Repeating the same process, she gives a fourth and sometimes a fifth coating to her nest, taking care, at the closed end or narrow extremity of the cell, to bend the leaves so as to form a convex termination. Having thus finished a cell, her next business is to fill it, to within half a line of the orifice, with a rose-coloured conserve, composed of honey and pollen, usually collected from the flowers of thistles; and then having deposited her egg, she closes the orifice with three pieces of leaf so exactly circular, that a pair of compa.s.ses could not define their margin with more truth, and coinciding so precisely with the walls of the cell, as to be retained in their situation merely by the nicety of their adaptation. After this covering is fitted in, there remains still a concavity, which receives the convex end of the succeeding cell; and in this manner the indefatigable little animal proceeds until she has completed the six or seven cells composing her cylinder.

The process which one of these bees employs in cutting the pieces of leaf that compose her nest, is worthy of attention. Nothing can be more expeditious; she is not longer about it than we should be with a pair of scissors. After hovering for some moments over a rose bush, as if to reconnoitre the ground, the bee alights upon the leaf which she has selected, usually taking her station upon its edge, so that the margin pa.s.ses between her legs. With her strong mandibles she cuts without intermission in a curve line, so as to detach a triangular portion. When this hangs by the last fibre, lest its weight should carry her to the ground, she balances her little wings for flight, and the very moment it parts from the leaf, flies off with it in triumph; the detached portion remaining bent between her legs in a direction perpendicular to her body.

Thus without rule or compa.s.ses do these diminutive creatures mete out the materials of their work into portions of an ellipse, into ovals or circles, accurately accommodating the dimensions of the several pieces of each figure to each other. What other architect could carry impressed upon the tablet of his memory the entire idea of the edifice which he has to erect, and, dest.i.tute of square or plumb-line, cut out his materials in their exact dimensions without making a single mistake? Yet this is what our little bee invariably does. So far are human art and reason excelled by the teaching of the Almighty.--_Reaum._ vi. 971-94. _Mor. Ap. Angl._ i.

157. _Apis_ c. 2.

A CURIOUS ACCOUNT OF AN IDIOT BOY, AND BEES.--Mr. White has given the following curious account of an idiot boy. From a child he shewed a strong propensity to bees. They were his food, his amus.e.m.e.nt, his sole object. In the winter he dozed away his time in his father's house, by the fire-side, in a torpid state, seldom leaving the chimney-corner: but in summer he was all alert, and in quest of his game. Hive-bees, humble-bees, and wasps, were his prey, wherever he found them. He had no apprehension from their stings, but would seize them with naked hands, and at once disarm them of their weapons, and suck their bodies for the sake of their honey-bags.

Sometimes he would fill his bosom between his shirt and skin with these insects; and sometimes he endeavoured to confine them in bottles. He was very injurious to men that kept bees, for he would glide into their bee-gardens, and, sitting down before the stools, would rap with his fingers, and so take the bees as they came out. He has even been known to overturn the hives for the sake of the honey, of which he was pa.s.sionately fond. Where metheglin was making, he would linger round the tubs and vessels, begging a draught of what he called bee-wine. As he ran about, he used to make a humming noise with his lips, resembling the buzzing of bees. This lad was lean and sallow, and of a cadaverous complexion; and, except in his favourite pursuit, in which he was wonderfully adroit, discovered no manner of understanding. Had his capacity been better, and directed to the same object, he had perhaps abated much of our wonder at the feats of a more modern exhibiter of bees; and we may justly say of him now,

--------------------------Thou Had thy presiding star propitious Shouldst Wildman be.

_White's Natural History._

We conclude this chapter with an explanation of the preceding lines.

MR. WILDMAN'S CURIOUS EXHIBITIONS OF BEES.--Mr. Wildman, by his dexterity in the management of bees, some years ago, surprised the whole kingdom.

He caused swarms to light where he pleased, almost instantaneously; he ordered them to settle on his head, then removed them to his hand, and commanded them to settle on a window, table, &c. at pleasure. We subjoin the method of performing these feats, in his own words: "Long experience has taught me, that as soon as I turn up a hive, and give it some taps on the sides and bottom, the queen immediately appears, to know the cause of this alarm; but soon retires again among her people. Being accustomed to see her so often, I readily perceive her at first glance; and long practice has enabled me to seize her instantly, with a tenderness that does not in the least endanger her person. This is of the utmost importance; for the least injury done to her brings immediate destruction to the hive, if you have not a spare queen to put in her place, as I have too often experienced in my first attempts. When possessed of her, I can, without injury to her, or exciting that degree of resentment that may tempt her to sting me, slip her into my other hand, and, returning the hive to its place, hold her there, till the bees missing her, are all on wing, and in the utmost confusion. When the bees are thus distressed, I place the queen wherever I would have the bees to settle. The moment a few of them discover her, they give notice to those near them, and those to the rest; the knowledge of which becomes so general, that in a few minutes they all collect themselves round her, and are so happy in having recovered this sole support of their state, that they will long remain quiet in their situation: nay, the scent of her body is so attractive of them, that the slightest touch of her along any place or substance, will attach the bees to it, and induce them to any path she takes."--This was the only witchcraft used by Mr. Wildman, and is that alone which is practised by others, who have since made similar exhibitions.

CHAP. XXIV.

CURIOSITIES RESPECTING INSECTS.--(_Continued._)

_The Wasp._

The laws of life, why need I call to mind, Obey'd by insects, too, of ev'ry kind!

Of these, none uncontroll'd and lawless rove, But to some destin'd end spontaneous move: Led by that instinct Heav'n itself inspires, Or so much reason as their state requires.

See all with skill acquire their daily food, All use those arms which nature has bestow'd; Produce their tender progeny, and feed With care parental, while that care they need.

In these lov'd offices completely blest, No hopes beyond them, nor vain fears molest.

_Jenyns._

For the following account of the WASP, we are indebted to Kirby and Spence; and we take this opportunity of making a general acknowledgment of our obligations to those gentlemen, for the a.s.sistance we have derived from their highly interesting treatise, in drawing up this account of the curiosities respecting insects.

Compared with hive-bees, wasps may be considered as a horde of thieves and brigands: while the bees are peaceful, honest, and industrious subjects; the wasps attack their persons, and plunder their property. Yet, with all this love of pillage and other bad propensities, they are not altogether disagreeable or unamiable; they are brisk and lively; they do not usually attack unprovoked; and their object in plundering us is not purely selfish, but is princ.i.p.ally to provide for the support of the young brood of their colonies.

The societies of wasps, like those of ants, and other social _Hymenoptera_, consist of females, males, and workers. The females may be considered as of two sorts: first, the females, by way of eminence, are much larger than any other individuals of the community; they equal six of the workers (from which in other respects they do not materially differ) in weight, and lay both male and female eggs: then the small females, not larger than the workers, which lay only male eggs. This last description of females, which are found also both amongst the humble-bees and hive-bees, were first observed among wasps, by M. Perrot, a friend of Huber's. The large females are produced later than the workers, and make their appearance in the next spring; and whoever then destroys one of them, destroys an entire colony, of which she would be the founder.

Different from the queen-bee, the female wasp is at first an insulated being, that has had the fortune to survive the rigours of winter. When in the spring she lays the foundation of her future empire, she has not a single worker at her disposal; with her own hands and teeth she often hollows out a cave wherein she may lay the first foundations of her paper metropolis: she must herself build the first houses, and produce from her own body their first inhabitants; which in their infant state she must feed and educate, before they can a.s.sist her in her great design. At length she receives the reward of her perseverance and labour; and from being a solitary unconnected individual, in the autumn is enabled to rival the queen of the hive in the number of her children and subjects, and in the edifices which they inhabit--the number of cells in a vespiary sometimes amounting to more than sixteen thousand, almost all of which contain either an egg, a grub, or a pupa, and each cell serving for three generations in a year; which, after making every allowance for failures and other casualties, will give a population of at least thirty thousand.

Even at this time, when she has so numerous an army of coadjutors, the industry of this creature does not cease, but she continues to set an example of diligence to the rest of the community. If by any accident, before the other females are hatched, the queen-mother perishes, the neuters cease their labours, lose their instincts, and die.

The number of females in a populous vespiary is considerable, amounting to several hundreds; they emerge from the pupa about the latter end of August, at the same time with the males, and fly in September and October, when they pair. Of this large number of females, very few survive the winter. Those that are so fortunate, remain torpid till the vernal sun recalls them to life and action. They then fly forth, collect provision for their young brood, and are engaged in the other labours necessary for laying the foundation of their empire; but in the summer months they are never seen out of the nest.

The male wasps are much smaller than the female, but they weigh as much as two workers. Their antennae are longer than those of either, not, like theirs, thicker at the end, but perfectly filiform; and their abdomen is distinguished by an additional segment. Their numbers about equal those of the females, and they are produced at the same time. They are not so wholly given to pleasure and idleness as the drones of the hive. They do not, indeed, a.s.sist in building the nest, and in the care of the young brood; but they are the scavengers of the community, for they sweep the pa.s.sages and streets, and carry off all the filth. They also remove the bodies of the dead, which are sometimes heavy burdens for them; in which case two unite their strength, to accomplish the work; or, if a partner be not at hand, the wasp thus employed cuts off the head of the defunct, and so effects its purpose. As they make themselves so useful, they are not, like the male bees, devoted by the workers to an universal ma.s.sacre when the great end of their creation is answered; but they share the general lot of the community, and are suffered to survive till the cold cuts off them and the workers together.

The workers are the most numerous, and to us the only troublesome part of the community; upon whom devolves the main business of the nest. In the summer and autumnal months they go forth by myriads into the neighbouring country to collect provisions; and on their return to the common den, after reserving a sufficiency for the nutriment of the young brood, they divide the spoil with great impartiality; part being given to the females, part to the males, and part to those workers that have been engaged in extending and fortifying the vespiary. This division is voluntarily made, without the slightest symptom of compulsion. Several wasps a.s.semble round each of the returning workers, and receive their respective portions. It is curious and interesting to observe their motions on this occasion. As soon as a wasp that has been filling itself with the juice of fruits arrives at the nest, it perches upon the top, and, disgorging a drop of its saccharine fluid, is attended sometimes by two at once, who share the treasure; this being thus distributed, a second, and sometimes a third drop, is produced, which falls to the lot of others.

Wasps, though ferocious and cruel towards their fellow-insects, are civilized and polished in their intercourse with each other, and form a community whose architectural labours will not suffer on comparison even with those of the peaceful inhabitants of a bee-hive. Like these, the great object of their industry is the erection of a structure for their beloved progeny, towards which they discover the greatest affection and tenderness, and, like bees, construct combs consisting of hexagonal cells for their reception; but the substance which they make use of is very dissimilar to the wax employed by bees, and the general plan of their city differs in many respects from that of a bee-hive. The common wasp's nest, usually situated in a cavity under ground, is of an oval figure, about sixteen or eighteen inches long, by twelve or thirteen broad. Externally, it is surrounded by a thick coating of numerous leaves of a sort of grayish paper, which do not touch each other, but have a small interval between each, so that if the rain should chance to penetrate one or two of them, its progress is speedily arrested. On removing this external covering, we perceive that the interior consists of from twelve to sixteen circular combs of different sizes, not ranged vertically, as in a bee-hive, but horizontally, so as to form so many distinct and parallel stories. Each comb is composed of a numerous a.s.sembiage of hexagonal cells, formed of the same paper-like substance as the exterior covering of the nest, and, according to a discovery of Dr. Barclay, each, as in those of bees, a distinct cell, the part.i.tion walls being double.--_Memoirs of the Wernerian Society_, ii. 260. These cells, which, as wasps do not store up any food, serve merely as the habitations of their young, are not, like those of the honey-bee, arranged in two opposite layers, but in one only, their entrance being always downwards: consequently the upper part of the comb, composed of the bases of the cells, which are not pyramidal, but slightly convex, forms a nearly level floor, on which the inhabitants can conveniently pa.s.s and repa.s.s, s.p.a.ces of about half an inch high being left between each comb. Although the combs are fixed to the sides of the nest, they would not be sufficiently strong without further support. The ingenious builders, therefore, connect each comb to that below it by a number of strong cylindrical columns or pillars, having, according to the rules of architecture, their base and capital wider than the shaft, and composed of the same paper-like material used in other parts of the nest, but of a more compact substance. The middle combs are connected by a rustic colonnade of from forty to fifty of these pillars; the upper and lower combs by a smaller number.

The cells are of different sizes, corresponding to that of the three orders of individuals which compose the community; the largest for the grubs of females, the smallest for those of workers. The last always occupy an entire comb, while the cells of the males and females are often intermixed. Besides openings which are left between the walls of the combs to admit of access from one to the other, there are at the bottom of each nest two holes, by one of which the wasps uniformly enter, and through the other issue from the nest, and thus avoid all confusion or interruption of their common labours. As the nest is often a foot and a half under ground, it is requisite that a covered way should lead to its entrance. This is excavated by the wasps, who are excellent miners, and is often very long and tortuous, forming a beaten road to the subterranean city, well known to the inhabitants, though its entrance is concealed from curious eyes.

The cavity itself, which contains the nest, is either the abandoned habitation of moles or field-mice, or a cavern purposely dug out by the wasps, which exert themselves with such industry as to accomplish the arduous undertaking in a few days.

When the cavity and entrance to it are completed, the next part of the process is to lay the foundations of the city to be included in it, which, contrary to the usual customs of builders, wasps begin at the top, continuing downwards. It has already been observed, that the coatings which compose the dome, are a sort of rough but thin paper, and that the rest of the nest is composed of the same substance variously applied.

"Whence do the wasps derive it?" They are manufacturers of the article, and prepare it from a material even more singular than any of those which have of late been proposed for this purpose; namely, the fibres of wood.

These they detach by means of their jaws from window-frames, posts, and rails, &c. and, when they have ama.s.sed a heap of the filaments, moisten the whole with a few drops of a viscid glue from their mouth, and, kneading it with their jaws into a sort of paste, or _papier mache_, fly off with it to their nest. This ductile ma.s.s they attach to that part of the building upon which they are at work, walking backwards, and spreading it into laminae of the requisite thinness by means of their jaws, tongue, and legs. This operation is repeated several times, until at length, by aid of fresh supplies of the material, and the combined exertions of so many workmen, the proper number of layers of paper, that are to compose the roof, is finished. This paper is as thin as the leaf you are reading; and you may form an idea of the labour which even the exterior of a wasp's nest requires, on being told that no fewer than fifteen or sixteen sheets of it are usually placed above each other, with slight intervening s.p.a.ces, making the whole upwards of an inch and a half in thickness. When the dome is completed, the uppermost comb is next begun, in which, as well as all the other parts of the building, precisely the same material and the same process, with little variation, are employed. In the structure of the connecting pillars, there seems a greater quant.i.ty of glue made use of than in the rest of the work, doubtless with the view of giving them superior solidity. When the first comb is finished, the continuation of the roof or walls of the building is brought down lower; a new comb is erected; and thus the work successively proceeds until the whole is finished. As a comparatively small proportion of the society is engaged in constructing the nest, its entire completion is the work of several months: yet, though the fruit of such severe labour, it has scarcely been finished a few weeks before winter comes on, when it merely serves for the abode of a few benumbed females, and is entirely abandoned at the approach of spring, as wasps are never known to use the same nest for more than one season.

There is good reason for thinking, and the opinion had the sanction of the late Sir Joseph Banks, that wasps have sentinels placed at the entrances of their nests, which, if you can once seize and destroy, the remainder will not attack you. This is confirmed by an observation of Mr. Knight, in the Philosophical Transactions, (vol. 1. 2d Ed. p. 505;) that if a nest of wasps be approached without alarming the inhabitants, and all communication be suddenly cut off between those out of the nest and those within it, no provocation will induce the former to defend it and themselves. But if one escapes from within, it comes with a very different temper, and appears commissioned to avenge public wrongs, and prepared to sacrifice its life in the execution of its orders. He discovered this when quite a boy.

In October, wasps seem to become less savage and sanguinary; for even flies, of which, earlier in the summer, they are the pitiless destroyers, may be seen to enter their nests with impunity. It is then, probably, that they begin to be first affected by the approach of the cold season, when nature teaches them it is useless longer to attend to their young. They themselves all perish, except a few of the females, upon the first attack of frost.

Reaumur, from whom most of these observations are taken, put the nests of wasps under gla.s.s hives, and succeeded so effectually in reconciling these little restless creatures to them, that they carried on their various works under his eye.

CHAP. XXV.

CURIOSITIES RESPECTING INSECTS.--(_Continued._)

_Ants--White Ants--Green Ants--Visiting Ants--The Ant-Lion._

These emmets, how little they are in our eyes!

We tread them to dust, and a troop of them dies Without our regard or concern: Yet, as wise as we are, if we went to their school, There's many a sluggard, and many a fool, A lesson of wisdom might learn.

_Watts._

The societies of ANTS, as also of other _Hymenoptera_, differ from those of the Termites, in having inactive larvae and pupae, the neuter, or workers, combining in themselves both the military and civil functions.

Besides the helpless larvae and pupae, which have no locomotive powers, these societies consist of females and workers. The office of the females, at their first exclusion distinguished by a pair of ample wings, (which however, they soon cast,) is the foundation of new colonies, and the furnishing of a constant supply of eggs, for the maintenance of the population in the old nests, as well as in the new. These are usually the least numerous part of the community.

Gould indeed says, that the males and females are nearly equal in number, p. 62; but from Huber's observations it seems to follow that the former are the most numerous, p. 96.

Upon the workers devolves, except in nascent colonies, all the work, as well as the defence of the community, of which they are the most numerous portion.

In the warm days that occur from the end of July to the beginning of September, and sometimes later, the habitations of the various species of ants may be seen to swarm with winged insects, which are the males and females, preparing to quit for ever the scene of their nativity and education. Every thing is in motion: and the silver wings, contrasted with the jet bodies which compose the animated ma.s.s, add a degree of splendour to the interesting scene. The bustle increases, till at length the males rise, as it were by a general impulse, into the air, and the females accompany them. The whole swarm alternately rises and falls with a slow movement to the height of about ten feet, the males flying obliquely with a rapid zigzag motion; and the females, though they follow the general movement of the column, appearing suspended in the air, like balloons, seemingly with no individual motion, and having their heads turned towards the wind.

Sometimes the swarms of a whole district unite their infinite myriads, and, seen at a distance, produce an effect resembling the flashing of an aurora borealis. Rising with incredible velocity in distinct columns, they soar above the clouds. Each column looks like a kind of slender net-work, and has a tremulous undulating motion, which has been observed to be produced by the regular alternate rising and falling just alluded to. The noise emitted by myriads and myriads of these creatures, does not exceed the hum of a single wasp. The slightest zephyr disperses them; and if in their progress they chance to be over your head, if you walk slowly on, they will accompany you, and regulate their motions by yours.

Captain Haverfield, R. N. gives an account of an extraordinary appearance of ants observed by him in the Medway, in the autumn of 1814, when he was first-lieutenant of the Clorinde; which is confirmed by the following letter, addressed by the surgeon of that ship, now Dr. Bromley, to Mr. Mac Leay.

"In September, 1814, being on the deck of the bulk to the Clorinde, my attention was drawn to the water by the first-lieutenant (Haverfield) observing there was something black floating down with the tide. On looking with a gla.s.s, I discovered they were insects. The boat was sent, and brought a bucket full of them on board; they proved to be a large species of ant, and extended from the upper part of Salt-pan Reach out towards the Great Nore, a distance of five or six miles. The column appeared to be in breadth eight or ten feet, and in height about six inches, which I suppose must have been from their resting one upon another." Purchas seems to have witnessed a similar phenomenon on sh.o.r.e.

"Other sorts (of ants)," says he, "there are many, of which some become winged, and fill the air with swarms, which sometimes happens in England.

On Bartholomew-day, 1613, I was in the island of Foulness, on our Ess.e.x sh.o.r.e, where were such clouds of these flying pismires, that we could no where flee from them, but they filled our clothes; yea, the floors of some houses where they fell were in a manner covered with a black carpet of creeping ants; which, they say, drown themselves about that time of the year in the sea."--_Pilgrimage_, 1090. These ants were winged; but whence this immense column came, was not ascertained. From the numbers here acc.u.mulated, one would think that all the ant-hills of the counties of Kent and Surrey could scarcely have furnished a sufficient number of males and females to form it.

When Colonel Sir Augustus Frazer, of the Horse Artillery, was surveying, on the 6th of October, 1813, the scene of the battle of the Pyrenees, from the summit of the mountain called Pena de Aya, or Les Quatre Couronnes, he and his friends were enveloped with a swarm of ants, so numerous as entirely to intercept their view, so that they were glad to remove to another station, in order to get rid of these troublesome little creatures.

The females that escape from the injury of the elements and their various enemies, become the founders of new colonies, doing all the work that is usually done by the neuters. M. P. Huber has found incipient colonies,[11]

in which were only a few workers engaged with their mother in the care of a small number of larvae; and M. Perrot, his friend, once discovered a small nest, occupied by a solitary female, who was attending upon four pupa only. Such is the foundation and first establishment of those populous nations of ants with which we every where meet.