I turned another (to me) new page in natural history, when, during
the past season, I made the acquaintance of the sand wasp or
hornet. From boyhood I had known the black hornet, with his large
paper nest, and the spiteful yellow-jacket, with his lesser
domicile, and had cherished proper contempt for the various
indolent wasps. But the sand hornet was a new bird,--in fact, the
harpy eagle among insects,--and he made an impression. While
walking along the road about midsummer, I noticed working in the
towpath, where the ground was rather inclined to be dry and sandy,
a large yellow hornet-like insect. It made a hole the size of one's
little finger in the hard, gravelly path beside the roadbed. When
disturbed, it alighted on the dirt and sand in the middle of the
road. I had noticed in my walks some small bullet-like holes in
the field that had piqued my curiosity, and I determined to keep an
eye on these insects of the roadside. I explored their holes, and
found them quite shallow, and no mystery at the bottom of them. One
morning in the latter part of July, walking that way, I was quickly
attracted by the sight of a row of little mounds of fine, freshly
dug earth resting upon the grass beside the road, a foot or more
beneath the path. "What is this?" I said. "Mice, or squirrels, or
snakes," said my neighbor. But I connected it at once with the
strange insect I had seen. Neither mice nor squirrels work like
that, and snakes do not dig. Above each mound of earth was a hole
the size of one's largest finger, leading into the bank. While
speculating about the phenomenon, I saw one of the large yellow
hornets I had observed quickly enter one of the holes. That
settled the query. While spade and hoe were being brought to dig
him out, another hornet appeared, heavy-laden with some prey, and
flew humming up and down and around the place where I was standing.
I withdrew a little, when he quickly alighted upon one of the
mounds of earth, and I saw him carrying into his den no less an
insect than the cicada or harvest-fly. Then another came, and after
coursing up and down a few times, disturbed by my presence,
alighted upon a tree, with his quarry, to rest. The black hornet
will capture a fly, or a small butterfly, and, after breaking and
dismembering it, will take it to his nest; but here was this hornet
carrying an insect much larger than himself, and flying with ease
and swiftness. It was as if a hawk should carry a hen, or an eagle
a turkey. I at once proceeded to dig for one of the hornets, and,
after following his hole about three feet under the footpath and to
the edge of the roadbed, succeeded in capturing him and recovering
the cicada. The hornet weighed fifteen grains, and the cicada
nineteen; but in bulk the cicada exceeded the hornet by more than
half. In color, the wings and thorax, or waist, of the hornet were
a rich bronze; the abdomen was black, with three irregular yellow
bands; the legs were large and powerful, especially the third or
hindmost pair, which were much larger than the others, and armed
with many spurs and hooks. In digging its hole the hornet has been
seen at work very early in the morning. It backed out with the
loosened material, like any other animal under the same
circumstances, holding and scraping back the dirt with its legs.
The preliminary prospecting upon the footpath, which I had
observed, seems to have been the work of the males, as it was
certainly of the smaller hornets, and the object was doubtless to
examine the ground, and ascertain if the place was suitable for
nesting. By digging two or three inches through the hard, gravelly
surface of the road, a fine sandy loam was discovered, which seemed
to suit exactly, for in a few days the main shafts were all started
in the greensward, evidently upon the strength of the favorable
report which the surveyors had made. These were dug by the larger
hornets or females. There was but one inhabitant in each hole, and
the holes were two or three feet apart. One that we examined had
nine chambers or galleries at the end of it, in each of which were
two locusts, or eighteen in all. The locusts of the locality had
suffered great slaughter. Some of them in the hole or den had been
eaten to a mere shell by the larvæ of the hornet. Under the wing
of each insect an egg is attached; the egg soon hatches, and the
grub at once proceeds to devour the food its thoughtful parent has
provided. As it grows, it weaves itself a sort of shell or cocoon,
in which, after a time, it undergoes its metamorphosis, and comes
out, I think, a perfect insect toward the end of summer.
I understood now the meaning of that sudden cry of alarm I had so
often heard proceed from the locust or cicada, followed by some
object falling and rustling amid the leaves; the poor insect was
doubtless in the clutches of this arch enemy. A number of locusts
usually passed the night on the under side of a large limb of a
mulberry-tree near by: early one morning a hornet was seen to
pounce suddenly upon one and drag it over on the top of the limb; a
struggle ensued, but the locust was soon quieted and carried off.
It is said that the hornet does not sting the insect in a vital
part,--for in that case it would not keep fresh for its young,--but
introduces its poison into certain nervous ganglia, the injury to
which has the effect of paralyzing the victim and making it
incapable of motion, though life remains for some time.
My friend Van, who watched the hornets in my absence, saw a fierce
battle one day over the right of possession of one of the dens. An
angry, humming sound was heard to proceed from one of the holes;
gradually it approached the surface, until the hornets emerged
locked in each other's embrace, and rolled down the little
embankment, where the combat was continued. Finally, one released
his hold and took up his position in the mouth of his den (of
course I should say SHE and HER, as these were the queen hornets),
where she seemed to challenge her antagonist to come on. The other
one manuvred about awhile, but could not draw her enemy out of her
stronghold; then she clambered up the bank and began to bite and
tear off bits of grass, and to loosen gravel-stones and earth, and
roll them down into the mouth of the disputed passage. This caused
the besieged hornet to withdraw farther into her hole, when the
other came down and thrust in her head, but hesitated to enter.
After more manuvering, the aggressor withdrew, and began to bore a
hole about a foot from the one she had tried to possess herself of
by force.
Besides the cicada, the sand hornet captures grasshoppers and other
large insects. I have never met with it before the present summer
(1879), but this year I have heard of its appearance at several
points along the Hudson.