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OF REALITY

IC-NRLF

HOWANIMALS WORK

THE LIBRARY

THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA

PRESENTED BY

PROF. CHARLES A. KOFOID AND
MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID

ROMANCE OF REALITY * SERIES
Edited by ELLISON HAWKS

HOW ANIMALS WORK

VOLUMES ALREADY ISSUED

1. THE AEROPLANE.

By C. GRAHAME-WHITE and HARRY HARPER.

2. THE MAN-OF-WAR.

By Commander E. H. CURREY, R.N.

3. MODERN INVENTIONS. By V. E. JOHNSON, M.A.

4. ENGINEERING. By GORDON D. KNOX.

5. ELECTRICITY. By W. H. McCoRMiCK.

6. GEOLOGY. By A. R. DWERRYHOUSE, D.Sc.

7. HOW ANIMALS WORK. By F. MARTIN DUNCAN.

"ROMANCE OF REALITY" SERIES

HOW ANIMALS
WORK

F. MARTIN DUNCAN

F.R.P.S., F.R7M.S.

LONDON : T. C. & E. C. JACK, LTD.

35 PATERNOSTER ROW, E.G.; & EDINBURGH

1919

JD f

L I

PREFACE.

IN the following pages I have tried to present to my
readers a point of view of the great realm of animal
life which has not received so much attention as
some others, and which I venture to believe will be
found of considerable interest -namely, animals as
craftsmen : as the builders of imperishable monuments
that will long outlast the most magnificent ever con-
ceived and executed by man ; and as the artificers of
the daintiest, most fairy-like structures, so frail as to
last but a few short hours. Some of the most beau-
tiful of these works are accomplished by creatures
quite low down in the scale of animal life — creatures
destitute of brain or vision, little better than mere blobs
of protoplasmic jelly, yet gifted with selective powers
of a high degree in the gathering of their building
materials, and of extraordinary skill in the construc-
tion of their exquisite homes. The animal craftsman
has many lessons to teach, and at the same time pre-
sents many interesting problems that have yet to be
satisfactorily answered ; while careful observations of
the methods of working, of the materials used, and the
design of the completed structure, as peculiar to closely
related species, will often reveal unsuspected steps in
the history of their evolution.

Prqface.

I have carefully avoided all technical terms as far
as possible, and endeavoured to tell the story of some
of the wonders of Animal Craftsmanship in plain and
simple language ; for this little book is intended for the
general reader, and not for the expert who has a store-
house of technical literature at his disposal.

The very wealth of material from which to draw
has been something of an embarrassment, where limited
space has made it possible to give only a brief survey
of certain forms, making it necessary to be somewhat
drastic in the selection of examples. However, my
guiding idea in their selection has been to place before
the reader, as far as circumstances would permit, the
most striking examples, and, at the same time, those
which the reader can in a large number of cases see
for himself, either during his rambles in the country,
or by visiting any well-ordered natural history museum.

If these pages should serve to awaken a new interest
in the marvels of Nature and the wonderful skill dis-
played by such varied forms of animal life, and perhaps
stimulate the reader to seek himself for further examples,
then my labours have not been in vain, and this volume
will have justified its existence.

F. MARTIN DUNCAN.

CONTENTS

CHAP. PAGE

I. SOME MICROSCOPIC BUILDERS g

II. ISLAND AND REEF BUILDERS . . . 17

III. THE SHELL-BUILDERS . . . . .27

IV. SOME CURIOUS TUBE-BUILDERS . . . -43
V. FISH AS NEST-BUILDERS . . . . 56

VI. WONDERS OF INSECT ARCHITECTURE: SOCIAL BUILDERS 65

VII. WONDERS OF INSECT ARCHITECTURE : SOLITARY

BUILDERS . . . * . • 79

VIII. ANTS AND TERMITES . . . . .100

IX. WEAVERS AND SPINNERS . . . . .122

X. MINERS, DIGGERS, AND CARPENTERS . . .163

XI. SOME BIRD ARCHITECTS . . . . .189

XII. SOME FOREIGN BIRD ARCHITECTS . . .210

XIII. MAMMAL CRAFTSMEN ..... 240

XIV. WORKERS IN PLANT TISSUES .... 250

LIST OF PLATES

HUMMING BIRDS (in Colour) . . . Frontispiece

PLATE FACING PAGE

I. THE WONDERFUL FLINTY STRUCTURES OF THE RADIO-

LARIA ....... 8

SOME OF THE MICROSCOPIC FORAMINIFERA . . 8

II. FORAMINIFERA FROM THE FLOOR OF THE SEA ^ .16

A SECTION OF NUMMULITIC LIMESTONE . . .16

III. THE DEVONSHIRE CUP CORAL . . . .24

TYPES OF SOLITARY "MUSHROOM" AND "Cup" CORALS 24

IV. A SPRAY OF REEF CORAL . . . -32

V. A GROUP OF SHELLS . . . . .40

A GROUP OF MARINE TUBE-BUILDING WORMS . . 40

VI. THE ANT-LION LARVA . . . . 56

STRANGE HOUSES . . . . . 56

VII. TYPES OF TREE-WASP NESTS . . . .64

THE MOLE CRICKET . . . 64

VIII. A QUEEN TERMITE OR WHITE ANT AND AN ORDINARY

WORKER TERMITE . . . ,. .104

Two VERY REMARKABLE PSYCHE CATERPILLAR GARMENTS 104

IX. THE GARDEN SPIDER AND TARANTULA . . .128

X. NESTS OF AN AUSTRALIAN TRAP-DOOR SPIDER . . 144

A TRAP-DOOR SPIDER'S NEST, WITH "WAFER" TYPE

OF DOOR . ^» . . . 144

XI. WORKERS IN SILK . . . . .156

XII. THE NEST OF THE SONG THRUSH . . .192

XIII. THE NEST OF THE LESSER REDPOLE . . . 200

XIV. THE REED WARBLER'S NEST . . . .208
XV. THE WONDERFUL NEST OF THE TAILOR BIRD . .232

XVI. THE NEST OF THE WEAVER BIRD . . . 240

viii

PLATE I.

•

THE WONDERFUL FLINTY STRUCTURES OF THE RADIOLARIA.

They are so minute that the microscope is required to make their beauty visible.

SOME OF THE MICROSCOPIC FORAMINIFERA.

They build the daintiest shells, resembling in shape the shell of the Great Nautilus.

HOW ANIMALS WORK.

CHAPTER I.

SOME MICROSCOPIC BUILDERS.

YV7E are accustomed to consider the construction
VV of some finely proportioned building, or the pro-
duction of a beautiful casket richly carved and moulded,
essentially as work only to be attained by the creative
brain and skilled fingers of the highly trained human
craftsman. But to-day I would like to introduce you
to quite another type of craftsman or builder — one who
cannot definitely be said to possess any imaginative
brains or deft fingers, and is destitute of sight and
special tools, and yet is capable of constructing out of
lime and silica the most exquisite caskets, spheres,
spires, cornucopias, fretted, pierced, and bearing the
most delicate sculpturings and tracery imaginable, yet
all on so minute a scale as only to be made visible by
the magnifying powers of the microscope. If we were
to look at one of these brainless, sightless workers under
the microscope after its tiny fairy mansion had been
dissolved away, we should see that it appears to be
just a minute blob of semi-transparent jelly, a speck
of protoplasm, capable of certain streaming movements,

How Animals Work.

of sending out delicate threads or strands, mere elon-
gations of the body mass, for the capture of food par-
ticles from the surrounding sea water in which it lives,
and from which it extracts the carbonate of lime it
uses as building material. Indeed, this little jelly-speck,
denuded of its elaborate house, is almost exactly like
the Amoeba, the most primitive form of animal life ;
for, like that microscopic animal, it has no definite
organs save the nucleus which is the vital part of all
living cells, and can take in food particles at any part
of its body, stream rather than creep along, and ulti-
mately divide into two identical jelly-specks. But in
place of the blunt, finger-like elongations which the
Amoeba pushes out as it moves along, our little builder
puts forth delicate threads. I am sorry to say this
interesting little creature has no popular name, it and
its kin being known as the Foraminifera — a term first
used by D'Orbigny to express the fact that the chambers
of their microscopic mansions communicate by minute
pores, and not by a tubular passage or siphon as in
the chambers of the home of the Nautilus, to which
animal he thought them to be related.

The exquisite shells of the Foraminifera are, for the
most part, many-chambered, and often so strongly re-
semble those of the Nautilus and the Spirula that in days
gone by the old naturalists, to whom their true struc-
ture was unknown, thought them to be related closely
to the Nautilus and Cuttle-fish. Thanks to the high
perfection of the modern microscope, their true nature
has been revealed, showing not only the difference in
the character of their bodies by which the shells are
formed, but also the very different position of the body

Some Microscopic Builders.

in relation to the shell — anatomical details into which
we need not enter here, it being sufficient to note that
while the Nautilus inhabits but the last-formed chamber
of its shell, each chamber of the Foram's shell is formed
by, and continues to be occupied by, its own little seg-
ment or mass of protoplasm, the number of chambers
increasing by a process of budding from the last-formed
segment. The wonderful variety of shapes of these
minute shells depends upon the plan by which the
budding takes place, and two very distinct kinds of
shell structure exist, while in one group of Foraminifera
the true shell is entirely replaced by a sandy envelope,
or " test," the particles of sand of which it is composed
being held together by a natural cement exuded by the
animal. The two kinds of shell are known respectively
as porcellanous and hyaline or vitreous, while the
" tests " formed of sand grains are called arenaceous.
Under the microscope, when viewed by reflected light, a
porcellanous shell bears a strong resemblance to the finest
white porcelain ; yet by transmitted light this opacity
vanishes, and is replaced by a beautiful brown or* amber
colour sometimes tinged with red, while the surface is
fretted and sculptured but never completely perforated.
The shell of a vitreous or hyaline Foram, on the other
hand, has an almost glassy transparency, and every
chamber is beset more or less closely with complete
perforations passing as small tubular openings direct
from the outer to the inner surface. Through these
pores the living Foram pushes forth fine strands of
protoplasm into the surrounding water, and by their
aid food particles are captured and absorbed ; so that
every segment of the body within the shell of a vitreous

How Animals Work.

Foram is engaged in the work of capturing food supplies,
while in the porcellanous type it is only the last-formed
segment that, issuing from the orifice of its chamber,
spreads its protoplasmic strands abroad for the capture
of food.

In the third group (Arenaceous Foraminifera), where
the true shell is entirely replaced by a sandy envelope,
or " test," when we come to consider the primitive
form of life, a mere blob of protoplasmic jelly as it
were, which selects and collects the particles of sand
and builds them up into such graceful shapes, we can-
not but be filled with admiration and wonder. Indeed,
to quote the late Dr. Dallinger, who devoted many
years to the study of microscopic forms of life, " there
is nothing more wonderful in nature than the building
up of these elaborate and symmetrical structures by
mere ' jelly-specks/ presenting no trace whatever of
the definite 'organization* which we are accustomed to
regard as necessary to the manifestations of conscious
life. Suppose a human mason to be put down by the
side of a pile of stones of various shapes and sizes, and
to be told to build a dome of these, smooth on both
surfaces, without using more than the least possible
quantity of a very tenacious but costly cement in hold-
ing the stones together. If he accomplished this well,
he would receive credit for great intelligence and skill.
Yet this is exactly what these little ' jelly-specks ' do
on a most minute scale, the ' tests ' they construct,
when highly magnified, bearing comparison with the
most skilful masonry of man. From the same sandy
bottom one species picks up the coarser quartz grains,
unites them together with a ferruginous cement secreted

Some Microscopic Builders.

from its own substance, and thus constructs a flask-
shaped ' test ' having a short neck and a single large
orifice. Another picks up the finer grains and puts
them together with the same cement into perfectly
spherical * tests ' of the most extraordinary finish,
perforated with numerous small pores disposed at
pretty regular intervals. Another selects the minutest
sand grains and the terminal portions of sponge spicules,
and works these up together — apparently with no cement
at all, but by the mere * laying ' of the spicules — into
perfect white spheres, like homoeopathic globules, each
having a single fissured orifice. And another, which
makes a straight, many-chambered * test/ the conical
mouth of each chamber projecting into the cavity of
the next, while forming the walls of its chambers of
ordinary sand grains rather loosely held together, shapes
the conical mouths of the successive chambers by firmly
cementing to each other the quartz grains which border
it. To give these actions the vague designation * in-
stinctive ' does not in the least help us to account for
them, since what we want to discover is the mechanism
by which they are worked out ; and it is most difficult
to conceive how so artificial a selection can be made
by creatures so simple."

Of these Foraminifera whose shells are perforated by
multitudes of minute tubules, the Globigerina, whose
microscopic shell consists of an assemblage of nearly
spherical chambers with coarsely perforated walls, is of
particular interest, for its ancestors were abundant in
the seas of a past geological epoch. To-day the Globi-
gerina occurs in extraordinary abundance at great depths
— from 1,260 to 3,000 fathoms — over wide areas of the

How Animals Work.

northern parts of the Atlantic Ocean, as much as 97 per
cent, of the mud, or " ooze " as it is called, brought
up from these depths being entirely composed of its
minute shells. The living Globigerinae frequent the
surface waters of the sea, and their shells are bedecked
with innumerable delicate spines which extend radially
to a length equal to four or five times the diameter of
the shell, giving them a most striking appearance ; but
on the death of the animal, the shell, in its descent to
the great depth at which it at last reaches the floor
of the ocean, loses its armature of delicate spines, so
that only the tiny cluster of spheres remains. At these
great depths, on the floor of the Atlantic to-day, new
chalk is being formed in just the -same way as it was
at the bottom of the sea in past ages — by the con-
stant accumulation of uncountable myriads of the re-
mains of these Foraminifera ; and in time to come
these consolidated remains may in all probability rise
above the surface of the sea to form dry land, in much
the same manner as the chalk cliffs and the North
and South Downs of England rose from out the sea
in the long past. Even without the true knowledge of
how they were formed, it is impossible to stand at the
base of the towering, majestic white cliffs without feeling
a thrill of admiration for their grandeur and beauty, at
the absolute perfection of Nature's handiwork; and when
we try to realize how they were gradually formed beneath
the waters of the ocean, beneath the " stillness of the
central sea," slowly, surely, perfectly through the long
ages, until in the fullness of time they rose above the
surface, monuments built from the accumulated remains
of the infinitely minute, how truly glorious and awe-

Some Microscopic Builders.

inspiring do they become ! Who can gaze upon their
towering mass unmoved, or help recalling Tennyson's
exquisite lines ? —

" There rolls the deep where grew the tree.
O earth, what changes hast thou seen !
There, where the long street roars, hath been
The stillness of the central sea."

Living in the sea throughout untold ages, the Fora-
minifera have had, and probably still take, the largest share
of any forms of animal life in building up and main-
taining the solid calcareous portion of the earth's crust,
by separating from its solution in sea water the car-
bonate of lime continually brought down by rivers from
the land. Vast deposits of Foraminifera exist, and may
be said to spread over thousands of square miles of the
earth's surface. Nummulitic limestone, which is com-
posed of disc-shaped Foraminifera called Nummulites,
held together by a matrix formed of the finely crushed
particles of their shells and of other small Foraminiferae,
is known to attain a thickness of several thousand feet.
It has a wide geographical distribution, extending
through Southern Europe, Greece, Asia Minor, Egypt,
Persia, to China and Japan. The Pyrenees, the Car-
pathians, Apennines, Alps, and Himalayas, are moun-
tain ranges into whose composition nummulitic lime-
stone largely enters, while, as already stated, the large
deposits of chalk are chiefly composed of the remains
of Foraminifera. The vast accumulation of animal
remains that this represents staggers the imagination,
for it is very difficult to realize the long ages through-
out which these remains steadily, unceasingly sank

How Animals Work.

down through the depths of those seas of a past geo-
logical epoch. When we learn that a single cubic inch
of Poorbandar limestone has been computed to contain
more than a million Foraminifera, we realize the utter
fruitlessness of attempting to give a numerical defini-
tion of these vast deposits.

Nor are the Foraminifera the only microscopic marine
organisms which extract from the surrounding sea water
the materials for the construction of exquisitely shaped
and extremely minute homes. The somewhat closely
allied Radiolaria make the most beautifully designed
shells or " tests " of silica extracted from the sea, and
their remains form an ooze at depths of from two
thousand to three thousand fathoms. Like the Fora-
minifera, their history can be traced far back in the
records of the past, their fossil shells being very plen-
tiful in the rocks of Bermuda, Barbados, in Richmond,
Virginia, and Sicily. The familiar Tripoli powder used
for polishing consists largely of their remains. Their
flinty " tests " are most varied and beautiful in shape,
while the individual animal, again, is of the simplest
character, destitute of any highly specialized limbs or
organization, yet capable of extracting minute quantities
of silica from the sea and working it up into the most
graceful designs.

PLATE II.

^S^ESta*

", #%<% I^^V'^^SW^aiAT/^^'
£ >

/•,# t-^^PP-' 'i/^ .• "* **'* '"9ft, <•

.. ..'^^r- ^^^ ^'.t^v-^y Swfa-^mt * ••*^*g*f^

'^S^^^k^S^r

FORAMINIFERA FROM THE FLOOR OF THE SEA.

A SECTION OF NUMMULITTC LIMESTONE.

Showing the fossil Forams of which it is almost entirely composed.

CHAPTER II.

ISLAND AND REEF BUILDERS.

T!)ASSING from the comparatively simple one-
A celled animals we have been considering in the
last chapter, the Corals next attract our attention as
individually small, but extremely expert, builders and
architects, producing the most graceful and varied
structures, some frail and almost lacelike in appear-
ance, others extraordinarily massive, yet covered with
exquisite tracery.

The temperature of the sea round the shores oi
Great Britain to-day is not sufficiently high to sup-
port the life of the reef-building corals, although from
the fossil remains preserved in various strata there
is abundant evidence to prove that in a past epoch
our shores were lapped by the waves of a tropical sea
beneath whose surface coral life luxuriated. The reef-
forming corals can only flourish in a warm sea, the
temperature of which never falls below 68° Fahrenheit
and may rise to 86°, and which is highly aerated, free
from sediments, and containing an abundance of minute
living organisms which constitute the food of the coral
animals, or polyps. Also the reef-builders do not appear
to be able to live at such great depths as their simple
solitary relations, probably because the temperature of

(1,910)

How Animals Work.

the sea diminishes rapidly with increasing depth, so
that the 86° to 70° Fahrenheit necessary for the luxuriant
growth of the reef-building forms is not maintained
much beyond a depth of some twenty fathoms, the
greatest depth from which living specimens of reef-
building corals have been dredged up being fifty fathoms.
Although we cannot boast of any living coral reefs
off the coasts of Great Britain to-day, still the visitor to
the seaside, and more particularly to the south coast of
Devon and Cornwall, may have an opportunity of seeing
a little living solitary coral, called the Devonshire Coral
(Caryophyllia Smithii), growing attached to rocks in deep
pools at extreme low tide. This little cup coral rarely
exceeds an inch in diameter, and when the soft parts
of the animal are fully expanded the little creature
resembles very closely a small sea-anemone. On top of
the body there are a series of semi-transparent tentacles,
paler of hue than the rest of the body, and terminating
in knoblike expansions. There is a central disc within
the circle of tentacles, in the midst of which is the little
elongated slitlike mouth. A tissue similar to the out-
side of the tentacles and disc covers the body, while
the disc is marked with lines which appear to radiate
from the mouth, and which on being touched contract
slightly, so that a hard structure is felt beneath them, made
up of a series of thin, vertically arranged plates with
their edges upwards. The general appearance of this
interesting little coral is clearly shown in the photo-
graph (a, Plate III.). Minute organisms floating in the
water are brought into contact with the top of the coral
and carried down into the mouth, and it is partly from
the calcareous parts of such prey, partly from the salts

Island and Reef Builders.

of lime held in solution by the sea water, that the hard
parts of the coral are formed.

This little Devonshire cup coral, so like a small
anemone in life, discloses, after its death and the decay
of its fleshy parts, a skeleton of singular beauty, com-
posed of carbonate of lime, and originally deposited
beneath the tissues of the living animal. This cup-
shaped coral is, to all intents and purposes, identical
with the reef-forming corals, but leads a solitary life, while
the reef-builders form colonies by budding, the buds
not becoming detached. As a result of long-continued
budding, extending layer over layer, the large solid
masses which go to form the coral reefs are gradually
built up. Of the rate of growth of these immense
masses of coral the marine biologist has yet much to
learn ; but some idea of the comparatively rapid growth
made under favourable conditions may be gathered from
the already ascertained facts, which show that one coral
animal, or polyp, one millimetre in diameter has been
known to bud out and form 693 grammes of coral in
thirty-six months. We know but little concerning the
duration of the life of these stony corals, beyond the fact
that the power of increase by budding, or asexual repro-
duction as it is called, is not unlimited, and that these
colonies, like individuals, have their allotted span of life,
attaining to a maximum rate of increase and then grow-
ing old, senile, and at last die a natural death. So far
as our present knowledge goes, the duration of life in
some of the solitary corals has been estimated at about
twenty-four years, while some of the reef-building
colonial forms are thought to live from twenty-two to
twenty-eight years.

How Animals Work.

Looking at the little Devonshire Coral growing in
its deep rock pool, a frail, gelatinous creature, it is
difficult to realize that these anemone-like animals,
individually comparatively insignificant in size, by the
accumulations of their living skeletons form the reefs
and coral islands of the tropical seas ; that masses of
rock extending many leagues, like the Great Barrier
Reef of Australia, have been built up by them beneath
the surface of the waves. To quote Montgomery's
delightful lines, —

" Millions of millions thus, from age to age,
With simplest skill and toil unweariable,
No moment and no movement unimproved,
Laid line on line — on terrace terrace spread,
To swell the heightening, brightening gradual mound,
By marvellous structure climbing toward the day.
Each wrought alone, yet all together wrought
Unconscious, not unworthy instruments,
By which a hand invisible was rearing
A new creation in the secret deep.

• •••••

I saw the living pile ascend,
The mausoleum of its architects,
Still dying upwards as their labours closed :
Slime the material, but the slime was turned
To adamant by their petrific touch :
Frail were their frames, ephemeral their lives,
Their masonry imperishable."

All corals are very similar in the anatomy of their
fleshy parts ; yet how variable in shape, size, and detail
of structure is the skeleton they form ! Some, like the
so-called ' Mushroom " corals, remain solitary indi-
viduals ; others, again, by a process of budding may

Island and Reef Builders.

grow out in the most graceful branches, fans, and
arborescent forms, or become compact, rounded masses
like the " Brain " corals, or grow into large, solid masses
of many tons weight. No matter what the final size
and shape of the colony, it had its origin in a single
individual. First a little projection appeared on the
side of the parent cup, and soon a few tentacles were
formed, until by its outward and upward growth the
little bud became like its parent in appearance. Other
buds then arose, and all grew upwards in a bushlike
form, fresh successions of buds constantly appearing.
As this growth progresses, either the bushy shape
remains, or else structures composed of layers of hard
material, arranged in cellular compartments or cross-
bars so as to give both strength and lightness, are
formed between the buds, connecting the whole into
a compact and solid mass. While these reef-building
corals are comparatively shallow-water forms, and are
restricted to the warm, sunlit waters of the Tropics,
the solitary corals have a far wider distribution, and
some have been dredged up from very great depths.
Besides the process of budding just described, corals
also have a true sexual method of propagation. The
oval-shaped young escape from the mouth of the
parent, and swimming by means of delicate threads,
or cilia, soon fix themselves to a base, and become
like the parent in appearance.

The work of the reef-building corals comes under
three headings : (i) Shore reefs, which fringe the shores
of continents and islands ; (2) barrier or encircling
reefs, which rise from deep water at a greater distance
than the fringing reefs from land, so that there is a

How Animals Work.

channel-way navigable by ships between the reef and
the mainland, the reef either encircling an island or
stretching as a natural barrier along the coast, like the
wonderful reef which fronts the north-east coast of
Australia with a length of nearly a thousand miles;
and (3) atolls, or lagoon islands, which are low reefs,
rising but a few feet above the highest tide level, and
enclosing a lagoon.

An atoll presents a most remarkable appearance to
the voyager, as seen from the deck of the approach-
ing vessel. Rising out of the deep blue sea is seen
a low, more or less circular belt of land, dotted
with feathery-crowned cocoanut palms. A white line
of breakers fringes the shore, thundering upon it and
sending up great fountains of spray, while within the
encircling reef the waters of the lagoon shine with un-
ruffled surface like a burnished mirror. One would
imagine that the hardest rock must yield to the per-
petual onslaught of the mighty waves that day and
night break with cataract force against the reef, and
that in a few years all trace of land would disappear
beneath the surface of the sea. " Yet," as Dr. Hartwig
writes, " the insignificant coral islets stand and are
victorious ; for here another power, antagonistic to the
former, takes part in the contest. The organic forces
separate the atoms of carbonate of lime one by one
from the foaming breakers, and unite them in a sym-
metrical structure. Let the hurricane tear up its thou-
sand huge fragments ; yet what will this tell against the
" accumulated labours of myriads of architects at work
night and day, month after month ? Thus do we see
the soft and gelatinous body of a polyp, through the

Island and Reef Builders.

agency of vital laws, conquering the great mechanical
power of the waves of an ocean, which neither the art
of man nor the inanimate works of Nature could suc-
cessfully resist/*

The outer side of the atoll usually sinks to a depth of
some two hundred to three hundred fathoms, shelving
abruptly at an angle of forty-five degrees or more, and it
is on this outer edge only that the solid wall increases.
Here the coral animals thrive in the midst of the surf
occasioned by the breakers — an ever-changing and highly
aerated body of water washing over their surface, bring-
ing to them an abundance of oxygen and food. During
violent storms huge masses are torn off by the force of
the waves, and driven on shore towards the lagoon ;
but scars left by the detachment of these masses serve
as places of attachment for the young of the neigh-
bouring corals, the successive generations of which, by
their rapid growth, not only repair the damage caused
by the storm, but increase the outer area of the reef.

While these reef-building corals cannot exist in a
vigorous state of growth at a greater depth than twenty
to thirty fathoms, owing to their need of light, warmth,
and highly oxygenated water, their tissues are so deli-
cate that a brief exposure to the air and the sun's rays
kills them. Thus it is only by constant immersion in
clear, warm, highly aerated sea water, absolutely devoid
of muddy sediment, that they can thrive. As the living
reef-building corals cannot flourish beyond a depth of
thirty fathoms, it seems obvious that the atolls and
barrier reefs are resting upon some substratum which
could not possibly have been formed by reef-building
corals at the same relative position it' has now. What,

How Animals Work.

then, is the substratum, and how was it formed ? If
composed of a coral rock, then it is clear that it must
have been formed at a time when it was nearer to the
surface of the sea than it is now, and that it must later
on have subsided to greater depths. If, however, this
substratum is a primitive rock, then it would appear
that in such regions as the Indian and South Pacific
Oceans, where archipelagoes and atolls extend for
hundreds of miles, there must exist submerged chains
of mountain ranges whose peaks reach to a uniform
level beneath the surface of the sea. This is highly
improbable, for, as Charles Darwin states in his Coral
Reefs, " we cannot believe that a broad mountain summit
lies buried at a depth of a few fathoms beneath every
atoll, and nevertheless that throughout the immense
areas above named not one point of rock projects above
the level of the sea. For we may judge of mountains
beneath the sea by those on land, and where can we find
a single chain, much less several such chains many hun-
dred miles in length, and of considerable breadth, with
broad summits attaining the same height from within one
hundred and twenty to one hundred and eighty feet ? "

To account for this, Darwin worked out his famous
subsidence theory, according to which the regions where
atolls now occur were once dry land, or an archipelago
of volcanic islands surrounded by fringing coral reefs.
We have the most convincing proof in almost all parts
of the world that land has disappeared beneath the
surface of the sea, only to reappear again at a later
epoch in the earth's history. Thus Darwin, as in all
his work, was building his theory upon a solid founda-
tion of ascertained fact. In the regions, therefore, where

PLATE III.

THE DEVONSHIRE CUP CORAL.

On the right is the expanded polyp, and on the left the beautiful skeleton
formed by the polyp.

TYPES OF SOLITARY "MUSHROOM" AND "Cup" CORALS.

Each the work of a. single polyp.

Island and Reef Builders.

the atolls exist to-day, the land, according to his theory,
gradually subsided and its area diminished ; but the
area enclosed by the coral reefs did not diminish in a
corresponding degree, and the young corals, growing
on the debris of the older ones as they sank, con-
tinued the growth of the reef in a direction nearly
vertical to the sea bottom. In this way the fringing
reefs gradually became barrier reefs, and were separated
from the mainland by a lagoon of considerable depth.
Finally, when the mountain peaks disappeared beneath
the waves, a ring-shaped reef or atoll was all that remained
to mark the position of the former land.

The fundamental assumption of Darwin's subsidence
theory is that the substratum of the coral reefs and
islands is coral-formed limestone. Borings recently
made on the island of Funafuti, in the Pacific Ocean,
to test the truth of this assumption, were successfully
carried out to a depth of 1,114 fee** The result abso-
lutely proved and confirmed the justice of Darwin's
assumption as to the nature of the substratum, for in
the cores from various depths down to the very lowest
obtained by the boring, the fossilized skeletons of the
common genera of recent corals, and very few or no
representatives of genera of corals now extinct, were
discovered, giving the fullest possible support to the
subsidence theory as applied to this particular island.
As I have stated elsewhere,* that Darwin's " theory of
gradual subsidence may not be applicable in a few
cases is quite possible. Other natural causes, such as
the abundant deposition of the remains of calcareous
organisms, may have been, under favourable condi-
* Cassell's Natural History.

How Animals Work.

tions, sufficient to raise the summits of submerged
mountains to a level where the reef-forming corals can
commence to flourish. But these isolated cases all
require far more careful and systematic investigation
than they have yet received, and though, under certain
favourable conditions, atolls and reefs may thus be
formed without the subsidence of land, their presence
in no way upsets Darwin's theory as applied to the
innumerable examples of the various reef formations
which stud the Indian, Atlantic, and Pacific Oceans."

No matter in what situation the skeletons of these
reef-building corals may be found — whether at a height
of 7,000 feet above the level of the sea, or at a depth
of 300 feet beneath its surface — they must have grown
and formed their beautiful and wondrous skeletons
within about twenty fathoms of the siirfade of the
sea. On the summit of the lofty mountains of Tahiti,
at 5,000 and 7,000 feet above the sea level, a regular
stratum of semi-fossilized coral has been found ; while
it has also been dredged up from 200 to 300 fathoms,
to which depth it must have been dragged down by a
gradual subsidence of the foundation upon which the
living, reef-building corals once flourished. It is a
marvellous story of earth movement, written by Nature
upon the face of the earth in characters that all may
read, and as we ponder those slow but certain upward
and downward movements of the land, Tennyson's
lines stand out in their crystal truth : —

" The hills are shadows, and they flow
From form to form, and nothing stands ;
They melt like mist ; the solid lands,
Like clouds they shape themselves and go."
26

CHAPTER III.

THE SHELL-BUILDERS.

" See what a lovely shell,
Small and fine as a pearl !

Frail, but of force to withstand,
Year upon year, the shock
Of cataract seas that snap
The three-decker's oaken spine
Athwart the ledges of rock."

TENNYSON.

I THINK that every visitor to the seaside must, at
one time or another, have been attracted by some
daintily tinted shell left stranded by a retreating wave,
all glistening and iridescent with the salt spray, and
reflecting endless rainbow tints. Captivating by its
pretty colours, the shell was probably picked up, and
for a time kept as a memento of a pleasant summer
holiday by the sea. Now I would ask you to come
with me for a ramble along the shore in search of fresh
specimens ; or let me draw your attention to a few from
my cabinet, that we may consider them in quite a
different aspect, not merely as pretty objects, part and
parcel of the flotsam and jetsam of the shore, but each
as a house beautiful — a house perfect in its design to

How Animals Work.

meet the requirements of its original owner and builder :
for every shell on the seashore and in the rock pools
has been formed, tinted, and moulded into shape by
its original inhabitant.

Considered from this point of view, I think you
will agree with me, every shell has quite a new and
increased interest. It is no longer merely a pretty
object, but a wonderful piece of constructional work,
beautiful in its colour and design. One at once feels
anxious to know more about it, and to try to find out
something of the creature that formed and dwelt in it.

" Did he stand at the diamond door
Of his house in a rainbow frill ?
Did he push, when he was uncurled,
A golden foot or a fairy horn

Thro' his dim water-world ? "
\

The creatures that form these exquisite dwellings
all belong to that great division of the animal kingdom
called the Molluscat and really they are a very remark-
able assemblage, varying to an .extraordinary degree in
shape, size, colour, and habits of life. Some are only
to be found on land, others are restricted to the ponds,
lakes, and rivers, while a very large proportion are
dwellers in old Neptune's kingdom. Nor do they all
form a portable house or shelter, for in some species
the shell may be hidden from view, may be of a very
rudimentary character, or entirely absent. Some, again,
not only construct a portable dwelling, but are expert
masons, boring into the rocks, and making regular bur-
rows wherein to dwell ; or, as in the case of the Lima,
shortly to be described, construct a receptacle composed
of fragments of gravel and coral.

The Shell-builders.

What of the material out of which the animal con-
structs its shell, and the apparatus used in the work ?
Carbonate of lime is the essential building material, and
is obtained from the seaweeds and other vegetable matter
which the animal eats ; while, should it be a carnivorous
Mollusc, by devouring others that are plant eaters it
obtains its supply in a second-hand manner. In the
work of constructing the shell the animal has no elaborate
apparatus at its command, the work being performed by
the external membranous layer that invests the body —
the mantle, as it is called, albeit a delicate and remark-
able organ. The thickened margin of the mantle is
glandular, and contains in its substance patches of
various colours. It is this thickened margin which
produces the material for the increase in size of the
shell, while the colour patches correspond both in their
tint and relative position with the colours that decorate
the exterior of the shell. When the little shell-builder
is engaged in increasing the dimensions of its portable
dwelling, the margin of its mantle is protruded, and
firmly adheres to the margin of the shell. In this posi-
tion the mantle secretes the calcareous matter, deposit-
ing it in a soft condition upon the extreme edge of the
shell, where this secretion soon hardens into a solid
shelly layer. This process is repeated again and again
at regular intervals, each succeeding layer further enlar-
ging the diameter of the shell.

The quantity of this calcareous material secreted by
the edge of the mantle appears to be much more copious
at certain periods than at others, and it is at such times
of abundant supply of material tl>at ridges, broad plates,
or spines of different length are formed by the mantle

How Animals Work.

extending beyond its usual position at the circumfer-
ence fof the shell. In this way the external surface of
the shell is exclusively formed of layers deposited in
succession by the margin of the mantle. The coloured
spots in the tissue of the mantle are pigment glands,
capable of manufacturing the necessary colours for the
external ornamentation of the shell, and the pigment
furnished by these glands becomes mixed up with the
calcareous matter at the time of its deposition. Accord-
ing to the amount of pigment produced, and whether a
continuous supply is kept up during the whole period
that fresh material is being deposited in the process of
enlargement of the shell, or the supply of pigment is
only forthcoming at intervals, so the shape and size of
the bands and patches of colour on the surface of the
shell will vary.

The margin of the mantle, therefore, is the sole
mechanism for enlarging the circumference of the shell
and its coloration ; but the growth in thickness of the
shell is attained by the secretion of a kind of calcareous
varnish produced by the external surface of the mantle
generally. This secretion is deposited layer by layer
over the whole of the previously existing shell, and in
this way the weight and solidity of the shell are pro-
gressively built up. Moreover, this thickening material
differs from that produced by the margin of the mantle,
inasmuch as it is not pigmented, but is of a beautiful,
lustrous white hue, and forms the well-known iridescent
material called nacre, or mother-of-pearl.

The edge of the mantle is very often fringed with
small, delicate, and sensitive tentacles, and in some of
the Clams and Scallops (Pecteri) numerous brightly

The Shell-builders.

coloured eyes may be seen amongst them, presenting
a most beautiful appearance. If a healthy Scallop is
placed in a glass jar filled with fresh sea water, its move-
ments can be watched, and a good view of its lovely
mantle obtained. The shells will soon begin to open,
and then the fleshy mantle can be seen to occupy the
interval, like a narrow veil extending perpendicularly
from each shell. " The edge of each of these veils will
now be seen, if you examine it with a pocket lens, to
be fringed with long white threads, which are the ten-
tacles, or organs of touch ; and amongst them lie scattered
a number of minute points, having the most brilliant
lustre, and bearing a close resemblance to tiny gems.
Indeed, the mantle has been aptly compared to one of
those pincushions which are frequently made between
pairs of these very shells, the eyes representing a double
row of diamond-headed pins set round the middle." *

Next to the mantle, the foot is the most remarkable
and useful organ possessed by the Mollusc, and is em-
ployed in various ways — for digging holes in the soft
sand, to drill a hole in the hard rock, or as a sort of
sand-plough, shovelling the sand away on either side
to form a trench, along which the Mollusc moves. In
many instances the foot is so large that when it is pushed
out it is considerably bigger than the shell from which
it has been protruded. The whole body of the animal
often swells out to such an extent, as it issues from the
shell, that it reminds one of the old story of the Eastern
Genii who came out of a bottle. When fully distended
it looks as if it were impossible for the creature ever to
pack itself away again inside its house. Yet, if alarmed,

* P. H. Gosse.
31

How Animals Work.

it seems to shrivel up, and with extraordinary rapidity
disappears within its protecting shell.

The shell-builders may be broadly divided under
two headings: namely, those which construct a single
shell— univalves, as they are called; and those which
construct double or twin shells— called bivalves. While
the bivalve Mollusc can close its twin shells, and thus
be cut off from intercourse with the outer world, the
univalve has a single permanent opening to its shell,
through which the head and foot can be pushed forth
when the Mollusc wishes to go for a stroll. Most
univalves, however, have a kind of door that fits quite
tightly into the opening in the shell when the animal
retires within, and this is called the " operculum." It
is a thin, shelly, or horny plate, usually carried fixed to
the upper surface of the foot of the Mollusc, so that
the animal may be said to open or close the front door
of its house by the single expedient of pushing forth
or drawing back its foot. The operculums of many
Molluscs are very pretty things, delicately coloured,
and marked with lines running round and round in
the form of a spiral.

It is among the univalves that many of the most
beautifully shaped and coloured forms are to be found,
while the inhabitants of univalve shells are nearly always
curious or interesting in one way or another. The
" Screw-shells " to be found on rocky coasts are made
up of a number of rings or coils, and perhaps represent
the most perfect development of a spire-shaped shell.
The largest coil or " whorl " forms the base of the
shell, and each succeeding whorl is smaller until the
apex of the spire is reached. This spiral form is very

The Shell-builders.

typical of univalve shells, though sometimes the whorls
are not so plainly discernible.

The Ladder-shells, or Wentletraps, are beautiful ex-
amples of spire-shaped shells, thick and smooth, and made
up of many distinct whorls, each whorl being crossed with
several raised ribs running from the top to the bottom
of the shell. The little builder of such a graceful house
lives in deep water, where the sea floor is rather a mix-
ture of sand and mud, and when disturbed is said to
squirt out a jet of purple fluid. One of these Wentle-
traps, living in Tropic seas, is a beautiful pale yellow,
with ribs of pure white, and for many years commanded
a high price amongst collectors. In 1753 four sold for
£75, i2s., while one, which was sold a little later, was
valued at £27. Nowadays specimens are more numer-
ous, and can be purchased for a few shillings.

In the " Pelican's Foot " shell we find the little
Mollusc that forms it departing from the perfect spiral
shape ; for although the upper part consists of a series
of diminishing whorls, the lip of the shell is very large,
flattened on one side, and spreads out like the webbed
foot of an aquatic bird — from which the shell has gained
its popular name. In colour this strangely shaped shell
is a pale creamy yellow, sometimes nearly white, daintily
clouded with tender purplish tints, with here and there
a splash of chestnut-brown ; while the whorls are
sculptured with bosses and indentations.

The Trochus, the Mollusc which forms the so-
called " Top-shell," is a dainty little creature with a
well-shaped head bearing a pair of slender horns or
tentacles, and a pair of eyes mounted on foot-stalks.
On each side of the head is a large lappet, part of the
(i,9io) 23 C

How Animals Work.

outer edges of the mantle, which broadens out like a
wing, and is bordered with a delicate fringe of the
finest hair, or cilia. As the little Trochus moves slowly
along through the water, the rippling, wave-like move-
ments of the fringe of cilia cause a wonderful play of
iridescent colours round the head of the Mollusc, mak-
ing it look as if dressed in " a rainbow frill." In fact,
one cannot help feeling that it is the original of Tenny-
son's lines. The shell has a nearly flat broad base,
and tapers abruptly, so that the general shape is some-
thing like a squat peg-top ; but both shape and colour
vary a good deal in different species, some being much
taller than others and quite smooth, covered with little
knobs, or with a tracery of ridged lines running round
and round from the base of the shell to the apex.

A living Ormer, or Ear-shell, does not present at all
an interesting or striking appearance, and one would
never imagine that beneath that rough, grayish-brown
exterior lay hidden the most gorgeous tints, vivid as a
tropical sunset, softly opalescent— the whole gamut of
an artist's palette. When, however, the shell is empty
and its tenant dead, it is seen to be lined with
the most beautiful mother-of-pearl, while the removal
of the outer rough layer and subsequent polishing of
the upper surface will reveal fresh wonders of colora-
tion.

The Cowries of the Tropic seas offer a contrast in
shell structure, for, instead of the dull, rough exterior
of the Ormer, their surfaces are always more or less
brightly coloured and highly polished, the wonderful
smooth glistening surface being produced by the mantle,
which folds back over the outer surface of the shell

The Shell-builders.

when the animal is alive. The little Cowrie which is
found on our English shores, the Cyprcea Europcea,
though small of size and minus the vivid colours of
its tropical relations, is nevertheless a dainty, interest-
ing little shell. It is marked all over with fine trans-
verse ridges and alternate furrows, the ridges being of
pure white, the furrows purplish or flesh colour, while
larger specimens often display three dark-brown spots.

To quote from Gosse's delightful description : —
" Probably few are aware how very elegant a creature
it is when tenanted by its living inhabitant and crawl-
ing at ease in clear water. The foot, on which it glides
with a slow but smooth motion over the surface of the
rock on which it habitually dwells, is a broad expan-
sion spreading out to twice the superficies of the base
of the shell. Above this is the fleshy mantle, which is
so turned up as to closely invest the shell, conforming
to its shape, and even fitting into the grooves between
the ridges. This mantle can be protruded, at the will
of the animal, so far that the two sides meet along the
top of the shell and completely cover it, or can be
completely retracted within the wrinkled lips beneath ;
and it is capable of all gradations of extension between
these limits. From the front of the shell protrudes the
head, armed with two straight and lengthened tentacles,
answering in function and appearance to the upper part
of the horns of the snail, except that the little black
points which constitute the visual organs are not in
this case placed at the tips, but on a little prominence
on the outside of the base of each tentacle. Above and
between these, which diverge at a considerable angle,
projects the proboscis, a rather thick, fleshy tube, formed

How Animals Work.

by a flat lamina, with its edges bent round so as to
meet along the under side. The interior of this pro-
boscis is lined with delicate cilia, by whose constant
vibrations a current of water is drawn into the tube,
and poured over the surface of the gills for the purpose
of respiration. Let us now look at the vivid hues of
these organs. The foot, which expands to so great a
length and breadth behind the shell, is of a buff or
pale orange grounS colour, delicately striated with lon-
gitudinal undulating veins of yellowish white. The
mantle, which embraces the shell, is of a pellucid olive,
thickly mottled and spotted with black, and studded
with glands protruding through its substance of light
yellow, and it is edged with a narrow border of red.
The proboscis is vermilion-red, varying in brilliancy in
different individuals. The tenticula are of a paler tint,
of the same colour, speckled with yellow. Such, then,
is the beauty of the animal which inhabits this familiar
and plain little shell — a beauty of which those who
know it only in cabinets can hardly form an idea ; which,
as one gazes on it placidly gliding along, one cannot
help an emotion of surprise that such an amplitude of
organs can be folded within the narrow compass of the
shell, and protruded through so contracted an aperture."

The univalves which build the largest and most
massive shells are the Helmet (Cassis) and the Conch
(Strombus) shells, which frequently attain a length of
ten or twelve inches or more, and a weight of over
four pounds. Large numbers of them are imported
into Europe annually, and are used in the production
of cameos, an art in which the Italians excel.

Now let ug consider a few of those Molluscs that

The Shell-builders.

form a double shell in which to dwell. Amongst them
not only are there many which produce most exquisitely
coloured and gracefully shaped shells, but some which
go further than the secretion of a shelly protection, and
which are weavers, masons, and miners.

Largest of all the bivalve Molluscs is the Giant
Clam, which inhabits the Indian Ocean. The great
shell often weighs upwards of 500 Ibs., while the animal
which lives within and formed these immense valves
attains a weight of 20 Ibs. They are frequently to be
seen in the quiet lagoons of coral islands, or atolls,
with their great valves partly opened; and Darwin,
describing his visit to Keeling Atoll, says : " We stayed
a long time in the lagoon, examining the fields of coral
and the gigantic Clam shells, into which if a man were
to put his hand he would not as long as the animal
lived be able to withdraw it." The exterior of the
Clam shell is deeply grooved and moulded, presenting
a very handsome appearance.

Another interesting bivalve inhabitant of the coral
reefs is the Spondylus or Thorny Oyster, which, al-
though never reaching the gigantic proportions of the
Clam, is a fairly large and handsome Mollusc. The
exterior of both upper and lower valves is covered
with spines, which on the centre and towards the apex
are more or less sharply pointed and slightly curved
like thorns, while as they approach the outer edges of
the valves they increase in length and broaden out in
foliaceous expansions. An interesting peculiarity of
the Spondylus is that with advancing age the shell does
not increase in size, but becomes thicker in its interior
by trre addition of inner layers of shell, which are dis-

How Animals Work.

tinct from the outer and from each other. This re-
duction of the inner space appears to be effected in
order to counteract the continued increment of the
shell, by the deposits of new material along its margin
from the border of the mantle, at a greater rate than
is required for the accommodation of the soft parts of
the animal.

The Lima — sometimes called the Sea-butterfly — has
a shape somewhat resembling that of a mussel, but is
of a beautiful white colour. Here we have an interest-
ing example of a nest-building habit, the adult animal
spinning together grains of sand, coral fragments, and
shells, which are bound together by a mass of threads
formed from a natural secretion. Writing of this
curious habit, Mr, D. Landsborough states : — " The
nest is curiously constructed, and remarkably well fitted
to be a safe residence for this beautiful animal. The
fragile shell does not nearly cover the Mollusc, the most
delicate part of it, a beautiful orange fringe-work, being
altogether outside the shell. Had it no extra pro-
tection, the half-exposed animal would be a tempting
mouthful — quite a bonne bouche to some prowling had-
dock or whiting. It is not content with hiding itself
among the loose coral, for the first rude wave might
lay it naked and bare. It becomes a marine mason,
and builds a house or nest. It chooses to dwell in a
coral grotto ; but in constructing this grotto it shows
that it is not only a mason, but a rope spinner, and a
tapestry weaver, and a plasterer. Were it merely a
mason, it would be no easy matter 'to cause the poly-
morphus coral to cohere. Cordage, then, is necessary
to bind together the angular fragments of the coral

The Shell-builders.

and this cordage it spins ; but it spins it as one of the
secrets of the deep. Somehow or other, though it has
no hand, it contrives to intertwine this yarn which it
has formed among the numerous bits of coral, so as
firmly to bind a handful of it together. Externally,
this habitation is rough, and therefore better fitted to
elude or to ward off enemies. But though rough
externally, within all is smooth and lubricous ; for the
fine yarn is woven into a lining of tapestry, and the
interstices are filled up with a fine slime, so that it is
smooth as plaster work. When the Lima is taken
out of its nest and put into a jar of sea water, it is one
of the most beautiful marine animals you can look upon.
The shell is beautiful ; the body of the animal within
the shell is beautiful ; and the orange fringe-work
outside the shell is highly ornamental. Its mode of
swimming is the same as that of the scallop. It opens
its valves, and, suddenly shutting them, expels the
water,, so that it is impelled onwards and upwards ;
and when the impulse thus given is spent, it repeats
the operation, and thus moves on by a succession of
jumps. When moving through the water in this way,
the reddish fringe-work is like the tail of a fiery comet."
Many of the bivalves are miners, digging down
deeply into the sand, beneath which they can live safely
and undisturbed by hungry foes. Of these burrowers
the Cockle is a familiar example, living in sandy bays
or sand banks where digging operations can be swiftly
and easily performed. It is its long, strong foot which
the Cockle employs as a spade. Thrusting the pointed
tip into the yielding sand, the Cockle pushes its foot
down as far as it will go ; then, bending the end into

How Animals Work.

a 'hook and so fixing it firmly in the ground, it drags
itself, shell and all, beneath the surface. Not only as
a spade to dig an underground domicile, however,
does the Cockle use its powerful foot, for when on the
surface of the sand the little Mollusc can progress
towards the incoming tide by a series of leaps and
bounds, by pressing its foot firmly against the ground,
bending it, and then letting it go so that it acts as a
spring.

One of the most interesting of the mining Molluscs
is the Solen, or Razor-shell, which excavates a vertical
tunnel in the sand in which to live, quite low down
on the shore, so that the entrance to its burrow is only
exposed at low spring tides. Again, as in the cockle,
it is the powerful foot which the Solen employs in dig-
ging its vertical retreat, and the process is a very in-
teresting one to watch. Suppose the Solen to be
resting on the surface of the wet sand, the animal will
cautiously push out its foot from the safe shelter of
the long razor-case-like valves of its shell, and feel about
for a soft spot ; then the pointed tip of the foot is
thrust into the sand, the prone shell is pulled into an
upright position, and gradually, by a series of jerks,
disappears from view, an oval keyhole-shaped opening
on the surface of the sand marking the entrance to
the vertical burrow. The way in which the Solen
uses its foot to drag itself down the shaft is really very
remarkable. When first pushed into the sand the
foot is flat and sharply pointed at its tip, so that it slips
easily into the soft moist sand. Then, when it has
been forced down as far as it will reach, the animal
curves up its toe to form a sort of hook with which it

PLATE V.

A GROUP OF SHELLS.

On the back of one a colony of marine -worms have built their tubes.

A GROUP OF MARINE TUBE-BUILDING WORMS.

The Shell-builders.

grips the sand firmly while the long shell is hauled
into the entrance of the burrow. Pointing its toe once
more, the Solen elongates it and dives it still further
down, the end of the foot suddenly swelling out until
it becomes firmly wedged in the shaft, while the upper
part contracts, dragging the shell downwards with a
jerk. In this way, by alternately contracting and
plunging its toe downwards and then expanding it,
the Solen excavates the long, narrow shaft, at the bottom
of which it spends most of its life.

A number of bivalve Molluscs are expert masons,
excavating chambers in the rock in which to dwell.
One that is to be found on almost any rocky shore is
the Pholas, or " Piddock " as it is popularly called on
many coasts. It is a small animal, with a pair of
milk-white shells which are very thin and brittle, and
do not completely cover the Mollusc. As soon as
its shell is formed, the young Pholas proceeds to ex-
cavate for itself a rocky cave, large enough to make
a comfortable dwelling-place, but too small for its
enemies to enter. There it spends the rest of its life,
a willing hermit in a rock grotto, the interior of which
it gradually enlarges to meet the requirements of its
own increase in size. For many years the way in which
the Pholas excavated its home in the rocks was a sore
puzzle, and many were the theories, more or less dog-
matically expounded, as to how it was accomplished,
such as the possession of an acid corroding fluid that
gradually dissolved the rock away ; or that the Pholas
scraped away at the rock with the edges of the valves
of its shell, turning round and round the while like
a living drill. Although the valves are beset with

How Animals Work.

inequalities producing a rasp-like structure, it is chiefly
by means of its foot, the base of which is furnished
with a layer of renewable sharp flinty crystals, that the
Pholas excavates its cave, but the exact manner in
which it is accomplished is still imperfectly under-
stood.

Saxicava is another bivalve mason, excavating tun-
nels often six inches in length, so that limestone rocks
on the coast are sometimes riddled with the borings of
this small, thin-shelled bivalve. It by no means con-
fines its attention to the rocks and reefs unfortunately,
but will also make its home in the base of stonework
piers and breakwaters, boring into the concrete cement
and stone used for building such structures.

The Date-shell (Lithodomus), related to the edible
mussel, makes excavations in corals and hard lime-
stone rocks. At Puteoli, on the shores of the Mediter-
ranean Sea, stand the ruins of the temple of Serapis.
Three erect white marble columns are still standing,
and these are perforated at a height of nearly twenty
feet above the present sea-level with the excavations of
the Date-shell. Similar borings at the same height
are to be seen in the face of the cliffs near by, and
afford most striking evidence of the changes which
have taken place in the level of the land within his-
torical times. The temple, originally built on dry
land, must with the cliffs have been submerged to a
depth of over thirteen feet beneath the surface of the
sea for an appreciable period of time, during which the
Date-shells made their excavations, and then gradu-
ally the land was once more raised to its present level.

CHAPTER IV.

SOME CURIOUS TUBE-BUILDERS.

MANY of the worms that are dwellers in the sea
are most expert builders, constructing remark-
able tubular dwellings out of particles of sand, frag-
ments of shell, and even fine mud, in which to live.
These marine worms are all much handsomer arid
more complex animals than their humbler land rela-
tions the earth worms, and possess special organs for
collecting the materials out of which they construct
their tubes.

A familiar object, often to be found at the bottom
of a rock pool on the seashore, is an old whelk shell,
upon the back of which may be seen a number of long
shelly tubes, more or less bent into curves, and firmly
attached by their sides to the whelk shell. Small and
closed at one end, they increase in diameter towards
the mouth or open end, and are considerably longer
than the worms which formed and inhabit them, and
are marked at irregular intervals with encircling ridges,
each ridge representing a period of growth. The
worm which forms this tube is called the Serpula, and
is a most interesting and handsome little creature.
The tube is built for the protection of the soft body
from hungry foes, as well as for a dwelling-place, and

How Animals Work.

therefore, if we watch a tube in a rock pool, we shall
see that it is only the head and a tuft of special organs
that are thrust out at the opening of the tube from
time to time. The gill-tufts, which form the breathing
apparatus of the Serpula, are all close to the head ; while
one of the gill filaments has become modified into a
long, conical-shaped, brightly tinted operculum, or
trap door, for closing the entrance to the tube against
unwelcome visitors. The effect produced, as the Ser-
pula cautiously pushes its head out of its tube, is rather
like that of a very gorgeous sweep's broom appearing
out of the top of a chimney. Directly the gills are
pushed up outside the tube, they spread out in the
shape of broad plume-like fans on either side of the
gaily tinted operculum. These plume-like organs
are composed of delicate bright red, slender filaments
placed side by side on the supporting stem, like the teeth
on a comb. The filaments are clothed with countless
waving hairs, or cilia, which are so arranged as to pro-
duce by their movements an upward current along one
side of each filament and a downward current on the
other side. This wonderful mechanism ensures not
only a constant supply of fresh sea water passing over
the gills so that the blood of the Serpula is kept aerated
and purified, but these same inward-flowing currents
pass down the funnel formed by the base of the fans
and operculum, carrying directly to the mouth of the
Serpula the minute animals and particles of animal
and plant matter upon which it feeds, and from which
the supply of living material for the secretion of the
shelly tube is partly obtained.

A group of these worms, with their fans fully ex-

Some Curious Tube-builders.

panded and gently swaying in the clear water, presents
a most charming appearance. A shadow passing over,
or a ripple on the surface of the pool, and in a flash
every head has disappeared within its tube and no sign
of life or animation remains. To enable it to make so
startlingly abrupt a descent into the safe recesses of
its tubular home, the Serpula is provided with a very
remarkable piece of apparatus consisting of four rows
of tiny hook-like appendages on various rings of the
body, shaped something like hedgers' little bill-hooks
with their edges cut into long teeth. These little
hooks are exceedingly minute, a magnifying power
of three hundred diameters being necessary to show
all the structure clearly under the microscope. The
late Mr. P. H. Gosse calculated that the Serpula has
about nineteen hundred of these hooks, each hook being
cut into seven teeth, so that something like thirteen
thousand to fourteen thousand tiny teeth catch on to
the lining of the tube to drag the worm down when
it suddenly disappears from view ; altogether, a most
wonderful contrivance for safe and rapid retreat.

The Fan Sabella is an interesting little mason worm
of the seashore, delighting in situations where there
is a mixture of sand and mud ; and on such a stretch
of shore at extreme low tide one may often find a forest
of little tubes sticking up two or three inches above
the surface, composed of grains of sand and mud
cemented together. Beneath the surface these tubes
extend to a depth of eight or ten inches, the total
length of the tube averaging about twelve inches.

Of the manner in which the Fan Sabella constructs
its tube, that fine old naturalist Sir John Dalyell has

How Animals Work.

left the following account : — " Let a tall and ample
crystal jar containing a Sabella be emptied of its con-
tents and speedily replenished with sea water : the
animal, if in view, has retreated during the short in-
terval ; the orifice of the tube is closed ; all is at rest.
But soon after replenishment it rises, to display its
branchial plume still more vigorously than before,
and remains stationary, as if enjoying the freshness of
the renovated element, always so grateful — the har-
binger of health and strength to those whose dwelling
'is there. The passing spectator would conclude that
he now beholds only a beautiful flower, completely
expanded, inclining towards the light like some of
those ornaments of nature decorating our gardens.
He pauses in admiration. But if a drop of liquid mud
falls amidst the element from above, disturbing its
purity, then, while the plume unfolds to its utmost
capacity, does the animal commence a slow revolution,
the body also passing around within the tube. Now are
the thousands of cilia fringing the ribs of the branchiae
(plumes) discovered to be in vigorous activity, and
their office to be wondrgus. A loose muddy mags
is seen afterwards visibly accumulating in the bottom
of the funnel ; meantime the neck, or first segment of
the body, rising unusually high above the orifice of
the tube, exhibits two trowels beating down the thin
edge as they fold and clasp over the margin, like our
fingers pressing a flattened cake against the palm of
the hand.* During these operations muddy collec-
tions are seen descending between the roots of the fans

' The trowels are the lappets of the collar encircling the base
of the plumes.

Some Curious Tube-builders.

towards the trowels, while another organ, perhaps the
mouth, is also occupied, it may be, in compounding
the preparation with adhesive matter. Still does the
partial or complete revolution of the plume above, and
of the body within the tube, continue ; the bulk of
the muddy mass diminishes, activity abates ; it is suc-
ceeded by repose, when the tube is found to have
received evident prolongation."

Though not such a handsome worm as the Fan
Sabella, the little " Sand-mason " worm builds a far
more elaborate tube, using grains of sand, small pebbles,
and fragments of shell in its construction. The Sand-
mason worm has upon its head a large number of
long thread-like feelers arranged about its mouth, each
feeler having a groove running down its whole length,
while the gills are short, branched, and restricted
to two or three pairs in number. The very slender
feelers, or tentacles, can be extended for a surprisingly
long distance, and are used by the Sand-mason in
collecting the materials for constructing its tube. When
one of these tentacles in sweeping about grasps a frag-
ment of shell or a grain of sand, the object may be seen
to travel along the groove, running down the entire
length of the tentacle, until it reaches the mouth of the
worm. The little Sand-mason takes in turn each
fragment so obtained into its mouth, and then the
grain of sand or fragment of shell, as the case may be,
is apparently moistened with some sort of adhesive
secretion, and is then ejected and placed in position
on the edge of the tube, being arranged in its place
by the lips of the worm. With tireless energy, grain
by grain is collected by the little Sand-mason and

How Animals Work.

placed in position in the process of building its tubu-
lar home, decorating its outer surface with gleaming
pearly fragments of shell, and crowning the whole
with a wonderful network of branches which help to
support the long and slender tentacles when they are
extended;

The completed home of the Sand-mason is really
a very remarkable structure, and to watch the little
artisan at work upon its erection is a most interest-
ing occupation, a$d one which almost any visitor to
the seaside may, with a little care and trouble, wit-
ness for himself. The Sand-mason worm may be
found at extreme low tide on sandy shores where there
is an admixture of fragments of shell ; the tubes,
crowned by these spreading branches, sticking up out
of the sand like a miniature forest, should the situation
be favourable. Now it is quite possible, with the exer-
cise of a little care and patience, to dig up one or two
tubes with their tenants inside, and to take them home
in a large jar of clear sea water. If one of the tubes
is carefully opened, the worm may be gently taken out
and placed in another glass jar filled with sea water.
The Sand-mason will at first go through the most aston-
ishingly rapid contortions, at last sinking to the bottom
of the jar exhausted. Now is the time to scatter a
small quantity of sand and shell fragments on to
the bottom of the jar, when the Sand-mason will at
once begin to extend its tentacles in all directions, and
begin upon the business of constructing a new house.

A most extraordinary tube-builder is the Varied-
footed Worm (Chtetopterus variopedatus), which may
sometimes be found at lowest tide mark on the shore,

Some Curious Tube-builders.

where there is a mixture of sand and oozy mud. The
worm measures about six to eight inches in length,
and is of a creamy white colour, except in the region
of the stomach, which is generally a darkish green
colour. The marine worms are most remarkable in
their appearance, many of them to the uninitiated look-
ing singularly unwormlike ; but even in this strange
assembly the Varied-footed Worm stands out con-
spicuously as one of the most grotesque in shape.
Indeed, it looks like a sort of nightmare animal, a crea-
ture whose front part has a freakish resemblance to
the head of a cow, while the rest of the body might do
duty for that of a pantomime caterpillar. This weird-
looking creature is quite an expert builder in its way,
and constructs a tube of parchment-like texture, coated
externally with sand and small pebbles, which is of
ample proportions and generally about two feet in
length. This tube is buried in the oozy mud and sand
in the shape of a .capital letter U> both ends projecting
above the surface of the sand for about a couple of inches.
Sometimes one end of the tube is divided into two or
three branches, which appear to have been added later,
probably to serve as auxiliary openings, the original
opening having become blocked up. This strange worm
becomes beautifully phosphorescent at night, so that the
entrance to its tube is strangely luminous, as if soft
bluish fires lurked within.

A little marine worm, which is sometimes called
the " Golden-head " by the fisher folk (its scientific name
is Pectinaria auricoma), and which may be found on
sandy shores at extreme low tide, builds a remarkably
neat house. This little Mason worm constructs a very

(1,810) D

How Animals Work.

delicate tube, as thin as paper, composed entirely of
grains of sand which have been most carefully selected,
and cemented together by a natural and copious secre-
tion. The walls of the slightly conical and curved tube
do not exceed a single grain of sand in thickness, they
are beautifully smooth without, and are lined within
with a thin silky film of secretion. Building opera-
tions are generally carried on at night, for Golden-head
is a shy little fellow; but when engaged in lengthen-
ing or repairing his tube, he spreads his tentacles
abroad, gathering and selecting sand grains of a given
size, rejecting all others that may come to hand, moisten-
ing each grain with, cement ere placing it in position.
The finished tube is open at both ends, and the little
worm carries it along when moving over the floor of
the sea.

But now I would ask you to quit the seashore for
a while, leaving its wealth of marvellous forms of animal
life, that we may journey inland and visit some quiet,
reed-bordered fish pond, whose surface, diapered with
the leaves of many a water plant, reflects the image of
the overhanging willows and the soft white clouds
that sail like silver argosies across the summer sky.
Beneath the surface of that quiet pool, could we de-
scend (and at the same time diminish in size until
we dwindled to the microscopic proportions of its
smaller inhabitants but still retained our powers of
vision and understanding), what a strange world we
should enter— a world peopled by " creatures that swim
with their hair, that have ruby eyes blazing deep in
their necks, with telescopic limbs that now are with-
drawn wholly within their bodies and now stretched

Some Curious Tube-builders.

out to many times their own length. Here are some
riding at anchor, moored by delicate threads spun
from their toes ; and there are others flashing by in a
glass armour, bristling with sharp spikes or ornamented
with bosses and flowing curves ; while, fastened to a
green stem, is an animal convolvulus that by some
invisible power draws a never-ceasing stream of victims
into its gaping cup, and tears them to death with
hooked jaws deep down within its body." While it is
impossible to take this idealistic plunge beneath the
surface, it is quite possible, with the help of collecting
bottle and microscope, to bring the strange denizens of
this pond within the range of our vision, and that is
what we will now proceed to do.

Attached to the submerged stems and leaves of
water plants may often be found a microscopic builder
of singular beauty and interest. To the unaided eye,
the little tower within which this creature dwells looks
like a tiny stump about one-sixteenth to one-thirty-
second of an inch in length fixed at one end to the sur-
face of the leaf or plant stem. On placing a leaf to
which one of these tubes is attached in a watch glass
or shallow cell filled with water, and examining it under
the microscope, we shall find that the little stump,
now greatly magnified, is really quite a beautiful ob-
ject, and composed of numerous round pellets placed
in regular rows one on top of the other, like rows of
circular bricks. This is the home of the Melicerta,
the Brick-maker Rotifer. As we look at the rows of
neatly arranged bricks or pellets, the head of the Rotifer
begins cautiously to appear above the edge of its tower,
and then it suddenly thrusts forth and expands before

How Animals Work.

our enchanted gaze like a beautiful silvery pansy blos-
som. But how infinitely more wonderful than the
petals of that charming flower of our gardens are the

petal-like lobes of Melicerta
the Brick-maker, for they are
fringed with stout pointed
hairs, or cilia, which, by their
constant rhythmical motion
in one direction, make each
petal-lobe appear to rotate
like miniature toothed cog-
wheels ; and it is from this
wheel-like appearance of the
lobes that Melicerta and its
numerous interesting rela-
tions have received their
class name of Rotifera (from
the Latin rota, a wheel, and
fero, I bear), or Wheel-
bearers.

As Melicerta protrudes
itself from the top of its
little tower, it appears a
somewhat complicated mass
of transparent flesh, involved
in many folds, with at one
side a pair of hooked spines,
and at the other two slender,
short, blunt processes which

Bnck-making Rotifer. ^^ horizontally< ^ ^

little Rotifer continues to push upwards from its tube,
suddenly two large upstanding and two smaller down-

Some Curious Tube-builders.

ward-directed petal-like discs are expanded, and a wreath
of cilia in active motion is seen to fringe them. Below
the large petal lobes there is a projecting angular chin,
which is also clothed with cilia ; and immediately below
this is the little organ with which Melicerta forms the
bricks or pellets to build its house. This apparatus
appears to form a small hemispherical cup, and is capable
of being projected forward on its short stalk. Now the
little Brick-maker forms the pellets for its house out of
the excess of food particles which float in the surround-
ing water, and which are brought within its reach by
the currents set up by the vibrating wreaths of cilia.
These particles can be seen whirling round the petal-
like lobes caught in the current of the waving cilia,
and are carried down to minute channels on either
side of the projecting chin through which they pass
into the cilia-clad glandular cup, which is really mix-
ing-chamber and mould in one. Here the particles,
as they revolve, are cemented together into a pellet
or brick ; and when the operation is completed, Meli-
certa bends its head forward, and the moulded brick
passes from the cup in which it was formed on to
the rim of the tower. In this fashion, brick after
brick is " well and truly laid " in position, and so
the little tower increases in height. It is quite pos-
sible to keep Melicerta in a healthy, active condition
for some time in a small trough, and by supplying
the little Rotifer with plant-food particles (which must
be very finely ground and only a very small quantity
given) of different colours, or with particles of car-
mine, to induce it to build a tube of various bands
of colour.

How Animals Work.

In collecting the water weeds to which Melicerta at-
taches its tube, we are very likely to gather some of
those strange aquatic insects called Caddis-worms, which
delight to clothe their soft and otherwise unprotected
bodies in garments composed of all sorts of odds and
ends of plant and animal remains (6, Plate VI.). They
vary a great deal in their choice of materials and per-
fection of workmanship, some appearing to be singu-
larly slovenly and untidy, weaving together a perfect
jumble of bits of dead leaves and twigs of all shapes
and sizes into a rough more or less tubular garment.
There is method in their madness, however, for prob-
ably their untidy clothes, when the insect suddenly
withdraws within them and remains quiescent, look
far more like part of the natural debris of the bottom
of the pond than do the more tidy and symmetrical
productions of some of their relations. A very large
proportion of the Caddis larvae collect pieces of leaves
or the small stems of water plants, which they fasten
together with a natural silky secretion, sometimes lining
the whole tube or case with silk ; but there are several
who form their tubes out of grains of sand, particles
of earth, and small stones, and one is particularly fond
of collecting the tiniest of water-snail shells, which it^
attaches on to its case with a blissful disregard as to
whether the shell is still tenanted or not, so that a poor
baby water snail may often be seen, upside down, an
unwilling captive on top of the tubular case of this
Caddis larva. It appears at first perhaps a strange
habit, this collecting together of materials so diverse,
and their formation into a tubular portable dwelling
or garment. But we must remember that although

Some Curious Tube-builders.

the Caddis larva has a fairly hard head and legs, its
body is soft, plump, and altogether a toothsome sort
of morsel for many a hungry denizen of the pond ;
and so this habit is really a necessity, a means of
hiding from view and protecting the soft, defenceless
body.

CHAPTER V.

FISH AS NEST-BUILDERS.

THE idea of a fish acting as a master-builder sounds,
perhaps, rather astonishing and unlikely, but there
are one or two very interesting examples to be met with
among both fresh-water and marine fishes. They can-
not be said to erect very stately or lasting structures,
for their building operations are confined to the con-
struction of nests to hold their spawn ; and once the
young are hatched and have made their escape, the
frail structure soon falls into ruin and total disinte-
gration.

I will first deal with the little Stickleback, which is a
familiar denizen of our streams and larger ponds, and
a most able nest-builder. Quite early in the year the
male Stickleback begins to seek for what he considers
a favourable building site at the bottom of the pond
or stream which he inhabits, and should he find another
male already occupying the coveted site, a most des-
perate encounter ensues, the rivals attacking each other
not only with their mouths, but with the three sharp
erectile spines upon the back. The victor then enters
into possession, his vanquished opponent slinking sorrow-
fully away. But the victor may not be allowed to rest
on his laurels in undisputed enjoyment of his newly

W ft
O -o

Fish as Nest-builders.

acquired possessions ; for, should the site be a peculiarly
attractive one, other males will challenge his right to
it, and a series of combats will be fought over it
until the strongest and boldest male gains permanent
possession. Having successfully driven off all rival
claimants, the little Stickleback proceeds to dig founda-
tions and collect building materials. The foundations
take the form of a shallow depression in the sandy
soil, which the Stickleback makes by rolling his body
about thereon. Then he begins to collect delicate
vegetable fibres, selecting the smallest stems and root-
lets of various water weeds, placing them longitudinally
in the hollow already excavated for their reception,
and securing them in position by a secretion of mucus
from his skin. The floor of the nest completed, the
little builder proceeds with the erection of the walls,
using the same materials as employed for the floor,
leaving a small opening or door, finally crowning the
whole with a roof of similar material.

By the time that the nest-building operations are com-
pleted, the little Stickleback has attained the full glory of
his spring colouring : he has donned his courting dress,
and is a most resplendent object, his breast and throat
mantled with scarlet hues, while his sides shine and flash
with metallic lustre. Off he starts to seek a suitable
bride. And here again we find his lordship somewhat
critical and hard to please. By no means does he pay
court to the first little lady Stickleback that may chance
to cross his path, and he may inspect and even carry
on a mild flirtation with several before he finds one to
fulfil his ideals. In this selection he is probably seek-
ing for one whose ova are ripe for spawning. The fair

How Animals Work.

object of his desires discovered, the little Stickleback
at once returns with her to the neighbourhood of the
nest. Then a great deal of fussing and coaxing takes
place ; for the little lady fish is coy, or does not quite
approve the appearance of the nest, and at first declines
to enter. The little male grows tremendously excited
at her reluctance to comply with his wishes, glowing
with colour, hovering over and half entering the nest,
as if to show her the way in, and then setting up the
spines on his back and dashing about in a most agi-
tating way. This latter performance generally has the
desired effect, and, half persuaded, half driven, the
little female at last enters the nest. Her stay within
that neatly-made structure, however, is by no means
a lengthy one; for she only remains long enough to
lay a few yellow eggs therein, and then immediately
departs.

The little male now enters the nest to examine
and fertilize the eggs, and then comes forth to spend
the rest of the day in short encounters with any
males that dare to approach. Next morning he is up
betimes and away in search of his lady-love, who
is not always the lady of the previous day. Indeed,
two or three different females may each in turn be
brought home to provide the full complement of eggs
for the nest. Once this is accomplished, the little
male closes the entrance to the nest, and, taking up
his position outside, mounts guard, fiercely driving
away all intruders, including the mothers of his family,
should they deign to approach. For some ten to thirty
days, according to the temperature of the water, the
little fish keeps watch and ward over the nest, which

Fish as Nest-builders.

from time to time he enters to make sure that all is
well withki, vibrating his fins the while so as to pro-
duce a current of water through the nest to aerate the
spawn. All this time the mothers take not the least
heed of what is going on ; in fact, they are conspicuous
by their absence from this scene of domesticity, having
gone off to enjoy themselves, and it is the industrious
little male who brings up the family. Indeed, should
some accident overtake him during his guardianship,
the nest will at once be torn to pieces by other Stickle-
backs and its precious contents devoured. The parental
labours do not terminate with the hatching of the spawn,
for the male keeps his offspring safely confined to the
nest for about a* week after their hatching, until they
have grown to about three or four millimetres in length,
when he pulls the nest to pieces and permits his family
to come forth.

The marine Stickleback, sometimes called the Sea-
adder, is rather larger than the fresh-water species,
attaining to a length of from six to eight inches ; and
not only does it build a nest, but it binds the materials
together with silky threads spun from its own body.
" The nest," writes Professor J. T. Cunningham, " con-
sists of growing seaweeds, and the kidneys of the male
in the breeding season secrete a gelatinous substance
which hardens as it is drawn out into a strong, white,
continuous fibre, and this is wound about and woven
into the nest as the fish swims about it during its con-
struction. This fish, therefore, may be said to spin
a cocoon somewhat in the same manner as a silkworm
or other caterpillar. The sea Stickleback affords the
only instance of spinning among the vertebrates of

How Animals Work.

which we have certain knowledge." The Stickleback
appears either to find a suitable growing tuft of sea-
weed in which to build, or to collect together some of
the soft threads of green or red seaweeds, joining them
to the stouter fronds of coralline growing on the rocks
so as to give the structure additional firmness and
stability, the whole being woven together by the silky
threads spun from the secretion of the kidneys. When
completed the nest is somewhat pear-shaped, and some
five or six inches in length. In this remarkable struc-
ture the female deposits her eggs, and then departs,
leaving the male fish to mount guard over the nest until
the young hatch and make their escape.

Several tropical fishes are very expert builders, and
one, called Gymnarchus, constructs a very large float-
ing nest of grasses, about two feet long by twelve inches
wide. Three sides of this remarkable nest project above
the surface of the water, while the fourth side is about
two inches and the bottom about six inches beneath
the surface. According to the natives, the parent fish
guards the nest until the young are hatched and make
their escape. Another African fish, the Heterotis,
makes a nest some four feet in diameter, enclosed
by walls eight inches thick, made of grasses which
the fish removes from the interior so as to have the
bottom composed of the smooth, bare ground of the
swamp.

The Chinese Paradise-fish constructs a most remark-
able floating nest literally composed of air bubbles. In
the breeding season the little male who constructs this
nest is resplendent in bluish green, with bands of red
and patches of orange. He may be seen to rise to the

Fish as Nest-builders.

surface of the water and suck in a mouthful of air. He
holds this in his mouth for a while, and then permits
it to escape and rise to the surface of the water in the
form of a bubble. This process is repeated again and
again, until a regular collection of bubbles has been
formed, all clinging together in a mass some three or
four inches in diameter. The bubbles do not burst,
for each one as it was formed within the mouth of the
little fish received a coating of slime or mucus secreted
by special glands, so that they are really miniature
bladders more than bubbles, stuck closely together.
Having completed this strange nest, the little Paradise-
fish goes forth in search of a wife, and soon returns
with her, and induces her to spawn beneath the shelter
of the raft-nest.

The eggs of the Paradise-fish are very buoyant, so
that as they leave the female they do not sink, but float
upward and stick to the under surface of the raft-nest.
All the time that the little female is depositing her eggs,
the male is in a great state of excitement and watchful-
ness, in case any of the precious eggs should go astray ;
and should one float away beyond the nest, he will at
once give chase, and bring it safely back in his mouth,
like a dog returning a lost ball. He is by no means
contented with one wife, and several females will be
brought in succession to deposit their spawn beneath
the raft-nest, until some five hundred eggs may be
collected beneath it. Then, like the male Stickleback,
the little male Paradise-fish mounts guard while the
ladies depart to enjoy themselves. Not for one instant
does the devoted little fellow neglect his duty, and it is
very pretty to see, with what care he tends the eggs,

How Animals Work.

moving them about, bringing those in the centre to the
outside, and transferring those which were outside to-
wards the middle, so that all shall constantly be in
fresh water. When the eggs at last hatch, he then
mounts guard over his offspring, keeping the fry well
together under the safe shadow of the raft-nest, and
bringing back any that may wander outside its boundary.
Not until the young fish can swim freely does he relax
his vigilance and permit them to depart from the shelter
of the nest.

A still more remarkable nest is built by the Rainbow-
fish, which lives in the rivers of Northern India and is
common in the Ganges and the Jumna. As its popular
name denotes, it is a very handsome fish, its body
brilliantly coloured with bands of scarlet and light blue.
The male Rainbow-fish also builds a floating nest, but it
is not composed of air bubbles like that of the Paradise-
fish, and is a much more complex affair. This little
fish selects the delicate, slender threads of those hair-
like water plants called confervae, which are to be found
growing in almost every pond and sluggish stream.
These threadlike plants are just a trifle heavier than the
surrounding water, and therefore are to be found drifting
at a little distance below the surface, if there is any cur-
rent to carry them along, or resting on the river bottom.
When about to build his nest, the little Rainbow-fish
rises to the surface and takes in a mouthful of air, very
much after the fashion of the Paradise-fish ; but instead
of forming it into one large bubble, he converts it into
a number of tiny ones, which he proceeds to expel from
his mouth in such a manner that they become entangled
in some of the floating threads of confervse, and carry

Fish as Nest-builders.

them up to the surface. This process is repeated several
times, until the little fish has got together sufficient
threads to start weaving his raft. When he has woven
together a mass of threads about an inch in diameter,
he rises to the surface, takes in a large gulp of air, and,
without enclosing it in mucus after the manner of the
Paradise-fish, liberates it beneath the raft which he is in
process of weaving, and which is thus buoyed up. Off
he goes in search of more plant threads, and these as
they are collected are fastened alongside the first, until
the whole mass measures some four inches in diameter.
Once more he ceases from weaving, and pays a succes-
sion of visits to the surface to collect more air to liberate
it beneath the raft, until the middle begins to rise as
a tiny green rounded dome, some two inches above the
surface of the water. More confervae are now collected
and placed around the dome, and carefully and stoutly
woven into place, like a broad flat brim sewn on to
the crown of a dome-shaped hat.

This remarkable raft-nest completed, the little Rain-
bow-fish escorts a series of females beneath it, so that
their floating eggs are placed beneath the shelter of the
dome. He then mounts guard and tends the eggs, in
very much the fashion of the Paradise-fish, for about
three days, and then, that the eggs may be completely
surrounded with water and the young successfully
hatched from them, he makes a hole in the top of the
nest and lets the imprisoned air escape, with the result
that the dome falls in, and both raft-nest and eggs sink
gently down to the bottom. As soon as the young
hatch out, the little Rainbow-fish proceeds to undo the
firmly woven edge of the nest, and ravels it out until

How Animals Work.

a regular fringing curtain hangs down all round and
forms a most successful barrier to the escape of the
little ones, who are thus kept snug at home until they
are strong enough to lead independent lives, when
they swim away to fend for themselves.

PLATE VII.

TYPES OF TREE-WASP NESTS.

THE MOLE CRICKET.

One of the most expert miners of the insect world.

CHAPTER VI.

WONDERS OF INSECT ARCHITECTURE : SOCIAL
BUILDERS.

FROM the insect world we may obtain many strik-
ing examples of constructive ability, and the erection
of wonderful dwellings for the protection of the de-
fenceless young and the storage of food supplies.

Few people have a good word for the Common
Wasp, and yet, despite her somewhat irritable temper
and her propensity to use her sting at the slightest
provocation, she is really a valuable friend to man, and
more particularly to the dweller in large towns and
cities, for she destroys quantities of house-flies. Now
any creature that will destroy the house-fly is doing
invaluable service to the town-dweller, for there is no
more fruitful distributer of disease germs in our cities
than that buzzing, ubiquitous insect. Breeding amidst
all sorts of decaying refuse, the adult fly delights to
feast upon the filth and garbage of the street, loading
its hairy body and limbs with all sorts of disease germs.
Fresh from its noisome repast, it will fly in at the open
window and take an involuntary bath in the milk jug,
or creep about over any food that may be exposed upon
the table, in this way carrying disease germs to our
food supply. Indeed, the appalling infant mortality

(i,9io) 65 E

How Animals Work.

during the hot summer months in the crowded slums
of our large industrial cities is largely due to infection
being carried from house to house, and from room to
room, by the house-fly. Now, if you will watch the
wasps, leaving them undisturbed, you may see how
they will hover about the garden or a room, pouncing
upon the flies and carrying them off in triumph, only to
return a few moments later in search of more. Indeed,
standing one hot summer afternoon in a typical squalid
street of one of our towns, looking at the black masses
of flies that were swarming over the various articles of
food exposed for sale on the slab of an open shop front,
my attention was attracted to a constant stream of wasps,
going and coming with the greatest regularity, each
departing wasp carrying off a captured fly. As on the
average one wasp arrived and promptly pounced upon
a fly every fifteen seconds, it was a most convincing
demonstration of the value of the wasp in helping to
destroy the horrible, disease-spreading house-fly.

But now let us consider the Common Wasp as an
architect and builder. The nest is really a very remark-
able structure, more or less globular in shape, and
generally hidden underground, in some wayside bank
or hedgerow. The Queen Wasp is the foundress of
the nest, and the whole structure is built up in a com-
paratively short space of time, the close of the autumn
seeing the death of its teeming inhabitants ; for the
wasps do not lay up stores of food arfd continue as
a permanent community year after year, like their
cousins the hive bees. The first really warm days of
spring see the Queen Wasp coining forth from some
snug retreat where she has slept through the long, cold,

Wonders of Insect Architecture.

dark winter months, safe out of reach of the frosts.
She stretches her cramped limbs in the glad warmth
of the spring sunshine, rubs herself down and washes
her face with the aid of her slender legs, and then, with
a flutter of her small but powerful wings, darts off
into the garden. Follow her, and we find that she
has not gone very far afield, but is anxiously and thor-
oughly exploring every foot of the sunny bank of the
hedge. She enters one small hole after another, only
to quickly reappear with a little dissatisfied buzz ; for
she is in the throes of house, or rather site, hunting,
seeking for a suitable position for the erection of her
nest. At last she disappears down a somewhat larger
hole, perhaps the entry to a deserted burrow of a field-
mouse, and remains out of view for some minutes.
Returning to the surface, she pops her head out, looks
eagerly all round, and then, as if satisfied with the
general surroundings as viewed from the dark entry,
emerges and once again proceeds with her toilet. It
is only a momentary rest — a feminine sign of satisfac-
tion at the final selection of the building site. Once
more she disappears through the hole in the bank, and
could we follow her we should see that she is busy
within breaking away the soil, clearing away the debris,
which she brings to the surface piecemeal, until she
has fashioned a chamber to meet her immediate require-
ments. Then out into the sunlight once more, and a
few seconds spent in vigorous toilet operations to rid
her body and limbs of any clinging particles of dirt,
and then away on swiftly vibrating wings to the nearest
old wooden weathered fence that she can find. Every
seasoned paling is carefully examined, tapped by quiver-

How Animals Work.

ing antennae, tested by eager jaws, until a suitable place
is found. Then she at once begins to gnaw vigorously
at the woody fibres, working excitedly with might and
main until a little bundle has been separated, and the
fragments of fibre have been gnawed and worked up
into a kind of wood pulp. Grasping this precious
burden with her jaws and front legs, she flies back,
and disappears within the hole in the hedge bank.

Within the excavation in the hedge bank, she now
clings to the roof with her second and third pairs of
legs, while with the first pair, and the aid of her powerful
jaws, she attaches the wood pulp she has brought with
her to the ceiling of the chamber. There are now swift,
repeated visits to the old weathered palings for fresh
supplies of wood pulp, which are in turn worked up
and attached to the first piece fixed to the roof of the
chamber, until at last a small pendent pillar of wood
pulp is formed. The Queen Wasp now proceeds to
form three very shallow, cup-shaped cells at the end
of the pillar, and, after depositing an egg in each, con-
structs a protecting wood-pulp roof over them. More
cells are continually added, eggs deposited therein, and
the wood-pulp roof extended over them.

In a short time the eggs that were deposited in the
first three cells have hatched, and tiny hungry grubs have
emerged. The little grubs, or larvae, grow rapidly, and
as they increase in size so the Queen Wasp adds more
material to increase the depth of the cells, that the
larvae shall not fall out although suspended head down-
wards. The busy parent is now toiling all day long,
enlarging the chamber by excavating the earth from
the roof, sides, and floor, then going forth to seek further

Wonders of Insect Architecture.

supplies of wood pulp for the building of the nest,
and bringing fresh food supplies for her hungry off-
spring. At last the first batch of larvae attain their full
size, cease to feed, and spin a silken cover over their
cells. Beneath this silken coverlet they change to pupae
and undergo their final transformations, and the now
perfect wasps gnaw their way out of the cells. As soon
as the young wasps have gained sufficient strength they
begin the labours of nest-building and feeding the larvae ;
the Queen Wasp now has little else to do but deposit
eggs in the cells as fast as they are built by the worker
wasps, who are really sterile females, incapable of pro-
ducing offspring, and very much smaller than the fertile
queen.

Now the colony begins to rapidly increase in numbers,
and the cells of the first comb become filled, and more
accommodation is required. Using the junction point
of these cells of the first tier as a foundation, the worker
wasps form a series of pendent columns in exactly the
same manner as that built by the queen, and by adding
cells to each column they are eventually all united, and
form a second tier at just sufficient distance below the
first to permit the wasps to cross each other on the upper
and lower tier without touching. In this second tier,
as in the first, the mouths of the cells all open down-
wards and their bases are uppermost, so that the bases
of the second tier form a floor on which the wasps can
walk without disturbing the larvae in the cells of the
first tier above. In this way a third, fourth, and fifth
tier are added, all exactly alike as regards the size of
the cells in which the great multitude of worker wasps
are reared.

How Animals Work.

The season has now far advanced, and the wasps,
as if aware of the approach of autumn, begin to form
tiers the cells of which are of much larger dimensions,
and are destined to be the nurseries in which perfect
male and female wasps will be reared. By the time
these fully developed males and females have com-
pleted their transformations summer has practically
passed, and they very shortly leave the nest, to which
they will never return, for none of the males survive
their brief wedlock for more than a few hours. A large
proportion of the fertilized queens perish with the first
frosts of autumn, only the comparatively few lucky
surviving queens creeping into warm, sheltered nooks,
where they will remain dormant in the profound sleep
of hibernation throughout the winter, awakening with
the return of spring, each to become the foundress of
a new nest. As soon as the perfect males and females
are reared, then the worker wasps, who have laboured
so indefatigably throughout the summer in the con-
struction of this wonderful nest and in the rearing of
its teeming inhabitants, cease their toiling, and instead
of continuing to feed and tend with unremitting care
the remaining larvae, seize upon them, drag them from
the cells, bear them far afield, and there abandon them
to a quick death by exposure, or perhaps to be pounced
upon by some hungry bird. In this way during the
first chill days of autumn the entire population desert
the nest and perish.

The Wood or Bush Wasp is a little smaller than
the Common Wasp, and instead of excavating a chamber
in the soil, hangs its nest from the branches of some
woodland tree or bush, or sometimes under the project-

Wonders pf Insect Architecture.

ing roof of a farm building. The little round nest, offen
slightly pear-shaped, is a very beautiful structure, its
outer covering or envelope being made up of a perfectly
smooth gray paper, which is slightly shiny and flexible,
and quite impervious to water, so that the larvae within
the nest are kept snug and dry, no matter how violent
the summer showers. As in the case of the Common
Wasp, it is the Queen-Mother Wood Wasp who, after
her long winter sleep, comes forth and begins the build-
ing of the nest. She selects the site and forms the
foundations of the nest, working up the wood pulp
with her jaws, mixing it with saliva, and spreading and
moulding it to the required shape. In the middle of
the nest she forms a thick column, sustaining a single
comb, which is generally composed of from eight to
twelve cells. This work completed, she deposits an egg
in each cell ; and when the resulting larvae have hatched
and successfully passed through their transformations,
they become her workers and nurses. These workers
now enlarge the first comb by adding new cells around
it. Then they set to work and construct a second
comb, attaching it to the first by two or three pillars,
and in this way a succession of combs which may total
to six tiers will be constructed, the number depending
on the increase of the population of the nest. The
whole is covered with three paper envelopes placed
one over the other, which are never attached to the
combs, but form a perfect waterproof protection, with
an opening at the base of the nest sufficiently large to
permit the wasps to come and go with ease about their
business.

A wasp having a long slender body, and the first

How Animals Work.

segment of the abdomen formed into a long pedicle or
stalk, and called the Polistes Gallica, is an interesting
little nest-builder frequenting open spaces and woods
in France. In the spring-time it is a most interesting
sight to watch the little wasp building her nest and
feeding her offspring. This wasp is particularly fond
of attaching her nest to the straight, narrow stems of
the broom, which grows in the most convenient form
for her particular method of building, and in such
situations as she loves to frequent. Early in May the
little mother Polistes thoroughly awakens from the torpor
of her long winter sleep, and sets to work with great
vigour and perseverance upon the construction of her
nest. She collects fibres of bark from the neighbour-
ing trees, and chews them up with her strong jaws until
a perfectly homogeneous pulp is produced and con-
verted into a strong gray paper. With this material
mother Polistes forms a solid foundation for the nest,
and a strong stalk, or peduncle, which has to maintain
the comb. This comb is very small and never covered
up with protecting outer envelopes, and is subsequently
increased in size by the addition of new cells. These
nests are always placed obliquely on the plant stem to
which they are attached, so that the rain falls off them
without entering the cells; while, as a further protec-
tion, the larvae when about to change to the pupa stage
close their cells by forming a silken cocoon.

The Armadillo Wasp, which is found in Guiana,
builds a most remarkable nest, its ridged exterior hav-
ing a fancied resemblance to the back of the animal
from which the wasp takes its popular name. This
wasp selects as its building site the straight and upright

Wonders of Insect Architecture.

branch of a tree which has no lateral twigs, and makes
the branch the axis or central support of the nest. To
the branch a series of combs, each
composed of a limited number of
cells, are firmly attached, each tier
separated by an appreciable space.
Over these combs, to which it is
not attached, a very elaborate
paper envelope is formed, and
attached closely to the branch
above and below the combs, with
a small opening low down for
the entry and exit of the wasps.
The fibres of which this paper
envelope is formed are arranged
with wonderful regularity, and
the envelope is tinted with longi-
tudinal bands of different colour,
while its surface is marked with
transverse oval ridges, giving it
a scalloped appearance.

The slim-bodied Polybias of
tropical America are all remark-
able builders. Some, like the
Polybia liliacea, make a wonder-
ful nest, nearly four feet in height
and containing thousands of cells,
which is attached to a branch of
a tree and covered with a thick, Nest of Polybia.
rough envelope of almost cardboard texture. Others make
the most tiny, frail, and beautifully formed habitations,
about a quarter of an inch in length, on the under sur-

How Animals Work.

faces of the palm leaves. Chartergus nidulans, one of
the so-called Pasteboard Wasps and a native of Brazil,
makes a most beautiful covering to its nest of a polished
white appearance, and so solid as to withstand the
heavy tropical rains. So closely does the work of these
insect paper-makers resemble that manufactured by the
mechanical means employed by man, that the French
naturalist Reaumur, on showing some of the material of
which these nests are composed to a cardboard manu-
facturer, the expert in paper promptly declared it to be
most likely the produce of a certain factory at Orleans.

Have you ever really carefully examined the combs
in a beehive, or the honey-filled comb on the breakfast-
table ? It is well worth looking at closely, for it is one
of the most wonderful, if not the most wonderful, of the
structures built up by insects. For its purpose, the comb
of the Hive Bee is absolutely perfect in every respect ;
and that is a statement which cannot be made concern-
ing many structures. Our greatest mathematicians agree
that the six-sided cell, with its base composed of three
rhombs or diamonds, adopted by the Hive Bee, is the
best possible shape for her requirements. As regards
the materials for the construction of the comb, the bee
does not need to collect them, but produces them from
her own body, in the shape of thin sheets of beeswax
— the very best material that could be chosen for the
purpose. Indestructible to all the elements save heat,
it can be rendered soft and pliable and worked up into
plates only the one hundred and eightieth part of an
inch in thickness — the normal thickness of each cell
wall. A bad conductor of heat, beeswax is therefore
a valuable building material, as it will conserve the heat

Wonders of Insect Architecture.

of the hive ; while apparently the only creature that
will eat it is the larva of the Wax Moth, against whose
depredations, however, a strong hive of bees will always
hold their own.

The wax-secreting organs lie just under the segments
of the abdomen of the bee, three on each side of the
body ; and when the process of wax secretion is going
on, the little whitish oblong scales of wax can be seen
projecting from under the body segments. One of the
joints of the hind leg of the worker bee is wonderfully
modified so as to form a special instrument for the
removal of the wax from the body segments. The wax
is then transferred to the insect's jaws to be masticated,
and, with the addition of saliva, worked up into a paste
and materially increased in bulk. The resulting soft,
pliable material is then applied to the construction of
the comb.

The building of a new bee city is a serious under-
taking, and many and complicated are the problems
which confront its builders in the course of their labours.
The way in which these difficulties are surmounted, and
the perfection of result attained, fill one with admira-
tion and wonder. In the city about to be bailt accom-
modation has to be provided for some twenty thousand
or more individuals. Provision must be made for the ade-
quate supply of nurseries, as something like ten thousand
or twelve thousand baby bees may be requiring attention
at one time. Then sufficient storerooms must be built
in which to pack away enough food supplies to carry
the community over the long six months of autumn and
winter, when no supplies can be procured outside the
hive. All this has to be planned within a limited space,

How Animals Work.

attention being given at the same time to perfect ven-
tilation; and as the temperature in winter can only
be kept up by the bodily warmth of the bees, the
building materials and general construction must con-
serve and not dissipate the heat — factors of vital impor-
tance to the health and prosperity of the bee city. And
for all the work of construction nothing but wax can
be employed — precious material which must be used
with the greatest economy ; while the work must be
performed in the shortest possible space of time, and
with the minimum amount of labour consistent with
perfect results.

In the construction of the comb the worker bee is
confronted with the problem of producing a receptacle
which will serve alike as a nursery and a storehouse
for honey. The shape of the young bee larva being
round and oblong, a cylindrical cell at once suggests
itself as the most suitably shaped structure to build,
for it would serve quite as well for a honey vat, or as
a nursery. But thousands of these cylinders will be
needed ; and they must be packed as closely together
as possible, so that there shall be no loss of warmth,
and also to economize space. Now, no matter how
closely you pack together round cells or tubs, there will
be useless interstices left between them, which will
require a large amount of wax to fill up. Obviously,
then, the perfect cylinder is not the ideal form of recep-
tacle it at first appears to be.

In problem number two the question arises how
best to dispose the large number of receptacles, once
their shape has been definitely decided upon, so as to
effect the greatest saving in space and in building mate-

Wonders of Insect Architecture.

rials. They might be arranged tier upon tier, like
the papery combs of the wasp, only mouth upwards,
so that the honey could not run out. But such an
arrangement has many disadvantages : it would necessi-
tate the building of a substantial floor to support the
weight of the cells when filled with honey ; and, to pre-
vent sagging of the floors during the heat of summer,
they would have to be supported by pillars placed here
and there, as may be seen in the wasp's nest — work
that would use up much precious wax.

How does the worker bee solve these problems ?
The first she accomplishes by the one and only pos-
sible solution — namely, by adopting the hexagonal cell,
with its base composed of three rhombs, as the
shape of the receptacle that shall serve as nursery
or storehouse as occasion shall require ; while the
second is accomplished by placing the cells back to
back, so that one thin central, vertical sheet of wax
serves to stop the ends of all the cells on each side.
Moreover, the vertical comb is not built from be-
low upwards, but from the top of the frame or from
the roof downwards. First, a small block of wax is
attached to the roof, and then on either side of this
support the bees hollow out depressions which become
the bases of the first cells. After this the work is
extended downwards and sideways, the cell bases being
multiplied as quickly as possible in all directions, with
the result that there are a great number of half-finished
cells in process of construction long before the walls
of the first cells are completed, this rapid first exten-
sion of foundations permitting a greater number of
bees to work on the formation of the cells. Close

How Animals Work.

inspection will also show that the cells are not being
built end to end in line, but that each cell base on one
side of the comb covers part of three cell bases on the
other. Should we, with the help of a fine needle, per-
forate the three diamonds which form the triangular
base of a single cell, and then turn over and examine
the comb on the opposite side, we shall see that each
hole enters a separate cell. By this arrangement the
pyramidal bases on each side of the comb engage alter-
nately like the teeth of a spring trap, and a considerable
saving in total width of the comb is attained ; while
the faces of the pyramids are so contrived that each
of them helps to close two cells. Moreover, by this
arrangement the apex and three ribs of each pyramidal
cell base form foundation lines for the cell walls on
the other side of the comb, so that not only do all cell
walls abut on an arch, but every cell base is strength-
ened throughout by a triple girdering ; and in this way
the amount of wax required for the building of the
comb can be everywhere reduced to an absolute mini-
mum. Indeed, this piece of comb, built by the un-
ceasing labours of the worker bees from material secreted
by their bodies, is one of the most wonderful and per-
fect examples of expert craftsmanship to be seen the
whole world over.

CHAPTER VII.

WONDERS OF INSECT ARCHITECTURE: SOLITARY
BUILDERS.

r I ^HE Bees and Wasps whose wonderful architectural
A powers we have so far considered all live in com-
munities of varying size, and from this general habit
are called Social Bees and Wasps. There are, how-
ever, a number of species which do not live in com-
munities, but in which each individual builds its own
nest. These Solitary Bees and Wasps are quite as
clever artisans as their Social relations, and although
the nests which they construct do not attain to such
a size, they are wonderful examples of skill ; while
the habits of the little Solitary builders are in many
instances most deeply interesting.

The Mason Bee is very common in some parts of
France, and it was the great naturalist Re*aumur who
first drew attention to its wonderful skill as a builder
in stone and cement. On jhe surface of a sun-baked
stone wall numerous small, more or less dome or egg
shaped lumps of mud may often be seen, looking as if
some one had been throwing pellets of mud at the
wall, to which they had become attached. Closer in-
spection will show them to be formed not of mud, but
of a clever admixture of gravel and earth, which sticks

How Animals Work.

to the wall with the greatest tenacity, requiring the use
of hammer and chisel to detach it. These oval masses
have been carefully built up, with wonderful patience
and art, by the little Solitary Mason Bee, who has
worked upon them as both architect and labourer.

It is in May that the female Mason Bee begins her
work. In the warm sunshine she may be seen most
carefully and methodically exploring every inch of the
surface of a stone wall. She will have nothing to do
with stucco or plaster, so dear to the heart of the human
jerry-builder, for she seems to be fully aware of its
unstable character. Having selected what she con-
siders a suitable site, she goes off to collect her build-
ing materials, flying off to some spot where a patch
of sandy or gravelly soil is exposed. Here she begins
scraping with her feet and working with her jaws until
she has dislodged a few small stones and sand-grains
of a certain size. These are mixed with earth, and a
little saliva which she disgorges, working the whole up
into a kind of mortar or cement to be used in building.
This successfully accomplished, she firmly grasps the
pellet and wings her way back to the wall, fastens it
there, and then hurries back for more. Sufficient
material collected, the little Mason now commences
building operations, working at the cement until the
walls of a tiny, somewhat oval-oblong cell begin to
appear. She works with a perfect fury of enthusiasm
and tireless energy, so that in one day of ceaseless labour
the cell is constructed, and its inner walls carefully
smoothed.

Now comes a change of work, for the completed cell
has to be victualled, and for the time being the little

Wonders of Insect Architecture.

hodman-architect must become an equally expert caterer,
wise in the collecting and blending of precious food-
stuffs. Nothing daunted, away on joyous, swiftly
vibrating wings she flies to the sunny meadows, all
fragrant with grasses and flowers, there to collect honey
and pollen. Flying rapidly from flower to flower, the
little Mason's crop soon becomes distended with honey,
and the lower surface of her body golden with pollen.
Away back to the cell, which she enters head first, and
for a moment we get a peep of her quivering body,
which tells that the honey is being disgorged from her
crop. Coming out of the cell, she turns round and
re-enters it backwards, this curious operation being per-
formed apparently that she may the better brush with
her two hind legs the load of golden pollen off her
body on to the regurgitated honey. This accomplished,
she enters the cell again head first, to stir and properly
mix together the honey and pollen into a sweet mass.
Many visits have to be made to the meadows, but at
last the cell is half filled with the honey paste, and
victualling operations are completed. An egg is now
deposited on the food mass, and the entrance to the cell
closed in by a cover of fine, undiluted mortar. Given
fine weather, the whole operation of cell-building,
victualling, egg-laying, and closing of the entrance is
completed in about two days. This, however, does
not see the close of the labours of our little insect archi-
tect, for no sooner is the first cell completed and vic-
tualled than a second cell, backing on the first, is started,
built up, and stored in the same way ; and so in succes-
sion a third, fourth, fifth, up to maybe eight or ten
cells, all close together, are built, provisioned, an egg

Si F

How Animals Work.

deposited in each, and carefully sealed. Each cell is
methodically completed before a second is attempted.

And now the little Mason Bee must begin her final
labours, for although each cell is completed and sealed,
its walls are not sufficiently thick to withstand rough
weather. The burning heat of the midsummer sun
would convert each cell into a miniature oven, while
the rains of autumn and the frosts of winter would
disintegrate its walls. So, when all the cells are com-
pleted, the little Mason sets to work to build a thick,
substantial cover over the whole group — a cover which
shall be practically a non-conductor of heat or cold,
and impermeable to moisture, so that all is snug and
dry within." Layer upon layer of cement is plastered
on until a thick dome, about as big as half an orange,
encloses the group of cells and hides them from view.
No care is taken to smooth or decorate the outside of
the dome, so that, but for its oval shape, the nest looks
like a clod of mud. Nor is this rough, unfinished
exterior unintentional, or a sign that the little Mason
had grown careless as her labours reached their final
completion, for that rugged exterior helps to hide the
precious contents from the sight of many foes.

As the months slip by, what is happening beneath
that plastered dome ? From the single egg laid in
each cell a tiny grub or larva comes forth, feasts
upon the mass of honey paste provided for its sus-
tenance, and when all is devoured spins for itself
a silken lining to the walls of its chamber, a cocoon
in which to pass through its final transformations.
And now, their metamorphosis completed, the adult
bees — reddish-coloured males and black females — are

Wonders of Insect Architecture.

ready to quit the nest. Yet how will they make their
escape from their prison-like home, the walls of which
are stout and hard as rock, and appear to have no
doorway ? Thoughtful mother Mason 'Bee has made
provision, however, for the eventful day when the off-
spring she is destined never to behold shall have com-
pleted their transformations, and stand ready to emerge
from the safe retreat upon the construction of which
she lavished so much toil and care. When constructing
the roof and general wall of the nest, the little Mason
Bee left a narrow slit low down near each cell, a kind
of door, hidden very carefully by rather soft sand or
cement, through which the young perfect bees will be
easily able to make their escape, breaking it down, and
so making their way into the sunshine of the outer
world.

When seeking for a suitable situation or building
site, the little Mason Bee will, should she find one,
use the ruins of a last year's nest for the foundations
and walls of a new one. These old and more or less
ruinous nests, containing vacant cells and the skins of
the pupae, very frequently remain attached to the wall
or stone upon which they were built ; and the Mason
Bee, when exploring for a suitable building site, appears
to keep a sharp lookout for them, for if she can dis-
cover one it will mean a considerable saying of time
and labour. Should she succeed in her search, the
little Mason at once enters into possession, and will
fiercely contest her rights should another of her species
dare venture to claim possession. She enters the ruins,
and at once begins a thorough spring cleaning, re-
moving the debris of the cocoons and the cast skins

How Animals Work.

of the larvae and pupae, and all unclean material that
may have accumulated. Then the holes and weak
places are all filled up and strengthened, until the old
nest is converted into a perfect state of repair, and
resembles in every respect that of the previous year.

Another closely related Mason Bee (Chalicodoma
siculd) is far more sociable in its habits, and, according
to that veteran authority Monsieur J. H. Fabre, " several
thousand will establish themselves on the under surface
of the tiles of a hovel or the edge of a roof. It is not
a real society with common interests, dear to all, but
merely a gathering where each works for herself and is
not concerned with the rest. Every constructor builds
as the fancy takes her, where and as she wills ; only
she must not interfere with her neighbour's work, or
rough treatment will soon call her to order. This work
goes on all through May. At length all the eggs are
laid, and the bees, without any distinction as to what
does or does not belong to themt all set to work on a
common shelter of the colony — a thick bed of mortar —
filling up spaces and covering all the cells. In the end
the nests look like a large mass of dry mud, very irregular,
-arched, thickest in the middle, the primitive kernel of
the establishment, thinnest at the edges, where there
are fewest cells, and very variable in extent."

The Leaf-cutting Bees excavate holes in the ground,
in rotten wood, or will take possession of any existing
excavation that is suitable or can be adapted to suit
their purpose. There is a Rose-leaf Cutting Bee which
sinks a perpendicular shaft in tolerably solid earth to
a depth of some inches, and then enlarges it into a hori-
zontal gallery of considerable length. She then flies

Wonders of Insect Architecture.

away to the rose bushes, and begins to examine their
foliage critically, finally selecting a nice, perfect leaf,
upon which she settles and proceeds to cut out a large
oblong piece with her mandibles. So perfectly is this
done that one might easily imagine it had been done by
a pair of scissors. Cutting rapidly, the bee
soon detaches the piece of leaf, which, how-
ever, is not allowed to fall to the ground, but
is held between the legs and jaws, whilst the
wings vibrate strongly, and is at once carried
off to the nest. Ten or twelve pieces of differ-
ent shape will be cut off in this manner and
transported to the nest, where the bee sets to
work and folds them, one within the other, in
the most expert fashion, so as to form them
into a sort of thimble-shaped cone. She then
visits the flower garden in search of honey and
pollen, returning again and again, until she has
gathered in sufficient to work up into a mass
of honey paste, which she places at the bot-
tom of the cell, and upon this she deposits
a single egg. She now once more visits the
rose bushes, and cuts from the leaves a series
of very nearly perfect circles, which she uses to Nest
seal up the top of the cell. A second cell is con-
structed in the same manner, its base fitting
against the top of the first, and thus a series of eight or
ten cells is formed, stocked with honey paste, and an
egg deposited in each. Then when the cell is completed,
the little bee comes out and closes the perpendicular shaft
with some of the earth she dug out in excavating it, work-
ing so carefully that no trace of the entrance can be seen.

oi
Bee

How Animals Work.

The Poppy Bee selects the petals of the common
scarlet poppy to line her nest. First she digs perpen-
dicular holes, selecting a dry, sandy soil for preference,
and smooths and pounds their sides with her feet so
as to make the walls firm and lasting. Then off she
flies in search of poppies, and, selecting the youngest
and freshest, cuts off pieces of the petals of the mos^
beautiful flowers. She then flies back to the hole she
has dug, and stuffs the strip of poppy petal into it.
The delicate red tissue is crumpled in the process, but
once inside the bee sets to work, and presses the petal
against the sides of the hole, working away until every
crease has been smoothed out. In this way the interior
of the cell is lined with the vivid scarlet pieces of poppy
petal. A mass of honey and pollen is then worked up
and an egg placed on it. The free ends of the Kning
of the cell are folded in to prevent any sand falling
upon the egg or the honey paste, and the entrance to
the cell is obliterated.

The great violet-winged Carpenter Bee is a most
interesting insect, and a very capable worker in wood,
while the genus to which she belongs contains many
of the largest and most powerful bees, and is very widely
distributed in various parts of the world. When about
to construct her nest the Carpenter Bee may be seen
flying from tree to tree, carefully examining the boughs,
and she will also investigate every wooden post and
beam that may be in the neighbourhood in her search
for a suitable site. What she is really seeking is a piece
of dry, seasoned wood, that is not too hard for ner
jaws ; for she never touches green living timber, though
she will form her nest in all sorts of dry wood that may

Wonders of Insect Architecture.

happen to be at hand. A satisfactory site having been
found, the Carpenter Bee at once sets to work, and
gnaws away with her strong mandibles to excavate a
cylindrical hole, some twelve inches or more in depth,
and which ultimately gives access to three or four
parallel galleries, in which she will form her broad cells.
This piece of carpentry is by no means a light under-
taking, and the bee may have to labour incessantly for
several weeks ere she sees its completion satisfactorily
accomplished. Small wonder, therefore, that she gladly
welcomes the discovery of an old gallery in a tree, or
a wooden post, or a beam already perforated by cylin-
drical holes, and will at once utilize such sites to meet
her requirements. The work of excavation completed,
the Carpenter Bee flies off, and collects honey and pollen
for the usual honey paste to provision her cells, after the
manner of the Mason and Leaf-cutting Bees. The
honey mass accumulated and the egg deposited, the
Carpenter Bee now proceeds to build up a partition
wall to isolate the cell. This she does by mixing saliva
from her jaws with the sawdust she has accumulated
in the course of her work of excavating the gallery,
working the sawdust up in this way into a thick pulp.
More supplies of food are brought in, another egg de-
posited, and another separating partition of wood pulp
formed, and this process is continued until about a
dozen of these cells have been constructed, one above
the other ; then the entrance to the gallery is closed.

We have in Great Britain a very interesting little
bee which makes its nest of wool or cotton, which it
obtains from plants growing near at hand. This inter-
esting little weaver is known as the Carder Bee, and is

How Animals Work.

referred to by good old Gilbert White, who says of it
in his ever delightful History of Selborne : " 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 bundle almost as large as itself, it
flies away, holding it secure between its chin and its
forelegs." These Carder Bees do not appear to form
burrows for themselves, but will utilize cavities in wood
that have been formed by other insects, or take posses-
sion of the deserted nests of other bees. The Carder
Bee having found a suitable receptacle, will line it with
a most beautiful network of cotton or wool, and inside
this she places a finer layer of the material, to which
is added a sort of waterproof cement to prevent the
honey mass stored by the bee for the use of its offspring
from leaking out of the nest. One species ot Carder
Bee which forms its nest in hollow stems has been
made the special study of Monsieur Fabre. He has
observed that it will take the cotton for its nest from
any suitable plant growing near at hand, not confining
itself to any particular order of plants, or even to those
peculiar to the south of France. " When it has brought
a ball of cotton to the nest, the bee spreads out and
arranges the material with its front legs and mandibles,
and presses it down with its forehead on to the cotton
previously deposited. In this way a tube of cotton is
constructed inside the reed. When withdrawn, the tube
proved to be composed of about ten distinct cells arranged

Wonders of Insect Architecture.

in linear fashion, and connected firmly together by
means of the outer layer of cotton. The transverse
divisions between the chambers are also formed of
cotton, and each chamber is stored with a mixture of
honey and pollen. The series of chambers does not
extend quite to the end of the reed, and in the un-
occupied space the insect accumulates small stores, little
pieces of earth, fragments of wood or other similar small
objects, so as to form a sort of barricade in the vesti-
bule, and then closes the tube by a barrier of coarser
cotton taken frequently from some other plant, the
mullein by preference. This barricade would appear
to be an ingenious attempt to keep out parasites ; but
if so it is a failure, at any rate as against Leucospis,
which insinuates its eggs through the sides, and fre-
quently destroys to the last one the inhabitants of the
fortress."

Besides the Solitary Bees just described, there are
a vast number equally skilful in their methods of build-
ing and in their habits ; but limitations of space render
it impossible to further refer to them, and we must
devote the remainder of this chapter to a very brief
description of the Solitary Wasps. In these remark-
able insects we appear to reach the very apex of insect
intelligence in the work of collecting and storing special
food supplies for the young. They form a very large
group of insects, to which a great deal of attention and
careful observation has been paid ; and so curious and
interesting are they in their habits, that it becomes
difficult to make a selection of examples which shall
do justice to the whole. It is, however, more in the
different methods employed in the capture of prey —

How Animals Work.

which consists of spiders, flies, the larvae of different
insects, and even such large insects as the grasshoppers,
used by these Solitary Wasps for victualling the cells
in which they deposit their eggs — that these insects are
remarkable, than in the character of the receptacles
formed for the reception of the egg and store of food.

In Central France, during the summer months, one
may frequently watch the labours of a little Solitary
Wasp called Pelopceus, which is a very expert mason,
and works in a most intelligent and persevering manner,
building her nest in walls, in the corners of buildings
and similar situations. Pelopaeus is a slender little
insect, and does not look at all fitted to carry heavy
building materials; yet she is a most ardent little
labourer, going to and fro in the hot sunshine between
the spot where she collects her materials and the site
she has selected for the nest. Very thoroughly the
little Pelopaeus will explore every inch of the surface
of a likely wall, her slender antennas and body quiver-
ing with excitement. Satisfied that the surface is
suitable for the attachment of her cells, Pelopaeus may
pause for a moment to indulge in toilet operations,
washing her face and stroking her antennae and body
with her slender legs. Then off she darts swiftly to a
spot close at hand where a clayey soil is exposed to
view. Here she works up small portions of the clay
with her mandibles and carries them back to the wall
for the construction of the nest.

With the clay so obtained she builds a hollow
chamber, and this satisfactorily accomplished, she de-
parts on a hunting expedition to collect food supplies.
This is no peaceful journey to the flowering fields, but

Wonders of Insect Architecture.

the bold adventure of capturing a dangerous and well-
armed prey ; for the little Pelopaeus elects to provision
her clay-built nest with spiders. Pelopaeus is at once
a bold and prudent huntress, and confident in the
knowledge that in her strong sting she possesses a most
deadly weapon, she fearlessly attacks the spiders, and
seems to thoroughly enjoy the dangers of the fight ; for
if she can but get in one lightning thrust of her sting,
the victory is hers. Knowing full well the danger of
her foe, Pelopaeus approaches the web with caution,
seeking suddenly to pounce upon and sting the spider
before it can do anything ; and generally she is success-
ful. Accidents will happen, however, and the best laid
schemes of a Pelopaeus may end in disaster, and the
spider, prepared for the attack, but apparently resting
quietly unconscious of the approach of danger, lures
on the over-confident little wasp, who finds her move-
ments suddenly paralyzed by a series of fine threads,
in which the more she struggles the more hopelessly
she becomes entangled. Then the spider rapidly
swathes her foe in layers of silken web and calmly de-
vours her. However, this fate does not often overtake
the Pelopaeus, and generally she will manage to bring
one, two, three or more spiders back to the nest, the
number depending upon the size of the individual
spiders.

These are all carefully stowed away in the cell, an
egg deposited close to them, and then more clay is
collected, worked up, and the little chamber closed.
Pelopaeus has by no means finished her labours with
the construction and victualling of one cell, but at once
starts upon the construction of a second, which is built

How Animals Work.

on to the side of the first, and upon the same horizontal
line. This second cell is provisioned and sealed up
in the same way as the first, and then a third, fourth,
fifth, and sometimes up to an eighth, are added. The
external surface of the finished nest is marked by long
depressions which correspond with the intervals be-
tween the cells ; while the lower part of the nest is
thinner than the rest, and when the larvae have become
full grown, changed to pupae, and completed their
transformations, the adult wasps bite their way out
from this part, and leave open holes showing where
they have made their escape.

Mr. Bates during his sojourn at Santarem and ex-
ploration of the Amazon had many opportunities of
watching the habits of the Solitary Wasps of those
regions, and gives the following account of an interest-
ing little worker in clay called Pelopceus fistularis : " It
collected the clay in little round pellets, which it carried
off, after rolling them into a convenient shape, in its
mandibles. It came straight to the pit with a loud
hum, and on alighting lost not a moment in beginning
its work — finishing the kneading of its little load in
two or three minutes. The nest of this species is
shaped like a pouch, two inches in length, and is at-
tached to a branch or other projecting object. One
of these restless artificers once began to build on the
handle of a chest in the cabin of my canoe when we
were stationary at a place for several days. It was so
intent upon its work that it allowed me to inspect the
movements of its mouth with a lens whilst it was laying
on the mortar. Every fresh pellet was brought in with
a triumphant song, which changed to a cheerful busy

Wonders of Insect Architecture.

hum when it alighted and began to work. The little
ball of moist clay was laid on the edge of the cell, and
then spread out around the circular rim by means of
the lower lip guided by the mandibles. The insect
placed itself .astride over the rim to work, and on finish-
ing each addition to the structure, took a turn round,
patting the sides with its feet inside and out before
flying off to gather a fresh pellet. It worked only in
sunny weather, and the previous layer was sometimes
not quite dry when the new coating was added. The
whole structure takes about a week to complete. On
opening closed nests of this species, which are common
in the neighbourhood of Mahica, I always found them
to be stocked with small spiders in the usual half-dead
state to which the mother wasps reduce the insects
which are to serve as food for their progeny." Mr.
Bates also describes another Solitary Wasp which
makes with clay " a neat little nest shaped like a carafe,
building rows of them together in the corners of the
verandas."

Another interesting little Solitary Wasp that builds
with clay is called Eumenes. The nest, or rather cell (for
she does not join the cells together like the Pelopaeus),
which Eumenes constructs with clay, is a small round,
vase-shaped earthenware vessel, in the walls of which
small stones are embedded to give it greater strength.
The cell once formed, Eumenes sets about the work of
provisioning it, using for the purpose small caterpillars
to the number of fourteen or sixteen for each cell.
Whether these caterpillars are stung or not does not
appear to be quite certain; but if so, the caterpillars
are not deprived of all movement, for they appear still

93.

How Animals Work.

to possess the power of moving their jaws and the hind
part of the body. Now if Eumenes placed her deli-
cate egg in the midst of these caterpillars, it would
probably suffer destruction. To prevent this happen-
ing, she suspends it by a delicate thread from the dome-
shaped covering of the nest, so that it hangs above the
mass of caterpillars. On hatching, the young larva
does not descend, but still makes use of the egg-shell as
its habitation, hanging down from this vantage point
to feed upon the caterpillars below. As the egg-shell
splits Up to a sort of ribbon, thus adding to the length
of the suspensory thread, the larva is able to reach
down and devour a number of caterpillars before it is
necessary for it to descend to the floor of the cell to get
at those stored beyond reach from the thread, and by
that time it has increased sufficiently in size and strength
to take no harm from any movements of the few re-
maining victims.

Ammophila is a genus of Solitary Wasps having a
very wide distribution, and its species make vertical
tunnels in the ground — in fact, they may be said to be
expert miners, excavating their miniature shafts, which
generally terminate in an oval chamber, with con-
siderable skill and dispatch, and victualling them with
caterpillars, which they sting in such a way as to com-
pletely paralyze. Monsieur Fabre, in France, has paid
special attention to their interesting habits, and the
American species have been ably watched and described
by Professor Peckham and his wife, from whose charm-
ing writings the following account has been compiled.
For the nest, " the spot chosen is in firm soil, some-
times in open ground,"but much more frequently under

Wonders of Insect Architecture.

the leaves of some plant. The plan is a simple one.
A tunnel of about an inch in length leads to the pocket
in 'which the caterpillars are stored. There is no hard-
ening of the walls in any part. The work is done with
the mandibles and the first legs. When it has pro-
ceeded so far that the wasp is partly hidden, she begins
to carry the earth away from the nest. In doing this
she backs up to the edge of the opening, and, flying
a little way, gives a sort of flick which throws the pellet
that she carries in her mandibles to a distance. She
then alights where she is and pauses a moment before
she runs back to the hole, or, in some cases, darts back
on the wing. Ammophila having made her excava-
tion, ran off, and after some search returned with a
good-sized lump of earth. This she laid over the
opening, which was not completely hidden. She then
flew to the bean patch close by, but after ten minutes
she came back and looked at her nest. It was so neatly
covered as to be almost indistinguishable, but to this
fastidious little creature something seemed lacking.
She pulled away the cover, carried out three or four
loads, and then began to search for another" piece for
closing. After a time she came hurrying back with a
lump of earth, but when close to the nest she con-
cluded that it would not do, dropped it, and ran off
in another direction. Presently she found one that
fitted into the hole exactly, and after placing it she
brought a much smaller piece which she put above
and to one side. She then stood back and surveyed
the whole, and it seemed to us that we could read pride
and satisfaction in her mien. She then flew away,
and we supposed that that stage of the work was com-

How Animals Work.

pleted. Upon coming back two hours later, however,
we found that she had been trying some new improve-
ments, as a number of little pellets had been piled up
over the nest."

After much watching and many disappointments
the Peckhams were at last rewarded in seeing the
Ammophila capture her prey. " The wasp attacked
at once, but was rudely repulsed, the caterpillar roll-
ing and unrolling itself rapidly and with most violent
contortions of the whole body. Again and again its
adversary descended, but failed to gain a hold. The
caterpillar, in its struggles, flung itself here and there
over the ground, and had there been any grass or other
covering near by it might have reached a place of
partial safety ; but there was no shelter within reach,
and at the fifth attack the wasp succeeded in alighting
over it. near the anterior end, and in grasping its body
firmly in her mandibles. Standing high on her long
legs and disregarding the struggles of her victim, she
lifted it from the ground, curved the end of her abdo-
men under its body, and darted her sting between the
third and fourth segments. From this instant there
was a complete cessation of movement on the part of
the unfortunate caterpillar. For some moments the
wasp remained motionless, and then, withdrawing her
sting, she plunged it successively between the third
and the second, and between the second and first
segments. The caterpillar was now left lying on the
ground. For a moment the wasp circled above it,
and then, descending, seized it again, farther back this
time, and with great deliberation and nicety of action
gave it four more stings, beginning between the ninth

Wonders of Insect Architecture.

and tenth segments and progressing backwards."
Having thus captured her prey, the Ammophila flies
off with it to the nest. On arriving there she at once
proceeds to remove the pellets of earth with which she
had so closely masked the entrance, and then picking
up the caterpillar brings it to the mouth of the burrow
and lays it down. Then, backing in herself, she seizes
it in her mandibles and drags it down out of sight.

The nest provisioned, and the egg deposited upon
the inanimate form of the caterpillar, Ammophila now
proceeds to close the nest and to most carefully ob-
literate all traces of the entrance. " In filling up her
nest she put her head down into it and bit away the
loose earth from the sides, letting it fall to the bottom
of the burrow, and then, after a quantity had accu-
mulated, jammed it down with her head. Earth was
then brought from the outside and pressed in, and then
more was bitten from the sides. When at last the
filling was level with the ground, she brought a quantity
of fine grains of dirt to the spot, and picking up a small
pebble in her mandibles, used it as a hammer in pound-
ing them down with rapid strokes, thus making this
spot as hard and firm as the surrounding surface. Be-
fore we could recover from our astonishment at this
performance she had dropped her stone and was bring-
ing more earth. Once more the whole process was
repeated, and then the little creature, all unconscious
of the commotion she had aroused in our minds, gave
one final, comprehensive glance around and flew
away."

A pretty little Solitary Wasp that may sometimes
be seen in large numbers flitting about the face of a

(1,910) G

How Animals Work.

sand-bank that is exposed to the full rays of the sun
is the Odynerus. It is a skilful little miner and mason,
for it drives a little shaft into the sand-bank, and out
of the material obtained in the process of excavation
forms a fragile tube which projects beyond the en-
trance to the shaft. Scraping away at the face of the

sand-bank, the little Ody-
nerus soon collects suffi-
cient grains of sand to work
up into a small pellet, which
is then placed on the edge
of the excavation she has just
started to make. Working
vigorously in the hot June
sunshine, she digs away with
untiring zeal, pellet after
pellet being formed and
placed in position, so that
as the shaft she is digging
deepens the little cylinder
projects further outward, at
first perpendicularly to the
surface on which its founda-
tions rest, but later, as it
increases in length, curving
over at what sometimes looks like a dangerous angle.
The object of this curious leaning tower appears to be
the masking of the entrance to the cell, and to dis-
courage the investigations of certain unwelcome insect
visitors who might desire to appropriate the chamber or
deposit their eggs therein. The shaft having been sunk
to a sufficient depth and the outside cylinder completed.

Nest of Solitary Wasp
(Odynerus).

Wonders of Insect Architecture.

Odynerus departs in search of the helpless larvae with
which she victuals the cell. Backwards and forwards
she flies, until she has collected perhaps ten or a dozen
larvae and stored them safely away at the bottom of
the shaft ; then, depositing an egg in the chamber,
she comes forth and at once proceeds to block up the
entrance. This she accomplishes by pulling down
the masking tower and stuffing the pellets into the
mouth of the shaft, finally bringing more sand grains
and scraping all round the edges of the opening, until
every external trace of it is removed.

CHAPTER VIII.

ANTS AND TERMITES.

THE Ants are indeed " a little people wondrous
wise," and no one can watch their rapid, alert
movements, their tireless energy, and equanimity in
surmounting the most disheartening problems and
difficulties, without becoming filled with admiration
and wonder.

Any one who has, in the course of a summer ramble,
passed through the sunny margin of a pine wood will
probably be familiar with the outward appearance of the
dome-shaped nests of the great Wood Ant (Formica
rufa), the largest of our British species. According
to the numerical strength of the colony and the season
of the year, so the height of the dome will vary from
a few inches to over two feet, while the circumference
of the base will vary in proportion. The Wood Ant
is an expert miner as well as a builder, for the first
duty of the dome of the nest is to form a shelter to
keep out the rain from the nurseries ; and should we
clear away the great heap of material which the ants
have collected in its construction, we should find the
openings to galleries or shafts driven down to a con-
siderable depth, and leading to chambers set aside for
special purposes.

100

Ants and Termites.

On a warm sunny morning in summer the surface
of the nest will present a scene of great animation, the
Wood Ants swarming all over its surface and hurrying
hither and thither about their various duties. At* first
the busy scene may appear to be more or less an aim-
less hurrying to and fro, destitute of reason or useful
purpose ; but closer observation, without disturbing or
alarming the busy little creatures, will prove this not
to be the case. Each individual of the swarming mul-
titude is engaged upon its own special duties, carrying
out in its own characteristic manner the task it has
to perform.

Should we time our visit at a fairly early hour of
the morning, we shall find that a large number of the
ants are busily engaged in removing the materials with
which the previous afternoon they had closed all the
entrances to the nest. One by one the slender pine
needles, the tiny twigs, and fragments of leaves are
dragged aside, until every doorway stands wide, per-
mitting the unimpeded exit and entry of the hurrying
workers. Now small bands of ants may be seen issuing
from the nest and marching off into the pine wood,
some in search of provisions, others to gather fresh
supplies of building materials wherewith to increase the
size of the dome and to strengthen it. Anon these ants
return struggling valiantly under the weight of their
burdens, hauling, pulling with might and main, dis-
playing the most extraordinary agility and a muscular
strength that seems out of all proportion to their
diminutive size, making light of burdens many times
their own bulk and weight. Some of these labourers will
carry the piece of twig, leaf, or other building material

101

How Animals Work.

right up on to the nest, and place it in that position
which seems to them best ; but others, directly they
reach the confines of the nest, will drop their burden
and hastily depart back to the woods in search of more.
As fast as material is brought to the nest it is distributed,
either being placed in position on the outside of the
nest, or carried within to be built into the walls of the
galleries and chambers that are situated within the
dome; for this edifice is by no means an absolutely
solid mass of material, but contains many apartments
and connecting passages, the former being used as day
nurseries for the larvae and pupae, while the galleries
lead to the exits, or downwards to the principal chambers
excavated beneath the surface of the ground. As the ants
drive their shafts downwards into the ground, the soil
removed in the operation is not thrown away, but as it
is brought to the surface is mixed with the pine needles
and pieces of twig, helping to bind them together, and
so give greater firmness and stability to the dome-
shaped upper portion.

The chambers beneath the surface of the ground
are not all excavated at the same level, but at various
depths, so that, could we cut a perfect vertical section
which would show the interior of the nest, we should
see that the chambers were arranged on floors, rising
from the basement, floor upon floor, in just the same
manner as in a human habitation. By keeping the ants
under constant observation we are able to learn the
reason for this arrangement, and to discover how the
eggs are all stored in special chambers, and how the
larvae are all sorted out according to age and size, so
that each nursery only contains larvae of a given age

102

Ants and Termites.

and size, or is devoted to the smooth, white, oval cocoons
containing the pupae, and which are popularly though
erroneously called " ants' eggs." Again, according to
the time of day, temperature, and climatic conditions
prevailing outside the nest, so the larvaa will be found
collected in the chambers on the different floors : the
warmer the day, the nearer the roof of the dome ; the
lower the temperature, the deeper down in the sub-
terranean chambers of the nest will they be found.

As the long, hot summer afternoon draws to a close,
those ants who have been abroad all day may be seen
trooping back to the nest. Some at once disappear
within, while others stay to assist the workers who have
been adding to the outside structure of the nest. Watch-
ing closely, we shall be able to see that constructive
operations have ceased for the day, and that the busy
little insects are now engaged upon a different duty :
they are dragging the twigs and pine needles into
position in front of the openings, and thus closing
the doorways and making all snug and safe for the
night. By the time night has drawn a pall of dark-
ness over the pine woods every entrance has been
closed, and only a few solitary ants lurk under leaves
and -similar shelters, playing the part of night watch-
men, while the rest of the community are safe within
the nest.

To those ants who build their nests entirely of earth
the naturalist Hiiber applied the title of Mason Ants.
To the study of their habits and methods of building
he devoted a great deal of time and attention, and left
a very interesting and accurate description. " The
earth of which their nests are composed," wrote Hiiber,

103

How Animals Work.

" is more or less compact. That employed by ants of
a certain size, such as the black and mining ants, appears
to be less carefully chosen and forms a paste less fine
than that of which the brown, microscopic, and yellow
ants form their abode. It is, however, adapted to their
capacities, to their needs, and to the nature of the edifice
they intend to build. Thus the hillock raised by the
black ants always has thick walls formed of coarse,
lumpy earth, well-marked stories, and large chambers
with vaulted ceilings resting upon solid pillars ; we
never find roads or galleries properly so called, but
large cavities and extensive embankments of earth. We
further notice that the little architects have preserved
a certain proportion between the widely arched ceilings
and the pillars which are to support them."

Of the little brown ant, whose body only measures
one-eighth of an inch in length, Hiiber gives the follow-
ing interesting description : " This ant, one of the most
industrious of its tribe, forms its nest in stories rather
less than half an inch in height. The partitions are not
more than one-twenty-fifth of an inch in thickness, and
the substance of which they are composed is so finely
grained that the surface of the inner walls appears quite
smooth and unbroken. These stories are not hori-
zontal ; they follow the slope of the ant-hill, so that
each curves over all those which lie below it, down to
the ground floor, which communicates with the sub-
terranean lodges. They are not always, however, ar-
ranged with the same regularity, for ants do not follow
an invariable plan; it appears, on the contrary, that
nature has allowed them a certain amount of freedom
in this matter, and that they can vary their method

104

PLATE VIII.

A QUEEN TERMITE OR WHITE ANT AND AN
ORDINARY WORKER TERMITE.

Two VERY REMARKABLE PSYCHE CATERPILLAR GARMENTS.

/~ln« ie ahnnori liVo a arrmll snail's ahell. -while the IftrO-er one has a Soft dOWnV 111

Ants and Termites.

at will, according to circumstances. But however fan-
tastical their habitations may appear, we always observe
that they have been built in concentric circles. On
examining each story separately, we see a number of
carefully formed cavities or halls, lodges of narrower
dimensions, and long galleries which serve for general
communication. The arched ceilings covering the most
spacious places are supported either by little columns,
slender walls, or regular buttresses. We further notice
chambers that have but one entrance, communicating
with the lower story, and large open spaces serving
as a kind of crossing or junction in which all streets
terminate. The ant-hill contains sometimes more than
twenty stories in its upper portion, and at least as many
under the surface of the ground — an arrangement which
must enable the ants to regulate the heat to a nicety
and with the greatest ease."

Unlike the Wood Ants, which rejoice in the warm
sunlight, these smaller Mason Ants appear to shrink
from it, only coming out on to the surface of the nest
in the cool of the late afternoon and evening. Hiiber
also observed that these ants appeared greatly to appre-
ciate a moist condition of the atmosphere, and actually
to become actively engaged in building operations out-
side the nest during showery weather. " As soon as
it began to rain they left their subterranean residence
in great numbers, re-entered it almost immediately, and
then returned bearing in their jaws pellets of earth,
which they deposited on the roof of their nest. At
first I could not imagine what this was intended for, but
I soon saw little walls start up on all sides with spaces
left between them, while in several places columns

105

How Animals Work.

ranged at regular distances announced halls, lodges,
and passages which the ants proposed to construct :
it was, in short, the laying out of a new story. Each
ant, then, carried between its jaws the pellet of earth
it had formed by scraping the bottom of its dwelling
with the end of its mandibles. This little mass of
earth, being made of particles only just collected to-
gether, could readily be moulded just as the ants wished ;
and when they had put it into the position it was in-
tended for, they divided it and pressed upon it with
their jaws so as to fill up the smallest crannies of their
wall. Their antennae followed every movement, touch-
ing each pellet of earth ; and as soon as a particle had
been placed in position the whole mass was made more
compact by being lightly pressed by the forefeet. After,
tracing out the plan of their masonry by laying here
and there foundations for the pillars and partitions
they wished to erect, the insects raised them higher
by adding fresh materials. It often happened that two
little walls, which were to form a gallery, were raised
opposite one another, a little distance apart. When
they had reached a height of rather less than half an
inch, the ants busied themselves in covering in the
space left between them by a vaulted ceiling. After a
while they ceased to work upwards, as if they con-
sidered the walls high enough ; they then placed par-
ticles of moistened earth against the interior and upper
part of each wall, almost at right angles to it, thus form-
ing a ledge which would, as it extended, join that coming
from the opposite side. These ledges were about one-
twenty-fifth of an inch in thickness, and the breadth
of the galleries was usually about a quarter of an inch.

1 06

Ants and Termites.

In one part several upright partitions formed the scaf-
folding of a lodge which communicated with a number
of corridors by openings in the masonry ; in another
place there was a regularly formed hall, with numerous
pillars sustaining its vaulted ceiling. Farther on it was
possible to recognize the plan of one of those squares
of which we have spoken before, in which several avenues
terminate, and these were the most spacious parts of the
ant-hill ; yet the work of constructing a ceiling to cover
them in did not appear to cause the labourers any embar-
rassment, even though the spaces were often two inches
or more in breadth. The first foundations of such a
ceiling were laid in the angles formed by the upper part
of the different walls, and from the top of each pillar,
as from so many centres, a horizontal and slightly con-
vex layer of earth was carried forward to meet the
several portions coming from different points of the
large public thoroughfare. The parcels of moistened
earth, which are only held together by contact, seem
to require a fall of rain to cement them more closely,
and to varnish over, as it were, the ceilings they com-
pose and the walls and galleries which are not yet
covered in. Then- all unevenness of the masonry is
removed, and the upper part of the stories, composed
of so many separate parts brought together, presents
a united layer of compact earth which requires nothing
but the heat of the sun to make it perfectly solid. The
busy crowd of masons arriving from all parts with the
load of concrete they wish to add to the building, the
order they observe in their operations, the prevailing
harmony, and the eagerness with which they avail
themselves of the rain to increase the height of their

107

How Animals Work,

dwelling, present a most interesting spectacle to one
who is a lover of nature."

The forests of tropical South America abound with
numerous species of ants, many of which are extremely

Parasol Ant.

interesting in their habits and powers of construction.
During a visit to that wonderful country, and while
making a brief stay at Rio de Janeiro, I had an oppor-
tunity of watching some of the remarkable leaf-cutting

108

Ants and Termites.

or Saiiba Ants, popularly called " Parasol " Ants. These
ants^re a great pest to the planters, as they march out
of the virgin forest in countless swarms and, entering
the plantations, wreak havoc amongst the cultivated
trees, from which they will strip every vestige of foliage.
I well remember, on my informing my host of my hope
that during my short stay an opportunity might present
itself for me to see the Saiiba Ants in their native forests,
the half-sad, half-whimsical expression that passed over
his face as he assured me that on the morrow I should
watch them the whole day long if I so desired. " Alas !
Sefior, like the poor, the Saiibas are always with us.
You have told us how we may rid ourselves of the
malaria-transmitting mosquito ; would to Heaven you
could rid us of the Saiiba Ants ! " Later on I found
that mine host had indeed good reason to complain of
the depredations of these ants, which had denuded a
large number of recently planted fruit trees of their
foliage. Standing near one of the doomed trees, one
became conscious, in the silence of the noontide heat,
of a faint, snicking, rustling sound issuing from the
tree — the sound of the countless worker Saiiba Ants, all
busily engaged with their sharp, strong jaws in cutting
nearly circular fragments from the leaves. These cir-
cular pieces of leaf varied slightly in size, from about
the diameter of a threepenny piece to that of a six-
pence. As fast as the circles were cut out they were
either let fall to the ground, where they were pounced
upon and carried off to the nest, or the worker who
had cut the piece of leaf off would seize it in her jaws,
holding it upright, and at once descend the trunk of
the tree and join the ranks of her friends, each carry-

109

How Animals Work.

ing its leafy burden, returning to the nest. These
returning armies presented the most extraordinary
appearance, winding along a well-marked path leading
into the forest where the nest was situated, all hurry-
ing along, each individual carrying aloft a piece of leaf
which partly obscured the insect from view, and gave
to the mass the appearance of a hurrying green rivulet
or a green serpent.

On arriving at the nest a large proportion of the
Saiiba Ants deposited their leafy burdens, and at once
returned to the tree for more, while others might be
seen to enter the nest still grasping their burdens. An
army of ants were busily working on top of the nest,
placing the pieces of leaf in position, and covering
them with layers of grains of earth so as to form a
sort of thatch to protect the interior of the nest from
rains. But this was not the only use which the Saiibas
were making of the fresh green foliage they were cutting
from the tree. Those ants which brought their leaves
within the nest were immediately relieved of their
burdens by small worker ants, who carried the frag-
ments into special underground chambers, and then
cut them into smaller pieces, which were then care-
fully licked over, worked up into pellets of pulp, and
massed together so as to form a regular heap or bed,
destined in the course of a few days to become pene-
trated and covered with the whitish mycetial threads
of a fungus upon which the ants are said to feed. This
fungus the ants cultivate in the most skilful manner,
keeping it cle#r of mouldiness, and making it produce
a modified form of growth in the shape of small white
masses, which form the chief food of the colony. The

Ants and Termites.

Saiiba Ants are a truly wonderful race ; for they are
not only expert builders and excavators, but are equally
skilled in the knowledge of intensive culture.

The late Mr. H. W. Bates, who spent so many years
investigating the teeming insect and animal life of the
Amazons, had unique opportunities of observing the
habits of the different species of ants, and in his charm-
ing book on his wanderings and adventures he gives
many graphic descriptions of these insects. While the
Saiiba Ants would appear to be vegetarian in their
habits, the true Foraging Ants, or Ecitons, the Tauocas
of the Indians, are carnivorous ants, fearless and aggres-
sive, hunting in vast armies, exciting terror wherever
they go. While some of these Ecitons have their visual
organs fully developed, one can trace step by step*
through different species the gradual atrophy of the
eye, until both socket and eye have disappeared. It
is interesting to find that with the loss of sight these
insects take to a subterranean existence. Connecting
those Ecitons in which the organs of sight are devel-
oped with the utterly blind species " is a very stout-
limbed Eciton," writes Mr. Bates, " whose eyes are
sunk in rather deep sockets. This ant goes on for-
aging expeditions like the rest of its tribe, and attacks
even the nests of other stinging species (Myrmicd) ;
but it avoids the light, always moving in concealment
under leaves and fallen branches. When its columns
have to cross a cleared space, the ants construct a tem-
porary covered way with granules of earth, arched over,
and holding together mechanically ; under this the
procession passes in secret, the indefatigable creatures
repairing their arcade as fast as breaches are made in

How Animals Work.

it. Next in order comes the Eciton vastator, which has
no eyes, although the collapsed sockets are plainly
visible ; and lastly the Eciton erratica, in which both
sockets and eyes have disappeared, leaving only a faint
ring to mark the place where they are usually situated.

Eciton Ant.

•

The armies of Eciton vastator and Eciton erratica move,
as far as I could learn, wholly under covered roads, the
ants constructing them gradually but rapidly as they
advance. The column of foragers pushes forward step
by step, under the protection of these covered passages,
through the thickets, and on reaching a rotting log or

112

Ants and Termites.

other promising hunting-ground, pour into the crevices
in search of booty. I have traced their arcades occa-
sionally for a distance of one or two hundred yards ;
the grains of earth are taken from the soil over which
the column is passing, and are fitted together without
cement. It is this last-mentioned feature that dis-
tinguishes them from the similar covered roads made
by Termites, who use their glutinous saliva to cement
the grains together. The blind Ecitons, working in
numbers, build up simultaneously the sides of their
convex arcades, and contrive in a surprising manner
to approximate them and fit in the keystones without
letting the loose, uncemented structure fall to pieces."

Ants are not only expert miners, builders, and agri-
culturists, but some are great warriors and slave-makers.
It would not be within the scope of the present work
to go into all the curious habits of these warlike races,
for we are considering the ants as master-builders rather
than as victorious soldiers ; but no account of the
labours of these most deeply interesting insects would
be complete without some reference to their tribal wars,
and therefore the following instance of a successful raid,
as witnessed and described by Hiiber, may serve as
an example. " As I was walking in the environs of
Geneva," writes Hiiber, " between four and five in the
afternoon, I saw at my feet a legion of largish russet
ants crossing the road. They were marching in a body
with rapidity ; their troop occupied a space of from
eight to ten feet long by three or four inches wide. In
a few minutes they had entirely evacuated the road;
they penetrated through a very thick hedge, and went
into a meadow, whither I followed them. They wound

(1,910)

How Animals Work.

their way along the turf without straying, and their
column remained always continuous, in spite of the
obstacles which they had to surmount. Very soon
they arrived near a nest of ashy-black ants, the dome
of which rose among the grass at twenty paces from
the hedge. A few ants of this species were at the
door of their habitation. As soon as they descried the
army which was approaching, they threw themselves on
those which were at the head of the cohort. The alarm
spread at the same instant in the interior of the nest,
and their companions rushed out in crowds from all
the subterranean passages. The russet ants, the body
of whose army was only two paces distant, hastened
to arrive at the foot of the nest ; the whole troop pre-
cipitated itself forward at the same time, and knocked
the ashy-black ants head over heels, who, after a short
but very smart combat, retired to the extremity of the
habitation. The russet ants clambered up the sides of
the hillock, flocked to the summit, and introduced
themselves in great numbers into the first avenues.
Other groups worked with their teeth, making a lateral
aperture. In this they succeeded, and the rest of the
army penetrated through the breach into the besieged
city. They did not make a long stay there ; in three
or four minutes the russet ants came out again in haste
by the same aclits, carrying each one in its mouth a
pupa or a larva belonging to the conquered. They
again took exactly the same road by which they had
come, and followed each other in a straggling manner ;
their line was easily to be distinguished on the grass
by the appearance which this multitude of white cocoons
and larvae, carried by as many russet-coloured ants,

114

Ants and Termites.

presented. They passed through the hedge a second
time, crossed the road, and then steered their course
into a field of ripe wheat, whither, I regret to say, I
was unable to follow them."

Returning to the pillaged nest, Hiiber saw some of
its ashy-black inhabitants return to their home carrying
the few larvae they had succeeded in saving from the
clutches of their victorious foes. Later on he dis-
covered the nest in the wheatfield, and found there
many of the ashy-black ants that had been carried in
their larval and pupal stage, had completed their trans-
formations, and were living apparently on perfectly
good terms with their captors.

Greatest of all builders of covered ways are the so-
called White Ants — the Termites, to give them their
proper name — which are not related to the true ants
at all, but belong to the Neuroptera, an order of insects
under which are grouped the dragon-flies, may-flies,
lace- wings, and ant-lions. The Termites never will-
ingly expose themselves to view, and you may live
for many months in a country swarming with them,
and be perfectly familiar with the appearance of their
great nests, and yet never set eyes upon a single Termite.
They are far from pleasant-looking insects ; but their
fat, brownish-white, soft bodies are most tempting
objects to all sorts of insect-eating creatures, and that
is one good reason for their living and working beneath
the soil, out of sight of all prying, hungry eyes. Through-
out the Tropics the Termites are a great pest, for, living
almost exclusively on wood, they will tunnel upwards
from the ground into the beams and rafters of a house,
giving no external evidence of their presence, working

How Animals Work.

away until they have converted the once solid timbers
into hollow shells, and the whole structure suddenly
gives way and comes down with a crash. Nothing is
safe from their attack except iron and tin, and the speed
with which they carry on their work of destruction is
truly astonishing. But although the Termites are such a
pest in the destruction of woodwork, leather, and other
materials, they must be counted amongst Nature's
scavengers, doing valuable service in the dense African
forests by removing all dead and decaying timbers.
Nature has numerous scavengers that remove decaying
animal matter, eating it or carrying it out of sight,
burying it in the earth, where it can do no harm. And
it is the vast swarm of Termites which perform a similar
function for the plant world, devouring the tissues of
all plants and trees the moment they show the first
signs of decay.

But although the Termites in their search for dead
or decaying timber ascend to the topmost branches of
the highest trees, yet they carry out their work of ex-
ploration out of sight, and literally underground, for
they may be said to take the earth with thfem. The
extent to which the Termites indulge their tunnel-
building habit sounds incredible until one has actually
seen it for oneself, and then one becomes impressed,
not only with the magnitude of the labours of these
comparatively small, soft-bodied insects, but at the vast
amount of subsoil which they bring up to the surface
in the course of their work. In the elevated regions of
Central Africa, where the colonies of Termites seem
to reach their maximum development, the mounds or
hills built up by these insects attain to immense size,

116

Ants and Termites.

and form a characteristic feature of the landscape.
These mounds may be dotted together in groups of low
conical form, or they may rise singly, like great earth-

White Ant Hill.

towers, their bare sides worn by the action of rain and
wind into strange and fantastic channels and groovings,
measuring some thirty or forty feet in diameter, and from
eight to fifteen feet in height. The Termite is not

117

How Animals Work.

only a scavenger, but an expert builder, and incidentally
one of Nature's ploughs, turning the soil of the tropical
regions which it inhabits, not clod by clod, but grain
by grain.

Of the manner in which the Termites construct
their tunnels and covered ways Professor Henry Drum-
mond gives the following interesting description > "At
the foot of a tree the tiniest hole cautiously opens in
the ground close to the bank. A small head appears
with a grain of earth clasped in its jaws. Against the
tree trunk this earth grain is deposited, and the head
is withdrawn. Presently it reappears with another grain
of earth ; this is laid beside the first, rammed tight
against it, and again the builder descends underground
for more. The third grain is not placed against the
tree, but against the former grain. A fourth, a fifth, and
a sixth follow, and the plan of the foundation begins to
suggest itself as soon as these are in position. The
stones or grains or pellets of earth are arranged in a
semicircular wall — the Termite, now assisted by three
or four others, standing in the middle between the
sheltering wall and the tree, and working briskly with
head and mandible to strengthen the position. The
wall, in fact, forms a small moon-rampart, and as it
grows higher and higher it soon becomes evident that
it is going to grow from a low battlement into a long,
perpendicular tunnel running up the side of the tree.
The workers, safely ensconced inside, are now carrying
up the structure with great rapidity, disappearing in
turn as soon as they have laid their stone, and rushing
off to bring up another. The way in which the build-
ing is done is extremely curious, and one could watch

118

Ants and Termites.

the movement of these wonderful little masons by the
hour. Each stone as it is brought to the top is first
of all covered with mortar. Of course, without this
the whole tunnel would crumble into dust before reach-
ing the height of half an inch ; but the Termite pours
over the stone a moist, sticky secretion, turning the
grain round and round with its mandibles until the
whole is covered with slime. Then it places the stone
with great care upon the top of the wall, works it about
vigorously for a moment or two till it is well jammed
into its place, and then starts off instantly for another
load."

The great conical mounds formed by the Termites
are not mere refuse heaps, but the citadels beneath
whose walls the swarming insects live ^hd rear their
young. The interior of the mound is divided up into
numerous galleries and chambers, and many of the
galleries lead downward far into the earth, where they
communicate with other chambers, in whose excava-
tion the Termites have obtained the materials for build-
ing up the mound on top. One of the most spacious
of these subterranean chambers appears generally to be
set aside as the dwelling-place of the Queen Termite
and her husband. The Termite colony consists of a
vast number of sexually immature workers ; a lesser
number of large-headed, powerful-jawed soldiers who
take no part in building operations, but mount guard
and fight all intruders ; and a perfectly developed male,
or king, and female, or queen Termite. The perfect
young males and females have wings, and in the spring
they leave the nest in large numbers, flying up into
the air, and in most cases probably mating with indi-

119

How Animals Work.

viduals from other nests. The swarms are eagerly fol-
lowed by various insect-eating birds, so that a very
large proportion of these winged Termites perish. The
survivors, however, on coming to earth, enter the ground
and become the founders of new colonies.

The female, or queen, after impregnation, under-
goes the most extraordinary change — her body length-
ening and becoming greatly distended, until it looks
like a miniature sausage of a sickly, fleshy- white colour.
She rests quite helpless, a living bag of eggs, in the
royal chamber along with her husband, the so-called
king Termite, carefully tended by the workers, who
feed the royal couple, stuffing the queen to repletion.
As fast as the queen lays her eggs they are carried away
to the nurseries by the worker Termites, and the result-
ing larvae are fed and tended as carefully and in very
much the same fashion as exists in the nests of the
true ants. Investigations have shown that in many
Termite nests, in addition to the reigning king and
queen, wingless males and females, who never leave the
nest in which they are born, are kept, but not allowed
to pair. They appear to be held in reserve, in case
no winged royal pair should be forthcoming, or to
replace the queen in the event of her untimely death.
Such accidents do happen, and then these wingless
pairs become parents. Of the swarming inhabitants of
the Termites' nest it is, in most species, only the perfect
males and females (kings and queens) who can see, both
workers and soldiers being quite blind.

Some species of Termites are tree-dwellers, con-
structing their nests on trees at a great height, build-
ing the large rounded or oval-shaped nest amongst the

1 20

Ants and Termites.

topmost branches, eighty or ninety feet from the ground.
These immense nests are built of particles of wood
mixed with saliva from the Termite's mouth, and pos-
sibly with gummy excretions of the tree, worked up
into a sort of wood-pulp cement, which can be fashioned
into the walls and chambers of the nest. So stoutly are
they constructed, and so firmly attached to the trees,
that it is impossible to remove them without sawing
off the branches to which they are fastened. These
arboreal Termites are just as shy of exposing them-
selves as are their ground-dwelling relations, and, like
them, construct long covered ways wherever they go.
In the peculiarities of their social life, and in their
wonderful architectural powers, the Termites are most
remarkable and deeply interesting insects.

121

CHAPTER IX.

WEAVERS AND SPINNERS.

W7E are all more or less interested in the progress
VV of aviation, and inclined to be immensely flattered
by what we are pleased to term " man's conquest of
the air ; " but we have only to watch the flight of any
bird as it wings its way serenely through a gale that
would instantly wreck the most perfect man-made flying
machine to realize how much we have yet to learn
before we can hope, even approximately, to approach
that perfection of poise, stability, and automatic adjust-
ment of balance by which alone our much-vaunted
" conquest " may attain to reality. Birds in the course
of their evolution through the countless years which
separate them from their reptilian ancestors have
become so perfectly adapted in structure for flight
through the air, and we are so accustomed to the sight
of their swift and graceful progress, that we are very
apt to look upon the flight of a bird as a matter of
course, and to marvel far more at a bird that cannot
fly, like the penguin, than to give a second thought to
the wonderful achievement of one that can fly. But
although the ancestors of our feathered friends of
to-day had learned a good deal more than the first
principles of flight long before man appeared on the

122

Weavers and Spinners.

scene, they probably cannot claim to be the oldest

aeronauts.

No : the most ancient race of Nature's aeronauts

are probably the spiders,
for their fossil remains,
differing but slightly from
those of their descendants
of to-day, have been found
in the Carboniferous rocks.

Far back in the history of

the world, in that period
called by geologists the
Palaeozoic epoch, when great
tropical, swampy forests
spread over that part of
Britain where the coal-
measures of to-day exist,
spiders wove their webs
amidst the branches of gi-
gantic cycads, tree-ferns, and
reeds, and their offspring
floated out on aeronautical
adventure across the stag-
nant waters of the shallow
lagoons and swamps, their
frail gossamer air-rafts sup-
ported on the warm moist
breeze.

The habits of spiders

have probably undergone but little change since
long-distant days, and we find them a crafty,

123

those
ven-

How Animals Work.

turesome race, widely distributed in many lands and
climates, but the majority very closely agreeing in
the general outline of their habits, though varying
greatly in size, and always increasing in stature the
nearer that we approach the Tropics. But whether
we are in tropical South America in the forests of the
Amazon region, or at home in England, we shall always
find the little gossamer spiders, delighting to go off on
aeronautical expeditions, apparently without the least
regard or concern as to their ultimate destination.
Not infrequently this apparent restlessness bears them
far afield and sometimes far out to sea — sometimes, I
believe, right across the Strait of Dover; for on more
than one occasion hundreds of them have been seen
coming aboard in mid-Channel, the threads of their
silken air-rafts catching on the spars and rigging of
the cross-Channel steamers.

Darwin in the course of his voyage round the world
saw these little venturesome aeronauts come aboard
his ship on several occasions, and has given the follow-
ing interesting account of the incident : (t< On several
occasions, when the Beagle has been within the mouth
of the Plata, the rigging has been coated with the web
of the gossamer spider. One day (November i, 1832)
I paid particular attention to this subject. The weather
had been fine and clear, and in the morning the air
was full of patches of the flocculent web, as on an
autumnal day in England. The ship was sixty miles
distant from the land, in the direction of a steady though
light breeze. Vast numbers of a small spider, about
one-tenth of an inch in length and of a dusky red colour,
were attached to the webs. There must have been,

124

Weavers and Spinners.

I should suppose, some thousands on the ship. The
little spider, when first coming in contact with the
rigging, was always seated on a single thread, and not
on the flocculent mass. This latter seems merely to
be produced by the entanglement of the single threads.
The spiders were all of one species, but of both sexes,
together with young ones. These latter were distin-
guished by their smaller size and more dusky colour.
The little aeronaut as soon as it arrived on board was
very active running about, sometimes letting itself fall,
and then ] reascending the same thread ; sometimes
employing itself in making a small and very irregular
mesh in the corners between the ropes. It could
run with facility on the surface of w^ter. When dis-
turbed, it lifted up its front legs in the attitude of atten-
tion. On its first arrival it appeared very thirsty, and
with exserted maxillae drank eagerly of drops of water ;
this same circumstance has been observed by Strack :
may it not be in consequence of the little insect having
passed through a dry and rarefied atmosphere ? Its
stock of web seemed inexhaustible. While watching
some that were suspended by a single thread, I several
times observed that the slightest breath of air bore
them away out of sight, in a horizontal line. Qn another
occasion (25th), under similar circumstances, I repeat-
edly observed the same kind of small spider, either
when placed or having crawled on some little eminence,
elevate its abdomen, send forth a thread, and then sail
away horizontally, but with a rapidity which was quite
unaccountable. One day at St. F6 I had a better oppor-
tunity of observing some similar facts. A spider which
was about three-tenths of an inch in length, while stand-

125

How Animals Work.

ing on the summit of a post, darted forth four or five
threads from its spinners. These, glittering in the
sunshine, might be compared to divergent rays of light ;
they were not, however, straight, but in undulations
little films of silk blown by the wind. They were
more than a yard in length, and diverged in an ascend-
ing direction from the orifices. The spider then sud-
denly let go its hold of the post, and was quickly borne
out of sight. The day was hot and apparently quite
calm ; 'yet under such circumstances the atmosphere
can never be so tranquil as not to affect a vane so deli-
cate as the thread of a spider's web. If during a warm
day we look either at the shadow of any object cast
on a bank, or over a level plain at a distant landmark,
the effect of an ascending current of heated air is almost
always evident : such upward currents, it has been
remarked, are also shown by the ascent of soap-bubbles,
which will not rise in an indoors room. Hence I think
there is not much difficulty in understanding the ascent
of the fine lines projected from a spider's spinners,
and afterwards of the spider itself."

These aerial journeys are undertaken not purely as
pleasure trips through the air, but in order to seek
fresh hunting grounds where a greater abundance of
food may be obtained, and are also the recognized means
of dispersal of the family in Spiderland. Large families
are the rule rather than the exception among spiders,
for the mortality in their infancy is very great ; and if
the young spiderkins, which often number several hun-
dred, had not this means of dispersal far afield, the
majority would perish miserably of starvation, or, as
sometimes happens, simply form a cannibalistic feast

126

Weavers and Spinners.

for the sturdiest of the family. In fact, cannibalism is
a very general habit among spiders, so that probably
a certain proportion of every brood of spiderkins perish
in this tragic fashion.

The spiders are Nature 's most expert weavers and
spinners ; while the delicate beauty and the marvellous
skill displayed in the design and construction of their
webs and nests always excite our admiration and in-
terest. Indeed, many of the snares constructed by
spiders for the capture of their prey will be found on
closer inspection to be most perfect and complex in
their structure. I am afraid that to a large number
of people a spider offers no attractions — in fact, to them
it is just " a nasty insect." Now, as a matter of fact,
a spider is not an insect, and very often is a very hand-
some creature, while it does invaluable service to man-
kind in devouring innumerable swarms of gnats and
flies. It would be out of place here to give a long
scientific description of the spider and its exact posi-
tion in the animal kingdom, and for our present purpose
it will suffice to say that the spiders form a connecting
link between the true insects and the Crustacea, the
division of the animal kingdom to which the crabs,
lobsters, shrimps, and prawns belong.

A spider has eight legs, and is divided only into
two parts, for there is no division between the head
and shoulders ; whereas a true adult insect has only
six legs, and has the body divided into three distinct
regions — head, chest or thorax, and abdomen. Again,
an insect breathes by a network of air-tubes running
all over its body, and connected with the exterior by a
series of more or less oval pores down the sides of the

127

How Animals Work.

body, called spiracles. A spider, in addition to these
air-tubes, has generally two or four so-called " lung-
books " to help it to breathe. We never find a spider
with the great compound eyes made up of many cells
or facets which are such a characteristic of insect
anatomy, the spider being provided only with a series
of simple, single eyes, bead-like, and arranged in two
rows on the front of the head. Finally, a spider does
not pass through a well-marked series of changes or
transformations — larva, pupa, adult — as do most of the
true insects, the newly born baby spider resembling
the adult in all essential features. These are all notice-
able features of distinction by which the reader can
readily realize the difference between a spider and a
true insect.

For the production of the silk used in the build-
ing of her snare or nest the spider has on the end of
her body a series of glands, or " spinnerets " as they
are called, composed of quantities of little tubes, through
which the liquid secretion of which the silk is formed
passes out, becoming solidified into the fine silken
thread on coming in contact with the air. The spider
can use just as many of her spinnerets at a time as she
considers necessary, and therefore can vary the quality
and thickness of the thread to meet her requirements.
The feet or claws of the spider are wonderfully modified
and adapted to aid her in the work of building her web :
they are comb-like in appearance, the little combs being
deftly employed in drawing out the threads when the
weaving of the snare is in progress, or the cocoon in
which she deposits her eggs is being made. These
highly specialized claws are also used to seize and hold

128

3j!:;ii^

Weavers and Spinners.

the prey. The spider's jaws are truly formidable
weapons of offence and defence, hard, sharp, and
pointed. Moreover, they are hollow, and have a tiny
hole near the needle-pointed tip, through which the
poison from a poison gland at the base of the jaw is
poured out when the spider fixes her fangs in her victim
or foe, as the case may be. The poison is extraordinarily
rapid in its action, for within a few seconds after the
bite has been administered the captured insect, even
a large wasp or a big gad-
fly, will be found quite
dead.

One of the most strik-
ing objects to be found in
any quiet, sunny garden,
as summer begins to give
place to early autumn, is
the beautiful circular web or
snare of the female spider.
These wonderful orb webs,
or wheel webs as they are
sometimes called, are al- Spider's claw,

ways the work of some spider of the Epeiridae Family,
to which our fat, handsome Garden Spider belongs. To
watch her actually at work upon the construction of
her web is a most interesting sight. Her first care is
to lay down the foundation threads which are to form
the boundary lines of her web. If she has selected a
convenient site where she can reach the necessary
points of attachment by walking along the intervening
surfaces, then her task will not be a very difficult one.
She will spread her spinnerets and rub them against

How Animals Work.

one of the points selected for the attachment of a foun-
dation thread, and then she will walk away trailing
behind her a thread which she keeps free from entangle-
ment with objects in her path by the guiding action
of one of her hind legs. On reaching the next desirable
point of attachment, the spider makes the foundation
line taut and fixed by again rubbing her spinnerets
against the spot selected. This process is repeated
again and again, until the framework of founda-
tion lines, which may be braced in certain places by
shorter lines attached to leaves and twigs close at hand
to prevent sagging, is completed. The spider pays the
greatest attention and care to these first foundation lines,
making sure that they are strong and well secured ; for
they will have to bear the strain of the web when it
is blown by the wind, or when heavy insects fly into
it and struggle violently to escape. But Madam Spider
does not often select such a convenient site as to be
able to crawl from branch to branch with her founda-
tion thread in tow. Indeed, more often than not
there are gulfs to be bridged over that would be quite
impassable in the ordinary way. But she is in no way
disconcerted by this state of affairs, but at once has
recourse to the aid of the wind. No, she does not
weave an air-raft and float across the intervening space
upon it, but having fastened her foundation cable to
the last- suitable point of attachment, she erects her
spinnerets and flings out threads into space ; the silken
threads carried by the air currents are borne across
the gap, and soon become entangled in some neigh-
bouring object. When this has happened, the spider
at once hauls the new line taut, and tests its strength

130

Weavers and Spinners.

by gently and repeatedly pulling at it; then, having
satisfied herself that the line is secure, she proceeds
to walk across it cautiously, hand over hand, in an
inverted position, carrying with her a second line to
strengthen the first ; and she will probably make sev-
eral journeys backwards and forwards, adding extra
threads, so as to make the foundation lines thoroughly
stout and secure.

The stout foundation lines are placed in such a
way as to form an irregular four-sided figure within
which the snare will be built, and once they have been
successfully fastened in position, the rest of the work
is pretty straightforward for the spider. The founda-
tion lines completed, the spider proceeds to fix a diameter
line across her framework, from the centre of which
she constructs the spokes or radii, generally putting
these in alternately, at opposite points of the compass,
so as to maintain the stability of her work. At the
point where these radiating lines or spokes intersect
at the centre of the web, the spider carefully fastens
them together by a small flossy mass of silk, which thus
forms the central point or hub of the web. The radial
lines are constructed by walking from the centre along
one that has already been formed, the first diameter
line for instance, and fixing the thread to some new
point of the circumference. The spokes completed,
the spider surrounds the hub of the web with a few
turns of spiral thread, which serve to bind more firmly
the spokes of the wheel. The general plan of the web
is now completed, but the most important part of the
work still remains to be done ; for the lines so far laid
down by the spider are all perfectly dry, and therefore

How Animals Work.

any insect that might blunder into the web would
easily be able to free itself. So now Madam Spider
must set to work to spin a spiral of viscid thread for
the capture of her prey. First of all, however, com-
mencing close to the point where her first few spiral
turns of thread end, she proceeds rapidly to work in
a spiral thread of ordinary silk with the successive
turns about as far apart as she can conveniently straddle
her legs, to form a kind of scaffolding, by clinging
to which she can put in the viscid spiral, which she
starts at the circumference and not at the hub of the
web. Now she becomes so closely absorbed in her
work that it is quite possible to watch her movements
with the aid of a hand magnifying glass without in
any way disturbing or alarming her. Her movements
become exceedingly careful and deliberate, though. by
no means slow. With one or both of her hind legs
she now proceeds to draw out from the spinnerets suc-
cessive lengths of a highly elastic line, which she stretches
just at the moment of fixing to a spoke or radius, and
then lets go with a snap. If we look at this viscid
spiral thread with a magnifying glass, we shall see that
it is beaded over with little sticky globules, which appear
to be arranged with remarkable regularity.

Up to quite recent years it was thought that the
deposition of these sticky bead-like globules upon the
spiral line was a subsequent operation, and, in view
of their vast number and regularity, the circumstance
naturally excited much interest. It was estimated by
one authority that there were at least 120,000 viscid
globules in a fourteen-inch web, and yet the construc-
tion of this globule-bedecked spiral had only occupied

132

Weavers and Spinners.

the spider for about forty minutes. Closer investiga-
tion, however, has shown that the thread, on being
slowly drawn out, is uniformly coated with viscid
matter which afterwards arranges itself into beads, the
change being assisted by the sudden liberation of the
stretched line at the moment of its attachment to a
spoke, as already described.

The Garden Spider having thus completed her
snare, takes up her position either in the centre of
it, or in some sheltered retreat close at hand con-
nected with the hub by special telegraph lines upon
which her sensitive feet rest. For although she pos-
sesses eight bright-looking eyes, she is by no means so
sharp-sighted as one might suppose ; indeed their posi-
tion is not altogether satisfactory for seeing her prey
on the web, and it is far more by sense of touch than
by power of vision that the spider not only constructs
her wonderful web, but also becomes conscious of the
entanglement of an insect within its meshes. When
the telegraph lines beneath her feet warn ' her of the
presence of an insect in the web she immediately rushes
to the spot. If the luckless victim is small, it is at once
seized, twiddled round and round, while at the same
moment it is swathed in a silken band of thread poured
forth from the spinnerets, and then carried off to the
spider's parlour beneath the screen of some leaf at the
margin of the web, where it is devoured at leisure.
If, however, it is a large insect, and from its struggles
seems likely to offer formidable resistance, then the
captive is approached warily, and silk is thrown deftly
over it from a safe distance, until it has become so
thoroughly swathed and bound that it can be seized

133

How Animals Work.

in safety, and receive its death stab from the poisonous
jaws of the spider. Should the insect appear too power-
ful to be thus overcome, or the spider's larder already
stocked to repletion, the spider will release the intruder
by biting away the threads which entangle it, so as to
save much havoc being wrought with the web by the
violent struggles of the captive. The viscid matter on
the spiral line dries up after some hours, so the spider
has constantly to replace it with a fresh one, even if
it has not been destroyed by insects or bad weather.
The entire construction of a new web, as we have seen,
is a very troublesome business, and so the Garden
Spider takes as much care of her web as possible, and
spends a great deal of time in patching it up by biting
away torn and ragged portions and weaving new lines
in their place.

One of the largest North American orb -weaving
spiders, popularly called the Basket Argiope, builds a
handsome web, somewhat like the web of our Garden
Spider, but with a shield-shaped sheet of silk fastened
to the spokes or radii in the centre of the snare, while
below the shield there is a broad, zigzag ribbon of silk
stretched between two consecutive spokes. The Basket
Argiope is said to construct her snare in very much the
same fashion as our British Garden Spider, the shield
and zigzag bands being formed after the general struc-
ture has been completed. In order to make these
additions to her snare, the Argiope opens her spin-
nerets to their fullest extent, and draws out a regular
stream of fine flossy silk, which is first of all woven
over the centre of the snare so as to unite the spokes
or radii and to strengthen that part of the snare ; then

134

Weavers and Spinners.

when this is accomplished she places the winding zigzag
band in position between two central spokes of the
web. The snare completed, the spider takes up her
station, head downwards, upon the central shield, in
which position she is ready to drop from her snare
should danger threaten, or to rush upon any unfortu-
nate insect blundering into her web. The zigzag ribbon
is not merely ornamental, but serves to strengthen the
snare and probably provide a reserve supply of silk,
should an emergency arise calling for an instant supply
beyond the powers of the spider's spinnerets. There is
a Mauritian spider which constructs a snare with zigzag
bands similar to those of the Basket Argiope, and uses
them as a reserve supply of silk for enveloping partly
entangled insects whose struggles are too vigorous to
succumb to the rather scanty supply of thread emitted
from its spinnerets at the time of capture. By this
means this spider has been seen to overcome a grass-
hopper much more powerful than itself— by dexter-
ously throwing, with the aid of its hind leg, portions of
the zigzag ribbon of silk over its writhing, violently
kicking victim.

In Texas there lives a most remarkable spider which
first constructs a horizontal orb web, and then pro-
ceeds to convert it into a perfectly formed dome. The
spider accomplishes this by attaching threads to various
points on the upper surface of the horizontal wheel, the
central portion of which is gradually pulled up until
the height of the dome is nearly equal to the diameter
of its base. The snare, however, does not consist of
this alone ; for when that has been completed, the spider
forms a perfect sheet of irregular lines beneath it, while

135

How Animals Work.

above it she weaves a maze of threads in a pyramidal
form. The whole snare is a most wonderful piece of
work, and probably one of the most complex built by
the orb-weaving spiders.

There is a little orb -weaver that may be found in most
gardens and outhouses, which leaves a sector of its web

Dome-shaped Snare.

open and entirely free from viscid threads. Through
the centre of this sector a telegraph line is carried,
connecting the little hub or centre of the snare with
the spider's hiding-place at the edge of the web. This
shelter is a more or less tubular silk-lined tent woven
in a corner among irregular outer lines of the snare.

136

Weavers and Spinners.

In this snug retreat the little spider sits patiently head
downwards, with her sensitive foot upon the telegraph
line, awaiting the signal of the approach of prey ; for
directly an insect touches and becomes entangled in
any part of the snare, its presence is at once communi-
cated to the spider by the vibrations along the tele-
graph line.

A remarkably clever snare is constructed by the
little Triangle or Snap-net Spider, which is rare in
England, but quite common in the pine woods of some
parts of North America. The little Triangle Spider
begins her work by laying down a strong foundation
line, and from this she stretches four long sector lines,
which meet in a point, and so form a triangle. These
four threads she then proceeds to connect by a number
of short lines, which, however, are not covered with
sticky bands like the orb web of the Garden Spider,
but are fluffed out by means of a number of short
spines on the spider's hind leg. To the point of
her triangular snare the spider now fastens a stout
thread, with the other end fixed securely to some object,
such as a twig, that is at a conveniently short distance
away ; and in this line the spider now takes up her
position, upside down, and clinging to the cord with
all her eight legs, hauls in the slack of it until the
triangular web is stretched quite tight, the loosely
coiled slack of the thread resting between her front and
hind legs. Directly the trembling movement of this
line tells the spider that some insect has struck her
net, she instantly lets go the slack with her forelegs,
and the web springs back, entangling the unfortunate
insect in its fluffy meshes. Should an unusually large

137

How Animals Work,

Snare constructed by the Triangle Spider.

and vigorous insect be caught, and struggle violently,
the little spider will spring her trap two or three times

138

Weavers and Spinners.

in quick succession, hauling in the line and letting it
go as fast as she can, so as thoroughly to entangle her
prey.

The Sheet-weaving Spiders weave their snares so
closely that when first finished they look like sheets of
finest woven muslin. To this family belong the hairy
long-legged spiders which weave the familiar cobwebs
in the corners and on the ceilings of rooms, and pro-
duce the great dusty festoons to be seen in cellars and
outhouses. These snares are woven of the finest silk,
and take a long time in their construction. First the
spider stretches a few delicate foundation lines across
the corner of the wall she has selected for the site of
her snare, and upon these lines she walks to and fro
incessantly, strewing the finest silken threads from her
spinnerets upon the foundation lines. So fine is her
spinning that some hours elapse before she is able to
weave even a moderately stout web ; but when once
the sheet has been formed the spider devotes a great
deal of her spare time to going over it, adding more
and more silk from day to day, and in this way gradu-
ally thickening it. At one corner of her sheet snare the
spider weaves a silken tubular nest, in which she awaits
the advent of any insect which may alight upon her
snare, when she immediately dashes out and pounces
upon it. At first these sheet webs are beautiful objects ;
but dust and other particles floating in the air settle
on them, and soon convert them into unsightly, grubby
cobwebs.

A very remarkable weaver is the little Water Spider,
which, though strictly an air-breather, spends almost
the whole of its life beneath the surface of the ponds

139

How Animals Work.

and shallow, slow-moving streams which it frequents.
That it can live this aquatic life is due to the fact that
the long hairs with which its abdomen is densely clothed
retain an air bubble when it plunges beneath the water,
so that the spider carries its own supply of air to the
depths below. Running over the surface of the float-
ing leaves, the Water Spider does not attract one's atten-
tion particularly, for she looks just a sooty brown, rather
compactly built spider ; but the moment she dives
beneath the surface her whole appearance changes, and
her body looks as if it had suddenly been converted
into a globule of quicksilver. At some distance below
the surface the Water Spider forms her nest. Her
operations are difficult to follow at first, for even in
an aquarium, where she will make herself quite as
much at home as if she were in her favourite pond, the
threads she spins are so fine that it is only when the
light strikes upon them at a certain angle that they
become visible. Consequently, did we not know what
business she is engaged upon as she travels from branch
to branch of water weed and back again, we might
easily think that she was simply wandering about in a
rather feckless sort of way. This is not the case, how-
ever, for the spider is really laying down the foundation
lines and guide ropes of her nest. Working diligently,
she weaves with finest silk a perfect little domed nest,
about the size and rather the shape of a large thimble.
Her weaving satisfactorily accomplished, the spider next
proceeds to bring down a supply of air to fill the nest.
Up she mounts in the water, and, raising her abdomen
above the surface of the water for an instant, jerks it
down again quickly, so as to carry with it a bubble of

140

Weavers and Spinners.

air entangled in the dense hairs which cover her body
With this she descends to the nest, which she enters,
and there proceeds, with the aid of the combs on her
feet, to comb out the bubble of air which rises into
the dome of the nest. . Again and again this process is
repeated, until at last the nest is completely filled with
air, and has been converted into a snug, dry chamber —
a perfect diving-bell, in fact — in which the spider lives,
and in which she will sleep through most of the winter.
That much-abused spider the Tarantula is not only
an expert in the art of weaving, but is also a very capable
engineer, excavating a cylindrical burrow in the earth,
often more than a foot long, and about one inch in
diameter, lined with silk throughout its entire length.
At about four or five inches below the surface the per-
pendicular tube is bent horizontally, and, according to
the observations of Dufour, it is at this angle that the
Tarantula watches for the approach of enemies or prey.
According to the same authority, the external orifice
ot the burrow of the Tarantula is ordinarily surmounted
by a separately constructed tube, which is a wonderfully
perfect piece of architecture, rising to about an inch
above the surface of the ground, and sometimes attain-
ing a diameter of two inches, in which case its aperture
is greater than that of the burrow itself. This exterior
tube is principally composed of fragments of wood
fastened together with clayey earth, and so artistically
disposed one above the other that they form a scaffolding
having the shape of an upright column, of which the
interior is a hollow cylinder. Although all the Taran-
tulas form a silken-lined tunnel or shaft in which to
dwell, they do not always take the trouble to construct

141

How Animals Work.

the elaborate outer tube. Whether this is due to lack
of suitable materials or to laziness on the part of the
individual spider it is hard to say. The Tarantula is
a near relation to the Trap-door Spiders, and as these
appear to display considerable individuality in the con-
struction of their nests, it may be due to individual
idiosyncrasy that some of the Tarantula nests lack the
outer elaborate tube.

The true Trap-door Spiders are of especial interest,
for the homes which they construct for themselves dis-
play a wonderful amount of skill and ingenuity. These
spiders inhabit tropical and sub-tropical countries, and
appear to have a wide geographical distribution, being
found in Europe along the shores of the Mediterranean,
in Africa, India, Australia, Central South America, and
the West Indies. Largely nocturnal in their habits,
and their nests so wonderfully hidden as to easily escape
the most trained eyes, comparatively little is known
about the general life and habits of these intensely
interesting creatures, and it is highly probable that,
owing to their retiring habits, they have escaped the
observation of travellers in many countries, and there-
fore may be far more numerous than is generally sup-
posed. They have, however, in the person of Mr.
J. T. Moggridge, found an able biographer, who devoted
many years of an invalid life to the study of their habits,
and, indeed, laid the foundation of our present know-
ledge of their methods of nest-building and general ways
of life. The progress of natural science affords many
instances of brave and patient men and women who
have sought and found mental relief and distraction
from their bodily sufferings by the close observation

142

Weavers and Spinners.

of the wonders of Nature ; and their labours, carried on
under such adverse conditions, have often been rewarded
by discoveries which have proved of incalculable service
to the advancement of our knowledge of those subjects
to which they have devoted their attention. One of
the noblest examples is, I think, to be found in the
life of the great Charles Darwin, whose greatest and
most fruitful labours may be said to have been carried
out under conditions of health almost intolerable — con-
ditions that would have quickly converted most people
into peevish, self-absorbed, useless members of society ;
yet through all the long years of bodily suffering he
devoted every possible moment to those epoch-making
scientific investigations that made his name famous
throughout the world.

The nest of the Trap-door Spider, even in its simplest
form, is a wonderful piece of workmanship, requiring a
considerable amount of patience, skill, and ingenuity in
its construction. According to Mr. Moggridge, four
types of trap-door nest, properly so called, may be
distinguished. All the four types of nest consist of a
tube excavated in the earth to a greater or less depth,
in every case lined with silk, this lining being continuous
with the lining of the door or doors of which it forms
the hinge. Two of the types of nest are almost exactly
alike, except in the construction of the trap-door, which
in one consists of a thin, circular or oval sheet of silk,
which flaps down loosely over the tube entrance —
called the wafer door ; while in the other the door is
much thicker, made of layers of earth and silk, and so
contrived that it tightly closes the mouth of the tube,
which is bevelled to receive it much as a cork closes

How Animals Work.

the neck of a bottle. This type is called the " single-
door" cork nest. In forming the wafer type of door
the spider covers the entrance to the nest with a closely
woven sheet of silk, which she afterwards bites away
round the edge, except at the point where the hinge
is to be. The cork type of door is much more com-
plex. First the spider weaves a covering of silk, as in
the construction of the wafer door; then she brings
earth in her jaws and lays it on top, binding it down
with a second layer of silk, and this process she repeats
until the requisite thickness is obtained. The third
type of nest, again, is a single descending silk-lined
shaft ; but it has two doors, one of the wafer type at the
top, level with the surface of the ground, the second
door being at a little distance down the tube. The
fourth type of nest is the most complex of all, for the
spider constructs in this instance a Y-shaped burrow,
one arm of which, however, does not always reach to
the surface ; and the second door of this nest, instead of
being across the descending shaft at a little distance
from the surface, hangs at the fork of the Y in such a
manner as to connect the bottom chamber either with
the entrance or the blind-ended branch. To the outer
surface of the door covering the top of the nest the
spiders attach leaves, moss, or small twigs, which most
effectually hide the entrance. The Trap-door Spiders
appear to be greatly attached to their nests, which they
enlarge and repair when needful ; and they begin bur-
rowing very early in life, building miniature tubes,
which in all respects exactly resemble those of their
parents.

The cork-door nest is the simplest form, and its

144

PLATE X.

NESTS OF AN AUSTRALIAN TRAP-DOOR SPIDER.

This spider constructs a " cork "-shaped door to its nest.

A TRAP-DOOR SPIDER'S NEST, WITH "WAFER" TYPE OF DOOR.

Weavers and Spinners.

chief claim to our admiration rests in the wonderful
perfection of workmanship which the door generally
exhibits, and the complete concealment which it affords
when closed. Indeed, this type of door generally fits
so tightly, owing to the accurate adjustment of its sloping
sides to the bevelled rim of the nest, that it affords a
certain amount of resistance to opening from above, even
when the inhabitant of the nest is absent from home.
When within its nest, some species of Trap-door Spider
will endeavour to keep the door closed should any at-
tempt be made to open it — offering the most determined
resistance. Of the manner in which the spider holds
on to her door to prevent its being opened, Mr. Mogg-
ridge gives the following interesting account : — " No
sooner had I gently touched the door with the point of
a penknife than it was drawn slowly downwards, with
a movement which reminded me of the tightening of
a limpet on a sea-rock ; so that the crown, which at first
projected a little way above, finally lay a little below
the surface of the soil. I then contrived to raise the
door very gradually, despite the strenuous efforts of
the occupant, till at length I was just able to see into
the nest, and to distinguish the spider holding on to
the door with all her might, lying back downwards, with
her fangs and all her claws driven into the silk lining
of the under surface of the door. The body of the
spider was placed across, and filled up the tube, the
head being away from the hinge, and she obtained an
additional purchase in this way by blocking up the
entrance." The excavation of the shaft is no light
^indertaking ; for the spider is not very active in her
movements, and the digging has to be done chiefly

How Animals Work.

with her jaws (for she has not been observed to use
her feet or legs for the purpose). Therefore the earth
is dug out in little fragments, every morsel as it is dis-
lodged being carried to some distance from the nest.
As the shaft gradually deepens, the spider ceases from
her digging operations from time to time, to shore up
the walls with patches of silk, and so prevents their
sudden collapse, or caving in upon her. Once the
chamber has been completed, the spider covers the
walls with several dense layers of silk.

Describing the double-doored nests, Mr. Moggridge
states that these " have a thin and wafer-like door at
the mouth of the nest, and from two to four inches
lower down a second and solid underground door.
These lower doors are characteristic of the nests to
which they belong — that of the branched nest being
long and more or less tongue-shaped, while that of
the unbranched double-door nest is somewhat horse-
shoe shaped. In the branched double-door nests the
upper door does not fit into, but merely lies upon, the
mouth of the tube, the elasticity of the hinge and its
own weight being sufficient to keep it closed. The lower
door is suspended by a hinge placed at the apex of
the angle formed by the bifurcation of the tube, and
is hung in such a manner that it can either be pushed
upwards so as to lie diagonally across and block the
main tube, or be drawn back so as to fit into and close
the entrance to the branch. When the lower door is
drawn back so as to close and conceal the entrance to
the branch, it lies in the same plane, and closely corre-
sponds in curvature with the lining of the main tube,
and almost appears to form part of it. What, it may

146

Weavers and Spinners.

be asked, is the use of the branch ? I do not think
that we can draw any safe conclusion from what takes
place when we dig out a spider as to what would occur
if she were besieged by one of her natural enemies,
such as ichneumons, sand-wasps, or centipedes. Let us
suppose, however, that one of these creatures has found
its way into the nest, and is crawling down the tube.
What will happen ? Why, in the first place, the spider
will slam the second door in the face of the intruder,
and then, if worsted in the pushing match which follows,
quickly draw this door back again and run up into
the safety branch, when the enemy, after descending
precipitately to the bottom of the main tube, will look
in vain for the spider, as it searches on its way up for
the secret passage now closed by its trap-door."

In the unbranched double-door nest the thin and
wafer-like surface door appears to be constructed by
the Trap-door Spider to serve principally for conceal-
ment, while the lower one is for resistance. This lower
door is made out of earth encased in strong white silk,
and has at the end opposite the hinge a sort of silken
flap, by which the door when firmly jammed into the
tube on the approach of an enemy may be pulled
down again as soon as the danger is over. But of all
these nests, the cork, type, as Mr. Moggridge calls it,
is the cosmopolitan form, which ranges round the world,
and, strange to say, is built by many different spiders
belonging to distinct genera. In fact, " this very per-
fect bit of mechanism appears to be the common in-
heritance of these several spiders, separated though
they are by wide intervals of geographical space as well
as of structural divergence. "

How Animals Work.

While most of the Trap-door Spiders appear to be
nocturnal in their habits, there are exceptions to the
rule. Thus one inhabiting the island of Formosa, in the
China Seas, is habitually to be seen outside its nest
during the daytime, and is said to attract attention by
" staring " at any one who may approach, and then
hurrying off to its nest and closing the door after its
entry. A black Trap-door Spider, which is very com-
mon about Parramatta, near Sydney, in Australia, is
also to be seen constantly abroad during the daytime.

The following is an account of the nocturnal habits
of a Trap -door Spider which inhabits the island of
Tinos in the Grecian Archipelago. It was observed by
M. Erber, and shows the remarkable cunning displayed
by these creatures. " On my return journey from
Rhodes I stayed for a fortnight in the island of Tinos,
and among other things I captured several specimens
of the so-called Trap-door Spider, and with much
trouble procured an entire tube and trap-door. I dug
out several of these tubes, but failed to find either the
remains of food or excrement. So there was nothing
for it but to devote a couple of nights to watch these
creatures. With this view I selected a place where
many spiders had excavated their tunnels, and availed
myself of a moonlight night for my observations.
Shortly after nine o'clock the doors opened and the
spiders came out, fastened back the trap-doors by means
of threads to neighbouring blades of grass or little
stones, then spun a snare about six inches long by half
an inch high, and afterwards returned quietly to their
holes. I had so chosen my position that I could see
three of these spiders at the same time. I now cap-

Weavers and Spinners.

tured a specimen and put it into spirits, and in a short
time saw entangled in the nest of one of the remaining
spiders a Pimelia, and of the other a Cephalostenus,
both rather hard-lived night-flying beetles, which
were seized by the spiders, and the latter, after sucking
out the juices, carried the empty bodies to a distance
of several feet from their holes. All these events
happened in about three hours, after which time I
allowed the two spiders to remain undisturbed, and
returned to the house. Early next morning I revisited
the spot, and then perceived that these two spiders had
entirely removed the net which they made the preceding
night ; but the entrance to the nest of the spider which
I had captured still remained open, and I could clearly
trace me shape of its snare on which the heavy morn-
ing's dew lay. The upper threads were isolated, but
the snare became thicker as it approached the ground.
I found that these snares had, strange to relate, been
gathered up by the two other spiders, fastened on to
the door, and smoothly spun over ; and on making a
vertical section of the doors, which were nearly a quar-
ter of an inch thick, I discovered that they were com-
posed of several layers." The young spiders, which
hatch from the eggs deposited by the female in her
nest, are soon turned out by their mother into the world
to fend for themselves ; which they seem fully capable
of doing, for they at once proceed to excavate miniature
shafts, line them with silk, and cap them with perfect
trap-doors, so that they are when finished identical in
all details with the home of their parent.

Many spiders display great skill in the weaving of
the cocoons in which they place their eggs. While some

149

How Animals Work.

spiders just weave a loose, fluffy mass of silk, without
any particular shape, others will be found to take the
greatest pains and trouble to weave their cocoons into
all sorts of graceful shapes, and in some cases trim
them with pieces of leaves and grass, and other materials ;

these extraneous ob-
jects being attached
to the cocoon, not
so much for its
adornment, but the
better to hide it
from the eyes of
foes. This is par-
ticularly well de-
monstrated in the
case of the little
so-called " Fairy-
lamp " or " Mason "
Spider, which
weaves a most de-
lightful little casket
of glistening white
silk that looks for
all the world like a
fairy Japanese lan-
tern as it swings on

Cocoon of Basket Spider. some slender ^

or heather stem. But no sooner is this charming piece
of weaving accomplished than the spider sets to work
ruthlessly to destroy its striking beauty by daubing it
all over with mud. Up and down the stem of the
plant to which she has attached her cocoon the little

Weavers and Spinners.

spider travels with tireless energy, patiently carrying
up pellet after pellet of damp mud, and plastering them
on all over the cocoon. With the aid of her palps and
forefeet she carefully smooths and presses the earth
pellets into position, turning herself about from time
to time to wind a
few threads round
the earthy mass, the
better to secure it
and prevent its be-
ing washed away by
the rain. When her
task is finished, no
part of the glisten-
ing cocoon remains
visible ; it has, in
fact, been converted,
to all appearance,
into a little lump
of dried mud.

There is a hand-
some relation of
our large Garden
Spider which, from
the bands of yel-
low, black, and silver
encircling her ample body, is known as the Banded
Spider, and is the weaver of a particularly beautiful
cocoon. In shape, the cocoon is something like a tiny
balloon, suspended upside down, and about the size
of a pigeon's egg. Its outer covering is formed of glis-
tening white silk, so closely woven as to resemble the

Cocoon of Banded Spider.

How Animals Work.

softest satin, ornamented at its upper end with silken
bands of black and brown in the form of a wavy pattern.
Inside it has a bed of soft reddish-brown silk all puffed
out into a fluffy mass, in the midst of which, safe and
warm, repose the spider's precious eggs. Quite a
thick wad of white silk is woven by the spider to fill
the neck of this elaborate cocoon, which is finished off
with a dainty scalloped edge. Another spider weaves
a cocoon resembling a cup in shape, to which a thick
lid is fitted, the whole being slung amidst the stems
of grasses and wild plants, which have been drawn
closer around the cocoon by a network of silken threads
so as to provide additional protection. The cocoon
encloses a mass of soft silk which enshrouds the egg-
pad composed of loosely woven silk. Caudata, the
little tailed spider, does not trust her cocoon to the
swaying stems of branches, nor does she believe in
placing " all her eggs in one basket." She cuts out the
spirals from the upper section of her orb web, and in
this space weaves a series of bead-like cocoons? from
three to eight in number, each about the size of a pea,
formed of fairly dense yellowish silk, and each con-
taining a number of eggs. Ultimately the cocoons
become more or less decorated with the remains of
beetles and flies, mother spider in this way utilizing
the uneatable fragments of her victims as a screen
to further protect her cocoons. ^ Another spider, called
Reparium, constructs a silken tent about one and a
half to two inches in length and some half an inch in
diameter, the exterior of which she covers with pellets
of earth, bits of grass, withered leaves, or any similar
plant debris that may be at hand, and which will serve

152

Weavers and Spinners.

to effectively hide the golden treasure of her egg-cocoons
which are slung within the tent. The Wolf, or Hunt-
ing Spiders, which do not construct elaborate snares,
weave oval or round silken cocoons to contain their eggs,
and either carry them about attached by a silken thread
to their body, or hide them away in nooks and crannies
under the bark of trees or in the rocks, or cracks in the
brickwork of outhouses.

Many caterpillars are expert weavers, spinning lovely
silken cocoons in which to pass the pupa stage of their
transformations, or silken webs to screen them from
view. Thus the little caterpillars of the Lackey Moth
as soon as they escape from the eggs unite into com-
panies and envelop themselves in a silken web, which
covers the leaves and branches in their neighbour-
hood ; and beneath this common shelter they remain
until they have considerably increased in size, when
the little party breaks up and the individual caterpillars
spread over the trees. The caterpillars of the Pro-
cessionary Moth, which is fairly common in some
parts of France, collect in families which may con-
tain hundreds of members. They form an irregular
web, in which they remain during the daytime, issuing
forth at eventide to feed. Such a common web or
nest may cover a considerable part of the trunk of a
tree ; and it consists of several layers of silken web,
one over the other, but very intimately woven together,
its weaving having been accomplished by the united
labours of the caterpillars. These caterpillars have
gained their popular name from their mode of prog-
ress when going forth to feed. During the daytime
they remain closely packed together beneath the shelter

153

How Animals Work.

of their silken nest, hardly showing any movement ;
but as soon as the sun has set they awaken and begin
to stir. A single caterpillar is then seen to issue from
the nest and begin to ascend or descend the trunk of
the tree ; immediately it is followed by a second and a
third ; then comes a rank three or four abreast, which
is followed by one of many more, the ranks going on
increasing in their numbers pretty regularly at first,
but becoming confused as the main host leaves the nest.
After feasting on the foliage of the tree, the same order
is taken up, one caterpillar which is apparently indis-
tinguishable in appearance from his fellows invariably
leading the array, and the host marches back to its
nest. Should the caterpillars, however, have had to
march a considerable distance from the original nest in
their search for food, they may elect to camp on or in
the vicinity of their newly discovered feeding ground,
in which case all hands, or rather mouths, set to work,
and a new silken cover is woven.

But the Silkworm, the caterpillar of the Silk Moth,
is the most important of all insect weavers, for its silk
has been used by mankind for many, many centuries.
Indeed, the Silkworm and the cotton plant have
played very important parts in the social and com-
mercial progress of mankind; they have helped for-
ward the march of civilization, strengthened the bonds
of friendship between nations, and to-day give employ-
ment to many thousands of people. The discovery
of the value to man of the silk used by the Silkworm
in the construction of its cocoon is lost in the mists
of time, but the Chinese are generally supposed to
have been the discoverers of its value and the first

154

Weavers and Spinners.

to utilize it. One of the stories connected with the
discovery relates that the Emperor Hoang-ti, who lived
2,600 years B.C., desiring that his wife, the beautiful
Si-ling-chi,B should contribute to the happiness of his
people, charged her to devote herself to the study of
the Silkworm, and to try to find a way by which its
threads might be utilized. To this end Si-ling-chi
caused a great quantity of these insects to be collected,
which she fed herself in a place especially set aside
for the purpose. And to such good purpose did she
prosecute her studies, that she not only discovered the
means of rearing the Silkworms in captivity, but also
the manner of winding off the silk from the cocoons
and using it in the manufacture of fabrics.

Another writer states that "up to the time of this
queen, when the country was only lately cleared and
brought into cultivation, the people employed the
skins of animals as clothes. But these skins were no
longer sufficient for the multitude of the inhabitants ;
necessity made them industrious ; they applied them-
selves to the manufacture of cloth wherewith to cover
themselves. But it was to this princess that they owed
the useful invention of silk stuffs. Afterwards the
empresses named by Chinese authors, according to
the order of their dynasties, found an agreeable occu-
pation in superintending the hatching, rearing, and
feeding of Silkworms, in making silk, and working k
up when made. There was an enclosure attached
to the palace for the cultivation of mulberry trees.
The empress, accompanied by queens and the greatest
ladies of the court, went in state into this enclosure,
and gathered with her own hand the leaves of three

155

How Animals Work.

branches which her ladies-in-waiting had lowered until
they were within her reach. The finest pieces of silk
which she made herself, or which were made by her
orders and under her own eye, were destined for the
ceremony of the grand sacrifice offered to Chang-si. " *

Many and wise were the laws enforced by the em-
perors of each succeeding dynasty for the cultivation
of the mulberry trees and the rearing of Silkworms ;
while for many centuries it was forbidden, under pain
of death, to export from China the eggs of the Silk
Moth, or to give any information as to the art of obtain-
ing the silk ; only the manufactured article could be sold
outside the empire. Legend has it that the first eggs
of the Silk Moth were brought from China to Constan-
tinople by two monks of the order of St. Basil during
the life of the Emperor Justinian, and that they were
brought from the Far East concealed in the hollow
pilgrim staffs of the two adventurers. Certain it is
that the Emperor Justinian caused to be established
at Constantinople silk manufactures in which skilled
Asiatics, who were forbidden to disclose their know-
ledge to strangers, were employed. In Southern Greece
the industry quickly assumed immense importance, and
for many centuries Constantinople and Greece supplied
the whole of Europe with Silkworms.

What of this master spinner of insect life, whose
silken thread gives employment to thousands, and has
also helped many to amass large fortunes ? It is not
an alluring-looking insect in its general appearance :
many of its silk-spinning relations wear far brighter
liveries, and are adorned with spots of colour, blue as
* Duhalde, Description de la Chine.

156

Weavers and Spinners.

sapphires, green as emeralds, red as rubies; yet none
of them produce threads of such purity, brightness,
and fineness as the humble Silkworm, dressed like a
workman in a dirty white blouse, although many of
them make a far larger cocoon. Most of us as children
have kept Silkworms, so that we are more or less familiar
with their dingy white colour and general appearance ;
with their beautiful golden cocoons, and pretty, soft,
docile little moths that come forth from those silken
chambers. The weaving of that silken cocoon is
really a very wonderful performance. From the time
the Silkworm emerges from the egg until it is fully
grown and ready to begin the weaving of its cocoon,
it has done nothing but eat from morning to night,
save for brief intervals when it has had to pause to cast
its skin — five times in all; and has hardly moved,
save to crawl over the mulberry leaf to a fresh position.
Now, however, having attained to its full size, it be-
comes restless, wandering away from the leaves, and
continually raising its head and moving it from side to
side, seeking a suitable spot to which it may cling during
the process of weaving its cocoon. Having found a
position to its liking, the Silkworm now sets to work
to accomplish its task. At first it throws out on all
sides some rough fluffy silk called " refuse silk," and
destined for fixing the cocoon. The foundations, so
to speak, having been thus laid down, the Silkworm
proceeds to unwind its long silken thread, bending it
backwards and forwards to the several points of attach-
ment, and gradually enclosing itself in a silken cell.
For some time it is possible to see the shadow of the
Silkworm through the veil of silk, as it ceaselessly

157

How Animals Work.

moves its head backwards and forwards, a veritable
living shuttle weaving a golden canopy, until at last
the walls of the cocoon grow so thick that it is quite
hidden from sight. For four days does this inde-
fatigable weaver labour at the spinning of its cocoon,
and by the time it is finished it has been calculated
that the Silkworm has moved its head backwards and
forwards three thousand times, and unwound a thread
about one thousand metres in length. The labour
expended upon the construction of the cocoon, and the
amount of material secreted by the silk-producing
organs of the caterpillar, seem truly prodigious when
we consider the comparatively small size of the insect ;
indeed, it has been estimated that forty thousand cocoons
would suffice to surround the earth at the Equator
with a single silken thread.

Though the Silkworm is the greatest weaver of
them all, there are many caterpillars that display con-
siderable ingenuity in the construction of their cocoons,
using various building materials in addition to their
silk secretion. The caterpillar of the Sycamore Moth
(Acronycta aceris), which is covered with tufts of yellow
hair, first spins an outer wall of pure silk to its cocoon,
and when this is thick enough, proceeds to tear out its
hair, according to Reaumur, in the following manner, to
form a lining : — " Its two jaws are the pincers the
caterpillar uses in seizing a portion of one or other of
the tufts of hair ; and when it has seized it, it tears it
out without much difficulty. It at once places this
against the tissue it has already commenced, in which
it entangles it at first simply by pressure ; it fixes it
then more securely by spinning over it. It does not

158

Weavers and Spinners.

leave off tearing out its hairs until it has entirely
stripped them off. When the caterpillar has taken
between its jaws and torn out a whole tuft of hair, the
head carries it and deposits it on some part of the lower
surface of the cocoon ; but it does not leave the hairs
of such a large parcel together. The next moment
one sees its head moving about very quickly; then,
taking a portion of the hairs from the little heap, it
distributes them about on the neighbouring parts of
the cocoon. If one opens one of these shells before
the caterpillar has become a chrysalis, the larva, which
is quite naked, and which was only known by its hair,
can be no longer recognized."

The larva of the Tiger Moth, that hairy caterpillar
which children call the " Woolly Bear," also makes use
of its hairs for strengthening the tissues of its cocoon,
but does not heroically pluck them out, Reaumur stat-
ing that it cuts them off. The operations of those
caterpillars which excavate a chamber beneath the sur-
face of the soil in which to pupate, often lining it with
a thick tapestry of silk or weaving grains of earth into
the silken cocoon, are very difficult to observe. Reaumur,
in the course of his numerous experiments and re-
searches, was enabled to witness the reconstruction of
part of the walls of the earth and silk cocoon formed
by the caterpillar of the Mullein Moth by taking one
from the ground, partially tearing it open, and placing
it in a glass vessel containing some earth. The cater-
pillar at once started to repair its damaged cocoon, and
began by coming almost entirely out. It moved its
head forwards as far as was necessary to enable it to
seize a particle of earth. As soon as it had got its load

159

How Animals Work.

it re-entered the interior of the cocoon. It deposited
the grain of earth, and came out again immediately
to pick up another grain, which it carried likewise
into the interior of the cocoon. This operation was
continued for more than an hour, by which time the
caterpillar had collected quite an appreciable quantity
of earth particles within its cocoon. It then began
spinning over one part of the edges of the opening,
and after it had woven a loose band of silken threads
the caterpillar's head disappeared from view for a
moment, only to return holding a pellet of earth in its
jaws, which it promptly entangled in the threads. Gradu-
ally working round the edge of the torn gap in its cocoon,
alternately spinning threads and entangling pellets of
earth, the caterpillar rendered the diameter of the open-
ing smaller and smaller. When the opening was at last
reduced to a circle of only a few lines in diameter, the
caterpillar drew threads from one point of the circum-
ference to another on the opposite side, thus covering
the aperture with a rather open network. As soon as
this web was finished the caterpillar placed a grain of
earth against it, and by pushing and pressing it, made
it pass through the web until it reached the exterior,
and so in succession more grains were brought and
forced into position, until the whole of the silken web
was hidden from view.

There is an interesting group of caterpillars the
members of which are quite wise in the art of dress-
making, and which are sometimes called " Basket
Worms." To protect their soft bodies, these little
caterpillars dress themselves up in garments made of
leaves, blades of grass, small twigs, or even little stones

160

Weavers and Spinners.

woven together with silky threads ; while one weaves
of silk alone a structure that is exactly like a small snail
shell in appearance ; in fact, the first specimens sent
to the British Museum were sent as being snail shells
to be found in great numbers near Lake Issyk-Kul,
in Central Asia. One of these caterpillars with the aid
of its jaws cuts little pieces of
wood, each piece of the proper
length, and these are all woven
together lengthwise into a won-
derful spiral garment. Another
may be found wandering over
heaths and grass-lands dressed
in a garment made entirely of
very accurately cut pieces of leaf.
The caterpillar takes a great deal
of trouble in making this odd-
looking garment, fastening the
leaves most neatly together, and
arranging them in rows one
above the other like a series of
little flounces; while to the top
of this costume it adds a spiky
collar of tiny wood chips, or of
blades of grass. One dress has
to last the little insect through- Cases of the Basket Worm.

out the caterpillar stage of its life, and so it must needs
from time to time enlarge it. This is done by making
a slit part of the way down one side of the dress, and
fastening into the gap a fresh piece of material made
up of silk and vegetable matter woven together. These
caterpillars belong to the Psyche family, and have a very

(1,910) !l L

How Animals Work.

wide distribution, being found in tropical countries as
well as in Europe and Great Britain.

The caterpillars of the familiar Clothes Moth (Tinea)
are all more or less expert dressmakers, and unfor-
tunately, while busily engaged in making garments for
themselves, they are at the same time ruining ours.
The caterpillar of the Wool Moth, directly it escapes
from the egg, sets to work with its jaws to snip off
the tiny shreds of the material on which it is resting,
and weaves these together into a beautiful, warm,
tubular coat, which is enlarged by additions of mate-
rial from time to time as growth makes necessary. The
caterpillar of the Fur Moth does even more damage;
for not only does it bite off the hairs to weave into a
garment, but, the coat finished, it will wander about
over the skin, making paths for itself in the fur by
biting away every hair that comes within its reach.

162

CHAPTER X.

MINERS, DIGGERS, AND CARPENTERS.

FOR countless generations the more primitive races
of mankind have dug pitfalls for the capture of
their prey. Yet, ages before the first human hunter
had thought of this method of snaring the larger and
fiercer beasts of the wild that were more than a match
for his strength or primitive weapons, a small insect
had become a past master in the art of digging pitfalls
for the capture of its prey, and has handed on its craft
through the ages down to its descendants of to-day.
This insect digger of pitfalls is not a particularly intelli-
gent-looking creature. It has a soft, roundish, oblong
body covered with warty excrescences and hairs, and
comparatively weak legs ; but the stout, flat head is
armed with a pair of formidable jaws. This is the
famous Ant-lion, and a glance at the illustration
(Plate VI.) will show you that at this, the larval stage
of the insect's life, it is no beauty. It is fairly common
in the south of Europe, frequenting sandy, open places
where there is plenty of sunshine, and living at the
bottom of the funnel-shaped pitfall which it excavates
in the sand.

The labour of digging out the pit is really consider-
able. First of all, crawling backwards with rather a

How Animals Work.

jerky motion, the Ant-lion traces in the sand a circular
trench, which may vary from one to three inches in
diameter, and marks the edge of the snare. Having
completed this, the insect proceeds laboriously to dig
out the space thus marked to the required depth. This
is accomplished by moving round and round within the
circle, always backwards and in a descending spiral.
In this circular progression the action of the feet brings
the sand on to the surface of the flat, shovel-like head,
and then by a sharp jerk of the head the grains of sand
are thrown beyond the boundary of the pit. So active
is the larva that a constant shower of sand issues from
the pit during the process of its excavation. This toil-
some task accomplished, the Ant-lion lies snugly in wait
at the bottom of the pitfall, its ungainly body hidden
beneath the sand, and only the top of the head or tips
of the jaws showing. Nor has it generally very long
to wait for its prey. An inquisitive ant or small beetle
prying incautiously on the treacherous brink of the pit-
fall where there is no firm foothold, slips, and, strug-
gling to regain its foothold, sends down a miniature
avalanche of sand. Instantly the quiescent Ant-lion
becomes extremely active, and with its shovel-head
jerks up sand as fast as it can, aiming it at the unfortu-
nate ant and generally bringing it tumbling head over
heels down to the bottom of the pit. Once arrived at
the bottom, there is no chance of escape, for the cruel,
hungry jaws of the Ant-lion sink into the body of its
victim, which is soon sucked dry. The banquet over,
the Ant-lion with a jerk of the head flings the empty
skin of its prey out of the pitfall, and once more takes
up its position to await another arrival. This larval

164

Miners, Diggers, and Carpenters.

stage is said to last some considerable time ; but at
last the Ant-lion begins to weave a rough cocoon, using
a good deal of sand mixed with the silk, as it has not
an abundant secretion of the latter. In this cocoon the
final transformations take place, and the adult, perfect
insect escapes from it, not as a weak-legged, bloated-
bodied creature, but as a graceful, slender-bodied,
gauzy-winged insect, very much resembling a dragon-
fly in appearance, save that the horns or antennae on
its head are clubbed at the tip. There are several
species of Ant-lion, and they are to be found in tropical
and subtropical countries, and it is interesting to note
that they do not all dig pitfalls, some being content to
merely hide their soft, ungainly bodies in the sand
and to rush out upon their prey.

The larva of the Tiger Beetle also digs a pitfall,
which serves the double purpose of trap and dwelling.
It is by no means beautiful at this stage of its life, and
one would never guess from its appearance that in
the perfect state it was destined to be one of the hand-
somest of our British beetles. It has a long, fat, pale
body, with two little processes like blunt hooks on its
back, a hard, flat head, and a pair of formidable, sickle-
shaped jaws. Its soft body is quite defenceless, while
its six spiny legs are very short and of little use for
running about, either in search of prey or to escape
from foes ; so the Tiger larva must needs hide its body
from the view of many hungry foes who would devour it
the moment they set eyes on its plump shape, and await
in concealment the approach of prey. It is, therefore,
for this double purpose that the larva digs a shaft to live
in, where it may lurk in safety, and lure its unsuspect-

165

How Animals Work.

ing victims within reach of its sickle-shaped jaws. With
its stumpy legs and large, flat head, it sets to work
digging and scraping, heaving the loose earth out of
the excavation with its head, which makes a first-rate
shovel, until a little tunnel is scooped out, descending
vertically at first, and then continued in a horizontal
direction. When at last the task of excavating this
shaft is completed, the larva mounts to the top of the
tunnel, where it rests with its flat head filling the mouth
of its den like a trap-door. It is able to rest in this
curious position quite comfortably with the aid of its
short legs and the two blunt, hooklike processes on its
back. Sooner or later some small insect draws close to
the entrance of the tunnel, or may even incautiously
run on to the large, flat head that fits the opening like
a lid. Instantly the head of the Tiger larva goes up
with a sudden jerk, and the victim is caught in the
strong, curved jaws, dragged below with lightning
rapidity, and devoured.

A very expert miner is the Mole Cricket, an insect
that is not very often seen in England, but which is
all too common in some of the vineyards and highly
cultivated lands of France, where it is called the
Courtiliere (Plate VII.). The Mole Cricket is readily
distinguished from all other insects by the structure
of its front legs, which are very stout, and terminate
in a broad, somewhat flattened expansion so deeply
notched as to look like an exaggerated replica of the
front paw of the mole. The body is large, more or
less cylindrical in shape, and bluntly tapers at either
end, the greatest width, as in the mole, being across
what we may term the shoulders — -that is, immediately

166

Miners, Diggers, and Carpenters.

behind the first pair of legs. The wings are broad,
and fold back like a fan, and when expanded are of
fairly large size, to permit of lifting the heavy body
from the ground. On warm summer evenings the Mole
Cricket will sometimes unfurl its wings and indulge in
short circular flights, but it does not seem to make as
much use of its wings as their size might lead one to
expect. Specimens which I had under observation for
some time, although allowed plenty of liberty, being
placed in a large glass case, never attempted to fly out,
but seemed perfectly content to tunnel in the soil, and
sometimes to come out in the evening to lick the mois-
ture from the blades of grass which had been sprinkled
with water. Only once, when they had been placed
in a large, shallow tray, with hardly sufficient earth to
cover them, so that I could watch the action of their
front legs in digging, did one suddenly take flight ;
but as it only flew a few yards away, and then, alight-
ing on a flower-bed, began to burrow, it was quickly
recaptured.

The insect first drives a vertical shaft down from
the surface, kicking out the material which accumulates
at the side of this entrance hole. It is wonderful to
see with what strength and rapidity the Mole Cricket
works, digging away with its powerful front legs, which
are so admirably adapted for this work, and with its
strong jaws biting through any fibrous roots that may
impede its progress. Once the descending shaft has
been completed, the Mole Cricket then proceeds to
scoop out at its base an oval chamber or living-room.
Then numerous horizontal galleries, more or less in-
clined, and all communicating with the central shaft,

How Animals Work.

are excavated, and from time to time extended in the
search for food, which seems to consist chiefly of vege-
table matter, though the Mole Cricket is said to be
at least partially carnivorous in its habits, devouring
any soft-bodied insects or worms that may come in its
way. This, however, is a point which I think needs
careful reinvestigation, for the unhealthy appearance of
any crop growing on land infested by the Mole Cricket
seems to point rather to a vegetarian than a carnivorous
diet, and I do not think that the mere tunnelling would
produce this appearance. In the spring-time of the
year " a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts
of love," and, apparently, so does that of the male Mole
Cricket, for on mild April evenings he may be surprised,
seated at the entrance to his burrow, singing his slow,
vibrant, and monotonous love song, that, oft-repeated,
sounds something like the call of the goat-sucker. The
female appears to form a special chamber in stiffish, dry
soil in which to lay her eggs, which are said to number
from two hundred to three hundred. The young emerge
about the end of a month from the date of the eggs being
deposited, and somewhat closely resemble their parents
in appearance, save that no wings are present. Accord-
ing to Monsieur Feburier, three years are required for
the complete development of the Mole Cricket, which
indicates remarkable longevity in these interesting in-
sects.

Let us now have a look at the Common Mole, which
is one of the most expert miners in the animal kingdom.
Cordially detested by farmers on account of the hillocks
with which it covers their fields and pastures, yet the
" little gentleman in velvet " does them many a good

168

Miners, Diggers, and Carpenters.

turn by devouring vast quantities of wire-worms, leather-
jackets, and other noxious, root-devouring insects; and
as it is apparently strictly carnivorous in its diet, it prob-
ably does far more good than is generally imagined.

Although a very expert miner, in the light of recent
careful investigation it would appear that the Mole does
not excavate the extraordinarily complicated home be-
neath the surface of its hillock with which it has been
credited by many writers in the past. According to
Mr. Lionel E. Adams, who recently communicated to
the Memoirs of the Manchester Literary and Philosophical
Society the result of his investigations, carried on over
a period of four years, on the Mole and its fortress, not
one of three hundred hillocks examined by him cor-
responded with that ancient and remarkable drawing
of the interior of a molehill that has done duty as an
illustration in countless popular works.

The Mole sinks a short shaft below the surface of
the ground, at the bottom of which it excavates a more
or less globular-shaped chamber, pushing the earth out
through the top of the shaft, so that it gradually accumu-
lates in a mound. " When," states Mr. Adams, " this
superincumbent earth has reached an inconvenient
height another tunnel is made, sometimes from another
part of the nest cavity, but more often sideways from
the first upward tunnel. All this takes time, and the
Mole meanwhile makes fresh runs from the fortress,
the seat of its labours, in various directions in search of
food. Much of the earth displaced in making these
fresh runs falls into the nest cavity, and has to be dis-
posed of in the same way as before. Now the tunnel
(or tunnels) leading upwards from the nest cavity

169

How Animals Work.

becomes longer and longer, winding round under the
surface of the growing fortress. The tunnels in the
fortress are for two distinct purposes : (a) tunnels to
eject earth from the nest cavity and bolt run — these are
generally in the shape of a corkscrew ascending from
the nest, and often diverging into blind terminals ; (b)
tunnels not connected directly with the nest cavity, but
traversing the fortress from runs outside it. Through
these tunnels the Mole has brought the earth to heap
over the nest, and they seldom occur except in boggy
land, where the nest is of necessity near the surface of
the ground, or even in the centre of the piled-up mound.
The nest cavity is roughly spherical, about the size of
a large cottage loaf, and quite smooth from constant
friction and use. The nest, which completely fills the
nest cavity, is a ball of grass or leaves, or a mixture of
both. I have found a nest made entirely of dead beech
leaves, others entirely of dead oak leaves ; and when
it is remembered that this material must all be brought
in by the mouth, the amount of labour Required can
be appreciated. When the nest is taken out bodily, it
has to be unwound (if made of grass) to find the centre.
There is never a hole apparent; and not only is the
nest always found closed when the young are within,
but in all cases, even when old and long deserted.
When dry grass is not obtainable, fresh green grass is
used, which soon withers and gets dry with the heat
of the Mole's body. When a nest containing young is
found, it is invariably infested with fleas and mites.
Nearly every fortress has a bolt run, by which the
Mole can escape when surprised in the nest. This
run leads downwards from the bottom of the nest, and

170

Miners, Diggers, and Carpenters.

then turns upward and out of the fortress by a tunnel
of its own, and is very rarely connected with any of
the other numerous exits of the fortress. The only
fortresses that I have seen without the bolt run have
been on marshy land, when such a tunnel would have
led to water."

The Badger is another notable miner among animals,
frequenting lonely, thickly wooded hillsides and ravines,
for it is a shy animal and loves a quiet life. Amidst
such pleasant surroundings the Badger excavates its
large and roomy underground home, which may have
as many as six or eight exits, while the main passage
often branches towards its inner extremity. As a rule,
only one, or at most two, of these numerous 'tunnels
are used regularly as a means of communication with
the outer world, the others being constructed and
reserved as emergency outlets by means of which the
Badgers can make their escape should danger arise.
These additional tunnels also act as ventilating shafts
to the great living-room; for the Badger is the most
hygienic animal, and keeps its home beautifully clean.
It is a powerfully built animal, and has strong fore-
paws with stout claws and toes admirably adapted
for digging, which enable the animal to burrow down
into the earth with the most astonishing rapidity. Both
front and hind limbs are used in the work of excavation,
and dig away with powerful and vigorous strokes. In
driving a new tunnel into the earth the Badger is
able at first by vigorous kicks of the hind legs to
fling the soil backwards out of the entrance ; but as it
digs deeper and deeper this becomes impossible, and
another method has to be adopted. Every now and

171

How Animals Work.

then the Badger stops in his forward and downward
progress to work backwards towards the entrance,
sweeping out the accumulation of loose earth with his
hind legs as he goes — a simple matter for the Badger,
who seems to be able to progress backwards with almost
as much ease as forwards. The tunnels are often very
extensive and twenty or thirty feet long, their openings
above ground being a great distance apart, enabling
the Badger to quietly slip away unobserved should
danger arise. During the daytime the Badger rests
and sleeps peacefully on a clean, thick bed of dry fern
within his subterranean but airy chamber, only emerging
at nightfall to go in quest of food, which consists chiefly
of roots, fruits, snails, worms, and possibly an occa-
sional young rabbit. Normally a harmless, inoffensive
animal, the Badger, when provoked or righting for its
life, becomes a most formidable antagonist, for its sharp
teeth not only bite severely, but the jaws lock together
by a peculiar structure of their junction with the skull,
so that the Badger is able to hold on with a vicelike
grip. Once plentiful throughout England and Scot-
land, the Badger has now become comparatively rare,
so that only those people who are true lovers of the
country, who delight to wander in quiet woodlands
and to lie out under the stars at night, may hope now
and again to get a glimpse of this most interesting
animal.

A small and very expert miner inhabiting Central
and North America is the Pouched Rat or Pocket-
gopher. It is a quaint little brownish-gray rodent
with a rather short, thick tail, and remarkably strong
feet, the front paws being armed with long, curved

172

Miners, Diggers, and Carpenters.

claws. But the distinctive feature, and the one from
which the little animal takes its two popular names,
is the possession of a pair of large, fur-lined pouches
which open outside the cheeks and are literally used
as pockets. The Pocket-gopher digs out long tunnels
at about a foot below the surface of the ground, in its
search for the tender roots of plants, which 'form its
chief food supply. The little animal abounds on the
extensive plains of the Mississippi region, where it often
does considerable damage. Its favourite nesting site
would appear to be deep down in the ground beneath
some large tree ; here it sinks a deep, winding passage
which opens into the large living-chamber some four
or five feet below the surface. This living-room is
usually carpeted with a bed of soft grasses, while, when
it is doing double duty as living-room and nursery, the
bed of grasses is mixed with a quantity of fur which the
mother Gopher tears from her coat, just as our female
wild rabbits do, to make a softer and warmer couch
for her offspring. From one side of the main living-
room a second passage generally leads to another chamber
which serves as a storeroom, and here the Pocket-
gopher stores up quantities of roots, nuts, pieces of
potato, and other vegetable supplies.

Dr. Merriam, who has made a special study of the
habits of this curious and interesting animal, states
that in the process of digging its tunnel the Pocket-
gopher uses its strong and long upper teeth as a pick
to loosen the earth, while " at the same time the fore-
feet are kept in active operation, both in digging and
in pressing the earth back under the body, and the
hind feet are also used in moving it still farther back-

How Animals Work,

wards. When a sufficient quantity has accumulated be-
hind the animal, he immediately turns in the burrow,
and by bringing the wrists together under the chin, with
the palms of the hands held vertically, forces himself
along by the hind feet, pushing the earth out in front.
When an opening in the tunnel is reached, the earth
is discharged through it, forming a little hillock."

Like the Badger, the Pocket-gopher can run back-
wards with almost as much speed and ease as it can
progress forwards, and Dr. Merriam states that " this
method of progression was particularly noticeable when
the animal was in his own quarters, where he could
follow a runway or an accustomed route. When carry-
ing food to one of his storehouses he rarely turned
round, but usually ran backwards to the place of deposit,
returning for more, and repeating the operation again
and again, the to-and-fro movement suggesting a shuttle
on its track."

The same authority gives the following interesting
account of the manner in which the Pocket-gopher
feeds and fills its remarkable cheek pouches : " After
satisfying the immediate demands of hunger, it was
his practice to fill one or both cheek pouches. His
motions were so swift that it was exceedingly difficult to
follow them with sufficient* exactness to see just how
the operation was performed. If a potato was given
him, or a piece too large to go into the pouch, he
invariably grasped it between the forepaws and pro-
ceeded to pry off a small piece with the large lower
incisors. He would then raise himself slightly on his
hind legs and hold the fragment between his fore-
paws while eating — for he usually ate "a certain quan-

'74

Miners, Diggers, and Carpenters.

tity Before putting any into the pouches. As a rule
one pouch is filled at a time, though not always, and
the hand of the same side was used to push the food
in. The usual course is as follows : A piece of potato,
root, or other food is seized between the incisor teeth,
and immediately transferred to the forepaws. The
piece is then rapidly passed across the face with a sort
of wiping motion, which forces it into the open mouth
of the pouch. Sometimes a single rapid stroke with
one hand is sufficient ; at other times both hands are
used, particularly if the piece is large. In such cases
the long claws of one hand are used to draw down the
lower side of the opening, while the food is poked in
with the other. The most remarkable thing con-
nected with the use of the pouches is the way they are
emptied. The forefeet are brought back simultane-
ously along the sides of the head until they reach a point
opposite the hinder end of the pouches ; they are then
pressed firmly against the head and carried rapidly
forward. In this way the contents of the pouches
are promptly deposited in front of the animal. Some-
times several strokes are necessary. I have never seen
them emptied in any other way."

The Prairie Marmot, more often called from its
curious yelping cry the Prairie Dog, lives on the great
grassy plains or prairies of North America. It is a
most sociable creature, delighting to live in large col-
onies that may number several hundred individuals ;
and really is related to the squirrels, for, save for
its yelping cry, there is nothing doglike about it. In
some districts where it abounds, one may travel for
days together over the flat prairie land, which on all

How Animals Work.

sides is dotted about with the little mounds of earth
that mark the entrance to the Prairie Marmot's home,
placed at a distance of about six feet apart ; while
the surface of the ground between the hillocks is
marked with well-worn tracks. "The burrows are of
considerable dimensions, and penetrate to no small
depth. They are dug in a sloping direction, at an
angle of about forty-five degrees, and after descend-
ing some five or six feet take a sudden turn and
then rise gradually upwards to open into the main
chamber or living-room, which is snugly bedded with
a quantity of dry grass, and is frequently provided
with a second passage, which probably serves as a bolt
run or means of escape should occasion for a hasty exit
other than by the main entrance arise. The mound
of earth thrown up at the entrance to the main shaft
of its home is used by the Prairie Marmot as a watch-
tower, where it sits up in a semi-erect attitude on its
haunches, keeping up a more or less incessant conversa-
tion with its neighbours, and at the same time a watch-
ful eye on the surrounding country. The result is that
it is practically impossible to approach one of these
colonies unseen, and the moment you are observed a
series of shrill yelps from the watchful sentries posted
on the hillocks sends the entire population scuttling
to earth.

Though shy, the Prairie Marmot is a most inquisi-
tive little beast, so that its disappearance below
ground is rarely of lengthy duration. Hardly has one
had time to hide beneath some sheltering bush or be-
hind a bunch of reeds ere countless little heads and
bright eyes appear at the entrances to the burrows.

Miners, Diggers, and Carpenters.

First one or two of the bolder and probably elder mem-
bers of the colony cautiously come forth, sniffing the
air suspiciously, and, ascending their respective watch-
towers, sit up on their haunches and sniff and gaze
about in all directions. Satisfied that the danger is
passed, they utter a series of reassuring yelps which
quickly brings the rest of the population above ground.
And then a very pretty and social scene is witnessed,
as the sleek, jolly little animals run about, visit each
other, or gather into apparently gossiping groups. But
the Prairie Marmots are not the only inhabitants of the
colony, for the Burrowing Owl — sometimes also called
the Coquimbo Owl — and the deadly Rattlesnake take
forcible possession of their burrows, having first de-
vcured the rightful inhabitants. When the Burrowing
Owl and the Rattlesnake were first observed to frequent
the burrows of the Prairie Marmot, it was hastily sur-
mised that all lived together as a " happy family," but
closer and more accurate observation has shown that
this is not the case.

The European cousin of the Prairie Marmot, the
Alpine Marmot, is also inclined to social habits, and
is an expert miner, sinking shafts three or four feet
deep, and excavating long galleries which ultimately
lead into a large, basin-shaped dwelling chamber. Ac-
cording to one authority on Alpine life, the Marmot
frequently has a summer as well as a winter residence,
selecting for its summer abode some sunny, grassy oasis
surrounded by rocks and chasms, high up amongst
the mountains, often at ten thousand feet above the
sea level. In such pleasant retreats, comparatively safe
from the sudden approach of dangerous neighbours,

(i,9io) j M

How Animals Work.

the Alpine Marmots live together during the warm
summer months ; then with the * approach of winter
they descend to lower ground, where they dig out their
winter quarters, which are generally more spacious
than their summer residence; indeed, the living-room
is said sometimes to accommodate a family of fifteen.
Quantities of dry grass are brought in and stowed away
so as to form not only a food supply, but a deep, soft
carpet ; and is also used, mixed together with earth and
stones, for blocking up the entrances to the chamber, a
solidly constructed door being built at a distance of one
or two feet from the outer opening. And so through
the long, cold winter the Marmots lie snug and warm
within their subterranean chambers.

The Hamster, which frequents the cornfields of
the temperate regions of Europe, Asia, and America,
is, according to the writings of Brehm, the celebrated
German naturalist, a very skilful miner. It is a rela-
tion of the rats and mice, but much larger, measuring
some ten inches in length exclusive of its short tail,
which only adds about a couple more inches to its total
length. Although of rather prepossessing appearance,
the Hamster is not a jolly, amiable little creature like
the marmot, but is said to be sullen and ill-tempered.
With its strong claws it excavates a nearly perpendicular
tunnel which at some distance below the surface alters
its course, turning aside and becoming either sloping
or horizontal before opening into the fairly spacious
living-room. This chamber is excavated at a depth
of three to six feet below the surface, and furnished
with a deep, soft bed of very fine straw. Besides the
entrance tunnel, it generally has two others opening

Miners, Diggers, and Carpenters.

into it : one, reaching to the surface at a considerable
distance from the main vertical shaft, is dug out in a
sloping manner, and probably acts as a bolt run and
easier means of rapid exit ; while the third tunnel
leads to the round, oval-shaped storeroom, which is
often larger than the living-room. Young Hamsters
are said to excavate only one storeroom, while older
animals will dig out from three to five. In the autumn
both old and young Hamsters become very busy in
the fields, collecting quite considerable quantities of
grain, with which they fill their storerooms, packing
it away as tightly as possible, and sometimes even filling
the tunnels leading to the storerooms as well, and
finally carefully blocking up with earth the entrance
to their precious store that has to last them through
the long winter months. At one time it was very gener-
ally imagined that the Hamster carefully selected the
grain of his harvest, the idea originating in the fact
that some of the store chambers were found to be filled
with one kind of seed, such as linseed, oats, peas, beans,
and corn. But this is not, apparently, due to careful
sorting and selection on the part of the Hamster, but
rather to the fact that the seeds ripen at different times
of the year. Like the marmot, the Hamster with the
approach of winter closes the entrances to his snug
retreat, spending the cold, drear days of winter in sleep,
waking up again about February or March, but not
immediately coming 'above ground, preferring to live
within doors for a while, and feeding upon what is
left of the grain stored up the previous autumn.

Many of the Crab tribe are expert diggers, and
one of the most remarkable in many respects is the

179

How Animals Work.

great Birgos, or Robber Crab, which lives in a den
which it digs for itself in the earth, and is found on
islands in the Indo-Pacific seas. To talk of a great
crab which lives on land, climbs palm trees, and breaks
open cocoa-nuts, sounds as if one were verging strongly
towards the region of romance ; yet Nature is full of
such surprises, outrivalling the strangest dreams of the
imagination. The Birgos is such a crab, although its
ability to climb far up a tree seems rather doubtful ;
and of its curious habits Darwin, in his account of his
voyage round the world in the Beagle, gives the follow-
ing interesting description : "I have before alluded to
a crab which lives on the cocoa-nut ; it is very common
on all parts of the dry land, and grows to a monstrous
size ; it is closely allied or identical with the Birgos latro.
The front pair of legs terminate in very strong and heavy
pincers, and the last pair are fitted with others weaker
and much narrower. It would at first be thought
quite impossible for a crab to open a strong cocoa-
nut covered with the husk ; but Mr. Liesk assures
me that he has repeatedly seen this effected. The
crab begins by tearing the husk, fibre by fibre, and
always from that end under which the three eye-holes
are situated ; when this is completed, the crab com-
mences hammering with its heavy claws on one of the
eye-holes till an opening is made. Then turning round
its body, by the aid of its posterior and narrow pair of
pincers, it extracts the white albuminous substance.
I think this is as curious a case of instinct as ever I
heard of, and likewise of adaptation in structure between
two objects apparently so remote from each other in
the scheme of nature as a crab and a cocoa-nut tree.

1 80

Miners, Diggers, and Carpenters.

The Birgos is diurnal in its habits ; but every night it
is said to pay a visit to the sea, no doubt for the pur-
pose of moistening its branchiae. The young are like-
wise hatched, and live for some time, on the coast.
These crabs inhabit deep burrows, which they hollow
out beneath the roots of trees, and where they accu-
mulate surprising quantities of the picked fibres of the
cocoa-nut husk, on which they rest as on a bed. The
Malays sometimes take advantage of this, and collect
the fibrous mass to use as junk. These crabs are very
good to eat ; moreover, under the tail of the larger ;
ones there is a great mass of fat, which, when melted,
sometimes yields as much as a quart bottle full of limpid
oil. It has been stated by some authors that the Birgos
crawls up the cocoa-nut trees for the purpose of steal-
ing the nuts. I very much doubt the possibility of
this ; but with the Pandanus the task would be very
much easier. I was told by Mr. Liesk that on these
islands the Birgos lives only on the nuts which have
fallen to the ground. Captain Moresby informs me
that this crab inhabits the Chagos and Seychelle groups,
but not the neighbouring Maldiva Archipelago. It
formerly abounded at Mauritius, but only a few small
ones are now found there. In the Pacific, this species,
or one with closely allied habits, is said to inhabit a
single coral island north of the Society group. To
show the wonderful strength of the front pair of pincers,
I may mention that Captain Moresby confined one in
a strong tin box which had held biscuits, the lid being
secured with wire ; but the crab turned down the
edges and escaped. In turning down the edges it actu-
ally punched many small holes quite through the tin ! "

181

How Animals Work.

The Calling Crabs of tropical and subtropical sea-
shores are most comical little diggers, the male crab
presenting a most laughable appearance, for one of his
claws is developed to an immense size, and brightly
coloured, while the other is quite small. As he scuttles
over the mud flats left dry by the receding tide, the
little crab flourishes aloft his great claw in a most absurd
manner, as if he were violently beckoning you to advance,

The Calling Crab.

or challenging you to, mortal combat ; but really, he is
not particularly valiant, and scuttles off to his den in
a great hurry if alarmed. He excavates a burrow about
a foot in depth, digging away with much persistence
and vigour, and the operation is both amusing and inter-
esting to watch. The crab scrapes away with his claws
until he has collected a little heap of the moist, muddy
sand, which he then grasps with some of the legs on
one side of his body, and ambles off to a distance with

182

Miners, Diggers, and Carpenters.

his burden. Having deposited the mass, he pauses for a
moment, rolling his eyes, which are mounted on long,
slender stalks, round in the most comical fashion, and
then hurriedly returns to his digging. The exact use
of the immense claw of the male Calling Crab does
not seem to be known ; it is supposed that he stops
the mouth of his burrow with it when he and the female
are safe inside. It certainly is used to some extent in
combats with other males ; while Professor Alcock,
from observations made in the Indian Ocean, believes
that it is used for exciting the admiration of the female
in courtship, as the huge claw is bright red in colour,
and he has seen the male brandish it about before the
female, as if displaying to the fullest its florid beauty.
In the female both claws are quite small.

One of the most remarkable diggers in the animal
world is a native of that wonderful country, Australia ;
it is called the Duck-billed Platypus, or Ornithorhynchus.
At the first glance one would hardly imagine that this
curious-looking animal, with its flat, webbed feet and
broad bill, so like the feet and beak of a duck, would
be an expert digger, yet such is really the case, the
animal making burrows and tunnels of considerable
length and complexity. The broad web which extends
beyond the claws falls back, when the animal is digging,
in such a way as not to impede the operation in the
least, and materially aids the Duckbill in flinging back
the earth which its claws have scraped away. The
Duckbill is essentially an aquatic animal, always making
its home in the bank of some stream, often showing a
marked preference for those wider and quieter parts of
the river which resemble large pools. Here in the bank,

183

How Animals Work.

at a point well concealed by overhanging plants, the
Duckbill digs a long and often very winding tunnel,
which generally passes in a slightly upward direction
until it opens into the subterranean nest, which is a
somewhat oval-shaped chamber, and generally carpeted
with a plentiful supply of dry weeds and grasses. There
is a second opening in this chamber, which leads to a
tunnel that descends and has its opening well beneath
the surface of the water, so that the Duckbill, if alarmed,
can enter or leave its nest unobserved. The many
turns and twists of the upper gallery are probably not
altogether intentional, but are rather due to various
obstacles such as roots and stones, for no two burrows
ever have exactly similar curves and windings.

The graceful Sand Martin that reaches our shores
from distant Africa, a slender-winged messenger carry-
ing the promise of the coming of spring, though so
small and delicate a bird, is yet a wonderfully expert
miner, digging in an incredibly short time a shaft of
relatively considerable dimensions in the face of the
vertical sand cliffs that it always frequents. Working
away with its short, delicate bill and slender feet, the
Sand Martin scrapes away at the sand and gradually
digs out a more or less cylindrical, slightly upward-
sloping burrow, which may extend inwards for a distance
of from two to four feet. The end of this burrow is
slightly enlarged to form the nesting chamber, in which
a soft, loose nest is built of straws, lined with feathers.
The indefatigable way in which the birds labour at
their task is truly wonderful, and one would think
that their little feet and beaks would be worn to shreds
in the process. They do not generally begin their

184

Miners, Diggers, and Carpenters.

labour of excavation much before the middle of May,
yet they go at their work with such incessant and right
good will that by the end of the month the tunnel is
completed, the nest built, and in it repose four or six
beautiful, pure white eggs, with shells so thin and clear
that, when freshly laid, the ruddy yolk within shines
through, giving them an exquisite golden-pinkish hue.
The Sand Martin is essentially a sociable bird, and
generally from twenty or thirty to even a hundred pairs
will nest in close proximity to each other, so that the
vertical face of the sand cliff is quite honeycombed
with their excavations.

That glorious feathered jewel, the Kingfisher, that
Tennyson called the " sea-blue bird of March," is
another expert among birds in the art of mining. Nest-
ing generally begins about the second week in May,
though in some seasons it is much earlier. The King-
fisher generally selects for its nesting site a steep, vertical
bank by the stream side, up which none of its four-
footed carnivorous foes can scramble. Here, at a con-
venient distance above the stream, it sets to work with
its sharp, strong beak, and begins to bore a round hole
of just sufficient diameter to admit its body. Digging
slightly upwards, the Kingfisher continues tunnelling into
the bank for a distance of some two to three feet, the
gallery terminating in a smooth, roundish cavity which
forms the nesting chamber. The Kingfisher does not
seem to work quite so rapidly as the Sand Martin, so
that the work of digging the tunnel takes a propor-
tionately longer time. Should a stone be met with
during the work of excavating, it will, if possible, be
bodily removed by the bird ; but if of too great a size,

185

How Animals Work.

then the tunnel will be diverted to one side of it ; while,
should too many obstructions be found, the bird will
abandon the half -formed tunnel, and start a fresh boring
at another spot. The nest within the gallery is indeed
a strange and malodorous one, consisting of a few fish
bones sprinkled on the bare earth floor of the chamber,
which increase in number as time goes on.

The Puffin is also a true burrower, but is by no
means so anxious voluntarily to undertake the task of
excavation as are the Sand Martin and the Kingfisher ;
indeed, where possible, it will always take possession of
an already existing tunnel and adapt it to meet its
requirements. A rabbit's burrow is eagerly annexed ;
and although poor bunny may vigorously protest at this
undesirable intrusion upon her domain, she is generally
compelled to beat an ignominious retreat before the
scolding wrath and fierce onslaught of the Puffin's
powerful beak. Where, however, such easy lodgment
is not to be obtained, the Puffin makes the best of the
circumstances, and sets honestly to work on its own
account to excavate a burrow. The male bird is chiefly
occupied in the task, though he receives a certain amount
of help from his mate, and becomes quite engrossed
in his labours. With his strong bill he digs out a tunnel
about three feet in length, which is seldom straight
but takes a more or less curved form, and is generally
furnished with a second entrance. At the end of the
burrow no nest is formed, the Puffin laying its large,
whitish egg on the bare earth.

The Green Woodpecker, the Yaffle or Rain-bird — -to
give it its dear old country names — is a notorious ex-
cavator in wood, so that he really more deserves the

186

Miners, Diggers, and Carpenters.

title of carpenter than miner, although it is a dark tunnel
that he drives into the tree. His cheery, laughing cry
is a familiar sound to most lovers of our woodlands,
especially in changeable weather, and it is his ringing
call heard so constantly when rain is approaching that
has gained for him his two old country names. In
form he is wonderfully adapted to his method of life :
his beak is a veritable straight, strong pickaxe mounted
on a suitably large and lengthy head, while his legs
are set far back, so as to give ample swing to the pick-
axe, and the short, strong, spiky tail gives additional
support and grip. It is not surprising, therefore, to
find that the Woodpecker is able to drive the tunnel
leading to its nest deep into the sound heart of a tree ;
while with the greatest ease its powerful beak is able to
split and tear the dead wood and bark in the search
for the insects upon which the bird feeds. It is generally
somewhere about the middle of April that the Wood-
pecker begins to bore a hole for its nest. First a neat
round hole is drilled horizontally into the middle of the
tree trunk or limb, the opening being about two and
a half inches in diameter. This completed, the Wood-
pecker begins to drive its shaft perpendicularly down-
wards for a depth of about two feet, where it makes a
slightly enlarged chamber, and here the hen bird lays
her glossy, pure white eggs on the bare wood, no attempt
whatever being made to line the interior of the nest
chamber. Although the Woodpecker sometimes takes
advantage of rotten wood in a tree for boring its hole,
such aid is by no means necessary ; and while the bird
undoubtedly does good service in hunting out and
devouring large numbers of wood-boring insects, it

I87

How Animals Work.

nevertheless does a certain amount of harm to growing
timber, and therefore is not always looked upon with
much friendliness by the forester. Besides the Yaffle,
we have in our English woodlands two equally expert
bird carpenters — namely, the Great Spotted or Pied
Woodpecker and the Lesser Spotted Woodpecker, both
smaller than the Yaffle, and excavating similar though
smaller nesting holes in the branches of the trees. The
Great Spotted Woodpecker in the spring-time often
attracts attention by a remarkable drumming sound,
almost like the roll of a kettledrum, which it produces
with its bill on some dead branch of a tree. This
peculiar drumming performance probably is not for
the purpose of scaring insects out of the crevices in
the branch by its vibration, but rather is a form of
display on the part of the male to attract the attention
of the hen bird.

188

CHAPTER XL

SOME BIRD ARCHITECTS.

COR sagacity and skill in the selection of suitable
-1 material, and in the design and construction of
their nests, the birds stand in the very front rank of
animal craftsmanship. Although constructed as but
a temporary home for the safe-keeping of the eggs and
young, yet in its highest development the nest of a bird
is a truly wonderful piece of work — a thing to marvel at
when we remember that its graceful proportions and
perfection of construction have been attained without
the aid of any special tools or building appliances save
the slender feet and legs, the bill, and the soft breast of
the parent birds. Its building has been a labour of love,
and in its perfect completion it is the outward symbol
of that absolute and passionate parental devotion that is
sp highly developed among birds. They are such joyous,
beautiful little architects, going about their work so
blithely, and later, when the nest is full of hungry fledg-
lings, doing such invaluable service to mankind in hunt-
ing down innumerable plant-destroying insects which
form the staple diet of their nestlings, that they deserve
all the care and protection we can possibly give to them.
Yet thousands of innocent birds are killed by farmers
and agriculturists, the very people who most benefit by

189

How Animals Work.

their services in holding in check the insects that would
otherwise devour their crops, but who are too steeped
in self-satisfied ignorance and tradition either to take
the trouble to observe accurately and dispassionately for
themselves, or to give honest credence to the advice or
warnings of those who have studied the habits of their
victims ; while the so-called amateur " sportsman " too
often seems to consider " sport " as standing for the
slaying of every bird that crosses his path. Women, too,
help in this senseless slaughter, and are responsible for
the fast-approaching extinction of many beautiful birds.
The present ruthless and wanton slaughter of birds for
the bedecking of women's hats and garments is a dis-
graceful, a shameful, and revolting trade — one which,
if left unchecked, will eventually bring disaster to many
countries, by removing the natural balance of bird
and insect life, so that the latter will increase in such
numbers as to become a serious menace to all agri-
cultural labour, and may even cause the total destruc-
tion of our food crops. It is a danger which has got
to be faced, squarely and honestly, and is one which no
half-hearted legislation can avert.

Have you ever considered the nest of a bird in its
full significance, not merely as a jumble of twigs and
moss and hair brought haphazard together, for that is a
false idea altogether, but in its true light — as a perfect
piece of workmanship wrought with loving care and
labour ? If you have once given it a moment's serious
thought, I am sure you , could not have helped being
impressed by its beauty and ingenuity, and perhaps
wished that you might learn more of the ways of
these feathered architects, and, best of all, that they

190

Some Bird Architects.

might be sheltered from harm and permitted to carry
out their innocent, useful labours in peace. Ruskin has
left us a delightful account of the wonder and admira-
tion with which he was filled on being shown a par-
ticularly beautiful nest. " The other day," he writes,
" I was calling on the ornithologist whose collection of
birds is, I suppose, altogether unrivalled in Europe (at
once a monument of unwearied love of science, and an
example, in its treatment, of the most delicate and patient
art) — Mr. Gould. He showed me the nest of a common
English bird — a nest which, notwithstanding his know-
ledge of the dexterous building of birds in all the world,
was not without interest even to him, and was altogether
amazing and delightful to me. It was a Bullfinch's
nest, which had been set in the fork of a sapling tree,
where it needed an extended foundation. And the bird
had built this first story of her nest with withered
stalks of clematis blossom, and with nothing else. These
twigs it had interwoven lightly, leaving the branched
heads all at the outside, producing an intricate Gothic
boss of extreme grace and quaintness, apparently ar-
ranged both with triumphal pleasure in the art of basket-
making, and with definite purpose of ornamental form.
I fear there is no occasion to tell you that the bird had
no purpose of the kind. I say I fear this, because I
would much rather have to undeceive you in attributing
too much intellect to the lower animals than too little.
The bird has exactly the degree of emotion, the extent
of science, and the command of art which are necessary
for its happiness ; it had felt the clematis twigs to be
lighter and tougher than any others within its reach,
and probably found the forked branches of them con-

191

How Animals Work.

venient for reticulation. It had naturally placed these
outside, because it wanted a smooth surface for the
bottom of its nest ; and the beauty of the result was
much more dependent on the blossoms than the bird.
Nevertheless, I am sure that if you had seen the nest
— much more, if you had stood beside the architect
at work upon it — you would have greatly desired to
express your admiration to her." One cannot help
feeling that, had Ruskin been able to spend more
time in the observation of the many treasures of
bird architecture which Mr. Gould's collection con-
tained, and could have been converted from his
bitter antagonism to the truth of evolution, he might
have given to the world a Seven Lamps of Bird
Architecture.

There is such a wealth of material to select from
that it becomes very difficult to decide which examples
of bird architecture shall be chosen as most effective
for the present necessarily brief description of bird
craftsmanship. I am a great believer in the importance
of, if possible, seeing and proving things for yourself;
therefore I shall devote the space at my command to
a description of some of our familiar British nests, and
a few of those tropical nests examples of which are
generally to be seen in any good museum collection.
Let us take as our first example the nest of the Song
Thrush, which may be found in almost any quiet orchard
or country hedgerow (Plate XII.). Indeed, if we had
the good fortune to spend our childhood days in the
country, it is probably the first nest with which we
became familiar. It is quite early in the year that the
Throstle begins to search for a nesting site, and it is no

192

PLATE XII.

THE NEST OF THE SONG THRUSH.

The Song Thrush is not only an expert weaver, but a clever mason, for she lines
her nest with cement.

Some Bird Architects.

uncommon occurrence in sheltered shrubberies to find
both nest and eggs by the end of February. Although
the bird will build its nest almost anywhere in bushes,
trees, and hedgerows, it nevertheless devotes some time
to the selection of the site, and I have seen on occasion
bitter fights take place between rivals for a coveted
spot. Once the position has been settled the build-
ing is commenced, and is carried forward with won-
derful precision, skill, and rapidity. All day long the
work goes on, the patient little architect bringing moss
and slender twigs, dry grasses, and similar material,
which is skilfully woven into the familiar ample cup-
shaped nest, and reinforced with an ample supply of
mud well worked into the foundations. Then comes
the lining of the nest, which shows the Thrush not
only as a skilful weaver, but as an expert plasterer and
mason ; for the bird now makes a cement composed of
an admixture of mud, rotten wood, and cow dung in
varying proportions, and with this coats the whole of
the interior of the nest, the walls of which become
converted into a perfectly smooth, damp-proof, cup-
shaped receptacle for the safe housing of the precious
eggs. Sad to say, this expert masonry on the part of
the parent Thrush sometimes leads to disaster, an un-
usually prolonged downpour of heavy rain filling the
nest and drowning the nestlings.

The art of nest-building is an acquired habit, and
the evolution from the simplest form to the most com-
plex type of construction can be traced step by step
in the selection of site, materials, and shape of the
completed nest. " That the earliest birds were arboreal
in their habits there can be little room for doubt, and

How Animals Work.

we may assume that they brooded their eggs in the holes
of trees or in the stumps of decaying tree-ferns, or amid
the crowns of evergreen oaks and similar trees, which
had, with the appearance of the first bird — Archaeopteryx
— already come into existence. With the gradual spread
of the race some became denizens of the open country,
and these would probably at first have deposited their
eggs on the bare ground without making any special
preparations for their safety or protection. Two new
selective factors would now come into operation — one
tending to eliminate all eggs which were not protectively
coloured, and the other all such as suffered from con-
tact with cold or moist earth. It is not difficult to
imagine that, sooner or later, more or fewer of the birds
nesting in such sites would hit upon the plan of collect-
ing bits of grass and sticks or small stones into a small
heap whereon to lay their eggs, prompted not so much
by any conscious desire to protect the eggs from injury
as to keep warm and dry when sitting where the ground
was damp. Only those birds which had sufficient
intelligence to adopt this expedient would rear off-
spring, and this offspring would probably inherit the
same instinct. Thus were the first nests built. The
habit of building a nest once fixed, wherever the eggs
were laid some receptacle would be first constructed,
and thus the way was prepared for those birds which,
to avoid enemies, took to laying their eggs amid the
branches of shrubs and trees. The possibility that the
earliest nesting sites were holes in trees receives some
little support from the fact that many birds still retain
this habit, and lay white eggs. As the primitive arbo-
real bird left the forest regions, some sought the dark

194

Some Bird Architects.

recesses of caves or the deserted burrows of other
animals." * *

The primitive type of nest first built amidst the
branches of the trees was probably a mere rough collec-
tion of twigs more or less loosely woven together, and
because it suffices its intended purpose we find it still
the typical nest of many birds, such as the Pigeons,
whose nest is the merest latticework of twigs, the Crows,
and the Herons. The Hawfinch and the Bullfinch have
carried the art a step further, for they have added to
the loosely arranged platform of twigs an inner neatly
woven cup of fine hair and slender rootlets. From
such crude beginnings we can trace the advancement of
the craft in a series of infinite gradations in the gradual
refinement of selection of building materials and work
of construction and design. Our Thrush's nest, for
instance, represents one of the earlier phases, where
mud, in addition to grasses and rootlets, has been
employed, and probably gave origin to the ultimate
exclusive use of mud as building material for the nest,
as is the habit with some birds ; while, on the other
hand, we can trace the abandonment of the admixture of
mud, and the rejection of twigs and all coarser materials,
until we arrive at cup or dome shaped structures woven
of only the very finest hair, wool, and rootlets.

The little Stonechat we may take as our first ex-
ample of a bird not using any mud in the construction
of its nest. It is a bird that haunts open heaths and
commons, where furze bushes and a plentiful growth
of heather luxuriate. Here, about the middle of March
or a little later, according to the climatic conditions of
* W. P. Pycraft, A History of Birds.
'95

How Animals 'Work.

the season, the Stonechat begins to build its nest, choos-
ing a well-concealed site amidst thick heather or dense
furze, on or very close to the ground. Only the softest
dry grass and moss are collected and rather loosely
woven together to form the nest, and generally a little
rabbit's fur is added as a soft lining on which the precious
eggs are laid. It is rather a frail little nest, but is very
dainty in its workmanship. The Meadow Pipit or
Titlark's nest is often built among tall grass tussocks
and heather, very often where there is a slight hollow
in the ground, and is composed entirely of dry grasses,
the finest being used for lining. The hen bird has a
little trick of suddenly rising from the grass and half
flying, half fluttering for a few yards and then sinking
down, only to rise again at your approach to flutter a
few yards farther. It is a clever device on her part to
attract your attention, and to draw you away from her
precious nest and eggs. More elaborate in its con-
struction is the nest of the Goldfinch. In this case the
nesting site is generally from six to even twenty feet
above the ground, in a small fork among the outer
boughs or twigs of some large tree, or resting upon a
broad thick branch ; but sometimes the bird will elect
to build in a thorn bush or tall hedge, or even in the
midst of a growth of ivy covering a tree trunk. It is
about the beginning or middle of May that the Gold-
finch starts its building operations. Moss, wool, hair,
cobwebs, and similar soft materials are collected to-
gether, and with these a most beautifully compact, nest
is built.

The Chaffinch is a most artistic nest-builder. About
the end of March the little architect begins to seek a

196

Some Bird Architects.

favourable nesting site, about which it does not seem
to be very particular, for it will build in almost any
situation — in a hedge, among the branches of old mossy
apple trees, in a bramble patch, the tall laurels of a quiet
shrubbery, or under the sheltering growth of an ivy-
mantled wall. But no matter the situation ; an enormous
amount of skill and loving care is bestowed upon the
construction of the nest, which is a most perfect piece
of bird architecture in its completion. Green moss,
gray down, soft wool, cobwebs, hair, and feathers go
to its making ; the whole being woven into a close,
compact, and shapely cup of uniform texture and sin-
gular beauty. Nor does this always complete the
labours of the little feathered architect, for if they are
available in sufficient quantity, the Chaffinch will almost
invariably bedeck the whole of the outside of its nest
with gray and various coloured lichens. It is a most
beautiful and decorative piece of work, and when, as is
often the case, the nest has been built in the fork of
an old moss and lichen covered apple tree, this outer
dressing of lichens helps to a wonderful degree to further
conceal the nest. But I am afraid we cannot safely
credit the little Chaffinch with a really deliberate or
definite attempt at imitations of the surroundings of
the nest, for the bird will often do exactly the same
thing when it has built its nest in the middle of a furze
bush or a thorn hedge, with the result that the nest is
made more conspicuous.

I think that quite the most beautiful and remark-
able nest built by any British bird is the large, oval,
lichen-covered nest of the Long-tailed Tit. Though
the extreme length of its tail gives it an advantage in

197

How Animals Work.

actual length over a number of larger species, the
little Long-tailed Titmouse, next to the Goldcrest, is
the smallest British bird. In spite of its delicacy of
form, it is a hardy, active, restless little creature, and
is very sociable and fearless. The little bird nests early
in the year, the young being often hatched before the
end of April. It will build its nest in the most varied
situations, though one of its favourite sites is among
thick thorns or brambles, or the midst of a furze bush ;
sometimes a holly bush or a dense growth of ivy attracts
it, or it will build in the fork of a willow, ash, or some
other tree.

The actual building operations generally start with
the weaving of the bottom of the nest, the birds build-
ing upwards, and using chiefly moss and wool held
together by spiders' webs in the construction of the
outer walls, while the interior is lined with feathers.
In the first stages of its construction the nest looks
very much like the half -finished nest of a Chaffinch.
The amount of material used, and the labour of collect-
ing and weaving it together, are prodigious, the cock
and the hen bird taking an equal share in the task.
Gradually the sides of the nest are built up, the little
feathered architects at first working perfectly evenly
at the mossy walls; but as the work progresses one
side of the nest begins to rise more rapidly than the
other, and this side is continued over the top, forming
the dome of the nest, beneath which is the little en-
trance hole. Then the exterior is incrusted all over
with gray tree lichens, and this exquisite piece of
work is completed. When built in the midst of a
thorn bush, several of the supporting branches are

108

Some Bird Architects.

often included within the framework of the nest, giving
it additional strength. This is an interesting feature,
inasmuch as from it probably gradually evolved the
tree pensile or hanging nest that is built by many birds.
The lining, composed of feathers, must cost the little
Long-tailed Tits an enormous amount of labour; for
Macgillivray states that he found in one of their nests
no less than 2,379 feathers, which had originally formed
part of the plumage of the Pheasant, Rook, Partridge,
and Wood Pigeon.

Feathers and down are eagerly sought by many
birds to form a lining, and in some cases to be built
into the main structure of the nest, the most charming
and artistic results often being obtained. The Lesser
Redpole often uses feathers most effectively. It builds
a small and very beautiful nest, delicately and neatly
constructed ; the framework generally consists of
woven twigs, grass stems, and moss, the little cup being
smoothly lined with cotton-grass, down, and feathers.
In the nest figured in Plate XIII. we have a particularly
beautiful example, the birds having used the stems of
the wild clematis, which they had obtained from a
hedge near their nesting site, for the outer wall ; and
from the border of the mill-pool near by, frequented by
a pair of swans, they had obtained a supply of swan's-
down, with which the cup was not only lined, but its
edge adorned by a most beautiful fringe, only the tips
of the delicate white feathers showing, and curving
gracefully inwards so as to partially screen the eggs
from view.

A truly remarkable nest is built by the Reed Warbler
(Plate XIV.), and is of particular interest because in its

199

How Animals Work.

construction it is an example o£ a nest which may be
said to occupy an intermediate position between nests
like that of the Long-tailed Tit, which is interwoven
between the supporting branches, and the true sus-
pended nests shortly to be described. It is generally
slung above the surface of a quiet pool, in the middle
of a reed-bed. The material used by the Reed Warbler
in the construction of the nest consists of long grass,
the seed-heads of reeds, and a little cottony wool and
moss. The grass stems, which generally form the
foundation, are wound horizontally round about the
stems of three or four tall reeds, so that they actually
pass right through and form parts of the sides of the
nest, which, as the work of weaving proceeds, assumes
a somewhat conical shape, and is about five or six inches
in depth when completed. Into the interstices is
worked the cottony material from the catkins of the
willows and poplars, while the cavity within, which is
some three inches in* depth, is lined with the finest
grasses and some hairs. So firmly yet elastically is
this nest bound to the supporting reeds, and so great
is its depth, that, no matter how the reeds may sway
and bend in the wind, the eggs will not roll out, and
the little sitting mother bird rests safely brooding them
within the rocking cradle.

For the most striking examples of pensile or hanging
nests we shall have to seek the work of birds inhabiting
other lands, but among our British birds we have at
least one good example in the nest of the Goldcrest,
or, to give it its full title, the Golden-crested Wren,
the smallest of our native birds. The wee bird selects
for its building materials the softest moss and wool it

200

Some Bird Architects.

can find, and these are woven together with the aid
of spiders' webs and long grasses, the whole dainty
structure being suspended hammock fashion from the
under side of the slender twigs at the end of the
branch of some coniferous tree, such as a larch, fir,
yew, or cedar. The frail hammock cradle is then lined
with a few small feathers.

The Long-tailed Tit is by no means our only British
bird architect that affects a dome-shaped structure ;
the little Willow Wren, whose sweet song captivated
the heart of the American naturalist Burroughs — who
declared it to be the sweetest of British songsters — is
skilled in the construction of the dome-shaped nest,
though its work is not so fine or so complex as that of
the Long-tailed Tit. The graceful little Willow Wren
is not, as its popular name might lead us to suppose,
really any near relative of the true Wren. It haunts
the alders and tangled growths of sedges fringing any
quiet wandering moorland stream, and there its soft
sweet song may be heard from about the end of March
until summer has far advanced. Its nest is generally
built very low down, if not actually touching the ground,
and is generally so well concealed from view as to make
the watching of the actual building operations a some-
what difficult if not altogether impossible task. Dried
grasses, dead leaves, fragments of last season's bracken
fern and moss, are collected and woven into a beautiful
dome-shaped nest, with a large opening at the side ;
and the interior finally receives a soft, thick bedding of
feathers.

The Chiff-chaff builds a somewhat similar dome-
shaped nest, chiefly of dead leaves, moss, and dry

201

How Animals Work.

grasses ; but it can generally be distinguished from
that of the Willow Wren by its much larger entrance,
and by its generally being built well off the ground
in brambles and in mixed herbage. The true Wren is
another feathered architect which delights in construct-
ing a dome nest. Very varied are the sites selected by,
the little bird for the building of its nest — such as in
the midst of a dense growth of ivy, an old creeper-clad
wall or tree, in the shelter of a hole in a thatched roof,
under the shelter of the overhanging turf and roots
near the top of a steep bank, or in a tangle of brambles
and dead bracken fern in an open woodland glade.
When the latter situation is selected, the nest is by no
means easily detected ; for the bird will utilize the dead
stems of the ferns as a natural framework, weaving
the branches together most cleverly. The nest is a
fairly compact structure, round or oval in shape, with
the entrance hole in the side, moss and dead leaves
being used chiefly in its construction ; while feathers,
fern, moss, and pieces of dry leaves are all worked up
together to form a soft lining.

There is one particular point of interest about the
Wren on the exact significance of which I believe
ornithologists are still by no means agreed, and that
is its curious habit of partially building several nests
before constructing the one intended for the reception
and incubation of the eggs. They certainly do not
appear to be ordinary nests that have been abandoned
half-way*in their construction, for they are very rarely
used as the foundation of a true nest, but are consid-
ered by some authorities to be nest-like structures
built for the purpose of courtship, like the wonderful

202

Some Bird Architects.

decorated bowers and runs of the Australian Bower-
birds.

Of British birds which have retained the primitive
architecture of the first platform nest built amidst the
branches of the trees we may take as typical examples
the Wood Pigeon, Heron, and Crows ; while the Magpie
shows a considerable advance in the use of sticks and
clay. The Wood Pigeon, or Ring Dove, makes the
merest apology for a nest : it consists of a loose, flimsy
platform of sticks scantily lined with a few finer twigs,
and upon the primitive platform cradle the bird lays its
two glossy, pure white eggs. The nest of the Turtle Dove
is very similar, and built in much the same situations,
though the bird shows a preference for tall bushes and
hedges at a height of six to ten feet from the ground ;
while the Wood Pigeon will build almost anywhere in
the branches of trees, tall shrubs, and bushes. Now
the white eggs of the Wood Pigeon and the Turtle
Dove are most striking and deeply interesting excep-
tions to the practically general rule among eggs laid in
open nests in trees and bushes, or on the bare ground ;
for these are always tinted all over and spotted, streaked
or blotched with deeper colours, so as to render them
less conspicuous, and consequently less likely to catch
the eye of egg- destroy ing animals. It is only amongst
birds which nest in holes and excavated chambers
that pure white eggs are the rule. What, then, is the
meaning of this apparently flagrant defiance of a natural
protective law on the part of the Wood Pigeon and
the Turtle Dove ? They are certainly not imbued with
greater courage or provided with more effective
weapons of defence than other nest-building birds.

203

How Animals Work.

No ; we must dip a little deeper below the surface of
obvious facts if we are to find the true explanation.

First, what of the habits of the nearest relations of
the Wood Pigeon and the Turtle Dove ? Well, now,
their nearest relations are the Stock Dove and the Rock
Dove, and both these birds breed in holes, and also
lay the orthodox pure white eggs typical of all such
nesting sites ; in fact, the Stock Dove takes its popular
name from the habit of nesting in some large, roomy
hole in a tree. Where suitable trees are scarce, the
Stock Dove will utilize a deserted rabbit hole, or even
lay its eggs beneath the shelter of a dense furze bush ;
while occasionally it is known to occupy a squirrel's
nest or " drey," or an old Magpie's nest. From these
facts it is not a difficult matter to arrive at a solution
of the problem. The ancestors of the Wood Pigeon
and the Turtle Dove were, like the Stock and Rock
Doves of to-day, birds that nested in holes and laid
white eggs, and that, scientifically speaking, at no very
distant date. For some reason, some thousands of years
back the Wood Pigeons and Turtle Doves gave up nest-
ing in holes and took to an arboreal life. The period of
time, though long from a purely human point of view,
has not been sufficient for these Pigeons to acquire the
skill in the construction of the nest, or the colouring of
the egg to render it less conspicuous, which is the
habit of all true nest-building birds, and therefore they
may be said to be in a state of transition ; their primitive
nests, though extremely poor cradles for an open situa-
tion in trees and tall bushes, would yet perfectly suffice
as a mere flooring or lining for a snug and well-pro-
tected hole, when the white eggs would be safely hidden

204

Some Bird Architects.

from view. This point is confirmed by the fact that
the Rock Dove does make an almost exactly similar twig
nest in such a situation. We may safely suppose that
in ages to come the Wood Pigeon and Turtle Dove
will gradually acquire the necessary skill to construct
the kind of nest which Nature demands of all nest-
building birds that build in the more open situa-
tions they have chosen for the safety of their offspring,
and that their eggs will also become coloured, and there-
fore less conspicuous objects.

As a matter of fact, there is a great deal to be learned
of the amount of progress, or rather I should perhaps
say divergence from the ancestral type, by the care-
ful examination of the colour of the egg in conjunc-
tion with the structure and shape of the nest in which
it is deposited, and the nesting site. Probably the eggs
of all birds were first of all white and unspotted, like
those of their reptile ancestors ; but only those birds
which have continued to nest in deep safe holes have
been able to continue laying such conspicuous eggs —
those which breed in more exposed situations having
of necessity developed on their eggs patterns of colour
which in the course of time have become more or less
imitative of the colouring of their surroundings in pro-
portion to the greater or lesser need for this kind of
protection, according to the character of the particular
nesting site selected.

The Crow's nest shows a considerable advance in
the art of nest construction over that of the Wood
Pigeon, though of rather rough, untidy appearance.
The foundation is of sticks roughly tangled together,
the character of the workmanship varying among the

205

How Animals Work.

different members of the Crow tribe — some, like the
Rooks, using sappy twigs for the cups of the nest,
which they line with dry grass, moss, and leaves ;
others, like the Carrion Crow, using wool, tufts of
hair, and roots for the lining. As the same nest is
often used again and again, year after year, repairs and
additions being made to it annually, the structure gradu-
ally assumes considerable proportions, and contains a
surprising amount of material.

The Magpie builds a large and conspicuous nest at
almost any height and in varied situations, being equally
at home in the topmost branches of a tall elm or beech,
or amidst the prickly embrace of a dwarf thorn bush.
The nest is a solid structure of sticks and clay, basin-
shaped, and roofed over with a lighter dome of twigs.
First of all the bird collects a quantity of sticks, and
interlaces them to form the base and outer framework
of its nest, and this is succeeded by a substantial layer
of clay and mud. Within this basin a double lining
of fine twigs, rootlets, and grass forms a springy bed
for the eggs to rest upon, and also a porous one, effectu-
ally preventing the nest becoming water-logged during
a heavy downpour of rain, as so often happens to the
nest of the Thrush. Then for the construction of the
dome of the nest the Magpie selects long, tough twigs,
which it interlaces with considerable skill, so that they
form an open network, which, though it does not entirely
conceal the interior of the nest, nevertheless constitutes
a stout fortification against foes on egg-stealing intent,
only a small hole at the side, just sufficient for the bird
to slip in and out, being left. By this means the large
and generally conspicuous nest is pretty effectively pro-

206

Some Bird Architects.

tected from the depredations of Carrion Crows and other
foes.

The Heron, with its long, stilt-like legs and long
neck, does not seem to be of a comfortable build for
nesting in trees, and indeed in many countries it often
nests on the ground in lonely marshland ; while in
Britain it sometimes builds on the bare ground or cliffs
and the top of old ruins, though a tree-top is its more
usual nesting site. Its antics during the process of nest-
building in the early spring amidst the naked branches
of some flat-crowned oak are anything but dignified,
and offer a mirth-provoking spectacle. The nest is
very large and rather flat in form, the cup being a very
shallow one, composed of sticks, lined with twigs, roots,
and occasionally a little dried grass. It is a primitive
affair, but generally sees several years' service ere it is
abandoned, fresh material being added by way of repair
each spring.

The graceful Swallow and House Martin, whose
annual arrival brings to us the promise of returning
spring, are both expert masons. Though both may be
spoken of in a wide family sense as " Swallows," just
as Rooks, Jackdaws, and Ravens may be termed " Crows,"
there is a plain enough distinction between them and
their nests. The Swallow is larger, has longer wings,
a longer and more deeply forked tail, and a more sweep-
ing flight, while its upper plumage, but for some slight
and inconspicuous markings at the edge of the tail
feathers, is dark from head to tail. The House Martin,
on the other hand, has the lower half of its back pure
white. Again, in choice of nesting site and shape of
nest the two birds differ — the Swallow attaching its

207

How Animals Work.

nest generally to some beam or rafter in a cowshed
or other farm outbuilding, while the Martin builds
beneath the eaves or window ledges of our houses.
The nest of the Swallow is really a wonderful piece of
work, consisting of a semicircular saucer or bowl com-
posed of mud pellets, kneaded together with short frag-
ments of straw with wonderful skill, lined with straws
and some horsehair and fine grass, and with a final inner
lining of feathers. The House Martin builds a nearly
globular nest, the walls of which are composed of mud
pellets, and it is completely closed save for one small
hole. It is lined with bits of straw, and has an inner
cushion of feathers, on which the pure white eggs are
deposited. The labour of constructing these nests is
very great, for neither the Swallow nor the House
Martin has a particularly large mouth, so that many
hundreds of journeys have to be made backwards and
forwards in order to carry sufficient mud for the build-
ing of the nest, each tiny beakful being mixed with
saliva, which causes the mud to set as a hard natural
cement.

In Gilbert White's day the chimneys of our houses
were large, roomy shafts, very different both in structure
and appearance from the narrow flue and patent hideous
cowl which generally do duty to-day. And it was in
those old roomy chimneys that the Swallows loved to
build, and of this habit, which the alteration in the
general plan and structure of our chimneys has com-
pelled the birds to abandon, Gilbert White gives the
following interesting account : " Here and there a bird
may affect some odd, peculiar place — as we have known
a swallow build down the shaft of an old well, through

208

PLATE XIV.

THE REED WARBLER'S NEST.

The Reed Warbler slings her nest amidst the tall stems of the swinging reeds, weaving
around two or three of the stems so as to gain additional support.

Some Bird Architects.

which chalk had been formerly, drawn up for the pur-
pose of manure ; but in general with us this hirundo
breeds in chimneys, and loves to haunt those stacks
where there is a constant fire, no doubt for the sake of
warmth. Not that it can subsist in the immediate
shaft where there is a fire, but prefers one adjoining to
that of the kitchen, and disregards the perpetual smoke
of that funnel, as I have often observed with some
degree of wonder. Five or six or more feet down the
chimney does the little bird begin to form her nest
about the middle of May ; which consists, like that of
the House Martin, of a crust or shell composed of dirt
or mud, mixed with short pieces of straw to render it
tough and permanent : with this difference, that where-
as the shell of the Martin is nearly hemispheric, that
of the Swallow is open at the top and like half a deep
dish. This nest is lined with fine grasses, and feathers
which are often collected as they float in the air. Won-
derful is the address which this adroit bird shows all
day long in ascending and descending with security
through so narrow a pass. When hovering over the
mouth of the funnel, the vibrations of her wings, acting
on the confined air, occasion a rumbling like thunder.
It is not improbable that the dam submits to this in-
convenient situation so low in the shaft in order to
secure her broods from rapacious birds, and particu-
larly from owls, which frequently fall down chimneys,
perhaps in attempting to get at these nestlings."

(1,910)

209

CHAPTER XII.

SOME FOREIGN BIRD ARCHITECTS.

AUSTRALIA is an earthly paradise for -the natu-
-tlralist, containing endless wonders of plant and
animal life — -forms of life, indeed, that we shall meet
with nowhere else. Strange insects, strange reptiles
and birds, strange mammals, strange and wonderful
plants abound, while the seas that bathe its coasts swarm
with wonders of the deep. Of its birds, many are
beautiful and expert craftsmen, building both dainty
and remarkable nests. The delightfully graceful little
Fairy Martin takes the place of our House Martin in
Australia, crowding its nests together under the eaves
of houses, or, in the sparsely populated districts, under
the shelter afforded by some overhanging crag on the
face of a cliff. " The nest," writes Gould, " which
is bottle-shaped with a long neck, is composed of mud
or clay, and, like that of our common martin, is only
constructed in the morning and evening, unless the day
be wet or lowering. While building these nests they
appear to work in small companies, six or seven assisting
in the formation of each, one of them remaining within
and receiving the mud brought by the others in their
mouths. In shape the nests are nearly round, but vary

210

Some Foreign Bird Architects.

in size from four to six inches in diameter, the spouts
being eight, nine, or ten inches in length. When built
on the sides of rocks, or in the hollows of trees, they are
placed without any regular order in clusters of about
thirty or forty together, some with the spouts inclining
downwards, others at right angles, etc. They are lined
with feathers and fine grasses."

The Yellow-throated Sericornis is a very interest-
ing little Australian bird, of a general brownish hue
and with a citron-yellow throat, from which it takes
its name. It is a shy bird, hiding amongst the denser
underwood, rarely indulging in long-sustained flight,
but rather flying from thicket to thicket, and spending
much time upon the ground in search of insects on
which it feeds. The site selected for the nest is a re-
markable one, while the ingenuity of its construction
aroused the admiration of Gould, the famous orni-
thologist, who wrote the following interesting account :
" All those who have travelled in the Australian
forests must have observed that in their more dense
and humid parts an atmosphere peculiarly adapted for
the rapid and abundant growth of mosses of various
kinds is generated, and that these mosses not only
grow upon the trunks of decayed trees, but are often
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 im-
possible to distinguish it from any of the pendulous
masses in the vicinity. These branches 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

211

How Animals Work.

rambles ; in others, they are placed high up on the
trees, but only in those 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 intru-
sion 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 examina-
tion 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 different species of Australian Honey-eaters
are all dainty architects, who build hanging or pensile
nests. That of the Singing Honey-eater, whose song
Gould compares to the song of the missel thrush, is built
in New South Wales, of the very finest dry stalks that
the bird can find, lined with fibrous roots, matted to-
gether with spiders' webs, and fastened by its rim to
the slender, pendulous twigs of the beautiful myall
tree (Acacia penduld). In Western Australia we find
this bird using different material, while preserving the
general structural features of the nest. It collects
grasses, which, although green when first woven into
the nest, soon become white and dry. With the grasses

212

Some Foreign Bird Architects.

is woven the hair of the kangaroo and one of the so-
called opossums, so *as to make the walls fairly weather-
proof, while the interior receives a soft lining of finer
grasses and cotton down obtained from various plants.
The Painted Honey-eater also hangs its nest amidst
the pendulous twigs and leaves of the myall tree ; but
it is a far less substantial structure, composed of finest
fibrous roots daintily but loosely interwoven, so that
it is really a very frail nest, and a most difficult one
to procure without damage. The Lanceolate Honey-
eater builds a perfectly charming and most fairy-like
cradle for its precious eggs. The little bird frequents
the Liverpool Plains of Australia, where, on myall
trees whose branches overhang some quiet stream,
it builds its dainty nest. For building materials the
bird collects grass, wool, and pure white cotton from
various plants, and with these it constructs a deep,
somewhat pouch-shaped nest, which is slung hammock
fashion from the slender twigs of the tree. In quiet,
sheltered spots, amidst the masses of mangroves which
fringe the bogs and creeks, the White-throated Honey-
eater makes its home ; and here, attached to some
low, slender branch that stretches out over the water,
its curious hanging nest is to be found. In shape
and size the nest rather resembles a good-sized break-
fast cup, and the bird uses in its construction the deli-
cate, paper-like bark of the Melaleuchce, and various
rootlets and vegetable fibres, the interior being lined
with fine, soft grasses.

Two more interesting examples of Australian birds
which build hanging nests are the Rock Warbler, or
Cataract Bird, and the dainty wee Dicaeum Swallow.

213

How Animals Work.

The Rock Warbler, or Cataract Bird, is a small brown
bird with a dull red tint upon the breast, and is scarcely
as big as our common sparrow. As one of its popular
names denotes, it is a bird which invariably frequents
such situations as mountain streams when they rush
through rocky channels, and it is in such surroundings,
wherever some rock ledge overhangs the stream and
affords suitable shelter, that the bird builds its nest.
This is really a very remarkable structure, calling for
considerable patience and skill in its weaving. The
material used by the bird is the long moss which grows
plentifully at hand, and with this the Rock Warbler
builds a nest which in shape somewhat resembles an
old-fashioned claret jug without a handle, but having
a long, slender neck terminating abruptly in a more or
less globular body. Though of rather rough exterior,
the nest is soft and snug within, and the entrance is
near the centre of the bulbous expansion. The birds
appear to be of a social disposition, for they will hang
their nests by dozens in quite close proximity to each
other on the face of some particularly favoured site.
The Dicaeum Swallow is a wee, bright-coloured bird
scarcely as large as the wren, and frequents the tops
of the tallest trees. Its upper plumage is a beautiful
glossy blue-black, while the throat and breast are a vivid
scarlet, and the stomach pure white. High up at the top
of a tree — the myall or weeping acacia being a favourite
— -the graceful little bird hangs its beautiful nest, which
when first built is of purest white hue. The tiny
feathered architect uses nothing but the white, cotton-
like down which it collects from various seeding plants,
and with this material fashions a more or less pouch-

214

Some Foreign Bird Architects.

purse-shaped nest, suspended at its apex from some
slender topmost branch.

Two most remarkable nest-builders are the Aus-
tralian Mallee Bird (Leipoa ocellatd) and the Mound
Bird (Megapodius tumulus), both of which build upon
the ground mounds of considerable dimensions which
are used as nests. The Mallee Bird, according to
Gilbert, selects as its nesting site ^densely wooded,
gravelly hills on which the forest growth of tall euca-
lyptus trees overshadows the thick undergrowth. Here
the bird makes its mound by scratching up the gravel,
and mixing with that intended for the interior of the
mound a quantity of plant material, so as to form a regular
hotbed as it were ; for this central mass in which the eggs
are deposited soon begins to ferment and decay, so that
the temperature rises as high as 89° Fahrenheit, and
sufficient warmth is generated to incubate the eggs.
Of the way in which the Mallee Bird constructs this
curious nest, or natural incubator, Sir George Grey
has given the following account : — " The mound ap-
pears to be constructed as follows. A nearly circular
hole, about eighteen inches in diameter, is scratched
in the ground to a depth of seven or eight inches, and
filled with dead leaves, dead grass, and similar mate-
rials, and a large mass of the same substances is placed
all round it upon the ground. Over this first layer a
large mound of sand, mixed with dry grass, etc., is
thrown, and finally the whole assumes the form of a
dome. When an egg is deposited, the top is laid
open and a hole scraped in its centre to within two or
three inches of the bottom layer of dead leaves. The
egg is placed in the sand just at the edge of the hole,

215

How Animals Work.

in a vertical position, with the smaller end downwards.
The sand is then thrown in again, and the mound left
in its original form. The egg which has been thus
deposited is therefore completely surrounded and en-
veloped in soft sand, having from four to six inches
of sand between the lower end of the egg and the layer
of dead leaves. When a second egg is laid, it is de-
posited in precisely the same plane as the first, but at
the opposite side of the hole before alluded to. A
third egg is placed in the same plane as the others,
but, as it were, at the third corner of the square ;
the fourth in the fourth corner — the figure being in

o
this form : o o. The next four eggs in succession

are placed in the interstices, but always in the same
plane, so that at last there is a circle of eight eggs, all
standing upright in the sand, with several inches of sand
intervening between each. The male bird assists the
female in opening and covering up the mound, and
provided the birds are not themselves disturbed, the
female continues to lay in the same mound, even after
it has been several times robbed. The natives say
that the hen bird lays an egg every day."

The Mound Bird, or Megapode (Megapodius tumulus),
does not make a regular hotbed of vegetation like
the Mallee Bird; but its mounds frequently attain to
very considerable proportions, being added to season
after season, until they assume such large proportions
that it is "ho uncommon thing to find trees growing
upon them as if they were natural hillocks of earth.
The birds build these mounds in dense thickets close

316

Some Foreign Bird Architects.

to the seashore, or on the shore itself, those built in
the latter situation being often very irregular in shape,
and generally formed of sand and shells. Some of these
shore mounds have been found to measure as much
as a hundred and fifty feet in circumference ; while the
mounds built in the thickets are more regular in shape,
and generally composed of a light black vegetable soil.
The parent birds dig down into these mounds from
the top, excavating holes in which the eggs are placed,
their incubation being accomplished by the heat of the
sun's rays pouring down upon the mound and raising
the temperature within.

Gould has left the following particulars concern-
ing the mounds made by these remarkable birds ; and
his remarks and observations are of particular value,
as these birds are almost certain to grow rarer as the
country becomes opened up and more populated. " I
revisited Knocker's Bay," writes Gould, " and having
with some difficulty penetrated into a dense thicket
of cane-like creeping plants, I suddenly found myself
beside a mound of gigantic proportions. It was fifteen
feet in height and sixty in circumference at the base,
the upper part being about a third less, and was en-
tirely composed of the richest description of light vege-
able mould ; on the top were very recent marks of
birds' feet. The native and myself immediately set
to work, and after an hour's extreme labour, rendered
the more fatiguing from the excessive heat and the
tormenting attacks of myriads of mosquitoes and sand-
flies, I succeeded in obtaining an egg from a depth of
about five feet. It was in a perpendicular ^position,
with the earth surrounding and very lightly touching

217

How Animals Work.

it on all sides, and without any other material to im-
part warmth — which, in fact, did not appear necessary,
the mound being quite warm to the hands. The holes
in this mound commenced at the outer edge of the
summit, and ran down obliquely towards the centre ;
their direction was therefore uniform. Like the major-
ity of the mounds I have seen, this was so enveloped
in thickly foliaged trees as to preclude the possibility
of the sun's rays reaching any part. The mounds dif-
fer very much in their composition, form, and situa-
tion ; most of those that are placed near the water's
edge were formed of sand and shells, without a vestige
of any other material, but in some of them I met with
a portion of soil and decaying wood. When con-
structed of this loose material they are very irregular
in outline, and often resemble a bank thrown up by
a constant surf. One remarkable specimen of this
description, situated on the southern bank of Knocker's
Bay, has the appearance of a bank from twenty-five
to thirty feet in length, with an average height of five
feet. Another, even more singular, is situated at the
head of the harbour, and is composed entirely of
pebbly ironstone, resembling a confused heap of sifted
gravel ; into this I dug to the depth of two or three
feet without finding any change of character. It may
have been conical originally, but is now without any
regularity, and is very extensive, covering a space of
at least a hundred and fifty feet in circumference.
These remarkable specimens would, however, seem to
be exceptions, as by far the greater number are en-
tirely formed by light black vegetable soil, are of conical
form, and are situated in the densest thickets. Occa-

2x8

Some Foreign Bird Architects.

sionally the mounds are met with in barren, rocky,
and sandy situations, where not a particle of soil similar
to that of which they are composed occurs for miles
round ; how the soil is produced in such situations appears
unaccountable. It has been said that the parent birds
bring it from a grea^ distance ; but as, as we have seen,
they readily adapt themselves to the difference of situa-
tion, this is scarcely probable. I conceive that they
collect the dead leaves and other vegetable matter
that may be at hand, and which, decomposing, forms
this particular description of soil. These mounds are
doubtless the work of many years, and of many birds
in succession ; some of them are evidently very an-
cient, trees being often seen growing from their sides.
In one instance I found a tree growing from the middle
of a mound which was a foot in diameter." *

The Australian Magpie-lark, or Pied Grallina, is
a wonderfully graceful, elegant bird, and singularly
tame and confiding in disposition, boldly visiting the
verandas of the houses, along which it will run in a
manner very similar to that of our British Pied Wag-
tail. Needless to say, it is a great favourite with all
bird-loving residents. The nesting season is in October
and November, and then the Pied Grallina shows itself
to be an elegant worker in clay, with which material
it builds a nest. Most birds seek at least to partially
hide their nests from view, or by using suitable materials,
such as moss and lichens, strive to make them resemble
their surroundings in colour and appearance. Not so
the Pied Grallina, which seems almost to go out of its
way to make its nest as conspicuous an object as pos-
* Gould's Handbook to the Birds of Australia.
219

How Animals Work.

sible. One of its favourite nesting sites is the most
exposed and bare horizontal branch it can find, either
in the open forest or overhanging a stream. In such
a noticeable situation the bird will set to work, and
with soft clay will construct a remarkably solid nest,
from five to six inches in breadth and three inches in
depth. The clay soon becomes hard and solid upon

Nest of the Australian Magpie-lark.

exposure to the atmosphere and the hot rays of the
sun, so that the finished nest assumes the appear-
ance of a massive, clay-coloured earthenware vessel,
which varies in colour with that of the material of which
it is formed. Sometimes the locality of the nest site
will yield no mud or clay, and then the nest is con-
structed of black and brown mould ; and the Grallina,
as if fully aware that this substance will not hold to-

220

Some Foreign Bird Architects.

gether for lack of the adhesive quality of clay, proceeds
to mix with the earth a great quantity of dried grass
stalks and similar material, and thus forms a firm,
hard exterior to the nest, while the inside is slightly
lined with grass and a few feathers.

Another singularly confiding little bird, except in
the breeding season, when it exhibits extreme anxiety
at the approach of an intruder to the vicinity of its
nest, is the White-shafted Fantail, which is very com-
mon about Parramatta. Except in the breeding season,
the little bird will allow you to approach it quite closely,
and will not infrequently dash in at an open door
in pursuit of gnats and other insects upon which it
feeds. About October it begins to think of nesting,
and looks about for a suitable site, always selecting
a spot low down, within a few feet of the ground;
though the locality varies a good deal, for it will build
in the midst of dense bushes, in the open forest, or
place its nest on a branch overhanging a mountain
rivulet. The nest is a most elegant piece of work,
closely resembling a wineglass in shape, and is woven
together with exquisite skill. It is generally com-
posed of the inner bark of a species of eucalyptus,
neatly lined with the down of the tree-fern intermingled
with flowering stalks of moss, and outwardly fastened
together with spiders' webs, which not only serve to
envelop the nest, but are also employed to strengthen
its attachment to the branch on which it is constructed.
Altogether it is as dainty an example of bird archi-
tecture as one could well imagine.

One of the most remarkable nest-builders in Brazil
is the Oven Bird, which is an expert mason, construct-

221

How Animals Work.

ing a wonderfully solid and striking-looking nest. Of
its general appearance and the nesting site Burmeister
gives the following interesting account : — " When we
have passed the lofty mountain chains which divide
the vast coast forests of Brazil from the plains of the
campos, and descend the hills of the Rio das Velhas
valley, there on all sides one notices, in the great trees
which stand solitary in the neighbourhood of dwellings,
large melon-shaped masses of earth on the stout, spread-
ing branches. Their appearance is striking. You
might take them to be the nests of termites ; but then
they have an opening on one side, and they are all of
one size and shaped alike, while the constructions of
termites are irregular in form and are never placed
freely on a branch, but always at a point where it is
forked. We soon find out, however, what is the true
nature of these heaps of earth ; we recognize the large
oval aperture at the side, and presently we may see
going in and out a little bird with warm brown plumage :
it is, in fact, a bird's nest — that of the Oven Bird, known
to every native by the name of ' Johnny Clay/ c Jono
de barro.' "

Like the Australian Pied Grallina, the Oven Bird
does not appear to pay particular heed to the con-
cealment of its nest; and, indeed, the safe hiding of
so conspicuous an object would be no easy matter.
Various sites, however^ are selected ; for in addition to
the exposed position on the boughs of solitary trees,
as described by Burmeister, the bird will build in fairly
dense bushes, and sometimes on beams in sheds and
outhouses. The walls of the dome-shaped nest are
about an inch in thickness, so that it is a most remark-

222

Some Foreign Bird Architects.

ably solid structure, the materials of which it is built
consisting of mud and clay, further stiffened by the
admixture of grass, vegetable fibres, and the stems of
various plants. But to fully appreciate what a wonder-
ful piece of work this large nest really is, one must
carefully divide a specimen in half, so as to obtain a
dear view of the interior. There one discovers that
crossing the nest from side to side is a kind of parti-
tion wall, composed of the same materials as the outer
wall and reaching nearly to the top of the dome of
the nest; so that, practically, the nest is divided into
two chambers, the inner chamber being lined with a
soft bed of feathers, on which the eggs are deposited.
Considering the complex character of the nest, it is
constructed in a remarkably short space of time, the
birds labouring with untiring zeal at their task, so that
a nest is often completed in the space of some five or
six days. Both cock and hen birds work with equal
enthusiasm at the construction of the nest, flying back-
wards and forwards carrying beakfuls of mud and clay.
This is first of all spread out with the aid of beak and
claw so as to make a regular and firm foundation, and
then the birds begin to build upon its edges the rim
of the nest, which at first slopes slightly outwards.
Gradually, layer upon layer, the nest is in this way
built up, until the dome is completed. The entrance
to the nest is at one side, and is a fairly high, narrow
opening with a curved margin, about two inches wide
and nearly four inches high, large enough to permit
the ready ingress and egress of the birds. The natives
appear to have many curious superstitions concerning
the Oven Bird, for which they have considerable affec-

223

How Animals Work.

tion, one popular belief being that the bird is of a
highly pious nature and refrains from the labour of
nest-building on Sundays. Careful observation of one
or two pairs engaged in their architectural labours,
however, will suffice to show that this is not the case,
the birds labouring as steadily and cheerfully upon a
Sunday as on any other day in the week.

Another expert worker in clay is the Syrian Nut-
hatch, which selects as its nesting site the face of some
steep overhanging rock the recesses of which afford
shelter and at the same time are difficult of access. In
one of these recesses the bird builds its funnel-shaped
nest, using for the building materials mud mixed with
fragments of dry grass. The base of the nest fre-
quently attains to twenty-four or twenty-six inches in
circumference, while the walls are quite substantial?
and vary from half an inch to fully an inch and a half
in thickness. The neck of the funnel, by means of
which the bird enters and leaves the nest, varies a good
deal in length, and though generally measuring about
four inches, sometimes attains to a foot. Within, this
remarkable structure is lined with goat's wool, thistle-
down, and any other soft material that can be collected
in the vicinity of the nesting site. The bird appears
to take considerable care in so plastering the outside
of its nest as to make it resemble as closely as possible
the appearance of the face of the rock against which
it is built. It is also stated to evince great pleasure
in its mason work, not infrequently building several
nests besides the one specially intended for the rearing
of its offspring.

Our British Nuthatch, like the Titmice, generally

224

Some Foreign Bird Architects.

nests in a hole in a tree, but on occasion will, it would
seem, depart from this general rule and construct a
nest entirely of mud. Such a nest, composed of mud,
and built into the side of a haystack, was presented
some years ago to the British Museum by Mr. Bond,
together with the following interesting particulars : —
" I have received this summer from the neighbourhood
of East Grinstead a nest built by a pair of Nuthatches,
which is so remarkable in its construction, and in the
site selected for it, that I think a notice is worth re-
cording. It is well known that the Nuthatch almost
invariably makes use of a hole either in a tree or wall
in which to deposit its eggs, and is not, in the strict
sense of the word, a nest-builder. In this instance
a haystack was selected, and the birds, by pulling out
a quantity of hay and plastering up the hollow with
mud brought from a considerable distance, formed a
nest of similar construction to that of a swallow, but
very much larger, with an entrance hole near the top,
and the ends of the hay stems neatly embedded in the
mud." The nest had been built at a height of five
or six feet from the ground, and the birds first attracted
the attention of some farm labourers who observed
them pulling the hay from the stack. This the Nut-
hatches continued to do until they had formed a large
opening, and not until this gap had been formed did
they commence building with mud, which had to be
carried from a point some one hundred and fifty yards
distant from their strange nesting site. The labour
occupied a considerable time, the farm hands stating
that they had watched the birds at work upon the
construction of their nest for quite six weeks. This

(1,910) 225 P

How Animals Work.

truly remarkable nest, when cut out of the haystack,
weighed nearly eleven pounds, and measured thirteen
inches in length, by eight inches in its greatest width,
and four inches in thickness ; while it was lined with
fragments of the scaly inner bark of the fir tree.

That extraordinary-looking bird the Hornbill, al-
though not strictly speaking a nest-builder, is yet some-
thing of a mason. Its nesting site is a convenient hole
in a tree, and within this hole the female bird actually
permits herself to be walled up by the male bird, who
plasters up the entrance to the hole with mud and clay,
leaving only a small opening through which he can
pass food to his voluntarily imprisoned spouse. This
curious habit is considered by some authorities as
probably a means of protecting the hen bird from the
attacks of monkeys and monitor lizards while she is
sitting on the eggs and brooding her young; and as
at the same time she appears to pass through the process
of moulting, when for a short time scarcely a flight
feather is left on her wings, she is safe from the danger
of toppling out of the nest and being * unable, owing
to the state of her wings, to return. But whatever
the reason, she is walled up by her truly devoted hus-
band when the time comes for her to sit upon the
eggs, and she does not regain her liberty until the young
are nearly, if not quite, fully fledged. During the whole
of this fairly lengthy incarceration the devoted male
bird mounts guard outside, and is busily engaged in
collecting and bringing back food supplies, first for his
wife, and later for both mother bird and hungry off-
spring, so that by the end of the nesting season he
presents a very careworn appearance, and is quite

226

Some Foreign Bird Architects.

exhausted by his toils — " a very shadow of his former
self."

Dr. Livingstone has given the following very inter-
esting account of his observations of one of the Horn-
bills during his missionary travels in South Africa.
1 The first time I saw this bird," he writes, " was at
Kolobery, where I had gone to the forest for some
timber. Standing by a tree, a native looked behind
me and exclaimed, ' There is the nest of a Korwe.' I
saw a slit only, about half an inch wide and three or
four inches long, in a slight hollow of a tree. Think-
ing the word * korwe ' denoted some small animal, I
waited with interest to see what he would extract. He
broke the clay which surrounded the slit, put his arm
into the hole, and brought out a Tockus, or Red-beaked
Hornbill, which he killed. He informed me that when
the female enters her nest she submits to a real con-
finement. The male plasters up the entrance, 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 until they are fully
fledged. During all this time, which is stated to be two
or three months, the male continues to feed her and the
young family. The prisoner generally becomes quite
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 some-
times happens after a fall of rain, he is benumbed, falls
down, and dies." Wallace describes the capture of
a young Hornbill and the outward appearance of the
nest, as he saw it in Sumatra, as follows : — " I returned

227

How Animals Work.

to Palembang by water, and while staying a day at
a village while a boat was being made watertight,
I had the good fortune to obtain a male, female, and
young bird of one of the large Hornbills. I had sent
my hunters to shoot, and while I was at breakfast
they returned, bringing me a fine large male of the
Buceros bicornis, which one of them assured me he had
shot while feeding the female, which was shut up
in a hole in a tree. I had often read of this curious
habit, and immediately returned to the place, accom-
panied by several of the natives. After crossing a
stream and a bog, we found a large tree leaning over
some water, and on its lower side, at a height of about
twenty feet, appeared a small hole, and what looked
like a quantity of mud, which I was assured had been
used in stopping up the large hole. After a while we
heard the harsh cry of a bird inside, and could see
the white extremity of its beak put out. I offered a
rupee to any one who would go up and get out the bird,
with the egg or young one ; but they all declared it was
too difficult, and they were afraid to try. I therefore
very reluctantly came away. In about an hour after-
wards, much to my surprise, a tremendous loud, hoarse
screaming was heard, and the bird was brought me,
together with a young one which had been found in
the hole. This was a most curious object, as large as
a pigeon, but without a particle of plumage on any
part of it. It *was exceedingly plump and soft, and
with a semi-transparent skin, so that it looked more like
a bag of jelly, with head and feet stuck on, than like
a real bird." The devotion of the male Hornbill to
the care of his imprisoned family is very touching,

228

Some Foreign Bird Architects.

and it is curious to note that in captivity the bird will
throw up his food and not only offer it to his mate,
though she is not walled up in a tree, but will offer
food in the same way to his keeper or any other human
friend for whom he may form an attachment.

The Fantail Warbler, common over the whole of
Southern Europe, and in Africa, India, and China,
is a highly skilled little architect, building a singularly
beautiful and dainty nest. Its favourite nesting site
is a patch of dense fine-stemmed grass, from eighteen
inches to two feet in height, growing in a moist situa-
tion. Around two or three of the upright grass stalks
the little bird weaves a framework of cotton or other
fibrous material at a height of between ten inches and
fourteen inches from the ground, the material being
sewn into the grass and passed from one stalk to an-
other, the blades and stems being closely tacked and
caught together with cobwebs and very fine, silky
vegetable fibre, so that a narrow tube is formed. This
accomplished, the little bird proceeds to bend down
several blades belonging to the stalks which have been
connected together, and to interlace them so that they
form a bottom to the tube. The whole of the interior
is then lined with closely felted cotton or other downy
substance. The completed nest forms a deep and
narrow purse of about three inches in depth, and an
inch in diameter at the top, and one-fifth of an inch
at the broadest part below. The stems of grass are
generally tacked together a good deal higher up on one
side than on the other, and it is through or between
the untacked stems opposite to this that the tiny en-
trance to the nest is made. The stems and blades

229

How Animals Work.

of grass meeting above the nest form a perfect shelter
from the weather, and also screen it completely from
view. In this dainty little nest we have a combina-
tion of weaving and actual stitching which is particu-
larly interesting, and shows a high degree of skill on
the part of the enthusiastic little bird, which works away
with such untiring and persistent energy that, from
start to finish, the building of the nest|is often com-
pleted within five days.

And now I come to a well-known and truly re-
markable bird craftsman, whose highly skilled work
has long been a source of wonder and admiration :
this is the Tailor Bird, familiar throughout the whole
of the Indian peninsula, Burma, and China. In these
countries it appears to be most common in well-wooded
districts, and is a familiar bird about the gardens,
orchards, and hedgerows, where it eagerly hops about
among the branches of the trees and shrubs, hunting
for the various small insects upon which it feeds. A
good deal of individuality seems to be displayed on
the part of the bird in the construction of its nest ; for
while some are most highly finished, the leaves being
sewn together with the greatest care and neatness, in
others it is of far inferior character. The breeding
season in India lasts from May to August, and the
wonderful little nest consists of a deep, soft cup en-
closed in leaves, which the Tailor Bird sews together
so as to form a perfect protecting sheath (Plate XV.).
" The nests vary very much in appearance," writes
Mr. Hume, " according to the number and descrip-
tion of leaves which the bird employs, and the manner
in which it employs them ; but the nest itself is usually

230

Some Foreign Bird Architects.

chiefly composed of fine cotton wool, with a few horse-
hairs, and, at times, a few very fine grass stems as a
lining, apparently to keep the wool in its place and
enable the cavity to retain permanently its shape. I
have found the nests with three leaves fastened, at
equal distances from each other, into the sides of the
nest, and not joined to each other at all. I have found
them between two leaves — the one forming a high back,
and turned up at the end to support the bottom of
the nest ; the other hiding the nest in front, and hang-
ing down well below it, the tip only of the first leaf
being sewn to the middle of the second. I have found
them with four leaves sewn together to form a canopy
and sides, from which the bottom of the nest depended
bare ; and I have found them between two long leaves
whose sides, from the very tips to near the peduncles,
were closely and neatly sewn together. For sewing
they generally use cobwebs; but silk from cocoons,
thread, wool, and vegetable fibres are all useful." Of
a nest which the same writer obtained at Bareilly he
states that " three of the long, ovato-lanceolate leaves
of the mango, whose peduncles sprang from the same
point, had been neatly drawn together with gossamer
threads run through the sides of the leaves and knotted
outside, so as to form a cavity like the end of a netted
purse, with a wide slit on the side nearest the trunk,
beginning near the bottom, and widening upwards.
Inside this the real nest, nearly three inches deep, and
about two inches in diameter, was neatly constructed of
wool and fine vegetable fibres, the bottom being thinly
lined with horsehair. In this lay three tiny delicate
bluish-white eggs, with a few pale reddfeh-brown

231

How Animals Work.

blotches at the large ends, and just a very few spots
and specks of the same colour elsewhere." By means
of its rather slender, sharp-pointed beak the Tailor
Bird pierces the necessary holes along the edges of the
leaves, then passes the sewing material through them
and draws them together, generally so as to form a
kind of hollow, downward-pointing cone.

Several of the Humming Birds make more or less
purse-like nests, which they attach to the extremity
or to the middle of some suitable, broadly lanceolate
leaf. The beautiful little Hermit Humming Bird,
for instance, builds a singular pouch nest, which has
a sort of long tail depending from its base, and this
nest is attached to the extremity of a leaf. For building
materials the silky fibres of plants, the cotton down
from various seed vessels, and the woolly sort of sub-
stance procured from a species of fungus are used-
all being woven together with spiders' webs, by means
of which the nest is also attached to the leaf. The
Gray-throated Hermit Humming Bird attaches its
nest, composed of moss fibres bound together with
gossamer webs, near the centre of the leaf. The
Pigmy Hermit also attaches its nest to a leaf in much
the same manner. This wee bird makes great use of
downy seeds as building material, the exterior of the
nest being covered with them, while inside it is lined
with the same material and strengthened with the
most delicate fibres of flowering plants. The dainty
little nest is cup-shaped, with a long tail-like appendage
which gives it rather the appearance of a delicate fun-
nel. A particularly dainty nest, usually suspended
from the tip of some conveniently placed palm leaf,

232

PLATE XV.

THE WONDERFUL NEST OF THE TAILOR BIRD.

The leaves are stitched to the body of the nest with fine plant fibres, cotton, and

cobwebs.

Some Foreign Bird Architects.

is that of the Sawbill Humming Bird. This bird has
gained its popular name from the curious formation
of its long, slender beak, which
fo*r a short distance from the tip
is notched in a sawlike fashion
on the edges of both the upper
and the lower mandible. Using
fine vegetable fibres, the Sawbill
Humming Bird weaves them to-
gether so as to form a dainty
open-network purse nest, the
outer walls of which are so
loosely woven that the eggs and
lining can be seen through the
interstices. Leaves, mosses, and
lichens are woven into the body
of the nest, and a compact
layer of this material forms a
soft bed for the eggs, but the
edge of the nest is always a
loosely woven lattice-work as
already described. Practically
all the Humming Birds build
interesting and daintily con-
structed nests, and it seems
a cruel and disgraceful thing
that many of these exquisite
wee birds have been so ruth-
lessly slaughtered, in such whole-
sale numbers, for the sake of
their glorious plumage that they are fast approaching
total extinction.

233

Nest of the Pigmy Hermit
Humming Bird.

How Animals Work.

For the most marvellous examples of nest-weaving
we must look to the. true Weaver Birds and the Hang-
nests, or Icteridce, to give them their scientific name.
The Hang-nests are a strictly American family of birds,
some species showing marked affinities to the Starlings,
while their long, purse-like nests suggest their affinity
to the Weaver Birds. One of the most familiar of
these American Hang-nests is the Baltimore Oriole,
a sweet- voiced, handsome bird common throughout
New England. It is interesting to find that this beauti-
ful bird varies both the materials used in the construc-
tion of its nest, and the nesting site, according to the
part of America it is inhabiting. Thus, in the Northern
States, the nest is placed in as sheltered and sunny
a spot as can be found, and is snugly lined with the
finest and warmest materials closely woven together ;
while down in the South the nest is placed in a well-
shaded spot well screened from the fierce rays of the
noontide sun, and is frequently built entirely of lichens,
quite loosely woven together, so that plenty of air can
circulate through its walls, the soft, warm lining of the
Northern nest being altogether absent.

The nest is a very beautiful piece of work, measur-
ing about six or seven inches in length, pouch-shaped,
and rather deeper than its total width, skilfully woven
of moss, lichens, and any plant fibres that can be ob-
tained ; flax, wool, tow, and hair of any description also
being used. Indeed, it is stated that the birds will
carry off any lengths of cotton thread or silk that they
can find about the gardens -or verandas of the houses,
and will do their best to try to unfasten the threads
by which the farmer has fastened his grafts on to the

234

Some Foreign Bird Architects.

trees in the orchards. The finished nest is attached
by its rim at several points to the branch selected by
the bird.

The Orchard Oriole, or Bobolink, a closely allied
species, is an equally skilful weaver. It is fond
of building in the weeping willow tree, whose droop-
ing leaves afford a most effectual concealment, while
the delicate twigs are often fastened together so as to
support the entire circumference of the entrance to
the nest. The Cassique, or Crested Oriole, is quite
as sociable in its habits as the Baltimore Oriole, fre-
quenting gardens and orchards, so that its habits can
easily be observed. Its nest is pocket-shaped, but is
considerably longer than that of the Baltimore Oriole,
and of much looser texture, and generally built of rather
coarser material, vegetable fibres and strips of bark
being used in its construction. In collecting the strips
of bark the Cassique displays considerable ingenuity,
pulling up a little tag of the outer bark with the aid
of its beak, and then seizing it and flying along the
branch in such a way as to peel off a long, thin strip.
With this material and other plant fibres the bird weaves
a nest some five to six inches in diameter, and often
three to four feet in length.

The true Weaver Birds are distributed over Africa,
India, and the Malay Peninsula, and their nests are
certainly among the most interesting productions of
bird architecture. How wonderfully perfect is their
art can be seen by reference to the photograph (Plate
XVI .), which shows a particularly perfect example.
The common Baya Weaver Bird (Ploceus bayd) is found
throughout that wonderful land, from Cape Comorin

235

\
How Animals Work.

and Ceylon to the foot of the Himalayas, extending
into Assam, Burma, and Malaysia. " Its long, retort-
shaped nest," writes Dr. Jerdon, " is familiar to all;
and it is indeed a marvel of skill, as elegant in its form
as substantial in its structure, and weather-proof against
the downpour of a Malabar or Burmese monsoon.
It is very often suspended from the fronds of some
lofty palm tree, either the palmyra, cocoa-nut, or date ;
but by no means so universally as Mr. Blyth would
imply, for a babool or other tree will often be selected
in preference to a palm tree growing close by, as I have
seen within a few miles from Calcutta on the banks
of the canal. In India I have never seen the Baya
suspend its nest except on trees ; but in some parts
of Burma, and more particularly in Rangoon, the
Bayas usually select the thatch of a bungalow to sus-
pend their nests from, regardless of the inhabitants
within. In the cantonment of Rangoon very many
bungalows may be seen, with twenty, thirty, or more
of these long nests hanging from the end of the thatched
roof, and in one house in which I was an inmate a small
colony commenced their labours towards the end of
April ; and in August, when I revisited that station,
there were above one hundred nests attached all round
the house ! In India, in some localities, they appear
to evince a partiality to build in the neighbourhood
of villages or dwellings ; in other places they nidificate
in most retired spots in the jungle, or in a solitary tree
in the midst of some large patch of rice cultivation."
From the above description we learn, therefore, that
the Baya Weaver Bird by no means always selects the
same nesting site for its habitation.

236

Some Foreign Bird Architects.

Of the manner in which the wonderful nest is woven
Dr. Jerdon gives the following minute and deeply in-
teresting account : — " The nest is frequently made of
grass of different kinds plucked when green, some-
times of strips of plantain leaf, and not infrequently
of strips from the leaves of the date palm or cocoa-
nut ; and I have observed that nests made of this last
material are smaller and less bulky than those made
with grass, as if the little architects were quite aware
that with such strong fibre less amount of material
was necessary. The nest varies much in the length
both of the upper part, or support, and the lower tube,
or entrance, and the support is generally solid from
the point whence it is hung for two or three inches,
but varies much both in length and strength. When
the structure has advanced to the spot where the birds
have determined the egg compartment to be, a strong
transverse loop is formed, not in the exact centre, but
a little at one side. If this is taken from the tree and
reversed, the nest has the appearance of a basket with
its handle, but less so in this than in other species,
which have seldom any length of support above.
Various authors have described this loop or bar as
peculiar to the male nest or sitting nest, whereas it
exists primarily in all, and is simply the point of separa-
tion between the real nest and the tubular entrance,
and, being used as a perch both by the old birds and
the young (when grown sufficiently), requires to be
very strong. Up to this time both sexes have worked
together indiscriminately, but when this loop is com-
pleted the female takes up her seat upon it, leaving
the cock bird to fetch more fibre and work from the

- 237

How Animals Work.

outside of the nest, whilst she works on the inside,
drawing in fibres pushed in by the male, reinserting
them in their proper place, and smoothing all carefully.
Considerable time is spent in completing this part of
the nest, the egg chamber formed on one side of the
loop and the tubular entrance at the other, after which
there appears to be an interval of rest. It is at this
stage of the work — from the formation of the loop to
the time that the egg compartment is ready — that the
lumps of clay are stuck on about which there have been
so many and conflicting theories. The original notion
— derived entirely, I believe, from the natives — was
that the clay was used to stick fire-flies on, to light up
the apartment at night. Layard suggests that the bird
uses it to sharpen its bill on ; Burgess, that it serves
to strengthen the ne§t. I, of course, quite disbelieve
the fire-fly story, and doubt the other two suggestions.
From an observation of several nests, the times at which
the clay was placed in the nests, and the position occu-
pied, I am inclined to think that it is used to balance
the nest correctly, and to prevent its being blown
about by the wind. In one nest lately examined there
was about three ounces of clay in six different patches.
It is generally believed that the unfinished nests are
built by the male for his own special behoof, and that
the pieces of clay are more commonly found in them
than in the complete nest. I did not find this the case
at Rangoon, where my opportunities for observing the
bird were good, and believe rather that the unfinished
nests are either rejected, if built early in the breeding
season, or if late, that they are simply the efforts of
that constructive faculty which appears, at this season,

238

Some Foreign Bird Architects.

to have such a powerful effect on this little bird, and
which causes some of them to go on building the long
tubular entrance long after the hen is seated on her
eggs."*

The different species of* Weaver Birds all build
characteristic nests. Thus the Mahali Weaver Bird of
South Africa constructs a wonderfully stout nest of
considerable size, shaped rather like a Florence oil
flask with a shortened wide neck. In weaving this
nest the bird contrives that the ends of all the stout
grass stalks project outwards and point downwards,
so that, although they give a rather rough appearance
to the exterior, they serve very effectively as eaves to
throw off the rain from the nest. Another species
(Ploceus ocularius) weaves a nest that looks like a chem-
ist's retort suspended bulb upwards, and uses in its
construction a very stiff, narrow, and elastic grass, the
stem of which is about the thickness of very fine twine.
Although, as it hangs from the tree, this basket-work
model of an inverted chemist's retort looks a some-
what unsafe home for young restless fledglings, who
might struggle up from the safe recesses of the ex-
panded bulb or take a header down the neck of the
tube, this is not really the case ; for the wise little parent
birds in the process of weaving it have constructed a
kind of partition just where the neck is united to the
bulb, in such a manner as effectually to prevent such
a disaster befalling their offspring.

* Birds of India, Vol. II.

239

CHAPTER XIII.

MAMMAL CRAFTSMEN.

A^IONG the Mammals we shall seek in vain for
that highly skilled craftsmanship which is such
a characteristic feature of Bird and Insect life — that
is, of course, excluding Man from our survey. The
great man-like apes are said to build temporary nests
or arbours among the branches of the trees, but the
statements regarding their appearance and construc-
tion are very conflicting and meagre, and at best
seem chiefly founded on statements made by natives,
always an unreliable source from which to obtain
accurate information. The larger Carnivora have their
lairs or hiding-places, generally caverns, holes in the
ground, or similar situations adapted to their require-
ments, as places of shelter and retreat, or as nurseries
for their young. Of the more remarkable burrows
I have already given one or two examples in Chapter
X., but there are other Mammal craftsmen whose
skill I would briefly refer to here, and who are not only
burrowers in the soil, but often more or less expert
nest-builders.

The graceful, lively little Squirrel of our wood-
lands is quite a skilled architect, building a good-sized
dome-shaped nest either in the fork of a bough high

240

THE NEST OF THE WEAVER BIRD.

One of the most remarkable examples of the art of basket-weaving.

Mammal Craftsmen.

up among the branches or in a hole in a tree. The
material used in its construction consists of slender
twigs, fibres of bark, the slender stems of the Jioney-
suckle, and dry leaves, all carefully interwoven. The
top of the nest is dense and thick so as to keep out the
rain, while inside the nest has a warm, snug bedding
of dry moss and leaves. Lithe and graceful in his
movements, leaping from bough to bough with the
most astonishing ease and lightness, our little brown
friend of the woodland glade presents a most charm-
ing picture; and it is a pity that in the eyes of the
forester he is rather a bad character, for he is said to
do considerable damage in young plantations, by ring-
barking sapling trees, as well as destroying quantities
of buds. He is also given to bird-nesting, I am sorry
to say, and destroys both eggs and recently hatched
nestlings. If taken quite young — that is practically
from the nest — the Squirrel becomes a charming and
amusing pet; though personally I dislike the idea of
caging such an essentially woodland freedom-loving
creature.

Old Squirrels are practically untamable, and it is
a sad sight to see them beating at the bars till their
noses are all seared and bloody in their vain endeavour
to escape. Such an unfortunate I befriended some
years ago, my attention having been drawn to him by
his restless movements in a rusty old cage hanging
outside a shop near St. Martin's Lane, at that time
one of London's great centres for shops providing pet
animals and birds. After some higgling I purchased
the poor beast and brought him home, where he was
given a nice clean cage with a roomy nest-box and

How Animals Work.

plenty of food and water, for a Squirrel loves a drink
of clear water. In the quietude of my study he be-
came less frantic in his efforts to escape, but if any one
approached the cage suddenly he would dash about
and reopen the wound on his nose. However, his
confinement was not to last long, for the following
week I went down to stay for a while in the ,New Forest,
and took Master Squirrel with me. Needless to say,
the noise and bustle of the train journey nearly drove
him frantic, and I thought it best to give him a couple
of days' rest to recover his nerve ere setting him free;
and these two days were devoted on my part to the
careful selection of a suitable and remote spot for his
liberation, for I knew if he was let out in a wood already
the home of several Squirrels, he would probably be
at once attacked as an interloper. A pleasant belt of
woodland, with beech, fir, and oak trees, and a little
tinkling stream running through it, was selected, and
on the third morning we set forth with the cage wrapped
up in a cloth, and Master Squirrel pounding about
excitedly inside. Although nearly ten long years have
passed away since that bright July morning, the scene
comes back to me as vividly as if it were but yester-
day— the sweet hot smell of the heather as we crossed
a stretch of bogland, the fragrance of honeysuckle on
the edge of the wood, and then the quiet peace within,
broken only by the gentle murmur of the soft summer
breeze among the branches and the half-sleepy cooing
of a pair of wood pigeons. Arrived safely, the cage was
set down and the cloth removed. The Squirrel at
first wildly dashed about, startled by his journey and
the removal of the cloth ; then with little hands pressed

242

Mammal Craftsmen.

against the bars of his prison he began to peer eagerly
out at the woodland, looking all round, and at last,
giving vent to the most plaintive cry imaginable, darted
into his nesting-box as if the sight of his natural sur-
roundings and the knowledge that he was a helpless
prisoner in their midst were more than his little heart
could stand. Very gently I opened wide the door of
his cage, and then drew back out of sight behind a con-
venient bush, that I might watch without disturbing
the little creature. Once more he issued from the
nesting-box to explore the bars of his cage in the vain
hope of finding a way of escape. At last he came to
the open door, rested his forefeet on the ledge and
looked out intently, longingly, and again gave the same
plaintive, half -crooning call.

Poor little chap, although standing on the very
threshold of liberty, he had not yet realized it. There
he sat for fully three minutes, his ears pricked and
poor battered nose gently working, sniffing the scents
of the forest ; then he stretched his head forward, and
found no bars in front, or to right or left, or above,
and in a moment he realized his freedom. A little flash
of ruddy brown fur darted from the cage swift and
straight for the nearest tree, up which he sped with
lightning-like rapidity. I think both I and my dear
wife, who had come with me to witness the return to
freedom of our little friend, had rather tight throats
and an unaccountable mistiness of vision for a few
minutes as we softly stole out of the woodland into
the bogland path; but we were a very happy couple
all that glorious long summer day, for we had been
able to give back the joy of life and freedom to one of

243

How Animals Work.

Nature's children. During our stay we twice caught
sight of our Squirrel amongst the branches of the
wood — there was no mistaking the scar upon the bridge
of his nose, which could be plainly seen through our
field glass ; and thrice in the following year I saw
him, only just a furrow across his nose, showing where
the old scar had been. So I hope that in the end he
" married and lived happy ever after," as the story
books of our childhood had it.

The Dormouse, most compact and delightful little
creature, is also a nest-builder. It places its nest either
in a hollow in the ground, low down amidst the branches
of bushes, or now and then in the hollow of a tree stump.
Moss, grass, dry leaves, small twigs, and pine-needles
are the materials used, the Dormouse matting them
together into a neat little globular nest, snug and warm,
within which, coiled up into a ball, it sleeps away the
greater part of the long cold winter months, only rous-
ing up on particularly mild days to eat some of the
little store of food which it had carefully provided
and stowed away in the autumn for winter use. Prob-
ably on account of its more sedentary habits, although
it is lively enough in all conscience during the height
of summer, the Dormouse takes much more kindly to
confinement than the Squirrel ever does, and soon
becomes a wonderfully tame and confiding little pet,
becoming very lively at night. In its natural state,
during the summer months, it is as lively as a cricket
in the evening, but sleeps peacefully in its nest
most of the day. It climbs with wonderful adroit-
ness among the small twigs and branches of shrubs
and small trees, often hanging by its hind feet from

244

Mammal Craftsmen.

a twig to reach a fruit or nut which is otherwise
inaccessible.

The tiny Harvest Mouse is a wonderfully expert
little architect, and provides for its offspring one of
the daintiest cradles formed by any Mammal. The
globular nest is placed, according to the locality, upon
several grass leaves split and interwoven with the other
materials, or suspended at a height of from eighteen
inches to three feet above the ground, upon the twigs
of some shrub, or between the stalks of tall, strong
grasses or corn. It is composed externally of slit leaves
of the reeds or grasses among which it is found, the
little mouse, with the aid of its sharp teeth, carefully
dividing each leaf longitudinally into six or eight
threads, which are then all woven together so as to
produce a wonderfully firm, compact structure. Within,
the nest is stuffed with all sorts of soft plant substances
so closely that one wonders how mother mouse can
find room for housing her youngsters. The completed
nest, about the size of a cricket ball, is really a wonderful
piece of work.

The Musquash, although essentially a burrower,
under certain conditions will construct what is called
a hut to live in. The animal is a native of North
America, being most numerous in Canada and Alaska,
where it frequents the rivers, lakes, and ponds. In
some respects its habits somewhat resemble those of
the beaver, and for this reason it was called the beaver's
little brother by the Indians ; while another popular
name, that of the Musk Rat, it gains from the musk
odour diffused by the secretions of a large gland. The
animal generally lives in a burrow which it digs in the

245

How Animals Work.

bank of the stream or lake it happens to frequent,
consisting of a chamber with numerous passages, all of
which open beneath the surface of the water. Under
certain conditions, however, the Musquash departs
from this rule, and builds for itself a house of a dome-
like shape, composed of sedges and grasses and similar
materials all plastered together with mud, and sup-
ported upon a mud embankment sufficiently high to
raise it well above the water. This house has a single
chamber some sixteen inches to two feet in diameter,
and is entered by a passage which opens beneath the
water. Other passages leading out of this first ex-
cavated gallery are sometimes present, all lead down-
wards and have their openings below the water, and
are said to be made by the animal in its search for the
roots of various aquatic plants upon which it feeds.
Within this house the Musquash passes the winter,
its living room being furnished with a soft bed of leaves
and sedges.

The Beaver was once to be found generally dis-
tributed all over the forest regions of the northern
parts of the Northern Hemisphere ; it ranged over
the whole of Europe, and was an inhabitant of the
British Isles down to about the beginning of the eleventh
century. (Beverstone in Gloucester and Beverley in
Yorkshire are two place names that had their origin
in the presence of the Beaver, just as Brockley and
Brockenhurst tell of the Broc or Badger.) Now, how-
ever, the European Beaver is nearly extinct; and a
similar fate presses hard upon its American brother,
so mercilessly and unceasingly has it been hunted
down and slaughtered for its beautiful coat. The

246

Mammal Craftsmen.

favourite haunt of the Beaver is the banks of some
small stream which has its course through well- wooded
country, especially where the trees are chiefly willows,
birches, and poplars, upon the bark of which it feeds;

Although in populous countries the Beaver is con-
tent to use a long burrow for his home, in the wild
and lonely regions far from the haunt of his cruel foe
Man he builds a most elaborate house or lodge wherein
to dwell. This lodge is a dome-shaped structure,
composed of sticks, grass, and moss, all woven together
and plastered with mud, increasing in size and in the
thickness of its walls year by year as fresh material
is added for repairs. Within this dome-shaped house
is a central chamber with its floor a little above the
level of the water, and with two shafts which have their
outer aperture beneath the water. One of these shafts
is driven at a straight and moderate incline, and it is
up this that the Beavers drag the pieces of wood and
bark that are to be stored within the lodge to form
part at least of the winter food supply ; the other shaft
is more abrupt in its descent, often winding in its
course, and is said to be the usual means of entrance
and exit. Both these passages vary a good deal in
length in different lodges, often being many feet in
length, but they are always very neatly constructed
and finished off. The central chamber varies, of course,
in size, but the larger ones generally measure about
seven or eight feet in diameter and two or three feet in
height ; while the floor is snugly carpeted with grass,
bark, and wood chips.

In some lodges, in addition to this large living
room, and opening out of it, are special storerooms

247

How Animals Work.

which at the approach of autumn are well filled with
a supply of winter fodder. Outside, the whole fabric
measures from twelve to twenty feet in diameter and
some six or eight feet in height. In front of the
lodge, according to Audubon, the Beavers scratch away
the mud of the bottom of the stream until they make
the water of sufficient depth to enable them to float
their pieces of timber to this point, even when the
water is frozen ; and communicating with this a ditch
surrounds the lodge, which is also made so deep that
it will not readily freeze to the bottom. It is into this
ditch or moat, and the deep water in front of the lodge,
that the passages from the living chamber always open,
and thus the Beavers can at any time make their way
out unobserved.

For the building of the lodge, and for food, the
Beavers cut down the trees on the edge of the stream
by the aid of their strong chisel-like teeth. This is
accomplished by gnawing all round the trunk for a
certain distance, and gradually working deeper and
deeper into the substance of the tree in such a manner
that just before its fall the tree stands upon quite a
slender waist of wood, with the trunk both above and
below this tapered off into the form of two cones whose
points are united by the waist. The Beavers work in
such a way as to weaken the side nearest to the water,
so that when the tree falls it descends in that direction.
The tree felled, its trunk and branches are cut up into
lengths of from five to six feet, which, after the bark
has been stripped off and eaten, are employed in the
construction of the lodge, or the formation of the dam
which may be thrown across the stream to keep the

248

Mammal Craftsmen.

water at a given level. These dams are really very
remarkable structures, often of great length, not in-
frequently upwards of one hundred and fifty yards.
They run out across the stream from bank to bank,
either in a straight line or curved in a bow, according
to the character of the stream and the requirements
of the Beavers. Like the lodges, they are composed
of lengths of timber cut from the trunks and branches
of the trees, filled in with smaller sticks, roots, grasses,
and moss, and all plastered with mud and clay in the
most workman-like manner, until the whole structure
is made perfectly water-tight. By means of these
dams the Beavers are able to convert even small rivu-
lets into large pools of water, often many acres in
extent, and dotted about with islands upon which
the lodges are constructed. Thus, all unconsciously,
the Beavers exercise a considerable influence upon
the general aspect of the locality inhabited by them,
which may persist long after they themselves have
disappeared from those regions. By their constant
felling of the trees they gradually produce clearings
in the forest often many acres in extent, and the
lagoon produced by damming back the water becomes
converted into a peat-moss. These peaty Beaver-
meadows, as they are called, are still to be traced in
many countries where the Beaver no longer exists.

249

CHAPTER XIV.

WORKERS IN PLANT TISSUES.

THERE are a large number of insects who are
more or less expert workers in plant tissues,
using these as shelters either for themselves or for
their offspring. As we have already seen, many Wasps
work up fragments of woody tissues into the most
beautiful papery material with which to build their
nests, while the Carpenter Bee excavates galleries
in the stems and branches of trees and shrubs, and
forms therein a series of partitioned chambers, snug,
well-provisioned nurseries for the safe rearing of its
offspring. It is to some distant relations of these
hymenopterous insects that I would now draw your
attention — to those sftiall insects which are only known
to most people by the results of their labours, for the
majority are small enough to escape attention — namely,
the Gall-flies, scientifically known as the Cynipidce.

The Gall-flies are responsible for those many shaped
and often brightly coloured swellings on leaves and
twigs of various trees and plants called galls. The
insects are small, frequently minute in size, and usually
black or blackish brown in colour. The true nature
and origin of the excrescences caused by these flies
was a great puzzle to the ancients, and indeed, although

250

Workers in Plant Tissues.

our knowledge has been considerably advanced, thanks
to the direct observations and experiments of modern
naturalists, there are many points which still remain
obscure. Up to two hundred years ago it was generally
believed that these galls were entirely vegetable pro-
ductions, and that the maggots found in them were
due to spontaneous generation : for it was an article
of universal belief throughout the Middle Ages that
all maggots in general arose from the various organic
substances in which they were found, by means of
that hypothetical process called spontaneous genera-
tion. The great anatomist Malpighi, however, aware
of the unsatisfactory nature of such a belief, began
closely to observe these galls, and his studies were
soon rewarded by indisputable evidence of their origin
being caused by the work of insects — in fact, they arose
from punctures made in the tissues of the plant by the
Gall-fly in the process of depositing her eggs. But
we must not hastily jump to the conclusion that every
gall has been formed through the agency of a Gall-fly,
for there are a great variety of insects, as well as mites,
which form galls upon many plants, and such galls are
often utilized by certain species of Gall-flies, which,
cuckoo-like, deposit their eggs in nests provided by
other insects. Some of the Scale insects of Australia,
for instance, form extremely curious galls on the
eucalyptus trees, which are almost invariably inhabited
by the offspring of these parasitic Gall-flies. To find
out the exact manner in which many of these plant
galls originate, therefore, is by no means easy. Those
found on the oak, and the handsome mossy-looking
bedeguar galls on the wild and cultivated roses, have

251

How Animals Work.

received a great deal of attention, and the Gall-flies
which produce them have been studied and described.
Each species of Gall-fly generally appears to have its
own particular plant to which it always repairs when
on egg-laying intent ; indeed, it is frequently found to
confine its attentions solely to one part of the plant or
tree, as the case may be ; and where a plant is frequented

by more than one species,
it will be found that one
of the Gall-flies deposits
its eggs only in the leaf
tissues, another only in
the tissue of the stalks,
and a third, perhaps, on
the main stem or roots.

One of the best known
of our British galls, the
large and often beauti-
fully coloured one to be
found on both wild and
cultivated rose bushes in
almost any part of the
country, is produced by
the little Rose Gall-fly,
known to science by the name of Rhodites rosce.
Although this gall looks just as if it arose from part
of the stem or twig of the rose bush, it is really a
leaf gall, and the manner of its production is rather
remarkable. The little female Rose Gall-fly in the
spring of the year may often be seen by those who
know her busily engaged in hunting over the rose
bushes seeking a suitable spot for depositing her eggs.

252

Rose Gall.

Workers in Plant Tissues.

The position she always finally selects is a bud, not
a flower-bud, but one that should under ordinary con-
ditions produce a twig and leaves. This bud she
proceeds to prick with her sharp-pointed ovipositor
in three places, in the most systematic manner. The
three spots in the bud selected for piercing by the
Gall-fly are just the three points where the rudiments
of leaves exist, and these, instead of developing into
leaves, by their changed mode of growth give rise to
the bedeguar or gall. Usually this gall is of large size,
handsome in colour, and if cut open will be found to
contain numerous cells, each the nursery of a tiny
larva ; but imperfect specimens are by no means un-
common, such as a small one seated on a full-grown
rose leaf, and these, it is thought, are due to the failure
on the part of the parent insect to complete the prick-
ing operation. These rose galls often contain, in
addition to the rightful inhabitant, other larvae that
have emerged from eggs placed in the tissue of the
perfect gall by one or other of the parasitic Gall-flies.

The oak is a particular favourite with the Gall-
flies, and produces in consequence a number of dif-
ferent shaped galls. On the under surface of the
leaves are to be found quantities of the so-called spangle
galls — oval, flat bodies that in size and shape resemble
the metallic discs called spangles ; the oak apple is
another form familiar to most people ; and a third
type, called currant galls, are equally well known. Ex-
periments carried out with a view to finding out the
particulars of the life history of some of these oak-
frequenting/ Gall-flies have brought to light many
interesting points, and proved beyond doubt that

253

How Animals Work.

in some species a regular alternation of generations
exists. Thus, in Vienna, galls on the oak leaves pro-
duce about the end of April a Gall-fly called Chilaspis
lowii, both male and female insects emerging from
the galls. The fertile females later lay eggs on the
ribs of the leaves of the same kind of oak, but their
work produces a different kind of gall from that in
which they were born. These galls, along with the
leaves, fall from the trees in the autumn, and in July
or August of the following year a Gall-fly emerges from
them. It is quite a different creature in appearance

from the mother, however — so
different, indeed, that before its
life history was known it was
thought to be a totally different
insect, and had received the name
of Chilaspis nitida. Only females
of this form are known to de-
velop, no male having ever been
seen ; and these female Gall-flies,
without any intercourse with a
male, lay their eggs in the young buds of the oak that
are already present in the autumn, and in the follow-
ing spring, when the buds begin to open and leaves
to develop, those that have had an egg laid in them
produce a gall from which true Chilaspis lowii Gall-
flies of both sexes emerge in April and May. The
complete cycle of the two generations therefore extends
over two years, and the generation that occupies the
longest time for its production consists only of females.
In some species in which this alternation of genera-
tion is known to exist, a series of generations com-

254

Workers in Plant Tissues.

posed entirely of females, all similar to one another, are
produced.

From the above necessarily brief outline it will
be seen that these tiny Gall-flies, which by means of
their minute ovipositors are able to pierce the tsssues
of the plants, deposit their eggs beneath the tissues,
and cause those changes which produce such strange
and often beautiful growths, have a most singular and
interesting life history.

There are a large number of Caterpillars which,
from their habit of making their homes in leaves
which they curl up in various ways, are popularly called
Leaf-rollers. They are quite expert little craftsmen
in their own humble fashion, some using a single leaf,
others employing two or more in the construction of
their nest, and all display a wonderful variety in their
manner of accpmplishing the task. Some we find
bend the leaf longitudinally, and are content just to
fasten the two edges together; while others bend it
transversely, fixing the point of the leaf to the middle
vein. Some roll up the leaf longitudinally, so as to
produce a hollow cylinder of the same length as that
of the entire leaf; others roll it transversely, or cut
a slit and roll up only a small portion of the leaf. All
these Caterpillars are very small, and it is really not
by their own strength, but by their mechanical skill,
that they are able to roll up the leaves to form their
homes.

Take, for instance, the little Caterpillar which in
some seasons causes considerable damage to the foliage
of the lilac bushes, and which is only about three-
sixteenths of an inch long. Selecting a point where

255

How Animals Work.

the edge of the leaf has a slight curvation, the tiny
Caterpillar attaches to it a thread formed by the silk
glands in his mouth, and bending his head and the
front part of his body as far as he can reach in the
opposite direction — that is, towards the centre of the
leaf — fixes the other end of his thread to that spot.
Backwards and forwards, from point to point, he swings,
weaving a whole series of strands, so that a little cable
is at last formed which is attached at one end to the
slightly incurved edge of the leaf, and at the other to
a spot on the blade of the leaf. The cable is fairly
taut, but it has not drawn the edge of the leaf inwards,
for the very obvious reason that the little Caterpillar
has not sufficient physical force to haul in the cable
hand over hand. But now the wee insect changes his
position and spinning work, and at once shows him-
self a skilled mechanic, for what he cannot accomplish
by mere " brute strength " he proceeds to accom-
plish by mechanical means. It is obvious that any
pressure exerted on the taut cable would shorten its
length, and drag the curving edge of the leaf inwards ;
and this is precisely what the Caterpillar proceeds to
do, not by placing weights on the cable, but in a much
stronger and more effective manner, by weaving a
series of threads across the cable and at right angles
to it, pressing the end of the cable down with the
weight of his body as he swings his head backwards
and forwards in weaving and fastening down the
transverse strands. Having fixed his last cable in this
way, the little Caterpillar proceeds to attach another
to the margin of the leaf at a short distance from
it, repeating the same process again and again, until

256

Workers in Plant Tissues.

a definite curl to the leaf is obtained. Then the
whole process is started all over again, this time, of
course, one end of the cable being attached to the
crest or top of the curve ; and so, slowly but surely,
the little insect mechanic accomplishes his task, and
rolls up his leaf. Once these labours are completed,
he disappears from view into the very heart of his
rolled-up leaf, there to feast in safety upon its soft
tissues. Broadly speaking, this is the method em-
ployed by all the leaf-rollers, but, as already stated,
the direction of the roll varies considerably.

The little Poplar Leaf Weevil is also an expert
leaf-roller, but as she has no silk wherewith to hold
the curves in position, the task for her is a difficult
and laborious one. Having selected a leaf, the little
Beetle, with the aid of her curious snout, makes a tiny
hole in the stalk, not deep enough to sever it, but suffi-
cient to cause an injury which will upset the regular
flow of the sap fluids, and so cause the leaf to wilt.
It soon begins to droop under its own weight, until
it hangs straight down from the point where the Weevil
made the puncture, and is soon sufficiently limp and
plastic for her purpose. Then she takes up her stand
on the upper surface of the lance-shaped leaf, not at its
tip, but at the edge of the middle of the blade, and with
the aid of her small but strong claws she begins to drag
the edge of the leaf inwards. It is a most laborious
task for the little insect, and not for a moment dare
she relinquish her hold upon the incurving leaf, lest
it spring back and cause her to begin her labours all
over again. Therefore she does not work with great

speed, but slowly, precisely, doggedly. Backwards

How Animals Work.

and forwards she travels, bending and shaping the in-
curving leaf until it is rolled up into a perfectly neat
cylinder, the edges of which are secured by a sticky
cement exuded by little glands which are present along
the edge of the leaf. All this labour has been under-
taken by the little Weevil not for her own benefit,
but to form a safe nursery for her offspring. Within
the folds of each rolled-up leaf she has deposited from
one to four eggs, from which in due course will emerge
the little larvae, who, thus safely hidden from view, will
feed upon the soft tissues of their leafy cradle.

258

INDEX.

AMMOPHILA, 94.
Ant-lion, the, 163.
Ants, 100-121.

, Eciton, or Foraging, HI.

, Mason, 103.

, Satiba, or " Parasol," 109.

, White or Termite, 115-121.

, Wood, 100.

Apes, arbours of, 240.

Atolls, 22.

Australian birds' nests, 210.

BADGER, the, 171.
Basket Argiope, 134.

Worms, 1 60.

Beavers, 246-249.
Bees, Carder, 87.

Carpenter, 86, 250.

Hive, 74-

Leaf-cutting, 84.

Mason, 79-84.

Poppy, 86.

Bird architects, 189.
, foreign, 210.

, diggers and burrowers, 184.

Bobolink, nest of, 235.
Brain corals, 21.
Brick-maker Rotifer, 51.
Bullfinch's nest, 191, 195.
Burrowing Owl, 177.

CADDIS-WORMS, 54.
Calling Crabs, 182.
Cameos, 36.
Carder Bee, 87.
Carpenter Bee, 86, 250.
Caryophyllia Smithii, 18.
Cassique, nest of, 233.
Cataract Bird, nest of, 2x3.

261

Caterpillars, cocoons of, 153 et seq.

, Leaf-rolling, 255.
Caudata, 152.
Chaffinch, nest of, 196.
Chiff-chaff, nest of, 201.
Clams, 30.

Clam shells, giant, 37.
Clothes Moth, caterpillars of, 163.
Cockles, 39.
Cocoons of caterpillars, 153.

of spiders, 149-153.
Conch shells, 36.
Corals, reef -building, 17, 19, ax et stq.

, solitary, 18, 20.

Coral reefs, origin of substratum, 24 et

seq.

Courtiliere, 166.
Cowrie shells, tropical, 34.
Crab tribe, as diggers, 179.
Crabs, Calling, 182.
Crow, nest of, 195, 205.
Cup Coral, 18, 19.

DATE-SHELL, 42.

Devonshire Coral, 18-20.

Dicaoum Swallow, nest of, 2x3, 2x4.

Digging insects, 163 et seq.

Dormouse, 244.

Duck-billed Platypus, 183.

EAR-SHELL, 34.
Eciton Ants, in.
Eumenes, 93.

" FAIRY-LAMP " Spider, 150.
Fairy Martin, nest of, 210.
Fan Sabella. 45-

Fantail, White-shafted, nest of, *ai.
Warbler, nest of, 229.

Index.

Fishes, nest-building, 56-64.
Foraging Ants, in.
Foraminifera, 9, 10 et stq.
Fur Moth, caterpillar of, 162.

GALL-FLIES, 950.
Garden Spider, 129, 133.
Giant Clam, 37.
Globigerina, 13.
Gold Crest, 198.

• , nest of, 200.

" Golden-head " Worm, 49.
Goldfinch, nest of, 196.
Gopher, the, 172.
Gossamer Spiders, 124.
Grallina, Pied, nest of, 219.
Gymnarchus, 60.

HAMSTER, 178.
Hang-nests, nests of, 234.
Harvest Mouse, 245.
Hawfinch, nest of, 195.
Helmet shell, 36.
Heron's nest, 195, 207.
Heterotis, 60.
Hive Bees, 74.
Honey-eaters, nests of, 212.
Horabill, nest of, 226.
House-flies, dangers from, 65.
House Martinis nest, 207.
Humming Birds, nests of, 232-233.
Hunting Spiders, 153.

INSECT builders, social, 65-78.

, solitary, 79-99-

Insects as workers on plant tissues, 250.
Island builders, 17-26.

KINGFISHER, 185.

LACKEY MOTH cocoons, 153.
Ladder-shells, 33,
Leaf-cutting Bees, 84.
Leaf-rolling Caterpillars, 255.
Lima, 28, 38.

MAGPIE, nest of, 203, 206.
Magpie-lark, nest of, 219.
Mallee Bird, nest of, 215.
Mammals, craftsmanship of, 240-249.

Marmot, Alpine, 177,

— , Prairie, 175.
Martin, Fairy, 210.

— , House, nest of, 207, 208.

— , Sand, nest of, 184.
Mason Ants, 103.

Bees, 79-84-

Spiders, 150.

Meadow Pipits, nest of, 196.
Megapoder4iest of, 216.
Melicerta,*5i-53.
Microscopic builders, 9-16.
Mining insects, 163 et seq.
Mole, Common, 168-171.
Mole Cricket, 166.
Mollusca, 28.

Moths, cocoons of, 153 et seq.
Mound Bird, nest of, 215-216.
Mouse, Harvest, 245.
Mullein Moth, cocoon of, 159.
Mushroom corals, 20.
Musk Rat, 245.
Musquash, 245.

NAUTILUS, the, 10, u.
Nest architecture of birds, 189.
, digging, burrowing, and car-
pentry, 184.

Nest-building fishes, 56-64.
Nummulitic limestone, 15.
Nuthatches, British, nest of, 224.
, Syrian, nest of, 224.

OAK-GALLS, 253.

Odynerus, 98.

Oriole, Baltimore, nest of, 234.

, Crested, 235.

, Orchard, nest of, 235.

Ormer, 34.

Ornithorhynchus, 183.
Oven Bird, 221-224.
Owl, Coquimbo, 177.

PARADISE-FISH, 60-62.

Parasol Ants, 108.

Pasteboard Wasps, 74.

" Pelican's Foot " shell, 33.

Pelopaeus, 90.

Pholas, 41.

Piddock, 41?

262

Index.

Pied Grallina, nest of, 219.

Plant tissues, workers in, 250-258.

Platypus Duck-billed, 183.

Pocket-gopher, 172.

Polities Gallica, 72.

Polybta liliacea, 73.

Pond life, 50.

Poplar Leaf Weevil, 257.

Poppy Bees, 86.

Pouched Rat, 172.

Prairie Marmot, 175.

Processionary Moth, caterpillars

153-
Puffin, 1 86.

RADIOLARIA, 16.

Rain-bird, 186.

Rainbow-fish, 62-64.

Rattlesnake, 177.

Razor-shell, 40.

Redpole, Lesser, nest of, 199.

Reed Warbler, nest of, 199.

Reef-building Corals, 17-26.

Reparium, 152.

Ring Dove, nest of, 203.

Rock Dove, nest of, 204.

Warbler, nest of, 213.

Rook's nest, 206.
Rose Gall-fly, 252.
Rotifers, 51.

SAND MARTIN, 184.

Sand-mason Worm, 47.

Saiiba Ants, 109.

Saxicava, 42.

Scale insects, 251.

Scallop-shells, 30, 31.

Screw-shells, 32.

Sea-adder, 59.

Sea-butterfly, 38.

Sericornis, Yellow- throated, 211.

Serpula, 43.

Shell-builders, 27-42.

, bivalve, 32, 37-

-— — , univalve, 32.
Shell-structure, 29.

of Foraminifera, n.
Sheet-weaving Spiders, 139.
Silkworms, 154.
Snap-net Spider, 137.

of,

Social insect builders, 65-78.
Solen, the, 40.
Solitary builders, 79.
Spiders, 123 ft seq.

, Banded, 151.

, Basket Argiope, 134.

, Cocoons, 149-153-

, Gossamer, 124.

, Mason or " Fairy-lamp," 150.

, Orb-weaving, 129, 135.

, Reparium, 152.

, Sheet-weaving, 139.

, Tailed, 152.

, Tarantula, 141.

, Trap-door, 142-149.

, Triangle or Snap-net, 137.

, Water, 139.

, webs, 128.

, Wolf, or Hunting, 153.

Spinners and weavers, 122-162.
Spondylus, 37.
Squirrel, nest of, 241.
Sticklebacks, 56-60.

, Marine, 59-

Stock Dove, nest of, 204.
Stonechat, nest of, 195.
Swallow, Dictum, 213, 214.
Swallow's nest, 207.
Sycamore Moths, cocoons of, 158.

TAILOR BIRD, nest of, 230.
Tarantula, 141.
Termites, 115-121.
Thorny Oyster shell, 37.
Thrush, Song, nest of, 192, 195.
Tiger Beetle larvae, 165.
Tiger Moth, cocoon of, 159.
Tit, Long-tailed, nest of, 197.
Titlark, nest of, 196.
" Top-shells," 33-
Trap-door Spiders, 142-149.
Triangle Spider, 137.
Trochus, 33.
Tube-builders, 43-55.
Turtle Dove, nest of, 203.

WARBLER, Fantail, nest of, 229.
Wasp, Armadillo, 72.
Wasp, Common, 65-70.
, Pasteboard, 74.

263

Index.

Wasp, Polities Gtllica, 72.

, Polybla, 73-

1 Solitary, 79, 89 et seq.

, Wood or Bush, 70-72.

Water Spider, 139.

Weaver Birds, nests of, 234, 235-239.

Weavers and spinners, 122-162.

Weevil, Poplar Leaf, 257.

Wentletraps, 33.

White Ants, 115-121.

Willow Wren, nest of, 201.

Wolf Spiders, 153.

Wood Ants, 100.

Wood Pigeon, nest of, 203.

Wasp, 70-72.

Woodpecker, Green, 186.

, Great Spotted, 188.

, Lesser Spotted, 188.

Wool Moth, caterpillars of, 162.
Worms, Marine tube - building, 43 et
seq.

, Varied-footed, 48.

Wren, nest of, 202.

YAFFLE, 186.

Yellow-throated Sericornis, 211.

THE END,

PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN.

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