An European species of this genus, which is called Scolia flavifrons, is remarkable for the four large, round spots on the upper surface of the abdomen. This species always feeds its young on the grub of a beetle, one of the lamellicorn group, and in this case the grub is so large that one is sufficient.
In the illustration, the left hand figure shows a section of the burrow of Scolia Xantiana, and exhibits the enlarged portion of the tunnel in which are placed the young Scolia and the unfortunate grub which has to serve it for food. The insect itself is seen in the centre.
For figures 3 and 4 the reader is referred to the heading “Spiders.”
There is another British insect which feeds its young with flies, and which catches them in a manner somewhat similar to that which has recently been narrated when treating of the Mellinus. The insect in question is called Oxybelus unuglumis, and is a very pretty species. Its length is seldom much more than a quarter of an inch, and its colour is black, with some silvery hair about the face, and with some spots and bands of white, more or less yellowish, upon the pointed abdomen. The male is usually smaller than the female, but compensates for this want of size by his more brilliant colouring.
Mr. F. Smith has described to me the method employed by this insect in catching flies. In the air it would not have a chance of success, and so it proceeds after a fashion very much like that which is adopted by the hunting-spider. Choosing some spot where flies are likely to settle, such as a bare, sunny bank, the Oxybelus alights upon it and begins to run about without any apparent motive. At first the flies are rather alarmed, but after a while they become accustomed to the rapid movements of their foe, and allow it to come nearer and nearer the cause of its perambulations. As soon as it has succeeded in drawing within a few inches of a fly, the Oxybelus leaps upon it, just like the hunting spider on its prey, and flies off before the victim knows that an attack is even meditated.
The burrow of this species is made in hard white sand.
Several species of the genus Cerceris are noted, not only as burrowers, but for the exceeding variety of the food which they store in their dwellings. The most common species, Cerceris arenaria, makes its tunnel in hard, sandy spots, and is usually to be found about the middle of July and August. The length of this insect rather exceeds half an inch, and its colour is black, profusely spotted and barred with yellow. It is rather slenderly made, and gives little external indications of the great strength which it possesses.
This insect prefers to stock its nest with weevils of different kinds—a most singular choice, when the hardness of the exterior is taken into consideration. The well-known nut-weevil (Balaninus nucum), with its hard, round body, and long mouth, is frequently taken by this species of Cerceris, and Mr. Smith further mentions that he has captured it in the act of taking the weevil called Otiorhynchus sulcatus to its nest.
This beetle is among the most noxious of our garden foes, and the more so because its ravages are unseen. In its larval state it infests the roots of many of our succulent plants and flowers, and has a habit of eating away the plant just at the junction of the root and stem. Even flowers in pots are apt to be infested by this insect, and often die without the cause of their death being discovered. It is about half an inch in length, white, and is destitute of feet, their office being performed by bundles of stiff hairs, which are dispersed round the body.
In its perfect state it is about the third of an inch in length, the colour is black, covered with a coating of very fine and short grey hairs, and along its back are a number of short longitudinal grooves. From this latter circumstance it derives its name of “sulcatus,” or grooved.
The exterior of this beetle is extremely hard, even exceptionally so among the hard-bodied weevils. It is extremely difficult to get a pin through the body, and the entomologist is often obliged to bore a hole with a stout needle before the pin can be inserted. Yet, the Cerceris uses this insect as the food of its young, and stores them away in its burrow. That the young should eat them seems as impossible as if a lobster or a box-tortoise had been inserted in their place. It is, however, thought by most practical entomologists that the shell of the weevil is softened by lying in the damp ground, and that as the young is not hatched for several days after the burrow is sealed up, the hard wing cases have time to soften.
Another species of the same genus, Cerceris interrupta, has the curious habit of making its burrow in the hardest ground which it can penetrate, and is generally to be found in well used footpaths. This species also uses weevils for the food of its young, but prefers those small weevils which are classed under the genus Apion, and which are readily known by their pear-shaped bodies and rather elongated heads. [There are about seventy species of Apion, so that the Cerceris has plenty of choice.]
Mason-Bees.
It would not be easy to find a more simple, and, at the same time, ingenious specimen of insect architecture than the nests of those species of solitary bees which have been justly called mason-bees (Megachile, Latreille). Réaumur, who was struck by the analogies between the proceedings of insects and human arts, first gave to bees, wasps, and caterpillars those names which indicate the character of their labours; and which, though they may be considered a little fanciful, are at least calculated to arrest the attention. The nests of mason-bees are constructed of various materials; some with sand, some with earth mixed with chalk, and some with a mixture of earthy substances and wood.
On the north-east wall of Greenwich Park, facing the road, and about four feet from the ground, we discovered (J. R.), December 10th, 1828, the nest of a mason-bee, formed in the perpendicular line of cement between two bricks. Externally there was an irregular cake of dry mud, precisely as if a handful of wet road-stuff had been taken from a cart-rut and thrown against the wall; though, upon closer inspection, the cake contained more small stones than usually occur in the mud of the adjacent cart-ruts. We should in fact have passed it by without notice had there not been a circular hole on one side of it, indicating the perforation of some insect. This hole was found to be the orifice of a cell about an inch deep, exactly of the form and size of a lady’s thimble, finely polished, and of the colour of plaster-of-paris, but stained in various places with yellow.
This cell was empty; but, upon removing the cake of mud, we discovered another cell, separated from the former by a partition about a quarter of an inch thick, and in it a living bee, from which the preceding figure was drawn, and which, as we supposed, had just changed from the pupa to the winged state, in consequence of the uncommon mildness of the weather. The one which had occupied the adjacent cell had no doubt already dug its way out of its prison, and would probably fall a victim to the first frost.
Our nest contained only two cells—perhaps from there not being room between the bricks for more.
[There are only four British species of this genus. One species, A. acervorum, seems perfectly indifferent whether it burrows into banks or into the mortar of old walls. If possible, the former locality seems to be the most favoured.
This species is notable for the many parasites who infect the habitation and destroy the inmates. Perhaps the very worst and most destructive of these parasites is the common earwig, which wreaks wholesale desolation in the nest. It creeps into the burrow, and if it finds a store of pollen laid up for the young, it will eat the pollen. But if the young grub be hatched it will eat the grub. If the inmate be in the pupal state, or even if it be ready to emerge in its perfect condition, the earwig will eat it.
There are two bees which are parasitic upon this unfortunate insect, both belonging the genus Melecta.
But the most destructive of these parasites appears to be an insect which belongs to the great family of Chalcididæ. These insects are of the hymenopterous order, are of very minute dimensions, and of the most brilliant colours. Indeed, if they were an inch or two in length, instead of the eighth or twelfth of an inch, they would not suffer in comparison with the most gorgeous inhabitants of tropical countries.
Their forms are most eccentric, some species having the abdomen small and round and set on a long footstalk, while others have that portion of the body placed so closely against the thorax, that the short footstalk is scarcely visible. Others have certain joints of the legs so large that a single joint equals the entire abdomen. Some have the ovipositor projecting boldly from the body, while others have it tucked up underneath, and others again have it quite short. But there is one point which distinguishes them all, namely, the almost veinless character of the wings.
Some of the Chalcididæ are parasitic upon insects in their earliest stages, actually depositing their eggs in those of moths and butterflies. Others are entirely parasitic upon parasites, laying their eggs in the aphidii, which are parasites of the aphis. Some of them haunt the galls, and contrive to make their young parasitic upon the immature cynipidæ which lie within the gall. The common small tortoise-shell butterfly is terribly infested with these little creatures, and we have bred hundreds of the gem-like Chalcididæ from the larvæ and pupæ of that butterfly.
One of the Chalcididæ, belonging to the genus Melittobia, is a parasite upon the Anthophora; and the curious part of the proceeding is, that it finds there another parasite, which becomes developed in the home of the bee: the Melittobia feeds indiscriminately upon the bee and parasite.
Although the Melittobia does not make such wholesale destruction as is wrought by the earwig when it gets into a nest, it does more damage to the bee, on account of its great numbers. Some three or four females will lay a great quantity of eggs within a nest, and from those eggs a hundred of the young will be developed. When the larvæ are fully grown, they quit their hold of their prey, and fall to the bottom of the cell, where they lie until they have assumed the perfect form. They then burst forth, together with those of the bee that may have escaped their attacks.]
An interesting account is given by Réaumur of another mason-bee (Megachile muraria), not a native of Britain, selecting earthy sand, grain by grain; her glueing a mass of these together with saliva, and building with them her cells from the foundation. But the cells of the Greenwich Park nest were apparently composed of the mortar of the brick wall; though the external covering seems to have been constructed as Réaumur describes his nest, with the occasional addition of small stones.
About the middle of May, 1829, we discovered the mine from which all the various species of mason-bees in the vicinity seemed to derive materials for their nests. (J. R.) It was a bank of brown clay, facing the east, and close by the margin of the river Ravensbourn, at Lee, in Kent. The frequent resort of the bees to this spot attracted the attention of some workmen, who, deceived by their resemblance to wasps, pointed it out as a wasps’ nest; though they were not a little surprised to see so numerous a colony at this early season. As the bees had dug a hole in the bank, where they were incessantly entering and reappearing, we were of opinion that they were a peculiar sort of the social earth-bees (Bombi). On approaching the spot, however, we remarked that the bees were not alarmed, and manifested none of the irritation usual in such cases, the consequence of jealous affection for their young. This led us to observe their operations more minutely; and we soon discovered that on issuing from the hole each bee carried out in its mandibles a piece of clay. Still supposing that they were social earth-bees, we concluded that they were busy excavating a hollow for their nest, and carrying off the refuse to prevent discovery. The mouth of the hole was overhung, and partly concealed, by a large pebble. This we removed, and widened the entrance of the hole, intending to dig down and ascertain the state of the operations; but we soon found that it was of small depth. The bees, being scared away, began scooping out clay from another hole about a yard distant from the first. Upon our withdrawing a few feet from the first hole, they returned thither in preference, and continued assiduously digging and removing the clay. It became obvious, therefore, from their thus changing place, that they were not constructing a nest, but merely quarrying for clay as a building material. By catching one of the bees (Osmia bicornis) when it was loaded with its burden, we ascertained that the clay was not only carefully kneaded, but was also more moist than the mass from which it had been taken. The bee, therefore, in preparing the pellet, which was nearly as large as a garden-pea, had moistened it with its saliva, or some similar fluid, to render it, we may suppose, more tenacious, and better fitted for building. The reason of their digging a hole, instead of taking clay indiscriminately from the bank, appeared to be for the purpose of economizing their saliva, as the weather was dry, and the clay at the surface was parched and hard. It must have been this circumstance which induced them to prefer digging a hole, as it were, in concert, though each of them had to build a separate nest.
The distance to which they carried the clay was probably considerable, as there was no wall near, in the direction they all flew towards, upon which they could build; and in the same direction also, it is worthy of remark, they could have procured much nearer the very same sort of clay. Whatever might be the cause of their preference, we could not but admire their extraordinary industry. It did not require more than half a minute to knead one of the pellets of clay; and, from their frequent returns, probably not more than five minutes to carry it to the nest, and apply it where wanted. From the dryness of the weather, indeed, it was indispensable for them to work rapidly, otherwise the clay could not have been made to hold together. The extent of the whole labour of forming a single nest may be imagined, if we estimate that it must take several hundred pellets of clay for its completion. If a bee work fourteen or fifteen hours a-day, therefore, carrying ten or twelve pellets to its nest every hour, it will be able to finish the structure in about two or three days; allowing some hours of extra time for the more nice workmanship of the cells in which the eggs are to be deposited, and the young grubs reared.
That the construction of such a nest is not a merely agreeable exercise to the mason-bee has been sufficiently proved by M. Du Hamel. He has observed a bee (Megachile muraria) less careful to perform the necessary labour for the protection of her offspring than those we have described, but not less desirous of obtaining this protection, attempt to usurp the nest which another had formed. A fierce battle was invariably the consequence of this attempt; for the true mistress would never give place to the intruder. The motive for the injustice and the resistance was an indisposition to further labour. The trial of strength was probably, sometimes, of as little use in establishing the right as it is amongst mankind; and the proper owner, exhausted by her efforts, had doubtless often to surrender to the dishonest usurper.
The account which Réaumur has given of the operations of this class of bees differs considerably from that which we have here detailed; from the species being different, or from his bees not having been able to procure moist clay. On the contrary, sand was the chief material used by the mason-bees (Megachile muraria); which they had the patience to select from the walks of a garden, and knead into a paste or mortar, adapted to their building. They had consequently to expend a much greater quantity of saliva than our bees (Osmia bicornis), which worked with moist clay. Réaumur, indeed, ascertained that every individual grain of sand is moistened previous to its being joined to the pellet, in order to make it adhere more effectually. The tenacity of the mass is, besides, rendered stronger, he tells us, by adding a proportion of earth or garden-mould. In this manner, a ball of mortar is formed, about the size of a small shot, and carried off to the nest. When the structure of this is examined, it has all the appearance externally of being composed of earth and small stones or gravel. The ancients, who were by no means accurate naturalists, having observed bees carrying pellets of earth and small stones, supposed that they employed these to add to their weight, in order to steady their flight when impeded by the wind.
The nests thus constructed appear to have been more durable edifices than those which have fallen under our observation;—for Réaumur says they were harder than many sorts of stone, and could scarcely be penetrated with a knife. Ours, on the contrary, do not seem harder than a piece of sun-baked clay, and by no means so hard as brick. One circumstance appeared inexplicable to Réaumur and his friend Du Hamel, who studied the operations of these insects in concert. After taking a portion of sand from one part of the garden-walk, the bees usually took another portion from a spot almost twenty and sometimes a hundred paces off, though the sand, so far as could be judged by close examination, was precisely the same in the two places. We should be disposed to refer this more to the restless character of the insect than to any difference in the sand. We have observed a wasp paring the outside of a plank, for materials to form its nest; and though the plank was as uniform in the qualities of its surface, nay, probably more so than the sand could be, the wasp fidgeted about, nibbling a fibre from one, and a fibre from another portion, till enough was procured for one load. In the same way, the whole tribe of wasps and bees flit restlessly from flower to flower, not unfrequently revisiting the same blossom, again and again, within a few seconds. It appears to us, indeed, to be far from improbable, that this very restlessness and irritability may be one of the springs of their unceasing industry.
By observing, with some care, the bees which we found digging the clay, we discovered one of them (Osmia bicornis) at work upon a nest, about a gunshot from the bank. The place it had chosen was the inner wall of a coal-house, facing the south-west, the brick-work of which was but roughly finished. In an upright interstice of half an inch in width, between two of the bricks, we found the little architect assiduously building its walls. The bricklayer’s mortar had either partly fallen out, or been removed by the bee, who had commenced building at the lower end, and did not build downwards, as the social wasps construct their cells.
The very different behaviour of the insect here, and at the quarry, struck us as not a little remarkable. When digging and preparing the clay, our approach, however near, produced no alarm; the work went on as if we had been at a distance; and though we were standing close to the hole, this did not scare away any of the bees upon their arrival to procure a fresh load. But if we stood near the nest, or even in the way by which the bee flew to it, she turned back or made a wide circuit immediately, as if afraid to betray the site of her domicile. We even observed her turning back, when we were so distant that it could not reasonably be supposed she was jealous of us; but probably she had detected some prowling insect depredator, tracking her flight with designs upon her provision for her future progeny. We imagined we could perceive not a little art in her jealous caution, for she would alight on the tiles as if to rest herself; and even when she had entered the coal-house, she did not go directly to her nest, but again rested on a shelf, and at other times pretended to examine several crevices in the wall, at some distance from the nest. But when there was nothing to alarm her, she flew directly to the spot, and began eagerly to add to the building.
It is in instances such as these, which exhibit the adaptation of instinct to circumstances, that our reason finds the greatest difficulty in explaining the governing principle of the minds of the inferior animals. The mason-bee makes her nest by an invariable rule; the model is in her mind, as it has been in the mind of her race from their first creation: they have learnt nothing by experience. But the mode in which they accomplish this task varies according to the situations in which they are placed. They appear to have a glimmering of reason, employed as an accessary and instrument of their instinct.
The structure, when finished, consisted of a wall of clay supported by two contiguous bricks, enclosing six chambers, within each of which a mass of pollen, rather larger than a cherry-stone, was deposited, together with an egg, from which in due time a grub was hatched. Contrary to what has been recorded by preceding naturalists with respect to other mason-bees, we found the cells in this instance quite parallel and perpendicular; but it may also be remarked, that the bee itself was a species altogether different from the one which we have described above as the Anthophora retusa, and agreed with the figure of the one we caught quarrying the clay—(Osmia bicornis).
[In Mr. F. Smith’s elaborate catalogue of the British hymenoptera there is a most interesting account of the habits of this insect, which is the most abundant species of the genus, and is spread not only over the whole of England, but over the continent, being found as far south as Italy and as far north as Lapland.
“In a hilly country, or at the sea-side, it chooses the sunny side of cliffs or sandy banks in which to form its burrows, but in cultivated districts, particularly if the soil be clayey, it selects a decayed tree, preferring the stump of an old willow. It lays up a store of pollen and honey for the larvæ, which when full grown, spins a tough dark brown cocoon, in which they remain in the larval state until the autumn, when the majority change to pupæ, and soon arrive at their perfect condition. Many, however, pass the winter in the larva state. In attempting to account for so remarkable a circumstance, all must be conjecture, but it is not of unfrequent occurrence. This species frequently makes its burrows in the mortar of old walls.”
Another species (Osmia bicolor) sometimes makes its cells in very peculiar situations. When obliged to have recourse to its natural powers, it uses its limbs right well, attacks the hard sandy banks, and works at them with the greatest perseverance. But it will not work one stroke where it can avoid the necessity, and in many cases, it contrives to avoid work with much ingenuity.
Lying hidden under hedges, bushes, grass, and herbage, are sure to be shells of various snails, such as the common garden-snail, and the banded-snail, whose diversified shell is the delight of children. These shells the bee thinks are as good as ready-made burrows, and she uses them accordingly.
She goes to the end of the shell, carrying her materials with her, and then builds a cell, and fills it with pollen and honey. Another cell is then made, and yet another, until the shell is nearly filled. As the shell widens, the Osmia places two cells side by side, and when the insect has worked within a short distance of the mouth, she places the cells horizontally, so as to fill up the space. There are several specimens of these curious habitations in the British Museum.
When the whole series of cells is completed, the bee closes up the entrance with little morsels of earth, bits of stick and little stones, all strongly glued together with some very adhesive substance.
Another species (Osmia parietina) has much simpler habits, and is much easier satisfied with a dwelling. This insect merely looks out for a flattish stone lying on the ground, and crawls under it to see if there is any hollow. If so, it attaches the cocoons to the stone and leaves them. On one stone, seen in the British Museum, no less than two hundred and thirty cocoons were placed, although the stone is only ten inches in length by six in width.
This insect is almost wholly confined to the north of England.]
There was one circumstance attending the proceedings of this mason-bee which struck us not a little, though we could not explain it to our own satisfaction. Every time she left her nest for the purpose of procuring a fresh supply of materials, she paid a regular visit to the blossoms of a lilac-tree which grew near. Had these blossoms afforded a supply of pollen, with which she could have replenished her cells, we could have easily understood her design; but the pollen of the lilac is not suitable for this purpose, and that she had never used it was proved by all the pollen in the cells being yellow, whereas that of the lilac is of the same pale purple colour as the flowers. Besides, she did not return immediately from the lilac-tree to the building, but always went for a load of clay. There seemed to us, therefore, to be only two ways to explain the circumstance:—she must either have applied to the lilac-blossoms to obtain a refreshment of honey, or to procure glutinous materials to mix with the clay.
When employed upon the building itself, the bee exhibited the restless disposition peculiar to most hymenopterous[P] insects; for she did not go on with one particular portion of her wall, but ran about from place to place every time she came to work. At first, when we saw her running from the bottom to the top of her building, we naturally imagined that she went up for some of the bricklayer’s mortar to mix with her own materials; but upon minutely examining the walls afterwards, no lime could be discovered in their structure similar to that which was apparent in the nest found in the wall of Greenwich Park.
Réaumur mentions another sort of mason-bee, which selects a small cavity in a stone, in which she forms her nest of garden-mould moistened with gluten, and afterwards closes the whole with the same material.
[In the accompanying illustration is shown a series of cells which are constructed by an insect which is closely related to the rose-cutter bee of our own country, to which it bears a close resemblance.
It is a native of South Africa, and its name is Chalicodoma cœlocerus. The insect is about half an inch in length, and the colour of the head and body is black, that of the abdomen being brick red.
The nest is made of mud, which is collected by the patient insect and stuck against walls, trunks of trees, and similar localities. In this lump of mud the insect excavates a small number of burrows, each of which contains several cells. If the reader will refer to the central burrow, he will see that it is divided into three cells. The specimen from which this drawing is taken may be seen in the British Museum.
There is another South African insect which makes its mud nest, and fastens it against trees and walls. This is called Synagris calida, and its colour is almost dingy black, the only exception being the red tip to the abdomen. The holes seen in the engraving are the apertures through which the young brood has escaped into the world. The nest is represented of half its natural size.]
Mining-Bees.
A very small sort of bees (Andrenæ), many of them not larger than a house-fly, dig in the ground tubular galleries little wider than the diameter of their own bodies. Samouelle says, that all of them seem to prefer a southern aspect; but we have found them in banks facing the east, and even the north. Immediately above the spot where we have described the mason-bees quarrying the clay, we observed several holes, about the diameter of the stalk of a tobacco-pipe, into which those little bees were seen passing. The clay here was very hard; and on passing a straw into the hole as a director, and digging down for six or eight inches, a very smooth circular gallery was found, terminating in a thimble-shaped horizontal chamber, almost at right angles to the entrance and nearly twice as wide. In this chamber there was a ball of bright yellow pollen, as round as a garden pea, and rather larger, upon which a small white grub was feeding; and to which the mother bee had been adding, as she had just entered a minute before with her thighs loaded with pollen. That it was not the male, the load of pollen determined; for the male has no apparatus for collecting or transporting it. The whole labour of digging the nest and providing food for the young is performed by the female. The females of the solitary bees have no assistance in their tasks. The males are idle; and the females are unprovided with labourers, such as the queens of the hive command.
Réaumur mentions that the bees of this sort, whose operations he had observed, piled up at the entrance of their galleries the earth which they had scooped out from the interior; and when the grub was hatched, and properly provided with food, the earth was again employed to close up the passage, in order to prevent the intrusion of ants, ichneumon-flies, or other depredators. In those which we have observed, this was not the case; but every species differs from another in some little peculiarity, though they agree in the general principles of their operations.
[The genus Andrena is an exceedingly large one, nearly seventy species being acknowledged in England alone. They choose various situations for their nest; a very favourite situation is a hard-trodden pathway; into this the bees burrow for some six or seven inches, and often drive their tunnels to a depth of ten inches. Digging up these habitations is not a very easy task, because the tunnel does not run straight, but turns aside when a stone or any similar obstacle comes in the way, and in getting out the stone the burrow is mostly broken. The only method of digging out the nest successfully is either by pushing a small twig up the hole, and using it as a guide, or by filling the entire hole with cotton wool, so as to prevent the earth from falling in.
The commonest species is Andrena albicans. Its length is rather less than half an inch, and its colour is black, with a thick coating of rich red hair on the upper part of the thorax. This species is plentiful on the continent, and is found as far south as Italy. But it is equally capable of enduring great cold, as it has been captured in the Arctic regions. Sometimes the bee will not trouble itself to make a number of separate burrows, but will drive short supplementary tunnels from the side of the first burrow, so that they all open into one common entrance.
The Andrenæ are remarkable for the parasites with which they are infested, the most curious of which is that tiny strepsipterous insect called the Stylops.
One of the Andrenæ, called Colletes Daviesana, is remarkable for the character of its burrow. Like many of the insects which have already been described, it seems indifferent whether it burrows in sand-banks or into the mortar of walls, provided that in the latter case the mortar is soft and friable.
The insect burrows a hole which is very deep in proportion to its size, the little bee being only the third of an inch in length, and the burrows some eight or ten inches in depth. When the mother Colletes has finished her tunnel, she lines the end of it with a thin kind of membrane, which has been well compared by Mr. F. Smith to goldbeater’s skin. This lining is intended to enable the bee to store honey in the cell, as, if there were no such protection, the honey would soak in the ground and be lost.
Having stored up enough food for a single offspring, she shuts it off by a partition of the same membranous substance as the lining. Her next care is to make a thimble-like cup at the end, so as to have a double lining where the honey is to come, and then she puts a fresh supply in the new cell. This cell is then closed, and the bee proceeds with her work until she has made from six to eight cells in a single burrow. This insect suffers terribly from the depredations of the earwig, which completely empties the burrow both of food and of inhabitants. The colour of the insect is black, with a little reddish down on the upper part of the thorax, and some white on the legs. The abdomen is shining black, but each segment has a very narrow band of reddish down on its edge.
In 1850, Mr. F. Smith, to whose works such constant reference has been made, undertook the study of a genus of mining-bees belonging to this family. The species which he chiefly watched is Halictus morio, and his observations are peculiarly valuable, as showing the wonderful manner in which the economy of the race is managed. It is known that in these and many other insects, the pregnant females pass the winter in a state of hibernation, and begin to work in the following spring, and that therefore some arrangement must be needful that a supply of such queens should be kept up.
Mr. Smith found the case to stand thus. Early in April, the females appeared abundantly, and could be seen until June, but not a single male was to be found. During June and July, almost all the Halicti had disappeared, the reason being, that the queens had made their burrows, laid their eggs, stocked their cells, and then died, the duties of their life having been fulfilled. In the middle of August, the males began to appear, and in September the females of the first brood came out. They immediately set to work at their burrows, and laid their eggs. The ground, thoroughly warmed by the summer sun, soon hastened the young through their changes, and in an incredibly short time the insects of the second brood made their appearance. The females of this brood meet their mates, and then hide themselves until the following spring.
As in the case of Andrenæ, several tunnels are often made with one common entrance. The insect is very small, scarcely exceeding the sixth of an inch in length. The head and thorax are a dark green, the abdomen is white, and the legs are covered with silvery hairs. It is a plentiful insect, and is found haunting the holes of old walls.
Passing to another family of British mining-bees, we come to one species that is remarkable not only for its form, but for its economy. This is the Eucera longicornis, the only known species that inhabits England. In form it is chiefly remarkable from the fact that the antennæ of the male are as long as the entire body. The pupa of this insect is enclosed in a thin membrane, and when the male insect is about to emerge from its pupal shell, it has recourse to a rather curious expedient. At the base of the first joint of the front feet there is a bold notch. When the insect wishes to remove the thin membranous pellicle which envelopes the antennæ, it lays these organs in the notch, draws them through, and thus easily strips off the pellicle. The antennæ are most beautifully formed, the surface of each joint being marked with an elaborate pattern like net-work, so that they form beautiful objects for the microscope.
The soil preferred by the Eucera is of a clayey nature. When it has completed the burrow, it presses the soil at the extremity with all its might, and smooths it so carefully that the burrow becomes capable of holding honey without needing any lining. The insect is generally found about the end of May or beginning of June, and in some places is found in great numbers. The ground colour of the insect is black, but the body is covered with a coating of short dun hairs. The length rather exceeds half an inch.]
CARPENTER-BEES; CARPENTER-WASPS; UPHOLSTERER-BEES.
Carpenter-Bees.
Among the solitary bees are several British species, which come under that class called carpenter-bees by M. Réaumur, from the circumstance of their working in wood, as the mason-bees work in stone. We have frequently witnessed the operations of these ingenious little workers, who are particularly partial to posts, palings, and the wood-work of houses which has become soft by beginning to decay. Wood actually decayed, or affected by dry-rot, they seem to reject as unfit for their purposes; but they make no objections to any hole previously drilled, provided it be not too large; and, like the mason-bees, they not unfrequently take possession of an old nest, a few repairs being all that in this case is necessary.
When a new nest is to be constructed, the bee proceeds to chisel sufficient space for it out of the wood with her jaws. We say her, because the task in this instance, as in most others of solitary bees and wasps, devolves solely upon the female, the male taking no concern in the affair, and probably being altogether ignorant that such a work is going forward. It is, at least, certain that the male is never seen giving his assistance, and he seldom, if ever, approaches the neighbourhood. The female carpenter-bee has a task to perform no less arduous than the mason-bee; for though the wood may be tolerably soft, she can only cut out a very small portion at a time. The successive portions which she gnaws off may be readily ascertained by an observer, as she carries them away from the place. In giving the history of a mason-wasp (Odynerus), at page 22, we remarked the care with which she carried to a distance little fragments of brick, which she detached in the progress of excavation. We have recently watched a precisely similar procedure in the instance of a carpenter-bee forming a cell in a wooden post. (J. R.) The only difference was, that the bee did not fly so far away with her fragments of wood as the wasp did; but she varied the direction of her flight every time: and we could observe that, after dropping, the chip of wood which she had carried off, she did not return in a direct line to her nest, but made a circuit of some extent before wheeling round to go back.
On observing the proceedings of this carpenter-bee next day, we found her coming in with balls of pollen on her thighs; and on tracing her from the nest into the adjacent garden, we saw her visiting every flower which was likely to yield her a supply of pollen for her future progeny. This was not all; we subsequently saw her taking the direction of the clay quarry frequented by the mason-bees, as we have mentioned in page 41, where we recognised her loading herself with a pellet of clay, and carrying it into her cell in the wooden post. We observed her alternating this labour for several days, at one time carrying clay, and at another pollen; till at length she completed her task, and closed the entrance with a barricade of clay, to prevent the intrusion of any insectivorous depredator, who might make prey of her young; or of some prying parasite, who might introduce its own eggs into the nest she had taken so much trouble to construct.
Some days after it was finished, we cut into the post, and exposed this nest to view. It consisted of six cells of a somewhat square shape, the wood forming the lateral walls; and each was separated from the one adjacent by a partition of clay, of the thickness of a playing card. The wood was not lined with any extraneous substance, but was worked as smooth as if it had been chiseled by a joiner. There were five cells, arranged in a very singular manner—two being almost horizontal, two perpendicular, and one oblique.
The depth to which the wood was excavated in this instance was considerably less than what we have observed in other species which dig perpendicular galleries several inches deep in posts and garden-seats; and they are inferior in ingenuity to the carpentry of a bee described by Réaumur (Xylocopa violacea), which has not been ascertained to be a native of Britain, though a single indigenous species of the genus has been doubtingly mentioned, and is figured by Kirby and Spence, in their valuable ‘Monographia.’ If it ever be found here, its large size and beautiful violet-coloured wings will render mistakes impossible.
In fig. A the cells contain the young grubs; in fig. B the cells are empty. Both figures are shown in section, and about half their natural size.
The violet carpenter-bee usually selects an upright piece of wood, into which she bores obliquely for about an inch; and then, changing the direction, works perpendicularly, and parallel to the sides of the wood, from twelve or fifteen inches, and half an inch in breadth. Sometimes the bee is contented with one or two of these excavations; at other times, when the wood is adapted to it, she scoops out three or four—a task which sometimes requires several weeks of incessant labour.
The tunnel in the wood, however, is only one part of the work; for the little architect has afterwards to divide the whole into cells, somewhat less than an inch in depth. It is necessary, for the proper growth of her progeny, that each should be separated from the other, and be provided with adequate food. She knows, most exactly, the quantity of food which each grub will require during its growth; and she therefore does not hesitate to cut it off from any additional supply. In constructing her cells, she does not employ clay, like the bee which we have mentioned above, but the sawdust, if we may call it so, which she has collected in gnawing out the gallery. It would not, therefore, have suited her design to scatter this about, as our carpenter-bee did. The violet-bee, on the contrary, collects her gnawings into a little store-heap for future use, at a short distance from her nest. She proceeds thus:—At the bottom of her excavation she deposits an egg, and over it fills a space nearly an inch high with the pollen of flowers, made into a paste with honey. She then covers this over with a ceiling composed of cemented sawdust, which also serves for the floor of the next chamber above it. For this purpose she cements round a wall a ring of wood-chips taken from her store-heap; and within this ring forms another, gradually contracting the diameter till she has constructed a circular plate, about the thickness of a crown-piece, and of considerable hardness. This plate of course exhibits concentric circles, somewhat similar to the annual circles in the cross section of a tree. In the same manner she proceeds till she has completed ten or twelve cells; and then she closes the main entrance with a barrier of similar materials.
Let us compare the progress of this little joiner with a human artisan—one who has been long practised in his trade, and has the most perfect and complicated tools for his assistance. The bee has learnt nothing by practice; she makes her nest but once in her life, but it is then as complete and finished as if she had made a thousand. She has no pattern before her—but the Architect of all things has impressed a plan upon her mind, which she can realize without scale or compasses. Her two sharp teeth are the only tools with which she is provided for her laborious work; and yet she bores a tunnel, twelve times the length of her own body, with greater ease than the workman who bores into the earth for water, with his apparatus of augurs adapted to every soil. Her tunnel is clean and regular; she leaves no chips at the bottom, for she is provident of her materials. Further, she has an exquisite piece of joinery to perform when her ruder labour is accomplished. The patient bee works her rings from the circumference to the centre, and she produces a shelf, united with such care with her natural glue, that a number of fragments are as solid as one piece.
The violet carpenter-bee, as may be expected, occupies several weeks in these complicated labours; and during that period she is gradually depositing her eggs, each of which is successively to become a grub, a pupa, and a perfect bee. It is obvious, therefore, as she does not lay all her eggs in the same place—as each is separated from the other by a laborious process—that the egg which is first laid will be the earliest hatched; and that the first perfect insect, being older than its fellows in the same tunnel, will strive to make its escape sooner, and so on of the rest. The careful mother provides for this contingency. She makes a lateral opening at the bottom of the cells; for the teeth of the young bees would not be strong enough to pierce the outer wood, though they can remove the cemented rings of sawdust in the interior. Réaumur observed these holes, in several cases; and he further noticed another external opening opposite to the middle cell, which he supposed was formed, in the first instance, to shorten the distance for the removal of the fragments of wood in the lower half of the building.
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That bees of similar habits, if not the same species as the violet-bee, are indigenous to this country, is proved by Grew, who mentions, in his ‘Rarities of Gresham College,’ having found a series of such cells in the middle of the pith of an elder branch, in which they were placed lengthwise, one after another, with a thin boundary between each. As he does not, however, tell us that he was acquainted with the insect which constructed these, it might as probably be allied to the Ceratina albilabris, of which Spinola has given so interesting an account in the ‘Annales du Muséum d’Histoire Naturelle’ (x. 236). This noble and learned naturalist tells us, that one evening he perceived a female ceratina alight on the branch of a bramble, partly withered, and of which the extremity had been broken; and, after resting a moment, suddenly disappear. On detaching the branch, he found that it was perforated, and that the insect was in the very act of excavating a nidus for her eggs. He forthwith gathered a bundle of branches, both of the bramble and the wild-rose, similarly perforated, and took them home to examine them at leisure. Upon inspection, he found that the nests were furnished like those of the same tribe, with balls of pollen kneaded with honey, as a provision for the grubs.
The female ceratina selects a branch of the bramble or wild-rose which has been accidentally broken, and digs into the pith only, leaving the wood and bark untouched. Her mandibles, indeed, are not adapted for gnawing wood; and, accordingly, he found instances in which she could not finish her nest in branches of the wild-rose, where the pith was not of sufficient diameter.
The insect usually makes her perforation a foot in depth, and divides this into eight, nine, or even twelve cells, each about five lines long, and separated by partitions formed by the gnawings of the pith, cemented by honey, or some similar glutinous fluid, much in the same manner with the Xylocopa violacea, which we have already described.
[This species is probably Ceratina cærulea, as the second species, C. albilabris, seems to have little claim to be considered as a British insect. It is plentiful in spots where it resides, but is very local. It can best be found by collecting all the specimens of bramble branches that have holes bored into the pith.
Mr. F. Smith says of this tiny bee, “Some years ago I observed a small bee most industriously employed in excavating a dead bramble stick. My attention was directed to the circumstance from observing some of the fallen pieces of pith on the ground immediately beneath. Occasionally fresh quantities of dust were pushed out. At length, the little creature came out of the stick as if to rest, and after sunning itself for a few minutes, it re-entered, and again commenced its labours. Later in the day, after stopping up the entrance, I cut off the branch and found in it a male and female ceratina.”
The ceratina is only the sixth of an inch in length, and is deep shining blue in colour.
There are many other species of British bees which frequent the stems of bramble and other trees. One of them is known as Prosopis signata. The cells made by the bees of this genus are lined with a membrane, and are stocked with liquid honey. Some species will not take the trouble of boring a tunnel for themselves, but will make use of hollow stones, or similar localities, and place in them the silk-covered cocoons.
There are species of that versatile genus Osmia (O. leucomelana), in the habit of burrowing into dead bramble branches. The mother insect bores a hole some six inches in length, throwing the pieces of pith away, and then, depositing at the bottom an egg and a supply of food, she forms a cell by fixing across the burrow a stopper made of masticated leaves.
The stopper retains its place firmly, because the bee does not eat away the whole of the pith, but alternately widens and contracts the diameter of the burrow, each contracted portion being the termination of a cell. The perfect insect appears in the early summer of the following year.]