Chapter VIII

THE WOOD–BORERS

OUR two species of Trypoxylon are both slender–waisted black wasps,

albopilosum having bunches of snowy white hairs on the first legs, and

measuring three quarters of an inch in length, while rubrocinctum is a

little smaller, and, as the name implies, wears a red girdle.

Although these wasps are called wood–borers, they will use convenient

cavities in any material. When we went out to our summer cottage, in

the last days of June, 1895, we found many little wasps of the species

Trypoxylon rubrocinctum busily working about a brick smoke–house on the

place. Closer examination showed that in the mortar between the bricks

were many little openings leading back for a considerable distance,

which were occupied by the wasps. It would seem that these holes were

excavated by some other agency than the wasps themselves, as they were

so much too deep for their purposes that before using them they built

a mud partition across the opening about an inch from the outside of

the wall. Later we found nests of the same species in the posts which

support an upper balcony of the cottage; and here, too, the wasps made

use of holes which were already excavated.

In the following summer we found large numbers of these wasps at work

in a straw–stack. The stack had been cut off perfectly smooth on one

side, so that many thousands of the cut ends of the straws were exposed

to view, and these proved very attractive to rubrocinctum. This species

is very cosmopolitan in its tastes, for we found it utilizing the

small holes in the sticks of a woodpile. The straws made the daintiest

nesting–places, however, and were well adapted to our purposes, since

they could be drawn out of the stack and split lengthwise so that the

contents could be easily studied. The two halves could then be brought

together again without injuring the inhabitants, and thus we often

kept several sets under observation long enough to watch the changes

from the egg to the pupa. We found Trypoxylon albopilosum nesting in

holes made by beetles in posts and trees, but never in straws. A third

species, bidentatum, was very common, nesting in the stems of plants.

During the month of August we saw many individuals of this species

hunting for spiders on the blackberry bushes; but at this time we were

so much absorbed in Crabro stirpicola that we never followed them to

their homes.

Rubrocinctum was more conveniently studied, and through July and August

we watched the comings and goings of these little wasps. They were very

good–tempered, never resenting our close proximity nor our interference

with their housekeeping. By working hard they could prepare a nest,

store it with spiders, and seal it up all in the same day. This we have

seen them do in several instances. In other cases the same operation

takes three or four days. In the second summer that we worked with them

we found one very energetic mother that stored four nests in one day.

It had rained hard on the twenty–sixth of July, and no wasp works in

such weather. On the afternoon of the twenty–seventh we took a straw

just as the little mother was bringing in a spider. We opened it and

found that the innermost cell contained eight Epeirids, with an egg on

the abdomen of the last one taken in; the second cell was provisioned

with ten spiders, with the egg on the seventh, so that three had been

brought in after it was laid; the third cell had the egg on the last

spider, as did also the fourth. All of these eggs hatched on the

twenty–ninth,—the two outer ones, that were laid last, between eight

and nine o’clock in the morning, and the two that were laid earlier

between two and three in the afternoon. This was the biggest day’s

hunting that we have ever recorded for any of our wasps.

With both species (T. rubrocinctum and T. albopilosum), when the

preliminary work of clearing the nest and erecting the inner partition

has been performed by the female, the male takes up his station inside

the cell, facing outward, his little head just filling the opening.

Here he stands on guard for the greater part of the time until the nest

is provisioned and sealed up, occasionally varying the monotony of his

task by a short flight. As a usual thing all the work is performed by

the female, who applies herself to her duties with greater or with less

industry according to her individual character; but the male doubtless

discharges an important office in protecting the nest from parasites.

We have frequently seen him drive away the brilliant green Chrysis fly,

which is always waiting about for a chance to enter an unguarded nest.

On these occasions the defense is carried on with great vigor, the fly

being pursued for some distance into the air. There are usually two

or three unmated males flying about in the neighborhood of the nests,

poking their heads into unused holes, and occasionally trying to enter

one that is occupied, but never, so far as we have seen, with any

success, the male in charge being always quite ready and able to take

care of his rights. The males, however, made no objection when strange

females entered the nest, as they sometimes did by mistake, nor did the

females object to the entrance of a strange male when the one belonging

to the nest happened to be away; but in such cases the rightful owner,

on his return, quickly ejected the intruder. We often amused ourselves,

while we were watching the nests, by approaching the little male, as

he stood in his doorway, with a blade of grass. He always attacked it

valiantly, and sometimes grasped it so tightly in his mandibles that he

could be drawn out of the nest with it.

When the female returns to the nest with a spider the male flies out to

make way for her, and then as she goes in he alights on her back and

enters with her. When she comes out again she brings him with her, but

he at once reënters, and then, after a moment, comes out and backs in,

so that he faces outward as before.

In one instance, with rubrocinctum, where the work of storing the nest

had been delayed by rainy weather, we saw the male assisting by taking

the spiders from the female as she brought them and packing them into

the nest, leaving her free to hunt for more. This was an especially

attentive little fellow, as he guarded the nest almost continuously

for four days, the female sometimes being gone for hours at a time. On

the last day he even revisited the nest three or four times after it

had been sealed up.

It is upon the female that the heaviest part of the work devolves.

As soon as she has put the nest in order she begins the arduous task

of catching spiders wherewith to store it. It usually takes her from

ten to twenty minutes to find a spider and bring it home, but she is

sometimes absent for a much longer time. When the spider has been

carried to the nest the process of packing it in begins. This occupies

some time, and apparently a good deal of strength,—the female pushing

it into place with her head, totally disregarding its comfort, all

the spiders that are caught being pressed and jammed together into a

compact mass. While she is busied in this way she makes a loud cheerful

humming noise. The number of spiders brought seems to depend upon

their size, in which quality they vary greatly, the largest ones being

six or eight times as large as the smallest. Rubrocinctum fills her

nest with from seven to fourteen, while the larger albopilosum brings

as many as twenty–five or thirty. Those that we examined represented

many different genera, and even different families, although they were

usually orb–weavers.

In a number of cases, during the first summer, after several spiders

had been stored, we gently drew them out with a bent wire. In one nest

in which there were five spiders, we found, two hours after they had

been stored, that three were alive and two were dead. In another, which

the wasp had just begun to seal up, were ten spiders. Three of these

were injured in being drawn out. Of the remainder four were alive and

three dead. On the anterior part of the dorsum of one of the living

spiders was the egg. It had probably been fertilized as the female

carried the male into the nest on her back.

When we discovered rubrocinctum in the straw–stack, we made many

observations as to the position of the egg and the number and condition

of the spiders. We found that the egg was always placed either on the

side or the back of the anterior part of the abdomen. The number of

spiders stored was, as we have already stated, from seven to fourteen.

A fact that interested us greatly was the remarkable accuracy shown by

the wasp in never selecting too large a spider for the calibre of the

straw. Oftentimes it was an extremely close fit, but it could always

be squeezed down. When they nested in posts they used at times much

larger prey. Unfortunately we never saw this species capture its prey,

nor could we prevail upon it to sting in captivity, but the number

of spiders that we found in straws was so large as to afford abundant

evidence concerning the degree of surgical skill possessed by the

wasps. P. marginatus and P. scelestus, in overpowering their large

fierce Lycosids, must sting when and where they can, but most of the

spiders taken by rubrocinctum are inoffensive creatures, and there is

so little need to be careful or adroit in dealing with them that she

has time and opportunity to sting the exact spot that will give the

best results.

[Illustration: TRYPOXYLON RUBROCINCTUM]

The concentration of the nervous system in the Arachnida would seem

to conduce very strongly to uniform results from the stinging of the

wasps. Unlike the larva used by Ammophila, with its chain of ganglia,

in the Araneidæ the whole central nervous system, including the brain

and the ventral cord, forms a single mass, pierced by the œsophagus.

The greater part of this mass, which lies behind the œsophagus,

represents the fused ventral cord from which the nerves radiate. It is

evident that a thrust given in almost any part of the ventral face of

the cephalothorax, or even on either side of the anterior half of its

edges, would reach the nervous centre. With these facts before us let

us turn to the notes made upon the condition of the spiders that had

been stung and stored up in the nests of the straw–stack. By the “first

cell” we mean the last one stored, which was naturally the first one

opened.

July 11. Opened a nest of _rubrocinctum_. The first cell contained

fourteen live spiders with a newly laid egg. Some of the spiders were

very lively, moving spontaneously. Second cell, ten spiders, one dead,

others alive, and an egg. Third cell, eight spiders, three dead and five

alive, and the egg.

July 12. In each of the first and second cells one spider has died since

yesterday, while in the third there is no change in their condition. The

egg in the third cell hatched at nine in the morning, and the one in the

second cell at three in the afternoon.

July 13. In the first cell all the spiders are dead but one, and in the

second, all but four, while in the third none are alive.

July 15. All the spiders in the second cell are dead.

July 16. The one spider in the first cell has outlived all the others,

but that, too, died to–day.

The record of another set of nests is as follows: On July eighth we

took a straw with a wasp as she went in with her spider. The cell was

not sealed up. It contained fourteen specimens of three species of

orb–weavers, and the egg was apparently just laid. The spiders were

pushed in very tightly, and the legs and abdomens were, in many cases,

bent to one side. All were limp, but alive. By July tenth, four were

dead; on July eleventh the egg hatched. By July thirteenth all of the

spiders were dead.

It is unnecessary to give the history of other nests in detail, since

these facts make it clear that there is a great variation in the degree

of severity with which the spiders are stung, so that while with some

the paralysis is complete, with others it is only partial. Some were

killed outright, others lived two or three days, while still others

survived for two weeks. Compared with the work of the Pelopæi it would

seem that a smaller number of the spiders are killed at once, while a

larger number die after the lapse of a few days. None of the victims

of Trypoxylon live so long as the most perfectly paralyzed spiders of

the mud–daubers. Two of them lived ten and fifteen days respectively,

while with Pelopæus one survived until the thirty–eighth and one until

the fortieth day.

The egg requires from forty to sixty hours for its development, and the

larva feeds for seven or eight days before spinning its cocoon. Those

that we watched usually disposed first of the abdomen and then of the

cephalothorax; sometimes they would consume several abdomens before

attacking the other parts. After the body was devoured the legs were

picked up and eaten. When the supply of food was generous, portions of

the spiders were sometimes left untouched. The cocoons resembled in

general appearance and structure those of Pelopæus.

When a female returns with her load she usually hunts about for a few

moments before finding her nest, sometimes entering, first, two or

three that are empty or are occupied by other wasps; but we do not

wish to cast any reflection upon the sense of locality of a creature

that is able to find one particular straw out of the many thousands in

an expanse of stack twenty feet high by twelve wide. We ourselves can

testify, from experience, to the extreme difficulty of the task.

After the storing process is completed the female seals up the nest

with mud. In the case of one rubrocinctum that we were watching, she

began to close the opening at four in the afternoon and finished her

work just thirty minutes later. In this time she made ten journeys for

mud, bringing it in pellets in her mandibles. In another case, also a

rubrocinctum, the female, after bringing so many spiders that the cell

was full up to the very door (which we saw in no other case), went away

without closing it, and never returned. The male seemed uneasy at her

conduct, and several times flew away, staying an hour or two and then

returning; but after a time he too deserted the nest. Whether some evil

fate overtook the female or whether there was some failure of instinct

on her part, can only be conjectured; but the latter hypothesis is not

untenable, since out of seventy–six nests that we had under observation

seven were cleaned out and prepared and were then sealed up empty. We

have often found similar cases among the nests of the blue mud–dauber

wasps, where it is not a very uncommon thing for the absent–minded

females to build their pretty little cylindrical nests with infinite

care and patience, and then to seal them up without putting anything

inside.

Cocoons of rubrocinctum that were gathered in the month of August

remained over the winter and hatched in May and June.

Almost as interesting as rubrocinctum is the slightly larger species,

T. albopilosum. This wasp has a great liking for the posts that support

the balcony of our cottage, a preference that is very convenient for

us, as it enables us to sit in the shade and watch their doings at our

ease.

One afternoon as we sat, literally, at our posts, a female of

albopilosum came humming along, looking very important and energetic,

as though she had planned beforehand exactly what to do. She entered an

empty hole, head first, and at once began to gnaw at the wood, kicking

it out backwards with considerable violence. After a few minutes she

changed her method of work, and began to carry out loads of wood dust

in her mandibles, dropping it in little showers just outside the nest,

and then hastening back. In forty minutes she carried out, in this way,

upwards of fifty loads. She then flew away, but returned in ten minutes

with a male. She alighted, he took his place on her back, and they went

in together.

After a time they came out and both flew away, but the next morning

they came back and the nest was stored.

[Illustration: MALE TRYPOXYLON AWAITING THE FEMALE]

In this species the male does not always come out of the nest when

the female brings a spider, the nest being enough larger than in

rubrocinctum to accommodate them both comfortably. As a usual thing,

however, he enters on the back of the female. The spiders brought by

albopilosum are larger than those used by rubrocinctum. They sometimes

bring such heavy specimens of Epeira insularis that they are carried

with difficulty, the wasp alighting and dragging the spider into the

hole instead of flying directly in as usual.

We watched a number of albopilosum nests during the second summer,

finding them in several instances through the loud humming of the

female while she was pushing the spiders into her hole. From our not

very extensive study of the spiders taken by this species we are of the

opinion that some are killed at the moment of capture, while others

that are only paralyzed die in the nest from day to day.

Mr. W. H. Ashmead has noted that albopilosum stores its nest with

aphides, but in the cases that we observed they used only spiders.

There can be no mistake on this point, as we more than once took the

spider from the wasp as she was entering the nest. In a recent letter

Mr. Ashmead says that his notes were made in the field, and that he

probably mistook some closely allied species for this one.

We are not as familiar with the habits of T. bidentatum as with those

of the other two, but we have a few notes relating to the female. This

little worker is the smallest of the three, and like her sisters is a

confirmed spider–hunter. Once, when out among the raspberry bushes, we

had the good fortune to witness a capture. The wasp seized the spider,

as it rested on a leaf, by the top of the cephalothorax, and, holding

it firmly, curved her abdomen under and stabbed the ventral face of

the cephalothorax. All her motions were deliberate, and after the

operation she delayed a moment before picking it up by a leg and flying

off. We often found raspberry stems which had been filled with spiders

by this wasp, but we do not know the length of time required for the

development of the egg, nor how long the larva eats before pupation.

The cocoon is very different in appearance from those of rubrocinctum

and albopilosum, being exceedingly long, slender, and almost white,

instead of short, wide, and brown. The perfect insects come out in

September, and the last cocoon formed is the first one to hatch. This

was also true of the cocoons of rubrocinctum formed in straws.

Years ago, when we found that many of the orb–weavers laid enormous

numbers of eggs (A. cophinaria from 500 to 2000), we wondered what

became of the thousands of spiderlings. An acquaintance with

Trypoxylon has shown us their fate, and has given us an illustration of

how closely the two groups are related. To make a very modest estimate

there must have been twenty wasps at work in our straw–stack. During

the six weeks which make the busiest part of their working season each

of these must have stored, at the very least, thirty cells, putting

an average of ten spiders into a cell. It may then be considered

certain that the straw–stack, with its working surface of twelve by

twenty feet, was the mausoleum of six thousand spiders, and it is very

probable that twice as many were interred within its depths. It must

be remembered, too, that before the spiders have grown large enough to

be interesting to rubrocinctum, bidentatum has had her turn at them,

and that those that are allowed to grow too large for rubrocinctum are

preyed upon grade after grade, first by albopilosum and finally by

Pelopæus, Pompilus, and other genera.

The wasps of this genus lose their interest in family affairs about the

second week in August, though after this time they may still be seen

taking their well–earned holiday on the blossoms of the aster and the

golden–rod.

Wasps, Social and Solitary · 第 8 / 13 章