing Wasps inhabit England — namely,
the common Wasp, which has just been described; the German
Wasp ( Vespa Germanica), distinguished from the preceding spe-
cies by having three black spots at the root of the first ring of the
abdomen ; and the Bed Wasp ( Vespa rufa), known by the black
anchor on the top of the head, and the reddish-yellow limbs.

Mr. F. Smith mentions a very remarkable circumstance con-
nected with the removal of Wasp grubs by the worker. " There
is a point which I have more than once witnessed in the history
of Wasps, which does not appear to have been recorded. In the
spring I have found as many as three nests in a bank, not more
than two hundred yards apart ; and on visiting the spot a month
or so later, I observed no Wasps issuing from the first nest, and,
on digging into the bank, discovered that it was deserted, a single
empty comb alone remaining. I then passed on to the second
nest, and was surprised to observe a few Wasps come out, each
carrying something away ; at length I captured one, and found it
was conveying larvae from the nest. I traced them in their flight,
and was astonished to see a Wasp enter the third nest with a lar-
vae from the nest No. 2.

" Here there is a mystery which time will unravel, but which I

THE WASP. 165

am unable to determine. Were the larvoe carried off to be nursed,
and to add to the swarm, or were they destined to become the food
of the larvae of the nest in the freebooter community ? I have
several times observed that swarms had deserted their nests, but
have only once witnessed any thing which would in any way ac-
count for such a proceeding."

Sometimes the Wasp dispenses with a burrow and becomes a
builder, placing its nest on a beam or under a thatched roof. In
this case the outer shell of the nest is much more handsome than
that which surrounds the subterranean combs, being of a yellow-
ish-brown color, and the individual flakes of which it is composed
being sharply defined. They are more porous than the ordinary
gray flakes of the underground nest, and are less capable of re-
sisting moisture. Before concluding this account of the Wasp
and its nest, I may mention that the character of the insect has
been generally misunderstood. The popular impression is, that
tlie Wasp derives some especial gratification from the act of sting-
ing, is of a savage and malicious disposition, and lives wholly
upon the proceeds of theft. Now, in fact, the Wasp never stings
until it is compelled to do so, either by alarm or when it retali-
ates upon an adversary. It seldom survives the act of stinging,
because the secreted point of its weapon is held in the wound,
and in many cases the entire poison bag and gland are torn out
of the body together with the sting itself. In defense of its home
it can be fierce enough, as indeed it ought to be, and cares noth-
ing for its own life, provided that it can only inflict a wound upon
the enemy.

The reader may perhaps be surprised to hear that Wasps can
be kept as easily as bees, and that, like those insects, they never
injure those with whom they are familiar. Indeed, they are even
less likely to sting than the hive-bees, whose olfactory nerves are
so sensitive that they assault any passenger who happens to have
been recently smoking, or who has used perfume of any kind.
Bees usually treat me very well ; but during the last summer, as
I was looking at a neighboring hive, the bees began to dash past
me with that peculiar menacing sound which always heralds an
attack. Taking warning by the sound, I retired quietly to the
farther end of the garden, but was followed even there by one
pertinacious enemy, who at last made a dash at my face, and
passed on, leaving its sting as a memorial of its anger. I after-
ward discovered that a handkerchief in my breast-coat pocket re

166 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

tained a faint scent of eau de Cologne. Now, if the assailants had
been Wasps instead of bees, a by-stander would assuredly have
considered the attack as a proof of the malignant nature of the
Wasp.

Before taking leave of the earth-burrowing hymenoptera, it
will be necessary to mention two very remarkable insects which
are described by Mr. Bates, in his well-known " Naturalist in the
River Amazon." Neither of the insects have any popular name.

The first is called Monedula signata, and is a handsome-looking
insect, very much resembling an ordinary wasp, and ornamented,
like that insect, with bold black marks on the thorax and abdo-
men. The antennce, however, are twisted, and at once prove that
the creature is but distantly related to the true wasp. The bur-
rows of this insect seem to be made only in the sand-banks which
project above the surface of the river; so that they would not be
discovered by ordinary travelers. Fortunately for the residents
in that part of the country, the Monedula stores its nest with one
of the most obnoxious insects that haunt the Amazon River.
This is the Motuca fly (Hadaas lepidotus), an insignificant-looking
creature, smaller than an ordinary house-fly, and of a bronze-black
color, with the wings of an ashy brown, except a whitish spot near
the tips.

This fly belongs to the well-known family of Tabanidte, and,
like them, is furnished with a very formidable apparatus, by
means of which it obtains its food. Whenever the Motuca can
attack a human being, it dashes at him, settles, and in a moment
drives a broad, sharp-edged lancet through the skin, cutting quite
a gash, and causing the blood to flow fast. Fortunately, the
wound is not very painful, and it is possible that the flowing
blood may be useful in washing out any poison that has been in-
jected. It is of a sluggish nature, and can be easily taken with
the fingers — a very happy circumstance, inasmuch as a dozen
Motuca flies may be seen clustering upon the ankle, just above
the shoe.

The Monedula destroys multitudes of the Motuca flies, and will
travel for half a mile in order to procure its prey, always taking
care to close the entrance of its burrow, and to reopen it on its
return. Mr. Bates mentions that he has been frequently indebted
to the Monedula for saving him from sundry gashes from the
Motuca; and that the Monedula would charge straight toward

THE BEMBEX — ANTS. 167

his face or neck, pick up a Motuca as it was about to settle, and
fly off with it. The fly was not captured with the jaws, but
seized in the first and second pairs of feet

The other burrower is that which is known to entomologists
as Bembex ciliata, and is remarkable for the eager assiduity with
which it plies its labor of love. In color it is shining green ; and
when it has fixed upon a suitable spot for its burrow, it scratches
away the sandy soil with such furious haste, that a nearly con-
tinuous fountain of sand is thrown up behind it. Even after it
has penetrated for two or three inches into the ground, the sandy
stream issues from the orifice, propelled as if by a miniature en-
gine, and being flung under the body by means of the powerful
fore feet with their bristly armature.

"When it has completed its tunnel, which is always driven in a
slanting direction, and from two to three inches in depth, it
emerges from the orifice, walks about for a time, as if to take
bearings of the locality, and then darts off and is lost to sight.
After a while it returns, bringing in its grasp a fly, which is des-
tined to be the food of the young Bembex. Only one fly is
placed in each tunnel, and then the entrance is carefully stopped
up with sand, so that it can not be distinguished from the sur-
rounding soil. It is a remarkable fact that, however many nests
may be made in a sand-bank, and however closely they may be
set, the insect which dug them never mistakes another dwelling
for its own, and always flies directly to the spot which it has se-
lected as the cradle of its posthumous offspring.

Although the ants have been postponed to a future page, a
few words must be given to the insect whose nest will be seen on
the right hand of the plate.

This insect is the Formica compressa of India. Now and then
the nest of this species is above ground, and is made of mud, fast-
ened to trees and leaves; but as in ninety-nine cases out of a
hundred its home is subterranean, it will here be considered as
one of the burrowers.

The section of the nest which is presented to the reader will
give a very good idea of its general structure. There are gener-
ally some five or six entrances to the nest, but they are so ingen-
iously hidden under stones, clods of earth, and any object which
can shelter them, that they would not be detected by a casual
passenger. The few upper passages or galleries are extremely

168 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

irregular, often having a zigzag direction, and being of no very-
great length. Those at a greater depth, however, are much more
regular in their structure, and when they are driven at some three
or four feet from the surface, they are large in diameter, cylin-
drical, and extend to a considerable distance. In the nest of the
British species, Formica fusca, there is a somewhat similar struc-
ture ; and although the ant is so small, these tunnels are some-
times an inch in diameter, and five feet or even more in length.
In these deep-set galleries, the tropical ants retire during the rainy
season, and in our own country the insects may be found in them
throughout the cold months of winter.

Near the surface of the ground, the reader may observe several
enlargements of the galleries, forming spacious chambers. In
these chambers the ants are accustomed to lay the white pupae as
well as the eggs, in order that they may be warmed by the sun,
without enduring the full fury of his beams. At night, if rain
should come on, the vigilant workers take up their helpless
charges, and convey them to hiding-places far beneath the sur-
face. If, during the months of April or May, the nest of the
Dusky Ant be opened, a very curious state of things will be dis-
closed. Within the chamber may be seen a vast mass of pupae
and their attendant ants; and, what is still more remarkable,
specimens of certain beetles may also be found in company with
the ants.

There are several species of British beetles which are never
seen in any other localities, and, until their singular mode of life
was discovered, were ranked among the rarest of our insects. No
less than thirty-seven species of ant's-nest-beetles have already
been acknowledged, besides the larvas of three other species.
One very rare species of the Staphylinidaj, or Cocktail -beetle
(Atemeles emarginatus), has now become quite common, so fre-
quently is it found in the nest of the ant which is now under
consideration. The locality of this beetle was discovered by a
collector, who saw an ant carrying one of the beetles into its nest.
As to the beetles themselves, they seem to be quite as much at
home as the ants, and when the nest is laid open, their first at-
tempt is to escape into the farthest galleries, or to hide themselves
in the nearest crevice. The ants, however, watch them carefully,
run after them, seize them in their jaws, and carry them back
again into the nests.

EUE.RO WING BEETLES. 169

CHAPTER VIII.

BURROWING BEETLES.

The Tiger Beetle and its Habits. — Beauty of the Insect, its Larva, and Mode of
Life. — Curious Form of its Burrow. — The Sexton Beetle and its Power of
digging in the Ground. — The Dor Beetle — its polished Surface, and the Sub-
stances in which it Burrows. — Use of the Dor Beetle. — The Scaraileus of
Egypt and its wonderful Instincts. — The Egg, the Grub, and the Cocoon. — Co-
coon in the British Museum. — The Mole-cricket, its Form and elaborate
Dwelling. — Its general Habits and wide Distribution. — The Field-cricket and
its Tunnels. — Structure of the Ovipositor. — The Migratory Locust and its
Development. — The Ant-lion, its Form, Food, and Mode of Life. — The Pitfall
and its Structure. — Mode of catching Prey. — Perfect Form of the Ant-lion.

"We now come to the Burrowing Beetles, of which there are
no few species. As is the case with the generality of insects, the
subterranean habitations which they excavate are seldom intend-
ed for their own use — at all events, after they have attained their
perfect form ; but are either formed by the parent while prepar-
ing a home for the young brood which it will never see, or by
the larva itself while feeding, or while forming a cell in which it
can lie dormant in the pupal state.

First among the British coleoptera comes the lovely Tiger
Beetle {Cicindela Campestris), an insect which, though small, can
challenge comparison with the most beautiful exotic specimens.
It is the fiercest, handsomest, and most active of all the British
coleoptera, using legs and wings with equal agility, running or
flying with such speed that its form can not be clearly defined,
and settling on the ground or taking to wing with equal ease.
As it darts through the air, the burnished surface of the abdomen
flashes in the sunbeams as if a living gem had passed by, earning
for its owner the popular title of Sparkler Beetle.

This insect is, or rather has been, a mighty burrower, exhibit-
ing, even in its larval condition, something of that fiery energy
which actuates it when it has reached its perfect condition.
Sandy banks are the chief resorts of the Tiger Beetle, which in
this country seems seldom or never to alight upon trees, restrict-
ing itself to bare and sandy soil. It even avoids those spots
which are covered with grass and herbage, cares nothing for

170 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

shade, and delights to settle upon banks with a southern aspect,
and to run about upon soil that has been rendered so hot by the
sun that the bare hand can hardly endure contact with its sur-
face. In America, however, the Tiger Beetles possess different
habits, preferring trees to the ground, and either running about
on the trunk or darting from leaf to leaf in search of their prey.
The English entomologist, however, who wishes to find this bee-
tle, must look for it on the ground ; and near the spots which the
adult beetles traverse so rapidly may be found the larva in its
burrow.

These larvae are most remarkable beings. They are whitish in
color, and strangely moulded in form, the head being of enormous
size, and of a horny consistency, and the eighth segment devel-
oped into a hump-like projection, carrying upon its upper surface
a pair of bent hooks. The larva never is seen above the surface
of the ground, and, indeed, never exhibits more than the smooth
horny head and mandibles. It lives in perpendicular burrows,
about a foot in depth, which it is able to traverse with great ra-
pidity, and which are only just of sufficient diameter to permit
the inhabitant to pass up and down.

It is a carnivorous being, feeding chiefly on insects, which it is
able to capture, in spite of the apparent disadvantage under which
it labors of being confined to one spot. The mode by which it
obtains its daily food is as follows. Ascending to the upper por-
tion of its burrow, it fixes itself firmly by means of its hooks, and
then lays its jaws level with the soil. While in this attitude, it
is almost invisible, and as soon as an insect passes by the am-
bushed larva, the sickle-like jaws grasp it, and it is dragged to
the bottom of the tunnel, where it is devoured. Not only is the
larva carnivorous, but it is combative in proportion to its voraci-
ty, and if a straw be thrust into its burrow, the angry grub will
fasten upon it with the tenacious gripe of a bull-dog, and suffer
itself to be dragged out of its home rather than release its sup-
posed enemy.

The burrow is made by the larva, and not by the parent, and
is a work of some little time, the earth being loosened by means
of the feet and jaws, and then carried to the surface on the flat-
tened head.

Other beetles are in the habit of driving deep tunnels into the
ground, wherein may be deposited the eggs which are destined to

BURROWING BEETLES. 171

produce a fresh brood in the ensuing season. Our own country
can boast of possessing many such beetles, but in the hotter parts
of the world their number is quite wonderful.

Our first example will be the well-known Sexton, or Burying
Beetles, some of which may be seen at work at the left hand of
the plate, busily engaged in burying the dead bird. There are
several species of Burying Beetles ; but as their habits are very
similar, they need not be separately described. Any one who
wishes to see them at work may do so by taking a dead mouse,
bird, or piece of meat, and laying it on a soft spot of ground. I
was about to add the frog to the number of objects for sepulture,
but have omitted that creature because the porous nature of its
skin causes it to dry up so rapidly, that the beetle will seldom
take the trouble of burying it.

Sometimes, but very rarely, a pair of the beetles will come to
it by daylight, their wide wings bearing them along with great
speed ; but in general they prefer night as the time to begin their
work. If the bird be visited in the early morning, it will be no
longer upon the surface of the ground, but will be half sunken
• below it, as though the earth had given way, just as a piece of
dark cloth sinks into snow. If, however, the bird be removed,
the cause of its gradual disappearance will be seen in the form of
one or two beetles, sometimes black, and sometimes beautifully
barred with orange. Then let the bird be replaced, and a trowel
carefully introduced under it, so that the bird and beetles can be
gently transferred to a vessel of earth and then covered with a
glass shade.

During the day the beetles will mostly remain quiet; but in
the evening they begin to be active. To dig a hole, and then to
drag the bird into it, would be a task far beyond their powers,
and they therefore employ another plan. They entirely burrow
beneath the bird, emerging every now and then to scrape out the
loose soil, walk round the bird, mount it as if to see how the work
is proceeding, and then disappear afresh and renew their labors.
Sometimes they dig rather too much on one side, and then they
appear sadly puzzled, running round and round the bird, getting
on it as if to press it down with their weight, pulling it this way
and that way ; and at last they do what they ought to have done
at first, namely, disappear under the bird and scrape away the
earth until the hole is large enough to allow the bird to sink into
the required position.

172 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

The time occupied in the transaction necessarily varies, accord-
ing to the size of the buried object and the condition of the bee-
tle ; but on the average an ordinary finch, or a mouse, can be bur-
ied in the course of a day. When the task is completed, a num-
ber of eggs are laid upon the buried animal, and then the beetles
emerge, cover it with earth, and then fly away. In some cases
they will bury a whole series of corpses ; and in the well-known
experiments of M. Gleiditsch, four beetles buried, in a small piece
of earth, four frogs, three birds, two fishes, one mole, two grass-
hoppers, the entrails of a fish, and two pieces of meat. And so
strong and persevering are these insects, that a single beetle suc-
ceeded in burying a mole in two days. Now the mole is at least
forty times as large as the beetle, so that we can estimate the
strength and perseverance of the beetle by calculating the labor
which would be necessary for a man to inter, in two days, an an-
imal forty times as large as himself.

Perhaps the reader may remember a curious analogy between
the mode of sepulture employed by these beetles, and the mode
of sinking wells in sandy soil. Instead of digging a hole, and
then building a brick lining to it, a circular tower is first built,
and then, by scraping away the sand from within, the workmen
cause it to sink into the ground. When it has sunk sufficiently,
some twelve or fourteen feet are added, and the sand again scraped
out ; and in this manner the brick tube sinks gradually down, and
becomes the lining of the well.

The beetle just mentioned conveys into its burrow the whole
of the substance on which the grub is intended to feed ; but
those which we now shall examine select only a portion for that
purpose. There is a very large tribe of beetles, of which the
British type is the common Dor Beetle {Oeotrupes vulgaris),
sometimes called the Watchman, or Clock, whose heavy hum
drones upon the ear in the evening, as the

"Beetle wheels his drowsy flight,"

and whose hard and notched head occasionally strikes against the
face with a violence less agreeable to the man than to the insect,
the latter being quite undisturbed by the shock.

Catch one of these beetles, and examine the wondrous beauty
of its color, how its polished surface gleams as if made of bur-
nished steel, pure and bright as armor just out of the smith's

BOAEAlUirS.

BUBYING BEETLE.

THE DOR BEETLE. 175

hands. Yet this creature has, in all probability, been burrowing
deeply into the ground, has been meddling with the most noxious
substances, and still retains no trace of its past labors. Save for
the round-bodied yellow parasites that cling to its body, and in-
sert their beaks between the joints of its armor, it is brilliantly
clear. Not a speck of mould remains upon its surface, not a stain
defiles its limbs, neither does it retain the least odor which would
betray its occupation. Other beetles are not so fortunate. The
burying beetles just mentioned are mightily ill-savored insects,
and so are many others with similar habits. But the Dor beetle
is free from such noisomeness, and both the eye and the nostrils
pronounce it pure.

Let us now watch this beautiful insect, as it wheels through
the air. Either by the development of the sense of smell, or by
some sixth sense with which humanity is practically unacquaint-
ed, the beetle is made aware that the object of its search is at
hand. The dull, monotonous buzz is immediately exchanged for
a triumphant hum, the circling flight ceases, and the beetle darts
through the air, with arrow-like rapidity, to the spot which it
seeks. A few more circles, lessening at every round, and down
it settles, on an object uninviting to Europeans, but in great favor
with Hindoos, Kaffirs, and scarabaei, namely, a patch of cow-dung.

No sooner has it settled, than it dives downward until it reach-
es the earth, and then bores a perpendicular hole, some eight inch-
es in depth, and large enough to admit a man's finger. I have
often watched the beetles at their work, and seen them thus en-
gaged, and have turned many a Dor beetle out of the burrow
which it had been so industriously excavating. Having ascend-
ed to the surface, it carries a quantity of the cowdung to the bot-
tom of the burrow, deposits an egg, and ascends, repeating this
process as long as its powers endure. There are several other
British beetles which prepare the cradle for tiieir offspring in a
similar manner.

Merely to dig a hole, to place at the bottom of it the food which
the young are intended to eat, and to fill it in with earth, is a pro-
cess of great simplicity, and makes but few calls on the industry
or ingenuity of the laborer. Some allied beetles there are, how-
ever, which feed their young on similar substances, and in like
manner bury them in the earth, but which exercise extraordinary
industry in the performance of the task. All the world has heard
of the famous Scarab^eus of the Egyptians {Scarabceus sacer), an

176 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

insect which is found in many parts of the globe, and very much
resembles the Dor beetle of our own country. This insect sets to
work in a curiously systematic manner.

As soon as the sensitive organs of the Scarabseus announce to
it that the desired substance is at hand, it proceeds to the spot,
alights, and sets at once to work. First, it sinks a tolerably deep
and perpendicular hole in the ground, and, having returned to the
cow-dung, it separates a sufficient quantity for its purpose, lays an
egg in it, and forms it into a rude ball. She, for the female in-
sect is the worker, then begins a curious and laborious task.
Seizing the ball between her hind feet, she begins to roll it about
in the hot sunshine, not taking it direct to the shaft which she
has sunk, but remaining near the spot. Should rain come on she
ceases to roll, or should the ball be made just before sunset, she
waits for the morning before recommencing her labor. The con-
sequence of all this curious rolling about is twofold; it accelerates
the hatching of the inclosed egg by the exposure to the sunbeams,
and it forms a thin, hard, clay-like crust round the soft material in
which the egg reposes.

When the ball is sufficiently rolled, it is taken to the hole,
dropped down, and the earth filled in. The egg is very soon
hatched, and from it proceeds a little white grub, which finds it-
self at once in the midst of food, and begins to eat vigorously.
By the time it has devoured the whole of the contents of its co-
coon— if the mere empty shell may be so called — it is ready for
its change into the pupal form, and there lies in the earth until it
again changes its form and becomes a perfect beetle.

If the reader will refer to the rilate, he will there see two of
these beetles at work upon a ball, for it is not an unusual circum-
stance that two insects should propel the same ball. And upon
the accompanying illustration may be seen the completed cocoon.

Several good examples of this cocoon are in the British Mu-
seum, as well as those belonging to allied insects.

Frequently the beetle is very much puzzled to discover a place
wherein it may dig a hole for the reception of the ball, especially
where the ground is uniformly hard. The mater^il which it de-
sires is generally to be found plentifully upon roads, but as roads
are usually too hard to be penetrated by the beetle's limbs, the
unfortunate insects may be seen rolling their pellets with a patient
and hopeless industry only to be equaled by that of Sisyphus. I
may perhaps mention in this place that an allied species living in

cocoons. 177

America is popularly called the tumble-bug — the latter inappro-
priate monosyllable being indiscriminately used for every insect
that even looks like a beetle.

There is also in the British Museum one enormous cocoon
made of clay. It is almost the size of a six-pounder cannon-ball,
with walls of such thickness that the hollow in its centre is bare-
ly the size of a crab-apple. The weight of this cocoon is enor-
mous, when the size of its inmate is considered, and that so com-
paratively small a beetle should construct and roll so large a ball
seems almost incredible. The beetle belongs to the genus Copris.
There is the cocoon of another species of Copris, but in this case
" the walls are very thin, and the entire ball would go into the hol-
low of that which has just been described. A British beetle,
Geotrupes vernalis, also makes a cocoon about the size of that
which has just been mentioned. It is made of mixed clay and
cow-dung, and specimens may be seen in the Museum.

Cocoons of ScaraLtuus and Goliath.

Perhaps the most extraordinary of these cocoons is that which
is represented in the illustration. This is made by one of the
gigantic beetles of the tropics. The insect which made it has no
English name, but is scientifically called Goliathus Drurii. This
wonderful cocoon is as large as a swan's egg, and, as may be seen
by reference to the illustration, has very thin walls in proportion
to its size. It is strengthened by a remarkable belt, which runs
around its centre, exactly like that of the bullet which is used for
the two-grooved rifle. How the belt is formed is perfectly un-
known, as is its use, unless the strengthening of the walls be its
only object. I have carefully examined the cocoon itself, and

M

178 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

specimens of the insect which made it, and can find nothing
which affords the least clew to the difficulty.

There is no doubt as to the species of insect which made it, for
the creature lies inside, a small portion of the ends of the elytra
and part of one leg being visible through the fracture. The color
of the beetle is peculiarly beautiful, being rich dark chocolate, soft
and deep as made of velvet, and upon the thorax and round the
elytra are drawn broad streaks of creamy white. On account of
the large dimensions of the cocoon, it has necessarily been reduced
in size, but a common house-fly is introduced into the drawing, in
order to show the comparative size of the cocoon and the insect.

Many of the Orthopterous insects are burrowers, either digging
holes wherein they themselves reside, or preparing a subterranean
habitation for their young.

The best known and most important of these insects is the
Mole -cricket (Gryllotalpa vulgaris), called in some places the
Croaker, or Churr-worm, on account of the peculiar sound
which it produces. It is a truly wonderful insect — one of those
beings which, for the sake of force, we may perhaps call the anom-
alies of nature, though, in fact, nature is perfectly harmonious, and
can have no real anomalies. A cursory glance at the insect will
at once point out its habits, for the general shape, as well as the
strange development of the fore limbs, and the peculiar formation
of the first pair of feet, are so similar to the corresponding mem-
bers of the mole that the identity of their pursuits is at once evi-
dent.

Like the mole, the insect passes nearly the whole of its life un-
derground, digging out long passages by means of its spade-like
limbs, and traversing them with some swiftness. Like the mole,
it is fierce and quarrelsome, is even ready to fight with its kind,
and, if victorious, always tears to pieces its vanquished opponent.
Like the mole, it is exceedingly voracious, and requires so much
food, that if several of them be confined in the same cage and
kept only for a short time without food, the strongest will fall
upon the weakest, kill and devour them. Like the mole, also, it
is useful enough in the fields, where its tunnels form a kind of
subsoil drainage, but it is equally destructive in the garden, work-
ing great havoc among young plants and flowers. One species
that inhabits Jamaica has done great damage to the young sugar-
canes soon after they had begun to shoot up.

THE MOLE-CRICKET. 179

Though spread over the face of the earth, and though almost
every portion of the globe can boast its Mole-cricket, it is ever a
local insect, being very fastidious in its choice of soil, and gener-
ally preferring a loose and sandy ground, wherein it can easily
burrow. There is a little village near Oxford where the Mole-
cricket is frequently found, its favorite residence being a wide
piece of waste ground, covered with sand, which in some places
is blown into hillocks by the wind, and in another is hollowed
into pits by the sand-man's spade. Grass tries to grow at inter-
vals, and here and there its spreading roots bind together the
loose soil, and it is in this curious locality that the Mole-cricket
loves to dwell.

To procure the insect is no easy matter, for it always burrows
to some considerable depth when the soil is so loose, and a la-
borer with a spade would find much difficulty in disinterring it.
The recognized method of procuring these insects is, to mark
their holes by day and to visit them at dusk, just when the in-
sects, which, are nocturnal in their habits, are beginning to be
lively. A long and pliant grass-blade is then pushed into the
hole, the end is grasped in the jaws of the offended inhabitant,
and both grass-blade and Mole-cricket are drawn out together.
By some persons the Mole-cricket is thought to be a wholly car-
nivorous insect, injuring the roots merely by its endeavoring to
force a passage through, them, and not by its desire to eat them.
This theory was supported by sundry experiments, whereby the
Mole-cricket was proved to be able to subsist on several sub-
stances, such as meat and insects, specimens having been fed upon
ants alone. Dr. Kidcl, however, found that they thrive well upon
potato, and the best entomologists have decided that vegetable
food is their proper diet, though they are able to eat animal food,
and on some occasions seem to prefer it. A very decided proof
that the Mole-cricket is, even in its wild state, a carnivorous be-
ing, is afforded by the fact that in the stomach have been found
the relics of various insects.

Just as the mole constructs a habitation distinct from its ordi-
nary galleries, so does this insect form a chamber for domestic
purposes apart from the tunnels which ramify in so many direc-
tions. Near the surface of the ground a really large chamber is
constructed, measuring about three inches in diameter, and nearly
one inch in height. ■ It is made very neatly, and the walls are
carefully smoothed. Within this chamber the Mole-cricket de-

180 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

posits its eggs, which are generally from two to three hundred in
number, and yellowish in color. As the chamber lies so near the
surface of the ground, the genial sunbeams are able to raise the
temperature sufficient for the hatching of the eggs, which in due
course of time produce the tiny young, little white creatures, very
like the parent in shape, except that they have no wings. They
do not attain the perfect state until the third year. The reader
will at once see that this chamber is analogous to the cavities
made by the Dusky Ant, which has been described on page 168.

It is a rather remarkable fact that one species of this family
burrows, not into earth, but into wood. Its form very much re-
sembles that of the wood-burrowing beetles, the body being long
and cylindrical, the legs very short and fitting into cavities at the
sides of the body. Its scientific name is Cylindrodes Campbellii.
This is one of the oddest-looking insects that can be conceived,
and really bears no small resemblance to three inches of a black-
lead pencil.

The black -bodied Field • cricket (Acheta campestris) is also
one of the burrowing Orthoptera, working tunnels of consider-
able depth, and living in them during the day. By night it
comes out of its home and sits at the mouth, chirping away for
hours together. The banks at the side of a road or lane are
favorite resorts of the Field-cricket, and I have noticed the insect
peculiarly plentiful in the roads and lanes between Eamsgate and
Margate. Like the mole-cricket, it is of a very combative nature,
and may be drawn out of its tunnel by the simple process of push-
ing a grass-stem down the burrow. It is said that in France it is
captured in rather a curious manner, an ant being tied to a thread
and dropped into the hole. Being partly carnivorous, the cricket
seizes the ant for the purpose of eating it, and is immediately
dragged out of its house by the thread.

In the accompanying illustration is shown one of the well-
known grasshoppers in the act of depositing its eggs. Its popu-
lar name is the "Wart-biter, and its scientific title Oryllus [or
Decticus] verrucivorus, this name being given to it because its bite
is thought to have the property of removing warts.

If the reader will refer to the illustration, he will see that the
end of the body is furnished with a long, double-bladed instru-
ment, technically called the ovipositor, or egg -layer. This cu-
rious instrument, which is of course only found in the female in-

THE GRYLLUS.

181

sect, is of very great comparative length, and is used for the pur-
pose of placing the eggs in a convenient spot. Pressed closely
together, the blades form an admirable boring instrument, but
when the required hole is made, the blades separate so as to per-
mit an egg to pass between them, and guide it to the exact spot
where it is to lie. The insect does not place many eggs in one

Uryllug depositing Kgg3.

spot, but after depositing some ten or twelve eggs, she goes off to.
another locality and repeats the process until her store is ex-
hausted. She thus contrives to spread her offspring rather wide-
ly over the ground, and avoids the danger of losing the. entire
brood by a single accident.

"When the young insects are first hatched, they are nearly
white, and of very small dimensions, being no larger than ordi-
nary gnats. At the left hand of the engraving may be seen a
small cavity, in which the young Grylli have just been hatched,
several of them being shown of their natural size. The well-
known Great Green Grasshopper, which is sometimes found in
our hedges and nut-trees, and so often frightens the ignorant, is
closely allied to the insect which has just been described, and
has very similar habits. .

The terrible Migratory Locust, which passes over the country
in such countless hosts, is also a partial burro wer, laying its eggs

182 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

beneath the surface of the ground. It is stated by one natural-
ist that the eggs are placed in cells something like the chambers
of the mole-cricket, the cell itself being about an inch and a half
deep, and the entrance to it being a nearly 'horizontal tube of
earth, coated with a kind of glutinous secretion. Sometimes the
eggs themselves are enveloped with this glutinous substance, and
are stuck together in masses of determinate shape. South Ameri-
ca is peculiarly rich in these egg-masses, many varieties of which
may be seen in Mr. Waterton's collection. The young do not at-
tain their wings for three years, and during that period are called
in Southern Africa by the popular and expressive name of voet-
gangers, or foot-goers.

Before leaving the earth -burro wers, it is necessary to mention
the larva of the common May-fly, or Ephemera. Sometimes this
larva hides itself under stones, but it often burrows "under the
muddy banks, and there constructs a very curious habitation.
If a portion of the mud be carefully removed, it will be seen to
be perforated by a series of holes, a few being nearly circular,
but the greater part oval, the long diameter being horizontal, in
order to suit the peculiar shape of the inhabitant.

These are the habitations of the Ephemera grub ; and if the
block of mud be laid open, so as to exhibit longitudinal sections
of the holes, the spectator will perceive that each hole is double,
the two tubes lying parallel to each other, and being in fact only
one tube bent upon itself.

Mr. J. Rennie, in his "Insect Architecture," mentions a curious
modification of these tubes : " In the bank of the stream at Lee,
in Kent, we had occasion to take up an old willow stump, which,
previous to its being driven into the bank, had been perforated in
numerous places by the caterpillar of the goat moth (Cossus ligni-
perda). From having been driven among the moist clay, these
perforations became filled with it, and the grubs of the Ephemera
found them very suitable for their habitations ; for the wood sup-
plied a more secure protection than if their galleries had been ex-
cavated in the clay. In these holes of the wood we found several
empty, and some in which were full-grown grubs."

Our last example of the earth-burrowing insects is a truly re-
markable one. It is scarcely possible to conceive any mode of
life more curious than that which is passed by the insect which

THE ANT-LION. 183

now comes before our notice — a mode of life so strange and
unique, that if it had been related by one observer only, no mat-
ter how trustworthy he might have been, his testimony would
have been rejected by nearly every man of science. I allude to
the celebrated insect known as the Ant-lion {My rmeleon formica-
ruts). In its mature state it presents nothing worthy of remark, ex-
cept, perhaps, the elegance of its form, and the delicacy of its wide
gauzy wings, which much resemble those of the common Dragon-
fly. But in its larval condition it is truly a wonderful being.

Though predaceous, and feeding chiefly on the most active in-
sects, it is itself slow, and totally unable to chase them ; and were
it not furnished with some quality which serves it in the lieu of
speed, it would soon die of hunger. The very look of the larva
is enough to make the observer marvel as to its method of ob-
taining food. Thick, short, soft, and fleshy, the body is supported
on six ve*ry feeble legs, of which the hinder pair only are em-
ployed for locomotion, and these can only drag it slowly back-
ward. Indeed, the general outline of the body and head bears
no small resemblance to that of a fat-bodied garden spider. So
feeble are its limbs, that they are practically of very little use in
locomotion, and even when they are cut off, the creature can
move nearly as well as when they were in their places. From
the front of the head project a pair of long, slender, curved man-
dibles, which give the first intimation that the grub has any thing
formidable in its nature. These mandibles are curiously made,
being deeply grooved throughout their length, and permitting the
maxilla?, or inner pair of jaws, to play up and down them.

Inert and helpless as it may seem, this grub is a ruthless cle-
stro}^er of the more active insects, and, moreover, seldom catches
any but the most active. Choosing some sandy spot, where the
soil is as far as possible free from stones, it begins to form the
celebrated pitfalls by which it is enabled to entrap ants and other
insects. Depressing the end of its abdomen, and crawling back-
ward in a circular direction, it traces a shallow trench, the circle
varying from one to three inches in diameter. It then makes an-
other round, starting just within the first circle, and so it proceeds,
continually scooping up the sand with its head, and jerking it out-
side the limits of its trench. By continuing this process, and al-
ways tracing smaller and smaller circles, the grub at last com-
pletes a conical pit, and then buries itself in the sand, holding the
mandibles widely extended.

184 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

Should an insect, an ant, for example, happen to pass near the
pitfall, it will be sure to go and look into the cavity, partly out of
the insatiable curiosity which distinguishes ants, cats, monkeys,
and children, and partly out of a desire to obtain food. No soon-
er has the ant approached the margin of the pitfall, than the
treacherous soil gives way, the poor insect goes tumbling and
rolling down the yielding sides of the pit, and falls into the ex-
tended jaws that are waiting for it at the bottom. A smart bite
kills the ant, the juices are extracted, and the empty carcass is
jerked out of the pit, and the Ant-lion settles itself in readiness
for another victim.

Sometimes, when a more powerful insect, such as a large wood-
ant, or beetle, or perhaps a hunting spider, happens to fall into
the pit, the Ant-lion does not obtain a meal on such easy terms.
The victim has no idea of surrendering at discretion, but tries to
scramble up the sides of the pit, and in its furious exertions, it
brings down the sand in torrents, filling up the pit, making the
slope of the sides shallower, and so rendering its escape easy.
Then there is a battle between the Ant-lion and its intended
prey, the one bringing the sand into the pit and the other fling-
ing it out again so as to restore the steepness of the sides, and to
deepen the pit.

Sometimes a quantity of the sand flung by the Ant-lion hap-
pens to fall on the escaping victim, knocks it over, and enables
the devourer to grasp it in the terrible jaws, which never open
but to reject the dead and withered carcasses; sometimes the in-
sect is tired before the Ant-lion, and suffers itself to be captured ;
and sometimes, though very rarely, it succeeds in making its es-
cape. In either case, the pitfall is quite out of shape, and instead
of rearranging it, the Ant-lion deserts it and makes another.
Some writers have said that the Ant-lion flings the sand at its
escaping prey with deliberate aim and intention. It does noth-
ing of the kind, but only tosses the sand out as fast as its head
can work, without aiming in any direction, or having an idea ex-
cept to prevent the pit from being filled up.

Its earth-burrowing life does not cease until it assumes the per-
fect state. "When it has passed its full time in the larval condi-
tion, and is about to change into a pupa, it spins a silken cocoon
of a globular form, and therein remains until it is about to as-
sume its perfect condition. The pupa then bites a hole through
the side of the cocoon, and projects its body half out of the aper-

THE ANT-LION. 185

ture. The pupal skin then withers, bursts, and the perfect insect
emerges. Scarcely has it taken the first few breaths of air, than
its abdomen, which before was short, so as to be included within
the cocoon, extends to nearly three times its original length, so
as to resemble that of the dragon-fly ; the curious antennae unroll
themselves, the wings shake out by degrees their beautiful folds,
and in a short time the lovely insect is ready for flight. It is
scarcely possible to imagine a more complete contrast than that
which is exhibited by the larva and the perfect insect, and if the
two were placed side by side, no one who was not aware of the
circumstances would think that they are but two stages of the
same insect.

If the reader will refer to the illustration on page 148, he will
see a section of the pitfall, with the Ant-lion at the bottom, and
a couple of ants falling into the trap. The Ant-lion belongs to
the same order of insects as the dragon-fly, which it so much re-
sembles.

186 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

CHAPTER IX.

WOOD-BORING INSECTS.

Beetles. — The usual Form of the Wood-borers. — The Scolytus and its Ravages.
— Mode of forming the Tunnels. — Curious Instinct. — Theories respecting the Scol-
ytus.— Worm-eaten Furniture, its Cause, and the best Method of checking the
Boring Insects. — Ginger and Cork Borers. — The "Petrified" Man. — The Meal-
worm and its Ravages. — Weevils. — The Palm Weevil of Jamaica. — Its Devel-
opment, and Uses as an Edible. — Its Cocoons. — The Wasp Beetle, its Shape,
Colors, and tunneling Powers. — The Musk Beetle. — Its Beauty and Fragrance.
— Difficulty of detecting the Musk Beetle. — Its Burrows and their Inmates. —
The Rhagium and its Cocoon. — The Harlequin Beetle. — Wood-boring Bees. —
Willow Bee, its Tunnel, and Mode of making the Cells. — Food of the Young.
— The Poppy Bee. — The Pith-boring Bees and their Habits. — Structure of the
Cells and Escape of the Young. — Economy of Labor. — Shell-nests of Bees. —
Wonderful adaptation to Circumstances. — How the Bee burrows. — The Hoop-
shaver Bee. — Gilbert White's Description of its Habits. — The Sirex and its
Burrow. — Its Ravages among Fig-trees. — Formidable Aspect of the Insect. — The
two British Species. — Carpenter Bee. — Mode of making its Burrow. — Method-
ical Labor. — Food of the Young. — How to make a Ceiling. — Number of Cells in
each Burrow. — The Carpenter Bee of Australia. — The Pelop^us as a Wood-
borer. — Its Tunnel, and Mode of making Cells. — The Saperda. — Damage caused
to Aspen and other Trees. — A useful Parasite. — The Goat Moth. — Wood-leopard
Moth. — Clear-wings and Honey-comb Moths.

We now leave the earth-burrowers, and proceed to those in-
sects which tunnel into wood and other substances. The Hy-
menoptera are again the best burrowers in wood as they are in
the earth, but, as some of the beetles are notable wood-borers,
and we shall only mention a few of them, we will take them first
in order.

Beetles generally burrow while in their larval state, though
there are some that do so when they have attained their perfect
form, and are able to bore their way through wood or into the
, ground with wonderful ease. All the boring beetles are formed
in such a manner that an entomologist can at once detect their
habits from their shape. The combination of the cylinder and
the sharp-edged screw is well known to be the best form of bor-
ing-tool, whether under the name of auger, gimlet, or centre-bit,
and it will be found that the harder the substance into which the
insect burrows, the more cylindrical is its shape. The dors,

SCOLYTUS.

187

clocks, and other earth-boring beetles, depart from that form, but
when we come to look at the scolytus, the ptinus, and other
wood-borers, we can not but notice how very cylindrical they are
in their shape.

Perhaps there is no wood-boring beetle which is known so
well as the little insect which is called Scolytus destructor. I am
not aware that it has a popular name that will distinguish it from
other small beetles which bore into wood.

Scolytus.

The accompanying illustration will probably call to the mind
of the reader the insect which now comes before our notice. If
he should have examined the bark of certain trees, particularly
that of the elm, he will often have seen that it is perforated with
circular holes, very like those which are drilled into worm-eaten
furniture, but of rather larger diameter. When I was a very lit-
tle boy and first saw these holes, I thought that they had been
made by shot, and in trying to pick out the shot with my knife,,
made the discovery that the holes were not due to fire-arms, but
to insects. The pleasure of the discovery nearly compensated for
the disappointment concerning the shot, the possession of which
seemed to my boyish mind to be a manly trait of character, and
calculated to raise me in the eyes of my playfellows.

If the bark be cut through, and then raised with the knife, the

188 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

curious radiating system of tunnels will be exposed to view, and
the observer will notice that, however these tunnels may vary in
size and direction, they all agree in these points ; firstly, that they
radiate nearly at right angles from a single cylindrical tunnel;
and secondly, that they are very small at their base, and gradual-
ly increase to their termination. The cause of this formation is
as follows :

The mother insect enters the bark in search of food, and bur-
rows deeply into the tree, sometimes boring into the substance of
the wood itself, but generally cutting a tunnel between the wood
and the bark. She then deposits her eggs regularly along the
cylindrical tunnels, and in most cases retreats to the entrance, and
there dies, her body forming a natural stopper. In due time "the
eggs are hatched, producing a number of very minute white grubs,
which immediately begin to feed, the substance of the tree being
the only diet of this insect in every stage of existence. Urged by
a wonderful instinct, each grub arranges its body at a right angle
with the burrow in which it was hatched, and so eats its way
steadily outward.

When the grubs have made some progress, the wisdom of this
arrangement becomes evident. As they increase in size, the bur-
rows necessarily increase with them, so that if they had all started
parallel with each other, the tunnels would coalesce and the grubs
be unable to procure their proper amount of food. As, however,
the tunnels radiate like the spokes of a wheel, they very seldom
interfere with each other, their radiation more than keeping pace
with their increasing size. It will easily be seen by reference to
the illustration, that if a number of these beetles attack a tree, the
bark is gradually separated from the woody portion, and that, as
in all exogeneous trees the nourishment is derived from the bark,
the tree must die as soon as the functions of the bark are sus-
pended.

Settlers in any new colony are well aware of this fact, and when
they want to kill a tree, they do so by simply removing a rather
wide ring of bark from the trunk, and thus cutting off the supply
of nourishment. The tree is thus starved to death, and in the
following year, a fire applied to the trunk is able to burn it
through, and bring down the tree with scarcely any expenditure
of labor by the settlers. This mode of killing a tree is technical-
ly called "girdling" it. In proportion, therefore, to the amount
of bark removed, the tree sickens, from defective nourishment,

SCOLYTUS — PTILINUS. 189

and if once the bark be separated all round the trunk, the tree
■will instantly die.

The reader may probably be aware that some of our most skill-
ful naturalists have thought that the Scolytus is not so culpable
an insect as is generally supposed, and that it does not attack
trees until their race is run, and they have begun to show symp-
toms of decay. There is great truth in this conjecture, for it is
beyond a doubt that if a tree be seriously injured, and begin to
droop, the Scolytus is sure to make a lodgment before very long.
Girdled trees, for example, are almost always attacked by this
beetle as soon as the effects of the injury are apparent. But,
though the female may not lay her eggs in healthy trees, there is
little doubt but that she and her mate have aided, in no small
degree, in bringing the tree to so diseased a condition. For, as
has already been mentioned, the food of the adult, as well as of
the imperfect insect, consists of the bark and wood, and in boring
the tree for the purpose of feeding, the numerous Scoly ti can but
enfeeble its constitution, and so bring it to that state of ill health
which renders it a fit cradle for the immature beetles.

There is hardly a grove or a park in the neighborhood of
London where the ravages of the Scolytus are not painfully ap-
parent, and in Greenwich Park especially, some of the finest trees
are riddled with the cylindrical tunnels of this destructive insect.
There are several species of Scolytus, each affecting certain trees,
so that there is scarcely any tree that can hope to escape from the
jaws of some member of this famity.

The well-known worm-eaten appearance of furniture is caused
by certain beetles belonging to another family. As may be seen
from the dimensions of the tunnels, the insects are very small,
and their bodies are nearly cylindrical. The ravages which these
beetles cause are fatal to all who happen to possess old furniture,
but Mr. Westwood mentions that one common species, Ptilinus
pedinicornis, completely destroyed a new bedpost in the short
space of three years. There is but one known method of killing
the insects which have already taken possession, and of preventing
others from following their example, namely, by injecting a solu-
tion of corrosive sublimate into the holes, and then treating the
whole of the surface with the same poisonous liquid. I need per-
haps scarcely mention, that insects which are popularly called
Death-watches, belong to this family. Not only do furniture

190 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

and timber suffer from the attacks of the Ptilinus, but articles of
dress and food are also injured by them. Specimens of natural
history are often spoiled by the holes which are drilled through
them by the beetles; and stationers sometimes suffer from the
voracious insects, which bore holes through their wafers, fix them
together, and there undergo their transformations within them.
One species is obnoxious to wholesale druggists on account of the
damage which it does to the ginger. In some cases, half the
ginger is drilled with holes, and rendered quite unsalable. It
is not, however, lost entirely, because it is reserved for the mill,
and is then sold as ground ginger, the insects and their grubs
being reduced to powder together with the ginger which they
have not consumed. Such specimens are of course not exhibited
to the general gaze, as the public would be very cautious of pur-
chasing ground ginger if they knew what it contained. In the
British Museum, however, may be seen several pieces of ginger
completely eaten away by the beetle, and numerous examples of
the insect itself are placed in the same tray. The little beetles
which eat cork, and are so mischievous in the cellar, belong to
the genus Mycetophagus. They will eat rotten wood or fungi,
but always prefer cork, and in some cases have not only caused
much expense by forcing the proprietor to recork all his bottles,
but have sometimes destroyed the cork so completely, that the
wine has escaped.

The reader may remember that a so-called "petrified man"
was brought from Australia, and exhibited in London during
1862. Having very great doubts about the petrifaction of a
human being, I went to see it, and at a glance perceived that it
was no petrifaction at all, but simply a moderately good example
of a desiccated body, such as are common enough in museums,
and sometimes occur even in this country. The exhibitor stoutly
asserted that it was a petrifaction, but as I noticed the tunnels
of sundry Ptilini in various parts of the head, body, and limbs,
there could be no doubt but that the body had not been changed
into stone.

Cylindrical holes of small size may be often seen in the bark
of oak-trees, from which dart certain long-bodied little beetles,
with beautifully-fringed antennae, and shaped much like the com-
mon skip-jack beetles. These insects belong to the genus Melasis.

The common Meal-worm may be placed with the wood-borers,
for it is able to gnaw its way through almost any bread that can

THE PALM WEEVIL. 191

be made, and, as sailors too well know, feeds upon ship-biscuit,
and drills it full of holes. Old sailors can never eat a biscuit
without mechanically knocking it on the table, a custom which
they have learned on long voyages, serving to shake the " mag-
gots" out of the biscuit. The meal-worm is the larva of a beetle,
called Tenebrio molitor, a long-bodied, small-headed insect, with
very long wing-cases, and very slender and rather short antennae.
To bird-fanciers it is invaluable, serving to keep in health the
nightingale and several other delicate birds, and those who keep
vivaria are also indebted to the meal-worm, as affording food to
sundry of the lizard tribe. Even the perfect insect will eat the
biscuit, and is nearly as voracious as the larva.

There is a genus of weevils called Calandra, which is remarka-
ble for the great diversity of size among its members, some, such
as the dreaded grain weevil of England {Calandra granaria), being
very small, and scarcely exceeding the eighth of an inch in length ;
and another, the Palm Weevil (Calandra palrnarum), being a
really large beetle, nearly two inches in length. This insect is
equally injurious to the sugar-cane and the palm-tree, the larva
burrowing into the centre of the plant and eating away its sub-
stance. This larva is very large, very fat, and very heavy, and
is slightly curved. The natives consider it as one of their great-
est delicacies, and have some peculiar fashion of cooking it. They
call it by the name of Grugru.

While I was examining the beautiful collection of insect habi-
tations in the British Museum, a gentleman looked on, and pres-
ently pointed to a larva, apparently that of some sphinx-moth,
and saying that he knew the insect well, and had often eaten it,
stating at the same time that it was taken out of a palm-tree.
The label attached to the specimen corroborated this assertion in
a measure, for the palm-tree was the locality from which it had
been taken.

This larva, which is called Tuchuto — I spell the name phonet-
ically, my informant never having seen the word in print — is eaten
either cooked or raw, the latter being the usual method among
gourmands, who think that, like an oyster, the Tuchuto ought to
be eaten without any aid from the fire. The correct mode of
eating it is, to hold it neatly by the head, between the finger and
thumb, to put the whole of the body into the mouth, and then to
bite it off, just as a strawberry' is eaten, and its flavor much re-

192 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

sembles that of marrow. The grubs are procured in the following
manner : A cabbage-palm is cut down, and allowed to lie for at
least a fortnight ; at the expiration of that time, the palm is split
open, and in the interior are found the Tuchuto grubs.

To return to the Palm Weevil. When the great, unwieldy larva
has attained its full growth, it constructs a large cocoon, made of
the stringy fibres which run along the stem of the palm, twisted
and intertwined so as to form a strong place of refuge during the
time of its helplessness. It is a remarkable fact, that many wood-
boring insects are in the habit of inclosing themselves in a strong
cocoon before they change into the pupal condition, though the
locality in which they live might seem to render them independ-
ent of any such protection. It is, however, very possible that the
object of the cocoon may be to save the inhabitant from some
other wood-boring insect, which might happen to drive its tunnel
through the helpless pupa, and that the cocoon might contain some
ingredients which are distasteful to the intruder, and would com-
pel it to turn aside and choose another path. Were it not for
some such protection, another insect might get into the burrow
made by the weevil grub, follow it up, come upon the pupa while
still inert and incapable of resistance, and either eat it, or at all
events inflict a serious injury upon it.

There is a large group of beetles, which, in consequence of
their extremely long antennae, are called by the name of Longi-
cornes. In some species the antennas attain a wonderful length,
as for example, in Lamia cedilis, the antennae of which are five
times as long as the head and body together. We have several
examples in our own country, some of them being remarkable for
the beauty of their colors, as well as for the elegance of their forms.
The common Wasp Beetle {Clytus arielis) is a very good example
of the longicorn beetles. It may be seen upon the hedges, gently
slipping in and out with a curiously fussy movement, that very
much resembles the restless gestures of the insect from which it
takes its name. Its slender shape and yellow-striped body are
indeed so wasp-like, that many persons are afraid to touch one of
these beetles lest they should be stung.

The early life of the Wasp Beetle is spent entirely in darkness,
the grubs burrowing into wood, and therein undergoing their trans-
formations. They are curious little beings, white, roundish, but
flattened; the rings of which the body is made are deeply marked,

THE MUSK BEETLE. 198

the segments nearest the head are much larger than those which
compose the abdomen, and the head itself is small, but armed with
a pair of jaws that remind the observer of wire nippers, so sharp
are their edges, and so stout is their make. Old posts and rails
are favorite localities with this beetle, and the grubs can almost
always be obtained where timber has been left for any length of
time in the open air.

Another well-known boring-beetle is the large and beautiful
insect which is popularly called the Musk Beetle {Cerambyx
moschatus). Nearly an inch in length, with long and gracefully-
curved antenna?, and slender and elegant in shape, it would always
command attention, even if it were not possessed of two remarka-
ble characteristics, color and perfume.

To the naked eye, and in an ordinary light, the color of this
beetle is simply green, very much like that of the malachite. But,
when the sun shines upon its elytra, some indications of its true
beauty present themselves, not to be fully realized without the aid
of the microscope and careful illumination. If a part of an elytron
be taken from a Musk Beetle, placed under a half-inch object glass,
and viewed through a good binocular microscope, by means of
concentrated light, the true glories of this magnificent insect be-
come visible. The general color is green, but few can describe the
countless shades of green, gold, and azure, that are brought out by
the microscope, and no pencil can hope to give more than a faint
and dull idea of the wonderful object. Neither do its beauties end
with its colors, for the whole structure of the insect is full of
wonders, and from the compound eyes to the brush-soled feet, it
affords a series of objects to the microscopist, which will keep him
employed for many an hour.

The odor which it exudes is extremely powerful ; so strong, in-
deed, that I have often been attracted by the well-known perfume
as I walked along a tree-fringed wood, and, after a little search, dis-
covered the insect. It is no easy matter to find the Musk Beetle,
even when it is close at hand, for its slender body lies so neatly
along the twigs, and its green color harmonizes so well with the
leaves, that a novice will seldom distinguish the insect. A prac-
ticed eye, however, looks out for the antennas, and is at once at-
tracted by their waving grace. By a series of experiments which
I have made on this beetle, I have proved that the scent can be
retained or emitted at the will of the insect, and it is a rather re-

N

194

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

markable fact, that it is often stronger after the death of the beetle
than during its life. The Musk Beetle is easily kept alive, pro-
vided that it is well supplied with water, and that a little sugar
and water be occasionally given to it. The mode of feeding is
very curious, as are many of the habits of the insect.

The larva of the Musk Beetle is a mighty borer, making holes
into which an ordinary drawing-pencil could be passed. Old and
decaying willow-trees are its favorite resort, and in some places
the willows are positively riddled with the burrows. If such a
tree be sawn open longitudinally, a curious scene is presented to
the spectator. In some spots, the interior is hollowed out by nearly
parallel burrows, until it looks as if it had been tunneled by the
ship-worm, while sections are made of burrows that turn suddenly
aside, or gradually diverge toward the yet uneaten parts of the
timber. In some of the holes will be found the long white grubs,
in others the pupa may be seen lying quiescent, while a perfect
beetle or two may possibly be discovered near the entrance of the
holes. Nor are the Musk Beetles the only tenants of the tree, for
there is generally an assemblage of wood-lice, centipedes, and other
dark-loving creatures, which have crawled into the deserted holes,
and taken up their abode within the tree.

If the reader will refer to the accompanying illustration, he will
see that in the upper right-hand corner is represented a beetle

IUmgium, etc.

HARLEQUIN BEETLE — ROSE-CUTTER BEE. 195

within a curiously-woven cell. This beetle belongs to the genus
Khagium. As long as the insect remains in its larval condition,
it differs in little from the wood-boring larva. When, however,
it is about to change into the pupal state, it makes a beautifully-
worked cocoon in which it spends the time which intervenes be-
tween the change into the pupa and that into the perfect insect.
The cocoon is made of woody fibres, which the larva bites and
tears away, and the hollow in which the cocoon rests is usually in
the bark. The fibres are rather long and narrow, as may be seen
by reference to the illustration, which represents the cocoon and
insect of the natural size. As the woody fibres are of a pale-straw
color, the cocoon presents an agreeable contrast to the sombre hues
of the bark in which it is bedded. When the insect has attained
its perfect form, its first care is to escape from the dwelling which
has served it so well through its long period of helplessness ; and
by means of the sharp and powerful jaws with which it is fur-
nished, it gnaws a hole through the side of the cocoon and so es-
capes into the open air. In the illustration, the beetle is repre-
sented in the act of making its way through the cocoon.

The magnificent insect which is known to entomologists as the
Harlequin Beetle {Acrotinus longimanus) also belongs to the
wood-burrowers, and in the British Museum may be seen a piece
of a tree in which the beetle is still lying, its enormously long
limbs packed up into a very small compass. Exotic wood-bur-
rowing beetles are very plentiful, and there is no doubt that sev-
eral rare or doubtful British species have been introduced as grubs
within foreign timber, and that they have made their way out after
importation. The Docks are celebrated for tthe arrival of such
distinguished strangers, and a fine collection of exotic beetles has
been made by searching the cargoes of timber, after they have
been discharged from the ships in which they were brought over
the sea.

We now come to the wood-boring bees, the name of which is
legion, and a few examples of which will be now described and
figured.

Immediately below the cocoon of the Ehagium may be seen a
tunneled branch, containing two curiously-formed cells. These
cells are made of rose-leaves, and are the work of the Rose-cut-
ter Bee (Megachile Willoughbiella), or Willow Bee, as it is often

196 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

called, because its burrows are so frequently made in decaying
willow-trees. This species is very common in most parts of En-
gland, and is therefore a good example of the wood-boring bees.
The method by which the nests are made is very curious. After
the insect has bored a hole of suitable dimensions in some old tree,
she sets off in search of materials for the cells, and mostly betakes
herself to a rose-bush, or laburnum-tree. She then examines one
leaf after another, and having fixed on one to her mind, she settles
upon it, clinging to its edge with her feet, and then, using her feet
as one leg of a pair of compasses, and her jaws as the other, she
quickly cuts out a nearly semicircular piece of leaf. As she sup-
ports herself by clinging to the very piece of leaf which she cuts,
she would fall to the ground, when the leaf was severed, did she
not take the precaution of balancing on her wings for a few mo-
ments before making the last cut. As soon as the portion of leaf
is severed, she flies away with it to her burrow, and then arranges
it after a truly curious fashion.

Bending each leaf into a curved form, she presses them success-
ively into the burrow in such a manner that they fit into one an-
other, and form a small thimble-shaped cell. At the bottom of
the cell she places an egg and some bee-bread, this substance be-
ing composed of pollen mixed with honey, and then sets to work
upon another cell ; and in this manner she proceeds until she has
made a series of cells, some two inches in length. When the cells
are first made, the natural elasticity of the leaf renders them firm,
and as they become dry and stiff in a few days, they are then so
strong that they can be removed from the burrow, and handled
without breaking.

There is another bee allied to this genus, that employs the
petals of the scarlet poppy for this purpose, but unfortunately it
is not a native of England. Another species of burrowing bee,
Megachile centuncularis, seems rather capricious in its choice of
burrows, at one time making its tunnel into an old post or decay-
ing tree, at another into the mortar of old walls, at another into
the ground. It is extremely variable in size, sometimes barely
exceeding a quarter of an inch in length, and sometimes reaching
twice that size. Mr. Smith mentions that this is perhaps the most
widely distributed bee in the whole family of Apidas, extending
even as far northward as Hudson's Bay.

On the left hand of the same illustration may be seen a figure

PITH-BORING BEES. 197

of one of the pith-boring bees, many species of which inhabit this
country. This is the insect termed Hykeus dilatatus, and in or-
der to assist the reader in identifying it, a figure of the insect it-
self is given on the right hand of the nest. Usually, the Hylaeus
is obliged to bore its way through the pith by sheer labor, but it
will always avoid such a task if possible, and make its cells in a
hollow already existing. Such has been the case with the nest
from which the illustration was drawn, which was made in the
hollow stalk of a hemlock. Here let me mention that all hollow
stalks and twigs are likely localities for the nests of insects, and
that toward the autumn a rich collection may often be made by
the simple process of examining all such objects, and splitting
them carefully with a knife. Even the reeds and rushes of the
river are apt to contain nests, some of them being exceedingly rare.

The particular species of Hylaeus which is here figured is by no
means common, appearing to be a very local insect, confined to
certain spots, and seldom seen except in those favored localities.
Very many species of pith-boring insects are known, most of them
inhabiting the dry twigs of the bramble and garden rose. If at
the cut end of a branch a round hole be found in the pith, the
observer may be sure that a nest of some kind is within. Gener-
ally, on carefully laying the branch open, there appears a whole
series of cells, one above the other, and in such a case, the cells
which are farthest from the aperture always contain the larvas of
female insects, those nearest the entrance being the males.

Sometimes the nests which are found in the bramble contain
the larvae of Osmia leucomelana, a pretty little bee, scarcely more
than a quarter of an inch in length, black in color, with a very
glossy abdomen, and a white, downy look about the legs. Five
or six cells are made in each branch, and the perfect insect ap-
pears about the month of June.

Other bees of this genus are extremely clever in saving them- '
selves labor. Although they can dig industriously when obliged
to do so, they will never exert this power without compulsion.
The smaller species are very fond of making their cells inside
straws, and a thatched roof often contains thousands of nests,
which are unsuspected by man, and only discovered by the tom-
tits and other birds, whose sharp eyes soon detect the hidden in-
sect, and whose ready bills pull the straws out of the thatch, and
pick the larvae from their cells. Nail-holes in garden walls are
often filled with cells, and so are the auger-holes in old rails and
posts, from which the wooden pins have fallen.

198 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

Several species select localities even more remarkable, and
make their nests in the empty shells of snails. The common
banded snail is a favorite with these bees, and in the British Mu-
seum may be seen a whole series of such nests. The number
of cells necessarily varies with the size of the snail-shell and the
number of its whorls, but on the average four or five cells are
found in each snail-shell. The process of forming the cells is
very simple. First, the bee deposits a quantity of pollen and
honey, then she places an egg upon the pollen, and then she
makes a partition with vegetable fibres torn by her teeth and
kneaded firmly together. Lastly, the whole opening of the cell
is closed by a wall formed of clay, tiny bits of stick, and small
stones, and then the bee goes off in search of another shell.
These shells may often be found under hedges, in moss, hidden
by grass, and on examination the nests of bees will frequently
be seen in them.

In the Museum there is a beautiful example of ingenuity on
the part of the builder. Instead of choosing the cell of the band-
ed snail, she has taken that of the great garden snail, and filled it
with her cells. Thus it is evident that the shell is too large for
the formation of a single cell, and the little architect has, with
the greatest ingenuity, evaded the difficulty by placing two cells
side by side. When, however, the smaller whorls of the shell
were filled, and the bee approached the opening of the shell, the
space was too great even for the two cells placed side by side.
This difficulty was, however, overcome as readily as the former,
and instead of placing the cells perpendicularly, the bee laid them
horizontally, and thus filled up the space.

When the Osmia burrows into wood, she sets to work in a
very deliberate manner. " A bee," writes Mr. F. Smith, " is ob-
served to alight on an upright post, or other wood suitable for its
purposes. She commences the formation of her tunnel, not by ex-
cavating downward, as she would be incommoded with the dust
and rubbish which she removes; no, she works upward, and
so avoids such an inconvenience. When she has proceeded to
the length required, she proceeds in a horizontal direction to the
outside of the post, and then her operations are continued down-
ward. She excavates a cell near the bottom of the tube, a second
and a third, and so on to the required number. The larvae when
full fed have their heads turned upward. The bees which arrive
at their perfect condition, or rather those which are first anxious

WOOD-BORING- BEES. 199

to escape into day, are two or three in the upper cells — these are
males : the females are usually ten or twelve days later. This is
the history of every wood-boring bee which I have bred, and I
have reared broods of nearly every species indigenous to this
country."

One of the wood-boring bees is especially worthy of notice,
because some of its habits were remarked a century ago by Gil-
bert White, who did not know its name, but chronicled its method
of obtaining padding for the nest. We will call it the Hoop-
shaver (Anthidium manicatum). It is one of the summer in-
sects, seldom appearing before the beginning of July, and is a
rather stout-bodied insect, grayish-black, with yellow lines along
the sides of the abdomen. The last segment of the male is nota-
ble for its termination in five teeth. Its length is rather under
half an inch, and it is a very remarkable fact that, contrary to
general usage among insects, the male is larger than the female.

This bee seldom takes the trouble of making its own burrow,
but takes advantage of the deserted tunnel of some other insect,
such as the musk -beetle or the goat moth. When she has se-
lected a fitting home, she enlarges it slightly at the end, and then
goes in search of soft vegetable fibre wherewith to line it. The
mode of procuring the fibre is thus mentioned by White. " There
is a sort of wild bee frequenting the garden campion for the sake
of its tomentum, which probably it turns to some purpose in the
business of nidification. It is very pleasant to see with what ad-
dress it strips off the pubes, running from the top to the bottom
of a branch, and shaving it bare with the dexterity of a hoop-
shaver. When it has got a vast bundle, almost as large as itself,
it flies away, holding it secure between its chin and its fore legs."

After performing this part of her duty, she makes a number
of cells, using the same material, together with some glutinous
substance, places an egg in each cell, and then leaves them.
When the larvae have obtained their full dimensions, they spin
separate cocoons within the cells, and in the following summer
the perfect insects make their appearance.

If the reader will visit any fir wood, and look out for the
dying and dead trees which are sure to be found in such places,
he will probably see that many of them are pierced with round
holes, large enough to admit an ordinary quill. These are the

200

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

burrows of a splendid insect called Sirex gigas by entomologists.
Whether it has any popular name I do not know, but I have
never been able to discover one, although I have shown speci-
mens of the insect in many parts of England.

This is the more extraordinary, because it is a really splendid
creature, nearly as large as a hornet, having wide wings, a bright
yellow and black body, and a long firm ovipositor, so that from
the head to the end of the ovipositor it measures an inch and
three quarters in length. So unobservant, however, is the gen-
eral public, that nine tenths of those to whom I showed it de-
clared that it was a wasp, and the remainder thought it to be a
hornet. A very reduced figure of the insect is shown in the il-
lustration, and will give a good idea of its general form. In size
it is exceedingly variable, some specimens being twice as large as
others.

Sirex.

The Sirex is a terrible destroyer of fir-wood, in some cases
riddling a tree so completely with its tunnels that the timber is
rendered useless. In a little fir plantation about two miles from
my house, there are a number of dead and dying trees, and
almost every tree shows the ravages of this destructive insect.
The absence of external holes is no proof that the Sirex has not
attacked the tree, for they are only the doors through which the
insect has escaped from the tree into the world.

XYLOCOPA CAPENSIS.

PELOP-EUS SPIEIFEE.

6APERDA POPCXJfEA.

WOOD-BORING INSECTS. 203

The mode in which the Sirex carries on its operations is
simple enough.

With the long and powerful ovipositor the mother insect intro-
duces her eggs into the tree, and there leaves them to be hatched.
As soon as it has burst from the eggs the young grub begins to
burrow into the tree, and to traverse it in all directions, feeding
upon the substance of the wood, and drilling holes of a tolerably
regular form. Toward the end of its larval existence it works its
way to the exterior of the trunk, and there awaits its final change,
so that when it assumes its perfect form it has only to push itself
out of the hole, and so finds itself in the wide world. The in-
sects may often be seen on the trunks of the trees, clinging to the
bark close to the hole out of which they have emerged. Saw-
yers frequently destroy the grubs while they are cutting trees
into planks, but as many of the larvae escape the saw, they re-
main in the boards, and afterward emerge in nouses, to the great
consternation of the inmates. Should such a circumstance occur
in the house of any reader of this book, he may at once infer that
the wood from which the insect escaped was not properly season-
ed. I have known the Sirex to be. so numerous that it has fairly
driven the inhabitants out of their rooms, for it has a very fero-
cious appearance, and, on account of its long ovipositor, is always
thought to be armed with a venomous sting of peculiar potency.
Two species of Sirex inhabit this country. In general appear-
ance they are very similar to each other, but the species just men-
tioned is nearly twice the size of its relative. They inhabit simi-
lar localities, and I have now before me a piece of a fir-tree in
which are the holes of both species. These insects are not only
interesting in their habits, but they furnish many beautiful ob-
jects for the microscopist.

In the accompanying illustration, we have three excellent ex-
amples of wood-boring insects. In the centre of the drawing is
seen a portion of a tunnel, which is completely hollowed out, and
divided into cells. This is the dwelling which is constructed by
the splendid South African Carpenter Bee {Xylocopa Capensis),
a wood-borer of great power. She sets about her work in a curi-
ously systematic manner, each action being exactly calculated,
nothing left to chance, and all useless labor saved.

When the insect has fixed upon a piece of wood which suits
her purpose, usually the trunk or branch of a dead tree, an old

204 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

post, or a piece of wooden railing, she bores a circular bole about
an inch and a half in length, and large enough to permit her to
pass. Suddenly, she turns at an angle, and drives her tunnel
parallel to the grain of the wood, and makes a burrow of several
inches in length. None of the chips and fragments are wasted,
but are carried aside and carefully stored up in some secure place,
sheltered from the action of the wind.

The tunnel having now been completed, the industrious insect
seeks rest in change of employment, and sets off in search of hon-
ey and pollen. With these materials she makes a little heap at
the bottom of the tunnel, and deposits an egg upon the food
which she has so carefully stored.

Having now shown her powers as a burrower and a purveyor,
she exhibits tier skill as a builder, and proceeds to construct,
above the inclosed egg, a ceiling, which shall be also the floor of
another cell. For'this purpose, she goes off to her store of chips,
and fixes them in a ring above the heap of pollen, cementing
them together with a glutinous substance, which is probably se-
creted by herself. A second ring is then placed inside the first,
an>l in this manner the insect, proceeds until she has made a near-
ly flat ceiling of concentric rings. This ceiling bears some resem-
blance to the operculum of the common water snail. The reader
will probably remember, that the ceilings constructed by the ant
are made on similar principles. The thickness of each ceiling is
about equal to that of a penny.

The number of cells is extremely variable, but on the average
each tunnel contains seven or eight, and the insect certainly
makes more than one tunnel. As each tunnel generally exceeds
a foot in length, and the diameter is large enough to admit the
passage of the wide-bodied insect who makes it, the amount of
labor performed by the bee is truly wonderful. The jaws are the
only boring instruments used, and though they are strong and
sharp, they scarcely seem to be adequate to the work for which
they are destined.

In the illustration, the upper part of one of these tunnels is
shown, and in the two uppermost cells the egg has not been
hatched. In the lower cells the young larva is given, in order to
show the attitude in which it passes its early life. When all is
completed the entrance is closed, with a barrier formed of the
same substance and in the same manner as the ceilings.

As far as is }'_et known, no member of the genus Xylocopa is
indigenous to this country.

PELOP^EUS SPIRIFER. 205

Among the insect nests in the British Museum is a fine example
of the burrow made by a Brazilian member of this genus, Xylocopa
grisescens. It is a very large insect, and the hole is so wide that it
will easily admit a man's thumb. There is in the same case a nest
of a curious Australian bee, Lestis bombylans. The insect is very
like a humble-bee, but remarkable for the bright steel-blue of its
body, and the absence of hair. The burrow runs through a branch,
but is not in the centre, having at least three fourths of the thick-
ness of the wood on one side, and only one fourth on the other.
All the cells are filled with bee-bread.

Ix the upper right-hand corner of the illustration may be seen
a curious-looking insect, having its abdomen at the end of a very
long footstalk. This is the Pelopceus spirifer, an insect belonging
to the family Sphegidas. It is rather a pretty insect, though formi-
dable in aspect, the body and abdomen being black, and the limbs
and long footstalk bright yellow. The genus Pelopoeus is widely
spread over the hot parts of the world, and its members are rather
diverse in their habits. Many of them are notable builders, using
mud as the material with which they make their nest, and will
therefore be described under the head of Builders. The present
species, however, takes rank as a wood-burrower, and, as may be
seen from the illustration, makes a long tunnel inside a branch,
and divides it into cells. True to the instinct which seems com-
mon to its kind, the Pelopseus does not make the divisions of wood-
chips, as is the case with the Xylocopa, but uses mud for the pur-
pose. Instead of storing her cells with bee-bread, she captures
spiders, and with their bodies supplies her future young with food,
just as is the case with so many earth-boring hymenoptera.

The last figure in the illustration represents one of the wood-
boring beetles, and is given in order to show the curious effect
which is produced by its tunnels. The beetle mostly prefers the
twigs of the aspen as a home, and its presence can always be de-
tected by the swollen aspect of the injured twig, looking as if the
tree were affected with gout. This is a British insect, Saperda
popidnea by name, and in some places it is extremely injurious
to the aspen and poplar, always choosing the second or third
year's wood, and effectually spoiling its farther growth. The lar-
va has a small, flat head, a suddenly-enlarged thorax, and a body
tapering regularly to the tail.

206 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

Of this genus there are many species, each taking its own tree.
Saperda cylindrica, for example, prefers the pear, plum, and other
stone fruit, though it is sometimes found in the nut. It always
completes its larval existence in the centre of the stem. Another
species prefers the oak. It is fortunate for the owners of woods
that the Saperda is greatly persecuted by a parasitic fly belonging
to the genus Tachina, and that its numbers are much thinned by
the dipterous usurper.

The Lepidoptera number among their ranks some of the most
destructive wood-boring insects that inhabit this country.

There is, perhaps, no insect which makes so large or so ramified
a burrow as the common Goat Moth ( Cossus ligniperdd). This
insect is far more plentiful than is generally supposed, but as in
its larval and pupal state it is deeply buried in some tree-trunk,
and in its perfect condition seldom ventures to fly by day, not one
in a thousand is ever seen by the eye of man. This moth breeds
in several trees, such as the willow, the oak, and the poplar, the
first-mentioned tree seeming to be its chief favorite. Kent is one
of the counties wherein this moth is found in greatest profusion,
and in the fields round my house there is scarcely a willow of
any size which has escaped the ravages of the Goat Moth cater-
pillar.

The larva of the Goat Moth derives its name from the very
powerful and rank odor which it exhales, and which is thought
to resemble that of the he-goat. This odor is not only strong but
enduring, and for several years after the insect has vacated its
burrow the disagreeable scent is plainly perceptible. I have now
before me some specimens of the burrow of this creature, and al-
though a very long time has evidently elapsed since the larva? in-
habited them, their odor is quite strong, and can be perceived at a
distance of several feet. The pocket in which I placed them, after
removing them from the tree, has never lost a rank reminiscence
of its contents. As is the case with the musk-beetle, the Goat
Moth can be often discovered by means of its odor, and any one
who is acquainted with the scent will be attracted by the well-
known emanation, and point at once to the tree whence it issues.

The larva is by no means a prepossessing creature, either to the
eye or the nostrils, and though some persons believe that it was
the famous Cossus, or tree-grub of the Eomans, which was thought
so great a delicacy by the ancients,! can not believe that any pal-

GOAT MOTH. 207

ate could have attained so very artificial a condition as to endure
this repulsive creature, much less to consider it as a dainty.

It grows with wonderful rapidity, being when it has reached its
full size seventy-two thousand times heavier than when it was
hatched ; its segments are deeply marked, and in color it is of a
mahogany-red above, and yellowish below. The whole surface is
smooth and polished, and, as may be presumed, considering the
life which it leads, its muscular strength is enormous. Not only
are the large and trenchant jaws extremely thick and strong, but
the development of muscle is singularly great : and the head is
of a wedge-like shape, so that the creature can force itself even
through hard wood. It feeds entirely upon the substance of the
tree in which it takes up its residence, and leaves in its tunnels a
considerable amount of debris. As the creature increases in size,
its tunnel increases in diameter; and it is an amusing task to cut
up an old and soft-wooded tree, and follow the caterpillar through
its manifold windings.

It lives for some three years in the larval condition, and during
the winter it lies dormant in an ingeniously made cocoon, con-
structed from wood-chips and silken thread, a large store of which
can be produced by this caterpillar. Several cocoons are now be-
fore me, which I took from a willow-tree in Erith marshes. Out
of a great number of specimens I have selected four, in order to
show the different dimensions of the cocoons. The largest is two
inches and a quarter in length, and rather more than an inch in
width. In shape it is nearly cylindrical, except at the ends, which
are rounded. One of them is intact, but the other has a round hole
through which the larva has emerged. It is composed of wood-
chips of various sizes, looking like ordinary sawdust, which are
loosely, though thickly, fastened upon a silken framework. Near
one end of the cocoon the chips are very heavily massed, for what
purpose seems doubtful. Rough, however, as is the exterior of
the cocoon, the inside is quite smooth and soft, not unlike the in-
terior of the tube made by the trap-door spider.

The smallest cocoon is barely an inch in length, and is made of
much smaller chips, fastened together so strongly that the cocoon
retains its cylindrical form when handled, whereas the larger speci-
men is so loosely made that it collapses under the least pressure.
The other two are intermediate in point of size, but precisely sim-
ilar in point of construction. Besides them there is a specimen
of the cocoon in which the creature undergoes its last change.

208 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

This is of far stronger texture than either of the others, being quite
hard, like papier-mache, and dark and polished within.

Generally, just before the moth emerges, the chrysalis works it-
self along, so that it partially projects from the hole, thus enabling
the insect to escape at once into the outer world. In some in-
stances, however, this is not the case, and in the present specimen
the empty chrysalis shell may be seen, its shattered sides showing
the manner in which the inclosed moth made its exit. The hole
through which the moth emerged from the cocoon is of a wonder-
fully small size, considering the dimensions of the perfect insect,
and its sides are very ragged and irregular. Like the other co-
coons, it is strongly imbued with the characteristic odor, which has
attached itself so strongly to my fingers that careful ablution will
be needed before I shall venture to produce my hands in society.

The course taken by the larva is most erratic. Sometimes it
travels just below the bark, and then turns suddenly, and dives
into the very heart of the tree. It is much given to making these
sudden changes, and frequently returns nearly on its former track,
a mere shell of wood dividing the two passages. The winter co-
coons may be found in various parts of the tree, some deeply buried
in the wood, others near the exterior. The pupal cocoon is, as far
as I know from personal experience, very near the exterior of the
tree, so that when the perfect insect is freed from its enwraj)ments,
it is obliged to traverse only a very short distance before finding
itself in the open air.

To keep this larva until it passes through its different stages is
by no means a difficult process, and demands less trouble than is
given by the generality of caterpillars. The larva is easily found ;
for whenever an old willow-tree has a powerful scent, and exhibits
certain round holes in its bark, the Goat Moth caterpillar is sure
to be an inmate. Cut down the tree, and with a saw and chisel
break it up, until the caterpillars are found. The chisel is used as
much for ripping as for cutting ; and the use of the mallet should
be avoided as much as possible, lest the jarring strokes should in-
jure the caterpillar. To the ears of the searcher, a few blows with
a mallet on the chisel do not appear very formidable ; but to an
animal inclosed in the wood the shock of every stroke must be
terrible, on account of the sound-conducting power of the sub-
stance in which it lies.

When one or two of the caterpillars have been obtained, they
siiould be placed in a metal box, as their sharp jaws would soon

GOAT MOTH. 209

force a passage through a wooden prison, and a quantity of the
wood should be inclosed with them. No farther trouble is re-
quired; for as they eat the dry wood, and do not need to be sup-
plied daily with fresh food, as is the case with the leaf-eating cater-
pillars, they are quite content, and feed and grow nearly as well
as if they had been left in undisturbed possession of the tree in
which they were hatched.

Should any of them die, or should a sufficient number be cap-
tured to spare a sjDecimen or two, dissection should be employed,
in order to show a very peculiar structure, which is probably of
use in enabling the caterpillar to make its way through the wood.
When laid on its back, and opened, the general structure of the
interior resembles that of the silk-worm, save that the muscles
are far more strongly defined, and the silk-producing organs are
comparatively smaller. Toward the head, however, a pair of or-
gans are seen, which at once arrest the attention. A couple of
membraneous sacs — something like the honey -bag of the bee, only
very much larger, and long in proportion to their width — lie on
either side of the neck, if we may so term the first few segments
of the larva. They are generally rather flaccid, so that their sides
are wrinkled longitudinally. From the upper part of each of
these proceeds a delicate thread, which the microscope shows to
be hollow ; and which is, in fact, a duct leading into the mouth.
These sacs contain a very foetid fluid, which is supposed to
moisten the wood, and partly to soften it, so that it can be
shredded with comparative ease.

It is hardly necessary to refer the inquiring reader to Lyon-
nett's magnificent work on this subject, as the book is a model of
skill and perseverance. Still, books are chiefly useful as guides,
and not as substitutes for practical experience; and though the
beautiful work just mentioned may be perfectly familiar, it ought
only to act as a guide to the investigator, and not to supply the
place of actual dissection.

Another moth belonging to the same family is also a notable
borer into wood. This is the pretty insect called the "Wood-
leopard Moth (Zeuzera cesculi), a rarer moth than that which
has just been described, though not by any means a scarce insect
when the entomologist knows when and where to look for it.

The larva of the Wood-leopard Moth is rather pretty in color,
being whitish-yellow, spotted regularly with black, and having a

O

210 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

reddish-brown patch at either extremity. It lives in the interior
of many trees, avoiding, however, those which have a very hard-
grained wood. Most of the forest trees are subject to its attacks,
and the ordinary fruit-trees of our gardens, such as the apple, pear,
chestnut, and walnut, are often seriously damaged by this pretty
but destructive insect. Like the goat moth, it makes a strong co-
coon, in which it can lie safely throughout its pupal condition,
and, as with that insect, the walls of the cocoon are rather rough
outside and smooth within. When the cocoon is quite dry it is
very brittle, and is apt to snap if carelessly handled. This cocoon
may often be found when the trees are cut up for firewood ; and
as it generally lies very near the exterior, a strong pocket-knife
will sometimes disclose it.

The perfect insect is remarkably pretty, considering the sim-
plicity of its coloring, which consists of black upon white. The
former color, however, is so disposed, that the wings look as if
they were made of the minutest miniver, and the feathery anten-
nae add considerably to its beauty.

Some of the most elegant and curious British Lepicloptera are
also among the most destructive.

The various species belonging to the remarkable family iEge-
riadse, properly called Clear- wing Moths, are terrible enemies to
the gardener, as well as to the landowner, their larvae feeding
upon the pith, and generally preferring the young wood to that
of a more advanced growth. In some cases they live in the roots,
and are quite as destructive as their relations who prefer the
branches. All the Clear-wings are distinguished by the fact that
the greater part of their wings is simply membraneous and trans-
parent, without the beautiful feathery scales that are worn by the
Lepidoptera as an order. Some of them resemble hornets, others
are often mistaken for wasps, while several species are wonder-
fully like gnats, and as they fly about in the sunshine may readily
be mistaken for these insects.

Of one of these insects, JEgeria asil/formis, known to collectors
as the Breeze-fly Clear- wing, Mr. J. Bennie writes as follows :
"We observed above a dozen of them, during this summer, in the
trunk of a poplar, one side of which had been stripped of its bark.
It was this portion of the trunk which all the caterpillars selected
for their final retreat, not one having been observed where the
tree was covered with bark. The ingenuity of the little archi-

GNAT CLEAR- WING WOLF MOTH. 211

tect consisted in scraping the cell almost to the surface of the
wood, leaving only an exterior covering of unbroken wood, as
thin as writing-paper. Previous, therefore, to the chrysalis mak-
ing its way through this feeble barrier, it could not have been
suspected that an insect was lodged under the smooth wood. We
observed more than one of these insects in the act of breaking
through this covering, within which there is besides a round
movable lid, of a sort of brown wax."

The last-mentioned peculiarity is worthy of special notice, be-
cause it is not a general feature in the history of the Clear-wings.
Just when they are about to change into the pupal form, they
usually nibble a hole through the exterior of the branch, and then
make a partial cocoon out of the debris, taking care to place them-
selves so that the head is toward the orifice. The abdominal seg-
ments of the chrysalis are furnished with points directed back-
ward, so that by alternately extending and contracting the abdo-
men, the creature is pushed onward. "When it is going to break
out of its chrysalis case it uses these little points, and forces itself
partially through the hole, thus allowing the perfect moth to is-
sue at once into the world.

All gardeners should beware of one very pretty little species,
the Gnat Clear-wing {JEgeria tipuliformis), which is often to be
found upon currant-bushes, sitting itself upon the leaves, enjoying
the warm sunbeams, and ever and a»on opening and closing its
fan-like tail. The larva of this insect lives in the young shoots
of the currant, and in some seasons damages the crops consider-
ably.

With two more species of lepidopteran burrowers we must close
our list, one of them boring into wood and the other into wax.

The first of these insects, Tinea granella, is sometimes called
the Wolf Moth. It is a very small insect, and is closety allied
to the common clothes moth, so deservedly hated by fur-dealers,
careful housewives, and keepers of museums. The larva of this
insect feeds upon the corn, covering it at the same time with a
tissue of silken threads. The most curious portion of the life of
this insect is, that after the larva has finished eating the corn, it
proceeds to the sides of the granary, and there burrows into the
wood, making its holes so closely together that, if the timber had
been taken out of the sea, the Gribble would have had the credit
of the tunnels. Nothing seems to stop this little creature, and it
bores through deal planks with perfect ease, making its way even

212 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

through the knots without being checked either by the hardness
of the wood, or the abundance of turpentine with which the knots
in deal are saturated. This is the more astonishing, because tur-
pentine is mostly fatal to insects, and a little spirit of turpentine
in a box will effectually keep off all moths and beetles.

In these burrows the larvse change into the pupal state, and
there* remain until the following summer, when they emerge in
hosts, ready to deposit their eggs upon the corn, and raise up
fresh armies of devourers. Another singular fact is, that after
these caterpillars have lived for so long upon corn, their tastes
should change so suddenly as to induce them to take to wood,
and wood moreover which is never free from turpentine, how-
ever well it may be seasoned.

The last of our burro wers is the Honey-comb Moth, belonging
to the genus Galleria. Two species of this genus are known in
England, both of which are plentiful in this country.

These moths live in the comb of the hive-bee, and when once
they have succeeded in depositing their eggs, the combs are gener-
ally doomed. The envenomed stings of the bees are useless
against these little pests, for though their bodies are soft they
take care to conceal themselves in a stout silken tube, and their
heads are hard, horny, and penetrable by no sting borne by bee.
I once had a very complete case of honey-comb utterly destroyed
by the Galleria Moths, which draw their silken tubes through
and through the combs, ate up even my beautiful royal cells, de-
voured all the bee-bread, and converted the carefully chosen spec-
imens into an undistinguishable mass of dirty silk, debris and
moths, both dead and living.

Not long ago, one of my friends, who was about to deliver a
lecture on the structure of the bee's cell, and who had got together
a collection of combs for the purpose of illustration, came to me in
dire distress, and showed me the combs, all covered with the tun-
nels of the Galleria Moth. The damage which they had done
was very great, but their presence was discovered in time to pre-
vent them from utterly destroying the combs. After all the cat-
erpillars that could be captured had been destroyed, a wide-
mouthed bottle containing spirit of turpentine was placed in the
box, and speedily killed the survivors, while a bath in a solution
of corrosive sublimate protected the remaining combs against a
future brood of Galleria Moth.

THE HARVEST-MOUSE. 213

Although there are still in my list many names of burrowing
insects which have not yet been described, it is necessary that we
should take our leave of the burrowers and proceed to the next
chapter.

CHAPTER X.

PENSILE MAMMALIA.

The Harvest-mouse — its Appearance. — Reason for its Name. — Mouse Nests. —
Home of the Harvest-mouse. — A curious Problem. — Food of the Harvest-mouse,
and its Agility. — The Squirrel. — Its summer and winter " Cage." — Boldness
of the Squirrel. — Materials for the Nest, and their Arrangement.

There are not many mammalia which make pensile nests,
and we are, therefore, the more pleased to find that one of the
most interesting inhabits this country. This is the well-known
Harvest-mouse {Micromys minutus), the smallest example of the
mammalia in England, and nearly in the world.

This elegant little creature is so tiny that, when full-grown, it
weighs scarcely more than the sixth of an ounce, whereas the or-
dinary mouse weighs almost an entire ounce. Its color is a very
warm brown above, almost amounting to chestnut, and below it
is pure white, the line of demarcation being strongly defined.
The color is slightly variable in different lights, because each hair
is red at the tip and brown at the base, and every movement of
the animal naturally causes the two tints to be alternately visible
and concealed.

It is called the Harvest-mouse because it is usually found at
harvest-time, and in some parts of the country it is captured by
hundreds, in barns and ricks. To the ricks it would never gain
admission, provided they are built on proper staddles, were it not
that it gets into the sheaves as they stand in the field, and is car-
ried within them by the laborers. Other mice, however, are some-
times called by this name, although they have no fair title to it ;
but the genuine Harvest-mouse can always be distinguished by
its very small size, and the bright ruddy hue of the back and the
white of the abdomen. Moreover, the ears of the Harvest-mouse
are shorter in proportion than those of the ordinary mouse, the
head is larger and more slender, and the eyes are not so project-
ing, so that a very brief inspection will suffice to tell the observer
whether he is looking at an adult Harvest-mouse or a young spec-
imen of any other species.

214 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

Mice always make very comfortable nests for their young, gath-
ering together great quantities of wool, rags, paper, hair, moss,
feathers, and similar substances, and rolling them into a ball-like
mass, in the middle of which the young are placed. I have seen
many of these nests, and only once have known an exception to
the rule, when the mouse bad made its nest of empty and broken
nutshells. The Harvest-mouse, however, surpasses all its conge-
ners in the beauty and elegance of its home, which is not only
constructed with remarkable neatness, but is suspended above the
ground in such a manner as to entitle it to the name of a true
pensile nest. Generally it is hung to several stout grass-stems;
sometimes it is fastened to wheat-straws ; and in one case, men-
tioned by Gilbert White, it was suspended from the head of a
thistle.

It is a very beautiful structure, being made of very narrow
grasses, and woven so carefully as to form a hollow globe, rather
larger than a cricket-ball, and very nearly as round. How the
little creature contrives to form so complicated an object as a hol-
low sphere with thin walls is still a problem. It is another prob-
lem how the young are placed in it, and another how they are
fed. The walls are so thin that an object inside the nest can be
easily seen from any part of the exterior ; there is no opening-
whatever, and when the young are in the nest they are packed so
tightly that their bodies press against the wall in every direction.
As there is no defined opening, and as the walls are so loosely
woven, it is probable that the mother is able to push her way be-
tween the meshes, and so to arrange or feed her young.

The position of the nest, which is always at some little height,
presupposes a climbing power in the architect. All mice and
rats are good climbers, being able to scramble up perpendicular
walls, provided that their surfaces be rough, and even to lower
themselves head downward by clinging with the curved claws of
their hind feet. It is also a noticeable fact that the joint of the
hind foot is so loosely articulated that it can be turned nearly
half round, and so permits great freedom of movement. The
Harvest-mouse is even better constructed for climbing than the
ordinary mouse, inasmuch as its long and flexible toes can grasp
the grass-stem as firmly as a monkey's paw holds a bough, and
the long, slender tail is also partially prehensile, aiding the animal
greatly in sustaining itself, though it is not gifted with the sensi-
tive mobility of the same organ in the spider, monkey, or kin-
kajou.

1 U n \ys^:Mm\7?

HARVEST MOrSH.

THE SQUIRREL. 217

As the food of the LTarvest-mouse consists greatly of insects,
flies being especial favorites, it is evident that great agility is
needed. In order to show the active character of the quadruped,
one of the Harvest-mice is represented in the act of climbing to-
ward a fly, on which it is about to pounce. Under such circum-
stances its leap is remarkably swift, and its aim is as accurate as
that of the swallow. Even in captivity it has been known to
take flies from the hand of its owner, and to leap along the wires
of its cage as smartly as if it were trying to capture an insect that
could escape.

The Harvest-mouse is tolerably prolific, and in the airy cradle
may sometimes be seen as many as eight young mice, all packed
together like herrings in a barrel.

There is another well-known British mammal which, at all
events at one season of the year, may be classed among those
creatures who build pensile nests. This is the common Squirrel,
so plentiful in well- wooded districts, and so scarce where trees are
few.

The Squirrel is an admirable nest-builder, though it can not
lay claim to the exquisite neatness which distinguishes the har-
vest-mouse. As is well known, the Squirrel constructs two kinds
of nests, or " cages," as they are popularly called, one being its
winter home, wherein it can remain in a state of hibernation, and
the other its summer residence. These two nests are as different
as a town mansion and a shooting-box, the former being strong,
thick-walled, sheltered, and warm, and the other light and airy.
The winter cage is almost invariably placed in the fork of some
tree, generally where two branches start from the trunk. It is
well concealed by the boughs on which it rests, and which serve
also as a shelter from the wind. The summer cage, on the con-
trary, is comparatively frail, and is placed nearly at the extremity
of slender boughs, which bend with its weight, and cause the airy
cradle to rock and dance with every gust of wind.

As if conscious of the impregnable situation which it has cho-
sen, the squirrel takes no pains to conceal the summer cage, but
builds it so openly that it can be seen from a considerable dis-
tance; whereas the winter home requires a practiced eye to de-
tect it. So confident is the animal in the strength of its posi-
tion, that it can scarcely be induced to leave the nest, and will
sit there in spite of shouts and stones, provided that the missiles

218 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

do not actually strike the nest. A well-aimed stone will gener-
ally alarm the cunning little animal, and cause it to make one of
its rapid rushes to the top of the tree. The materials of the
Squirrel's cage are very similar to those of an ordinary bird's-
nest, consisting of twigs, leaves, moss, and other vegetable sub-
stances. Its structure is tolerably compact, though it will not
endure rough handling without being injured.

In this aerial nest the young squirrels are born, making their
appearance in the middle of summer, and remaining with their
mother until the following spring. There are generally three or
four young; and though the nest appears to be so slight, it is
capable of sustaining the united weight of young and parents.
The Squirrel does not seem to make more nests than can be
avoided, and, like many nest-builders, inhabits the same domicile
year after year, until it is quite unfit for occupation. Should the
nest be assailed while the young are still helpless, the mother
takes them in her mouth one by one, leaps away with them, and
deposits them in some place of safety. The materials of which
the nest are made are grass, moss, and leaves, together with a few
twigs, and the shape is nearly spherical. The winter cage, how-
ever, is most irregular in form, being accommodated to the space
between the boughs in which it is built, and is very thick and
warm.

The amount of materials collected for this purpose is surpris-
ing. All of them are large and thick-walled, but in some, which
are probably old nests, with the accumulation of years upon
them, the mass of dried vegetable substances is almost incredible.
I have looked into many a winter cage, and on one occasion, when
the nest was so hidden that those below could hardly see it, I
pulled out whole armfuls of moss, leaves, and grass, and threw
them to the ground, where they made a heap like a haycock.
The spectators said it looked like the conjuror's trick of produc-
ing shawls, flowers, and goblets out of an empty hat. The nest
had been deserted for some time, and all the materials were mat-
ted together by repeated rains.

PENSILE BIRDS. 219

CHAPTER XI.

PENSILE BIRDS.

Weaver Birds and their general Habits. — Red-billed Weaver Bird. — Its bo-
vine Friends.— Its Use to the Buffalo.— Other parasitic Birds. — The Spotted-
backed Weaver Bird. — Its Nest and variable Method of Construction. — The
Mahali Weaver Bird. — Shape of the Nest. — Singular Defense. — Theories re-
specting the Structure.— Habits of the Bird. — Remarkable Nests of Weavers. —
Account of Weavers engaged in Nest-building. — Very curious Contrivance. —
The Gold-capped Weaver. — Structure and Situation of the Nest. — The Taiia
Weaver Bird. — Locality selected for its Nest. — Destructiveness to Crops. — The
Palm Swift.— Its general Habits. — The Nest and its variable Structure. — Silk-
cotton. — The Tailor Bird. — Antiquity of Handicrafts. — Structure of the Nest.
—The Fan-tailed Warbler. — Singular Method of fixing its Nest. — The Pen-
duline Titmouse. — Its Habits and Food. — Remarkable Nest and its Form.

x\.lthough the majority of nest-making birds may be called
Weavers, there is one family to which the name is par excellence
and with justice applied. These are the remarkable birds which
are grouped together under the name of Ploceidas, all being in-
habitants of the hot portions of the Old "World, such as Asia and
Africa. The last-mentioned continent is peculiarly rich in Weav-
er birds, as may be seen from a glance at the plate which accom-
panies this description, on which are shown a number of species,
together with their nests.

For the most part, the Weaver Birds suspend their nests to the
ends of twigs, small branches, drooping parasites, palm-leaves, or
reeds, and many species always hang their nests over water, and
at no very great height above its surface. The object of this cu-
rious locality is evidently that the eggs and )roung should be
saved from the innumerable monkeys that swarm in the forests,
and whose filching paws would rob many a poor bird of its young-
brood. As, however, the branches are very slender, the weight
of the monkey, however small the animal may be, is more than
sufficient to immerse the would-be thief in the water, and so to
put a stop to his marauding propensities. It is well known that
the monkey race are very fond of a little bird, mouse, or egg, and
that they have such a predilection for blood, that they will snatch
the feathers out of parrots' tails, in order to suck the raw and
bleeding quills.

220 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

Snakes, too, also inveterate nest-robbers, some of them living
almost exclusively on young birds and eggs, are effectually de-
barred from entering the nests, so that the parent birds need not
trouble themselves about either foe. Although they may repose
in perfect safety, undismayed by the approach of either snake or
monkey, they never can see one of their enemies without scolding
at it, screaming hoarsely, shooting close to its body, and, if possi-
ble, indulging in a passing peck. Such a scene is depicted in the
illustration, where Weaver Birds of several species have united
in their attacks upon a monkey that is endeavoring to rob a nest,
and has met with a suitable fate.

We will now proceed to examine the several species, together
with their nests and general habits.

Our first example of the African Weavers is the Red-billed
Weaver Bird, one of the most plentiful of its kind. Its scien-
tific name is Textor erythrorhynchus, and it is remarkable for at-
tending the buffaloes wherever they go. Should the buffalo be
driven from any locality, as is often the case when civilization be-
gins to make its mark on a country, the Red-billed Weaver Bird
also disappears, and is only to be found in those parts of the land
where its huge associate can live in security.

The reason for this peculiarity is, that the bird finds the greater
part of its food upon the buffalo, catching and devouring the va-
rious parasites and insects which always accompany these animals.
Wherever the buffalo exists, there the Weaver Bird may be seen,
flitting about the animal as unconcernedly as if it were carved out
of wood, perching on its head and pecking among the hair, set-
tling on the massive horns and leaping at passing flies, while ever
and anon it makes a dash along the back, digs away at the thick
hide, and presently sits quietly on the buffalo, eating something
which it has just secured.

The buffalo has very good reason to encourage the presence of
its feathered allies, for not only do they free it from the trouble-
some insects, but they are always vigilant, and serve to detect dan-
ger. As soon as the bird perceives, or fancies that it perceives,
any thing that is suspicious, it ceases from feeding, and looks anx-
iously about. Should its suspicions prove correct, the bird flies
in the air with the peculiar whirring sound that is indicative of
danger, and which is known to the buffalo as well as to itself.
As soon as the signal of danger is thus given, the buffalo dashes

THE SPOTTED-BACKED WEAVER BIRD. 223

away into the thickest underwood, accompanied by its faithful
friends. The reader must not suppose that every buffalo has its
bird, or that even a herd of buffaloes must necessarily be accom-
panied by the Weavers. Sometimes a large party of buffaloes
may be without a single bird ; only where buffaloes do not exist,
these Weavers are not to be found.

There are several other birds which are in the habit of attach-
ing themselves to animals, such as the well-known zic-zac, which
befriends the crocodile ; the beef-eater, which perches upon the
rhinoceros; and a congener, which is found upon the buffalo.
This last bird, however, pays more attention to the " wurbles,"
or larvae of the bot-flies, which burrow into the skin, and make
such ugly holes in the hide. All these birds feed upon the para-
sites and other creatures that are found upon the animal which
they affect ; and in every case they become watchful guardians,
their own alarm being communicated to the larger animal.

Toward the upper part of the illustration may be seen a num-
ber of roundish nests, hung on branches in several rows. These
are built by the Spotted-backed Weaver Bird, and are slight-
ly variable in the method of their construction, some having the
entrance nearly at the bottom, and others more toward the sides.
They are all, however, constructed of similar materials, and the
different position of the mouth is evidently intended merely as
an accommodation to circumstances. Their eggs are not numer-
ous, seldom exceeding four, and their color is delicate green,
something like those of our common starling. The bird is not
very plentiful, and seems to be rather limited in its range, not
appearing westward of the district called Kaffir-land. Its scien-
tific name is Ploceus sjrilonotus, and it is sometimes called the Yel-
low-crowned Weaver Bird.

All the pensile birds are remarkable for the eccentricity of
shape and design which marks their nests ; although they agree
in one point, namely, that they dangle at the end of twigs, and
dance about merrily at every breeze. Some of them are very
long, others are very short; some have their entrance at the side,
others from below, and others, again, from near the top. Some
are hung, hammock-like, from one twig to another; others are
suspended to the extremity of the twig itself; while others that
build in the palms, which have no true branches, and no twigs at

224 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

all, fasten their nests to the extremities of the leaves. Some are
made of various fibres, and others of the coarsest grass-straws :
some are so loose in their texture that the eggs can be plainly
seen through them; while others are so strong and thick, that
they almost look as if they were made by a professional thatcher.

A good example of the last-mentioned description of nest is
the Mahali Weaver Bird of South Africa (Pliopasser Mahali).
Although the architect is a small bird, measuring only six inches
in total length, the nest which it makes is of considerable size, and
is formed of substances so stout, that, when the edifice and the
builder are compared together, the strength of the bird seems
quite inadequate to the management of such materials.

The general shape of the nest is not unlike that of a Florence
oil-flask, supposing the neck to be shortened and widened, the
body to be lengthened, and the whole flask to be enlarged to
treble its dimensions. Instead, however, of being smooth on the
exterior, like the flask, it is intentionally made as rough as possi-
ble. The ends of all the grass-stalks, which are of very great
thickness, project outward, and point toward the mouth of the
nest, which hangs downward ; so that they serve as eaves where-
by the rain is thrown off the nest, and possibly serve also as a
protection against foes, though the latter theory has not yet been
corroborated by observation.

It is true that the grass stems protrude from the nest like
"quills upon the fretful porcupine;" but that they really afford
any obstacle to the attacks of a snake or a monkey I can not be-
lieve. If the snake were able to get at the nest at all, it could
glide into the aperture, with an upward curve of the flexible body,
without troubling itself about the spikes ; and if a monkey were
to reach the nest, it seems to me that the projecting grass-stems
would rather assist than deter it from taking the eggs, as one
hand could steady the nest by holding the spikes, while the other
was thrust into the aperture. Other nests, moreover, though ex-
posed to the same enemies, and even when placed upon the same
trees, do not possess this remarkable armature ; and it is hardly
to be supposed that if this abatis-like exterior were absolutely
needful in the defense of the inmates, it would not be given to all
the birds which build under similar conditions. The same may
be said of the nests of the Pyrgitas. There are many structures
among animal habitations, the use of which seems to be problem-
atical; and until the case in point be decided by observation, it
must remain an open question.

THE MAHALI WEAVER. 225

Dr. Smitli remarks that the nests of certain Pyrgitae — i. e. little
birds which are popularly called sparrows in South Africa — are
armed in a similar manner, but with sticks and twigs, instead of
grass.

The Mahali is a very sociable bird, being seldom seen alone,
and usually assembling in flocks, which sometimes congregate on
the ground, and at others assemble in the branches. It is equally
sociable in the disposition of its nests, twenty or thirty of these
curious structures being often found gathered closely together on
the branches of a single tree. Although its colors are not bril-
liant, it is a pretty bird, the back being of that peculiar brown
which is called " liver" by dog-fanciers, and the under parts white,
a long patch of snowy white also passing over each cheek. It is
about as large as our common starling, the total length being rath-
er more than six inches.

Perhaps the most singular-looking nest made by these birds is
that of a rather small, yellow-colored species {Ploceus ocula7'ias), a
figure of which may be seen in the left-hand lower corner of the
illustration. This nest looks very like a chemist's retort, with
the bulb upward — or, to speak more familiarly, like a very large
horse-pistol suspended by the butt. The substance of which it is
made is a very narrow, stiff and elastic grass, scarcely larger than
the ordinary twine used for tying up small parcels, and inter-
woven with a skill that seems far beyond the capabilities of a
mere bird.

The following account of Weaver Birds engaged in nest-mak-
ing has been forwarded to me by Captain Dray son, R. A., who has
frequently watched the whole proceedings :

" The bird that builds these nests is colonially termed the Yel-
low Oriole. The ingenious little creature is nearly as large as a
thrush, and is of a bright yellow color, except the ends of the
wings, which are of a brownish hue. It is gregarious ; and when
a good locality has been found, several hundred nests will be sus-
pended from some dozen trees, within a few yards of each other.
The most pliant branches are invariably selected, from which the
nest is suspended ; and in all cases the end of the nest overhangs
the stream, so that any additional weight would bring the nest
into the water.

" The birds make a great disturbance when building, there be-
ing usually a regular fight in order to secure the best places. In

P

226 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

building, the birds first commence by working some stout flags or
reeds from the branch, so as to hang downward. They then at-
tach the upper part of the nest to the branch, so as to form the
dome-like roof. By degrees they complete the globular bulb,
still working downward, and, lastly, the neck is attached to the
body of the nest. Great skill is required to keep the neck even
and open, and yet no machine could accomplish the work better
than do these ingenious little architects. The upper part of the
nest is very thick and firmly built, more than twice as thick as
the neck, and the material of which it is made is far stronger. In
some instances I have seen one nest attached to another; and
when this is the case, the second builder strengthens the first nest,
and then attaches his own work thereto.

" Should by chance a hawk or monkey venture into the vicin-
ity of a colony of birds, it is chased and chirped at by hundreds
of these little creatures, who make common cause against the in-
truder, and quickly drive him off. During the building of the
nests, the river side is a most interesting place, as the intelligence
and diligence of the birds are most remarkable."

If the hand be carefully introduced up the neck of one of these
nests, its admirable fitness for the nurture of the young birds is at
once perceived. When merely viewed from the outside, the nest
looks as if it would be a very unsafe cradle, and would permit
the young birds to fall through the neck into the water. A sec-
tion of the nest, however, shows that no habitation can be safer,
and even the hand can detect the wonderfully ingenious manner
in which the interior is constructed. Just where the neck is
united to the bulb, a kind of wall or partition is made, about two
inches in height, which runs completely across the bulb, and ef-
fectually prevents the young birds from falling into the neck.

Although the nests are seen in considerable numbers, the feath-
ered architect does not seem to be a particularly sociable bird,
seldom being seen in flocks, and, as a general fact, the male and
female associate together and keep all other birds at a distance.
The eggs are generally three in number, very pale blue with a
few brownish spots, the spots being chiefly gathered toward the
larger end. The parent birds are very assiduous in their house-
hold cares, and each sits alternately until the eggs are hatched.
So absorbed are they in their task that they can be captured
alive, merely by grasping the lower end of the neck with one
hand, and then cautiously introducing the other hand into the

GOLD-CAPPED WEAVER BIRD. 227

nest. Perhaps this want of caution may arise from the nature of
the nest, and the birds being free from all ordinary danger ; and
if the nest had been open, like that of most birds, the inhabitants
would probably be as timid as is usually the case with birds when
disturbed in their nests.

Below the first-mentioned nest, and nearly in the lower centre
of the illustration, may be seen the beautiful nest of the Gold-
capped Weaver Bird, Ploceus icterocephalus, the figure being
drawn from a specimen in my own collection. The nest of this
bird is notable for the extreme neatness and compactness of its
structure, for it can endure a vast amount of careless handling,
and still retain its beautiful contour. The nest was taken from
the banks of a river near Natal, and was suspended from two
reeds, so as to hang over the water, and at no great distance from
the surface.

The whole structure is apparently composed of the same plant,
namely, a kind of small reed, but the materials are taken from a
different portion of the plant, according to the part of the nest for
which they are required. The whole exterior, as well as the
walls, are made of the reed-stems, woven very closely together,
and being of no trifling thickness. There is a considerable amount
of elasticity in the structure, and the whole nest is so strong that
it might be kicked down stairs, or be thrown from the top of the
Monument, without much apparent deterioration. The interior,
however, is constructed after a very different fashion. Instead of
the rough, strong workmanship of the exterior, with its reed-stems
interlacing among each other, as if woven by human art, and its
pale yellow hue, the inside exhibits a lining of flat leaves, laid art-
istically over each other so as to form a soft, smooth resting-place,
but not interlacing at all, being held in their place by their own
elasticity. Their color is of a pale bluish-gray, and the contrast
which they present to the exterior is very strongly marked. In
size the nest is about as large as an ordinary cocoa-nut — not quite
so long, though broader.

Mr. Swainson mentions that in one specimen of the nest made
by this bird there was a peculiarity about the opening. "The
aperture is lateral, but not upon the top, so that it serves the
purpose of a window to the inmates, who are sheltered overhead
by the convex top of the nest. There is something very ingen-
ious in the construction of this opening, which is not, as it at first

228 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

appears, round, but semicircular, the arch being bound round with
a stronger band than usual, and the plane or base much stronger,
and composed of straight pieces of the stalks of the grass, evident-
ly for the purpose of giving to that part on which the birds perch-
ed greater strength and substance."

In the right - hand lower corner of the illustration is a nest
of another species of Weaver Bird, the pretty Taha Weavek,
Euphctes Taha.

This species, though plentiful, is rather limited in range, and,
according to Dr. Smith, is not seen southward of lat. 26°. North-
ward of that line, however, it was found in numbers, associating
in large flocks, and generally haunting the neighborhood of riv-
ers. In some places the trees that grew near the rivers were fill-
ed with crowds of the Taha Weaver Bird. In some localities,
where the ground is cultivated, the Taha Weaver is more plenti-
ful than is liked by the natives, for it is very destructive among
the gardens; and, in places where it is very numerous, a contin-
ual watch must be kept lest the crop should be utterly destroyed.
An allied bird, 'Euphctes oryx, is equally destructive in the sum-
mer months.

Although the Taha Weavers are mostly found among trees, at
the commencement of the breeding season they leave the branch-
es and retire to the reeds that fringe the river sides, and upon
these reeds they build their pensile nest. The plumage of the
Taha Weaver varies greatly according to the season of the year,
the yellow of the summer coat being freely interspersed with
brown dashes in the winter. Even the beak is said to change its
color, and to be lighter in the summer than in the winter.

As in the illustration of African Weaver Birds so many nests
and their architects are introduced, I will give a brief summary
of its contents.

In the right-hand upper corner are seen the curious nests of the
Mahali Weaver, accompanied by the birds themselves. Just be-
low the Mahali are several rows of nests pendent from boughs.
These are the homes of the Spotted Weaver, and are represented
as attacked by monkeys, which are being ducked for their pains,
and will not succeed in reaching the nests. The monkey is the
vervet, Cercojnthecus pygerythrus, commonly called the green mon-
key, and is of the species that so frequently accompany organ-

THE PALM SWIFT. 229

grinders in this country. Assailing and bickering at the mon-
keys are several other species of Weavers. Some of the Spotted
Weavers are defending their homes, and are aided by three other
species, Ploceus subaureus, known by its lighter hue ; Hj/phantor-
nis texior, distinguished by its dark bill ; and Textor erythrorhyn-
chus, known by its light bill.

Bather in the background, and in the centre, are some nests
of Ploceus Capensis, woven with a palm-leaf. In the left-hand
lower corner is the long, retort-shaped nest of the pretty Yellow
Weaver ; in the corresponding right corner is the Taha Weaver ;
and hanging over the water at the bottom of the illustration is
the habitation of the Yellow-capped Weaver.

In Jamaica there is a bird which would not allow any illustra-
tion of its size and beauty, but is nevertheless a most interesting-
species. This is the Palm Swift (Tachornis phcenicolia), easily
known by the broad white belt on its black body, something like
the white band on the common house-martin.

As is implied by its generic name, the Palm Swift is celebrated
for its very great speed, which it exhibits by its darting flight
over the grass savannas. As, moreover, it resides in Jamaica
throughout the whole year, it gives every opportunity for ob-
serving its habits.

The nest of this bird is very curious, and always pensile ; and,
though it can never be mistaken for that of any other bird, it is
built after a very diverse fashion. Usually it is fastened to the
spathe of the common cocoa-nut palm, being cemented to the leaf
so firmly, that if it be pulled away by force, the outside integu-
ment of the leaf comes away also. The nest is ingeniously hid-
den in the leaf, so that it would not be noticed by an ordinary ob-
server, were it not that in some cases the bird is so very liberal
of its materials that their superabundance betrays its presence.
The nest is made of cotton and feathers, the cotton forming the
exterior and the feathers the lining. The walls of the nest are
very strong, though flexible, and something like felt, being firm^
compacted, and containing an enormous mass of downy feathers,
in the middle of which the eggs are laid.

The cotton is of a very short staple, and is not the substance
used in commerce, but the produce of the silk-cotton-trees belong-
ing to the genus Bombax. These trees are of very great size, the
trunks running nearly a hundred feet in height without a branch,

230 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

and being even more than proportionately thick. The cotton is
of very trifling use in commerce, the staple being not much more
than an inch in length, and is chiefly employed for stuffing mat-
tresses and pillows. The native tribes of Guiana use it for the
tiny arrows which they project through their long and slender
air-guns, fastening it upon the head of the arrows so as to make
them lit the tube. A quantity of this cotton is now before me,
and it is evident that the very qualities which render it useless
for commercial or mechanical purposes are precisely those which
are best adapted for the structure of the nest. It is remarkably
fine in texture, being almost silky to the touch ; and, instead of
becoming inextricably entangled, as is the case with ordinary
cotton-wool, it can not be handled without leaving a number of
short fibres on the fingers. Its usual color is yellowish, but occa-
sionally it is nearly white.

Several nests are often found in each spathe ; and it is a cu-
rious fact that, in such cases, they are agglutinated together with
the same substance that fastens them so firmly to the leaf, and
are connected by a kind of gallery, which runs along the side,
and communicates with each nest. It is thought that the bird
occupies the same nest repeatedly, after the manner of swallows
and martins, and that it does not desert the tenement until the
spathe becomes detached and falls to the ground, after the custom
of its kind. Fallen spathes are plentiful under the palms, and in
them the nests of the Palm Swift are frequently seen.

Sometimes the Palm Swift chooses another tree, and builds its
nest in the palmetto, a palm belonging to the genus Chamtzrops.
In such cases, the nest is of a different shape to that which is
found in the cocoa-palm, something resembling in form the India-
rubber tobacco-pouches which are now so common. The exte-
rior of the nest is loose and woolly, instead of being firm and com-
pact; and in some instances it is so very loose, that it looks just
like a doll's wisr. The earffs of the Palm Swift are white.

The man who first invented sewing in all probability thought
that he had discovered, or rather created, an art which was en-
tirely new, and that to him alone was due the credit of perceiving
the virtues of a fibre thrust through holes.

The capabilities of his invention he could not be expected to
foresee, inasmuch as he would in all probability limit its powers
to the decoration rather than the clothing of his own person. In

THE TAILOR BIRD. 231

process of time he might comprehend that, by means of the nee-
dle and thread, a number of small leaves or skins might be made
to serve the same purpose as a single large one, and as his instru-
ments improved, so would his work. There are, it is true, certain
nations who have been acquainted with the art of sewing from
time immemorial, and never seem to have made the least progress
in it. The native Australian, for example, displays wonderful in-
genuity in making thread from the sinews of the kangaroo's tail,
and needles from the emu's bones ; tyit there his invention seems
to have stopped, and, up to the present time, the junction of a
couple of kangaroo skins, or the sewing together of a few " opos-
sum" furs, seem to be the limits of his powers. Still, in other
countries, the needle and thread have, as a rule, exhibited a reg-
ular improvement, until they have culminated in the sewing-ma-
chine of the present day. Had, however, some good genius ena-
bled the original founder of the art to foresee its effect upon the
' world, he might well have been proud of his discovery, the earli-
est of human arts.

The respectable guild of tailors, indeed, were wont to attribute
to their mystery an antiquity surpassing that of any other handi-
craft, and, on the strength of a certain passage in Genesis, claimed
Adam as the first tailor. As to the smiths and musicians, the
tailors looked down upon them as of comparatively recent origin,
and considered even the mysterious order of Free-masons as mod-
ern upstarts. Had they been moderately skilled in ornithology,
they might have claimed a still older origin, on the grounds that,
long before man came on the earth, the needle and the thread
were used for sewing two objects together.

The wonderful little bird, whose portrait is accurately given in
the accompanying illustration, is popularly known by the appro-
priate title of Tailor Bird, its scientific name being Orilwtomus
hngicaudus. The manner in which it constructs its pensile nest
is very singular. Choosing a convenient leaf, generally one which
hangs from the end of a slender twig, it pierces a row of holes
along .each edge, using its beak in the same manner that a shoe-
maker uses his awl, the two instruments being very similar to each
other in shape, though not in material. These holes are not at all
regular, and in some cases there are so many of them that the bird
seems to have found some special gratification in making them,
just as a boy who has a new knife makes havoc on every piece
of wood which he can obtain.

232

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

The Tailor Bird.

When the holes are completed, the bird next procures its
thread, which is a long fibre of some plant, generally much longer
than is needed for the task which it performs. Having found its
thread, the feathered tailor begins to pass it through the holes,
drawing the sides of the leaf toward each other, so as to form a
kind of hollow cone, the point downward. Generally a single
leaf is used for this purpose, but whenever the bird can not find
one that is sufficiently large, it sews two together, or even fetches
another leaf and fastens it with the fibre. Within the hollow thus
formed the bird next deposits a quantity of soft white down, like
short cotton-wool, and thus constructs a warm, light, and elegant
nest, which is scarcely visible among the leafage of the tree, and
which is safe from almost every foe except man.

There are several nests of the Tailor Bird in the British Muse-
um, one composed of several leaves, and the other in which one
leaf is used. It is a pity that in all instances the leaf has been
plucked from the twig on which it grew ; and it is to be wished
that when other specimens are brought to England the twig will
be cut off, and that if the leaf should fall off, it may be replaced
on the spot whereon it grew. Beautiful as is the detached nest,

THE PENDULINE TITMOUSE. 233

it does not give nearly so vivid an idea of its object as if it were
still suspended to its branch.

The Tailor Bird is a native of India, and is tolerably familiar,
haunting the habitations of man, and being often seen in the gar-
dens and compounds, feeding away in conscious security. It
seems to care little about lofty situations, and mostly prefers the
ground, or lower branches of the trees, and flies to and fro with a
peculiar undulating flight. Many species of the same genus are
known to ornithologists.

The tailor bird is not the only member of the feathered tribe
which sews leaves together in order to form a locality for its nest.
A rather pretty bird, the Fan -tailed "Warbler (Salicaria cisti-
cola), has a similar method of action, though the nest can not be
ranked among the pensiles.

This bird builds among reeds, sewing together a number of
their flat blades in order to make a hollow wherein its nest may
be hidden ; but the method "which it employs is not precisely the
same as that which is used by the tailor bird. Instead of passing
its thread continuously through the holes, and thus sewing the
leaves together, it has a great number of threads, and makes a
knot at the end of each, in order to prevent it from being pulled
through the hole. A description and beautiful figure of this bird
may be seen in Gould's " Birds of Europe," vol. ii.

The odd little titmice can be admitted among the Pensile Birds,
as one of them constructs a habitation as purely pensile as any
which has yet been mentioned, and which yields in beauty to
none. This is the Penduline Titmouse (JEgithalus pendulinus),
a native of Southern and Eastern Europe. As is the case with
all its family, it is a little bird, scarcely exceeding four inches in
length, and being marked with pleasing though not very brilliant
colors. In general habits it resembles the bearded titmouse of
England, haunting the sides of streams, and feeding upon the
seeds of aquatic plants, as well as upon the various insects, larvas,
and small mollusks that are found so plentifully in the water.

The chief point of interest in this bird is, however, concentrated
in its nest, which is made in a flask-like shape, and is mostly sus-
pended to the extremity of some twig that overhangs the water.
Willows, and other trees that are fond of the water, are favored
residences of this curious little bird. The larger end of the nest

234 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

hangs downward, so that at a little distance it looks like a huge
pear with a rather long stem. The material of the nest is the cot-
tony down of the willow and poplar, and the opening is always at
the side. The position chosen is not invariably at the end of a
twig, as the nest is sometimes found among the reeds, hidden by
their thick stems from observation.

CHAPTER XII.

PENSILE BIRDS {Continued).

Australian Pensiles. — The Yellow-throated Sericornis. — Its Habits. — Singular
Position for its Nest. — Conscious Security. — The Rock Warbler. — Shape and
Locality of its Nest. — The Yellow-tailed Acanthiza. — Its Color and Song. —
Supplementary Nests. — The Pinc-finc and its Home. — Supposed Use of the sup-
plementary Nest. — The Singing Honey-eater and its Nest. — The Myall or
Weeping Acacia. — Various Materials. — The Lunulated Honey-eater. — A new
Material. — The Painted Honey-eater, its Habits and Nest. — The Art of Pres-
ervation.— Nests and their Branches. — The Color of Eggs. — The White-throat-
ed Honey-eater and its Habits. — Its curious Nest. — Locality of the Nest. — The
Golden-crested Wren, and the Resemblance of its Nest to those of the Honey-
eater. — The Swallow Dic^edm. — Its Song, and Beauty of its Plumage. — The
Nest, its Materials, Form, and Position. — The Malurus and its Nest. — The Ham-
mock Bird. — Singular Method of suspending the Nest. — The White-shafted
Fantail. — Strange Form of the Nest. — The Appendage or Tail of the Nest.

Some very remarkable instances of pensile birds' -nests are
found in Australia, and for many of them we are indebted to the
patient and careful research of Mr. J. Gould, from whose skillful
works on ornithology several illustrations have been, by permis-
sion, copied.

A very curious instance is found in the nest of the Yellow-
throated Sericornis {Sericornis citreogularis), a rather pretty, but
not a striking bird. The general color is simple brown, and, as
its name imparts, the throat is of a citron-yellow. The only re-
markable point in the color, beside the yellow throat, is a rather
large patch of black, which envelops the eye and passes down
each side of the neck, nearly as far as the shoulders. It is the
largest of its genus, and, although not rare, is seldom seen except
by those who know where to look for it, as it is scarcely ever
observed on the wing, but remains among the thick underwood,
flitting occasionally between the branches, but mostly remaining
on the ground, where it pecks about in search of the insects on
which it feeds.

THE YELLOW-THROATED SERICORNIS.

235

The reason for its mention in this work is the singular struc-
ture of its nest, which is described by Mr. Gould in the following
words :

" One of the most interesting points connected with the history
of this species is the situation chosen for its nest.

Ptilotus Sonorus.

Sericorais Citreogularis.

mm?-

Entomophila Picta.

Entomophlla Albogularis.
Origma Rubricata.

"All those who have rambled in the Australian forests must
have observed that, in their more dense and humid parts, an at-
mosphere peculiarly adapted for the rapid and abundant growth
of mosses of various kinds is generated, and that these mosses not
only grow upon the trunks of decayed trees, but are often accumu-
lated in large masses at the extremities of the drooping branches.
These masses often become of sufficient size to admit of the bird
constructing a nest in the centre of them, with so much of art that

236 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

it is impossible to distinguish it from any of the other pendulous
masses in the vicinity. These bunches are frequently a yard in
length, and in some places hang so near the ground as to strike
the head of the explorer during his rambles ; in others they are
placed high up on the trees, but only in such parts of the forest
where there is an open space entirely shaded by overhanging fo-
liage. As will be readily conceived, in whatever situations they
are met with, they at all times form a remarkable and conspicu-
ous feature in the landscape.

" Although the nest is constantly disturbed by the wind, and
liable to be shaken when the tree is disturbed, so secure does the
inmate consider itself from danger or intrusion of any kind, that
I have frequently captured the female while sitting on her eggs,
a feat that may always be accomplished by carefully placing the
hand over the entrance — that is, if it can be detected, to effect
which no slight degree of close prying and examination is nec-
essary.

" The nest is formed of the inner bark of trees, intermingled
with green moss, which soon vegetates ; sometimes dried grasses
and fibrous roots form part of the materials of which it is com-
posed, and it is warmly lined with feathers. The eggs, which are
three in number, and much elongated in form, vary considerably
in color, the most constant tint being a clove-brown, freckled over
the end with dark umber-brown, frequently assuming the form of
a complete band or zone ; their medium length is one inch, and
their breadth eight lines."

If the reader will bear in mind the remarkable shape of this
and a few other nests, he will see, in a future page, how wonder-
ful is the resemblance between the pensile nests of birds and in-
sects.

Pensile birds do not always suspend their nests to the
branches of trees, but in some instances choose exactly the local-
ities which appear to be the most unsuited for the purpose. Still
keeping to Australia, we may find a most wonderful example of
a pensile nest near mountain courses. The bird which makes it
is called, indifferently, the Eock Warbler, or the Cataract
Bird (Origma rubricata), because it is always found where water-
courses rush through rocky ground. So attached is the bird to
these localities, that it is never seen in the forest, nor ever has
been observed to perch upon a branch. The generic name, Orig-

THE ROCK WARBLER — THE YELLOW-TAILED ACANTHIZA. 237

ma, is derived from a Greek word signifying a rock or a precipice,
and is more appropriate than are many scientific titles.

It is a small bird, no larger than our sparrow, and is soberly
colored, the general hue being brown, relieved by a dull red on
the breast, something like that of the female robin. It has a me-
lodious though not very powerful note ; but its chief claims to
admiration are founded upon the extraordinary nest which it
builds. In general shape this nest somewhat resembles a claret
jug without a handle, having a long, slender neck and a globular
and suddenly-rounded bulb.

It is suspended from the rocks in sheltered places, and where-
ever an overhanging ledge of rock affords protection from the ele-
ments there the strange nests may be found. Just as the martins
take a fancy to some favored spot, and build whole rows of nests
on one side of some particular house, utterly disdaining neighbor-
ing houses which, to all appearance, afford exactly the same ad-
vantages, so do the Eock Warblers affect some particular rock,
and hang their nests by dozens in close proximity to each other.
The material of the nest is the long moss which is plentiful in the
country ; and, as may be seen from the illustration, the entrance
is near the centre- of the rounded bulb. In consequence of the
material of which the nest is constructed, it is very rough on the
exterior, though smooth and comfortable enough within.

Australia certainly produces some of the most singular ob-
jects in the world. Among the many varieties of birds'-nests
which are found in this region, there is one of a very curious
form, resembling very greatly a common cottage loaf, and being
in fact a double nest, one being placed upon the other.

The bird which makes this nest is termed the Yellow-tailed
Acanthiza (Acanthiza chrysorrhcea), and is not uncommon in dif-
ferent parts of Australasia. It is rather a neat-looking bird, the
colors being beautifully blended together. The back and upper
parts are greenish, like the hue of our common wood-wren, and
below it is pale yellow, while there is a patch of bright golden
yellow at the base of the tail. As if to contradict the popular
idea that the birds of Australia have no song, the Yellow-tailed
Acanthiza sings a bright, cheerful note, very like that of the gold-
finch, so that it is in all points a pleasing little bird.

It is seldom seen on the wing, or, at all events, seldom flies
to any distance, as it prefers to remain on the ground, or in the

238 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

bush, and when disturbed will fly for a few yards and then settle
again. It is generally found in small flocks, consisting of six or
ten in number, and as it is by no means timid, will allow itself
to be approached closely before it takes alarm.

The nest is a very remarkable structure. In most cases it is
formed as has just been mentioned, a little nest being stuck on
the large one. The materials of which it is made are grass, wood,
and leaves, and the structure is rather loose and careless. Gener-
ally it is suspended from the delicate mimosa branches, especially
in Van Diemen's Land ; but when it builds in gardens, as is often
the case, it mostly prefers a low shrub for that purpose. Unfor-
tunately for the bird, the bronze cuckoo has a predilection for its
nest, and lays its eggs therein. Whenever this is the case, the
parasitic bird takes entire possession of the nest, and no other
young are found in it.

The supplementary nest is not invariably present, and both the
size and shape are extremely variable. The reader may perhaps
remember that the Pinc-pinc of Africa {Drymoica textrix) has a
similar custom, constructing a supplementary roosting-place upon
the nest. The home of the Pinc-pinc is of much firmer structure
than that of the Yellow-tailed Acanthiza, being made of vegetable
fibres, interwoven so strongly and elaborately that a thick, felt-
like substance is produced. The entrance to the nest is formed
in a tubular shape, and projects for an inch or two, so as to look
like a spout, and near the entrance is constructed a rounded pro-
jection on which a bird can repose.

Some persons think that the male bird uses this perch, and that
he posts himself by the entrance in order to act as a sentry and to
keep guard over the inmates. It is more probable, however, that
the projection is used, not so much as a resting-place for the male,
although he may possibly take a fancy for sitting in the fresh air
rather than in the nest, as a perch on which the bird can settle
before it passes into the tubular entrance. This supposition is
borne out by the fact that there are mostly several of these
perches on each nest, so that the whole structure assumes a rather
awkward and irregular aspect. The nest is of very large dimen-
sions when compared with its architect, being on the average four
inches in diameter.

There is another species of Acanthiza {Acanthiza reguloides)
which lives in Australia, and builds a nest very similar in its
materials and the general principles of its structure to that of the

THE SINGING HONEY-EATER. 239

bird already described, except that the supplementary nest is not
present.

A most beautiful pensile nest is made by the Singing Honey-
eater (Ptiloius sonorus), a species which is spread over a large
portion of Australasia.

Here we have another example of an Australian singing-bird,
for the melody of this creature is so loud, so full, and so rich in
tone, that Mr. Gould compares it to that of the missel thrush.
It is a soberly-colored bird, though easily identified, the back be-
ing pale brown, the top of the head yellow, and a deep black
patch passing over the eye, and turning downward along the side
of the neck. It is a lively bird, as are all those feathered crea-
tures which feed chiefly on insects, and even in midwinter its
melodious song may be heard in full vigor.

There is a very common tree in Australia, popularly called the
myall, known to scientific botanists as Acacia pendvla. The twigs
of this tree are long and very slender, and the leaves are so nar-
row and delicate that at a little distance they look more like
grass-blades than the leaf of a tree. The reader may remember
that this is a characteristic of all drooping or "weeping" trees,
the leaf and the twig being slender in proportion to each other.
The weeping birch and the weeping willow of our own country
are good examples of this peculiarity.

Thus, as both the leaves and the twigs of the myall are extra-
ordinarily long and slender, the tree is chosen by many birds
which build pensile nests, as will be seen in the course of this
volume. It seems a tree that was made for the express purpose,
because the long and slender twigs serve the double purpose of
affording a firm attachment for the nest and suspending it where
no ordinary foe can reach it, while the delicate leaves give their
aid in fastening the nest to the twigs, and at the same time serve
to conceal the structure from prying eyes.

Although the general structure of the nest is the same in all
parts of the country, the materials necessarily differ. In New
South Wales, the external shell of the nest is formed of very fine
dry stalks, not thicker than twine, while the lining is composed
of fibrous roots, matted together with spiders' webs. It is fasten-
ed by the rim to the twigs, and as a few of the slender twigs oc-
casionally are interwoven into the nest, it hangs quite securely.
In Western Australia the nest is made of grasses, which, although

240 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

green when first woven, become white and dry in a short time.
The grass is mingled with the hair of the kangaroo and the fur
of some pbalangist, vulgarly called opossum, which serve to mat
the grass together and to make it impervious to the wind and
rain ; and the interior is neatly lined with grasses and vegetable
down.

There are many Honey-eaters in Australia, all of which are
easily known by the hairy tuft at the end of the long tongue,
which is used for licking the sweet juices out of flowers. The
entomological reader may perhaps remember that the tongue of
the hive-bee is constructed on precisely the same principle, being-
long, slender, mobile, and fringed with hair at its top.

Many of them construct nests which may fairly be reckoned
among the pensile, and one of the prettiest among the number is
that which is built by the Lunulated Honey-eater {Melilhreptes
lunulatus). The bird is easily recognized by the white crescentic
mark which runs round the back of the neck, the horns pointing
upward toward the opening of the mouth, and forming a striking
contrast with the black hue of the head and neck.

The nest of this bird is very like that of the Singing Honey-
eater, but is mostly suspended to the thinnest twigs which grow
at the summit of the enormous Eucalypti-trees. Owing to the
great height at which it is placed, and the leaves which surround
it, none but an experienced eye can detect it. The walls of the
nest are ingeniously made of the inner rind or "liber" of the
stringy-bark and other gum-trees, a material which is not unlike
the "bass" with which all gardeners are so familiar. The hair
of various animals is mixed with the bark, and since sheep have
been introduced into Australia, the bird has always availed itself
copiously of their wool, finding that it can be worked well into
the nest, and serves to bind the materials firmly together. As
the nest is always hung by the rim to the twigs, strength of sub-
stance is an absolute necessity, and the toughness of fibre and the
felting property of the wool make it a most valuable addition to
the building materials used by the bird.

For the lining of the nest, the Lunulated Honey-eater retains
the materials to which it has always been accustomed, and uses
the fur of the phalangists, which has the advantage of being very
soft, very warm, of retaining its elasticity, and of not adhering to
the claws of the inmates, as would be the case with wool.

THE PAINTED HONEY-EATER. 241

There is another of these pretty birds, called the Painted
Honey-eater, on account of the variety of its coloring. Its sci-
entific name is Erdomopliila pida. The general color of this hand-
some bird is rich brown above, with the exception of a yellow
patch on the base of the tail, and white, slightly spotted, below.
A characteristic mark of the species is a little patch of pure white
just by the ears.

This handsome species inhabits the interior of New South
Wales, and does not confine itself merely to a diet of sweet juices,
but feeds much on small insects. The generic title, Entomophila,
is composed of two Greek words, which signify insect-lover, and
is given to this bird, and several other Honey-eaters, on account
of their insect-eating habits. The birds are extremely active, and
devote much of their time to the pursuit of insects on the wing,
in which occupation they have a great resemblance to our well-
known fly-catcher. They sit on a branch, keeping a careful
watch, and whenever an insect passes near, they dart into the air,
catch it, and return to their post. They are generally seen in
pairs, and are very playful, chasing each other merrily, and spread-
ing their tails so as to show the white color. When on the wing,
they are so like the common goldfinch that they might easily be
mistaken for that bird, the patchy distribution of the color, and
the white spot on the face, adding greatly to the resemblance.
The nest of this bird is a beautiful example of the pensiles, and
on looking at a specimen it is impossible to restrain a feeling of
regret that the art of preservation as it now stands will not per-
mit us to retain the branch and its delicate leaves in all their
lovely greenery, their long, spear-like blades affording so beauti-
ful a contrast to the dry and withered substance of which the
nest is made.

I may perhaps throw out a hint to collectors of birds'-nests, that
they would always increase the value of the nest by retaining as
much as possible of the branch on which it was placed, as the in-
terest greatly depends upon the precise relation which the nest
bears to its locality. None, for example, can properly appreciate
the extreme beauty of the nest built by the chaffinch until they
see the exquisite manner in which the exterior is covered with
mosses and lichens, which exactly resemble in color the bark of
the branches amid which it rests. The pretty cuplike nest of the
goldfinch, the domed structure of the long-tailed titmouse, the
basin-shaped home of the thrush, and the clumsy structure of the

Q

242 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

rook, are all so beautifully adapted to the situation which they
occupy, that to remove them from their surroundings is to de-
prive them of half their value.

Although the leaves can not be induced to retain their form or
color, and always become crisp, and dry, and shriveled, and brown,
the branches still keep their form, and, if properly managed, may
be made to retain their position. The best plan for restoring the
nest to its original appearance is to substitute for the dried foliage
a new set of artificial leaves, which are now made so true to nature
that they can scarcely be distinguished from their living models.
Only, it is to be hoped that the arsenical green will not be used,
not only on account of its poisonous qualities, but also of its pecul-
iar hue, which is quite unlike that of living leaves. The life-like
appearance of the bark can easily be restored by the judicious use
of color, moistened wafers, and varnish.

The eggs, too, should always be made to appear in their natural
hues, which in many instances are lost when the contents are re-
moved. This is invariably the case with all of the smaller eggs
where the shell is not deeply colored ; and in some instances, such
as the egg of the kingfisher, the swift, the dipper, and the sand-
martin, the color of the egg is changed from delicate pink to chalk-
white. I always renew the color of these eggs by injecting a mix-
ture of carmine and gamboge — a single drop is sufficient for a
small egg ; and in order to prevent it from drying in streaks and
blots, I hold it over a spirit-lamp, or before a fire, and turn it con-
tinually until it is quite dry. An unblown egg should be kept
as a model whereby the color can be precisely determined ; and
when it is properly done, the effect is very beautiful. A pure white
egg, like that of the kingfisher, is much improved by heating the
shell, after the color is dry, and then injecting a little boiling wax,
so as to back up the color, and restore the beautiful translucence
of the unblown egg. A tiny scrap of silver-paper should then be
fastened over the orifice, in order to prevent dust from entering.

To return to our Honey -eaters. The material of which the
nest of the Painted Honey-eater is composed is fine fibrous roots, '
interwoven very artfully, but loosety, and being of so frail a struc-
ture, that much care is required to remove it without damage. It
is fastened by the rim to the delicate twigs of the beautiful weep-
ing acacia (Acacia pendula), whose long lanceolate leaves droop
over and nearly cover it. It is a very small nest in proportion
to the size of the bird.

TIIE WHITE-THROATED HONEY-EATER. 243

Still keeping to the same interesting family of birds, we find
among the pensile builders another speeies of Honey-eater.

The White-throated Honey-eater (Enlomophila albogularis)
is rather like the Painted Honey-eater, being brown above, white
below, and having a yellow pateh on the base of the tail. It is,
however, easily distinguished from its congener by the peculiarity
from which it derives its name — viz., a large patch of pure white
in the front of the throat, extending as far as the eyes. The top
of the head is grayish-blue, and the breast is buff.

It is a lively, active little creature, ever on the move, and de-
lighting to flit from branch to branch, but not caring to make long-
flights. As it flies from one bough to another, it utters a musical
little song, much like that of the goldfinch, and continues to sing
for a considerable time. It detests wind, and is mostly seen in
the thick bush, and loves to frequent the masses of mangroves
which edge bays and creeks, because the air is comparatively still.
In these places may be found its curious nest, which is about as
large as a breakfast-cup, and very much of the same shape. It is
made of the delicate paper-like bark of the Melaleucas, and various
vegetable fibres, with which it is ingeniously hung to the branches.
The broad, thin bark causes it to be very smooth on the exterior.
For the lining, the bird is not indebted to any animal or bird, but
uses grass-blades, which are neatly laid, and form a soft resting-
place for the eggs.

The nest is placed very low, being often found scarcely two feet
from the water, in that point resembling the nest of the African
weaver birds, which have already been described. It is always
hung near the extremity of a branch, and invariably is so placed
as to be under the protection of a spray of leaves, which act as a
roof whereby the rain is thrown off.

In order that these singular Australian nests which have been
described may be compared with each other at a glance, five of
the most remarkable examples have been placed in the same
illustration, and by comparing the description with the figures, a
better idea will be obtained than if each had formed the subject
of a separate illustration.

Before proceeding to describe another remarkable pensile
builder of Australia, I must draw the attention of the reader to
a bird of our own country, which often builds a pensile nest, in
some respects resembling that of the White-throated Honey-eater.

244 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

Want of space forbids me to introduce an illustration of this ex-
quisite little creature, including a figure of its nest, which equals
in beauty the home of many foreign birds. As, however, this nest
is tolerably familiar, and examples can always be obtained, I have
preferred to insert figures of the nests made by exotic and less
known birds.

The Golden-crested Wren (Regulus cristatus), whose form
and colors are so well known as to require no description, builds
a beautifully neat little nest, thickly lined with feathers, in which
the minute little nestlings can lie securely. The nest is always
placed under the protection of a natural roof, a spray of leaves
being a favorite spot. Almost invariably the nest is fairly sus-
pended, and in several instances I have noticed that three branch-
es were used for the purpose.

We will now return to our Australian birds.

There is a genus of very small birds, called Dicseum, which is
spread over many parts of the world, and finds several represent-
atives in Australia. All are interesting birds; but as the present
work only treats of birds as the architects of their nests, it is nec-
essary to select one which builds a pensile habitation. This is
the Swallow Dicleum (Dicceum hirundinaceum), a bird scarcely
as large as our common wren, and glowing with brilliant colors,
the whole of the upper part being deep, glossy blue-black ; the
throat, breast, and under tail-coverts of a fiery scarlet ; and the
abdomen pure white. It has a very sweet though low and in-
ward note, so faint as scarcely to be audible from the tops of the
trees, but continued for a long time together.

Artificial aids to vision are required in order to watch the hab-
its of the Dicceum, for it loves the tops of the tallest trees, where
its minute body can scarcely be seen without the assistance of
glasses. The Casuarinoa are favorite trees with this bird, which
is fond of flitting about the branches of a parasitic plant called
loranthus, which bears viscid berries. It is not precisely known
whether the bird haunts the loranthus for the sake of the berries
or of the insects, but as the Dicncum is one of the insect eaters, the
latter supposition is probably correct.

It is very seldom if ever seen on the ground, and its flight
among the upper branches is quick, sharp, and darting.

The nest of the Swallow Dicseum is as pretty as its architect,
and its ordinary shape can be seen in the accompanying illustra-

THE SWALLOW DICLEUM.

245

**-% K iW '

The Swallow Dicanm.

tion, though the plain black and white of a wood engraving can
give but little idea of its full beauty. In color it is nearly pure
white, being made of the cotton-like down which accompanies
and defends the seeds of many plants, and this material is so art-
fully woven that the nest almost looks as if it were made from a
piece of very white cloth. It is always purse-like in form, though
its shape is slightly variable, and is suspended by the upper por-
tion to the twigs at the very summit of the tree. Generally it
hangs its nest upon the parasitic plant which has already been
mentioned, but it often selects the Casuarinse, or the delicate
twigs of the myall or weeping acacia for that purpose. The av-
erage number of eggs is five, and their color is grayish-white
thickly powdered with small brown specks. Their length is
about three quarters of an inch, and their breadth rather less than
half an inch.

246 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

There is a nest of another Australian bird which has some re-
semblance to that of the Swallow Dicasum, namely, the home of
the species called Malurus cyaneus, one of a rather large group of
birds which are peculiar to Australia. Like the habitation which
has already been described, the nest of the Malurus is placed
very high on the tree, and is purse-like in shape, having an aper-
ture in the side through which the bird can pass. The Malurus
belongs to the same group of birds as the remarkable emeu-wren,
so well known for its long, hair-like tail-feathers, and its odd cus-
tom of holding that appendage erect as it trips over the grass.
The Malurus has the same habit, though its tail is comparatively
short, and does not attract much attention.

In a previous page it has been mentioned that a bird was un-
doubtedly the first tailor, and used needle and thread ages before
man had invented such implements. We now come to a bird
which may be accepted as the first hammock-maker, its nest be-
ing made of a hammock-like shape, and slung just as a seaman
slings his oscillating couch. Scarcely any more comfortable bed
could be invented, provided that it be properly suspended, and
the bird certainly deserves our gratitude, if it be only for the fact
that it might have given the first hint on the subject.

It is one of the Honey-eaters, and is called the Lanceolate
Honey -eater (Plectorhynchus lanceolatus), on account of the
shape of its feathers. It is not a brilliantly colored bird, its hues
being only brown and white, diversified by a black line down the
middle of each feather. It does not seem to be a very lively bird,
being accustomed to sit on the very top of some lofty tree, such
as an acacia or eucalyptus, and to, remain almost motionless in
one spot. So still and quiet is it that it would hardly be seen
were not its presence betrayed by an occasional powerful and
shrilly-sounding whistle. Its food consists partly of insects, and
partly of the pollen and sweet juices of flowers.

The wonderful nest of this bird was found by Mr. Gould on
the Liverpool Plains, overhanging a stream, and being a beautiful
example of the pensiles. The materials of which it is made are
grass and wool, intermingled with the pure white cotton of certain
flowers. As the reader may see by reference to the illustration,
it is hung from a very slender twig, and only suspended at op-
posite extremities of the rim, the tree selected being the myall,
or weeping acacia. The nest is rather small in proportion to the

THE WHITE-SHAFTED FANTAIL.

,-ri

247

The Lanceolate Honey-eater (Plectorhynchus lanceolatus).

bird, and is very deep, so that when the mother is sitting on her
eggs, or brooding over her young, she is obliged to pack herself
away very carefully, her tail projecting at one side of the nest
and her head at the other.

Our last example of the Australian pensile nests is one which
is made by the White-shafted Fantail (Ehipidura albica), a
native of Yan Dieman's Land, and the southern and western por-
tions of Australia. It is rather a pretty bird, being boldly marked
with black and white, and is remarkable for the fact that the
shafts and tips of the tail-feathers are pure white, the central
feathers only excepted. It derives its popular name of Fantail
from its habit of spreading its tail like a fan while descending,
and as the tail is very broad, the action has a really remarkable
effect.

The nest of this bird is of a figure not very easy to describe,
but an idea of it may be formed from a common wine-strainer,
with a very long and straight spout. The nest is attached to a
branch rather below the middle of the cup, so that the long spout
hangs down like a tail, quite independent of the bough. What

248 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

can be the object of this appendage no one knows, and there is
no purpose that it can even be imagined to fulfill, except perhaps
that it may serve as a conductor. Like many other pensile nests,
it is placed at a low elevation, and hung over water. Sometimes,
however, it is found in a forest where no stream runs, but even in
such a case it is suspended not many feet from the ground, though
high enough to guard it against the attacks of any ordinary foe.

The materials of which the nest is made are the delicate inner
bark of the gum-tree, together with mosses, and the soft down ob-
tained from the tree-fern. These substances are interwoven with
tough spiders'-web, which has the effect of binding them firmly
together. This remarkable nest is mentioned in the present place
because its peculiar shape bears some resemblance to certain pen-
sile nests formed by the humming-birds, and which will presently
be described.

The bird itself is a lively and amusing little being, not only
active on the wing, but singularly bold and confiding in charac-
ter, betraying little fear of man, and even entering houses when
engaged in chasing insects. These attributes, however, entirely
disappear during the breeding season, when the little bird be-
comes as shy, as suspicious, and as timid as it was formerly bold
and confiding. It can not endure that a. human being should
even approach its nest, and in order to draw off his attention, acts
after the manner of the lapwing, and by feigning lameness en-
deavors to decoy the intruder in another direction. The White-
shafted Fantail rears at least two broods in a season, and has oc-
casionally been known to produce a third. There are only two
young in each brood, so that the parents are not subject to very
hard work when rearing their offspring.

These birds are generally seen in pairs, but are not gregarious,
and, as far as is known, they are permanent residents in Australia,
merely shifting their quarters at the different seasons.

HUMMING-BIRDS. 249

CHAPTER XIII.

PENSILE BIRDS {Continued).

American Pensile Birds. — Humming-birds, and the general Structure of their
Nests. — The Little Hermit, its Color, Habits, and Nest. — The Gray-throated
Hermit and its Hardihood. — The Pigmy Hermit and its Seed-nest. — The Long-
tailed Humming-bird. — Mode of building its Nest. — The White-sided Hill
Star. — Curious Method of suspending its Nest. — The Sappho Comet. — The
Chimborazian Hill Star. — Curious Locality. — Its Habits, Food, and Nest. —
The Sawbill and its singular Nest. — Habits of the Sawbill. — The Brazilian
Wood Nymph. — Use made of its Plumage and its Nest. — The Ruby and Topaz
Humming-bird. — Stuffed Skins. — The Azure Ccereba, its Color, Nest, and Hab-
its.— The Baltimore Oriole. — Reason for its Name. — Its beautiful Nest, and
curious Choice of Materials. — Familiarity of the Baltimore Oriole. — The Orchard
Oriole, or Bob-o'-Link. — Various Forms of Nest. — Why called Orchard Oriole.
— The Crested Cassique, its Size, Form, and Colors. — Its remarkable Nest. —
Difficulty of obtaining Negts. — The Great-crested Fly-catcher, and its use
of Serpent-sloughs. — The Red-eyed Fly-catcher, Whip-Tom-Kelly. — Low-
Elevation of its Nest. — The White-eyed Fly-catcher, its Nest, and Fondness
for the Prickly Vine. — The Prairie Warbler, its Habits and Nest. — The Pine-
creeping Warbler. — The Asiatic Pensiles. — The Baya Sparrow. — Its Color
and Social Habits. — Singular Form of the Nest.

Having now taken a cursory glance at the pensile nests con-
structed by the feathered inhabitants of Africa and Australia, we
again cross the sea and come to America. There are many pen-
sile builders among American birds, and chief among them are
the exquisite little creatures called the Humming-birds, which
are peculiar to America and her islands.

Among the multitudinous species of this -wonderful group of
birds are very many examples of pensile nests, that mode of
structure being, indeed, the rule, and any other the exception.
As is the case with the nests of the Australian birds, some are
suspended from twigs, others from rocks, and others again from
leaves, the last-mentioned plan being the most common. It is
evident that, in order to enable a nest to be fastened to a leaf,
some very tenacious substance must be employed; and this is
found in the webs of various spiders, some of which are of won-
derful strength and elasticity — as strong, indeed, as the silken
lines of our well-known brown-tailed moth, which, though tightly

250

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

stretched, can be pulled without breaking, and spring back to
their former position like a harp-string. There is also a great
variety in spiders' webs, so that the birds can procure at will the
Ion- elastic threads with which the materials of the nest can be
tiecf together, or the soft felt-like substances with which the moss,
bark, and fibres can be interwoven, so as to form a firm and wet-
resisting mass.

'Hut . vJ s

Little Hermit (PM'ithomis eremita).

Our first example of the pensile Humming-birds is the beau-
tiful species called the Little Hermit (Phatthomis eremita),
a bird which is known by the warm ruddy color of the under
parts, and the black crescent on the breast. There are many
species of Hermit Humming-birds inhabiting Venezuela and the
Caraccas, and choosing those districts where the flora is most

GRAY-THROATED HERMIT. 251

abundant. They are all remarkable for two peculiarities, the
first being the form of the tail, which is regularly graduated, the
two central feathers being the longest, and the others diminish-
ing on either side. The second peculiarity is, that the two sexes
are nearly alike in their coloring, contrary to the usual custom
among humming-birds, the male of which is generally brilliantly
clad, and the female quite plain and sombre. All those Hermits
whose habitation is known build a curiously-formed nest, funnel-
shaped, and attached to the end of some drooping leaf.

The example which has been chosen for illustration affords a
good idea of the form which is generally followed, and, as may be
at once seen, closely resembles that of the fan-tailed warbler, which
has already been described.

The nest which is here figured was attached to the very ex-
tremity of the leaf, so that the long tail hung down freely. The
materials of which it was composed were the silky fibres of plants,
the cotton-like down of seed-vessels, and some other substance,
which is supposed to be fungus, and is of a woolly texture. All
these materials were interwoven with spider's-web, by means of
which the nest was attached to the leaf at the end of which it
swings. The bird almost invariably chooses some dicotyledon-
ous leaf for its pendent home.

Other nests made by birds of the same genus are worthy of a
passing mention.

First, there is the pretty nest of the Gray-throated Hermit
(Phaethornis griseogulmis), a very tiny bird, of comparatively
sober plumage, reddish-brown being the predominant hue. This
species is found in Ecuador, and is seen at an elevation of six
thousand feet above the level of the sea. Indeed, the depth of
cold which these fragile little beings can endure is really surpris-
ing, many species being found only on the highest mountains,
and one bird, the Chimborazian Hill Star, inhabiting a zone that
is never less than twelve thousand feet, and seldom more than
sixteen thousand, above the level of the sea. Immediately above
the last-mentioned elevation the line of perpetual snow begins,
and, though the bird can exist just below it, the absence of vege-
tation prevents it overpassing that line.

The nest of the Gray-throated Hermit is made of moss fibres
and the same silken threads that have already been mentioned,
and is fastened to a leaf. It does not, however, hang from the
extremity, but is fastened against the side of the leaf, and its tail,

252 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

if we may so call the lengthened appendage, is not free, but at-
tached to the leaf in the same manner as the nest.

Another species, Phaeihornis Eurynome, makes its nest of the
tendrils of certain creepers, together with delicate root fibres, and
attaches it to the leaf of some palm by means of cobwebs.

Our last example of this group is the tiny species called the
Pigmy Hermit {Phaethornis pygmcBus), a pretty little creature,
though scarcely a brilliant one, and decorated with green-bronze
above and warm red below. The nest of this species is fastened
to a leaf, like that of the gray-throated hermit, and is also deep
and cup-shaped, with an appendage so long as to give the whole
nest a shape resembling that of a funnel. It is remarkable for the
great use of which this little architect makes of seeds, the exte-
rior being covered with downy seeds, and the interior lined with
similar down, and the delicate fibres of flowering plants.

The reader will remember that on page 248 it was mentioned
that the general form of the nest made by the white-shafted fan-
tail was similar to that constructed by one of the humming-birds.
The species in question is the Hylocharis cyaneus, and the nest
resembles that of the fan-tailed warbler in two points ; first, the
manner in which it is suspended, and, next, the formation of the
appendage. Instead of being fastened to the side of a leaf, as is
the case with the habitations of the hermit humming-bird, this
nest is placed upon a twig, so that it is supported by the cup, and
the appendage hangs freely below. In other respects the nest is
similar to those which have been described.

As the reader may like to know how the tiny architect achieves
her graceful task, I introduce a passage wherein Mr. Gosse de-
scribes, with the vivacity of an eye-witness, the manner in which
the female Long-Tailed Humming-bird {Trochilus Polytmus)
builds its pensile home. The nest is made of fine moss, cotton
fibres, spiders'-web, and studded externally with lichens, and is
one of the true pensiles, sometimes being found over water, and
in one instance overhanging the sea waves, suspended to a twig
of wild vine. The account is as follows :

"Suddenly I heard the whirr of a humming-bird, and on look-
ing up I saw a female Polytmus hovering opposite the nest with
a mass of silk-cotton in her beak. Deterred by the sight of me,
she presently retired to a twig a few paces distant, on which she

LONG-TAILED HUMMING-BIRD. 253

sat. I immediately sank down among the rocks as gently as pos-
sible, and remained perfectly still. In a few seconds she came
again, and, after hovering a moment, disappeared behind one of
the projections, whence in a few seconds she emerged again and
flew oft! I then examined the place, and found, to my delight, a
new nest.

" I again sat down on the stones in front, where I could see the
nest, not concealing myself, but remaining motionless, waiting for
the bird's reappearance. I had not to wait long ; a loud whirr,
and there she was, suspended in the air before her nest. She soon
espied me, and came within a foot of my eyes, hovering just in
front of my face. I remained still, however, when I heard the
whirring of another just above me, perhaps the mate, but I durst
not look toward him, lest the turning of my head should frighten
the female. In a minute or two the other was gone, and she
alighted again on the twig, where she sat some little time preen-
ing her feathers, and apparently clearing her mouth from the cot-
ton fibres, for she swiftly projected the tongue an inch and a half
from the beak, continuing the same curve as that of the beak.

"When she arose it was to perform a very interesting action,
for she flew to the face of the rock, which was thickly clothed
with soft downy moss, and, hovering on the wing as if before a
flower, began to pluck the moss until she had a large bunch of it
in her beak. Then I saw her fly to the nest, and, having seated
herself in it, proceeded to place the new materials, pressing, and
arranging, and interweaving the whole with her beak, while she
fashioned the cup-like form of the interior by the pressure of her
white breast, moving round and round as she sat. My presence
appeared to be no hinderance to her proceedings, although only a
few feet distant; at length she left the place, and I left also."

The bird whose proceedings are thus vividly described is a
lovely species, remarkable for the very great length of the two
central tail-feathers, which are very narrow, and twice as long as
the bird from the point of the beak to the root of the tail. They
cross each other as the bird is at rest, and their color is deep pur-
ple-black. The rest of the plumage is most lovely, the upper
parts being green, with a golden gloss, and the throat and lower
parts emerald-green. The top of the head is deep velvet-like
black, and surmounted with a small plume. These are the colors
of the adult male, the female being without the two long feathers
in the tail, the top of the head brown, and the throat and breast
white, slightly speckled with green.

254 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

In the accompanying illustration may be seen figures of the
nests made by three different species of humming-birds, each of
which is remarkable for some peculiarity of structure, though they
are all pensile.

The first of these nests is that which is made by the "White-
sided Hill Star (Oreotrochilus leucopleurus\ a native of the Andes
of Acoucagua, inhabiting a zone of very great elevation, seldom
being seen less than ten thousand feet above the level of the sea.
With the exception of a bright emerald-green gorget, it is rather
a dull-colored bird, the prevailing hue being brown. The nest is
shaped something like a hammock, not unlike that of the lanceo-
late honey-eater, describld and figured on page 247, and is fast-
ened, not to a twig, or a leaf, or a branch, but to the side of a rock,
being suspended by one side, so as to leave the remainder free.

As is the case with the generality of humming-birds' nests, cob-
webs are employed for the purpose of fastening the structure to
the object to which it hangs. The materials of which the nest is
made are chiefly moss, down, and feathers, the feathers being pro-
fusely stuck on the outside.

This is not the only humming-bird which hangs its nest from
rocks, for the lovely Sappho Comet ( Cometes sparganurus), some-
times called the Bar-tailed Humming-bird, on account of the
dark bars which cross its tail, has a similar custom.

This splendid bird inhabits Bolivia, and is a very familiar and
bold little creature. The nest is made chiefly of vegetable fibres
and moss, and furnished with a long appendage similar to those
which are made by so many humming-birds, for no conceivable
reason. The nest is lined with hair, probably that of the viscacha,
one of the llamas, and is hung against tne side of a rock or a wall,
sometimes being attached to the wall itself, but generally suspend-
ed from some twig or hanging root. The bird always selects
some spot where the nest can be sheltered by an overhanging
ledge of rock, probably because the very loose structure of the
nest requires that some such precaution should be taken. The
portion of the nest that rests against the wall is always looser than
the remainder of the structure. There are two eggs, of a rather
large size for humming-birds to lay, being about half an inch in
length.

The Chimborazian Hill Star (Oreotrochilus Chimlorazo) also
hangs its nest against perpendicular rocks.

THE CHIMBORAZIAN HILL STAR.

255

This singular bird, like its congener, the White-throated Hill
Star, prefers elevated situations, and is found at still higher alti-
tudes. Specimens are never found less than twelve thousand
feet above the level of the sea, and are frequently seen at the as-
tonishing elevation of sixteen thousand feet, where it thrives in
spite of the extreme cold which continually reigns and checks the
magnificent flowering plants which are so plentiful toward the
foot of the mountain. As may be seen from the name of the
bird, it lives upon Chimborazo, and feeds upon the juices of the
yellow Chuquiraqua insignis, an alpine plant with large blossoms.

Sawbill Iluruuiing-bird. Brazilian Wood N'ymph. White-aided Ilill Star.

It is not a brilliantly-colored bird, the general colors being pale
dusky green, relieved by a splendid emerald patch upon the chest.
The nest of the Chimborazian Hill Star is made chiefly of lichens,
and is hung against the sides of some perpendicular rock, where
it is sheltered by a shelf overhead. There is another Hill Star
which much resembles this species, but does not possess the green
patch on the throat. This species also inhabits a volcanic mount-
ain, being; confined within a narrow zone of some two hundred
yards in width. It is a remarkable fact, that though this species,

256 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

which takes its name of Pichinchian Hill Star from the mount-
ain on which it resides, is placed within thirty miles of the Chim-
borazian Hill Star, neither species is found upon the mountain
which is appropriated to its congener. Pichinchia is in the re-
public of Ecuador.

There is a very remarkable nest made by one of these birds,
called the Sawbill Humming-bird {Grypus ncevius), because the
slender bill is notched in a saw-like fashion on the edges of both
mandibles. These serrations do not reach along the whole bill,
but only to a short distance from the tip. In appearance it is not
so strikingly beautiful as many of the humming-birds, and is chief-
ly remarkable for its reddish throat dotted with white, and having
a black mark down its centre. There are several humminsr-birds

O

which have the serrated edges to the mandibles, and are in conse-
quence called Sawbills, but the present species is the most worthy
of notice with respect to its nest. It is only found in the south
of Brazil.

The nest of the Sawbill is made of fine vegetable fibres, woven
together so as to look like an open network purse, the outer walls
being so loosely made as to permit the eggs and lining to be visi-
ble. Leaves, mosses, and lichens are also woven into the nest, and
are packed rather tightly under the eggs. The edge, however, is
always left loose. The nest is suspended at the end of some leaf,
usually that of the palm.

Mr. Gould mentions that the bird is found in the depths of vir-
gin forests, and is most plentiful about thirty miles from Nova
Fribergo in the months of July, August, September, and part of
October. It is generally seen darting round the orchidaceous
plants which flower so richly in that fertile climate, and is a rath-
er noisy bird, uttering loud and piercing cries, and making a
great whirring sound with its wings as it dashes through the air.
It is very strong and energetic on the wing, and is seldom seen
to alight. That the Sawbill feeds on insects has been satisfacto-
rily proved by the presence of small beetles in the throat of new-
ly-killed birds; and to judge by its actions, the hovering flight
and frequent stoop like that of the falcon, the bird feeds also on
flies and other winged insects.

Although it is necessarily impossible to describe or even enu-
merate one tithe of the interesting nests made by humming-birds,

BRAZILIAN WOOD NYMPH. 257

I must cursorily mention one or two more of the most curious ex-
amples. One of these birds is the Brazilian Wood Nymph
{Thalurania glaucopis), a species which is perhaps more persecuted
than any other, its singular beauty causing its plumage to be
sought after.

The feathers on the crown of the head and front of the throat
are of the most lovely azure, and are largely used by the inmates
of several convents at Eio Janeiro for the purpose of being made
into the beautiful feather flowers which the nuns manufacture so
skillfully. Thousands of these birds are slaughtered merely for
the crest and gorget ; but so prolific are they, and so ingeniously
do they hide their nests, that the persecution of many years has
scarcely diminished their numbers. Moreover, fortunately for
the preservation of the species, the colors of the female are so
dull and sober, that her feathers are of no value, and she is al-
lowed to escape the fate that befalls the more brightly colored
male. It is a lively little bird, and when alarmed utters a hur-
ried cry, sounding like the word "Pip, pip, pip," very sharply
pronounced.

The nest of the Brazilian "Wood Nymph is exceedingly pretty,
and is hung to the tip of some delicate twig, generally that of
one of the creeping plants which trail their long stems so luxuri-
antly over the branches of the great forest trees. The walls of
the nest are made of vegetable fibres, generally taken from the
fruit of some palm, and upon the outside are fastened many patch-
es of flat lichen, so that the whole nest, which is very long in pro-
portion to its width, may easily escape detection.

The second species is to be found in every collection of hum-
ming-birds, and even the glass cases of these creatures which are
sold in the shops are seldom without a specimen of the Euby
and Topaz Humming-bird (Chrysolampts moschitus). It derives
its name from the rich ruby red which decorates the crown of the
head, and the fiery topaz which blazes on the gorget. This spe-
cies has a very wide range of residence, being found throughout
Bahia, all the Guianas, Trinidad, and the Caraccas, and is killed
by thousands for the sake of its plumage. I was about to say for
the sake of its skin, but as that expression would imply that the
humming-birds seen in cases are all skinned and stuffed, it can
not be rightly used.

A stuffed humming-bird is very seldom seen, though thousands

E

258 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

are annually sold under that name. In fact, the birds are so tiny,
and the amount of flesh is so small, that very few persons care to
take the trouble and run the risk of skinning such minute crea-
tures, and content themselves with removing the inside, supply-
ing its place with cotton, inserting wires, as is customary in birds
stuffed according to the present fashion, fixing the birds in appro-
priate attitudes, and then drying them, trusting to the feathers to
cover deficiencies. Of course the soft and rounded contours are
lost by so rough a process, but as the general public that buys
stuffed birds is too uncritical to perceive such defects, and too in-
different to trouble themselves about them, even when pointed
out, the professional taxidermists have no inducement to waste
their time upon tedious and unremunerative work.

We now leave the Humming-birds, and pass to other inhabit-
ants of America.

Still keeping to Brazil, we come upon another pensile bird,
called the Azure Cozreba (Ccereba cyanea). This beautiful little
creature scarcely yields to any of the gorgeous humming-birds in
the glory of its plumage, and far exceeds many of them in the
fiery brilliance of its hues. Blue is the chief color in this Coere-
ba, and,' strange to say, different qualities of blue are found in the
same bird, without jarring with each other, so wonderfully are
they dispersed. and so artistically are the various shades separated
by velvet-black stripes and patches. The greater part of the
body is rich azure, with the exception of a velvet-black stripe that
runs round the crown of the head, and widens into a patch on the
back of the neck. The quill-feathers of the wing are also black,
and a black streak is drawn from the corner of the mouth to the
neck, enveloping the eye in its course.

Separated from the azure blue of the body by the black streak
just mentioned, a large patch of feathers on the. top of the head
grows and flashes with metallic splendor, and is of a vivid verdi-
ter blue.

The nest of the Azure Ccereba is pear-shaped in form, the hol-
low for the eggs and young being in the large rounded portion,
and the slender part of the pear representing the " tail" of the
nest, which is long and slender, like that of many birds which
have already been mentioned, except that instead of being solid
and pointed, it is hollow, and has the opening to the nest in the
extremity. In order, therefore, to reach the nest proper, the bird

BALTIMORE ORIOLE. 259

is obliged to enter from below and climb up the hollow shaft, as
is the case with some of the African weaver birds. The sub-
stances of which the nest is made are long vegetable fibres and
slender grasses, and the manner in which these simple materials
are woven into so beautiful a nest is remarkably ingenious, and
may challenge comparison with the architecture of any other bird.
The Azure Ccereba is a small bird, about the size of our spar-
row, but with a long, slender, and slightly-curved beak, as is most-
ly the case with the large and important family to which it be-
longs. It feeds chiefly on insects, and may be seen busily en-
gaged among the flowers of its native land, flitting from one blos-
som to another, and daintily extracting the minute insects that en-
deavor to conceal themselves within the recesses of the petals.

Still keeping to America, we may see more examples of pen-
sile nests. Two differently -shaped specimens are given in the
following illustration, in order that they may be compared with
each other.

The first in order is that of the Baltimore Oriole ( Tphanies
Baltimore), a pretty bird, colored with orange and black in bold
contrast to each other. Its name is derived, not from any partic-
ular locality, but from the orange and black of its plumage, those
being the heraldic colors of Lord Baltimore, formerly proprietor
of Baltimore. It does not receive the full coloring until its third
year, the orange hues being simply yellow at the end of the sec-
ond year, and having no red in them until the last moult is com-
pleted. So far, indeed, is it from belonging to any particular lo-
cality, that it is spread over a very wide range of country, inhab-
iting the whole of America from Canada to Brazil. The Balti-
more Oriole goes by many names ; some, such as Golden Robin
and Firebird, being in allusion to its plumage, and others, such
as Hang-nest and Hanging Bird, from the beautiful pensile nest
which it makes.

The general shape of these nests is much the same in every
specimen, and a good idea of it may be formed from the illustra-
tion, which was taken from a nest in my own possession. It is
always pensile, and is hung by the rim to the under side of some
slender bough, usually at a considerable elevation from the ground.
It is almost entirely made of vegetable fibres, and is so strongly
constructed that, although it had been knocked about for some
years in the neglected spot whence I rescued it, and was once

2(30

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

Crested Caasiijue.

Baltimore Oriole.

crushed into a shapeless mass at the bottom of a wine-hamper
by a careless servant, and covered with soot and dust, it has re-
tained its form, and shows perfectly well how the fastening to the
branches was managed.

The materials of the nest are, however, extremely variable, the
bird having a natural genius for nidification, and being always
ready to take advantage of any new discovery in architecture.
One of these nests, described by Wilson, was deeper in proportion
than the specimen which has been figured, being five inches in its
widest diameter and seven in depth, the opening being contracted
to two and a half inches. Various materials, such as flax, tow,
hair, and wool, were woven into the walls, which were strength-
ened by horse-hairs, some two feet in length, sewn through and
through the fabric. Cow's hair was also employed for the bot-

BALTIMORE ORIOLE — ORCHARD ORIOLE. 261

torn of the nest, and, like the walls, was sewn together with long
horse-hairs.

The same writer remarks, that "so solicitous is the Baltimore to
procure proper materials for his nest, that in the season of build-
ing, the women in the country are under the necessity of narrow-
ly watching their threads that may chance to be out bleaching,
and the farmer to secure his young grafts ; as the Baltimore, find-
ing the former, and the strings which tie the latter, so well adapted
for his purpose, frequently carries off both. Or, should the one
be over-heavy, and the other too firmly tied, he will try at them
for a considerable time before he gives up the attempt. Skeins
of silk and hanks of thread have often been found, after the leaves
were fallen, hanging round the Baltimore's nest, but so woven up
and entangled as to be entirely irreclaimable.

"Before the introduction of Europeans, no such materials could
have been obtained here ; but, with the sagacity of a good archi-
tect, he has improved this circumstance to his advantage, and the
strongest and best materials are uniformly found in those parts
by which the whole is supported."

This bird is very fearless, and, like some other species, is fond
of the society of mankind, building in gardens and orchards, and
piping its mellow notes within the very streets, in calm defiance
of the roar and rattle of town life. This fearlessness of disposition
enables observers to watch its proceedings very closely, and in
general the bird is found to begin its nest by working the stron-
gest threads or strings round a forked branch, so as to mark out
the entrance, and then by weaving the remainder of the nest upon
the strings. The neatness and strength of construction are, how-
ever, very variable; and it is suggested by "Wilson that the infe-
rior nests are probably made by young and inexperienced birds,
their architectural powers increasing with practice.

A closely allied species, the Orchard Oriole, or Bob-o'-link
(Xanthornis varius), is equally notable for its skill in nest-building,
if such a word may be used of a structure which is begun at the
top and carried downward, after the fashion employed in Laputa.

It is a pretty bird, but not so pretty as the Baltimore Oriole,
and the tints are very differently disposed, scarcely any two indi-
viduals having the colors in exactly the same places. Like the
Baltimore Oriole, it is extremely variable in different stages of its
existence, the young male bearing great resemblance to the ma-

262 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

ture female, and not attaining its full beauty until its third year.
When adult, the whole of the head, neck, upper part of the back,
breast, wings, and tail are deep black, and a rich ruddy chestnut
hue occupies the remainder of the breast, the under parts of the
body, and part of the wing-coverts, some of which are tipped with
white. The young male and the adult female are yellowish-olive
above instead of black, with brown wings, and yellow on the breast
and abdomen ; while the male of the second year has much the
same colors, but is known by a patch of black over the head and
on the throat, together with a few chestnut feathers on the flanks
and abdomen. It is smaller than the Baltimore Oriole, and more
slenderly made.

The nest of this bird is almost as variable in structure as is its
architect in color, its form being accommodated to the situation in
which it is placed. When fastened to a tolerably stout branch,
its depth is less than its diameter, and it is firmly tied in several
directions to prevent the wind from upsetting it. But when it is
slung to a long and slender branch, over which the wind has great
power, and which is swung to a distance of fourteen or fifteen feet
in a smart breeze, the nest is made of much greater depth, and is
of a lighter construction. The weeping willow is a favorite tree
with this bird, as the drooping leaves conceal the nest effectually,
and the delicate twigs can be gathered together so as to support
the entire circumference of the entrance.

Wilson remarks, in allusion to these nests, that they " exhibit
not only art in the construction, but judgment in adapting their
fabrications so judiciously to their particular situations. If the
actions of birds proceeded, as some would have us believe, from
the mere impulses of that thing called instinct, individuals of the
same species would uniformly build their nests in the same man-
ner, wherever they might happen to fix it ; but it is evident, from
those just mentioned, and from a thousand such circumstances,
that they reason, a priori, from cause to consequence, persistently
managing with a constant eye to future necessity and conven-
ience."

The popular name of Orchard Oriole is given to this species
because it is a familiar and bold bird, not in the least fearing the
vicinity of man, but rather seeming to find a protection therein,
and loving to build its pensile nests in orchards. As is the case
with many British birds, it long had an evil reputation which it
did not deserve, and was thought to devour the ripe fruit of the

CRESTED CASSIQUE, OR CRESTED ORIOLE. 263

trees in which the nest was placed. Cultivators now know better,
and are aware that, so far from being a foe, it is one of their best
friends, eating vast numbers of the noxious insects which infest
fruit-trees, and saving many a crop by its exertions to procure
food for itself and young family.

Indeed, one of the nests has been observed to be completely
overshadowed by a large bunch of apples, which had grown over
the entrance, and had absorbed more than half the space through
which the bird was accustomed to enter its home. Yet, although
the destruction of the fruit would have been a positive conven-
ience to the Oriole, not a single apple was touched, and the bird
slid in and out of its nest as cautiously as if it were aware of the
value set on the fruit, and determined not to injure it.

On the left hand of the Baltimore Oriole's nest is represented
a very curious structure swaying in the wind, long, purse-like,
and having the entrance, near the top. This is the nest of the
Crested Cassique, or Crested Oriole (Cacicus cristatus), and
the bird itself is seen clinging to the lower part of the nest.

There are several species of Cassiques, all of which are natives
of tropical America, and build nests of a similar structure. The
Crested Cassique is the largest of the genus, equaling the com-
mon jackdaw in size, and its nest is larger and more striking than
that of any other species. It loves the tallest trees, and may be
seen actively traversing the branches in search of food, pecking
here and there in haste as it trips along, or passing from one tree
to another with a rapid darting flight, snapping at insects as it
dashes through the air. Like the preceding species, it is fond of
human society, and builds its pensile nest close to the habitation
of man, so that its customs can be easily watched.

The bird is a handsome creature, the greater part of the body
being rich chocolate, the wings dark green, and the outer tail-
feathers bright yellow, this color being displayed conspicuously
as the bird flies, particularly when it makes a sharp turn in the
air, and is obliged to spread its tail-feathers rapidly. The beak
of this species is very remarkable, being of a green color, and ex-
tending far up the forehead. The head is adorned with a long*
pointed crest, from which its popular name of Crested Oriole is
derived. In some favored spots these birds are quite plentiful,
producing a beautiful effect, as the variegated plumage gleams
among the foliage, while the bird is engaged in its active quest
after food.

264 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

The nest of the Crested Cassique is of great length, and, as may
be seen by the illustration, has the entrance like that of a pocket.
The opening is rather small when compared with the size of the
nest itself, and the bird always dives head foremost into its home,
its yellow tail flashing a last golden gleam before it disappears.
The nest is strongly built, and the materials are rather coarse, not
in the least resembling the delicate and neatly-rounded fibres of
which many of the weaver nests are made. These nests often
exceed a yard in length, and, owing to their great size, are very
conspicuous, as the wind sways them backward and forward from
the bough.

The same may be said respecting the nests of other Cassiques,
and the stay-at-home reader is often apt to wonder why the trav-
eler does not ascend every tree on which he sees a nest, and bring
it down. There are two reasons why such nests are not so com-
mon in European museums as their number would seem to prom-
ise. One reason is, that the trees are not easily climbed. Some
of them run to a height of eighty or a hundred feet without a
bough ; others have stems of great girth and wondrous smooth-
ness, so that to ascend them is as difficult as to climb a greased
pole at a fair; others again, which do not appear to present any
difficulties, have their stems beset with thorny spikes, from an
inch to two inches in length, as strong as nails and as sharp as
needles.

Supposing, however, that the traveler is a practiced climber,
and always carries with him a rope and climbing spurs, and that
by dint of the pointed spurs sticking into the tree, and the strong
leather gaiters repelling the thorns, and the rope enabling him to
pull himself upward, he has arrived at the branches, he still finds
many an obstacle to overcome. In the first place, distances are
mightily deceptive when viewed from below, and a nest which
appears from the ground to be close to a certain branch, is found
really to be some yards on one side, and as many above.

Most birds, especially the tropical birds, have a custom of pla-
cing their nests at the very ends of boughs, where the twigs could
not sustain the weight of a monkey, much less that of a man, so
"that the adventurous climber finds himself scarcely nearer his ob-
ject than when he stood upon the ground. Such nests can only
be obtained by skillfully throwing a rope around the branch to
which they are hung, drawing it up, severing it as near the nests
as possible, and then lowering the whole to the earth.

CRESTED CASSIQUE, OR CRESTED ORIOLE. 265

Supposing, however, that he has successfully overcome his dif-
ficulties, and has been able to reach the nest, he still finds him-
self in a very awkward position on account of the multitudinous
insects which swarm upon tropical trees, and the majority of
which can either sting or bite savagely. There are many kinds
of wasps, larger, fiercer, and more irritable than the little yellow
and black insect which terrifies us so much in this country, and
these creatures have a habit of fixing their nests among the
branches, where they are concealed by the leaves, and can not be
seen by the climber until he nearly strikes them with his hands.

But the very worst of all his foes are the ants and termites,
which infest the trees to a wonderful degree. The ants are of
various kinds. There are arboreal ants, which make their nests
among the branches, and there are terrestrial ants, which make
their homes under the earth, but ascend the trees in search of in-
sects or to procure materials for their subterranean abode.

The termites, again, are found on many trees, and in some in-
stances actually hollow out the branches, so that when the climb-
er grasps a bough for the purpose of hauling himself up by it,
the treacherous branch breaks in his hands, and pours out a flood
of angry insects, all provided with means of offense, and anxious
to wreak their vengeance on the enemy. Even the natives, ac-
customed as they are to these pests of their woods, and versed in
every method of foiling them, confess themselves worsted by the
ants, and are often forced to yield the point to their tiny foes.

In some cases, they attack so fiercely that the unlucky climber
is perforce obliged to descend the tree with all speed, and envelop
himself in smoke in order to rid himself of his adversaries ; or,
whenever a river flows beneath the branches, the tortured native
is fain to fling himself into it, and to drown off the myriad in-
sects who are burying their jaws, or stings, or both, in his flesh.
A naturalist's labors in a tropical forest are very pleasant reading
at home, but they are not quite so pleasant to perform, even set-
ting aside the chances of fever, and snake-bites, and the certainty
of being sucked by thousands of musquitoes, sand-flies, and other
winged plagues.

Before leaving the American pensile birds, we must briefly
notice one or two other species. The Fly-catchers of all coun-
tries are generally notable for the beauty or eccentricity of their
nests, one of the oddest being that of the Great - crested Fly-

266 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

catcher of America, which always uses the cast slough of snakes
when building its nest. The reason no one seems to know
though several opinions have been offered ; one person thinking
the snake-slough is peculiarly grateful to the young birds which
are intended to lie upon it, and another, that the presence of the
cast slough acts as a scarecrow, and frightens away obnoxious
birds. One conjecture is as good as another, and both are absurd-
ly bad.

The species which we have now to notice is the Red-eyed
Fly-catcher (Mascicapa olivacea) popularly known as " Whip-
Tom-Kelly," from its peculiar articulate cry, which is said to bear
a strangely exact resemblance to the words " Tom Kelly, Whip-
tom-kel-ly," and is uttered so loudly and briskly that it can be
heard at a considerable distance. It inhabits a tolerably wide
range of country, being found from Georgia to the St. Lawrence,
and in many parts is plentiful.

The nest of the Red-eyed Fly-catcher is small and very neatly
made, and, contrary to the usual custom of pensile nests, is placed
near the ground, seldom at a height of more than five feet.
Bushes and dwarf trees, such as dogwood or saplings, are usually
chosen by the bird when it looks about for a branch wherefrom
to hang its nest. A wonderful array of materials is employed by
the feathered architect, which makes use of bits of hornets' nests,
dried leaves, flax fibres, strips of vine bark, fragments of paper
and hair, and binds all these articles firmly together with the silk
produced by some caterpillars. The lining is made of fine grass-
es, hair, and the delicate bark of the vine.

The nest is wonderfully strong — so compact, indeed, that after it
has served the purpose of its architect, it is usurped by other birds
in the following year, and saves them the trouble of building en-
tire nests of their own. Even the mammalia receive some benefit
from the nest, for the field-mouse often takes possession of it, and
rears its young in the pensile cradle.

An allied species, the White-eyed Fly-catcher {Muscicapa
cantrix), builds a very pretty pensile nest, and uses so much old
newspaper in the construction of its home that it has gone by the
name of the Politician. The other materials used in the struc-
ture of the nest are bits of old rotten wood, vegetable fibres, and
other light substances, woven together with wild silk, and the
lining is mostly of dried grasses and hair.

The form of the nest is nearly that of an inverted cone, and it

THE PRAIRIE AND PINE-CREEPING WARBLER. 267

is suspended by part of the rim to the bend of a species of smi-
lax, that is popularly called the prickly vine, and which grows
in low thickets. The bird is very fond of this smilax, and rarely
chooses any other tree for the reception of its nest, so that the
home of the White-eyed Fly -catcher is not very difficult to find ;
moreover, the bird is so jealous and so bold when engaged in
rearing its young, that it betrays the position of the nest by scold-
ing angrily as soon as a human being approaches the thicket, and
by dashing violently at the intruder with impotent rage.

Another pensile species is the Prairie Warbler (Sylvia mi-
nuta), a bird which, as its specific name denotes, is of very small
size, not reaching five inches in total length.

It is a lively little bird, but withal deliberately cool in its move-
ments, flitting about among the foliage and grass with a quick,
though jerking, regular movement, and yet inspecting every leaf
and blade with perfect composure; chirping feebly all the while,
and allowing itself to be watched without betraying any alarm.
The nest of this little bird is unusually small, even when the size
of the feathered architect is taken into consideration, and when
dry weighs scarcely a quarter of an ounce. The materials of
which it is made are moss, mixed with rotten and very dry wood,
fastened together with caterpillar silk, and the lining is made of
very fine and delicate fibres of grape-vine bark.

Our last example of American pensile birds is the Pine-
creeping Warbler (Sylvia pinus), a pretty little species, which
has many of the actions that characterize the titmice, flitting
among the branches like these birds, and hanging head down-
ward from the twigs while looking for insects. Sometimes it
runs along the ground, and is equally active there ; and when
disturbed, it flies upward, and clings to the trunk of the nearest
tree, the whole movement being so peculiar that the bird can be
distinguished at a long distance.

The Pine-creeping Warbler is found in the pine-woods of the
Southern States, where it assembles in little flocks of twenty or
thirty in number. Its nest is suspended from the horizontal fork
of some small branch, and is made of strips of grape-vine bark
and rotten wood, tied firmly together with caterpillar silk. Some-
times the bird finds a hornet's nest, and rightly considering that
the substance of which it is made is the driest and lightest rotten

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

wood that can be obtained, robs the insect, and builds its own
nest with the spoils. The interior of the nest is lined with the
fine roots of plants and dry pine-leaves, which latter materials af-
ford a softer bed than their shape seems to indicate.

As we are near the end of our list of pensile birds, we must
turn to Asia for a specimen as remarkable as any which has yet
been mentioned. This is the nest of the Baya Sparrow, some-
times called the Toddy Bird, a native of several parts of India,
and found in Ceylon.

As may be seen by the illustration, the nests are variable in
shape, and hang close to each other ; indeed, the birds are very
sociable in all their manners, and fly about in great numbers,
flocks of thousands flitting among the branches and displaying
their pretty plumage to the sun. They have no song, and can
only chirp in a monotonous manner ; but the want of song
finds its compensation in the brilliancy of the plumage, which
is mostly bright yellow, the wings, back, and tail being brown.
They are particularly fond of the acacias and date trees, and

PENSILE INSECTS. 269

choose the branches of those trees for the suspension of their
nests.

Sometimes the nest is only made for incubation, sometimes it
is intended merely as an arbor in which the male sits while the
female incubates her eggs, and sometimes it consists of the nest
and arbor united, producing a most curious effect. This " arbor,"
in fact, serves precisely the same purpose as the supplementary
nest of the pinc-pinc and other birds which have already been
described.

CHAPTER XIV.

PENSILE INSECTS.

The Hymenoptera. — Australian Insects. — The Crematog aster and Negro-head.
— The Green Ant, its Habits and Nest. — An African Species. — Pensile Ants of
America. — The Abispa and its remarkable Nest. — Ingenious Entrance. — The
Tatua, or Dutchman's Pipe. — Structure and Shape of its Nest. — Firmness of
the Walls. — Average Number of Cells in each Tier. — The common Wasp as a
Pensile Insect. — Gigantic Nest. — Union of three Colonies. — Character of the
Wasp. — The Norwegian Wasp. — Structure and Locality of its Nest. — Classifica-
tion of the Wasps. — The Campanular Wasp and the Northern Wasp. — The
Chartergus, or Pasteboard Wasp. — Mode by which the Nest is. suspended. —
Method of Structure. — Meaning of the Name. — Enormous Nest from Ceylon. —
Various Wasp Nests. — The Polistes as a Pensile Insect. — Singular Nest in the
British Museum. — The Gibbous Ant. — Honey Wasps, the general Characteris-
tics of their Nests. — The Mtrapetra. — Its singular Nest. — Structure of the
Walls and Use of the Projections. — The Nectarinia. — Why so called. — Locality
of the Nest. — Size of the Insect. — The Trigona and its Nest. — Ichneumon Flies.
— Different Species of Microgaster, and their Habitations. — The Perilitus. —
Weevils. — Beautiful Cocoon of Cionus. — The Emperor Moth and its Home. —
The Atlas Moth and other Silk Producers. — The House-builder Moth and
its movable Dwelling. — The Tiger Moth and its Hammock. — The Cypress-
spurge Moth. — Various Leaf-rollers. — Suspended Cocoon. — Leaf-burrowers
and their Homes. — The Spider.

We now leave the birds, and proceed to the insects which
make pensile nests. Some of them, such as those which will be
first described, do not become pensile architects until they have
attained their perfect state, while many others form their nests,
either as a place of refuge during their larval life, or as an asj^lum
in which they can rest while in the transition state of pupa.

Just as the Hymenoptera are the best burrowers, so are they
the best insect artisans when the nests are suspended, and we
shall therefore take them first in order. The reader will prob-

270 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

ably recall to mind, during the perusal of the following pages, that
several admirable examples of pensile nest-makers are not men-
tioned. The reason for their temporary omission is, that some
of them make their nests of mud, and will therefore be described
under the head of Builders ; while others make their joint homes
on so large a scale that they will be considered under the head of
Social Nest-makers.

Upon the large illustration will be seen several examples of
pensile nests ; and, as many Australian insects are remarkable for
the beauty and singularity of the pensile nests which they build,
I have selected three of the most remarkable instances for illus-
tration. Adhering to the principle which has been followed
throughout the work, the scene of the drawing has been laid in
Australia, and the general contour of the country, the peculiar
foliage, the animals which enliven the scene, and the singular
manner in which a wooded district is often dotted with trees,
have been carefully represented.

In the upper corner of the drawing is seen the large nest of a
remarkable ant, called Or emaiog aster Iceviceps. l'do not know
whether this species has any particular name, but in the Brazils
an allied species goes by the name of Negro-head Ant, because the
nest is round, like the bullet-shaped head of a Negro, and is cov-
ered on the exterior with little projections that are supposed to
resemble the close woolly hair.

. When the ant runs about, it has a curious habit of holding its
abdomen so high in the air that it curves over the back and over-
hangs the thorax, a peculiarity which has earned for the genus
the name of Crematogaster, or " hanging-belly." At first sight
the nest bears a close resemblance to the pensile habitation of cer-
tain wasps, but when subjected to a nearer examination it proves
to be even more complicated, being composed of multitudinous
curved and intricate ramifications, all leading to the interior gal-
leries and cells.

There are other ants which have the habit of carrying the ab-
domen erect, such as Myrmica Kirbii, and Formica elata. The
former of these insects makes its nest in the branches of trees, and
composes it of cowdung, having the art of spreading that singular
material into thin flaky masses, which overlap each other like the
tiles of a house. There is a separate roof to the nest which is
partly dome-like, and projects on all sides beyond the circumfer-

(ECOrilYLLA VIEESCENS

AUISPA EPUIPPIUM.

OI1EMATOGASTER L.EVICEPS.

THE GREEN ANT. 273

ence of the nest. The latter insect fixes its nest in the thicker
branches, and forms it of mixed mud and leaves.

At the foot of the illustration is seen another rounded nest,
also made by an ant called CEcophylla virescens. Travelers know
it by the name of the Green Ant ; a title which is very insuffi-
cient, as it embraces several other species. The name of CEco-
phylla is compounded of two Greek words, the former signifying
a house, and the second a leaf, and is given to this insect because
it makes its home of dead leaves.

This ant is sometimes very troublesome to travelers, who may
unconsciously disturb one of the nests that hang among the
branches, nearly concealed by the leaves. The ants come patter-
ing down like hail-drops, and in a moment he will be covered
with a whole swarm of them, seeking for unprotected parts which
they can wound, and having a special faculty for getting down
the neck.

The nest is about eight inches in diameter, and is made in a
very singular manner. The general mass of its substance is com-
posed of leaves which have been cut by the ants and masticated
until they form a coarse pulp, something like that which is made
by the wasp and hornet, except that the material is green leaves
instead of wood fibres. With this substance the nest is formed,
and is hung among the thickest foliage, being sustained not only
by the branches, but by the leaves, which are worked into the
nest, and in many parts project from its outer wall. The outside
of the nest is easily to be distinguished from that of the Crema-
togaster by the smoothness and regularity of its walls. A spe-
cies of this genus inhabits Africa, and was discovered by Mr. Fox-
croft, who noticed that whenever the ants were disturbed, they
ran about the outside of their nest so fast and in such numbers,
that their pattering steps on the papery covering of the nest de-
luded him into the idea that rain was falling on the leaves
above.

Before describing the third nest in the illustration, which is
the workmanship of a wasp, I will briefly mention one or two re-
markable instances of pensile nests made by ants. One species,
Formica bipinosa, which inhabits Central America, makes use of
the silk-cotton which is produced by the seed-vessels of the cot-
ton-tree {Bomhax ceiba), and makes it into a sponge-like mass,

S

274 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

which much resembles amadou, and, like that substance, is ex-
tremely valuable for stopping violent discharges of blood.

Another ant, Formica merdicola, rivals the Myrmica Kirbii in
the singularity of the material which it uses in the construction
of its nest, employing horsedung for that purpose, and fixing its
home either on the sterns of reeds, at some distance from the
oround, or on the spiny trunks of certain palms. There are also
ants which form their nests from vegetable hairs, such as the
Formica molestans, which employs extremely minute hairs, and
makes with them a nearly globular nest, which is placed in the
petioles and vesicles of different plants.

We now proceed to the third figure in the illustration, placed
upon the tree near the centre. This represents the remarkable
nest of Abispa Ephippium, an Australian insect, belonging to the
wasp tribe.

The nest is not very large, being about three or four inches in
diameter, and rather more in height, exclusive of the entrance
tunnel. The material is clay, kneaded and masticated by the in-
sect until perfectly plastic, and then moulded into a very remark-
able form.

The exterior view of the nest presents a curious outline, show-
ing the pipe through which the insect enters, and which reminds
the observer of the tube constructed by several pensile birds.
Strange as is the external appearance of the nest, a longitudinal
section shows a still more extraordinary construction of the inte-
rior. The tube does not merely act as an entrance, but is carried
about an inch into the interior of the nest, possibly in order to
prevent the young insects from falling out before they are fit to
cope with the world. The bottom of the nest through which it
passes is nearly flat, and the whole shape of the edifice is not un-
like a large clay thimble, with the opening closed by a circular
flat cake of hard mud.

Attached to the ceiling of the nest is a single layer of cells, ar-
ranged without any particular order or regularity ; and it is a cu-
rious fact, that only a single wasp has been observed in the act of
building the nests, or making the interior arrangement.

This is not the only insect that makes entrance tubes to its
nests; for the Trypoxylon aurifrons, a native of the Amazons, has
been noticed to build similar entrances, though much shorter.
This insect will be again mentioned, under the head of Builders.

THE TATUA MORIO.

275

In the accompanying illustration may be seen two specimens
of a remarkable pensile nest that is made by a wasp called Tatua
morio, an insect which is notable for having the basal segment of
the abdomen narrowed into long and slender footstalks, not un-
like that of the Eumenes, and others.

The nest of this species is made of the papery substance used
by many wasps, except that the material is so hard and smooth

as to resemble white cardboard. The general form of the nest is
shown in the engraving, being somewhat like a sugar-loaf, i. e., a
round-topped cone with a flat bottom. It is found in several
parts of Central America ; and in Guiana the nest goes by the
popular name of "the Dutchman's pipe," being supposed to bear,
in shape and dimensions, some resemblance to the pipe-bowl cele-
brated by Washington Irving. The exterior walls are so hard,

276 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

firm, and smooth, that they can withstand any vicissitudes of
weather, neither the fierce storms that blow in those regions, nor
the torrents of rain that occasionally fall, having any power over
an edifice so well protected. f

The tiers of cells are variable in number ; a rather remarkable
fact, as the floors are made before the cells are built. In a good
specimen of this nest in the British Museum there are only four
tiers of cells. How many tiers are completed before the insects
begin to affix cells to them, or whether the cells are made as soon
as the floors are finished, are two points in the history of this
wasp which have not yet been decided. These floors extend com-
pletely to the walls, to which they are fastened on all sides, and
the insects gain admission to the different floors by means of a
central opening, which runs through them all.

In Mr. Waterton's museum at Walton Hall are several speci-
mens of these nests, one of which is cut open so as to show the
interior, as well as the central aperture, the whole of the bottom
being cut away and raised like the lid of a box. The substance
of this nest resembles thin brownish pasteboard, and, as is the
custom with most of the wasp tribe, the cells are placed with
their mouths downward, the nurses being enabled to attend to
their charges by remaining on the floor of the next tier of cells.
Taking one row of cells as an average, I counted twenty-four
from the central aperture to the circumference, thus giving a tol-
erable notion of the number of cells in each tier. The aperture
is not precisely in the middle, so that some rows of cells are nec-
essarily larger than others, but I purposely selected a row which
seemed to afford a fair average.

The common Wasp ( Vespa vulgaris) figures in several capaci-
ties. It has already been mentioned as a Burro wer, deserves
notice as a Social Insect, and must now be briefly described as a
builder of pensile nests.

In the splendid museum at Oxford there is an object which
never fails to attract the notice of visitors, whether entomologists
or not. It is a square glass case, some four feet in height by two
in width, and the interior of this large case is almost entirely
filled by a single wasp's nest. This enormous nest resembles a
turnip in shape, but with the addition of a large knob at the top,
by means of which it is suspended.

Its origin is sufficiently remarkable. On the IStli of July,

TREE WASPS. 277

1857, this nest was found at Coketborpe Park, Oxfordshire, being
then of moderate dimensions, and measuring about five inches in
diameter. It was taken from the • ground, and hung near the
window of a dwelling-house upon the ground floor, so as to give
the inmates facility in procuring food. There was no danger .in
the experiment, for, as has been mentioned on page 165, the wasp
is really a good-natured insect, unless irritated, and can be watched
as safely as the hive-bee.

In order to induce the laborers to work with more assiduity,
the wasps were supplied with food in the shape of sugar and
beer, of which mixture they consumed a large amount, their daily
allowance being a pound of sugar to a pint of beer, and the aggre-
gate weight being two pounds. Under such favorable auspices
they built their nest at a wonderful rate, when they were sud-
denly re-enforced after a singular manner. It so happened that
on the first floor of the house two other wasps' nests had been
placed. The workers of these nests were not fed like their kins-
men below, and, in consequence, about the end of August they
deserted their own house, and united with the more favored
wasps on the ground floor. The three colonies having thus
joined their forces, the nest grew with marvelous rapidity, and at
last attained the gigantic size which has already been mentioned.

In shape it is very irregular, as though the turnip to which it
was compared had been made of a soft, yielding substance, and
had been thrown down and roughly handled. The entrance is
close to the bottom of the nest, and a little on one side, and just
by the opening the nest is flattened, and seems as if it had been
pinched by some giant finger and thumb. For this singular
structure we are indebted to Mr. S. Stone, of Brighthampton.

There are also certain British wasps which always make pen-
sile nests, though none of them are so complicated or so finely
constructed as those of the pasteboard wasps of hotter climates.

These«are popularly called Tree Wasps, and the best known
among these pensile wasps is the insect which is sometimes
known as Vespa Britannica, but which is now named Fespa Nor-
ivegica, and may therefore be called the Norwegian Wasp. I
may here mention that, until a very late period, the history of the
wasp — whether British, or foreign — was in dire chaos, the species,
sexes, and varieties being so confounded together that even the
best entomologists could make nothing of them.

278 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

In Mr. "Westwood's admirable " Classification of Insects," pub-
lished in 1840, the following passage occurs, showing how keenly
an accomplished entomologist could feel the want of sound in-
formation on a difficult subject. In vol. ii. of that work, page
248, Mr. Westwood remarks as follows: "The specific differences
of the British species of wasps require a more minute investiga-
tion than has yet been given to them. This can only be done by
studying the habits of the different species, in conjunction with
individuals of the different sexes, from the nest of each. Thirty
years ago the necessity for such an inquiry was pointed out by
Latreille, who added ' Utinam exergat alius Kirby, qui hanc famil-
iam elucubret' (i e., ' Would that another Kirby would arise, who
would elucidate this family'). But the wasps still remain in as
great or greater confusion than they Vere at that period."

Since that time, the "other Kirby" has arisen in the person of
Mr. F. Smith, who has disentangled the knotty confusion in which
the wasps were enveloped, and has recorded his observations in
the Catalogue of Hymenoptera in the British Museum, published
by order of the trustees in 1858, some forty-eight years after La-
treille had invoked, assistance.

Of the species in question Mr. Smith remarks that it is rare in
the south and west of England, but is not uncommon in York-
shire and plentiful in Scotland. It seems to be a nocturnal insect,
for a collector of lepidoptera found that when "sugaring" trees at
night for the purpose of attracting moths, numbers of these wasps
settled on the sweet bait, and not only were more numerous than
the lepidoptera, but actually resented any attempts at dislodg-
ment.

The nest of this insect is always pensile, and is hung from the
branches of a tree or shrub, the fir and gooseberry being the
favorites. A pretty specimen in our own collection was taken
from a gooseberry-tree in a garden, and another similar nest was
found at no great distance. One of these nests I presented to the
British Museum, and the other is now before me. It is very
small, only having one " terrace," in which are thirteen cells, ar-
ranged in five rows, four being in the central row, and the rest
graduating regularly. It is almost as large as a well-sized turnip
radish, and something of the same shape, supposing the radish to
be suspended by the root, and to be cut off just below the leaves.
The outer envelope is composed of three layers overlapping each
other, which are very fragile, considering the work they have to
perform.

THE CAMPANULAR WASP — THE PASTEBOARD WASP. 279

The wasp itself is prettily marked, and although it is variable
in coloring, can be recognized by the black anchor-shaped mark-
on the clypeus, and the squared black spot on the segments of the
abdomen.

Another species of British Tree Wasp is the Campanular
Wasp (Vespa sylvestris), a species which has received a multitude
of scientific names, but which is not variable in color as that
which has just been mentioned. Though it has a wider distri-
bution than the Norwegian wasp, it is scarcely so plentiful an in-
sect, and is remarkable for an occasional habit of making a sub-
terranean nest like that of the common wasp. The Northern
Wasp (Vespa horealis or arborea) is another of the pensile wasps,
and is mostly found in the north of England and Scotland. Its
nest is built in fir-trees. I may perhaps mention that the tree
wasps may always be distinguished from their subterranean breth-
ren by the color of the antennae, workers and females having the
scape black in the ground wasps, and those which build in trees
having it yellow in both sexes.

The nest of the tatua, which has recently been described, must
not be confounded with that of the Pasteboard Wasp (Charter-
gus nidulans), although both insects inhabit the same country, and
the nest of the latter bears a great external resemblance to the
pendulous nest of the tatua. But, when examined closely, this
nest is seen to have a remarkable addition to its structure, the
hole through which the branch is passed being very large, so as
to permit the nest to swing freely in the wind. In most speci-
mens of these nests the hole is simply made through the thick
upper end of the structure, but in a few examples the pasteboard-
like substance is so moulded that it looks as if a ring had been
added to the top of the nest.

The dimensions of the Chartergus' nest are extremely variable,
each structure appearing to be capable of unlimited enlargement.
The mode by which the wasps increase the size of their pensile
home is equally simple and efficacious. When the number of
the inhabitants becomes so large that a fresh series of cells is re-
quired, the insects enlarge their home with perfect ease, and at
the same time without destroying its symmetry, a point which is
often forgotten when human architects undertake the enlargement
of some fine old edifice. Taking the bottom of the nest as the

280

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

starting-point, they build upon it a series of cells, taking care to
add another row or two to the circumference, so as to increase
the diameter in proportion to the length. They then add fresh
material to the outer wall, which is lengthened so as to include
the new tier of cells, and then the bottom is closed with a new
floor, which in its turn will become the ceiling of the next tier of
cells.

Chartergus Nidulans.

These nests are therefore permanent ; unlike the habitations of
the common British wasps, which are only used for a single sea-
son and then deserted, the few surviving females seeking their
winter quarters elsewhere, and always choosing some fresh spot
for the nucleus of a fresh colony. On the average, a well-sized
nest of the Chartergus is about one foot in -length and of propor-
tionate width, a few being found of larger dimensions, and many
of smaller. Now and then a positive giant of a nest is discovered,
where the colony has not only been undisturbed, but surround-
ing circumstances have been favorable to its continued increase.
The name Chartergus is derived from two Greek words, signify-
ing paper-maker.

One of the largest, if not the very largest of these pasteboard
nests that has yet been discovered, was found in Ceylon, attached
to the inside of a huge palm-leaf, and was of the astonishing
length of six feet. Now, to form an idea of a nest six feet in

THE PASTEBOARD WASP. 281

length is not very easy. It is as easy to write the words six feet
as six inches, but the idea which is to be conveyed is another
matter, the cubical measurement being absolutely enormous.

The gigantic wasp's nest which has lately been described is so
conspicuous an object that, although it is only a little more than
three feet in length, no one can enter the room without noticing
it. But a nest six feet in length is so huge as scarcely to be cred-
ited except from actual sight. Such a nest could hardly be taken
through an ordinary doorway, and there are few houses of the
modern build which could receive it into any room except through
the window after both sashes have been removed. We all know
how conspicuous among ordinary men is one who measures six
feet in height, and we shall form a better idea of the nest in ques-
tion if we reckon it to be equal in length to a "six-foot" man, and
of course to occupy much more space, on account of its bell-like
shape.

Mr. TVestwood mentions the nest of an allied species of wasp,
which is about eight inches in diameter, and is so hard and smooth
on the exterior that it almost seems to be made of pottery instead
of vegetable fibre. This nest is in the museum of the Jardin des
Plantes, in Paris.

I have already mentioned that there are many genera of nest-
making insects, whose habitations are in some degree similar, and
yet present such salient points of difference that they must be
classed under different heads. Such, for example, is the strange
genus Polistes, which is spread over a large portion of the globe,
and which makes so singular a variety of nests. However differ-
ent they may be, there is always one point of union among them
— that the cells are exposed to the air without any covering at all,
and, in consequence, are made of stouter material than those of
ordinary wasps, which protect the cells from the weather by a
covering.

Many of this species make a nest of a nearly circular shape, and
attach it sideways to branches, walls, trunks of trees, or other sup-
ports ; but there is a very curious nest in the British Museum
which is made on a totally different principle, the combs looking
as if they were soft, flexible,, and hung carelessly over a twig.
There are three of these remarkable combs, having the cells very
like those of the common hive-bee, both in shape and size, but all
being of a dark brown hue. The cells are laid on their sides like

282 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

those of the bee, and the combs are long and narrow, looking like
one large comb cut into three strips. This curious nest came
from Si am.

In the accompanying illustration are represented two nests,
both from tropical America, and both found in similar localities.
These are the habitations of two species of wasp, which are re-
markable for their honey-making powers.

In the year 1780, a Spanish officer named Don Felix de Azara
was raised from the rank of captain to that of lieutenant colonel,
and sent to Paraguay, in order to decide a dispute concerning the
limits of the possessions respectively held by Spain and Portugal.

He was then thirty-four years of age, and, being a man of great
energy, set to work out the construction of a map of Paraguay.
This was a Herculean task, occupying thirteen years in its comple-
tion, and forcing De Azara to explore regions before unknown,
and to trust himself to the native tribes, who had never before
seen the face of a white man. While engaged in this occupation,
he made a vast collection of notes upon the native tribes of Para-
guay, as well as upon the beasts, birds, insects, and vegetation, to-
gether with an account of the method by which the Jesuit mis-
sionaries established themselves and ruled the country for many
years.

After his return to Europe in .1801, he published the account
of his travels, and met with the usual fate of those who first pene-
trate into unknown countries. His statements were not believed,
and among those which raised the greatest discredit was an ac-
count of certain wasps which made honey. Some persons said
that the whole statement was a fabrication, and others remarked
that the honey-making insects were simply bees, which De Azara
had erroneously considered to be wasps. Time, however, had its
usual effect, and De Azara has been proved to be perfectly trust-
worthy in his remarks. The two specimens which are represent-
ed in the .illustration are now in the British Museum, and af-
ford tangible proofs that De Azara was right and his detractors
wrong.

The right-hand figure represents the nest of a curious insect,
named by Mr. Adam White Myrapetra scutellarius. The generic
title is not very appropriate, being simply a fanciful name, com-
posed of the names, of two ancient cities, one called Myra, in Ly-
cia, and the other Petra, the capital town of Arabia Petraea.

THE MYRAPETRA.

283

Nectarinia. Myrapetra.

It is much to be regretted that this plan of inventing fanciful
names and giving them to newly-discovered species should have
been so common a practice among systematic zoologists. I hold
that both the generic and specific name of every animal and
plant should be intelligible, and refer either to some peculiarity
of form, habit, color, or locality. There is no great difficulty in
doing so. Greek is a language that affords an inexhaustible sup-
ply of compound words, and even if the nomenclator be no schol-
ar, any one who is moderately versed in the classics would com-
pose the desired names if he were only furnished with the neces-
sary information.

The vagaries in which some nomenclators indulge are so ab-
surd as scarcely to be believed. Firstly, they will invent some
word that exists in no language whatever, merely because the
sound pleases their ears, and they like to amuse themselves with

284 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

the conjectures of future zoologists. Then they will divide the
word into its syllables, and make new words with them. Then
they will break it up into its component letters, and make as
many anagrams as can be pronounced.

It is quite bad enough to name a new species after some par-
ticular friend, or after your favorite dog, horse, or cat, or after
the name of your house ; or, as in the present instance, to name
an American insect after two defunct cities of Asia and Africa.
The former cases show that you have a friend, or a dog, or a cat,
or a horse, as the case may be ; and the latter affords conjecture
that you have a Lempriere's Dictionary. But the allocation of
meaningless syllables in order to form a word which was never
intended to have any meaning at all, is so utterly senseless, and so
completely without excuse, that no words of reprobation are too
strong for it. The very essence of scientific nomenclature is to
convey ideas, whereas the names invented by the delinquents in
question are chosen just because they convey no ideas at all.

Such persons shelter themselves behind the great name of Lin-
naeus, saying that his fanciful separation of the butterflies into
Greeks and Trojans, knights and commoners, was quite as inde-
fensible as thei* own system, and that the name of an ancient
warrior conveys no idea of a butterfly. But in the days of Lin-
naeus, the father of scientific nomenclature, the art was in its in-
fancy, and necessarily crude and imperfect ; and there is no doubt
that if Linnaeus had foreseen the enormous discoveries of later
times, he would have carried out fully the plan which he gener-
ally followed, and have made all his names descriptive.

Scientific nomenclature is of necessity quite complicated and
crabbed enough without the infusion of a meaningless element,
and those authors who introduce such terms are doing their best
to deter future students of zoology, and to render it a repulsive
rather than a fascinating science.

When we look at the remarkable nest which is made by the
Myrapetra, one can not but see a vast number of peculiarities
which would have furnished an appropriate name — a name which
would have stamped upon the mind something of the character
of the insect architect.

This beautiful nest was presented to the Museum in the year
1841 by Walter Hawkins, Esq., and a very elaborate memoir by
Mr. Adam White is to be found in the "Annals of Natural His-
tory," vol. vii., page 315.

THE MYRAPETRA. 285

On looking at the exterior of the nest, our attention is at once
excited by the material of which it is made, and the vast number
of sharp tubercular projections which stud its surface. In color
it is dark, dull, blackish-brown, and its texture somewhat resem-
bles very rough papier-mache. On examining it with a pocket
magnifier a matted structure is plainly visible, as if it were made
of short vegetable fibres. This appearance accords with the ac-
counts of the natives, who say that it is made from the dung of
the capincha, one of the aquatic cavies of tropical America.

The whole of the exterior is thickly studded with projections,
varying in size and shape, but being all of some sharpness at the
tip. These projections are comparatively few at the top of the
nest, becoming gradually more numerous as they approach the
bottom, until at last they are set so thickly that the finger can
scarcely be laid between them.

The object of these projections is not ascertained. The nest
always hangs very low, seldom being more than three or four feet
from the ground, and some writers say that the office of the sharp
projections is to guard the nest from the attacks of the felidoe and
other honey and grub-loving mammalia. Such may indeed be
the true explanation, and indeed it is so obvious that no one could
avoid seeing it. But I very much doubt whether a far better ex-
planation is not in store, and I can not see why the Myrapetra
should stand in need of such protection, when the nest of the
Nectarinia, which is placed in precisely the same conditions, is
perfectly smooth and defenseless.

One use of the projections is evidently for the double purpose
of concealing and protecting the entrance. On looking at the
nest from above, no entrance is visible, and it is not until after a
close examination that the openings are found. They are con-
cealed under a row of the projections, which overhang them like
the eaves of a house, and effectually keep off the rains which fall
in such heavy torrents during tropical storms. The material of
which these projections are made is the same as that of which the
walls of the nest are built, except that it is very much thicker and
harder, the various layers being hardly distinguishable, even with
a good magnifier.

The interior of the nest is as remarkable as its exterior.

When cut open longitudinally, an operation which was care-
fully performed by Mr. White, a very curious sight presents it-
self. The nest is filled with combs, all very much curved, and

286 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

these curves accommodating themselves beautifully to the gen-
eral form of the nest. At the top is a nearly globular mass of
brown, paper-like substance, which is apparently the nucleus of
the nest. The first comb closely surrounds this globular mass,
leaving only a small interval between them, so that it forms part
of a hollow sphere, and a section of it would present a form like
that of the capital letter C laid on its back.

The rest of the combs follow in regular order, the curve of each
becoming shallower, until the last is but slightly depressed in the
centre. They are carried to the sides of the nest and thereto at-
tached, except in a few places, where an open space is left between
the edge of the comb and the side of the nest, so as to allow the
wasps to have access to the different tiers of cells. As is the case
with most of the wasp tribe, the tiers are single, and the mouths
of the combs are all downward.

The depth of the cells, and consequently the thickness of the
combs, varies according to their position in the nest, the upper
cells being the largest, and those below the smallest. The lon-
gest cells are from five to seven lines in length, and the shortest
about two lines. The material of which they are made is the
same as that of which the exterior is formed, and is of quite as
dark a color. In texture, however, it is much slighter, being very
thin and paper-like. These cells extend to the very edges of the
combs, of which there are fourteen in the present specimen. The
length of the nest is sixteen inches, and its diameter in the wid-
est part is one foot.

In the upper combs was discovered a quantity of honey, which,
when it was found, was hard and dry, of a deep brownish-red,
and without either taste or scent. De Azara mentions that him-
self and some of his men ate the honey of the Myrapetra, and
that it was of a deleterious character. Another species of honey-
making wasp, Polisies Licheguana, a native of Brazil, was discov-
ered by M. St. Hilaire, who mentions that it lays up in the nest a
large provision of honey, which is very injurious to mankind, on
account of the poisonous plants from which it is taken. Polisies
gallica also fills its cells with honey, which, however, does not
seem to be poisonous.

Within the nest were found also the remains of insects. There
was the body of a black fly, which belongs or is allied to the genus
Brbio, and the remains of a neuropterous insect, which apparently
belongs to the genus Hemerobius.

THE NECTARINIA ANALIS. 287

The Myrapetra itself is of variable size, the largest being about
four lines in length, and rather more than half an inch in expanse
of wing. It is of a dusky brown color, and is remarkable for
having the first joint of the abdomen very much lengthened and
narrowed, so that it somewhat resembles the same organ in the
Pelopasus.

At the left hand of the same illustration may be seen a rather
large globular nest, suspended from the boughs. This nest is
shown in the position which it usually occupies, namely, hidden
in the dark recesses of the Brazilian forest, amid the varied vege-
tation which grows so profusely in the hot and wet parts of the
country which the insect frequents.

The name of the species which makes this nest is Nectarinia
analis, a title which is significant and appropriate enough, but
which is rather unfortunate, inasmuch as it has already been ap-
plied to a genus of birds, the well-known honey-suckers of Africa
and India, which are so frequently mistaken for humming-birds,
on account of their small size, their brilliant plumage, their slen-
der beaks, and their fondness for flowers.

This is not nearly so beautiful a nest as that which has just
been described, the combs being devoid of regularity, and piled
upon each other, as if the insect had no settled plan on which to
work, and put each comb in any place where there happened to
be room for it. Irregular, however, as the structure may seem,
it is not without a kind of order ; for though the combs look as if
they had been placed in a heap, and then rolled together, so as to
assume a partially spherical shape, they are at all events made
with the intention of forming that shape, so that they may be in-
cluded under a single covering. In the specimen in the British
Museum, the outer wall of the nest has been broken away in sev-
eral places, so as to permit the combs to be seen.

The entrance for the insects is very small, and when the re-
spective dimensions of the wasp and the nest are taken into con-
sideration, it seems really wonderful that when the inhabitants
enter their house, they do not lose themselves in the intricate
windings through which they pass from one comb to another.
The wasp which makes this nest is bee-like in form, and very
small, not a quarter of an inch in length, and bearing some re-
semblance to those tiny solitary bees that are seen so plentifully
upon dandelions and various umbelliferous flowers.

288 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

The nest is always hung near the ground, quite as low as that
of the Myrapetra, and is suspended from the slender twigs and
long, delicate leaves which are woven into its substance, and in
many places pierce completely through the nest, and project
through the outer covering. It is, however, destitute of the sharp
projections which guard the home of the latter insect, and as the
outer wall is both thin and fragile, it would fall an easy prey to
any insect-eating animal that might take a fancy to it. I can not
but think that this utterly defenseless state of the Nectarinia's
nest affords a proof that the spikes upon the habitation of the
Myrapetra are not for the purpose of defending the nest against
the attacks of enemies.

As is the case with the Myrapetra, the cells are made with walls
much firmer than those of our English wasps or hornet, which
are only intended to hold successive generations of young, and in
consequence are made of a comparatively flimsy material, only
strengthened very slightly at the entrance. Were honey to be
placed in the cell of any known British wasp it would immediate-
ly soak into the walls of the cell, and thence escape by slow de-
grees ; but as the young grub, which is the only tenant of the cell,
is without feet and is not in the least formed for locomotion, a
very slight partition is sufficient to control its movements.

The grub does nothing but hold to the end of the cell with its
piercers, open its mouth for food, and occasionally protrude or
withdraw itself in a very slight degree; and its utter immobility
in the larval and pupal states affords a strange contrast to the
restless and fussy activity which actuates it after it has attained
its perfect form.

As is generally known, the nests of wild honey-bees are placed
in the hollows of trees. Mr. Cotton, the well-known apiarian,
remarked, when discussing the comparative merits of straw and
wooden hives, that in a state of nature the bee never builds in a
truss of straw, but in a hollow tree. Now, although I quite con-
cur with that author in his partiality for the wooden hive, I can
not see that the illustration which he employs has any thing to
do with the subject, or that it affords the least proof on either
side of the argument. Wild bees are not very likely to find
trusses of straw in the woods, and those trusses conveniently hol-
lowed to receive them. But I do think that if a few common
straw hives were set in the woods, the bees would be as likely to
take up their habitation in them as in the hollows of trees.

HONEYBEES — THE BURNET ICHNEUMON. 289

Still, among honey-bees, of which there are several species,
the custom of nesting in hollow trees is almost universal. Bee-
hunters, whether biped or quadruped, whether man, bird, ratel,
or bear, search for their sweet spoil in the trees, and know by ex-
perience when a tree is likely to contain honey-combs. But in
certain parts of tropical America the bees change their habits.

There is a genus of wild honey-bees, named Trigona, the mem-
bers of which are notable for their bold departure from ordinary
bee customs. They make their nests at the tops of the branches,
it is true, but they do not place their combs inside the hollow
trees, of which there is great store in the woods. The Trigonas
make nests of a pear shape, and of tolerable size, and hang them
at the very summit of trees and at the end of the slenderest twigs,
so that even the agile monkeys of that land, aided with their long,
prehensile tails, are unable to reach the nest.

It is somewhat remarkable that the habit of this insect should
be so different from the usual custom, and the more so that a
closely-allied species, inhabiting the same country, and which pos-
sibly belongs to the same genus, makes its nest in trees according
to the ordinary type, and places its combs within the hollows of
decaying trees. The honey of this bee is described as being ver}-
sweet and richly flavored — so richly, in fact, that very little of it
can be taken.

A creature is upon our list of pensile insects, which may also
be reckoned among the social or parasitic insects, but which
makes its habitation in such a manner that its proper place is
among the pensiles. This is the pretty little ichneumon which
is known to entomologists as Microgaster alvearius. The name
Microgaster is of Greek origin, and signifies "little belly," this
being a very appropriate name for this insect, whose abdomen is
of very small dimensions, and indeed appears to be just a little
supplementary growth which might be removed without causing
any inconvenience to the insect. It belongs to the same genus
as a very common insect called Microgaster glomeratus, which will
be duly described when the parasitic animals are under consider-
ation.

With regard to this insect I have been rather fortunate, hav-
ing found many specimens of the nests, and bred from them sev-
eral hundred insects.

Although plentiful enough in certain places, the Burnet Ich-

T

290 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

NEUMON, as I shall venture to call this species, is very local, anjl
while abounding in one place, may never be seen in another spot
at the distance of a very few hundred yards. I give it the popu-
lar name of Burnet Ichneumon for the same reason — comparing
great things with small — that Caius Martius bore the title of Co-
riolanus, and Publius Cornelius Scipio was termed Africanus,
namely, that it destroys so many Burnet Moths.

In its perfect state the Ichneumon looks like a rather small
gnat, and would probably be mistaken for that insect by a non-
entomological observer. When examined through an ordinary
magnifying glass, it is seen to possess a wondrous beauty which
no one could ever suspect when looking at it with the unaided
eye. The body and head are of a pale yellow color, except the
prominent compound eyes, which are dark blackish-brown. The
head is round and rather small, but the thorax is of enormous
size, quite as proportionately large as the chest of a man would
be did it project some eighteen inches in front and reach to his
heels.

In singular contrast to the huge thorax is the very tiny abdo-
men, which is of a retort shape, curved, and fixed in the upper
surface of the thorax by its smaller end. Indeed, the abdomen
bears the same relation to the thorax that the " tick" in the capi-
tal letter Q does to the whole of the letter. The limbs are long,
and, when the size of the insect is considered, are singularly pow-
erful, especially the last pair of legs. We think the legs of the
kangaroo are enormously large in proportion to the size of its
body, but they must be doubled in length as well as in thickness
to equal those of the Burnet Ichneumon. The fore-limbs are not
so very large, but they are long and possessed of great clasping
power, aided by the hooked feet.

What, then, is the use of such powerful limbs? The habits of
the insect supply the answer.

As is the case with many ichneumon flies, this insect — which,
by the way, is not a fly, but a near relation to the bee and ant —
deposits its eggs upon caterpillars, boring holes in their skin with
its pointed ovipositor, which is the analogue of the bee's sting,
and inserting its eggs in the perforations. As may naturally be
imagined, the caterpillar has a very strong objection to this pro-
ceeding, and when the ichneumon settles upon it, and begins to
use her weapon, twists and wriggles about like a captured eel.

Now the strong limbs of the ichneumon come into play. Mi-

THE BURNET ICHNEUMON. 291

nute as is the insect when compared to the caterpillar, bearing
about the same relationship that a rabbit bears to an elephant, the
legs are so long that they can include a considerable portion of
the skin in their embrace, and so strong that they can retain their
hold in spite of the contortions with which the caterpillar tries
to rid itself of its persecutor. Retaining her place, therefore, the
ichneumon deposits a great number of eggs in the poor caterpillar,
and then goes to find another victim.

I am not sure whether or not the ichneumon makes a separate
wound for every egg. If so, the feelings of the caterpillar are not
to be envied, for I have found nearly a hundred and fifty ichneu-
mon larvae in the body of a single caterpillar. No wonder that
the persecuted being endeavors to fling off the creature that is in-
flicting so many wounds. The numerous short and bristle-like
hairs with which the legs are thickly clad are doubtless useful in
retaining the hold of the insect.

The long and slender many-jointed antennas are also covered
with a thick down, which has an iridescent effect when the light
plaj^s on those organs, and during the life of the insect has a most
beautiful effect, owing to the restless, quivering movements which
characterize all the antennas ichneumons, and which at once serve
to distinguish those insects at a glance.

The chief beauty, however, of the insect lies in the wings. To
the naked eye they are simply colorless, transparent appendages,
with a little black spot on the outer edge of the upper pair. But
when placed under a magnifier, and with the light properly di-
rected upon them, they blaze out in iridescent glory that almost
fatigues the eye with its resplendence. One of these insects is
now under the microscope before me, a low power of only thirty-
six, diameters being used, so that each wing appears to be about
three inches in length ; and in order to give an idea of the extra-
ordinary coloring of these apparently transparent organs, I will de-
scribe as far as I can the appearance of the right-hand upper wing.

The material of which it is made is a translucent membrane, ap-
pearing single with this low power, but shown by a higher power
to be double. The wing is traversed by numerous nervures to sup-
port it, as the tracery of a Gothic window supports the glass, and
which divide it into numerous compartments, technically called
cells, each of which is known by name to entomologists. The
whole of the membrane is covered with very minute hairs, dotted
at regular intervals, like the holes in perforated zinc, and as each

292 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

of these hairs is in fact a minute prism, thej break up the light
into the well-known prismatic colors.

Upon the outer edge of the wing is a triangular black spot,
which is not transparent, and serves as a foil to show off the lovely
colors by which it is surrounded. The whole upper part of the
wing is pale yellow, passing, by the gentlest imaginable transition,
through delicate rays into lively pink, of the character termed
" rose-carmine." Toward the lower edge of the pink a slight in-
fusion of blue steals in, being first purple and then changing to
azure. Here the colors are abruptly cut by a nervure, and one
of the large cells next comes into view. This cell is wonderfully
beautiful, for the colors are no longer subdued, as is the case with
the upper part of the wing, but are startling from their extreme
brilliancy. The circumference of the cell is emerald, inclosing
three distinct centres of coloring, which seem to divide the cell
into three parts. The upper division consists of a large emerald
patch, changing in the centre by imperceptible gradations to gold-
en green. Immediately below the green comes a patch of fiery
ruby, edged on one side with azure and on the other with golden
yellow. The third, or lowermost division, is chiefly blue, edged
on one side with ruby and on the other with golden yellow. Thus
we have in this one cell three centres of color, each centre being
one of the three primary colors, and changing by degrees to the
secondaries and tertiaries. The next cell is colored in a similar
manner, except that the colors which form the centre of the di-
visions in the last-mentioned cell form their circumferences in this
case ; and the base of the wings fades off into delicate shades of
pink and rays of golden yellow like the tip.

Now it must be borne in mind that the microscope has nothing
to do with the production of these colors, but is limited to their
exhibition. These wondrous colors already exist, although they
are on so small a scale that the unassisted eye fails to separate
them, and so they are blended together and appear to be colorless.
I mention these apparent platitudes because, while exhibiting the
microscope, I have found many persons falling into the error of
supposing that the wondrous beauties which they see are due either
to the excellence of the instrument or the skill of the operator.

After the Burnet Ichneumon has laid the eggs she leaves them
to be hatched in the animal, which is generally, but not always,
the caterpillar of the Burnet Moth (Anthrocera filipendiilai), itself a
pensile insect. This is not always the case, as one of my group

THE BURNET ICHNEUMON. 293

of Burnet Ichneumons proceeded from the body of a caterpillar
belonging to the geometridas. It was too much shriveled for
identification, but it was about as large as the larva of the swallow-
tailed moth.

In the body of the caterpillar they live until the larval stage
is nearly completed, and then they burst on all sides through the
skin of their victim, proceed to a small twig, and there weave a
number of cocoons. These cocoons are about the eighth of an
inch in length, cylindrical in shape, set closely side by side and
fastened firmly together, so as to form a flattish mass extremely
variable in shape and size, the latter depending on the number
of cocoons. One of these masses now before me consists of one
hundred and seventeen cocoons, and its shape is that of a segment
of a circle, fixed to the twig by the fiat side.

The ends of the cocoons are both closed, but when the young
ichneumon is hatched it makes its exit by cutting a circular flap
from one end of the cocoon, pushing the flap outward and then
creeping into the air. The insects are quite indifferent as to the
end of the cocoon through which they escape, and in the example
before me nearly two thirds of the creatures have escaped out of
one end and the remaining third out of the other.

The texture of these cocoons is very firm and stiff, and the silk-
en material is so closely fitted together as to be completely water-
proof. The microscope shows that the exterior of the cocoon is
composed of white silken fibres matted tightly together, and rath-
er rough, while the inside of the circular flap shows that the in-
terior of each cocoon is smooth, hard, and of a pale yellow hue.

The longest and largest cells occupy the centre of the mass,
while those at either end are shorter, smaller, and fewer, being
about one fifth of the entire number. Knowing the customs of
most hymenopterous insects, we may conclude that the females
occupy the centre and the males the extremities.

There is a very remarkable pensile cocoon constructed by the
larva of another hymenopterous insect belonging to the same
family as the Burnet Ichneumon, and placed in the genus Cryptus.

The insects of this genus seem to construct a strange variety
of cocoons, some being white, some yellow, and some banded and
mottled with black. The most remarkable forms, however, are
those in which the cocoon is attached to a thread some inches in
length, the other end of which is fastened to a bough or a leaf.

294 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

Heaumur, who discovered these curious objects, found that when
the cocoon was detached from the branch and laid on the table it
sprang to a distance of several inches, probably because the in-
closed insect was able to bend itself and then suddenly straighten
the body.

Reaumur believes that the Ichneumons which make these pen-
sile cocoons are parasitic on the processionary caterpillars, because
he found them plentiful near the nests of these insects.

How the cocoons are made and suspended is quite a mystery.
Mr. Westwood offers a suggestion that, before changing into the
pupal state, the insect spins its thread to the required length, and,
while still suspended at the end of its rope, spins the cocoon,
which thus becomes fastened to the thread. In a future page
will be described a cocoon woven on a similar plan, but made by
the caterpillar of one of the moths.

Mr. Westwood mentions that when examining the cocoon of
the Cryptus, he found that it was composed of three distinct lay-
ers, that on the exterior being composed of loose silk, which could
be wound off like that of the common silkworm, but that the two
interior layers were very shining, smooth, and of a gummy mem-
braneous texture, thus agreeing with the cocoons of the Burnet
Ichneumon.

Our last example of the pensile nests formed by the hymen-
optera is a truly remarkable one. For some time I could scarcely
decide upon its place in the present work, whether it was to be
ranked as an example of the pensiles, social insects, or builders.
On account, however, of the locality which is chosen for it, and
the peculiar method by which it is attached to the branch, I have
decided upon placing it among the pensile nests.

It has already been mentioned that the members of the genus
Polistes are in the habit of building their cells in the open air,
and leaving them without covering to defend them.

The shape, material, and arrangement of the comb is extremely
variable ; some, as that which has already been mentioned, hang-
ing their cell-masses to the branches, just as if a number of bee-
combs were simply hitched on the twig by the simple process of
boring a hole in the upper part of the comb, and pushing the twig
through it; others, again, making their cells of mud, in a nearly
globular shape, and fastening them on the branches like so many
berries. The species, however, which make the cells represented

POLISTES.

295

in the illustration is one of the most remarkable, and so elegant
is the form of the combs, and so singular the method of their at-
tachment, that I have had them drawn nearly of the natural size.
Generally, the shape of the comb is nearly round, as is seen in
the upper figure of the illustration. The cells are remarkable
for their radiating form, the bases being a trifle smaller than the
mouths, a peculiarity which would hardly be noticed in a single
cell, but which produces the spreading outline when a number of
them are massed together.

Nests of Polifltes.

Some of the cells, those in the middle for example, are much
longer than the others, and in the specimens in the British Mu-
seum many of them are closed at the mouth, showing that the in-
sect is within, and has not yet attained its perfect state. Those
on the circumference, however, are much shorter, and are entirely
empty, not having been yet occupied. It is very possible that

296 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

these cells would have been lengthened had the insects been left
to themselves.

Although the circular shape is mostly the rule with these
combs, so that they look something like withered dahlias or
chrysanthemums, it is not the invariable form. If the reader will
look at the lower figure in the illustration, he will see that it is
much wider than long, and is apparently composed of two of the
circular combs fixed together.

Now comes the curious part of the structure. The combs are
not fastened directly to the branches, but are attached to foot-
stalks which spring from their centre, and are firmly cemented
upon the branch or twig. How wonderfully the insect must
manage the comb so that it shall be balanced on this slender
footstalk ! To preserve the equilibrium of even an empty comb
would be difficult enough, but when the cells are filled with fat,
heavy grubs, the difficulty must be multiplied with every one.

The footstalks are made of the same papier-mache like sub-
stance as the cells, only the layers are so tightly compressed to-
gether that they form a hard, solid mass, very much like the lit-
tle pillars which support the different stories of an ordinary
wasp's nest, but of much greater size. The position of the combs
is extremely variable, some being nearly horizontal, and others
perpendicular, as shown in the illustration. These nests came
from Bareilly, in the East Indies.

Having now completed our notice of the pensile hymenoptera,
we turn to another order of insects. ■

We can hardly expect to find that any of the beetles can be
ranked among the pensile insects, their appearance and general
habits being opposed to such an idea. The variety of nests made
by the hymenoptera lead us at once to conjecture that some of
them may be pensile, for it is at least likely that the little archi-
tects which can construct the marvelous system of the honey-
comb, or the complicated galleries of the ant's nest, or contrive
the wonderful homes of the leaf-cutter bees, would be also able
to make nests which could be suspended from leaves or branches.
But there is nothing in the general history of beetles which could
lead us to place them among the pensile insects, a rank, however,
which can be taken by a very few species, most of which belong
to a single group.

This group is that of the Curculionida?, or Weevils, and there

WEEVILS. 297

are a few species of these long-snouted beetles •which make for
themselves certain pensile habitations of a most elegant form.
Two genera of Weevils are remarkable for the beauty of their
cocoons, namely, the Hypera and Cionus.

If the reader should desire to possess specimens of these co-
coons, he can not do better than procure some seeds of the com-
mon species of Verbascum, say the Great and White Mulleins
(Verbascum Thapsus and Lychnitis), and sow them in sandy or
gravelly soil. The beetles of the genus Cionus feed on the mul-
leins, and when they are about to change into the pupal state, do
not trouble themselves to leave the plant upon which they have
been feeding. So fond are these beetles of the Verbascum, that
Mr. Stephens found on a solitary plant, which was growing in a
garden at Eipley, all the five species of the genus.

During the month of August the larva may be found in the
flowers and seeds, and one species burrows into the leaves them-
selves, getting between the two membranes, and feeding on the
soft green parenchyma. When the larva are about to enter the
pupal state, they cease from feeding, and spin for themselves co-
coons of a most remarkable shape. The cocoons are very small,
being on the average about as large as sweet peas, and nearly as
globular. They are constructed of a rather stiff and glutinous
thread, which is so wonderfully twined as to form large open
meshes of a nearly circular form.

The cocoon is very firm and elastic, feeling and looking very
much like those hollow spheres and cjdinders that artists in hair
are so fond of making. The open meshes are so large that the
inclosed pupa can be seen through them, so that there is but lit-
tle protection from the elements. A very good idea of the gen-
eral appearance of the cocoon may be obtained from the toys
which are made from nuts by neat-handed school-boys, by the
simple process of boring them full of holes until the shell is re-
duced to a kind of wooden network with circular meshes.

All the beetles of the genus Cionus are pretty little creatures,
very hard shelled, nearly as globular in form as the cocoon, and
marked with dark patches and streaks.

The cocoons of the genus Hypera are also made with open
meshes, and of a similarly stiff thread, but the form is oval in-
stead of round. The larva of the Hypera is long and narrow,
having its rings or segments very deeply cut, covered with bristle-
like hairs, and having some light lines along the back and sides.

298 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

The "Charancon de la Patience" of De Geer is a beetle of this
genus. In both cases the cocoons are affixed to the under side
of the leaves, whether they are attached to the mullein or the
heath, so that they are not readily seen except by careful ob-
servers, who know where to look for them. In the insect room
at the British Museum there is a beautiful series of these delicate-
ly formed cocoon;; still adhering to the dry and shriveled leaves
of the plant on which the beetle had fed.

We now come to the pensile lepidoptera, of which a number
of specimens will be mentioned. They all belong to the moths,
the pensile butterflies being content with suspending themselves
by a couple of threads, without taking the trouble to build or spin
a nest.

One of the most beautiful of these nests is the cocoon of the
common Emperor Moth {Satumia pavonia-minor). The moth
itself is very beautiful, with its broad, soft-plumaged, pink-eyed
wings ; but it is even equaled by the larva in beauty of color, a
phenomena not very usual among the lepidoptera. The rings or
segments of the caterpillar are rounded and deeply cut, and are
remarkable for the tufts of golden - colored bristles with which
they are covered, each tuft springing from a raised and rounded
tubercle. The body itself is of a beautiful leaf-green.

The cocoon which is made by this remarkable insect is ex-
tremely beautiful, though its beauty does not appear to a careless
observer. Some twenty years ago, when I first began to study
practical entomology, and had no access to the books that were
then published on the subject, I took to breeding every caterpil-
lar that could be found, not having the least idea what kind of
being would issue from it. Among them was a caterpillar which
struck my fancy so much, by its green body and golden tufts, that
I made a colored drawing of it, and constructed for its benefit a
separate cage, wherein it lived for some little time, and then spun
a silken cocoon of a flask-like shape, very rough and loose on the
exterior.

Some time afterward, upon looking into the box, I saw a beau-
tiful moth clinging to the side. How the creature had gained
admission I could not conceive, for the cocoon seemed to be per-
fectly intact, and to exhibit no signs that an insect had broken
through the walls. Concluding, however, that the moth might
have crept into the box without my knowledge, or might have

THE EMPEROR AND ATLAS MOTHS. 299

been placed there by some kind friend, I set it, and watched the
cocoon as usual. After a whole year had passed, I thought that
there must be something wrong, and so took out the cocoon and
carefully cut it open.

The mystery was at once explained. "Within were the cast
shell of the chrysalis, and the dried, shriveled skin of the cater-
pillar, crushed up into a very small space, but recognizable by the
hairy tufts. The manner in which the moth had escaped was
also evident. Taking as our model a common Florence oil-flask,
from which three fourths of the neck have been removed, we
shall obtain a clear notion of the method by which the cocoon is
made, so as to allow the egress of the moth, and at the same time
to show no aperture through which the creature had emerged.

Let us suppose the material to be stiff, bristle-like hair, and
that the body of the flask is made stiff and firm by cementing the
hairs together, while they project loosely at the neck. Now let
us farther suppose that these projecting hairs are all bent inward,
so as to cross each other slightly, and we shall have a tolerably
correct idea of the manner in which the cocoon of the Emperor
Moth is made. It will be seen that, if a creature try to push its
way out from the inside, the hairs will yield and allow it to pass,
but that if any insect tries to push its way in from the outside,
the converging hairs are pressed tighter together, and effectually
debar it from gaining admission.

This beautiful structure is not visible until the observer strips
away a thick, loose coating of yellow- white silk which covers the
cocoon, and probably acts as a non-conductor of heat as well as a
protection from the weather. This cocoon may be found upon
the plant on which the insect feeds, but the best method of pro-
curing perfect specimens is by searching for the caterpillars and
feeding them until they change.

Ox the right hand of the accompanying illustration may be
seen a large moth flying downward, and just above it are a couple
of oval objects attached to a slender bough. This moth is that
magnificent insect the Atlas Moth (Saturnia Atlas), and the
oval objects are the cocoons which are spun by its larva.

The Atlas Moth belongs to the same genus as the emperor
moth which has just been described, and is a truly splendid in-
sect, though without the beautiful colors which decorate the em-
peror. Creamy white, soft yellow, and pale brown are the chief

300 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

tints of the Atlas Moth ; but they are so beautifully blended, the
plumage is of so downy a softness, and the expanse of wing is so
great, that the Atlas holds its own even amid the more vividly-
colored lepidoptera of its own country.

Oikttirus and Atlas Moth.

There are many members of this genus scattered over the dif-
ferent parts of the earth, the finest and largest specimens being
found between the tropics. In all the species the antennas of the
males are remarkable for their beauty, being deeply feathered,
and shaped something like a spear-head with a triangular blade,
and in many examples there is a loose, membranous, talc-like
spot in the middle of the wing.

The cocoons of the Atlas Moth are made of silken thread,
much like that of the common silkworm, the cocoon being large
in proportion to the size of the moth, and the quantity of silk is

THE AILANTHUS SILKWORM — THE HOUSE-BUILDER MOTH. 301

necessarily very great Although the thread is not so fine or
glossy as that of the ordinary silkworm, it is strong, smooth, and
serviceable, and capable of being woven into fabrics of much
utility.

The well-known Eria silk of India is produced by an insect
closely allied to the Atlas Moth, Altacus ricini. This silk is very
loose in texture, and, being without gloss, has a rather flimsy look.
In reality, however, it is possessed of peculiar strength.

One large species of silk-producing moth, also allied to the
Atlas, is the Ailanthus Silkworm. The Acclimatization So-
ciety is endeavoring to introduce this useful insect into this coun-
try, and so to make England a silk-producing country. We have
not sufficient mulberry-trees to feed silkworms in such numbers
as would make their employment profitable, and thus the ordi-
nary silkworm is rather beyond our reach. But the insect in
question feeds on the Ailanthus glandulosus, a tree which has been
imported from China, and thrives wonderfully in the open air.
In March, 186-1, 1 saw a young sapling about three feet in height
that had sprung from a seed sown in March of the previous year.

This insect is very hardy, and after it has been hatched and
fed for a little time like the ordinary silkworm, it is laid on the
growing leaves and left to shift for itself. The caterpillar is
nothing of a wanderer, and does not attempt to straggle from
the tree, being content to stay and make its cocoon among the
branches. The moth is colored like the Atlas, being mostly of
a grajnsh-yellow, with some markings of dull violet, and some
spots of black and white. The caterpillar is green marked with
black.

There is a North American species of moth — also one of the
Atlas Moth's numerous allies — which displays a wonderful piece
of ingenuity in suspending its cocoon. This is the insect called
Saturnia Promethea, which lives in the sassafras-tree. The cocoon
is placed within the leaf of the tree and secured by a strong web ;
but as the leaf would fall before the moth could escape, a strange
instinct is implanted in the insect, which fastens the stem of the
leaf to the branch by sundry silken threads, so that, although it
may wither and part from the branch, it can not fall to the
ground.

We now pass to the second insect represented in the illustra-
tion. This is the House-builder Moth (Oiketicus Sandersii), an

302 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

insect which is common in many parts of the West Indies, in sev-
eral places being so plentiful that the sight of its long pendent
domiciles is any thing but pleasant to the proprietor of a garden.

Out of five species of insects belonging to this singular genus,
the present has been selected, because, on the whole, its habitation
is more remarkable than that of any other species. Some of
them make their nest in a much stiffer form than is depicted in
the engraving, takirfg pieces of slender twigs and forming them
into hollow cylinders, the twigs being laid parallel to each other,
very much like the rods in the old Roman fasces, which were
borne by the lictors before the consuls. So close indeed is the
resemblance, that by some writers the insects have been called
Lictor Moths.

The reader will observe that in the illustration the nest is
shown as depending from the caterpillar, part of which protrudes
from its mouth and the other part is hidden. This attitude is
given because it is that in which the insect is generally seen.
While young the caterpillar is so strong, and the house is so
light, that it can carry the tail nearly upright.

Scraps of wood mixed with fragments of leaves are the materi-
als which are used, and they are bound together very firmly by
the silken threads with which so many caterpillars are endowed,
whether they belong to the butterflies or moths. There is a tol-
erable degree of elasticity about it, especially at the mouth, which
is slightly expanded so as to assume an irregular funnel-like
shape, and can be drawn together at will by means of the silken
threads attached to its circumference. The caterpillar has thus
two means of guarding itself from attacks. If it is still clinging
to a branch, it can retreat into the house and press the mouth so
firmly against the branch that it is closed effectively, just as a
limpet shelters its soft body by pressing the top of the shell
against the rock. Or, if detached, it can pull the lips together,
and thus shut itself up in its strange house as completely as a box
tortoise in its shell.

Not only does the creature reside in this nest during its larval
condition, but also passes the pupal stage in it, and sometimes the
whole of its life. As soon as it ceases from feeding, and is about
to become a pupa, it retires far into its cell, shuts up the mouth,
throws off its last caterpillar skin, and there remains until the
larva has become a perfect insect. Should the moth be of the
male sex, it creeps out of the domicile and speedily takes to wing,

THE HOUSE-BUILDER MOTH. 303

employing itself in the great object of its life, that of seeking a
mate.

In ordinary cases, to find a mate seems to be no difficult task,
but the House-builder Moth has no ordinary obstacles to over-
come. The female never leaves her cell, for she would be more
helpless as a moth than as a caterpillar. Among the British
moths we have several species in which the females are wingless,
but at all events they do look like moths which have been de-
prived of wings, and are able to move about with tolerable free-
dom. Of these wingless females, the common Vaporer Moth (Or-
gyia antiqua) is a familiar example, its fat, rounded abdomen
and little truncated rudiments of wings being known to all col-
lectors.

But the female House-builder Moth is as utterly helpless a be-
ing as can well be conceived. She has not the least vestige of
wings, and but the smallest indications of legs or antennas. None
but an entomologist would take her for a lepidopterous insect, or
even for an insect at all, for she looks like a fat, down-covered
grub, with very feeble limbs, which can scarcely support the body,
and with antennas that merely consist of a few rounded joints,
entirely unlike the beautiful feathered forms which decorate the
male.

So utterly unlike a moth is this creature, that our most skillful
entomologists are much perplexed as to the position which the
insect ought to occupy. Mr. "Westwood states that they are " the
most imperfect of all lepidopterous insects, and even less favored
' than their larva, which they considerably resemble ;" while Mr.
Newman expresses still stronger opinions, and asserts that the
Oiketici ought to be removed from the lepidoptera altogether, and
placed with the Phryganeidas, or caddis flies, whose dwellings are
wonderfully similar to those of the Oiketici.

The Oriental idea that feminine delicacy is only to be main-
tained by concealing the face, seems to have been borrowed from
the House-builder Moth, which is a perfect model of female excel-
lence, according to Oriental notions, always staying at home, al-
ways hiding her face, and always producing enormous families.
Perhaps the male may be attracted to the female by some pecul-
iar instinct, for the eyes can have little to do with the discovery,
she being so closely shut up in her house, and never leaving it
till the day of her death. Many British insects, such as the well-
known oak-egger moth, have this curious power, and the male has

30-i HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

even been known to enter a pocket in which was a female shut
up in a box.

There is an allied genus, named Psyche, found in England,
the males of which have their wings partly transparent, rather
long and sharply pointed, and the females are without wings at
all.

The larva of this insect also makes a hollow case, and behaves
in a very curious manner before it assumes the pupal condition.
First, it fastens the mouth of the case firmly to the leaves or
branches of the plant on which it has been feeding, and then with-
draws itself into the case. Should it be a male larva, it turns
completely round, so that its head coincides with the opening at
the lower end of the case, through which it makes its escape when
fully developed. The female moth, however, behaves like that
of the House-builder, and, although she also fastens the mouth of
her case to the tree, she never leaves her home, and therefore
does not need to alter her attitude.

The name of Psyche certainly seems to be misapplied in this
instance. In our minds the name of Psyche conveys an idea of
the utmost grace and delicacy — two attributes which sculptors
and painters have in vain endeavored to embody. If, therefore,
we hear that a certain insect is named Psyche, we certainly ex-
pect to see a bright and elegant creature, delicate in form and
pleasing in color. Whereas, when the domicile is opened and
the real Psyche comes to view, nothing can be more disappoint-
ing than the fat, awkward, shapeless grub which has been glori-
fied with such a name.

One of our commonest moths makes a really beautiful pensile
nest, though it is hardly appreciated as it should be. I allude to
the well-known Tiger-Moth (Arciia caja), whose scarlet, white,
and brown robes are so familiar to every one who cares for in-
sects, or who happens to possess or take an interest in a garden.

In two of its stages the insect is very common. In the larval
condition it is popularly known as the Woolly Bear, in conse-
quence of the coating of long bristle-like hairs with which its
body is profusely covered, and which project like the quills of a
porcupine, or the spines of a hedgehog, whenever the creature
rolls itself up, a movement which it always makes when alarmed.
So elastic are the hairs, that the caterpillar may be thrown from

THE TIGER MOTH. 305

a considerable height without suffering any injury, and in all
probability their formidable appearance serves to deter foes from
meddling with it.

Certain enemies, however, care nothing for this hairy defense,
but swallow the caterpillar without hesitation. Chief among
these foes is the cuckoo, which feeds largely on the caterpillar of
the Tiger Moth, and, in consequence, is subject to a very remark-
able phenomenon. The interior of the gizzard had long been
known to be lined with hair, which was thought to be a natural
and ordinary growth peculiar to the species. It was however
discovered — I believe by John Hunter — that these hairs are those
. of the Tiger Moth, the points of which have worked themselves
into the coats of the organ in which they were found. Hunter
employs this fact as an illustration of the power and peculiar
movement of the gizzard.

Doubts have been thrown upon the accuracy of Hunter's state-
ment ; but the question has been set at rest by two facts. In the
first place, cuckoos that have been held in confinement do not
possess the hairy lining; and, in the second place, the microscope
proves that the hairs are those of a caterpillar, allied at least to
the Tiger Moth, if not belonging to the insect itself.

"When the caterpillar has ceased feeding, and is about to be-
come a pupa, it ascends some convenient object, and then spins a
beautiful cocoon, shaped very much like the grass hammocks
made by the natives of tropical America, and bearing a consider-
able resemblance to them in general form, as well as in the loose
and open meshes. So long, indeed, are the meshes made, that the
inclosed insect can be seen through the network, from the time
that the old wrinkled skin is cast off and pushed away in a heap
by the white and shining chrysalis, to the time when the chrys-
alis shell is in its turn shattered, and the perfect moth creeps
slowly into the air, all dull, and sodden, and bewildered, with its
undeveloped wings looking like four mottled split peas rather
than the beautiful members which they soon become, when the
air has passed into their vessels, and their multitudinous folds
have been shaken out.

I hope that none of my readers will kill a Tiger Moth in either
of its stages. It does no harm to the gardener, and has quite
enough foes of its own ; the ichneumon flies piercing it in spite
of its long bristles, and the cuckoo, together with other birds,
reveling in so large and juicy a morsel. It is a special favorite

U

306 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

of mine, this great moth, for I have kept so many hundreds of
them, and have admired the wondrous details of their anatomy
so often, that I am always glad to say a kind word for a creature
which has afforded me so much amusement and instruction.

Among the pensile insects may be reckoned the beautiful Bur-
net Moth (Anthrocera filipendulai), an insect which has already
been mentioned while treating of the pensile hymenoptera.

This insect, which is well known for its splendid colors of deep
velvet green 'and blazing scarlet, is also notable for the shape of
its antennas, which are so swollen toward the tips as to induce
many persons to reckon the insect as a butterfly rather than a

moth.

The shape of the cocoon of the Burnet Moth is not unlike that
of the Tiger Moth, but its material and position are very different.
The cocoon of the tiger moth is slung horizontally, in hammock
fashion, while that of the Burnet is set perpendicularly, and fast-
ened to the upper part of a grass stem, one side being firmly
pressed against it. The substance of the cocoon is quite opaque,
grayish, rather stout, very tough, and having the silken threads,
of which it is chiefly made, so conspicuous, that many persons
take the cocoon to be the work of a spider.

Sometimes in a field, or even in a limited portion of a field,
these cocoons are so numerous that, at a little distance, they look
almost as if they were the seeds of a plant rather than the cocoons
of an insect. In such cases the moths themselves may generally
be found near the cocoons, sometimes being on the ground and
sometimes on the wing. These moths are peculiarly liable to the
attacks of the ichneumon flies, for not only does the Burnet ich-
neumon make them its special prey, but I have seen a large per-
centage of the cocoons bored full of holes, which show that one
of the" parasitic hymenopteras has kid its eggs in the caterpillar ;
that the young have been developed, and made their escape to
continue the work of destruction ; and that the caterpillar which
nurtured them is lying dead within its useless cocoon.

There are others of our finest and yet commonest moths which
make to themselves pensile habitations in which they pass the
long time of helplessness when they are in the pupal state. Any
thing more utterly helpless than the pupa of certain moths can
not well be imagined, their only protection consisting either in

THE DRINKER MOTH — THE OAK-EGGER MOTH. 807

their hiding-place or the sheltering armor in which the creature
is enveloped.

The fur-clad Drinker Moth, for example ( Odonestis potatoria),
spins a cocoon which bears some resemblance in its texture to
that of the Burnet Moth, though it is rather looser in structure
and is of much larger dimensions. The general color of the co-
coon is gray, with a few brownish mottlings here and there, and
in form it is spindle-shaped, being widest in the centre, and dimin-
ishing to a point at either extremity. Conspicuous as this cocoon
appears to be when exhibited in a glass case, it is any thing but
conspicuous in the position wherein it is placed by the insect. I
have bred at least two hundred moths from the caterpillar, and
though the space w*s necessarily limited, many of the cocoons es-
caped observation until after the moth had been developed and
made its escape.

Like the Burnet Moth, the Drinker is very liable to the attacks
of ichneumons. There is now before me a cocoon which was
made in 18-16, and is preserved as one of the first instances of an
entomologist's disappointment. As it now lies on its slab of
white cardboard, it looks as if a charge of dust-shot had been
fired through it, no less than seventeen minute holes being per-
ceptible on one side alone, each hole representing at least one ich-
neumon fly which had made its escape after fulfilling its destruct-
ive mission.

The handsome Oak-egger Moth (Gastropacha quercus) affords
another example of the pensile cocoon. Of these insects also I
have had great numbers; and some specimens of the moth, chrys-
alis, and cocoon are now before me, the cocoon unchanged by the
eighteen years which have elapsed since it was made, but the
moth sadly faded, after the manner of its kind when exposed to
the action of light. This insect, by the way, is one of those which
suffer the most from the fumes of sulphur, a lesson which I long
ago learned from experience. Having been told that the best
method of killing moths was to expose them to the fumes of
burning sulphur, I invented an apparatus which would cause the
insects to be enveloped in dense fumes, while the heat of the
burning sulphur was carried off in another direction.

Of its efficacy as a means of destruction no complaint can bo
made, inasmuch as it destroyed the insect in a very few moments;
but as it likewise discharged the colors, its use was soon given up.

308 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

All the beautiful scarlets lost their tone, and became pale orange,
and in the case of the Oak-egger and similar moths, the warm
dun of the wings changed to dirty yellow. Moreover, the subli-
mated suphur was sure to rest upon the wings, and to destroy
their delicacy.

Camphor, which is so largely and so wrongly used in cabinets,
is liable to the same objection. Its volatility is extreme, a large
lump vanishing in a wonderfully short time when exposed to the
air. The pieces of camphor used in cabinets continually need
renewal, and the question frequently arises, Where has the cam-
phor gone? The answer may be found in the dimmed glass, on
which a deposit has been left, and which is so difficult to be
cleaned, as well as on the inclosed insects, the lustre of whose
bodies is sadly marred by the same substance.

Large as is the caterpillar of the Oak-egger Moth, it is con-
tracted into a comparatively small chrysalis when it assumes the
pupal state, and makes a cocoon which only allows enough space
for the pupa and the cast larval skin. The form of the cocoon is
egg-shaped, whence the name of Oak-egger, and its substance is
rather peculiar, being thin, hard, and rather brittle when quite
dry. Externally it is surrounded by a loose layer of silken
threads, by means of which it is attached to the plant on which
it hangs ; but the cocoon itself is smooth, very much the color of
half-charred paper, and in spite of its brittleness is possessed of
some elasticity.

The manner in which the insect packs itself in so narrow a
cell is most ingenious, and a cocoon may well be sacrificed in or-
der to show the method by which this feat is achieved. If a co-
coon be opened longitudinally, the chrysalis will be seen to fill
the whole of the interior. On examining it more closely, the cast
skin is seen to envelop the whole abdomen of the pupa, being
pushed down in folds so as to fit closely round the pointed abdo-
men, and to occupy as little space as possible.

When the moth escapes from the cocoon, it breaks away quite
a large hole at the end next the head, and slips out of the chrys-
alis shell with great ease, by lifting up a large flap which covers
the legs and the head, and which gives way at the line of de-
marcation which separates it from the wings. In consequence
of this arrangement, the pupal shell and the cast caterpillar skin
remain in exactly the same position, and by means of a little in-
genuity the raised flap can be replaced and fastened so as to give

LITTLE EGGER MOTH — MODE OF SUSPENSION. 309

no indications that the insect has ever broken it. These cocoons
are far more conspicuous than those of the Drinker Moth, and
are attached rather lightly to the stems of various plants.

There is a smaller insect, popularly called the Little Eggek
Moth (Eriogaster lanestris), which spins a cocoon of a similar
structure, except that the walls are of even harder and more uni-
form texture, scarcely larger than a wren's egg, and of a substance
which looks almost as if it were made of the same material as the
egg. When broken, it is found to be even more brittle than that
of the larger insect. Owing, in all probability, to the exceeding
closeness of the structure, which would exclude air from the in-
habitant, it is perforated with one or two very tiny and very cir-
cular holes, which look just as if some one had been trying to kill
the insect by piercing the cocoon with a fine needle or pin.

Even from the outside these perforations are visible, but they
are much more evident when the cocoon is opened. The object
of these holes is, however, conjectural, and it would be a useful
experiment to stop them with wax, in order to see whether the
inclosed insect could be developed when the air was thus ex-
cluded. I believe that there are none of these holes in the co-
coon of the large Oak-egger Moth, and if there be any such per-
forations, they are so minute as to escape notice.

If the reader will refer to page 294, he will see an account of
certain cocoons which are made by hymenopterous insects, and
suspended by a single thread from the branches. In Mr. H. W.
Bates's work on the natural history of the Amazon Eiver, there
is a most interesting account of a pensile cocoon also suspended
by a single thread, but which is the work of a lepidopterous in-
sect. It will be seen that Mr. Bates was able to see the insects
spin the cocoon, and his account exactly tallies with Mr. West-
wood's conjecture as to the method by which the creature man-
ages to produce a hollow cocoon at the end of a single thread.
Mr. Bates's account is as follows :

" The first that may be mentioned is one of the most beautiful
examples of insect workmanship I ever saw. It is a cocoon,
about the size of a sparrow's egg, woven by a caterpillar in broad
meshes, of either buff or rose-colored silk, and is frequently seen
in the narrow alleys of the forest, suspended from the extreme tip
of an outstanding leaf by a strong silken thread, five or six inches
in length. It forms a very conspicuous object, hanging thus in

310 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

mid-air. The glossy threads with which it is knitted are stout,
and the structure is therefore not liable to be torn by the beaks
of insectivorous birds, while its pendulous position makes it
doubly secure against their attacks, the apparatus giving way
when they peck at it. There is a small orifice at each end of the
egg-shaped bag, to admit of the escape of the moth when it
changes from the little chrysalis which sleeps tranquilly in its
airy cage. The moth is of a dull slaty color, and belongs to the
Lithosiidae group of the silkworm family (Bombycidce).

" When the caterpillar begins its work, it lets itself down from
the tip of the leaf which it has chosen by spinning a thread of
silk, the thickness of which it slowly increases as it descends.
Having given the proper length to the cord, it proceeds to weave
its elegant bag, placing itself in the centre, and spinning rings of
silk at regular intervals, connecting them at the same time by
means of the loose thread ; so that the whole, when finished,
forms a loose web, with quadrangular meshes of nearly equal size
throughout. The task occupies about four days : when finished,
the inclosed caterpillar becomes sluggish, its skin shrivels and
cracks, and there then remains a motionless chrysalis of narrow
shape, leaning against the sides of its silken cage."

Some other lepidopterous insects suspend themselves by single
threads, but most of them make their habitations of leaves, so
that, when suspended, they do not attract much attention, look-
ing like chance leaves that have fallen from the branches and
caught in a stray piece of spider's web. Sometimes these nests
are made from single leaves, the edges of which are drawn to-
gether by the silken threads spun by the caterpillar that takes
refuge within, and sometimes they are made from several leaves,
which are fastened to each other by similar threads. Some of
these pensile nests are inhabited by a number of caterpillars,
which live together in perfect harmony. Some nests are not un-
common in tropical countries, and one or two of them will be
described in the chapter on Social Insects. One traveler de-
scribes some of these nests by comparing them to the white paper
bags in which grapes are tied, when ripe, in order to preserve
them from wasps and other marauders.

He also mentions that the interior contained a quantity of
green leaves, which afforded food to the inhabitants, but does not
tell us whether the leaves were actually growing on the tree and

BROWN-TAIL, SMALL ERMINE, AND SPURGE MOTHS. 311

surrounded by the nest, or whether they had been cut from the
boughs outside, and carried into the interior by the inhabitants.
The latter supposition is implied, but it can hardly be a correct
one, as it is directly contrary to our present knowledge of the
habits of caterpillars. I believe that no lepidopterous larva is
known to fetch food from a distance, and to store it for future
consumption. As far as we know at present, the caterpillar has
not the least thought for the morrow, but simply devours the
leaves where they grow.

There are many species, such as the larva of the common
Brown-tail Moth (Porthesia auriflua), or of the Small Ermine
Moth ( Yponomeuta padella), which travel by day to considerable
distances in their search after food, and return at night to their
common habitation, guided by the threads which they continual-
ly spin as they crawl along. But no caterpillar is known which
is gifted with the instinct of cutting off leaves and bringing them
home for food, and we may therefore infer that the leaves in ques-
tion were growing on the branches, and that the nests had been
purposely spun round them.

There are, however, one or two species of British insects, be-
longing to the lepidoptera, which do cut off leaves and use them
for the construction of the cocoon, though they do not employ
them for food. These insects are moths, belonging to the genus
Acronycta, and popularly called Spurge Moths, on account of
the plant on which they reside. One of these species makes a re-
ally curious pensile cocoon from the leaves of the cypress spurge
(Euphorbia cyjiarissias), rather a scarce perennial plant about a
foot in height, growing about woods and the borders of the fields.
The leaves of the stem are lance-shaped, and those of the branch-
es almost linear, like grass blades, and it is of these latter that the
insect makes its habitation.

About October, the caterpillar begins to make its house, and
does so in a very curious manner. Detaching a leaf from a
branch, it fastens one end to the stem, and then bends the leaf so
as to form a loop, and fastens the other end in a similar manner.
A number of the leaves are placed nearly parallel to each other,
so that when they are firmly woven together they form a bag-like
cocoon, fixed to the stem of the plant by one side, and being up-
right like that of the burnet moth. Its texture is, however, very
unlike that of the burnet, being loose, almost wholly composed of
vegetable matter, and comparatively flimsy.

312 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

It has well been remarked that the strength, or, at all events,
the weather-resisting power of a cocoon, depends upon the length
of time which is occupied by the insect in undergoing its trans-
formation, those creatures which only spend a few weeks in the
pupal state being content with a mere web or hammock of silk,
while those which pass the winter in the pupal condition make
habitations which are comparatively substantial.

This rule, however, is not without its exceptions, as we find the
pupae of several butterflies, the common cabbage butterfly, for ex-
ample, merely hung against walls, etc., without any protection
around them. Instinct leads them to choose such spots as can
best afford them shelter, as every one knows who has a tool-house
or a summer-house in the garden, but there are many cases in
which no such protection can be found, and the insects are forced
to content themselves with the southern side of a tree-trunk, or
the least windy side of a paling.

The caterpillar of. the Spurge Moth is rather prettily marked,
being striped longitudinally with white, red, and brown, relieved
with black, and furnished with some scanty tufts of hair on each
segment.

One species of insect suspends the cocoon by a thread at each
end, so that the resemblance to a hammock is exact. This is the
Argyromiges autumnella, one of the minute moths called Micro-
Lepidoptera. The larva of this species is naked. It is a native
of England.

We now pass to the enormous variety of caterpillars which are
popularly called Leaf-rollers, because they make their homes in
leaves which they curl up in various methods.

Some use a single leaf, and others employ two or more in the
construction of their nests. Even the single-leaf insects display
a wonderful variety in their modes of performing an apparently
simple task. Some bend the leaf longitudinally, and merely fast-
en the two edges together, while others bend it transversely, fix-
ing the point to the middle nervure. Some roll it longitudinal-
ly, so as to make a hollow cylinder corresponding with the entire
length of the leaf, while others roll it transversely, so that the cyl-
inder is only as long as the leaf is wide, and a few species cut a
slit in the leaf and roll up only a small portion of it.

The leaf-roller caterpillars belong to numerous species, and are
plentiful enough — too plentiful, indeed, to please the gardener,

THE OAK MOTH. 313

who finds the leaves of his favorite trees curled up and perma-
nently disfigured by these little marauders. All of them are of
small size, and some so minute that the mere fact of their ability
to roll up a leaf is something wonderful.

They flourish best during mild and rather rainy seasons, be-
cause the leaves are charged with moisture, and are so soft that
they can easily be rolled, and, moreover, contain a plentiful sup-
ply of food. During the present year the Leaf-rollers have suffer-
ed greatly, the continual drought having dried up the leaves, ren-
dering them both stiff and innutritious. The lilacs in my garden,
which are usually covered with these cylindrical nests of Leaf-
roller caterpillars, are comparatively free from them, and the few
which exist are very poor specimens, several having been aban-
doned in a half-made state. In the lilacs of a friend, however,
where the soil is about one hundred and twenty feet lower than
my own garden, there are plenty of Leaf-roller nests, the ground
being much moister than in more elevated situations, and being,
moreover, on a different soil.

The mechanics of the Leaf-roller nest are very curious, and
will be presently mentioned.

Oxe of the most common among the Leaf-rollers is the pretty
Oak Moth (Tortrix viridana), which must not be confounded
with the oak-egger moth already mentioned. It is a little crea-
ture with four rather wide delicate wings, the upper pair of a soft
leaf-green, and the under pair of a grayish hue. In some seasons,
the moths, or rather their larva?, are so plentiful that great dam-
age is done to the oak forests, tree after tree being so covered
with them that scarcely a leaf escapes destruction, and the growth
of the tree is consequently checked.

Like all Leaf-rollers, they feed on the green substance, or pa-
renchyma of the leaf, and, being ensconced within theif tubular
home, can eat without fear of molestation. They are not very
much afraid even of the small birds, for as soon as a bill is push-
ed into one end of the leafy cylinder, the caterpillar hastily " bun-
dles" out of the other — there is no other word which so fully ex-
presses the peculiar action of the larva — and lowers itself toward
the ground by a silken thread which proceeds from its mouth.
In fact, it acts like a spider in similar circumstances.

Where these insects are plentiful, an absurd effect can be pro-
duced by tapping the branches of oak trees with a stick. As the

314 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

stroke reverberates through the branch, the leaves, which appear
to the casual passenger to be in their ordinary condition, give
forth their inhabitants, and hundreds of tiny caterpillars descend
in hot haste, each lowering itself by a thread and dropping in lit-
tle jerks of an inch or two each. Some of them are more timid
than the others, and descend nearly to the ground; but the gen-
eral mass of them remains at about the same height. Another
tap will cause them all to drop a foot or two lower, the stroke be-
ing felt even at the end of the suspending thread ; and by admin-
istering a succession of such taps they will all be induced to come
to the ground. There they will wait a considerable time; but
presently one of them will begin to reascend, working its way up-
ward along the slender and scarcely visible line as easily as if it
were crawling upon level ground. The least alarm will cause
them to drop again, for they are then very timid ; but, if allowed
to remain in peace, they speedily reach their cells, and enter them
with a haste that very much resembles the quick jerk with which
a soldier-crab enters the shell from which he has been ejected.

If a tolerably smart breeze be blowing, the sight is still more
curious, for the caterpillars are swung about through very large
arcs, and, if the wind be steady, are all blown in one direction, so
that their line forms quite a large angle with the level of the leaf
to which the upper end is attached. The caterpillars, however,
seem to be quite indifferent in the matter, and ascend steadily,
whether the line be simply perpendicular, or whether it be vio-
lently blown about by the wind.

At the proper season of year, the moths are as plentiful as the
larvse, and a shake with the hand will cause a whole cloud of the
green creatures to issue forth, producing a strangely confused ef-
fect to the eye as they flutter about with an uncertain and devi-
ous flight. A sweep with an ordinary entomological net will cap-
ture plenty of them, but in a few minutes they all disappear,
some of them returning to the branches whence they had come,
and others dropping to the ground. During the summer of 1864
they were very plentiful in Darenth Wood, the heavy growth of
oaks giving them every encouragement.

The insect which commits such devastation on the lilacs is gen-
erally the little chocolate-colored moth called the Lilac Moth
(Lazotcenia ribeana), though there are other allied species which
infest the same plant. Any one may see the damaged leaves for

THE LILAC MOTH. 315

himself, and therefore I shall not particularly describe them, but
pass at once to the mechanical powers which are involved in the
task of curling the elastic leaf into cylindrical form.

Compare the size of the lilac leaf and of the newly-hatched cat-
erpillar, the latter being about as large as the capital letter I.
That so minute a creature should roll up the leaf by main strength
is of course an impossibility, and the method by which that con-
summation is attained is so remarkable an instance of practical
mechanics that I must describe the operation at length.

If the reader will procure one of the rolled leaves, he will see
that the cylindrical portion is retained in its place by a row of
silken threads, which are individually weak, but collectively
strong, holding the elastic leaf as firmly as Gulliver was held by
the multitudinous cords with which he was fastened to the
ground. That they should hold the cylinder in shape is to be
expected, but the manner in which the cylinder is made is not so
clear. The following is the process :

First, the caterpillar attaches a number of threads to the point
and upper edges of the leaf, and fastens the other ends to the
middle of the leaf itself. It now proceeds to perform an opera-
tion which is precisely similar to the nautical method of " bows-
ing" up a rope. In order to " bowse" a rope taut, two men are
employed, one of them pulling the nearly tightened rope at right
angles so as to bend it, while the other continually belays it to
the cleats. Now the caterpillar performs precisely this operation,
but without requiring the aid of an assistant, the "bowsing" be-
ing performed by its feet, and the belaying by its spinneret. By
thus hauling at and tightening each line in succession, the cater-
pillar bends the leaf over slightly, and then attaches a fresh series
of threads to keep it in its place. By repeating this process, and
by continually adding fresh lines, the creature fairly bends the
leaf into a hollow cylinder, and then crawls inside to enjoy its
well-earned home.

I may here point out that the whole process of rolling the leaf
affords an admirable example of mechanics as exhibited in na-
ture, and that it is achieved by the well-known principle of ex-
changing space and time for power. Although the caterpillar
can not by any exertion of strength roll up the leaf in one min-
ute, it is enabled to do so by dividing the work into a multitude
of parts, and taking much longer time about it, just as a man who
can not lift a single weight of a thousand pounds may do so by

316 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

dividing it into ten parts, and, in consequence, by taking up a
considerable time in lifting the separate parts.

Again, in the silken bands which hold the rolled and elastic
leaf in its place, we have an excellent example of accumulated
power ; neither of the threads being alone capable of enduring
the tension, but their united strength being more than sufficient
for the task.

As soon as the caterpillar has entered its new home, it begins
to feed, eating the green substance of the leaf, and generally leav-
ing the nervures untouched. Sometimes the caterpillar lives for
so short a time that a single leaf is sufficient for its subsistence;
but there are some species which are obliged to repeat the task
more than once.

There are other insects which also make their habitations in
leaves ; but, instead of rolling up the leaf and living inside the
cylinder, they make their way between the two membranes, and
there remain until they have undergone their transformation.

The reader must often have seen the leaves of garden plants
and trees, especially those of the rose, traversed by pale winding
marks, that look something like the rivers upon a map, and hav-
ing mostly a narrow dark line running exactly along the middle.
These curious marks are the tracks which are made by the various
leaf-mining insects, while eating their way through the leaf in
which they pass their larval state. In most cases, when the in-
sect has completed its term of larval existence, one end of the
track is found to be greatly widened, and to contain either the
pupa itself or its empty case.

The track differs considerably in shape, according to the insect
which makes it. Sometimes it winds about in the middle of the
leaf, crossing itself more than once in its progress. Sometimes it
proceeds in a nearly straight line across the leaf, and very fre-
quently, especially in deeply-cut leaves, it follows the outline,
keeping to the edge, and not trenching at all on the central por-
tions.

Insects belonging to three orders are known to make these cu-
rious habitations, namely, the Lepidoptera, the Coleoptera, and the
Diptera. Of these, the Lepidoptera are by far the most numer-
ous, and belong to that group which is called, on account of their
very minute dimensions, the Micro-Lepidoptera. These are all
little moths, so small that on the wing they can scarcely be rec-

THE DAGGER MOTH — THE CELERY FLY. 317

ognized as moths, and look more like little flies. They are all
very beautiful, and many of the species are truly magnificent
when seen through a microscope, their plumage glittering as if
made of burnished gold and silver. Indeed, one genus in which
these leaf-miners are comprised is named Argyromiges, a title
based on a Greek word signifying silver.

The species which is most common in the leaves of the rose-
tree is the Eed-headed Pigmy (Microsetia rujicapitelld). The
larva of this insect seems not to possess even the rudiments of
legs, and forces itself through the leaves by means of certain pro-
jections of the skin, which are sharp and angular, and serve as
instruments of progression, like the abdominal scales of the ser-
pent and the bristles of the earth-worm. A species which is
found in the leaf of the oak is known to collectors by the name
of Cramer's Pigmy {Argyromiges Cramerella). The caterpillars
of the Dagger Moth (Diurnea) also live between the membranes
of leaves, and are remarkable for the last pair of feet, which are
shaped like a couple of very minute battledores. These feet are
spread out greatly in the act of walking, and the creature is far-
ther aided in its progress by the hair-covered warts upon the body.

As for the beetle leaf-miners, they are to be found among the
weevils ; and it is a remarkable fact that one of these insects be-
longs to the genus Cionus, which has already been mentioned on
page 297 as the weaver of certain beautiful pensile cocoons.

Of the Diptera, the Celery Fly (Tephritis onopordinis) is a
good example. The larva of this really pretty fly, with its green
eyes and black and white spotted wings, feeds not only on the
celery, but on the parsnip, and does great harm to both plants.
Gardeners often employ little boys to examine the celery plants,
and whenever they find a "blister," as they technically call it, to
crush the inclosed maggot between the fingers. The color of
this larva is pale green, so that it is not readily seen even when
the blister is opened. If allowed to have its own way, the larva
remains in the bag until it has finished its eating, and then de-
scends into the ground, where it changes into the pupal state, and
remains until the following spring. In such a case the leaves
are often much damaged, the blisters being yellowish-white, and
the leaf itself drooping and half withered.

Our last examples of pensile nests are taken from the Arach-
nidae, being formed by several species of spiders.

318 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

It may perhaps be necessary to remark that the threads with
which the spiders make their webs are in some respects similar to
those which are produced by various caterpillars, and in other
respects are exceedingly dissimilar. In both cases the threads
are formed from a semi-liquid secretion, which is produced in the
internal organs, is forced through minute apertures at the will of
the animal, and hardens into a thread as soon as it comes in con-
tact with the air.

Here, however, the resemblance ceases. The threads of the
caterpillar are double, or rather are composed of two lines fused
together throughout their length, the two half lines proceeding
from a large silk-secreting tube at either side of the body, and
uniting at the mouth, where they become fused together by pass-
ing through a short tube common to both. The threads of the
spider are much more complex, each being formed of a vast
number of smaller lines, which are produced from a peculiar or-
gan termed the " spinneret," which is placed at the extremity of
the body. In consequence of its position, the spider always
hangs with its head downward while lowering itself by means of
its line.

The spinnerets are externally like little rounded projections,
arranged in pairs, and four, six, or eight in number. They are
variable in shape, mostly being rounded, but sometimes being so
long that they have been mistaken for feelers. The spinnerets
are covered with a multitude of very minute hair-like append-
ages, which are, in fact, the tubes through which the liquid secre-
tion is forced into the air. All the threads which proceed from
these tubes are joined into a single line ; and it wiil be at once
seen that very great strength is obtained by making the line com-
pound instead of single.

The best known of these creatures is the common Garden
Spider (Epeira diadema), sometimes called the Geometric Spi-
der, whose beautifully radiated net is so familiar that its general
shape requires no description. Suffice it to say that the spider
exhibits wonderful skill in placing its web, making a frame-work
of very strong threads or ropes, and then spinning the net itself
between them. Yery great elasticity is thus obtained, for the
threads are exceedingly elastic; so that, although stretched toler-
ably tightly, they will yield to pressure, and immediately recover
themselves. This property is very needful, in order to enable
them to resist the wind, to which they are so fully exposed.

THE GARDEN SPIDER. 319

These spiders have, moreover, a most singular plan of strength-
ening their web when the wind is more than ordinarily violent.
If they find that the wind stretches their nets to a dangerous ex-
tent, they hang pieces of wood, or stone, or other substances to
the web, so as to obtain the needful steadiness. I have seen a
piece of wood which had been thus used by a Garden Spider, and
which was some two inches in length, and thicker than an ordi-
nary drawing-pencil. The spider hauled it to a height of nearly
five feet ; and when by some accident the suspending thread was
broken, the little creature immediately lowered itself to the
ground, attached a fresh thread, ascended again to the web, and
hauled the piece of wood after it.

It found this balance-weight at some distance from the web,
and certainly must have dragged it for a distance of five feet
along the ground before reaching the spot below the web. There
were eight or ten similar webs in the same veranda, but only in
the single instance was the net steadied by a weight.

The structure of the beautiful web is very remarkable.

It is nearly circular, and is composed of a number of straight
lines, radiating from a common centre, and having a spiral line
wound regularly upon them. Now the structure of the radiating
and the spiral lines is quite distinct, as may be seen by applying
a microscope of moderate power. The radiating lines are smooth
and not very elastic, whereas the spiral line is thickly studded
with minute knobs, and is elastic to a wonderful degree, remind-
ing the observer of a thread of India-rubber. So elastic, indeed,
is this line, that many observers have thought that the spider has
the power of retracting them within the spinnerets, inasmuch as
she often will draw a thread out to a considerable length, and
then, when she approaches the point to which it will be attached,
it seems to re-enter the spinneret until it is shortened to the re-
quired length. This, however, is only an optical delusion, and
caused by the great elasticity of the thread, which can accommo-
date itself to the space which it is required to cross.

It is to the little projections that the efficacy of the net is due,
for they are composed of a thick, adhesive, and viscid substance,
and serve to arrest the wings and legs of the insects that happen
to touch the net. In his splendid work on the British Spiders,
Mr. Blackwell has the following remarks upon the structure of
the threads: "As the radii are unadhesive, and possess only a
moderate share of elasticity, they must consist of a different mate-

320 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

rial from that of the viscid spiral line, which is elastic in an ex-
traordinary degree. Now the viscidity of this line may be shown
to depend entirely upon the globules with which it is studded;
for if they be removed by careful application of the finger, a fine
glossy filament remains, which is highly elastic, but perfectly un-
adhesive. As the globules, therefore, and the line on which they
are disposed, differ so essentially from each other and from the
radii, it is reasonable to infer that the physical constitution of
these several portions of the net must be dissimilar.

"An estimate of the number of viscid globules distributed on
the elastic spiral line in a net of Epeira apoclisa of a medium size
will convey some idea of the elaborate operations performed by
the Epeira in the construction of their snares. The mean dis-
tance between two adjacent radii in a net of this species is about
seven tenths of an inch ; if, therefore, the number seven be multi-
plied by twenty, the mean number of viscid globules which occur
on one tenth of an inch of the elastic spiral line at the ordinary
degree of tension, the product will be 140, the mean number of
globules deposited on seven tenths of an inch of the elastic spiral
line. This product multiplied by twenty-four, the mean number
of circumvolutions described by the elastic spiral line, gives 3360,
the mean number of globules contained between two radii ; which,
multiplied by twenty-six, the mean number of radii, produces
87,360, the total number of viscid globules in a finished net of av-
erage dimensions.

"A large net, fourteen or sixteen inches in diameter, will be
found by a similar calculation to contain upward of 120,000 vis-
cid globules, and yet Epeira apoclisa will complete its snare in
about forty minutes if it meet with no interruption."

These calculations will serve to show the elaborate nature of
the webs which we see constantly in our gardens, as well as their
value to the architect. The secretion of the liquid from which
the lines proceed is a work of time, so that if a spider is forced to
spin several nets in rapid succession, it loses all its silk and can
not make a web. To wait until a fresh supply should be secreted
would be a terrible privation, and, moreover, the want of food
would stop the secretion, so that the spider has no other resource
than to make war on a weaker spider, drive him out of his net,
and usurp possession thereof. Such being the case, the spiders
are all very chary of using their silk, and never trouble them-
selves to make webs when a storm is impending. They are

SENSE OF TOUCH — AGELENA BRUNNEA. 321

therefore very excellent barometers, and if the spiders all take to
mending their nets or spinning new webs, fine weather is always
at hand.

One very remarkable point in the construction of these webs,
so exactly true in all their proportions, is that they are executed
entirely by the sense of touch. The eyes are situated on the front
of the body and on the upper surface, whereas the spinnerets are
placed at the very extremity of the body and on the under sur-
face, the threads being always guided by one of the hind legs, as
may be seen by watching a garden spider in the act of building
or repairing her web. In order that the fact should be placed be-
yond a doubt, spiders have been confined in total darkness, and
yet have spun webs which were as true and as perfect as those
which are made in daylight.

A peculiarly beautiful pensile cocoon is constructed by a
common British spider, scientifically termed Agelena brunnea, but
which has no popular name. It is really remarkable that, con-
sidering the great number of species which inhabit England, so
very few should have been sufficiently distinguished to receive
popular names. Owing, in all probability, to the foolish dislike
toward spiders entertained by most persons, a dislike which has
been instilled into their minds at a very early age, these wonder-
ful and interesting creatures are seldom watched, and there are
very few persons who really know one spider from another, or
who have any idea of their exceeding usefulness when in the
places which they were intended to inhabit. Spiders are certain-
ly out of their place in a room, and the housemaid is perfectly
justified in exterminating them, but in the garden or the field
they should never be injured, but rather encouraged as much as
possible.

The species whose beautiful nest will now be described is gen-
erally to be found upon commons, especially where gorse is abun-
dant, as it generally hangs its nest to the prickly leaves of that
shrub. The cocoon is shaped rather like a wine-glass, and is al-
ways hung with the mouth downward, being fastened by the stalk
to a leaf or twig of the gorse. It is very small, only measuring a
quarter of an inch in diameter, and, when it is first made, is of the
purest white, so as to be plainly visible among the leaves.

This purity, however, it "retains but a very short time ; for aft-
er the spider has deposited her eggs, which are quite spherical,

X

322 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

and about forty or fifty in number, she closes the mouth of the
cocoon and proceeds to daub it all over with mud. The moist-
ened earth clings tightly to the silken cocoon, and disguises it so
effectually that no one who had not seen it before that operation
could conceive how beautiful it had once been. The muddy
cover certainly makes the cocoon less visible, and may probably
have another effect, that of protecting the inclosed eggs and young
from the attacks of insects that feed upon spiders. Several oth-
er species have the habit of daubing their beautiful cocoons with
mud.

This species is plentiful in Bostal Common and Bexley Heath
in Kent, the profuse growth of gorse being very suitable to its
mode of life, and I have several specimens of their nests taken
from Shooter's Hill. June is the best month for them, as they
may be found both before and after the mud has been applied.

An allied species, Agelena labyrinthica, is equally plentiful in
similar localities, where its curious webs may be seen stretched in
horizontal sheets over the gorse, and having attached to each web
a cylindrical tube, at the end of which sits the spider itself.
Heath and common grass are also frequented by this spider.

Besides the net or web in which it lives, and by means of
which it catches prey, it makes a beautiful cocoon in which the
eggs are placed. Externally the cocoon looks like a simple silk-
en bag, perfectly white in color, and, except in size, somewhat re-
sembling that of the preceding species. It is only when quite
freshly made that the white hue of the cocoon is visible ; for, aft-
er its completion, it is covered with scraps of dry leaves, bark,
earth, and other substances. If, however, this cocoon be opened,
it is found to contain at least another cocoon within, and often
comprises two, of a saucer-like shape, and made also of white silk.
These inner cocoons are nearly half an inch in diameter, and con-
tain a very variable quantity of pale yellow spherical eggs, some-
times fifty in number, but often exceeding a hundred. The inner
cocoons are firmly tied by strong lines to the interior of the large
sac in which they are inclosed.

THE PENCILED BETTONG. 323

CHAPTER XV. •

BUILDERS.

Building Mammalia. — Definition of the Title. — Inferiority of the Mammalia as
Architects. — The Brush-tailed Bettong. — Its Structure and Color. — The Nest
of the Bettong, and its Adaptation to the Locality. — Singular Method of convey-
ing Materials. — Its nocturnal Habits. — The Rabbit-eared Bandicoot and its
Habitat. — The generic Title. — Curious Form of the Ears and Feet. — Difficulty in
discovering its Nest. — The Musquash, or Ondatra. — Its general Habits. — Its
burrowing Powers, and Extent of its Tunnels. — The Musquash as a Builder. —
Form and Size of its House. — Mode of Killing the Animal by Spear, Gun, and
Trap. — Its Flesh and Fur.

"We now take our leave of the Pensiles, and pass to those ani-
mals which build, rather than burrow or weave. The materials
used by the Builders are variable. In the most perfect examples,
earth is the material that is employed, but in many instances
other substances, such as wood, earth, and sticks, are used by the
architect.

As a general rule, the mammalia are by no means notable for
their skill in the construction of their homes. In making bur-
rows they far excel all the other vertebrates both in the length
of the tunnels and in the elaborate arrangements of the subterra-
nean domicile. The mole, for example, is pre-eminent as a bur-
rower and as a subterranean architect, and there are many of the
rodents which drive a whole labyrinth of tunnels through the soil.
But they are very indifferent builders, and, with a few exceptions,
are unable to raise an edifice of any kind, or to weave a nest that
deserves the name.

Our list of Building Mammalia will therefore be a short one,
comprising only three species, two inhabiting Australia and one
a native of America.

The first example of the Building Mammalia is the Penciled
Bettong (Bettonrjia pencillala), sometimes called the Brush-tailed
Bettong, and often known by the name of Jerboa Kangaroo.
The word Bettong is a native name for a group of small kanga-
roos that are easily recognized by the shape of their heads, which

824 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

are peculiarly short, thick, and round, and very unlike the long,
deer-like head of the larger kangaroos.

The Brush-tailed Bettong is about as large as a hare, and its
tail is not quite a foot in length, though it appears longer in con-
sequence of a brush-like tuft of long hair which decorates the end.
It is a pretty creature, elegant in shape, extremely active, and the
white pencilings on the brown back, the gray-white belly, and the
jetty tuft on the tail are in beautiful contrast to each other.

The home of this animal is a kind of compromise between a
burrow and a house, being partly sunk below the surface of the
ground and partly built above it. The localities wherein the
Bettong is found are large grassy hills whereon there is hardly
any cover, and where the presence of a nest large enough to con-
tain the animal, and yet small enough to escape observation, ap-
pears to be almost impossible. The Bettong, however, sets about
its task by examining the ground until it finds a moderately deep
depression, if possible near a high tuft of grass.

Using this depression as the foundation of the nest, it builds
a roof over it with leaves, grass, and similar materials, not high
enough to overtop the neighboring herbage, and being very sim-
ilar to it in external appearance. Grass of a suitable length can
not always be obtained close to the nest, and the Bettong is there-
fore obliged to convey it from a distance. The task it performs
in a manner so curious, that, were it not related by so accurate
and trustworthy an observer as Mr. Gould, it could hardly be
credited. After the animal has procured a moderately large
bunch of grass, it rolls its tail round it so as to form it into a
sheaf, and then jumps away to its nest, carrying the bunch of
grass in its tail. In Mr. Gould's work on the Macropidee of Aus-
tralia, there is an illustration which represents the Bettong leaping
over the ground with its grass sheaf behind it. After the nest
has been completed, the mother Bettong is always careful to close
the entrance whenever she leaves her home, and pulls a loose tuft
of grass over the aperture.

To an ordinary European eye, the homes of the Bettong are
quite undistinguishable from the surrounding grass. The natives,
however, seldom pass a nest without seeing it, and destroying the
inmate. Being a nocturnal animal, the Bettong is sure to be at
home and asleep during the daytime, so that when a native passes
a nest he always dashes his tomahawk into its midst, thus killing
or stunning the sleeping inmates.

THE RABBIT-EARED BANDICOOT — THE MUSK RAT.

o2o

The second Building Mammal on our list is also a native of
Australia, and is known by the name of Babbit-eared Bandi-
coot (Perameles [or Chceropus] castanotis). Of the two generic
names the latter is certainly preferable, as it alludes to the remark-
able structure of the limbs. The fore feet are small and delicate,
and only two toes are developed. Instead of being furnished with
long claws at their extremity, the feet are terminated by two short
and pointed claws of equal length, and looking exactly like the
hoofs of a pig. It is in allusion to this peculiarity that the generic
name "Chceropus," or swine-footed, has been given to the animal.

It is a rather odd-looking little creature, about as large as an
ordinary rabbit, and having ears so long and large that the re-
semblance to the rabbit is really striking. Owing to the great
length of the hind legs, the gait of the animal is rather peculiar,
being a kind of mixture between walking and hopping, and when
the creature is alarmed, it jumps away with wonderful speed.
Specimens of this Bandicoot have lived in England.

The nest which it makes is not unlike that of the Bettong,
which has been already described. The animal inhabits the
same kind of locality, namely, grass-covered hills and "scrubs,"
and builds its nest of grass and leaves, sheltering it, if possible,
beneath a grass tuft or some thick bush. The Babbit-eared
Bandicoot inhabits New South Wales, and the nests are chiefly
to be found near the banks of the Murray Biver. They are,
however, so cleverly hidden, and the materials of which they are
built are so similar to surrounding objects, that an inexperienced
person might almost walk over them without discovering their
presence.

\Ye now come to our last example of the Building Mammalia,
namely, the Musquashj or Ondatra of North America {Fiber
Ztbethicus), sometimes called the Musk Bat.

This animal might have been placed among the burrowers, for
it is quite as good an excavator as many which have been de-
scribed under that title, but as it builds as well as burrows, it has
been reserved for its present position in the work.

Essentially a bank-haunting animal, it is never to be seen at
any great distance from water, and, like the beaver, to which it is
closely allied, it is usually to be found either in the river itself or
on its edge, where its brown wet fur harmonizes so well with the
brown wet mud that the creature can scarcely be distinguished

326 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

from the surrounding soil. It is seen to the best advantage in
the water, where it swims and dives with consummate ease, aided
greatly by the webs which connect the hinder toes.

The Musquash drives a large series of tunnels into the bank,
excavated in various directions, and having several entrances, all
of which open under the surface of the water. The tunnels are
of considerable length, some being as much as fifty or sixty feet
in length, and they all slope slightly upward, uniting in a single
chamber, in which is the couch of the inhabitants. If the animal
happens to live upon a marshy and uniformly wet soil, it becomes
a builder, and erects houses so large that they look like small
haycocks. Sometimes these houses are from three to four feet in
height.

The natives take advantage of the habits of the animal, and
kill it while it lies on its couch, much after the same manner as is
used by the natives of Australia when they pass the house of the
Bettong. Taking in his hand a large four-barbed spear, shaped
something like the well-known " grains" with which sailors kill
dolphins and porpoises, the native steals up to the house, and,
driving his formidable weapon through the walls, is sure to trans-
fix the inhabitants. Holding the spear firmly with one hand,
with the other he takes his tomahawk from his belt, dashes the
house to pieces, and secures the unfortunate animals.

As the fur of the Musquash is valuable, and the flesh is con-
sidered as good as that of the duck, it is greatly persecuted by
hunters, who generally employ one of four methods, two of which
require a knowledge of the home. One plan has already been
described, and another consists in finding out the different en-
trances, blocking them up, and then intercepting the animals as
they try to escape. Sometimes the gun is used, but not very fre-
quently, as the Musquash is so wary that it dives at the least
alarm, darts into one of its holes, and will not show itself again
until assured of safety. The trap, however, is the ordinary means
of destruction. This is made of iron, and is set in such a manner
that as soon as the animal is caught its struggles cause the trap
to fall into the water, dragging after it the Musquash, which is
soon drowned.

In its subterranean home the Musquash lays up large stores
of provisions, and in the habitation have been found turnips,
parsnips, carrots, and even maize. All the roots had been dug
out of the soil, and the maize had been bitten off close to the

THE OVEN BIRD. 327

ground. The Musquash is not a large animal, the length of its
head and body being only fourteen inches.

I have in my collection a curious bag or pouch made from the
skin of the Musquash by a very simple process. The animal has
been laid on its back, and the skin divided transversely across the
lower part of the abdomen. The body has then been gradually
turned out of the skin, all the limbs removed except the paws,
and the skull also taken away. The inside of the skin is then
dried, and prepared in some ingenious manner so that it serves
as a convenient pouch, the slit across the abdomen forming the
entrance, the tail acting as a handle for suspension, and the feet
dangling as ornaments. For this curious specimen I am indebted
to Lieutenant Pusey, R.N".

CHAPTER XVI.

BUILDING BIRDS.

The Oven Bird and its place in Ornithology. — Its general Habits. — Nest of the
Oven Bird. — Curious Materials and historical Parallel. — The Specimens in the
British Museum. — The internal Architecture of the Nest. — Division into Cham-
bers.— The Pied Grallina. — The Specimens at the Zoological Gardens. — Mate-
rials and Form of the Nest. — Boldness of the Bird. — The Song Thrush and its
Nest. — The Blackbird and its clay -lined Nests. — Supposed Reasons for the Lin-
ing.— The Fairy Martin. — Locality, Shape, and Materials of the Nest. — Social
Habits of the Bird. — How the Nest is built. — The Rufous-necked Swallow. —
Locality and abundance of its Nests. — Curious Habit of the Bird. — Audubon's
Account. — The Rcfods-bellied Swallow. — Supplementary Nest. — How the
Bird builds. — Popular Superstition and its Uses. — The House Martin. — Mate-
rial of its Nest. — Favorite Localities. — Ingenuity of the Martin. — Adaptation to
Circumstances. — Parasitic Intruders, their Number, Dimensions, and Tenacity of
Life. — The Swallow. — Distinction between its Nest and that of the Martin. —
Why called the Chimney Swallow. — Tallegalla, or Brush Turkey. — The Il-
lustration explained. — Various Names of the Bird. — Its singular and enormous
Nest. — How the Eggs are laid and hatched. — Egress of the Young. — Remarkable
Instinct. — Australian Jungle Fowl. — Shape, Size, and Position of its Nests. —
How the Eggs are discovered. — Leipoa, or Native Pheasant. — Its Mound-nest,
and general Habits.

Among the building birds, there is one species which is pre-
eminently superior. Not only is there no equal, but there is no
second. This is the Oven Bird {Furnarius fuliginosus), which de-
rives its popular name from the shape and material of its nest.

The Oven Bird belongs to the family of the Certhidae, and is
therefore allied to the well-known Creeper of our own country.

328

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

It is about as large as a lark, and is a bold-looking bird, rather
slenderly built, and standing very upright. Its color is warm
brown. It is very active, running and walking very fast, and is
much on the wing, though its flights are not of long duration,
consisting chiefly of short Sittings from bush to bush in search
of insects. It generally haunts the banks of South American
rivers, and is a fearless little bird, not being alarmed even at the
presence of man. The male has a hard, shrill note, and the fe-
male has a cry of somewhat similar sound, but much weaker.

The chief interest of this bird centres in its nest, which is a
truly remarkable example of bird architecture. The material of
which it is made is principally mud or clay obtained from the
river banks, but it is strengthened and stiffened by the admixture
of grass, vegetable fibres, and stems of various plants. The heat

Oven Bird.

of the sun is sufficient to harden it, and when it has been thor-
oughly dried, it is so strong that it seems more like the handi-
work of some novice at pottery than a veritable nest constructed

THE PIED GRALLINA. 329

by a bird, the fierce heat of the tropical sun baking the clay near-
ly as hard as brick.

The ordinary shape of the nest may be seen by reference to
the illustration, which was drawn from a remarkably fine speci-
men in the British Museum. It is domed, rounded, and has the
entrance in the side. Its walls are fully an inch in thickness, and
it looks strong enough to bear rolling about on the ground. This
specimen was placed on a branch, but the bird is not very particu-
lar as to the locality of its nest, sometimes building it on a branch
of a tree, sometimes on a beam in an outhouse, and now and then
on the top of palings ; generally, however, it is built in the bush-
es, but without any attempt at concealment. Owing to its dimen-
sions and shape, the nest is extremely conspicuous, and the utter
indifference of the bird on this subject is not the least curious
part of its history.

Strong as is the nest, it is still farther strengthened by a pecul-
iarity in the architecture, which is not visible from the exterior.
If one of the nests be carefully divided, the observer will see that
the interior is even more singular than the outside. Crossing the
nest from side to side is a wall or partition, made of the same ma-
terials as. the outer shell, and reaching nearly to the top of the
dome, thus dividing the nest into two chambers, and having also
the effect of strengthening the whole structure. The inner cham-
ber is devoted to the work of incubation, and within it is a soft
bed of feathers on which the eggs are placed. The female sits
upon them in this dark chamber, and the outer room is probably
used by her mate. The reader will remember that several in-
stances of such supplementary nests have already been mentioned.
The eggs are generally four in number.

Both sexes work at the construction of the nest, and seem to
find the labor rather long and severe, as they are continually em-
ployed in fetching clay, grass, and other materials, or in working
them together with their bills. While thus employed they are
very jealous of the presence of other birds, and drive them away
fiercely, screaming shrilly as they attack the intruder.

Australia produces the two remarkable birds whose nests are
given in the accompanying illustration.

The first of these feathered builders is the Pied Gralltxa
{Grallina Australis), a bird which has become familiar to the pub-
lic since its introduction to the Zoological Gardens. A pair of

330

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

these birds have lived for some time in the Aquarium House, and
have always attracted much attention as they fly to and fro in the
large inclosure which is dedicated to them, to the dabchicks, king-
fishers, wagtails, and other water-loving birds. Owing to the bold
contrasts of black and white in their coloring they are very con-
spicuous, and their restless movements always attract the eye.

Although in its shape the nest of the Pied Grrallina does not re-
semble that of the Oven Bird, the materials with which it is con-
structed are almost identical, consisting of mud and clay, in which
are interwoven certain sticks, grasses, feathers, and stems of plants,
which serve to bind the clay together, just as cow's hair binds to-

Fairy Martin.

Pied Grallina.

gether the plaster on our walls. When looking at these nests, the
observer is irresistibly reminded of the old Babylonish bricks, in
which the grass and straw still remain, and serve to strengthen the
ill-burned clay, which in many cases was only dried in the sun.

THE PIED GRALLINA, SONG THRUSH, AND BLACKBIRD. 331

Possibly, if the bird were deprived of such materials, and only
furnished with mud and clay, it would be as much at a loss as
were the captive Israelites when they were compelled to make
bricks without being supplied with straw.

Like the Oven Bird, the Pied Grallina makes no attempt to
conceal its nest, but places it quite conspicuously on a branch, as
is shown in the illustration. It is almost invariably built on a
bough which overhangs the water, and, in spite of its weight and
size, is fixed so firmly to the branch that there is no fear lest it
should overbalance itself. The walls of the nest are very thick
and solid, and the whole edifice looks very like an exceedingly
rude and ill-baked earthenware vessel — just such a one, indeed,
as Robinson Crusoe manufactured on his island. The bird is
widely spread over Australia, so that its nest may be found in
many parts of the country.

I MAY here mention that two of our best-known song-birds
form a basin-like nest of somewhat similar materials. Every one
who has taken the nest of a Song Thrush ( Turdus musicus) will
remember that its interior is lined with a cup of a substance that
resembles clay, but which is, in fact, composed chiefly of cowdung
and decayed wood. This cup is exceedingly thin, but it is very
hard and tough, and is so compact in its structure that it will hold
water for some time. Like the mud wall of the Pied Grallina, it is
strengthened by sticks and grass, with this difference, that where-
as the latter bird incorporates the sticks and straws with the mud,
the Thrush works the cup upon the sticks and straws.

The Blackbird {Turdus merula), too, has a similar habit, only
it employs veritable mud for the purpose, and spreads it in a
much thicker layer than the Thrush. The eggs, however, are
not placed on the dried mud, but on a layer of very fine grass.
The object of this curious lining seems to be still undiscovered.
Both the birds build in similar localities, and both make their
nests close to the ground. It is possible that the stout walls may
prevent the weasel or stoat from tearing the nest away from be-
low, and so catching the young birds, but this is mere conjecture.
Even the muddy lining does not repel all such attacks, for I once
knew a doa; that was in the habit of searching for nests of both
these birds, and of eating the eggs and the young. He always
obtained his prey by getting under the nest, biting out the bot-
tom, and receiving the contents in his mouth.

332 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

The curious flask-shaped nests which are seen in the illustra-
tion are built wholly of clay and mud, and are made by a beauti-
ful little Australian bird named the Fairy Martin ( Hirundo
Ariel), closely allied, as its generic name signifies, to the swallows
and martins of our own country. The bird is spread over the
whole of Southern Australia, where it arrives in August, and
whither it departs in September.

These remarkable nests are generally to be found upon rocks,
and are always close to rivers, but have never been seen within
many miles of the sea. Now and then, however, the bird chooses
another locality, and, instead of fixing its nests to the side of a
rock, attaches them to the interior of one of the huge hollow trees
which are so common in Australia. Now and then it behaves
like the martin of England, and builds' its nest under the protec-
tion of human habitations.

The shape of the nests always resembles that of a flask or re-
tort, and their size is extremely variable, the length of the spouts
or necks being from seven to ten inches, and the diameter of the
bulb varying from four to seven inches. Mr. Gould mentions, in
his work on the Birds of Australia, that each nest is the joint
work of several birds, six or seven being sometimes employed
upon one nest, one sitting in the interior, as chief architect, ar-
ranging and smoothing the material, while the others go off in
search of mud and clay, which they knead well in their mouths
before applying it to the nest.

As is generally the case with clay which is thus kneaded, it be-
comes very hard when baked in the sun, but, at the same time, is
rather slow in drying. When the weather is dry, the bird can
only work in the mornings and evenings, because the heat of the
sunbeams soon renders the clay too stiff to be worked by the del-
icate beaks of the birds; and, therefore, in the middle of the day,
the Fairy Martins cease from their architectural labors, and do
nothing but chase flies. During wet weather, however, when no
flies are abroad, and the air is full of moisture, the birds work con-
tinually at their nests, and soon complete their labors.

The exterior of the nest is quite as rough as that of the com-
mon English martin, but in the interior it is beautifully smooth.
The birds do not seem to have any particular care about the
point of the compass toward which the entrance looks, but ar-
range it indifferently in any direction.

The Fairy Martin is a prolific little bird, laying four or five
eggs, and rearing two broods in a year.

THE RUFOUS-NECKED AND RUFOUS-BELLIED SWALLOWS. 333

There is an American Swallow which builds a nest very simi-
lar in form to that of the Fairy Martin. This is the Eufous-
necked Swallow (Hirundofulva), whose nests are made of mud,
and flask-shaped, but have a wider and shorter neck than is the
case with the nest of the Fairy Martin. On account of its grega-
rious propensities, it is sometimes called the Kepublican Swal-
low. Wherever a favorable spot is found, such as a perpendic-
ular rock with an overhanging shelf, the nests are built in profu-
sion, being placed so close to each other that the rock is almost
covered with them.

The birds are also gregarious on the wing as well as in nesting,
as will be seen by Audubon's remarks upon their habits : "About
sunset they begin to flock together, calling to each other for that
purpose, and in a short time presented the appearance of clouds
moving toward the lakes on the mouth of the Mississippi, as the
weather and wind suited. Their aerial evolutions before they
alight are truly beautiful. They appear at first as if reconnoi-
tering the place, when, suddenly throwing themselves into a vor-
tex of apparent confusion, they descend spirally with astonishing
quickness, and very much resemble a trombe or water -spout.
When within a few feet of the driers, they disperse in all direc-
tions, and settle in a few moments. Their twitterings and the
motion of their wings are, however, heard during the whole night.

" As soon as the day begins to dawn, they rise, flying low over
"the lakes, almost touching the water for some time, and then, ris-
ing gradually, move off in search of food, separating in different
directions. The hunters who resort to these places destroy great
numbers of them by knocking them down with light paddles,
used in propelling their canoes." The drier which is here men-
tioned is the French popular name for the Myrica- cerifera, a shrub
belonging to the same genus as the well-known British shrub
called Sweet Gale, or Dutch Myrtle.

Another American bird, the Eufous-bellied Swallow (Hi-
t-undo erytiirogaster), is notable for the nest which it makes. This
species follows the example of the Oven Bird in its selection of
materials, strengthening the mud walls of its nest with fine hay.
The nest is furthermore remarkable for having a supplementary
perch, or small nest attached to the larger one, serving as a seat
for the male while his mate is engaged in the business of incuba-
tion. On such occasions he is in the habit of pouring forth a

334 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

lively though not varied song, being, in fact, a sustained twitter.
The shell of the nest is about an inch in thickness, and the mixed
mud and haj are arranged in regular layers. Owing to the thick-
ness, and the complicated structure of the nest, a full week is re-
quired for its completion. The form of the nest is nearly that of
an inverted cone, being flattened on the side which is set against
the wall or rock. The bird is of gregarious habits, and twenty
or thirty nests are often seen so close together that a finger could
scarcely be placed between them.

Fortunately for itself, this bird is protected by popular super-
stition, which attributes all kinds of ill luck to the person who
kills one of them. Wilson remarks that, in consequence of long
immunity, they feel so secure among human habitations, that, al-
though the woods may be destitute of them, every farm-house is
sure to attract them. There is scarcely a barn in which they
will not build ; and right glad is the farmer when they take pos-
session of a building, for, according to popular belief, such a build-
ing will never be injured by lightning. He farther mentions
that a farmer said that, if he were to permit his swallows to be
shot, all his cows would give bloody milk ; to which remark Wil-
son merely nodded assent, being unwilling to disturb any feeling,
however superstitious, which had for its object the protection of
useful birds. ,

We have several builders among our British birds, the best
known of which is the common House Martin (Chelidon urbica),
whose nests are so plentiful upon the walls of our houses.

The material of which the nests are built is a kind of mud,
which becomes tolerably hard when dry, and is strong enough
to exist for a series of years, and to serve for the bringing up of
many successive broods. The bird is exceedingly capricious as
to the spot which it selects for its residence, some houses being
crowded with the mud-built nests, while others are free from
them. The points of the compass are always noted by the Mar-
tin, for there are some points which it clearly detests, while it is
equally fond of others. A wall with a northeastern aspect is a
favorite locality, while a southern wall is seldom chosen, proba-
bly because the heat of the meridian sun might dry the mud too
quickly, or might cause inconvenience to the young birds.

My own house, however, forms an exception to the general
rule, for the Martins have chosen to build on the south wall only,

THE HOUSE MARTIN". 335

probably because the eaves project so far that after nine A.M.
the nests are in shadow. Moreover, there is a narrow ledge, bare-
ly an inch in width, which runs under the eaves, and forms a
support for the nests. While the Martins were engaged in bring-
ing up their young, I ascended to the nests, and inspected them
carefully, much to the indignation of the parent birds, who flew
about wildly, darting occasionally out of their nests, and then
stopping short and dashing away over the house. The opening
of the nest being close against the eaves, the interior could not be
inspected ; but the touch of the finger showed that the walls were
tolerably smooth, forming a great contrast with the rough exte-
rior. The young birds were quite as much alarmed as their par-
ents, and shrank to the very bottom of the nest, where they were
quite invisible.

As to the nests themselves, they are exceedingly irregular on
the outside, and look as if they had been made of that preternat-
urally ugly substance called " rough-cast," with which the walls
of houses are sometimes disfigured. The material of which the
Martin makes its nest is said to be the earth that is ejected by
worms ; but that this substance does not form the whole of the
material is evident from the fact that stones, grass, and feathers
are mixed with the mud, together with small twigs and a few fine
roots of an inch or two in length.

The Martin is a rather ingenious bird, and is always ready to
take advantage of any circumstance which may aid it in building
its nest. The inch- wide ledge, for example, which I have just
mentioned, has been quite appropriated by Martins, and there is
scarcely a part of it which does not bear marks of their labors.
At least a dozen nests have been begun and abandoned after a
few beakfuls of mud have been put together, probably because
the position is so exceedingly advantageous that the birds can
scarcely begin in one place without regretting that they have not
chosen a neighboring spot.

There is an interesting account in the "Zoologist" of the unex-
pected skill displayed by these birds : " Under the eaves of a
house, not so high as to be beyond the reach of any urchin who
could procure a rod or fling a stone, a Martin had built its nest,
which had more than once been destroyed. There is no doubt
that, under ordinary circumstances, these birds would have gone
on building their habitation in the same place and manner, if left
to themselves and their own resources, although even in such

336 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

cases some important variation in the structure has been known
to have occurred. But, in the present instance, the inhabitants
of the cottage were not satisfied to see the labors of their favorite
perpetually rendered void, and they set their wits to work in what
manner to secure them from harm.

" The method adopted was to place a small round basket un-
der the eaves, at the place where the nest had been, as a protec-
tion from injury below; but it was attended with the inconven-
ience that the handle prevented it from being pressed into contact
with the stone, while the breadth of the basket was so great as to
cause the wet dripping from the eaves to fall within the cavity.
It was to obviate this last annoyance that a fiat piece of board
was laid as a cover to the basket, with the precaution of leaving
an opening, not in front, but at the side, for the birds to enter, if
they should choose to adopt this new contrivance for their ad-
vantage; and they did justice to the kind intentions of their
friends by adopting it, and that, too, in a way of their own con-
trivance. They began by placing a rim of their usual mortar
round the basket, at the border where the covering board rested
on it; but in thus rendering it safe and close on every side, they
observed the precaution of leaving a small hole at the side by
which to enter. In this convenient piece of wicker-work they
formed a cradle, in which they were able successfully to rear
their brood.

"But this was not all. Another pair of birds had seen the
good fortune of their fellows, and they resolved to be sharers in
the advantage they were enjoying. The space above the board,
and within the arched handle of the basket, was only inferior to
the basket itself as a situation for a nest, and there, accordingly,
they proceeded to place it. It was formed of clay, in the usual
manner, and here, immediately above their neighbors, they suc-
cessfully hatched their young. . . . The laying hold of a novel
but obvious convenience to secure an important object is not the
least of the operations of the reasoning powers."

The writer of this notice is quite correct in attributing the per-
formances of these birds to reason, and not to instinct. Instinct
would have taught them to make their nests under ordinary con-
ditions, and to raise their clay-built houses against a wall. But
the mental process which led them to accommodate themselves to
such a change of circumstances as the substitution of a basket for
a wall does undoubtedly belong to the province of reason rather
than of instinct.

THE HOUSE MARTIX — THE SWALLOW. 337

To examine minutely the economy of a Martin's nest is a pleas-
ant task enough, but has its drawbacks, which are very numer-
ous, and may be summed up in one word — vermin.

All birds are liable to the attacks of parasitic insects, but the
Martins contrive to harbor such quantities of them that the spec-
tator can not but wonder how they contrive to live through the
constant attacks. The nest itself swarms with them ; and so nu-
merous are their hosts, that I have found an isolated lump of clay
filled with these repulsive insects, though at the distance of eight-
een inches from the nest. They are not visible at first, and but
for their cast skins would probably attract no notice. But when
one of these innocent-looking pieces of mud is removed, and put
under a glass in which a few drops of spirits of turpentine have
been placed, the vermin come trooping out of every crevice, many
in numbers, large in dimensions, and obese in outline.

In one lump of clay about as large as a walnut I have seen so
man}?" parasites that they seemed capable of devouring all the lit-
tle birds ; and when it is remembered that every portion of the
nest is equally tenanted, how the inmates can survive for a single
night is indeed a matter of surprise. Their size is absolutely
portentous ; for, when compared with the birds on which they
feed, they are as large as full-grown frogs compared with men.
I mention this circumstance in order that my readers may be
chary of bringing a Martin's nest into a room, for to introduce
such pests into the house is far more easy than to extirpate them.
Most insects are killed at once by inhaling the vapor of turpen-
tine, but I have kept a number of them shut up in a tin box in
which some spirits of turpentine had been poured, and after six-
and-thirty hours found them still alive. They certainly dislike
the vapor, and it has the -effect of stupefying them ; but, as soon
as they are removed from its influence, the fresh air seems to re-
store them, and they begin to crawl about again.

The common Swallow {Hirundo rusticd) also makes a clay-
built nest, similar in many respects to that of the martin, but dif-
fering in its shape. The nest of the martin is always covered,
and entered by an aperture on one side. Mostly it is built im-
mediately under a projecting ledge, which answers the purpose of
a roof, but if no such accommodation can be obtained, it covers in
the nest with a dome-like roof. The nest of the Swallow, on the
contrary, is open at the top, probably because the long forked

Y

338 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

tail would be crushed if pressed into so small a compass, while
the shorter and simpler tail of the martin does not require so
much space.

Wherever it can find an old chimney, the Swallow will always
build its nest therein, a habit which has gained for the bird the
popular title of Chimney Swallow. It will, howeverf build in
many other situations, such as precipitous rocks and quarries,
barns, outhouses, and steeples. There are usually five eggs, and
the nest is lined with a soft bed of feathers, like that of the mar-
tin.

I must now refer the reader to the large illustration, wherein
is depicted a group of natives engaged in digging eggs out of an
earth-heap. This engraving represents a scene of very common
occurrence in Australia, and serves to illustrate the habits of the
natives as well as of the bird, which will presently be described.

In the foreground is a group of natives resting themselves after
a successful hunt, the evidences of which are scattered around
them. There is the emu with its head in the woman's lap, the
kangaroo, the echidna, and the duckbill. The weapons by which
they were killed are thrown carelessly on the ground, and com-
prise the waddy or club, the boomerang, the spear, and the wum-
merah, or throwing stick, by which it is hurled with terrific force.
The large wooden shield indicates also that the natives in ques-
tion consider themselves in danger of hostile tribes. On the up-
per branches of a tree are seen a pair of those wonderful king-
fishers, popularly termed, from their cry, Laughing Jackasses, and
in the centre of the illustration is seen an old man crouched upon
his knees, busily engaged in digging from a large mound some
eggs which are arranged nearly in a circle, and are set perpendic-
ularly, with their larger end upward, as if they had been placed
there by the Opposition party in Lilliput.

This mound is the work of an Australian bird popularly called
the Brush Turkey, or Tallegalla {Tallegalla Lathami), one
of a small series of birds which scrape together great heaps of
vegetable substances, and lay their eggs in them so as to be
hatched by the heat given out during the process of fermentation.
A very brief account of these birds will be given, but we will at
present confine ourselves to the Tallegalla.

This bird belongs to the order Gallinae and the family Mega-
podidas, .or large-footed birds, the name being given to them on.

NE6T OF TAI.LKGAI.I

THE BRUSH TURKEY. 341

account of the very great comparative size of the feet. It is a
native of New South Wales, and is generally found in the densest
bushes, through which it can make its way with such rapidity
that it can scarcely be captured. As the bird is called by many
names, I will mention one or two of them, so that the reader may
be better able to identify it while reading the accounts of observ-
ant but unscientific travelers. The natives sometimes call it Tal-
legalla, and sometimes Weelah ; and it is occasionally named the
New Holland Vulture, because the bare head and neck give it a
somewhat vulturine aspect.

"We will now proceed to the nest itself.

This curious edifice is often of very great size, several cart-
loads of materials being used, and its dimensions enlarged from
year to year. In order to show the general appearance of the
nest, an example is shown in the background, with the bird run-
ning over it. The mound is conical in shape, and, as may be im-
agined from its enormous size, is the result of joint labor, several
hens uniting in its formation. The method by which it is made
is very curious, and Mr. Gould's account of the bird has been
fully corroborated by the habits of the birds in the Zoological
Gardens.

Tracing a circle of considerable radius, the birds begin to travel
round it, continually grasping with their large feet the leaves, and
grasses, and dead twigs which are lying about, and flinging them
inward toward the centre. Each time that they complete their
rounds they narrow their circle, so that in a short time they clear
away a large circular belt, having in its centre a low, irregular
heap. By repeating the same process, however, they decrease
the diameter of the mound as they increase its height, and at last
a large and rudely conical mound is formed.

The next process is to scrape away the middle of the heap un-
til a cavity of nearly two feet is formed, in which the eggs are
carefully placed, being set in the peculiar manner which has also
been mentioned. They are then covered up, and are hatched by
the joint effects of fermentation and hot sunbeams. By adopting
this process the bird does not escape any of the cares of materni-
ty, for the male is very watchful over the eggs, being gifted with
a wonderful instinct, which tells him of the temperature which is
proper for them. Sometimes he covers them with a thick layer
of leaves, and sometimes he lays them nearly bare, these opera-
tions being repeated several times in a single day.

342 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

At last the eggs are hatched ; but when the young bird escapes
from the shell, it does not emerge from the mound, remaining
therein for at least twelve hours. Even after it has enjoyed the
open air it retires to the mound toward evening, and is covered
up like the eggs, only not to so great a depth. It is a remarkable
fact that in all cases a nearly cylindrical hole is preserved in the
middle of the mound, being evidently intended as a chimney by
which the heat may be moderated, and through which gases pro-
duced by fermentation may escape. The reader will probably
call to mind that in a well-made haystack a central aperture is
preserved for exactly the same purpose, the modern farmer hav-
ing therefore been anticipated by a bird.

A very great number of eggs are placed in the nest, a bushel
of eggs being sometimes taken out of a single mound. These
eggs are peculiarly well flavored, and are equally sought by na-
tives and colonists. The Tallegalla has a habit of scratching
large holes in the ground while dusting itself after the manner of
gallinaceous birds, and these holes often serve to direct the expe-
rienced hunter toward the nest itself.

Another species of mound-making bird is tolerably common
about Port Essington. This is the Australian Jungle Fowl
{Megapodius tumulus), which makes earth-mounds of prodigious
size, one of them which was measured being no less than fifteen
feet in perpendicular height, and twenty feet in diameter. If the
reader will measure off twenty feet along the floor of a room, and
fifteen feet upon the walls, he will form a conception of the enor-
mous size of these tumuli. These heaps are always placed under
shelter, and are sometimes so enveloped in foliage that, in spite
of their great size, they can scarcely be discovered. The materi-
als of which they are composed are rather variable, according to
the locality, but the general mass consists of leaves, grass, and oth-
er vegetable matter.

Yast numbers of eggs are laid in these nests, and are placed at
a considerable depth, some of them being as much as six or seven
feet from the top of the heap. They are deposited in a curious
manner, the bird scratching its way into the heap, laying an egg,
and then filling up the hole as she makes her way out again.
The natives always use their hands in digging out these eggs, be-
cause their fingers can follow the track of the bird, the softer and
looser material acting as a guide. A twig is generally used as a

THE LEIPOA. 343

probe by which the presence of a hole is detected, but the hands
are the only tools which are used in following up the tortuous
track, which sometimes proceeds in a straight line, and then turns
suddenly at an angle, the bird having come on a stone or some
such obstacle, which prevents her from continuing in the same
line.

It is a remarkable fact that these mounds are always found
near the sea, and in one instance a heap was seen on the very
shore, only just above high- water mark.

The curious bird called by the natives Leipoa, and by colonists
the Native Pheasant {Leipoa ocellala), is another of the mound-
makers. In order to avoid confusing the mind of the reader, I
may here mention that there are three Australian birds which
are popularly called pheasants, the one being the Leipoa, and the
others the two species of lyre-bird (Menura). The Leipoa cer-
tainly has a very pheasant-like appearance, both in the general
outline of the head and body, together with the penciled plumage,
the long tail being only wanted in order to complete the resem-
blance. It is usually found toward the northwest portions of
Australia, preferring sandy plains to any other localities.

The mound which is made by the Leipoa is comparatively
small, being seldom more than eight or nine feet in diameter, and
a yard or so in height. It is made up of mixed sand, soil, leaves,
and grass, and is sometimes so hard at its lowest portions that the
hands become useless in digging out the eggs, and strong tools
are required. In each nest there are usually about a dozen eggs,
which are deposited singly in the mound. One nest, however,
will afford a large supply of eggs, just as is the case with our do-
mestic hens ; for, if her nest be repeatedly robbed, the bird con-
tinues to lay for a very long time. The eggs are whitish, slight-
ly speckled with dull red. It is a curious fact that a number of
ants are always to be found about the nest of the Leipoa, and
their presence, together with the hard, strong substance of the
lower part of the nest, would lead many persons to suppose that
the mound was nothing but a large ant-hill.

344: HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

CHAPTER XVII.

BUILDING BIRDS— (Continued).

Nesting of the Hornbills. — Dr. Livingstone's Account of the Korwe, or Red-
ekeasted Hornbill. — The Long-tailed Titmodse. — Its general Habits. — Its
Use to the Gardener. — Number of the Young. — Form and Materials of the Nest. —
Localities chosen by the Bird. — How to prepare the fragile Eggs. — The Magpie.
— Its domed and fortified Nest. — The common Ween and its Nest. — Pseudo-nests
and their probable Origin. — The House Wren of America. — Its Habits and
Mode of Nesting. — Wilson's Account of the Bird. — Its Usefulness and quarrel-
some Nature. — The Lyre Bird. — Origin of its Name. — Its domed Nest. — The
Albert's Lyre Bird and its Habits. — The Bower Bird. — Why so called. —
Civilization and social Amusement. — The remarkable Bower. — Its Materials and
Mode of Construction. — Use to which it is put. — The Bower Birds in the Zoolog-
ical Gardens, and their Habits. — Love of Ornament. — Meaning of the scientific
Name. — The Spotted Bower Bird of New South Wales. — Its Bower. — De-
scription of the Birds, and their place in the present System.

The reader may remember that in the account of the toucan
and its semi-burrowing mode of nesting, it was mentioned that
the bird was sometimes in the habit of closing the aperture of its
nest with mud. It is a very remarkable fact that both groups
of large-billed birds should possess the same habit, and that the
Hornbill of Africa should close its nest with mud like the tou-
can of tropical America. These groups of birds are somewhat
similar in external appearance, the huge beak giving them a kind
of family likeness. They are, however, widely distinct in zoolog-
ical systems, the toucans belonging to the scansorial, or climbing
birds, and the hornbills ranking with the touracos, plantain-eaters,
and colies.

Like the toucan, the Ilornbill makes its nest in the hole of
some decaying tree, and one of the species, at all events, seems in-
variably to reduce the size of the entrance by plastering it up
with mud, and leaving only a very little aperture. The follow-
ing interesting account of the Ilornbill and its nest is quoted from
Dr. Livingstone's well-known work.

" We passed through large tracts of Mopane country, and my
men caught a great many of the birds called Korwe (Tochis ery-
thorhynchus) in their hiding-places, which were in holes in the

THE KORWE. 3-i5

mopane-tree. On the 19th (February) we passed the nest of a
Korwd, just ready for the female to enter; the orifice was plas-
tered on both sides, but a space was left of a heart shape, and ex-
actly the size of the bird's body. The hole in the tree was in
every case found to be prolonged some distance upward above
the opening, and thither the Korwe always fled to escape being
caught. In another nest we found that one white egg, much like
that of the j)igeon, was laid, and the bird dropped another when
captured. She had four besides in the ovarium.

" The first time that I saw this bird was at Kolobeng, where I
had gone to the forest for some timber. Standing by a tree, a
native looked behind me, and exclaimed, ' There is the nest of a
Korwe.' I saw a slit, only about half an inch wide and three or
four inches long, in a slight hollow of the tree. Thinking the
word ' Korwe' denoted some small animal, I waited with interest
to see what he would extract ; he broke the clay which sur-
rounded the slit, put his arm into the hole, and brought out a
Tockus, or Red-breasted Hornbill, which he killed.

" He informed me that when the female enters her nest, she
submits to a real confinement. The male plasters up the en-
trance, leaving only a narrow slit by which to feed his mate, and
which exactly suits the form of his beak. The female makes a
nest of her own feathers, lays her eggs, hatches them, and remains
with the young till they are fully fledged. During all this time,
which is stated to be two or three months, the male continues to
feed her and the young family. The prisoner generally becomes
fat, and is esteemed a very dainty morsel by the natives, while
the poor slave of a husband gets so lean that, on the sudden low-
ering of the temperature, which sometimes happens after a fall of
rain, he is benumbed, falls down, and dies. I never had an op-
portunity of ascertaining the exact length of the confinement, but
on passing the same tree at Kolobeng about eight days afterward,
the hole was plastered up again, as if in the short time that had
elapsed the disconsolate husband had secured another wife. "We
did not disturb her, and my duties prevented me from returning
to the spot.

" This (February) is the month in which the female enters the
nest. We had seen one of these, as before mentioned, with the
plastering not quite finished; we saw many completed, and we
received here the very same account that we did at Kolobeng.
that the bird comes forth when the }7oung is fully fledged, at the

346 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

period when the corn is ripe ; indeed, her appearance abroad
with her young is one of the signs they have for knowing when
it ought to be so. As that is about the end of April, the time is
between two and three months. She is said sometimes to hatch
two eggs, and when the young of these are full fledged, other two
are just out of the egg-shells ; she then leaves the nest with the
two elder, the orifice is again plastered up, and both male and fe-
male attend to the wants of the young which are left."

In this curious history of bird architecture, two points are pe-
culiarly interesting, one being the reservation of a higher point
whereto the bird may fly in case of invasion, and the other the
fact that two broods of young can be in the nest at one time.

Passing from the birds which build with mud, we now come
to those which use vegetable substances in their habitations. As
examples of such architecture, we shall select the nests of those
birds which are able to construct domed habitations, as well as
the remarkable structures which are built by the Beaver birds of
Australia.

The Long-tailed Titmouse (Parus caudatus) constructs a nest
which is quite as wonderful in its way as the pensile home of the
harvest-mouse.

This pretty little bird is very plentiful in England, and, owing
to its habit of associating in little flocks of ten or twelve in num-
ber, and the exceeding restlessness of its character, is very familiar
to all observers of nature. These flocks generally consist of the
parent and their offspring, for the little creature is exceedingly
prolific, laying a vast quantity of tiny eggs in its warm nest, and
rearing most of the young to maturity. This is a bird which
ought to be cherished by all possessors of fields or gardens, for
there is scarcely a more determined enemy to the many noxious
insects which destroy the fruits, vegetables, and flowers. Fortu-
nately for ourselves, the Long-tailed Titmouse is very fond of the
various saw-flies that work such mischief among our fruit-trees,
and often lay waste whole acres of gooseberries, and it is no ex-
aggeration to say that to a possessor of an orchard, or a fruit-gar-
den of any kind, every Long-tailed Titmouse is well worth its lit-
tle weight in gold.

"Were it only for the beauty and elegance of its form, no one
who had an eye for living art could kill the pretty little bird,

THE LONG-TAILED TITMOUSE.

u:

and reduce the bright, active, happy creature to a mere pinch of
ruffled feathers. Were it only for the wonderful structure of its
nest, it would be worthy of preservation. But when we come
to consider the inestimable and mappreciated services which this
tiny bird renders to mankind, we should not only be devoid of
all gratitude, but likewise of all common sense — which, however,
comes to much the same point — were we willingly to destroy our
feathered benefactor.

''":k^'/m^f-

The Long-tailed Titmoupe.

Although almost every one who lives in the country, or who
possesses a tolerably large garden in a town, is perfectly familiar
with this bird, comparatively few are in a position to narrate
from personal observation the benefits which it confers upon us.
The reason is simple ; they do not rise early enough. A Long-
tailed Titmouse in early morning, and the identical bird at noon,
scarcely seem to be the same creature, so different are its ways.
It is a specially early bird, earlier than the sparrow, which is apt
to be rather a sluggard as regards leaving its nest, though it sets

348 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

up its garrulous chirp soon after daybreak. At that hour of the
morning the Long-tailed Titmouse seems to cast off fear and dif-
fidence, and allows itself to be "watched without displaying much
alarm. Indeed, with the aid of a good opera-glass, it may be ob-
served almost as well as if it were in a cage.

As the sun ascends above the horizon, and men and boys begin
to go about to their daily work, the Titmouse loses its easy confi-
dence, and will not suffer itself to be approached so calmly as in
the early morning. Generally, somewhere about five or six
A.M., it leaves the garden and flies afield, and must then be
sought far from human habitation. If, however, the garden
should happen to be surrounded by walls, and the owner should
happen to understand humanity as well as self-interest, the little
bird will know that it will not be disturbed, and will remain in
its sanctuary throughout the greater part of the day.

The quick, lively movements of the little creature are quite
indescribable, so incessant and so varied are its changes of atti-
tude. As it runs about the branches, it seems almost independ-
ent of gravity, and is equally at its ease whether its head, back,
or breast be upward. It ever and anon utters an odd chirping
note, which seems to issue from the bird as if it proceeded from
some internal machinery, and were independent of the will of the
creature which utters it. The observer should be careful to no-
tice its quick, frequent pecks, and may be sure that every such
movement denotes the slaughter of some insect, whether in the
stage of egg, larva, pupa, or imago. The little beak is by no
means so feeble as it seems, and is able to pick up an insect so
small as would escape the observation of human eyes, or to
pounce upon and destroy one which many a human being would
not care to handle.

All the little flock, which are seen flitting about the trees, dart-
ing from branch to branch and tree to tree as if they were little
arrows projected from bows, have at one time been inmates of the
same nest, the beautiful domed structure which is shown in the
illustration. How they are accommodated in so small a space
seems quite a mystery, for not only is the hollow of the nest of
no great size, but the interior is so filled with feathers and down
that the space is still farther limited.

The nest of the Long-tailed Titmouse is rather variable in
shape, but its usual form is shown in the illustration. Generally
it is rather oval, and has an aperture at one side and near the top,

THE LOXG-TAILED TITMOUSE. 349

*

through which the bird can pass. I believe that all domed nests,
whether of bird or beast, are constructed by at least two archi-
tects, one of which remains within, while the other works from
without. This is certainly the case with many creatures, and is
probably so with all. The materials of which the nest is made
are mosses of various kinds, wool, hair, and similar substances,
woven by them with great firmness. It is remarkable that in
the construction of this nest, which requires peculiar solidity, the
Long-tailed Titmouse uses materials like those which are em-
ployed by the humming-birds, and binds its nest together with
the webs of spiders, and the silken hammocks of various cater-
pillars. The exterior of the nest is covered with lichens, so that
the whole edifice looks very much like a natural excrescence
upon^he tree or bush in which it is placed, as is the case with
the well-known nest of the chaffinch.

Sometimes the form of the nest is rather different from that
which has been mentioned, and the structure is flask-shaped, the
entrance corresponding to the neck of the flask. Now and then
a nest is found in which there are two openings, one near the top
in the usual position, and the other on the opposite side and near
the bottom. The presence of one or two apertures is probably
influenced by the position of the nest and the climate of the lo-
cality. If the finger be introduced into the aperture, a charm-
ingly soft and warm bed of downy feathers is felt, in which,
rather than on which, the numerous eggs repose.

The bird will build its nest in various trees, but always chooses
a spot where the branches are very close and the foliage dense.
The gorse bush is a favorite residence of the Long-tailed Tit-
mouse, and so deeply is the nest buried in the prickly branches
that it can not be removed without the aid of thick leather gloves,
and a sharp, strong knife. Some skill and artistic taste are re-
quired in order to secure a good specimen, and it is difficult to
hit the happy medium between cutting away too many branches,
and retaining so many that the shape of the nest can not be seen
for their luxuriance. I may mention here that such nests are
fertile homes of insects and various vermin, and that they ought
to be placed in a box with spirits of turpentine ^for some weeks,
and then exposed to strong heat, before the possessor can be sure
that all existing insects are dead, and their eggs addled.

The number of eggs is rather variable, but is always great, and,
on an average, some ten or twelve eggs can be found in a nest.

350 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

They are so small and so fragile that the novice finds great diffi-
culty in emptying them without breaking their delicate shells.
This task may, however, be accomplished with perfect ease and
safety if managed in the right way. Each egg should be envel-
oped in repeated wrappers of silver paper, soaked in a solution
of gum-arabic, one layer being allowed to dry before the next is
added. When they are dry, a little hole is easily drilled on one
side by means of a needle, the contents of the egg are then broken
up with the same needle, and are then washed out by injecting
water through a very delicate glass tube. Any one can make
these slender tubes by merely taking a piece of ordinary glass
tubing, heating it in a spirit lamp, and drawing the ends apart. It
may then be broken off to form a tube of any degree of fineness,
and by alternate injection of water and sucking the diluted con-
tents into the tube, the egg will soon be emptied.

We have another well-known bird which makes a nest as well
domed as that of the long-tailed titmouse, though not nearly so
pretty nor so elegant. This is the common Magpie (Pica cauda-
ta), which is one of the very handsomest birds that are indigenous
to England. Popularly the Magpie is thought to be only black
and white ; in reality there is scarcely a black feather about the
bird, its plumage being adorned with steel-blue, green, and pur-
ple of such intensity that in certain' lights they appear to be jetty
black. I may here mention that the wings and tail of the Mag-
pie can be made into beautiful fire-screens, which are light and
elegant as well as brilliantly colored.

The nest of the Magpie is of very large size when compared
with the dimensions of the architect, probably on account of the
long tail of the mother bird, which can not be protruded over the
edge of the nest, as is the case with many long-tailed birds. It
is not merely made of moss and similar soft substances, but the
frame-work is very strongly constructed of sticks, among which
are generally interwoven a number of sharp thorns, so that the
nest is nearly as unpleasant to the bare hand as a thistle. More-
over, the bird has a way of gathering the thorns round the en-
trance, so that the hand can not be inserted into the nest without
danger of many wounds. Indeed, the nest is so large, and the
eggs lie so far from the entrance, that to extract them is generally
a task that can not be accomplished without the aid of a knife.

Besides the thorny defense, the nest is mostly strengthened by

THE WEEN. 851

its very position, being generally fixed in the furcation of several
stout boughs, so that it can only be approached in certain parts.
Moreover, the great height at which the Magpie loves to build the
nest renders the operation of robbing it so dangerous, that many a
nest escapes because no one has nerve enough to risk the ascent.
The position of the nest, too, conceals its true form so well,
that a very practiced eye is needed to distinguish it from an or-
dinary swelling of the bough, or from the heaps of dislodged
twigs which are so often found in the forked branches of trees.
Deserted nests are very common, and during my bird's-nesting-
days I have frequently been disappointed to find that after all
the trouble of ascending a lofty tree, the nest was empty, and had
clearly been deserted for a year or two. Sometimes the nest is
occupied by other creatures, and in some parts of the country
the pine marten has been known to take possession of a deserted
Magpie's nest, and to lie therein quite unsuspected until driven
out by some accident. Although a lofty tree is mostly chosen by
the Magpie, such is not invariably the case, for now and then a
low tree, or even a bush, is selected. In any case, however, the
branches are sure to be thickly set, so that the nest may be firm-
ly held among the boughs.

Another of our feathered dome-builders is the common "Ween
{Troglodytes vulgaris). The form and coloring of this bird are too
well known to need description, and we shall therefore pass at
once to its mode of nesting.

The Wren is rather peculiar in its method of constructing the
nest, for, though it can build a dome when there is need for it,
and generally does so, it does not always choose to take so much
trouble, but contents itself with an open nest arched over by a
natural dome. "Wherever it can find a convenient cavity, it will
make its nest therein, building either no dome at all, or one of
very flimsy construction, and such nests can generally be found in
the holes of ivy-covered walls, under eaves, or among the thickly-
growing branches of fir-trees.

During the time when the Wren is building its nest, its loud,
cheerful voice is heard in full perfection, and so full and power-
ful are its tones that the tiny bird seems hardly able to produce
them. It is but a short song, and is little varied, the bird repeat-
ing nearly the same melody time after time within a few minutes.
The long-drawn song of the nightingale, or the mellow notes of

352 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

the thrush, are "beyond the power of the "Wren, but there are few
birds whose song is more enlivening, or which add so much to
the pleasure of a country walk. Besides the more formal song,
the Wren has a pretty little monosyllabic chirp, which it utters
as it pops about the hedges with its peculiar movements, dropping
and ascending again with restless activity. The bird is so bold,
too, that it will perch on a branch or a paling within a yard or
two of the observer, and pour forth its bright song without dis-
playing the least alarm.

As to the materials of the nest, the bird is in no way fastidious,
and generally seems to regard quantity rather than qualhYy.
Grasses of various kinds usually form the bulk of the nest, to-
g-ether with mosses, lichens, and similar substances. Withered
leaves are generally worked into the nest, and I have more than
once found specimens which were almost wholly composed of
leaves. The size of the nest is wonderfully large when the di-
mensions of the tiny architect are taken into consideration, and,
however large may be the hole in which the Wren makes its nest,
it is nearly filled with the mass of grass, leaves, and wool which
the Wren has conveyed into it. The interior of the nest is al-
ways warmly lined, sometimes with feathers and sometimes with
hair, and in the lining are generally some six or eight little eggs,
nearly white, and covered with very minute red specks.

Probably the very large mass of material is employed in order
to defend so small a bird from the inclemency of the season, for
the Wren stays with us throughout the year, and in the winter
time resides in the same nest which was used as a breeding-place
during the summer. If an old ivy-covered wallj or a haystack,
or an old house, be examined at night, there will often be found
certain pseudo-nests in which the Wren hides itself. These curi-
ous edifices are raised by the Wren, though they are never used
for the legitimate object of a nest, and the reason of their con-
struction is not very evident. In all probability they are the
work of young and inexperienced nest-builders, who begin to
make their home, and when they have proceeded with their work,
find that the locality is unsuitable, and that they must find anoth-
er spot. The juvenile bird-nester is often woefulty disappointed
by finding these nests, especially if he finds three or four in a sin-
gle wall or stack, as is not un frequently the case.

As is the case with the redbreast and one or two of our more
familiar birds, the Wren will sometimes enter houses and build

THE WREN. 853

its nest in curtains, on shelves, and similar localities, while the in-
terior of a disused green-house or stable-loft is nearly sure to be
tenanted by a Wren and its little brood.

An allied bird, the House Wren of Northern America {Trog-
lodytes cedon), has very much the same habits, and will generally
take possession of any box that is nailed on a wall or a post
where a cat can not reach it. On account of, probably, the bird-
eating snakes, which are plentiful in that country, the materials
of the nest are much stronger than in England, and consist gen-
erally of twigs and sticks on the exterior and feathers within.
Wilson mentions that on a hot June day, a mower happened to
hang up his coat in a shed, and left it there for two or three days.
When he removed it from the nail on which it had huno;, and
was putting it on, he found one of the sleeves quite choked up
with sticks, grass, and feathers, being the completed nest of a
House Wren. The unfortunate little architects were very angry
with the man for disturbing their home, and followed him out of
the shed, scolding him for the damage which he had unwittingly
done to their newly-finished home.

Happily for the little bird, the popular feeling is in favor of its
preservation, and in many a garden there is a box for the House
Wren carefully mounted on a pole like one of our barrel pigeon-
cotes, and each box having only a little hole by way of entrance,
so that no larger and more powerful bird should be able to usurp
the comfortable little house. In default of a box, however, the
House Wren will put up with very poor accommodation, and
make its nest in an old hat nailed under the eaves of a house, or
in a fiower-pot, or in a hollow cocoa-nut or gourd. There is wis-
dom as well as kindness in providing a home for the House Wren,
for it is one of the insect-eating birds, and when it is thus suited
with a house, it remains near the spot, to the manifest advantage
of the herbs and fruit.

Of this little bird Wilson gives an interesting anecdote. "A
box fixed up in the window of the room where I slept was taken
possession of by a pair of Wrens. Already the nest was built
and two eggs laid, when one day, the window being open, as well
as the room door, the female Wren, venturing too far into the
room to reconnoitre, was sprung upon by grimalkin, who had
planted herself there for the purpose, and before relief could be
driven, was destroyed. Curious to see how the survivor would
demean himself, I watched him carefully for several days.

Z

854: HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

"At first he sang with great vivacity for an hour or so, but be-
coming weary, went off for half an hour ; on his return he chant-
ed again as before, went to the top of the house, stable, and weep-
ing-willow, that she might hear him ; but, seeing no appearance
of her, he returned once more, visited the nest, ventured cautious-
ly into the window, and gazed about with suspicious looks, his
voice sinking to a low, melancholy note as he stretched his little
neck about in every direction. Keturning to the box, he seemed
for some minutes at a loss what to do, and soon after went off as
I thought altogether, for I saw him no more that day.

" Toward the afternoon of the second day he again made his
appearance, accompanied by a new female, who seemed exceed-
ingly timorous and shy, and who, after great hesitation, entered
the box ; at this moment the little widower or bridegroom seem-
ed as if he would warble out his very life with ecstasy of joy.
After remaining about half a minute in, they both flew off, but
returned in a few minutes, and instantly began to carry out the
eggs, feathers, and some of the sticks, supplying the place of the
latter with materials of the same sort ; and ultimately they suc-
ceeded in raising a brood of seven young, all of which escaped in
safety."

In this little narrative there are two curious points to be no-
ticed, the one that the eggs already laid were turned out, and the
other that the new mistress of the house, with a natural jealousy
of her predecessor, rearranged the interior so as to suit her own
ideas of good taste.

As the bird is so useful, the proprietors of gardens would be
glad to have a number of families in their domains. This plan,
however admirable in theory, is found to be impracticable in fact,
the quarrelsome nature of the bird enduring no rival. During
the building season, the House Wren sings, fights, and builds with
equal energy, and drives away birds of three times his size. The
woodpecker is obliged to quit so, disturbed a spot ; the fussy and
active titmice yield to the Wren, and even the bluebird itself,
which is also a favored inmate of the garden, and is furnished
with breeding-boxes, is obliged to retire from the field, and to al-
low its tiny antagonist the choice of houses.

Australia is proverbially a strange land, and it is only in
Australia, or perhaps in Madagascar, that we should look for a
wren measuring some seventeen inches in height. Such a bird

THE LYRE BIED — THE ALBERT LYRE BIRD. 355

is, however, to be found in Australia, and is known to the natives
by the name of Bullen-bullen, and to the Europeans as the
Lyre Bird {Menura superba). It is remarkable, by the way, that
the genius of the Australian language causes many words to be
doubled, so that the natives speak of a well-known Australian
marsupial as the devil-devil, and of a domestic servant as Jacky-
Jacky.

New South "Wales is the chosen country of the Lyre Bird,
which is rather local, and affects certain defined boundaries. Its
native name is derived from its peculiar cry, afid the popular
European name is given to the bird on account of the shape of
its tail feathers. The two exterior feathers are curved in such a
manner that when the whole tail is spread they exactly resemble
the horns of an ancient lyre, the place of the strings being taken
by a number of slender decomposed feathers which rise from the
centre of the tail. When the bird is quietly at rest, the tail-feath-
ers cross each other at the curves, and present a very elegant ap-
pearance, though not in the least resembling a lyre. In general
shape the bird bears some resemblance to a small turkey, except
that the legs are longer and more slender, and that the feet do not
resemble those of a gallinaceous bird. It is rather remarkable
that the egg presents as curious a mixture of the insessorial and
gallinaceous aspects as the bird itself.

The nest of this bird is not at all unlike that of the wren, being
very much of the same shape, and domed after a similar fashion.
The nest is, however, a very rough piece of architecture, composed
almost wholly of twigs, roots, and various sticks, which are inter-
woven in a very loose, but very ingenious manner, so as to form a
structure of tolerable firmness, which can be lifted and even sub-
jected to rough treatment without being broken. At first sight
it looks like those heaps of dead twigs which are so common in
the birch-tree, but a closer inspection shows that there is a certain
regularity in the disposition of the sticks, and that the bird is not
without method, though that method be not at first apparent.

So rude a structure as this nest would be unsuitable for the
tender young, and therefore the whole of the interior is stuffed
full of soft feathers. The nest of an allied species, Albert Lyre ,
Bird (Menura Alberti), is made in a similar manner, except that
the materials are almost wholly small and rather long sticks.
Specimens of these nests may be seen in the British Museum.
Both the birds are very shy, and can not be approached without

356 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

the greatest caution. Like the gallinaceous birds, to which thev
bear a strong resemblance, they are fond of scratching large holes
in sandy soil, sometimes making them nearly a yard in width and
eighteen or twenty inches in depth.

In the " corroboring" places, as the natives call them, the Lyre
Bird is mostly to be found, and the experienced hunter always
watches for the disappearance of the bird into the hole to make
his advance. Every now and then it jumps out of the hole, and
struts about, mocking with wonderful facility the notes of various
other birds, and even imitating precisely those of the laughing
jackass. It has, however, a very sweet and powerful note of its
own. Each bird makes three or four of these corroboring places,
sometimes at a distance of three or four hundred yards from each
other.

Dr. Stephenson thinks that the corroboring places are not mere-
ly made for amusement, but that they are used as traps, in which
are caught sundry beetles and other insects, which fall into the
pits and can not get out again. In fact, should this theory be
true, the Lyre Bird and the ant-lion have a similar method of
trapping their prey in sandy pitfalls, though the former is a bird
and the latter an immature insect.

Our last example of the Building Birds will be the well-known
Bower Bird of Australia (Ptilonorhyncluis holosericeus).

Perhaps the whole range of ornithology does not produce a
more singular phenomenon than the fact of a bird building a house
merely for amusement, and decorating it with brilliant objects as
if to mark its destination. Such a proceeding marks a great prog-
ress in civilization, even among human races. The savage, pure
and simple, has no notion of undergoing more labor than can be
avoided, and thinks that setting his wives to build a hut is quite
as much labor as he chooses to endure.

The native Australians have no places of amusement. They
will certainly dance their corrobory in one part of the forest in
preference to another, but merely because the spot happens to be
suitable without the expenditure of manual labor. The Bushman
has no place of resort, neither has the much farther advanced Zulu
Kafir. Even the New^ Zealander, who is the most favorable ex-
ample of a savage, does not erect a building merely for the pur-
pose of amusement, and would perhaps fail to comprehend that
such an edifice could be needed. Such a task is left to the civil-

THE BOWER BIRD.

357

ized races, and it is somewhat startling to find that in erecting a
ballroom, or an assembly-room, or any similar building, we have
been long anticipated by a bird which was unknown until within
the last few years. Truly nothing is new under the sun.

The ballroom, or "bower," which this bird builds is a very re-
markable erection. Its general form can be seen by reference to
the illustration, but the method by which, it is constructed can
only be learned by watching the feathered architect at work.
Fortunately there are several specimens of this bird at the Zoo-
logical Gardens, and I have often been much interested in seeing
the bird engaged in its labors.

The Bower Bird.

Whether it works smartly or not in its native land I can not
say, but it certainly does not hurry itself in this country. It be-
gins by weaving a tolerably firm platform of small twigs, which
looks as if the bird had been trying to make a door-mat and had

358 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

nearly succeeded. It then looks for some long and rather slen-
der twigs, and pushes their bases into the platform, working them
tightly into its substance, and giving them such an inward incli-
nation that, when they are fixed at opposite sides of the platform,
their tips cross each other and form a simple arch. As these
twigs are set along the platforfn on both sides, the bird gradually
makes an arched alley, extending variably both in length and
height.

"When the bower is completed, the reader may well ask the use
to which it can be put. It is not a nest, and I believe that the
real nest of this bird has not yet been discovered. It serves as an
assembly-room, in which a number of birds take their amusement.
Not only do the architects use it, but many birds of both sexes
resort to it, and continually run through and round it, chasing
one another in a very sportive fashion.

While they are thus amusing themselves, they utter a curious,
deep, and rather resonant note. Indeed, my attention was first
attracted to the living Bower Bird by this note. One day, as I
was passing the great aviary in the Zoological Gardens, I was
startled by a note with which I was quite unacquainted, and
which I thought must have issued from the mouth of a parrot.
Presently, however, I saw a very glossy bird, of a deep purple
hue, running about, and occasionally uttering the sound which
had attracted me. Soon it was evident that this was a Bower
Bird engaged in building an assembly-room, and after a little
while he became reconciled to my presence, and went on with his
work. He went about it in a leisurely and reflective manner, tak-
ing plenty of time over his work, and disdaining to hurry himself.

First he would go off to the farther end of the compartment,
and there inspect a quantity of twigs which had been put there
for his use. After contemplating them for some time, he would
take up a twig and then drop it as if it were too hot to hold. Per-
haps he would repeat this process six or seven times with the
same twig, and then suddenly pounce on another, weigh it once
or twice in his beak, and carry it off. When he reached the bow-
er he still kept up his leisurely character, for he would perambu-
late the floor for some minutes, with the twig still in his beak,
and then perhaps would lay it down, turn in another direction,
and look as if he had forgotten about it. Sooner or later, howev-
er, the twig was fixed, and then he would run through the bower
several times, utter his loud cry, and start off for another twig.

THE SPOTTED BOWER BIRD. 359

Why these birds should trouble themselves to make this bower
is a problem as yet unsolved. Had the structure served in any
way as a protection from the weather, there would have been a
self-evident reason for its existence ; but the arching twigs are put
together so loosely that they can not protect the birds from wind
or rain. Whatever may be the object of the bower, the birds are
so fond of it that they resort to it during many hours of the day,
and a good bower is seldom left without a temporary occupant. -

Ornament is also employed by the Bower Bird, both entrances
of the bower being decorated witn bright and shining objects.
The bird is not in the least fastidious about the articles with which
it decorates its bower, provided only that they shine and are con-
spicuous. Scraps of colored ribbon, shells, bits of paper, teeth,
bones, broken glass and china, feathers, and similar articles, are
in great request, and such objects as a lady's thimble, a tobacco-
pipe, and a tomahawk have been found near one of their bowers.
Indeed, whenever the natives lose any small and tolerably porta-
ble object, they always search the bowers of the neighborhood,
and frequently find that the missing article is doing duty as deco-
ration to the edifice.

This species is more plentiful than another Bower Bird which
will presently be described. As is the case with many birds, the
adult male is very different from the young male and the female
in his coloring. His plumage is a rich, deep purple, so deep in-
deed as to appear black when the bird is standing in the shade.
It is of a close texture, and glossy as if made of satin, presenting
a lovely appearance when the bird runs about in the sunbeams.
The specific name, Holosericeus, is composed of two Greek words
signifying all silken, and is very appropriate to the species. The
female is not in the least like the male, her plumage being almost
uniform olive-green, and the young male is colored in a similar
manner.

Another species of Bower Bird inhabits New South Wales,
and, on account of its variegated plumage, is called the Spotted
Bower Bird (Chlamydera maculata).

The bower which is built by this bird is of very great compar-
ative size, being sometimes a full yard in length, and the arches
higher than those of the previous species. Long grass is plenti-
fully interwoven among the twigs, and the decorations of stones,
shells, and feathers extend to a considerable distance from either

360 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

end of the bower. Mr. Gould mentions that the bird places the
heaviest stones so as to keep the twigs in their places, and that it
will even bring the skulls and bones of the small mammalia to
aid in the decoration of its bower.

These birds are allied to the common starling, and belong to
a small group of that family which have gained the name of
Glossy Starlings on account of their satin-like plumage.

The color of the Spotted Bower Bird is warm brown, profusely
spotted with buff, and upon the back of the neck there is a kind
of falling ruff or collar of long feathers which shine like spun
glass, and are of a lovely rose-pink color. The generic name
" Chlamydera" literally signifies " cloak-necked," and is given to
the bird on account of this peculiarity. The classical reader will
remember that the chlamys was a short cloak or scarf, that could
be thrown round the neck or over the shoulder at the conven-
ience of the wearer.

CHAPTER XVIII.

BUILDING INSECTS.

The Termite, or White Ant. — General Habits of the Insect. — African Termites
and their Homes. — Termites as Articles of Food. — Indian Termites. — Account
of their Proceedings. — American Termites. — Mr. Bates's Account of their Hab-
its.— European Termites. — Their Ravages in France and Spain. — M. de Quatre-
fages and his History of the Termites of Rochefort and La Rochelle. — The Eu-
menes and its mud-built Nest. — The Trypoxylon of South America. — The Pe-
lop.eus and its curious Nest. — The Mud-dauber Wasp. — Mr. Goss's Account
of its Habits. — The Melipona of America. — Mr. Stone's Wasp Nests and their
History. — Difference of Material. — The Foraging Ants of South America and
their various Species. — Nests and Habits of the Foraging Ants. — The Agricul-
tural Ant of Texas. — Dr. Lincecum's Accounts of its Habits.

We now pass to the many insects which may be classed among
the Builders. The reader will probably notice that several of the
true builders are omitted in this department, but will find them
under the head of Social Insects.

Of the Building insects, the Termite, or White Ant, as it is
popularly and wrongly called, is the acknowledged head and chief.
There are certain other insects which erect habitations which are
truly wonderful, but there is not one that approaches the Ter-
mite in the size of its building or the stone-like solidity of the
structure.

NESTS OF TERMITE, AFRICA.

THE TERMITE, OR WHITE ANT. 363

If the reader will refer to the large illustration, he will see that
the Termite of Southern Africa can erect nests of very great size.
Three of these structures are shown, and a human being has been
introduced by one of them in order to show their average height.

The history of the Termites is so complicated, and so full of in-
cident, that I might occupy several hundred pages of this work in
describing them and their nests, and yet not have exhausted the
subject. I shall therefore give a general sketch of the Termites
and their habits, and then relate a few details concerning the spe-
cies which are found in Africa, Asia, America, and Europe.

In the first place, the reader must understand that the Termite
is not an ant at all, but belongs to a totally different order of in-
sect, and is allied to the dragon-flies, the ant-lions, the May-flies,
and the beautiful Lace-wing flies.

The Termites are social, and, like other social insects, are di-
vided into several grades, such as workers, males, and females, the
two latter of which are winged when they reach maturity. The
body is oblong and fiat, the antennae short, and the mandibles flat-
tened and toothed, and in most cases extremely long and formida-
ble. Each colony is founded by a single pair, popularly called
the king and queen, and the rest of the population consists of de-
veloped males and females, which are intended to perpetuate the
species and found fresh colonies, and of undeveloped individuals,
or neuters, of both sexes. The neuter males are termed soldiers,
and are armed with powerful jaws proceeding from enormous
heads, and the neuter females are termed workers, and are very
small.

There are now before me some specimens of African Termites,
the soldiers of which are five or six times as large as1 the workers.
They are formidable creatures, but they can do little harm beyond
inflicting a severe bite, as they are not furnished with stings nor
even with poison glands. They can bite through the clothes of
a European, and when they swarm upon the bare limbs of the
Negro they inflict almost unbearable tortures. The chief duty
of the soldier seems to be the defense of the nest; for, whenever
the walls are broken down, the soldiers come trooping out to at-
tack the invader, and, being quite unconscious of fear, they will
seize on the first strange object that happens to come in their
way. There are comparatively few soldiers, their proportion to
the workers being only one per cent.

When a pair of developed Termites have settled themselves to

364 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

form a colony, they share the fate of certain Oriental potentates,
and never move out of their royal cell. When the queen is fair-
ly settled, she increases in size so rapidly, that, even if she were
set at liberty, she could not crawl an inch. While the head, tho-
rax, and legs retain their original dimensions, the abdomen swells
until it is more than two inches long and about three quarters of
an inch in width. Thus developed, she produces eggs by the
thousand, which are immediately carried off by the workers, who
have reserved certain apertures in the royal apartment through
which they can easily pass. When the eggs are hatched, the
young are carefully watched and tended until they are at last de-
veloped into males, females, or neuters, and themselves are able
to take part in the manual work.

A full-sized nest of the African Termite is a wonderful struc-
ture. Although made merely of clay, the walls are nearly as hard
as stone, and quite as hard as the brick of which villa residences
are usually built. The form of the nest is essentially conical, a
large cone occupying the centre, and smaller cones being grouped
round it, like pinnacles round a Gothic spire.

In Andersson's valuable work, "Lake Ngami," there are many
detached accounts of the African Termite. He states that he has
seen nests which were full twenty feet in height, and had a cir-
cumference of a hundred feet, and that when the insects were de-
veloped and obtained their wings, they issued forth in such hosts
that the air seemed as if it were filled with dense and white snow-
flakes. So strong is the instinct for rushing into the air, that they
can scarcely be retained within the nest, and will even pass
through fire in order to gain their end.

The nests are always interesting objects, even from the exterior.
The walls are so hard that hunters are accustomed to mount upon
them for the purpose of looking out for game, and the wild buffalo
has a similar habit, the structure being strong enough even to
support the weight of so large an animal. The daily labors of
the architects can easily be traced, on account of the dampness of
the recent clay, so that an approximation can be formed as to the
length of time which is occupied in erecting one of the nests. The
traveler is always glad to see a large Termite nest, because he is
nearly sure to find the surface studded with mushrooms, which
are larger and better flavored than those which our fields pro-
duce.

The natives have another motive for looking after the Termite

THE TERMITE, OR WHITE ANT. 365

nests, because they eat the inmates, considering them to be a pe-
culiar luxury. The same author whom I have already mentioned
describes a curious interview that he had with Palani, a Bayeiye
chief. Wishing to show the chief the superiority of European
cookery, Mr. Andersson spread some apricot jam on bread, and
offered it to him. The chief took it, and expressed himself much
pleased with it, but asserted that Termites were much superior in
flavor. In order to catch the Termites in sufficient numbers, the
native makes a hole in the nest, and when the workers are con-
gregated for the purpose of repairing the breach, he sweeps them
into a vessel, and repeats the operation until he has obtained as
many as he wants.

As is the case with the true ants, the Termites only retain their
wings for a limited period, using them for the purpose of escap-
ing from the nest, and snapping them off as soon as they have
met with a partner. The manner in which the wings are fixed
to the body is the same in both groups of insects, and these sin-
gular organs are shed by being bent sharply forward. If a living
Termite be caught, and its wings pressed forward with a pin, they
will instantly snap off; but if bent backward, a piece of the body
will be torn away before the wings can be removed.

A correspondent of the Field newspaper gives a very interest-
ing account of the proceedings of the Termites living in India.
After mentioning the peculiar shedding of the wings, he writes as
follows :

" The career of the winged white ant, as far as I have had an
opportunity of judging, is as follows: Soon after the commence*
ment of the first shower which ushers in the rainy season in India,
swarms of winged white ants are to be seen issuing from small
holes in the earth, in old mud or sunburnt brick walls, and from
places of a similar character, in which the original nests may have
been located whence these swarms are thrown off. These legions
at once attract the attention of all the insectivorous and omnivor-
ous birds in the neighborhood, and the minahs, crows, and spar-
rows are on the alert to feast to satiety on the defenseless ants.

"Judging from the appearance of the wings of these ants as
they emerge from their earth-home, I should be disposed to think
that they do not develop their wings until the dampness of the
atmosphere warns them to prepare for action. There is a new,
smooth, and glossy appearance about them, not unlike the wings
of a young wasp, or the shine of a new hat. The ants vary much

366 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

in size at this period of their existence ; in good damp seasons,
and perhaps in favorable localities, thej have a well-fed, plump
appearance, whereas under unfavorable circumstances thej pre-
sent a slender and measly complexion. Thej crawl to the mouth
of the hole in the first instance, and at once take wing. The males
and females take no particular notice of each other until thej have
made their preliminary flight, which is but short ; thej soon alight
on the ground, or on the dinner-table, as the case maj be, making
direct for a light if their flight is after dark.

" As soon as thej obtain a footing after their descent from their
aerial expedition, both males and females commence to run a most
headlong and reckless career. Nothing appears to arrest their
progress. The female, who is larger and more full in figure than
the male, is also slower in her movements. She stops from time
to time, and performs slow and singular contortions with the hind-
er portion of her bodj. I can't help thinking that she gives out
some peculiar odor at these times — at all events, the males are
sensible of the scent of the females, and if thej, in their more rapid
quartering of the ground, pass over the track of a female, their
excitement and activity is redoubled, and thej take up the run-
ning with singular pertinacity.

" Up to this point both male and female ant retain their wings,
and it is as difficult to deprive them of these members as it is to
pull the wings from a house-flj. No sooner, however, does the
male ant overtake the female, than he makes a dash at the but-
too-willing flirt, and seizes (gently, I presume) the extreme end
of her plump figure with his jaws. This is the signal to the fe-
male that she no longer requires her wings, and at once, with a
jerk, both male and female throw from them these now useless en-
cumbrances. Awaj thej go, madam towing mj lord, who never
quits his hold, but clings to the skirts of his ladj-love in a most
gallant manner. Thej race over stock and stone, over garden
walk, veranda, or dinner-table, as the case maj be, until thej joint-
ly fall victims to the ever-watchful birds, beasts, or fishes, who are
all on the qui vive for the dainty morsel.

" Should they escape all their numerous enemies, and not suc-
ceed in being swept from the table by the ever-watchful kitmut-
gar, the female soon selects for her home, in which to spend the
honeymoon of her existence, some spot which seems adapted for
the end which she has in view. If she is a prudent, cautious
dame, she picks out some soft nodule of earth moistened by the

THE TERMITE, OR WHITE ANT. 367

recent rain, and having done so, she communicates to her lord and
follower by some means, which to me are inscrutable, that she
thinks the lodgings will do.

" The worthy gentleman at once casts off the tow-line, and he
and the lady of his affections buckle to without loss of time,
and excavate a home for the comfortable reception of the lady.
White ants are put to sad shifts at these times. Any dark nook
brings them to a halt, and the lee-side of a plate, tray, or the shady
side of a candlestick is often selected by the confiding female. In
all her arrangements the male appears to acquiesce without de-
mur.

" Yanity and vexation are the natural results of such ill-con-
sidered domestic arrangements, and the expiring couple, exhaust-
ed with their endeavors to make an earthen nest out of a bamboo
tray and a cotton table-cloth, are scattered to the winds by the
first servant who may be pleased to screw up energy sufficient to
remove the debris of the evening meal, to make way for roaster's
breakfast next day. Of the subsequent career of the happy couple
it is out of my power to speak, never having had an opportunity
of carefully watching their movements."

As to the Termites ©f Southern America, much information
may be obtained from Mr. Bates's valuable work on the natural
history of the Amazons. As many of his remarks simply prove
the identity of habits between the Termites of the Old World and
those of the New, I shall say nothing about them, but merely
give a brief extract of his observations.

As with the species which have already been described, the
soldiers are the only individuals that fight. When, therefore, the
ant-bear tears down the walls of the nest and begins to lick up
the inmates, none but the soldiers are killed, they having come
out to fight the enemy, while the workers have all run away and
hidden themselves underground. In consequence, of this fact, the
economy of the nest is but slightly disturbed, and after the ant-
bear has gone away, the workers begin to raise their walls afresh.

It must be remembered that the nests of the Termite are not
confined to the surface, but extend to a considerable distance in
the earth, the subterranean galleries being proportionately large
to the superimposed nest. Indeed, the greater part of the mate-
rial with which the walls and galleries are built is brought from
below and carried upward through the nest itself. There is no

368 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

visible outlet to a Termite's nest, because the insects construct
long galleries through which they can pass without suffering in-
convenience from the light of day. Both the workers and sol-
diers are blind ; but, in spite of the absence of external visual or-
gans, they are very sensitive to light, and avoid it in every possi-
ble way.

The food of the Termite is of a vegetable character, and consists
mostly of wooden fibres. Tbey will, however, eat through almost
any thing, and the traveler in hot climates finds them among his
worst troubles. They will cut to pieces the mat on which a man
is lying. They will eat nearly all the wood of his strong-box,
leaving a mere shell no thicker than the paper on which this
account is printed. They will devour all his collection of plants,
beasts, birds, and insects; and a table or any other article of fur-
niture, if left too long in one position, will be utterly ruined by
the Termites, which have a fashion of eating away all the interior,
but leaving just a thin shell, which looks as if nothing were the
matter.

Extirpating them is a difficult task. It is true that, if the mats,
clothes, and other household goods are washed with a solution of
corrosive sublimate, the Termites will not touch them ; but as the
articles which can be thus protected are* necessarily few in num-
ber, the best method is to extirpate them. This can only be done
by going to the fountain-head and cutting off the supply. It is
useless to destroy the workers or soldiers, for they are replaced as
fast as killed ; but, if the queen be destroyed, the supply of eggs is
at once stopped, the subjects lose heart, and the colony dies off.

When the adult Termites leave their homes, they often fly in
such clouds that they fill the rooms, and even put out the lamps
by their numbers. As soon as they touch ground they shed their
wings, and then they begin to find how many enemies they have.
Of the myriad hosts that pour into the evening air, not one in
twenty thousand survives to found a new colony. They have
foes above, below, and on every side. The bats and goatsuckers
hold high festival on these evenings when the Termites are abroad,
and after the insects have cast their wings they are pursued by
ants, toads, spiders, and a host of other enemies.

"We will now pass to the European Termites, whose history is
elaborately given by M. de Quatrefages. Eochefort, Saintes, and
Tournay-Charente have for some years suffered from the ravages

THE TERMITE, OR WHITE ANT. 369

of the Termites, and now La Rochelle is invaded by these terrible
destroyers. In all probability they were imported by some ship,
taken ashore in the boxes into whieh they had penetrated, and
thence spread into the country around. Efforts are being made
toward the extirpation of these terrible insects, but nothing seems
as yet to have had any great effect. How serious are the damages
which they work may be seen from the following account by M.
de Quatrefages, in his " Rambles of a Naturalist," vol. ii., p. 346 :

"The Prefecture and a few neighboring houses are the principal
scene of the destructive ravages of the Termites, but here they
have taken complete possession of the premises. In the garden,
not a stake can be put into the- ground, and not a plank can be
left on the beds, without being attacked within twenty-four hours.
The fences put round the young trees are gnawed from the bot-
tom, while the trees themselves are gutted to the very branches.

"Within the building itself, the apartments and offices are alike
invaded. I saw upon the roof of a bedroom that had been re-
cently repaired, galleries made by the Termites which looked like
stalactites, and which had begun to show themselves the very day
after the workmen had left the place. In the cellars I discovered
similar galleries, which were within half-way between the ceiling
and the floor, or running along the walls and extending no doubt
up to the very garrets ; for on the principal staircase other gal-
leries were observed between the ground floor and the second
floor, passing under the plaster wherever it was sufficiently thick
for the purpose, and only coming to view at different points where
the stones were on the surface ; for, like other species, the Termites
of La Eochelle always work under cover, wherever it is possible
for them to do so.

"MM. Milne-Edwards and Blanchard have seen galleries which
descended without any extraneous support from the ceiling to the
floor of a cellar. M. Bobe-Moreau cites several curious instances
of this mode of construction. Thus, for instance, he saw isolated
galleries or arcades, which were thrown horizontally forward like
a tubular bridge, in order to reach a piece of paper that was wrap-
ped round a bottle, the contents of a pot of honey, etc.

" It is generally only by incessant vigilance that we can trace
the course of their devastations and prevent their ravages. At
the time of M. Audoin's visit a curious proof was accidentally
obtained of the mischief which this insect silently accomplishes.
One day it was discovered that the archives of the Department

Aa

370 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

were almost totally destroyed, and that without the slightest ex-
ternal trace of any damage. The Termites had reached the boxes
in which these documents were preserved by mining the wain-
scoting, and they had then leisurely set to work to devour these
administrative records, carefully respecting the upper sheets and
the margin of each leaf, so that a box which was only a mass of
rubbish seemed to contain a pile of papers in perfect order."

In the British Museum are several examples of the ravages
worked by Termites, one of which is an ordinary beam that has
been so completely hollowed and eaten away that nothing remains
but a mere shell no thicker than the wood of a bandbox.

Besides the species which were investigated by M. de Quatre-
fages, there are others in the south of France, and in Sardinia and
Spain. One species, Terrn.es Jiavicollis, chiefly attacks and destroys
the olives, while in the Landes and Gironde the oaks and firs are
killed by another species, Termes lucifugus.

As the limits of this work preclude a very lengthened account
of any one creature, our history of the Termites must here be con-
cluded, although much interesting matter remains unwritten.

In the accompanying illustration are shown two nests, the two
upper specimens on the right hand having been already described.
They are made by the little spider called Agelena brunnea, and
their history will be found on page 321.

The two lower nests are made by a species of solitary wasp,
which has no popular name, but is known to entomologists as
Eumenes coarctata. It is not a large insect, the females being
only half an inch in length, and the male rather smaller. The
general color is black, with a fine velvet-like pile on the abdo-
men, and relieved by lines and spots of yellow. The abdomen
is small, and set on a rather short and pear-shaped footstalk, as
may be seen by the illustration, which represents the insect of its
natural size.

This is one of the species which are tolerably common in cer-
tain localities, but, as they are very local, may be reckoned among
the varieties. Mr. F. Smith, in his " Catalogue of the British Ves-
pidas," mentions that it has been taken in several parts of Hamp-
shire, Berkshire, near Weybridge, and has been found plentifully
at Sunninghill. Probably the rarity or frequency of this species,
as is the case with many others, depends greatly on the eyes
which look after it.

AGELENA BRUJSTNEA — EUMENES COARCTATA.

371

This little wasp constructs small globular cells of mud, and
fastens them to the stems of various plants, the common heath
being the greatest favorite, so that heath-covered commons are
likely to afford specimens of the nest and its architect. Each
nest contains only a single cell, and is only intended to rear a
single occupant. The wasp is a very useful insect, as it provisions
its nest with the larvae of small lepidoptera, each Eumenes grub
requiring a tolerably large supply of caterpillars.

As is the case with so many insects, the Eumenes is greatly
subject to the attacks of parasites, which contrive to deposit their
eggs in the larvae in spite of the hard mud walls of the cell. Mr.
Smith mentions that he has had from the nest of the Eumenes
an ichneumon fly belonging to the genus Cryptus.

lis the following illustration are figured the nests of two in-
sects, both of them natives of tropical America, and both be-
longing to the hymenopterous order. The upper insect is known
to entomologists by the name of Trypoxylon aurifrons, but has at
present no popular name.

This insect makes a great number of earthen cells, shaped
something like those of the last-mentioned species, the cells being
remarkable for the form of the entrance, which is narrowed and
rounded as shown in the figure. In some cases the neck is so
very narrow in proportion to the size of the cell, and the rim is so

372

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

Trypoxylon and Pelopseua.

neatly turned over, that the observer is irresistibly reminded of
the neck of a glass bottle. The insect makes quite a number of
these nests, sometimes fastening them to branches, as shown in
the illustration, but as frequently fixing them to beams of houses.
It has a great fancy for the corners of verandas, and builds there-
in whole rows of cells, buzzing loudly the while, and attracting
attention by the noise which it makes.

The lower insect is the pretty Pelopceus fistularis, with its yel-
low and black banded body. Both the insects, as well as their
houses, are represented of the natural size.

The cell of the Pelopreus is larger than that of the preceding in-
sect, and occupies much more time in the construction, a week at
least being devoted to the task. She sets to work very methodi-
cally, taking a long time in kneading the clay, which she rolls
into little spherical pellets, and kneads for a minute or two before
she leaves the ground. She then flies away with her load, and
adds it to the nest, spreading the clay in a series of rings, like the
courses of bricks in a circular chimney, so that the edifice soon
assumes a rudely cylindrical form.

When she has nearly completed her task, she goes off in search
of creatures wherewith to stock the nest, and to serve as food for
the young, and selects about the most unpromising specimens that

THE PELOPAEUS FISTULARIS. 373

can be conceived. Like many other solitary hymenoptera, this
Pelopaeus stores her nest with spiders, and any one would sup-
pose that she would choose the softest and the plumpest kinds for
her young. It is found, however, that she acts precisely in the
opposite manner.

In tropical America there is a large group of spiders allied to
the common garden spider, but of the most extraordinary shapes
and colors. They all possess a hard, shelly covering, polished and
shining like that of many beetles, and glittering with bright and
radiant hues — blue, crimson, green, and purple being the colors
with which they are ordinarily decorated. Their fo-rms are, how-
ever, even more remarkable than their colors. Their hard and
shelly covering is not uniform and smooth, but shoots out into
the most extraordinary projections, giving to the creatures a wild
and fantastic gfotesqueness of aspect that surpasses even the
weird imaginings of Breughel, Cranagh, Callot, and other masters
of diablerie in art.

One genus has the abdomen formed in a drum shape, the sides
and extremity being covered with short, sharp, and stout spines.
Another has the abdomen modified into a ball-like shape, from
which radiate sharp spikes, like those of the well-known "cal-
throp ;" while in another genus certain enormous projections issue
from the abdomen, two being so large that in volume they exceed
the whole of the abdomen and body. In one species they are
thick, solid, and palmated, like the horns of the elk ; in another
they are slender, and curved like the horns of a bull ; and there
are other species quite as bizarre in form. It is from these crea-
tures, more especially from the first-mentioned, that the Pelopaeus
selects her victims, and it is evident that the jaws of the young
Pelopaeus must be exceedingly strong to be enabled to pierce
their hard and well-armed bodies. Like the previously-mention-
ed insect, the Pelopaeus makes a loud and cheerful buzzing while
engaged in her work of building.

Mr. Bates, who has described these two insects, has likewise
mentioned a builder insect of the same order, called Melipona fas-
ciculata. The genus to which this insect belongs is a very large
one, containing some forty-five species, some of which are very
common in woods, and being extremely small, measuring only
the twelfth of an inch in length, they are very annoying to the
traveler, getting into his nostrils, and worrying him in various

374 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

ways. Fortunately, they do not sting, but their bite is very sharp,
and if made on a sensitive surface like the lining membrane of
the nostril, can inflict very severe pain.

The form of habitation is various, according to the species, but
they all use clay for that purpose, kneading it with their mandi-
bles, and then passing it to the hind legs, and pressing it into
the hair-fringed depression which is popularly called the basket.
Some species are accustomed to employ any casual crevice as a
nest, stuffing it up with clay, and leaving only a little orifice
through which they can pass. Others, again, make long tubes of
clay, with trumpet-shaped mouths; and it is a remarkable fact,
that a number of the bees are always at the entrance as sentinels,
just as is the case with the hive-bee when wasps are abroad.

In the " Zoologist" for 1864, p. 582, is a very interesting de-
scription, by Mr. P. H. Gosse, of the proceedings of insects which
he appropriately calls the Dauber Wasps, and which belong to
the same genus as the Pelopseus mentioned above. One insect he
identifies as Pelopseus flavipes, and the other is probably Pelopce-
us spirifer. One of these insects is now before me, and a very
pretty creature it is. In shape it exactly resembles that which is
figured on page 372, but the colors are different. The general
hue is deep brown-black, very shining in the abdomen, and soft-
ened by thick down upon the thorax. It is, however, not a som-
bre insect, as the long footstalk of the abdomen is bright yellow,
and the limbs are banded with the same lively hue. I strongky
advise my readers to peruse this account, because it is full of de-
tail, and contains much useful information about the method of
working adopted by the insect, thus giving a clew to the proceed-
ings of other insects which build habitations of similar materi-
als. The length of the account is the reason why it can not be
transferred to these pages, and I must therefore give a short ab-
stract.

Having seen many patches of a yellow mud on the walls and
rafters, some as large as the closed fist and others of comparative-
ly small dimensions, he asked some boys what they were, and
was told that they were the nests of the Dirt-daubers. Finding
that, as the weather became warm, the insects began to build, he
set to work and watched them carefully. First he tried their sa-
gacity by boring holes in their cells, in order to see whether the
insects would fill them up, and afterward by inserting foreign

DAUBER WASPS. 375

substances, such as a tin-tack and a piece of worsted, into the cell.
The insect proved herself equal to the occasion, filled up the holes,
and pulled out both the tack and the worsted. The next point
was to watch a nest from its foundation, and to see how it was
built. The insect always went off, was absent for about a minute,
and then returned, bearing in her jaws a lump of clay larger than
her own head. The clay was perfectly plastic, and could be
spread at once. The method by which the cell is formed must
be eriven in the author's own words :

"About this time (August 18) the other species of Peloposus be-
gan to be busy fabricating their artful thimble-shaped nests.

" It is difficult to convey by words an idea of their mode of
working. The commencement of a cell was by laying down the
load and working it into an oval ridge, one extremity of which
was to be the apex of the thimble cell. The next load was laid
on the ridge, but so as to be higher at the apex than at any other
part, and made slightly concave. When the top was made, the
work proceeded regularly by additions to the edges, which were
smoothly laid on, and always in the same slanting direction that
had been given at first, by raising one end of the incipient oval,
so that an unfinished cell in any state of progress appears to be a
cylinder cut off by a diagonal section.

" This is not casual, but invariable, as the ridges remaining
plainly mark the precise limits of every load.

" When a little more in length is finished than suffices for a
single cell, the work ceases for a while, an egg is laid in the bot-
tom, though this end is generally uppermost, and spiders are
brought in. This species usually, not always, selects a very beau-
tiful species of Tetragnatha, bright green with white spots ; and
it is worth remarking that spiders are carried both with the jaws
and feet, one of the fore legs of the spider being grasped in the
mouth, while the body is held under that of the fly, and sustained
by the anterior and middle legs and feet, the posterior pair being
extended behind, as usual during flight.

" When the first cell is stocked, it is closed up by a transverse
partition of mud, and the thimble goes on increasing as before.
When finished, one will contain three or even four cells, and then
a new one is commenced, adjoining and parallel with it. In both
this and the other species, I believe that the inclosed grub eats
only the abdomen of the spiders (which are so stung as to be help-
less, but not dead), as the cephalothorax and legs of each may
generally be found afterward in the cell."

376 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

The same writer noticed a remarkable instance of ingenuity in
these insects. An empty ink-bottle, about an inch and a half in
length, lay on the table. The neck of this bottle was one day
seen to be stopped up with a substance like white pipe-clay, and
when this was broken, the bottle was found to be stored with spi-
ders. The fact was, that a Pelopeeus had spied out the bottle, and
thought that she had a fine opportunity of providing a home for
her young without troubling herself to build a regular nest. A
day or two afterward, the Dauber returned to see after the nest,
and finding that it had been disturbed, she entered the bottle,
took out all the spiders, replaced them with fresh specimens, and
then reclosed the mouth. It is evident from this fact that the in-
sect does not entirely abandon her young when she has completed
and closed the nest.

Another curious discovery was also made while watching the
Pelopasus. If the reader will refer to the illustration, he will see
that the abdomen of the insect is supported on a very long and
slender peduncle, or footstalk. Mr. Gosse was naturally anxious
to discover how the insect could draw the abdomen out of the
pupal skin when it came to change into its perfect condition. On
examining some specimens, he discovered the curious fact that
the pupal envelope did not sit closely to the body, but that it was
as wide in the middle as at either end, so that when the insect
came to assume its perfect form, the peduncle was quite loose in
the centre of the envelope, and the abdomen could be drawn out
without any difficulty.

These observations are peculiarly valuable, because they set at
rest a question which was raised by several entomologists, who
thought that the nests were made by some species of Eumenes,
and that the Pelopaeus was a mere parasite upon them, like the
Cryptus, and many other of the Ichneumonidae.

If the reader will refer to the large engraving, entitled " Mr.
Stone's Wasp Nests," he will see a representation of four square
boxes, each containing an object which would hardly be taken
for a wasp's nest at a little distance. Such, however, is the case ;
and these boxes are four selected examples out of a series of six
which were built in Mr. Stone's house, and presented by him to
the British Museum. The story of these nests is very remarka-
ble, and shows how much we have to learn concerning the habits
and instincts of insects.

WASP NESTS. 379

In the month of August, 1862, a nest of the common wasp
(Vespa germanica) was taken near Brighthampton, and handed
over to Mr. Stone, who has long been in the habit of experiment-
ing upon these insects. One extraordinary nest which was built
by wasps under his auspices has already been mentioned on page
276.

The nest was very much damaged by carriage, and Mr. Stone
took it entirely to pieces, placing one or two small combs inside a
square wooden box with a glass front, and supporting them by a
wire which passed through the combs to the roof of the box. He
then fixed the box in a window, so as to allow the insects free in-
gress and egress through a hole in the back.

About three hundred of the workers were then collected,
placed in the box, and well supplied with sugar and beer. They
immediately began to work, and their first object was to cover
the combs with paper. They worked with great rapidity, and
in two days had formed a flask-shaped nest, having covered both
the combs and the wire, besides plastering large sheets of paper
over the sides of the box. They did not attempt to build upon
the glass front, because it was frequently moved in order to in-
troduce a supply of sugar. This nest is represented at Fig. 4 in
the illustration, and one of the wasps is introduced, in order to
show the comparative dimensions of the nest and its architects.

As the wasps were building at such a rate, it was evident that
they would shortly fill the whole box with a shapeless mass of
paper. Another similar box was therefore prepared, and the
wasps ejected by tapping the box which was already completed.
As soon as they were all out, the second box was substituted for
the first, and the wasps crowded eagerly into it, and again began
their labors. In this box they were allowed to remain for a week,
and the result was as seen in Fig. 3. The wasps were now trans-
ferred to a third box, in which they labored for four days, and
produced a nest somewhat similar to the others, but not quite so
symmetrical.

At this time Mr. Stone fitted up another box with two rows
of wire pillars, eight in number, placed with tolerable regularity
about two inches apart, and having a, piece of comb at the base
and summit of each. In this box the wasps remained for fifteen
days, and in that time had covered all the wires and most of the
combs, and had nearly filled the box with paper.

In order that a more symmetrical structure might be produced,

380 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

a fifth box was fitted up with wires arranged in a different man-
ner. Four wires were placed across the box, rather in advance
of the middle, and two others in front of them. To all these
wires a piece of comb was fixed at the base and summit, but be-
tween the two central pillars a short wire was placed, having a
piece of comb at its summit only. The wasps were transferred
to this box, and in the short space of five days they covered all
the combs and wires, and produced the extraordinary structure
which is shown in Fig. 1, and which looks like a paper imitation
of a stalactitic cavern. The insects were ejected from this nest
before they had finished their work, and, in consequence, a por-
tion of the comb on the small central pillar is still left uncov-
ered.

As this box had been so successful, another was prepared on
the same principle, and the wasps were permitted to reside in it
for the same number of days, in which time they produced an
equally beautiful but rather more massive nest. This specimen
is shown at Fig. 2 of the illustration. In hopes that the wasps
might make a still more splendid nest, a much larger box was
fitted up, and the insects transferred to it. As by this time the
autumn was closing in, and the weather became cold, the wasps
could do but little work, and in a short time they died.

Thus, in the wonderfully short space of thirty-eight days, six
elaborate and beautiful nests had been made by a single brood of
wasps, and it is probable that if the original nest had been taken
at an earlier period of the year, they would have made a still
larger number. However, such a feat as they did perform ought
to make us look upon the wasp with a more indulgent eye ; and,
although it can not supply us with honey, as does the bee, it can
certainly rival that useful insect in industry.

On looking at this beautiful series of nests, the observer can
not but admire the manner in which the instinct of these crea-
tures is made subservient to human reason. This instinct teaches
them to cover all their combs with a thick mass of paper, the
reason being, although they may not know it, that a certain uni-
formity of temperature is needed for the well-being of the eggs
and young. If, therefore, combs are placed conveniently for the
insects, they will assuredly cover them according to their instincts,
and will as surely take advantage of wires or any other supports
to which they can attach the fragile substance of which the nest
is made.

WASP NESTS. 381

' Mr. Stone has made other experiments upon wasps, and has
kindly sent me the following account of his proceedings :

"I have a beautiful series of their nests of this season's produc-
tion (1864), from specimens which are the work of two or three
hours, to those which have occupied as many months.

"But my working communities in a semi-domesticated state
within the house have for the last few weeks been going the
wrong way. Earlier in the season I had as many as ten colonies
of various species at work in the different windows of the house
which I have for some years used for the purpose, all of which
went on satisfactorily for some time, but the sugar with which
they were fed at length attracted a vast number of strangers,
which crowded into the various boxes, and at first impeded, and
ultimately put an end to the work. Before this event happened,
one extraordinary nest had become advanced as far as I wished ;
and a second, which was still more extraordinary, almost as far
as I desired. The facts connected with these nests are as follows :

"I had a working community of Vespa germanica in the left-
hand corner of a window on th,e ground floor, and another in the
right-hand corner. When these nests had increased in size to
four or five inches in diameter, I chloroformed the insects, re-
moved the shell or covering of each nest from the combs, putting
aside the coverings for specimens. In order to remove the combs,
I had to cut out a piece from the outside, and when this was neat-
ly united again, the empty shells had all the appearance of perfect
nests, with this advantage, that they contained nothing which re-
quired drying in an oven in order to prevent decomposition, which
must have been done had the combs, with their complement of
grubs, etc., been allowed to remain in the nests. This plan I al-
ways adopt when it is practicable. I then returned the combs to
the boxes from which they were respectively taken, and intro-
duced the workers, still in a comatose state from the effects of the
chloroform. As soon as they recovered from their stupor, they
set to work at constructing fresh coverings.

"I now brought home a nest of Vespa vulgaris, with its inmates.
This was placed for work in a box in the left-hand corner of a
room immediately over the one just mentioned. Soon after this,
I perceived that the newly-formed covering to the nest of the V.
germanica in the left-hand corner of the window below was begin-
ning to assume a variety of curious coloring. On clipping away
the covering when it became sufficiently advanced for another

382 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

specimen, I found that numbers of workers from the nest of V.
vulgaris, situated in the window above, had actually joined them-
selves to this nest, and had been working with its original inmates.

" Not only had they been working in concert with them, but
they had been depositing eggs in the cells, as is proved by the
fact that numbers of young specimens of V. vulgaris were after-
ward bred from the combs contained in the nest of V. germanica.
I do not know whether you are aware that worker wasps have
the power of producing fertile eggs without contact with the
other sex, yet such I have proved over and over, again to be the
case.

"Well, having again, as above stated, removed the covering
from this nest, I took away the lower comb and reduced the nest
somewhat in size, placing them in a box thirteen inches in length,
and arranged in such a way that the workers should necessarily
produce a vase, or rather a goblet-shaped nest. This they did,
and a splendid object it is, being, as before, the joint work of two
species of wasps, the one, V. vulgaris, using, as it invariably does,
decayed wood (such as is commonly called touchwood), and the
other, V. germanica, using sound wood, or sound vegetable fibre of
some kind, in the fabrication of its paper. Thus they gave to the
coverings of both these nests an extraordinary beauty, from the
variety and charming distribution of the colors with which they
were enriched.

"As none of the workers from the nest of V. vulgaris were ever
found to attach themselves to the nest of V. germanica, which was
situated in a similar corner of the window below, I conclude that
they made 'no mistake as to the corner of the window in which
their nest was situated, but miscalculated the height of the win-
dow. As they entered the strange nest with food and building
material, they were not molested, but allowed to join peaceably in
the work of the nest.

"Widely different would have been the case had they entered
it for the purpose of pillage ; for, though wasps will not interfere
with strange individuals of the same species, even when they
come with thievish intentions, they instantly seize all individuals
of a different species if their intentions appear suspicious.

"I have since met with another instance of the kind.

"Two nests were situated almost close together, in a drain at
Colethorpe Park, one belonging to V. vulgaris, and the other hav-
ing been originally the property of V. germanica. It would, how-

"WASP NESTS — FORAGING ANTS. 383

ever, appear that, at an early period in the season, workers from
the former nest had attached themselves to the latter, their num-
bers increasing as the season advanced. Judging from the ap-
pearance of the nest, and from the amount of work done by each
species, it was easy to see that, at the end of August, when I dug-
it out, the number of individuals of each species was almost equal.
There is no possibility of mistaking the work of one species for
that of the other, and the distinction is apparent at a glance.

"Apart from the interest attached to nests of this description,
no examples of which had been, as far as I am aware, obtained by
any naturalist, their beauty of coloring is so remarkable as to ren-
der them objects of general admiration. If, too, as I apprehend
must have been the case, the workers belonging to the colony of
Y. vulgaris mistook their neighbors' house for their own, the en-
trances being so near together, it is rather extraordinary that
those belonging to the other species should not have made a sim-
ilar mistake. They appeared, however, not to have done so, or
if they did, the mistake must have been rectified as often as it
occurred, for no work of theirs was to be found in the nest of V.
vulgaris."

Before closing the history of the wasps, I may mention that the
two species, Vespa germanica and Yespa vulgaris, are so similar to
each other in shape and color that an unpracticed eye can not
readily discern the distinction between them. Specimens of both
these wasps are now before me, and when placed side by side the
difference is clearly evident. The yellow color predominates in
the former insect, and the dark bands of the abdomen are much
narrower. In the female Yespa germanica there are three black
spots on the basal margin of the first segment of the abdomen.

In Mr. Bates's valuable work on the natural history of the
Amazons, there is an interesting account of the proceedings of
certain ants belonging to the genus Eciton, and which are popu-
larly massed together under the name of Foraging Ants. These
insects have often been confounded with the Saiiba or parasol ant,
which has already been described, although they belong to differ-
ent groups and have different habits. The native name for them
is Tauoca. There are many species belonging to this genus, and
I shall therefore restrict myself to those which seem to have the
most interesting habits, giving at the same time a general sketch
of their character. I regret that, as in so many other cases, th£

384

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

lack of popular names forces me to employ the scientific titles by
which the insects are known to naturalists.

Although in the Ecitons there are the three classes of males,
females, and neuters, these neuters are not divided into two dis-
tinct sets as in the termites, but are found in regular gradations
of size. The real Foraging Ant is Eciton drepanophora, and it is
this insect which is so annoying and so useful to house-builders.
The ants sally forth in vast columns, at least a hundred yards in
length, though not of very great width. On the outside of the
column are the officers, which are continually running backward
and forward, as if to see that their own portions of the column
are proceeding rightly. The proportion of officers to workers is
about five per cent., or one officer to twenty workers, and they
are extremely conspicuous on the march, their great white heads
nodding up and down as they run along.

One of the large workers is now before me, and a most formi-
dable insect it looks. Its head is round, smooth, and very large,
and is armed with a pair of enormous forceps, curved almost as
sharply as the horns of the chamois, and very sharp at the points.
Their length is so great that, if straightened and placed end to
end, they would be longer than the head and body together.
They are beset with minute hairs, which, when viewed under the

FORAGING ANTS. 385

microscope, are seen to be stiff bristles, arranged in regular rings
round the mandibles. The thorax and abdomen are but slender ;
the limbs are long, giving evidence of great activity. In the
dried specimen, the color of the insect is yellowish-brown, becom-
ing paler on the head ; but when the creature is alive, the head is
nearly white. The eyes are very minute, looking like little round
dots on the side of the head, and being so extremely small that
they can scarcely be perceived without the aid of a magnifying-
glass. The half-inch power of the microscope shows that they
are oval and convex, but as they are set in little pits or depres-
sions, they do not project beyond the head. The hexagonal com-
pound lenses, which are generally found in insects, are not visible,
and the eye bears a great resemblance to that of the spider.

The difference in dimensions of the workers is very remarka-
ble. The specimen which I have just described measures a little
under half an inch in length, exclusive of the limbs, while another
specimen is barely half that length, and in general appearance
much resembles the familiar ant, or emmet of our gardens.

The presence of these insects may be always known by the
numbers of pittas, or ant-thrushes, which feed much upon them,
and which are sure to accompany a column of Foraging Ants on
the march. The ant-thrushes are odd, short-tailed birds, with
stout bodies, and a remarkably long hind claw. Some of this
species are decorated with colors of wonderful brilliancy, glitter-
ing with blue, green, copper-red, and purple, and having a pecul-
iar silken gloss. Others are soberly clad in simple brown and
white, and such are the birds which usually accompany the For-
aging Ants on their march.

As soon as the experienced inhabitants of tropical America see
the ant-thrushes, they rejoice in the coming deliverance, and wel-
come the approaching army. The fact is, that in those countries
insect life swarms as luxuriously as the vegetation, and there are
many insects which, however useful in their own place, are apt
to get into houses, and there multiply to such an extent that they
become a real plague, and nearly drive the inhabitants out of
their own homes. They are bad enough by day, but at night
they issue from the nooks and crevices where they lay concealed,
and make their presence too painfully known.

There are insects that bite, and insects that suck, and insects
that scratch, and insects that sting, and many are remarkable for
giving out a most horrible odor. Some of them are'cased in ar-

Bb

386 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

mor as hard as crab-shells, and will endure almost any amount
of violence, while some are as round, as plump, as thin-skinned,
and as juicy as over-ripe gooseberries, and collapse almost with a
touch. There are great flying insects which always make for the
light, and, unless it is defended by glass, will either put it out, or
will singe their wings and spin about on the table in a manner
that is by no means agreeable. The smaller insects get into the
inkstand and fill it with their tiny carcasses, while others run
over the paper and smear every letter as it is made. There are
great centipedes, which are legitimate cause of dread, being armed
with poison-fangs scarcely less venomous than those of the viper.
There are always plenty of scorpions ; while the chief army is
composed of cockroaches, of dimensions, appetite, and odor such
as we can hardly conceive in this favored land. As to the liz-
ards, snakes, and other reptiles, they are so common as almost to
escape attention.

For a time these usurpers reign supreme. Now and then a
few dozen are destroyed in a raid, or a person of sanguine tem-
perament amuses his leisure hours and improves his marksman-
ship by picking off the more prominent intruders with a saloon
pistol; but the vacancies are soon filled up, and no permanent
benefit is obtained. But when the Foraging Ants make their
appearance, the case is altered, for there is nothing that with-
stands their assault. As soon as the pittas are seen approaching,
the inhabitants throw open every box and drawer in the house,
so as to allow the ants access into every crevice, and then retire
from the premises.

Presently the vanguard of the column approaches, a few scouts
precede the general body, and seem to inspect the premises, and
ascertain whether they are worth a search. The long column
then pours in, and is soon dispersed over the house. The scene
that then ensues is described as most singular. The ants pene-
trate into the corners, peer into each crevice, and speedily haul
out any unfortunate creature that is lurking therein. Great
cockroaches are dragged unwillingly away, being pulled in front
by four or five ants, and pushed from behind by as many more.
The rats and mice speedily succumb to the onslaught of their
myriad foes, the snakes and lizards fare no better, and even the
formidable weapons of the scorpion and centipede are overcome
by their pertinacious foes.

In a wonderfully short time the Foraging Ants have completed

FORAGING ANTS. 387

their work, the scene of turmoil gradually ceases, the scattered
parties again form into line, and the procession moves out of the
house, carrying its spoils in triumph. The raid is most complete;
and when the inhabitants return to the house, they find every in-
truder gone, and, to their great comfort, are enabled to move
about without treading on some unpleasant creature, and to put
on their shoes without previously knocking them against the
floor for the purpose of shaking out the scorpions and similar
visitors.

In the illustration a column of Foraging Ants is seen winding
its way through a wood. Every one who is accustomed to the
country .takes particular care not to cross one of these columns.
The Foraging Ants are tetchy creatures, and, not having the least
notion of fear, are terrible enemies even to human beings. If a
man should happen to cross a column, the ants immediately dash
at him, running up his legs, biting fiercely with their powerful
jaws, and injecting poison into the wound. The only plan of
action in such a case is to run away at top speed until the main
body are too far off to renew the attack, and then to destroy the
ants that are already in action. This is no easy task, for the
fierce little insects drive their hooked mandibles so deeply into
the flesh that they are generally removed piecemeal, the head re-
taining its hold after the body has been pulled away, and the
mandibles clasped so tightly that they must be pinched from the
head and detached separately.

There seems to be scarcely a creature that these insects will
not attack, and they will even go out of their way to fall upon
the nests of the large and formidable wasps of that country. For
the thousand stings the ants care not a jot, but tear away the sub-
stance of their nest with their powerful jaws, penetrate into the
interior, break down the cells, and drag out the helpless young.
Should they meet an adult wasp, they fall upon it, and cut it to
pieces in a moment.

Another species, Ecilon prce.da.ior, does not form long and nar-
row columns, but marches in a broad and solid phalanx. It is
but a little creature, no bigger than the common red ant of En-
gland. It is, however, of a brighter red color, and when a phal-
anx of these ants ascends a tree, the vast multitudes spread over
all the trunk and branches in such numbers that the tree looks
as if a blood-red liquid was being poured over it.

There is another Foras-ins; Ant which forms in broad columns

388 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

when on the march. This is Eciton legionis, a species which is
not so common as either of the preceding, and appears only to be
seen on the wide sand-plains of Santarem.

These insects sometimes attack the nest of one of the large bur-
rowing ants. Mr. Bates mentions that on one occasion he watched
a large army of Foragers begin their attack upon the nest of an
ant, some specimens of which he desired to procure. The Fora-
gers set to work with wonderful skill, arranging themselves into
two distinct sets of laborers, one set digging into the ground and
taking out large pellets of earth, and the other set receiving them
from their comrades and carrying them away.

While watching the proceedings of the soldiers when repairing
the Thames river- wall after the terrible explosion near Belvedere,
I was strongly reminded of the Foraging Ants and their method
of working. The parallel was exact in every respect. The offi-
cers stood here and there and directed the efforts of their men,
while the workers were arranged in regular lines, one set of men
digging out the clods of earth, and a second set receiving them
and handing them to the spot where they were wanted. I could
but fancy that if an observer had been poised at some height
above the beach in a balloon, and watched the soldiers at work,
and had previously seen an army of Ecitons engaged in sinking
a shaft, he would have seen the insects and their labors precisely
reproduced in the human beings, art having at last discovered a
process which was in full operation before man knew how to
handle a weapon or a tool.

After Mr. Bates had watched the proceedings of the ants for
some time, he took a trowel and opened the ground with it. The
clever insects at once took advantage of this aid, and dashed into
the breach by thousands, pouncing on the luckless inhabitants
and carrying them off in their jaws. So bold and so quick were
they, that Mr. Bates could scarcely manage to secure a single
specimen ; and even when he had caught an ant, the Foragers
would pull it out of his fingers.

The same observer has known them to sink their shafts to a
depth of ten inches, invariably succeeding in their raid upon the
nest. The materials of which the nest is made they pull to
pieces, and carry the fragments home, together with the inmates.
When the nest is completely sacked, the invaders move out in
small lines, which march to join the main body, and soon unite
with it. The discipline of the community is really wonderful.

FORAGING ANTS. 389

* Each insect knows its own place and its own work, and so per-
fect is the organization, that during the busy season the long
train resolves itself into two distinct columns, one going out to.
search for food, and the other returning home laden with spoil.

Another species, Eciton rapax, is also in the habit of attacking
the nest of various ants. In habits it is very similar to the pre-
ceding insect, and is chiefly remarkable for being the largest of
all the Ecitons, the average length being half an inch.

The last species of Eciton which I shall mention is that won-
derful species which is called the Blind Ant {Eciton erratica).

I have already mentioned that in Eciton drepanophora the eyes
are very small, but in the Blind Ant they are absolutely wanting,
the horny covering of the head being quite uniform, without the
least trace of external eyes. Some naturalists have thought that
the Blind Ant may possess organs of vision, and that the horn}r
covering of the head is sufficiently transparent to admit the light.
That the insects can distinguish light from darkness is perfectly
true, for they display the greatest uneasiness when brought into
the light, and therefore it is possible that the optic nerves may be
in some degree affected, though there are no external organs of
vision. But the covering of the head is certainly too thick and
too opaque to permit distinct vision, and that the insect can see
an object clearly is manifestly impossible.

These insects are wonderful builders, and bear a great resem-
blance to the termites in many of their proceedings. The reader
will remember that the termites always choose to work under cov-
er, and proceed from one place to another by means of galleries,
which they construct with great rapidity. The Blind Ant acts in
a precisely similar manner, constructing long galleries through
which it travels. These galleries are of small dimensions, though
their length is almost unlimited, and they are made in a very
flimsy manner, without the use of any cement. If the observer
wishes to capture any of the large-headed officers, he can easily
do so by breaking down any part of the gallery. As soon as the
unwelcome light streams in, the soldiers are seen to come slowly
out, moving their great heads from side to side, and opening their
powerful jaws with silent menace. If they are not farther dis-
turbed, they will retire into the gallery, and the breach is soon
mended by the workers.

These galleries can not be called tunnels, because they are built
upon the surface of the earth, and do not penetrate below it, and

390 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

ought, perhaps, to be called " covered ways" rather than galler-

ies.

I have intentionally reserved the last place among the builders
for an insect which is certainly the most wonderful of them all ;
not only raising an edifice, but clearing a space around, and pre-
paring it for a garden. This insect is called by Dr. Lincecum,
the discoverer of its habits, the Agricultural Ant, and its sci-
entific name is Atta malefaciens. As the reader will perceive, it is
allied to the parasol ant, which has been already described.

This remarkable insect is a native of Texas, and, until a few
years ago, its singular habits were unknown. Dr. Lincecum, how-
ever, wrote a long and detailed account to Mr. Darwin, who made
an abstract of it, and read the paper before the Linnasan Society,
April 18th, 1861. This abstract may be found in the Journal of
that Society, and is as follows :

" The species which I have named ' Agricultural' is a large
brownish ant. It dwells in what may be termed paved cities,
and, like a thrifty, diligent, provident farmer, makes suitable and
timely arrangements for the changing seasons. It is, in short,
endowed with skill, ingenuity, and untiring patience, sufficient to
enable it. successfully to contend with the varying exigencies
which it may have to encounter in the life-conflict.

" When it has selected a situation for its habitation, if on ordi-
nary dry ground, it bores a hole, around which it raises the sur-
face three and sometimes six inches, forming a low circular mound,
having a very gentle inclination from the centre to the outer bor-
der, which on an average is three or four feet from the entrance.
But if the location is chosen on low, flat, wet land, liable to inun-
dation, though the ground may be perfectly dry at the time the
-ant sets to work, it nevertheless elevates the mound, in the form
of a pretty sharp cone, to the height of fifteen to twenty inches
or more, and makes the entrance near the summit. Around the
mound, in either case, the ant clears the ground of all obstructions,
and levels and smooths the surface to the distance of three or four
feet from the gate of the city, giving the space the appearance of
a handsome pavement, as it really is.

" Within this paved area not a blade of any green thing is
allowed to grow, except a single species of grain-bearing grass.
TTaving planted this crop in a circle around, and two orfthree feet
from the centre of the mound, the insect tends and cultivates it

AGRICULTURAL ANTS. 391

with constant care, cutting away all other grasses and weeds that
may spring up among it, and all around outside the farm-circle to
the extent of one or two feet more. The cultivated grass grows
luxuriantly, and produces a heavy crop of small, white, flinty
seeds, which, under the microscope, very closely resemble ordina-
ry rice. When ripe it is carefully harvested, and carried by the
workers, chaff and all, into the granary cells, where it is divested
of the chaff and packed away. The chaff is taken out and thrown
beyond the limits of the paved area.

"During protracted wet weather, it sometimes happens that the
provision-stores become damp, and are liable to sprout and spoil.
In this case, on the first fine day, the ants bring out the damp and
damaged grain, and expose it to the sun till it is dry, when they
carry it back and pack away all the sound seeds, leaving those
that had sprouted to waste.

" In a peach orchard not far from my house is a considerable
elevation, on which is an extensive bed of rock. In the sand-
beds overlying portions of this rock are fine cities of the Agricul-
tural Ants, evidently very ancient My observations on their
manners and customs have been limited to the last twelve years,
during which time the inclosure surrounding the orchard has pre-
vented the approach of cattle to the ant-farms. The cities which
are outside the inclosure, as well as those protected in it, are at
the proper season invariably planted with the ant-rice. The crop
may accordingly always be seen springing up within the circle
about the 1st of November every year. Of late years, however,
since the number of farms and cattle has greatly increased, and
the latter are eating off the grass much closer than formerly, thus
preventing the ripening of the seeds, I notice that the Agricultur-
al Ant is placing its cities along the turn-rows in the fields, walks
in gardens, inside about the gates, etc., where they can cultivate
their farms without molestation from the cattle.

" There can be no doubt that the particular species of grain-
bearing grass mentioned above is intentionally planted. In farm-
er-like manner, the ground upon which it stands is carefully di-
vested of all other grasses and weeds during the time it is grow-
ing. When it is ripe the grain is taken care of, the dry stubble
cut away and carried off, the paved area being left unencumbered
until the ensuing autumn, when the same ' ant - rice' reappears
within the same circle, and receives the same agricultural atten-
tion as was bestowed upon the previous crop; and so on, year

392 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

after year, as I know to be the case, in all situations where the
Ants' settlements are protected from graminivorous animals.".

After receiving this account, Mr. Darwin wrote to Dr. Lince-
cum asking him whether he thought that the Ants planted seed
for the next year's crop, and received the following answer: "I
have not the slightest doubt of it ; and my conclusions have not
been arrived at from hasty or careless observation, nor from see-
ing the Ants do something that looked a little like it, and then
guessing the results. I have at all times watched the same ant-
cities, during the last twelve years, and I know that what I stated
in my former letter is true. I visited the same cities yesterday,
and found the crop of ant-rice growing finely, and exhibiting also
the signs of high cultivation, and not a blade of any other kind
of grass or seed was to be seen within twelve inches of the circu-
lar row of ant-rice."

CHAPTER XIX.

SUB-AQUATIC NESTS. VERTEBRATES.

Fishes as Architects. — The Sticklebacks and their general Habits. — The Fresh-
water Sticklebacks. — A jealous Proprietor. — Punishment of Trespassers. —
Form and Materials of the Nest. — Use of the Nest. — Cannibalistic Propensities.
— The Fifteen-spined Stickleback and its Form. — Its curious Nest. — Mr.
Couch's description of a Nest in a Rope's End. — Fishes of Guiana. — The Hassar
or Hardback, and its place in Zoology. — Nest of the Hassar. — Parental Watch-
fulness.— Singular Position of the Nest. — Habits of the Hassar.

As a rule, Fishes display but little architectural genius, their
anatomical construction debarring them from raising any but the
simplest edifice. A fish has but one tool, its mouth, and even
this instrument is of very limited capacity. Still, although the
nest which a fish can make is necessarily of a slight and rude
character, there are some members of that class which construct
homes which deserve the name.

The best instances of architecture among the Fishes are those
which are produced by the Sticklebacks (Gasterosteus), those
well-known little beings whose spiny bodies, brilliant colors, and
dashing courage make them such favorites with all who study
nature. There are several species of British Sticklebacks, but as
the fresh-water species all make their nests in a very similar man-
ner, there will be no need of describing each species separately.

THE STICKLEBACKS. 393

These fishes make their nests of the delicate vegetation that is
found in fresh water, and will carry materials from some little
distance in order to complete the home. They do not, however,
range to any great extent, because they would intrude upon the
preserve of some other fish, and be ruthlessly driven away.

When the male Stickleback has fixed upon a spot for his nest,
he seems to consider a certain area around as his own especial
property, and will not suffer any other fish to intrude within its
limits. His boldness is astonishing, for he will dash at a fish of
ten times his size, and, by dint of his fierce onset and his bristling
spears, drive the enemy away. Even if a stick be placed within
the sacred circle, he will dart at it, repeating the assault as often
as the stick may trespass upon his domains. Within this limit,
therefore, he must seek materials for his nest, as he can hardly
move for six inches beyond it without intruding upon the
grounds of another fish. This right of property only seems to
extend along the banks and a few inches outward, the centre of
the stream or ditch being common property. Along the bank,
however, where vegetation is most luxuriant, there is scarcely a
foot of space that is not occupied by some Stickleback, and jeal-
ously guarded by him.

Although the nests of the Stickleback are plentiful enough,
they are not so familiar to the public as might be expected, prin-
cipally because they are very conspicuous, and few of the unini-
tiated would know what .they were, even if they were pointed
out. Being of such very delicate materials, and but loosely hung
together, they will not retain their form when they are removed
from the water, but fall together in an undistinguishable mass,
like a coil of tangled thread that had been soaked in water for a
few weeks.

The materials of which the nest is made are extremely varia-
ble, but they are always constructed so as to harmonize with the
surrounding objects, and thus to escape ordinary observation.
Sometimes it is made of bits of grass which have been blown into
the river, sometimes of straws, and sometimes of growing plants.
The object of the nest is evident enough when the habits of the
Stickleback are considered. As is the case with many other fish,
there are no more determined destroyers of Stickleback eggs than
the Sticklebacks themselves, and the nests are evidently construct-
ed for the purpose of affording a resting-place for the eggs until
they are hatched. If a few of these nests be removed from the

394 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

water in a net, and the eggs thrown into the stream, the Stickle-
backs rush at them from all sides, and fight for them like boys
scrambling for halfpence. The eggs are very small, barely the
size of dust-shot, and are yellow when first placed in the nest, but
deepen in color as they approach maturity.

There is a well-known marine species of this group, called the
Fifteen -spined Stickleback {Gasterosteus spinachia), a long-
bodied, long-snouted fish, with a slightly projecting lower jaw,
and a row of fifteen short and sharp spines along the back. This
creature makes its nest of the smaller algae, such as the corallines,
and the delicate green and purple sea-weeds which fringe our
coasts.

Sometimes, indeed, it becomes rather eccentric in its architect-
ure, and builds in very curious situations. Mr. Couch, the well-
known ichthyologist, mentions a case where a pair of Sticklebacks
had made their nest "in the loose end of a rope, from which the
separated strands hung out about a yard from the surface, over a
depth of four or five fathoms, and to which the materials could
only have been brought, of course, in the mouth of the fish, from
the distance of about thirty feet. T^hey were formed of the usual
aggregation of the finer sorts of green and red sea- weed, but they
were so matted together in the hollow formed by the untwisted
strands of the rope that the mass constituted an oblong ball of
nearly the size of the fist, in which had been deposited the scat-
tered assemblage of spawn, and which was bound into shape with
a thread of animal substance, which was passed through and
through in various directions, while the rope itself formed an out-
side covering to the whole."

This is not the only fish that is known to construct a nest.

In the fresh waters of tropical America there is a genus of fish
belonging to the Siluridse, and named Callichthys, from the beauty
of the species. The fishes of this genus have four very long bar-
bules hanging from the upper lip and pointing backward, and are
all mailed except part of the belly. Their general color is green-
brown, and they do not reach to any great size, eight inches be-
ing their usual length. They are generally very fat, and are much
valued by the natives of Guiana, who live so much upon fish.
The native name for this fish is Hassar, and the European resi-
dents call it the Hardback, in allusion to its coat of shining mail.

FIFTEEN-8MNED STICKLEBACKS AND NEST.

THE HASSAR, OR HARDBACK. 397

To the naturalist, however, the chief point of interest in these
fish is the fact that they are in the habit of constructing nests
which are quite as well formed as those of the stickleback, and
are made of grass-blades, straws, and leaves. These nests are very
plentiful in the little muddy streamlets that intersect the sugar
marshes, so that the habits of the fish can be easily watched.
The parent fish is very jealous of the eggs, and waits near them
until they are hatched, and the young family committed to the
water. The natives are well aware of this habit, and catch the
fish readily by insinuating a net or even a basket under the wa-
ter near a nest, and then raising it quickly, when the parent fish
is mostly found in the net.

Perhaps the most curious part of the economy of this fish is the
fact that the nest is not placed in the water, but in a muddy hole
just above the surface. This habit, however, accords with the
qualities of the fish, which is remarkably independent of- water,
and can travel over land from one pond to another, led by some
mysterious instinct, which we of higher powers can not compre-
hend. During the dry season the Hassar is in the habit of bur-
rowing into the mud, and there residing unttt the welcome rain
sets it free. Those who know the customs of the fish are there-
fore able to procure it at almost any period of the year, digging
for it in the dry season, and fishing for it in the wet months.

CHAPTER XX.

SUB-AQUATIC NESTS. INVERTEBRATES.

A Pool and its Wonders. — The Water Spider. — Its sub-aquatic Nest. — Convey-
ance of Air to the Nest. — The Diving-bell anticipated. — Character of the Air in
the Nest. — Mr. Bell's Experiments upon the Spider. — Life of the Water Spider. —
The Htdrachna. — The Caddis Flies and their Characteristics. — Sub-aquatic
Homes of the Larva. — Singular Varieties of Form and Material. — Life of a Cad-
dis.— Description of Nests in my own Collection. — Fixed Cases, and Modification
of Larva. — Singular Materials for Nest-building. — CorAls and their general His-
tory.— The Coral of Commerce. — Development and Extension of the Coral. —
How fresh Colonies are founded. — Various Corals and their Growth. — Submarine
Tube-makers. — The SERPULiB and their general Habits. — The Operculum of the
Serpula. — The Terebell/E and their submarine Houses. — The Caddis Shrimp.
— Remarkable Analogy.

When I was a very little boy, I was accustomed to spend much
time on the banks of the Cherwell, and used to amuse myself by
watching the various inhabitants of the' water. Animal life is

398 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

very abundant in that pleasant little river, and there was one fa-
vorite nook where a branch of a weeping-willow projected hori-
zontally, and afforded a seat over the dark deep pool, one side of
which was abrupt and the other sloping.

Here the merry gyrini ran their ceaseless rounds, and the wa-
ter-boatmen rowed themselves in fitful jerks, or lay resting in a
contemplative manner on their oars. Now and then an unlucky
insect would fall from the tree into the water, and then uprose
from the dark depth a pair of dull eyes and a gaping mouth, and
then, with a glitter as of polished silver, the dace would disap-
pear with its prey. In the shelving part of the pool the caddis
worms moved slowly along, while the great dyticus beetle would
rise at intervals to the surface, jerk the end of his tail into the
air, and then dive below to the muddy bottom. This spot was
much favored by the nursemaid, for she had no trouble in watch-
ing -me as long as I could sit on the branch and look into the
water. True, I might have fallen into the river, but I never did ;
and, even had that accident occurred, it would have wrought no
harm except wet clothes, for I could swim nearly as well as the
water insects themselves.

Close under the bank lived some creatures which always inter-
ested me greatly. Spiders they certainly were, but they appeared
to have the habits of the water beetle — coming slowly to the sur-
face of the water, giving a kind of flirt in the air, and then disap-
pearing into the depths, looking like balls of shining silver as
they sank down. I had been familiar with these creatures for
years before I met with them in some book, and learned that they
were known under the name of Water Spider {Argyronetra
aquatica).

This spider is a most curious and interesting creature, because
it affords an example of an animal which breathes atmospheric
air constructing a home beneath the water, and filling it with the
air needful for respiration.

The sub-aquatic cell of the Water Spider may be found in
many rivers and ditches where the water does not run very
swiftly. It is made of silk, as is the case with all spiders' nests,
and is generally egg-shaped, having an opening below. This cell
is filled with air; and if the Spider be kept in a glass vessel, it
may be seen reposing in the cell, with its head downward, after
the manner of its tribe. The precise analogy between this nest
and the diving-bell of the present day is too obvious to need a

THE WATER SPIDER.

399

Water Spider.

detailed account. How the air is introduced into the cell is a
problem that was for some time unsolved. The reader is prob-
ably aware that the bubbles of air which are to be seen on sub-
aquatic plants are almost entirely composed of oxygen gas, which
is exuded from the plant, and which is so important an agent in
purifying the water. Some zoologists thought that the air which
is found in the cell of the "Water Spider was nothing but oxygen
that had been exuded from the plant upon which the nest was
fixed, and that it had been intercepted in its passage to the sur-
face. In order to set the question at rest, Mr. Bell, the well-
known naturalist, instituted a series of experiments upon the
Spider, and communicated the results to the Linnsean Society.
The experiments were made in 1856, and Mr. Bell's remarks are
as follows :

" No. 1. Placed in an upright cylindrical vessel of water, in

400 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

which was a rootless plant of Stratiotes, on the afternoon of No-
vember 14. By the morning it had constructed a very perfect
oval cell, filled with air, about the size of an acorn. In this it
has remained stationary up to the present time.

" No. 2. Nov. 15. In another vessel, also furnished with Stra-
tiotes, I placed six Argyronetras. The one now referred to began
to weave its beautiful web about five o'clock in the afternoon.
After much preliminary preparation, it ascended to the surface,
and obtained a bubble of air, with which it immediately and quick-
ly descended, and the bubble was disengaged from the body, and
left in connection with the web. As the nest was, on one side, in
contact with the glass, inclosed in an angle formed by two leaves
of the Stratiotes, I could easily observe all its movements. Pres-
ently it ascended again and brought down another bubble, which
was similarly deposited.

" In this way no less than fourteen journeys were performed,
sometimes two or three very quickly one after another ; at other
times with a considerable interval between them, during which
time the little animal was employed in extending and giving
shape to the beautiful transparent bell, getting into it, pushing it
out at one place and amending it at another, and strengthening its
attachments to the supports. At length it seemed to be satisfied
with its dimensions, when it crept into it and settled itself to rest
with the head downward. The cell was now the size and nearly
the form of half an acorn cut transversely, the smaller and round-
ed part being uppermost.

" No. 3. The only difference between the movements of this
and the former was, that it was rather quicker in forming its cell.
In neither vessel was there a single bubble of oxygen evolved by
the plant.

"The manner in which the animal possesses itself of the bub-
ble of air is very curious, and, as far as I know, has never been
exactly described. It ascends to the surface slowly, assisted by
a thread attached to the leaf or other support below and to the
surface of the water. As soon as it comes near the surface, it
turns with the extremity of the abdomen upward, and exposes a
portion of the body to the air for an instant, then with a jerk it
snatches, as it were, a bubble of air, which is not only attached to
the hairs which cover the abdomen, but is held on by the two
hinder legs, which are crossed at an acute angle near their ex-
tremity, this crossing of the legs taking place at the instant the

THE WATER SPIDER — CADDIS FLIES. 401

bubble is seized. The little creature then descends more rapidly
and regains its cell, always by the same route, turns the abdomen
within it, and disengages the bubble.

"No. 4. Several of them, when I received them, had the hair
on the abdomen wetted, and I placed them on some blotting-
paper until they were dry. On returning them to the water, two
remained underneath a floating piece of cork, and the hair, being
now dry, retained the pellicle of air which is ordinarily observed.
One of the two came out of the water, attached the cork to the
glass, and wove a web against the latter, against which it rested
about a quarter of an inch above the surface of the water. After
remaining there about two days it resumed its aquatic habits,
and, like all others, formed its winter habitation."

Water Spiders are now familiar to us on account of the wide-
spread fashion for aquaria, but so thoroughly have the ditches and
streams been ransacked by professional dealers that the creature
has become quite rare in spots where it was once plentiful.

The Water Spider places her eggs in this cell, spinning a saucer-
shaped cocoon, and fixing it against the inner side of the cell and
near the top. In this cocoon are about a hundred eggs, of a
spherical shape, and very small. The cell is a true home for the
spider, which passes its earliest days under the water, and, when it
is strong enough to construct a sub-aquatic home for itself, brings
its prey to the cell before eating it.

The color of the Water Spider is brown, with a grayish surface
caused by the thick growth of hair which covers the body, and
with a very slight tinge of red on the cephalothorax. The reader
must not confound this creature with another Arachnid that is
sometimes called the Water Spider {Hydrachna cruenta), and is of
a bright scarlet color, with a peculiar velvety surface.

There is an order of insects which is especially dear to anglers;
not so much to fly-fishers, as to those who like to sit and look at
a float for several consecutive hours. This order is scientifically
termed Trichoptera, or Hair-winged insects, and the various
species of which it is composed are classed together under the
familiar title of Caddis Flies.

These insects may always be known by the peculiar leather}-
aspect of the body, and by the coating of hair with which the
wings are covered, the long hairs being spread over the whole
surface, and standing boldly out like a fringe round the edge.

Cc

•±02 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

They all have long and slender antenna?, and in some genera,
such as Mystacida, these organs are nearly three times as long as
the head and body, reminding the observer of the lovely Japan
moths (Adelae), whose delicate antennas wave and glitter in the
sunbeams like stray threads of spider's web. For the perfect
insect the angler cares comparatively little. Imitations in hair,
feather, and silk are useful to the fly-fisher, and are known to
anglers by the eccentric nomenclature by which such imitations
are called. It is the larva in which the angler delights, and it is
chiefly of the larva that our present description will treat.

"We will now trace the life of the Caddis Fly from the egg to
the perfect insect.

In the breeding season, the female may be observed to carry
about with her a double bundle of little greenish eggs, probably
in order to expose them for a certain time to the warm sunbeams
before they are immersed in the water. This curious bundle is
a long oval in shape, and is bent sharply in the middle, its ex-
tremities being attached to the abdomen of the insect. When her
instinct tells her of the proper time, she proceeds to the water,
and attaches the eggs to the leaf of some aquatic plant, often
crawling down the stem for several inches. The Caddis Fly is
quite at home on the water, and, unlike the dragon flies, which
are quite helpless when immersed, can run on the surface with
considerable speed, and on occasion can swim below the surface
with scarcely less rapidity.

They may often be observed in the act of running on the
water, and while they are thus employed, they often fall victims
to some hungry fish, which is attracted by the circling ripples
occasioned by the movement of the limbs. Fly-fishers, who are
acquainted with the habits of fishes and insects, take advantage
of their knowledge, and by causing their imitation Caddis Fly to
ripple over the surface, or even to sink beneath it, like the verita-
ble insect, delude the unsuspecting fish into swallowing a hook
instead of a fly.

In process of time the eggs are hatched, and the young larva?
then proceed to construct houses in which they can dwell. These
houses are formed of various materials and are of various shapes;
and, indeed, not only does each species have its own particular
form of house, but there is considerable variety even in the houses
of a single species. In the accompanying illustration are shown
a number of the nests formed by the Caddis Fly in its larval

CADDIS FLIES.

403

state, together with the perfect insects. All the figures have been
drawn from actual specimens, some of which are in the British
Museum, and others in my own collection. The materials of
which the nest is made depend greatly on the locality in which
the insect is hatched, and in a rather large series of Caddis nests
now before me there are some very remarkable instances of the
manner in which the insect has been obliged to adapt itself to
circumstances. The most common style of case is that which is
composed of a number of sticks and grass stems laid longitudin-
ally upon each other like the fasces of the Roman consuls. Of

M

■sfe

%

Caddis.

these I have specimens of various sizes and shapes, some being
barely half an inch long, while others measure four times that
length, the sticks being sometimes placed so irregularly that the
home of the architect is not easily seen. The creatures are not
at all particular about the straightness of the sticks, but take them

404 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

of any degree of curvature, as in one of the examples represented
in the illustration, where the stick is not only curved, but has a
large bud at the end.

Another case is made of the hollow stem of some plant, appar-
ently that of a hemlock, to which are attached a few slips of bark
from the plants. Next comes a series of cases in which the Cad-
dis larva has contrived to secure a great number of cylindrical
grass stems and arranged them transversely in several sets, mak-
ing one set cross the other so as to leave a central space, in which
the little architect can live. One or two cases are made wholly
of bark, apparently the cuticle of the common reed, a plant which
is very common in the Cherwell, whence the cases were taken.
In all probability, these strips of cuticle have been dropped into
the river by the water rats while feeding on the reeds.

Several cases are made entirely of leaves, mostly taken from
the white thorn, which grows in great quantities along the banks
of the above-mentioned river. Then there are cases which are
equally composed of sticks and leaves, these materials generally
occupying opposite ends of the case. There is another series of
cases made up of fine grass, apparently the debris of hay which
had been blown into the water during the summer, and having
the materials laid across each other like the needles of a stocking-
knitter. Most of these cases are balanced by a stone.

Next come a number of cases which are composed of small
shells, those of the Planorbis being the most common, and having
among them a few specimens of the Limnsea, or pond snail, and
many separate valves and perfect shells of the fresh-water mussel.
The Caddis larva is an incorrigible kidnapper, seizing on any
shell that may suit its purpose, without troubling itself about the
inhabitant. It is quite a common occurrence to find four or five
living specimens of the Planorbis and Limnaea affixed to the case
of a Caddis larva, and to see the inhabitants adhering to the plants
and endeavoring to proceed in one direction while the Caddis is
trying to walk in another, thus recalling the well-known episode
of the Tartar and his captor. In these cases the cylindrical body
is made of sand and small fragments of shells bound together
with a water-proof cement, and the shells are attached by their
flat sides to the exterior.

There are also several cases which are made entirely of sand
cemented together, some being cylindrical, and others tapering to
a point like an elephant's tusk. There are also examples of

CADDIS FLIES. 405

mixed structures, where the Caddis has combined shells with the
leaf and twig cases, and in one of these instances the little archi-
tect has bent back the valves of a small mussel, and fastened them
back to back on its house. Besides these there are one or two
very eccentric forms, where the Caddis has chosen some objects
which are not often seen in such a position. The seed-vessels of
the elm are tolerably common, but I have several specimens
where the Caddis has taken the operculum of a dead Pond-snail
and fastened it to the case ; and there is an example where the
chrysalis of some moth, apparently beloaging to the genus Por-
thesia, has been blown into the water from a tree overhanging
the stream, and seized upon by a Caddis as a unique ornament
for its house. These latter examples were found in a stream in
Wiltshire, and the tusk-like sand-cases were found in a disused
stone quary in the same county.

Various experiments have been tried upon the larva of the
Caddis, in order to see its mode of building. A lady, Miss Smee,
has been very successful in this pursuit, and has forced the Cad-
dis larvae to build their nests of the most extraordinary sub-
stances, such as gold-dust, crushed glass, and other substances.
They would not, however, use beads, or any thing where the sur-
face was smooth and polished.

In this remarkable sub-aquatic home the Caddis larva lives in
tolerable security, for the head and front of the body are clothed
in horny mail, and the soft white abdomen is protected by the
case. The food of the Caddis is generally of a vegetable nature,
though there are one or two species which live partly, if not en-
tirely, on animal food. When the larva has lived for its full pe-
riod, and is about to change into the pupal condition, it closes the
aperture of its case with a very strong net, having rather large
meshes, and lies securely therein until it is about to change into
the winged state. It then bites its way through the net with a
pair of strong mandibles, comes to the surface of the water, breaks
from its pupal envelope, and shortly takes to flight. The larger
species crawl up the stems of aquatic plants before leaving the
pupal skin, but the smaller merely stand on the cast skin, which
floats raft-like on the water.

There are one or two species whose cases are not movable, but
are fixed to the spot whereon they were made. In order, there-
fore, to compensate for the immobility of the case, the larva has a
much larger range of movement. In the ordinary species, the

406 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

creature holds itself to the extremity of the case by means of
hooks at the end of its body, which can grasp with some force, as
any one knows who has pulled a Caddis larva out of its house.
But when the case is fixed, the abdominal claspers of the larva
are attached to a pair of long foot-stalks, so that the creature can
extend its body to some distance from the entrance of the tube.

We now turn to the warmer seas, and shall there find some
most magnificent examples of subaquatic homes.

Our first examples of these will be the wonderful creatures
which are classed together under the general term of Corals, and
which are so familiar to us either in a manufactured state or as
ornaments for the drawing-room. How vast are their submarine
labors is evident from the enormous "Coral-reefs" which they
raise, and which form great islands whereon an army can live,
and inlets wherein a fleet can ride securely at anchor.

Before proceeding farther in the history of the Coral and its
submarine home, we will see how it extends itself with such won-
derful rapidity, and what is the process that enables fresh colo-
nies to establish themselves, and existing colonies to spread them-
selves, both these operations being conducted on different princi-
ples.

How the Coral grows is a problem which was unsolved until a
comparatively late period. Not only were naturalists ignorant of
its development, but they did not even know in what kingdom
to place it, whether vegetable or mineral. Opinions were long
divided on this point, the men of greatest reputation inclining to
the belief that it was mineral, while a very few thought that it
must be vegetable, and that the flower-like rays of the polype
were veritable submarine blossoms. But when a more careful
observer announced that the Coral was really the production of
an animal, both parties united in ridiculing his theory, and for a
while the animal origin of Coral was put aside by the scientific
world. Truth, however, prevailed, as it always will do, sooner or
later, and every one nowadays knows that Coral is the production
of animated beings.

Still, although the general fact is known, its details are not so
familiar.

In the active season of Coral life, that is, from May to August
or September, millions of young Corals are launched into the
world. When they first pass into the sea from the mouth of their

CORALS. 407

parent, they are tiny flask-shaped beings, covered with minute
cilia, by means of which they can pass through the water with
some rapidity. They have a kind of mouth at the small end,
which corresponds to the neck of the flask, and it is a curious fact
that they always swim with the large end forward.

After a time they change their shape, elongating until they
look like little white worms, but still moving about after the same
fashion. They pass some time in this phase of existence, and
then settle down upon some fixed object, such as a rock, and ad-
here to it by the enlarged base. Scarcely have they done so
than they again alter their shape, and assume a form so different
that no one who was not acquainted with the little creatures
could recognize them. Instead of being long and worm-like,
they now contract themselves in length, while they proportion-
ately increase in width, and look something like an echinus, or
sea urchin.

It is a curious fact, that up to this time they have passed
through four stages, and in each stage they change in length.
Before they issue from the parent they are nearly spherical, but
when they pass into the sea they assume the flask-like shape.
They next elongate themselves considerably, and then suddenly
become even shorter than their width.

In this fourth stage the mouth is surrounded by eight little
cushion-like projections, which soon sprout into the beautiful
fringed tentacles which give to the animal so flower-like an ap-
pearance.

"When it has arrived at this stage of existence, the young Coral
begins to develop some new and remarkable powers. From vari-
ous parts of the body spring little projections, which soon exhibit
an orifice like the mouth of the original Coral, and in a short time
this aperture is surrounded with cushions, which are developed
into tentacles as before. As soon as it comes to maturity, each
of these supplementary Corals puts forth similar buds, so that the
increase is wonderfully rapid, even by " gemmanation," as this
mode of multiplication is called, not to mention the vast numbers
of new settlements that are made by the young which are poured
from the mouth.

Although we have now learned the method by which the Coral
animals are reproduced, we have not ascertained how the solid,
stony substance which we call Coral is formed, nor the precise
connection which exists between the animal and the Coral.

408 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

If the reader will take up a branch of the ordinary Coral of
commerce, he will see that it is slightly grooved or fluted through-
out its extent, and that its surface is studded with little projec-
tions having star-like disks. Now, if this piece of Coral could be
again clothed with the living creature by which it was deposited,
we should see a beautiful and a wonderful sight. Next to the
stony core lie a series of longitudinal vessels, each vessel corre-
sponding with a groove, and above them lies a confused mass of
irregular vessels communicating with each other. At intervals
there arise the lovely flowerets of the Coral, the bodies being
bright rose-color, and their arms pure white. These arms or ten-
tacles are in ceaseless motion, and the aspect of a large and healthy
branch of coral is imposingly beautiful.

The animal has the power of depositing certain minute calcare-
ous particles, commonly called spicules, which are always of re-
markable forms, and are different in the various species of coral.
In the common red Coral they are nearly cylindrical, and armed
with projecting knobs covered with angular spikes. These spi-
cules are then bound together by a red cement, and thus the
Coral is formed, the fluted branches being deposited under the
longitudinal vessels, and the raised projections under the flower-
ets of the polype. To see the Coral in full vigor it is necessary
to visit the spots where it grows, as it "dies almost immediately
after being taken out of the water, and even if transferred with
great care to a vessel, is sure to die in a very short time. After
death, the whole of the bark dries up and fades away, so that it
crumbles into powder at a touch, and can be removed by merely
rubbing the Coral between the fingers.

Several of the more curious species of Corals and Madrepores
are to be seen upon the large illustration, which represents a por-
tion of sea-bed beset with these beautiful zoophytes.

In the upper left-hand corner is the common Red Coral of
commerce, which has been already mentioned, and in the upper
centre is a clustered branch of the White Coral, which is so
much used as a drawing-room ornament when placed under a
glass shade. In the upper right-hand corner may be seen a sin-
gular group of zoophytes with curved stems and flower-like heads.
This is the Green Clavellaria {Clavellaria viridis), one of the
most striking examples of the genus.

The Green Clavellaria is very common on the Isle of Vaniko-

C0BAL8 AND MADBEPOBES.

Clavellartavinaia.

Comllium rubrum. Pcecillopora cetpitosa.

Tubipora rubeola. Xenia elongata.

Asticea viridu.

CORALS. 411

ro, and is found in tolerably large masses, adhering to rocks,
madrepores, and similar substances. All the Clavellarias are of
somewhat similar shape, though variable in size and color, and
may be recognized by several conspicuous characteristics. The
tubes are nearly cylindrical, but tapering, as shown in the illus-
tration, and forming a foot-stalk which is more or less bent.

The texture is somewhat leathery, and is strengthened by in-
numerable spicules of a calcareous nature, which are agglomera-
ted together in bundles. These spicules are too small to be dis-
tinguished except by the microscope, but under a tolerably high
power they are seen to be long and spindle-shaped, sharp at both
ends, and encircled with little rounded knobs set in regular rows.
These tubes are always placed very closely together, but do not
adhere to each other, their grooved surfaces being always distinct.

The animal by which this tube is formed is a very pretty one,
cylindrical, with eight radiating tentacles of a violet gray. The
color of the tube is green for the upper half, and then changes to
brown, so that the contrast of the two colors is very decided.
The average length of the tube is two inches.

There are several other species of Clavellaria, among which
may be noticed the Violet Clavellaria {Clavellaria violacea).
This is a much smaller species, but is colored in a more bold and
decided manner. In this creature the tubes are dark violet and
the tentacles are bright yellow. They do not, however, project
from the tube as boldly as those of the preceding species, but only
just show their tips above the entrance, withdrawing them smart-
ly on the least alarm. As they retreat they slightly contract the
orifice, their bodies being fastened to the inside of the tube.

Toward the centre of the illustration, and on the right-hand
side, may be seen a remarkable tree-like object,- covered with
long, tendril-like appendages, each tipped with a radiating beard.
This zoophyte is known by the title of Xenia elongala, and, on
account of its singular form, is a very conspicuous species.

Examples of this genus are spread over many of the hotter
parts of the world, some being found in the Bed Sea, and all no-
table for the remarkable form of the animal and its submarine
home. The present species has been chosen more for the singu-
larity of its form than the beauty of its colors, which can not be
expressed in the simple black and white of a wood-cut. Some
species of this genus have the star-like tentacles colored with

412 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

blue of various shades, some with rose, and some with lilac, and
as in many cases the expanded tentacles are an inch in diameter,
the effect of a large mass of these animals in full health is very
fine.

Except, however, in their native state, they never can be seen
in full health, their constitutions being so delicate that they can
not endure removal from the spot whereon they were developed.
If removed from the water they immediately shrink to half their
size, and do not assume their former dimensions, no matter how
carefully they are tended. The present species is found on the
shores of the Feejee Islands, and in form is certainly the most
singular of its genus, the enormously long and slender body at
once distinguishing it from any other species. Its color is simple
brown, and the diameter of the tentacles is rather more than three
quarters of an inch.

In the left-hand lower corner of the illustration is a curious
globular object, covered with circular and radiated marks, and
having a number of flower-headed projections upon the top.
This is the Green Astr^ea (Astrcea viridis), one of the finest ex-
amples of a singular and beautiful group of zoophytes. In this
genus the animals are shaped something like the well-known sea
anemone, and rather short, having a great number of very small
tentacles, which are gathered round a central mouth. The " cups"
which these animals form, and in which they live, are rather deep
and conical, and their inner surfaces are corrugated into a num-
ber of thin walls with beautifully serrated edges.

The animal is rather oddly formed. The body is not quite
cylindrical, but is broader at the base than at the top, and is deep-
ly ridged with circular furrows, so that it looks very like the
well-known glass bottles which are used for holding salad dress-
ing, and which make up for lack of contents by profusion of
glass. In the very centre of the top is placed the mouth, and
round it are grouped a vast number of little tentacles that radiate
like the flowerets of a daisy or dandelion. In the present species
the animal is about half an inch in length, and the animals are
clustered together in masses that are often as large as the fist.
They are rather variable in shape, but are always more or less
globular.

The color of this species is simple and pleasing. The body of
the animal is pale gray-blue, and the tentacles are bright green,

THE RED ORGAN-PIPE CORAL. 413

so that when a number of the animals are simultaneously pro-
truding themselves, the general effect is very striking. These
zoophytes are able to retract themselves almost wholly within
their houses, so that nothing is visible except that round the
mouth there is a small green circle, which is formed by the pro-
jecting tips of the tentacles. This species is found at Vanikoro.
There are many species of Astrsea, all very pretty, and some
quite beautiful. Among the most conspicuous are the Abnorm-
al Astr>ea (Asti-cea abdita), in which the mouth is scarlet and
the tentacles yellow ; the Anana AsTRiEA (Astrcea ananas), where
the tentacles are yellow, but the mouth white ; and the Choco-
late Astrcea (Astrcea fusco-viridis), where the mouth is green,
surrounded with a broad chocolate border, and the tentacles are
white.

In the left centre of the illustration is seen a group of that
most beautful zoophyte which is known as the Red Organ-pipe
Coral (Tubipora rubeola [or syringaj).

This handsome zoophyte is found chiefly off Carteret, in New
Ireland, and is grouped together in masses that are often many
yards in diameter. It is usually found in about two or three feet
of water, but is sometimes placed so high that at very low tides
it is laid bare by the receding waters.

The animal which forms this wonderful tubing is cylindrical,
and the tentacles are pinkish, not possessing the brilliant red of
the tubes, and in its native state the animals envelop so com-
pletely the upper part of the general mass that the bright red
head is not perceptible. The coral masses are very fragile, and
will not bear the pressure of the human foot, crumbling beneath
the tread as if they were made of sugar. The tubes are beauti-
fully cylindrical, and do not adhere to each other, being kept
asunder by partitions, which precisely resemble the boards
through which the pipes of an organ are passed.

They are very thin, though hard, and a rough pressure of the
hand will always damage them. My own specimen is now sadly
shorn of its original fair dimensions, at least half of its tubes hav-
ing been broken away by the rude grasp of servants' hands, just
as my best specimens of the paper nautilus and other fragile cu-
riosities were damaged before I learned to put them under lock
and key.

The animal is not a large one, its length being scarcely greater

41<± HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

than that of the distance from one partition to another. The ar-
rangement of the tubes and the partitions looks very complicated,
but is, in fact, simple enough. The animal secretes around itself
the calcareous substance which forms the tube, but when it has
reached to its full extent, it is obliged to leave the cylindrical
home in which it had resided. The partition is then secreted by
the edge of the mantle, or membrane by which the creature is
attached to its tube, and the zoophyte then begins another tube
immediately above that which it has quitted.

Sometimes there is a kind of floor that separates the upper tube
from the lower, but it is extremely thin, so that a tolerably stout
bristle can be pushed through it. The partition is at least twice
as strong as the tubes, which are scarcely thicker than the paper
on which this account is printed, and is not solid, but perforated
with holes just like the machine-made bricks which have lately
come into use. In my own specimen there is a curious proof of
the abundance of submarine animal life. The group of Organ-
pipe Coral has enveloped a piece of White Coral, and has shown
a remarkable instance of the manner in which beings so low in
the scale of nature can accommodate themselves to circumstances.
As if conscious that the coral formed an obstacle which they
could not pass in a direct line, they ceased from tube-building
when they arrived within a 'little distance of the coral, and threw
up a partition vertically instead of horizontally, so as to envelop
the greater part of the coral with the red calcareous substance.
Having done so, they then made a new foundation upon the
coral, and built a fresh series of tubes, so that, when viewed from
above, the series of tubes is quite uninterrupted, and no one
would imagine that any extraneous substance had intruded into
the mass.

The tubes themselves have formed the basis of other subma-
rine habitations, for a moderate magnifying-glass shows that sun-
dry molluscs and molluscoids have settled down upon their ex-
terior, while the white serpentine tubes which creep among the
perpendicular pillars show that the serpulos and other tube-mak-
ing creatures have taken up their residence in so well-protected
a spot.

At the bottom of the sea there are a vast number of wonderful
and interesting animals that are known to naturalists as Tubico-
lous Annetides, i. e., Tube-inhabiting Worms. These creatures are

SERPUL^E.

415

m ifm

Terebella Conchilega.

Serpula G'ontortnplicata.

Sabella Unispira,
Sabella Alveolaria.

true architects, not inhabiting the tubes which have been con-
structed by other creatures, but making them gradually, and in
some instances getting together sand, stones, mud, shells, and
other objects, which they use as materials for their homes. We
may call the caddis grubs, which have recently been described,
the tubicolous larva? of fresh water, and very curious are the
habitations which they construct. In salt water, however, there
is much more variety than in ponds and rivers, and the tubicolge
are many and diversified.

We will begin with those which are most plentiful, and which
are best known, because the hardness of their tubes causes them
to be preserved long after the inhabitants have perished. If the
reader should happen to have used a dredge, or a trawl, he must
have brought to the surface great numbers of white shelly tubes,
some of them being nearly triangular, and adhering by their

416 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

whole length to a stone or a shell, and others nearly cylindrical,
and rearing themselves from the stone after the first half inch
or so.

These are the work of a curious worm, called by Linneeus the
Serpula, on account of the serpentine manner in which its tube
is formed. There are many species of Serpula, and some of the
more conspicuous among them will be mentioned.

The Serpula belongs to the Annelidas, or Einged animals, a
very large group, which includes the earth-worm, the leech, the
nereis, and many other well-known creatures, all of which have
the body composed of a great number of rings, and are destitute
of true feet. They breathe either through the skin, by sacs, or
by gills, and in the present genus the respiration is by means of
gills, which are always delicate and elegant in form, and mostly
brilliant in color. The body of the Serpula is comparatively
short, the tube being frequently six or ten times as long as the
animal which made it, and in consequence the Serpula possesses
a deep and safe retreat, into which it can withdraw itself when-
ever threatened by danger.

The very fact, however, that the worm lives in a tube, causes
the observer to ask himself how the creature contrives to breathe,
and how the long tubular shell is kept clean. A reference to the
illustration will explain the former of these difficulties, and the
latter will presently be touched upon.

Projecting from the orifice of the shell may be seen a curious
fan-like appendage ; were the illustration to be colored, this fan
would have been tinted with the brightest hues of scarlet and
white, though no brush could give the wondrous delicacy of
the feeling or express its semi-pellucid beauty. This "fan" is
composed of the gills of the Serpula, and the animal is enabled
to breathe by its power of projecting them from the orifice of its
tube.

If the reader can procure a group of living Serpulse and a little
sea water, he is strongly advised to do so, as he will understand
their structure far better than can be the case if he merely refer
to books. The creatures can be procured at any of the numer-
ous shops in which aquaria are sold, and as they are plentiful on
our own coast, they can be procured at a very cheap rate. They
are terribly apt to die, unless the purity of the water be carefully
preserved ; but even in that case they can be dissected, and will
afford lovely objects for the microscope. There is always an

SERTOLI. 417

abundance of Serpulse in the aquarium house at the Zoological
Gardens, and the keeper is quite willing to give any advice, as to
the management of these interesting annelids.

Supposing, then, that a group of Serpulse has been procured, it
should be placed in the aquarium close to the glass, and, if pos-
sible, the vessel should be one with flat sides, the ordinary fish-
globes giving a distorted image. A magnifying -glass should
then be fixed so as to command the orifices of the tubes, and all
will be ready. It is necessary to fix the glass, because the Serpu-
lse are strangely sensitive beings, and retreat into their tubes at
the slightest alarm. If even a hand be moved suddenly, though
at some little distance, the Serpulas shoot back into their tubes as
if propelled by springs, the feathery tentacles collapsing, and the
beautiful operculum closing up the entrance.

This lightning-like rapidity of movement is caused by a won-
derful array of hooks on the front portion of the body. These
hooks are placed on the foot-warts which edge that part of the
body, and are wonderfully adapted for catching the membrane
that lines the tube. The botanist who looks at such a group as
is now before me in the microscope would be instantly reminded
of the seed-vessels of the " wait-a-bit" thorn, with its double array
of hooked prickles. Each hook is rendered still more effective
by the six or seven teeth into which its inner edge is cut, so that
the most formidable array of hooks that the ingenuity of anglers
ever devised, and named with appellatives as strange as their
shapes, would appear quite harmless by the side of the Serpula's
hooks, could they only be magnified to proportionate size. One
bunch of these most formidable hooks would seem to be all-suf-
ficient for the purpose, but when it is remembered that every foot-
wart has its hooked armatures, amounting to fourteen or fifteen
hundred in number, the power of the creature's hold ceases to be
surprising.

Perhaps the reader may ask how the animal ever contrives to
push itself out of the case at all, seeing that it is held by such
a grasp. A farther look through the microscope shows that the
hooks are affixed to long tendinous bands, of great delicacy, but
at the same time of great strength, which enable the animal to
protrude the hooks so as to seize the membrane, and to with-
draw them when their purpose has been served. The dark back-
ground illumination shows the formation of the hooks in a very
clear and beautiful manner.

D D

418 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

If possible, the observer should preserve specimens of the
hooks for the microscope. He will not want for examples, as
the creatures have a habit of coming out of their tubes and dy-
ing on the floor of the aquarium, to the great discomfiture of the
owner. I find that Deane's gelatine answers very well for the
purpose, and the specimens which have just been mentioned are
now in perfect preservation, after having been in the gelatine for
some six years.

It is very curious to watch the different methods by which the
Serpula protrudes and withdraws itself. When it retires into the
tube, it vanishes so quickly that the eye can not follow its move-
ments, but when it protrudes itself, it does so in a very deliberate
manner, seeming to feel its way cautiously toward the light, and
to be ready to dart back again with or without reason.

The organs by means of which it protrudes itself are placed
close to those which withdraw it. Through the foot-warts pro-
ject a number of stiff, transparent bristles, which are wonderfully
like the many-barbed spears of savage nations. I have an arrow
of the Tonga Islands which is almost an exact reproduction of a
foot-bristle of the Serpula, saving that wood and bone are substi-
tuted for the purer material of the bristle. The shaft runs quite
straight, but toward the tip the bristle is flattened and widened
into a head just like that of a spear. The head has a very slight
curve, is sharply pointed, and is armed with a double row of barbs
on the edge. A great number of these bristles are clustered to-
gether, so that their united force is really considerable.

Supposing that the animal is fully expanded, and that the ob-
server has succeeded in placing his eye to the glass without
alarming the sensitive creature, he will see a wonderful sight.
In its way there is nothing which surpasses in beauty the ex-
panded gill- tuft of a Serpula in perfect health. The long feathery
gills radiate from the tube in a curve which combines grace and
force in no ordinary degree, while the beautiful colors that glow
as the blood courses through their translucent substances are far
beyond the power of description.

One use of the gills is evident enough. They serve for respi-
ration. But they also answer another purpose, and aid the ani-
mal in procuring food. Being necessarily stationary, it can not
roam about in search of food, and its appetite is so great that it
would soon die were it to depend for subsistence on the nourish-
ment which might be brought within its reach by the waves.

SERPUL^E. 419

If a tolerably powerful glass can be brought within the neces-
sary focal distance, it will be seen that the exterior of the gill-
tufts is covered with wonderfully delicate filaments, or cilia, as
they are technically named, which are continually waving in reg-
ular ripples. Their movement constitutes a sharp current of
water, which not only washes against the gills and furnishes the
requisite supply of air for the regeneration of the blood, but car-
ries the water downward into the mouth, which opens at the bot-
tom of the gill-tufts. In the water is always a bountiful supply of
minute animal organisms, together with other substances, which,
although microscopically small, are in the aggregate sufficient to
feed the Serpula. This current is kept continually flowing as
long as the tentacles are protruded, and thus the creature is en-
abled to breathe, is supplied with nourishment, and the tube is
kept clean by the water current which is perpetually rushing
through it. .

We now come to that wonderful portion of the animal which
is called by naturalists the "operculum," and which is popularly
and rightly known as the "stopper." This is the conical ap-
pendage which hangs from the tube, and is used in closing its
mouth when the gills have been withdrawn. The operculum is
known to be a development of one of the antenna?, the other an-
tenna being small, slender, and without any such appendage. To
systematic naturalists the operculum is one of the most valuable
parts of the animal, as it is often found in the tube in good pres-
ervation long after all the softer parts of the animal have disap-
peared. We can learn but little from the tube, as it is very sim-
ilar in animals belonging to different genera. The value of the
operculum was detected by Dr. Philippi, and has been corrobo-
rated by Dr. Baird, who has made great use of it in some valua-
ble papers on specimens of Serpula? which are now in the British
Museum.

In one genus, Eupomatus, for instance, the operculum is fur-
nished with a number of movable spikes. In one species, Eupo-
matus Boltoni, these spikes are about twenty in number, and are
hard, flat, and calcareous. Their form is very much like that of
a hedger's bill-hook, except that they are furnished in the inner
edge with several bold tooth-like projections. These spikes are
called by Philippi horns or cornua, and are always deeply toothed,
whatever may be the species. The very appropriate name, Eu-
pomatus, is formed from two Greek words, and signifies "beauti-

420 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

ful lid," in allusion to the elegant structure of the operculum and
its complement of horns.

In another genus, which has been called Placostegus, the oper-
culum is calcareous, flat, and rounded, looking so like the opercu-
lum of some aquatic mollusc that it might easily be mistaken for
that object. The genus is so named on account of the shape of
the operculum, and the word is of Greek derivation, signifying
Plate-roofed.

One species of this genus, Placostegus carinatus, is remarkable
for a peculiarity which has been brought forward by Dr. Baird,
in a paper read before the LinnEean Society in April, 1864. " I
wish particularly to bring before the notice of the Society the
fact that the animal gives out a beautiful dye or color. The
specimens which were the subjects of my examination had been
for a number of years in the British Museum, some having been
placed there in 1845, and others in 1847. Notwithstanding their
having been so long dry, when softened in water, taken out of
the tubes and placed in spirits of wine, they imparted to the
liquid a beautiful and delicate red tint."

The specific title of carinatus, or keeled, is given to the animal
because its tube has a decided keel or ridge upon its upper sur-
face. The color of the animal is blue, and the fan-like tuft of
gills is blue banded with white. An allied species, Placostegus
latiligulatus, is remarkable for the shape of its tube, which is de-
fended at the orifice by a kind of pent-house or hood, which pro-
jects boldly from the upper edge, just like the peak of a boy's
cap.

Another genus of Serpulse, called Cymospira, has the opercu-
lum horny, elliptical, and furnished with two or more large
toothed horns, which are generally placed near the hinder edge.
Some of the species are very large — one, which is in the British
Museum, being as thick as a man's finger, and being inhabited
by a Serpula three inches in length, and more than a quarter of
an inch in diameter. Sometimes the horns are long and boldly
projecting, and sometimes the tube has a pointed projection like
the hood which has already been mentioned. One of the short-
horned species which was procured from Swain's Eeefs, on the
eastern coast of Australia, was always so imbedded in corals and
madrepores that the true shape of its tube can not be ascertained.

Perhaps the most extraordinary example of the operculum is
furnished by the genus Pomatostegus, in which the operculum is

SERPULJE — SPIRORBIS. 421

made in three stories, each smaller than that below it, so that it
bears a distant resemblance to the fusee of a watch. In the Brit-
ish Museum is a fine 'example of this genus Pornatostegus Bower-
banh'i), in which the operculum rises like the conventional tower
of Babel, all the stories being devoid of horns, but covered with
short hairs of a fibrous nature. If the reader should happen to
be acquainted with conchology, he can form a very good idea of
this remarkable operculum by taking up the similar organ in
any species of solarium, or staircase- shell, except that in the Ser-
pula the stories of the operculum are distinct, and not formed by
successive whorls.

The operculum of the animal which is supposed to be under
examination does not present any of these singular appendages,
but is more or less conical, grooved above in a radiated form, and
horny in substance. It is, however, a very beautiful object, if
only for the elegant shape, which remains after the softer parts
have perished, and is in form so like a wine-glass with beautifully
fluted sides, that Dr. Johnston has remarked that it might serve
as a pattern for that article.

There is another marine annelid which constructs calcareous
tubes, and which is sufficiently interesting to warrant a short no-
tice. If the reader should happen to have in his possession a
piece of stone, or an oyster-shell, that has been for some time im-
mersed in the sea, or if he has a piece of the large tangleweed
that is so popular as a barometer, he will see that upon the sur-
face are certain tiny calcareous tubes, scarcely thicker than hairs,
and rolled spirally so as to form flat circular objects about as
large as pins' heads. They are firmly fixed to the objects on
which they are placed, and are often thought to be the earlier
forms of the serpula.

These, however, are distinct animals, called Spirorbis by natu-
ralists, who have noticed that their spiral tubes bear a great re-
semblance to the planorbis shell, which is so plentiful in our riv-
ers and ponds. A tolerably powerful magnifying-glass is needed
before the real nature of the Spirorbis can be made out ; but a
short examination will show that not only is the little worm fur-
nished with gills, or branchias which closely resemble those or-
gans in the serpula, but that, like that animal, it can shut up its
tube with an operculum of a conical shape.

422 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

Another example of a submarine builder may be found in
the well-known Terebella of our coasts, sometimes known by
the name of Shell-binder. Sandy shoals are the best spots for
the Terebella, and in many places there is scarcely a spare yard
of sand without its inhabitants. Like the serpula, the Terebella
constructs tubes, but, unlike that animal, it makes the tubes of a
soft and flexible texture, although the materials which it employs
are far harder than those which are used by the serpula. The
Terebella has the art of making its submarine tubes of sand,
which it agglutinates together with such wonderful power, that,
if Michael Scott's impish familiar had only been acquainted with
natural history, he might soon have learned the art of making-
ropes of sea-sand, and have turned the tables on his master.

Should any of my readers be desirous of finding the habitation
of a Terebella, he may easily do so by repairing to the nearest
sandy shore, and looking under every large stone or piece of
rock. There he will probably find some loose tufts of sandy
threads, which are fixed to the mouth of a flexible tube, made
of the same materials. This tube is the habitation of the Tere-
bella, and by means of a crowbar and a chisel the animal may
generally be procured, together with its home. There are, how-
ever, plenty of deserted tubes, and I have often been sadly disap-
pointed by finding that, after a long and laborious digging, noth-
ing but the empty tube was to be found.

Supposing, however, that a specimen is obtained in an unin-
jured state, the observer can easily watch its method of house-
building by ejecting it from its tubular home, placing it in a ves-
sel filled with sea- water, and supplying it with a handful of sand.
As clearness of the water is an essential part of success, shell-sand
is the best material that can be supplied, and it will be safer to
wash the sand thoroughly before placing it in the vessel. A
large rough stone should also be placed in the vessel, as the ani-
mal always likes to lurk behind some sheltering object while it is
engaged in the task of house-building.

Like many other creatures, the Terebella is a night-worker, and
during the hours of daylight will retire behind the stone, and
crouch in the darkest corner, as if to repose itself after the violent
struggles and gyrations which it enacts when it is first taken out
of the tube. Until noon is passed, the only sign of life will be
the slight movement of the many tentacles which surround the
upper lip ; but, as the sun declines, the tentacles begin to move

THE TEREBELLA. 423

more rapidly, and as if they had some purpose to fulfill. In the
evening the worm is in full work ; and as Professor Rymer Jones
has given a clear and graphic description of its proceedings, I can
not do better than transfer his account to these pages. After re-
marking on the general habits of the creature, and describing the
tentacles, he proceeds as follows :

" They," i. e., the tentacles, " are now spread out from the orifice
of the tube like so many slender cords. Each seizes on one or
more grains of sand, and drags its burden to the summit of the
tube, there to be employed according to the service required.
Should any of the tentacula slip, the same organs are again em-
ployed to search eagerly for the lost portion of sand, which is
again seized and dragged toward its destination.

" Such operations are protracted during several hours, though
so gradually as to be apparently of little effect; nevertheless, on
resuming inspection next morning, a surprising elongation of the
tube will be discovered ; or, perhaps, instead of a simple accession
to its walls, the orifice will be surrounded by forking threads of
sandy particles agglutinated together.

"The architect has now retired to repose; but, as evening
comes, its activity is renewed, and again at sunrise a farther pro-
longation has augmented the extent of its dwelling.

" At first sight the numerous tentacula seem only so many long,
cylindrical, fleshy threads of infinite flexibility.

" On examining them, however, more attentively, we see that
in exercising their special function, the surface which is applied to
the foreign objects becomes flattened into twice or thrice its ordi-
nary diameter; and while conveying the sandy materials to the
tube, these are seized and retained in a deep groove, which almost
resembles a slit; in fact, the tentaculum becomes a flat, narrow
ribbon, folding longitudinally in different places to hold the par-
ticles securely.

"Although these organs, when contracted, are collected into a
brush scarcely double the thickness of the animal's body, so enor-
mous is their extensibility that they can be stretched out to the
length of four inches, or half the length of the body, thus sweep-
ing the area of a circle eight inches in diameter.

"A thin internal coating, resembling silk, lines the whole tube,
and at the same time serves as a real cement to unite and strength-
en its innumerable parts. This silk-like material is derived from
a glutinous slime, which exudes from the surface of the body of
the Terebella.

424 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

"Notwithstanding the unrivaled expertness and expedition
with which this Annelidan advances its work, it has never been
observed to resume possession of its tube when once forsaken.
To obtain the shelter of a new dwelling in place of the old, its la-
bors are invariably recommenced from the foundation."

"In Terebella nebulosa," writes Dr. Williams, "the tentacula con-
sist of hollow, flattened tubular filaments, furnished with strong
muscular parietes, each tentacle forming a band which may be
rolled longitudinally into a cylindrical form, so as to inclose a
hollow cylindrical space if the two edges of the band meet, or a
semi-cylindrical space if they imperfectly meet. This inimitable
mechanism enables each filament to take up and firmly grasp, at
any point of its length, a molecule of sand, or, if placed in a linear
series, a row of molecules. But so perfect is the disposition of the
muscular fibres at the extreme free end of each filament that it is
gifted with the twofold power of acting on the sucking and the
muscular principle. "When the tentacle is about to seize an ob-
ject, the extremity is drawn in, in consequence of the sudden re-
flux of fluid in its hollow interior; by this movement a cup-
shaped cavity is formed, in which the object is securely held by
atmospheric pressure ; this power is, however, immediately aided
by the contraction of the circular muscular fibres. Such, then,
are the marvelous instruments by which these peaceful worms
construct their habitations, and probably sweep their vicinity for
food."

There are many species of Terebella, each remarkable for
some peculiarity in the structure of its habitation. On the east-
em coast of England, the preceding species seems to be more
plentiful, and affords a notable instance of the manner in which
stubborn materials can be rendered useful. Some of our coasts,
however, are plentifully stocked with the Shell-binder Tere-
bella {Terebella conchilega), a creature which has earned its well-
deserved name from its curious habit of choosing broken shells
for the construction of its tube. This being the case, it is evident
that the creature will be most abundant on those shores where
shells are most plentiful, and that it may usually be found on
those parts of our coast where the sand is almost wholly com-
posed of shells.

The tube resembles in texture that of the preceding species, but
it is rather firmer, owing to the superior size of the material with

THE SHELL-BINDER TEREBELLA. 425

which it is built. Generally the fragments of shell are very
small, no larger, indeed, than those of which the well-known shell-
sand is composed. But, in many instances, the Terebella has
been known to choose shells in an entire state, and thus to give
its tube a very extraordinary aspect.

The process of tube-making is conducted with much rapidity.
Supposing that, as is often the case, a storm has arisen, and wash-
ed away the projecting portion of the tube, the Terebella sets to
work to make a new portion in lieu of that which has been de-
stroyed. Spreading out its long and delicate tentacles in all di-
rections, it brings the materials toward its mouth, and always ap-
portions the number of tentacles employed to the load which is to
be carried. Having brought the materials within reach, it ar-
ranges them in regular circles, agglutinating them together with
some secretion which has the property of hardening under water
into a gelatinous substance. The union of these two materials —
namely, the gelatinous secretion and the shells which are fastened
to it — gives to the tube the two needful qualities of strength and
flexibility.

Small particles of shell are generally affixed by the whole of
their surface, but the large pieces are only fastened by one edge,
so that a tube that is made wholly of large fragments looks as if
it were covered with scales, like those of a serpent.

It is a remarkable fact that the Terebella does not form tubes
during the early portions of its life, but swims about freely, like
the nereis and other marine annelids. It has a head, eyes, feet,
and antennas, and roams about at will; whereas, in its perfect
state, it has neither head, nor eyes, nor antennas, nor true feet, the
last-mentioned organs being modified into the tufts of hooks and
bristles by means of which it moves up and down its tube. The
reader may perhaps remember that the barnacles and many other
stationary marine animals are free during their preliminary epochs,
and only become fixed when they attain the perfect form. To
our minds, the former seems the more perfect, and certainly the
more agreeable state of existence ; but we can not measure the
feelings of such an animal by. our own, and may be sure that the
creature enjoys existence as much while shut up in a tube as
when roaming the ocean at liberty.

Another species, Terebella figulus, sometimes called the Pot-
ter, prefers mud as the material for its dwelling, and contrives to

426 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

make the dark sea-mud so adhesive that it is capable of being
formed into a tube.

As may be easily imagined, this tube is extremely fragile, and
can not be removed entire from the water without the exercise of
much care, its own weight being mostly sufficient to tear it asun-
der. The walls of the tube are tolerably thick, and the tube it-
self is of some size, measuring nearly half an inch across, and is
always found to be protected by the earth upon which it is placed.
It is a rather curious fact that the tentacles of this species are of
extraordinary length, extending for some eight or nine inches be-
yond the entrance of the tube, the animal itself measuring little
more than four inches in length.

The last species of Terebella that will be mentioned is a very
small and very remarkable species. It has been appropriately
termed the Weaver Terebella {Terebella textrix) from the curi-
ous submarine home which it makes.

Not content with using the glutinous secretion as a means for
binding together the muddy particles of which the tube is made, it
spins a kind of web, bearing some resemblance to that of the spi-
der, and being quite a complicated piece of work. This web is
composed of many threads, which are very strong, but are also
very fine, and, in consequence, are almost invisible when in the
water, and their substance is quite translucent, like the threads of
isinglass. The threads encircle the body, and as it is only made
in the month of May, when the eggs are deposited, it is in all
probability employed more for the sake of guarding the eggs
than protecting the body.

The tube of the Weaver Terebella is very small, not sufficing
to cover more than half the body. The worm seems to be more
independent of its tube than is usually the case, frequently vacat-
ing and returning to it, and sometimes making two or three tubes
near each other, and living in any of them which it may happen
to prefer at the time.

We now come to a group of tube-building annelids which are
called Sabella), because they live in the sand, and in most cases
form their tubes of that material. The general appearance of the
tube is extremely variable. In some cases it bears so great a re-
semblance to the dwelling of the serpula that a practiced eye is
needed to discover the distinction.

THE SABELLA. 427

One very conspicuous species is the Trumpet Sabella (Sabella
tubularia), which is generally found attached to stones or shells.
The material of which it is made is that hard, calcareous matter
which is employed by the serpula, and at first the two tubes seem
to be exactly alike. A more detailed examination will, however,
show that it is not twisted like that of the serpula, but is nearly
straight, looking very much like the military trumpet, or "tuba,"
of the ancient Romans. In some cases this tube attains consider-
able length, measuring eight or nine inches from tip to mouth.
It is a solitary animal, and, as far as is yet known, is never found
grouped in masses, like many allied species.

The gill-fan of this species is exceedingly beautiful, being white,
dotted profusely with scarlet, and expanding into a graceful feath-
ery coronet. Although the resemblance to the serpula is very
close, the animal may easily be distinguished by the absence of
the beautiful operculum or stopper, which forms so conspicuous a
feature in the serpula.

Perhaps the most plentiful species of this genus is the com-
mon Sabella (Sabella alveolaria), which may be found in count-
less myriads on many of our coasts. On several sandy shores,
especially those of the southern coast, the wanderer by the sea
may perceive masses of hard, agglutinated sand, pierced with in-
numerable holes. These masses are of great size, and in some
places are strong enough to bear the pressure of a foot, though in
others a slight push with the hand is sufficient to detach a portion.

If this perforated sand be closely examined, it will be seen to
consist of a vast number of tubes, which are fixed together, and
are farther consolidated by sand which has washed over them,
and lodged between them. When the water covers the sand
mass, a delicate feathery tuft is seen to protrude from each hole,
so that the general aspect is full of beauty. These tufts are the
tentacles of the Sabella, and when examined with a microscope
of moderate power, each tentacle is seen to be composed of a cen-
tral shaft, with projecting teeth or fringes on both sides. There
are about eighty of these tentacles, and as they are extremely flex-
ible and always in motion, their appearance is peculiarly elegant.

Nothing is easier than to examine the structure of this Sabella,
though the task of isolating a single tube is not an easy one. A
penknife will soon break up the tube, and a pair of forceps will
easily pull out the inhabitant, in spite of the array of bristles and

428 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

hooks wherewith it clings to its habitation. It is but a little
creature in point of length, but in point of width it nearly fills
the diameter of the tube. The extremity of the body, however,
is very small and slender, and is doubled back upon itself, with
its tip pointing to the mouth of the tube.

The structure of the tube is extremely variable. Some indi-
viduals seem to give all their endeavors toward making their
dwelling as long and strong as possible, while others are content
with a tube which is barely long enough to shelter the whole
body. They work with great rapidity, and, when confined in an
aquarium, will build their sandy homes nearly as well as if they
were at liberty in the sea. Many interesting experiments have
been made upon their modes of working, and by a j udicious sup-
ply of different substances they may be forced to build tubes of
various colors and forms.

Very little care is required in keeping the Sabella in the aqua-
rium. The beautiful little worm requires no feeding, and the
only precaution that is needed is to see that the water is pure.
All dead animals should be carefully removed from the aquari-
um, as they are sure to putrefy very quickly, and the noxious
gases evolved in that process will soon destroy all the other in-
habitants.

Generally, when the Sabella feels ill, it is obliging enough to
come out of its cell and die, in full sight ; but now and then one
of them will retreat to the bottom of its cell and die there, in
which case it is as noisome and as difficult to discover as a dead
rat behind the wainscot. Still, although the number of apertures
in a single group of Sabella tubes renders it difficult for the pos-
sessor to identify the particular tube in which the defunct worm
may be lying, its presence can generally be detected by a kind of
whitish growth that appears at the mouth of the tube, and that
tells its tale to an experienced eye. The best plan of getting out
the inmate is by a slender wire hooked at the end. This can be
pushed down to the very bottom of the cell, when a twist of the
wire will mostly secure the dead worm, and the nuisance may
thus be removed.

Another species belonging to this genus, the Straight Sabel-
la {Sabella unispira), is remarkable for the form of its tube, which
is nearly cylindrical, and scarcely possesses any curve at all.

There is another group of tube-making marine annelids which

THE SILKWORM AND THE FAN AMPHITRITE. 429

are remarkable for the transparency of their newly-constructed
dwellings. Of these, a very singular example is found in the
Silkworm Amphitrite {Amphitrite bombyx).

The reader will remember that one, at least, of the Terebella?
can make a structure which is as transparent as isinglass, and will
not, therefore, be surprised to find that another annelid possesses
similar powers. The tube of the Silkworm Amphitrite is longer
than the body, and is made entirely of the gelatinous secretion
which in most of the species is used as a cement for fastening to-
gether the sand, shells, mud, and other materials of which the tube
is formed. In this creature, however, the secretion is so plentiful
that it forms the whole of the tube.

Nor does it content itself with a single tube, but forms several,
one after the other. When first made, the tube is so beautifully
transparent that the body of the inhabitant can be seen almost as
plainly as through glass ; but in process of time it becomes in-
crusted with mud and sand, and almost looks as if it were made
of very dirty leather. The average length of an adult specimen
is three inches, and its beautiful gill-fan is decorated with brown
and yellow. As is the case with most of the tube-inhabiting
worms, it is a very timid creature, jerking itself into the tube on
the least alarm, and contracting the orifice after it has retired into
seclusion.

Another species, the Fan Amphitrite {Amphitrite ventila-
brum), forms a long and tough tube, which is apparently made of
shoe-leather, but which is really formed from mud and the cement
which is secreted by the animal. Mr. Bymer Jones has very lu-
cidly described the mode of construction: "We will suppose a
specimen, with its plume fully expanded, in a jar filled with its
native element. In this condition, if a drop of liquid mud be
dropped from above into the water so as to disturb its cleanliness,
the animal immediately begins to arouse itself, and all the thou-
sands of cilia that fringe its branchial plumules are discovered to
be in vigorous activity, collecting by their incessant action the
diffused muddy particles into a loose mass, which is soon per-
ceived visibly accumulating in the bottom of the funnel. Mean-
time the neck, or first segment of the body, rising unusually high
above the orifice of the tube, exhibits two fleshy lobes or trowels,
beating down the thin edges as they fold and clasp over the mar-
gin, like our fingers pressing a flattened cake against the palm of
the hand.

430 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

"During these operations the muddy materials are seen descend-
ing between the roots of the fans toward the trowels, while another
organ, perhaps the mouth, is also occupied, it may be, in com-
pounding the preparation with adhesive matter. As the bulk of
the muddy mass diminishes, the activity of the worm abates ; it
is soon succeeded by repose, and then the tube is found to have
received evident prolongation."

The gill-fans of this species are most lovely, forming a nearly
complete funnel by their regularly radiating arrangement, and
being colored gorgeously with scarlet, green, brown, and gold.

Then there is the Funnel Amphitrite {Amphitrite infundi-
bulum), so called because the tentacles are so perfect in shape that,
when fully spread, they form a circular funnel, in which scarcely
the slightest break is perceptible. This funnel is rendered more
complete by the curious fact that in each half of the fan the
tentacles are united by a delicate and transparent web, reaching
nearly to their tips. The prevailing color of these beautiful fans
is purple, darkest toward the tips, and changing gradually to
chestnut at the base.

This is not a plentiful species, and is mostly obtained by means
of the dredge or drag, which tears up a portion of the ground,
and brings with it the Funnel Amphitrite and its dwelling. This
is of a tubular shape, and generally black, with a slight mixture
of green. The color, however, is very variable, and depends much
upon the age of the tube; for, when freshly made, it is nearly as
transparent as that of the previous species. There are other spe-
cies of Amphitrite, all of which are interesting, but which our
diminished space will not admit.

Should the reader happen to be an entomologist, he will readily
call to mind the tiny cylindrical cases that are made by certain
lepidopteran larvee, belonging to the great family Tineidre, and
which are found so plentifully upon the leaves of oak, hazel, and
other trees. If he should happen to be something of an aquarian
naturalist, and fond of looking for marine curiosities, he may find
attached to submarine plants certain little cylindrical cases which
are wonderfully like those of the moths. They are very small '
indeed, scarcely thicker than the shaft of an ordinary pin, and
measuring scarcely more than the eighth of an inch in length.
Their color is pale brown, their surface is rough, and they are
stuck upon the sea-weed in great confusion, without the least at-
tempt at arrangement.

THE CADDIS SHRIMP — THE BEAVER. 431

These are the habitations of a very small crustacean {Cerapus
tubularis), properly called the Caddis Shrimp, because the tube
which the creature makes is analogous to that which is formed
by the caddis larvae. The animal which inhabits this case is a
curious little being, very like the long-bodied, long-legged ca-
prellae, that are so plentiful among sea-weeds, and furnished with
two pairs of long and stout antennae, and two pairs of grasping
feet. As the tube is too short to contain the entire animal, the
long antennae are always protruded, and occasionally the powerful
grasping feet are also thrust out of the opening.

The antennae are continually flung forward and retracted in a
manner that reminds the observer of the movements of the acorn
barnacle, each grasp being evidently made for the purpose of
arresting any passing substance that may serve for food. This
remarkable little crustacean is generally found upon the well-
known alga which produce the Carrageen, or Irish Moss (Chondrus
crispus). It will not, however, be found upon those plants which
can be plucked by hand, but resides in deeper water, so that the
best method of procuring it is to go out in a boat, throw the drag
overboard, and then examine the algae which are torn from their
attachments.

CHAPTER XXL
social habitations.

SOCIAL MAMMALIA.

The Beaveh. — 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. — Its Locality and Structure. —
Use of a subterranean Passage. — How Beavers are Hunted. — Curious Supersti-
tion.— "Les Paresseux."

We now come to the Social Habitations, and give prece-
dence to those which are constructed by Mammalia.

Of the Social Mammalia, the Beaver ( Castor fiber) 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 favorable locality. The

432 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

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 indicate that
it is a water-loving creature, and that it is a better swimmer than
walker. The dense, close, woolly fur, 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 absolute necessity for the Beaver, and it is of the
utmost importance to the animal that the stream near which it
lives should not grow 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 level, or, at all events, to
prevent it from sinking below the requisite level.

If any modern engineer were asked how to attain such an ob-
ject, he would probably point to the nearest water-mill, and say
that the problem had there been satisfactorily solved, a dam hav-
ing 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. Engrav-
ings 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.

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

THE BEAVEK AND ITS 1I0ME.

THE BEAVER. 435

its chisel-like teeth cutting a bold groove completely 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 something 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, em-
ploying 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
illustration. In the Zoological Gardens may be seen many ex-
cellent examples of timber which has been cut by the Beaver :
the logs and cut stumps which are given in the illustration were
sketched from those objects.

The next part of the task is to make these logs into a dam.
]STow, whereas some persons have endeavored 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 extreme, and have denied the existence of a regularly
built dam, saying that it is entirely accidental, and caused by 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 acknowl-
edged 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 clam 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 inferred 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.

•±36 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

The dam is formed, not by forcing the ends of the logs into the
bed of the river, but by laying them horizontally, 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 wa-
ter 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 com-
pletely 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 allu-
vium. 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 overtops 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
farther 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 re-
quired 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 communi-
cating with it by means of subterranean passages, one entrance of

THE BEAVER. 437

which passes into the house or " lodge," as it is technically named,
and the other into the water, so far below the surface that it can
not 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 resemble 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 in-
terior dimensions, the exterior measurement being much greater,
on account of the great thickness of the walls, which are continu-
ally strengthened with mud and branches, so that, during the se-
vere 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 practiced
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 aperture. As soon as they are satis-
fied, they cut away the ice and stop up the opening, so that if the
Beavers should be alarmed, they can not 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 Beavers. This is not a favorite
task with the hunters, and is never undertaken 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 careful not to
spill any blood, as, if they do so, the rest of the Beavers take
alarm, retreat to the water, and can not be captured. They also
have a curious superstitious notion, 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 ceremon}', which is
wonderfully like the custom of our fishermen of spitting into the
mouth of the first fish they catch, and 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 do-

438 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

mestic 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 tun-
nels like those of our common water rat, to which they are close-
ly allied. These "paresseux" are always males, and it some-
times 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 comparatively easy task.

CHAPTER XXII.

SOCIAL BIEDS.

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 So-
cial Nest. — Average Number of Inhabitants. — Analogy with Dyak Houses. — En-
emies of the Sociable Weaver, the Monkey, the Snake, and the Parrakeet.

We now come to the Social Birds, one of which is as pre-
eminent among the feathered tribes as is the beaver among mam-
malia. This is the Sociable Weaver Bird, sometimes called
the Sociable Grosbeak {Philelcerus socius).

This species is allied to the Weaver Birds, some of which have
already been described, and makes a nest which is no whit infe-
rior to those which have already been mentioned. 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, measuring about
five inches in length, and is very inconspicuous, its color 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 architecture, and attracts
the attention of the most unobservant traveler. Few persons ex-
pect 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 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 made
will now be described.

THE SOCIABLE WEAVER BIRD.

439

Sociable Weaver Bird.

Large as is the domicile, and capable at last of containing a
vast number of parents and young, it is originally the work of a
single pair, and attains its enormous dimensions by the labors 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 (Aca-
cia giraffa), 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

440 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

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 wagons, which have to with-
stand such rough usage, the upright timbers of houses, and the
handles of tools, especially those which are intended for agricul-
tural 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 par-
ticular 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.

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 con-
sequence 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 travelers 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 mean time, arrived at the foot of the tree, but
could not see his intended prey. The unlucky Hottentot, how-
ever, 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 SOCIABLE WEAVER BIRD. 441

The man shrank back behind the nest, but his imprudent move-
ment 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 overpow-
ered hunger, and the animal was forced reluctantly to quit its post
and seek for water. The man then scrambled down the tree, and
made the best of his way homeward, little the worse for his im-
prisonment except the fright, and a skin scorched by long expo-
sure to the sun. The artist has introduced this little episode into
the illustration, because it enables the reader to judge of the enor-
mous 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 oc-
cur 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, besides the desert-
ed 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 can not fail to perceive the analogy between these so-
cial nests of the Weaver Bird ond 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 monkeys, which
are capable of sad depredations whenever they can find an op-
portunity. 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

4-12 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

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 insurmountable
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.

CHAPTER XXIII.

SOCIAL INSECTS.

Arrangement of Groups. — Nests of Polybia. — Curious Method of Enlargement. —
Structure of the Nests. — How concealed. — Various Modes of Attachment. — A cu-
rious Specimen. — The Hive-bee, 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 pro-
duced.— Theories of different Mathematicians. — Measurement of Angles. — A log-
arithmic 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 fa-
vorite Localities. — Difficulties of taking a Hornet's Nest. — Habits of the Insect. —
Mr. Stone's Method of taking the Nest. — The Synosca and its Habitation. — Beau-
tiful Nests in the British Museum. — Description of the Insect. — Nest of the Eu-
cheika. — Its external Form. — Curious Discovery in Dissection. — A suspended
Colony. — Conjectures respecting the Structure. — 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 Moth and
its beautiful social Nest. — Description of a Specimen from Wiltshire. — Illustration
of the Theory of Heat. — The Brown-tailed Moth and its Nest. — Social Habita-
tions of the Peach and Small Tortoise-shell Butterflies.

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

The reader will probably have noticed that several insects, es-
pecially those of the hymenopterous order, seem to have been
omitted in previous chapters, although they might fairly claim ad-
mission into the ranks of Builders, Pensiles, Burrowers, and Sub-
aquatics. The fact is, that some of them unite the characteristics

POLYBIA.

443

of several groups, and may therefore be placed in either of them.
For example, the South American wasp, which makes the nest
called popularly the "Dutchman's pipe," may be ranked either as
a builder, a pensile, or a social insect. In such cases, therefore, I
have endeavored to select that characteristic which seems to be
marked most strongly, and have arranged the insects accordingly.
Just as the hymenoptera are chief among the pensiles and the
builders, so are they chief among the Social Insects, and the spe-
cies 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.

Hw ■'•/"■" '' I

Polvbia.

In the British Museum there are some very remarkable nests
made by hymenopterous insects belonging to the genus Pohjbia,
several of which are drawn in the accompanying illustration. As

■i44 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

it was desirable to include more than 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 color as well as small in size that they would not of
themselves attract any attention. Their nests, however, are ex-
tremely interesting, as may be seen from the examples which are
figured in the illustration.

On the left hand may be seen a nearty spherical nest, which is
evidently hollow, and has cells both on the outside 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 cir-
cumstance connected with the nest. If it 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 outward, 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 sim-
ilarity in its aspect. This nest, however, is very much longer in
proportion to its width, and 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 co-
incides so completely with the color of the faded leaf that many
persons would overlook it unless their attention were specially
drawn toward it.

THE HIVE-BEE. 445

On the extreme right of the illustration, and in the upper cor-
ner, 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 habi-
tation of the Chartergus 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 sub-
stance, this similarity of aspect being evidently intended as a pre-
servative against the attacks of birds and other insect-loving creat-
ures, which would break up the nest, and eat the immature and
tender grubs. Most of the nests are fixed to leaves, and are dif-
ferent 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 fasten-
ed 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 bears a
singular resemblance to the nest of the fairy martin, which is
figured at page 330, though its materials are entirely different.
The nest is flask-shaped, and its base is fastened 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 Po-
hjhia scdula, and the specimen was brought from Brazil.

For the reasons which have been given at the beginning of
this chapter, the Hive-bee has been reckoned among the Social
Insects.

The Bee has always been one of the most interesting insects to
mankind on account of the direct benefit which it confers upon

4-±6

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

the human race. There are many other insects which are in re-
ality quite as useful to us, and, indeed, are indispensable, but which
we neglect because we are ignorant of their labors. The Bee,
however, furnishes two powerful and tangible arguments in its
favor, 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 a 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.

ftok

ikiiiillli

iil!

"1'L

■

The accompanying illustration shows the lower part of the in-
terior of a hive, which is supposed to be viewed through a plate

THE HIVE-BEE. 447

of glass set in the back. When the hive is in full operation, the
combs are so crowded with Bees that their structure can hardly
be seen; but in the illustration the Bees are supposed to have
gone away, with the exception of one individual.

I need not, in this place, repeat the well-known facts respect-
ing the constitution of the Bees, nor describe the duties of the
Queen, Drone, and Worker Bees. Suffice it to say that the for-
mer is the mother as well as the queen of the hive; that the
workers are undeveloped females, which are properly called neu-
ters ; 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 enables 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 conspicuous 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 repre-
sented as making her way toward 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 distinguished by the greater size
of the drone cell ; while the royal cell is totally unlike the nurs-
ery 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 the
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, but lives upon
an entirely different diet, and which is, apparently, of a more

44:8 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

stimulating character; and it is now well known that if a young
stud which has been hatched in one of the worker cells be re-
moved into the royal cell, and supplied with royal food, it be-
comes developed into a queen, and, in time, is qualified to rule
and populate a hive. This remarkable provision of nature is in-
tended 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
store-house and a nursery, it is also made to answer other pur-
poses. When the Bee seeks repose, it almost invariably creeps
into a cell, and buries itself deep therein, the whole head, thorax,
and part of the abdomen being hidden. If a 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 burning sulphur, they will be found to have vainly sought es-
cape from the suffocating vapor by forcing themselves into the
recesses of the empty cells.

As a 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 hor-
net are single, and are arranged horizontally, so that their cells
are vertical, with the mouths downward and the bases upward,
the united bases forming a floor on which the nurse wasps can
walk while feeding the young inclosed in the row of cells imme-
diately above them.

Such, however, is not the case with the Ilive-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 thim-
bles 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 tolerable 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,

THE HIVE-BEE. 449

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 hexag-
onal 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 ar-
rangement is employed, 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. Be-
fore doing so, I must acknowledge my thanks to the Rev. Walter
Mitchell, Vicar and Hospitaler 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 mentioned, so
that there are, of course, six sides, the transverse section of which
gives a perfect hexagon. Many years ago, 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 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. 1.

Some time afterward, Reaumur, thinking that this remarkable
uniformity of angle might have some connection with the won-
derful 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 Kcenig, 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 ma-
terial ?

Kcenig made his calculations, and found that the angles were
•109° 26' and 70° 34', almost precisely agreeing with the meas-
urements of Maraldi. The reader is requested to remember these

Ff

450

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

angles. Keaumur, on receiving the answer, concluded that the
Bee had very nearly solved the difficult mathematical problem,
the difference between the measurement and the calculation beino-
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 result 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 con-
tain, the wax is a rare and 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 mak-
ing the comb should be as little, and that of the honey contained
in it as great, as possible.

For a long time these statements remained uncontroverted.

THE HIVE-BEE. 451

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 mathematician, was not satisfied. The two re-
sults very nearly tallied with each other, but not quite, and he
felt that in a mathematical question precision was a necessit}^.
So he tried the whole question himself, and found Maraldi's
measurement correct, namely, 109° 28', and 70° 32'.

He then set to work at the problem which was worked out by
Kcenig, 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 oc-
cur? How could so excellent a mathematician as Kcenig make
so grave a mistake ? On investigation, it was found that no
blame attached to Kcenig, 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 toward 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
wiU be equal to V2, and EF, FG, GB, and BE, will be equal to
■y/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 mav
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 he has drawn the lozenge-shaped
figure which has just been described, let him draw upon card-
board 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 cardboard will fold into an exact model of a bee-cell, the three

452

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

lozenges which project from the sides forming the base, and the
others the sides. This cell will, of course, have very 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.

TIG.4

The best way of showing this beautiful structure is to make
two models, one to lie fiat 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 by cutting out the nine lozenge-
shaped pieces of cardboard, 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 farther 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 but-
tresses of architecture.

THE HIVE-BEE. 453

•

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 simi-
lar character, acts in precisely the same manner, and strengthens
the comparatively thin and yielding plates by flanges or angle-
irons.

Many inquirers have asked themselves how the Bee constructs
the comb, and on what principle it proceeds. To this question
there have been several answers, none of which appear to be sat-
isfactory. One ingenious entomologist remarked that, when the
Bee placed the claws of its fore feet against eacli 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, and then to
excavate a circular hole on one side, the interior of the hole be-
ing shaped like a concave lens. Eound 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 mean time,
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 as that
which they are presumed to explain.

In the first place, the Bee must strike perfect circles from cen-
tres the distance of which from each other must be accurately ad-
justed. Again, these centres must be so placed that the centre
of the circle sculptured on one side of the comb must be equidis-
tant from the centres of the three adjacent circles on the other
side — a problem of no easy accomplishment, even with the aid

■io-i HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

of rale 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 en-
tire 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 assume the hexagonal form
by equal pressure in all directions. Every one knows that cylin-
ders 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 mathematician and crystal-
lographer 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 dodecahedron
(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 crystalline substance, cleaves in this particu-
lar 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 marvelous 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 trees and branch-
es, and bear home in their mouths the bundles of woody fibres
which they have gnawed away. The upholsterer and leaf-cutter

THE HIVE-BEE. 455

Bees are indebted to the petals and leaves of various plants, and
various wood-boring insects make their homes of the woodj par-
ticles 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 pro-
duced 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, it 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 can
not 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 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 odor and flavor
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-

456 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

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 cir-
cumstances, the valve just allows the food to pass gently and grad-
ually into the stomach ;' but the violent effort which is made in
ejecting the food closes the valve, and only allows the honey to
flow upward through the mouth.

The office of the worker and drone cells is twofold — first, to act
as nurseries for the insects while passing through their prelimin-
ary 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 rapid-
ity. As soon as it has eaten its last larval meal, it spins a silken
cover 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 de-
voted to hardening and strengthening its limbs, it leaves the hive
and joins in the labors 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 en-
trance with a waxen door, which is air-tight, and serves to pre-
serve 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
crystallizes, and in that state is injurious to digestion. Moreover,
it is so extensively 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 hind-
er 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.

THE HORNET. 457

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 {Vespa crabro), 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 invariably built in
hollow trees, deserted outhouses, and places of a similar descrip-
tion. Whenever the Hornet takes up its residence in an inhabit-
ed house, as is sometimes the 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 ven-
omous. It is popularly said that three Hornets can kill a man ;
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.

Moreover, the Hornet is an irascible insect, and given to assault
those whom it fancies are approaching its nest with evil inten-
tions. 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 be 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 ac-
quaintance with the language of insects ; and no one who has
once been chased by these insects will willingly run the same
risk again.

Mr. S. Stone, whose interesting letter upon the wasp has al-
ready been mentioned, 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 similar to those which
have been mentioned in connection with the wasp. Within the
box the Hornets continued their labors, and a most beautiful nest
was produced, symmetrical in shape, and variegated with wonder-
fully rich colors. "Such a nest as that," writes Mr. Stone, "is
not produced by Hornets in a general way. They do not trouble
themselves to form much of a covering, especially when a small
cavitv in the head of a tree is selected, which is often the case.

458

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

The walls of the chamber they consider a sufficient protection for
the combs.

"If 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 colored woods, and such as form the most
striking contrasts, and place them so that the insects shall be in-
duced, nay, almost compelled to use them in the construction of
their nest. This is exactly what I did with reference to the nest
in question."

Knowing from experience the difficulty of assaulting a Hor-
net's nest, I asked Mr. Stone how he performed the task, and was
told that his chief reliance was placed on chloroform. Approach-
ing 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

THE HORNET. 459

aperture. A mighty buzzing immediately arises, but is soon si-
lenced 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
reapplied 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 interruptions.
Even if the insects did not interfere with the work, the labor 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 their domains. Fortunately, the
light from the lanterns seems to blind them, 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 im-
bedded in the tree, and cost no less than six hours of continuous
labor, the work of excavation having been begun at eight P.M.,
and the nest extracted at two A.M. 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 the dimensions 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 Sy-
nceca, this name being derived from two Greek words which sig-
nify sociality.

460 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

The nests of these insects have some resemblance to those of
certain Polybiae 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 en-
circling 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
color, 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.

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

The insect which made this nest is of a deep steel-blue color,
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 foot-stalk of moderate length.

The two remarkable nests which are figured in the large illus-
tration come from different parts of the world, but, as they are
similar in many respects, they are placed close to each other.

The long, flask-like nest was brought from Mexico by Owen
Eees, Esq., in 1834. Even before it was opened its structure was
evidently full of interest. The color is dull white, not unlike
parchment, and the texture of the materials is nearly as hard, stiff,
and close as that substance. 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.

NESTS OF SOCIAL LEPIDOPTERA.

CUKIOUS NEST. 463

So much for the exterior. On opening the nest, however, a
most singular state of things was discovered. A great number
of pupae, 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 per-
ceived. It is most probable that, as in the case of the procession-
ary moth, the caterpillars 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 pen-
sile home as soon as they have broken out of the pupal skin, be-
cause 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 color these wings might be was for a
long time a mystery. Mr. Westwood, who first opened a nest,
carefully dissected some of the pupae, and by cautiously softening
the withered membranes in warm water, succeeded in spreading
out the wings sufficiently to learn the general form of the ner-
vures and the shape of the " cells," as the spaces between the ner-
vures are named.

Specimens of the perfect insect have now been obtained, and
are seen to be butterflies closely resembling in shape the lovely
Heliconidae, which are so plentiful in Southern America, but of
very simple colors, the general hue being blackish-brown, diver-
sified by a broad, but indistinctly marked white band across the
wings. Examples of the nest have lately been sent to Vienna,
but any one who wishes to see the specimen from which the
above sketch and description were taken may do so by visiting
the museum at Oxford, where the perfect butterflies may also be
seen. The scientific name of the butterfly is Eucheira socialis.

Oisr the upper part of the same illustration may be seen a curi-
ous object, that looks something like a flattened pincushion fast-
ened to the branches. This is the nest of a social insect, and
is, I believe, a unique specimen. It was brought from Tropical

464 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

Africa by Vernon Wollaston, Esq., and is so remarkable as to
deserve a detailed description.

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 pro-
vision which is made for the exit of the inmates. Set upon dif-
ferent parts of the nest are thirteen or fourteen little conical pro-
tuberances, which do not project very far from the general sur-
face, and are quite inconspicuous. On examination, these prom-
inences are seen to be composed of stiff silken threads, which con-
verge to a point, precisely 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 destructive
insect, called by entomologists the Small Ermine Moth ( Ypono-
meuta padella), which is very plentiful in this country, and by
gardeners is thought to be much too plentiful. It can easily be
recognized 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.

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

SMALL EKMINE MOTH.

•165

mm

Small Ermine Moth.

pillars 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 clew led through the intricacies of Eosarnond'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 low-
ering 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 pro-
prietor 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 spar-
rows 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

Gg

±Q6 HOMES "WITHOUT HANDS.

birds literally dared not approach the insects ; for the silken
threads which traversed the branches in all directions were an ef-
fectual 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 marvelous
strength considering their tenacity, producing most uncomforta-
ble sensations when 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 clots along the back.

Another well-known British insect which constructs social
habitations is the Gold-tailed Moth (Porthesia chrysorrhcea), a
familiar and beautiful insect, with wings of soft downy plumage,
and snowy-white in color, 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 labors.

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 per-
fect thatch. When the larvae are hatched they retain their socia-
bility, and spin for themselves a common domicile. This house
is very remarkable. Viewed on the exterior, it is seen to be a
bag-like structure 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 horizontal 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 with-
in. 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 white, and very tough, cling-

PEACOCK AND SMALL TORTOISE-SHELL BUTTERFLIES. 467

ing 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 toward the end of summer, and, in conse-
quence, are forced to pass the winter in the larval condition, 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 inclose
layers of air between them, form a protection which is far warm-
er than would be obtained by a solid mass of silk measuring
twice the thickness of the three walls, together with their inter-
vening spaces.

There is an allied insect, popularly called the Brown-tailed
Moth (Porthesia auriflua), which spins a social nest that in many
respects resembles that of the Gold-tailed Moth. The nest, how-
ever, is scarcely so elegant, nor is the silken web so beautifully
delicate. Much, however, depends upon surrounding 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 sol-
id, as is needful for insects which are obliged to pass the winter
within them. There are, however, many caterpillars 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 b}^ the curi-
ous caterpillars which afterward assume the lovely and familiar
forms of the Peacock and Small Tortoise-shell Butterflies
(Vanessa To and Vanessa urticce). Great black masses of these cat-
erpillars 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 loosefy spun, and forming a kind of
net, with Ions; and irregular meshes.

466 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

CHAPTER XXIV.

SOCIAL INSECTS {Continued).

A curious Ant from India (Myrmica Kirbii) — 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 Py-
thon.— Their Mode of March. — Fatal Effects of the Sunbeams. — An extemporized
Arch. — Method of escaping from Floods — Site of their Habitation. — Modes of
destroying 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 Meth-
od of Attachment. — Variety of Polistes Nest. — Polistes aterrimus and its singular
Nest. — Beautiful Structure of an unknown Polistes.

Although several species of Ants have been mentioned under
the title of burrowing insects, there are many which possess very
interesting habits, and which may here take their place among
the creatures which build social habitations. Among them is a
curious insect inhabiting India, and discovered by Colonel Sykes,
the well-known naturalist, who called it Myrmica Kirbii.

This insect forms its nest on the branches of trees and shrubs,
and Colonel Sykes mentions that he has found their curious hab-
itation on the branches of the Kurwund shrub, Carissa Carandas,
and on the Mango-tree, Mangifera Indica.

The nests are more or less spherical, and are about as large as
an ordinary foot-ball. The material of which they are made is
cowdung, 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
can enter. On the 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 ev-
ery state of development, eggs in one, larvre in another, and pupa?
in a third. No provision seems to be laid up within the nest, so
that the inhabitants must depend on their daily excursions for
their food.

THE DRIVER ANT. 469

"When Colonel Sykes brought home the first nest he discover-
ed, he hung it to the tent-pole, preparatory to examining it jn the
morning. " In the night the men were awakened by repeated
punctures and general irritation of the skin, but the darkness pre-
vented them from discovering their tormentors, and they contin-
ued to toss and tumble in their beds for some hours in no very
complacent state of mind. At last they got up, dressed them-
selves, and abandoned the tent; but the evil was rather aggra-
vated than abated, as parts of their persons which had previously
escaped had now their share of suffering. At daylight they dis-
covered to their consternation that they were covered with minute
ants, which had filled their pantaloons, penetrated the sleeves of
their coats and every other part of their habiliments. On inspect-
ing the tent, they found the interior teeming with multitudes of
little angry beings, in busy progress, seeking to resent the out-
rage which had been committed on the community by the re-
moval of their abode."

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

Perhaps one of the most terrible of insects is that which is ap-
propriately called the Driver Ant of Western Africa (Anomma
arcens).

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 }7et been
discovered. The workers are uniform in color, 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 common red ant of our gardens. In the Brit-
ish 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 instinctively 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 pig-stye, they soon kill the
imprisoned inhabitants, whose tough hides can not protect them

470

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

from the teeth of the Driver Ants. Fowls they destroy in num-
bers, killing in a single night all the inhabitants of the hen-roost,
and, having destroyed them, have a curious method of devouring
them.

The Rev. Dr. Savage, who has experimented upon these formi-
dable 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 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 energetic insects. Numbers of them were employed in
smoothing 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

DRIVER ANTS. 471

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. Begin-
ning at the base of the beak, they contrived to pull out the feath-
ers one by one, until they stripped it regularly backward, 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 conse-
quently obliged to grub them up laboriously by the roots. The
nest 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 justified 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 per-
sonal observations of Dr. Savage, that the 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.

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 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
can not 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 creature,
that on their approach whole villages are deserted, and in extreme
cases the entire population is forced to take to the rivers, know-
ing 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.

472 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

The order of their marching is very curious, and is well de-
scribed by Dr. Savage :

"Their sallies are made in cloudy days, and in the night, chiefly
in the latter. This is owing to the uncongenial influence of the
sun, an exposure to the direct rays of which, especially when the
power is increased by reflection, is almost instantaneously fatal.
If 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, etc., affording sufficient shelter, the arch is dispensed 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.

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

"In cloudy days, when on their predatory excursions, or mi-
grating, 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 antennas, intertwining, form a
sort of network, that seems to answer well their object. When-
ever 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 for-
ward as before, in all the order of an intellectual military dis-
cipline."

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 im-
mediately deluged, and, but for a remarkable instinct which is
implanted in the insects, most of the Ants, and all the future
brood, would perish. As soon 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

DRIVER ANTS. 473

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 curious balls
was cleverly caught in a handkerchief, put iu 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 endeavor 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 heaping 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 the neighboring 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
immediately 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 com-
pleted, and fixed ready for the transit of insects ; 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.
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, wide-spread 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

474 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

chain is thus lengthened, until t"he 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 suspension 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 lad-
der, 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. Sul-
livan'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 direction, and by stretching out his body as far as possi-
ble, enable the pioneer of the main body to reach him, and thus
complete the chain of communication, by which the rest immedi-
ately crossed. It would be difficult to prove that this was not
reason."

Finding that the comparatively gradual action of fire 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 in-
stantaneously fatal. As for cold water, they seem to care little
for it ; having been immersed 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 vigor. 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 furiously 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 de-

DRIVER ANTS. 475

capitated 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.

" I 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 perpendicularly, 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 continued to
give signs of life for more than thirty-six hours after decapita-
tion. 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 tena-
cious 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 remem-
ber 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, travers-
ing 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 inter-
esting 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 about with their accustomed vivacity. I put
the bulb of a thermometer three inches under the soil in the sun
at midday, 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-

476 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

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 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 toward any vegetable matter they may wish to de-
vour), 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 subterranean 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 mentions an in-
sect found in Angola, and which is allied to the common cuckoo-
spit (Aphrophora spuraaria) 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 atmos-
phere, he proceeds as follows :

" Finding a colony of these insects busily distilling on a branch
of the Ricinus communis, or 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 rate of one drop in each
sixty-seven seconds, or about two ounces five and a half drams
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.

DRIVER ANTS. 4/ <

(i I 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 drams 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 every thing 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 unpracticed eye could not distinguish be-
tween 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
equaling 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 fairly fixed itself, its hold can not 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.
Besides the sharp points of the mandibles, they are farther 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 suffi-
ciently translucent to permit the articulation of the jaws to be
seen through it, when a very powerful 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

478 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

are slender and delicate, their grasping power is very great. Two >
of mv 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 disen-
gaging 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
any thing 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 straight-
way shrivel up in the heat.

In the collection of the British Museum may be seen a veiy re-
markable nest, which is made by some species of wasp at present
unknown.

The material of which it is formed is mud or clay, which is
worked by the insect until it. has attained a wonderful tenacity
and strength, and is rendered so plastic as to be worked nearly as
neatly as the waxen bee-cell. It is of rather a large size, measur-
ing about thirteen inches in length by nine in width, and filled
with combs. Unfortunately, in its passage to this country it was
broken and much damaged, but the fragments were collected and
skillfully put together by Mr. F. Smith, who has succeeded in re-
storing 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 oppor-
tunities 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 thick-
est, the reason for which is evident on inspecting the specimen.

The nest was found in a Guianian forest, near the Kiver Ber-
bice, suspended to a branch, which passed through a hole in the
solid wall of the nest. In the actual specimen the branch is want-
ing ; but in the illustration it has been restored, in order to show
the manner in which the winged artificers suspended their won-

THE MUD WASP.

479

derful home. As is always the case witli pensile nests, the foun-
dation is laid at the top, thus carrying out Dean Swift's sugges-
tion for a new patent in architecture. A large quantity of clay
is worked round the chosen branch, and made very strong, in or-
der 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.

Mud Wasp.

The combs are not fiat, like those of an ordinary wasp-nest, but
are very much curved, so that when the nest is laid open they al-
most follow the curve of the walls. This peculiar form of the
comb is shown in the illustration. The cells are not very large,

480 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

scarcely equaling 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 edge's 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 spe-
cies of Wasp will inhabit the same nest, and amicably work at the
same edifice. Entomologists have long been aware that two spe-
cies of Ant will dwell in the same nest, and live upon friendly
terms, although the association of the working part of the com-
munity is not voluntary, but compulsory.

The Ant which employs enforced labor is called the Amazon
Ant (Polyergus rufescens), and is tolerably common on the Con-
tinent. 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 mandibles which unfit
the insect for work, render it eminently capable of warfare. When,
therefore, a colony of the Amazon Ants is about to establish it-
self, 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 re-
cesses, in spite of opposition, and search every corner for their

THE AMAZON ANT. 481

spoil. This consists solely of the pupa? which will afterward be
developed into neuters, and vast numbers of the unconscious
young are carried off in the jaws of the conquerors. The right-
ful owners and relatives of the captured young can not 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 labors of the nest, just as they would have done
in their own home. The Amazon Ant seems to be utterly incap-
able of work ; and in one notable instance, when a number of
them were confined in a glass case, together with some pupae, they
were not only unable to rear the young, but could not even feed
themselves, so that the greater number died 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 pupse 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 wast-
ed, and that the lot of the " helots" — if they may be so called — is
precisely that for which they were made. The labors 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 labors are undertaken
as willingly in the one case as in the other.

They find themselves perfectly at home, and are in every re-
spect on a par with their so-called masters. In point of fact, how-
ever, the real masters in the nest are the slaves, for upon them the
x\mazons 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

Hh

482

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

but solitary 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 fresh im-
portations should be made as fast as the demand for workers ex-
ceeds the supply ; and it is really a wonderful thing that the Ama-
zon Ants should always select the pupas which will afterward 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 en-
slaves 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 (Myrmica paleata) has
been observed to act in this manner.

In the accompanying illustration are shown two remarkable
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.

1 2

Nests. Polistes Aterrima, etc.

The smaller, though more conspicuous nest, is formed by an in-
sect which is called Polistes aterrima, a name which is very appro-

SINGULAR NESTS. 483

priate 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 col-
or. 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 color.

The method of nidification which this species adopts is very pe-
culiar. The cells are formed with beautiful regularity, but are ar-
ranged in a very curious fashion. They are placed with their
mouths downward, as is frequently the custom with the cells of
hymenoptera, but are not quite perpendicular, inclining alternate-
ly to either side. Each cell is set rather lower than its predeces-
sor, so that the general effect is very peculiar, and gives to the
cell group a character which renders it at once recognizable.

The second nest which is represented in the same illustration
is scarcely so striking in appearance as the preceding, but is
equally interesting, and to many minds more so, because the
architect is at present unknown, and there is 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 col-
lections.

The color of the combs is a rather sombre brown, so that at a
little distance the whole group would easily escape notice, espe-
cially if it were buried in the depths of the forest, as is the case
with many similar nests. The cells 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 en-
veloped 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 inference is, therefore, that they were never intended to be
protected by a cover, but that they were intentionally exposed to
the air, as is the case with the habitations of Polistes and several
allied insects, whose homes will shortly be described.

484 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

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 gradually increase in width, so that
their weight, when filled with the young brood, must be consider-
able, and the strain on the upper part of the comb very great.
The manner in which the insect has met this difficulty is really
wonderful. It has not made the upper part of the comb to con-
sist of a solid mass, as is the case with the clay nest which has
just been described, but has utilized 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 different 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 color, the nest of an ordinary wasp, ex-
cept that the cells are smaller, and the material stronger ; but to-
ward 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 plait-
ing one end, just as ladies gather in the upper part of an apron.
The longitudinal folds will then represent the perpendicular par-
titions 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 popularly known as Carder Bees, be-
cause they prepare the materials for their nest in a manner simi.
lar to that which is employed in carding cotton wool or heckling
flax.

Several species of Carder Bee are known, all belonging to that

CARDER BEES. 485

familiar group of insects called Humble-bees. Among these, as
among Humble-bees in general, there is a great variety of color,
so that the same species has been called by different names, even
by skilled entomologists. For example, in Kirby's admirable
monograph of British Bees, no less than seven varieties of the
commonest species of Carder Bee (Bombus muscorum) are given as
separate species.

That such mistakes should be made is no matter of surprise
when we take into consideration the capriciousness with which
the colors of this species are distributed among its members.
Among the queen Bees, the abdomen is sometimes marked with
rings of yellow, black, and red, and is sometimes red at the base
and tip and black in the middle. The worker has usually a yel-
lowish 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 at the tip. The male Bee has generally the ab-
domen colored like the first-mentioned example of the worker,
but sometimes it is wholly black, and in many cases it is black ex-
cept the tip, which is dun. Indeed, these insects are so extremely
variable, that the only method of determining their true arrange-
ment is by taking a great number of nests, breeding the inmates,
and subjecting them not only to careful external examination,
but also to dissection of their internal anatomy.

The specific title " muscorum," i. e., " of the mosses," which is
given to this Bee, is due to the material of which the nest is usu-
ally made. It was generally thought to be 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 seen 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 bun-
dles, 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 grass was found the nest, which was
composed entirely of horse-hair. 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,

486 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

a Humble-bee took possession of the nest, and adapted it to her
own purpose. He was unfortunately unable to identify the spe-
cies by capturing 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, probably the Bombus pratorum.n

Moss, however, is the favorite 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 em-
ploy leaves, grass, or any other suitable material. Whatever
may be the material, the Bee always takes great pains to disen-
tangle the fibres, in order to be able to weave them in a sys-
tematic manner into the nest. This process is conducted by
means of the legs, the Bee seizing the fibre with her fore feet,
and passing 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 water-proof,
the insects line it with a very coarse, dark-colored 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.

PARASITIC NESTS. 487

CHAPTER XXV.

PARASITIC NESTS.

Various Parasites. — Parasitic Birds. — The Cuckoo and its Kin. — The Cow-bird
and its Nest. — Size of its Egg.— Comparison between the Cuckoo and the Ap-
teryx. — The ^Epyornis. — The Blue-faced Honey-eater or Batikin. — Gen-
eral 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 "Behavior 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 Moth, its Cocoons and Enemies. — The Puss Moth. — Its remarkable Co-
coon.— Powerfuljaws of the Parasite. — Rubt-tailed Flies and their Victims. —
Modes of Usurpation. — The Cuckoo Flies or Tachina?. — Parasites within Pupae.
— Parasites on Vegetables. — The Gall Flies and their Home. — British Galls,
their Shapes, Structures, and Authors. — Foreign Galls, and their Uses.

"We now pass to another branch of this inexhaustible subject,
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 one 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 habitation of the parasite is found within the animal itself;
and in some cases the entire body forms the habitation of the
parasite.

Several examples of the first description of parasites have al-
ready been given under other headings ; 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 rattlesnake take possession of the homes which had been
excavated by the prairie dog. Examples of the second descrip-
tion of parasites have also been given. The kingfisher, for in-
stance, usurps the deserted hole of a water-shrew ; and the hum-
ble-bee and wasp usually take advantage of the deserted burrow
of some rat or mouse. In the account of the sociable weaver

488 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

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 in the last chapter an example was mentioned
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 monopolizes 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 ae carefully as do any birds. The celebrated
Honey-finders, for example, which are found in most hot por-
tions 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 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-bird of America {Coccygus
Americanus), which is closely allied to the common cuckoo, and
yet which builds its own nest, and rears its own young. " Early
in May," writes Wilson, " they begin to pair, when obstinate bat-
tles take place among the males. About the 10th 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 or four in number, are placed ; these are of a uniform green-
ish-blue color, 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 precipitates herself to the
ground, feigning lameness, fluttering, trailing her wings, and tum-
bling over, in the manner of the partridge, woodcock, and many

THE ^PYORNIS. 489

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 al-
though 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.

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 ap-
teryx, 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. Tha 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 cer-
tain criterion respecting the size of the bird that laid it ; and al-
though 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 ^Epyornis,
or " tall bird." This egg makes that of the ostrich itself shrink
into insignificance, for its lineal measurement is precisely double
that of a large ostrich egg, and its cubic bulk is eight times as
great. In fact, the sepyornis 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 sepyornis 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 com-
pared 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 sepyornis must be twice as tall as an ostrich, and
so dismiss the subject from our minds. But when we come to
compare the imaginary bird with actually existing beings, we
shall better understand the dimensions of a bird that measured

490 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

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 comparative dimensions of the
apteryx and its egg, we must be prepared to find that the sepyor-
nis, 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 generalizing 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 or-
der to draw attention away from their offspring, and directly op-
posed to the indifference toward the young which seems to actu-
ate the ordinary cuckoo.

In Australia there is a large group of rather pretty birds, pop-
ularly 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 posi-
tion which is taken in America by the humming-birds, and by
the sunbirds of the Old "World. To this group belong many fa-
miliar 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 different species of Wattle Birds ; the odd, bald-
headed Friar Birds, and the splendidly decorated Poe Birds.

One species of it, which comes in the present section, is the
Blue-faced Honey-eater of New South Wales, called by the
natives Batikin (Enibmyza cyanotis). 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. 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 endless fund of amuse-
ment. It is never still, but traverses the branches with astonish-
ing celerity, skipping from one to another, probing every crevice

THE BLUE-FACED HONEY-EATER.

491

Honey-eater in Nest.

with its needle-like tongue, hanging with its head downward, and
even suspending itself by a single claw while it secures a tempt-
ing 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 skillful architects, but
the Batikin seems not to share the nbility 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 Pomatorhi-
nus, 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 desert-
ed nests are always usurped by the Batikin, which establishes
herself without any trouble. The reader would naturally imag-
ine that when the bird finds herself in possession of so large and

492 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

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 elements. She takes very little trouble
about preparing her home, but merely works a suitable depres-
sion 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 dom-
icile, and the parasitic nest of the Batikin is evidently an exten-
sion of the same principle.

In England we have many parasitic birds, one of which is the
common Spaerow-hawk (Accipiier Nisus), 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, therefore, both disputants are right,
and the Sparrow-hawk takes a deserted nest when it can find
one, and, when it can not 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 determina-
tion to their assailant, and armed with bills which are much
larger, and quite as formidable as that of the Sparrow-hawk.

The Kestrel (Tinnunculus alaudarius) 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 proceed-
ing 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 struggling, 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 Starling (Sturnus vulgaris),
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.

THE PURPLE GRAKLE. 493

Every one who has a dovecote knows how apt are the Starlings
to usurp the boxes intended for the pigeons, and how, in conse-
quence, it is accused of killing the young of the pigeons and suck-
ing 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 dis-
turbed whenever the robbers were seen. As, however, the pig-
eons 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 Quiscalinse. 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 (Quiscalus versicolor), 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 in-
truder 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 (Pandion haliaelus.)

The nest of the osprey is a very large edifice, made of sticks,
grass, sea-weed, 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, un-
til a heap some four or five feet in height is made. Interwoven
with the sticks are stalks of corn and various herbs, the larger
sea- weeds and large pieces of grass, the whole mass being a good
load for an ordinary cart, and as much as a horse can be reason-
ably 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 pre-
cise nature of the injury which kills it. Some persons say that

494 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

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 down-
ward. So firmly are the materials fastened together, 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 some-
what 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 men-
tioned in treating of the Purple Grakle, and which I have had
many opportunities of witnessing. The Grakles, or Crow Black-
birds, are permitted by the fish-hawk to build their nests among
the interstices of the sticks of which its own is constructed — sev-
eral 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. I 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 unoccu-
pied corner on the premises, had been anxipus to share, as much
as possible, the company 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 depre-
dators."

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 bod-
ies darkening the air. "A few miles from the banks of the Eo-
anoke, on the 20th of January, I met with one of these prodigious
armies of Grakles. They rose from the surrounding fields with

THE SPARROW. 495

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 sin-
gular and striking effect, the whole trees, for a considerable ex-
tent, seeming as if hung in mourning ; their notes and screaming
the mean while 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 can not all
have been nurtured in the interstices of osprey nests. 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 carefully made of mud, roots, and
grasses, about four inches in depth, and warmly lined with horse-
hair 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 color 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 (Passer domesticus) is occasion-
ally a parasite, 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 excep-
tion of the sea-weed, is made of similar materials. It is of huge
dimensions, and chiefly consists of sticks and reeds, heaped to-
gether without much arrangement, and having on the top a
slight depression, in which the eggs are laid. As in the case
with the osprey nest, considerable interstices are left between the

496 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

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 intend-
ed 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 ani-
mal, such as the various entozoa.

Of Parasitic Insects, the greater number belong to that group
of hymenoptera which is called Ichneumonidse, and which em-
braces a number of species equal to all the other groups of the
same order. Being desirous of producing, 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 Ichneumonidas is that tiny creature
called Microgaster glomerulus, of which a casual mention has al-
ready been made in page 289.

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 Bur-
net Ichneumon, which is mentioned on pp. 290, 292, 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 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 pres-
ent plant, and nip the growth of every bud which gave promise
for the future.

Every one knows the peculiarly offensive caterpillars which
eat the cabbages, and which are the offspring of the common
large white butterfly. In the spring the butterflies may be seen
flitting about the gardens, settling on the cabbages for a few mo-

THE ICHNEUMON FLIES.

497

Parasitic Insects.
Cocoon, of Oak-egger Motli Cocoon from New South Wales

iCryptusfumipenms).

Cocoon of Puss Moth
(Paniscits glaucopterua).

(1'iiitpla).
Cocoon of Goat Moth
(Lamjnosa setosa).

ments, and then flying off again. They look very pretty, harm-
less 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 capa-
ble of eating every 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 ex-
istence, 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 themselves, 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 unwilling nourishers of the ichneumon flies. Just be-
fore 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 connect-
ed ; but a group of these little objects is now before me, where
the cocoons are formed into a flattish oval mass, about the size

Ii

498 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

and shape of a scarlet-runner bean, split longitudinally, and are
bound so tightly together that their shape can barely be distin-
guished 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 punch-
ed out of the edges of postage-stamps. On the average, about
sixty or seventy ichneumon flies are produced from a single cab-
bage caterpillar.

The groups of yellow cells are very plentiful toward the mid-
dle of summer 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 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
ichneumon, 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 inter-
esting habitations.

The large oval cocoon was brought from New South Wales,
and is evidently the produce of some lepidopterous insect, proba-
bly a moth allied to the silkworm. Upon the larva which con-
structed the cocoon an ichneumon has laid her eggs, and the con-
sequence 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 Ichneumonidas, but have
angular edges.

In this, and in one or two other examples which are shown in
the illustration, the reader will note a peculiarity in the develop-
ment of the parasite. The Microgaster larvas emerge from the
caterpillar just before it undergoes its change into the pupal con-
dition, 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 caterpillar has com-
pleted its cocoon, and in some cases waits until the change into

THE OAK-EGGER MOTH — THE PUSS MOTH. 499

the pupal state has been achieved. 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 para-
site. The names of the Parasites are placed beneath the cocoons.

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 Oak-egger Moth (Lasio-
campa quercas), 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 sub-
ject 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 Moth cat-
erpillar, 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 caterpillar.

In another room, placed among the series of British moths, is a
cocoon of a Puss Moth (Centra vinula) which has been occupied
by two ichneumon larvae.

If the reader should happen to know the cocoon of this moth,
he will remember that it is made of wood scrapings, glued togeth-
er 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 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 ren-
ders it more difficult of penetration. Yet these singular insects
contrive to make their way through the sturdy walls.

The ichneumons which usually attack the Puss Moth are rath-
er large insects, belonging to the genus Ophion, and have long,
i slender, curved abdomens, and long antennas slightly twisted at
the ends. The color is orange, diversified with black. Those

500 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

which have made their cells in the above-mentioned cocoon be-
long to the species called Paniscus glaucopterus, and are of a yel-
lowish hue. It sometimes happens that the insects fail in making
their way through the cell walls and die in the interior. This ac-
cident, 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 Ruby-tail-
ed Flies, or Firetails, and scientifically are termed Chrysididce,
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 ab-
sent, and places an egg near that of the bee. The egg of the par-
asite 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 am-
ple subsistence to the parasite, which fastens upon it and devours
all the after portions.

Then there are the Cuckoo Flies (Tachince), which bear some
resemblance to the common house-fly, but which are parasitic,
feeding on the larvee of other insects, and selecting the same spe-
cies which are persecuted by the firetails. When the Tachina
larva has 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 two
larvas of the mason bee were in a nest into which a single egg of
the Tachinse had been introduced. The parasitic larva devoured
one of the rightful inhabitants, 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 chrysalis itself
of a lepidopterous insect becomes the home of the parasite. I
have found the pupae of various butterflies absolutely filled with

BRITISH GALLS.

501

tiny ichneumon flies of the most brilliant colors ; and in the Brit-
ish 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 belonging to the
same order as the ichneumons, but parasitic upon vegetables and
not on animals. Their scientific name is Oynipidoe, and they are
popularly known as Gall Flies, because they cause those singu-
lar excrescences 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 dif-
fer from each other in size, form, and color.

British Galls.

Leaf Galls of Oak. Bedeguar of Rose.

Cynips Kollari (slightly magnified).
Oak Apple.

Galls of Cynips Kollari.
Currant Galls of Oak.

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

502 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

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
called Cynips quercus -folii. They are beautifully colored, some
being entirely scarlet, while others are white, orange, and red, in
various gradations, something like the color 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 high-
ly 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 development of the
gall is proportionately increased. Wherever there is a thick
growth of oaken underwood, the numberless galls which stud the
leaves have a remarkably beautiful effect, provided that the ob-
server 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 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 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
temporarily resides.

On seeing the little creature thus snugly ensconced in the re-
ceptacle 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 inclosed larva, which must, therefore, be capable
of existing without more air than can pass through the minute
pores of the vegetable substance 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

BRITISH GALLS. 503

the manner in which a model of a wagon 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 wagoner from passing. The answer is sim-
ilar in both cases. The bottle was ingeniously blown over the
Wagon 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 handsome wings, which can be used with much
agility. An entomologist, on seeing her, would at once pronounce
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
pize renders impossible to be observed with the naked eye. If,
however, a magnifying-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, hav-
ing 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 or-
gan, 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 neces-
sarily variable, being dependent on that of the leaf. I have, for
example, many specimens of these galls, of different sizes, from
which the insects have escaped, showing that they had attained
their full size. On the juices of the gall the inclosed insect lives

504 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

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
undergoes 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 pre-
sents 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 beautiful creature, though not possess-
ing 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 or-
der to see these wings properly, the insect should be laid on some
black substance, and the light concentrated upon them by the va-
rious means which a microscopist can always employ.

The oak is a tree that seems to be especially loved by gall in-
sects, 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 in-
sect is not of very great size, the gall which it produces is some-
times enormous, being as large as a common golden pippin or
nonpareil apple, and therefore very conspicuous upon the tree.
It is colored 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 be-
ginning 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, however, fall off as the summer advances,
and are no more seen.

OAK APPLES. 505

If the oak apple be cut with a knife, the first touch of the steel
betrays a marked difference between its substance 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 grub.
From each of these cells, which are extremely variable in num-
ber, 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 ner-
vures 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 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 procure 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 inclosed 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 any thing about
them. A branch beset with these galls is shown in the right-
hand upper corner of the illustration, the figures being necessari-
ly much reduced.

I was totally unacquainted with them, but in the following
year found many of them on Shooter's Hill, in Kent, where the

506 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

growth of oaks is very dense. At the present day they have in-
creased so rapidly 'that they outnumber almost every species, if
we except the tiny spangle galls, and I have bred great quanti-
ties of the insect. The creature which made them is named
Cynips Kollari, in honor 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 ap-
pearance.

The galls produced by this insect are wonderfully spherical, of
a brown color, smooth on the exterior, and about as large as
white-heart cherries. Each contains a single insect, which under-
goes all its changes within the gall, and eats its way out when it
has attained the perfect form. Occasionally two galls become
fused together, and in my collection there is a very curious ex-
ample of these twin galls. They form a figure like that of a rude
hour-glass, and each portion has contained an insect. The inhab-
itant 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 ca-
pability of eating her way through the walls of her own habita-
tion, but not with the power of making a passage through another
gall afterward. As a natural consequence, she has died from ex-
haustion 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 than when she started on
her course.

The Cynips Kollari is larger than the generality of the family,
equaling a small house-fly in dimensions. Its color 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 Bede-
guar. This gall is caused by a very tiny and very brilliantly-

ROSE GALLS. 507

colored insect, named Cynips rosce, 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 rosse
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 conceal the form of the
gall itself.

Keaumur, 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 hard-
ening 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 hardened sap. Moreover, if the
hairs were formed in this manner, they could not have the power
of throwing out 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
can not 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 surround-
ed the gall, and which formed a second barrier, which they could
not penetrate. When, however, a sharp knife is carefully used.

508 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

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, acccording to
the size of the insect. Perhaps, 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 deprivation of sap, having
so hardened the walls of the cells that the inmates have been un-
able to make their way out. In other cells may be seen certain
odd little objects, amber-colored, hard, shining, and appearing to
the unaided eye to be nearly spherical. They are about as large
as dust-shot. For a long time I could not satisfy myself about
them, not being able clearly to ascertain whether they were de-
ceased 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 pupae of the in-
sects, which had died in the cells, and shriveled up into the singu-
lar 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 can not
be opened without 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 inclosed, while the small and necessarily
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
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

ROSE GALLS. 509

as otlier galls, but to decide upon the species which make them is
by no means so easy a task as appears on the surface. Even
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 Cynipidoe, and identifying the species — a
process 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 Cynipida3 are as lia-
ble 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 speci-
mens of the true Cynips rosce, and in others are insects which be-
long to another family, the Ichneumonidas, which, as the reader
may remember, are parasites upon other insects. They have evi-
dently introduced their eggs into the cells occupied by the larvae
of Cynips rosce, so that the larvas 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 appear-
ance. 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 moth, whose ravages have been
mentioned in an earlier part of the volume. On farther dissect-
ing 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 entomology 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

510 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

found upon the oak, and which is generally thought, by persons
who are unacquainted with botany or entomology, to be the buds
which naturally grow 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 recognized
by their shape, which somewhat resembles that of a pine-apple,
and the curious manner in which their leafy covering lies regu-
larly over them, like the tiles upon an ornamental roof. The
size of the gall is rather variable, but 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 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 color, too,
is another reason for giving them this name, as they are sometimes
scarlet, resembling red currants, and sometimes pale cream-color,
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.

CURRANT GALLS — SPANGLE GALLS. 511

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, causing large excrescences to
spring therefrom, each excrescence being filled with, insects. I
have often obtained these root-galls, several of which are now be-
fore me, some having been cut open, in order to show the numer-
ous 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
characterize the part of the tree from which they spring, and do
not display any of the colors 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 diame-
ter. Each gall contains 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 is termed Cynips quercus-raclicis, which forms
a many-chambered gall of enormous size, containing a small army
of insects. Mr. "Westcott 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 fifteen hundred.

No one who is accustomed to notice the objects which immedi-
ately surround him can have failed to observe the curious little
galls which stud the leaves of several trees, and which are appro-
priately 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 vege-
table agency. That their substance was vegetable was a fact
easily settled, but some botanists 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 disks,
very nearly, but not quite flat, fastened to the leaf by a very small
and short central foot-stalk. Eeaumur 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

512 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

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 re-
quire 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 in-
sects 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
following 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.

Mr. F. Smith, who has given so much time and research to the
history of the Hymenoptera, has discovered the insect that in-
habited the galls to be Cynips longipennis, and has remarked that
the perfect insects do not make their appearance until the month
of March.

We now pass from the British galls to those which are found
in various other countries. A few of the more interesting exam-
ples 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, 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 appear-
ance, inasmuch as the staining liquid is really ink, though of a
paler hue than that which is used for writing. A- little lemon-
juice will soon discharge the color, 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 (prop-
erly called green vitriol or copperas) with a decoction of certain
oak galls. Perhaps I may mention that a " decoction" signifies
water in which any substance has been submitted to boiling heat,
but not dissolved. Tea, for example, is, when properly made, a

INK GALLS.

518

Foreign Galls.

Ink Galls.
Hungarian Gall.

Dead Sea Apple.

Galls of Cynips polycera.

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 colorless, 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 consequence 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 produced, 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 contained in the galls.

A quill pen is dipped in the solution of copperas, and the re-
quired message is written, usually between the lines or among
the words of a letter on unimportant subjects, so as to avoid the

Kk

514 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

suspicions -which would be aroused by a sheet of blank paper.
The almost colorless 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 letter upon it. The tannin
then acts upon the solution of iron, ink is formed by their com-
bination, 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, whenever the ink in the bottle be-
comes 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 called
Quercus infectoria, 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 in-
gredients 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 di-
mensions 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 weak-
ened in astringency. They are so called because they assume a
paler hue than the three first classes, in which the insect still re-
mains. In shape, the ink gall is nearly spherical, with a slight
tendency to a pear-like form, and their exterior is defended by a
few short, stout, and rather sharp prickles.

I can not 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-

DEAD SEA APPLE. 515

house, or rather a city of treasure-houses, very few of which have
been unlocked because no one has found the keys. No one, in-
deed, is likely to do so as long as he chooses to despise " little
things," and if the only acknowledged benefit conferred on man-
kind 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 civilization 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 Dead
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 bit-
ter 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, re-
cent 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 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 suggested by the name of oak,
are seen to be covered with round, fruit-looking objects, beauti-
fully colored, 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, which has been named by Mr. Westwood Cy-
nips insana.

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

516 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

produced by the same insect. These galls are also known as
Mala Sodomitica, and Mad Apples, the latter term being the ori-
gin of the specific title " insana" applied by Mr. Westwood to the
insect.

Immediately below the Dead Sea Apple, and in the right-
hand lower corner, may be seen two remarkable objects, which
would- scarcely be recognized as galls except by an experienced
eye. They are, however, the production 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 recognized by their remarkable 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 present a cir-
cular section. The end, however, is constructed after a peculiar
fashion.

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 projections. This re-
markable 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 Kollari.

The last example which is represented in the illustration 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 inserted in so limited
a space. It is a very remarkable object, and can not 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

OAK GALLS. 517

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 stub-
born a resistance as if it were seasoned oak or elm.

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, and nearly three quarters of
an inch in length, is really surprising. The insect is not a large
one, and resembles Cynips Kollari 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.

CHAPTER XXVI.

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 Insects which caused them. — Colors 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
Gall of the Hawthorn. — The Beetle Gall of the Thistle. — Dipterous Gall-
makers. — Leaf-miners and Galls. — Size of the Larvae of Leaf-miners. — The per-
fect Insect and their Beauty. — Method of displaying the Insect. — Social Leaf-
miners. — Dipterous Leaf-miners. — Animal Galls. — The Chigoe and its Hab-
its.— Its curious Egg-sac. — Difficulty of extirpating it. — The Penalty of Negli-
gence.— The Breeze Flies and their Habitations. — Wurbles and their Origin.
— Their influence upon Cattle. — The Clerus and its Ravages among the Hives.
— The Drilus, its remarkable Form, and the difference between the Sexes. — The
curious Habitation which it makes.

The reader can not 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 use-
ful to it. The leaves are studded with galls, and so are their
stems. The branches are covered with galls of various shapes,
sizes, and colors, some bright, smooth, and softly colored, like ripe
fruit, others hard, harsh, spiny, and rough, as if the very essence
of the gnarled branches had been concentrated in them. There
are galls upon the flowers, galls upon the trunk, and even galls
upon the root.

518 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

Some oak-galls may be called compound galls. M. Bosc men-
tions 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 Cynipidas. 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 inclosed 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 afterward 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 impossible, for, as soon as it is touched,
it begins to contract, and in a minute or two shrivels up into a
flat membranous 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 cur-
rant, showing that the inhabitant of the cell must be a large one
in order to fill it. Again, although the oak apple and rose bede-
guar do contain a great number of insects, there are many exam-
ples where galls scarcely as large as a pea contain from ten to fif-
teen insects, while the ink gall and the large Hungarian gall are
inhabited by a single insect.

GALLS. 51D

One of the most curious problems is, to my mind, that of the
brilliant colors 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 as-
tonishment, inasmuch as it may be said that the colors 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 colors of its galls. The cher-
ry galls are as brightly colored as any apple, and the soft hues
of the oak apple are nearly as beautiful, though not so brilliant.
Yet the oak possesses no such store-house of color as is popularly
attributed to the rose. Its leaves are simple green, and its flow-
erets are so colorless as scarcely to be distinguished by the unas-
sisted eye.

Whence, then, are derived these beautiful colors? Some hasty
observers, who have neglected the first rule of logic, and drawn
a universal conclusion from particular premises, have said that
the colors of the gall are derived from the insect, adducing as a
proof of their assertion the brilliant colors which equally deck
the rose bedeguar and the Oynvps rosce from which it sprang.
But if they had only followed the example of careful naturalists,
who, like Dr. Hammerschmidt, have examined and drawn be-
tween two and three hundred species of galls, so hasty a gener-
alization would never have been made. The cherry or leaf gall
of the oak is every whit as gorgeously colored 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 regular-
ly 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 besides the oak are chosen by certain species
of gall-fly, and even the herbs and flowers do not escape the rav-
ages of these remarkable insects. The white poppy, from which

520 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

is obtained the opium of commerce, is attacked by a species of
gall-fly, which lays its eggs in the large head, or pod, and some-
times does much damage to the plant, the delicate divisions be-
tween the seed-vessels being rendered quite hard and solid, and
the 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 Cynipidae 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 re-
lations of these insects with the following families (i. e., Evanida?
and Ichneumonidte) have been already noticed. It had always
appeared to me contrary to nature that a tribe of vegetable-feed-
ing 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, 1 detected a minute spe-
cies, Allotria victrix, 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 parasites. The rose aphis is certainly infest-
ed by two species of gall-fly, and probably more, while the aphides
which are found on the willow, the cow-parsnip, and other plants,
also fall victims to the Cynipidse. There is one genus of this
family, called Figiies, which is parasitic on the larva or pupa of
certain dipterous insects.

The Cynipidae are not the only insects that produce 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 gray-
ish-brown, which is mentioned by Mr. Eennie 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,

THE BEETLE GALL. 521

but not quite so closely as is usual in the case of leaf-rolling cat-
erpillars. On opening them up, there was no caterpillar to be
seen, the centre being occupied with a roundish, brown-colored
woody substance, similar to some excrescences made by gall in-
sects (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 bro-
ken, 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
grayish-brown beetle of the weevil family.

"The most remarkable circumstance in the case in question
was the apparent inability of the grub to construct 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 de-
posited 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 lar-
val state.

There is another weevil, scientifically called Gleonus sulciros-
iris, 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 gray 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

522

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

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 farther
extension of the plant is thereby prevented.

There are also gall-making insects among the Diptera. Such,
for example, is the Thistle-gall Fly ( Urapkora Cardui), which
produces large and hard woody galls upon the thistle, as 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 man}-
of them are notable for certain curious markings, which look

LEAF-MIXERS. 523

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 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 larvre, which
live between the membranes of the leaves, and feed upon the pa-
renchyma, or soft substance which lies between the two mem-
branes. 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 ac-
curacy. Sometimes they form a kind of spiral, and sometimes
they wander irregularly over the whole leaf. Generally, the in-
sect does not cross the track which it has once made, being di-
verted from doing so by some wonderful instinct. There are in-
stances, 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 afterward 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 developed from it must be
of very minute dimensions.

The larva of all winged insects is very large in proportion to
the same insects when they have obtained their perfect form,
much of the substance being taken up by the wings. As a nat-
ural consequence, it follows that the larger the wings, the larger
must be the grub, the size of the body being quite a secondary
consideration. In the present case, the larvos which we are sup-
posed to examine belong to the lepidopterous order, in all of
which insects the wings, when present at all, are of great compar-
ative 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

524 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

such caterpillars are so small that they have almost escaped ob-
servation until comparatively late years.

How small these insects are may be imagined from the fact that
many species of the Micro-lepidoptera, 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 can not be accomplished by the ordinary plan of run-
ning 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 Micro-lepidoptera 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 beauti-
fully decorated, their wings gleaming in favorable lights like the
throat of the humming-bird. But when placed under the micro-
scope, especially if it be furnished with a binocular tube, and illu-
minated by a suitable light, the wings are positively dazzling in
their 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 perfect 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 shat-
tered 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 colored with bright chestnut. The
lower wings are pale gray, without any of the brilliancy that dis-
tinguishes the upper pair. They possess, however, a compensa-
ting beauty in the long, feathery fringe with which they are
edged, and which, when subjected to the microscope, is seen to

LEAF-MINERS. 525

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, Nepticula aurella.

This beautiful little moth derives its specific name from the pe-
culiar coloring of the upper wings, which are bright chestnut, re-
lieved by a broad band of gold across their centre. The tips of
these wings are fringed, and the lower pair are nearly white, and
edged with a fringe similar to that which has already been de-
scribed.

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 iso-
lated life, and does not inhabit the same burrow as its neighbor.
There are, however, exceptions to this rule, as to most others, and
certain species of leaf-miners inhabiting the henbane live harmo-
niously 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 for-
mer habitation, a power which does not seem to belong to the
caterpillars of the Micro-lepidoptera.

As the meandering tracks of the Micro-lepidoptera upon the
leaves of various plants are very similar in general aspect, I have
caused figures of common leaf-rollers to be inserted in the illus-
tration. If the reader will turn to pages 312-316, he will see an
account of certain moths whose larvae roll up the leaves in which
they reside. The lilac leaf on the left hand of the illustration has
been rolled up by the larva of a moth named Gracillana syrin-
gella, the generic title being given to it on account of its graceful
form, and the specific name because it is fond of frequenting the
syringa shrub. The larva is shown just below, of its natural size,
and the hole through which the perfect insect has escaped can be
seen upon the rolled portion of the leaf.

On page 315 may be seen an account of the manner in which
the larva performs a task so apparently impossible as rolling up
a leaf of such great comparative size. When the little caterpillar
is contrasted with the leaf on which it is at work, the contrast is
almost ludicrous, for it seems nearly as impossible for so little a
creature to roll up so large a leaf as for a man to roll up one of
the armor-plates of an iron-clad ship. The manner by which this

526 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

task is achieved is described on the above-mentioned page, and
the reader will be the better able to understand the description if
he compares it with the illustration.

The moth which has inhabited this leaf is called Gracillaria
semifascia.

To return to our leaf-miners.

Although the greater number of these insects belong to the
Lepidoptera, the rule is by no means a universal one. Manv
beetles are thus parasitic within the leaves of plants, and, as a
general rule, they belong to the family of Curculionidse, or wee-
vils. There are also several species of dipterous insects which
have this habit, among which may be named the Chrysanthe-
mum Fly (Tephritis ariemisice), which burrows into the leaves of
the flower. There is also a genus of flies called Phytomyza, i e.,
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 honeysuckle by anoth-
er, and the common hart'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 construct some sort of a habita-
tion.

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
{Pulex penetrans), otherwise called the Jigger, or Earth Fly.
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 caus-
ing any pain. There is 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

THE CHIGOE. 527

globular, and of great comparative size, and containing a vast
quantity of tiny eggs. Pain is now felt by the victim, who gen-
erally has recourse to the skillful old dames, who have a kind of
monopoly of extracting Chigoe " nests." With a needle they care-
fully 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 intrud-
er, and exhibit the unbroken sac of eggs with great glee. To pre-
vent 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 per-
chance have escaped notice.

Europeans and natives of the better caste escape easily enough,
because they always take warning by the first intimation of a
Chigoe's attack, and generally succeed in killing her before she
has succeeded in burying herself. Moreover, the shoes and stock-
ings of civilized man protect his feet, and the gloves guard his
hands, so that the insect does not find many opportunities of at-
tacking 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 par-
ticular the least apt of all humanity. The Chigoe is in conse-
quence 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 experienced
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 op-
erator, 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 bur-
row under the skin.

528 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

If the Chigoe be allowed to remain, the results are disastrous.
Swellings make their appearance among the limbs, the glands be-
come affected, and if the cause is permitted to remain undisturbed,
mortification takes place, and the sufferer dies. So the red-pepper
discipline, severe as it may be, is an absolute necessity with those
who are unable to reason rightly, or to exercise 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 conse-
quence, 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 Fly (CEstrus bovis), which is
so troublesome to cattle. The larvse 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 swelling is a gall produced on an animal instead of a plant,
and the inclosed insect feeds in a similar manner upon the abnor-
mal secretion which is induced by the irritation of its presence.

The larvas 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 appearance can exist with-
out any apparent channel of communication with the external at-
mosphere, 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 insure a constant supply of air.

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 four-
teen 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 BREEZE FLY — PARASITIC BEETLE. 529

the back. Strangely enough, the cow does not appear to feel any
pain from the presence of these large parasites, nor does she suf-
fer 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 injuri-
ous, they are absolutely beneficial.

When the grub has reached its full development, it pushes it-
self backward out 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 habit-
ation 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 re-
moved, 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.

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 al-
vearius. In its perfect state it is innocent enough, but in its lar-
val 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 in-
habitants. 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 per-
fect insect, and then breaks out of its cocoon and leaves the hive,

L L

530 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

secure from the bees, whose stings can not penetrate the horny
mail in which it is incased.

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 Jiavescens, the latter
name being given to it in honor of its yellow-tinted wing:cases,
which present a pretty contrast with the black thorax. It is a
little beetle, scarcely exceeding a quarter of an inch in length, and
is remarkable for the beautiful comb-like antenna? of the male.
As for the female, she is so unlike her mate that she has been de-
scribed as a different insect. She has no pretensions to beauty,
and can scarcely be recognized 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, antennas 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 arc
very powerful.

THE DORMOUSE. 531

CHAPTER XXVII.

BRANCH-BUILDING MAMMALIA.

The Dormouse in Confinement and at Liberty. — Nest of the Dormouse. — Its Posi-
tion, Materials, and Dimensions. — Entrance to the Nest. — The winter Treasury.
— The Loire and the Lerot. — Man as a Branch-builder. — Moselekatze. — His
Conquests. — Effects upon the People. — Branch-houses. — Their Approaches.

We now come to another division of the subject, namely, the
nests that are built in branches, and, adhering to the system which
has been followed through the progress of the work, we shall take
first the branch-building mammalia.

There are but few mammals which can be reckoned in this di-
vision, but our little island produces two of them, namely, the
Squirrel and the Dormouse {Muscardinus avellanarius). The for-
mer of these animals has been already described at page 217.

The pretty little brown -coated, white -bellied Dormouse is fa-
miliar to all who have been fond of keeping pets. There is no
difficulty in preserving the animal in health, and, therefore, it is
a favorite among those who like to keep animals and do not like
the trouble of looking after them. It is, however, rather an un-
interesting animal when kept in a cage, as it sleeps during the
greater part of the day, and the sight of a round ball of brown
fur is not particularly amusing.

When kept in confinement, it is obliged to make for itself a
very inartificial nest, because it is deprived of proper materials
and a suitable locality. It does its best with the soft hay and cot-
ton wool which are usually provided for it, but it can not do much
with such materials. But when in a. state of liberty, and able to
work in its own manner, it is an admirable nest-maker. As it
passes the day in sleep, it must needs have some retired domicile
in which it can be hidden from the many enemies which might
attack a sleeping animal.

One of these nests is depicted in the illustration, and the speci-
men from which it is drawn forms a part of my collection. It
was situated in a hedge about four feet from the ground, and, as
may be seen by reference to the illustration, is placed in the fork-
ing of a hazel branch, the smaller twigs of which form a kind of

532 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

palisade round it. The substances of which it is composed are of
two kinds, namely, grass-blades and leaves of trees, the former be-
ing the chief material. It is exactly six inches in length by three
inches in width, and is constructed in a very ingenious manner,
reminding the observer of the pensile nests made by the weaver
birds, which have already been described at page 219.

Two or three kinds of grass are used, the greater part being
the well-known sworcl-grass, whose sharp edges cut the fingers of
a careless handler. The blades are twisted round the twigs and
through the interstices until they form a hollow nest, rather oval
in shape. Toward the bottom the finer sorts of grass are used,
as well as some stems of delicate climbing weeds, which are no
larger than ordinary thread, and which serve to bind the mass to-
gether. Interwoven with the grass are several leaves, none of
which belong to the branch, and which are indeed of two kinds,
namely, hazel and maple, and have evidently been picked up from
the ditch which bounded the hedge. Their probable use is to
shield the inmate from the wind, which would penetrate through
the interstices of the loosely woven grass-blades.

The entrance to the nest is so ingeniously concealed, that to
find it is not a very easy matter, even when its precise position is
known ; and in order to show the manner in which it is construct-
ed, one of the Dormice is represented in the act of drawing aside
the grass-blades that conceal it. The pendent pieces of grass that
are being held aside by the little paw are so fixed that when re-
leased from pressure they spring back over the aperture, and con-
ceal it in a very effectual manner.

Although the Dormouse uses this aerial house as a residence,
it does not make use of it as a treasury. Like many other hiber-
nating animals, it collects a store of winter food, which generally
consists of nuts, grain, and similar substances. These treasures
are carefully hidden away in the vicinity of the nest, and in the
illustration the animal is shown as eating a nut which it has taken
from one of its store-houses beneath the thick branch. During
the winter the animal does not feed much upon its stores, inas-
much as it is buried in the curious state of hibernation during the
cold months. At the beginning of spring, however, the hiberna-
tion passes off, and is replaced by ordinary sleep, with intervals
of wakefulness.

Now, while the animal hibernates, the tissues of the bod}'- un-
dergo scarcely any change, even though no nutriment be taken.

DORMOUSE ami NEST.

THE DORMOUSE. 530

But, as soon as the creature resumes its ordinary life, waste goes
on, and the creature soon feels the pangs of hunger. As the food
of the Dormouse consists chiefly of seeds and fruits, it could not
find enough nourishment to support the body, and would there-
fore perish of hunger but for the stores which instinct had taught
it to gather in the preceding autumn.

In the illustration, the stag-beetle and the golden-crested wren
have been introduced to show the comparative size of the ani-
mals. The old Dormouse does not fear the beetle, and tranquilly
pursues his meal, but the young one is rather discomposed at the
intrusion of the big black insect, and meditates a retreat into the
nest.

There are several species of Dormouse, which have similar hab-
its, and at least two of them are found in Europe. These are the
Loire {Myoxus glis) and the Lerot {Myoxus quercinus). The for-
mer of these animals is sometimes called the Fat Dormouse, be-
cause it was in ancient days considered as a great delicacy, and
carefully fattened in places called gliraria. This animal is found
in France.

In many parts of the same country the Lerot is a great pest to
the gardens, because it is fond of fruit, and has a special liking for
the ripest peaches, nectarines, and similar choice fruit.

Besides those which have been mentioned, several other spe-
cies of mammalia make aerial nests in the branches of trees,
though such nests are only to be considered as exceptions from
the general rule. Perhaps the most singular of these exceptions
is that which has been discovered in Africa, where human beings
systematically build their houses in trees. This curious fact was
discovered by Mr. Moffatt, the well-known missionary, in the
course of his travels.

Two traders had been in the country which was ruled by the
ferocious chief Moselekatze, who has derived an unenviable name
for his relentless cruelty, which will always eclipse his well-de-
served reputation as a man of commanding genius and of subtle
intellect. He was, in fact, a savage Napoleon, and, if possible,
even a more wonderful man, inasmuch as he had no education,
and created the terrible power which he so skillfully wielded.

King of the Zulu Kafirs, he had organized a vast military
establishment, and had invented a system of warfare so ingen-
ious as to entitle him to the name of a born general. All able-

536 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

bodied men were forced to servers soldiers, drafted into different
regiments according to their capacities of strength, swiftness, or
cunnino- and when they went into action had the alternative of
victory°'or death, a fugitive being invariably killed by the exe-
cutioner.

When his white visitors were about to return to their homes,
Moselekatze thought that it would be a good opportunity of ex-
tending his knowledge, and consequently his influence, by learn-
ing the manners and customs of white men, and therefore sent
two of his councillors to accompany the visitors to their homes,
to inspect their proceedings, and then to return and report what
they had seen. The envoys carried out the instructions of their
master, though their brains could scarcely retain the vast stores
of new facts which were continually poured into them, and in due
time they wished to return to their own country.

Here, however, was a difficulty. In order to reach Zulu-land,
they must pass through tracts inhabited by other nations, all of
which had been invaded and harried by the conquering troops of
Moselekatze, and they knew full well that if their identity were
recognized they would be murdered in retaliation by the incensed
owners of the land.

In this strait, Mr. Moffatt offered to accompany them until they
had reached the boundaries of their land, and set off with them.
When he had fulfilled his promise he was about to return, but his
guests begged so earnestly that he should go on and visit their
king, that he yielded to their request. Contrary to the usual hab-
its of the Kafir, Moselekatze was grateful to Mr. Moffatt, saying
that " the kindness which had been done to his servants had been
done to him, Moselekatze, the son of Machobane."

On this journey Mr. Moffatt's attention was taken by a magnifi-
cent tree, under whose shadow were a number of human beings
moving about. On approaching nearer, he found that the tree
was close to water, and on looking upward he saw that a number
of little huts were among the branches. Seventeen of these huts
were completed, and three more were in course of erection. These
were the dwellings of the natives who had been seen under the
tree, and were constructed in a very ingenious manner.

Where two or three branches spread their forked boughs hori-
zontally, a number of sticks were laid so as to form a platform
about seven or eight feet in diameter. Upon this platform was
erected the hut, a necessarily small edifice, consisting of sticks

TREE-HOUSES. 537

fastened together so as to make a conical-shaped hut, about six
feet in diameter at the bottom, and barely as much in height, so
that a tall man could hardly lie at full length even when occupy-
ing the very centre of it. The roof of the hut was made of grass,
and the sides were wattled with the same substance. As the hut
was always placed at one edge of the scaffold, the opposite edge
afforded a small landing or platform, about a foot or eighteen
inches in width. The only method of approaching these curious
huts was by means of notches cut in the trunk of the tree, the
owners not daring to trust to any less difficult means of ascent.

"We now ask ourselves why the natives chose to live in such
small and inconvenient dwellings, when there was ample space
on the fertile ground for a village. Moselekatze was the cause.
His armed hordes, with their wonderful discipline, had swept over
the country, destroyed all military power, carried off the cattle, in
which consists the wealth of the South African, killed many war-
riors, and disarmed the rest. Under these circumstances, the wild
beasts began to increase in number and audacity, and the enfee-
bled members of the tribe were perforce obliged to abandon their
ordinary mode of life, and to reside among the branches where
the lions could not reach them. During the day they were toler-
ably safe, but at night they retired to the trees.

In one of these aerial huts Mr. Moffatt passed the night, having
previously shot a rhinoceros, and put the hump into a deserted
ant-hill which was used as an oven. During the night the lions
came and did their best to devour the meat, the savory smell of
which attracted them on all sides. Fortunately for the travelers,
the oven was too hot for the lions, and although they growled
and snarled over it all night, they dared not attack it, and retired
in the morning. The chief food of the people who inhabit these
huts consisted of locusts and roots, for their cattle were gone, they
could not make fences wherein to inclose a patch of cultivated
ground, the lions had driven away the smaller game, and the few
weapons which had escaped Moselekatze were insufficient for the
slaughter of the larger and more powerful animals.

538 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

FEATHERED BRANCH-BUILDERS.

The Rook and its Nesting-place. — Materials and Structure of the Nest. — Some
Habits of the Rook. — The Crow. —Difference between the Nest of the Rook and
the Crow. — The Heron and its Mode of Nidification. — The Heronry at Walton
Hall. — Rustic Ideas respecting the Heron's Nest. — The Chaffinch. — Locality
and Structure of its beautiful Nest. — Mode of obtaining Materials. — The Gold-
finch and its Home.— Distinction between the Nests of the Goldfinch and Chaf-
finch.— The Bullfinch.— Locality and Form of its Nest. — Variability of Struc-
ture.—The Blue-eyed Yellow Warbler.— Curious Materials of its Nest.— Its
remarkable Habits. — The Bald-headed Eagle. — Why so called. — Wilson and
Audubon's Account of its Nest. — The Golden Oriole and its beautiful Nest. —
Mode of catching the' Bird. — The Red-winged Starling, its Value and Demer-
its.— Its gregarious Habits. — Locality and Structure of its Nest. — The Yellow-
breasted Chat and its odd Ways. — Its Courage and Affection for its Nest and
Young. — Structure of its Nest — The Ringdove and its curious Nest. — The
Whitethroat. — Description of the Locality and Structure of the Nest. — Reasons
for its various popular Names. — The Mocking-bird. — The Water Hen and its
Nesting. — Its habit of covering the Eggs.

We pass now to the many birds which build their nests on
branches of trees or shrubs, and which may therefrom be termed
Aerial Builders. A vast proportion of the feathered tribes
select branches as a site for their habitation, so that only the re-
markable examples will be mentioned or figured.

Perhaps the most conspicuous of all ordinary branch-nests are
those which are made by the Eooks and the Crows.

Every one has seen the nests of the former of these two birds.
They are large, dark, and are placed upon the topmost boughs
of the tree, so that they can be seen at a considerable distance.
Their position is evidently intended as a safeguard against the
attacks of various enemies, among which the bird-nesting boy is
pre-eminently the most dangerous. Scarcely would the boughs
endure the weight of a cat or monkey, and so slender are they in
many cases that the spectator wonders how they can support the
nest, with its living contents of a parent and three or four young.

The foundation of the nest is composed of sticks of various
sizes and lengths, all, however, being tolerably light and dry, the

THE ROOK. 539

Rook generally carrying up the dead branches that have been
blown down by the winds of the preceding winter. These are
usually interlaced among the spreading branches of a convenient
spray, and thus form a rude basket-work, in which will lie the
softer materials on which the eggs and young are to repose.
The lining is composed almost entirely of long and delicate
fibrous roots, which are intertwined, so as to make an interior
basket very similar in general construction to the twig basket of
the exterior, and being so independent of it that, with a little
care, it can be lifted out entire.

On this soft bed are laid the eggs, which are four or five in
number, and are rather variable in color, the usual tint being
greenish -gray, largely spotted, mottled, and splashed with dark
brown, in which a shade of green is visible. They vary in size
as well as in hue, and from the same nest I have taken eggs of so
different an aspect that a casual observer would probably think
them to be the production of distinct birds.

The principal labors of nest-building fall on the young birds,
inasmuch as the elders mostly return to the same domicile every
successive season, and are seldom obliged to make an entirely
new nest. The young builders are sometimes aggrieved at this
distribution of labor, and try to equalize it by helping themselves
to the sticks belonging to other proprietors. The general com-
munity, however, never suffer theft to be perpetrated, and are
sure, in such a case, to scatter the ill-gotten materials, and force
the dishonest birds to begin their labors anew.

When the young are launched upon the world and able to get
their own living, the nest is used no more, but is abandoned both
by parents and young, not to be again used until repaired in the
spring of the following year. It is a curious point in the econo-
my of the Rook, that when it has abandoned its temporary home,
it does not choose to repose among the trees on which the nest
was made. Mr. Waterton, who possesses invaluable opportuni-
ties for studying the habits of this bird, and has developed them
to the utmost, makes the following remarks upon the roosting of
this bird :

" There is no wild bird in England so completely gregarious
as the Rook, or so regular in its daily movements. The ring-
doves will assemble in countless multitudes, the finches will unite
in vast assemblies, and water-fowl will flock in thousands to the
protected lakes during the weary months of winter, but when

540 HOMES WITHOUT. HANDS.

the returning sun spreads joy and consolation over the face of
nature, these congregated numbers are dissolved, and the individ-
uals retire in pairs to propagate their respective species. The
Book, however, remain's in society the year throughout. In flocks
it builds its nest, in flocks it seeks for food, and in flocks it re-
tires to roost.

"About two miles to the eastward of this place are the woods
of Nostell Priory, where from time immemorial the Rooks have
retired to pass the night. I suspect, by the observations which
I have been able to make on the morning and evening transit of
these birds, that there is not another roosting-place for at least
thirty miles to the westward of Nostell Priory. Every morning,
from within a few days of the autumnal to about a week before
the vernal equinox, the Rooks, in congregated thousands upon
thousands, fly over the valley in a westerly direction, and return
in undiminished numbers to the nest an hour or so before the
night sets in.

" In their morning passage some stop here ; others in other
favorite places, farther and farther on ; some repairing to . the
trees for pastime, some resorting to the fields for food, till the de-
clining sun warns those which have gone farthest that it is time
they should return. They rise in a mass, receiving additions to
their numbers from every intervening place, till they reach this
neighborhood in an amazing flock. Sometimes they pass on
without stopping, and are joined by those which have spent the
day here. At other times they make my park their place of
rendezvous, and cover the ground in vast profusion, or perch
upon the surrounding trees. After tarrying here for a certain
time, every Rook takes wing. They linger in the air for a while,
in slow revolving circles, and then they all proceed to Nostell
Priory, which is their last resting-place for the night.

"In their morning and evening passage, the loftiness or lowli-
ness of their flight seems to be regulated by the state of the
weather. When it blows a hard gale of wind, they descend the
valley with astonishing rapidity, and just skim over the tops of
the intervening hills a few feet above the trees; but when the
sky is calm and clear, they pass through the heavens at a great
height, in regular and easy flight."

This custom of the Rooks is the more curious because it is
hardly possible to conceive any roosting-place which would be
more acceptable to a sensible bird than the woods within the con-

THE CROW. 541

fines of Walton Hall. As lias already been mentioned, the birds
will occasionally rest for a while in those pleasant woods, though
they ultimately take wing for the accustomed roosting -place.
There is plenty of space for them ; they have their choice of trees
on which to settle, and the lofty wall which surrounds them in-
sures their freedom from all disturbance.

Very similar in general aspect to the rook, the Crow (Corvus
corone) builds a nest which resembles that of the rook in outward
form, but is easily distinguished by an experienced eye. The
lining of the nest is made of animal instead of vegetable sub-
stances, hair and wool taking the place of fibrous roots.

Viewed from the foot of the tree, the nest of the Crow is noth-
ing but a large and nearly shapeless bundle of sticks, but when
the enterprising naturalist has climbed to the summit of the tree
in which it is placed, and can look into the nest, he is always
gratified by the peculiarly neat and smooth workmanship of
the aerial home. The outside of the nest is rough and rugged
enough, but the inner nest, which is made of rabbit's-fur, wool,
and hair, is woven into a basin-like form, beautifully smooth, soft,
and elastic. On this bed repose the eggs, which are somewhat
like those of the rook, but darker and greener, and more thickly
spotted, though they are extremely variable in size and color,
and sometimes resemble so closely those of the rook that the dis-
tinction can hardly be detected.

The Crow always builds at the tops of trees, and has a wonder-
ful knack of choosing those which are most difficult of ascent.
The nests are plentiful enough, but the proportion of eggs taken
is very small in comparison. There are some nests which baffle
almost any one to rob successfully. An experienced nest-hunter
is always endowed with a strong head, and ought to be perfectlv
at his ease on the summit of the loftiest trees, even though he
should be obliged to crawl in fly-fashion under a branch, to hang
by one hand while he takes the eggs with the other, or to sus-
pend himself by his legs in order to get at a nest below him.
That a nest should escape a properly qualified hunter is simply
impossible, but to secure the eggs is quite another matter.

In many cases the nest of the Crow is placed on branches so
long and so slender that they will not endure the weight of a
small boy, much less of a man, and the only method of getting
at it is by bending down the branches. But, when the branches

542 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

are bent, the nest is tilted over, and out fall the eggs, so that the
disappointed hunter loses all his time and trouble.

Possibly this extreme caution may be the result of sad experi-
ence, for, although the generality of Crows' nests are placed in
the most inaccessible positions, I have seen and taken many
which were so easy of attainment that in a very few minutes I
had ascended the tree and returned with the eggs. There are
generally four or five eggs, although in some exceptional cases
six eggs are said to be laid in a single nest. I never saw more
than five, though I have examined very many nests. High as
the nest of a Crow may be, it is alwaj^s worthy of an ascent, for,
even should it be an old nest and deserted by the original inhab-
itant, there is always a possibility that it may have been usurped
by some hawk, whose beautiful eggs are always considered as
prizes.

There is a splendid British bird, which is becoming scarcer
almost yearly, which makes a nest something like that of the
crow and rook, but much larger. This is the Heron {Ardea cine-
rea), one of the very few large birds which still linger among us.

On account of its own great size, the Heron makes a very large
and very conspicuous nest, built chiefly of sticks and twigs, and
placed on the summit of a tree.

Like the rook, the Heron is gregarious in its nesting, so that a
solitary Heron's nest is very seldom seen, though now and then
an exception to the general rule is discovered. To watch the
manners and customs of this bird is not a very easy task, because
the number of heronries in England is very small, and the shy
nature of the birds renders them difficult of approach. At Wal-
ton Hall, however, the Herons are so fearless, through long-con-
tinued impunity, that they will allow themselves to be watched
closely, provided that the observer is quiet, and does not make a
noise, or alarm the birds by abrupt movements.

It is a very pretty sight to watch the great birds as they go to
and from their nests, bringing food to their young, or flying to
the lake in search of more fish. Numbers of the Heron may be
seen at the water's edge, sometimes standing on one foot, with
their long necks completely hidden, and their bayonet-like beaks
projecting from their shoulders. For hours the birds will retain
this attitude, which to a human being would be the essence of
discomfort, and it is really wonderful how they can keep up for

• THE HERON. 543

so long a time the muscular energy which is expended in holding
up the spare leg and keeping it tucked under their belly.

Now and then one of the Herons seems to wake up, and after
a stretch of the neck and a flap of the wings, walks statelily and
deliberately into the water, through which it stalks, examining
every inch of bank and every cluster of weeds as it passes along.
Presently the bird pauses, and remains quite still for some time,
when the long neck is suddenly darted forward, the beak disap-
pears for a second among the reeds, and presently emerges with
a fish, frog, or water-rat in its gripe. ■ The real beauty of the Her-
on can never be appreciated until it is seen at liberty, and in the
enjoyment of its natural life. It suits the locality so well that,
when it flies away, the spot has lost somewhat of its charms. As
it stands in the water, intent upon catching prey, the drooping
feathers of its breast wave gracefully in the breeze, and the rip-
ples of the sunlit water are reflected in mimic waves upon its
gray-plumed wings.

Generally it cares little for exerting itself until toward the
evening, but then it becomes impatient and restless, and is not
quieted until it has obtained some food.

Some anglers have an idea that the Heron is one of the birds
that ought to be ranked as "vermin," thinking that it destroys so
many fish that it ruins an angler's sport. Consequently they
kill the bird whenever they can manage to do so, and flatter
themselves that they are doing good service in preserving the
breed of fish. Now, even were the entire diet of the Heron to
consist of fish, the bird would really do but little harm, because it
can only take food in shallow water, and is seldom to be seen
more than a yard or two from the bank. But the diet of the
Heron is by no means exclusively of a fishy nature, inasmuch as
the bird eats plenty of frogs and newts, and will often secure a
water-rat even when fully grown. It is seldom that fish which
,are of any value to the angler come into water in which the Her-
on could catch them, and even if they did so, their size would pre-
vent the bird from takinsr them.

O

At Walton Hall, where the Herons breed largely, and where
they procure nearly all the food for themselves and young out of
the lake, there is no lack of fish, as may be practically proved by
any one who is permitted to cast a line into the water. I am a
very poor fisherman, and yet I never found any difficulty in tak-
ing in the course of the morning quite as many fish as could
easily be carried home.

544 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

So far, indeed, is the Heron from injuring the interests of the
angler, that it is a positive benefactor. Mr. Waterton, who was
obliged by the continual burrowing of water-rats to drain and fill
up a series of large ponds, makes the following remarks on the
bird : " Had I known then as much as I do now of the valuable
services of the Heron, and had there been a good heronry near
the place, I should not have made the change. The draining of
the ponds did not seem to lessen the number of rats in the brook ;
but soon after the Herons had settled here to breed, the rats be-
came exceedingly scarce, an*d now I rarely see one in the place
where formerly I could observe numbers sitting on the stones at
the mouth of their holes as soon as the sun had gone below the
horizon."

When the Heron flies to its nest from any great distance, it gen-
erally ascends to a considerable height, and is in the habit of ut-
tering a curious and very harsh cry, which at once tells the nat-
uralist that a Heron is on the wing. When a Heron passes im-
mediately over the observer the effect is very remarkable, the
long, stretched-out legs and neck and slender body looking like a
large knitting-needle supported on enormous wings.

To see the Heron alight on its nest or on a branch is rather a
curious sight. The bird descends, drops its long legs, places its
feet on the branch, and then flaps its huge wings as if to get its
balance before it settles down. The rustics have an idea that a
Heron is obliged to allow its legs to dangle on either side of the
nest while it sits on its eggs, and some will aver that a hole is
made in the nest through which the legs can be thrust. It is
scarcely necessary to say that the construction of a bird's legs pre-
vents it from assuming such an attitude, and that the long Heron
can sit as easily upon its pale green eggs as the short-limbed do-
mestic fowl on her white eggs.

Some of our common British birds build nests that can vie, in
point of beauty and delicacy, with any nest made by birds of oth-
er lands. It is scarcely possible to conceive a nest which is more
worthy of admiration than that of the Long-tailed Titmouse,
which has already been described ; and in their own way, the
houses erected by the Chaffinch and Goldfinch are quite as beau-
tiful. As there are some points of similarity in the two nests,
they will be mentioned in connection with each other.

First we will take the nest of the Chaffinch (Fringilla coelebs).

THE CHAFFINCH.

545

Although the beautifully-spotted eggs are plentiful in the col-
lection of every nest-hunting school-boy, they do not come into
his little museum for some time. The eggs of the blackbird,
thrush, and hedge-warbler are generally the first to be found,
because the nests in which they are contained are so conspicuous.
But the nest of the Chaffinch is never easily seen, and its discov-
ery requires a special training of the eye.

Neat of the Chaffinch.

An experienced nest-hunter will always detect it, and it is
amusing to watch the bewildered expression of a novice to whom
a Chaffinch nest is pointed out, and who can not see it in spite of
all the indications of his instructor. The bird likes to find the
fork of a tree or bush, where several branches are thrown out
from one spot, and so as to form a kind of cup in which the nest
can lie. Tall hawthorns, or even sloe or crab-trees, especially if
they grow in thick hedges, are favorite trees with the Chaffinch,

Mm

546 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

and a luxuriant and untrirnmed hedgerow is always prolific in
Chaffinch nests.

Within the forked branches the bird constructs its nest, and
does so in rather a singular manner. The chief material is wool,
which is matted together so as to form a kind of loose felt, and
with this felt are woven delicate mosses, spider-webs, cottony
down, and lichens. The last-mentioned materials are stuck most
ingeniously upon the outside of the nest, and have the effect of
making it look exactly like a natural excrescence from the tree
in which it is placed.

This pretty nest is generally deep in proportion to its width,
and is lined with hairs, arranged in a most methodical manner, so
as to form a cup for the eggs. The hair of the cow is much used
by the Chaffinch, which may be seen collecting its stock of hairs
from the fields wherein cows are pastured ; not plucking them di-
rectly from the body of the animal, but searching for them in the
crevices of the trees and posts against which the cattle are accus-
tomed to rub themselves. Mostly, the bird can only procure
single hairs; but when it is fortunate enough to find a tuft or
bunch of hairs, it pulls them out, and works them separately into
the nest, so as to insure the needful uniformity. The hair of the
horse is largely used by the Chaffinch, as is the fur of several
other animals ; but in the generality of nests the hairs of the cow
predominate.

The texture of the nest is very strong, and, owing to the nature
of the materials, is very elastic, returning to its original shape even
after severe pressure. Boys seldom take the eggs of the Chaffinch,
because they are so plentiful ; but they are too apt to take the
nest itself, knowing that it makes a safe and convenient basket
for the eggs of rarer birds, and forgetting that they cause much
sorrow to the poor birds that have spent so much trouble in pre-
paring their home.

As I have already mentioned, there is some resemblance be-
tween the nest of the chaffinch and that of the Goldfinch {Frin-
gilla carduelis).

In point of beauty neither yields to the other, for the materials
are much the same, and the mode of structure is nearly identical.
The nest of the Goldfinch, however, is shallower than that of the
chaffinch, and the lichens and moss of which it is partly made are
not stuck on the outside, but are woven so deeply into the walls
that the whole surface is quite smooth.

THE GOLDFINCH.

547

Nest of the Goldfinch.

The position of the two nests, however, is very different. In-
stead of choosing the forks of a bough, the Goldfinch likes to
make its nest near the end of a horizontal branch, so that it waves
about and dances up and down as the branch is swayed by the
wind. It might be thought that the eggs would be shaken out
by a tolerably sharp breeze, and such would indeed be the case
were they not kept in their place by the form of the nest. If one
of the best examples be examined, it will be seen to have the edge
thickened and slightly turned inward, so that, when the nest is
tilted on one side by the swaying of the bough, the eggs are still
retained within. I have seen the branches of a tree violently
agitated by ropes and sticks, and noticed that the eggs in a Gold-
finch's nest retained their position until the branch was struck
upward close to the spot on which the nest was made, all the
previous agitation having failed to dislodge them.

548 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

The lining of the Goldfinch's nest is unlike that which is used
by the chaffinch. The latter bird mostly employs hair, while the
former makes great use of vegetable down, such, as can be ob-
tained from the willow, the coltsfoot, and other plants. Like
other birds, the Goldfinch will not take needless trouble, and if it
can find a stray tuft of cotton wool, will carry it off and work it
into the nest. Sheep wool is also used for the same purpose ; but
the bird likes nothing so well as down, and will use it in prefer-
ence to any other material. On this soft bed repose the five
pretty eggs, white, tinged with blue, and diversified with small
grayish-purple spots. Now and then a small streak is seen ; but
the spots are the rule, and the streaks the exception.

Altogether, it is hardly possible to find a more beautiful group
than is made by a pair of Goldfinches, their nest, and eggs.

The nest of the Bullfinch (Pyrrhula vulgaris) is unlike that
of the goldfinch, though it is sometimes found in similar localities.
This bird seems to be rather capricious in its ideas of nest-making,
sometimes preferring trees, and sometimes building in shrubs.

There was a little spinney which I once knew, in which were
any number of Bullfinch nests, the underwood being very attract-
ive to the birds. All the nests were built very low, seldom more
than four feet from the ground, and, to the best of my recollection,
were placed among the branches of hazel and dogwood. The
nest of the Bullfinch is by no means so neat and smooth as that
of the goldfinch, but is made in a much looser manner, the foun-
dation being formed of slender twigs, usually those of the birch,
and the inner wall of the nest woven of delicate fibrous roots.
This wall is flimsy in structure, rather shallow, and neither so
deep nor so round as that of the goldfinch. The lining is made
of similar materials, but of a finer kind.

The quantity of sticks used as the foundation for this nest
varies according to the kind of branch on which it is placed ; for
when the bird selects a forked twig, such as that of the hazel or
dogwood, it uses a considerable quantity of sticks ; but when it
places its nest on the nearly horizontal spray of the fir, it finds a
sufficient foundation ready made, and only just lays a few twigs
to fill up a blank space. The egg of the Bullfinch is something-
like that of the goldfinch, but larger and more conspicuously
spotted.

In some works upon the eggs and nests of birds, the Bullfinch

THE BLUE-EYED YELLOW WARBLER. 5^9

is said to build in bushes of considerable height and size. Now
this is not necessarily the case, inasmuch as the spinney which
has just been mentioned was composed entirely of trees and low
brushwood, and the Bullfinches always preferred the latter. I cer-
tainly have often found their nests in tall bushes, and sometimes
in trees ; but they were always placed at so low an elevation that
the height of the tree or bush had no effect on that of the nests.

If the reader will refer to page 199, he will see a short account
of the Hoop-shaver Bee, which strips off the down that clothes
the stem of the common bladder campion, or white-bottle (Silene
inflata), and uses it for the lining of her nest.

There is a bird found in North America which has a similar
habit, peeling off the downy hairs of plants, and using them in
the structure of its nest. This is the pretty little Blue-eyed
Yellow Warbler (Sylvia citrinetta), remarkable for the contrast
afforded by its blue bill and eyelids with the golden yellow of its
head and breast.

When the bird builds her nest, she places it in the foot of a
shrub, either among briers or under them, and weaves its outer
walls of vegetable fibre, using flax or tow whenever she can find
it. The walls of the nest are strongly made, and woven firmly
into the twigs that support it. When she has finished the outer
nest, the bird goes to the fields, and carries off the hair of cattle
and other animals, and weaves them into a lining, which is made
softer and warmer by the downy hairs which grow on the stems
of certain ferns, and which the bird plucks off with great address.

It is not only a pretty, but a useful and interesting bird. It is
useful, because it is one of the insect-eaters, and may be constantly
seen at work among the leaves, picking up the little green cater-
pillars which destroy the trees, and which form its chief food.
Moreover, it brings up two broods of young during the year, each
brood being four and five in number, so that the havoc which it
makes among the caterpillars may be imagined. It is interesting
on account of the love which it bears toward its young, and its
undaunted courage in defending them. When it is free from the
cares of a family it is as timid as any other bird, and makes the
best of its way from the danger ; but if its nest be approached
while the eggs or young are still in it, the little bird seems to lose
all fear, and devotes itself to the task of decoying away the ap-
proaching foe. It pretends to be very ill or lame, stretches out

550 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

its neck, trails its wings, drops its tail, and flutters feebly along
the branches, in order to delude the enemy into an idea that it is
so lame that it can easily be caught. The male is even a greater
adept than the female at this practice, and, if he thinks that he
has not decoyed the intruder far enough, he will slip through the
branches, fly round, and repeat the process.

Another North American bird is a mighty nest-maker, trust-
ing for safety to the inaccessible nature of the tree on which its
home is placed. This is the well-known Bald-headed Eagle,
sometimes called the Bird of Washington (Falco leucocephalus),
which has been accepted as the emblem of the United States of
America. The nest of this bird has been admirably described by
the two great masters of American ornithology, Audubon and
Wilson ; and as it is not easy to improve upon the language of
those who were at the same time good observers and practiced
writers, their accounts will be given in their own words. The
reader will perceive that the two histories are placed side by
side, because the points that are omitted by one are supplied by
the other.

I may mention that the term " bald-headed," as applied to this
splendid bird, is by no means correct, because the head is feather-
ed as densely as any other part of the body ; but as the head of
the adult bird is white, it produces an effect, when viewed at a
distance, as if it were deprived altogether of feathers, and covered
with a white skin. The following account is by Wilson :

" The White-headed Eagle is seldom seen alone, the mutual at-
tachment which two individuals form when they first pair seem-
ing to continue until one of them dies or is destroyed. They hunt
for the support of each other, and seldom feed apart, but usually
drive off other birds of the same species. They commence their
amatory intercourse at an earlier period than any other land bird
with which I am acquainted, generally in the month of Decem-
ber.

" At this time, along the Mississippi, or by the margin of some
lake not far in the interior of the forest, the male and female birds
are observed making a great bustle, flying about and circling in
various ways, uttering a loud cackling noise, alighting on the
dead branches of the tree on which their nest is already prepar-
ing, or in the act of being repaired, and caressing each other. In
the beginning of January incubation commences. I shot a female

THE BALD-HEADED EAGLE. 551

on the 17th of that month, as she sat on her eggs, on which the
chicks had made considerable progress.

" The nest, which in some instances is of great size, is usually
placed on a very tall tree, destitute of branches to a considerable
height, but by no means always a dead one. It is never seen on
rocks. It is composed of sticks from three to five feet in length,
large pieces of turf, rank weeds, and Spanish moss in abundance,
whenever that substance happens to be near. When finished, it
measures from five to six feet in diameter; and so great is the
accumulation of materials, that it sometimes measures the same
in depth, it being occupied for a great number of years in suc-
cession, and receiving some augmentation each season. When
placed in a naked tree, between the forks of the branches, it is
conspicuously seen at a great distance.

" The eggs, which are from two to four, more commonly two
or three, are of a dull white color, and equally rounded at both
ends, some of them being occasionally granulated. Incubation
lasts for more than three weeks ; but I have not been able to as-
certain its precise duration, as I have observed the female, on dif-
ferent occasions, sit for a few days on the nest before laying the
first egg. Of this I assured myself by climbing to the nest every
day in succession during her temporary absence — a rather peril-
ous undertaking when the bird is sitting.

"I have seen the young birds not larger than middle-sized
pullets. At this time they are covered with a soft cottony kind
of down, their bills and legs appearing disproportionately large.
Their first plumage is of a grayish color, tinted with brown of
different depths of tint, and before the parents drive them off
from the nest they are fully fledged.

" I once caught three young eagles of this species, when fully
fledged, by having the tree on which their nest was cut down. It
caused great trouble to secure them, as they could fly and scram-
ble much faster than any of our party could run. They, howev-
er, gradually became fatigued, and at length were so exhausted
as to offer no resistance when we were securing them with cords.
This happened on the border of the Lake Pontchartrain, in the
month of April. The parents did not think fit to come within
gunshot of the tree while the axe was at work."

"We will now turn to the second of these celebrated ornitholo-
gists, and see what he has to say on the nesting of this splendid
bird :

552 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

" The nest of this species is generally fixed on a very large and
lofty tree, often in a swamp or morass, and difficult to be ascend-
ed. On some noted tree of this description, often a pine or cy-
press, the Bald Eagle builds, year after year, for a long series of
years. When both male and female have been shot from the nest,
another pair has soon after taken possession. The nest is large,
being added to and repaired every season, until it becomes a black
prominent mass, observable at a considerable distance. It is form-
ed of large sticks, sods, earthy rubbish, hay, moss, etc.

" Many have stated to me that the female lays first a single
egg, and that, after having sat on it for some time, she lays an-
other ; when the first is hatched, the warmth of that, it is pretend-
ed, hatched the other. Whether this be correct or not I can not
determine, but a very respectable gentleman of Virginia assured
me that he saw a large tree cut down, containing the nest of a
Bald Eagle, in which were two young, one of which appeared
nearly three times as large as the other.

" As a proof of their attachment to their young, a person near
Norfolk informed me that, in clearing a piece of wood on his
place, they met with a large dead pine-tree on which was a Bald
Eagle's nest and young. The tree being on fire more than half
way up, and the flames rapidly ascending, the parent eagle dart-
ed round and among the flames until her plumage was so much
injured that it was with difficulty she could make her escape, and
even then she several times attempted to return to relieve her
offspring."

The bird nest on our list is rather variable in its nesting.

The Golden Oriole (Oriolus galbula) is seldom seen in En-
gland, and its nest even more seldom. Every year, however, a
few stray nests are built in this country, as there are few years in
which the journals devoted to natural history do not contain a
notice of the bird being seen, and occasionally of its nest being
found. In the warmer parts of the Continent it is plentiful, and
in Italy is regularly exposed in the markets toward the middle of
autumn, when it has indulged in fruit for some time, and has be-
come very plump and fat.

In this condition it is well known to epicures under the name
of Becquafiga, corrupted into Beccafico. It is not easily procured,
as it is a very wary bird, and does not like to venture far from
covert. In the autumn, however, its love of fruit conquers its fear

THE GOLDEN ORIOLE.

553

of man, and it haunts the orchards in numbers, making no small
havoc among the fruit. Even under such circumstances it is not
easy of approach, and the gunner will seldom manage to secure
his prey except by imitating its peculiar and flute-like notes. He
must, however, be very careful in his mimicry, for the bird has a
critical ear, and if it detects the imitator, is sure to slip through
the foliage and fly off to its forest strong-hold.

Golden Orioles and Nest.

The nest of the Golden Oriole is always placed near the ex-
tremity of a branch, and in some cases is so constructed that it al-
most deserves to be ranked among the pensiles. It is always a
pretty nest, and the accompanying illustration conveys a good
idea of its general form. It is always more or less cup -like in
shape, but the comparative depth of the cup is very variable, as

554 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

in -some cases it is scarcely deeper in proportion than that of the
goldfinch, and rather sancer- shaped, while in others the depth
even exceeds the width. Perhaps the nest may be altered in
shape after the female begins to deposit her eggs, as is known to
be the case with many birds, the additions being always made to
the margin.

It is a remarkable fact that this enlargement of the nest should
be common both to birds and insects. The reader may perhaps
remember that the wasp, as well as other hymenoptera, lays an
egg in the cell while it is yet shallow, and adds to the cell in pro-
portion to the growth of the grub. The time of year, therefore,
at which the nest of the Golden Oriole is found will have an in-
fluence on its shape, as the nest which is taken in the early spring,
before the eggs are laid, will probably be shallower than that
which is found in autumn, after the eggs have been hatched and
the young reared.

The object for deepening the nest may probably be traced to
the weather which happens to prevail. If the winds be light,
the nest may remain in its flat and saucer- like form without
endangering the safety of the eggs ; but if the season should
be inclement and tempestuous, a deeper nest is needed in order
to prevent the eggs or young from being flung out of their
home.

The body of the nest is formed chiefly of vegetable substances,
usually the stems of different grasses, which are interwoven with
wool, and thus made into a tolerably strong fabric. The female
bird is said to be very affectionate, and to sit so closely on her
nest that she will almost suffer the hand to be laid upon her be-
fore she will leave her post. In the illustration, the female bird
is standing upright on the branch, and looking upward, while the
male is bending over the bough, and peering downward, as if at
some fancied foe. He can always be distinguished from his mate
by the brighter gold of his plumage, the black spot between the
eye and the beak, and the deeper black of his wings ; whereas in
the female a tinge of blue invades the yellow, changing it to yel-
lowish-green, the wings are brown, edged with gray, and the black
spot in front of the eye is altogether absent. Moreover, the
breast and belly are marked with many longitudinal dashes of
grayish-brown.

One of the most variable of birds in its nesting is the well-

THE RED-WINGED STARLING. 555

known Red -winged Starling of Northern America {Tderus
Phmniceus).

This beautiful bird derives its popular name from the fiery
scarlet of the lesser wing-coverts, contrasting so boldly with the
jet black of the remaining plumage. It is known by several op-
probious names in its own country, such as Corn -thief, Maize-
thief, etc., because it is popularly thought to live upon corn,
whereas, like our starling, it is a most insatiable eater of the
grubs, caterpillars, and other creatures which infest the corn-
fields, and only eats corn at a certain time. There is, however,
one season in the year in which the Red-winged Starling becomes
an arrant thief.

It is said that every living creature can be bribed, if the right
bribe can only be found, and in the case of this bird, the newly-
developed maize-grains present a temptation which it can not re-
sist. It is not alone in this predilection, for there are many other
birds, and some quadrupeds, the bear being the most conspic-
uous, which revel in the sweet, pulpy, succulent Indian corn.
Even mankind is overcome with this delicacy. The white man
fills his pockets with the plump ears, and munches them as he
goes on with his business, and the copper -skinned native half
stupefies himself by gorging the cream-like grains. Small blame,
therefore, to the bird for following an example which is set by its
superiors. But before the maize is developed, and after it is
hardened, the Red-winged Starling depends chiefly on insect food
for its subsistence, and is, therefore, a truly useful bird, deserving
to be protected rather than destroyed, and only requiring to be
driven out of the maize - plantations for a week or two in the
course of the year.

The nest of this bird is almost always built in morasses where
reeds are plentiful, and in such places it almost invariably roosts,
flocking to them toward nightfall in vast masses that absolutely
blacken the air, now appearing as a vast dull cloud, and now
suddenly flecked with blood-red patches, as the black bodies and
scarlet wings are alternately turned to the spectator.

Somewhere about the end of April the Red-winged Starling
begins to make its nest. This is sometimes placed on the ground,
sometimes on a grass tussock, and sometimes in a branch, thus
being more variable in position than is the nest of any other bird.
The mode of structure and materials of the nest differ with the
locality.

556 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

When the nest is placed on the ground, it is composed of a
few rushes and grass-stems, the chief care of the bird being to
secure a soft lining of grass-blades. When it is built in a grass
or rush tussock, the stems are drawn together and held in their
places by long grasses, so as to make a hollow wherein the nest
may repose.

But when it is placed on a branch it is much more compli-
cated. The bushes which are found in swampy places are always
so slender and flexible that much care is required in order to
render them capable of bearing the nest. The bird, therefore,
takes a quantity of wet rushes and long grasses, and twists them
round a number of twigs, intertwining them so as to bring these
twigs into a rudely-shaped hollow cylinder. From the same ma-
terials the body of the nest is formed, and the lining is made
from dry grass-blades. Little pains are taken to hide the nest,
because the swampy nature of the ground prevents the intrusion
of many foes, and in some cases three or four nests are seen close
to each other on a single bush.

One of the common American birds, the Yellow-breasted
Chat (Icteria viridis), is not only remarkable for its really pretty
nest, but for the manner in which it defends its home.

Although so chary of being seen that an experienced ornithol-
ogist may follow it for an hour by its voice, and never catch a
glimpse of the bird, it is full of talk, and as soon as a human
being approaches, it begins to vociferate reproaches in an odd
series of syllabic sounds, which can be easily imitated. Mocking
the bird is an unfailing method of doubling its anger, and will
cause it to follow the imitator for a long distance, although it
will, even under these circumstances, keep itself hidden in the
foliage. Wilson's account of the curious sounds which it utters
is very graphic and interesting. "On these occasions his re-
sponses are constant and rapid, strongly expressive of anger and
anxiety, and while the bird itself remains unseen, the voice shifts
from place to place among the bushes, as if it proceeded from a
spirit. First is heard a repetition of short notes, resembling the
whistling of the wings of a duck or teal, beginning loud and
rapid, and falling lower and lower, till they end in detached
notes. Then a succession of others, something like the barking
of young puppies, is followed by a variety of hollow, guttural
sounds, each eight or ten times repeated, more like those proceed-

THE YELLOW-THROATED CHAT. 557

ing from the throat of a quadruped than that of a bird, which
are succeeded by others not unlike the mewiug of a cat, but con-
siderably hoarser.

"All these are uttered with great vehemence, in such different
keys and with such peculiar modulation of voice as sometimes
to seem at a considerable distance, and instantly as if just beside
you ; now on this side and now on that ; so that, from these ma-
noeuvres of ventriloquism, you are utterly at a loss to ascertain
from what particular spot or quarter they proceed. If the weath-
er be mild and serene, with clear moonlight, he continues gab-
bling in the same strange dialect, with very little intermission,
during the whole night, as if disputing with his own echoes.

" While the female is sitting, the cries of the male are still
more loud and incessant. When once aware that you have seen
him, he is less solicitous to conceal himself, and will sometimes
mount up into the air, almost perpendicularly, with his legs hang-
ing, descending, as he rose, by repeated jerks, as if highly irri-
tated, or, as is vulgarly said, ' dancing mad.' All this noise and
gesticulation we must attribute to his extreme affection for his
mate and young ; and when we consider the great distance from
which in all probability he comes, the few young produced at a
time, and that seldom more than once in the season, we can see
the wisdom of Providence very manifestly in the ardency of his
passions."

The nest which the bird defends with such skill and courage
is very well concealed in a dense thicket, and the .bird is always
best pleased if it can find a bramble-bush thick in foliage and
well beset with thorns. Sometimes it is forced to content itself
with a vine or a cedar, and in any case it is seldom more than
four or five feet from the ground. The outer wall is made of
leaves, within which is a layer formed of the thin bark of the
grape-vine, and the lining is formed of dried grasses and fibrous
roots of plants.

An allied bird, the Yellow-throated Chat (Vireo flavifrons),
makes a nest somewhat similar in materials, though not in locali-
ty, to that of the preceding bird. It is usually fixed in the hori-
zontal branch of a tree or bush, and is made from the bark of
the grape-vine, moss, and lichens, and is lined with fine vegetable
fibres.

Of our four British pigeons, two are branch -builders. The

558 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

Stockdove places its nest in holes in trees, in holes in the ground,
or on the tops of pollard oaks, willows, and similarly crippled
trees. The Rockdove makes its rude nest in the crevices of the
rocks which it frequents. But the Ringdove and the Turtledove
are true branch-builders, and are therefore noticed in this place.

We will first take the Ringdove (Columba palumbus), some-
times called the Wood-pigeon, the Woodquest or queest, and the
Cushat.

The nest of the Ringdove is placed in a variety of localities,
for the bird is not in the least particular in this respect. Some-
times it is situated near the top of a lofty tree, and sometimes it
is found in a hedge only a few feet from the ground. I have seen
nests in both localities.

Mr. Waterton mentions a curious circumstance connected with
this bird. In a spruce fir-tree there was a nest of a magpie con-
taining seven eggs, which were removed, and those of the jack-
daw substituted. Below this nest a Ringdove had chosen to fix
her abode, and so the curious fact was seen, that on the same tree,
in close proximity to each other, were magpies, jackdaws, and
Ringdoves, and all living in perfect amity. It might have been
supposed that the magpies and jackdaws would have robbed the
nest of the Ringdove, but such was not the case. Moreover, the
bird knew instinctively that she would not be endangered by her
neighbors, for she came to the tree after the magpie had settled
in it.

The nest of the Ringdove is of so simple a character as scarcely
to deserve the name. The bird chooses a suitable spray, and lays
upon it a number of sticks, which cross each other so as to make
a nearly fiat platform. Many birds make a similar platform as
the foundation of their nest, but with the Ringdove it constitutes
the entire nest. So slight is the texture of the platform, that
when the two white eggs are laid upon it they can be discerned
from below by a practiced eye, and it really seems wonderful that
they can retain their position on such a structure.

Moreover, the open meshes of the nest allow the wind to blow
freely between the sticks, so that nothing would seem to be more
uncomfortable for the young. Above, they can certainly be shel-
tered by the warm body and protecting wings, but below they
seem to be exposed to every blast. Yet they find shelter enough,
and not only find it, but make it. With the generality of birds
the droppings are conveyed away by the parents, but with the

THE RINGDOVE.

559

Ringdove they are allowed to remain, when they rapidly fill up
all the open interstices, and form a dry scentless plaster, which
effectually defends the tender bodies of the young from the wind,
and has the farther effect of consolidating and strengthening the
nest.

Ringdove and Nest.

Although the nests are plentiful enough, and the eggs are com-
mon in the cabinet of oologists, it is not very easy to find a nest
that is furnished with this curious plaster, probably because some
one of the many foes which persecute the Eingdove has discov-
ered the nest, stolen the eggs, or killed the parent before the
young birds were hatched.

It has already been mentioned that, with many branch-building
birds, the thickness of the nest, or of the platform on which it is
placed, is regulated by the exposed or sheltered position of the
branch, and such is the case with the Eingdove. Although, in
some instances, the platform is so flimsy that the eggs can be seen
through the interstices, in other cases it is from half an inch to an
entire inch in thickness. In all cases, the longest twigs are first
laid, and followed by those of smaller size ; and, although the
whole structure is very rude, it is always made with sufficient
care to assume a tolerably circular shape.

The Turtledove (Columba turtur) builds a nest of very similar
form, and, if possible, even slighter in construction.

560 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

Every one knows the common catchweed so plentiful in waste
ground. The long trailing stems of this plant are used by a pret-
ty little bird in making its nest, and are most ingeniously twined
amono- the branches into the needful shape. The bird which uses
this plant is the Whitethroat ( Curruca cinerea), sometimes called
the Haychat and Nettle-creeper. Its ordinary name is due to the
white feathers of the throat, and it is called Nettle-creeper because
it is so active among the weeds that fringe the hedgerows. The
nest is always placed low, and I have mostly found it toward the
top of some stubby bush or shrub, about three feet from the
ground. Although placed in such localities, it is not very easy
of discovery, as it is well hidden by the foliage, and in most in-
stances the boughs must be pressed aside before the nest can be
made clearly visible. Although the catchweed is used by the
bird in making the frame-work of the nest, it does not consider
itself bound to employ no other substance, but uses grass-blades
and vegetable fibres. The lining of the nest is simply made of
fine hay, among which are twined a variable number of horse-
hairs, sometimes only twenty or thirty, and sometimes in such a
quantity as almost to conceal the hay. It is in allusion to the
lining of the nest that the bird is called Haychat. The nest va-
ries much in thickness, probably in proportion to the density of
the bush in which it is placed.

The celebrated Mocking-bird of America {Turdus [or Mimus]
polyglottus) is also one of the branch-builders.

The situation chosen by the bird is always variable, depending
almost entirely on the nature of the district and the character of
the inhabitants. Should the bird be resident in some wild part
of the country, it takes some pains to conceal its nest, choosing
the most impenetrable thicket that can be found. A thick thorn-
bush is a favorite spot, because the sharp points serve to deter in-
truders from forcing their way to the nest ; and the cedar is some-
times chosen, because its dark masses of foliage afford such a cov-
er for the nest that it can scarcely be detected even by one who
is looking for it.

But, should the bird build in some inhabited locality, where it
is taught by instinct that it will not be molested, it makes its nest
close to the house, and cares not to hide it. Six or seven feet from
the ground is the usual height at which the nest is placed, and the
bird has so little anxiety about its nest that it often builds upon

THE MOCKING-BIRD — THE WATER HEN. 561

the branches of a pear or apple tree. The nest itself is rather a
pleasing specimen of bird architecture, and is mostly built upon a
slight foundation of delicate twigs, intermixed with dry weeds of
the preceding year. The body of the nest is formed of straw,
grass, wool, and vegetable fibres, and the lining is almost wholly
composed of very fine fibrous roots.

Although the bird is so careless about concealing its nest, it is
jealously anxious about intruders, and attacks indiscriminately
any beast, reptile, or bird that approaches the favored spot. Dogs
are forced to run away from the sharp beak and buffeting wings
of the angry bird ; the cat finds that the ascent of a tree while a
pair of infuriated birds are pecking her nose and blinding her
eyes is an impracticable task, and even man himself is attacked
by the fearless defenders of the home.

The worst and most treacherous foe, however, is the black-
snake (Coryphodon constrictor), a harmless reptile, but one that is
much dreaded by uninstructed pedestrians, because it imitates the
manners of the rattlesnake with such fidelity that it is generally
reckoned among the poisonous serpents. This snake lives mostly
on rats, mice, young birds, and eggs, and in pursuit of the last-
mentioned dainties will ascend trees and traverse any branch
which holds a nest.

The very sight of the blacksnake inflames the Mocking-bird
with fury, and he instantly darts at it, avoiding its stroke with ad-
mirable quickness, and dealing a rapid succession of blows on the
reptile's head. The blacksnake is peculiarly vulnerable about
the head, and even tries to retreat, but is prevented from escaping
by the Mocking-bird, which redoubles his efforts, and easily beats
the reptile down. As soon as he sees his advantage, he seizes
the snake by the neck, lifts it from the ground, buffets it with his
wings, pecks it again as it drops, and ceases not until the hated
enemy is left dead on the ground.

The well-known Water Hen or Moor Hen (Gallinula Chlo-
ropus) is nearly, though not quite, as variable in its nesting as the
red-winged starling lately described. The nest is always placed
near the water, but the bird seems to be very indifferent about
the precise locality.

Sometimes it is made on the ground, and in that case is laid
anions; sedges and rushes where the water can not reach it. The
Water Hen, however, is not averse to nesting in a warm and com-

Nn

562

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

fortable place, for Mr. Waterton mentions that on one occasion,
when he had built a neat little brick house for a duck, and fur-
nished it with dry hay for a nest, a "Water Hen took possession
of it, and the duck had to find a home elsewhere.

Water Hen and Nest.

Sometimes the nest is made on a branch, and in that case the
bird selects a very low bough which overhangs the water. I have
found several nests thus placed, and in one case the only method
of getting at the nest was to enter the water and swim round to
it. It is a large and rudely-made nest, and from its size appears
to be more conspicuous than is really the case. When it is placed
on a bough, the twigs of the same branch often dip into the wa-
ter, and the nest looks like a bunch of weeds and other debris that
have floated down the stream and been arrested by the branch.

The similitude is increased by a curious habit of the bird.

THE WATER HEN. 563

When she leaves her nest, she pulls over her eggs a quantity of
the same substances as those which form the materials of the
nest, so that they are completely hidden from sight, and the form
of the nest is quite obscured. It is true that the nest is not un-
frequently found with the eggs exposed, but this apparent negli-
gence is always caused by the frightened bird dashing off at the
approach of the intruder, and having no time to cover her eggs
properly. The object of covering the eggs was once thought to
be the retention of heat, the neighborhood of water being imag-
ined to be injurious. As, however, many birds build as close to
the water as does the Water Hen, and do not cover the e»-gs, it is
evident that concealment, and not warmth, is the object to be at-
tained.

I may mention that the illustration was sketched from a nest
before it was removed, and that most of the nests have been
drawn in the same manner from actual objects.

The eggs are many in number, seldom less than six, and often
eight, and their united weight is far from inconsiderable, as they
are fully proportioned to the size of the bird. The young are the
oddest little beings imaginable, looking like spherical puffs of
black down rather than birds. They take to the water at once,
and if the reader can manage to watch the mother and her little
family, he will see one of the quaintest and prettiest groups that
our country can supply. The little black balls swim about quite
at their ease, keeping within a short distance of their parent, and
traversing the water with a rapidity that reminds the observer of
the gyrini, or whirligig beetles. In spite of the prolific nature of
the bird, it is not so numerous as it might be, having many ene-
mies in its youth, the worst of which is the pike, which comes up
silently from below, opens its terrible jaws, and absorbs the un-
suspecting bird.

564 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

CHAPTER XXIX.

FEATHERED BRANCH-BUILDERS {Continued).

The Sedge Warbler.— Its Nest and Loquacity.— The Reed Warbler.— Use of
its peculiar Tail. — Localities haunted by the Bird. — Song of the Reed Warbler.
— Its deep and beautifully-balanced Nest. — Color of the Eggs. — The Indigo
Bird. — The Capocier.— Familiarity of the Bird. — Le Vaillant's Experiments. —
How the Nest is made. — Division of Labor. — Lover's Quarrels. — Structure of the
Nest. — Humming-birds again.— The Fiery Topaz.— Its nocturnal Habits. — Ap-
pearance of the Nest.— Its Shape, and the Materials of which it is made. — The
Hermit Humming-birds and their Nests. — The Ruby-throated Humming-bird.
—Variable Dimensions of the Nest. — Concealment. — Mr. Webber and his Dis-
coveries.— Variable Form and Positions of the Nest. — Materials of which it is
made. — Its deceptive Exterior.— Feeding of the Young.— The Vervain Hum-
ming-bird.— How the Nest assumes its Shape. — The Red-backed Shrike.— Use
of the Shrike in Falconry.— Their singular Mode of Feeding. — Impaled Prey.—
Conspicuous Character of the Nest. — Popular Ideas concerning the Red-backed
Shrike. — Structure of the Nest. — The Hedge Sparrow. — Its proper Title. —
Carelessness about its Nest. — Foes of the Hedge Sparrow. — Its Fecundity.

Another bird that loves to build near water is the pretty lit-
tle Sedge Warbler (Salicaria phragmiiis).

The nest of this bird is placed at a very low elevation, usually
within a foot or so from the ground, and raised upon rushes, reeds,
or other coarse herbage, which is found abundantly in such places.
There is more material in the nest than might be supposed from
the size of the bird and the slender stems by which it is support-
ed. Viewed from the exterior, it seems to have the ordinary cup-
shaped form which is so prevalent among small birds, but looked
at from above, the apparent depth is seen to be owing to the mass
of material, the hollow being singularly small and shallow. It is
a well-made nest, the general frame-work being formed of leaves
of grass-blades, while strength, warmth, and density are attained
by the quantity of wool and hair which are woven into the fabric.

The Sedge Warbler is well known for its loquacity and its
ceaseless chatter. Should it be silent, a stone flung among the
reeds and sedges will always induce it to recommence its little
song.

The remarkably beautiful nest which is here shown is built by

THE EEED WARBLER.

565

one of the British birds, but is not often found, on account of the
localities where it is placed.

Nest of the Reed Warbler.

The architect of this nest is the Eeed Warbler {Salicaria [or
Curruca] arundinacea). It is a pretty little bird, bright brown
above, yellow-brown below. In some respects it resembles the
sedge warbler, but does not possess the remarkable wedge-shaped
tail of that bird. E. Mudie, in his History of British Birds, offers
the following suggestion respecting this difference of form. When
treating of the sedge warbler, he remarks that the slender head,
pointed bill, and wedge-shaped tail are useful to the bird by ena-
bling it to glide between the tall aquatic plants among which it
resides and finds its food. Of the Eeed Warbler he writes as fol-
lows:

" That the bird is not adapted for so many situations as the
sedge bird might be inferred from the different form of the tail,
which is more produced and not wedge-shaped, so that while it
answers better as a balance on the bending reeds or other flexible
aquatic plants, it would not be so convenient among the unyield-
ing sprays of a hedge or brake. The bird rarely, if ever, perches
upon the tops of reeds, even on its first arrival, and when the
song of invitation to a mate is given, its place is on a leaf or a

566 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

leaning stem, though upon an emergency it can cling to an up-
right one, the stiff feathers of the tail acting as a sort of prop.

" It is not easily raised, and remains but a very short time upon
the wing, but it is by no means timid on its perch, upon which,
if it be very flexible, it sits with its wings not quite closed, but
recovered, so as to have a little hold on the air, and thereby either
prevent its fall, or be read}', when a gust comes, to bear it to a
more secure footing. Its food is found wholly over the stagnant
waters. The Eeed Warbler does not come in until the reeds are
considerably advanced, and it departs before they are cut, so that
it dwells in peace ; and especially in the mornings, about the end
of May and the beginning of June, it may be observed with the
greatest ease."

Still, although the bird be common, and although it is bold
enough to admit of approach, it is not generally familiar, simply
because none but professed naturalists are likely to look for it in
the spots which it frequents. The Reed Warbler loves a large
patch of marshy land almost wholly covered with stagnant water,
and full of the reeds among which its home is made. Such a
place is not agreeable to the pedestrian ; for, although an hour
spent in wading through water knee-deep is no difficult or even
unpleasant task, yet no one likes to meet also with mud of vari-
ous and unknown depths, as is the case in the great reed swamps
where the birds most love to build. Even the song of the Eeed
Warbler does not attract attention. Though musical in tone, it is
very feeble in power and monotonous in character, consisting of
several hurried notes in a low warble, which can only be heard at
a little distance.

The nest of this bird is supported between three or four reeds,
as is shown in the illustration, and is remarkably deep in propor-
tion to its width. The object of this depth is evident. To bend
as a reed before the wind is a proverbial saying, and any one who
has seen a large mass of reeds on a stormy day must have been
impressed with their graceful curves. As the blasts of the wind
pass over them, they bend in successive waves like the billows
of the sea, and are sometimes bowed so low that their tips nearly
reach the water.

A nest, therefore, which rests on such pliant supports must be
thrown out of its perpendicular by every breath of wind, and un-
less it were very deep the eggs would be flung out. The great
depth, however, of the nest counteracts the deflection of the

THE REED WARBLER — THE INDIGO BIRD. 567

reeds ; and, however fiercely the storm may rage, the Eeed War-
bler sits securely in her nest, even though it be sometimes nearly
bowed to the surface of the water. The materials of the nest are
generally taken from the immediate neighborhood, the body of
the nest being composed of broken rushes and moss bound to-
gether with reed leaves, and the lining made almost wholly of
cows' hair.

In the illustration the nest is represented as it appears during
a rather smart breeze. The reeds are all bowed down by the
force of the wind, and the nest is leaning so much to one side that
its contents would be flung into the water were it of the ordinary
cup-shaped form. The tiny inmates, however, are perfectly se-
cure in their home, and crouch in the bottom of the nest, so that
there is no fear that they may be thrown out. The parent birds
are busily attending on their little family, one having just brought
an insect which all the gaping mouths are eager to devour, while
the other is setting off in its turn to perform the like office. The
little eggs are rather pleasing in color, being very pale green, al-
most fading to whitish -gray in parts, and being mottled and
speckled with brown or green darker than the ground hue of the
shell. As is usually the case with similar birds, they are four or
five in number.

Many foreign birds are excellent branch-builders.

One of the best known is a lovely little bird, which is familiar
to us through the mediumship of taxidermists, who are always
glad to insert a few specimens in their glass cases of brightly
plumaged birds. This is the Indigo Bird, or Blue Linnet of
America (Spiza cyanea), which derives its name from the hue of
its feathers. Viewed in some lights, the plumage is a rich, deep
azure, shining with a satiny lustre in the direct light of the sun-
beams, and deepening into indigo in the shadows. But the most
remarkable point in the hue is, that in certain lights it changes
to that peculiar green which is known to artists as " verditer," so
that the bird seems absolutely to change its color if its position
be shifted for only a few inches. Consequently, a well-arranged
group will have two specimens placed in such a manner that one
glows in all the glory of its azure dress, while another is vivid
green. The wings are black, and retain their color in all lights.

The nest of the Indigo Bird is set in a bush, and, according to
Wilson, is upheld by two twigs, one passing up each side, so as to

568 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

preserve the balance. To the twigs it is firmly bound with the
strong flaxen fibres of which the walls are formed, and its lining
is made of fine grasses.

In Southern Africa there is a small, simply colored, but inter-
esting bird, called by Le Vaillant the Capocter (Drymoica macu-
losa), because it builds in a cotton-yielding tree, called by the Dutch
colonist Capoc-bosche.

The attention of that naturalist was directed to the bird in the
following manner.

Being, in common with all true naturalists, a lover of birds in
their living state, and being in no wise disposed to kill them
without necessity, he had contrived to tame a pair of little brown
birds, which at last became so familiar that they would enter his
tent. On these terms they remained until the beginning of the
breeding season, when they began to come less regularly, and
then to absent themselves for several successive days. About
this time they became thieves. M. Le Vaillant was accustomed
to keep on his table a quantity of tow and cotton wool, which he
used in stuffing and otherwise preparing the skins which he had
procured for his collection. The birds seemed suddenly to take
a wonderful fancy to the tow and cotton wool, and were continu-
ally flying off with them, sometimes stealing a piece that was
nearly as large as both the birds together.

Struck with this sudden fancy of the birds, Le Vaillant de-
termined to watch them, and soon traced them to a capoc-bosche-
tree which grew at some distance, and in a remarkably retired
spot. Among the branches of this tree they had already begun
their nest, which consisted of a quantity of moss pressed tightly
into the forks of a bough, and which was at the time only in a
rudimentary condition. The moss, in fact, was the foundation of
the nest, upon which the beautiful walls were intended to be
built, just as in the habitation of many other birds there is a
foundation of substances more solid than the materials of which
the walls are made.

Into this nest the Capociers were weaving the stolen stores of
cotton wool, working it in a manner that will be presently de-
scribed. Le Vaillant soon 'discovered that the legitimate sub-
stance of the nest- walls was the soft white down produced by
certain plants, and that the birds used an enormous amount of
materials in comparison with their own size. As, however, they

THE CAPOCIEK. 569

found that upon the naturalist's table was always a plentiful sup-
ply of vegetable down and fibres ready plucked, they ingeniously
saved themselves the trouble of collecting, and simply resorted to
the hospitable tent.

The male was the principal collector of materials, and the fe-
male the chief architect. He used to fly off, and return with a
mass of cotton wool, moss, or tow, and deposit it close to the spot
where his mate was at work. Then she would take the materials,
arrange them, press them into form, and only ask his assistance
in carrying out her plans. He pressed, and pecked, and pulled
the cotton wool so as to reduce it to a kind of felt, but did not
seem to originate any architectural ideas, leaving them to his more
ingenious mate.

Le Vaillant's account of the mode of working is so interesting
and elegant, that, in justice to himself, it must be given in his
own words. After describing the process of fetching materials
and laying them in their places, he proceeds as follows :

"This agreeable occupation was often interrupted by innocent
and playful gambols, though the female appeared to be so active-
ly and anxiously employed about her building as to have less
relish for trifling than the male, and she even punished him for
his frolics by pecking him well with her beak. He, on the other
hand, fought in his turn, pecked, pulled down the work which
they had done, prevented the female from continuing her labors,
and, in a word, seemed to tell her, ' On account of this work you
refuse to be my playmate, therefore you shall not do it.'

"It will scarcely be credited that, entirely from what I saw and
knew respecting these little altercations, I was both surprised and
angry at the female. In order, however, to save the fabric from
spoliation, she left off working, and fled from bush to bush, for
the express purpose of teasing him. Soon afterward, having
made matters up again, the female returned to her labor, and the
male sang for several minutes in the most animated strains.
After his song was concluded he began again to occupy himself
with the work, and with fresh ardor carried such materials as his
companion required, till the spirit of frolic again became buoy-
ant, and a scene similar to that which I have described occurred.
I have witnessed eight interruptions of this kind in one morning.
How happy birds are! They are certainly the privileged creat-
ures of nature, thus to work and sport alternately, as fancy
prompts them.

570 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

" On the third day the birds began to rear the side walls of the
nest, after having rendered the body compact by repeatedly press-
ing the materials with their breasts, and turning themselves round
' upon them in all directions. They first formed a plain border,
which they afterward trimmed, and upon this they piled up tufts
of cotton, which was fitted into the structure by beating and press-
ing it with their breasts and the shoulders of their wings, taking-
care to arrange any projecting corner with their beaks, so as to
interlace it into the tissue, and to render it more firm. As the
work proceeded, the contiguous branches of the bush were envel-
oped in the side walls, but without damaging the circular cavity
of the interior. This part of the nest required many materials, so
that I was quite astonished at the quantity which they used.

" On the seventh day their task was finished, and, being anx-
ious to examine the interior, I determined to introduce my finger,
when I felt an egg that had been probably laid that morning, for
on the previous evening I could see that there was no egg in it,
as it was not quite covered in.

" This beautiful edifice, which was as white as snow, was nine
inches in height on the outside, while in the inside it was not
more than five. Its external form was very irregular, on account
of the branches which it had been found necessary to inclose ; but
the inside exactly resembled a pullet's egg placed with the small-
er end upward. Its greatest diameter was five inches, and the
smallest four. The entrance was two thirds or more of the whole
height as seen on the outside, but within it almost reached the
arch of the ceiling above."

One of the most remarkable points of this singularly beautiful
nest is the firm texture of the walls. Externally, the nest looks
as if it were a mere large hollow bunch of cotton wool with a hole
near the top, and seems to be so fragile that the eggs would fall
through the fabric. But when the inside of the nest is viewed, it
is seen to be composed of a kind of felt, as firm and close as if it
had been formed by human art, so that neither wind nor wet can
penetrate ; and it is capable of upholding a much greater weight
than would be introduced into it. To pull out a tuft of the cot-
ton wool is impossible without tearing a hole in the fabric, so
closely are the delicate fibres interwoven with each other.

In" the accompanying illustration are shown the nests of two
species of Humming-bird.

THE FIERY TOPAZ.

571

The oddly -shaped nest which occupies the upper part of the
drawing is made by the Fiery Topaz (Topaza pyra), one of the
most magnificent of these lovely birds. Indeed, Prince Lucien
Bonaparte calls it the most beautiful of the Trochilidse, and it is
hardly possible to imagine a bird that can surpass it in brilliancy.
The body is fiery scarlet, the head velvet-black, the throat glitter-
ing emerald, with a patch of crimson in the centre ; the lower part
of the back is also green, and the long, slender, crossed feathers
of the tail are purple with a green gloss. So magnificent a bird
can have but few rivals, and there is only one species which even

Fiery Topaz and Hermit.

approaches it in beauty. This is the Crimson Topaz {Topaza pel-
Id), a bird which is nearly allied to it, and which much resembles
it in general coloring. It may, however, be distinguished by the
color of the body, which is crimson instead of scarlet.

Curiously enough, although it is bedecked with resplendent
hues, which seem to need the presence of daylight, and to be
made expressly for the purpose of reflecting the brightest beams
of the sun, yet the lovely bird is one of the night wanderers, be-
ing seldom seen as long as the sun is above the horizon, and pre-

572 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

ferring to seek its food while the world is shrouded in darkness.
Perhaps the reader may remember that the sea-mouse, whose iri-
descent garment possesses all the tints of the rainbow, is also a
darkness lover, and passes its life sunk in the black mud of the
sea-shore.

The nest which is built by the Fiery Topaz is really a wonder-
ful structure.

Its shape is remarkable, and is well shown in the illustration.
It is fastened to the branch with extreme care, as is clearly nec-
essary from its general form. The most curious point about the
nest is, however, the material of which it is made. When it was
first discovered no one knew how the bird could have built so
strange a structure. It looked as if it were made of very coarse
buff leather, and was so similar in hue to the branches that sur-
rounded it, that it seemed more like a natural excrescence than a
bird's nest. The reason for this similitude was simple enough.
It was made of a natural excrescence, and therefore resembled
one.

When the Fiery Topaz wishes to build a nest, it goes off to the
trees, and searches for a kind of fungus belonging to the genus
Boletus, and with this singular material it makes its home. It is
tough, leathery, thick, and soft, and in some curious manner the
bird contrives to mould the apparently intractable substance into
the shape which is represented in the illustration. The non-bo-
tanical reader may form an idea of the appearance of the nest by
supposing it to be made of German tinder, which is, in fact, a kind
of boletus which has been pressed, dried, and steeped in a weak
solution of nitre.

The lower figure in the same illustration represents the nest of
another Humming-bird (Phdethornis eurynome), belonging to the
pretty little group which are popularly called Hermits, and which
may be recognized by the peculiar shape of the tail, which is reg-
ularly graduated, the two central feathers being, however, much
longer than the others. They are inhabitants of Venezuela.

All the Hermits are remarkable for the beauty of their homes,
and the present species is mentioned as affording a good example
of nest-making. The nest is always long and funnel-shaped, and
is hung either to a leaf or the delicate twig of a tree, according to
circumstances. The materials of which the nest is made are rath-
er various, consisting of vegetable fibres, especially those downy,
cotton-like filaments which are furnished by so many plants, of

HUMMING-BIRDS. 573

small herbs, and spider-webs. The last-mentioned substance is
employed for the purpose of binding the materials together, and
is used also in fastening the nest to the support on which it hangs.

There is another species of this beautiful group, called the
Euby-throated Humming-bird {Trochilus colubris), which is gen-
erally accepted as the typical species. This lovely bird is plenti-
ful in many parts of America, and is sometimes seen as far north
as Canada. It derives its popular name from the feathers of the
throat, which glitter as if made of burnished metal, and glow with
alternate tints of ruby and orange. The general color of the body
is green, and the wings are purple-brown. The two sexes are
colored after the same manner, with the exception of the ruby
gorget, which only belongs to the male, and which is not attained
until the second year. There is no species more common in mu-
seums and ornamental cases than this, because it is as plentiful as
it is lovely. That it should be plentiful, or indeed that any spe-
cies of Humming-bird should be any thing but scarce, is matter
of wonder, inasmuch as they never lay more than two eggs, and,
in all probability, do not rear more than three, or perhaps four
young in the course of a season.

The general habits of this tiny bird are well worthy of notice,
but at present we must content ourselves with it as it appears in
its nest-making capacity. Being a very small bird, only three
inches and a half in total length, and very slenderly made, the
nest is necessarily small. But, although we so often find that
little birds build large nests, we can not but notice that the nest
of this Humming-bird is even smaller than the size of its occu-
pant seems to require. It is round, neatly made, and has thick
walls and a small hollow.

The bird has a wonderful power of concealing the nest, which
can not be discovered except by a practiced nest-hunter, so close-
ly does it resemble a knob upon a branch. So careful, too, is the
female of her home that she does not fly straight to it, but rises
high in the air, and then darts down among the branches with
such rapidity that the eye can not follow her movements, and she
is fairly seated in her nest before the spectator knows exactly in
which direction she has gone.

This curious trait seems to have been discovered by Mr. C. W.
Webber. He had successfully tamed some Buby-throats, and
determined to find a nest, so that he might obtain the young.

574 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

After finding that a pair of Humming-birds had been seen near
a certain spot on a river, he set himself determinately to dis-
cover the nest. By degrees they were watched to a point of the
river, but there they always disappeared, as they had a habit of
shooting perpendicularly into the air until their tiny bodies were
lost to sight. At last, however, the patient watchfulness of the
observer was rewarded by catching a glimpse of the female bird,
as she descended perpendicularly from the height to which she
had risen, and in this manner was the nest discovered.

The same agreeable writer relates an anecdote respecting the
discovery of a nest belonging to the Emerald-throated Humming-
bird, an edifice which is very similar to that which is made by
the Euby-throat. He had been in vain looking for a nest, when
" chance favored me somewhat strangely about this time. I had
been out squirrel-shooting early one sweltering hot morning, and
on my return had thrown myself beneath the shade of a thick
hickory, near the bank of a creek. I lay on my back, looking
listlessly out over the stream, when the chirp of the Humming-
bird and its darting form reached my senses at the same instant.
I was sure I saw it light upon the limb of a small ironwood-tree
that happened to be exactly in the line of my vision at that in-
stant.

" In about five minutes another chirp, and another bird darted
in. I saw this one drop upon what seemed to be a knob or an
angle of the limb. I heard the soft chirping of greeting and love.
I could scarcely contain myself for joy. I would have given any
thing in the world to have dared to scream, ' I've got you, I've
got you at last!' By a great struggle I choked down my ecstasy
and kept still. One of them now flew away, and after waiting
fifteen minutes, that seemed a week, I rose, and with my eyes
steadily fixed on that important limb, I walked slowly down the
bank, without, of course, seeing where I placed my feet.

" But the highest hopes are sometimes doomed to a fall, and a
fall mine took with a vengeance ! I caught my foot in a root,
and tumbled head foremost down the bank into the river ! I sup-
pose that such a ducking would have cooled the enthusiasm of
most bird-nesters, but it only exasperated mine. I shook off the
water, and vowed that I would find that nest if it took me a week.
But how to begin was the question, for I had lost the limb, and
how was I to find it among a hundred others just like it?

" The knot that I had seen was so exactly like other knots

HUMMING-BIRDS. 575

upon other limbs all round it, that the prospect of rinding it
seemed a hopeless one; but 'I'll try, sir,' is my favorite motto.
I laid myself down as nearly as possible in the position which I
had originally occupied, but, after some twenty minutes' experi-
ment, came to the conclusion that my head had been too much
confused by the shock of my fall and ducking for me to hope to
make much out of this method. Then I went under the tree, and
commencing at the trunk with the lowest limb which leaned over
the water, I followed it slowly and carefully with my eye out to
the extremest twig, noting carefully every thing that seemed like
a knot. This produced no satisfactory result after half an hour's
trial, and with an aching neck I gave it up in despair, for I saw
half a dozen knots, either one of which seemed as likely to be the
right one as the other.

" I now changed my tactics again, and, ascending the tree, I
stopped with my feet upon each one of those limbs and looked
down along it. It was a very tedious proceeding, but I perse-
vered. Knot after knot deceived me ; but at last, when just above
the middle of the tree, I caught a sharp gleam of gold and purple
among the leaves, and, looking down upon the last limb to which
I had climbed, almost lost my footing for joy as I saw, about three
feet out from where I stood, the glistening back and wings of the
little bird just covering the top of one of these mysterious knots,
that was about half the size of a hen's egg.

" The glancing head, long bill, and keen eyes were turned up-
ward, and perfectly still, except the latter, which surveyed me
from head to foot with the most dauntless expression. It seemed
not to have the slightest intention of moving, and I would not
have disturbed it for the world. It was sufficient for me to gaze
on my long-lost treasure, its pure white breast — or throat rather,
for the breast was sunk in the nest — forming such a sweet and in-
nocent contrast with the splendor of its back, head, and wings."
The capture of the little birds which were afterward hatched in
that nest served to set at rest the question of the Humming-bird's
food. They lived mostly on sirup, but were obliged to fly off
and eat the tiny garden spiders as they lay in the middle of their
radiating webs.

The nest of the Euby-throated Humming-bird seems to be
rather variable in form, and material, and situation, but has al-
ways a peculiar character which enables the experienced observer
to recognize it. According to Wilson, it is sometimes fixed on

576 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

the upper part of a horizontal branch, as was the case with the
nest so graphically described by Mr. Webber. Sometimes it is
seen actually upon the trunk of a tree, attached to the bark by its
side ; and in a few rare instances it has been found in a garden,
attached to some strong-stalked herb. Generally, however, the
bird selects a white oak sapling if it builds in the woods, and a
pear-tree if it prefers the garden.

The tiny nest is scarcely more than one inch in width and the
same in depth, so that its size is very small when compared with
that of its occupants, which, when full grown, are more than three
inches in total length. The materials of which the nest is made
are principally the delicate cotton-like fibres which form the
" wings" of certain seeds, such as those of the thistle, and which
are so carefully woven together that they form a tolerably stout
wall. Upon this wall are stuck quantities of a light gray lichen
which is found on old fences and trees, so that the external ap-
pearance of the nest is rendered very similar to that of the branch
on which it is placed. The lining is composed of the fine hairs
which clothe the stalks of mullein, and ferns, and other pubescent
plants, and forms a thick, soft bed, on which repose the two mi-
nute pearly eggs.

The nest is not merely placed upon the branch, because in that
case it would present a decided outline, and be comparatively easy
of recognition. On the contrary, the base of the nest is partly
continued round the branch, so that the whole fabric rises gradu-
ally from the bough, as if it were a natural excrescence.

When the young are hatched they are fed by thrusting their
beaks into the opened mouths of their parents, and extracting
the supply of liquid sweets which have been collected from the
flowers.

There is another species of this group that builds a very pret-
ty branch-nest. This is the Vervain Humming-bird (Mellisuga
minima), one of the minutest of the feathered race. From the
point of its beak to the end of its tail it only measures two inches
and three quarters, so that when stripped of its feathers it seems
more like an insect than a bird.

Its popular name is derived from its fondness for the West In-
dian vervain (Stachyarpheta), a very common weed in neglected
pastures, with a slender stem, a blue flower, and averaging a foot
in height. Wherever the vervain is plentiful the Humming-bird

RED-BACKED SHRIKE. 577

is sure to be found, darting here and there, now poising itself be-
fore a flower, and probing its recesses with the long, slender
tongue, and now shooting for hundreds of feet into the air, and
then descending diagonally, as if shot from a gun, toward the
flower from which it started, and balancing itself before its blue
petals as if it had not moved.

The nest of this bird is proportionately small, and is beautifully
made of vegetable fibres, such as the silk-cotton of the bombax,
and, when the eggs are laid, is only just large enough to contain
them and to retain the body of the mother, bird. When, how-
ever, the young are hatched, the parents add to the walls of the
nest, which, by degrees, alters its shape completely. At first it
very much resembles an immature acorn-cup, but when the young
are ready for flight it is deep like an ordinary coffee-cup. This
pretty little bird is common in Jamaica.

In the hedgerows of our own country may often be found a
nest which is riot only pretty in itself, but remarkable for its ac-
cessories. This is the home of the Eed-backed Shrike {Enneoc-
tonus collurio).

The predatory habits of the Shrikes are well known, and one
species, the Great Gray Shrike {Lanius excabitor), was formerly
used as a falcon for the purpose of catching winged game. True,
the bird was not considered as a veritable hawk, and in the old
days of sumptuary laws, when each degree of rank had its own
particular species of hawk, this was a fact of some significance,
showing that those who thus employed the Shrike were not of
gentle blood.

The popular notion of the time supplied another reason why
the Shrike was looked upon with disdain as a bird-catcher. It
was supposed to use guile in securing its prey, instead of openly
conquering in fair chase. "Sometimes," writes an old sporting
author, " upon certain birds she doth use to prey, whome she doth
entrappe and deceive by flight, for this is her desire. She will
stand at pearch upon some tree or poste, and there make an ex-
ceeding lamentable crye and exclamation, such as birds are wonte
to do, being wronged or in hazard of mischiefe, and all to make
other fowles believe and thinke that she is very much distressed
and stands in need of ayde ; whereupon the credulous sellie birds
do fiocke together presently at her call and voice, at what time if
any happen to approach neare her she out of hand ceazeth on

Oo

578 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

them, and devouretb them (ungrateful subtill fowle !) in requital
for their simplicity and pains.

" Heere I end of this hawke, because I neither accompte her
worthy the name of a hawke, in whom there resteth no valor or
hardiness, nor yet deserving to have any more written upon her
propertie and nature. For truly it is not the property of any oth-
er hawke, by such devise and cowardly will to come by their
prey, but they love to winne it by main force of wings at random,
as the round winged hawkes doe, or by free stooping, as the
hawkes of the Tower doe most commonly use, as the falcon, ger-
falcon, sacre, merlyn, and such like."

The Shrikes have a peculiarity which is not shared by any oth-
er predaceous bird. When they have slain their prey, no matter
whether it be bird, beast, reptile, or insect, they take it to some
thorn-tree and there impale it, pressing a long and sharp thorn
into the body, so as to hold it firmly. The Great Gray Shrike
will thus impale the smaller birds, frogs, field-mice, and other
creatures which are nearly as large as itself, and in some instances
it has been known to kill and impale the thrush. It does not al-
ways employ thorns for this purpose, but will use sharply -pointed
splinters of wood, or even an iron spike if no better instrument
can be found.

Why it should have recourse to such a singular mode of hold-
ing its prey is quite a mystery. Some have said that the digest-
ive organs of the Shrike arc incapable of dissolving fresh meat,
and that the bird is obliged to render its prey semi-putricl by ex-
posure before it can venture to make a meal. But, as the Shrike
frequently eats a little bird or insect as soon as caught, this the-
ory falls to the ground.

Whatever theory may be right or wrong, the fact remains that
the Shrikes impale the creatures which they have killed, and pre-
fer to hang them near their nests. The Eed-backed Shrike is not
so formidable a foe to birds as its larger relative, but makes in-
sects its chief prey. The nest of this Shrike always affords a cu-
rious sight, and as the bird is plentiful it may easily be seen.

There is not the least difficulty in finding a Shrike's nest, for
the owner really seems to use every means which can attract at-
tention. In the first place, it is a- bird of insatiable curiosity. It
will follow, or rather precede, a human being for half an hour at
a time, keeping always some thirty or forty yards in front, set-
tling near the top of a hedge, and wagging its long tail up and

RED-BACKED SHRIKE. 579

down as if to make itself more conspicuous. Last year I amused
myself by making a Shrike move up and down a long hedge for
a very long time, while I was insect-hunting among the flowers.
Whenever the Shrike begins to act in this manner, it may gener-
ally be presumed that a nest is at no great distance.

Then, if perchance the careful observer should note these signs
and approach the spot where the nest is placed, the bird sets up a
hideous squall, just as if it intended to inform the searcher that he
was right at last. The alarm cry of the blackbird is quite enough
to draw attention as the bird flies through the underwood; but,
at all events, it is only a short cry, and the bird is soon out of
sight ; but the Shrike remains on or near the nest while it con-
tinues to utter its harsh screams, and flies away noisily when the
intruder is close at hand.

The nest itself is large, and not concealed with any care, while
around it are stuck humble-bees, cocktail beetles, ground beetles,
and a variety of other insects, each impaled upon a thorn, and
forming admirable indications to the nest-hunter. Sometimes,
but seldom, young birds are impaled instead of insects, and in
such cases they are always callow nestlings, and are fixed by a
thorn run between the skin and the flesh, instead of being pierced
through the body, as is the method employed with insects.

There is a popular idea that the bird always has nine impaled
creatures at hand, and that when it eats one it catches another,
and with it replaces the one which has been eaten. In conse-
quence of this notion, which prevails through several counties,
the bird is called Nine-killer. The generic name, Enneoctonus,
is composed of two Greek words which have a similar significa-
tion. So strongly is this idea held by some persons, that I have
seen a treatise upon instinct, where the Shrike was gravely pro-
duced as an example of arithmetical powers possessed by birds.
These theories generally fail when confronted by facts. I have
seen numberless Shrikes' nests; and though in some cases there
may have been nine impaled animals, in some there were more
and in others less.

The nest itself is neatly, though loosely built of roots, moss,
wool, and vegetable fibres, and is lined with hair. I have mostly
noticed it about five feet from the ground ; and, although it is
said to be closely hidden, have always found it a peculiarly con-
spicuous nest.

580 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

The last branch-building bird which will be mentioned in these
pages is the well-known Hedge Sparrow, or Hedge Accentor,
as it ought rightly to be called (Accentor modidarius). The bird
derives its popular name from two peculiarities, one of person and
the other of habits. As its general tints are brown and black,
the name of Sparrow has been given to it, although it rightly be-
longs to the warblers. It may easily be distinguished from the
sparrow by its slender form, its blue-gray color, and the absence
of the black patches that mark the head and throat of the true
sparrow.

It is very plentiful in England, and that it should be so is rath-
er remarkable on account of the exposed situation and conspicu-
ous form of its nest. The red-backed shrike is remiss enough in
placing its nest ; but the Hedge Sparrow seems to be utterly heed-
less on the subject, and appears absolutely to invite the attention
of its foes, which are many.

First and foremost comes the bird-nesting boy, whose eyes are
generally so sharp that to conceal a nest from him is no easy
matter. Then the Hedge Sparrow is one of the earliest builders,
and so hasty is it in its proceedings that I have seen the half-fin-
ished nest filled with the snows of early spring. The bird had
been in such a hurry to set up housekeeping that she would not
even wait until the leaves were sufficiently large to shelter the
nest, and, as might be expected, the snow found an easy entrance
into the unprotected edifice. In consequence, moreover, of this
passion for early building, the nest is so conspicuous an object in
the leafless hedge that the most casual glance can not fail to de-
tect it, while the natural foes of the bird, namely, the boy, the
stoat, the cat, cuckoo, and others, find it the easiest of their prey.

The boy, for example, who might not be able to reach the nest
of the shrike, which is placed some five or six feet from the
ground, has no difficulty whatever in harrying that of the Hedge
Sparrow, which is seldom more than two feet from the ground.
Moreover, although the older nest-hunters will not trouble them-
selves about eggs so common as those of the Hedge Sparrow, the
novices, and even many who ought to know better, can never re-
sist the round, shining blue shells, as they lie snugly packed away
in their basket-like receptacle.

Then there is the cuckoo, that flies about the hedgerows, peer-
ing into every nest, and looking out for a foster home for her
esrgs, which she can not hatch, and for the young which she can

THE HEDGE SPARROW. 581

not cherish. There is, perhaps, no nest which is easier to be seen
or more accessible when discovered than that of the Hedge Spar-
row, and the consequence is, that the cuckoo's egg is oftener to be
found in the nest of the Hedge Sparrow than in that of any other
bird. This circumstance is certainly unfortunate to the Hedge
Sparrow, who is obliged to give up the whole of her nest to a sup-
posititious offspring, and to bestow upon a single intruder all the
care and attention which would otherwise have been lavished
upon the five rightful occupants.

Besides the cats, rats, and weasels, there are direful feathered
foes, such as the shrike, which steals away the young and carries
them to its home, where it hangs them up in its natural larder,
and the magpie, which will sometimes work great havoc among
the young or eggs. Now and then the owl makes a meal of a
young bird, as I can testify from personal experience, and the
viper is always ready to glide up the stems of the shrubs amid
which the bird has built, to insert its baleful head into the nest,
and to swallow the callow young.

Still, as the Hedge Sparrow generally produces two broods of
young in a year, and sometimes three, all her offspring are not
destroyed by these foes, and she may have the satisfaction of
rearing some of her own. The nest is nicely, substantially, but
not elegantly made, as, indeed, might be inferred from its lowly
position. Nests upon or near the ground are very seldom made
with much attention to elegance of architecture, the greatest
trimness of nest-building skill being displayed in those homes
which are placed upon lofty branches or suspended from slender
twigs. It is a rather large nest, and is made of moss, wool, hair,
and similar materials. As is generally the case with the group
of birds to which the Hedge Sparrow belongs, the eggs are five
in number, and, on an average, three young in each brood attain
maturity.

582

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

Pensile Spider's Nest.

CHAPTER XXX.

BRANCH-BUILDERS.

SPIDERS AND INSECTS.

Remarkable Spider Nests in the British Museum. — Seed-nests and Leaf-nests. —
Nests of the Tufted Spider. — Form and Coloring of the Spider. — Its curious
Limbs. — Nests illustrative of the Hexagonal Principle. — Nest of the Icaria. —
The Equal Pressure and Excavation Theories. — Nest of Mischocyttarus and its
remarkable Form. — Nest of the Raphigaster. — Summary of the Argument. —
The Processionary Moth. — Reasons for its Name. — How the Larva? march. —
Damage done by them to Trees. — A natural Remedy. — The Calosoma and its
Habits. — The Gipsy Moth. — Its Ravages upon Trees and Mode of destroying it.
— The Social Principle among Caterpillars. — Mr. Rennie's Experiments. — The
Lackey Moth. — Supposed derivations of its popular Name. — The Eggs, Larvas,
and perfect Insects. — Habits of the Moth. — The Brown-tailed Moth.-— Locality
where it is found. — Its Ravages abroad. — Nests of the Icaria as they appear in
Branches. — The Apoica : its remarkable Nests. — Moth Nests from Monte Video.

We have already seen several nests built by Spiders, some of
which are made in the earth, others are strictly pensile, and
others may fairly come into the present group. The specimens
from which the drawings were made are in the collection of the
British Museum, some in the upper and others in the lower

SPIDERS. 583

rooms. Of the architects, the manner in which the nests were
made, and the reasons why they were so singularly constructed,
I can say nothing, because no record is attached to the specimens.
Still, they are so curious that they have found a place in the
work, and it is to be hoped that the very fact of their publicity
will induce travelers to search for more specimens and to describe
their history.

Differing as they do in shape, color, and material, they have
one object in common, namely, the rearing of the young. They
are clearly nests in the true sense of the word, being devoted not
to the parents, but to the offspring. At the upper part of the il-
lustration may be seen a number of long, spindle-shaped bodies,
suspended from a branch. These are drawn about half the full
size, in order to allow other specimens to be introduced into the
same illustration for the purpose of comparison. In color they
are nearly white, with a slight yellowish tinge, and are very soft
and delicate of texture, so that when viewed in a good light they
form a very striking group of objects.

In the opposite upper corner of the illustration may be seen a
remarkable nest, which few would recognize as the work of a
spider. Such, however, is the case, the creature being urged by
instinct to take several concave seed-pods, and to fix them to-
gether as seen in the drawing. The seed-pods are fastened firm-
ly together with the silken thread of which webs are made, and
in the interior the eggs are placed. The drawing is reduced
about one third in proportion to the actual object. Several of
these singular nests are in the collection at the British Museum.

Occupying the lower part of the illustration is seen a leaf upon
which are piled a number of fragments of leaves, so as to form a
rudely conical heap. This is also the work of a spider, and is
made with even more ingenuity than the two preceding speci-
mens. In the first instance the spider has spun a hollow case of
silk, similar in principle of construction, though not in form, to
the spherical egg cases made by several British spiders. In the
second instance the creature has chosen a number of concave
seed -pods, and, by adjusting their edges together and fastening
them with silk, made a hollow nest, which only requires to be
lined in order to make it a fit nursery for the young. But, in the
present example, the work of nest-making has been much more
elaborate, for the structure has been regularly built up of a great
number of pieces, each being arranged methodically upon the

584

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

other, very much as children in the streets build their oyster-shell
grottoes. The labor must have been considerable, even if the
spider had nothing to do but to arrange and fasten together
pieces of leaves which had already been selected.

..;.:,@ %mm

Tufted Spider.

Spherical Spider Neats.

The large, oval, cocoon-like nests which are seen in the ac-
companying illustration are made by the Tufted Spider of the
West Indies, a creature which derives its name from the remark-
able tufts of stiff, bristle-like hairs which decorate the limbs. A
very fine specimen of this remarkable Spider is now before me,
having been taken out of its bottle with extreme difficulty, owing
to the great length of the limbs, and the weight of the prolonged
abdomen.

The length of the body is one inch and a half, of which meas-
urement the abdomen alone occupies two thirds. The average
circumference of the abdomen is five sixths of an inch ; and, as it

SPIDERS. 585

varies very little throughout its entire length, that portion of the
body is very solid and heavy. The color is deep chocolate-brown,
curiously marked with circular dots of bright yellow, and farther
diversified with stripes of the same color, especially over the fore
part of the abdomen. Two bold yellow bars are also drawn
transversely across the under surface of the abdomen. The tho-
rax is deep brown, and clothed with short hairs of grayish-yellow,
set so densely that the dark color of the thorax can not be seen
without close inspection. There are, however, three black squared
spots on each side, and a black spot occupies the centre. The
animal is armed with a formidable pair of poison-jaws, of a deep
shining black, at the ends of which the curved fangs are bent in-
ward like the venomous teeth of the rattlesnake. On the front
of the thorax, and looking directly forward, are the eight eyes,
the four smallest being arranged closely together in the centre, in
the form of a square, and the four largest being set on bold promi-
nences so as to form a large oblong, in the centre of which is the
square.

The limbs are of considerable length. The first pair of legs,
which are the longest, measure two inches and a half in length,
and the expanded second pair measure four inches and a half.
The most remarkable point about the spider is the peculiarity
from which it derives its name. The first, second, and fourth
pairs of legs are adorned with dense hairy tufts, the first pair hav-
ing two tufts each, and the others only one. The third pair of
legs are much shorter and smaller than the others, and are desti-
tute of tufts. As the legs themselves are bright yellow-brown
and the tufts are deep black, the contrast of color is very bold and
agreeable to the eye. The entomological reader may perhaps
remember that social exotic beetles are also decorated with tufts
upon their antennas and limbs. Of the curious spherical spider-
nests, with their black cross-bars, nothing is known except the
mere fact of their existence. They are about as large as full-sized
black currants.

In the following illustration three most remarkable nests are
given, all of them the work of hymenopterous insects, and all
serving in some degree to illustrate the hexagonal system of cell-
building, so common among the Hymenoptera.

Of these, perhaps, the central figure is the most interesting,
because it entirely sets at rest a question which is periodically

586

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

Mischocyttarua.

Raphigaster.

agitated. It is made by an insect belonging to the genus Icaria.
Perhaps my readers may remember that on page 450 the cele-
brated bee-cell problem is described, and that mention is made of
the many theories which have been invented to solve the riddle.
Among them the two most conspicuous are those which are known
as the equal pressure theory and the excavation theory. Differing
as they do in many respects — one attempting to prove that each
cell is forced into the hexagonal shape by the pressure of six cells
surrounding it, and the other that the cell is made hexagonal by
the cutting away of material from six surrounding cells — they
both agree in one point, namely, that the normal shape of the cell
is cylindrical, and that it only assumes the hexagonal form by
mechanical means.

These questions were briefly mentioned, because an entire omis-
sion of them would appear negligent, but they were not followed

THE HEXAGONAL PRINCIPLE. 587

up because the nests that would set them -at rest belonged to an-
other group. We will first take the central nest.

The specimen from which this was drawn was fortunately in
an unfinished state, only eight cells being made, and some of these
but partly finished. As the reader may see by reference to the
illustration, all the cells are hexagonal, whether finished or in-
complete, and, moreover, that the edges of the hexagon are quite
sharp and well defined.

Now, if either of the two theories were true, the cells would not
have assumed this shape. Where are the six surrounding cells
that are needed to compress the outermost cell into an hexagonal?
Or where are the six surrounding cells from which the hexagon
was excavated ? There are none. The outermost cell, for exam-
ple, is perfectly free on five of its sides, being only attached to the
neighboring cell by the sixth side. Compression, therefore, has
not been employed, because there is nothing that can compress it ;
neither has excavation been used, because there is no material to
be excavated. No one, on looking at this group of cells, can deny
that the hexagonal form is produced by the direct labors of the
insect, and not by any secondary mechanical means.

Perhaps some one who has not examined the actual object
might say that the materials of which the cells are made are suf-
ficiently stiff to need no support of contiguous cells. Now the
substance of this remarkable nest is singularly slight, the walls
being not thicker than the paper on which this account is printed,
and the material is quite soft, as may be seen by the curvature
produced by the mere weight of the structure. Yet none of the
cells are united by more than three sides, the greater number by
two only, and the external cells merely by a single side, leaving
five sides and four angles perfectly free.

In this particular specimen the material has evidently been va-
ried, the insect having been forced to employ different substances
in forming its home, as is seen by the pale and dark rings altern-
ately surrounding the cells. The insect which makes this curious
home is of moderate size, and is grayish -black, banded with yel-
lowish-white. The abdomen is tolerably stout and sharp-pointed,
and is attached to the thorax by a short brownish foot-stalk. This
insect is a native of Natal. Other species of the same group will
be mentioned in the course of the following pages.

In the left-hand upper corner may be seen a very remarkable

588 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

triple nest depending from a branch. This is the work of an
insect called Mischocyttarus labiatus, which belongs to the family
Polistidaj. Like the nest of the preceding insect, it is attached
to the bough by a slender and tolerably long foot-stalk, and the
mouths of the cells are downward, as is always the case with
these insects.

Generally the group of cells is single, but occasionally a more
perfect nest is found, which, like the specimen figured in the illus-
tration, has three distinct cell groups, each pendent from the centre
of the group above. This may seem rather a dangerous method
of suspending the nest, but it is not more so than that which is
employed by the common wasp, which builds tier under tier of
cells, hanging each tier from its immediate predecessor by little
pillars of the same paper-like material as that of which the cells
are constructed ; or very much, indeed, as the roadway of a sus-
pension bridge is hung from its arch instead of being placed upon
it. The insect itself is smaller than the preceding, and is almost
uniformly brown.

The last of these three groups is particularly entitled to notice,
on account of its bearing upon the hexagonal principle, which
has been so often mentioned. The name of the insect is Kaphi-
GASTER Guiniensis, and, as its name implies, it is a native of
Western Africa.

The nest consists of a group of long cells, and is suspended
from a foot-stalk. The material of which the nest is composed is
peculiarly soft and flimsy, reminding the observer of the worst
and most porous French paper. The cells are so thin that the
light shines through their delicate walls, and they are so soft
that they yield to the least pressure. Each cell is small at the
base, and increases regularly toward the mouth like a reversed
sugar-loaf.

Now, if the real cause of the hexagonal form were to be found
in the equal pressure of surrounding cells, the central cells of this
group ought to be hexagons, for they are soft, pliable, and their
conical form renders them peculiarly liable to be squeezed out of
shape. Yet, on examining the nest, we find that all the cells re-
tain their conical form, the central cells being as rounded as those
on the exterior, and their mouths being as circular.

These examples entirely destroy both theories.

In the first instance we have nests of which the cells are per-

THE PROCESSIONARY MOTH. 589

fectly hexagonal throughout, although some of them are only at-
tached by one side, and are not pressed upon at either of the five
remaining sides. We find that the external angles are as sharp,
and their internal measurement as true, as those which occupy
the very centre of the bee-comb ; so that pressure is clearly not
the cause of the hexagon. That excavation is not the cause is
also evident, from the fact that the external cells can not have
been excavated, and yet are hexagonal.

These examples, therefore, show that the hexagonal form can
exist without pressure. But, as if to show that pressure can exist
without producing the hexagonal form, we have the nest of the
Mischocyttarus, whose long, delicate, soft-walled cells are grouped
round each other, and yet retain their conical form, so that at any
part of them a transverse section would show a circular edge.

The insect which makes this nest is rather long, measuring per-
haps an inch in length. The color is pale yellow and the abdo-
men is much elongated, and attached to a slender foot-stalk or
peduncle nearly as long as itself. Several of the cells have been
occupied by larvre which have begun to assume the pupal condi-
tion, as is shown by the white covers over their mouths.

One of the most remarkable of these branch-building insects
is that which has been appropriately named the Processionary
Moth (Cneethocamjoa processioned). This curious moth lays a
number of eggs, mostly upon the oak, and as soon as they are
hatched the little creatures begin to form their home.

Externally it is not unlike that of the brown-tailed moth, but it
differs in one respect, namely, that it is not divided into separate
chambers, and has only one aperture. When the larvas sally out
for the purpose of procuring food, they spin guide-lines, as is the
case with many other caterpillars. But, instead of going out
singly into the world, each to find its own food in its own way,
they march out in regular order, like a military party on a fora-
ging expedition.

A single caterpillar is always the leader, and often is followed
by one or two others in Indian file. Presently, however, the cat-
erpillars march two deep, and, if a large number should be on the
move, the line is sometimes from five to six deep. They are all
very close to each other, so that the procession flows on in one
unbroken line, and, until the observer is close to it, he can not see
that its component parts are moving at all.

590

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

On referring to the illustration, the reader will see that the
artist has represented a nest of the Processionary Moth, part of
which has been torn open so as to show the absence of partitions
in the interior. A number of the caterpillars are also shown, but
in the middle of the nest is one grub of very great size, being, in
fact, six or seven times as large as the caterpillars. This creature
has been introduced because it is generally to be found in the
nest of the Processionary Moth, and because it is one of the most
useful insects that a careful agriculturist can protect.

Processionary Moth and Caloaoma.

It is the larva? of a beautiful beetle, called scientifically Colo-
soma sycophanta, which is represented below in the act of ascend-
ing the tree. The beetle is a lovely blue-green, but the larva is
as unsightly a being as can well be conceived, its body being fat,
flattish, and scaly, and its color black. This creature feeds en-
tirely upon the various caterpillars and other larva?, even eating
those of the destructive sawflies. At the end of the tail are two
horny spines, and the head is furnished with a pair of curved,
sharp, and powerful jaws, by means of which it seizes its prey.

Instinct teaches these grubs to find their prey, and it may easily

THE PROCESSIONARY AND GIPSY MOTHS. 591

be imagined that when they approach a nest of the Processionary
Moth they are not slow to avail themselves of the opportunity.
Indeed, so sure are they of discovering their prey, that Reaumur
asserts that he never opened a nest of the Processionary Moth
without finding one or more specimens of their rapacious enemy,
as many as five or six having been seen in a single nest. They
are most voracious creatures, as indeed is evident from their struc-
ture ; and, as each grub will eat several large caterpillars in a day,
the havoc which is made in the nest may easily be imagined. The
caterpillars have no means of defense or escape. They can not
leave their home, and they can not kill or expel the intruder. All
that they can do is to go out and eat, and come back and be eaten,
their numbers ever diminishing, like the companions of Ulysses
in the Cyclops' cave.

But for the exertions of this most useful insect, the ravages of
the Processionary Caterpillars would be greatly increased, for the
creature does not only eat them while in the larval condition, but
feeds upon them after they have become pupas. Sometimes, how-
ever, this extreme voracity defeats its own purpose. It occasion-
ally happens that a grub of the Calosoma habitually gorges itself
to such an extent with Processionary Caterpillars that it becomes
fat, unwieldy, and scarce able to move. If, when it is in this con-
dition, leaner and hungrier grubs should come across it, they are
too apt to seize upon it and devour it in sheer wantonness, even
though the nest be full of their legitimate prey.

Knowing the habits of this grub, a French entomologist, M.
Boisgerard, managed very ingeniously to avail himself of its de-
vouring capacities. There is a well-known insect, Bombyx dis-
par, popularly called the Gipsy Moth, which is very common in
France, though scarce in most parts of England. The larva of
this moth is destructive to trees, feeding on their leaves, and then
retreating to a cunning little hiding-place in some crevice of the
bark. Finding that his trees were infested with these caterpil-
lars, M. Boisgerard procured a number of female Calosomas, and
placed them on the trees. They laid their eggs, and in due sea-
son the larvae were hatched. In process of time the destructive
grubs increased so much that they ate all the noxious caterpillars,
and at the end of the third year the trees were cleared, and the
Calosoma beetles had to go elsewhere for a living.

In England the Calosoma is exceedingly rare, all specimens
hitherto captured having been apparently blown over the sea

592 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

from the Continent or brought in ships. Toward the south of
France it is plentiful enough, as is needed from the enormous
multitudes of crop - destroying caterpillars on which it feeds.
There is, however, a closely allied species, Calosoma inquisitor,
which is not so scarce, and, although comparatively seldom seen,
may be captured by those who know where to look for it. I
have taken it in Bayley Wood, near Oxford.

The reader may remember that two species of wasp, namely,
Yespa vulgaris and Yespa germanica, will work harmoniously at
the same nest. This curious sociability, which is contrary to the
usual custom of nature, is shared by moths as well as wasps.
When experimenting upon the nests of this species, M. Reaumur
found that several distinct broods of caterpillars would spin a
common web and live in peace together, just as if they had been
the offspring of one mother. Mr. Rennie, however, carried the
experiments still farther, and found that two different species
would act in the same social manner.

"We ourselves ascertained during the present summer (1829)
that this principle of sociality is not confined to the same species,
nor even to the same genus. The experiment which we tried
was to confine two broods of different species to the same branch,
by placing it in a glass of water to prevent their escape. The
caterpillars which we experimented upon were several broods of
the brown-tailed moth (Porthesia auriflua) and the lackey {Clisio-
campa neustria). These we found to work with as much industry
and harmony in constructing their common tent as if they had
been at liberty in their native trees; and when the lackeys en-
countered the brown-tails they manifested no alarm or uneasiness,
but passed over the backs of one another as if they had made only
a portion of the branch.

"In none of their operations did they seem to be subject to
any discipline, each individual appearing to work in perfecting
the structure from individual instinct, in the same manner as was
remarked by M. Huber in the case of the hive-bees. In making
such experiments, it is obvious that the species of caterpillars ex-
perimented with must feed upon the same sort of plant."

One remark ought to be made on this interesting narrative.
The author lays some stress on the fact that the two insects be-
longed not only to different species, but to different genera. It
must, however, be remembered that, although the distinction of

THE LACKEY MOTH. 593

insects into species is easy enough, their grouping into genera is
quite arbitrary, depending entirely on the classifier. Linnasus,
for example, divided all the butterflies into two genera, while the
modern classification admits some thirty genera. While, there-
fore, we may lay every stress on the species, we need not trouble
ourselves much about the genus.

The two moths mentioned in this history are very different in
appearance, and the larvaa are still more unlike. They have,
however, this point of similarity, that they construct large dwell-
ings upon branches, spinning them of silk, and making them large
enough to contain a whole brood at once. The Lackey Moths
are so called on account of the bright colors of the caterpillars,
which are striped and decorated like modern footmen. Some
species, however, derive the name from a different source.

When the mother insect lays her eggs, she deposits them on a
small branch or twig, disposing them in a ring that completely
encircles the twig, as a bracelet surrounds a lady's wrist. When
she has completed the circle, she covers the eggs with a kind of
varnish, which soon hardens, and forms a perfect defense from
the rain. The varnish is so hard, and binds the eggs so firmly
together, that, if the twig be carefully severed, the whole mass of
eggs can be slipped off entire. As this varnish produces the same
effect on eggs as lacquer does upon polished metal, preserving the
surface and defending it from moisture, the insect is called the
Lacquer, a word which has been corrupted into Lackey.

In wet weather the Lackey Caterpillars prefer to remain in
their silken home, leaving it only for the purpose of feeding.
They never lose their way, because, like the larva3 of the little
ermine moth, which has been already described, they continually
spin a single silken thread as they go along, and are therefore pro-
vided with an infallible guide to the track. Before they change
to the pupal state they leave the nest.

The larva of this species is a very prettily-marked creature,
the body being striped with blue, and yellow, and white. The
moth itself is yellow, with a slight tinge of orange, and across
the upper pair of wings runs a dark band edged on either side
by a jjaler streak. As there is another allied species, which
lives on various sea-side plants, the present insect ought more
properly to be called the Tree Lackey. The moth seems to be
rather periodical and local ; for, although specimens are found
annually in most years, they swarm to such an extent in certain

P P

59-i HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

places that whole rows of fruit-trees are denuded of their leaves,
and covered with the silken webs of the pretty but destructive
caterpillars.

The Brown-tailed Moth is another of the arboreal insects,
and spins a web very like that of the gold-tailed moth, which has
already been described. In some seasons it is more numerous
than in others, and occasionally seen in vast multitudes. This
phenomenon is often observable among insects, as is well known
to all practical entomologists, and in more than one instance the
caterpillars of the Brown-tailed Moth have been so plentiful as to
become a positive pest.

They are social larva?, and, as they are hatched late in the au-
tumn, they spin a joint web, in which they can be secure through-
out the winter months. As the brood is mostly numerous, and
as, two or more broods may unite in forming a common dwelling,
their habitation is extremely large, often enveloping several
branches, together with their twigs and leaves. Like the nest of
the gold-tailed moth, it is divided into chambers, and is externally
irregular in form, depending entirely for its shape upon the local-
ity in which it is constructed.

Even in this country it is sometimes plentiful enough to annoy
the farmer, who does not like to see his hedgerows disfigured by
the silken tents spun by these caterpillars ; but in France it has
occurred in such hosts as to entail a serious loss upon the agricul-
turist, whole rows of trees having been stripped of their leaves,
and the denuded branches covered with the sheets of web in
which lay the destroying armies.

On the accompanying illustration may be seen a number of
curious nests, composed of long hexagonal cells set side by side.
These are made by several species of a hymenopterous insect be-
longing to the genus Icaria, and may be advantageously compared
with the central figure in the illustration on page 586.

These nests, or rather these series of cells, are made after a sin-
gular fashion. First, the insect attaches to the branch a foot-stalk
composed of the same material as that with which the cells arc
formed. This foot-stalk, although slender, is very hard, solid,
and tough, and can uphold a considerable weight, as is necessary
from the manner of constructing the nest. She then makes a cell
after the ordinary wasp-fashion, attaching it to the foot-stalk with

1CARIAS.

595

its mouth downward, and at first making it comparatively short.
When the cell has nearly attained its due length, a second is
placed alongside the first, and a third is added in like manner,
each being lengthened as required. As the cells at the base of
the series are finished first, it is evident that they gradually di-
minish toward the end, those at the extremity being often not one
quarter so long as those at the base.

The material employed in making these cells is woody fibre,
like that which is used by our common British wasps, and the
color is rather dark yellowish -brown, so that, in spite of the curi-
ous method in which the nest-groups project from the branches,
they are not seen so readily as might be imagined from their ec-
centric form.

In these, as in many other forms of cells made by hymenopter-
ous insects, is to be found an enigma which as yet is unsolved,
and for the mention of which I am indebted to Mr. F. Smith, of
the British Museum : all the cells are of equal size.

Now this point, which would not particularly strike an ordi-
nary observer, is of the greatest importance to those who have
studied the economy of insects, and have bestowed much thought
upon them. If we examine the nest of a hive-bee, and take any
single comb, we shall find that the cells are extremely variable in
size — the largest being those which are occupied by the future

596 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.'

queens, the smallest those which are the nurseries of the worker
bees, and the intermediate cells those in which the drones or males
are hatched.

If we examine the nest of the common wasp or hornet, we still
find the cells of various sizes, corresponding with the sexes and
uses of the occupants ; and if we look at that of any species of
humble-bee, the same fact is clearly perceptible. But in the nests
of the Icarias and similar insects no such variation is discovera-
ble, and no distinction can be found between the male and fe-
male cells. The natural question therefore arises, whether all
the members of each brood, or rather each cell group, are of the
same sex ; or whether one nest produces males and another fe-
males, just as one portion of the comb is given to males, another
to females, and another to neuters, in the case of the hive-bee?
No matter how large may be the nest of an Icaria, or how full
of cells it may be, the cells are all so alike in shape and size
that they must apparently be the cradles of insects belonging to
the same sex.

This fact is curiously brought out in a remarkable series of
cell groups which have been placed on a single leaf, some of
which are shown in the lower part of the illustration. The leaf
is rather long, and, being dry, is now curved by its own force.
This leaf seems to have possessed some fascination for the Icarias,
as upon the upper surface no less than fifteen nests have been
established, none of great length, and all nearly or quite com-
pleted. In none are the cells perfectly straight, all having a
slight curve downward on account of the delicate material of
which they are made.

The insect which builds these curious cells is a commonplace-
looking creature, of a soft grayish-brown color, with a moderately
large head and a little rounded abdomen, not very unlike the
Cynips Kbllari, which has already been described. It is a native
of India, and the nests which have been mentioned were sent
from Bareilly.

There is also a nest made by an allied insect belonging to the
genus Sphex, and coming, as far as is known, from the same lo-
cality. As in the preceding case, the habitation is placed in the
hollow of a leaf, which has either curled in the process of wither-
ing, or has been bent by the insect and retained in its cylindrical
form by silken threads. On inspecting the nest it is seen to con-

THE POLISTES ATERKIMA. 597

sist of a mass of delicate threads that are not unlike those of the
common silkworm, which cross and recross each other so as to
fill up the hollow of the leaf, and to form a receptacle for the fu-
ture young.

The insect is a large one, being a full inch in length, and of
rather a formidable appearance. In color it is black, with the
exception of a few narrow transverse streaks of bright yellow
upon the fore part of the thorax, and the abdomen is placed at
the end of a long foot-stalk.

In connection with this branch of the subject, I must call the
attention of the reader to the curious cell group of Polisles aterri-
ma, a figure of which is given on page 482.

At first sight it looks as if the winged architect had intended
to make a cell group like that of the Icaria, and had been brought
abruptly to a conclusion. A close inspection, however, shows
that the structure is intentional, and not merely the result of ac-
cident. The cells are all placed with their mouths downward,
and are set in a very peculiar manner.

In the Icaria nests the cells are arranged so as to form a more
or less elongated mass, widest in the middle and tapering to the
end, the variation in width being caused by the different ar-
rangement of the cells, which are two deep at the commence-
ment, reach three or four deep at the middle, and are reduced
at the end to a single row of cells. But in the nest of the Po-
listes all the cells are two deep, being arranged in two regular
rows.

On reference to the illustration, which is exactly one half the
length of the original specimen, the reader will see that the cells
are of different sizes, and might therefore fancy that the upper or
larger cells are those which nurture the larvas that are destined
to be perfect males and females, and that the lower or smaller
cells are intended for the workers or neuters. But a careful ex-
amination shows that such a supposition would not be correct.
It is true that the upper cells are larger than the lower, but this
increase of size is simply owing to the fact that they are com-
pleted, while the five lower cells are still unfinished.

The attention of the reader is particularly called to the dark
bars which are at regular intervals across the cells. These are
not merely intended to represent effects of light and shade, nor to
show that the little architect has used materials of different colors

598 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

so as to form alternate bands ; but each dark line represents a
distinct and well-marked ridge, and each ridge is evidently the
result of an addition made to the cell.

Here, then, we have a clew to the manner in which the insect
builds its curious home. The cells at the upper part of the nest
were originally in the same unfinished state as those at the lower
extremity. The insect made a tolerably deep cell, laid an egg
therein, and then proceeded to lay the foundation of other cells,
placing an egg in each.

When, however, she has formed the third or fourth cell, the
eggs in the first and second chambers have been hatched into
larvae, and need to be fed ; so the mother insect has now to sus-
pend her architectural labors, and to divide her time between the
erection of fresh cells and the feeding of the larvae in those which
were first made. Soon, however, her labors become more oner-
ous and more complicated. The larvae or grubs which inhabited
the first two or three cells have grown so rapidly that they are
fast becoming too large for their pendent cradles. Their cells
must therefore be enlarged to suit the increased dimensions of the
inhabitants. This also is done, each addition being marked by
the ridge which has been already mentioned.

Thus, then, the hard- worked mother insect is forced to engage
in three distinct labors, namely, the building of new cells,., the en-
largement of existing cells, and the nurture of the larvae. A
short reference to the illustration will now give the reader a clear
idea of the cell group. Above is a series of completed cells, each
occupied by a full-grown larva, one of which is being fed by the
mother insect, and below is a series of incomplete cells, each of
which has received an egg, but neither of which is fit to sustain
the weight of the larvae. If, however, the nest had been allowed
to remain in the forest, instead of being carried off to the British
Museum, the five lower cells would have been completed like
their more perfect predecessors above.

The observant reader will probably have noticed that from the
mouths of several cells a scoop-like projection is seen to issue.
These projections have been faithfully rendered by the draughts-
man, although they denote a certain imperfection in the speci-
men. They are evidently the result of hard usage, and show that
part of a completed cell has been broken away. As is often the
case, the fracture has its value, inasmuch as it shows that the nor-
mal form of the cell is hexagonal, and that the angles are quite

THE POLISTES ATERRIMA. 599

sharp and firm, without needing either pressure or excavation to
make them so.

It is much to be regretted that in England there is no repre-
sentative of this interesting group of insects by which the above-
mentioned problem might be solved. We might then know
whether males and females belong to the same brood, are nur-
tured in the same cells, and are of the same size. We might
learn whether or not the males are bred in separate establish-
ments, divided from the other sex like dioecious plants. As it is,
however, we are in ignorance respecting these points, and no one
resident in tropical countries seems to have the energy to con-
duct a series of experiments which would involve expenditure
of time and labor: Travelers and residents in tropical countries
are often admirable collectors, but, with few exceptions, are poor
observers, except of facts that pass immediately under their ob-
servation. They make valuable collections, and record many
'useful isolated facts ; but, unfortunately, they seldom appear able
to carry on a series of experiments that would occupy several
successive years, and thus we lose much valuable as well as in-
teresting knowledge, and waste much time in trying to discover
by inference that which we ought to know from observation.

The last point which will be noticed in connection with this
remarkable cell group is that it is perfectly protected from rain.
Slight and delicate as is the structure, appearing scarcely thicker
than the silver paper with which engravings are guarded, it may
be deluged with water without being wetted. Over the whole
of the cells the insect contrives to lay a thick coat of some var-
nish-like substance, which at the same time gives the exterior of
the cells a polish, binds them more firmly together, and renders
them water-proof. The varnish is nearly transparent, but has a
blackish hue, which gives to the whole cell group a uniformity
of aspect which would be wanting if the protecting substance
were itself colorless.

The insect is, at first sight, black in color, as is expressed by
its specific title. A clear examination in a more favorable light
shows that the true color is a green so deep as to appear black,
but having a perceptible bronze gloss in certain lights. The
wings are equally sombre in aspect, looking as if they had been
held above the flame of a badly-trimmed lamp, and received all
the soot upon their translucent membranes. Indeed, their pecul-
iar color can only be expressed by the word "smoky."

600

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

It is hardly possible to overrate the wonderful varieties of
form that are assumed by the nests of insects — varieties so bold
and so startling that few would believe in the possibility of their
existence without ocular demonstration. No rule seems J;o be
observed in them ; at all events, no rule has as yet been discov-
ered by which their formation is guided, neither has any conjec-
ture been formed as to the reason for the remarkable forms which
the)7 assume.

Perhaps, of all the nests in the splendid collection of the Brit-
ish Museum, there are none that cause so much surprise as the
wonderful group which is represented in this illustration. Many

11

1 ?r m ^

persons pass through the room, and even take some notice of the
various nests with which they are surrounded, but they seldom
notice the peculiarities of this group until pointed out to them.
When, however, their attention is directed toward it, they never

NESTS OF APOICA. 601

fail to express their surprise at so curious a structure, and their
admiration of the manner in which these natural homes are con-
structed.

In a recent portion of this work the hexagonal principle of con-
struction has been mentioned as applied to separate cells of cer-
tain hymenoptera, and that no explanation has been given of the
mode by which the six-sided cells are made. It is always easier
to explode previous theories than to supplant them with one that
really explains the enigma, and such is certainly the case with
these cells. But when we come to examine the group of nests
which are made by an insect called Apoica pallida, the subject
takes a wider range, and we are even more hopelessly bewildered
than before. In the nests already mentioned the cells are hexag-
onal, but in these specimens the entire nests assume a form more
or less hexagonal, as may be seen by reference to the illustration.

In order to prevent misunderstanding, I must here remark, that
the seven nests or cell groups were not all found adhering to a
single branch, as seems to be the case, but that they have been
placed near each other in such a manner as to allow of easy com-
parison, and to show their peculiar form. The large mushroom-
shaped nest in the centre, and the small cell group which occu-
pies the extremity of the bough, appear as they were formed by
the insects, but the others have only been arranged for the con-
venience of comparison.

Even their position has been necessarily altered. Nests of this
kind are always placed with the mouths of the cells downward ;
but, as their peculiar form could not easily be seen if they were
allowed to retain their natural position, some of them have been
set on their edges, so as to exhibit their outline to the spectator.
This is notably the case with that nest which occupies the left
hand of the illustration, and which is the most striking of all the
specimens.

If the reader will refer to the illustration, he will see that the
nests are by no means uniform in size or shape. The larger one,
for example, which occupies the centre, rather exceeds ten inches
in diameter, while the small nest at the end of the same branch is
scarcely half as wide, and the others are of all the intermediate
sizes. In shape, too, they differ, some being perfectly hexagonal,
others partly so, while others, again, are nearly circular, though
on a careful inspection they show faint traces of the hexagonal
form.

602 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

We will now examine these nests, and see where they agree
with and differ from each other.

In the first place, their upper surfaces are more or less convex,
according to their size ; and whether they are circular or hexag-
onal, the convexity remains the same. This form is evidently
intended for the purpose of making them weather-proof, for the
rain torrents that occasionally deluge the country would soon
wash to pieces any nest whereon the falling drops could make
a lodgment. The surface is therefore as smooth as that of the
various pasteboard wasps which build in the forests of tropical
America.

The upper surface being convex, it naturally follows that the
under surface is concave, inasmuch as the cells are of tolerably
equal length. In fact, the nests somewhat resemble very shallow
basins with very thick sides, and bear an almost startling resem-
blance to the cap of a very large and very well-shaped mushroom,
the central specimen being so fungus-like in form that, if it were
laid on the ground in a waste and moist spot, it would soon be
picked up as a veritable mushroom. The color, too, is yellowish-
brown, and the surface has a kind of semi-polish that increases
the resemblance.

In the nests of our common wasp, or hornet, the sheets of paper
which form the exterior show plainly where each successive flake
has been deposited, and the sweep of the insect's jaws is marked
distinctly upon the yielding material. Even in the case of the
few British species which build pensile nests in the open air, the
separate flakes can be distinguished, though they are not so clear-
ly marked as in those homes which are defended from the weath-
er by earth or wood. Our temperate region knows no such sud-
den vicissitudes of weather as take place near the equator, and
there is no need for insect habitations to possess very great
strength or powers of resisting water. But in these nests the
cover is so beautifully uniform, that no trace of a jaw can be de-
tected upon it.

Agreeing in general appearance, the nests vary somewhat in
color. Of the eight specimens, the generality are of the mush-
room-like hue which has already been mentioned. Others, how-
ever, rather vary in this respect, and the uniform yellowish-brown
is pleasingly diversified by patches of red. One of the nests, how-
ever, boldly departs from the general uniformity, the surface be-
ing not only reddish-brown over its whole extent, but as rough

NESTS OF APOICA. 603

as if made of sand-paper, or from the skin of a dogfish. One or
two, again, are much darker than the others; while one is almost
white, with only a tinge of gray.

Another point in these nests is, that although they vary so
much in diameter, their thickness is almost uniform. The reason
is evident enough. As the young larvas attain a tolerably uni-
form size, and are not boldly divided into large males, larger
queens, and little workers or neuters, the cells are of equal length.
Therefore, whether the number be great or small, the thickness
of the cell group remains unchanged, though the diameter may
increase to any reasonable amount.

All the nests are fixed in the same manner, a branch or twig
passing through the upper surface. When the nest increases in
size, the original support is often found to be too slight, and in
that case others are added. The smaller nests are upheld by a
single twig only, but the largest is supported at no less than three
points, two tolerably stout branches passing through the side of
the cover, and a smaller twig supporting the top.

Another point to be noticed is, that the size of the nest is no
criterion of its shape. It is not necessarily circular because it is
large, nor horizontal because it is small. The eight examples in
the British Museum show every gradation of shape between the
hexagon and the circle, without the least reference to size.

How the insect forms these wonderful cell groups is an enigma
to which not the least clew can be found. In proportion to the
size of the architect, they are simply enormous, and yet the sides
and angles are as true and just as if they were single cells. It is
very clear that neither the theory of excavation or of equal press-
ure can apply to these nests, and an additional reason is afforded
why these theories should be abandoned. It is to be regretted
that the only reasoning is of the destructive kind ; but at present
we have no data on which to found a theory that seems in the
least tenable.

In the nest to which reference has been made, the insects have
carried out the hexagonal principle in a curious manner. A
number of cells whose mouths are closed with a white silken cov-
er prove that the inmates are undergoing their metamorphosis,
and are in a transitional state between the larva and the perfect
insect. Instead, however, of being scattered at random through-
out the nest, the inhabited cells are arranged in the most system-
atic manner, a group occupying the centre, and being surrounded

604 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

at a little distance with a row of covered cells which follow the
shape of the exterior outline, and therefore take the shape of a
hexagon.

The insect well deserves its scientific title. The generic name
Apoica is formed from two Greek words, which signifies a colony,
and the specific title pallida is given in reference to the hue of
the body. It is not a handsome nor even a striking insect, being
long, slender, and very pale yellow, looking as if it had once been
decorated with a brighter covering. It has altogether a faded and
semi-bleached look, suggesting to a practical entomologist that it
had been subjected to sulphur-fumes, and thereby lost its color-
ing. Even the wings have the same pallid hue as the body, but
with a white cast, and altogether the insect seems far too purpose-
less of aspect to construct houses which demand so much energy
as those which we have just examined.

The last example of insect pensile nests is, I believe, one that
has not yet been described, owing to its recent arrival in this
country.

While I was examining some specimens in the insect-room of
the British Museum, two gentlemen brought for examination a
box full of insect habitations which they could not identify with
those of any known species. At first sight they appeared to be
specimens of galls, but a more careful inspection soon showed
their real character. They were formed very much like those of
the House-builder Moth (see page 302), but with a singular addi-
tion. Several specimens are now before me, which will be briefly
described.

The foundation of the nest is a structure of leaf-stems and frag-
ments of leaves, varjdng much in size, some being thicker than
crow-quills, and others as fine as ordinary needles. These are
arranged crosswise upon each other, so that the nest might easily
be mistaken for that of a large caddis- worm. The nests, howev-
er, differ much in form, size, and material, some being half as large
again as others, and some being made almost entirely of large
pieces of leaf, and others chiefly of stems, among which the leaf-
fragments are closely pressed.

We will now proceed to cut open one of these nests in order
to view its structure.

The outer covering is remarkably close, stiff, and tough, al-
though very thin, and crackles like parchment as the scissors pass

SOME CURIOUS NESTS. 605

through it. When cut, it is found to be almost distinct from the
nest which it covers, being only attached to the projecting ends
of the leaf-stems, and so slightly fastened to them that it can be
lifted off without injury, only leaving a few threads adherent to
the stem.

We now turn back the severed flap, and the body of the nest
comes to view. In the dry state the leaf-stems are so hard that
they require a strong and sharp pair of scissors to penetrate them.
I nearly broke a moderately fine pair of scissors in a vain endeav-
or to open the nest. Even in their fresh state the stems must
have been tolerably strong, and the architect must have possessed
a powerful pair of jaws for their severance. The stems are cross-
ed upon each other, much as confectioners cross sticks of choco-
late, so that the ends slightly protrude, and a hollow space is left
in the centre. Pressed tightly among the sticks are fragments of
leaves, not torn from the small delicate portions, but cut com-
pletely through the largest nervures, and seeming, indeed, as if
the strongest parts of the leaves were intentionally selected. In
the specimens now before me the upper surface of the leaf is al-
ways toward the exterior of the nest.

We now take a very strong and sharp pair of scissors, push
one point into the nest, and carefully cut a flap corresponding
with the severed portion of the silken cover. The flap is easily
turned back, and discloses a smooth and silken lining, much re-
sembling that which forms the cover. The lining, however, is
softer than the cover, and does not crackle when bent. Thus we
see that the nest consists of four distinct layers : first, the soft
silken lining, then a cover of leaf- fragments, then a protecting
ehevaux-de-frise of stems, and lastly a cover of silk, so that the
inhabitant is as well protected from weather and foes as can be
imagined.

The next proceeding is to discover the architects of the nests.
This is easily done, for some of the architects have assumed their
perfect state during the voyage home, while others are preserved
by spirits, in which their discoverer has thoughtfully placed some
specimens.

Here I may be allowed to mention that the example set by Mr.
W. J.Tomkinson, who sent over these interesting objects, is one
which is well worthy of imitation. Residents in other countries
are too apt to forget the interests of their own, and they soon be-
come familiar with the objects which at first are new and strange

606 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

to them, and at last become entirely indifferent. Even when they
do take the trouble to collect and send home a few objects, they
do so in such a manner that they are almost useless, no descrip-
tion being given of them, and no clew afforded which can help
the home-staying student.

Here, however, proper pains have been taken, and the value of
the objects is in consequence multiplied a hundred-fold. A num-
ber of nests were sent as they were collected from the branches,
and, in order to show that the architect is not confined to one spe-
cies of tree, they have been carefully selected from several trees,
such as the oak, acacia, and alder. My specimens are taken from
the last-mentioned tree. Knowing that the pupas would become
moths in the course of the voyage, Mr. Tomkinson placed a num-
ber of them in the box, so that a perfect series of the insect has
been obtained, namely, the male and female, pupa and larva, some
in the dried state and others in spirits, in order that the internal
anatomy might be examined.

Before the male caterpillar changes into a chrysalis it reverses
its position, so that the head is close to the orifice which was pre-
viously occupied by the tail. "When it has completed its change,
and is about to issue into the world, it forces itself out of the nest
as far as the base of the abdomen. The female never leaves her
home, and never changes her attitude, and scarcely changes her
form. After she has emerged from the pupal state she seems to
return to her former condition, and would be taken by any ordi-
nary observer for a caterpillar of more than ordinary fatness.
She has no wings, and no legs to speak of, these members being
needless in a creature that never changes her position. It is rath-
er curious that the males should ever be able to find their spouses,
but they are probably led by an instinct which we can not com-
prehend, as is the case with several of the larger British moths.

The male is a rather small though stoutly-made insect, and is
not at all attractive in color, being simple brown, with a few black
markings on the wings. The antennae, however, are very beau-
tiful, being doubly feathered, like those of the House-builder Moth,
the feathering being widest at the base, and narrowing gradually
to the tip. The whole of the body is clothed with long, dense,
and soft hair, of a pale brown, and having a silken lustre. These
beautiful nests were brought to the Museum by E. H. Armitage,
Esq., who kindly presented me with the specimens which have
been described.

CONCEALMENT AND PROTECTION. 607

A somewhat similar nest, but of a much more formidable as-
pect, was discovered by W. B. Lord, Esq., E. A., and has been fig-
ured in the Boys' Own Magazine for August, 186-1. The shape of
the nest is very remarkable, and is exactly that of a soda-water
bottle suspended by its neck. A very tolerable imitation of this
curious nest could be made by coating a soda-water bottle with
clay, and sticking it full of porcupine quills, with the points radi-
ating on every side. The following is Mr. Lord's own description :

" On looking closely at the thorny, sinuous branches, we shall
see a number of little pendent prickly things, each hanging to its
own silken cord, like juvenile hedgehogs 'lynched' by the fairies
of the spring.

" These are a peculiar species of l tree-caddis,' which, as far as
I know, are as yet undescribed by any one. Their cases are cu-
riously armed with thorns, nipped from the tree on which they
hang. The thorns are all disposed with their points outward,
and are stuck into a strong, glutinous material of which the body
of the case is composed, and they look for all the world like the
spikes of clievaux-de-frise. A web-like skein of singularly strong
material serves as a rope whereby to swing the caddis-case from
the branch to which it is attached. And a nest more difficult to
swallow, and hard to digest, its enemies would be rather puzzled
to find."

As is frequently the case with such nests, the peculiar form
serves a double purpose, namely, protection and concealment, the
sharp points of the thorns performing the former duty, and their
similarity to surrounding objects the latter. Acacias are conspic-
uous for the thorns with which their branches and sometimes
their trunks are studded, and in several species the wooden bay-
onets are several inches in length, and as large and sharp as por-
cupine quills. These thorns are crowded thickly on the branch-
es, and always diverge from each other, so that the hand can
scarcely be insinuated among the boughs without suffering sev-
eral wounds. The nest being surrounded with these thorns, it is
evident that all ordinary foes would be baffled by such an array
of points, no matter how anxious they might be to get at the
creature within.

The thorns are equally efficient as a means of concealment, for,
as they are taken from the tree itself, they cause the nest to har-
monize so perfectly with surrounding objects that it is not very
easily perceived.

608 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

As long as the caterpillar remains in its larval state, and is
obliged to feed, it traverses the branches freely, carrying with it
the prickly home, and bearing the whole of its weight as it moves.
But when the pupal stage has nearly arrived, the nest is suspend-
ed to the branch by strong silken threads, and thenceforth re-
mains immovable.

CHAPTER XXXI.

MISCELLANEA.

The Poltzoa and their varied and beautiful Forms. — The Raft Spider. — Why so

called. Mode of obtaining Prey. — Mice and their Homes. — The Campagnol or

Harvest-mouse. — Its general Habits. — Its winter and summer Nest. — Its Store-
house and Provisions.— Entrance to the Nest. — The Wood Mouse and its Nest.
— Uses of the Field-mice. — The Domestic Mouse. — Various Nests. — Rapidity
of Nest-building.— A Nest in a Bottle. — The Cell of the Queen Termite. — Its
Entrances and Exits. — Size of the Inmates.— The Fungus Ant and its singular
Home.— Material, Structure, and Size of the Nest. — The Clothes Moths and
their various Species. — Habitations of the Clothes Moth, and the Method of For-
mation and Enlargement. — The Elk and its winter Home. — The Snow Fortress
and its Leaguers.— Its Use, Advantages, and Dangers. — The Albatross and its
Mode of Nesting.— Strange Scenes.— The Edible Sav allow.— Its Mode of Nest-
ing. —Origin of its Name. — Description of the Nest. — Curious Legend respecting
the Bird.— The Eagle and its Mode of Nesting.— Difficulty of reaching the Eyrie.
—The Nightingale and its Nest.— Other ground-building Birds and their tem-
porary Homes.— The Noddy.— Perilous Position of the Eggs and Young.— The
Coot, and its semi-aquatic Nest.

In this, the concluding chapter, are described sundry habita-
tions which can not well be classed in any of the previously men-
tioned groups, and which present some peculiarities which render
them worthy of a separate notice.

We will begin with two aquatic habitations, one fixed, and set
below the surface of the water, and the other movable and float-
ing upon it.

Any one who is in the habit of frequenting the sea-shore must
have observed certain rough, leaf-like objects, which are popu-
larly called Sea Mats, one of which is shown, of its natural size,
at Fig. 13. These objects are popularly supposed to be sea-weeds,
and are therefore called Lemon-weeds, because they give forth an
odor which somewhat resembles the fragrant oil of the Lemon-
peel. Their origin, however, is of an animal and not a vegetable

gjjfljjjjljjjlig^

THE COMMON SEA MAT. 611

nature, for they are the submarine houses of a vast class of ani-
mals technically called Polyzoa, because many distinct animals
are associated together in one community.

For many years their place in the scale of creation was ex-
tremely dubious, but they are now acknowledged to be allied to
the molluscs, and to be really of a higher nature than the bright
and active insects. In general form they so resemble the zoo-
phytes that the two great groups have been confused together,
although they are in reality farther apart than the monkey and
the snail. They assume various forms, which may be reduced to
three, namely, a flat, leaf-like shape, a form as of delicate branch-
ing twigs, and a flat series of cells spreading over other substances,
such as the stem or frond of a sea- weed, an empty shell, or sub-
merged plant, and similar objects.

The most familiar of these Polyzoa is the common Sea Mat,
which has already been mentioned, and which is called by the
scientific name of Flustra foliacea. If the finger be passed over
one of these leaf-like objects, a decided roughness is felt, like the
surface of a file, and if it be drawn through the hand from base
to tip, the roughness becomes so marked that the leaf can hardly
pass. The reason for this roughness may be seen by reference to
Fig. 12, which is a magnified representation of a part of the same
object. It will be seen that the Flustra is composed of a vast
number of cells, each cell being furnished with little tooth-like
projections, which produce the roughness already mentioned.

The cells are formed by their inhabitants, and very much re-
semble in outward form the polypi which fill the cells of the zoo-
phytes, each of which possesses a beautiful plume of tentacles, as
is seen in the uppermost cell. When the animals are at rest they
are withdrawn so closely into their cells that they can not be seen ;
but when they are hungry and desirous of feeding, they push
themselves out of their houses, like so many snails out of their
shells, expand their beautiful plumes, and await the food which is
brought to them by the action of the water. Under the micro-
scope they are lovely objects, and even when they are dead their
empty habitations are full of beauty.

A detailed description of all the species which are represented
in the illustration would occupy too much space, even if it were
desirable. Suffice it to say, that they have been selected in order
to show the wonderful variety that exists among them, and the
exceeding beauty of their forms. Perhaps the most elegant forms

612

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

are to be found among the Lepralia, plenty of which are to be
found on any sea-coast, spreading over the fronds and stems of
sea-weeds, and sometimes entirely hiding their surface. Farther
information may be obtained by reference to works on Natural
History, and especially to the admirable monograph on this sub-
ject, written by Mr. Bush, which forms part of the Catalogue of
the British Museum.

The names of the different objects are as follows :

1. Farciminaria aculeata.

2. Lepralia reticulata.

3. Gattyae.

4. Cupularia Lowei.

5. Bicellaria gracilis.

6. Buskia nitens.

7. Lepralia alata.

8. Catenicella perforata.

9. Lepralia spinifera.

10. Crisia eburnia (magnified).

11. (natural size).

12. Flustra foliacea (magnified).

13. (nat. size).

The second aquatic habitation is of a very curious character,
and is made by a spider. The reader will remember that the
water spider is in the habit of constructing beneath the water a
permanent home, to which it retires with the prey which it has
caught, and in which it brings up its young. There is another
spider which frequents the water, but which only makes a tem-
porary and movable residence. This is the Raft Spider (Dolo-
medes Jimbriatus), which is represented in the illustration of its
natural size.

Kaft .Spider.

As may be seen by reference to the figure, it is a large species,
being, indeed, one of the largest British spiders, its size depend-

THE RAFT SPIDER. 613

ing more upon the dimensions of the body than the length of
the limbs. It is a remarkably handsome spider, its general color
being chocolate-brown, and a broad orange band being drawn so
as to mark the outline of the abdomen and thorax. There is a
double row of small white spots upon the surface of the abdomen,
and a number of short dark transverse bars give variety to the
coloring. The limbs are pale red.

This creature belongs to that group of spiders which do not
live in a web, and wait for casual insects, but which chase their
prey after the manner of carnivorous vertebrates. Indeed, it may
fairly be said to belong to the large group of wolf spiders, and is
nearly allied to them.

The Eaft Spider is only to be found in fenny or marshy places,
and is mostly seen in the fens of Cambridgeshire, where its re-
markable habits have long been known. Not content with chas-
ing insects on land, it follows them in the water, on the surface
of which it can run freely. It needs, however, a resting-place,
and forms one by getting together a quantity of dry leaves and
similar substances, which it gathers into a rough ball, and fastens
with silken threads. On this ball the Spider sits, and allows it-
self to be blown about the water by the wind. Apparently it has
no means of directing its course, but suffers its raft to traverse the
surface as the wind or current may carry it.

There is no lack of prey, for the aquatic insects are constantly
coming up to breathe the air; and although they may only re-
main on the surface for a second or two, the Spider can seize them
before they can gain the safe refuge of the deeper water. Then
there are insects, such as the gnat, which attain their wings on the
surface of the water, and can be taken by the Spider before they
have gained strength for flight. Also, there are insects which
habitually traverse the water in search of prey, and which are
themselves seized by the more powerful and equally voracious
Spider. More than this, moths, flies, beetles, and other insects are
continually falling into the water, and these afford the easiest prey
to the Eaft Spider, who pounces upon them as they vainly strug-
gle to regain the air, and then carries them back to its raft, there
to devour them in peace.

The Spider does not merely sit upon the raft, and there capture
any prey that may happen to come within reach, but when it sees
an insect upon the surface, it leaves the raft, runs swiftly over the
water, secures its prey, and brings it back to the raft. It can even

614 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

descend below the surface of the water, and will often crawl sev-
eral inches in depth. This feat it does not perform by diving,
as is the case with the water spider, but by means of the aquatic
plants, down whose stems it crawls. Its capability of existing for
some time beneath the surface of the water is often the means of
saving its life ; for, when it sees an enemy approaching, it quietly
slips under the raft, and there lies in perfect security until the
danger has passed away.

There is, living in the same localities, a closely-allied species,
the Pirate Spider (Lycosa piratica), which has similar habits,
chasing its prey on the water, and descending as well below the
surface. It does not, however, possess the power of making a raft.

In a previous chapter of this work, the beautiful pensile nest
of the Harvest - mouse has been described and figured, and the
burrows of other species of mouse have been cursorily mentioned.
I shall now proceed to describe the nests of the common Field
Mice, together with the habitation of the little brown-coated, long-
tailed, sharp-nosed rodent that is so familiar in houses unguarded
by cats or traps.

We will first take the nest of the Short-tailed Field-mouse,
otherwise termed Campagnol, or Field Vole (Arvicola arvensis).
This pretty little creature, whose red back, gray belly, short ears,
and blunt nose might be seen daily if human eyes were more
accustomed to observation, is extremely plentiful in the fields,
especially those of a low - lying and marshy character, such as
water meadows and hay-fields near rivers.

Though more nocturnal than diurnal in their habits, the little
creatures are not afraid of daylight, and I have often captured
them when the sun was at its meridian height. But they are so
smooth and easy in their movements, harmonize so well with the
color of the soil, and glide so deftly between the grass, that they
can scarcely be distinguished even when the blades are only a
few inches in length. I have known them to traverse the ground
while a game of cricket was proceeding, and to cross the closely-
mown space between the wickets as if serenely conscious of their
invisibility.

They seem to glide rather than to walk, and thread their way
silently and without noise. Even when the grass is short, a little
patch of reddish earth attracts no attention, and the red-brown fur
of the mouse is so similar to such earth that few would notice it.

THE SHORT-TAILED FIELD-MOUSE. 615

But if a more attentive observer finds that in a few seconds the
ruddy patch has changed its place, his suspicions are at once
aroused, and he examines the moving tint more curiously. He
must, however, keep his eye upon it as he moves toward it, for if
he once lose sight of it he will in all probability miss it altogether,
and think that his eye must have deceived him.

Toward the evening, however, the Campagnol is less fearful,
and not only traverses the fields, but ascends the shrubs and
plants in search of food. It climbs nearly as well as a squirrel,
its sharp nails hooking themselves into every irregularity of the
bark, and its long, finger-like toes clasping round the grass stems
and little twigs like the paws of a monkey. An autumnal even-
ing is the best time for watching the Campagnol, and if the ob-
server will only remain perfectly quiet, and keep a good opera-
glass in readiness, he will be greatly interested by the little ani-
mal. A hedge in which are plenty of dog-roses is a likely place
for the Campagnol, as the animal is very fond of the ripe hips,
and ascends the shrubs in search of its daily food. When it
reaches the branch, bending with the scarlet load, the mouse runs
swiftly and sure-footed as a rope-dancer, and carries off a store of
the fruit, partly for present consumption and partly for a stock of
winter food.

For the little creature is not one of the hibernating animals,
or, at all events, the semi-sleep is of so light a character that the
mouse comes often abroad, even in the depth of winter. It is
undeterred by severe frost, and takes little heed of snow, as is
proved by its tiny footmarks being tracked in the white and
yielding substance.

This little mouse makes two kinds of nest, one for the winter
and another for the summer. The winter nest is below ground,
and is approached by a hole varying much in length. As the
cavity in which the nest reposes is larger than the tunnel, and of
a globular form, it is mostly usurped by the wasp when the Mouse
deserts it for summer quarters. Sometimes it is placed at some
depth in the ground, but usually is only a few inches from the
surface. This is the nest to which Burns refers in his well-known
poem upon the Field-mouse whose nest he had inadvertently
plowed up.

Besides the winter nest itself, the animal has a store-house or
cellar in which are placed the provisions intended for winter use,
when the weather prohibits the Mouse from leaving its home, or

616 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

when the surrounding shrubs and bushes are plundered of their
fruits and denuded of their bark. In this store-house the animal
conceals quantities of hips and other provisions, among which are
found numbers of cherry-stones.

The summer nest is of entirely a different construction, being
placed above ground, though tolerably well concealed. The fol-
lowing account of it, by Mr. J. J. Briggs, appeared originally in
the Field newspaper. "No wonder that in districts where they
are difficult to keep down they increase with rapidity, for, like
the common Mouse, they are prolific breeders. I have found
nests of this mouse in almost every week from the end of May to
the middle of August, and each containing from one to ten young,
usually from five to seven. The young look poor helpless creat-
ures, being both blind and naked. They leave the nest in about
a month, but remain with their parents for some time afterward.

" The nest is placed on the ground in a pasture or meadow ; a
field of mowing grass is preferred, but I have found it among
corn, where the long herbage affords the coveted quiet and con-
cealment ; but when the crop is cut the nest is laid bare, and the
young frequently fall a prey to hawks and other depredators.
The nest is built in a little hollow on the surface of the earth,
just concealed at the bottom of the stems of grass. If you pull
it out it looks like a lump of herbs or flax, being composed of
numerous small pieces of grass nibbled to a fine texture with care
by the parent animals.

"I have taken up dozens of nests to examine, but in no single
instance could I ever find an entrance to the interior. How the
parents gain admittance to it seems extraordinary. This remark
applies to the nest of the White-bellied Field-mouse, and White,
of Selborne, notices the same fact with reference to the harvest-
mouse. How the young are suckled seems marvelous, unless the
conjecture be correct that the female opens a fresh aperture in
the nest each time she visits her young, and closes it again when
she departs.

" The parents show considerable affection for their young. If
a nest be exposed by the mower they do not desert it, but, on the
contrary, endeavor to conceal it from observation as well as they
can by drawing round it the neighboring grasses and plants."

The same writer remarks that he has several times caught the
Short-tailed Field-mouse in the hedges while "bat -fowling" at
night for small birds. He has also found that when the Mouse

THE LONG-TAILED FIELD-MOUSE. 617

eats hips, it nibbles off one end and extracts the seeds, rejecting
the husks as uneatable. Man, however, acts in just the reverse
manner, rejecting the seeds with their cottony envelopes, and eat-
ing the sweet husk, or sometimes boiling it up with sugar and
making; it into a conserve.

The cherry-stones are mostly obtained through the agency of
blackbirds, thrushes, and other feathered fruit - lovers. These
birds pluck the cherries, often leaving the stones adhering slight-
ly to the stalks, or dropping them on the ground. In the former
case the stones are sure to be thrown down when the legitimate
owner gathers the fruit, so that the Mouse who is fortunate
enough to live in a cherry-growing district is sure of a winter
stock of food. Several hundred cherry-stones are sometimes
placed in a single store-house, affording sustenance to several
mice.

The animal eats them in a peculiar manner. Instead of split-
ting them open by using the chisel-edged teeth or wedges, after
the manner of school-boys opening nuts and peach-stones with
their pocket-knives, the Mouse nibbles off one end of the stone
so as to make a little hole, and through this small aperture it con-
trives to extract the solid kernel.

The Long-tailed Field-mouse or Wood Mouse (Mus sylvat-
icus) also makes a winter nest, in which it lives, but to which it
does not absolutely confine itself, making several nests in the
course of a season, and selecting such spots as appear to please
its fancy at the time. Mr. Briggs remarks that he has known one
of these mice to make a nest in three days.

One species of Field-mouse sometimes does good service to
mankind, through its habit of storing up its winter stock of pro-
visions. Lately in the country about Odessa vast armies of mice
were seen, and evidently did much damage. Not only did they
eat the crops, but they swarmed into the houses in such numbers
that traps could hardly be set fast enough, twenty or thirty being
often taken in a single day.

Hurtful though they were in some senses, they nevertheless
had their uses. The country is liable to the attacks of locusts,
which in that year happened to be particularly numerous. These
destructive insects, as is the case with many of their order, lay
their eggs inclosed in capsules, something like the well-known
egg-cases of our too common cockroach. The mice were very
fond of the egg capsules, and not only devoured them as part of

618 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

their daily food, but carried them away, laid them up in their
treasuries for a winter store, thus thinning the locust armies far
more effectually than man could have done.

We now come to the Common Mouse of our houses (Mus
musculus).

This little animal is a notable house-builder, making nests out
of various materials, and placing them in various situations.
There seems to be hardly any place in which a Mouse will not
establish itself, and scarcely any materials of which it will not
make its nest. Hay, leaves, straw, bitten into suitable lengths,
roots, and dried herbage, are the usual materials employed by
this animal when it is in the country.

When it becomes a town mouse and lives in houses, it accom-
modates itself to circumstances, and is never in want of a situa-
tion for a nest or materials wherewithal to make a comfortable
house. It will use up old rags, tow, bits of rejected cord, paper,
and any such materials as can be found straggling about a house;
and if it can find no fragments, it helps itself very unceremo-
niously to, and cuts to pieces books, newspapers, curtains, or gar-
ments.

Many instances of remarkable Mouse-nests are recorded, among
which the following are worthy of mention.

As is usual at the end of autumn, a number of flower-pots had
been set aside in a shed, in waiting for the coming spring. To-
ward the middle of winter the shed was cleared out and the flow-
er-pots removed. While carrying them out of the shed the own-
er was rather surprised to find a round hole in the mould, and
therefore examined it more closely. In the hole was seen, not a
plant, but the tail of a mouse, which leaped from the pot as soon
as it was set down. Presently another mouse followed from the
same aperture, showing that a nest lay beneath the soil. On re-
moving the earth, a neat and comfortable nest was found, made
chiefly of straw and paper, the entrance to which was the hole
through which the inmates had fled.

The most curious point in connection with this nest was, that
although the earth in the pot seemed to be intact except for the
round hole, which might have been made by a stick, none was
found within it. The ingenious little architects had been clever
enough to scoop out the whole of the earth and to carry it away,
so as to form a cavity for the reception of their nest. They did

THE COMMON MOUSE. 619

not completely empty the pot, as if knowing by instinct that
their habitation would be betrayed. Accordingly, they allowed
a slight covering of earth to remain upon their nest, and had la-
boriously carried out the whole of the mould through the little
aperture which has been mentioned. The flower-pot was placed
on a shelf in the shed, and the earth was quite hard, so that in the
process of excavation there was little danger that it would fall
upon the architects.

Another nest was discovered in rather an ingenious position.
A bird had built a nest upon a shrub in a garden, and, as is usual
in such cases, had placed its home near the ground. A Mouse
of original genius saw the nest, and perceived its value. Accord-
ingly, she built her own nest immediately below that of the bird,
so that she and her young were sheltered as by a roof. So close-
ly had she fixed her habitation, that, as her young ran in and out
of their home, their bodies pressed against the floor of the bird's
nest above them. No less than six young were discovered in
this ingenious nest.

Another very remarkable nest of the Common Mouse has been
chronicled in the same journal to which reference has repeatedly
been made. " Early in March we set a hen ; and, as her nest
was a basket, a sack was placed under and around it, so as to
keep in the heat. When the hen was set she was in good feath-
er, wearing an ample tail, according to her kind (the Brahma) ;
but as the three weeks went on, her tail seemed much broken,
assumed a dilapidated appearance, and finally became a mere
stump. This excited notice and surprise, as there was nothing
near her against which she was likely to spoil her tail.

" When the chickens were hatched, and they and their mother
were taken to a fresh nest, and the old one removed, it was
found that a Mouse had constructed a beautiful nest under the
basket. The body of the nest was made of tow scraped from the
sack, and chopped or gnawed hay from the hen's nest ; while the
lining was made of the feathers of her tail, which had evidently
been removed, a small bit at a time, as wanted, until all the feath-
ers were reduced to stumps, showing marks of the Mouse's teeth.
We should have liked to have heard the hen's remarks on the
transaction when the Mouse was nibbling her tail."

In this case the Mouse improved on the conduct of her rela-
tive that built in the garden ; for, by placing her nest in such a
position, she not only secured the very best materials for her

620

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

home, but enjoyed the advantage of the regular and high tem-
perature which proceeded from the body of the sitting hen, and
which was admirably adapted for the well-being of her young

family.

The last example of a remarkable Mouse-nest is that which is
figured in the accompanying illustration, and which was drawn
from the actual object.

A number of empty bottles had been stowed away upon a
shelf, and among them was found one which was tenanted by a
Mouse. The little creature had considered that the bottle would

Mouse-nest in a Bottle.

afford a suitable home for her young, and had therefore conveyed
into it a quantity of bedding, which she made into a nest. The
bottle was filled with the nest, and the eccentric architect had
taken the precaution to leave a round hole corresponding to the
neck of the bottle. In this remarkable domicile the young were
placed ; and it is a fact worthy of notice that no attempt had been
made to shut out the light. Nothing would have been easier
than to have formed the cavity at the under side, so that the soft
materials of the nest would exclude the light ; but the Mouse
had simply formed a comfortable hollow for her young, and
therein she had placed her offspring. It is therefore evident that,
the Mouse has no fear of light, but that it only chooses darkness
as a means of safety for its young.

WHITE ANTS. 621

The rapidity with which the Mouse can make a nest is some-
what surprising. One of the Cambridge journals mentioned,
some few years ago, that in a farmer's house a loaf of newly-
baked bread was placed upon a shelf, according to custom. Next
day a hole was observed in the loaf; and when it was cut open,
a Mouse and her nest were discovered within, the latter having
been made of paper. On examination, the material of the habit-
ation was found to have been obtained from a copy-book, which
had been torn into shreds and arranged into the form of a nest.

Within this curious home were nine young mice, pink, trans-
parent, and newly born. Thus, in the space of thirty -six hours at
the most, the loaf must have cooled, the interior been excavated,
the copy-book found and cut into suitable pieces, the nest made,
and the young brought into the world. Surely it is no wonder
that mice are so plentiful, or that their many enemies fail to ex-
terminate them.

A general account of the Termites, or White Ants, as they
are popularly but erroneously called, has been given under the
head of Building Insects, and it has been mentioned that the fe-
male, or queen, has a cell distinct from the habitation of her sub-
jects, and that she never leaves it until her death. In order that
the reader should understand more fully the structure of the roy-
al cell, an illustration of it is introduced on the following page.

When viewed from the outside it would hardly be recognized
for the habitation of an insect, for it looks like a large lump of
hardened clay, about as large as an ordinary French roll, and not
very unlike it in shape. On a closer inspection, a number of lit-
tle holes may be seen, and these apertures afford an unfailing in-
dication as to the real nature of the clay lump. Fig. 2 represents
the external appearance of one of these cells.

Supposing that a queen Termite cell be cut vertically, so that
the knife passes through either of the little round holes, it will
present an appearance which is shown at Fig. 1. The large hol-
low of the cell is nearly filled by the body of the female, whose
head and thorax are seen in the cavity. On either side is a sec-
tion of the little holes, which are shown to be cylindrical passages
communicating with the interior of the cell. The worker Ter-
mites, being very small, can traverse these passages with perfect
ease, while the enormous body of the. female is utterly unable to
pass.

622

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

Termite Cell.

Through these passages the workers are continually passing,
some entering with empty jaws, and others emerging, each hold-
ing between its mandibles an egg, which it is conveying to the
nurseries. So rapidly are the eggs laid, that the workers are fully
employed in carrying them out and placing them under the
charge of the nurses.

The contrast in size between the workers and the queen can
easily be seen by reference to the illustration. At Fig. 5 is shown
the queen, and in the right hand of Fig. 1 is seen one of the
workers passing through the tunnel. None but the workers can
pass through so small an aperture, for the fighters or soldiers are
of very much greater size than the workers, as may be seen at
Fig. 4.

The queen, however, is necessarily very much reduced in size,
as, if she had been drawn of her full dimensions, she would have
occupied the whole length of the drawing. Before she is im-
mured in the royal cell she is by no means a large insect, the ab-

FUNGUS ANT. 623

clomen being in ordinary proportion to the thorax and head ; but
when she has been fairly installed in her office her abdomen be-
gins to enlarge, until it becomes so enormous that she is totally
unable to move, and therefore her enforced prison is so far from
being a hardship that it is a necessary protection for her huge
and soft body, which is several hundred times larger than that of
her mate. Large indeed she must be, as she is calculated to pro-
duce, on the average, rather more than thirty million eggs.

Figs. 3, 3 show the appearance of the royal cell when split open
longitudinally, the recess which contains the queen being seen
nearly in the centre. All the drawings were taken from speci-
mens in the British Museum, and in the cell which is here figured
the outline of the queen is quite perceptible, having been im-
pressed on the interior of the cell. The mode by which it is en-
larged is also shown, a farther enlargement having been begun,
but cut short by the demolition of the nest. The cells vary very
much in size, probably in accordance with the dimensions of the
inclosed queen. I have seen them as large as cocoa-nuts, and of
an extraordinary weight, the greater portion of the mass being
solid clay.

The following illustration represents a most singular struc-
ture, which is in the collection of the British Museum, and may
be seen in the nest-room.

It is hardly possible to imagine any object which less resembles
an insect's nest. It might very well be taken for a sponge, did
sponge grow in the forests of Cayenne. It much resembles a
fungus, and might be mistaken for an overgrown and partially
decayed puff-ball. If inspected closely it seems to be made of
the same fungus that furnishes the German tinder, and is indeed,
like that substance, very useful as a means of stopping the flow
of blood.

The real material, however, of which the nest is made is formed
of the short cottony fibres which fill the seed-pods of the cotton-
tree {Bornbax ceiba). The fibre is so short that it is incapable of
being woven into fabrics, though it might possibly be made use-
ful in the manufacture of paper, its texture being peculiarly soft
and silky. The only uses to which it is at present applied are
stuffing mattresses and pillows, and packing delicate goods, and
heading the tiny poisoned arrows which are projected through
the blow-gun of the native.

624

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

Fungus Ant

These ants, however, find the fibre useful for their work, and
contrive to weave it so dexterously that the individuality of the
fibres is lost, and they are all made into a compact and uniform
mass. The size of the nests varies, but is sometimes very consid-
erable, a full-sized nest being often as large as a man's head.

The ant itself is rather a curious little creature, dark in color,
covered with many angular protuberances, and being remarkable
for a couple of long, sharp spines that project from the thorax,
one on either side. Its scientific names, Polyrachis bispinosa, are
given in consequence of these projections, the first name being
composed of two Greek words signifying many-peaked, and the
second being formed from two Latin words signifying two-spined.

There are many insects whose habitations are peculiarly an-
noying to mankind, and yet are extremely interesting to those
who take an interest in the workings of instinct. Chief among
these insects is the well-known Clothes Moth. There are sev-
eral allied species which popularly go by this name, but the most
plentiful is that which bears the scientific title of Tinea vestianella.
These destructive little creatures are proverbially injurious to
clothes, especially if the garments be made of wool or furs, vege-
table fabrics being not to their taste. Some species affect dried
insects, and are, in consequence, extremely baleful to the entomol-

THE CLOTHES MOTH. 625

oo-ist; while their ravages on furs and feathers, and even on
leather itself, render them the dread of those who, like myself,
possess collections of natural history or ethnology.

In their winged state the moths themselves do no direct harm ;
but their young are doubly mischievous, firstly, because they de-
vour the fabrics in which they live, and secondly, because they
cut up the cloth, fur, or feathers in order to obtain material for
their home. Possibly for the sake of concealment as well as pro-
tection, the larva instinctively forms a habitation which entirely
covers its white body, and which is almost imperceptible to the
eye, because it is formed of the same materials as the fabric on
which it lies.

The habitation is tubular in form, though not exactly cylin-
drical, being rather larger in the middle than at the ends, and
open so as to allow the extremities of the caterpillar to protrude.
One object in this structure is to enable the inmate to turn in its
cell, an operation which must necessarily be performed whenever
the tubular home is enlarged. The process of enlargement is
continually going on, and it is in consequence of this proceeding
that so much material is used.

The manner in which the little creature enlarges its home is
as follows :

Without quitting its tubular home, it cuts a longitudinal slit
throughout half its length or so, and opens the case to the re-
quired width. It then proceeds to weave a triangular piece of
webbing, with which it fills up the opened slit, and joins the
edges with perfect accuracy. As one end of the case is now
larger than the other, the caterpillar turns its attention to the
other end, cuts it open, widens it, and fills up the gap precisely
as it had done to the first part. When the soft tube is sufficient-
ly widened, it is lengthened by the addition of rings to each ex-
tremity.

By taking advantage of this peculiar method of house-making,
observant persons have forced the Clothes Moth to make their
tubular homes of any color and almost of any pattern. By shift-
ing the caterpillar from one colored cloth to another, the required
tints are produced, and the pattern is gained by watching the
creature at work, and transferring it at the proper season. For
example, a very pretty specimen can be produced by turning out
of its original home a half-grown caterpillar, and putting it on a
piece of bright green cloth. After it has rrfade its tube it can be

Br

626 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

shifted to a black cloth, and when it has cut the longitudinal slit,
and has half filled it up, it can be transferred to a piece of scarlet
cloth, so that the complementary colors of green and scarlet are
brought into juxtaposition, and "thrown out" by the contrast
with the black.

The caterpillar is not very particular as to the kind of material
which it employs and on which it feeds. Mr. Eennie makes the
following observations on one of these creatures, whose proceed-
ings he had watched. "The caterpillar first took up its abode in
a specimen of the ghost moth (Ifejnalus humuli), where, finding
few suitable materials for building, it had recourse to the cork of
the drawer, with the chips of which it made a structure almost
as warm as it would have done from wool. Whether it took of-
fense at our disturbing it one day, or whether it did not find suf-
ficient food in the body of the ghost moth, we know not; but it
left its cork house, and traveling about eighteen inches, selected
the ' old lady' moth (Mormo maura), one of the largest insects in
the drawer, and built a new apartment, composed partly of cork
as before, and partly of bits clipped out of the moth's wings.

"We have seen these caterpillars form their habitations of
every sort of insect, from a butterfly to a beetle, and the soft,
feathery wings of moths answer their purpose very well; but
when they fall in with such hard materials as the musk beetle,
or the large scolopendra of the West Indies, they find some diffi-
culty in the building.

"When the structure is finished, the insect deems itself secure
to feed on the materials of the cloth, or other animal matter with-
in its reach, provided it is dry, and free from fat or grease, which
Reaumur found it would not touch. For building, it always se-
lects the straightest and loosest pieces of wood ; but for food it
prefers the shortest and most compact; and to procure these, it
eats into the body of the stuff, rejecting the pile or nap, which it
necessarily cuts across at the origin and permits to fall, leaving it
threadbare, as if it had been much worn."

From the account which has just been given, it is evident that
the caterpillar must be able to turn completely round in its case,
and in order to enable it to perform this evolution, the tube is
much wider in the middle than at the ends.

The instinct of the parent moth enables it to discover with as-
tonishing certainty any substance which may afford food to its
future young. Stuffed birds suffer terribly from the moth, be-

THE ELK, OR MOOSE. 627

cause the arsenical soap with which the skins are preserved does
not extend its poisonous influence to the feathers. I have known
whole cases of birds to be destroyed by the moth, all the feathers
being eaten, and nothing left but the bare skins.

Even the most deadly poison, corrosive sublimate, is not effect-
ual, unless it settles on every feather. There is now before me a
stuffed golden-eye duck, preserved by myself, the close plumage
of which has partially thrown off the poisoned solution, and has
consequently admitted the moth in small patches of feathers, es-
pecially about the neck. There is also in my collection a Kaffir
shield, made of an ox-hide, which has been washed with the so-
lution, and is almost entirely secure from the depredations of the
moth. Yet there are one or two spots where a thong has pro-
tected the hair, and in those very spots the pertinacious moths
have laid their eggs, and, in one or two instances, the caterpillars
have succeeded in attaining their perfect state.

If the reader will refer to the large illustration, he will see a
representation of that curious temporary habitation which is pop-
ularly termed an Elk-yard.

The Elk, or Moose (Alces malehis), inhabits the northern parts
of America and Europe, and is consequently an animal which is
formed to endure severe cold. Although a very large and pow-
erful animal, measuring semetimes seven feet in height at the
shoulders— a height which is very little less than that of an aver-
age elephant — it has many foes, and is much persecuted both by
man and beast. During the summer time it is tolerably safe, but
in the winter it is beset by many perils.

In its native country the snow falls so thickly that the inhab-
itants of a more temperate climate can hardly imagine the result
of a heavy storm. The face of the earth is wholly changed—
well-known pits and declivities have vanished — white hills stand
where was formerly a level plain— tier upon tier of mimic fortifi-
cations rise above each other, the walls being scarped and cut by
the wind in weird resemblance of human architecture.

During the sharp frosts the Elk runs but little risk, because it
can traverse the hard, frozen surface of the snow with considera-
ble speed, although with a strange, awkward gait. Its usual pace
is a swinging trot ; but so light is its action, and so long are its
legs, that it quietly trots over obstacles which a horse could not
easily leap, because the frozen surface of the snow, although com-

628 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

petent to withstand the regular trotting force, could not endure
the sudden impact of a horse when leaping. As an example of
the curious trot of this animal, I may mention that on one occa-
sion an Elk was seen to trot uninterruptedly over a number of
fallen tree-trunks, some of which were nearly five feet in diam-
eter.

It is a remarkable fact that the split hoofs of the Elk spread
widely when the foot is placed on the ground, coming together
again with a loud snap when it is raised. In consequence of this
peculiarity the Elk's progress is rather noisy, the crackling sounds
of the hoofs following each other in quick succession.

Want of food is sometimes a danger to the Elk ; but the ani-
mal is taught by instinct to clear away the snow, and to discover
the lichens on which it chiefly lives. The carnivorous animals,
however, are always fiercely hungry in the winter time, and gain
from necessity a factitious courage which they do not possess at
other times. As long, however, as the frost lasts, the Elk cares
little for such foes, as it can distance them if they chase it ever so
fiercely, or oppose them if by chance it should find itself in a
place where there is no retreat. They do not like to attack an
animal whose skin is so thick and tough that, when tanned, it
will resist an ordinary pistol-bullet, and which has, besides, an
awkward knack of striking with its fore feet like a skillful boxer,
knocking its foes over, and then pounding them with its hoofs
until they are dead.

But when the milder weather begins to set in, the Moose is in
constant danger. The warm sun falling on the snow produces a
rather curious effect. The frozen surface only partially melts,
and the water, mixing with the snow beneath, causes it to sink
away from the icy surface, leaving a considerable space between
them. The "crust," as the frozen surface is technically named,
is quite strong enough to bear the weight of comparatively small
animals, such as wolves, especially when they run swiftly over it ;
but it yields to the enormous weight of the Elk, which plunges to
its belly at every step.

The wolves have now the Elk at an advantage. They can
overtake it without the least difficulty ; and if they can bring it
to bay in the snow, its fate is sealed. They care little for the
branching horns, but leap boldly at the throat of the hampered
animal, whose terrible fore feet are now powerless, and, by dint
of numbers, soon worry it to death. Man, too, takes advantage

THE ELK-YARD. 631

of this state of the snow, equips himself with snow-shoes, and
skims over the slight and brittle crust with perfect security. An
Elk, therefore, whenever abroad in the snow, is liable to many
dangers, and, in order to avoid them, it makes the curious habita-
tion which is called the Elk-yard.

This winter home is very simple in construction, consisting of
a large space of ground on which the snow is trampled down by
continually treading it so as to form both a hard surface on which
the animal can walk, and a kind of fortress in which it can dwell
securely. The whole of the space is not trodden down to one
uniform level, but consists of a network of roads or passages
through which the animal can pass at ease. So confident is the
Elk in the security of the "yard," that it can scarcely ever be
induced to leave its snowy fortification and pass into the open
ground.

This habit renders it quite secure from the attacks of wolves,
which prowl about the outside of the yard, but dare not venture
within ; but, unfortunately for the Elk, the very means which
preserve it from one danger only lead it into another. If the
hunter can come upon one of these Elk-yards, he is sure of his
quarry ; for the animal will seldom leave the precincts of the
snowy inclosure, and the rifle-ball soon lays low the helpless vic-
tims.

The Elk is not the only animal that makes these curious forti-
fications, for a herd of Wapiti deer will frequently unite in form-
ing a common home.

One of these "yards" has been known to measure between
four and five miles in diameter, and to be a perfect network of
paths sunk in the snow. So deep, indeed, is the snow when un-
trodden, that when the deer traverse the paths, their backs can
not be seen above the level of the white surface. Although of
such giant size, the "yard" is not by any means a conspicuous
object, and at a distance of a quarter of a mile or so, a novice may
look directly at the spot without perceiving the numerous paths.
This curious fact can easily be understood by those of my readers
who have visited one of our modern fortifications, and have seen
the slopes of turf apparently unbroken, although filled with deep
trenches.

There are many other animals which form temporary habita-
tions in which they can remain concealed, because they are taught

632 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

by instinct how to make their domicile harmonize with the sur-
rounding objects.

One very familiar instance may be found in the common Hare,
whose " form" is large enough to shelter the owner, and yet is so
inconspicuous that the animal often lies undiscovered, though a
human being has passed within a couple of paces of its home.
The Hare is never at a loss for a home, and will often hide itself
very effectually in a tuft of grass that seems scarcely large enough
to conceal a rat. But it is by no means insensible of the value
of a denser cover, and seems to have a peculiar affection for a
thick, though small clump of furze.

Within a mile or two of my house there is a heath which is
partly studded with furze-bushes, and which is a very paradise
for various field animals. The field-mice have covered it with
their " runs," which are often so slightly below the surface that
if the finger be inserted in the entrance it can be pushed along
the whole length of the burrow, the only cover being a slight
layer of still living moss. As to the Hares, a " form" can be
found every few yards ; and if a little thick stubbly furze-bush
should be seen standing alone, it is nearly certain to be the home
of a Hare, which has made its warm soft couch within the mass
of needle-like prickles.

The Tiger has a very similar habit, and takes advantage of a
certain drooping shrub, called the Korinda, which is of low growth,
making its lair underneath the boughs, which afford at once a
shelter from the sun and a concealment from enemies.

We now pass to the Birds, the first of which is that remarkable
species called the Edible or Esculent Swallow {Collocalia ni-
dified). The popular name is given to it, not because itself is edi-
ble, but because its nest is eaten in some countries.

We have all heard of birds'-nest soup, and some of us may pos-
sibly have imagined that the nests in question are made of the
ordinary vegetable substances, such as moss, leaves, and twigs.
In reality, the nests are formed of some gelatinous substance,
though its true nature is still uncertain, no one precisely knowing
whether it is of animal or vegetable origin. Some persons have
thought that the material is fish-spawn, which the bird fetches
from the sea; others have supposed it to be a kind of sea- weed,
which is dissolved in the bird's crop and then disgorged ; while
others believe that it is secreted by certain glands in the throat,
and proceeds entirely from the body of the architect.

THE EDIBLE] SWALLOW

633

When first made, these nests are very white and delicate in
their aspect, and in that condition are extremely valuable, being
sold at an extravagant price to the Chinese. They soon darken
by use and exposure, and are not fit for the purposes of the table
until they have been cleaned and bleached.

These nests are found in Borneo, Java, etc., and are extremely
local, being confined to certain spots. The birds always choose
the sides of deep cavernous precipices, so that the task of obtain-
ing the nests is extremely dangerous. They are attached to the
perpendicular rocks much as the ordinary mud-built swallow-
nests, and are generally arranged in horizontal layers. The cav-
erns in which the nests are placed are extremely valuable, and
are preserved with jealous care from any intruder.

Edible Swallow.

One of these nests in my own collection is shaped much like
one of the halves of a bivalve shell, and is thick at the base where
it was attached to the rock, diminishing toward the extremity.
On the outside it has a very shelly appearance, being made in
regular layers, whose edges are as distinct as those of the oyster-
shell, but which have a double and not a single curve. In shape

634 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

it is somewhat oval, but the base is necessarily flat, on account of
its attachment to the rock.

The material is so translucent that, when placed on printed pa-
per and held to the light, the capital letters can be plainly read
through its substance. A glance at the interior shows at once
the mode of its construction. It is made of innumerable glutin-
ous threads, which have been drawn irregularly across each oth-
er, and have hardened by exposure to the air into a material
which much resembles isinglass. The natives say that the con-
struction of a single nest occupies a pair of birds for two full
months, so that there is some probability that the material may
really be secreted by the birds themselves.

The nests are only used for one purpose. They are steeped in
hot water for a considerable time, when they soften into a gelat-
inous mass, which forms the basis of a fashionable soup, and is
not unlike the green fat of the ordinary turtle. Indeed, those
who have partaken of birds'-nest soup say that, if it were seasoned
in a similar manner, it might easily be taken for turtle soup. The
Chinese value this soup highly, thinking that it possesses great
power of restoring lost strength. It is, however, far too costly to
be obtained by any but the rich, the best quality fetching rather
more than sixty shillings per pound.

The natives of Borneo have some curious traditions about these
birds. They reverence all kinds of birds, believing their ances-
tors to have been born from a native woman who married a spir-
it; but they have some singular legends respecting the Edible
Swallow. One of these wild legends has been kindly furnished
to me by C. T. C. Grant, Esq., formerly of the Sarawak Govern-
ment Service.

A DYAK LEGEND.
" It was many, many years ago that a Dyak of Semabang (in
Sadong) and his young son arrived, after a long journey through
the jungle, at a village called Si-Lebor. The village was exten-
sive, the Dyaks very numerous. On arriving, the chief of the
tribe placed food before the older visitor, but to his young son
they offered nothing. The little fellow, seeing this, and being
very hungry after his journey, felt much hurt, and began to cry.
'To my father,' said he, 'you have given food — the prtok of rice
is before him, the fatted pig has been killed — every thing you
have given him. Why do you give me nothing?' But the

EDIBLE SWALLOW. 635

child's appeal was useless. These strange Dyaks had hearts of
stone ; not a morsel was handed to the fatigued and hungry little
wayfarer ; so he wept on, and wept in' vain.

"After a while the boy looked more cheerful ; he had dried his
tears, and was now engaged in catching a dog and a cat. These
he put together on the mat, round which all the people were seat-
ed. The cat and the dog played, or more likely, as these animals
will do, fought together ; but, whatever it was, there was some-
thing so ludicrous in it all, while the boy sat over them and set
them at each other, that the whole assemblage burst into immod-
erate laughter. The boy, it would seem, was working some spell
— there was an object in what he had been doing. Perhaps he
was in communication with evil spirits, or^under their influence ;
there was something ominous about it, we know not what. But
to proceed: presently the sky became overcast, and gradually
great volumes of black clouds came sailing up, propelled by sud-
den gusts of wind. One by one they rolled along, and were
heaped up one on top of another, or got all broken up, as it were,
in their collision. The sky appeared one mass of confusion, look-
ing blacker and more angry as the sun gradually disappeared in
the darkness. At last the storm burst forth with a fury never
known before ; sharp flashes of lightning, followed by awful peals
of thunder, succeeded one another, fast and furious; the very
ground below shook as the palm-leaf quivered in the breeze : it
seemed as if the great end of all things was at hand.

"Now commenced a gradual but awful change. Amid the
rolling thunder and the dazzling lightning, which only served to
make the awful darkness visible, the village, the houses, all be-
gan to dissolve, to melt away, as it were, into burning lava, and,
with his works, man perishing likewise. There you might see
the gray-headed chief starting up, with his grandson in his arms,
but, ere reaching the door, being gradually hardened into stone.
There mothers would be seen flying with their little ones, to es-
cape the same dreadful fate, but all in vain. There a young and
helpless maiden would be clinging to her brave warrior, to that
arm which had always been the first to help her, which could
surely save her now. Alas ! that cruel transformation ! The
living light in those bright eyes is gone, the tender grasp of that
warm hand is cold ; from flesh and blood they too pass away into
senseless petrifactions ; while, mingling with the shrieks, and yells,
and invocations of the men and the Borlch, would still be heard

636 HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

the boom of the thunder and the crackling of the houses. Not a
man, woman, or child — no, nor even visitor — at that fatal village,
save only the neglected boy, was left alive to mourn the loss of
his all. One after another they all melted, and were changed,
when the heat of the storm was over, into solid rock. Houses,
and all in them, succumbed beneath the fiery elements; and
when the storm ceased, all lay, not a heap of charred ruins, but
huge masses of smoking stone.

"A hill with precipices now marks the spot where this tragedy
occurred; on the hill (itself the transformed village) are still
pointed out, if people speak truth, the traces of the petrified houses.
An upright rock is shown as the transformed figure of a Malay,
an unhappy visitor on that awful day. There he stands with his
hand still fixed on his sword-hilt, once a living soul, now a life-
less stone. The whole scene, indeed, is a standing monument at
once of the crime of inhospitality and its fearful punishment.
Gazing on his revenge, the youth retreated. He returned to his
native village, Semabang ; and time flew on, and ere he died he
was the chief of his tribe, the gray-headed patriarch appealed to
by the new and rising generation. Years, hundreds of years
rolled away, fathers and mothers passed off the stage, and young-
children grew up to take their places, to attain manhood, to work,
to become old, to die too ; and so time went on, and children
danced and played over the same ground that their ancestors had
danced and played on for centuries before.

"At last, no great time ago, the tribe of Semabang having flour-
ished, become populous and rich, a young chief, the lineal de-
scendant of the little hungry boy, dreamed that great riches were
in store for him and his tribe if they went to Mount Si-Lebor, the
petrified village. The next day a party was organized, and they
went there and searched. They at last discovered a magnificent
cave. With lighted torches they entered, and found it to be very
extensive, and full of the celebrated edible birds'-nests. ' Ah !'
said they, ' this is our portion, instead of that which was denied to
our ancestor ; his due was refused then, it has now been given to
us, his descendants ; this is our ' balas1 (revenge). Thousands and
thousands of birds'-nests they brought out of the cave, which re-
alized many reals to the discoverers. The Si-Lebor caves are now
said to be the richest, and the tribes possessing them (the Sema-
bang youth's descendants) the wealthiest and most prosperous in
Sadonef."

THE EAGLE. 637

There are at least four species of swallow that make these curi-
ous nests, and the natives say that the entrance to the caves is al-
ways occupied by another kind of swallow, which makes a nest
of mixed moss and gelatine, and which fights the valuable birds
and drives them away. They therefore always attack the intrud-
ers, and endeavor to knock down their nests with stones. The
nests are very small and shallow, and seem scarcely capable of ac-
commodating either eggs or young birds. My own specimen is
exactly two inches in length, one inch and three quarters in
breadth at its widest point, and scarcely more than half an inch
deep. Its internal shape is exactly that of a spoon-bowl, one
third of which has been cut off abruptly near the handle.

None of the purely predaceous birds are remarkable for their
skill in architecture, and the Eagle (Aquila chrysaetos) is no ex-
ception to the general rule. The nest of this magnificent bird is
nothing more than a huge mass of sticks flung at random on some
rocky ledge, and having a shallow depression in which the young
can lie. In general shape, or rather in shapelessness, it is not un-
like the nest of the osprey, which has already been described, and
it is so rudely put together that the sticks seem to afford even a
less commodious bed than the bare rock.

The portion that is occupied by the young is comparatively
small, and the general platform of the nest serves as a sort of lard-
er, on which are deposited the birds, hares, lambs, and other ani-
mals which the parents have killed and brought home. Some-
times the nest will be amply supplied with food, but sometimes
the parent birds are obliged to hunt daily. Young eagles are vo-
racious beings, and if there be no sheep-flocks within reach, the
task of supplying them with food is a very heavy one, especially
when they have nearly attained maturity. In feeding its young
for the first few weeks of their life, the eagle tears the prey into
little pieces, and impartially distributes the bleeding morsels to
the gaping and screaming offspring. Afterward, however, when
the young eagles have gained a stout beak, the prey is merely
dropped near them, and they tear it to pieces for themselves.

Generally the nest of the Eagle is placed in some inaccessible
spot, and the bird seems never to be so pleased as when it can
find a rocky ledge situated about half way down a precipice, and
sheltered from above by a large projecting piece of rock. This
projection answers two purposes. It prevents the nest from be-

638

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

ing seen from above, and also guards it from being harried by
persons let down by ropes. To take an Eagle's nest is always a
task of extreme difficulty, and one which tries to the utmost the
nerves and endurance of the climber. It also makes considerable

The Eagle.

demands on his courage ; for, if the parent birds should discover
the intruder, they are sure to attack him, and may very probably
dash him to the ground.

Should the bold cragsman succeed in reaching the nest, he does
not find it a very pleasant locality. The nostrils of the Eagle are
very useful for the purpose of respiration, but the bird has appar-
ently little or no olfactory sensibilities. The stench that arises
from an inhabited Eagle's nest is quite beyond the power of de-
scription, for the young Eagles themselves are not the sweetest
beings in the world, and their evil odor is supplemented by that

THE NODDY.

639

which arises from the refuse food that is suffered to putrefy in the
very nest.

There are very many sea-birds which hatch their young on
the shelves of precipitous rocks, and of them I have chosen for
an example the bird which is called the Noddy {Anous stolidus).
It is a species of Tern, and has long been celebrated among sailors
for the ease with which it can be captured, especially if the day-
light has departed.

The Noddy.

The Noddy mostly chooses for its nesting - place some lofty
precipice, and generally lays its eggs upon a shelf of the rock.
Sometimes, but rarely, it takes a fancy to some low and thick
bush, and in any case is but an indifferent architect. Often the
nest is nothing more than a heap of sea- weed, on the top of which
is excavated a very slight hollow ; and in no case does the bird
seem to exercise any skill in the disposition of materials. As it
returns year after year to the same spot, and never clears away
the old nest, it manages in time to accumulate a heap of sea-weed
that is sometimes more than two feet in thickness, and of consid-

640

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

erable width. The bird is gregarious in its nesting, the rocky
ledges being crowded with the rude nests, and the odor that pro-
ceeds from them being absolutely intolerable to human nostrils.
The eggs are rather pretty, being of an orange color, spotted and
splashed with red and purple of different shades.

It is rare in England, but there are many British birds that
build in a similar manner, such as the Solan goose, or gannet, the
cormorant, the guillemot, and various gulls.

The nest of the Nightingale (Luscinia Philomela) could hard-
ly be classed in any of the preceding groups, and therefore takes
its place among the miscellaneous habitations.

The Nightingale.

It is not built in the branches, nor in a hole, nor suspended
from a bough, nor absolutely on the ground. It is always set
very near the ground, and in most cases it is scarcely raised more

5*a8|p

fWW^^Sj^

**W

THE ALBATROSS.

THE WANDERING ALBATROSS. 643

than a few inches above the soil. In one sense it is not a pretty
nest. It is certainly not a neat one, and its apparent roughness
of construction is probably intended to make it less conspicuous.
The discovery of a Nightingale's nest is not an easy task, unless
the eye be directed to the spot by watching the movements of the
bird. It is always most carefully hidden under growing foliage,
and so well is it concealed that, even in places where Nightingales
abound, the detection of a nest is always welcome to the egg-
hunter.

The materials of the nest are equally calculated for conceal-
ment, consisting of straw, grass, little sticks, and dried leaves, all
being jumbled together with such "artless art," that even when a
nest is seen its real nature often escapes the discoverer. If the
same materials were seen in a branch at any height from the
ground they would at once attract attention, but in the position
which they occupy they look like a mass of loose debris that has
been blown by the wind and arrested by the foliage among which
it has lodged.

The eggs are equally inconspicuous, being dull olive - brown,
without a spot or streak. After they are laid, the lively song of
the Nightingale becomes less and less frequent, while after the
young are hatched the bird is silent until the next season. The
Nightingale is as anxious to conceal itself as its nest, and never
intentionally shows its brown plumage, though it will sing within
six feet of a listener who will remain quiet. In the spring the
bird seems as if it must sing, no matter who may be near, and its
spirit of rivalry is so great that the "jug-jug" of one Nightingale
is sure to set singing all the others within hearing.

The Wandering Albatross (Diomedea exulans), the giant of
the petrel tribe, makes its nest after a peculiar fashion.

It chooses the summit of lofty precipices near the sea, and its
nest may be found most plentifully in Tristan d'Acunha and the
Marion Islands. The Albatross is lord of the country, and no
other living being seems to intrude upon its nesting-place. So
completely do the birds feel themselves masters of the situation,
that if a human being penetrates to their haunts, they quietly
move about as if he were non-existent, and do not appear to take
the least notice of him. On such elevated positions the cold is
necessarily intense, but the Albatross cares not for the cold, and
brings up its white-coated young in a temperature that few human
beings like to endure longer than needful.

G^4

HOMES WITHOUT HANDS.

No particular bed seems necessary for the egg, for the mother
bird simply deposits it on the bare ground, and then scrapes earth
round it so as to form a small circular wall, as may be seen by
reference to the illustration. If their nest be approached very
closely, the alarmed parents snap their bills like angry owls ; and
if they wish to be aggressive, they discharge from their bills a
quantity of oil ; but they seem to have no ideas of actual fight.
The Albatross lays only one egg.

Our last sample of "Homes without Hands" is the ingenious
structure that is made by the Coot {Fulica atra), the Bald Coot

The Coot.

as it is sometimes called, on account of the horny plate on the
forehead, which is pink during the breeding season, and white
during the rest of the year. Although the general color of the

THE COOT. 645

Coot is black, it is a pretty bird when in the water, and if the day
be calm, the reflection on the surface has a very curious effect,
the white patch appearing as if it rose to the surface of the water
every time that the bird nods its head in the act of swimming.

The favorite nesting -places of the Coot are little islands on
which the grass grows rankly. Failing them, it will make its nest
among reeds and rushes, binding and twisting them together until
they are firm enough to support the weight of the nest, the bird,
and the many eggs. Should it not find either of these localities,
it will build on the edge of the water, and almost invariably con-
trives to make its nest in such a manner that it can not be reached
from the land. The quantity of reeds, bulrushes, sedges, grass,
and other materials used in the nest is very surprising ; and yet.
in spite of its large dimensions, it is not a conspicuous object.
The nest contains a great number of eggs, seldom less than seven,
and sometimes twelve or fourteen. They are whitish, and pro-
fusely spotted with irregular brown marks.

In the illustration the haunts of the Coot are well represented.
In the foreground is seen one of the grass tussocks, of which a
pair of Coots have taken possession, and in which the young are
seen under the protection of their parents. Similar tussocks pro-
trude from the shallow water, and from one of them the mother
Coot is issuing, followed by her young brood. In the background
are seen a pair of swans, one of which is bearing her young on her
back, according to the custom of her kind.

As is the case with many of the illustrations to this work, the
sketch was taken from nature.

INDEX.

Aard Vark, 64.
Abi$]M, 275.
Abnormal Astrasa, 413.
Acanthiza, 237.

Yellow-tailed, 237.
Accentor, 5S0.

Hedge, 5S0.
Accipiter, 492.
Achcta, ISO.
Acrocinus, 195.
Acronvcta, 311.
Mgcria, 210, 211.
JZgcriadce, 210.
^Egithalus, 233.
JEpiprnis, 489.
Aerial Builders, 538.
Agelena, 322, 370.
Agricultural Ant, 390.
Ailanthua Silkworm, 301.
Albatross, C43.
Albert Lyre Bird, 353.
Alcedo, 77.
Alces, 627.
Allotria, 520.
Amazon Ant, 4S0.
Amphitrite, 429, 430.

Funnel, 430.

Silkworm, 429.
.Amputo, 151.
Anana, Astrsea, 413.
Andrena, 150.
Anomma, 409.
4 no?(s, 639.
Ant, Agricultural, 390.

Amazon, 4S0.

Blind, 389.

Brown, 145.

Driver, 409.

Dusky, 144.
Ant-eater, Porcupine, 72.
Ants, Foraging, 3S3.

Fungus, 624.

Green, 273.

Indian, 167.

Lion, 1S3.

Parasol, 142.

White, 621.

Yellow, 149.
Anthidium, 199.
A nthrocera, 306.
Apoica, 000, 601.
Apple, Dead Sea, 515.
A qui la, 637.
Arctict, 304.
Arctomijn, 51.
Ardea, 542.
Argyrometra, 398.
Argyromiges, 312, 317
Armadillo, 62.
Arm'cola, 614.
Asperaillum, 124.
Astrce.t, 412, 413.

Abnormal, 413.

Anana, 413.

Chocolate, 413.

Green, 412.

A temeles, 16S.
Athene, 43.
Atlas Moth, 299.
Atta, 390.
Attacus, 301.
.1 typus, 130.
Azure (Jcereba, 25S.

B.

Badger, 3S.
Bajjerkeit, 04.
Bald-headed Eagle, 550.
Baltimore Oriole, 259.
Bandicoot, Rabbit-eared, 325.
Bar-tailed Humming-bird, 254.
Bathyergus, 54.
Batikin, 490.
Baya Sparrow, 26S.
Bear, Brown, 58.

Polar, 55.

White, 54.

Woolly, 304.
Beaver, 431.
Beccafico, 552.
Bedeguar, 506.
Bee, Carder, 4S4.

Carpenter, 203.

Hive, 445.

Humble, 154.

Lapidary, 157.

Rose-cutter, 195.

Willow, 195.
Bee-eater, 83.
Beetle, Burrowing, 195.

Harlequin, It; 5.

Musk, 193.

Wasp, 192.
Bembex, 167.
Bettong, Brush-tailed, 323.

Penciled, 323.
Bettongia, 323.
Bicellaria, 612.
Bird, Bower, 356.

Cataract, 236.

Hurnmimr, 572.

Indigo, 567.

Lyre, 355.

Mocking, 560.

of Washington, 550.

Oven, 327.

Tailor, 231.
Birds, Burrowing, 74, 344.

Pensile, 219.

Social, 438.
Biraus, 107.
Blackbird, 331.
Blind Ant, 3S9.

Blue-eyed Yellow Warbler, 549.
Blue-faced Honey-eater, 480.
Blue Linnet, 567.
Bob-o'-link, 261.
Bombax, 623.
Bombus, 485.
Bombycidce, 310.
Bombyx, 591.
Bower Bird, 356

Spotted, 359.

Branch-building Mammalia, 531.

Birds, 538.

Insects and Spiders, 5S2.
Brazilian Wood Nymph, 257.
Breeze Fly, 528.

Clear- wing, 210.
Brown-tailed Moth, 311, 467,594.
Brush-tailed Bettong, 323.
Brush Turkey, 338.
Builders, 323.
Building Birds, 327.

Insects, 360.
Bullen-bullen, 355.
Bullfinch, 548.
Burnet Ichneumon, 2S9, 290.

Moth, 306.
Burrowing Animals, 19.

Birds, 74, 344.

Crustacea, 104.

Insects, 140.

Mollusks, 114.

Spiders, 12S.
Burying Beetle, 171.
Bitskia, 612.
Butterfly, Peacock, 467.

Small Tortoise-shell, 467.

C.

Caa'cus, 263.
Caddis Flies, 401.

Shrimp, 431.
Calandra, 191.
Callichthys, 394.
Calosoma, 590.
Camas Rat, 53.
Campagnol, 614.
Campanular Wasp, 279.
Capoc-bosche, 56S.
Capocier, 568.
Carder Bees, 484.
Carpenter Bee, 203.
Castor, 431.
Cataract Bird, 236.
Calenicclla, 012.
Celery Fly, 317.
Cell of Termite Queen, 622.
Cerambyx, 193.
Cerapus, 431.
Cerceris, 153.
Cercopithecus, 228.
Certhia, 96.
Crrura, 499.
Chaffinch, 544.
CharterguBi 279.
Chat, Yellow-breasted, 556.

Yellow -throated, 557.
Chclidon, 334.
Clielura, 112.

Chicken, Mother Carey's, 87.
Chigoe, 526.
Childbothru8, 103.
Chimborazian Hill Star, 254.
Chimney Swallow, 338.
Chipmuck, 50.
Chipping Squirrel, 50.
Chhtmydera, 359.
Chlamyphorux, 5S.

648

INDEX.

Chocolate Astrrea, 413.
Chceropus, 325.
Chrysalides, 500.
Chrysanthemum Fly, 520.
Chnisolampis, 257.
Cicindela, 169.
Cionis Weevil, 29T.
Cluvagella, 124.
Clavellaria, 408, 411.

Green, 408.

Violet, 411.
Clear-wing Moth, 210.
Cleonus, 521.
Clerus, 529.
Clisiocampa, 592.
Clothes Moth, 624.
Clytus,192.
Cnecthocampa, 5S9.
Cocci/pus, 4S8.
Coercba, 258.
Cole Titmouse, 98.
Collocalia, 632.
Columba, S3, 558.
Comctes, 254.
Coot, 644.
Coral, Red, 40S.

Red Organ-pipe, 413.

White, 40S.
Corals, 406.
Corvus, 82, 541.
Corypliodon, 561.
Cossus, 206.
Cotile, 74.
Coushie Ant, 142.
Cow-bird, 4S8.
Crab, lighting, 106.

Land, 104.

Racer, 107.

Robber, 107.

Spiders, 137.
Cramer's Pigmy, 317.
Creeper, 96.
Crematogaster, 270.
Crested Cassique, 263.
Cricket, Field, 180.

Mole, 178.
Crimson Topaz, 571.
Crista, 612.
Crow, 541.

Blackbird, 493.
Crustacea, Burrowing, 104.
Cryptug, 293.
Cteniza, 137.
Cuckoo Flies, 500.
Cvpulnrin, 612.
Currant Galls, 510.
Curruca. 560.
Cymogpira, 420.
Camps, 502, 506, 510, 511.

515, 519, 596.
Cypselus, 100.

D.

Dagger Moth, 317.
Date Shell, 121.
Dauber Wasp, 374.
Dead Sea App!e, 515.
Dicceum, 244.

Swallow, 244.
Diomedea, 043.
Diurnea, 317.
Dolomedes, 012.
Dor Beetle, 172.
Dormouse, 531.
Drinker Moth, 307.
DrilU8, 630.
Driver Ant, 409.
Drymoica, 508.
Duckbill, 60.

E.

Eagle, 037.

Bald-headed, 550.
Earth Fly, 520.
Echidna, 72.
Eciton, 3S3-3S9.
Elephant Shrew, 32.
Elk, 027.

Emerald - throated Humming-
bird, 574.
I'mmet-eater, 93.
Emperor Moth, 298.
Enneoctonus, 577.
Entomophila, 241.
Entomyza, 490.
Eprira, 318.
Ephemera, 140.
Erioyaster, 309.
Eueera, 150.
Eucheira, .403.
Eumenes, 370.
Euplectes, 22S.
Eupomatvts, 419.

Faiey Martin, 332.

Falco, 550.

Fan Amphitrite, 429.

Fan-tailed Warbler, 233.

Fareiminaria, 612.

Feathered Branch-builders, 538.

Fiber Zibethicus, 325.

Field-mouse, Long-tailed, 617.

Short-tailed, 614.
Field Vole, 614.
Fiery Topaz, 571.
Fifteen-spined Stickleback, 392.
Fighting Crab, 106.
Fiyites, 520.
Firebird, 259.
Firetails, 500.
Fishes, 392.
Flask Shell, 124.
Flies, Caddis, 401.

Cuckoo, 500.

Gall, 501.

Ruby-tailed, 500.
Fhistra, 611,012.
Fly, Breeze, 528.

Celery, 317.

Chrysanthemum, 5^0.

Earth, 526.

Thistle-gall, 522.
Fly- catchers, 265.

Great-crested, 265.

Red-eyed, 206.

White-eyed, 266.
Foraging Ants, 3S3.
Formica, 144, 272, 273, 274, 480.
Fox, 33.

Arctic, 33.
Fratercula, 80.
Frinyilhi, 540.
Fuh'ca, 644.
Fungus Ant, 623, 024.
Funnel Amphitrite, 4'10.
Furnarius, 327.

Gall Flies, 501.
Galleria, 212.
GalKntda, 561.

Gaper Shell, 117.
Garden Spider, 318.
Gasterosteus, 392, 3^4.
Oastrochmna, 124
Gastropach'i, 307.
G'carcinu-; 104.

Gelasimvs, 106.
Geometric Spider, 31S.
Geotrupex, 172.
Gipsy Moth, 591.
Gnat, Clear-wing, 211.
Goat Moth, 206, 499.
Gold-capped Weaver Bird, 111.
Gold-tailed Moth, 400.
Golden-crested Wren, '.44.

Oriole, 552.

Robin, 259.
Goldfinch, 540.
Goliath Beetle, 177.
Gopher, 52.
Gracillaria, 525, 520.
Grakle, Purple, 493.
Grallina, Pied, 329.
Gray-throated Hermit, 251.
Great-crested Fly-catcher, 2C5.

Gray Shrike, 577.
Green Ant, 273.

Astraea, 412, 413.

Clavellaria, 408, 411.
Gribble, 112.
Grosbeak, Sociable, 438.
Ground-hog, 52.
GryUotalpa, 178.
Gryptte, 256.
Gwas-y-gog, 93.

II.

Hackee, 50.
LTadaus, 160.
Hanging Bird, 259.
Hang-nest, 259.
Hardback, 394
Hare, 632.

Harlequin Beetle, 195.
Harvest-mouse, 213.
Hassar, 394.
Haychat, 500.
Hedge Accentor, 580.

Sparrow, 580.
Helix, 114.
Hen, Moor, 561.

Water, 501.
Hermit, Gray-throated, 251.

Little, 250.

Pigmy, 252.
Heron, 542.
Hill Star, Chimborazian, 251.

Piehinchian, 250.

White-sided, 254.
Hirundo, 332, 337.
Hive-bee, 445
Honeycomb Moth, 212.
Honey-eater, Blue-faced, 4?0.

Lunulated, 240.

Painted, 241.

Singing, 239.

White-throated, 243.
Hoopoe, 97.
Hoop-shaver, 199.
Hornbill, 344.
Hornet, 457.
House Martin, 334.
House-builder Moth, 301.
House Wren, 353.
Humming-birds, 249, 573

Emerald-throated, 574.

Long-tailed, 252.

Ruby-throated, 573.

Ruby and Topaz, 2C7.

Sawbill, 250. •

Vervain, 570.
Humble-bee, 154.
Hydrachna, 401.

liiilfrvs, 197.
Hylocharis, 252.
Hypera, Weevil, 297.
Ilyphantornits, 22:'.

INDEX.

049

Icaria, 6S6, 694
Ichneumon, Bumet, 2S9, 290.
I-tiriii, 550.
Icterus, 555.
Indigo Bird, 5GT.
Insects, Building, SCO.

Burrowing, 140.

Social, 442.

Wood-boring, 1S6.
Invertebrates, 3'J7.

J.
Jackdaw, S2.
Jerboa Kangaroo, 323.
Jigger, 526.

K.

Kangaroo, Jerboa, 323.
Kestrel, 492.
Kingfisher, 77.
Korwe, 344.

L.

Lackey Moth, 593.

Lamia, 192.

Lanceolate Honey-eater, 246.

Land Crab, 104.

Lanius, 577.

Lapidary Bee, 157.

Lasiocampa, 499.

Lazotcenia, 314.

Leaf-rollers, 312.

Leipoa, 343.

Lepralia, 612.

Leptis, 44.

Lerot, 535.

Lilac Moth, 314.

Limpet, US.

JAmnoria, 112.

Linnet, Blue, 567.

Litkodomus, 121.

Little Egger Moth, 309.

Hermit, 250.
Locusts, 1S1.
Loire, 535.
Longwornes, 192.
Long-tailed Eield-mou=e, 017,

Humming-bird, 252.

Titmouse, 346.
Lunulated Honey-eater, 241.
Luscinia, 640
Li/cosa, 133, 614.
Lyre Bird, 355.

Albert's, 355.

M.

Macroscdides, 32.
Magpie, 350.

Mahali Weaver Bird, 224.
Mallangong, 67.
Malurus, 246.
Mammalia :

Building, 323.

Burrowing, 19.

Pensile, 213.

Social, 431.
Mania, 64.
Martin, Fairv, 332.

II .use, 334.

Sand, 74.
May-fly, 140.
Meal-worms, 190. 101.
Megachile, 105.
Melasis, 100.
Melipon /, 373.
Melithrep'e , 2-10.
MeJlinus, ir> '.
Mellisug r, 576.

ttenura, 355.
Merops, S3.
Miarogaster, 2S0, 406.
Micro-lepidoptera, 524.
Micromys, 213.
Microsetia, 317.
Mimus-, 560.
Misehoeyttarus, 5S8.
Mocking-bird, 560.
Mole, 21.

Cricket, 178.

Rat, 54.

Water, 67.
Molluaks, Burrowing, 114.
Monedula, 166.
Moor Hen, 561.
Moose, 6j7.
Moth, Atlas, 299.

Brown-tailed, 311, 467, 594.

Burnet, 306.

Clear-wing, 210.

Clothes, 624.

Dagger, 317.

Drinker, 307.

Emperor, 298.

Gipsy, 591.

Goat, 206.

Gold-tailed, 466.

Honey-comb, 212.

House-builder, 301.

Lackey, 593.

Lilac, 314.

Little Kgger, 309.

Oak, 313.

Oak-egger, 410.

Processionary, 5S9.

Puss, 499.

Small Ermine, 311, 464.

Spurge, 311.

Tiger, 304.

Wood-leopard, 200.

Wolf, 211.
Motuca, 166.
Mouse, Common, 61S.

Harvest, 213.

Wood, 617.
Mud Wasp, 473, 479.
Mulo, 52.
Mus, 017, 61S.
ituscardinus, 531.
Muscimpi, 266.
Musk Beetle, 193.

Rat, 33, 325.
Musquash, 325.
Mutton Bird, 82.
Mya, 117.

Mvcetophaqw*, 190.
Mygale, 132.
Myogalc ', 33.
Myoxus, 535.
Myrapetra, 2S2.
Myrmoleon, 1*3.
Myrmiea, 149, 270, 46S, 4S2.

Native Pheasant, 343.
Neeiarinia, 287.
Xrpt.:c>>ia, 524.
Nests, Sub-aquntic, 302.
Nettle-creeper, 56i'.
Nightingale, 640.
Noddy, 639.
Norwegian Wasp, 271.
Nut-hatch, 06.

O.

0\K-F.OC,ER Motu, 307, 419.
Oak Moth. 3 '3.
Odonestis, 307.

(Ecodoma, 142.
(Ecophylla, 273.
(Estrus, 528
Uiketicus, 301.
Ondatra, 325.
Ophion, 499.
( >rchard Oriole, 2G1.
OreotrochUitSi 254.
or, ryia, 303.
Orihma, 236.
Oriole, Baltimore, 25^.

Crested, 263.

Golden, 552.

Orchard, 261.
Oriolus, 552.
Ornithorhynchus, 07.
Orthotonus, 231
Orycteroju*, 64.
Oryctes, 151.
Osmia, 197.
Oven Bird, 327.
Owl, Burrowing, 43.

Coquimbo, 43.
Oxybelus, 153.

P.

Painted Honey-eatce, 241.
Palm Swift, 229.
Pandion, 493.
Paniscus, 500.
Parasitic Nests, 4S7.
Parus, 97, 346.
Parser, 495.
Pasteboard Wasp, 279.
Peacock Butterfly, 467.
Pelopceus, 205, 372.
Penciled Bettong, 323.
Penduline Titmouse, 233.
Pensile Birds, 219.

Insects, 269.

Mammalia, 213.
Perametes, 325.
Petrel, Stormy, 85.
Phdethornis, 250,252.
Pheasant, Native, 343.
Philanthus,153.
Pltiletcerus, 438.
Pholas, 118.
Phytomyza, 526.
Pica, 350.
Pichiciago, 5S.
Pichinchian Hill Star, 256.
Piddock, US.
Pied Grallina, 329.
Pigmv, Cramer's, 317.

Hermit, 252.

Red-headed, 317.
Pinc-Pinc, 233.
Pine-creeping Warbler, 267.
Pirate Spider, 614.
Placostegus. 420.
Platypus, 67.
Plectorhynchus, 246.
Pliopasser, 224.
Plneciis, 223, 225, 229.
Polar Bear, 55.
Pollers, 2*0, 2(14, 4*3. 5 7.
Politician, 266.
Polnbia, 443.
Polyergus, 4S0.
Polyrotr, 611.
Pomatorhimis, 401.
Pomato8ter/iix, 421.
PompHus, 151
Porcupine Ant-eater, 72.
Porth'Xia, 46, 311, 467, 512.
Potter, 425.
Touched Rat, 52.
Prairie Dog, 30.

Warbler, 267.

650

INDEX.

Priodonta, 63.
Processionary Moth, 5S9.
Pseudostoma, 52.
Psyche, 304.
Ptilonorlamchus, 356.
Ptilotws, 239.
Puffin, 80.
Pulex, 526.
Purple Grakle, 493.
Puss Moth, 499.
Pyrrhula, 54S.

Quiscalus, 493.

R.

Eabbit, 44

Rabbit-eared Bandicoot, 325.

Racer Crab, 107.

Raft Spider, 012, 613.

Raviphastos, 98.

Raphigaster, 588.

Rat, Camas, 53.

Mole, 54.

Pouched, 52.
Razor Shell, 123.
Red-backed Shrike, 577.

Coral, 408.

Organ-pipe Coral, 413.
Red-billed Weaver, 220.
Red-eyed Fly-catcher, 266.
Red-headed Pigmy, 317.
Red-winged Starling, 555.
Reed Warbler, 565.
Regulus, 244.
Reptiles, Burrowing, 102.
Republican Swallow, 333.
Rhagium, 195.
Rhipidura, 247.
Ringdove, 558.
Robber Crab, 107.
Rock Warbler, 236.
Rose-cutter Bee, 195.
Ruby and Topaz Humming

bird, 257.
Ruby-tailed Flies, 500.
Ruby - throated Humming - bird

573.
Rufous-bellied Swallow, 333.
Rufous-necked Swallow, 333.

S.

Sabella, 426, 427, 42S.

Straight, 428.

Trumpet, 427.
Sacrifice and Self-sacrifice, 40.
Salicaria, 564.
Sand Martin, 74.

Mole, 54.
Snpterda, 205.
Sappho Comet, 254.
Satumia, 298.
Sauba, 142.

Sawbill Humming-bird, 256.
Saxicavrt, 122.
Scarabceu8, 175.
Scolia, 151.
Scolytus, 1S7.
Scorpion, 128.
Sea Mat, 611.
Sedge Warbler, 504.
Sericornis, 234.
Serpirfa, 410.
Sheldrake, 83.
Shell-hinder, 422.
Ship- worm, 1-4.
Short-tailed Field-mouse, G14.
Shrew Mole, 32.

Shrike, Great Gray, 577.

Red-backed, 577.
Shrimp, Caddis, 431.

Wood-boring, 112.
Siffleur, 52.
Silene, 549.
Silkworm, Ailanthus, 301.

Amphitrite, 429.
Singing Honey-eater, 239.
Sirex, 199.
Sitta, 96.
Slepez, 54.
Small Ermine Moth, 311,

465.
Snail, Boring, 115.
Snake, Yellow, 103.
Social Birds, 438.

Grosbeak, 438.

Insects, 442.

Mammalia, 528.

Weaver Bird, 438.
Solen, 123.
Song Thrush, 331.
Spalax, 54.
Spangle Galls, 511.
Sparrow, 495.

Hedge, 5S0.
Sparrow-hawk, 492.
Spermophilus, 39.
Sphegidfp, 205.
Sphex, 152, 596.
Spiders, 582.

Burrowing, 128.

Garden, 31S.

Geometric, 318.

Pirate, 614.

Raft, 612.

Tufted, 5S4.

Water, 39S, 399.
Spirorbis, 421.
Spiza, 567.
Spotted-backed Bower Bird,

Weaver Bird, 223.
Spurge Moth, 311.
Squirrel, Chipping, 50.
Starling, 94, 492.

Red-winged, 555.
Sticklebacks, 392.

Fifteen-spined, 392.
Stockdove, S3.
Straight Sabella, 428.
Sturmts, 94,492.
Sub-aquatic Nests, 392.
Swallow, 337.

Chimney, 33S.

Dieasum, 244.

Edible, 632.

Republican, 333.

Rufous-bellied, 333.

Rufous-necked, 333.
Swift, 100.

Palm, 229.
Sylvia, 267, 549.
Sy7iceca, 459.
Syringa, 413.

T.

Tachince, 500.
Tachornis, 229.
Taha Weaver, 22S.
Tailor Bird, 231.
Tallegalla, 33S.
Tamias, 50.
Tarantnl", 133.
Tatua, 275.
Taiwca, 383.
Tenebrin, 191.
Tephritis, 317, 520.
Tercbella, 422, 425, 426.
Weaver, 426.

401,

359

Teredo, 124.
Termes, 370.
Termites, 360, 621.
Testudo, 102.
Textor, 22U-229.
Thalarctos, 54.
Thalassidromn, S5.
Thalurania, 257.
Thistle-gall Fly, 522.
Thrush, Song, 331.
Tiger Beetle, 169.

Moth, 304.
Tinea, 211, 024.
Tinnunculns, 492.
Titmouse, Cole, 97.

Long-tailed, 346.

Penduline, 233.
Tockus, 344.
Toddy Bird, 268.
Topaza, 571.
Topaz, Crimson, 571.

Fiery, 571.
Tortoise, 102.

Tortoise-shell Butterfly, 467.
Tortrix, 313.
Toucan, 98.
Trap-door Spider, 133.
Tree Lackey, 593.

Wasp, 277.
Tree-caddis, 607.
Trichoptera, 401.
Trigona, 289.
Trochilus, 252, 573.
Troglodytes, 351.
Trumpet Sabella, 427.
Trypoxylon, 274, 371.
Tubicolous annelids, 414
Tuchuto, 191.
Tufted Spider, 5S4
Tubipora, 413.
Turdus, 331.
Turkey, Brush, 338.
Turtledove, 559.

V.

Upupa, 97.

Urophora, 522.

Vanessa, 467.

Vervain Humming-bird, 576.

Vespa, 276, 379, 457.

Violet Clavellaria, 411.

Vireo, 557.

Vole, Field, 614.

W.

Warbler, Fan-tailed, 233.

Pine-creeping, 267.

Prairie, 267.

Reed, 505.

Rock, 236.

Sedge, 564.
Wart-bitter, ISO.
Washington, Bird of, 550.
Wasp, 158.

Beetle, 192.

Campanular, 279.

Common, 276, 379.

Dauber, 374.

Mud, 478, 479.

Norwegian, 277.

Pasteboard, 279.

Tree, 277.
Water Hen, 561.

Mole, 67.

Spider, 398.
Watering-pot Shell, 124.

INDEX.

651

Weasels, 38.

Weaver, Gold-capped, 227.

Mahali, 224.

Red-billed. 220.

Sociable, 43S.

Spotted-backed, 223.

Taha, 22S.

Terebella, 426.

Yellow-crowned, 223.
Weelah, 341.
Weevil Cionis, 297.

Hypera, 297.
Weevils, 192.
Whip-Tom-Kelly, 266.
White Ant, 3G0, 621.

Coral, 408.
White-eyed Fly-catcher, 266.
White-shafted Fantail, 247.
White-sided Hill Star, 254.
White-throat, 560.
White-throated Honey-eater,243.

Willow Bee, 195.
Wish-ton-Wish, 40.
Wolf Moth, 211.

Spider, 133.
Woodchuck, 51.
Wood-leopard Moth, 209.

Mouse, 617.
Woodpeckers, 88.
Woolly Bear, 304.
Wren, 351.

Golden-crested, 244.

House, 353.
Wry-neck, 93.

X.

Xanthornis, 2G1.
Xenia, 411.
Xylocopa, 203.
Xyhpliaga, 123.

Y.

Yellow Snake, 103.

Warbler, Blue-eved, 549.
Yellow-breasted Chat, 556.
Yellow - crowned Weaver Bird
223. '

Yellow-tailed Acanthiza, 237.
Yellow-throated Chat, 557.

Sericornis, 234.
Yphantes, 259.
Yponomeuta, 311, 464.
Yuiix, 93.

Zeuzera, 209.
Zonurxis, 67.
Zoophytes, 408, 412.
Zootocct) 59.

THE END.

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