Nests of Baya Si'arkow [Ploceus baya). See page 148.

STRANGE DWELLINGS

BEING A DESCRIPTION

OF

THE HABITATIONS OF ANIMALS

ABRIDGED FROM 'HOMES WITHOUT HANDS'

BY THE

REV. J. G. WOOD, M.A. F.L.S. &c.

IVITH DESIGNS

by

W. F. KEYL, J. B. ZIVECR'ER, AND E. SMITH

NEW IMPRESSION

LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.

39 PATETRNOSTER ROW, LONDON

NEW YORK AND BOMBAY

1903

01

^sl

W^2

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 habitation, namely, a burrow in the ground, the work
proceeds in the following order : — 2nd, those creatures
that suspend their homes in the air ; 3rd, those that are
real builders, forming their domiciles of mud, stones,
sticks, and similar materials ; 4th, those which make
their habitations beneath the surface of the water,
whether salt or fresh ; 5 th, those that live socially in
communities ; 6th, those which are parasitic upon ani-
mals or plants; 7th, those which build on branches.
The last chapter treats of miscellanea, or those habita-
tions which could not be well classed in either of the
preceding groups.

In all these classes a definite order has been pre-
served, the Mammalia having precedence, and being
followed in regular order 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 mammalia, and

vfii PREFACE.

in due zoological order follow the Moles and Shrews,
the Foxes, the Weasels, the Rodents, and the Edentates.
The White Bear alone is removed from its legitimate
place, on account of its singular habitation in the snow.
The Burrowing Birds come next in order, those which
burrow in the earth taking 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 definite
idea of the subject.

On perusing the work, the attentive reader will pro-
bably discover that various animals are placed in one
class when they might very well be in another. The
reason is, that many creatures, such as the wasp, the
ant, the squirrel, &c., might with equal propriety find a
place in several of these classes, and I have therefore
placed them in that class of which some peculir.rity 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 ornithological portion of
the work ; F. Smith, Esq., of the British Museum ; and
the late Charles Waterton, Esq., who permitted me
the use of his museum, and gave me much interesting
and useful information.

CONTENTS.

cvArrBR

?AGB

I. . . Burrowing Mammalia . . • i

II. . , Burrowing Birds 32

III. . . Burrowing Reptiles .... .44

IV. . . Burrowing Invertebrates .... 47
V. . . Burrowing Molluscs S3

VI. . . Burrowing Spiders 64

VII. . . Burrowing Insects {Hymenoptera) . . 73

VIII. . . Burrowing Beetles 91

IX. . . Wood-boring Insects 102

X. . . Pensile Mammalia . . . . .117

XL . . Pensile Birds 121

XII. . . Pensile Bi^d^— continued . . . .127

XIII, . . Pensile Birds— continued . . . .137

XIV. . . Pensile Insects . . . . .151
XV. . Builders 180

XVI. . . Building Birds 184

a

X

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER

PAG8

XVII. .

. Building Bikds— continued .

. 193

XVIII. .

. Building Insects ....

. 207

XIX. .

. Sub-Aquatic Nests {Vertebrates) .

. 225

XX. .

. Sub- Aquatic Nests {Invertebrates)

. 228

XXI. .

. Social Habitations

. 245

XXII. .

. Social Birds

. . 251

XXIII. .

. Social Insects ....

. 256

XXIV. .

. Social Iusects— continued .

. 273

XXV. .

. Parasitic Nests ....

287

XXVI. .

. Parasitic Nests — concluded .

. 309

XXVII. .

, Branch-Building Mammalia

. 320

XXVIII. .

, Feathered Branch-Builders .

• 323

XXIX. .

. Feathered Branch-Builders— ^i?/^^:///

ded . 344

XXX. .

. Branch-Builders {Spiders and Insects)

. 360

XXXI. .

, Miscellanea .

. 379

INDEX

407

ILLUSTRATIONS.

rAGK

Nesis of Baya Sparrow {Ploceus baya) . . . Frontispiect

Trap-door Spider and Nest Titlepage

Fortress of the Mole 2

The Rabbit Warren 17

Canada Pouched Rat [Plan of Burrow) .... 20

Polar Bear 21

Pichiciago 23

Aard Vark 26

Sand Martins 33

Puffin 3^

Pholas in Wood— Lithodomus— Razor Shell— Holes of

Pholas in Rock 58

Shipworm 61

Nest of Trap-door Spider (from a Specimen in the collection

of Lieut. -Col. C. J. Cox) . . .... 69

MYRMELEON— AmPULEX — SCOLIA 80

BoMBUS Terrestris— BoMBUs Lapidarius .... 83

Cocoons of Scarab^eus and Goliath 95

SCOLYTUS 103

The Tailor Birds 123

Ptilotus Sonorus — Entomophila Picta— Entomophila Al-

BOGULARIS — SeRICORNIS CiTREOGULARlS— OrIGMA Ru-

BRICATA 128

Swallow Dic^eum 134

Lanceolate Honey-eater {Plectorhynchus lanceolatus) . .136

Little Hermit {^Pha'ithornis eremita) 138

Sawbill Humming Bird— Brazilian Wood Nymph—White-

sided Hill Star 140

Crested Cassique — Baltimore Oriole 143

Tatua MoRio 152

Nectarinia— Myrapetra ........ 155

«i ILL USTRA TIONS.

PAGE

Nests of Polistes 163

OiKETICUS AND ATLAS MoTH 165

Leaf Miners and Rollers . . , , . . .175

Oven Bird ..... .... 185

Fairy Martin — Pied Grallina 187

The Long-tailed Titmouse 196

The Bower Bird 203

TRYPOXYLON and PELOPiEUS 2I4

Water Spider 230

Caddis 234

Sociable Weaver Bird 252

PoLYBiA , . 257

Cells of the Honey Bee . 262

Hornet 268

Driver Ants 275

Mud Wasp 285

Parasitic Insects. Cocoon of Oak-egger Moth (Crypius
fumipennis.) — CocooN of Puss Moth [Paniscus glaucop-
terns) — Cocoon from New South Wales {Pimpla) —
Cocoon of Goat Moth {Lamprosa setosa) . . .294
British Galls. Leaf Galls of Oak — Bfdeguar of Rose
—Galls of Cynips Kollari— Cynips Kollari {slightly

magnified) — CURRANT Galls of Oak — Oak Apple . 298

Nest of Goldfinch 332

Golden Orioles and Nest 336

Ringdove and Nest 340

Water Hen and Nest 342

Fiery Topaz and Hermit 351

Pensile Spider's Nest , . .361

Mischocyttarus — IcARiA — Raphigaster .... 363

Apoica ... 370

Raft Spider , <, . 380

Mouse-Nest in Bottle ... . . . 389

Termite Cell 391

Edible Swallow 400

Eagijc

402

Strange Dwellings.

CHAPTER I.

B URR O WING MA MM A LI A .

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 Shkew Mole, Elephant Shrew, and Musk Rat— The
Arctic Fox — Structure of its Limbs — Form of its Burrow — The Common
Fox — Mode of Burrowing and economy of Labour — The young Family —
The Weasels — The Badger and its Burrow — The Prairie Dog, or
WiSH-TON-WiSH — Dog-towns — Unpleasant Intruders — The Rabbit, and
the Warren— The Chipping Squirrel— Curious form of its Dwelling— The
Pouched Rat — The White Bear — Its curious Dwelling — Snow as a
Shelter — The PiCiliCiAGO — Its Form, Armour, and Burrow — The Manis —
The Aard Vark, Its P'ood and Dwelling — The Mallangong— Us 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 defence against their enemies. Of all forms of
habitation, the simplest 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.

Human habitations, however, do not come within the scope
of the present work, which is restricted to those homes that are

B

STRANGE DWELLINGS

constructed without the aid of hands, and are planned, not by-
reason, 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
improved by practice.

FORTRESS OF THE MOLE.

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

THE MOLE.

ground and sit at the end of them, but forms a complicated
subterranean dwelHng-place, with chambers, passages, and other
arrangements of wonderful completeness. It has regular roads
leading to its feeding-grounds ; establishes a system of com-
munication as elaborate as that of a modern railway, or to be
more correct, as that of the subterranean network of metropolitan
sewers ; and is an animal of varied accomplishments.

It can run tolerably fast, it can fight like a bulldog, it can
capture prey under or above ground, it can swim fearlessly, and
it can sink wells for the purpose of quenching its thirst. It is,
indeed, 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 becomes a different being, — full of life and energy, and actuated
by a fiery activity which seems quite inconsistent with its dull
aspect and seemingly inert form. The absence of any external
indication of eyes communicates a peculiar dulness to the crea-
ture's look, and the peculiar formation of the fore limbs gives
an indescribable 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 cannot develop its nature unless it is buried below
the surface of the ground, and when it is there, we cannot see
it. Many marine 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.

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 tunnels,
or that the animal works upon a regular system, and does not
burrow here and there at random. How it manages to form its

STRANGE DWELLINGS.

burrows in such admirably straight hnes is not an easy ])roblem,
because it is always in black darkness, and we know of nothing
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
consolidated the heap of loose material, nothing more will be
discovered than a simple hole leading into the tunnel. But let
us strike into one of the large tunnels, as any mole-catcher will
teach up, and follow it up until we come to the real abode ol
the animal.

A section of this extraordinary habitation is given in the
illustration. The hill under which this domicile is hidden is of
considerable 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 practised eye. The
subterraneous abode within the hillock is so remarkable that it
involuntarily reminds the observer of the well-known maze, with
which tlie 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 witli
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 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 th<5 house from one of his tunnels, he hiis

THE MOLE.

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 downwards from the centre of the chamber, and
then, taking a curve upwards, 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 iMole's fur, the walls of the
passages 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.

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 em-
ployed for that purpose. The Mole chooses for this purpose
the spot where two or more passages intersect each other, so
that in case of alarm, the mother and young may escape in the
direction which seems farthest 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 cannot 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 everything
but the heat of battle. Not content with fighting in their
burrows, they often emerge into the open air, and may then be

STRANGE DWELLTNGS.

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 anything 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 difficult 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 he could do so, for even with the
assistance of knives, scissors and forceps, such a task presents
many difficulties, and how the Mole is to succeed in such an
undertaking with no tools but his teeth and claws, I cannot
comprehend. No Mole that I have ever seen, gave the
slightest indication of skinning or emptying the worm, but
proceeded without the least ceremony to devour the writhing
prey, and then looked out for another victim.

It is hardly possible to conceive, and quite impossible to
describe the fury with which the Mole eats. It hunches its
back in a most curious manner, retracts the head between the
shoulders, and uses its fore paws to assist it in pushing the
worm into its jaws. In this respect there is a singular resem-
blance between the Mole and the carnivorous chelodines of
America. I have kept several of them, and have always noticed
that they ate exactly after the fashion employed by the Mole,
seizing their food in their jaws, and tearing it to pieces by the
aid of the armed fore paws — one foot being applied at each side
of the mouth, so as to push the food forwards, while the head
draws it back.

TifE MOLE.

How the Mole assumes this peculiar attitude I cannot 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 perfectly
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
devour 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
strengtli happen to meet, the combat must be of the most
furious kind.

To those who are accustomed only to look at animals from
their own stand-point, these battles may appear too insignifi-
cant to attract attention ; but to the eye of a naturalist, who
instinctively 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.

On looking over the list of burrowing mammalia, the observer
cannot 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, because
it is continually engaged in making new tunnels, and is not
content merely to pass up and down a passage already excavated.
The sides of the passages, which are popularly known as the
high roads, are by degrees worn quite smooth by the attrition
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

STRANGE DWELLINGS.

to pass unsoiled through earth of all textures is a really remark-
able phenomenon, which is partly to be explained by the
character 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 par-
ticular direction, but may be pressed equally forwards or back-
wards or to either side. The microscope reveals the cause of
this peculiarity. 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
peculiar velvet-like texture with which we are all so familiar.
There is scarcely any colouring 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 irides
cence 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 tunnelling, particularly in loose earth, the soil falls
upon the fur, and for a time clings to it. But, at tolerably
regular intervals, tlie creature gives the skin a sharp and power-
ful 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 vessel. The improvement in the fur after bemg well
washed with soft tepid water and soap, is almost incredible

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
inhabitant of the tropics, how deep would have been the interest
which it excited. How the scientific world would have crowded
to see the marvellous structure of a skeleton wherein are several
accessory bones, and which exhibits peculiarities hitherto found

THE SHREW.

only in fossil remains. How great would have been the admi-
ration 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 eveiy 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 XI. 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 won-
derful beings are common, and am thankful for so many oppor
tunities of studying 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 ;
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
although their eyes are full and round, their fore quarters of
ordinary 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
odour 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

STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 habit 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,
possesses no such power, but is obliged to perform that task
with its fore paws.

Then, there is the Elephant Shrew of Southern Africa
{Macroscdides typiais)^ a thick-furred, long-snouted, short-eared
burrower, which has a rather remarkable method of sinking its
tunnels, first boring a nearly perpendicular shaft, and then
driving its burrow at an angle. It is not so devoted to a sub-
terranean existence 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 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 Rat {Myogalea moschata),
though it is an insectivorous animal, and far removed from the
rodents. The river Wolga is the favourite 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 Rat is an admirable burrower, making its tunnels of con-
siderable length, some of them extending to a distance of
twenty feet. There is only one entrance, which is always below

I

THE FOX, II

the water ; and the burrow rises gradually upwards, so that at
the extremity the animal is lodged on dry ground. It is in-
stinctively 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 Fox is a well-known burrower, its ' earth ' being famihai
to many by sight, and to all by name.

Few persons, who do not know the history of the Fox, would
beheve 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 quaUty, 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 {Vulpes 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
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
burrows are often sunk in close proximity to each other. Such
spots would be peculiarly suitable to the Fox, because the sandy

13 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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
tlie small though powerful feet of the animal.

If one of these little colonies could be laid open, a very
curious 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 cha-
racter, 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 Aictic 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 several stoats ; and the abundance of bones belonging to
hares, fishes, and ducks, showed that the wants of the young
Foxes had been amply supplied.

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 labour 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 labour

THE BADGER. 13

greatly diminished ; 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 moreover 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 determinately
to work, and scoops out a burrow on its own account. Herein
it lies asleep all day, as is the custom with most predaceous
animals, and only sallies forth at night. Herein the mother
produces and nurtures her young, and sometimes on a summer'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
playful as puppies, and much prettier, and the mother 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 grey-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 full
bushy tail, and its erect, intelligent-looking ears.

The Weasels have been said to be great burrowers, but I am
inclined to think that very few of them are in the habit ol
tunnelling below the ground.

One of the Weasel tribe is, however, a most powerful and
industrious excavator. This is the Badger {Meles iaxus), an
animal which was formerly considered as our only surviving
British representative of the bear tribe, but is now found to
belong to the weasels.

14 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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
chambers in its domicile, one of which is appropriated as a
nursery, and is warmly padded with dry mosses and grass.

The Badger is a creature that cannot live in close proximity
to human beings, and has, in consequence, been gradually
banished 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 soilj
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 whereon 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 an evil
eye ; 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 existence by the en-
croachments 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 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
various 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

THE PRAIRIE DOG. 15

animal, and we will therefore place it in the former of these
categories.

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
Hes 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.

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, multi-
plying rapidly, and extending its excavations to vast distances.
Indeed, when once the Prairie Dogs settle themselves in a con-
venient spot, their increase seems to have no bounds, and the
tittle heaps of earth which stand near the mouth of their burrows
extend 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,
however, 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 degrees with the horizon, and after descending for five
or six feet, they take a sudden turn, and rise gradually upwards.
Thousands upon thousands of these burrows are dug in close
oroximity 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
cautious Httle animals. Fortunately for the traveller, 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

i6 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

able to survey a wide extent of horizon, and as soon as it sees
an intruder, it gives a sharp yelp of alarm, and dives into its
burrow, its little feet knocking together with a ludicrous flourish
as it disappears. In every direction 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 pro-
truded from the burrow, and their inquisitive brown eyes
sparkle as they examine the cause of the disturbance.

The Prairie Dog has not the privilege of possessing a home
exclusively devoted to its own use, for the Burrowing Owl,
sometimes called the Coquimbo Owl (Athene cunicuiaria), and
the terrible 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 so, 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 incon-
gruous 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
means a welcome guest, but an intruder on the premises, self-
billeted 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
infested 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 exliibit it for halfpence.

THE RABBIT.

17

THE RABBIT WARREN.

One of the most familiar of the British burrowing rodents,
is the common Rabbit [Lepus cu?iiculus), 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 rank as species, did they not invariably display a ten-
dency to recede to the ancestral short brown fur and upright
ears of the wild Rabbit.

The 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. When-
ever the Rabbits find an undisturbed spot, which combines the
advantages of a sandy situation with the vicinity of food, they

c

18 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

establish themselves forthwith, and sink tlieir multitudinous
tunnels into the ground. The favourite 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 verdure, serve admirably to shelter
the entrances.

As is the case with most animals, the Rabbit seeks a quiet
and retired spot for her little nursery. She does not produce
her young in any of the burrows to which the general Rabbit
colony has access, but prepares an isolated tunnel, at the end
of which she forms her nest. The bed on which the young
recline is beautifully 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 Rabbits may see the female preparing hei
cradle with this soft fur, and note how perseveringly she denudes
Her breast of its covering.

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

Among these burrowers, the Chipping Squirrel, or Hackee,
or Chipmuck (Tamias Lysieri)^ is peculiarly conspicuous. It is
a very pretty little creature, brownish grey in colour, with five
stripes of black and two ol pale yellow drawn along the back;
so that it cannot be mistaken for any other animal. Below,
and on the throat, it is a pure snowy white. These are the
normal hues of the fur ; but it is somewhat variable in point of
colour, the grey and yellow being sometimes quite superseded
by the black.

The burrow of the Chipping Squirrel is rather compHcated 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

THE CANADA POUCHED RAT. 19

a slightly ascending direction. Two or three supplementary
galleries are driven from the principal burrow, and by means ol
them the animal is able to escape almost any foe. The stoat,
however, cannot 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
burrow of a Chipping Squirrel, and in a short time to leave it,
having in the space of a very few minutes killed six victims, a
mother and five young, wliose lifeless bodies were found in the
nursery 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 ordi-
nary foes. Owing to the complexity of the burrow, no little
skill is required to trace its various windings, and much exer-
tion is needed before they can all be laid bare.

Our next example is the Canada Pouched Rat (^Pseitdos-
toma 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 burrow is always to be found among the roots of some
tree, which act at the same time as a defence 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 irre-
gular 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 herbage and fur plucked from the body.
This chamber is the point from which a great number of pas-

c 2

20

STRANGE DWELLINGS,

sages 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.

CANADA POUCHED RAT.

{Plan of Bttrrow.)

The Canada Pouched Rat is nearly a foot in length, and is
notable 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 these natural pockets.

THE POLAR BEAR.

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

rOLAR BEAR,

Towards the month of December the White Bear 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 period of her accouchement. Within this strange nursery

23 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

she produces her young, and remains with them beneath the
snow until the montii of March, when she emerges into the
outer air, bringing with her the baby bears, who are then about
as large as ordinary 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 dimensions, the accommodation is increased to
suit them. Although covered so deeply, 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
shelter 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, driven 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 par-
takes of the general fulness of the body, and becomes thick and
sleek, as is needful when we consider tlie 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
accumulated 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 cubs. 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 maintain its own life and suckle

TH^ PICHICIAGO.

its young for a space of three months without taking a morsel
of food.

From a work of this character, so remarkable an animal as
the PiCHiciAGO ought not to be omitted. Its scientific name
is Chla7nyphoriis truncatus, and is very properly chosen, as will
presently be seen.

^^^W

PICHICIAGO.

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

24 STRANGE DWELJ.INGS.

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 com-
pressed 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, worms, and grubs like the rest of the edentate animals.

The chief point of interest which strikes an observer when
looking at a Pichiciago, is the cuirass with which its b«)dy is
defended. 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 attached along the spine, and on the top of the head. It
does not merely protect the back, but when it reaches the inser-
tion of the tail, turns suddenly downwards 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 aff'ords a perfect protec-
tion 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 armour
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 'mantle-bearer,' and the
specific name, 'abruptly shortened.'

THE MANTS. 25

The different species of Manis deserve a passing notice.
They are all burrowers, and are furnished with armour even
better calculated for defence than that of the armadillo, inas-
much as it assumes somewhat of an offensive as well as a defen-
sive 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 hard-
ness, and form a buckler which is impenetrable to any weapon
possessed by the carnivorous animals of the regions wherein it
resides. A specimen of the Bajjerkeit, or Short-tailed
Manis of India {Manis pentadady la), now before me, affords a
good example of this weapon-resisting power. Edward 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 re-
volver 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 examining the
interior of the skin, the wound caused by the double-edged
daggei is plainly perceptible, but I cannot find the slightest
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 hedgehog.

The curious Aard Vark of Southern Africa {Oryderopus
Capensis) 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
excavation and the swine-like contour of its head. The claws
with which this animal works are enormous, as, indeed, is need-
ful for the task which they are intended to perform. They are

26

STRANGE DWELLINGS.

by no means intended merely to excavate burrows in soft or
sandy soil, though they are frequently employed for that pur-
pose ; but they are designed for labours far more arduous. By
means of these implements, the Aard Vark tears to pieces the

AARD VARK.

enormous ant-hills which stud the plains of Southern Africa —
edifices so strongly made as to resemble stone rather than mud,
and capable of bearing the weight of many men on their summits.
These marvellous dwellings (of which we shall see something in

THE AARD VARK. 27

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 destructive labours.

Towards evening the Aard Vark issues from the burrow
wherein 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 walls with perfect ease, and scattering dismay
among the inmates. As the ants run hither and thither, in
consternation, their dwelling falling like a city shaken by an
earthquake, the author of all this misery flings its slimy tongue
among them, and sweeps them into ity mouth by hundreds.
Perhaps the ants have no conception of their great enemy as a
fellow-creature, but look upon the Aard Vark as we look upon
an 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 swarm-
ing colony, leaving a mere shell of irregular stony wall in the
place of the complicated and marvellous structure which had
sheltered so vast a population.

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
conjecture that it was taken either in Madagascar or Australia.
The creatures which we are now about to examine are natives
of the latter countr}'.

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
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 Oniithorhynchus
paradoxus) others have given it the name oi Platypus anati?ius
— the former title being to my mind by far the more appropriate

28 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

and expressive of the two. The natives of Australia have several
names for this remarkable animal ; some calling it Mallangong,
others Tambreet, and others Tohunbuck — the second of these
titles being most generally in use.

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 paddJe 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
round body is admirably adapted for traversing the burrows,
though the stuffed specimens which generally are seen in
museums give but little idea of such capability. As a general
rule, these stufifed specimens are much too long, too stiff, too
straight, too flat, and too shrivelled. During life, the body is
round, and the skin hangs in loose folds around it, having a very
curious aspect 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, but 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 expected in an animal that passes so much of its time
underground ; but they are defended from the earth by a re-
markable leathery flap, which surrounds the base of the man-
dibles, 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 DUCKBILI^ 29

The wonderful duck-like mandibles into which the head is
prolonged are sadly misrepresented in the stuffed specimens
which we generally see, and are black, flat, stift", and shrivelled,
as if cut from shoeleather. No one would conceive, after in-
specting a dried specimen, how round, full and pouting were
once those black and wrinkled mandibles, and how delicately
they had been coloured while the animal retained life. Their
natural hue is rather curious, the outer surface of the upper
mandible being very dark grey, spotted profusely with black,
and its lower surface pale flesh- colour. In the lower mandible
the inner surface is flesh-coloured, and the outer surface pinky
white, sometimes nearly pure white.

Having now glanced at the general form of the Duckbill as
it is in Hfe, and not as it is in museums, we will pass to the
habitation 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 entrance is always hidden most carefully under over-
shadowing weeds and drooping plants, and is so carefully con-
cealed that the unaccustomed eyes of an European can very
seldom find it.

When the grasses, &c. are put aside, there is seen a hole ot
moderate size, on the sides of which are imprinted the footmarks
of the animal. By the dampness and sharpness of these im-
pressions, 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 upwards are fresher and
wetter than those which point downwards. While digging out
the Duckbill, they occasionally pull out a handful of the clay,
inspect the marks, and then fall to work afresh. From this hole
the burrow passes upwards, winding a sinuous course, and often
running to a considerable length. From twenty to thirty feet

^o STRANGE DWELLINGS.

is the usual average, but burrows have been opened where the
length was full fifty feet, and where the course was most annoy-
ingly 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 attribu-
table 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 subterranean home, and therefore that the shape of the
burrow may in some degree depend upon the character of the
ground.

At the upper extremity of the burrow is placed the nest, an
excavation of a somewhat oval form, much broader than the
width of the burrow, and well supplied with dry weeds and
grasses, upon which the young may rest. They appear to
remain in these burrows until they have attained half their full
growth, for Dr. Bennett captured a pair of young Ducklings,
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.

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 Hedge-
hog. The natives have several names for it, some calling it
Nicobejan, others Jannocumbine, and others Cojera.

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 stonef of great size if it can only contrive to insert
its paws and find a convenient crevice for them, and is so quick

THE PORCUPINE ANT-EATER. 31

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 escape. In the open country it digs with such extreme
rapidity tliat 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.

If attacked when on ground into which it cannot burrow
rapidly, the Porcupine Ant-eater immediately turns itself into
a ball, hedgehog-wise, and sets its foes at defiance. The large
perforated spur with which the hind feet of the male are armed,
and through which is poured a liquid secreted by a gland of
considerable size, is a very formidable-looking weapon, but to
all appearances is really harmless. Dr. Bennett often handled
the animal, 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, 1864, the living animal may be
seen in the collection at the Zoological Gardens.

32 STRANGE DWELLINGS,

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 burrow and peculiar nest — Number of the eggs — The Puffin a
feathered usurper — The Feroe Islands and the Puffins — Pro aris et focis —
The Jackdaw, Stockdove, and Sheldrake— Nest of the Sheldrake—
The Stormy Petrel— Its mode of nesting and shallow tunnels— mode of
feeding its young — Evil odour of its burrow — The Woodpecker — Its uses
and misunderstood character — Method of burrowing — The Fungus and the
Woodpecker.

We now take leave of the furred borrowers, 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 riparid)^ so plentiful in this
countr}'. The powers of this pretty little bird seem to be
quite inadequate to the arduous labours which it performs so
easily, and few would suppose, after contemplating its tiny bill,
that it was capable of boring tunnels into tolerably hard sand-
stone. Such, however, is the case, for the Sand Martin is
familiarly knov/n 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
advantage of such a locality. I have frequently seen such
instances of judgment, where the birds had selected the sandy
intervals 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
situation, it sets to work in a very systematic fashion, trying

THE SAND MARTIN.

33

several successive spots with its beak, until it discovers a suit-
able locality. It then works in a circular direction, using its
legs as a pivot, and hy dint of turning round and round, and

SAND MARTINS.

pecking away as it proceeds, soon chips out a tolerably circular
hole. After the bird has hved for some time in the tunnel, the
shape of the entrance is much damaged by incessant passing to
and fro of the inmates, but while the burrow is still new and

34 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

untenanted, its form is almost cylindrical. In all cases the
tunnel slopes gently upwards, so as to prevent the lodgement
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 abandons the burrow, and resumes its
labours elsewhere, and in a piece of hard sandstone rock many
of these incomplete excavations may be seen.

At the furthest extremity of the burrow, which is always
rather larger than the shaft, is placed the nest — a very simple
structure, being a little more than a mass of dry herbage and
soft feathers, 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 dehcate pinky whiteness.

Few foes can work harm to the Sand Martin, during the task
of incubation. Rats would find the soft sandy soil crumble
away from their grasp ; and even the lithe weasel would expe-
rience 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 essay at flight ; and the kestrel and sparrow-
hawk come sweeping suddenly among them, and carry off some
helpless 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.

Fortunately for the Sand Martins, many of their nests are
placed in situations which no boy can reach, and there are
happily 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 inter-
esting account of some Sand Martins which are thus gratefully
protected : —

' Whilst waiting for the train one afternoon at Weybridge, 1

THE KINGFISHER. 35

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 anybody
meddle with them." I fancied at first that he spoke of them as
friends in the way of company only, but he explained his mean-
ing to be, that the flies about the station would be quite in-
tolerable if they were not cleared off by the martins, which are
always 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
perches, of which advantage was taken by scores of others more
advanced in growth, and of old ones reposing after their exer-
tions; 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 ex-
cavate 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 necessities.

D2

36 STRANGE DWELLINGS

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 dimensions, and would not admit my hand and arm with-
out some artificial enlargement. In all cases, the bird takes care
to increase the size of the burrow at the spot where the nest is
made, and to choose a burrow that slopes upwards, 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 mdebted 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
perhaps is still, current in various parts of England, that the
authorities of the British Museum had offered a reward of loo/.
to anyone who would deposit in their collection a perfect nest
of the Kingfisher. This feat has been admirably accomplished
by Mr. Gould.

The nest is composed wholly of fish-bones, minnows furnish-
ing 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 flat. 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 ejecta. The whole of these bones were deposited
and arranged in the short space of three weeks.

It may possibly be owing to these bones and the partial de-
composition which must take place during the time occupied in
drying, that the burrow possesses so exceedingly evil an odour.
This unpleasant eflfluvium, 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 King-
fisher are most lovely to the eye, but the proximity of the bird
is by no means agreeable to the nostrils, the ' ancient and fish-
like smell ' being extremely penetrating. I have now before me

THE PUFFIN. 37

a stuffed and perfectly dry skin of a Kingfisher, which has been
washed and soaked in water for many hours, and yet retains
che pecuhar odour, which is so strong that after I had prepared
it, many and copious ablutions were required to divest my hands
of the horrible emanation.

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 multitude of eggs, the aggregate mass of which
exceeds her own dimensions, but she is a fearless and indefati-
gable 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 {Fratercula arcHca) 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 pos-
sible, 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 domi-
nion to be usurped without remonstrance, and accordingly the
bird and the beast engage in fierce conflict before the matter is
settled. Almost 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
favourable for its excavations. The male is the principal exca-
vator, though he is assisted by the female ; and so intent is the
])ird upon its work, that it may be captured by hand by thrust-
ing the arm into the burrow. The average length of the tunnel
is about three feet, and it is seldom straight, taking a more or

38

STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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
walking 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 endeavour to seize it
before its bill has attained its full proportions and its muscles
have gained their full powers. The parent birds, however,
bravely defend their young, and have been known, as a last

THE SHELDRAKE.

39

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
practised diver, being 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.

There are many other birds which pass a semi-buiTowing life,
making their nests in hollows already excavated, and eithei
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 monedula) , is frequently one
of the semi-burrowers, making its nest within deserted rabbit
burrows, when it can find no more congenial locality. The
Stockdove {Coluniba cenas) is frequently found in similar situa-
tions, placing its rude platform of sticks within the burrow ;
and the common Sheldrake {Tadorna Vidpanser) 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. Rabbit warrens upon sea-edged cliffs, are
favourite resorts of the Sheldrake. In default, however, of
rabbit burrows, the Sheldrake is well content with any mode-
rately 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 colour. Burrows thus tenanted may be found in many
situations, especially on the banks of estuaries, localities which
are always sheltered, and almost always produce an abundant
supply of food for the bird and its young brood.

We often find burrowers where we least expect them.

Who would think, on inspecting a specimen of the well-
known Stormy Petrel (T/ialassidrofna pelagica), that it was
able to dig into the ground, and form the burrow in wliich it

4d STRANGE DWELLINGS.

makes its nest? Such, however, is the case, and the prett}'
little traverser of the ocean shows itself to be as accomplished
in excavating the ground as 't is in flitting over the waves with
its curious mixture of flight and running. If the Stormy Petrel
can find a burrow already dug, it will make use of it, and
accordingly is fond of haunting rocky coasts, and of depositing
its eggs in some suitable cleft. It also will 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
pufiin.

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 locali-
ties 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.

Each bird lays a single egg, which is white, and of small
dimensions. The young are funny-looking objects, and re-
semble puff's 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 of the really rude and primitive, though
ornamental lamps of the ancients.

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

THE STORMY PETREL.

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 exer-
cise 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, everything incomprehensible is fraught with
terrors, and so the harmless, and even useful Petrel, is hated
with strange virulence.

Throughout the breeding season, the Petrel is indefatigable
in search of food, and will follow ships for considerable dis-
tances, 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 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, some-
thing 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 hearing 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 unsavoury scent; and in consequence of
feeding upon this substance, both the habitation and the in-
mates are extremely 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.

42 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 mammaha. 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
excavations made by other creatures, and the hollows formed
by natural decay.

The first in order of these birds are necessarily the Wood-
peckers, examples of which are found in most parts of the
world. They are easily distinguished from any other birds by
the peculiar construction of the beak, the feet, and the tail; the
beak enabling 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 support them in the attitude which gives to their
strokes the greatest 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.

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, perforating the trunks and branches of the finest and
most picturesque trees. But, in point of fact, none of the
British Woodpeckers 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
dissolved by the action of water, which has gained access
ihrough some unsuspected hole. Water, when thus admitted

I

THE WOODPECKER. 43

to the interior of a tree, fills its centre with decay ; and if a
perforation be made through the trunk, so as to let out the con-
tained fluid, gallon after gallon of dark brown water will gush
forth, mixed with fragments of decayed wood, and betray, by
its volume and consistency, 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 before 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 cannot 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 believe, was the first to point out this fact,
has shown me many exami)les of the fungus and its ravages
among his trees, several fine ash-trees and sycamores having
been reduced to mere stumps by the silent operation of the
vegetable parasite.

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 extremity 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.

44 STRANGE DWELLINGS

CHAPTER III.

BURROWING REPTILES.

The Reptiles and their hibernation — The Land Tortoise and its winter
dwelling— The Crocodiles— Snakes— The Yellow SNAKEof Jan.aica— Its
general 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 convenient 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 Grcecd), is
in the habit of slowly digging a burrow with almost painful de-
liberation, 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 inmate had just emerged.

Many other reptiles follow a similar course of action. The
crocodiles, for example, sink 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,

THE YELLOW SNAKE. 45

holes in the ground, and similar localities. Labourers while
engaged in digging, especially in breaking down banks, fre-
quently unearth a goodly assemblage of snakes, all coiled up in
an unsuspected cavity, which they must have entered through
the deserted 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 remarkable in herpetology, that a single accredited example
must not be passed without notice.

In his very interesting work on the natural history of Jamaica,
Mr. Gosse gives a curious account of a burrow made by the
Yellow Snake {Chilabofhrus inornatus). This snake is very
plentiful in Jamaica, and is perfectly harmless to man, being
destitute 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 deter-
mined foe to rats, feeding largely upon them, and even entering
houses in search of its prey. Like the weasel, indeed, of our
own country, which feeds mostly on mice and other destructive
animals, but occasionally makes a raid upon the fowl-house, the
Yellow Snake enters the farmyard, and, instead of eating rats as
it ouglit 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 Reptile-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 — /.^, 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

4.6 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

be able to excavate a burrow, and throw out the earth, seems
almost incredible. How did the snake remove the earth? As
the reptile was not seen in the act of excavating, this question
could not be precisely answered. Mr. Hill, however, to whom
this 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 Archimedean screw.

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

47

CHAPTER IV.

B URRO WING IN VER TEBRA TES.

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 Chelura, and
its ravages among timber— The Gribble and its kin.

The reader will doubtless perceive that among such a multitude
of mamnnals 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
occupy 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 cannot 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 burro wers, as any
creature which we have mentioned, digging a regular burrow in
the earth, residing in their subterranean home, issuing forth to
procure food, and retiring to it when alarmed. These are the crea-
tures so widely famous as Land Crabs {Gecai'cinjis)^ 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

48 STRANGE DWELLINGS,

all burrow in the ground, run with very great speed, bite with
marvellous severity, and associate in considerable numbers. A-s
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 {Gecarcmus ruricola\
is the most familiar of these creatures, we will take it as our
first example of the burrowing Crustacea. This species, which is
sometimes called the Black Crab, and sometimes the Toulourou,
is exceedingly variable in its colouring, sometimes black, some-
times blue, and sometimes spotted. Whatever may be the
colour, some tinge of blue is always to be found, so that the
name of Violet 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.

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 prosecute 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 nar-
rated respecting these crabs, and their custom of scaling per-
pendicular walls rather than turn aside from the direct line of
their route.

Twice in the year the Land Crabs 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 deranged for some little time after the banquet.

About the month of August, the Land Crab is obliged to

THE LAND CRAB. 49

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
throAvn off its old shell, and indued its new suit, which is then
very soft, being little but a membranous skin, traversed by mul-
titudinous vessels. At this time the crab is thought to be in
the best condition for the table. Calcareous matter is rapidly
deposited upon the membrane, and in process of time the new
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 {Gelaswius 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, as beckoning to its pursuer. While so engaged
it has 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 entrance.

Another Land Crab, which has earned the generic title of
Ocypode, 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 resi-
dents. Having no respect for the improvements of civilisation,
this crab persists in burrowing into the sandy roads, and is so
industrious at its excavations, that a staff of labourers is con-
stantly employed in filling up the buiTOws 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

E

so STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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, as it is unlike the form
of most land-frequenting Crustacea. The reader can, how-
ever, 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 consequently defended by hard plates, instead
of being soft and unprotected 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 wp^er, 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 remarkable 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.

It is a quick walker, though not gifted with such marvellous
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 towards the enemy. Some travellers aver that it
is capable of climbing up the stems of the palm-ti'^ies, in order
to get at the fruit, and this assertion has lately been cor-
roborated by the experience of competent observers.

The food of the Robber Crab is of a very peculiar nature,
consisting chiefly, if not entirely, of the cocoa-nut. Most of my
readers have seen this enormous fruit as it appears when taken

THE WOOD-BORING SHRIMP. 51

from the tree, surrounded with a thick massy envelope of fibrous
substance, 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, primci facie, for a crab to
extract the cocoa-nut from its envelope, to pierce the thick and
stubborn shell, and to feed upon the enclosed kernel, seems an
utterly impossible task. Indeed, had not the feat been watched
by credible witnesses, no one who was acquainted with the
habits and powers of the Crustacea would have credited such an
assertion. Yet Mr. Darwin, 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
covering, reducing it to a mass of ravelled threads. This sub-
stance 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 em-
ployed for caulking 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 backwards and forwards, as if it were a bradawl,
the crab contrives to scoop out the soft substance of the nut.

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 {Chehira terebrans), one of the sessile-eyed
Crustacea, 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 httle

52 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

burrow, in which it resides, and which supplies it with nourish-
ment 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 labours is to loosen a flake of
variable 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 action 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 witi-^ which our
coasts are pestered ; for the Gribble {Limnoria terebrans) makes
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 in 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 tunnelling in a
straight line, unless forced to deviate by a nail, a knot, or
similar 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 jetties 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 incredible, considering their small
dimensions and the nature of the substance 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 destructive, that
the substitution of iron or stone for wood has become a necessity.

53

CHAPTER V.

BURROWING MOLLUSCS.

The Boring Snail of the Bois des Roches — Opinions as to the method of
burrowing— Shape of the tunnels— Sohtary habits of the Snail — The Gaper
Shell— The LimpE:T— The Piddock, its habits and appearance— Struc-
ture of the Shell, and its probable use — Method of burrowing— The Date
Shell— Its extraordinary powers of tunnelling — The Wood-borer and its
habits— The Razor Shell — Its localities and mode of life — TheSniPWORM
— Its appearance when young and adult — Its curious development — Its
ravages — Its value to engineers.

Ill fitted as the Molluscs seem to be for the task of burrowing,
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 or wood. Even the
hard limestone and sound heart-of-oak timber cannnot defy
these indefatigable labourers, 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 molluscs.

There is now before me a piece of very hard calcareous rock,
in which are bored several deep lioles, large enough to admit
a man's thumb, and remarkably smooth in the interior, the
extremity 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 litde 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.

54 STRANGE DV/ELLINGS.

In the winter time, each of these holes is occupied by a
specimen of the Helix saxicava, a small snail, closely resem-
bling the common banded snail of our hedges {Helix nemoralis\
and it is thought that the holes are excavated by the snail
which inhabits them. Mr. Hancock, who re-opened 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
molluscs when the rocks in question formed part of the ocean
bed, and that the snails merely inhabit the ready-formed holes.
Mr. Pinkerton upholds this opinion, and states that at least
three other species of helix possess similar habits, the garden
and the banded snail being among the number.

I have compared the burrows of the mollusc, 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
rounded 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
fore-finger 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 represen-
tation 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

THE BORING SNAIL. 55

washed away. If the snail be removed and placed on Htmus
paper, the ruddy violet colour which at once tinges the paper
shows that there is acid of some kind, and if the paper be
applied to the spot whence the snail has been taken, the same
results 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
leaves its food and attaches itself to the rock, remaining in the
same spot until summer approaches. During this time, the
portion 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 atmo-
sphere. 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 manner. I may here mention that
the stone of the Bois des Roches is that of which the column at
Boulogne is built, which has retained its sharpness of outline
after exposure to wind and weather for nearly sixty years. It
13 therefore called marbre Napolhfi Mr. Hancock proceeds
to say, ' The following are a few of the peculiarities which I
have not mentioned in my letter in the Field:

' I St. There is no instance at Bois des Roches of a tunnel
being formed on the horizontal surface of a rock, or on the
sides facing the south and south-east. They are always on the
sides facing the north or north-east.

* 2nd. 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 epiphragms in each shell.]

'3rd. 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 organs for the acid, separate from that for the mucus.

* 4th. Contrary to the usual habits of burrowing molluscs, who

56 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 irregulai,
bearing no relation to the size or shape of the excavators,
whereas, in other excavating molluscs, the shape of the hole
always bears some relation to its occupant, and also the excava-
tions are alike for all animals of the same species.'

There is an opinion that the gastric juice secreted in the
stomach may be the means through which the tunnelling is con-
ducted, 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 substance 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
supplementary tunnels of their own. In my own specimen there
is a curious example of this peculiarity, where the snail has con-
trived to bore completely through the barrier that separates it
from a neighbouring tunnel, and has made a hole as large as the
keyhole of an ordinary writing-desk, and nearly of the same
shape.

There are many marine boring molluscs, 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 arenaria), 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 admit the thumb. As, however, it gradually tapers to the

THE GAPER SHELL.— THE LIMPET. 57

extremity, the aperture at the other end is scarcely capable of
receiving the little finger. The walls of this tube are very thin
and membranous, and it is more or less retractile, carrying
within it the siphons through which the mollusc respires and
takes nourishment.

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 mollusc, 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 tlirough 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, glycerine, or other antiseptic
Hquid. The Gaper Shell is esteemed as an article of food by
man, beast, and bird ; 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 die 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 speci-
mens which are covered with algae 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.

58

STRANGE DWELLINGS.

Our next example of the burrowing molluscs is the well-
known Pholas, popularly called the Piddock {Pholas dadylus),
the shells of which are extremely plentiful upon our coasts,

PHOLAS IN WOOD.
LITHODOMUS.

RAZOR SHELL.

HOLES OF PHOLAS
IN ROCK.

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

THE PIDDOCK. 59

there is rock, and its dimensions and general appearance vary
together with the locaHty. 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 extrem.ely fragile, and of a rather soft tex-
ture, 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
naturalists 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 bradawl
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 again.

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 mosdy the richest in specimens, but even the hard
limestone formations are penetrable by the fragile shell of the
Pholas. It has been well remarked, that the size of the Pholas
and the 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 comparatively small, and the surfaces are rubbed nearly
smooth. The very worst examples, however, are those which
are found in gritty rocks, interspersed with pebbles. The shells
that have burrowed into such substances are dwarfed, abraded,
and often misshapen, and are valueless except to the physio-
logist.

Perhaps the Date Shells are even more powerful as bur-
rowers than the molluscs which have just been mentioned One

6o STRANGE DWELLINGS,

species, the Fork-tailed Date Shell {Lithodomus caudigerd), is able
to bore into substances which the pholas cannot penetrate. It is
truly a wonderful little shell. Some of the hardest stones and
stoutest shells are found pierced by hundreds of these curious
beings, which seem to have one prevailing instinct, namely, to
bore their way through everything. Onwards, ever onwards,
seems to be the law of their existence, and most thoroughly do
they carry 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 mollusc 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.

Those who are fond of wandering on the sea-shore, will often
have experienced tangible proofs of the existence of another
burrowing mollusc, the Razor Shell {Solm ensis).

In some parts of our coast it is impossible to walk on the
mixed rock and sand, when the tide has receded, without no-
ticing innumerable jets of water, which start from the ground
without any perceptible cause, leap for a foot or so in the air and
then disappear. 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 keyhole, and large enough to receive an
ordinary goosequill. If the finger be placed on the spot, or even
if the foot descends heavily 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.

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

THE SHIP WORM.

6r

is commissioned to destroy. The Shipworm {Teredo navalis\
on the contrary, always burrows zuith the grain, and never makes
a transverse 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 Shipworm 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

^HIl'WORM.

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
colour is greyish-white.

Such is the aspect of the Shipworm 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 hedgehog, and, by the continual movement of these
appendages, passing rapidly through the water. It does not,

62 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

however, retain this form for more than six and thirty hours, but
undergoes a further process of development, and is then fur-
nished with a distinct apparatus for swimming and crawhng.
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 molluscs. When it has
passed its full time in this stage of development, it fixes upon
some favourable locality, and then undergoes its last change,
which transforms it into the worm-like mollusc with which
naturalists are so familiar.

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 Shipworm 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 iiave now before me two specimens of * worm-
eaten ' timber, one of which is so honey-combed by this destruc-
tive mollusc, 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 submarine miners, that its unsound state was only dis-
covered by an accident.

Another species of the same genus. Teredo coriiiformis, is
remarkable for the locaUty in which it is found. This curious
mollusc burrows into the husks of cocoa-nuts, and other thick
woody fruits which may be found floating in the tropical seas.
In consequence of the locality which it selects for its habitation,

THE SHIP WORM. 63

it cannot 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 Shipworm will ever be an object
of interest to Englishmen, inasmuch as its shell-lined burrow
gave to Sir I. Brunei the idea which was afterwards so efficiently
carried out in the Thames Tunnel. And, though from the
alteration of surrounding circumstances, that wonderful monu-
ment of engineering skill has not until of late been so practi-
cally useful as was anticipated, it has proved of incalculable
value as pioneer to the numerous railway tunnels of this and
other countries.

64 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

CHAPTER VI.

BURROWING SPIDERS.

rhe Scorpion and its habits — The burrow of the vScorpion — How detectca-
Suicide among the Scorpions — Spiders and their burrows — The Atypus —
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
oi the Spider — Strength and obstinacy of the Trap-door Spider — An Aastra-
lian Trap-door Spider.

Among the burrowers belonging to this order may be reckoned
the well-known Scorpion, of which there are several species,
resembling each other in their general appearance, their struc-
ture 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
travellers, who have learned by experience the habits of these
creatures, do not retire to rest before they have carefully exa-
mined 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 wuth 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 favourite resorts of the Scorpion, which has
caused many an inexperienced traveller to buy future caution
at rather a dear rate.

Scorpions may be found ^^verywhere, under every stone, and

THE SCORPION. 65

in every crevice ; and it not unfrequently happens that when a
pedestrian is passing over a sandy bank, and happens to break
away a portion of it with his feet, a great black scorpion comes
tumbUng down, rolHng over and over among the sandy ava-
lanche, disengaging itself with an angry snap of its claws and a
savage whisk of its tail, and showing fight as if it expected im-
mediate 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
peculiar shape of the entrance, which is of a semilunar form,
exactly 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 purpose, the Scorpions take every advantage of it, so that
a great number of these venomous creatures may be found in a
comparatively small space of ground. Captain Pasley, R.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 burrows in his garden.

The semilunar shape of the entrance is an infalhble indication
of the inhabitant, and in order to find out whether the Scor-
pion is at home, a jug full of water is poured into the burrow.
Scorpions 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 Scoi-pion, 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
segments of the body and speedily died, This experiment was

66 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

repeated seven or eight times, and always with the same results,
so that a further 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 tem-
perature which the Scorpion certainly does not like, but which
it can endure without suffering much inconvenience. Gene-
rally, the Scorpion was dead in a few minutes after the wound
was inflicted.

Many of the true spiders are among the burro wers, and, even
in our own country, it is possible to see a sandy bank studded
with their silk-Hned 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 is carefully lined by a coating of tough webbing,
very strong, very elastic, very porous, and yet not suflering
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 considerable 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
crosses 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 dia-
demd) 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 beetles and midges. These spiders belong
to the family Agelenidae.

THE ATYPUS SULZERI. 67

One of the best, if not indeed the very best, examples of the
British burrowing Arachnida is the remarkable species, Atypus
Sidzeri^ 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 struc-
ture, it would not be able to see anything in front.

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 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 downwards. It is lined with a remarkably com-
pact silken tube, beautifully white, and about half an inch in
diameter. 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 remarkable spider have been obtained from several parts of
England. •

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 Lycosa, or Wolf-spider, that is popularly called by the

68 STRANGE DWELLINGS:

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 neighbour-
ing 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
peasantry 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 probabiHty,
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
displays so much ingenuity in the arrangement of its burrow.
Specimens of both the tunnel and the spider are now before me,
and it is impossible to inspect them without admiration. When
removed 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 otlier. 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 tme nature would hardly be
recognised 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 diiferent character.
This is uniformly smooth to the eye, and of a silken softness to

THE TRAP-DOOR SPIDER.

69

the touch. It is but sHghtly 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

NEST OF TRAP-DOOR SPIDER.

(From a Specimen in the collection of Lieut. -Col. C J. Cox.)

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

70 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

time would be likely to guess at its real character. The micro-
scope, however, reveals its true character at once. If the in-
terior 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 prominences, and composed of threads twisted to-
gether 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
substance 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 inner surface of the trap-door is white and felt-like, and
exactly resembles 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 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 inhabits are often surprised by seeing the ground open,
a little lid lifted up, and a rather formidable spider peer about,
as if to reconnoitre the position before leaving its fortress. At
the least movement 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 unbroken, without a trace of the curious
little door that had been so quickly shut.

The spider itself is an odd-looking creature, with rather
short, but very powerful legs, and a most formidable pair of

THE AUSTRALIAN TRAP-DOOR SPIDER.

7\

fangs. 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 specimen 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 for 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 silken lining of the lid, and the fore legs to the
side of the tube, and resists with all its might.

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
positions where their proceedings could be watched. Some
few months ago, several examples of the Trap-door 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 engaged in defence, it is no sooner removed from
the burrow than it loses all its activity, remains fixed to tlie
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 woi4d. In the
British Museum is a curious specimen of a nest, which is
furnished with two doors, one at each end. The door of one
end is rather 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

72 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

as to show the valve which closes it ; but no one who really
takes an 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 out-
lines. The hole itself is circular, but the door is semi-circular,
the hinge extending across the middle of the aperture.

Two points in this door are specially worthy of notice, the
one b'eing that its edge, as well as that of the aperture, is
bevelled off inwards, so that the accurate closure of the en-
trance is rendered a matter of absolute certainty. The second
point is, that the outer surface of the door, together with the
surrounding earth, is ingeniously 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 remarkable. Towards 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 allusion has frequently
been made, is not a separate piece of workmanship, 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-door Spider,
the pasteboard taking the place of the earthen door.

73

CHAPTER VII.

BURROWING INSECTS.

HYMENOPTERA.

The SaUba Ant and its habitation — Use of the ' parasol ' leaves — Mr. Bates'
account of the insect — Enormous extent of the Dwelling — The Dusky Ant
—Its Strength and Perseverance— Man and Insect Contrasted— The Brown-
Ant — Form of its Habitation — Regulation of Temperature — Necessity of
Moisture — Hov*r the Ant constructs Ceilings — Mining Bees — The Andrena
and its burrowing Powers — The SCOLIA, its Burrows and its Prey — The
Humble Bee — Its general Habits — Locahty of its Dwelling — Development
of the Young — The Lapidary Bee, its Colours, 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.

The burrowing Insects now come before our notice.

Were this work to be arranged according to the rigid systems
of zoological schoohnen, the hst 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, sawflies, ichneumons, and one or two other families. The
greater number of these insects burrow in the ground; but
others are remarkable for their wonderful powers of excavating
the hardest wood, and of forming 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.

74 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

I HAVE felt considerable doubt whether the Sauba, or
CousHiE Ant (CEcodoma cephalotes)^ ought to be reckoned
among the burrowers 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 buildings, I shall place it with the former
class, reserving for the corresponding 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
exists in such vast profusion, that it oftentimes takes forcible
possession 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 protect the insect against the hot sunbeams. The
zeal reason, however, has been discovered by Mr. H. W. Bates,
who has studied with great care the habits of this remarkable
insect, and has disentangled 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 sub-divided into two classes, namely,
the smooth-heads and rough-heads, the former wearing a
polished, homy, translucent helmet, and the head of the latter
being opaque and covered with hair. The large-headed ants
do no ostensible work, all the labour falling to the lot of the
«vorkers. These creatures make raids upon the trees, always

THE SAUBA ANT.

75

giving the preference to cultivated trees, such as the orange
and the coffee, and cut away the 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
labour is carried out to a wonderful extent in these buildings,
for the labourers 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 litde 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 dudes. ' If the top of a small, fresh hillock, one in which
the thatching process is going on, be taken off, a broad cylin
drical 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 number of colossal fellows will slowly begin to make
their way up the smooth sides of the mine. Their lieads 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 Cyclopes of

76 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

Homeric fable. They were not very pugnacious, as I feared
they would be, and I had no difficulty in securing a few with
my fingers. I never saw them under any other circumstances
than those here related, and what their special functions may
be I cannot divine.'

The subterranean galleries which these creatures form are of
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 distance of seventy yards. The Saiiba has often done con-
siderable 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
February. They are quite unlike tlie other workers and soldiers,
being 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 i^w 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 founding 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 cannot
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-insects.

Most of the British ants are among the burrowers, hollowing
out subterranean abodes of great extent, and constructing them

THE DUSKY ANT. 77

upon some intricate plan, the principle of which is not very
evident. 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 excavation. This task is achieved by covering the
former roof witli 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 labours, because they find a difficulty
in procuring sufficient moisture wherewith to mix the clay.

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, parallel 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 dis-
advantage of the ant, we find that a single man, who would
have achieved a similar work in a single day, must have acted
as follows : —

He must have excavated two parallel trenches, each of seventy-
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

78 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 most 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 brunned), a species which is not
very commonly known in this country, and is probably confined
to certain localities. Its habitation and the mode of its con-
struction 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-
posed of a series of stories, often reaching thirty or forty in
number, and generally being built in a sloping direction. These
stories are not composed of regular cells, like those of the bee,
wasp, and hornet, but of chambers and galleries of very irre-
gular 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 establishments. If, for example, the sun is not very
powerful, and the instinct of the little insects tells them that
more heat is required in order to hatch the pupae which are
andergoing their metamorphosis, they take up the white burdens
and carry them into the upper chambers, where the heat is
greater than below.

Again, if there should be a heavy rain, which floods all the
lower 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 tempe-
rature, 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
cannot penetrate. Were it not for this provision which they

THE BROWN ANT. 79

instinctively 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. When-
ever the insects had ceased to work, they could almost always
be induced to renew their labours by dipping a stiff brush in
water, and striking the hand upon it in such a manner that the
water descended like very fine rain upon the earth. As soon
as the formerly quiescent 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 antenna before they apphed it to the
purposes for which it was made.

While some of the ants were engaged in this task, which must
be considered as analogous to brickmaking as practised by man-
kind, others were scooping out shallow hollows in the clay floor,
the little 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 receiving compactness and uniformity. The most
difficult part of such a task is the formation of the ceiling, but
the ants do not appear to be at all embarrassed by so formidable
an undertaking, but can lay ceilings of two inches in diameter
with perfect certaint}^ 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 accuracy, that although so many centres
are employed, the parts always coincide in the proper spots.
The peculiar kneading and biting to which the clay pellets are
subjected makes them exceedingly tenacious, so that they adhere
strongly on the slightest contact.
As is well known, the ants do not retain their wings for any

8o

STRANGE DWELLINGS.

lengthened period, and after these members have served the
purpose for which they were intended, they are broken off by
the insect by means of a transverse seam near the base. There

MVKAlLLhCN,

AMPULLX.

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.

MINING BEES. 8i

Mining Bees, which belong to the genus Andrena, are
admirable 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 intended 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 foi
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 labour 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 invariably a ball of pollen about as large as a pea.
No larva was found in any of the burrows. The whole of the
labour falls upon the female, the fore-legs of the male being
unable to dig, and the hind-legs unable to carry the pollen.

At the right-hand side of the illustration on page 80 may
be seen a figure of a remarkable burrowing bee, called Scolia
flavifrons, 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.

This particular insect 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 illustration, the grub of the beetle is very much
larger than that of the creature which feeds upon it. The
species which is here represented is a large and remarkably

82 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

Striking one, the four conspicuous 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 Ampulex 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.

In the illustration on page Z^ are shown the nests of two
common species of British Humble Bee.

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 subter-
ranean house in the side of some bank, and the nest is usually
found at a depth of a foot or eighteen inches. Sometimes, how-
ever, 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 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
select 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
directions, 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

THE HUMBLE BEE.

83

think that they are being watched, will take instant offence 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

BOMBUS TERRESTRIS.

BOMEUS LAPIDARIUS.

labours, 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

84 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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
sufficient depth, she scoops out a small cavity or chamber, and
therein constructs her first nest. There are but few cells at the
beginning of the year, and these contain the first workers, who
are intended to assist in constructing the enlarged nest. The
larvae 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 ^gg^ and
emerge into the nest. They do not venture out into the air for
several days, the 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 gene-
rally 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 ar^ 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.

The right-hand nest in the illustration is that of the Red-
tipped Humble Bee of Shakspere, known as the Lapidary Bee
(Bombus lapidarius)^ which derives its specific name from its
habit of making its nest within heaps of stone. This beautiful

1

THE WASP. 85

insect is plentiful 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 colour,
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 pre-
ceding, and have more than once been driven away from the
neighbourhood of the nest by its rapid and incess9,nt 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 virulent, causing much pain, and leaving a dull,
aching sensation for several days afterwards. These symptoms,
however, vary according to the individual who is stung, and
those which are mentioned are described according to personal
experience.

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 common humble bee.

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 ( Vespa vulgaris)^ which is equally
fond of honey, fruit, and sugar ; and as it is armed witlj a
potent weapon, is not merely a hateful marauder, but a formid-
able enemy. The gardener, 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

86 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

upon his treasures. It is true that the Wasp is very fond of
ripe fruit, and that with an unfailing 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 predaceous than a vegetable-feeding insect, and
kills so many flies that it relieves the gardener of other foes,
which, in the end, would be more injurious than itself, inas-
much as their larvae endanger not only the fruit but the very life
of the plant. It is a strangely bold insect, and has recourse to
singular methods of procuring food. In the farming depart-
ment 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
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 pigsty 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 regu-
lar rows, and enclosed 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 construc-
tion 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
country. She does not fly fast nor high, but passes slowly and
carefully along, examining every earth-bank, and entering every

THE WASP, 87

crevice 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 fiisses 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 perfectly 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 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,
aided by her jaws, she fixes the woody pulp on the roof, knead-
ing 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 papier-macht 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 hexa-
gonal, as are the completed 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 difl"erent
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 extended over them.

The eggs that were laid in the first three cells are now

88 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

hatched, and have produced very tiny grubs, which are always
hungry and require much attention. They grow rapidly, and,
m proportion to their growth, the parent Wasp adds to the
walls of their cells, so that the young grubs are suspended, with
their heads downwards, as, indeed, is the custom with very
many hymenopterous 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
further 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 labours
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
curious 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, 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
downwards and their bases upwards, so that 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 cannot even put her head into
them

It will be seen, therefore, that, as insects never grow after

THE WASP. 89

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 the worker wasps, or neuters, as they are
sometimes called, whose entire life is devoted to labour, and
who, in fact, are undeveloped females.

Now, however, a change takes place. The cells of which
the next few terraces are composed are of very much larger
dimensions than the others, and are intended for the purpose
of hatching the grubs which will afterwards become perfect
male and female wasps. It will be seen, therefore, that the
workers are hatched in tlie earlier part of the year, and that
the male and female 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 accordance with their enlargement the
covering is extended over 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 behaviour. Instead of
feeding and tending them with jealous care, instead of defend-
ing 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, per-
chance, being eaten by birds, for a slow and lingering death by
starvation within the nest. For the instinct of the workers tells
them that their labour 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 thein surviving their
brief wedlock for more than a few hours ; and the majority of
the females die also, some from exposure to cold, and others by a

90 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

violent death. Those, however, that are fortunate enough to
find a crevice in which they can He dormant during the long
months of winter, creep into that, and there remain until the fol-
lowing spring, when they emerge to be the queens and mothers
of future colonies. 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 comprehend, 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.

9»

CHAPTER VIII.

BURROWING BEETLES.

The Tiger Beetle, and its habits— Beauty of the Insect, its Larva, and mode
of hfe — Carious form of its Burrow — The Sexton Beetle, and its power of
digging in the ground — The Dor Beetle, and the substances into which it
Burrows— Use of the Dor Beetle— The Scarab/eus of Egypt and its won-
derful Instincts — The Egg, the Grub, and the Cocoon — Cocoon in the
British Museum — The Mole Cricket, its form and elaborate Dwelling —
Its general Habits, and wide distribution — The Field Cricket, and its
Tunnels — The May-Fly, and its home — 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.

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 speci-
mens. 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 cannot 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 Beede.

This insect is a mighty burrower, exhibiting, even in its
larval condition, some 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, restricting itself to
bare and sandy soil. It even avoids those spots which are
covered with grass and herbage, cares nothing for shade, and

92 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 surface.

The larvae are most remarkable beings. They are whitish
in colour, and strangely moulded in form, the head being of
enormous size, and of a homy consistency, and the eighth seg-
ment developed 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 rapidity, and which are only just ot suffi-
cient 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 labours of being confined to one spot. The mode by
which it obtains its daily food is as follows. Ascending to the
upper portion 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 ambushed larva, the sickle-like jaws grasp it, and it is
dragged to the bottom of the tunnel, where it is devoured.

The barrow 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
flattened head.

Other beetles are in the habit of driving deep tunnels into
the ground, wherein may be deposited the eggs which are des-
tined to 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 Bury-
ing Beetles. There are several species of Burying Beetles ;
but as their habits are very similar, they need not be separately
described. Anyone who wishes to see them at work may do
so by taking a dead mouse, bird, or piece of meat, and laying

THE BURYING BEETLE.

93

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 bury-
ing it.

Sometimes, but very rarely, a pair of the beetles will come to
the bait 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 early in the morning,
it will be no longer upon the surface of the ground, but will be
half sunk 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 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
labours. 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.

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 shall now examine select only a portion for that
purpose. There is a very large tribe of beetles, of which the

94 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

British type is the common Dor Beetle {Geotrupes 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.

Let us 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 unac-
quainted, the beetle is made aware that the object of its search
is at hand. The dull, monotonous buzz is immediately ex-
changed 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 favour with Hindoos, Kaffirs, and
scarabaei, namely, a patch of cow-dung.

No sooner has it settled, than it dives downwards until it
reaches the earth, and then bores a perpendicular hole, some
eight inches in depth, and large enough to admit a man's
finger. Having ascended to the surface, it carries a quantity
of the cow-dung to the bottom 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 their 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 process of great simplicity, and makes but few calls
on the industry or ingenuity of the labourer. Some allied
beetles there are, however, 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 insect which is found in
many parts of the globe, and very much resembles the Dor

THE SCARAB^US. 95

beetle of our own country. This insect sets to work in a
curiously systematic manner.

As soon as the sensitive organs of the Scarabaeus 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 quan-
tity for its purpose, lays an egg in it, and forms it into a rude
ball. She, for the female insect 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

COCOONS OF SCARAB^US AND GOLIATH.

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 labour. The consequence of all this
curious rolling about, is twofold ; it accelerates the hatching of
the enclosed egg by the exposure to the sunbeams, and it
forms a thin, hard, clay-hke 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

96 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

hatched, and from it proceeds a little white grub, which finds
itself 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
cocoon — 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.

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 Goliaihus
Drurii. This w^onderful 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 unknown, as is its use, unless the
strengthening of the walls be its only object. I have carefully
examined the cocoon itself, and specimens of the insect which
made it, and can find nothing which affords the least clue 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 colour 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-fl:y
is introduced into the drawing, in order to show the com-
parative 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 {Grylloialpa vulgaris), called in some places

THE MOLE CRICKET.

97

the Croaker, or Churr-worm, on account of the pecuHar
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 anomalies of nature, though, in fact, nature is perfecdy
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 members of the mole that the
identity of their pursuits is at once evident.

Like the mole, the insect passes nearly the whole of its Hfe
miderground, 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 re-
quires 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.

To procure the insect is no easy matter, for it always burrows
to some considerable depth when the soil is so loose, and a
labourer with a spade would find much difficulty in disinterring
it. The recognised method of procuring these insects is, to
mark their holes by day and to visit them at dusk, just when
the insects, 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 inhabi-
tant, and both grass-blade and Mole Cricket are drawn out
together.

Just as the mole constructs a habitation distinct from its
ordinary galleries, so does this insect form a chamber for
domestic purposes apart from the tunnels which ramify in so
many directions. Near the surface of the ground a really large
chamber is constructed, measuring about three inches in dia«
meter, and nearly one inch in height. It is made very neatly,
and the walls are carefully smoothed. Within this chamber the

H

98 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

Mole Cricket deposits its eggs, which are generally from two to
three hundred in number, and yellowish in colour. As the
chamber lies so near the surface of the ground, the genial sun-
beams are able to raise the temperature sufficient for the hatch-
ing 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 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
favourite resorts of the Field Cricket, and I have noticed the
insect peculiarly plentiful in the roads and lanes between Rams-
gate and Margate. Like the mole cricket, it is of a very com-
bative nature, and may be drawn out of its tunnel by the simple
process of pushing 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 ^nd 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.

Before leaving the earth-burrowers, 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 habita-
tion. 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

THE ANT-LION. 99

Our last example of the earth-burrowing insects is a truly
remarkable one. I allude to the celebrated insect known as the
Ant-lion {Myrmeleott formicarius). In its mature state, it
presents nothing worthy of remark, except, perhaps, the ele-
gance of its form, and the delicacy of its wide gauzy wings,
.vhich much resemble those of a common Dragon-fly. But in
Its larval condition it is truly a wonderful being.

Though predaceous, and feeding chiefly on the most active
insects, 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
obtaining food. Thick, short, soft, and fleshy, the body is sup-
ported on six very feeble legs, of which the hinder pair only are
employed for locomotion, and these can only drag it slowly
backwards. From the front of the head project a pair of long,
slender, curved mandibles, which give the first intimation that
the grub has anything formidable in its nature. These mandi-
bles are curiously made, being deeply grooved throughout their
length, and permitting the maxillae, or inner pair of jaws, to
play up and down them.

Inert and helpless as it may seem, this grub is a ruthless
destroyer 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 backwards in a circular direction, it traces a shallow
trench, the circle varying from one to three inches in diameter.
It then makes another round, starting just within the first circle,
and so it proceeds, continually scooping up the sand with its
head, and jerking it outside the limits of its trench. By con-
tinuing this process, and always tracing smaller and smaller
circles, the grub at last completes a conical pit, and then buries
itself in the sand, holding the mandibles widely extended.

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

STRANGE DWELLINGS.

out of the insatiable curiosity which distinguishes ants, cats,
monkeys, and children, and partly out of a desire to obtain food.
No sooner 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
extended jaws that are waiting for it at the bottom. A smart
bite kills the ant, the juices are extracted, and the empty carcase
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 slopes 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 flinging 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
happens to fall on the escaping victim, knocks it over, and en-
ables the devourer to grasp it in the terrible jaws, which never
open but to reject the dead and withered carcases; sometimes
the insect is tired before the Ant-lion, and suffers itself to be
captured ; and sometimes, though very rarely, it succeeds in
making its escape. In either case, the pitfall is quite out of
shape, and instead of re-arranging 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 nothing of the kind, but only tosses the sand out as fast
as its head can work, without aiming in any direction, or having
any idea except to prevent the pit from being filled up.

Its earth-burrowing life does not cease until it assumes the
perfect state. When it has passed its full time in the larval
condition, and is about to change into a pupa, it spins a silken
cocoon of a globular form, and therein remains until it is about

FHE ANT-LION.

to assume its perfect condition. The pupa then bites a hole
through the side of the cocoon, and projects its body half out
the aperture. 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 mcluded 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 are 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 80, 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
lesembles.

I02 STJ^ANGE DWELLINGS.

CHAPTER IX.

WOOD-BORING INSECTS.

BEETi.ES— The ScoLYTUS and its ravages— Mode of forming the Tunnels
Curious instinct — Worm-eaten Furniture, its cause, and the best method of
checking the Boring Insects — Ginger-borers — The Wasp Beetle, its shape,
colours, and tunnelling powers — The MuSK Beetle — Its beauty and fra-
grance—Difficulty of detecting the Musk Beetle — Its Burrows and their
inmates — The Rhagium and its Cocoon— 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 — 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 fir-trees — Carpenter Bee — Mode of making its burrow —
The Goat Moth — Its unpleasant odour — Shape and colour of the larva — Its
winter cocoons — Escape of the moth from the burrow— Clear-wings Wolf
Moth and Honey-comb Moth,

We now leave the earth -burrowers, and proceed to those insects
which tunnel into wood and other substances.

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.

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 tvill distinguish it
from other small beetles which bore into wood.

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

THE SCOLYTUS.

103

furniture, but of rather larger diameter. When I was a very
Httle 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 firearms, but
to insects.

If the bark be cut through, and then raised with the knife, the
curious radiating system of tunnels will be exposed to view, and
the observer will notice that, however these tunnels may vary

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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
gradually increase to their termination. The cause of this forma-
tion is as follows : —

The mother insect enters the bark in search of food, and
burrows deeply into the tree, sometimes boring into the substance
Cff the wood itself, but generally cutting a tunnel between tlie

J04 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 outwards.

When the grubs have made some progress, the wisdom of this
arrangement becomes evident. As they increase in size, the
burrows 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 exogenous trees the nourishment is
derived from the bark, the tree must die as soon as the functions
of the bark are suspended.

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,
PHliftus pectinicornisy 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 solution of corrosive sublimate into the holes,
and then treating the whole of the surface with the same
poisonous liquid. I need perhaps scarcely mention, that insects
which are popularly called Death-watches, belong to this

THE WASP BEETLE. 105

family. Not only do furniture 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 unsaleable. 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.

There is a large group of beetles, which, in consequence of
their extremely long antennae, are called by the name of Longi-
cornes. We have several examples in our own country, some
of them being remarkable for the beauty of their colours, as
well as for the elegance of their forms. The common Wasp
Beetle (Clytus arietis) 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 re-
sembles 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 Beede is spent entirely in dark-
ness, the grubs burrowing into wood, and therein undergoing
their transformations. They are curious little beings, white,
roundish, but flattened ; the rings of which the body is made
are deeply marked, the segments nearest the head are much

jo6 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 favourite 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
moscJiatus). Nearly an inch in lengtli, with long and gracefully-
curved antennae, and slender and elegant in shape, it would
always command attention, even if it were not possessed of two
remarkable characteristics, colour and perfume.

To the naked eye, and in an ordinary light, the colour 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 realised 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 micro-
scope, by means of concentrated light, the true glories of this
magnificent insect become visible. The general colour is green,
but few can describe the countless shades of green, gold, and
azure, that are brought out by tlie 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 colours, 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 odour which it exudes is extremely powerful ; so strong,
indeed, that I have often been attracted by the well-known
perfume as I walked along a tree-fringed wood, and, after a
little search, discovered 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 colour harmo-
nizes so well with the leaves, that a novice will seldora distin-

THE ROSE-CUTTER BEE. 107

guish the insect. A practised eye, however, looks out for the
antennae, and is at once attracted by their waving grace.

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 favourite 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 pre-
sented to the spectator. In some spots, the interior is hollowed
out by nearly parallel burrows, until it looks as if it had been
tunnelled by the shipworm, while sections are made of burrows
that turn suddenly aside, or gradually diverge towards the yet
uneaten parts of the timber. In some of the holes will be found
the long white grubs, in others tlie pupa may be seen lying
quiescent, while a perfect beetle or two may possibly be dis-
covered near the entrance of the holes. Nor are the Musk
Beetles the only tenants of the tree, for there is generally an
assemblage of woodlice, centipedes, and other dark-loving
creatures, which have crawled into the deserted holes, and
taken up their abode within the tree.

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

The first is the RosE-cu^n'ER Bee {Megachik Willoiighbiella),
or Willow Bee, as it is often called, because its burrows are
so frequently made in decaying willow-trees. This species is
very common in most parts of England, 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
supports herself by clinging to the very piece of leaf which she
ciits, she would fall to the ground, when the leaf was severed,

ro8 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

did she not take the precaution of balancing on her wings for a
few moments before making the last cut. As soon as the por-
tion 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 suc-
cessively into the burrow, in such a manner that they fit into
one another, and form a small thimble-shaped cell. At the
bottom of the cell she places an egg and some bee-bread, this
substance being 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 {^^ 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 centiinciUaris^ seems rather capricious in its choice
of burrows, at one time making its tunnel into an old post or
decaying 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 incli in length, and sometimes
reaching twice that size.

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.
Generally, 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 aJways contain
the larvae ©f female insects, those nearest the entrance being
the males.

Sometimes the nests which are found in the bramble contain
the larvae of Osmia leucomelafia^ a pretty little bee, scarcely
more than a quarter of an inch in length, black in colour, with a
very glossy abdomen, and a white, downy look about the legs.

THE OSMIA LEUCOMELANA. 109

Five or six cells are made in each branch, and the perfect in-
sect appears about the month of June.

Several species select localities even more remarkable, and
make their nests in -the empty shells of snails. The common
banded snail is a favourite with these bees, and in the British
Museum 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.

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 excavating downwards, as she would be incommoded with
the dust and rubbivsh which she removes ; no, she work np7vards^
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
downwards. She excavates a cell near the bottom of the tube,
a second and a third, and so on to the required number. The
larvag when full fed have their heads turned upwards. The
bees which arrive at their perfect condition, or rather those
which are first anxious 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.'

no STRANGE DWELLINGS.

One of the wood-boring bees is especially worthy of notice,
because some of its habits were remarked a century ago by
Gilbert 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
insects, seldom appearing before the beginning of July, and is a
rather stout-bodied insect, greyish black, with yellow lines
along the sides of the abdomen. The last segment of the male
is notable for its termination in five teeth. Its length is rather
under half an inch, and it is a very remarkable fact ^hat, con-
trary 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
selected a fitting home, she enlarges it slightly at the end, and
then goes in search of soft vegetable fibre wherewith to line it.
* 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 address 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, placing 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
burrows; of a splendid insect called Sirex gigas by entomologists.

THE SI REX GIG AS. m

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 really a 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
general public, that nine-tenths of those to whom I showed it
declared that it was a wasp, and the remainder thought it to be
a hornet.

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.

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

With the long and powerful ovipositor the mother insect
introduces 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 direc-
tions, feeding upon the substance of the wood, and drilling holes
of a tolerably regular form. Towards 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 insects may often be seen on the trunks
of the trees, clinging to the bark close to the hole out of which
they have emerged.

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 rami-

STRANGE DWELLINGS.

fied a burrow as the common Goat Moth ( Cossus ligniperda).
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
favourite. Kent is one of the counties wherein this motli 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 caterpillar.

The larva of the Goat Moth derives its name from the very
powerful and rank odour which it exhales, and which is thought
to resemble that of the he-goat. This odour is not only strong
but enduring, and for several years after tlie 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 although a very long time has evidently elapsed since the
larvas inhabited them, their odour is quite strong, and can be
perceived at a distance of several feet. The pocket in which T
placed them, after removing them from the tree, has never lost
a rank reminiscence of its contents.

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 Romans, whicli was
thought so great a delicacy by the ancients, I cannot believe
that any palate 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 colour it
is of a mahogany-red above, and yellowish below. The whole
surface is smooth and polished, and, as may be presumed, con-
sidering 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 GOAT MOTH.

13

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,
constructed from wood-chips and silken thread, a large store of
which can be produced by this caterpillar. Some cocoons are
now before 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 interior of the tube made
by the trapdoor 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 specimen is so loosely made that it collapses under the
least pressure. The other two are intermediate in point of size,
but precisely similar in point of construction. Besides them
there is a specimen of the cocoon in which the creature undergoes
its last change. 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
itself along, so that it partially projects from the hole, thus

I

ri4 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

enabling the insect to escape at once into the outer world. In
some instances, however, this is not the case, and in tlie 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 wonderfully small size, considering the dimensions
of the perfect insect, and its sides are very ragged and irregular.
Like the other cocoons, it is strongly imbued with the charac-
teristic odour, 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.

Some of the most elegant and curious British Lepidoptera
are also among the most destructive.

The various species belonging to the remarkable family
^geriadae, 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 transparent, 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 wonderfully like
gnats, and as they fly about in the sunshine may readily be
mistaken for these insects.

Of one of these insects, Algeria asiliformis^ known to col-
lectors as the Breeze-fly Clear-wing, Mr. J. Rennie 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 architect consisted in scraping the cell
almost to the very surface of the wood, leaving only an exterior

CHE WOLF MOTH, 115

covering of unbroken wood, as thin as writing-paper. Previous,
therefore, to the chrysaUs making 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 moveable lid, of a sort
of brown wax.'

The last-mentioned peculiarity is worthy of special notice,
because 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 tliemselves so that the head is towards the
orifice. The abdominal segments of the chrysalis are furnished
with points directed backwards, so that by alternately ex-
tending and contracting! the abdomen, the creature is pushed
onwards. 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 issue at once into the
world.

With two more species of lepidopteran burrowers, we must
dose our list, one of them boring into wood and the other into
wax.

The first of these insects. Tinea gi-anella^ is sometimes called
the Wolf Moth. It is a very small insect, and is closely
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 to-
gether 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 through the
knots without being checked either by the hardness of the

ii6 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

wood, or the abundance of turpentine with which the knots in
deal are saturated. This is the more astonishing, because
turpentine is mostly fatal to insects, and a little spirit of
turpentine in a box will eifectually keep off all moths and
beetles.

In these burrows the larvae change into the pupal state, and
there remain until the following summer, when they emerge
in h6sts, 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, theif
tastes should change so suddenly as to induce them to take to
wood, and wood moreover which is never free from turpentine,
however well it may be seasoned.

The last of our burrowers is the Honey-comb Moth, be-
longing 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 generally 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 drew their
silken tubes through and through the combs, ate up even
my beautiful royal cells, devoured all the bee-bread, and con-
verted the carefully chosen specimens into an undistinguish-
able mass of dirty silk, debris and moths, both dead and
living.

Although there are still in my list many names of burrowing
insects which have^iot yet been described, it is necessary that
we should take our leave of the burrowers, and proceed to the
next chapter.

117

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 agihty — 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 miftutus), the smallest
example of the mammalia in England, and nearly in the
world.

This elegant little creature is so tiny that, when fuU-growa,
it weighs scarcely more than the sixth of an ounce, whereas
the ordinary mouse weighs almost an entire ounce. Its olour
is a very warm brown above, almost amounting to chestnut,
and below it is pure white, the line of demarcation being
strongly defined. The colour 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 could never
gain admission, provided they are built on proper staddles,
were it not that it gets into the sheaves as they stand in tlie
field, and is carried within them by the labourers. Other
mice, however, are sometimes 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

ci8 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

bright ruddy hue of the back and the white of the abdomen.
Moreover, the ears of the Harvest Mouse are shorter in pro-
portion than those of the ordinary mouse, the head is larger
and more slender, and the eyes are not so projecting, so that a
very brief inspection will suffice to tell the observer whether he
is looking at an adult Harvest Mouse, or a young specimen of
any other species.

Mice always make very comfortable nests for their young,
gathering 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.
The Harvest Mouse, however, surpasses all its congeners in
the beauty and elegance of its home, which is not only con-
structed 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,
mentioned 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 hollow sphere with thin walls is still a problem. It
is another problem how the young are placed in it, and anotlier
how they are fed. The walls are so thin that anything 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.

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 downwards 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 losely articulated that it can be turned nearly

THE SQUIRREL, 119

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 sensitive mobility of the same organ in the spider monkey,
or kinkajou.

As the food of the Harvest Mouse consists greatly of insects,
flies being especial favourites, it is evident that great agility is
needed. Its leap is remarkably swift, and its aim is as accu-
rate 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 cannot
lay claim to the exquisite neatness which distinguishes the
harvest 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 contrary is comparatively frail, and is placed nearly

!20 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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
chosen, the Squirrel takes no pains to conceal the summer cage,
but builds it so openly, that it can be seen from a considerable
distance ; whereas the winter home requires a practised eye to
detect it. So confident is the animal in the strength of its
position, that it can scarcely be induced to leave the nest, and
will sit there in spite of shouts and stones, provided that the
missiles do not actually strike the nest. A well-aimed stone will
generally 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 domi-
cile 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
shape of the summer nest is nearly spherical. The winter cage,
however, is most irregular in form, being accommodated to the
space between the boughs in which it is built, and is very thick
and warm.

121

CHAPTER XL

PENSILE BIRDS.

Weaver Birds and their general habits — The Mahali Weaver Bird-
Shape of the nest — Singular defence — Remarkable nests of Weavers — Very
curious contrivance — The Gold-capped Weaver — Structure and situation
of the nest— The Tailor BiRD—Structure of the nest— The Fan-tailed
Warbler- Singular method of fixing its nest.

Although 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 Ploceidse, all being
inhabitants of the hot portions of the old world, such as Asia
and Africa.

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 curious locality is evidently that the eggs and young
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 pro-
pensities.

Snakes, too, also inveterate nest-robbers, some of them living
almost exclusively on young birds and eggs, are eftectually 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, tliey never can see one of their enemies

122 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

without scolding at it, screaming hoarsely, shooting close to its
body, and, if possible, indulging in a passing peck.

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 are built in the palms, which have no true branches, and
no twigs at all, are fastened 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 comparecj 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 pos-
sible. The ends of all the grass-stalks, which are of very great
thickness, project outwards, and point towards the mouth of
the nest, which hangs downwards ; so that they serve as eaves
whereby the rain is thrown off the nest.

Perhaps the most singular-looking nest made by these birds
is that of a rather small, yellow-coloured species {F/oceus ocu-

THE GOLD-CAPPED WEAVER BIRD. 123

larius). This nest looks very like a chemist's retort, with the
bulb upwards — 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, stiif and elastic grass, scarcely larger
than the ordinary twine used for tying up small parcels, and
interwoven with a skill that seems far beyond the capabilities
of a mere bird.

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 out-
side, 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 section of tlie 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 eifectually prevents the young birds from
falling into the neck.

Another of this group is the Gold-capped Weaver Bird,
Ploceus icier ocephalus. 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. A specimen in my collection 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-sterns, 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

124

STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 artistically 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 colour
is of a pale bluish grey, and the contrast which they present to

THE TAILOR BIRD.

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.

The wonderful litde bird, whose portrait is accurately given
in the accompanying illustration, is popularly known by the
appropriate title of Tailor Bird, its scientific name being Or-

THE TAILOR BIRD. 125

thotomus longicaudus. The manner in which it constructs its
pensile nest is very singular. Choosing a convenient leaf, gene-
rally 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 shoemaker uses his awl, the two instruments
being very similar to each other in shape, though not in
material.

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 towards each other, so as to
form a kind of hollow cone, the point downwards. Generally a
single leaf is used for this purpose, but whenever the bird cannot
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.

The Tailor Bird is a native of India, and is tolerably familiar,
haunting the habitations of man, and being often seen in the
gardens 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
cisticola) has a similar method of action, though the nest cannot
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

126 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 beau-
tiful figure of this bird may be seen in Gould's * Birds of
Europe,' vol ii

127

CHAPTER XII.

PENSILE BIRDS {continued).

Australian Pensiles — The Yellow-throated Sericornis—Iis habits —
Singular position for its nest — Conscious security — The Rock Warbler —
Shape and locality of its nest— The Singing Honey-Eater and its nest —
The myall or weeping acacia— Various materials — The Painted Honey-
eater, its habits and nest — The White-throated Honey-Eater and its
habits — Its curious, nest — Locality of the nest — The Swallow Dictum —
Its song and beauty of its plumage—The nest, its materials, form, and po5i-
tion — The Hammock Bird — Singular method of suspending the nest.

Some very remarkable instances of pensile birds' nests are
found in Australia, and for many of them we are indebted to
the careful and painful research of Mr. J. Gould, from whose
skilful works on ornithology several illustrations have been, by
permission, copied.

A very curious instance is found in 'the nest of the Yellow-
throated Sericornis {Sericoniis citreogularis)., a rather pretty, but
not a striking bird. The general colour is simple brown, and,
as its name imparts, the throat is of a citron-yellow. The only
remarkable point in the colour, beside the yellow throat, is a
rather large patch of black, which envelopes 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 under-
wood, 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 reason for its mention in this work is the singular
structure of its nest, which is described by Mr. Gould in the
following words :- •

T28

STRANGE DWELLINGS.

' One of the most interesting points connected with the
history of this species is the situation chosen for its nest.

' All those who have travelled in the Australian forests must
have observed that, in their more dense and humid parts, an

PTILOTUS SONORUS. ENTOMOPHILA PICTA. ENTOMOPHILA ALBOGULARIS.

SERICORNIS CITREOGULARIS. ORIGMA RUBKICATA.

atmosphere peculiarly adapted for the rapid and abundant
growth of mosses of various kinds is generated, and that these

THE YELLOW-THROATED SERICORNIS. 129

mosses not only grow upon the trunks of decayed trees, but are
often accumulated 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 art that 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 foliage. As will be
readily conceived, in whatever situations they are met with, they
at all times form a remarkable and conspicuous 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
necessary.

* 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 con-
siderably in colour, the most constant tint being a clove-brown,
freckled over the end with dark umber-brown, frequently assum-
ing 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 shade of this
and a few other nests, he will see, in a future page, how wonderful
is the resemblance between the pensile nests of birds and insects.

Pensile birds do not always suspend their nests to the
branches of trees, but in some instances choose exactly the

K

I30 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

localities 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 Rock Warbler, or
the Cataract Bird (Origma rubricata), because it is alway?
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, Origma^ is derived from a Greek word, sig-
nifying 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
coloured, the general hue being brown, relieved by a dull red
on the breast, something like that of the female robin. It has
a melodious 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
whenever an overhanging ledge of rock affords protection from
the elements, there the strange nests may be found. Just as the
martins take a fancy to some favourite spot, and build whole
rows of nests on one side of some particular house, utterly dis-
daining neighbouring houses, which, to all appearance, afford
exactly the same advantages, so do the Rock 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 it 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 within.

A MOST beautiful pensile nest is made by the Singing Honey-
Eater {Ptilotus sonorus), a species which is spread over a large
portion of Australasia.

THE SINGING HONEY-EATER, 131

Here we have another example of an Austrahan 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-coloured bird, though easily identified, the back
being pale brown, the top of the head yellow, and a deep black
patch passing over the eye and turning downwards along the
side of the neck. It is a hvely bird, as are all those feathered
creatures which feed chiefly on insects, and even in mid-winter
its melodious song may be heard in full vigour.

There is a very common tree in Australia, popularly called
the myall, known to scientific botanists as Acacia pendula. The
twigs of the tree are long and very slender, and the leaves are
so narrow and delicate that at a little distance they look more
like grass-blades than the leaf of a tree. The reader may re-
member 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
extraordinarily 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 sus-
pending it where no ordinary foe can reach it, while the deli-
cate 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 ver>'
fine dry stalks, not thicker than twine, while the lining is com-
posed of fibrous roots, matted together with spiders' webs. It
is fastened by the rim to the twigs, and as a few of the slender
twigs occasionally are interwoven into the nest, it hangs quite
securely. In Western Australia, the nest is made of grasses,
which, although green when first woven, become white and

t32 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

dry in a short time. The grass is mingled with the hair of
the Kangaroo and the fur of some phalangist, 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 is another of these pretty birds, called the Painted
Honey- Eater, on account of the variety of its colouring. Its
scientific name is EntotJiophila picta. The general colour of
this handsome 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 spreading their tails so as to show the
white colour. 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 colour, and tlie white spot on the
face, adding greatly to the resemblance.

The material of which the nest of the Painted Honey- Eater
is composed is fine fibrous roots, interwoven very artfully, but
loosely, and being of so frail a structure, that much care is
required to remove it without damage. It is fastened by the
rim to the delicate twigs of the beautiful weeping acacia
{Acacia pendula) J whose long lanceolate leaves droop over and
nearly cover it. It is a very small nest in proportion to the
size of the bird.

THE WHITE-THROATED HOAEY-EATER.

133

Still keeping to the same interesting family of birds, we find
among the pensile builders another species of Honey-Eater.

The White-throated Honey- Eater {Ejitomophila albogu-
laris) is rather like the Painted Honey- Eater, being brown
above, white below, and having a yellow patch 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 greyish blue, and the
breast is buff.

It is a lively, active little creature, ever on the move, and
delighting 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 con-
tinues 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 Melaleucse, 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.

There is a genus of very small birds, called Dicaeum, which
is spread over many parts of the world, and finds several repre-
sentatives in Australia. All are interesting birds ; but as the
present work only treats of birds as the architects of their nests,
it is necessary to select one which builds a pensile habitation.
This is the Swallow DiCiEUM {Diccewn hirundinaceuin), a bird

134

STRANGE DWELLINGS.

scarcely as large as our common wren, and glowing with bril-
liant colours, 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

\i

[ \-^WIK V s\V

3-%^^\^

SWALLOW DICiEUM.

though low and mward note, so faint as scarcely to be audible
from the tops of the trees, but continued for a long time
together.

THE SWALLOW DICTUM, 135

Artificial aids to vision are required in order to watch the
habits of the Dicaeum, for it loves the tops of the tallest trees,
where its minute body can scarcely be seen without the assist-
ance of glasses. The Casuarinae are favourite 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 Dicaeum 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 Dicaeum is as pretty as its architect,
and its ordinary shape can be seen in the accompanying illus-
tration, though the plain black and white of a wood engraving
can give but little idea of its full beauty. In colour it is nearly
pure white, being made of the cottondike down which accom-
panies and defends the seeds of many plants, and this material
is so artfully 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 portion 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 Casuarin^, or
the delicate twigs of the myall or weeping acacia, for that pur-
pose. The average number of eggs is five, and their colour is
greyish 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.

On the next page is a portrait of one of the Honey-Eaters,
called the Lanceolate Honey- Eater {Plectorhyttchus lanceola-
fits), on account of the shape of its feathers. It is not a
brilliantly coloured bird, its hues being only brown and white,
diversified by a black line down the middle of each feather.

The wonderful nest of this bird was found by Mr. Gould on
the Liverpool Plains, overhanging a stream, and being a beau-
tiful example of the pensiles. The materials of which it is made

36

STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 sus-
pended at opposite extremities of the rim, the tree selected

LANCEOLATE HONEY-EATER. {^Plectorhyiichtcs luHceolatus.)

being the myall, or weeping acacia. The nest is rather small
in proportion to the 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.

137

CHAPTER XIII.

PENSILE BIRDS {continued).

American Pensile Birds— Humming Birds, and the general slructure of then
nests— The Little Hermit, its colour, habits, and nest — The Grey-
throated Hermit and its hardihood— The Pigmy Hermit and its seed-
nest— The White-sided Hill Star— Curious method of suspending its
nest— The Sawbill and its singular nest— Habits of the Sawbill— The
Brazilian Wood Nymph — Use made of its plumage and nest — The
Baltimore Oriole — Reason for its name — Its beautiful nest, and curious
choice of materials — The Orchard Oriole, or Bob-o'-Link — Various
forms of nest — Why called Orchard Oriole — The Crested Cassique,
its size, form, and colours— Its remarkable nest — The Great Crested Fly-
catcher, and its use of serpent-sloughs— The Red-eyed Fly-catcher,
or Whip-Tom-Kelly— Low elevation of its nest— The White-eyed Fly-
catcher, its nest, and fondness for the prickly vine— The Asiatic Pensiles
— The Baya Sparrow — Its colour 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
pensile builders among American birds, and the 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.

Our first example of the pensile Humming Birds is the beau
tiful species called the Little Hermit [Pha'ethornis ereniita).

The nest which is here figured was attached to the very
extremity of the leaf, so that the long tail hung down freely.

138

STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 wath spiders' web,

LITTLE MEKMiT. (^Pkaetkoruis cremita.)

by means of which the nest was a.ttached to the leaf at the end
of which it swings. The bird almost invariably chooses some
dicotyledonous leaf for its pendant home.

GREY-THROATED HERMIT— PIGMY HERMIT 139

Other nests made by bir^s of the same genus are worthy of a
passing mention.

First, there is the pretty nest of the Grey-throated Hermit
{Phaethornis griseogidaris), 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
surprising, many species being found only on the highest moun-
tains, and one bird, the Chimborazian Hill Star, mhabiting a
zone that is never less than twelve thousand feet, and seldom
more than sixteen thousand, above the level of the sea. Imme-
diately above the last-mentioned elevation the line of perpetual
snow begins, and though the bird can exist just below it, the
absence of vegetation prevents it overpassing that line.

The nest of the Grey-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, if we may so call the lengthened appendage, is not free, but
attached to the leaf in the same manner as the nest.

Another species, Phaethornis Eurynome, makes its nest of the
tendrils of certain creepers, together with deUcate 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 pygmmis), a pretty little creature,
thougli 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 grey-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
exterior being covered with downy seeds, and the interior lined
with similar down, and the delicate fibres of flowering plants.

In the accompanying illustration may be seen figures of the
nests made by three different species of humming birds, each

I40

STRANGE DWELLINGS.

of which is remarkable for some pecuHarity 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.

SAWBILL HUMMING BRAZILIAN WOOD WHITE-SIDED HILL

it is rather a dull-coloured bird, the prevailing hue being brown.
The nest is shaped something like a hammock, not unlike that
of the lanceolated honey-eater, described and figured on page
136, and is fastened, 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.

'the SA WEILL HUM-MING BIRD. 141

As is the case with the generality of humming birds' nests,
cobwebs 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 profusely stuck on the outside.

There is a very remarkable nest made by one of these birds,
called the Sawbill Humming Bird {Grypus nceinus), 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.

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 visible. 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
virgin 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 rather 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 satisfactorily proved, by the presence of small
beetles in the throat of newly killed birds ; and to judge by
its actions, the hovering flight and frequent stoop Hke that
of the falcon, the bird feeds also on flies and other winged in-
sects.

Although it is necessarily impossible to describe or even
enumerate one tithe of the interesting nests made by humming
birds, I must cursorily mention one or two more of the most
curious examples. One of these birds is the Brazilian Wood

142 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 Rio Janeiro for the purpose
of being made into the beautiful feather flowers which the nuns
manufacture so skilfully. Thousands of these birds are slaugh-
tered 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. More-
over, fortunately for the preservation of the species, the colours
of the female are so dull and sober, that her feathers are of no
value, and she is allowed to escape the fate that befalls the
more brightly coloured male. It is a lively little bird, and
when alarmed utters a hurried 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 luxuriantly 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 patches of flat lichen, so that the whole nest, which
is very long in proportion to its width, may easily escape
detection.

Two diff"erently-shaped specimens are given in the accom-
panying illustration, in order that they may be compared with
each other.

The first in order is that of the Baltimore Oriole ( Yphantes
Baltimore)^ a pretty bird, coloured with orange and black in
bold contrast to each other. Its name is derived, not from
any particular locality, but from the orange and black of its
plumage, those being the heraldic colours of Lord Baltimore,
formerly proprietor of Baltimore. It does not receive the full
calouring until its third year, the orange hues being simply

THE BALTIMORE ORIOLE.

143

yellow at the end of the second year, and having no red in
them until the last moult is completed. So far, indeed, is it
from belonging to any particular locality, that it is spread over
a very wide range of country, inhabiting the whole of America

CRESTED CASSIQUE.

BALTIMORE ORIOLE.

from Canada to Brazil. The Baltimore Oriole goes by many
names ; some, such as Golden Robin and Fire Bird, bemg
in allusion to its plumage, and others, such as Hang-nest

144 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 illus-
tration, which was taken from a nest in my own possession.
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 crushed into a shapeless mass at the bottom of a wine
hamper by a careless servant, and covered with soot and dust,
it has retained 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 archi-
tecture. One of tliese 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 strengthened by horsehairs, some two
feet in length, sewn through and through the fabric. Cow's
hair was also employed for the bottom of the nest, and, like
the walls, was sewn together with long horsehairs.

The same writer remarks, that ' so solicitous is the Baltimore
to procure proper materials for his nest, that in the season of
building, the women in the country are under the necessity
of narrowly watching their threads that may chance to be out
bleaching, and the farmer to secure his young grafts ; as the
Baltimore, finding 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 threatl
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

THE ORCHARD ORIOLE, OR BOB-O'-LINK. 145

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 downwards, 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
individuals having the colours in exactly the same places.
Like the Baltimore Oriole, it is extremely variable in different
stages of its existence, the young male bearing great resem •
blance to the mature 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 ab-
domen ; while the male of the second year has much the same
colours, 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 colour, 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 favourite 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.

146 STRAIN GE DWELLINGS.

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, equalling the
common 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 colour 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 colour, and
extending 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 favoured 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.

The nest of the Crested Cassique is of great length, and, as
may be seen by the illustration, has the entrance hke 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

THE RED-EYED FLYCATCHER. 147

great size, are very conspicuous, as the wind sways them back-
wards and forwards from the bough.

Before leaving the American pensile birds, we must briefly
notice one or two other species. The Flycatchers 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
Flycatcher 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 absurdly bad.

The species which we have now to notice is the Red-Eyed
Flycatcher {Muscicapa olivaced) 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-to m-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 B'lycatcher 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 grasses, 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

L2

r48 STRANGE DWELLINGS,

birds in the following year, and saves them the trouble of build-
ing entire nests of their own. Even the mammalia receive
some benefit from the nest, for the field-mouse often takes pos-
session of it, and rears its young in the pensile cradle.

An allied species, the White-Eyed Flycatcher {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 stmcture 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 is suspended by part of the rim to the bend of a species of
smilax, 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 Flycatcher 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 scolding angrily as soon as a human being approaches
the thicket, and by dashing violently at the intruder with im-
potent rage.

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,
sometimes called the Toddy Bird, a native of several parts of
India, and found in Ceylon.

As may be seen by the frontispiece, 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

THE BAYA SPARROW. 149

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 arbour in which the male sits while
the female incubates her eggs, and sometimes it consists of the
nest and arbour united, producing a most curious effect. This
' arbour,' in fact, serves precisely the same purpose as the sup-
plementary nest of the pinc-pinc and other birds which have
already been described.

The frontispiece represents a group of Baya Sparrows' nests,
taken from a photograph. The photograph was sent to the
Zoological Society by C. Home, Esq., who furnished the follow-
ing valuable account of the mode ofnest-buildihg; it appeared,
together with a lithograph of the tree and nests, in the ' Pro-
ceedings of the Zoological Society, 1869.'

' This morning (July 7, 1865) as T passed our solitary palm
tree {PJmnix dactylifera) in the field, I heard a strange twitter-
ing overhead, and looking u]), saAV such a pretty sight as I shall
never forget.

' In this tree hung some thirty or forty of the elegantly
formed nests of woven grass of the Baya bird, so well known to
all. The heavy storms of May and June had torn away many,
and damaged others so as to render them, as one would think,
past repair. Not so thought the birds, for a party of about sixty
had come to set them all m order.

'These little birds are about the size of a sparrow, and have
yellow in their crests, and are darker about the wings, being
paler below, with shortish tails. The scene in the tree almost
baffles description. Each bird and his mate thought only oi
their own nest. How they selected it I know not, and I should
much like to have seen them arrive. I suppose the sharpest
took the best nests, for they varied much in condition. Of
some of the nests two-thirds remained, whilst others were nearly
blown away. Some of the birds attempted to steal grass from
other nests, but generally got pecked away.

' As the wind was blowing freshly, the nests swung about a
good deal, and it was pretty to see a little bird fly up in a great

ISO STRANGE DWELLINGS.

hurry with a long bit of grass in his beak. He would sit out-
side the nest, holding on by his claws with the grass under them.
He would then put the right end into the nest with his beak,
and the female inside would pull it through and put it out for
him again, and thus the plaiting of the nest went on. All this
was done amidst great chattering, and the birds seemed to think
it great fun. When a piece was used up one would give the
other a peck, and he or she would fly off for more material, the
other sitting quietly till the worker returned. Nests in every
stage of building afforded every position for the bird, who
seemed at home in all of them. The joy, the life, the activity,
and general gaiety of the birds I shall never forget.

'August 1 8. — Noticed to-day how the birds obtained their
grass. The little bird alights at the edge of the high, strong
Seenta grass {Aitdropogon euripctat) with its head down, and
bites through the edge to the exact thickness which it requires.
It then goes higher up on the same blade of grass, and having
considered the length needed, bites through it again. It then
seizes it firmly at the first notch and flies away. Of course the j
strip of grass tears off, and stops at the notch. It then flies 9
away with the grass streaming behind it. As the edge of the
grass is much serrated, the bird has to consider and pass it
through the work the right way.

* In some instances the male continues to build for amuse-
ment after the nest is finished, not only elongating the tubular
entrance, but also making a kind of false nest'

isr

CHAPTER XIV.

PENSILE INSECTS.

The Hymenoptera — The Tatua, or Dutchman's Pipe — Structure and
Shape of its Nest — Firmness of the Walls — Average number of Cells in each
Tier— The Norwegian Wasp — Structure and Locality of its Nest— The
Campanular Wasp and the Northern Wasp— Honey Wasps, the general
characteristics of their Nests — The Myrapetra — Its singular Nest — Struc-
ture of the Walls and use of the Projections — The Nectarinia — Why so
called — Locality of the Nest — Size of the Insect — Ichneumon Flies — Different
species of Microgaster, and their Habitations — The Atlas Moth — The
Housebuilder Moth and its movable Dwelling — The Tiger Moth and
its Hammock — The Barnet Moth and its Cocoon — The Oak Eggar and
Little Eggar Moths — Various Leaf-rollers — Suspended Cocoon — Leaf-
BURROW^ERS 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
asylum 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 artizans when the nests are suspended, and we
shall therefore take them first in order.

In the accompanying illustration may be seen two specimens
of a remarkable pensile nest that is made by a wasp called
Tatua 7noriOy an insect which is notable for having the basal
segment of the abdomen narrowed into long and slender foot-
stalks, not unlike 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 fesemble white cardboard. The general form of
the nest is shown in the engraving, being somewhat like a

152

STRANGE DWELLINGS.

sugarloaf, 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

1

TATtJA MORIO.

to the pipe-bowl celebrated by Washington Irving. The exterior
walls are so hard, 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 which occasionally fall,
having any power over an edifice so vv^ell protected.

THE TATUA MOPIO. 153

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 afiix 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 completely 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 opened 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
tolerable notion of the number of cells in each tier. The aper-
ture is not precisely in the middle, so that some rows of cells
are necessarily larger than others, but I purposely selected a row
which seemed to afford a fair average.

There are also certain British wasps which always make
pensile 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 Britafmica, but which is now named Vespa
Norwegica, and may therefore be called the Norwegian
Wasp.

Of the species in question Mr. Smith remarks that it is rare
in the South and West of England, but is not uncommon in
V^orkshire and plentiful in Scotland. It seems to be a nocturnal
insect, for a collector of lepidoptera found that when 'sugaring'

154 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 at-
tempts at dislodgment.

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 favourites. A pretty specimen in my 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, arranged 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 wasp itself is prettily marked, and although it is variable
in colouring, can be recognised by the black anchor-shaped
mark on the clypeus, and the squared black spot on the seg-
ments of the abdomen.

Another species of British Tree Wasp is the Campanular
Wasp {Vespa sylvestris), a species which has received a multi-
tude of scientific names, but which is not variable in colour as
that which has just been mentioned. Though it has a wider
distribution than the Norwegian Wasp, it is scarcely so plentiful
an insect, and is remarkable for an occasional habit of making
a subterranean nest like that of the common wasp. The
Northern Wasp (Vespa horealis or arbo?'ea), 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 sub-
terranean brethren by the colour 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.

HONEY-MAKING WASPS.

155

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
remarkable for their honey-making powers.

NECTARINIA.

MYRAPETRA.

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.

r56 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 completion, 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 en-
gaged in this occupation, he made a vast collection of notes
upon the native tribes of Paraguay, as well as upon the beasts,
birds, insects, and vegetation, together with an account of the
method by which the Jesuit missionaries 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
penetrate into unknown countries. His statements were not
believed, and among those which raised the greatest discredit
was an account of certain wasps which made honey. Some per-
sons 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, how-
ever, had its usual effect, and De Azara has been proved to be
perfectly trustworthy in his remarks. The two specimens which
are represented in the illustration are now in the British Museum,
and afford 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 scutellaris.

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 colour it is dark, dull, blackish-brown, and its texture some*
what resembles very vow^ 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 accounts of the natives, who say that it is made from
the dung of the capincha, one of the aquatic cavies of tropical
America.

THE MYRAPETRA SCUTELLARIS. 157

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
felidae and other honey and grub-loving mammalia. Such may
mdeed 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 expknation is not in store, and I cannot 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 defenceless.

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
concealed under a row of projections, which overhang them
Uke 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
itself. The nest is filled with combs, all very much curved, and
these curves accommodating themselves beautifully to the gene-
ral 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

158 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 attached, 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 downwards.

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 longest
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 colour. 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 speci-
men. The length of the nest is sixteen inches, and its diameter
in the widest 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, Polistes Licheguana, a native of Brazil, was dis-
covered by M. St. Hilaire, who mentions that it lays up in the
nest a large provision of honey, which is very injurious to man-
kind, on account of the poisonous plants from which it is taken.
Polistes 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 aUied to
the genus Bibio^ and the remains of a neuropterous insect, which
apparently belongs to the genus Henurobius.

I

THE NECTARINIA AN A LIS. 159

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 colour, and is remarkable for
having the first joint of the abdomen very much lengthened and
narrowed, so that it sometimes resembles the same organ in the
Pelopaeus.

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
vegetation 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 Nedarinia
analis^ a title which is significant and appropriate enough, but
which is rather unfortunate, inasmuch as it has already been
applied 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 brilHant plumage,
their slender 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 included under a single covering. In the specimen in
the British Museum, the outer wall of the nest has been broken
away in several places, so as to permit the combs to be seen.

The entrance for the insects is very small, and when the
respective dimensions of the wasp and the nest are taken into
consideration, 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.

i6o STRANGE DWELLINGS.

The wasp which makes this nest is bee-Hke 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.

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 cannot but think that this utterly defenceless state of the
Nectarinia's nest affords a proof that the spikes upon the habi-
tation 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
immediately soak into the walls of the cell, and thence escape by
slow degrees, but as the young grub, which is the only tenant
of the cell, is without feet and is not in the least formed foi
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 immo-
bility in the larval and pupal states affords a strange contrast to
the restless and fussy activity which actuates it after it han
attained its perfect form.

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

THE BURNET ICHNEUMON. i6i

among the pensiles. This is the pretty little ichneumon which
is known to entomologists as Microgasfer 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 consideration.

With regard to this insect, I have been rather fortunate,
having found many specimens of the nests, and bred from them
several hundred insects.

Although plentiful enough in certain places, the Burnet
Ichneumon, as I shall venture to call this species, is very local,
and 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
popular name of Burnet Ichneumon, for the same reason — com-
paring great things with small — that Caius Martins bore the
title of Coriolanus 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 colour, 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
capital letter Q does to the whole of the letter. The limbs are

M

i62 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

long, and, when the size of the insect is considered, are singu-
larly powerful, 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.
Minute 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, there-
fore, 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 ^g<g. If so, the feeHngs of the caterpillar are
not to be envied, for I have found nearly a hundred and fifty
ichneumon larvae in the body of a single caterpillar. No wonder
that the persecuted being endeavours to fling ofl" the creature
that is inflicting so many wounds. The numerous short and
bristle-like hairs with which the legs are thickly clad, are doubt-
less useful in retaining the hold of the insect.

Our last example of the pensile nests formed by the hymen-
optera is a tnily remarkable one. For some time 1 could

POLISTES.

[63

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 locahty which is chosen

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NESTS OF POMSTES.

for it, and the peculiar method by which it is attached to the
branch, I have decided upon placing it among the pensile nests.
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

i64 STRANGE DWELLINGS,

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.

Some of the cells, those in the middle for example, are much
longer than the others, and in the specimens in the British
Museum many of them are closed at the mouth, showing that
the insect 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 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. This group of cells is copied from
the specimen in the British Museum, but ought to have been
reversed, so that the mouths of the cells hang downwards. The
observer should notice the wonderful manner in which the
balance is preserved, the footstalk occupying as nearly as pos-
sible the centre of gravity.

The footstalks are made of the same papier-m&che like sub-
stance as the cells, only the layers are so tightly compressed
together that they form a hard, solid mass, very much like the
little 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.

We now come to the pensile lepidoptera, of which a number
of specimens will be mentioned. They all belong to the moths j

THE ATLAS MOTH.

165

the pensile butterflies being content with suspending themselves
by a couple of threads, without taking the trouble to build or
spin a nest.

OIKETICUS AND ATLAS MOTH.

On the right hand of the accompanying illustration may be
seen a large moth flying downwards, 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),

i66 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 of this country, and is a truly splendid insect, though
without the beautiful colours which decorate the emperor.
Creamy white, soft yellow, and pale brown are the chief 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 coloured lepidoptera of its own country.

There are many members of this genus scattered over the
different parts of the earth, the finest and largest specimens
being found between the tropics. In all the species the antennae
of the males are remarkable for their beauty, being deeply
feathered, and shaped something like a spear-head with a trian-
gular blade, and in many examples there is a loose mem
branous 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
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.

We now pass to the second insect represented in the illustra-
tion. This is the House builder Moth {Oiketicus Sandersii),
an insect which is common in many parts of the West Indies,
in several places being so plentiful that the sight of its long
pendent domiciles is anything but pleasant to the proprietor
of a garden.

Out of five species of insects belonging to this singular genus,
tne present has been selected, because on the whole its habita-
tion 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, taking pieces of slender twigs and forming
tliem into hollow cylinders, the twigs bein^ laid parallel to each

THE HOUSE-BUILDER MOTH. 167

other, very much Hke the rods in the old Roman fasces, which
were borne by the Hctors 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 pro-
trudes from its mouth and the other part is hidden. This atti-
tude 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 mate-
rials which are used, and they are bound together very firmly
by the silken threads with which so many caterpillars are en-
dowed, whether they belong to the butterflies or moths. There
is a tolerable 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 cater-
pillar 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, 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
overcome. The female never leaves her cell, for she would be

i68 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

more helpless as a moth than as a caterpillar. Among the British
moths we have several species in which the females are wing-
less, but at all events they do look like moths which have been
deprived of wings, and are able to move about with tolerable
freedom. Of these wingless females, the common Vapourer
moth ( Orgyia antiqua), is a familiar example, its fat, rounded
abdomen and little truncated rudiments of wings being known
<o all collectors.

But the female House-builder Moth is as utterly helpless a
being as can well be conceived. She has not the least vestige
of wings, and but the smallest indications of legs or antennae.
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 antennae that merely consist of a
few rounded joints, entirely unlike the beautiful feathered
plumes which decorate the male.

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 {Arctia caja), whose scarlet,
white, and brown robes are so familiar to every one who cares
for insects, 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
a considerable height without suffering any injury, and in all
probability their formidable appearance serves to deter foes from
meddling with it.

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

THE BURNET MOTH. 169

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 large, 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
chrysalis 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 motded split peas
rather than the beautiful members which they soon become,
when the air has passed into their vessels, and their multitu-
dinous folds have been shaken out.

Among the pensile insects may be reckoned the beautiful
Burnet Moth {Anthrocera filipendtdm)^ an insect which has
already been mentioned, while treating of the pensile
hymenoptera.

This insect, which is well known for its splendid colours of
deep velvet green, and blazing scarlet, is also notable for the
shape of its antennae, which are so swollen towards 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 perpen-
dicularly, and fastened to the upper part of a grass stem, one side
being firmly pressed against it. The substance of the cocoon
is quite opaque, greyish, 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 the 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.

I70 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

The handsome Oak Egger Moth {Gasiropacha quercus)
affords another example of the pensile cocoon. Of these insects
also I have had great numbers ; and some specimens of the
moth, chrysalis, and cocoon are now before me, the cocoon un-
changed 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.

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 v/hich it hangs ; but the cocoon itself is smooth, very much
the colour of half-charred paper, and in spite of its brittleness is
possessed of some elasticity.

There is a smaller insect, popularly called the Little Egger
Moth {Eriogaster la?iestris), which spins a cocoon of a similar
structure, except that the walls are of even harder and more
uniform 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 inhabitant, it is perforated with one or two very
tiny and very circular 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 ob-
ject 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
excluded, I believe that there are none of these holes in the

LEAF-ROLLERS.—THE OAK MOTH. 17:

cocoon of the large Oak Egger Moth, and if there be any such
perforations, they are so minute as to escape notice.

We now pass to the enormous variety of caterpillars whicti
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 dis-
play a wonderful variety in their modes of performing aii
apparently simple task. Some bend the leaf longitudinally, and
merely fasten the two edges together, while others bend it trans-
versely, fixing the point to the middle nervure. Some roll it
longitudinally, so as to make a hollow cylinder corresponding
with the entire length of the leaf, while others roll it transversely
so that the cylinder 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,
who finds the leaves of his favourite trees curled up and per-
manently 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.

One of the most common among the Leaf-rollers is the pretty
Oak Moth {Tortrix viridana). It is a little creature with four
rather wide delicate wings, the upper pair of a soft leaf green,
and the under pair of a greyish hue. In some seasons, the
moths, or rather their larvae, are so plentiful that great damage
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
parenchyma of the leaf, and being ensconced within their 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

172 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

pushed into one end of the leafy cyHnder, the caterpillar hastily
' bundles ' out of the other — there is no other word which so
fully expresses the peculiar action of the larva — and lowers itself
towards 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
produced by tapping the branches of oak trees with a stick. As
the 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 drop-
ping in little jerks of an inch or two each. Some of them are
more timid than the others, and descend nearly to the ground,
but the general mass of them remains at about the same height.
Another tap will cause them all to drop a foot or two lower, the
stroke being felt even at the end of the suspending thread, and
by administering a succession of such taps they will all be in-
duced to come to the ground. There they will wait a consider-
able time, but presently one of them will begin to reascend,
working its way upwards 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 bloAving, 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 violently blown about by the wind.

At the proper season of year, the moths are as plentiful as
the larvae, and a shake with the hand will cause a whole cloud
of the green creatures to issue forth, producing a strangely con-

THE LILAC MOTH. 173

fused effect to the eye as they flutter about with an uncertain
and devious flight. A sweep with an ordinary entomological
net will capture 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 Daren th Wood, the
heavy growth of oaks giving them every encouragement.

The insect which commits such devastation on the lilacs is
generally the little chocolate-coloured moth called the Lilac
Moth {Lazotcenia ribeana), though there are other allied species
which infest the same plant. Anyone may see the damaged
leaves for 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
caterpillar, 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 consummation 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 operation which is precisely similar to the nautical method
of * bowsing * up a rope. In order to ' bowse ' a rope taut, two
men are employed, one of them pulling the nearly tightened

174 STRANGE DWELLINGS,

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 ' being performed by its feet, and the belaying by its
spinneret. By thus hauling at, and tightening each line in suc-
cession, the caterpillar 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 cyHnder, 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
nature, and that it is achieved by the vvell-known principle of
exchanging space and time for power. Although the caterpillar
cannot by any exertion of strength roll up the leaf in one
minute, it is enabled to do so by dividing the work into a multi-
tude of parts, and taking much longer time about it, just as a
man who cannot lift a single weight of a thousand pounds may
do so with ease by dividing it into ten parts, and in conse-
quence, by taking up a considerable time in lifting the separate
parts.

Again, in the silken bands which hold the rolled 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. The threads themselves are exceedingly elastic,
and by their combined force aid the caterpillar in rolling the
leaf.

As soon as the caterpillar has entered its new home, it begins
to feed, eating the green substance of the leaf, and generally
leaving 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

LEAF MINERS.

175

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 wind-
ing marks, that look something like the rivers upon a map, and
having 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

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through the leaf in which they pass their larval state. In most
cases, when the insect 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 frequently, especially in deeply-cut leaves, it follows

176 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

the outline, keeping to the edge, and not trenching at all on
the central portions.

Insects belonging to three orders are known to make these
curious habitations.; namely, the Lepidoptera, the Coleoptera,
and the Diptera. Of these, the Lepidoptera are by far the most
numerous, 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 recognised 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.

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 belongs to the genus Cionus, which in their larval con-
dition are not only leaf-miners, but weavers of certain beautiful
pensile cocoons.

Of the Diptera, the Celery Fly {Tephritis ojiopordinis) 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 colour 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 leaf until it has
finished its eating, and then descends 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-
nida, being formed by several species of spiders.

THE GARDEN SPIDER. 177

The best known of these creatures is the common Garden
Spider {Epeira diadcma), sometimes called the Geometric
Spider, 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
framework of very strong threads or ropes, and then spinning
the net itself between them. Very great strength is thus ob-
tained, for the threads are exceedingly elastic ; so that, al-
though stretched tolerably 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.

These spiders have, moreover, a most singular plan of
strengthening their web, when the wind is more than or-
dinarily violent. If they find that the wind stretches their
nets to a dangerous extent, 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 ordinary 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
ot 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 verandah,
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 ra-
diating and the spiral lines is quite distinct, as may be seen by
applying a microscope of moderate power. The radiating

N

178 STRANGE DWELLINGS,

lines are smooth and not very elastic, whereas the spiral line is
thickly studded with minute knobs, and is elastic to a wonderful
degree, reminding the observer of a thread of India-rubber.
So elastic, indeed, is this Une, 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 required length. This,
however, is only an optical delusion, and caused by the great
elasticity of the thread, which can accommodate itself to the
space which it is required to cross.

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 surface, 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 beyond a doubt, spiders have been con-
fined in total darkness, and yet have spun webs which were as
true and as perfect as those which are made in daylight.

A PECULIARLY bcautiful pensile cocoon is constructed by a
common British spider, scientifically temied Agelena brunnea,
but which has no popular name.

The species whose beautiful nest will now be described is
generally to be found upon commons, especially where gorse is
abundant, as it generally hangs its nest to the prickly leaves of
that shrub. The cocoon is shaped rather like a wine glass,
and is always hung with the mouth downwards, 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
after the spider has deposited her eggs, which are quite

COCOONS CONSTRUCTED BY SPIDERS. ijf)

spherical, and about forty or fifty in number, she closes the
mouth of the cocoon and proceeds to daub it all over with
mud. The moistened 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 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 other 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
silken bag, perfectly white in colour, and, except in size, some-
what resembling that of the preceding species. It is only
when quite freshly made, that the white hue of the cocoon is
visible ; for after its completion, it is covered with scraps of
dry leaves, bark, earth, and other substances. Jf, 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 contain a very variable quantity
of pale yellow, spherical eggs, sometimes 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

r8o STRANGE DWELLINGS.

CHAPTER XV.

BUILDERS.

Building Mammalia— Definition of the title — Inferiority of the mammalia ai
architects— The Brush-tailed Bettong — Its structure and colour— llie
Nest of the Bettong, and its adaptation to the locality — Singular method ol
conveying materials — Its nocturnal habits — 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 ol killing the
animal.

We now take our leave of the Pensiles, and pass to those animals
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 houses. In making
burrows they far excel all the other vertebrates both in the
length of the tunnels and in the elaborate arrangement of the
subterranean domicile. The mole, for example, is pre-eminent
as a burro wer 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.

The first example of the Building Mammalia is the Pencilled
Bettong {Betfofigia pencillatd)^ 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 smdll kangaroos that are easily recognised by the shape of

THE BRUSH-TAILED BETTONG, i8i

their heads, which 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 m
consequence 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 pencillings on the brown back, the grey-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
contain the animal, and yet small enough to escape observation,
appears to be almost impossible. The Bettong, however, sets
about its task by examining the ground until it finds a mode-
rately 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 neighbouring herbage, and being very
similar to it in external appearance. Grass of a suitable length
cannot always be obtained close to the nest, and the Bettong
is therefore obliged to convey it from a distance. This 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 Macropidae of
Australia, 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 care-
ful to close the entrance whenever she leaves her home, pulling
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

1 8a STRANGE DWELLINGS.

hovvever, 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.

Our second and last example of the Building Mammalia is
the Musquash, or Ondatra of North America {Fiber Zibethicus\
sometimes called the Musk Rat.

This animal might have been placed among the burrowers,
for it is quite as good an excavator as many which have been
described 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 from the surrounding soil. It is seen to the best
advantage in the water, where it swims and dives with consum
mate 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 upwards, 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

THE MUSQUASH. 183

sailors kill dolphins and porpoises, the native steals up to the
house, and driving his formidable weapon through the walls, is
sure to transfix 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.
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. AH the roots had been dug
out of tlie soil, and the maize had been bitten off close to the
ground. The Musquash is not a large animal, the length of its
head and body beinp; only fourteen inches.

i«4 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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
chambers — The Pied Grallina — The specimens at the Zoological Gardens
— Materials and form of the nest — Boldness of the Bird — The Song Thrush
and its nest — The Blackbird and its clay-hned nests — Supposed reasons for
the lining — The Fairy Martin — Locality, shape, and materials of the
nest— Social habits of the bird— How the nest is built— The House Martin
— Material of its nest — Favourite localities — Ingenuity of the Martin —
Adaptation to circumstances — The Swallow — Distinction between its nest
and that of the Martin — Why called the Chimney Swallow.

Among the building birds, there is one species which is pre
eminently chief. Not only is there no equal, but there is no
second. This is the Oven Bird {Furnarius fidiginosus)^ which
derives 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.
It is about as large as a lark, and is a bold-looking bird, rather
slenderly built, and standing very upright. Its colour 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 flittings 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 female 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

THE OVEN BIRD.

185

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 of the sun is sufficient to harden it, and when it has been
thoroughly dried, it is so strong that it seems more like the

OVEN BIRD.

handiwork of some novice at pottery than a veritable nest con-
structed by a bird, the fierce heat of the tropical sun baking the
clay nearly as hard as brick.

The ordinary shape of the nest may be seen by reference to
the illustration, which is drawn from a remarkably fine speci-

f86 STRANGE DWELLINGS,

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 seems strong enough to bear rolling about on the ground.
This specimen was placed on a branch, but the bird is not very
particular 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 bushes, but without any attempt at concealment.
Owing to its dimensions and shape, the nest is extremely con-
spicuous, 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 further strengthened by a
peculiarity 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 materials 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 chamber 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 instances 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 labour rather long and severe, as they are continually
employed in fetching clay, grass, and other materials, or in
working them together with tlieir 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 giveh in the accompanying illustration.

The first of these feathered builders is the Pied Grallina
{Grallifm Australis), a bird which has become familiar to the

THE PIED GRALLINA.

187

public since its introduction to the Zoological Gardens. A pair
of 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 dab-

FAIRY MAKI

PIED GRALLINA.

chicks, kingfishers, wagtails, and other water-loving birds.
Owing to the bold contrasts of black and white in their colour-
ing they are very conspicuous, and their restless movements
always attract the eye.

i88 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

Although in its shape the nest of the Pied Grallina does not
resemble that of the Oven Bird, the materials with which it is
constructed are almost identical, consisting of mud and clay, in
which are interwoven certain sticks, grasses, feathers, and stem?
of plants, which serve to bind the clay together, just as cow's
hair binds together the plaster on our walls.

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 an
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 fnusiais),
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 whereas the latter bird incorporates the sticks
and straws with the mud, the Thrush works the cup upon the
sticks and straws.

The Blackbird (Turdus inerula)^ 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

THE FAIRY MARTIN. jg^

prevent the weasel or stoat from tearing the nest away from
below, and so catching the young birds, but this is mere conjec-
ture. Even the muddy Hning does not repel all such attacks,
for I once knew a dog 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 bottom, and receiving the contents in his mouth.

The curious flask-shaped nests which are seen m the illustra-
tion are built wholly of clay and mud, and are made by a
beautiful litde Australian bird, named the Fairy Martin
[Hinmdo 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. Sometimes, 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 protection of human habitations.

The shape of the nests always resembles that of a flask or
retort, and their size is extremely variable, the length of the
spouts, or necks, being from seven to ten inches, and the dia*
ameter 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, arranging 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
becomes 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

I90 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

the heat of the sunbeams soon renders the clay too stiff to be
worked by the delicate beaks of the birds ; and, therefore, in
the middle of the day, the Fairy Martins cease from their
architectural labours, 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 continually at their nests, and
soon complete their labours.

The exterior of the nest is quite as rough as that of the
common 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 towards which the entrance
looks, but arrange it indifferently in any direction.

The Fairy Martin is a proHfic little bird, laying four or five
eggs, and rearing two broods in a year.

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 Martin, for there are some points which it clearly detests,
while it is equally fond of others. A wall with a north-eastern
aspect is a favourite locality, while a southern wall is seldom
chosen, probably 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 this general
rule, for the Martins have chosen to build on the south wall
only, probably because the eaves project so far that after nine
A.M. the nests are in shadow. Moreover, there is a narrow
ledge, barely an inch in width, which runs under the eaves, and
forms a support for the nests. While the Martins were engaged

THE HOUSE MARTIN AND SWALLOW. 191

in bringing up their young, I ascended to the nests, and in-
spected 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 exterior. The young birds were
quite as much alarmed as their parents, 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 preter-
naturally ugly substance called ' rough -cast,' with which the
walls of houses are sometimes disfigured. The material of
which the Martin makes its nests 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 build-
ing 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 ot
their labours. 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 neighbouring spot.

The common Swallow {Hirundo rustica) also makes a clay-
built nest, similar in many respects to that of the martin, but
differing in its shape. The nest of the martin is always covered,
and entered by an aperture on one side. Mostly it is built
immediately under a projecting ledge, which answers the pur
pose 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

ig2 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

Swallow, on the contrary, is open at the top, probably because
the long forked tail would be crushed if pressed info 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, however, 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
martin.

\

193

CHAPTER XVII.

BURRO WING BIRDS— {continued)

Nesting of the Hornbills— Dr. Livingstone's account of the Korwe, or Red-
breasted HoRNBFLL— 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 —
The Lyre Bird — Origin of its name — Its domed nest — The Albert's
Lyre Bird and its habits— The Bower Bird— Why so called— Civilisation
and social amusement— The remarkable bower — Its materials and mode of
construction — Use to which it is put — The Bower Birds in the Zoological
Gardens, and their habits — Love of ornament — Meaning of the scientific
name.

Two groups of large-billed birds are remarkable for their habit
of nesting in hollow trees, and plastering up the entrance during
the time of incubation. These are the Toucans of America
and the Hornbills of Africa. We will take the latter birds as
samples. The following interesting account of the Hornbill
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 Korw^ {Tockus
erythrorhynchus) in their hiding-places, which were in holes m
the mopane-tree. On the iQth (February) we passed the nest
of a Korwe, just ready for the female to enter; the orifice was
plastered on both sides, but a space was left of a heart shape,
and exactly the size of the bird's body. The hole in the tree
was in every case found to be prolonged some distance upwards
above the opening, and thither the Korw^ always fled to escape
being caught. In another nest we found that one white egg,
much like that of the pigeon, 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

o

194 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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
Korwd.' 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 gene-
rally 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 lowering of the temperature, which sometimes hap-
pens after a fall of rain, he is benumbed, falls down, and dies.
I never had an opportunity of ascertaining the exact length of
the confinement, but on passing the same tree at Kolobeng
about eight days afterwards, 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 young are fully fledged, at
the period when the com is ripe ; indeed, her appearance
abroad with her young, is one of the signs they have for know-
ing 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 some-
times to hatch two eggs, and when the young of these are fuU-
dedged, other two are just out of the egg-shells : she then

THE LONG-TAILED TLTMOUSE. 195

leaves the nest with the two elder, the orifice is again plastered
up, and both male and female attend to the wants of the young
which are left.'

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 Bower
birds of Australia.

The Long-tailed Titmouse {Partis 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
number, and the exceeding restlessness of its character, is very
familiar to all observers of nature. These flocks generally con-
sist of the parents 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. Fortunately for ourselves, the Long-tailed Tit-
mouse is very fond of the various saw-flies, that work such mis-
chief among our fruit trees, and often lay waste whole acres of
gooseberries, and it is no exaggeration to say that to a possessor
of an orchard, or a fruit garden of any kind, every Long-tailed
Titmouse is well worth its little weight in gold.

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.

196

STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 up its garrulous chirp soon after daybreak. At that hour
of the morning the Long-tailed Titmouse seems to cast off fear
and diffidence, and allows itself to be watched without display-

THE LONG-TAILED TITMOUSE.

ing much alarm. Indeed, with the aid of a good opera-glass, it
may be observed 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 confidence, and will not suffer itself to be approached so
closely as in the early morning. Generally, somewhere about

THE LONG-TAILED TITMOUSE. 197

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 indepen-
dent 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
notice 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,
darting from branch to branch and tree to tree as if they were
httle 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 further 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, through which the birds can pass. I believe that all domed
nests, whether of bird or beast, are constructed by at least two
architects, 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

198 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

made are mosses of various kinds, wool, hair, and similar sub-
stances, woven by them with great firmness. It is remarkable
that in the construction of this nest, which requires pcculiai
solidity, the Long-tailed Titmouse uses materials like those
which are employed by the humming birds, and bmds its nest
together with the webs of spiders, and the silken hammocks of
various caterpillars. The exterior of the nest is covered with
lichens, so that the whole edifice looks very much like a natural
excrescence upon the 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 stmcture 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
tlie 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 locality. If the finger be introduced into the aperture, a
charmingly soft and warm bed of downy feathers is felt, i7i
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 foli-
age dense. The gorse bush is a favourite residence of the
Long-tailed Titmouse, ^.nd so deeply is the nest buried in the
prickly branches, that it cannot be removed without the aid of
thick leather gloves, and a sharp, strong knife. Some skill and
artistic taste are rec^uired 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 cannot be seen for their luxuriance.

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. They are so small and so fragile that the novice finds
great difficulty 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 enveloped in repeated wrappers of silver paper, soaked in a

THE MAGPIE. 199

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 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 contents into the tube, the egg will soon be
emptied. The paper is removed by soaking in warm water.

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 caudata).

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 cannot 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 sub-
stances, but the framework 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. Moreover, the bird has a way of
gathering the thorns round the entrance, 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 cannot
be accomplished without the aid of a knife.

Besides the thorny defence, the nest is mostly strengthened
by 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.

STRANGE DWELLINGS.

The position of the nest, too, conceals its true form so well,
that a very practised eye is needed to distinguish it from an
ordinary swelling of the bough, or from the heaps of dislodged
twigs which are so often found in the forked branches of trees.

Another oi our feathered dome-builders is the common
Wren {Troglodytes vulgaris). The form and colouring 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 ot 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, it&
loud, cheerful voice is heard in full perfection, and so full and
powerful 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 repeating nearly the same melody time after time within a
few minutes. The long-drawn song of the nightingale, or the
mellow notes of 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 pecu-
liar 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 displaying the least
alarm.

As to the materials of the nest, the bird is no way fasti-
dious, and generally seems to regard quantity rather tlian
quality. Grasses of various kinds usually form the bulk of the

THE LYRE BIRD.

nest, together 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 dimensions of the tiny architect are taken into con-
sideration, 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 always warmly lined, sometimes with
feathers, and sometimes with hair, and in the lining are gene-
rally some six or eight little eggs, nearly white, and covered
with very minute red specks.

As is the case with the redbreast and one or two of our more
familiar birds, the Wren will sometimes enter houses and build
its nest in curtains, on shelves, and similar localities, while the
interior of a disused greenhouse or stable loft is nearly sure to
be tenanted by a Wren and its little brood.

Australia is proverbially a strange land, and it is only in
Australia, or perhaps in Madagascar, that v.'e should look for a
wren measuring some seventeen inches in height. Such a bird
is, however, to be found in Australia, and is known to the natives
by the name of Bttllen-Bullen, and to the Europeans as the
Lyre Bird {Mcnura superhd). 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, and 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 re-
semble 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

STRANGE DWELLINGS.

rest, the tail-feathers cross each other at the curves, and pre-
sent a very elegant appearance, though not in the least
resembling a lyre. In general shape the bird bears some re-
semblance 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 archi-
tecture, composed almost wholly of twigs, roots, and various
sticks, which are interwoven in a very loose, but very ingenious
manner, so as to form a structure of tolerable firmness, which
can be lifted and even subjected 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 in-
spection shows that there is a certain regularity in the disposi-
tion of the sticks, and that the bird is not without method,
though that method be not at first apparent.

Our last example of the Building Birds will be the well-
known Bower Bird of Australia {Ptilonorhynchus holosericms).

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 progress in civilisation, even among human races. The
savage, pure and simple, has no notion of undergoing more
labour than can be avoided, and thinks that setting his wives to
build a hut is quite as much labour 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 labour. The
Bushman has no place of resort, neither has the much farther

THE BOWER BIRD.

203

advanced Zulu Kafir. Even the New Zealander, who is the
most favourable example of a savage, does not erect a building
merely for the purpose of amusement, and would perhaps fail to

THE BOWER BIRD.

comprehend that such an edifice could be needed. Such a task
is left to tjie civiHsed races, and it is somewhat startling to find
that in erecting a ball-room, or an assembly room, or any similar

204 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 ball-room, or ' bower,' which this bird builds is a very
remarkable 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
Zoological Gardens, and I have often been much interested in
seeing the bird engaged in its labours.

Whether it works smartly or not in its native land I cannot
say, but it certainly does not hurry itself in this country. It
begins 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 nearly succeeded. It then looks for some long and
rather slender twigs, and pushes their bases into the platform,
working them tightly into its substance, and giving them such
an inward inclination 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 platform 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 beheve 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

THE BOWER BIRD. 203

had attracted me. Soon, it was evident that this was a Bower
Bird engaged in building the assembly-room, and after a little
while he became reconciled to my presence, and proceeded
with his work. He went about it in a leisurely and reflective
manner, taking plenty of time over his work, and disdaining to
hurry himself

First he would go off to the further 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.
Perhaps he would repeat tliis process six or seven times with
the same twig, and then suddenly pounce on anotlier, weigh it
once or twice in his beak, and carry it off". When he reached
the bower he still kei)t up his leisurely character, for he would
perambulate 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, however, the twig was fixed, and then he would run
through the bower several times, utter his loud cry, and start
ofl" for another twig.

Ornament is also employed by the Bower Bird, both entrances
of the bower being decorated with 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 conspicuous. Scraps of coloured 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 portable object, they always search the bowers of the
neighbourhood, and frequently find that the missing article is
doing duty as decoration 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 colouring. His plumage is a rich, deep purple, so deep
indeed as to appear black when the bird is standing in the

2o6 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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
(jreek 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 coloured in a similar manner.

207

CHAPTER XVIII.

BUILDING INSECTS.

fhe Termite, or White Ant— General habits of the insect— African Termites
and their homes — Termites as articles of food— American Termites — Mr.
Bates account of their habits — European Termites — Their ravages in France
and Spain— M. de Quatrefages and his history of the Termites of Rochefort
and La Rochelle— The Trypoxylon of South America— The Pelopceus
and its curious nest— 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 Agricultural 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 that erect habitations
which are truly wonderful, but there is not one that approaches
the Termite in the size of its building or the stone-like solidity
of the structure.

The history of the Termites is so complicated, and so full of
incident, 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 species 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

^ob STRANGE DWELLINGS.

insect, 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
divided 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 flat, the antennae short, and the
mandibles flattened and toothed, and in most cases extremely
long and formidable. Each colony is founded by a single pair,
popularly called the king and queen, the rest of the population
consisting of developed males and females, which are intended
to perpetuate the species and found fresh colonies, and of un-
developed 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 as the
workers. They are formidable creatures, but they can do little
harm beyond inflicting a severe bite, as they are not furnished
widi stings nor even with poison glands. They can bite through
the clothes of an 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 defence of the
nest ] for whenever the walls are broken down the soldiers come
trooping out to attack 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
form a colony, they share the fate of certain Oriental potentates,
and never move out of their royal cell. When the queen is
fairly settled, she increases in size so rapidly, that, even if she
were set at liberty, she could not crawl an inch. While the
head, thorax, and legs retain their original dimensions, the abdo-
men 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

THE TERMITE, OR WHITE ANT. 209

workers, who have reserved certain apertures in the royal apart-
ment through which they can easily pass. When the eggs are
hatched, the young are carefully watched and tended until they
are at last developed into males, females, or neuters, and them-
selves 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 essen-
tially conical, a large cone occupying the centre, and smaller
cones being grouped round it, Hke pinnacles round a Gothic
spire.

In Anderson'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
circumference of a hundred feet, and that when the insects were
developed 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 ex-
terior. 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 labours 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 traveller 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 flavoured
than those which our fields produce.

The natives have another motive for looking after the Termite
nests, because they eat the inmates, considering them to be a
peculiar luxury. The same author whom I. have already men-
tioned, describes a curious interview that he had with Palani, a

p

STRANGE DWELLINGS.

Bayeiye chief. Wishing to show the chief the superiority of
European cookery, Mr. Anderson 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 flavour. In order to catch the Termites in
sufficient numbers, the native makes a hole in the nest, and
when the workers are congregated for the purpose of repairing
the breach, he sweeps them into a vessel, and repeats the opera-
tion 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
escaping 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 singular organs are shed by being bent sharply for-
wards. If a living Termite be caught, and its wings pressed
forward with a pin, they will instantly snap off; but if bent
backwards, a piece of the body will be torn away before the
wings can be removed.

As to the Termites of 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 abstract 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

THE TERMITE, OR WHITE ANT.

in the earth, the subterranean galleries being proportionately
large to the superimposed nest. Indeed, the greater part of the
material with which the walls and galleries are built is brought
from below and carried upwards through the nest itself There
is no visible outlet to a Termite's nest, because the insects
construct long galleries through which they can pass without
suffering inconvenience from the light of day. Both the workers
and soldiers are blind ; but, in spite of the absence of external
visual organs, they are very sensitive to light, and avoid it in
every possible way.

The food of the Termite is of a vegetable character, and
consists mostly of wooden fibres. They will, however, eat
through almost anything, and the traveller 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 furniture, 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.

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. Rochefort, Saintes,

212 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

and Tournay-Charente have for some years suffered from the
ravages 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 which they had
penetrated, and thence spread into the country around. Efforts
are being made towards 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 neighbouring houses are the prin^
cipal 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 bottom, 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 recently repaired, galleries made by the Termites which
looked like stalactites, and which had begun to show them-
selves 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 galleries 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
Rochelle 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
cuiious instances of this mode of construction. Thus, foi

{

THE TERMITE, OR WHITE ANT. 213

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 wrapped round a bottle, the
contents of a pot of honey, &c.

'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 niischief which this insect
silently accomplishes. One day it was discovered that the
archives of the Department were almost totally destroyed,
and that without the slightest external trace of any damage.
The Termites had reached the boxes in which these docu-
ments were preserved by mining the wainscoting ; and they
had then leisurely set to work to devour these administrative
records, carefully respecting the upper sheets and the mar-
gin 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 band-
box.

Besides the species which were investigated by M. de
Quatrefages, there are others in the south of France, and
in Sardinia and Spain. One species, Termes flavicollis, 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 the work preclude a very lengthened
account of any one creature, our history of the Termites must
here be concluded, although much interesting matter remains
unwritten.

In the accompanying illustration are figured the nests of two
insects, both of them natives of tropical America, and both
belonging to the hymenopterous order. The upper insect is

214

STRANGE DWELLINGS.

known to entomologists by the name of Trypoxyloii 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 neatly turned over, that the observer is irre-

TRYPOXYI.ON AND PELOP^US.

sistibly 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 verandahs, and builds therein whole rows of cells, buzzing
loudly the while, and attracting attention by the noise which
it makes.

The lower insect is the pretty PelopcBiis fistularis^ with its

IVASP NESTS. 215

yellow and black banded body. Both the insects, as well as
their houses, are represented of the natural size.

The cell of the Pelopaeus is larger than that of the preceding
insect, and occupies much more time in the construction, a week
at least being devoted to the task. She sets to work very
methodically, taking a long time in kneading the clay, which
she rolls into Httle 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 can be conceived. Like many other solitary
hymenoptera, this Pelopaeus stores her nest with spiders, and
any one would suppose 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.

There is in the British Museum a most extraordinary series
of wasps' nests, built by the insects under the superintendence
of the late Mr. Stone, whose death is a serious loss to all zoo-
logists. The story of these nests is very remarkable, and
shows how much we have to learn concerning the habits and
instincts of insects.

In the month of August, 1862, a nest of the common Wasp
( Vespa germaiiica) was taken near Brighthampton, and handed
over to Mr. Stone, who has long been in the habit of experi-
menting upon these insects.

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 ingress and egress through a hole in the back.

About three hundred of the workers were then collected,

2i6 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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, beside 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
introduce a supply of sugar.

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 labours. In this box they were allowed
to remain for a week, and built another nest. The wasps were
now transferred to a third box, in which they laboured 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 pro-
duced, a fifth box was fitted up with wires arranged in a
different manner. 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 between 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 pro-
duced an extraordinary structure, looking 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

FORAGING ANTS. n-j

portion of the comb on the small central pillar is still left
uncovered.

, 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 nesL 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 the)'
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.

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
popularly classed together under the name of Foraging Ants.
These insects have often been confounded with the Saiiba or
parasol ant, although they belong to different groups and have
different habits. The native name for them is Taudca. 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 cha-
racter. I regret that, as in so many other cases, the lack of
popular names forces me to employ the scientific titles by
which the insects are known to naturalists.

Although in the Fxitons there are the three classes of males,
females, and neuters, these neuters are not divided into two
distinct sets as in the Termites, but are found in regular
gradations of size. The real Foraging Ant is Eciton drepano-
phora, and it is this insect which is so annoying and yet so use-
ful to house-holders. The ants sally forth in vast columns, at
least a hundred yards in length, though not of very great width

2i8 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

On the outside of the column are the officers, which are con-
tinually running backwards and forwards, as if to see that theii
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
formidable 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 microscope, are seen to be stiff bristles,
arranged in regular rings round the mandibles. The thorax
and abdomen are but slender, and the limbs are long, giving
evidence of great activity. In the dried specimen, the colour
of the insect is yellowish-brown, becoming 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 depressions,
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 remark-
able. 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

1

FORAGING ANTS. 219

them, and which are sure to accompany a column of Foraging
Ants on the march.

As soon as the experienced inhabitants of tropical America
see the ant-thrushes, they rejoice in the coming deliverance,
and welcome 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 pain-
fully known.

There are insects that bite, and insects that suck, and in-
sects that scratch, and insects that sting, and many are re-
markable for giving out a most horrible odour. Some of them
are cased in armour 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 de-
fended 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 carcases, 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 com-
posed of cockroaches, of dimensions, appetite, and odour such
as we can hardly conceive in this favoured land. As to the
lizards, 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 marks-
manship, by picking off the more prominent intruders with a

220 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 withstands 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 sin-
gular. The ants penetrate 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 com-
pleted 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 intruder gone, and to their great comfort
are enabled to move about without treading on some un-
pleasant 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.

Every one who is accustomed to the country takes particular
care not to cross one of their 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, nmning up

AGRICULTURAL ANTS.

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 retaining 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 which 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 substance 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.

I HAVE intentionally reserved the last place among the
builders for an insect which is certainly the most wonderful of
tliem all ; not only raising an edifice, but clearing a space
around, and preparing it for a garden. This insect is called by
Dr. Lincecum, the discoverer of its habits, the Agricultural
Ant, and its scientific name is Atia nialefaciens. 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,
however, wrote a long and detailed account to Mr. Darwin,
who made an abstract of it, and read the paper before the
Linnean Society, April i8th, 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

222 STRANGE DWELLINGS,

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
ordinary dry ground, it bores a hole, around which it raises the
surface three and sometimes six inches, forming a low circular
mound, having a very gentle inclination from the centre to the
outer border, 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 inundation, 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 pave-
ment, 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.
Having planted this crop in a circle around, and two or three
feet from the centre of the mound, the insect tends and cul-
tivates it with constant care, cutting away all other grasses and
weeds that may spring up amongst 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 ordinary 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

I

AGRICULTURAL ANTS. 223

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 Agri-
cultural 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 prevented 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 ist of November every year. Oi
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 Agricultural Ant is placing its cities along the
turn-rows in the fields, walks in gardens, inside about the gates,
&c., 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
farmer-like manner the ground upon which it stands is carefully
divested of all other grasses and weeds during the time it is
growing. When it is ripe, the grain is taken care of, the dry
stubble cut away and carried off, the pav^^d area being left
unencumbered until the ensuing autumn, when the same " ant-
rice " reappears within the same circle, and receives the same
agricultural attention as was bestowed upon the previous crop
— and so on, year after year, as I k7tow 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.
Lincecum, asking him whether he thought that the Ants
planted seed for the next year's crop, and received the follow-
ing answer : ' I have not the slightest doubt of it. And, my
, conclusions have not been arrived at from hasty or careless

224 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

observation, nor from seeing 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 circular row of ant-
rice.*

225

CHAPTER XIX.

SUB-AQUATIC NESTS.

VERTEBRATES.

Fishes as architects — The Sticklebacks and their general habits — Ihe
Fresh- Water Sticklebacks— A jealous proprietor— Punishment of tres-
passers— 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.

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 (Gasferosteus)^
those well-known little beings whose spiny bodies, brilliant
colours, and dashing courage make them such favourites 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 manner, there will be no need of describing
each species separately.

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

Q

«6 STRANGE 'DWELLINGS.

nest, he seems to consider a certain area around as his OAvn
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 mate-
rials for his nest, as he can hardly move for six inches beyond
it without intruding upon the grounds of another fish. This
right of possession only seems to extend along the banks and
a few inches outwards, the centre of the stream or ditch being
common property. Along the bank, however, where the vege-
tation is most luxuriant, there is scarcely a foot of space that
is not occupied by some Stickleback, and jealously guarded by
him.

Although the nests of the Stickleback are plentiful enough,
they are not so familiar to the public as might be expected,
principally because they are very inconspicuous, and few of the
uninitiated 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 undis-
tinguishable 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
variable, but they are always constructed so as to harmonise
with the surrounding objects, and thus to escape ordinary ob-
servation. 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 them-
selves, and the nests are evidently constructed 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 water in a net.

THE FTFTEEN-SPINED STICKLEBACK. 227

and the eggs thrown into the stream, the Sticklebacks rush at
them from all sides, and fight for them like boys scrambling
for halfpence. The eggs are very small, barely the size oi
dust-shot, and are yellow when first placed in the nest, but
deepen in colour as they approach maturity.

There is a well-known marine species of this group, called
the Fifteen-Spined Stickleback {Gasterosteus spinachid), 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 algag, such as the
corallines, and the delicate green and purple seaweeds which
fringe our coasts.

Sometimes, indeed, it becomes rather eccentric in its archi
tecture, 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. They
were formed of the usual aggregation of the finer sorts of green
and red seaweed, 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 scattered 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 outside
covering to the whole.'

228 STRANGE D IV ELLIN GS.

CHAPTER XX.

SUB-AQUATIC NESTS.

INVERTEBRATES.

A Pool and its wonders — The Water Spider — Its sub-iiqiiatic nest — Convey-
ance of air to the nest — The diving-bell anticipated — Character of the air in
the nest — Mr, Bell's experiment upon the Spider — Life of the Water Spider—
The Hydracmna— The Caddis Flies and their characteristics— Sub-aquatic
homes of tlie Larva— Singular varieties of form and material — Life of a
Caddis — Description of nests in my own collection — Fixed cases, and modifi-
cation of Larva — Singular materials for nest-building — Different species of
Sabella— The Silkworm Amphitrite —The Terebell^ and their sub-
marine 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 very abundant in that pleasant little river, and there was one
favourite nook where a branch of a weeping- willow projected
horizontally, 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
water-boatmen rowed themselves in fitful jerks, or lay resting in
a contemplative manner on their oars. Now and then an un-
lucky 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 disappear 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 favoured by the nursemaid, for she had no
trouble in watching me, as long as I could sit on the branch and

THE WATER SPIDER.

229

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
interested me greatly. Spiders they certainly were, but they
appeared to have the liabits of the water-beede — coming slowly
to the surface of the water, giving a kind of flirt in the air, and
then disappearing 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 {Argyronctra aqnatica).

This Spider is a most curious and interesting creature, because
it aftbrds 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 downwards,
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 detailed account. How the air is introduced into the
cell is a problem that was for some time unsolved. The reader
is probably 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 surface. In order to set the question at rest,
Mr. Bell, the well-known naturalist, instituted a series of ex-
periments upon the Spider, and communicated the results to the

230

STRANGE DWELLINGS,

Linnean Society. The experiments were made in 1856, and
Mr. Bell's remarks are as follow : —

' No. I. Placed in an upright cyUndrical vessel of water, in
which was a rojotless plant of Stratioies, on the afternoon of

I

WATER SPIDER.

November 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.

THE WATER SPIDER. 231

* No 2. Nov. 15. In another vessel, also furnished with
Stratiotes, I placed six Argyronetrae. The one now referred to
began to weave its beautiful web about five o'clock in the after-
noon. After much preliminary preparation, it ascended to the
surface, and obtained a bubble of air, with which it immediately
and quickly descended, and the bubble was disengaged from
the body and left in connexion 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. Presently 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 strengthen-
ing 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 downwards. The cell was now the
size and nearly the form of half an acorn cut transversely, the
smaller and rounded part being uppermost.

* No. 3. The only diiference between the movements of this
and the former was, that it was rather quicker in formmg 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 bubble
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 upwards, 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
extremity, this crossing of the legs taking place at the instant

232 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

the 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/

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 colour of the Water Spider is brown, with a greyish 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 (Hydrac/ma cruentd)^
and is of a bright scarlet colour, 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 leathery
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.
They all have long and slender antennae, and in some genera,
such as Mystacida, these organs are nearly three times as long
as the head and body.

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

THE CADDIS FLY. 233

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 witli
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 Hmbs. 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
veritable insect, delude the unsuspecting fish into swallowing a
hook instead of a fly.

In process of time the eggs are hatched, and the young larvae
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
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
longitudinally upon each other like the fasces of the Roman
consuls. Of these I have specimens of various sizes and shapes,
some being barely half an inch long, while others measure four

234

STRANGE DWELLINGS.

times that length, the sticks being sometimes placed so irregu-
larly, 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 of any degrees 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,
apparently that of a hemlock, to which are attached a few slips

THE CADDIS FLY. 235

of bark from the plants. Next comes a series of cases in which
the Caddis larva has contrived to secure a great number of
cylindrical grass stems and arranged them transversely in several
sets, making one set cross the other so as to leave a central space,
in which the HtUe 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. h\ 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 Irom
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 acoss 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 Limnaea, 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
Limnsea affixed to the case of a Caddis larva, and to see the
inhabitants adhering to the plants and endeavouring to proceed
in one direction while the Caddis is trying to walk in another,
thus recalling tne 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 waterproof
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

236 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

to a point, like an elephant's tusk. There are also examples of
mixed structures, where the Caddis has combined shells with
the leaf and twig cases, and in one of these instances, the litde
architect has bent back the valves of a small mussel, and fastened
them back to back on its house. Beside 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 belonging to the
genus Porthesia, has been blown into the water from a tree over-
hanging the stream, and seized upon by a Caddis as an 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 quarry in the same county.

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
entirely, on animal food. When the larva has lived for its full
period, 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 float 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,
therefore, to compensate for the immovability of the case, the
larva has a much larger range of movement. In the ordinary
species, the creature holds itself to the extremity of the case by
means of hooks at the end of its body, which can grasp with

THE TEREBELLA. 237

some force, as anyone 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 come to some animals that build a submarine edifice,
somewhat similar in principle to those of the subaquatic Caddis.
The first is the well-known Terebella of our coasts, some-
times known by the name of Shell-binder. Sandy shoals are
the best spots for the Terebella, and in many places there is
scarcely a square 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 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 liave learned the art of making ropes of seasand,
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
Terebella, and by means of a crowbar and a chisel, the animal
may generally be procured, together with its home. There are,
however, plenty of deserted tubes, and I have often been sadly
disappointed by finding that, after a long and laborious digging,
nothing but the empty tube was to be found.

Supposing, however, that a specimen is obtained in an un-
injured state, the observer can easily watch its method of house-
building, by ejecting it from its tubular home, placing it in a
vessel filled with sea-water, and supplying it with a handful of
3and. As clearness of the water is an essential part of success.

23a STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 animal 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 more rapidly, and as if they had some purpose to
fulfil. 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 cannot do better than transfer his account to these
pages. After remarking 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 employed to search eagerly for the lost portion of sand,
which is again seized and dragged towards 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 further
prolongation has augmented the extent of its dwelling.

' At first sight, the numerous tentacula seem only so many
long cylindrical, fleshy threads, of infinite flexibiUty.

' On examining them, however, more attentively, we see that

THE SHELL-BINDER TEREBELLA. 239

in exercising their special function, the surface which is applied
to the foreign objects becomes flattened into twice or thrice its
ordinary 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 riband, folding longitudinally in diflerent places to hold
the particles securely.

' Although these organs, when contracted, are collected into a
brush scarcely double the thickness of the animal's body, so
enormous is their extensibility, that they can be stretched out to
the length of four inches, or half the length of the body, thus
sweeping 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
strengthen its innumerable parts. This silk-like material is
derived from a glutinous slime, which exudes from the surface
of the body of the Terebella.

' Notwithstanding the unrivalled 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
labours are invariably recommenced from the foundation.'

' In Terebella nebulosa^ writes Dr. Williams, ' the tentacula
consist 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 object, the extremity is
drawn in, in consequence of the sudden reflux of fluid in its
hollow interior; by this movement a cup- shaped cavity is

240 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

formed, in which the object is securely held by atmospheric
pressure ; this power is, however, immediately aided by the con-
traction of the circular muscular fibres. Such, then, are the
marvellous instruments by which these peaceful worms construct
their habitations, and probably sweep their vicinity for food.'

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 antennae, and roams about at will ; whereas, in its perfect
state, it has neither head, nor eyes, nor antennae, 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 prelimi-
nary 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 cannot
measure the feelings of such an animal by our own, and may be
sure tliat the creature enjoys existence as much while shut up
in a tube, as when roaming the ocean at liberty.

Another species, Terebella figuhis^ sometimes called the
Potter, prefers mud as the material for its dwelling, and con-
trives to 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
cannot be removed entire from the water without the exercise
of much care, it.«i own weight being mostly sufficient to tear it
asunder. The walls of the tube are tolerably thick, and the tube
itself 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 extraordmary length, extending for some eight or
nine inches beyond the entrance of the tube, the animal itself
measuring little more than four inches in length.

The last species of Terebella tliat will be mentioned, is a very

THE TRUMPET SABELLA, 241

small and very remarkable species. It has been appropriately
termed the Weaver Terebella (Terebeiia textrix\ from the
curious 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
spider, 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, as their substance is quite translucent, like the
threads of isinglass. The threads encircle the body, and as the
web 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
vacating 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 Sabellog, 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 resemblance to the dwelling of the serpula, that a prac-
tised eye is needed to discover the distinction.

One very conspicuous species is the Trumpet Sabella
{Sabeila tubularia)^ which is generally found attached to stones
or shells. The material of which it is made, is that hard, calca-
reous matter which is employed by the serpula, and at first the
two tubes seem to be exactly alike. A more detailed examina-
tion will, however, show that it is not twisted like that of the
serpula, but is nearly straight, looking very much Hke the mili-
tary trumpet, or ' tuba/ of the ancient Romans. In some cases
this tube attains considerable length, measuring eight or nine
inches from tip to mouth. It is a solitary animal, and as far as

R

242 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

is yet known, is never found grouped in masses, like many
allied species.

The gill-fan of this species is exceedingly beautiful, benig
white, dotted profusely with scarlet, and expanding into a
graceful feathery 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 alveolarid), which may be found in
countless 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 innumerable 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 further 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 micro-
scope of moderate power, each tentacle is seen to be composed
of a central shaft, with projecting teeth or fringes on both sides.
There are about eighty of these tentacles, and as they are
extremely flexible 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 readily pull out the inhabitant, in spite of the
array of bristles and hooks wherewith it clings to its habita-
tion. It is but a little creature in point of length, but in point
of width it nearly fills the diameter of the tube. The ex-

THE SILKWORM AMPHITRITE. 243

tremity 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 endeavours towards 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 judicious
supply of different substances, they may be forced to build
tubes of various colours and forms.

There is another group of tube-making marine annelids
which are remarkable for the transparency of their newly con-
structed 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 Terebellae
can make a structure which is as transparent as isinglass, and
will not, therefore, be surprised to find that another annehd
possesses similar powers. The tube of the Silkworm Amphi-
trite is longer than the body, and is made entirely of the gela-
tinous secretion which in most of the species is used as a
cement for fastening together the sand, shells, mud, and other
materials of which the tube is formed. In this creature, how-
ever, 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
incrusted 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 incheis, 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

R 2

244 STRANGE DWELLINGS,

the tube on the least alarm, and contracting the orifice after it
has retired into seclusion.

Should the reader happen to be an entomologist, he will
readily call to mind the tiny cylindrical cases that are made
by certain lepidopteran larvae, belonging to the great family
Tineidse, and which are found so plentifully upon the leaves of
oak, hazel, and other trees. If he should happen to be some-
thing 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 colour is pale brown, their
surface is rough, and they are stuck upon the seaweed in great
confusion, without the least attempt at arrangement.

These are the habitations of a very small crustacean {Cerapus
tubularis), popularly 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,
caprellae, that are so plentiful among seaweeds, 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 produces 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.

1

245

: 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 Zoologi-
cal Gardens— Theories respecting the Beaver's dam— How the timber i;;
fastened together— Form of the dam, and mode of its enlargement— Beaver-
dams and coral-reefs— The house or lodge of the Beaver— Its locahty and
structure— Use of a subterranean passage— How Beavers are hunted--
Curious Superstition — ' Les Paresseux.'

We now come to the Social Habitations, and give precedence
to those which are constructed by Mammaha.

Of the Social Mammaha, 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 favourable locality.
The Beavers, on the other hand, are not only social by dwelling
near each other, but by joining in a work which is intended for
the benefit of the community.

The form of the Beaver is sufficiently marked to 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 be 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

246 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

mark, or, at all events, to prevent it from sinking below the
requisite level.

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

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

When the animal has fixed upon a tree which it believes to be
suitable for its purpose, it begins by sitting upright, and with its
chisel-like teeth, cutting a bold groove 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

THE BEAVER. 247

settled this question, it goes to the opposite side of the tree,
and with two or three powerful bites cuts away the wood, so
that the tree becomes overbalanced and falls to the ground.

This point having been reached, the animal proceeds to cut
up the fallen trunk into lengths, usually a yard or so in length,
employing a similar method of severing the wood. In conse-
quence of this mode of gnawing the timber, both ends of the
logs are rounded and rather pointed. In the Zoological Gardens
maybe seen many excellent examples of timber which has been
cut by the Beaver. The logs and stumps which project a foot
or so from the ground are so neatly pointed that very few visitors
notice them, thinking them to be cut by the hand of man.

The next part of the task is, to make these logs into a dam.
Now, whereas some persons have endeavoured to make the
Beaver a more ingenious animal than it really is, and have
accredited it with powers which only belong to mankind, others
have gone to the other 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 acknow-
ledged fact that the dam is by no means placed at random in
the stream, just where a few logs may have happened to lodge,
but is set exactly where it is wanted, and is made so as to suit
the force of the current. In those places where the stream
runs slowly, the dam is carried straight across the river, but in
those where the writer 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 thick-
ness, and their form exactly corresponds with the force of the
stream, being straight in some parts, and more or less convex
in others.

The dam is formed, not by forcing the ends of the logs into
the bed of the river, but by laying them horizontally, and cover-

248 STRANGE DWELLINGS

ing them with stones and earth until they can resist the force of
the water. Vast numbers of logs are thus laid, and as fast as
the water rises, fresh materials are added, being obtained mostly
from the trunks and branches of trees which have been stripped
of their bark by the Beavers.

The reader will remember that many persons have thought
that the dam of the Beaver is only an accidental agglomeration
of loose logs and branches, without any engineering skill on
the part of the animals. There is some truth in this statement,
though the assertion is too sweeping. For, after the Beavers
have completed their dam, it obstructs the course of the stream
so completely 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,
bO that in process of time the dam becomes as firm as the land
through which the river passes, and is covered with fertile
alluvium. Seeds soon make their way to the congenial soil,
and in a dam of long standing, forest trees have been known
to grow, their roots adding to the general stability by binding
together the materials. It is well known that the fertile islands
formed on coral reefs are stocked in a similar manner. Origi-
nally, 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 further winter provision is also made by taking the smaller
branches, diving with them to the foundations of the dam, and
carefully fastening them among the logs. When the Beavers
are hungiy, they dive to their hidden stores, pull out a few
branches, carry them on land, nibble away the bark, and drop
tne stripped logs on the water, where they are soon absorbed
by the dam.

We have now seen how the Beavers keep the water to the
required level, and we must next see how they make use of it.

THE BEAVER.

249

The Beaver is essentially an aquatic mammal, never walking
when it can swim, and seldom appearing quite at its ease upon
dry land. It therefore makes its houses close to the water, and
communicating with it by means of subterranean passages, one
entrance of which passes into the house or Modge,' as it is
technically named, and the other into the water, so far below
the surface that it cannot be closed by ice. It is, therefore,
always possible for the Beaver to gain access to the provision
stores, and to return to its house, without being seen from the
land.

The lodges are nearly circular in form, and much 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 interior dimensions, the exterior measurement being much
greater, on account of the great thickness of the walls, which
are continually strengthened with mud and branches, so that,
during the severe frosts, they are nearly as hard as solid stone.
Each lodge will accommodate several inhabitants, whose beds
are arranged round the walls.

All these precautions are, however, useless against the prac-
tised 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
satisfied, they cut away the ice and stop up the opening, so
that if the Beavers should be alarmed, they cannot escape into
the water. They then proceed to the shore, and by repeated
soundings, trace the course of the Beavers' subterranean pas-
sage, which is sometimes eight or ten yards in length, and by
watching the various apertures are sure to catch the inhabitants.
This is not a favourite task with the hunters, and is never under-
taken as long as they can find any other employment, for the
work is very severe, the hardships are great, and the price which
they obtain for the skins is now very small.

While they are thus engaged, they must be very careful not
to spill any blood, as if they do so, the rest of the Beavers take
alarm, retreat to the water, and cannot be captured. They also

250 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 ceremony, which is
wonderfully like the custom of our fishermen of spitting into
the mouth of the first fish they catch, and on the first money
which they take in the day, * for luck.'

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

251

CHAPTER XXII.

SOCIAL BIRDS.

The Sociable Weaver Bird and its country— Description of the bird— Nest
of the Sociable Weaver— How begun and how carried on— Materials of the
nest— The tree on which the nest is built, and its uses— Dimensions of the
nest and disastrous consequences— A Hottentot and a lion — Supposed object
of the Social nest — Average number of inhabitants — Enemies 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
mammalia. This is the Sociable Weaver Bird, sometimes
called the Sociable Grosbeak [PhiletcBrus socius).

This species is allied to the Weaver Birds, some of which
have already been described, and makes a nest which is no
whit inferior 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 incon-
spicuous, its colour being pale bluff, 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 traveller. Few
persons expect to see in a tree a nest which is large enough to
shelter five or six men ; and yet that is often the case with the
nest of the Sociable 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 cf the community.
How it is built will now be described.

I^rge as is the domicile, and capable at last of containing a

252 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

vast number of parents and young, it is originally the work of a
single pair, and attains its enormous dimensions by the labours
of those birds which choose to associate in common. The first
task of this Weaver Bird is to procure a large quantity of the
herb which really seems as if made expressly for the purpose.

SOCIABLE WEAVER BIRD.

This is a grass Avith 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.

THE SOCIABLE WEAVER BIRD. 253

They carry this grass to some suitable tree, which is usually
a species of acacia, called by the Dutch colonists Kameel-
dom {Acacia giraffa)^ because the giraffe, which the Dutch
persist in calling a kameel or camel, is fond of grazing on the
leaves.

The birds then hang the Booschmannie grass over a suitable
branch, and by means of weaving and plaiting it, they form a
roof of some little size. Under this roof are placed a quantity
of nests, increasing in number with each successive brood. The
nests are set closely together, so that at last they look like a
mass of grass pierced with numerous holes, and it is really
wonderful that the birds should be able to find their way to
their own particular homes. To human eyes, the nests are as
much alike as the houses in a modern street, before the blinds,
the flowers, and other additions have communicated an indi-
viduality 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 succes-
sive seasons, the birds refuse to build in the same nests a
second time, preferring to make a fresh domicile for each new
brood. In consequence of this custom, when the birds have
entirely filled the roofs with their nests, they do not desert it,
but enlarge the roof, and build a second row of nests, just like
the combs of a wasp's or hornet's habitation.

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

The lion, in the meantime, arrived at the foot of the tree,

254 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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

Knowing that the ascent of the tree was impossible, and at
the same time unwilling to leave its prey, the lion sat down at
the foot of the tree, and kept watch upon the man. Hour
after hour the lion mounted guard over its prisoner, until thirst
overpowered hunger, and the animal was forced reluctantly to
quit its post and seek for water. The man then scrambled
down the tree, and made the best of his way homewards, little
the worse for his imprisonment except the fright, and a skin
scorched by long exposure to the sun. The artist has intro-
duced this little episode into the illustration, because it enables
the reader to judge of the enormous size of the nest.

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

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

The Weaver Burls 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 mon-

THE SOCIABLE WEAVER BIRD. 255

keys, which are capable of sad depredations whenever they can
find an opportunity. Monkeys are extremely fond of eggs, and
there is scarcely a better bribe to a monkey, ape, or baboon,
than a fresh raw ^gg. The bird which laid it is almost as great
a dainty, and a monkey seems to be in the height of enjoyment
if a newly-killed bird be put into its paws. It always begins
by eating the brain, and then tears the carcase 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

«S6 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

CHAPTER XXIII.

SOCIAL INSECTS.

Nests of FOLYBIA — Cuiious method of enlargement- -Structure of the nests-
How concealed — Various modes of attachment — A curious specimen — The
Hive Bee, and claims to notice — General history of the hive — Form of the
cells — The royal cell, its structure and use — Uses of the ordinary cells —
Structure of the Bee-cell— Economy of space — How produced — Measurement
of angles — A logarithmic table corrected by the bee-cell — The 'lozenge,' a
key to the cell — How to form it — Beautiful mathematic proportions of the
lozenge—Method of making the cell or a model — Effect of the cell upon
honey — The Hornet and its nest — Its favourite locaUties — Difficulties of
taking a hornet's nest — Habits of the insect — Mr. Stone's method of taking
the nest — The Small Ermine Moth — and its ravages — Its large social
habitation — General habits of the larva — 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.

Afi'er the Social Birds come the Social Insects, to which the
following chapter is dedicated.

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

In the British Museum there are some very remarkable nests
made by hymenopterous insects belonging to the genus Polybia^
several of which are drawn in the accompanying illustration.
As it was desirable to include more than one specimen, the
figures are necessarily much reduced in size. Neither the nests
nor the insect, however, are of large dimensions, and the former
are so sombre in colour as well as small in size, that they would
not of themselves attract any attention. Their nests, however,
are extremely interesting, as may be seen from the examples
which are figured in the illustration.

THE POLYBIA,

257

On the left hand may be seen a nearly 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 circumstance connected with the nest. If it were to be
opened, it would be seen to be composed of several concentric

s

258 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

layers, very much like those ivory puzzle-balls which the Chinese
make so beautifully.

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

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

On the right of the globular nest is another curious structure,
also made by insects of the same genus, and having a kind of
similarity in its aspect. This nest, 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
coincides so completely with the colour of the faded leaf, that
many persons would overlook it unless their attention were
specially drawn towards it.

On the extreme right of the illustration, and in the upper
corner, is seen a nest which is also the work of insects
belonging to the genus Polybia, and it is pendent from a
bough, like the habitation of the 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
substance, this similarity of aspect being evidently intended
as a preservative against the attacks of birds and other insect-
loving creatures, which would break up the nest, and eat the im-

THE HIVE BEE, 259

mature and tender grubs. Most of the nests are fixed to leaves,
and are different forms, according to the species which made
them. They are mostly fixed to the under sides of the leaf, so
that the weight causes the leaf to bend and to form a natural
roof above them. The shape of the nest seems to depend much
on the character of the plant to which it is fixed. Those that
are fastened to reeds are long and slender, and generally much
narrower than the sword-shaped leaf on which they rest. Others,
which are fastened to short and broad leaves, adapt themselves
so closely to the shape of the leaf, that, if removed, they would
enable anyone 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, 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
Polybia sedula, 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 the human race. There are many other insects which are
in reality quite as useful to us, and indeed are indispensable,
but which we neglect because we ire ignorant of their labours.
The Bee, however, furnishes two powerful and tangible argu-
ments in its favour — namely, honey and wax — and is sure,
therefore, to enlist our sympathies in its behalf.

s 2

26o STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 wasprcomb — 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.

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
former is the mother as well as the queen of the hive ; that the
workers are undeveloped females, which are properly called
neuters ; and that the drones are males, which do no work, and
have no stings.

In the 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.

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 unHke the
nursery of a subject, whether drone or worker, and is almost
always placed on the edge of a comb.

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

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

THE HIVE BEE. 261

hornet are single, and are arranged horizontally, so that their
cells are vertical, with the mouths downwards and the bases
upwards, the united bases forming a floor on which the nurse
wasps can walk while feeding the young inclosed in the row of
cells immediately above them.

Such, however, is not the case with the Hive Bee. As every
one knows, who has seen a bee-comb, the cells are laid nearly
horizontally, and in a double series, just as if a couple of
thimbles were laid on the table with the points touching each
other and their mouths pointing in opposite directions. In-
crease 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,
it is clear that they would have but little adhesion to each
other, and that a large amount of space would be wasted. The
simplest plan of obviating these defects is evidently to square
off the rounded bases, and to fill up the ends of each cell with
a hexagonal flat plat, which is actually done by the wasp. If,
however, we look at a piece of bee-comb, we shall find that no
such arrangement is 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 cells, so as only to leave the bases,
we shall see that each cup consists of three lozenge-shaped
plates of wax, all the lozenges being exactly alike.

These lozenge-shaped plates contain the key to the bee-cell,
and their properties will therefore be explained at length. Before
doing so, I must acknowledge ray thanks to the Rev. Walter
Mitchell, Vicar and Hospitaller of St. Bartholomew's Hospital,
who has long exercised his well-known methematical powers on
tliis 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 fart that the lozenge-shaped plates always had

262

STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 equiva-
lent of two right angles. He also noted the fact that the apex
of the three-sided cup was formed by the union of three of the
greater angles. The three united lozenges are seen at fig. i.

^

^V^r&.i

10S.S&'

xo§2^

inf..29^

^3.2»'

^/^^''\^«."3.'

<^l»3'

jo'!>)

{

Some time afterwards, Reaumur, thinking that this remark-
able uniformity of angle might have some connection with the
wonderful economy of space which is observal^le in the bee-

THE HIVE BEE. 263

comb, hit upon a very ingenious plan. Without mentioning his
reasons for the question, he asked Koenig, the mathematician,
to make the following calculation. Given a hexagonal vessel
terminated by three lozenge-shaped plates ; what are the angles
which would give the greatest amount of space with the least
amount of material ?

Koenig m^de his calculations, and found that the angles were
109° 26' and 70° 34', almost precisely agreeing with the measure-
ments of Maraldi. The reader is requested to remember these
angles. Reaumur, on receiving the answer, concluded that the
Bee had very nearly solved the difficult mathematical problem,
the difference between the measurement and the calculation
being so small as to be practically negatived in the actual con-
struction 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 con-
struction of the bee-cell became a famous problem in the
economy of nature. In comparison with the honey which the
cell is intended to contain, the wax is a rare and costly sub-
stance, secreted in very small quantities, and requiring much
time for its production ; it is therefore essential that the quan-
tity of wax employed in making 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.
Anyone with the proper instruments could measure the angles
for himself, and the calculations of a mathematician like Koenig
would hardly be questioned. However, Maclaurin, the well-
known Scotch mathematician, was not satisfied. The two
results very nearly tallied with each other, but not quite, and
he felt that in a mathematical question precision was a neces-
sity. So he tried the whole question himself, and found
Maraldi's measurements correct, namely, 109° 28', and 70° 32'.

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

264 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

Another question now arose. How did this discrepancy
occur ? How could so excellent a mathematician as Koenig
make so grave a mistake ? On investigation, it was found that
no blame attached to Koenig, but that the error lay in the book
of logarithms which he used. Thus, a mistake in a mathema-
tical 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 captaifi happened to use a copy of the same
logarithinic tables for calculating his longitude.

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

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

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

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

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.

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, how-
ever, 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
branches, and bear home in their mouths the bundles of woody

THE HIVE BEE. 265

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

If the body of a worker Bee be carefully examined, on the
under sides of the abdomen will be seen six little flaps, not
unlike pockets, the covers of which can be easily raised with a
pin or needle. Under these flaps is secreted the wax, which is
produced in tiny scales or plates, and may be seen projecting
from the flaps like little semilunar white lines. Plenty of food,
quiet, and warmth are necessary for the production of wax, and
as it is secreted very slowly, 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 cannot soak through the delicate walls of
the cells, as would soon be the case if the comb were made of
woody fibre, like that of the hornet or wasp.

Indeed, it is a most remarkable fact that the Bee should
be able to produce not only the honey, but the material with
which is formed the treasury wherein the honey is stored.
Honey itself is again scarcely less remarkable than wax. The
Bee goes to certain flowers, inserts its hair-clad proboscis into
their recesses, sweeps out the sweet juice, passes the laden
proboscis through its jaws, scrapes off the liquid and swallows
it. The juice then passes into a little receptacle just within
the abdomen called the 'honey-bag,' which is apparently com-
posed of an exceedingly delicate membrane, and seems to dis-
charge 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

266 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

odour and flavour peculiarly its own. How tins change is
?vrought is at present unknown, for the little bag in wiiich the
transformation is made is composed of a membrane that seems
incapable of exerting any influence upon the substance con-
tained within it.

All food that is eaten by the Bee passes through the honey-
bag, which is closely analogous to the crop of a l^ird, 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 circumstances the valve just allows the food to
pass gently and gradually into the stomach ; but the violent
effort, which is made in ejecting the food, closes the valve, and
only allows the honey to flow upwards through the mouth.

The office of the worker and drone cells is two-fold — first,
to act as nurseries for the insects while passing through their
preliminary stages, and next to serve as repositories for food,
whether liquid or solid. The t.%g of the Queen-Bee is placed
nearly at the bottom of the cell, exactly on the angle where the
point of the lozenges meet. It is soon hatched into a little
white grub, which is assiduously fed by the nurses, and grows
with wonderful rapidit>^ 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 perfect insect. It then bites its way out,
and after a day or so devoted to hardening and strengthening
its limbs, it leaves the hive and joins in the labours of the
community.

No sooner is the Bee fairly out of its waxen nursery, than
the workers clear out the cell, and prepare it for the reception
of honey. As soon as the cell is filled, the Bees close up the
entrance with a waxen door, which is air-tight, and serves to
preserve the honey in proper condition. Those who wish to
eat honey in its pure state should always purchase it in the
comb. If it be stored in pots, however well they may be

THE HORNET. 267

sealed, it always crystallises, and in that state is injurious to
digestion. Moreover, it is so extensively adulterated, that a
pot of really pure honey is not easily obtained.

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

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

We now come to an insect which is as well known by name
as the bee, though not so familiar to our eyes. This is the
common Hornet (Vespa crab7'o), 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 outliouses, and places of a similar
description. Whenever the Hornet takes up its residence in
an inhabited 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 venomous. 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
intentions. It is not pleasant to be chased by wasj)s, 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 leturn to the charge
as soon as thev recover from the shock. There is a deep

268

STRANGE DWELLINGS.

ominous menace in their hmii, which speaks volumes to those
who have some acquaintance with the language of insects ; and
no one who has once been chased by these insects will willingly
run the same risk again.

Mr. S. Stone, whose interesting letter upon the wasp has
already 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.

THE HORNET. 269

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 labours, and a
most beautiful nest was produced, symmetrical in shape, and
variegated with wonderfully rich colours. 'Such a nest as
that,' writes Mr. Stone, 'is not produced by Hornets in a
general way. They do not trouble themselves to form much
of a covering, especially when a small cavity in the head of a
tree is selected, which is often the case. The walls of the
chamber they consider a sufficient protection for the combs.

' 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 coloured woods, and such as form
the most striking contrasts, and place them so that the insects
shall be induced, 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
Hornet's nest, I asked Mr. Stone how he performed the task,
and was told that his chief reliance was placed on chloroform.
Approaching very cautiously to the nest, he twists some cotton
wool round the end of a stick, soaks it in chloroform, and
pushes it into the aperture. A mighty buzzing immediately
arises, but is soon silenced by the chloroform, and as soon as
this result has happened, mallet, chisel, and saw are at work,
until the renewed buzzing tells that the warlike insects are re-
covering their senses, and will soon be able to use their for-
midable weapons. The chloroform is then re-applied until
they are quieted, and the tools are again taken up.

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

Moreover, the habits of Hornets are not quite like those of

270 STRANGE DlVEUjyOS.

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. There-
fore, 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 mate-
rials 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
imbedded in the tree, and cost no less than six hours of con-
tinuous labour, 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 dimen-
sions of the insects that are crawling upon it. As the arrange-
ment of the combs is identical with that of the wasp-nest, the
interior is not disclosed. Another reason for showing the ex-
terior of the nest is, that the reader might see how the Hornet
forms the paper-like cover, and the manner in which the insects
^•ran enter at different parts, instead of having but a single en-
trance, as is the case with several hymenopterous nests which
have been mentioned.

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

In its winged and pupal states the insect is perfectly
harmless, but in its larval condition it becomes a terrible pest

THE GOLD-TAILED MOTH. 271

Most caterpillars wage war singly on the foliage, and though
they do much damage, their ravages are conducted in a desul-
tory 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
caterpillars issue in vast numbers, each individual spinning a
strong silken thread as it proceeds, which acts as a guide to the
nest, just as the fabled clue led through the intricacies of
Rosamond's bower. When once these caterpillars have taken
possession of a tree, they are sure to strip it of its leaves as
completely as if the foliage had been plucked out by hand. It
is a very curious sight to watch the systematic manner in which
these troublesome insects set about their work, how they send
out pioneers which lead the way to new branches, either by
crawling up to them or by lowering themselves to them by
means of their silken life-Unes, and how soon they are followed
by their ever-hungry companions.

Another well-known British insect which constructs social
habitations is the Gold-tailed Moth (Porthesia chrysorrhcea),
2l familiar and beautiful insect, with wings of soft downy
plumage, and snowy-white in colour, and a tuft of yellow hair
at the end of the tail. The perfect insect may often be seen
sticking on the trunks of trees in gardens, waiting until the
evening, when it will fly off to its labours.

When the moth has laid its eggs, it plucks off the beautiful
yellow tuft at the end of the tail, and with it forms a roof over
the pile of eggs, laying the hairs so artificially as to make a
perfect thatch. When the larvae are hatched, they retain their
sociabiHty, 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

272 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

me. It was found in a hedge, about two feet from the
ground, and is rather a compHcated 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
within. There are several sheets of silken tissue, each be-
coming more delicate, and the innermost being white, shining
like satin ; whereas the outer covering is dull- white, and very
tough, clinging to the scissors so that a straight cut is almost
impossible. Delicate walls divide the interior into several
compartments, in all of which are evidences that the caterpillars
must have resided for some time. The reason why the crea-
tures make this nest is, that they are hatched towards the end
of summer, and in consequence are forced to pass the winter in
the larval 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 warmer than would be obtamed
by a solid mass of silk measuring twice the thickness of the
three walls, together with their intervening spaces.

There is an allied insect, popularly called the Brown-tailed
Moth {Porthesia aurifiud)^ which spins a social nest that in
many respects resembles that of the Gold-tailed Moth. The
nest, however, is scarcely so elegant, nor is the silken web so
beautifully delicate. Much, however, depends upon 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.

273

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 — The Driver Ant of Africa
— Description of the insect — Reason for its name — Its general habits — De-
structive powers of the Driver Ant — How the insects devour meat and convey
it home — How they kill snakes — Native legend of the python — Their mode
of march — Fatal effects of the sunbeams — An extemporised arch — Method of
escaping from floods — Site of their habitation — Modes of destroying them —
Living ladders and their structure — Method of crossing streams — Tenacity of
life — A decapitated Ant — Mode of biting — Description of the insect — Amazon
Ants and their slaves — Curious nest of a Brazilian Wasp — Weight of the
nest and method of attachment.

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 tr^es and
shrubs, and Colonel Sykes mentions that he has found their
curious habitation on the branches of the Kurwund shrub,
Carissa Carandas, and on the Mango tree, Mangifera Ifidica.

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 cow-dung, which is spread in flakes in a manner that re-
minds 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 ne.st

T

274 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 maybe found insects
in every state of development, eggs in one, larvae in another,
and pupae 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 insects are extremely small, barely one-fifth of an inch
in length, and are reddish in colour.

Perhaps one of the most terrible of insects is that which is
appropriately called the Driver Ant of Western Africa
{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 yet been
discovered. The workers are uniform in colour, but exceedingly
variable in size. Their hue is deep brownish black, and their
length varies from half an inch to one line, so that the largest
workers nearly equal the common earwig, while the smallest are
no larger than the familiar red ant of our gardens. In the
British Museum are specimens of the workers, which form a
regular gradation of size, from the largest to the smallest.

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

THE DRIVER A AT.

275

midable 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

DRIVER ANTS.

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

T 2

27^ STRANGE DWELLINGS.

was obtained. The Ants are possessed of strength which seems
gigantic when compared with their size, carrying away sticks
four or five times as large as themselves, and never failing to
pounce upon any grub or insect that might happen to be lurking
beneath their shelter. They always carried such burdens longi-
tudinally, grasping them with their jaws and legs, and passing
the load under the body. Some of these roads are more than
two hundred yards in length.

Meanwhile, the other Ants were busy with the fowl. Beginning
at the base of the beak, they contrived to pull out the feathers
one by one, until they stripped it regularly backwards, working
over the head, along the neck, and so on to the body. This was
evidently a very hard task, as the insects did not possess sufficient
strength to pull out the feathers by main force, and were conse-
quently obliged to grub them up laboriously by the roots. The
next business was to pull the bird to pieces, and at this work
they were left. Unfortunately the experiment was spoiled by
the natives, who stole the fowl, thinking that the Ants had eaten
so many of their poultry that they were 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 cannot say ; but it is here given in

THE DRIVER ANT, 277

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 ex-
treme cases the entire population is forced to take to the rivers,
knowing that the insects will not enter water unless obliged to
do so ; although on occasion they do not hesitate to commit
themselves to the waves, as will presently be seen.

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

'Their salHes 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 instan-
taneously 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, &c., affording sufficient shelter, the arch is
dispensed v/ith ; 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 appear-
ance, and freedom from everything moveable.

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

* 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 antennae, intertwining, form a
sort of net- work, 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

278 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

alarm should prove to be without foundation, the victory won,
or danger jjassed, the arch is quickly renewed, and the main
column marches forward as before, in all the order of an intel-
lectual military discipline.'

Sometimes, as is usual in tropical countries, the rain descends
like a flood, converting in a few minutes whole tracts of country
into a temporary lake. The dwellings of the Driver Ant are
immediately deluged, and, but for a remarkable instinct which
is implanted in the insects, most of the Ants, and all the future
brood, would perish. 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 power-
ful insects on tlie 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 curi-
ous balls was cleverly caught in a handkerchief, put in a vessel,
and sent to Mr. F. Smith, of the British Museum, who has
kindly presented me with several specimens of the insect.

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

The natives generally try to destroy the colony by 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 neighbouring trees,
clinging in heavy bunches and long festoons, which connected
one branch with another, and formed ladders over which the
insects could pass. These festoons were made in a very curious
manner.

THE DRIVER ANT. 279

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

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

After describing the terrible drought at Chonuane, when the
river Kolobay ran dry and the fish perished, when the crocodile
himself was stranded and died, and the native trees could not

28o STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 mid-day, and found the mercury to stand at 132° to 134°; and
if certain beetles were placed on the surface, they only ran about
a few seconds and expired.

' But this boiling heat only augmented the activity of the
long-legged Black Ants; they never tire; their organs of motion
seem endowed with the same power as is ascribed by physiolo-
gists 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 ^\^lite Ant, but they came despite the precaution;
and not only were they in this sultry weather able individually
to moisten soil to the consistency of mortar for the formation of
galleries, which in their way of working is done by night (so
that they are screened from the observation of birds by day in
passing and repassing towards any vegetable matter they may
wish to devour), but, when their inner chambers were laid open,
these were also surprisingly humid ; yet there was no dew, and
the house being placed on a rock, they could have no subter-
ranean passage to the bed of the river, which ran about three
hundred yards below the hill. Can it be that they have the
power of combining the oxygen and hydrogen of their vegetable
food by vital force as to form water?'

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

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

The specimens which have already been mentioned are now

THE DRIVER ANT, 281

before me, and curious beings they are. The largest are black,
with a slight tinge of red, and have an enormous head, almost
equalling one-third of the entire length. It is deep and wide
as well as long, as indeed is necessary for the attachment of the
muscles which move the enormous jaws. These weapons are
sharply curved, and when closed, they cross each other, so that
when the insect has fairly fixed itself, its hold cannot be loosened
unless the jaws are opened. It is useless, therefore, to kill the
ant, for its head will retain its grasp in death as well as in
life. Beside the sharp point of the mandibles, they are further
armed with a central tooth, which is so formed that when the
mandibles are quite closed, and the points crossed to the utmost,
the tips of the central teeth meet and form another means of
grasping.

There is no vestige of external eyes, and even the half-inch
power of the microscope fails to show the slightest indication of
visual organs. As, however, the horny coat of the head is suf-
ficiently 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 paier red than the body, and although they
are slender and delicate, their grasping power is very great. Two
of my specimens had grasped each other's limbs with such force
that they could not be separated without damaging the insect,
and it was not until the rigid joints were softened with moisture,
and then with the aid of a magnifier, that I succeeded in dis-
engaging the insects.

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

232 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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

The Ant which employs enforced labour is called the
Amazon Ant (Polyergus rufesceus)^ and is tolerably common
on the Continent. This insect is not furnished with jaws
which are capable of performing the work that usually falls to
the lot of the neuters ; but the same length and sharpness of
the mandibles which unfit the insect for work, render it emi-
nently capable of warfare. When, therefore, a colony of the
Amazon Ants is about to establish itself, the insects form
themselves into an army, and set off on a slave-hunting ex-
pedition.

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

As soon as they reach the nest, they penetrate into all its
recesses, in spite of opposition, and search every corner for
their spoil. This consists solely of the pupa3 which will after-
wards be developed into neuters ; and vast numbers of the un-
conscious young are carried off in the jaws of the conquerors.
The rightful owners and relatives of the captured young cannot
resist the enemy, as their shorter though more generally useful
jaws are unable to contend with the long and sharply-pointed
weapons of their foes.

After the marauding army has returned, the living spoils are
carefully deposited in the nest, where they are speedily hatched
into perfect insects of the worker class, and immediately take
on themselves the labours of the nest, just as they would have
done in their own home. The Amazon Ant seems to be utterly
incapable of work ; and in one notable instance, when a num-
ber of them were confined in a glass-case, together with some

THE AMAZON AXT. 283

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 under-
took the whole care of the family, fed the still living Amazon
Ants, and took charge of the pupae until they were developed
into perfect insects.

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

They fmd themselves perfectly at home, and are in every
respect on a par with their so-called masters. In point of fact,
however, the real masters in the nest are the slaves, for upon
them the Amazons are dependent from their earliest days to
the end of their life, and without them the entire community
would perish. The slaves have no other home but that to
which they have been brought^ and are no more to be pitied
than are dogs, cattle, and other domestic animals that never
have freedom. Indeed, none but 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
importations should be made as fast as the demand for workers
exceeds the supply ; and it is really a wonderful thing that the

284 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

Amazon Ants should always select the pupae which will after-
wards be developed into neuters, and never take those from
which males or females will issue.

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

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

The material of which it is formed is mud, or clay, which is
kneaded by the insect until it has attained a wonderful tenacity
and strength, and is rendered so plastic as to be worked almost
as neatly as the waxen bee-cell. It is of rather a large size,
measuring 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 col-
lected and skilfully put together by Mr. F. Smith, who has
succeeded in restoring 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 ex-
tremely variable in thickness, some parts being nearly three
times as strong as others. The upper portions of the nest are
the thickest, the reason for which is evident on inspecting the
specimen.

The nest was found in a Guianan forest, near the river
Berbice, suspended to a branch, which passed through a hole
in the solid wall of the nest. In the actual specimen, the
branch is wanting ; but in the illustration it has been restored,

THE MUD WASP,

285

in order to show the manner in which the winged artificers sus-
pended their wonderful home. As is always the case with
pensile nests, the foundation is laid at the top, thus carrying
out Dean Swift's suggestion for a new patent in architecture.

A large quantity of clay is worked round the chosen branch,
and made very strong, in order to sustain the heavy weight
which will be suspended from it. This clay foundation is
wonderfully hard, though very brittle, this latter quality being

286 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

probably clue to the long residence in a room which is always
kept warm and dry by artificial means. In the open air, and
in the ever damp, though hot atmosphere of tropical America,
the clay would probably be much tougher, without losing the
necessary hardness.

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

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

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

187

CHAPTER XXV.

PARASITIC NESTS.

Various Parasites— Parasitic Birds— The Cuckoo and its kin— The Cow Bird
and its nest — Size of its ^gg — The Blue-faced Money-eater or Batikin
—General habits of the bird— Singular mode of nesting— The Sparrow-
Hawk and its parasitic habits— The Kestrel, its quarrel with a Magpie—
The Starling and the Pigeons— The Purple Grakle or Crow Black-
bird—Its curious alliance with the Osprey — Wilson's account of the two
birds — 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— Ruby-Tailed Flies and
their victims — Modes of usurpation— The CucKOO Flies or Tachince —
Parasites on vegetables — The Gall Plies and their home — British Galls,
their shapes, structures, and authors.

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 home of the para-
site.

The kingfisher, for instance, usurps the deserted hole of a
water-shrew ; and the humble-bee and wasp usually take ad-
vantage of the deserted burrow of some rat or mouse. In the
account of the sociable weaver-bird, mention is also made of
certain little green parrots, which are apt to take possession of
the great nest, and use it for their own purpose. And in the

288 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

last chapter an example was mentioned where a carder-bee es-
tabhshed herself in the deserted nest of a wren, and so saved
herself the trouble of fetching materials and building a dome.

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

All Cuckoos, however, do not possess this habit ; for some
of the group build nests which are remarkable for their beauty,
and tend their young as carefully as do any birds. The cele-
brated Honey-finders, for example, which are found in most
hot portions of the globe, are notable for their skill in architec-
ture. 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 ob-
stinate battles take place among the males. About the loth 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 con-
cavity, 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 an uniform greenish blue colour, and of a size propor-
tionate 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 al-

THE BLUE-FACED HONEY-EATER. 289

most reach her with your hand, and then precipitates herself to
the ground, feigning lameness, fluttering, trailing her wings,
and tumbling over, in the manner of the partridge, woodcock,
and many other species. Both parents unite in providing food
for the young.'

In Australia there is a large group of rather pretty birds,
popularly called Honey-eaters, because they feed largely on
the sweet juices of many flowers, although the staple of their
diet consists of insects. They seem indeed to occupy in
Australia the position which is taken in America by the hum-
ming-birds, and by the sun birds of the old world. To this
group belong many familiar and interesting species, such as
that which produces a sound like the tinkling of a bell, and is
in consequence called the Bell-bird ; the different species of
Wattle Birds ; the odd, bald-headed Friar Birds, and the splen-
didly 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 {Entomyza 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
amusement. It is never still, but traverses the branches with
astonishing celerity, skipping from one to another, probing every
crevice with its needle-like tongue, hanging with its head down-
wards, and even suspending itself by a single claw, while it
secures a tempting insect. It is generally to be found on the
eucalypti, or gum-trees, and is one of the stationary birds,
remaining in the same locaHty throughout the year.

The generahty of the Honey-eaters are skilful architects, but
the Batikin seems not to share the ability of its relatives, or, at
all events, not to exercise it. Mr. Gould tninks that the bird
can hardly depart so far from usual custom as to be incapable of

u

20O STRAJSIGE DWELLINGS.

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

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

In England we have many parasite birds, one of which is
the common Sparrow-Hawk {Accipiter 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 cannot do so, attacks birds which are in actual
possession of a suitable nest, and takes possession of their home.
In such a case, the combat must be a sharp one, for both crow
and magpie are courageous birds, nothing inferior in deter-
mination to their assailant, and armed witli bills which are

THE KESTREL.— STARLING.— PURPLE GRAKLE. 291

much larger, and quite as formidable as that of the Sparrow-
Hawk.

The Kestrel {Tinjumaiius alaudarius) is also in the habit of
laying its eggs in the nest of other birds, and may possibly eject
the rightful owner by main force. This opinion is rendered pro-
bable by a fact mentioned by Mr. Peachey, in the ' Zoologist.'
A man was passing a tree, and hearing a loud screaming pro-
ceeding 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 {Stwnus 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. Every one who has a dovecote knows how apt are the
Starlings to usurp the boxes intended for the pigeons, and how
in consequence it is accused of killing the young of the pigeons,
and sucking their eggs, two accusations which I believe to be
wholly false. Were the Starlings to be thus predacious, the
pigeons would be quite aware of their depredations, and would
appear greatly disturbed whenever the robbers were seen. As,
however, the pigeons in one box live in perfect amity with the
Starlings in the next, it is very unlikely that the latter birds
prey in any way upon the former.

There is a group of birds which are popularly called Grakles,
and are scientifically known as Quiscalinae. 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 predacious birds are avoided and feared by
the rest of the feathered tribes, and if a hawk or eagle show
itself, the smaller birds either hide themselves, or try to drive
away the intruder by force of numbers or swiftness of wing. The

292 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

Purple Grakle, however, is devoid of such fears, at all events as
far as one species of predacious bird is concerned, and boldly
takes up its abode with the osprey or fish-hawk (Fa?idion
haliaetus).

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

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, —
several pairs of Grakles taking up their abode there like humble
vassals around the castle of their chief, — laying, hatching their
young, and living together in mutual harmony. 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 unoccupied
corner on the premises, had been anxious 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
depredators.'

The Purple Grakle is, however, perfectly capable of building a
nest for itself. Indeed, the generality of the birds build in tall
trees, usually associating together, so that fifteen or twenty nests

THE ICHNEUMON FLIES. 293

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 horsehair and very fine grasses. The
fact that the bird possesses this capability of nest-building,
gives more interest to the occasional habit of sharing its home
with the osprey — a pnvilege of which it seems to avail itself
whenever an osprey's nest is within reach.

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

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

Of Parasitic Insects, the greater number belong to that group
of hymenoptera which is called Ichneumonidas, 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 Ichneumonidae is that tiny creature
called Microgaster glomeratus.

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

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. Where it not for this
ichneumon, we should scarcely have a cabbage or a cauliflower
in the garden; for the noisome cabbage caterpillars would
destroy every leaf of the present plant, and nip the growth of
every bud which gave promise for the future.

294

STRANGE DWELLINGS.

Every one knows the peculiarly offensive caterpillars which
eat the cabbages, and which are the offspring of the common
large white butterfly. In t/ie spring, the butterflies may be seen
flitting about the gardens, settling on tlie cabbages for a few
moments, and then flying off again. They look very pretty,
harmless creatures, but, in fact, they are doing all the harm that
lies in their power. Forty or fifty eggs are thus laid on a plant,

'ARASITIC INSECTS.

COCOON OF OAK-EGGER MOTH.

{Cryptiisftanipennis. )

COCOON OF PUSS MOTH.

[Paniscus glaucopterus. )

COCOON FROM NEW SOUTH WALES.

[Ptmpla.)

COCOON OF GOAT MOTH.

i^Lamprosa setosa.)

and if only one quarter of the number are hatched, tliey are
quite capable of marring 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 existence, with a few short intervals, while
they change their skins.

THE ICHjSEUMON FLIES. 295

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
before the larva is about to pass into the pupal state, a number
of whitish grubs burst from its sides, and each immediately sets
to work at spinning a little yellow, oval cocoon. The walls of «
the cocoon are hard and smooth, especially in the interior; but
the outside is covered with loose floss-silk, which serves to bind
all the cocoons together. Generally, they are very loosely con-
nected , but a grcjup of these little objects is now before me,
where the cocoons are formed into a flattish oval mass, about the
size and shape of a scarlet-runner bean, split longitudinally, and
are bound so tightly together, that their shape can barely be
distinguished through the enveloping threads.

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

The groups of yellow cells are very plentiful towards the
middle of 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
interesting habitations.

The large oval cocoon was brought from New South Wales,

296 STRANGE DWELLINGS

and is evidently the produce of some lepidopterous insect, pro-
bably a moth allied to the silkworm. Upon the larva which
construoied the cocoon an ichneumon has laid her eggs, and
the consequence has been that the caterpillar has been unable
to change into the pupal condition, but has succumbed to the
parasites which infested it. These insects are not of minute
dimensions, like the Microgaster, but are tolerably large, and
in consequence can be but few in number. The cells are very
irregular in shape, and are not rounded like those of many
Ichneumonidae, but have angular edges.

Within the same case there are several cgcoons 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 quercus)^ the interior of which resembles that of the insect
which has just been described, except that the cells of the parasite
are more numerous. This species of caterpillar is peculiarly
subject to the attacks of the ichneumon flies, as is well known
to all practical entomologists, who lose niany of their carefully
bred specimens by means of these insects.

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

Those splendid insects which are popularly called Ruby-
tailed Flies, or Firetails, and scientifically are termed
Chrysididce, are also to be numbered among the parasitic in-
sects.

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, lays its eggs in the body of the
iarva, but makes its way into the nest while the rightful owner

THE GALL FLIES. 297

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

Then there are the Cuckoo Flies {Tachhice), which bear
some resemblance to the common house-fly, but w^iich are pa-
rasitic, feeding on the larvae of other insects, and selecdng the
same species 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 larvae of the mason bee were in a nest into which a
single egg of a Tachina had been introduced. The parasitic
larva devoured one of the rightful inhabitants, but did not
touch the other, and the cocoons of the bee and the Tachina
were formed side by side.

We now pass to a remarkable series of insects belongmg
to the same order as the ichneumons, but parasitic upon vege-
tables and not on animals. Their scientific name is Cynipidce,
and they are popularly known as Gall Flies, because they
cause those singular 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 differ from each other in size, form, and
colour.

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

In the left hand upper corner of the illustration is a figure of
an oak-leaf, upon which are two globular projections. These

298

STRANGE DWELLINGS,

are the well-known ' cherry-galls,' which are made by a little
insect called Cynips qiiercus-folii. They are beautifully coloured,
some being entirely scarlet, while others are white, orange, and
red, in various gradations, something like the colour of a nearly
ripe peach, or those of a Newtown pippin. Perhaps they bear
more resemblance to the apple than to the peach, because their

!ITISH GALLS.

Leaf Galls of Oak. Bedeguar of Rose.

Cynips KoUari (slightly magnified).
Oak Apple.

Galls of Cynips Kollari.
Currant Galls of Oak.

surface Is highly polished and shining, much like that of the
American apple.

These galls may be found in profusion upon the oak-leaves,
and are most plentiful upon pollard oaks, upon the youngest

BRITISH GALLS. 299

trees, or upon the oak underwood that sprouts around a felled
■Tunk.

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 tlie 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
receptacle which serves it at once for board and lodging, a
question naturally arises as to the manner in which it was
placed there. No aperture is perceptible in the gall, not a hole
through which air can reach the enclosed larva, which must,
therefore, be capable of existing without more air than can pass
through the minute pores of the vegetable 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 the manner in which a model of a waggon and four horses
can find its way into a botUe, the neck of which is so small as
to prevent even the head of the waggoner from passing. The
answer is similar in both cases. The bottle was ingeniously
blown over the waggon and horses, and the gall was formed
around the grub.

When its 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

500 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

closely allied to the ichneumon flies which have just been
described.

Running to and fro upon the leaf, she fixes upon one of the
nervures, and there remains for a short time, evidently busy
about some task, which is very important to her, but which her
minute size renders impossible to be observed with the naked
eye. If, however, a 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, having completed her task.
The whole proceeding, indeed, is, with the exception of the
deposition of the ^gg, precisely the same as that which takes
place when a wasp uses its sting, the ovipositor and sting
being but two slightly diff'erent forms of the same organ, and
the irritating fluid of the cynips being analogous to the poison
of the wasp.

The effect of the wound is very remarkable. The irritating
fluid which has been projected into the leaf has a singular
effect upon its tissues, altering their nature, and developing
them into cells filled with fluid. As long as the leaf continues
to grow, the gall continues to swell, until it reaches its full size,
which is necessarily variable, being dependent on that of the
leaf I have, for example, many specimens of these galls, of
different sizes, from which the insects have escaped, showing
that they had attained their full size. On the juices of the gall
the enclosed insect lives, until it reaches its full term of im-
prisonment, when it eats its way through the gall and emerges
into the wcrld. In some cases, it undergoes the whole of its
change within the gall, but in others, it makes its way out while

OAK-APPLES. 301

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-gail
presents no especial attraction, as it is simply, to all appearance,
a little black fly. When placed under the microscope, however,
it soon proves to be a really beautiful creature, though not pos-
sessing 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 com-
posed are so boldly defined, that even in so small an insect
they can be distinguished with a very low power of the micro-
scope. Indeed, the inch-and-a-half object glass is quite
powerful enough to define them, while the half-inch glass makes
them look like the pits in a lady's thimble.

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

The oak is a tree that seems to be especially loved by gall-
msects, 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 Cytiips tertni-
nalis. Although the insect is not of very great size, the gall
which it produces is sometimes enormous, being as large as a
common golden pippin or nonpareil apple, and therefore very
conspicuous upon the tree. It is coloured in the same manner
as the cherry-gall, but seldom sc brilliantly, and the exterior is
not so smooth and polished.

302 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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

If the oak-apple be cut with a knife, the first touch of the
steel betrays a marked difference between its 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. More-
over, 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 number, a kind of fibre runs toward
the base of the gall, and it is the opinion of some naturalists
that these fibres are in fact the nervures of leaves which would
have sprung from the bud in which the gall-fly has deposited
her eggs, and which, in consequence of the irritating fluid in-
jected into the tree, are obliged to develop themselves in a
new manner.

To procure the insects of this and many other galls is no
i^ery 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 had been bred,
never seem to tliink 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 enclosed insect becomes stunted, if not deformed.

The galls produced by Cynips terminalis are those which are
so greatly in request upon the twenty-ninth of May, and which,
wlien 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

OAK-APPLES. 303

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

I was totally unacquainted with them, but, in the following
year, found many of them on Shooter's Hill, in Kent, where
the growth of oaks is very dense. At the present day they have
increased so rapidly that they outnumber almost every species,
if we except the tiny spangle-galls; and I have bred great quan-
tities of the insect. The creature which made them is named
Cynips Kollai'i, in honour of the celebrated entomologist, and
is plentiful on the Continent. I believe that it has long been
known in Devonshire, though in Kent it has ^ply recently made
its appearance.

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

Natural powers are always adjusted to the work which their
possessors have to perform. The insect was gifted with the
capability of eating her way through the walls of her own habi-
tation, but not with the power of making a passage through

304 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

another gall afterwards. As a natural consequence, she has
died from exhaustion before she could emerge into the air;
and when I cut the double gall, in order to see how the inmates
had fared, I found the dead insect lying near the middle of the
second gall, so that she was even farther from the outer air than
when she started on her course.

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

Nearly in the centre of the illustration is seen a figure of
the well-known gall that is so common on the rose, whether
wild or cultivated, and which is popularly known by the name
of Bedeguar. This gall is caused by a very tiny and very
brilliantly-coloured 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 rosae deposits her eggs upon the rose, the efi"ects 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.

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 falHng
off at a slight touch, while others cannot be separated without

ROSE-GALLS. 305

the use of the knife. There are about thirty-five of these
^vooden knobs.

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

The cells are of difterent sizes, some being more than ten
times as large as others. The superior dimensions of the cell
seem to be obtained at the expense of the walls, so that the
large cells can be broken by the finger and thumb, while the
small cells cannot be opened 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 garden, but with plumper bodies.
In consequence of these two facts, the large, strong-jawed insect
can easily make its way through the comparatively thin walls of
the large cell in which it was enclosed, while the small and
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.

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

X

3o6 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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

The gall is so wonderfully bud-like that I have known the
two objects to be confounded — the immature acorns in theii
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 KoUa7-i has
formed so many galls, depend two slender threads support-
ing one or two globular objects. These are popularly called
Currant-galls, because they look very much like bunches of
currants from which the greater part of the fruit has been
removed. Their colour, too, is another reason for giving them
this name, as they are sometimes scarlet, resembling red cur-
rants, and sometimes pale cream colour, thus imitating the white
variety.

These galls are placed upon the catkins of the oak, which
are forced to give all their juices to the increase of the gall,
instead of employing them on their own development. Some
authors think that the insect which forms them is a different

SPANGLE^GALLS. 307

species, while others think that the galls are the production of
the same insect which forms the leaf-gall, the punctures being
made in the stalk of the catkin and not in the nervure of the
leaf.

That this supposition may be correct is evident from the fact
that the same insect which forms the oak-apples does also
deposit its eggs in the root of the same tree, causing large
excrescences to spring therefrom, each excrescence being filled
with insects. I have often obtained these root-galls, several of
which are now before me, some having been cut open, in order
to show the numerous cells with which they are filled, and others
left untouched, in order to exhibit the form of the exterior.
Being nourished by the juices of the root, they partake of the
sombre hues which characterise the part of the tree from which
they spring, and do not display any of the colours which are
seen on the oak-apples which spring from the twigs.

There are. however, distinct species of gall insects which
pierce the roots of the oak-tree. One of them is termed Cynips
aptera^ and makes a pear-shaped gall about one-third of an inch
in diameter. Each gall 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-
radicis, which forms a many-chambered gall of enormous size,
containing a small army of insects. Mr. Westwood mentions
that one of these galls in his possession was five inches long,
one inch and a quarter wide, and produced eleven hundred
insects, so that the entire number was probably fourteen or
fifteen hundred.

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

These objects had been observed for many years, but no one
knew precisely whether their growth was due to animal or vege

3o8 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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

Supposing a branch containing a number of infested leaves
to be placed in water and surrounded with gauze, it will die in
a week or two, and yet there will be no sign of an insect. If
the branch be kept until the winter has fully set in, the desired
insects will still be absent, and the experimenter will probably
think that his trouble has been thrown away. The real fact is,
that the little insects are not developed until' the spring of the
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
inhabited the galls to be Cynips longipennis, and has remarked
that the perfect insects do not make their appearance until the
month of March. I have had many specimens of this tiiw and
beautiful insect.

309

CHAPTER XXVI.

PARASITIC NESTS -{coTfcluded).

The Oak-tree, and its aptitude for nourishing Galls— Compound Gall6, or
one Gall within another— The Sensitive Gall of Carolina— Galls and the
Insects which caused them— Colours of Galls— Whence derived— The Galls
of various trees and plants— The Cynips parasites upon an insect— Galls pro-
duced by other insects — Mr. Rennie's account of the Beetle Gall of the
Hawthorn— The Beetle Gall of the Thistle— Dipterous Gall-makeks
—Animal Galls— The Chigoe and its habits— Its curious egg-sac- Difficulty
of extirpating it — The penalty of negligence — 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 cannot but notice the singular aptitude possessed
by the oak-tree for nourishing galls. No part of the tree seems
to escape the presence of a gall of some sort, diverting its vital
powers into other channels. The tree, however, does not appear
to suffer from them, and it is just possible that they may be
useful to it. The leaves are studded with galls, and so are their
stems. The branches are covered with galls of various shapes,
sizes,. and colours, some bright, smooth, and softly coloured, like
ripe fruit, others hard, harsh, spiny, and rough, as if the very
essence of the gnarled branches had been concentrated in them.
There are galls upon the flowers, galls upon the trunk, and even
galls upon the root.

Some oak-galls may be called compound galls. M. Bosc
mentions a small gall which is found upon the American oak.
It is not larger than a pea, and if shaken is found to contain
some hard substance loosely lodged in its interior. When the
gall is cut open, a very curious state of things is seen. The
walls are ver>' thin, so that in spite of the small dimensions, the

}io STRANGE DWELLINGS.

cell is larger than that of many cynipida;. Within the cell, no
insect is discovered, but in its place a little spherical object,
about as large as a No. 5 shot, which is very hard, and rolls
about freely in the interior. If this be opened, the larva is found
within it, reminding the adept in fairy lore of the white cat
whose gifts were enclosed in a succession of nuts, each within
the other. How these singular litde cellules are made is not
known, though their discoverer expended great trouble and
patience upon them.

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

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

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

COLOURS OF GALLS. 311

Botanists and physiologists will see that this idea is quite
groundless, but to the uninstructed and popular mind it has a
sort of plausibility that often commands assent. But when we
come to the oak-tree the case is at once altered, and some other
cause must be found for the lovely colours of its galls. The
cherry-galls are as brightly coloured as any apple, and the soft
hues of the oak-apple are nearly as beautiful though not so
brilliant. Yet the oak possesses no such store-house of colour
as is popularly attributed to the rose. Its leaves are simple
green, and its flowerets are so colourless as scarcely to be dis-
tinguished by the unassisted eye.

Whence then are derived these beautiful colours ? Some hasty
observers, who have neglected the first rule of logic, and drawn
an universal conclusion from particular premises, have said that
the colours of the gall are derived* from the insect: adducing,
as a proof of their assertion, the brilliant colours which equally
deck the rose-bedeguar and the Cynips 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 gene-
ralisation would never have been made. The cherry or leaf-gall
of the oak is every whit as gorgeously coloured as the bedeguar
of the rose, while the insect that made it is quite black. Tt 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 regu-
larly 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
ravages of these remarkable insects. The white poppy, from
which 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 sometimes does much damage to the plant, the delicate
divisions between the seed-vessels being rendered quite hard

3t2 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 tliat 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
relations of these insects with the following families {i.e. Evanidae
and Ichneumonidae) have been already noticed. It had always
appeared to me contrary to nature that a tribe of vegetable-
feeding insects should be arranged in the midst of parasites ;
nor was it until I had an opportunity of ascertaining the para-
sitic 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 para-
sitic or herbivorous nature* of these insects. In June, 1833,
I detected a minute species, Allotria vicirix, in the act of
ovipositing in the body of a rose-aphis, and I subsequently
succeeded in hatching specimens of the perfect insect from
infested aphides.'

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

' In May, 1829, we found on a hawthorn at Lee, in Kent, the

BEETLE-GALLS. -^13

leaves at the extremity of a bunch neatly folded up in a bundle,
but not quite so closely as is usual in the case of leaf- rolling
caterpillars. On opening them up, there was no caterpillar to
be seen, the centre being occupied with a roundish, brown-
coloured, woody substance, similar to some excrescences made
by gall insects {Cynips).

' Had we been aware of its real nature, we should have put it
immediately under a glass, or in a box, till the contained insect
had develoj^ed itself; but instead of this, we opened the ball,
where we found a small yellow grub coiled up, and feeding on
the exuding juices of the tree. As we could not replace the
grub in its cell, part of the wall of which we had unfortunately
broken, we put it in a small pasteboard-box with a fresh shoot
of hawthorn, expecting that it might construct a fresh cell.
This, however, it was probably incompetent to perform ; it did
not, at least, make the attempt, and neither did it seem to feed
on the fresh branch, keeping in preference to tlie 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 ofif, and from
the juices of the branch having been dried up, the insect went
through its regular changes, and appeared in the form of a small
greyish brown beetle of the weevil family.

' 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 deposited that causes the exudation and subsequent concretion
of the juices forming the gall.' Although the insect in question
succeeded in attaining the perfect state, it would probably be
of stunted growth in consequence of the deprivation of food.
Such, at all events, is the case with insects of other orders,
when their supply of food is at all checked while they are in
the larval state.

There is another weevil, scientifically called Cleonus sula-

314 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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

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

There are also gall-making insects among the Diptera. Such,
for example, is the Thistle-gall Fly ( Urophora Cardui), which
produces large and hard woody galls upon the thistle, as well as
several species of the larger genus Tephritis, some species or
which live in the parts of fructification of several flowers, the
common dandelion being infested by them.

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
habitation.

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
(Fulex penetrans)^ otherwise called the Jigger, or P2arth 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

THE CHIGOE. 315

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

Europeans and natives of the better caste escape easily
enough, because they always take warning by the first intima-
tion of a Chigoe's attack, and generally succeed in killing her
before she has succeeded in burying herself Moreover, the
shoes and stockings of civilised man protect his feet, and the
gloves guard his hands, so that the insect does not find many
opportunities of attacking the white man.

But the negroes, and especially the children, suffer terribly
from the Chigoe. Children never are very apt at sacrificing the
present to the future, and the negro child is perhaps in this
particular the least apt of all humanity. The Chigoe is in con-
sequence 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 expe-
rienced eyes of the matrons are constantly directed to the feet
of their children, and if one of them is seen to hold his toes off
the ground as he walks, he is immediately captured and carried
off to the operator, uttering dismal yells of apprehension.
He certainly has good reason for his fears. The Chigoe nest

3f6 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

is duly removed, and then, partly to prevent tlic hatching of any
^gg 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 move-
ments of a Chigoe, away he goes to have it removed before it
can burrow under the skin.

If the Chigoe be allowed to remain, the results are disastrous*.
Swellings make their appearance along the limbs, the glands
become affected, and if the cause is permitted to remain undis-
turbed, mortification takes place, and the sufferer dies. So the
red-pepper discipline, severe as it may be, is an absolute neces-
sity with those who are unable to reason rightly, or to exercise
forethought for the future. Every evening tlie negro quarter
of the villages is rendered inharmonious by the outcries of
the children who have neglected to report themselves in proper
time, and who in consequence are suffering the penalty of their
negligence.

There are some insects which produce upon animals certain
swellings which are analogous to the galls upon trees. Such, for
example, is the well-known Breeze Fly {CEsf?'us bovis), which
is so troublesome to cattle. The larvae of this insect live under
the skin of the animal, and in some manner raise a large swell-
ing, 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 enclosed insect feeds in a similar manner upon
the abnormal secretion which is induced by the irritation of its
presence.

The larvse 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
without any apparent channel of communication with the exter-

I

\

THE BREEZE FLy . 317

nal atmosphere, such is not the case with the inhabitant of the
animal gall. An opening is always preserved in the upper part
of the sweUing, and the tail of the grub is tightly pressed against
the aperture so as to ensure 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
fourteen upon a single animal. It is said that as many as forty
have been detected upon a single cow, but such an event has
not come within my own observation.

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

When the grub has reached its full development, it pushes
itself backwards 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 habitation in which the pupa lives. The head portion of the
skin is so formed that it flattens when dry, and can easily be
pushed oft", like the lid of a box, permitting the perfect fly to
escape. Even when the insect is still in its pupal condition this
lid can be removed, so that the pupa can be seen within its
curious habitation. I may mention here that insects which are
thus covered while in their pupal state, so as to show no traces
of the creature within, are said to undergo a ' coarctate ' meta-
morphosis. 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

3iB STRANGE DWELLINGS.

points of peculiar interest in the habitations which they make,
or in the places wherein they find their abode.

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

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

There is another beetle which is parasitic upon snails, and
which, in its larval and pupal states, is only to be found within
those molluscs. Its scientific name is Drilus flavescens, the
latter name being given to it in honour of its yellow-tinted
wing-cases, which present ■ a pretty contrast with the black
thorax. It is a little beetle, scarcely exceeding a quarter of an
inch in length, and is remarkable for the beautiful comb-like
antennae of the male. As for the female, she is so unlike her
mate that she has been described as a different insect. She has
no pretensions to beauty, and can scarcely be recognised as a
beetle, her form being that of a mere soft-bodied grub. More-
over, 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, antennae included.

THE DRILUS FLAVESCENS. 319

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 resem-
blance. 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 Ls
pointed, and the jaws are very powerful.

320 STRANGE DIVELLINGS.

CHAPTER XXVII.

BRANCH-BUILDING MAMMALIA.

The DOKMOUSE in Confinement, and at Liberty — Nest of the Dormouse — Its
position, materials, and dimensions — Entrance to the nest — The winter
treasury — The Loire and the Lerot.

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
division, but our little island produces two of them, namely,
the squirrel and the Dormouse {Muscardinus ave//afiarius).
The former of these animals have been already described at
page 1 1 8.

The pretty little brown-coated, white-bellied Dormouse is
familiar to all who have been fond of keeping pets. There is
no difficulty in preserving the animal in health, and, therefore,
it is a favourite among those who like to keep animals and do
not like the trouble of looking after them. It is, however,
rather an uninteresting 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 itselt a
very inartificial nest, because it is deprived of proper materials
and a suitable locality. It does its best with the soft hay and
cotton wool which are usually provided for it, but it cannot 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.

THE DORMOUSE. 321

One of these nests forms a part of my collection. It was
situated in a hedge about four feet from the ground, and was
placed in the forking of a hazel branch, the smaller twigs of
which form a kind of palisade round it. The substances of
which it is composed are of two kinds, namely, grass-blades
and leaves of trees, the former being 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.

Two or three kinds of grass are used, the greater part being
the well-known sword-grass, whose sharp edges cut the finders
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. Towards the bottom the finer sorts of glass are
used, as well as some stems of delicate cHmbing weeds, which
are no larger than ordinary thread, and which serve to bind
the mass together. 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 evi-
dently 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 enter the nest, the Dor-
mouse is obliged to draw aside certain broad grass-blades
which are ingeniously disposed over the entrance so as to hide
it. The pendent pieces of grass that are being held aside by
the little paw are so fixed, that when released from pressure,
they spring back over the aperture and conceal 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
hibernating 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

322 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

During the winter the animal does not feed much upon its
stores, inasmuch as it is buried in the curious state of hiber-
nation during the cold months. At the beginning of spring,
however, the hibernation passes off, and is replaced by ordinary
sleep, with intervals of wakefulness.

Now, while the animal hibernates, the tissues of the body
undergo scarcely any change, even though no nutriment he
taken. 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 therefore perish of hunger but for the stores which
instinct had taught it to gather in the preceding autumn.

323

CHAPTER XXVIIL

FEA THERED BRANCH-BUILDERS.

The Rook and its nesting-place— Materials and structure of the nesi— 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 Goldfinch and its home — Distinction between the nests of the Gold-
finch and Chaffinch— The Bullfinch — Locality and form of its nest— Vari-
ability of Structure — The Golden Oriole and its beautiful nest — Mode of
catching the Bird— 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 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 remarkable examples will be mentioned.

Perhaps the most conspicuous of all ordinary branch-nests
are those which are made by the Rooks 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.

324 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

The foundation of the nest is composed of sticks of various
sizes and lengths, all, however, being tolerably light and dry,
the 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 con-
venient 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 colour, the usual tint being
greenish grey, 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 labours 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 w^"^ nest. The young builders are sometimes
aggrieved at this distribution of labour, and try to equalize it
by helping themselves to the sticks belonging to other pro-
prietors. The general community, 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
labours 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
economy of the Rook, that, when it has abandoned its tem-
porary home, it does not choose to repose among the trees on
which the nest was made. Mr. Waterton, who possesses in-
valuable opDortunities tor studying the habits of this bird, and

THE ROOK. 325

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 waterfowl will flock in thousands
to the protected lakes, during the weary months of winter; but
when the returning sun spreads joy and consolation over the
face of nature, these congregated numbers are dissolved, and
the individuals retire in pairs to propagate their respective
species. The Rook, however, remains in society the year
throughout. In flocks it builds its nest, in flocks it seeks for
food, and in flocks it retires to roost.

' About two miles to the eastward of this place are the woods
of Nostell Priory, where from tune 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 N'ostell Priory. Every
momirig, 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
favourite places, farther and farther on ; some repairing to the
trees for pastime, some resorting to the fields for food, till the
declining sun warns those which have gone farthest that it is
time they should return. They rise in a mass, receiving ad-
ditions to their numbers from every intervening place, till they
reach this neighbourhood 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 awhile, in slow revolving circies, and then they all proceed

326 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

to Nostell Priory, which is their last resting-place for the
night.

' In their morning and evening passage, the loftiness or low-
liness 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
confines of Walton Hall. As has 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 ensures their freedom from all disturbance.

Very similar in general aspect to the rook, the Q.'SJ^^ {Corvus
coro7ie) 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 substances, hair and wool taking the place of fibrous
roots.

Viewed from the foot of the tree, the nest of the Crow is
nothing 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 some-
what like those of the rook, but darker and greener, and more
thickly spotted, though they are extremely variable in size and

THE CROW. 327

colour, and sometimes resemble so closely those of the rook
that the distinction can hardly be detected.

The Crow always builds at the tops of trees, and has a won-
derful 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 anyone to rob successfully. An experienced nest-hunter
is always endowed with a strong head, and ought to be perfectly
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
suspend 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
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 ex-
perience, 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 worthy of an ascent, for, even
should it be an old nest and deserted by the original inha-
bitant, there is always a possibiHty that it may have been
usurped by some hawk, whose beautiful eggs are always con-
sidered as prizes.

There is a splendid British bird, which is becoming scarcer
almost yearly, which makes a nest something like that of the

328 STRANGE DWELLINGS,

crow and rook, but much larger. This is the Heron {Ardea
cinerea)^ 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 soHtary 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 Walton Hall, however, the Herons are so fearless, through
long-continued 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 abmpt 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
so long a time the muscular energy which is expended in hold-
ing up the spare leg and keeping it tucked under the body.

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 forwards, the beak dis-
appears for a second among the reeds, and then emerges, with
a fish, frog, or water-rat in its gripe. The real beauty of the
Heron 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

THE HEROA/. 329

charms. As it stands in the water, intent upon catching prey,
the drooping feathers of its breast wave gracefully in the breeze,
and the ripples of the sunlit water are reflected in mimic waves
upon its grey plumed wings.

Generally it cares little for exerting itself until towards 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
Heron could catch them, and even if they did so, their size
would prevent the bird from taking them.

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 anyone who is permitted to cast a line into the water. I
am a very poor fisherman, and yet I never found any difficulty
in taking in the course of the morning quite as many fish as
could easily be carried home.

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

330 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

of rats in the brook ; but soon after the Herons had settled here
to breed, the rats became exceedingly scarce, and 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 tne Heron flies to its nest from any great distance, it
generally ascends to a considerable height, and is in the habit of
uttering a curious and very harsh cry, which at once tells the
naturalist that a Heron is on the wing. When a Heron passes
immediately 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
prevents it from assuming such an attitude, and that the long
Heron can sit as easily upon its pale green eggs as the sliort-
limbed domestic 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 other lands. It is scarcely possible to conceive a nest which
is more worthy of admiration than that of the Long-tailed Tit-
mouse, which has already been described ; and in their own
way, the houses erected by the Chaffinch and Goldfinch are
quite as beautiful. 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 conkbs).

Although the beautifully-spotted eggs are plentiful in the
collection of every nest-hunting schoolboy, they do not come
into his little museum for some time. The eggs of the black-

THE CHAFFINCH. 331

bird, thrush, and hedge-warbler are generally the first to be
found, because the nests in which they are contained are so con-
spicuous. But the nest of the chaffinch is never easily seen,
and its discovery requires a special training of the eye.

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 cannot 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, espe-
cially if they grow in thick hedges, are favourite trees with the
Chaffinch, and a luxuriant and untrimmed 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 directly from the body of the animal, but searching for
them in the crevices of the trees and posts against which the
cattle are accustomed 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 ensure 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
liairs of the cow predominate.

The texture of the nest is very strong, and, owing to the

332

STRANGE DWELLINGS.

nature of the materialSj 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

NKST OF GOLDFINCH

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 preparing their home.

As I have already mentioned, there is some resemblance

THE GOLDFINCH. 333

between the nest of the chaffinch and that of the Goldfinch
{Fringilla carduelis).

In point of beauty, neither yields to the other, for the mate-
rials 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 position of the two nests, however, is very different.
Instead 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 inwards, so that,
Avhen 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 Goldfinch-nest retained their position until the
branch was struck upwards close to the spot on which the nest
was made, all the previous agitation having failed to dislodge
them.

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
obtained 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 preference to any other material. On this soft bed
repose the five pretty e^gs, white tinged with blue, and diversi-
Aed with small greyish-purple spots. Now and then a small

334 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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
attractive to the birds. All the nests were built vQry low, seldom
more than four feet from the ground, and, to the best of my
recollection, were placed among the branches of hazel and dog-
wood. 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 foundation 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, rattier
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 con-
spicuously spotted.

In some works upon the eggs and nests of birds, the Bull-
finch 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

THE GOLDEN ORIOLE. 335

and low brushwood, and the Bullfinches always preferred the
latter. I certainly 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 nest.

The bird next on our list is rather variable in its nesting.

The Golden Oriole {Oriolus galbula) is seldom seen in
England, 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 towards the middle
of autumn, when it has indulged in fruit for some time and has
become 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 of man, and it haunts the orchard 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 mimicr}^, for
the bird has a critical ear, and if it detects the imitator, is sure
to sHp through the foliage and fly off" to its forest stronghold.

The nest of the Golden Oriole is always placed near the
extremity of a branch, and in some cases is so constructed that it
almost 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
in some cases it is scarcely deeper in proportion than that of the
goldfinch, and rather saucer-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

336

STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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

GOLDEN ORIOLES AND NEST.

perhaps remember that the wasp, as well as other hymenoptera,
lays an ^%g in the cell while it is yet shallow, and adds to the
cell in proportion to the growth of the grub. The time of year,

THE YELLOW-BREASTED CHAT. 337

theretore, at which the nest of the Golden Oriole is found will
have an influence on its shape, as the nest which is taken in the
early spring, before the eggs are laid, will probably be shallower
than that wnich 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 difl"erent 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 suff"er the hand to be laid upon her
before she will leave her post. In the illustration, the female
bird is standing upright on the branch, and looking upwards,
while the male is bending over the bough, and peering down-
wards, 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 yellowish green, the wings are brown, edged with
grey, and the black spot in front of the eye is altogether absent.
Moreover, the breast and belly are marked with many longitu-
dinal dashes of greyish brown.

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 orni-
thologist 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

338 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

cause it to follow the imitator for a long distance, although
it will under these circumstances keep itself hidden in the
foliage. Wilson's account of the curious sounds which it
utters is very graphic and interesting. *0n these occasions
his responses are constant and rapid, strongly expressive of
anger and anxiety, and while the bird itself remains unseen,
the voice shifts from place to place amongst 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 slower,
till they end in detached notes. Then a succession of others,
something Hke the barking of young puppies, is followed by
a variety of hollow guttural sounds, each eight or ten times
repeated, more like those proceeding from the throat of a
quadruped than that of a bird; which are succeeded by
others not unlike the mewing of a cat, but considerably
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
manoeuvres of ventriloquism, you are utterly at a loss to ascer-
tain from what particular spot or quarter they proceed. If
the weather be mild and serene, with clear moonlight, he con-
tinues gabbling 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
hanging, descending, as he rose, by repeated jerks, as if highly
irritated, or, as is vulgarly said, "dancing mad." All this
noise and gesticulation we must attribute to his extieme affec-
tion 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

THE RINGDOVE. 335

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 line is formed of dried grasses and fibrous
roots of plants.

Of our four British pigeons, two are branch-builders. The
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 Turtle-
dove 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 the nest of a
magpie, containing seven eggs, which were removed and those
of the jackdaw 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 mag-
pies, 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 mstinctively that she would

z 5

340

STRANGE DWELLINGS.

not be endangered by her neighbours, 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 flat 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

RINGDOVE AND NEST.

of the platform, that when the two white eggs are laid upon it
they can be discerned from below by a practised 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 cer-
tainly be sheltered by the warm body and protecting wings, but

THE WATER HEN. 341

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 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 bodieb
of the young from the wind, and has the further effect of con-
solidating and strengthening the nest.

Although the nests are plentiful enough, and the eggs are
common in the cabinet of oologists, it is not very easy to find
a nest that is furnished with this curious plaster, probably be-
cause some one of the many foes which persecute the Ringdove
has discovered the nest, stolen the eggs, or killed the parent
before the young birds were hatched.

It has already been mentioned that, with many branch-build-
ing 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 Ringdove. 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 (C^/«^^^^ turtiir) builds a nest of very similar
form, and, if possible, even slighter in construction.

The well-known Water Hen or Moor Hen {Gallinula
Chloroptis) always places its nest 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
among sedges and rushes where the water cannot reach it. The
Water Hen, however, is not averse to nesting in a warm and
comfortable place, for Mr. Waterton mentions that on one occa-
sion, when he had built a neat httle brick house for a duck, and
furnished it with dry hay for a nest, a Water Hen took posses-
sion of it, and the duck had to find a home elsewhere.

342

STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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

WATER HEN AND NEST.

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 water, and the nest looks like a bunch of

THE WATER HEN. » 343

weeds and other debris that have floated down the stream and
been arrested by the branch.

The simihtude is increased by a curious habit of the bird.
VVhen 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
unfrequently found with the eggs exposed, but this apparent'
negligence 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 neighbourhood of water
being imagined to be injurious. As, however, many birds build
as close to the water as does the Water Hen, and do not covei
the eggs, it is evident that concealment and not warmth is the
object to be attained.

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 enemies in its youth,
the worst of which is the pike, which comes up silently from
below, opens its terrible jaws, and absorbs the unsuspecting
bird.

344 ' STRANGE DWELLINGS.

CHAPTER XXIX.

FEA rilERED BRANCH-BUILDERS— [concluded).

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 — Colour of the eggs — The
Indigo Bird —The Capocier — Familiarity of the bird — Le Vaillant's
experiments — How the nest is made — Division of labour — Lovers' quarrels —
Structure of the nest — Humming-birds again — The Fiery Topaz — 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 Hum-
ming Bird — Variable dimensions of the nest — Concealment — Mr. Webber
and his discoveries — Variable form and positions of the nest — Materials ot
which it is made — Its deceptive exterior — Feeding of the young — The Red-
backed Shrike — Use of the Shrike in falconry — Their singular mode of
feeding — Impaied prey — Conspicuous character of the nest — Popular ideas
concerning the Red-backed Shrike — Structure of the nest.

Another bird that loves to build near water is the j)retty little
Sedge Warbler {Salicaria phragmitis).

The nest of thisLird 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 sup-
posed from the size of the bird and the slender stems by which
it is supported. 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

THE REED WARBLER. 345

reeds and sedges will always induce it to recommence its little
song.

A REMARKABLY beautiful nest is built by one of the British
birds, but is not often found, on account of the localities where
it is placed.

The architect of this nest is the Reed Warbler {Salicaria [or
Currucd\ arundinaced). 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. R. 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 wedged-shaped tail are useful to
the bird by enabling it to gHde between the tall aquatic plants
among which it resides and finds its food. Of the Reed War-
bler he writes as follows : —

* 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
unyielding 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 leaning step, though upon an emergency it can cling
to an upright 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 ready when a gust comes, to
bear it to a more secure footing. Its food is found wholly over
the stagnant waters. The Reed Warbler does not come until the
reeds- are considerably advanced, and it departs before they are
cut; so that it dwells in peace, and especially in the mornings

346 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 naturahsts are likely to look for it
in the spots which it frequents. Tlie 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
various and unknown depths, as is the case in the great reed
swamps where the birds most love to build. Even the song of
the Reed 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, and is remarkably deep in proportion 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 unless it were very deep the eggs would be flung out. The
great depth, however, of the nest counteracts the deflection of
the reeds ; and, however fiercely the storm may rage, the Reed
Warbler sits securely in her nest, even chough it be sometimes
nearly bowed to the surface of the water. The materials of the
nest are generally taken from the immediate neighbourhood, the
body of the nest being composed of broken rushes and moss
bound together with reed leaves, and the lining made almost
wholly of cows' hair.

THE CAPOCIER. 347

Many foreign birds are excellent branch-builders.

In Southern Africa there is a small, simply coloured, but
interesting bird, called by Le Vaillant the Capocier {Drymoka
7naculosa) 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 begin
ning 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 continually flying off with them, some-
times stealing a piece that was nearly as large as both the birds
together.

Struck with this sudden fancy of the birds, Le Vaillant
determined 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
described. Le Vaillant soon discovered that the legitimate sub-

348 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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
found that upon the naturalist's table was always a plentiful
supply of vegetable down and fibres ready plucked, they m
geniously saved themselves the trouble of collecting, and simply
lesorted to the hospitable tent.

The male was the principal collector of materials, and the
female 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
actively 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 labours, 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 sur-
prised and angry at the female. In order, however, to save the
fabric from spoliation, she left off working, and fled from busli to
bush, for the express purpose of teasing him. Soon afterwards,
having made matters up again, the female returned to her
labour, and the male sang for several minutes in the most

THE CAPOCIER, 34^

animated strains. After his song was concluded, he began again
to occupy himself with the work, and with fresh ardour carried
such materials as his companion required, till the spirit of frolic
again became buoyant, 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 cer-
tainly the privileged creatures of nature, thus to work and sport
alternately, as fancy prompts them.

• On the third day the birds began to rear the side walls of
the nest, after having rendered the bottom compact by repeatedly
pressing the materials with their breasts, and turning them-
selves round upon them in all directions. They first formed a
plain border, which they afterwards trimmed, and upon this they
piled up tufts of cotton, which was fitted into the structure by
beating and pressing 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 enveloped 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 anxious
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 ^gg in
it, as it was not then quite covered in.

' This beautiful edifice, which was as white as snow, was nine
inches in height on the outside, whilst 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 enclose ;
but the inside exactly resembled a pullet's egg placed with the
smaller end upwards. 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 beauti-

350 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

ful 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 up-
holding a much greater weight than would be introduced into
it. To pull out a tuft of the cotton-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 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
Buonaparte calls it the most beautiful of the Trochilidae, and it
is hardly possible to imagine a bird that can surpass it in bril-
liancy. The body is fiery scarlet, the head velvet-black, the
throat glittering 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 approaches it in beauty. This is the
Crimson Topaz {Topaza pelia), a bird which is nearly allied to
it, and which much resembles it in general colouring. It may,
however, be distinguished by the colour of the body, which is
crimson instead of scarlet.

The nest which is built by the Fiery Topaz is really a won-
derful structure.

Its shape is remarkable, and is well shown in the illustration.
It is fastened to the branch with extreme care, as is clearly
necessary 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

THE FIERY TOPAZ.

351

coarse buff leather, and was so similar in hue to the branches
that surrounded it, that it seemed more like a natural excres-
cence 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

FIERY TOPAZ AND HERMIT.

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 illustradon. The
non-botanical reader may form an idea of the appearance of

352 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 {Phaethornis eurynome)^ belonging to
the pretty little group which are popularly called Hermits, and
which may be recognised by the peculiar shape of the tail,
which is regularly 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 rather various, consisting of vegetable
fibres, especially those downy, cotton-hke filaments which are
furnished by so many plants, of 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
Ruby-throated Humming Bird {Trochilus colubris), which is
generally accepted as the typical species. This lovely bird is
plentiful 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 colour of the body is green, and the wings are
purple-brown. The two sexes are coloured 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 museums and
ornamental cases than this, because it is as plentiful as it is
lovely. That it should be plentiful, or indeed that any species
of Humming Bird should be anything but scarce, is matter of

HUMMING BIRDS. 353

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 cannot but notice that the
nest of this Humming Bird is even smaller than the size of its
occupant 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
cannot be discovered except by a practised nest-hunter, so
closely 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 cannot follow her
movements, and she is fairly seated in her nest before the spec-
tator 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 Ruby-throats,
and determined to find a nest, so that he might obtain the
young. After finding that a pair of Humming Birds had been
seen near a certain spot on a river, he set himself determinately
to discover 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
fi-om 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 Ruby-throat. He had been in vain looking for a nest.

A A

354 STRANGE DWELLINGS-

when ' chance favoured 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 iron-wood tree, that happened to be exactly in the line
of my vision at that instant.

' In about five minutes another chirp and another bird darting
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 anything 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
suppose 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
upon other limbs all round it, that the prospect of finding it
seemed a hopeless one ; but, " I'll try, sir," is my favourite
motto. I laid myself down as nearly as possible in the position
which I had originally occupied, but, after some twenty minutes'
experiment, 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

I

HUMMING BIRDS.

355

the tree, and commencing at the tiiink, 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 persevered. 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 tlie 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 gHstening back and wings of the httle 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-
wards, 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 to me to gaze
on my long-lost treasure. Its pure white breast — or throat rather,
for the breast was sunk in the nest — formed such a sweet and
innocent contrast with the splendour of its back, head, and
wings.' The capture of the little birds which were afterwards
hatched in that nest served to set at rest the question of the
Humming Bird's food. They lived mostly on syrup, 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 Ruby-throated Humming Bird seems to be
rather variable in form and material and situation, but has
always a peculiar character which enables the experienced
observer to recognise it. According to Wilson, it is sometimes
fixed on the upper part of a horizontal branch, as was the case
with the nest so graphically described by Mr. Webber. Some-

A A 2

356 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

times 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. Gene-
rally, 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
are so carefully woven together that they form a tolerably
stout wall. Upon this wall are stuck quantities of a light grey
lichen which is found on old fences and trees, so that the ex-
ternal appearance 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 minute pearly eggs.

The nest is not merely placed upon the branch, because in
that case it would present a decided outline, and be compara-
tively easy of recognition. On the contrary, the base of the
nest is partly continued round the branch, so that the whole
fabric rises gradually 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.

In the hedgerows of our own country may often be found a
nest which is not only pretty in itself, but remarkable for its
accessories. This is the home of the Red-backed Shrike
{Enncoctoiius collurio).

The predatory habits of the Shrikes are well known, and one
species, the Great Grey Shrike (Lafiius excubitor), was formerly
used as a falcon for the purpose of catching winged game. True,

THE RED-BACKED SHRIKE. 357

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
exceeding 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 flocke together presently at her call and voice, ai
what time if any happen to approach neare her she out of hand
ceazeth on them, and devoureth 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
valour or hardiness, nor yet deserving to have any more written
upon her propertie and nature. For truly it is not the property
of any other 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 stoop-
ing, as the hawkes of the tower doe most commonly use, as the
falcon," gerfalcon, sacre, merlyn, and such like.'

The Shrikes have a peculiarity whicli is not shared by any
other predacious 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 Grey
Shrike will thus transfix 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

3SS STRANGE DWELLINGS.

does not always 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
holding its prey is quite a mystery. Some have said that the
digestive organs of the Shrike are incapable of dissolving fresh
meat, and that the bird is obliged to render its prey semi-
putrid by exposure before it can venture to make a meal. But,
as the Shrike frequently eats a little bird or insect as soon as
it is caught, this theory 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
prefer to hang them near their nests. The Red-back Shrike
makes insects its chief prey. The nest of this Shrike always
affords a curious 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
attention. 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,
settling near the top of a hedge, and wagging its long tail up and
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 gene-
rally 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 black-
bird 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 continues 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,

THE RED-BACKED SHRIKE, 359

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-huntec*
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 im-
paled creatures at hand, and that when it eats one it catches
another, and with it replaces the one which has been eaten.
In consequence of this notion, which prevails through several
countries, the bird is called Nine-killer. The generic name,
Enneoctonus, is composed of two Greek words which have a
similar signification. So strongly is this idea held by some
persons, that I have seen a treatise upon instinct, where the
Shrike was gravely produced 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
conspicuous nest.

}6o STRANGE DWELLINGS.

CHAPTKR XXX.

BRANCH-BUILDERS.

SPIDERS AND INSECTS.

Remarkable Spider Nests in the British Museum — Seed-nests and Leaf-nests —
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 — 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 — The Apoica and 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
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 speci-
mens. Still, they are so curious that they have found a place
in this work, and it is to be hoped that the very fact of their
publicity will induce travellers to search for more specimens
and to describe their history.

Differing as they do in shape, colour, 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 illustration may be seen a number of long, spindle-shaped
bodies, suspended from a branch. These are drawn about half

SPIDERS.

361

the full size, in order to allow other specimens to be introduced
into the same illustration for the purpose of comparison. In
colour 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.

Immediately below these nests may be seen a singular-looking
object, which few would recognise as the work of a spider. Such,

PENSILE SPIDERS NEST.

however, is the case, the creature being urged by instinct to
take several concave seed-pods, and to fix them together, as
seen in the drawing. The seed-pods are fastened firmly to-
gether with the silken thread of which webs are made, and in
the interior the eggs are placed. The drawing is reduced

362 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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
specimens. 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 t.gg 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 re-
gularly built up of a great number of pieces, each being arranged
methodically upon the other, very much as children in the
streets build their oyster-shell grottoes. The labour hiust 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.

In the accompanying 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
agitated. It is made by an insect belonging to the genus Icaria.
Perhaps my readers may remember that on a former page
the celebrated 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

THE HEXAGONAL PRINCIPLE.

363

that the cell is made hexagonal by the cutting away of mate-
rial 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.

MISCHOCYTTARUS.

RAPHIGASTER.

These questions were briefly mentioned, because an entire
omission of them would appear negligent, but they were not
followed up because the nests that would set them at rest be-
longed to another group. We will first take the central nest.

364 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 incomplete, 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 example, is perfectly free on five of its sides, being only
attached to the neighbouring cell by the sixth side. Com-
pression, 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 look-
ing at this group of cells, can deny that the hexagonal form is
produced by the direct labours 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
sufficiently stiff to need no support of contiguous cells. Now
tne 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
varied, the insect having been forced to employ different sub-
stances in forming its home, as is seen by the pale and dark rings
alternately surrounding the cells. The insect which makes this
curious home is of moderate size, and is greyish-black, banded
with yellowish-white. The abdomen is tolerably stout and sharp-
pointed, and is attached to the thorax by a short brownish foot-

THE RAPHIGASTER GUINIENSIS. 365

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 maybe seen a very remarkable
triple nest depending from a branch. This is the work of an
insect called Mischocyttarns labiatus, which belongs to the family
Polistidse. Like the nest of the preceding insect, it is attached
to the bough by a slender and tolerably long footstalk, and the
mouths of the cells are downwards, 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
illustration, 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
v/hich 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 ate constructed ; or very much, indeed, as the roadway
of a suspension 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 Raphi-
GASTER GuiNiENSis, and, as its name implies, it is a native of
Western Africa.

The nest consists of a group of long cells, and suspended from
a footstalk. 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 towards the mouth, like a reversed
sugar-loaf

366 STRANGE DWELLINGS,

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 retain 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-
fectly hexagonal throughout, although some of them are only
attached 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
cannot 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, dehcate, 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
perhaps an inch in length. The colour is pale yellow, and the
abdomen is much elongated, and attached to a slender footstalk
or peduncle nearly as long as itself. Several of the cells have
been occupied by larvae which have begun to assume the pupal
condition, as is shown by the white covers over their mouths.

One of the most remarkable of these branch-buildnig insects is
that which has been appropriately named the Processionary
Moth {^Cnethocampa 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.

THE PROCESSIONARY MOTH. 367

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 larvae
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 foraging expedition.

A single caterpillar is always the leader, and often is followed
by one or two others in Indian file. Presently, however, the
caterpillars march two deep, and, if a large number should be on
the move, the hne 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.

The reader may remember that two species of wasp, namely
Vespa vulgaris and Vespa 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 off-
spring of one mother. Mr. Rennie, however, carried the experi-
ments 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, or even to the same genus. The experiment which we
tried was, to confine two broods of difi'erent 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-tail moth (Forthesia auriflua) and the
lackey (Clisiocampa 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 encountered the brown tails they manifested no

368 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

alarm nor 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 lo
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 cater-
pillars experimented with must feed upon the same sort ol
plant/

One remark ought to be made on this interesting narrative.
The author lays some stress on the fact that the two insects
belonged not only to different species, but to different genera.
It must, however, be remembered that although the distinction
of insects into species is easy enough, their grouping into genera
is quite arbitrary, depending entirely on the classifier. Linnaeus,
for example, divided all the butterflies into two genera, while
the modern classification admits somQ thirty genera. While,
therefore, 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 larvae are still more unlike. They have,
however, this point of similarity, that they construct large
dwellings 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 colours 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 defence
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 pro-
duces the same effect on eggs as lacquer does upon polished

THE BROWN-TAILED MOTH. 369

metal, preserving the surface and defending it from moisture,
the insect is called the Lacquer, a word which has been cor-
rupted 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 larvae of the little
ermine moth, which has been already described, they continually
spin a single silken thread as they go along, and are, therefore,
provided 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 paler streak. As there is another allied species, which lives
on various seaside 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 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 nume-
rous 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 larvae, and, as they are hatched late in the
autumn, they spin a joint web, in which they can be secure
throughout the winter months. As the brood is mostly nume-
rous, 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

370

STRANGE DWELLINGS.

nest of the gold-tailed moth, it is divided into chambers, and is
externally irregular in form, depending entirely for its shape
upon the locality in which it is constructed.

Even in this country it is sometimes plentiful enough to
annoy the farmer, who does not Hke to see his hedgerows dis-
figured 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 agriculturist, whole rows of trees having been stripped

APOICA, 371

of their leaves, and the denuded branches covered with the
sheets of web in which lay the destroying armies.

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
to be observed in them ; at all events no rule has, as yet, been
discovered by which their formation is guided ; neither has
any conjecture been formed as to the reason for the remarkable
forms which they assume.

Perhaps, of all the nests in the splendid collection of the
British Museum, there are none that cause so much surprise as
the wonderful group which is represented in this illustration.
Many 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 towards
it, they never fail to express their surprise at so curious a struc-
ture, and their admiration of the manner in which these natural
homes are constructed.

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, wliich 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.

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 hexa-
gonal, 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

It B 2

J72 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

wash to pieces any nest whereon the falHng drops could make
a lodgment. The surface is therefore as smooth as that of the
v£irious 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
resemblance 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 colour,
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 suc-
cessive 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 clearly marked as in those homes which are
defended from the weather by earth or wood. Our temperate
region knows no such sudden vicissitudes of weather as take
place near the equator, and there is no need for insect habita-
tions 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 detected upon it.

Agreeing in general appearance, the nests vary somewhat in
colour. 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, however, boldly departs from the general uniformity, the
surface being not only reddish brown over its whole extent, but
as rough 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 grey.

JVESTS OF APOICA. 373

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 larvee attain a tolerably
uniform 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 "hexagonal 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 clue 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
pressure 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
cover 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 tlirough-
out the nest, the inhabited cells are arranged in the most

374 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

systematic manner, a group occupying the centre, and being
surrounded 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 i\i\Q 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 colouring. Even the wings have
the same pallid hue as the body, but with a white cast, and
altogether the insect seems far too purposeless of aspect to
construct houses which demand so much energy as those which
we have just examined.

Our last example of insect pensile nests is, I believe, one
that has not yet been described, owing to its recent arrival in
this country.

Whilst 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 Housebuilder Moth (see page i66), but with a
singular addition. Several specimens are now before me, which
will be briefly described.

The foundation of the nest is a structure of leaf-stems and
fragments of leaves, vaiying much in size, some being thicker
than crowquills, and others as fine as ordinary needles. These
are arranged cross-wise upon each other, so that the nest might
easily be mistaken for that of a large caddis-worm. The nests,
however, differ much in form, size, and material, — some being

CURIOUS NESTS. 375

half as large again as others, and some being made ahiiost
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
50 view its structure.

The outer covering is remarkably close, stiff, and tough,
although very thin, and crackles like parcliment as the
scissors pass through it. When cut, it is found to be almost
distinct from the nest which it covers, V)eing 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 pene-
trate them. I nearly broke a moderately fine pair of scissors
m a vain endeavour 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 crossed upon each other, much as confectioners
cross sticks of chocolate, 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 completely 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 always towards 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
resembling 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 pro-

376 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

tecting chevaux-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 become familiar with the objects which at first are
new and strange 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 description being given of them, and no clue 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
number of nests were sent as they were collected from the
branches, and, in order to show that the architect is not confined
to one species 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 pupae
would become moths in the course of the voyage, Mr. Tom-
kinson placed a number 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
previously 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

THE HEDGEHOG NEST. 377

pupal states, she seems to return to her former condition, and
would be taken by any ordinary 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 rather curious that the males should
ever be able to find their spouses, but they are probably led by
an instinct which we cannot comprehend, 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 colour, being simple brown, with a few
black markings on the wings. The antennae, however, are very
beautiful, being doubly feathered, like those of the Housebuilder
Moth, to which the insect is closely allied, 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 beaudful
nests were brought to the Museum by E. H. Armitage, Esq.,
who kindly presented me with the specimens which have been
described.

A SOMEWHAT similar nest, but of a much more formidable
aspect, was discovered by W. B. Lord, Esq., R.A., and has been
figured in the Boys' Own Magazine for August, 1864. 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 sUcking it full of porcupine quills, with
the points radiating on every side. The following is Mr. Lord's
own description : —

* On looking closely at the thorny, sinuous branches, we sliall
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 " tree-caddis," which, as far
as I know, are as yet undescribed by anyone. Their cases are
curiously armed with thorns, nipped from the tree on which
they hang. The thorns are all disposed with their points out-

.578 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

wards, 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 chevaux-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
conspicuous for the thorns with which their branches and some-
times their trunks are studded, and in several species the
wooden bayonets are several inches in length, and as large and
sharp as porcupine quills. These thorns are crowded thickly on
the branches, and always diverge from each other, so that the
hand can scarcely be insinuated among the boughs without
suffering several 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 witliin.

The thorns are equally efficient as a means of concealment,
for, as they are taken from the tree itself, they cause the nest to
harmonise so perfectly with surrounding objects, that it is not
very easily perceived.

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 wlien the pupal stage has nearly arrived, the nest is
suspended to the branch by strong silken threads, and thence-
forth remains immoveable

379

CHAPTER XXXI.

MISCELLANEA.

The Raft Spider— Why so called— Mode of obtaining prey—Mice and theit
homes— The Campagnol or Harvest Mouse— Its general habits— Its winter
and summer nest— Its storehouse 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
Clothes Moths and their various species— Habitations of the Clothes Moth,
and the method of formation and enlargement — The Elk and its winter
home— The snow fortress and its leaguers— Its use, advantages, and dangers
— The Albatros and its mode of nesting — Strange scenes— The Edible
Swallow — Its mode of nesting — Origin of its name — Description of the nest
— The Eagle and its mode of nesting — Difficulty of reaching the eyrie— The
Nightingale and its nest — Other ground-building birds and their temporary
homes — The Noddy — Perilous position of the eggs, and young — The Coot,
and its semi-aquatic nest.

In this, the concluding chajoter, are described sundry habitations
which cannot well be classed in any of the previously mentioned
groups, and which present some peculiarities which render them
worthy of a separate notice.

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 Avhich it has caught, and in which
it brings up its young. There is another spider which frequents
the water, but which only makes a temporary and moveable
residence. This is the Raft Spider {Dolomedes fimhriatus)
which is represented in the illustration of its natural size.

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-
ing more upon the dimensions of the body than the length of
the limbs. It is a remarkably handsome spider, its general

38o

STRANGE DWELLINGS.

colour being chocolate-brown, and a broad orange band being
drawn so as to mark the outhne 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 colouring. 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

RAFT SPIDER.

may fairly be said to belong to the large group of wolf spiders,
and is nearly allied to them.

The Raft Spider is only to be found in fenny or marshy places,
and is mostly seen in the fens of Cambridgeshire, where its
remarkable habits have long been known. Not content with
chasing 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

THE RAFT SPIDER. 381

leaves and similar substances, which it gathers into a rough ball,
and fastens with silken threads. On this ball the Spider sits,
and allows itself 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
remain 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 afl'ord the easiest prey to the Raft Spider, who pounces
upon them as they vainly struggle 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 descend below the surface of the water, and
will often crawl several 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 quiedy 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.

3cS2 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 men-
tioned. 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 arvmsis).
This pretty little creature, whose red back, grey 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, harmonise so well with the
colour 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 at cricket was proceeding, and to cross
the closely-mown space between the wickets, as if serenely con-
scious 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. But if a more attentive observer finds that in
a few seconds the ruddy patch has changed its place, his sus-
picions are at once aroused, and he examines the moving tint
more curiously. He must, however, keep his eye upon it as he
moves towards it, for if he once loses sight of it, he will in all
probability miss it altogether, and think that his eye must have
deceived him.

Towards the evening, however, the Campagnol is less fearful,
and not only traverses the fields, but ascends the shrubs and

I

THE SHORT-TAILED FIE'LD-MOUSE. 383

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 claws of a monkey. An autumnal
evening is the best time for watching the Campagnol, and if
the observer will only remain perfectly quiet, and keep a good
opera -glass in readiness, he will be greatly interested by the
little animal. 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 mohes
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 ploughed up.

Besides the winter nest itself, the animal has a storehouse or
cellar in which are placed the provisions intended for winter
use, when the weather y)rohibits the Mouse from leavmg its
home, or when the surrounding shrubs and bushes are plundered
of their fruits and denuded of their bark. In this storehouse
the animal conceals quantities of hips and other provisions,
among which are found numbers of cherry-stones.

584 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 help-
less creatures, being both blind and naked. They leave the nest
in about a month, but remain with their parents for some time
afterwards.

' 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
com, 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 herds 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 admission 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 marvellous, 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 endeavour to conceal it from observation as well
as they can, by drawdng round it the neighbouring grasses and
plants.'

The same writer remarks that he has several times caught the

THE LONG-TAILED FIELD MOUSE. 385

Short-tailed Field Mouse in the hedges while * bat-fowling ' at
night for small birds. He has also found that when the Mouse
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
eating 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
slightly to the stalks, or dropping them on the ground. In the
former case the stones are sure to be flung down when the legi-
timate owner gathers the fruit, so that the Mouse who is fortu-
nate enough to live in a cherry-growing district is sure of a
winter stock of food. Several hundred cherry-stones are some-
times placed in a single storehouse, 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 schoolboys 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
contrives to extract the solid kernel.

The Long-tailed Field Mouse or Wood Mouse {Mus syl-
vaticus) 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 habits of storing up its winter stock of
provisions. 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
cc

386 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 enclosed 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 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
tnusculus).

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, and cuts to pieces, books, newspapers, curtains, or
garments.

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.
Towards the middle of winter, the shed was cleared out, and
the flower-pots removed. While carrying them out of the shed
the owner 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

THE COMMON MOUSE. 387

from the same aperture, showing that a nest lay beneath the
soil. On removing 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
cany it away, so as to form a cavity for the reception of their
nest. They did 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 laboriously 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, it had placed its home near the ground. A
Mouse of original genius saw the nest, and perceived its value.
Accordingly, she built her own nest immediately below that of
the bird, so that she and her young were sheltered as by a roof.
So closely 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 feather,
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 mero

388 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 feathers 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 re-
lative that built in the garden ; for, by placing her nest in such
a position, she not only secured the very best materials for her
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.

Our 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 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 cor-
responding to the neck of the bottle. In this remarkable domi-
cile 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
underside, so that the soft materials of the nest would exclude
the light; but the Mouse had simply formed a comfortable
hoUow for her young, and therein she had placed her offspring.

THE COMMON MOUSE. 389

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.

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

MOUSE NEST IN BOTTLE.

having been made of paper. On examination, the material of
the habitation 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 ex-
cavated, the copy-book found and cut into suitable pieces, the

390 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 exterminate 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 female, or queen, has a cell distinct from the habitation of
her subjects, and that she never leaves it until her death. In
order that the reader should understand more fully the
structure of the royal cell, an illustration of it is here intro-
duced.

When viewed from the outside, it would hardly be recognised
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 little holes may be seen, and these apertures afford an un-
failing indication 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. i. The large
hollow 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 section of the little holes, which are shown to be cylin-
drical passages communicating with the interior of the cell.
The worker Termites, being very small, can traverse these
passages with perfect ease, while the enormous body of the
female is utterly unable to pass.

Through these passages the workers are continually passing,
some entering with empty jaws, and others emerging, each
holding 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

WHITE ANTS.

391

shown the queen, and in the right hand of Fig. i 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 m
size, as, if she had been drawn of her full dimensions, she would
have occupied the whole length of the drawmg. Before she is
immured in the royal cell, she is by no means a large msect,

392 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

the abdomen being in ordinary proportion to the thorax and
head. But, when she has been fairly installed in her office
her abdomen begins 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 produce, 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 are taken from
specimens in the British Museum, and in the cell which is
here figured, the outline of the queen is quite perceptible, having
been impressed on the interior of the cell. The mode by which
it is enlarged is also shown, a further 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 enclosed queen. I have seen them as large
as cocoa-nuts, and of an extraordinary weight, the greater por
tion of the mass being solid clay.

There are many insects whose habitations are peculiarly
annoying 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
several 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, vegetable fabrics being not to their taste. Some species
affect dried insects, and are in consequence extremely hateful
to the entomologist ; 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 wins^ed state, the moths" themselves do no direct

CLOTHES MOTH. 393

harm ; but their young are doubly mischievous, firstly, because
they devour the fabrics in which they live, and secondly, because
they cut up the cloth, fur, or feathers, in order to obtain mate-
rial for their home. Possibly for the sake of concealment as
well as protection, the larva instinctively forms a habitation
which entirely covers its white body, and which is almost im-
perceptible to the eye, because it is formed of the same mate-
rials as the fabric on which it lies.

The habitation is tubular in form, though not exactly cyHn
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 rejoins 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 pre-
cisely as it had done to the first part. When the soft tube is
sufficiently widened, it is lengthened by the addition of rings to
each extremity.

By taking advantage of this peculiar method of house-making,
observant persons have forced the Clothes Moths to make their
tubular homes of any colour and almost of any pattern. By
shifting the caterpillar from one coloured cloth to another, the
required tints are produced, and the pattern is gained by watch-
ing 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

394 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

made its tube, it can be 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 comple-
mentary colours of green and scarlet are brought into juxtapo-
sition, and ' thrown up ' 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. Rennie 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 {Hepialus hwnuli)^ where, find-
ing 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 offence at our disturbing it one day, or whether it did not
find sufficient food in the body of the ghost-moth, we know not;
but it left its cork house, and travelled about eighteen inches,
selected the " old lady " moth {Mormo maurd)^ 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 buttei-fly 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
difficulty 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
within its reach, provided it is dry and free from fat or grease,
which Reaumur found it would not touch. For building, it
always selects the straightest and loosest pieces of wool ; but for
food it prefers the shortest and most compact ; and to procure
these, it eats into the body of the stuff, rejecti-ng 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

THE ELK. 395

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
astonishing certainty any substance which may afford food to
its future young. Stuffed birds suffer terribly from the moth,
because 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 bemg eaten, and nothing left but the bare skins.

Even the most deadly poison, corrosive sublimate, is not
effectual, 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, especially about the neck. There is also in
my collection a Kafhr shield, made of an ox-hide, which has
been washed with the solution, and is almost entirely secure
from the depredations of the moth. Yet there are one or two
spots where a thong has protected the hair, and in those very
spots the pertinacious moths have laid their eggs, and, in
several instances, the caterpillars have succeeded in attaining
their perfect state.

The Elk, or Moose {Alces malchis)^ 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 powerful animal, measuring sometimes seven feet in height
at the shoulders— a height which is very little less than that of
an average 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 m^ny perils.

In its native country the snow falls so tliickly, that the
inhabitants 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 fortifications rise above each other, the walls bemg

396 STRANGE DWELLINGS,

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 con-
siderable 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 competent 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 occasion an Elk was seen to trot
uninterruptedly over a number of fallen tree-trunks, some of
which were nearly five feet in diameter.

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
animal 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 skilful 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 faUing on the snow produces
a rather curious effect. The frozen surface only partially melts,

THE ELK-YARD. 397

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 compara-
tively small animals, such as wolves, especially when they rur
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
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
habitation 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
victims

398 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

The Elk is not the only animal that makes these curious
fortifications, for a herd of Wapiti deer will frequently unite in
forming a common home.

One of these ' yards ' has been known to measure between
four or five miles in diameter, and to be a perfect network of
paths sunk in the snow. So deep indeed is the snow when
untrodden, that when the deer traverse the paths, their backs
cannot 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 habi-
tations in which they can remain concealed, because they are
taught by instinct how to make their domicile harmonise with
the surrounding 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

EDIBLE SWALLOW. 399

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 remark-
able species called the Edible or Esculent Swallow {Collocalia
nidifica). The popular name is given to it, not because itself is
edible, but because its nest is eaten in some countries.

We have all heard of birds'-nest soup, and some of us may
possibly have imagined that the nests in question are made of
the ordinary vegetable substances, such as moss, leaves, and
twigs. Some persons have thought that the material is fish
spawn, while others think that it is secreted by certain glands
situated in the throat, and therefore produced entirely by the
bird. The real material is clearly a kind of seaweed. I possess
some of this substance, which, when dried, is colourless and
translucent, exactly like the nest. When placed in boifing
water, it swells into a gelatinous mass, quite tasteless, as is the
nest itself, and capable of being drawn into fibres like those of
which the nest is made.

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, &c., and are extremely
local, being confined to certain spots. The birds always choose
the sides of deep cavernous precipices, so that the task of
obtaining 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 caverns in which the nests are placed are extremely valuable,
and are preserved with jealous care from any intruder.

400

STRANGE DWELLINGS.

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 towards the ex-
tremity. 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 it is somewhat oval, but the base is necessarily flat, on
account of its attachment to the rock.

EDIBLE SWALLOW.

The material is so translucent, that when placed on printed
paper 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 innu-

THE EAGLE, 401

merable glutinous threads, which have been drawn irregularly
across each other, and have hardened by exposure to the air
into a material which much resembles isinglass. The natives
say that the construction of a single nest occupies a pair
of birds for two full months ; so that there is some proba-
bility 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
gelatinous 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, how-
ever, far too costly to be obtained by any but the rich, the best
quality fetching rather more than sixty shillings per pound.

There are at least four species of swallow that make these
curious nests, and the natives say that the entrance to the caves
is always 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 intruders, and endeavour to knock down their nests with
stones. The nests are very small and shallow, and seem
scarcely capable of accommodating 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 oflf abruptly near
the handle.

None of the purely predacious 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 sdcks 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

DO

402

STRANGE DWELLINGS.

is not unlike the nest of the osprey, which has already been de-
scribed, 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
larder, on which are deposited the birds, hares, lambs, and other
animals which the parents have killed and brought home.
Sometimes the nest will be amply supplied with food, but

THE NODDY. 403

sometimes the parent birds are obliged to hunt daily. Young
eagles are voracious 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 hfe, the
eagle tears the prey into little pieces, and impartially distributes
the bleeding moisels to the gaping and screaming offspring.
Afterwards, however, when the young eagles have gained
strength of 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 being 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 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 apparently little or no olfactory sensibilities. The
stench that arises from an inhabited Eagle's-nest is quite beyond
the power of description, for the young Eagles themselves are
not the sweetest beings in the world, and their evil odour is
supplemented by that 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 {Atious stolidus).
It is a species of Tern, and has long been celebrated among

o Da

404 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

sailors for the ease with which it can be captured, especially if
the daylight has departed.

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 seaweed, 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 seaweed that is sometimes more than two feet in
thickness, and of considerable width. The bird is gregarious
in its nesting, the rocky ledges being crowded with the rude
nests, and the odour that proceeds from them being absolutely
intolerable to human nostrils. The eggs are rather pretty, being
of an orange colour, 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
hardly be classed in any of the preceding groups, and therefore
takes its place among the miscellaneous habitations-

It is not built in the branches, nor in a hole, nor suspended
fiom a bough, nor absolutely on the ground. It is always set
very near the ground, and in most cases it is scarcely raised
more 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
aWays welcome to the egg-hunter.

THE WANDERING ALBATROS, 405

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
seldom 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 withm
hearing.

The Wandering Albaxros {Diomedea exulans), the gianl
of the petrel tribe, makes its nest after a peculiar fashion. ^

It chooses the summit of lofty precipices near the sea audits
nest maybe found most plentifully in Tristan d'Acunha and
the Marion Islands. The Albatros is lord of the country and
no other living being seems to intrude upon its nestmg place
So completely do the birds feel themselves masters of the
sLtion! that if a human being penetrates to their haunts
t^ey 5tly move about as if he were non-existent, and do not
Tppear to take the least notice of him. On such elevated
Sns thtcold is necessarily intense, but the Albatros cares
no for the cold, and brings up its white-coated young in a
temperature that few human beings like to endure longer than

"No'particular bed seems necessary for ^-/^>^-\^^^^^^
bird simply deposits it on the bare ground, and then scxapes

4o6 STRANGE DWELLINGS.

earth round it so as to form a small circular wall. If their
nest be approached very closely, the alarmed parents snap
their bills like angry owls, and if they wish to be very aggres-
sive they discharge from their bills a quantity of oil ; but they
seem to have no ideas of actual fight. The Albatros lays only
one egg.

Our last sample of ' Homes without Hands ' is the ingenious
structure that is made by the Coot (Fulica aira\ the Bald
Coot as it is sometimes called, on account of the homy plate
on the forehead, which is pink during the breeding season, and
white during the rest of the year. Although the general colour
of the 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 favourite 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 contrives to make its nest in such a manner
that it cannot 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 dimen-
sions, 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 profusely spotted
with irregular brown marks.

INDEX

Aard Varlc, 85
Acciptter, 290
Acheta, 98
/Egeria, 114
Agelena, 178
Agricultural Ant, 221
Albatros, 405
Alcedo, 35
Alcts, 395
Amazon Ant, 282
Amphitrite, 243
Andrena, 81
Anous, 403
Ant, Agricultural, 221

— Amazon, 282

— Brown, 78

— Coushie, 74

— Driver, 274

— Dusky, ^^

— SaUba, 74

— White, 207, 390
Ants, Foraging, 217
Ant-eater, Porcupine, 30
Ant-lion, 99
Anthidium, 110
Anthrocera, 169
Apoica, 370

Aquila, 401
Arctia, 168
Ardea, 329
Argyronetra, 229
Anomma, 274
Arvicola, 382
Athene, 16
Atlas Moth, 165
^//a, 221
Aiypus, 67

B

Badger, 13
Bajjerkeit, 25

Baltimore Oriole, 142
Batikin, 289
Baya Sparrow, 148
Bear, Arctic, ii

— Black, 22

— Brown, 22

— Polar, 21

— White, 21

— - Woolly. 168
Beaver, 245
Bee, Hive, 259

— Humble, 82

— Hoop-shaver, 110

— Lapidary, 84

— Rose-cutter, 107

— Willow, 107
Beetle, Burying, 92

— Clock, 94

— Dor, 94

— Musk, 106

— Sexton, 92

— Tiger, 91

— Wasp, 105

— Watchman, 94
Bettong, Brush-tailed, 180

— Pencilled, 180
Bettongia, 180
Bird, Bower, 202

— Cataract, 130

— Cow, 288

— Fire, 143

— Hanging, 144

— Lyre, 201

— Oven, 184

— Tailor, 124
Birgus, 50
Blackbird, 188
Blue-faced Honey-eater,

289
Bob-o'-link, 145
Bombus, 82-84
Boring Snail, 53
Bosjesman, i
I Bower-bird, 202

Brazilian Wood-nymph,

141
Breeze-fly, 316
Breeze-fly Clear-wing, 114
Brown Ant, 78
Brown-tail Moth, 272-367
Brush-tailed Bettong, 180
BuUen-Bullen, 201
Bullfinch, 334
Burnet Ichneumon, 161
Biumet Moth, 169
Burrowing-owl, 16
Burying Beetle, 9a

Caddis, 233

— Shrimp, 244

— Tree, 377
Campagnol, 382
Campanular Wasp, 154
Canada Pouched-Rat, 19
Capocier, 347
Cassicus, 146
Cassique, Crested, 146
Castor, 2^$

Cataract Bird, 130
Celery Fly, 176
Cerambyx, 106
Cerapus, 244
Chaffinch, 330
Chat, Yellow-Breasted.

337
Chelidon, 190
Chelura, 51
Chicken, Mother Carey's,

41
Chigoe, 314
Chilabothrus, 45
Chipmuck, 18
Chipping Squirrel, 18
Chlamyphorus, 23
Chrysidida, 396

4o8

INDEX.

Churr-worm, 97
Cicindela, 91
Clear-wing Moths, 114
Cleonus, 313
Clerus, 318
Clisiocampa, 367
Clock Beetle, 94
Clothes Moth, 392
Clytus, 105
Cnethocampa, 366
Coccygus, 288
Cojera, 30
Collocalia, 399
Columba, 39, 339
Coot, 406
Corvus, 39, 326
Cossus, 112
Cotile, 32
Coushie Ant, 74
Cow-Bird, 288
Crab, Fighting, 49

— Land, 47

— Racer, 49

— Robber, 50
Crested Cassique, 146
Cricket, Mole, 96

— Field, 98
Croaker, 97
Crow, 326
Cryptus, 294
Cuckoo, 288
Cuckoo Fly, 297
Curruca, 345
Cushat, 339
Cynipidee, 2g7

Date, Shell, 59
Dicaum, 133
Digger, i
Diomedea, 405
Dog, Prairie, 14
Dolomedes, 379
Dor Beetle, 94
Dormouse, 320
Dove, Ring, 339

— Rock, 339

— Slock, 339

— Turtle, 341
Drilus, 318
Driver Aal, 2rj\
Drymoica, 347
Dusky Ant, 77
Duck-bill, 27
Dutchman's Pipe, 15a

Eagle, 401
Earth-fly, 314
Echidna, 30
Eciton, 217
Edible Swallow, 399
Elephant-shrew, 10
Elk, 395

Emerald Throat, 353
Enneoctonus, 356
Entomophila, 132, 133
Entomyza, 289
Epeira, 66, 177
Ephemera, 98
Eriogaster, 170
Esculent Swallow, 399

Fairy Martin, 189
Fan-tailed Warbler, 125
Fiber, 182
Field Cricket, 98

— Mouse, Long-tailed,
385

— Short-tailed, 382

— Vole, 382
Fiery Topaz, 350
Fighting Crab, 49
Fire-bird, 143
Flies, Gall, 297
Fly, Breeze, 316

— Celery, 176

— Cuckoo, 297
Flycatcher, Great Crested,

147

— Red-eyed, 147

— White-eyed, 148
Fly, Earth, 314

Fly, Ruby-tailed, 296
Foraging Ants, 217
Formica, jj, 78
Fox, II
Fratercula, 37
Fringilla, 330, 333
Fulica, 406
Fumarius, 184

Gall Flies, 297
GaU-Fly, Thistle, 314
GalUria, 116
Gallinula, tax

Gaper, 56

Garden Spider, 177
I Gasterosteus, 225, 227
I Gastropacha, 170

Gecarcinus, 47

Gelasimus, 49

Geometric Spider, 177

Geotrupes, 94

Goat Moth, 112

Gold-capped Weaver-bird,
123

Golden Oriole, 335

Golden Robin, 143

Goldfinch, 333

Gold-tailed Moth, 271

Goliathus, 96

Gopher, 19

Grakle, Purple, 291

Grallina, 186

Great-crested Flycatcher,

147
Great Grey Shrike, 356
Grey-throated Hermit, 139
Gribble, 52

Grosbeak, Sociable, 251
Gryllotalpa, 96
Grypus, 141

H

Hackee, 18
Hanging Bird, 143
Hang-nest, 143
Hare, 398

Harvest Mouse, 117
Hawk, Sparrow, 290
Helix, 54
Hen, Moor, 341

— Water, 341
Hermit, 352

— Grey-throated, 139

— Little, 137

— Pigmy, 139
Heron, 328

Hill-star, White-sided, 140
Hirundo, 189-191
Hive Bee, 259
Honey-comb Moth, 116
Honey-Elater, Blue-faced,
289

— Lanceolate, 135

— Painted, 132

— Singing, 130

— White-throated, 133
Hoop-shaver Bee, no
Hombills, 193

I

INDEX.

409

Hornet, 267

House-builder Moth, 166
House Martin, 190
Humble Bee, 82
Humming-Bird, Sawbill,
141

Icaria, 362
Ichneumon, 293
Ichneumon, Burnet, 161
Icteria, 337

J

[ackdaw, 39
[annocumbine, 30
[erboa Kangaroo, 180
figger, 314

K

Kangaroo, Jerboa, 180
Kestrel, 291
Kingfisher, 35
Korw^, 193

Lackey Moth, 367
Lamprosa,, 294
Lanceolate Honey-eater,

135
Land Crab, 47
Lanius, 356
Lapidary Bee, 84
LazotcBnia, 173
Leaf-miners, 175

— rollers, 171
Lepus, 17
Lictor Moth, 167
Limnoria, 52
Limpet, 57
Lion, Ant, 99
IJthodomus, 60
Little-egger Moth, 170
Little Hermit, 137
Long-tailed Field Mouse,

385

— Titmouse, 195
Luscinia, 404
Lycosa, 67, 381
Lyre Bird, aoi

M

Macroscelides, 10

Magpie, 199

Mahali Weaver-bird, 122

Mallangong, 28

Manis, 25

Martin, Fairy, 189

— House, 190

— Sand, 32
Mayfly, 98
Megachile, 107
Meles, 13
Menura, 201
Microgaster, 161, 293
Micromys, 117
Mischocyttarus, 365
Mole, 2

— Cricket, 96

— Shrew, 10

— Water, 27

I Moor Hen, 341
Moose, 395
Moth, Atlas, 165

— Brown-tailed, 272

— Brown-tail, 367

— Burnet, 169

— Clothes, 392

— Goat, 112

— Gold-tailed, 271

— Honeycomb, 116

— Housebuilder, 166

— Lackey, 367

— Lictor, 167

— Little-egger, 170

— Oak-egger, 170

— Processionary, 366

— Small-ermine, 270

— Tiger, 168

— Vapourer, 168

— Wolf, 115

Mother Carey's Chicken, 41
Mouse, 386

— Harvest, 117
j Mulo, 19

I Mud Wasp, 285
i Mus, 385, 386
I Muscardinus, 320

Muscicapa, 147, 148

Musk Beetle, 106

— Rat, 10, 182
Musquash, 182
Mya, 56
Myrapetra, 156
Myrmeleon, 99

\A'/\rinica, 273, 284
\Myogalea, 10

N

Nectarinia, 159
Nicobejan, 30
Nightingale, 404
Noddy, 403
Norwegian Wasp, 153
Northern Wasp, 154

Oak-egger Moth, 170
Oak Moth, 171
Ocypode, 49
CEcodoma, 74
(Estrus, 316
Oiketicus, 165, 166
Ondatra, 182
Orchard Oriole, 145
Oreotrochilus, 140
Origmx, 130
Orgyla, 168
Oriole, Baltimore, 149

— Golden, 335

— Orchard, 145
Orniihorhynchus, 27
Orthotomus, 124
Orycteropus, 25
Osmia, 108
Oven-bird, 184
Owl, Burrowing 16

Painted Honey-eater, 132

Paniscus, 294

Parus, 195

PelopcBus, 214

Pencilled Bettong, 180

Pensile Spiders, 360

Petrel, Stormy, 39

Phaethornis, 137, 139, 35a

Philetcerus, 251

Pholas, 58

Piddock, 58

Pica, 199

Pichiciago, 23

Pied Grallina, 186
j Pigeon, Wood, 339

Pigmy Hermit, 139

Pimpla, 294

Pipe, Dutchman s, 15a

Pirate Spider, 381

Platypus, 27
\ PUctorhynchus, 135

4IO

INDEX,

Pliopasser, 122
Ploceus, 122, 123
Polar Bear, 21
Polistes, 158, 163
Politician, 148
Polybia, 256
Polyergus, 282
Porcupine Ant-eater, 30
Porthesia, 271, 367,
Pouched Rat, Canada, 19
Prairie Dog, 14
Processionary Moth, 366
Pseudostoma, 19
Ptilinus, 104
Ptilonorhynchus, 202
Ptilotus, 130
Puffin, 37
Pulex, 314
Purple Grakle, 291
Pyrrhula, 334

Q

Quiscalus, 391

Rabbit, 17

Racer Crab, 49

Raft Spider, 379

Raphigaster, 365

Rat, Canada, Pouched, 19

— Musk, lo, 182
Rattlesnake, 16
Razor Shell, 60
Red-backed Shriker, 356
Red-eyed Flycatcher, 147
Reed Warbler, 345
Ring-dove, 339
Robber Crab, 50
Rock-dove, 339

— Warbler, 130
Rook, 323

Rose-cutter Bee, 107
Ruby Throat, 352

— tailed Fly, 296

Sabella, 241
Saturnia, 165
Scarabaus, 94
Salicaria, 125, 344
Sand Martin, 3a

Saiiba Ant, 74

Saw-bill Humming Bird,

141
Scolia. 81
Scolytus, 102
Scorpion, 64
Sedge Warbler, 344
Sericornis, 127
Sexton Beetle, 92
Sheldrake, 39
Shell-binder, 237
Shipworm, 61
Short-tailed Field-mouse,

382
Shrew-elephant, 10

— mole, 10

Shrike, Great Grey, 356
— Red-backed, 356
Shrimp, Caddis, 244

— Wood-boring, 51
Singing Honey-eater, 130
Sir ex, no

Small Ermine Moth, 270
Snail, Boring, 53
Snake, Yellow, 45
Sociable Grosbeak, 251

— Weaver Bird, 251
Solen, 60
Sparrow, Baya, 148

— Hawk, 290
Spermophilus, 14
Spider, Garden, 177

— Geometric, 177

— Pensile, 360

— Pirate, 381

— Raft, 379

— Trap-door, 68

— Water, 229
Squirrel, 119

— Chipping, 18
Starling, 291
Sticklebacks, 225, 227
Stockdove, 39, 339
Stormy Petrel, 39
Siurnus, 291
Swallow, Chimney, 191

— Edible, 399

— Esculent, 399

Tachina, 297
Tixdorna, 39
Tailor Bird, 124
Tambrect, 28
Tamias, 18

Tarantula, 67
Tatua, 151
Tau(5ca, 217
Teredo, 61
Termite, 207, 390
Tephritis, 176
Terebella, 237
Testudo, 44
Thalarcios, 21
Thalassidrotna, 31^
Thalurania, 142
Thistle Gall-Fly, 314
Thrush, 188
Tiger, 399,

— Beetle, 91

— Moth, 168
Tinea, 115, 392
Tinnunculus, 291 314
Titmouse, Long-tailed, 196
Tockus, 193
Tohxmbuck, 28

Topaz, Fiery, 350
Topaza, 350
Tortoise, 44
TortHx, 171
Toucan, 193
Trap-door Spider, 68
Tree Caddis, 377
Trichoptera, 233
Trochilus, 352
Troglodytes, 200
Trypoxylon, 214
Tardus, 188
Turtle Dove, 341

U

Urophora, 314

Vapourer Moth, 168
Vespa, 85, 153, 154, 215.

267
Vulpes, II
Vole, Field, 382

W

j Warbler, Fan-tailed, 135
: — Reed, 345
j — Rock, 130
— Sedge, 344
I Wasp, 85, 315, 267

INDEX.

411

Wasp Beetle^ 105

— Campanular, 154

— Mud, 285

— Northern, 154

— Norwegian, 153
Watchman Beetle, 94
Water Hen, 341

— Mole, 27

— Spider, 229
Weasels, 13

Weaver Bird, Gold-cap-
ped, 123

— Mahali, 122

— Sociable, 251
Whip-Tom-Kelly, 147
Wliite Ant. 207, 39c

White Bear, 21

White-eyed Flycatcher,
148

White-sided Hill Star, 140

White-throated Honey-
eater, 133

Willow Bee, 107

Wish-ton-wish, 15

Wolf Moth, 115

Woolly Bear, 168

Wood-boring Shrimp, 51

Woodnymph, Firazilian,
141

Woodpeckers, 42

Wood-pigeon, 339

Woodquest, 339

Wren, 200
Warbles, 317

Xanthornis, 145

Yellow-breasted Chat, 33,
Yellow Snake, 45
Yphantes, 142
Yponomeuta, 270

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