The Book Of Curiosities Part 27

Besides building and repairing, a great deal of their time is occupied in making necessary alterations in their mansion and its approaches. The royal presence chamber, as the female increases in size, must be gradually enlarged; the nurseries must be removed to a greater distance; the chambers and interior of the nest receive daily accessions, to provide for a daily increasing population; and the direction of their covered ways must often be varied, when the old stock of provision is exhausted, and new sources are discovered.

The collection of provisions for the use of the colony is another employment, which necessarily calls for incessant attention: these, to the naked eye, appear like raspings of wood; but when examined by the microscope, they are found to consist chiefly of gums and the insp.i.s.sated juices of plants, which, formed into little ma.s.ses, are stored up in magazines made of clay.

When any one is bold enough to attack their nest, and make a breach in its walls, the labourers, who are incapable of fighting, retire within, and give way to another description of its inhabitants, whose office it is to defend the fortress when a.s.sailed by enemies; these, as observed before, are the neuters or soldiers. If the breach be made in a slight part of the building, one of these comes out to reconnoitre; he then retires and gives the alarm. Two or three others next appear, scrambling as fast as they can one after the other; to these succeed a large body, who rush forth with as much speed as the breach will permit, their numbers continually increasing during the attack. It is not easy to describe the rage and fury by which these diminutive heroes seem actuated. In their haste they frequently miss their hold, and tumble down the sides of their hill: they soon, however, recover themselves, and, being blind, bite every thing they run against.

If the attack proceeds, the bustle and agitation increase to a tenfold degree, and their fury is raised to its highest pitch. Wo to him whose hands or legs they can come at! for they will make their fanged jaws meet at the very first stroke, drawing as much blood as will counterpoise their whole body, and never quitting their hold, even though they are pulled limb from limb. The naked legs of the negroes expose them frequently to this injury; and the stockings of the Europeans are not thick enough to defend them.

On the other hand, if, after the first attack, you get a little out of the way, giving them no further interruption, supposing the a.s.sailant of their citadel is gone beyond their reach, in less than half an hour they will retire into the nest; and before they have all entered, you will see the labourers in motion, hastening in various directions towards the breach, every one carrying in his mouth a ma.s.s of mortar, half as big as his body, ready tempered; this mortar is made of the finest parts of the gravel, which they probably select in the subterranean pits or pa.s.sages before described, which, worked up to a proper consistence, hardens to the solid substance resembling stone, of which their nests are constructed: they never appear to embarra.s.s or interrupt one another. By the united labours of such an infinite host of creatures, the wall soon rises, and the breach is repaired.

While the labourers are thus employed, almost all the soldiers have retired quite out of sight, except here and there one, who saunters about amongst the labourers, but never a.s.sists in the work. One in particular places himself close to the wall which they are building; and turning himself leisurely on all sides, as if to survey the proceedings, appears to act the part of an overseer of the works. Every now and then, at the interval of a minute or two, by lifting up his head and striking his forceps upon the wall of the nest, he makes a particular noise, which is answered by a loud hiss from all the labourers, and appears to be a signal for dispatch; for, every time it is heard, they may be seen to redouble their pace, and apply to their work with increased diligence. Renew the attack, and this amusing scene will be repeated: in rush the labourers, all disappearing in a few seconds, and out march the military, as numerous and vindictive as before. When all is once more quiet, the busy labourers re-appear, and resume their work, and the soldiers vanish. Repeat the experiment a hundred times, and the same will always be the result; you will never find, be the peril or emergency ever so great, that one order attempts to fight, or the other to work.

We have seen how solicitous the termites are to move and work under cover, and concealed from observation: this, however, is not always the case; there is a species larger than _T. bellicosus_, whose proceedings we have been princ.i.p.ally describing, which Mr. Smeathman calls the marching Termes (_Termes viarum_). He was once pa.s.sing through a thick forest, when on a sudden, a loud hiss, like that of serpents, struck him with alarm. The next step produced a repet.i.tion of the sound, which he then recognized to be that of white ants; yet he was surprised at seeing none of their hills or covering ways. Following the noise, to his great astonishment and delight, he saw an army of these creatures emerging from a hole in the ground; their number was prodigious, and they marched with the utmost celerity. When they had proceeded about a yard, they divided into two columns, chiefly composed of labourers, about fifteen abreast, and following each other in close order, and going straight forward. Here and there was seen a soldier, carrying his vast head with apparent difficulty, and looking like an ox in a flock of sheep, who marched on in the same manner. At the distance of a foot or two from the columns, many other soldiers were to be seen, standing still or pacing about as if upon the look-out, lest some enemy should suddenly surprise their unwarlike comrades; other soldiers, (which was the most extraordinary and amusing part of the scene,) having mounted some plants, and placed themselves on the points of their leaves, elevated from ten to fifteen inches from the ground, hung over the army marching below, and by striking their forceps upon the leaf, produced at intervals the noise above-mentioned. To this signal the whole army returned a hiss, and obeyed it by increasing their pace. The soldiers at these signal-stations sat quite still during the interval of silence, except now and then making a slight turn of the head, and seemed as solicitous to keep their posts as regular sentinels. The two columns of this army united, after continuing separate from twelve to fifteen paces, having in no part been above three yards asunder, and then descended into the earth by two or three holes. Mr. Smeathman continued watching them for above an hour, during which time their numbers appeared neither to increase nor diminish: the soldiers, however, who quitted the line of march and acted as sentinels, became much more numerous before he quitted the spot. The larvae and neuters of this species are furnished with eyes.

The societies of _Termes lucifergus_, discovered by Latreille, at Bourdeaux, are very numerous; but instead of erecting artificial nests, they make their lodgment in the trunks of pines and oaks, where the branches diverge from the tree. They eat the wood nearest the bark, or the alburnum, without attacking the interior, and bore a vast number of holes and irregular galleries. That part of the wood appears moist, and is covered with little gelatinous particles, not unlike gum-arabic. These insects seem to be furnished with an acid of a very penetrating odour, which, perhaps, is useful to them for penetrating the wood. The soldiers in these societies are as about one to twenty-five of the labourers.

The anonymous author of the observations on the termites of Ceylon, seems to have discovered a sentry-box in his nests. "I found," says he, "in a very small cell in the middle of the solid ma.s.s, (a cell about half an inch in height, and very narrow,) a larva with an enormous head. Two of these individuals were in the same cell; one of the two seemed placed as sentinel at the entrance of the cell. I amused myself by forcing the door two or three times; the sentinel immediately appeared, and only retreated when the door was on the point of being stopped up, which was done by the labourers."

THE GREEN ANTS.--Captain Cook gives the following account of a very peculiar kind of ants, which he met with at Botany Bay.--"They are as green as a leaf. They live upon trees, where they build their nests. The nests are of a very curious structure: they are formed by bending down several of the leaves, each of which is as broad as a man's hand; they glue the points of them together, so as to form a purse. The viscus used for this purpose is an animal juice, which nature has enabled them to elaborate. Their method of first bending down the leaves, our naturalists had not an opportunity of observing; but they saw thousands uniting all their strength to hold them in this position, while other busy mult.i.tudes were employed within, in applying the gluten that was to prevent their returning back. To satisfy themselves that the leaves were bent and held down by the efforts of these diminutive artificers, our people disturbed them in their work, and, as soon as they were driven from their station, the leaves on which they were employed sprang up with a force much greater than they could have thought them able to conquer, by any combination of their strength."

THE VISITING ANTS.--At Paramaribo, a Dutch colony in the province of Surinam, there is a species of ants, which the Portuguese call visiting ants: they march in troops, and as soon as they appear, all the coffers and chests of drawers are laid open, which they clear of rats, mice, and a peculiar sort of insect in that country, called _cackerlacks_, and of other noxious animals. If any one chance to molest them, they fall upon him, and tear in pieces his stockings and shoes. Their visits are rare; and sometimes they do not appear for three years.--_Templeman's Obs._ vol.

i. p. 36.

We conclude this chapter with an account of THE ANT-LION.--There is no insect more remarkable for its dexterity than the ant-lion, though its figure announces nothing extraordinary. It nearly resembles the woodlouse; its body being provided with six feet, composed of several membranous rings, and terminated in a point. Its head, flat and square, is armed with two moveable crooked horns, whose singular structure shews how admirable Nature is, even in the least of her works.

This insect is the most subtle and dangerous enemy the ant has; the plans which he forms to ensnare his prey, are very ingenious. He mines a portion of land in the form of a funnel, at the bottom of which he waits to seize the ants, which coming by chance to the edge of the precipice, are thence hurried down to their merciless foe. In order to dig it, he first traces in the sand a circular furrow, whose circ.u.mference forms precisely the mouth of the funnel, the diameter of which is always equal to the depth he gives to his ditch. When he has determined the s.p.a.ce of this opening, and traced the first furrow, he immediately digs a second, concentric to the other, in order to throw out all the sand contained in the first circle.

He makes all these operations with his head, which serves him instead of a shovel, and its flat and square form admirably adapts it to this purpose.

He also takes some sand with one of his fore feet, to throw it beyond the first furrow; and this work is repeated till the insect has reached a certain depth of sand. Sometimes, in digging, he meets with grains of sand larger than usual, or with little bits of dry earth, which he will not suffer to remain in his tunnel; of these he disenc.u.mbers himself by a sudden and well-timed manoeuvre of his head. Should he find particles yet larger, he endeavours to push them away with his back, and he is so a.s.siduous in this labour, that he repeats it six or seven times.

At length the ant-lion comes to collect the fruits of his toil. His nets being once well laid, he has nothing to do but to put himself on the watch; accordingly, immoveable and concealed at the bottom of the ditch which he has dug, he patiently waits for the prey which he cannot pursue.

If some unhappy ant is inadvertently drawn to the borders of this fatal precipice, she is almost sure to roll down to the bottom, because the brink is made sloping, and thus the sand giving way beneath her feet, she is forced to follow the dangerous declivity till she falls into the power of her destroyer, who, by means of his horns, draws her under the sand, and feasts upon her blood. When he has sucked all the juices from her body, he contrives to eject from his habitation the dry and hollow carcase, repairs any damage his trench may have sustained, and puts himself again in ambush. He does not always succeed in seizing his prey at the moment of its fall; it frequently escapes him, and endeavours to remount the funnel; but then the ant-lion works with his head, and causes a shower of sand to descend upon his captive, and precipitate it once more to the bottom.

All the actions of this little animal display an art so extraordinary, that we might often examine them without being wearied. The ant-lion employs itself in preparing trenches even before having seen the animal which they are to ensnare, and which is to serve it for nourishment; and yet its actions are regulated in a manner the best adapted to accomplish these purposes.

How would an animal, so dest.i.tute of agility, have been able to entrap its prey more easily than by digging in a moveable sand, and giving a sloping declivity to this funnel? What better stratagem could it have devised for recovering the ants which were on the point of escaping even from this skilfully constructed snare, than in overwhelming them with showers of sand, and thus cutting off all hopes of a retreat? All its actions have fixed principles by which they are directed. The trench must be dug in the sand, or it could not answer the desired purpose; and it must, according to the structure of its body, work backwards, using its horns like a pair of pincers, in order to throw the sand over the brink of the funnel. The instinct which governs this insect, discovers to us a First Cause, whose intelligence has foreseen and ordained every thing that was necessary for the preservation and well-being of such an animal.

CHAP. XXVI.

CURIOSITIES RESPECTING INSECTS.--(_Continued._)

_The Spider--Ingenuity of the Spider--Spider tamed--Curious Anecdote of a Spider, &c._

THE SPIDER.

The spider's touch, how exquisitely fine!

Feels at each thread, and lives along the line.

_Pope._

One of the largest of the European spiders is the _Aranea diadema_ of Linnaeus, which is extremely common in our own country, and is chiefly seen during the autumnal season, in gardens, &c. The body of this species, when full grown, is not much inferior in size to a small hazel-nut: the abdomen is beautifully marked by a longitudinal series of round or drop-shaped milk-white spots, crossed by others of similar appearance, so as to represent, in some degree, the pattern of a small diadem. This spider, in the months of September and October, forms, in some convenient spot or shelter, a large round close or thick web of yellow silk, in which it deposits its eggs, guarding the round web with a secondary one of a looser texture. The young are hatched in the ensuing May, the parent insects dying towards the close of autumn. The aranea diadema being one of the largest of the common spiders, serves to exemplify some of the princ.i.p.al characters of the genus in a clearer manner than most others. At the tip of the abdomen are placed five papillae, or teats, through which the insect draws its thread; and as each of these papillae is furnished with a vast number of foramina or outlets, disposed over its whole surface, it follows, that what we commonly term a spider's thread, is in reality formed of a collection of a great many distinct ones; the animal possessing the power of drawing out more or fewer at pleasure; and if it should draw from all the foramina at once, the thread might consist of many hundred distinct filaments. The eyes, which are situated on the upper part or front of the thorax, are eight in number, placed at a small distance from each other, and have the appearance of the stemmata in the generality of insects. The fangs, or piercers, with which the animal wounds its prey, are strong, curved, sharp-pointed, and each furnished on the inside, near the tip, with a small oblong hole or slit, through which is injected a poisonous fluid into the wound made by the point itself, these organs operating in miniature on the same principle with the fangs in poisonous serpents. The feet are highly curious, the two claws, with which each is terminated, being furnished on its under side with several parallel processes, resembling the teeth of a comb, and enabling the animal to dispose and manage, with the utmost facility, the disposition of the threads in its web, &c.

The _Aranea tarantula_, or Tarantula spider, of which so many idle recitals have been detailed in the works of the learned, and which, even to this day, continues in some countries to exercise the faith and ignorance of the vulgar, is a native of the warmer parts of Italy, and other warm European regions, and is generally found in dry and sunny plains. It is the largest of all the European spiders; but the extraordinary symptoms supposed to ensue from the bite of this insect, as well as their supposed cure by the power of music alone, are entirely fabulous, and are now sufficiently exploded among all rational philosophers. The gigantic _Aranea avicularia_, or Bird-catching spider, is not uncommon in many parts of the East Indies and South America, where it resides among trees, frequently seizing on small birds, which it destroys by wounding with its fangs, and sucking their blood.

During the early part of the last century, a project was entertained by a French gentleman, Monsieur Bon, of Montpellier, of inst.i.tuting a manufacture of spiders' silk; and the Royal Academy, to which the scheme was proposed, appointed the ingenious Reaumur to repeat the experiments of M. Bon, in order to ascertain how far the proposed plan might be carried: but, after making the proper trials, M. Reaumur found it to be impracticable, on account of the natural disposition of these animals, which is such as will by no means admit of their living peaceably together in large numbers. M. Reaumur also computed that 663,522 spiders would scarcely furnish a single pound of silk. Monsieur Bon, however, the first projector, carried his experiments so far as to obtain two or three pairs of stockings and gloves of this silk, which were of an elegant gray colour, and were presented, as samples, to the Royal Academy. It must be observed, that in this manufacture it is the silk of the egg-bags alone that can be used, being far stronger than that of the webs. Monsieur Bon collected twelve or thirteen ounces of these, and having caused them to be well cleared of dust, by properly beating with sticks, he washed them perfectly clean in warm water. After this, they were laid to steep, in a large vessel, with soap, saltpetre, and gum-arabic. The whole was left to boil over a gentle fire for three hours, and was afterwards again washed to get out the soap; then laid to dry for some days, after which it was carded, but with much smaller cards than ordinary. The silk is easily spun into a fine and strong thread; the difficulty being only to collect the silk-bags in sufficient quant.i.ty.

There remains one more particularity in the history of spiders, viz. the power of flight. It is princ.i.p.ally in the autumnal season that these diminutive adventurers ascend the air, and contribute to fill it with that infinity of floating cobwebs, which are so peculiarly conspicuous at that period of the year. When inclined to make these aerial excursions, the spider ascends some slight eminence, as the top of a wall, or the branch of a tree; and turning itself with its head towards the wind, protrudes several threads, and, rising from its station, commits itself to the gale, and is thus carried far beyond the height of the loftiest towers, and enjoys the pleasure of a clearer atmosphere. During their flight, it is probable that spiders employ themselves in catching such minute winged insects as may happen to occur in their progress; and when satisfied with their journey and their prey, they suffer themselves to fall, by contracting their limbs, and gradually disengaging themselves from the thread.

These insects are but ill calculated to live in society. Whenever thus stationed, they never fail to wage war with each other. The females, in particular, are of a disposition peculiarly capricious and malignant; and it is observed, that they sometimes spring upon the males, and destroy them. On this occasion, says Linnaeus, if ever, may be justly applied the Ovidian line:--

Res est solliciti plena timoris amor!

The following is a notable instance of the INGENUITY OF THE SPIDER. T. A.

Knight, Esq. of Herefords.h.i.+re, has, in a Treatise on the Culture of the Apple and Pear, introduced the following concerning this curious insect.--

"I have frequently placed a spider on a small upright stick, whose base was surrounded by water, to observe its most singular mode of escape.

After having discovered that the ordinary means of escape are cut off, it ascends the point of the stick, and, standing nearly on its head, ejects its web, which the wind readily carries to some contiguous object. Along this, the sagacious insect effects its escape, not however till it has previously ascertained, by several exertions of its whole strength, that its web is properly attached to the opposite end. I do not know that this instance of sagacity has been mentioned by any entomological writer, and I insert it here in consequence of the erroneous accounts of some periodical publications, of the spider's threads, which are observed to pa.s.s from one tree or bush to another in dewy mornings."

The reader will be pleased with the following account of A SPIDER TAMED, given by the Abbe d'Olivet, author of the Life of Pelisson, in the following pa.s.sage:--

"Confined at that time in a solitary place, and where the light of day only penetrated through a mere slit, having no other servant than a stupid and dull clown, a Basque, who was continually playing on the bagpipes, Pelisson studied by what means to secure himself against an enemy, which a good conscience alone cannot always repel; I mean, the attacks of unemployed imagination, which, when it once exceeds proper limits, becomes the most cruel torture of a recluse individual. He adopted the following stratagem:--Perceiving a spider spinning her web at the spiracle, he undertook to tame her; and to effect this, he placed some flies on the edge of the opening, while the Basque was playing on his favourite bagpipe. The spider by degrees accustomed herself to distinguish the sound of that instrument, and to run from her hole to seize her prey; thus, by means of always calling her out by the same tune, and placing the flies nearer and nearer his own seat, after several months' exercise, he succeeded in training the spider so well, that she would start at the first signal, to seize a fly at the farthest end of the room, and even on the knees of the prisoner."

It has been stated, that a prisoner confined in the Bastile, retained his senses, contrary to expectation, by playing daily so many games at push-pin; he having, unknown to his keepers, secreted a battalion or two of these hostile implements. The device of Pelisson is more interesting to us, as we learn from it, that the spider, though amongst the most quarrelsome of insects, yet is capable of being rendered familiar by the reason and perseverance of man.

In the introduction to a modern Entomology there is a description of the process by which the spider weaves its web. After describing the four spinners, as they are termed, from which the visible threads proceed, the writer makes the following curious observations:--"These are machinery, through which, by a process more singular than that of rope-spinning, the thread is drawn. Each spinner is pierced, like the plate of a wire-drawer, with a mult.i.tude of holes, so numerous, and exquisitely fine, that a s.p.a.ce often not larger than a pin's point includes a thousand. Through each of these holes proceeds a thread of inconceivable tenuity, which, immediately after issuing from the orifice, unites with all the other threads from the spinner, into one. Hence, from each spinner proceeds a compound thread; and these four threads, at the distance of about one-tenth of an inch from the apex of the spinner, again unite, and form the thread we are accustomed to see, which the spider uses in forming its web. Thus, a spider's web, even spun by the smallest species, and when so fine that it is almost imperceptible to our senses, is not, as we suppose, a straight line, but a rope, composed of at least 400 yarns."

We shall close this chapter with a CURIOUS ANECDOTE OF A SPIDER, connected with observations on the utility of ants in destroying venomous creatures; by Captain Bagnold.

"Desirous of ascertaining the natural food of the scorpion, I inclosed one (which measured three-quarters of an inch from the head to the insertion of the tail) in a wide-mouthed phial, together with one of those large spiders so common in the West Indies, and closed it with a cork, perforated by a quill for the admission of air. The insects seemed carefully to avoid each other, retiring to opposite ends of the bottle, which was placed horizontally. By giving it a gradual inclination, the scorpion was forced into contact with the spider, when a sharp encounter took place, the latter receiving repeated stings from his venomous adversary, apparently without the least injury; while, with his web, he soon lashed the scorpion's tail to his back, and afterwards secured his legs and claws with the same materials. In this state I left them some time, in order to observe what effect would be produced on the spider, by the wounds he had received. On my return, however, I was disappointed, the ants having entered, and destroyed them both.

"In the West Indies I have daily witnessed crowds of these little insects destroying the spider or c.o.c.kroach, which, as soon as he is dispatched, they carry to their nest. I have frequently seen them drag their prey perpendicularly up the wall, and, although the weight would overcome their united efforts, and fall to the ground, perhaps twenty times in succession, yet, by unremitting perseverance, and the aid of reinforcements, they always succeeded.

"A struggle of this description once amused the officers of his majesty's s.h.i.+p Retribution, for nearly half an hour: a large centipede entered the gun-room, surrounded by an immense concourse of ants; the deck, for four or five feet round, was covered with them; his body and limbs were encrusted with his lilliputian enemies; and although thousands were destroyed by his exertions to escape, they ultimately carried him in triumph to their dwelling.

"In the woods near Sierra Leone, I have several times seen the entire skeletons of the snake beautifully dissected by these minute anatomists."

From these circ.u.mstances it would appear, that ants are a considerable check to the increase of those venomous reptiles, so troublesome in the torrid zone; and their industry, perseverance, courage, and numerical force, seem to strengthen the conjecture: in which case they amply remunerate us for their own depredations.

CHAP. XXVII.