THE PINE-CHAFER.
(Melolontha fullo.)
Now what did the ancient naturalist mean by the term "fuller beetle"? We do not precisely know. The qualification albis guttis, white spots, would fit the Pine-chafer well enough, but it is not sufficient to make us certain. Pliny himself does not seem to have been very certain of the identity of the remedy. In his time men's eyes had not yet learned to see the insect world. Insects were too small; they were well enough for amusing children, who would tie them to the end of a long thread and make them walk in circles, but they were not worthy of occupying the attention of a self-respecting man.
Pliny apparently derived the word from the country-folk, always poor observers and inclined to extravagant denominations. The scholar accepted the rural locution, the work perhaps of the imagination of childhood, and applied it at hazard without informing himself more particularly. The word came down to us embalmed with age; our modern naturalists have accepted it, and thus one of our handsomest insects has become the "fuller." The majesty of antiquity has consecrated the strange appellation.
In spite of all my respect for the antique, I cannot myself accept the term "fuller," because under the circumstances it is absurd. Common sense should be considered before the aberrations of nomenclature. Why not call our subject the Pine-chafer, in reference to the beloved tree, the paradise of the insect during the two or three weeks of its aerial life? Nothing could be simpler, or more appropriate, to give the better reason last.
We have to wander for ages in the night of absurdity before we reach the radiant light of the truth. All our sciences witness to this fact; even the science of numbers. Try to add a column of Roman figures; you will abandon the task, stupefied by the confusion of symbols; and will recognise what a revolution was made in arithmetic by the discovery of the zero. Like the egg of Columbus, it was a very little thing, but it had to be thought of.
While hoping that the future will sink the unfortunate "fuller" in oblivion, we will use the term "pine chafer" between ourselves. Under that name no one can possibly mistake the insect in question, which frequents the pine-tree only.
It has a handsome and dignified appearance, rivalling that of Oryctes nasicornis. Its costume, if it has not the metallic splendour dear to the Scarabæi, the Buprestes and the rose-beetles, is at least unusually elegant. A black or chestnut background is thickly sown with capriciously shaped spots of white velvet; a fashion both modest and handsome.
The male bears at the end of his short antennæ a kind of plume consisting of seven large superimposed plates or leaves, which, opening and closing like the sticks of a fan, betray the emotions that possess him. At first sight it seems that this magnificent foliage must form a sense-organ of great perfection, capable of perceiving subtle odours, or almost inaudible vibrations of the air, or other phenomena to which our senses fail to respond; but the female warns us that we must not place too much reliance on such ideas; for although her maternal duties demand a degree of impressionability at least as great as that of the male, yet the plumes of her antennæ are extremely meagre, containing only six narrow leaves.
What then is the use of the enormous fan-like structure of the male antennæ? The seven-leaved apparatus is for the Pine-chafer what his long vibrating horns are to the Cerambyx and the panoply of the head to the Onthophagus and the forked antlers of the mandibles to the Stag-beetle. Each decks himself after his manner in these nuptial extravagances.
This handsome chafer appears towards the summer solstice, almost simultaneously with the first Cigales. The punctuality of its appearance gives it a place in the entomological calendar, which is no less punctual than that of the seasons. When the longest days come, those days which seem endless and gild the harvests, it never fails to hasten to its tree. The fires of St. John, reminiscences of the festivals of the Sun, which the children light in the village streets, are not more punctual in their date.
At this season, in the hours of twilight, the Pine-chafer comes every evening if the weather is fine, to visit the pine-trees in the garden. I follow its evolutions with my eyes. With a silent flight, not without spirit, the males especially wheel and wheel about, extending their great antennary plumes; they go to and fro, to and fro, a procession of flying shadows upon the pale blue of the sky in which the last light of day is dying. They settle, take flight again, and once more resume their busy rounds. What are they doing up there during the fortnight of their festival?
The answer is evident: they are courting their mates, and they continue to render their homage until the fall of night. In the morning both males and females commonly occupy the lower branches. They lie there isolated, motionless, indifferent to passing events. They do not avoid the hand about to seize them. Most of them are hanging by their hind legs and nibbling the pine-needles; they seem to be gently drowsing with the needles at their mouths. When twilight returns they resume their frolics.
To watch these frolics in the tops of the trees is hardly possible; let us try to observe them in captivity. Four pairs are collected in the morning and placed, with some twigs off the pine-tree, in a spacious; cage. The sight is hardly worth my attention; deprived of the possibility of flight, the insects cannot behave as in the open. At most I see a male from time to time approaching his beloved; he spreads out the leaves of his antennæ, and agitates them so that they shiver slightly; he is perhaps informing himself if he is welcome. Thereupon he puts on his finest airs and exhibits his attainments. It is a useless display; the female is motionless, as though insensible to these demonstrations. Captivity has sorrows that are hard to overcome. This was all that I was able to see. Mating, it appears, must take place during the later hours of the night, so that I missed the propitious moment.
One detail in particular interested me. The Pine-chafer emits a musical note. The female is as gifted as the male. Does the lover make use of his faculty as a means of seduction and appeal? Does the female answer the chirp of her innamorata by a similar chirp? That this may be so under normal conditions, amidst the foliage of the pines, is extremely probable; but I can make no assertion, as I have never heard anything of the kind either among the pines or in my laboratory.
The sound is produced by the extremity of the abdomen, which gently rises and falls, rubbing, as it does so, with its last few segments, the hinder edge of the wing-covers, which are held firm and motionless. There is no special equipment on the rubbing surface nor on the surface rubbed. The magnifying-glass looks in vain for the fine striations usually found in the musical instruments of the insect world. All is smooth on either hand. How then is the sound engendered?
Rub the end of the moistened finger on a strip of glass, or a window-pane, and you will obtain a very audible sound, somewhat analogous to that emitted by the chafer. Better still, use a scrap of indiarubber to rub the glass with, and you will reproduce with some fidelity the sound in question. If the proper rhythm is observed the imitation is so successful that one might well be deceived by it.
In the musical apparatus of the Pine-chafer the pad of the finger-tip and the scrap of indiarubber are represented by the soft abdomen of the insect, and the glass is represented by the blade of the wing-cover, which forms a thin, rigid plate, easily set in vibration. The sound-mechanism of the Pine-chafer is thus of the very simplest description.
INDEX
A
Acorn-Weevil, see Elephant-Beetle
Ameles, see Mantis, the Grey
Anacreon, on the Cigale, 9
Ant, fable of the Cigale and the, 1-16
Devours the Cigale, 9
Robs the Cigale, 8
Arum, Serpent or Putrid, the, attracts and captures insects by means
of its offensive effluvia, 230-2
B
Balaninus, see Elephant-Beetle
Bean, ancestry of, 258-9
Bean, see Haricot
Bean-Weevil, see Weevil
Bees, victims of Philanthus, see latter
Bembex, 168, 172
Bolboceras Gallicus, 217-37
Appearance of, 223
Habits and diet, 226030
Lodging of, 225
Bruchus pisi, see Pea-Weevil
Bruchus lenti, see Lentil-Weevil
Buprestes, 21
C
Cacan, the, 36-9
Capricornis, 21-2
Cerceris, 172, 178
Chrysomela, 151, 172
Cigale, the, 1-67
Burrow of the, 17-30
Deafness of the, 41-3
Diet, 7
Eggs of the, 45-67
Eggs, hatching of, 61-7
Eggs, method of laying, 50-4
Enemies of the, 47-50
Excavation, method of, 23-7
Fable of Ant and, 1-16
Larva of the, 17-30
Larva, habits of, 61-7
Mechanism of sound, 31-4
Pupa, emergence from, 28
Song of the, 2, 6, 31-44
Species of, 31-6
Cigalo e la Fournigo (Provençal poem), 10-16
Cricket, Field, the, 120-9
Eggs of, 120-2
Excavations of, 124-5
Fertility of, 123
Song of, 126-8
Cricket, Italian, the, 130-5
Appearance of, 130
Song of, 131-4
D
Dermestes, victims of arum, 232
Dioscorides on the Cigale, 29
Diptera, 168, 172
Dog, its love of stenches, 233
Scent of the, 220-22
A truffle-hunter, 218-20
E
Elephant-Beetle (Balaninus or Acorn-Weevil), 238-57
Boring acorns, habit of, 240-4
Eggs, method of laying, 245, 245-7
Motives in boring, 246-50
Snout of, 238-9
Emperor Moth, see Great Peacock Moth
Empusa pauperata, see Mantis
Eucores, 176
G
Golden Gardener, the, 102-19
Cannibal habits of, 111-19
Courtship of, 103-10
Ferocity of, 101-4, 108-10
Nutriment of, 102-10
Vermin killer, as a, 107
Grandville, illustrates La Fontaine's fables, 2
H
Halictus, 176, 178
Haricot bean, the, 282-9
Haricot-Weevil, the, see Weevil
Heredia, J. M. de, 287-90
Hydnocystus, a fungus, 228
Hymenoptera, habits of, 137-8, 150, 162, 171-2, 175-6
L
La Fontaine, fable of the Cigale and the Ant, 3
Locust, Grey, the, 300-16
Larva of, 300
Metamorphosis of, 300-9
Wing, formation of, 309-15
M
Mantis, the Empusa pauperata, 97
Mantis, the Grey, 96
Mantis, the Praying, 68-101
Cannibalism of, 82-5
Courtship, 79-83
Hunter, as, 68-78
Nest of, 86-101
Melolontha fullo, see Pine-chafer
Minotaur, 225
O
Oak Eggar, the, 202-16, 234-7
Experiments as to sense of smell in males, 208-15
Swarming of males during the mating season, 204-15
Odynerus, 150-1, 172
Osmia tricornis, 173, 175
P
Pea, ancestry of the, 258-9
Pea-Weevil, see Weevil
Peacock Moth, the Great, 179-201, 234-7
Appearance of, 179
Experiments as to sense of smell in males, 184-97
Invasion of house by males, 180-1
Swarming of males, 181-3
Peacock Moth, the Lesser, 197-201
Phalangist, the, 225
Philanthus aviporus, 150-178
Cocoon of, 168
Diet of, 150-1
Larvæ of, 168
Methods of killing and robbing bees, 151-160
Motives of robbery, 163-78
Nest of, 167
Philanthus coronatus, 178
Philanthus raptor, 178
Pine-chafer, the, 317-23
Appearance of, 320
Cry of, 322-3
Habits of, 321
Medical qualities of, supposed, 318-19
Name, origin of Latin, 317-18
Pliny, on the Pine-chafer, 318-19
S
Saprinidæ, victims of arum, 233
Sapromyzon, the, 222
Scarabæus, see Golden Scarabæus
Scent in Insects, see Peacock Moth,
Oak Eggar, Bolboceras Gallicus, arum, putrid
Scolia, 171
Sisyphus, legend of, 139
Sisyphus Beetle, the, 136-49
Burrow of, 143
Larva of, 147-9
Mating of, 142-3
Paternal instinct of 142-6
Pellet of, 142-9
T
Tachytus, 172
Tigno, nest of Mantis, 99-101
Truffle-Beetle, 222
Truffle-Dog, 218-20
W
Weevil, Acorn, see Elephant-Beetle
Weevil, the Lentil, 291
Weevil, the Haricot, 282-94
Habits of, 291-6
Invasion of, 284
Larvæ, 297-9
Weevil, the Pea, 258-81, 295
Description of, 261
Enemy, its chief, 280-1
Habits, 261-5
(Deductions to be drawn from), 273-4
Larvæ of, 268-71, 275-6
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Whether the Cigale is absolutely deaf or not, it is certain that one Cigale would be able to perceive another's cry. The vibrations of the male Cigale's cry would cause a resonance, a vibration, in the body cavities of other male Cigales, and to a lesser extent in the smaller cavities in the bodies of the females. Other sounds would cause a slight shock, if loud enough, but not a perceptible vibration May not this vibration—felt as in a cathedral we feel the vibrations of the organ-pipes in the bones of the chest and head or on the covers of the hymn-book in our hands—serve to keep the insects together, and enable the females to keep within sight of the males? The sight of an insect is in one sense poor—it consists of a kind of mosaic picture, and for one insect to distinguish another clearly the distance between them must not be very great. Certain gregarious birds and fish whose colouring is protective have a habit of showing their white bellies as they swerve on changing their direction. These signals help to keep the flock together. The white scut of the rabbit and of certain deer is a signal for other deer or rabbits to follow a frightened flock. It is obviously to the advantage of the Cigale to follow a gregarious habit, if only for purposes of propagation, for this would be facilitated by the sexes keeping together, and, deaf or otherwise, the vibrations of its cry would enable it to do so. It would be easy to show a priori that the perception of such vibrations must cause the insect pleasure, as they stimulate a nervous structure attuned to the perception or capable of the production of certain complex vibrations. The discord of the cry is caused by the fact that it consists of a number of vibrations of different pitch. Some would set the contents of the male resonating cavities in vibration; others would affect the less regular cavities in the thorax of the female. We might compare the Cigale's cry to a sheep-bell. That it is felt and not heard explains its loudness and its grating quality. A Cigale with the resonating cavities destroyed would possibly be lost. The experiment is worth trying.—[Trans.]
[2] It is not easy to understand why the Mantis should paralyse the cricket with terror while the latter will immediately escape when threatened by other enemies. As many species of Mantis exactly mimic sticks and leaves when motionless for purposes of defence, is it not possible that they mimic their surroundings for purposes of offence as well? It is easy and natural to say that the Mantis presents a terrifying aspect. It does to us, by association; but how can we say that it represents anything of the sort to the probably hypnotic or automatic consciousness of the cricket? What does it really represent, as seen from below? A twig, terminating in a bud, with two branching twigs growing from it, and a harmless nondescript fly or butterfly perched on the back of it. The combination of a familiar sight and a threatening sound would very plausibly result in cautious immobility. As for its instantaneous assumption of the pose, to move instantaneously is the next best thing to not moving at all. It is less likely to startle than a slow movement. Twigs which have been bent get suddenly released in the natural course of events; they do not move slowly. The instantaneous appearance of a twig where no twig was before may possibly give the victim pause; it may halt out of caution, not out of terror.—[Trans.]
[3] The word "butterfly" is here used, as is the French papillon, as a general term for all Lepidoptera; the insect in question is of course a moth.
[4] Now classified as Lasiocampa quercus.—[Trans.]
[5] Rabasso is the Provençal name for the truffle; hence a truffle-hunter is known as a rabassier.
[6] Since these lines were written I have found it consuming one of the true tuberaceæ, the Tuber Requienii, Tul., of the size of a cherry.
[7] The difficulty in conceiving this theory lies in the fact that the waves travel in straight lines. On the other hand, matter in a state of degradation may expel particles highly energised and of enormous velocity. Most antennæ are covered with hairs of inconceivable fineness; others may contain cavities of almost infinite minuteness. Is it not thinkable that they are able to detect, in the gaseous atmosphere, floating particles that are not gaseous? This would not prevent the specialisation of antennæ as mere feelers in some insects and crustaceans. The difficulty of such a supposition lies in the fact of discrimination; but if we did not possess a sense of taste or smell discrimination would seem inconceivable in their case also.—[Trans.]
[8] This classification is now superseded; the Pea and Bean Weevils—Bruchus pisi and Bruchus lenti—are classed as Bruchidæ, in the series of Phytophaga. Most of the other weevils are classed as Curculionidæ, series Rhyncophora.—[Trans.]
[9] The Christmas number (Noël) of the Annales politiques et littéraires: Les Enfants jugés par leurs pères, 1901.
[10] The American usage is to call acridians grasshoppers and Locustidæ locusts. The English usage is to call Locustidæ grasshoppers and acridians locusts. The Biblical locust is an acridian.
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