through which the caterpillars were inserted, and when cells are placed
end to end, as they are in many instances, the outward end of each is
always selected. I cannot detect any difference in the thickness in the
crust of the cell to cause this uniformity of practice. It is often as
much as half an inch through, of great hardness, and as far as I can see
impervious to air and light. How then does the enclosed fly always
select the right end, and with what secretion is it supplied to
decompose this mortar?"]
A formidable species (_Sphex ferruginea_ of St. Fargeau), which is
common to India and most of the eastern islands, is regarded with the
utmost dread by the unclad natives, who fly precipitately on finding
themselves in the vicinity[1] of its nests. These are of such ample
dimensions, that when suspended from a branch, they often measure
upwards of six feet in length.[2]
[Footnote 1: It ought to be remembered in travelling in the forests of
Ceylon that sal volatile applied immediately is a specific for the sting
of a wasp.]
[Footnote 2: At the January (1839) meeting of the Entomological Society,
Mr. Whitehouse exhibited portions of a wasps' nest from Ceylon, between
seven and eight feet long and two feet in diameter, and showed that the
construction of the cells was perfectly analogous to those of the hive
bee, and that when connected each has a tendency to assume a circular
outline. In one specimen where there were three cells united the outer
part was circular, whilst the portions common to the three formed
straight walls. From this Singhalese nest Mr. Whitehouse demonstrated
that the wasps at the commencement of their comb proceed slowly, forming
the bases of several together, whereby they assume the hexagonal shape,
whereas, if constructed separately, he thought each single cell would be
circular. See _Proc. Ent. Soc._, vol. iii. p. 16.]
_Bees._--Bees of several species and genera, some unprovided with
stings, and some in size scarcely exceeding a house-fly, deposit their
honey in hollow trees, or suspend their combs from a branch. The spoils
of their industry form one of the chief resources of the uncivilised
Veddahs, who collect the wax in the upland forests, to be bartered for
arrow points and clothes in the lowlands.[1] I have never heard of an
instance of persons being attacked by the bees of Ceylon, and hence the
natives assert, that those most productive of honey are destitute of
stings.
[Footnote 1: A gentleman connected with the department of the
Surveyor-General writes to me that he measured a honey-comb which he
found fastened to the overhanging branch of a small tree in the forest
near Adam's Peak, and found it nine links of his chain or about six feet
in length and a foot in breadth where it was attached to the branch, but
tapering towards the other extremity. "It was a single comb with a layer
of cells on either side, but so weighty that the branch broke by the
strain."]
_The Carpenter Bee._--The operations of one of the most interesting of
the tribe, the Carpenter bee[1], I have watched with admiration from the
window of the Colonial Secretary's official residence at Kandy. So soon
as the day grew warm, these active creatures were at work perforating
the wooden columns which supported the verandah. They poised themselves
on their shining purple wings, as they made the first lodgment in the
wood, enlivening the work with an uninterrupted hum of delight, which
was audible to a considerable distance. When the excavation had
proceeded so far that the insect could descend into it, the music was
suspended, but renewed from time to time, as the little creature came to
the orifice to throw out the chips, to rest, or to enjoy the fresh air.
By degrees, a mound of saw-dust was formed at the base of the pillar,
consisting of particles abraded by the mandibles of the bee. These, when
the hollow was completed to the depth of several inches, were partially
replaced in the excavation after being agglutinated to form partitions
between the eggs, as they were deposited within. The mandibles[2] of
these bees are admirably formed for the purpose of working out the
tunnels required, being short, stout, and usually furnished at the tip
with two teeth which are rounded somewhat into the form of
cheese-cutters.
[Footnote 1: _Xylocopa tenuiscapa_, Westw.; Another species found in
Ceylon is the _X. latipes_, Drury.]
[Footnote 2: See figure above.]
[Illustration: THE CARPENTER BEE]
These when brought into operation cut out the wood in the same way as a
carpenter's double gouge, the teeth being more or less hollowed out
within. The female alone is furnished with these powerful instruments.
In the males the mandibles are slender as compared with those of the
females. The bores of some of these bees are described as being from
twelve to fourteen inches in length.
_Ants_.--As to ants, I apprehend that, notwithstanding their numbers and
familiarity, information is very imperfect relative to the varieties and
habits of these marvellous insects in Ceylon.[1] In point of multitude
it is scarcely an exaggeration to apply to them the figure of "the sands
of the sea." They are everywhere; in the earth, in the houses, and on
the trees; they are to be seen in every room and cupboard, and almost on
every plant in the jungle. To some of the latter they are, perhaps,
attracted by the sweet juices secreted by the aphides and coccidæ.[2]
Such is the passion of the ants for sugar, and their wonderful faculty
of discovering it, that the smallest particle of a substance containing
it is quickly covered with them, though placed in the least conspicuous
position, where not a single one may have been visible a moment before.
But it is not sweet substances alone that they attack; no animal or
vegetable matter comes amiss to them: no aperture appears too small to
admit them; it is necessary to place everything which it may be
desirable to keep free from their invasion, under the closest cover, or
on tables with cups of water under every foot. As scavengers, they are
invaluable; and as ants never sleep, but work without cessation during
the night as well as by day, every particle of decaying vegetable or
putrid animal matter is removed with inconceiveable speed and certainty.
In collecting shells, I have been able to turn this propensity to good
account; by placing them within their reach, the ants in a few days
removed every vestige of the mollusc from the innermost and otherwise
inaccessible whorls; thus avoiding all risk of injuring the enamel by
any mechanical process.
[Footnote 1: Mr. Jerdan, in a series of papers in the thirteenth volume
of the _Annals of Natural History_, has described forty-seven species of
ants in Southern India. But M. Nietner has recently forwarded to the
Berlin Museum upwards of seventy species taken by him in Ceylon, chiefly
in the western province and the vicinity of Colombo. Of these many are
identical with those noted by Mr. Jerdan as belonging to the Indian
continent. One (probably _Drepanognathus saltator_ of Jerdan) is
described by M. Nietner as occasionally "moving by jumps of several
inches at a spring."]
[Footnote 2: Dr. DAVY, in a paper on Tropical Plants, has introduced the
following passage relative to the purification of sugar by ants:
"If the juice of the sugar-cane--the common syrup as expressed by the
mill--be exposed to the air, it gradually evaporates, yielding a
light-brown residue, like the ordinary muscovado sugar of the best
quality. If not protected, it is presently attacked by ants, and in a
short time is, as it were, converted into white crystalline sugar, the
ants having refined it by removing the darker portion, probably
preferring that part from it containing azotized matter. The negroes, I
may remark, prefer brown sugar to white: they say its sweetening power
is greater; no doubt its nourishing quality is greater, and therefore as
an article of diet deserving of preference. In refining sugar as in
refining salt (coarse bay salt containing a little iodine), an error may
be committed in abstracting matter designed by nature for a useful
purpose."]
But the assaults of the ants are not confined to dead animals alone,
they attack equally such small insects as they can overcome, or find
disabled by accidents or wounds; and it is not unusual to see some
hundreds of them surrounding a maimed beetle, or a bruised cockroach,
and hurrying it along in spite of its struggles. I have, on more than
one occasion, seen a contest between, them and one of the viscous
ophidians, _Cæcilia, glutinosa_[1], a reptile resembling an enormous
earthworm, common in the Kandyan hills, of an inch in diameter, and
nearly two feet in length. On these occasions it would seem as if the
whole community had been summoned and turned out for such a prodigious
effort; they surround their victim literally in tens of thousands,
inflicting wounds on all parts, and forcing it along towards their nest
in spite of resistance. In one instance to which I was a witness, the
conflict lasted for the latter part of a day, but towards evening the
Coecilia was completely exhausted, and in the morning it had totally
disappeared, having been carried away either whole or piecemeal by its
assailants.
[Footnote 1: See _ante_, p. 317.]
The species I here allude to is a very small ant, which the Singhalese
call by the generic name of _Koombiya_. There is a species still more
minute, and evidently distinct, which frequents the caraffes and toilet
vessels. A third, probably the _Formica nidificans_ of Jerdan, is black,
of the same size as that last mentioned, and, from its colour, called
the _Kalu koombiga_ by the natives. In the houses its propensities and
habits are the same as those of the others; but I have observed that it
frequents the trees more profusely, forming small paper cells for its
young, like miniature wasps' nests, in which it deposits its eggs,
suspending them from a twig.
The most formidable of all is the great red ant or Dimiya.[1] It is
particularly abundant in gardens, and on fruit trees; it constructs its
dwellings by glueing the leaves of such species as are suitable from
their shape and pliancy into hollow balls, and these it lines with a
kind of transparent paper, like that manufactured by the wasp. I have
watched them at the interesting operation of forming these dwellings;--a
line of ants standing on the edge of one leaf bring another into contact
with it, and hold both together with their mandibles till their
companions within attach them firmly by means of their adhesive paper,
the assistants outside moving along as the work proceeds. If it be
necessary to draw closer a leaf too distant to be laid hold of by the
immediate workers, they form a chain by depending one from the other
till the object is reached, when it is at length brought into contact,
and made fast by cement.
[Footnote 1: _Formica smaragdina,_ Fab.]
Like all their race, these ants are in perpetual motion, forming lines
on the ground along which they pass, in continual procession to and from
the trees on which they reside. They are the most irritable of the whole
order in Ceylon, biting with such intense ferocity as to render it
difficult for the unclad natives to collect the fruit from the mango
trees, which the red ants especially frequent. They drop from the
branches upon travellers in the jungle, attacking them with venom and
fury, and inflicting intolerable pain both upon animals and man. On
examining the structure of the head through a microscope, I found that
the mandibles, instead of merely meeting in contact, are so hooked as to
cross each other at the points, whilst the inner line is sharply
serrated throughout its entire length; thus occasioning the intense pain
of their bite, as compared with that of the ordinary ant.
To check the ravages of the coffee bug[1] (_Lecanium coffeæ_, Walker),
which for some years past has devastated some of the plantations in
Ceylon, the experiment was made of introducing the red ants, who feed
greedily on the Coccus. But the remedy threatened to be attended with
some inconvenience, for the Malabar Coolies, with bare and oiled skins,
were so frequently and fiercely assaulted by the ants as to endanger
their stay on the estates.
[Footnote 1: For an account of this pest, see p. 437.]
The ants which burrow in the ground in Ceylon are generally, but not
invariably, black, and some of them are of considerable size. One
species, about the third of an inch in length, is abundant in the hills,
and especially about the roots of trees, where they pile up the earth in
circular heaps round the entrance to their nests, and in doing this I
have observed a singular illustration of their instinct. To carry up
each particle of sand by itself would be an endless waste of labour, and
to carry two or more loose ones securely would be to them embarrassing,
if not impossible. To overcome the difficulty they glue together with
their saliva so much earth or sand as is sufficient for a burden, and
each ant may be seen hurrying up from below with his load, carrying it
to the top of the circular heap outside, and throwing it over, the mass
being so strongly attached as to roll to the bottom without breaking
asunder.
The ants I have been here describing are inoffensive, differing in this
particular from the Dimiya and another of similar size and ferocity,
which is called by the Singhalese _Kaddiya_. They have a legend
illustrative of their alarm for the bites of the latter, to the effect
that the cobra de capello invested the Kaddiya with her own venom in
admiration of the singular courage displayed by these little
creatures.[1]
[Footnote 1: KNOX'S _Historical Relation of Ceylon_, pt. i. ch. vi. p.
23.]
LEPIDOPTERA. _Butterflies_.--In the interior of the island butterflies
are comparatively rare, and, contrary to the ordinary belief, they are
seldom to be seen in the sunshine. They frequent the neighbourhood of
the jungle, and especially the vicinity of the rivers and waterfalls,
living mainly in the shade of the moist foliage, and returning to it in
haste after the shortest flights, as if their slender bodies were
speedily dried up and exhausted by exposure to the intense heat.
Among the largest and most gaudy of the Ceylon Lepidoptera is the great
black and yellow butterfly (_Ornithoptera darsius_, Gray); the upper
wings of which measure six inches across, and are of deep velvet black,
the lower ornamented by large particles of satiny yellow, through which
the sunlight passes. Few insects can compare with it in beauty, as it
hovers over the flowers of the heliotrope, which furnish the favourite
food of the perfect fly, although the caterpillar feeds on the
aristolochia and the _betel leaf_, and suspends its chrysalis from its
drooping tendrils.
Next in size as to expanse of wing, though often exceeding it in
breadth, is the black and blue _Papilio Polymnestor_, which darts
rapidly through the air, alighting on the ruddy flowers of the hibiscus,
or the dark green foliage of the citrus, on which it deposits its eggs.
The larvæ of this species are green with white bands, and have a hump on
the fourth or fifth segment. From this hump the caterpillar, on being
irritated, protrudes a singular horn of an orange colour, bifurcate at
the extremity, and covered with a pungent mucilaginous secretion. This
is evidently intended as a weapon of defence against the attack of the
ichneumon flies, that deposit their eggs in its soft body, for when the
grub is pricked, either by the ovipositor of the ichneumon, or by any
other sharp instrument, the horn is at once protruded, and struck upon
the offending object with unerring aim.
Amongst the more common of the larger butterflies is the _P. Hector_,
with gorgeous crimson spots set in the black velvet of the inferior
wings; these, when fresh, are shot with a purple blush, equalling in
splendour the azure of the European "_Emperor._"
_The Spectre Butterfly._--Another butterfly, but belonging to a widely
different group, is the "sylph" (_Hestia Jasonia_), called by the
Europeans by the various names of _Floater, Spectre_, and _Silver-paper
fly_, as indicative of its graceful flight. It is found only in the deep
shade of the damp forest, usually frequenting the vicinity of pools of
water and cascades, about which it sails heedless of the spray, the
moisture of which may even be beneficial in preserving the elasticity of
its thin and delicate wings, that bend and undulate in the act of
flight.
The _Lycanidæ_[1], a particularly attractive group, abound near the
enclosures of cultivated grounds, and amongst the low shrubs edging the
patenas, flitting from flower to flower, inspecting each in turn, as if
attracted by their beauty, in the full blaze of sun-light; and shunning
exposure less sedulously than the other diurnals. Some of the more
robust kinds[2] are magnificent in the bright light, from the splendour
of their metallic blues and glowing purples, but they yield in elegance
of form and variety to their tinier and more delicately-coloured
congeners.
[Footnote 1: _Lycæna polyommatus, &c._]
[Footnote 2: _Amblypodia pseudocentaurus, &c._]
Short as is the eastern twilight, it has its own peculiar forms, and the
naturalist marks with interest the small, but strong, _Hesperidæ_[1],
hurrying, by abrupt and jerking flights, to the scented blossoms of the
champac or the sweet night-blowing moon-flower; and, when darkness
gathers around, we can hear, though hardly distinguish amid the gloom,
the humming of the powerful wings of innumerable hawk moths, which hover
with their long proboscides inserted into the starry petals of the
periwinkle.
[Footnote 1: _Pamphila hesperia, &c._]
Conspicuous amidst these nocturnal moths is the richly-coloured
_Acherontia Satanas_, one of the Singhalese representatives of our
Death's-head moth, which utters a sharp and stridulous cry when seized.
This sound has been conjectured to be produced by the friction of its
thorax against the abdomen;--Reaumur believed it to be caused by the
rubbing of the palpi against the tongue. I have never been able to
observe either motion, and Mr. E.L. Layard is of opinion that the sound
is emitted from two apertures concealed by tufts of wiry bristles thrown
out from each side of the inferior portion of the thorax.[1]
[Footnote 1: There is another variety of the same moth in Ceylon which
closely resembles it in its markings, but in which I have never detected
the uttering of this curious cry. It is smaller than the _A. Satanas_,
and, like it, often enters dwellings at night, attracted by the lights;
but I have not found its larvæ, although that of the other species is
common on several widely different plants.]
_Moths._--Among the strictly nocturnal _Lepidoptera_ are some gigantic
species. Of these the cinnamon-eating _Atlas_, often attains the
dimensions of nearly a foot in the stretch of its superior wings. It is
very common in the gardens about Colombo, and its size, and the
transparent talc-like spots in its wings, cannot fail to strike even the
most careless saunterer. But little inferior to it in size is the famed
Tusseh silk moth[1], which feeds on the country almond (_Terminalia
catappa_) and the palma Christi or Castor-oil plant; it is easily
distinguishable from the Atlas, which has a triangular wing, whilst its
is falcated, and the transparent spots are covered with a curious
thread-like division drawn across them.
[Footnote 1: _Antheræa mylitta,_ Drury.]
Towards the northern portions of the island this valuable species
entirely displaces the other, owing to the fact that the almond and
_palma Christi_ abound there. The latter plant springs up spontaneously
on every manure-heap or neglected spot of ground; and might be
cultivated, as in India, with great advantage, the leaf to be used as
food for the caterpillar, the stalk as fodder for cattle, and the seed
for the expression of castor-oil. The Dutch took advantage of this
facility, and gave every encouragement to the cultivation of silk at
Jaffna[1], but it never attained such a development as to become an
article of commercial importance. Ceylon now cultivates no silkworms
whatever, notwithstanding this abundance of the favourite food of one
species; and the rich silken robes sometimes worn by the Buddhist
priesthood are imported from China and the continent of India.
[Footnote 1: The Portuguese had made the attempt previous to the arrival
of the Dutch, and a strip of land on the banks of the Kalany river near
Colombo, still bears the name of Orta Seda, the silk garden. The attempt
of the Dutch to introduce the true silkworm, the _Bombyx mori_, took
place under the governorship; of Ryklof Van Goens, who, on handing over
the administration to his successor in A.D. 1663, thus apprises him of
the initiation of the experiment:--"At Jaffna Palace a trial has been
undertaken to feed silkworms, and to ascertain whether silk may be
reared at that station. I have planted a quantity of mulberry trees,
which grow well there, and they ought to be planted in other
directions."--VALENTYN, chap. xiii. The growth of the mulberry trees is
noticed the year after in a report to the governor-general of India, but
the subject afterwards ceased to be attended to.]
In addition to the Atlas moth and the Mylitta, there are many other
_Bombycidæ_; in Ceylon; and, though the silk of some of them, were it
susceptible of being unwound from the cocoon, would not bear a
comparison with that of the _Bombyx mori_, or even of the Tusseh moth,
it might still prove to be valuable when carded and spun. If the
European residents in the colony would rear the larvæ of these
Lepidoptera, and make drawings of their various changes, they would
render a possible service to commerce, and a certain one to
entomological knowledge.
_Stinging Caterpillars_.--The Dutch carried to their Eastern settlements
two of their home propensities, which distinguish and embellish the
towns of the Low Countries; they indulged in the excavation of canals,
and they planted long lines of trees to diffuse shade over the sultry
passages in their Indian fortresses. For the latter purpose they
employed the Suriya (_Hibiscus populneus_), whose broad umbrageous
leaves and delicate yellow flowers impart a delicious coolness, and give
to the streets of Galle and Colombo the fresh and enlivening aspect of
walks in a garden.
In the towns, however, the suriya trees are productive of one serious
inconvenience. They are the resort of a hairy greenish caterpillar[1],
longitudinally striped, great numbers of which frequent them, and at a
certain stage of growth descend by a silken thread to the ground and
hurry away, probably in search of a suitable spot in which to pass
through their metamorphoses. Should they happen to alight, as they often
do, upon some lounger below, and find their way to his unprotected skin,
they inflict, if molested, a sting as pungent, but far more lasting,
than that of a nettle or a star-fish.
[Footnote 1: The species of moth with which it is identified has not yet
been determined, but it most probably belongs to a section of
Boisduval's genus _Bombyx_ allied to _Cnethocampa_, Stephens.]
Attention being thus directed to the quarter whence an assailant has
lowered himself down, the caterpillars above will be found in clusters,
sometimes amounting to hundreds, clinging to the branches and the bark,
with a few straggling over the leaves or suspended from them by lines.
These pests are so annoying to children as well as destructive to the
foliage, that it is often necessary to singe them off the trees by a
flambeau fixed on the extremity of a pole; and as they fall to the
ground they are eagerly devoured by the crows and domestic fowls.[1]