[Illustration]
Rio de Janeiro—Excursion north of Cape Frio—Great
Evaporation—Slavery—Botofogo Bay—Terrestrial Planariæ—Clouds on the
Corcovado—Heavy Rain—Musical Frogs—Phosphorescent Insects—Elater,
springing powers of—Blue Haze—Noise made by a
Butterfly—Entomology—Ants—Wasp killing a Spider—Parasitical
Spider—Artifices of an Epeira—Gregarious Spider—Spider with an
unsymmetrical Web.
RIO DE JANEIRO.
_April_ 4_th to July_ 5_th_, 1832.—A few days after our arrival I
became acquainted with an Englishman who was going to visit his estate,
situated rather more than a hundred miles from the capital, to the
northward of Cape Frio. I gladly accepted his kind offer of allowing me
to accompany him.
_April_ 8_th_, 1832.—Our party amounted to seven. The first stage was
very interesting. The day was powerfully hot, and as we passed through
the woods, everything was motionless, excepting the large and brilliant
butterflies, which lazily fluttered about. The view seen when crossing
the hills behind Praia Grande was most beautiful; the colours were
intense, and the prevailing tint a dark blue; the sky and the calm
waters of the bay vied with each other in splendour. After passing
through some cultivated country, we entered a forest which in the
grandeur of all its parts could not be exceeded. We arrived by midday
at
Ithacaia; this small village is situated on a plain, and round the
central house are the huts of the negroes. These, from their regular
form and position, reminded me of the drawings of the Hottentot
habitations in Southern Africa. As the moon rose early, we determined
to start the same evening for our sleeping-place at the Lagoa Marica.
As it was growing dark we passed under one of the massive, bare, and
steep hills of granite which are so common in this country. This spot
is notorious from having been, for a long time, the residence of some
runaway slaves, who, by cultivating a little ground near the top,
contrived to eke out a subsistence. At length they were discovered, and
a party of soldiers being sent, the whole were seized with the
exception of one old woman, who, sooner than again be led into slavery,
dashed herself to pieces from the summit of the mountain. In a Roman
matron this would have been called the noble love of freedom: in a poor
negress it is mere brutal obstinacy. We continued riding for some
hours. For the few last miles the road was intricate, and it passed
through a desert waste of marshes and lagoons. The scene by the dimmed
light of the moon was most desolate. A few fireflies flitted by us; and
the solitary snipe, as it rose, uttered its plaintive cry. The distant
and sullen roar of the sea scarcely broke the stillness of the night.
_April_ 9_th_, 1832.—We left our miserable sleeping-place before
sunrise. The road passed through a narrow sandy plain, lying between
the sea and the interior salt lagoons. The number of beautiful fishing
birds, such as egrets and cranes, and the succulent plants assuming
most fantastical forms, gave to the scene an interest which it would
not otherwise have possessed. The few stunted trees were loaded with
parasitical plants, among which the beauty and delicious fragrance of
some of the orchideæ were most to be admired. As the sun rose, the day
became extremely hot, and the reflection of the light and heat from the
white sand was very distressing. We dined at Mandetiba; the thermometer
in the shade being 84°. The beautiful view of the distant wooded hills,
reflected in the perfectly calm water of an extensive lagoon, quite
refreshed us. As the vênda[1] here was a very good one, and I have the
pleasant, but rare remembrance, of an excellent dinner, I will be
grateful and
presently describe it, as the type of its class. These houses are often
large, and are built of thick upright posts, with boughs interwoven,
and afterwards plastered. They seldom have floors, and never glazed
windows; but are generally pretty well roofed. Universally the front
part is open, forming a kind of verandah, in which tables and benches
are placed. The bedrooms join on each side, and here the passenger may
sleep as comfortably as he can, on a wooden platform covered by a thin
straw mat. The vênda stands in a courtyard, where the horses are fed.
On first arriving, it was our custom to unsaddle the horses and give
them their Indian corn; then, with a low bow, to ask the senhôr to do
us the favour to give us something to eat. “Anything you choose, sir,”
was his usual answer. For the few first times, vainly I thanked
Providence for having guided us to so good a man. The conversation
proceeding, the case universally became deplorable. “Any fish can you
do us the favour of giving ?”—“Oh no, sir.”—“Any soup?”—“No, sir.”—“Any
bread?”—“Oh no, sir.”—“Any dried meat?”—“Oh no, sir.” If we were lucky,
by waiting a couple of hours, we obtained fowls, rice, and farinha. It
not unfrequently happened that we were obliged to kill, with stones,
the poultry for our own supper. When, thoroughly exhausted by fatigue
and hunger, we timorously hinted that we should be glad of our meal,
the pompous, and (though true) most unsatisfactory answer was, “It will
be ready when it is ready.” If we had dared to remonstrate any further,
we should have been told to proceed on our journey, as being too
impertinent. The hosts are most ungracious and disagreeable in their
manners; their houses and their persons are often filthily dirty; the
want of the accommodation of forks, knives, and spoons is common; and I
am sure no cottage or hovel in England could be found in a state so
utterly destitute of every comfort. At Campos Novos, however, we fared
sumptuously; having rice and fowls, biscuit, wine, and spirits, for
dinner; coffee in the evening, and fish with coffee for breakfast. All
this, with good food for the horses, only cost 2 shillings 6 pence per
head. Yet the host of this vênda, being asked if he knew anything of a
whip which one of the party had lost, gruffly answered, “How should I
know? why did you not take care of it?—I suppose the dogs have eaten
it.”
[1] Vênda, the Portuguese name for an inn.
Leaving Mandetiba, we continued to pass through an
intricate wilderness of lakes; in some of which were fresh, in others
salt water shells. Of the former kind, I found a Limnæa in great
numbers in a lake, into which the inhabitants assured me that the sea
enters once a year, and sometimes oftener, and makes the water quite
salt. I have no doubt many interesting facts in relation to marine and
fresh-water animals might be observed in this chain of lagoons which
skirt the coast of Brazil. M. Gay[2] has stated that he found in the
neighbourhood of Rio shells of the marine genera solen and mytilus, and
fresh-water ampullariæ, living together in brackish water. I also
frequently observed in the lagoon near the Botanic Garden, where the
water is only a little less salt than in the sea, a species of
hydrophilus, very similar to a water-beetle common in the ditches of
England: in the same lake the only shell belonged to a genus generally
found in estuaries.
[2] _Annales des Sciences Naturelles_ for 1833.
Leaving the coast for a time, we again entered the forest. The trees
were very lofty, and remarkable, compared with those of Europe, from
the whiteness of their trunks. I see by my notebook, “wonderful and
beautiful flowering parasites,” invariably struck me as the most novel
object in these grand scenes. Travelling onwards we passed through
tracts of pasturage, much injured by the enormous conical ants’ nests,
which were nearly twelve feet high. They gave to the plain exactly the
appearance of the mud volcanoes at Jorullo, as figured by Humboldt. We
arrived at Engenhodo after it was dark, having been ten hours on
horseback. I never ceased, during the whole journey, to be surprised at
the amount of labour which the horses were capable of enduring; they
appeared also to recover from any injury much sooner than those of our
English breed. The Vampire bat is often the cause of much trouble, by
biting the horses on their withers. The injury is generally not so much
owing to the loss of blood, as to the inflammation which the pressure
of the saddle afterwards produces. The whole circumstance has lately
been doubted in England; I was therefore fortunate in being present
when one (Desmodus d’orbignyi, Wat.) was actually caught on a horse’s
back. We were bivouacking late one evening near Coquimbo, in Chile,
when my servant, noticing that one of the horses was very restive, went
to see what was the matter, and fancying he could distinguish
something,
suddenly put his hand on the beast’s withers, and secured the vampire.
In the morning the spot where the bite had been inflicted was easily
distinguished from being slightly swollen and bloody. The third day
afterwards we rode the horse, without any ill effects.
[Illustration]
_April_ 13_th_, 1832.—After three days’ travelling we arrived at
Socêgo, the estate of Senhôr Manuel Figuireda, a relation of one of our
party. The house was simple, and, though like a barn in form, was well
suited to the climate. In the sitting-room gilded chairs and sofas were
oddly contrasted with the whitewashed walls, thatched roof, and windows
without glass. The house, together with the granaries, the stables, and
workshops for the blacks, who had been taught various trades, formed a
rude kind of quadrangle; in the centre of which a large pile of coffee
was drying. These buildings stand on a little hill, overlooking the
cultivated ground, and surrounded on every side by a wall of dark green
luxuriant forest. The chief produce of this part of the country is
coffee. Each tree is supposed to yield annually, on an average, two
pounds; but some give as much as eight. Mandioca or cassava is likewise
cultivated in
great quantity. Every part of this plant is useful: the leaves and
stalks are eaten by the horses, and the roots are ground into a pulp,
which, when pressed dry and baked, forms the farinha, the principal
article of sustenance in the Brazils. It is a curious, though
well-known fact, that the juice of this most nutritious plant is highly
poisonous. A few years ago a cow died at this Fazênda, in consequence
of having drunk some of it. Senhôr Figuireda told me that he had
planted, the year before, one bag of feijaô or beans, and three of
rice; the former of which produced eighty, and the latter three hundred
and twenty fold. The pasturage supports a fine stock of cattle, and the
woods are so full of game that a deer had been killed on each of the
three previous days. This profusion of food showed itself at dinner,
where, if the tables did not groan, the guests surely did; for each
person is expected to eat of every dish. One day, having, as I thought,
nicely calculated so that nothing should go away untasted, to my utter
dismay a roast turkey and a pig appeared in all their substantial
reality. During the meals, it was the employment of a man to drive out
of the room sundry old hounds, and dozens of little black children,
which crawled in together, at every opportunity. As long as the idea of
slavery could be banished, there was something exceedingly fascinating
in this simple and patriarchal style of living: it was such a perfect
retirement and independence from the rest of the world. As soon as any
stranger is seen arriving, a large bell is set tolling, and generally
some small cannon are fired. The event is thus announced to the rocks
and woods, but to nothing else. One morning I walked out an hour before
daylight to admire the solemn stillness of the scene; at last, the
silence was broken by the morning hymn, raised on high by the whole
body of the blacks; and in this manner their daily work is generally
begun. On such fazêndas as these, I have no doubt the slaves pass happy
and contented lives. On Saturday and Sunday they work for themselves,
and in this fertile climate the labour of two days is sufficient to
support a man and his family for the whole week.
[Illustration]
_April_ 14_th_, 1832.—Leaving Socêgo, we rode to another estate on the
Rio Macâe, which was the last patch of cultivated ground in that
direction. The estate was two and a half miles long, and the owner had
forgotten how many broad. Only a very small
piece had been cleared, yet almost every acre was capable of yielding
all the various rich productions of a tropical land. Considering the
enormous area of Brazil, the proportion of cultivated ground can
scarcely be considered as anything compared to that which is left in
the state of nature: at some future age, how vast a population it will
support! During the second day’s journey we found the road so shut up
that it was necessary that a man should go ahead with a sword to cut
away the creepers. The forest abounded with beautiful objects; among
which the tree ferns, though not large, were, from their bright green
foliage, and the elegant curvature of their fronds, most worthy of
admiration. In the evening it rained very heavily, and although the
thermometer stood at 65°, I felt very cold. As soon as the rain ceased,
it was curious to observe the extraordinary evaporation which commenced
over the whole extent of the forest. At the height of a hundred feet
the hills were buried in a dense white vapour, which rose like columns
of smoke from the most thickly-wooded parts, and especially from the
valleys. I observed this phenomenon on several occasions: I suppose it
is owing to the large surface of foliage, previously heated by the
sun’s rays.
While staying at this estate, I was very nearly being an eye-witness to
one of those atrocious acts which can only take place in a slave
country. Owing to a quarrel and a lawsuit, the owner was on the point
of taking all the women and children from the male slaves, and selling
them separately at the public auction at Rio. Interest, and not any
feeling of compassion, prevented this act. Indeed, I do not believe the
inhumanity of separating thirty families, who had lived together for
many years, even occurred to the owner. Yet I will pledge myself, that
in humanity and good feeling he was superior to the common run of men.
It may be said there exists no limit to the blindness of interest and
selfish habit. I may mention one very trifling anecdote, which at the
time struck me more forcibly than any story of cruelty. I was crossing
a ferry with a negro who was uncommonly stupid. In endeavouring to make
him understand, I talked loud, and made signs, in doing which I passed
my hand near his face. He, I suppose, thought I was in a passion, and
was going to strike him; for instantly, with a frightened look and
half-shut eyes, he dropped his hands. I shall never
forget my feelings of surprise, disgust, and shame, at seeing a great
powerful man afraid even to ward off a blow, directed, as he thought,
at his face. This man had been trained to a degradation lower than the
slavery of the most helpless animal.
[Illustration]
_April_ 18_th_, 1832.—In returning we spent two days at Socêgo, and I
employed them in collecting insects in the forest. The greater number
of trees, although so lofty, are not more than three or four feet in
circumference. There are, of course, a few of much greater dimension.
Senhôr Manuel was then making a canoe 70 feet in length from a solid
trunk, which had originally been 110 feet long, and of great thickness.
The contrast of palm trees, growing amidst the common branching kinds,
never fails to give the scene an intertropical character. Here the
woods were ornamented by the Cabbage Palm—one of the most beautiful of
its family. With a stem so narrow that it might be clasped with the two
hands, it waves its elegant head at the height of forty or fifty feet
above the ground. The woody creepers, themselves covered by other
creepers, were of great thickness: some which I measured were two feet
in circumference. Many of the older trees presented a very curious
appearance from the tresses of a liana hanging from their boughs, and
resembling bundles of hay. If the eye was turned from the world of
foliage above, to the ground beneath, it was attracted by the extreme
elegance of the leaves of the ferns and mimosæ. The latter, in some
parts, covered the surface with a brushwood only a few inches high. In
walking across these thick beds of mimosæ, a broad track was marked by
the change of shade, produced by the drooping
of their sensitive petioles. It is easy to specify the individual
objects of admiration in these grand scenes; but it is not possible to
give an adequate idea of the higher feelings of wonder, astonishment,
and devotion, which fill and elevate the mind.
[Illustration]
_April_ 19_th_, 1832.—Leaving Socêgo, during the two first days we
retraced our steps. It was very wearisome work, as the road generally
ran across a glaring hot sandy plain, not far from the coast. I noticed
that each time the horse put its foot on the fine siliceous sand, a
gentle chirping noise was produced. On the third day we took a
different line, and passed through the gay little village of Madre de
Deôs. This is one of the principal lines of road in Brazil; yet it was
in so bad a state that no wheel vehicle, excepting the clumsy
bullock-wagon, could pass along. In our whole journey we did not cross
a single bridge built of stone; and those made of logs of wood were
frequently so much out of repair that it was necessary to go on one
side to avoid them. All distances are inaccurately known. The road is
often marked by crosses, in the place of milestones, to signify where
human blood has been spilled. On the evening of the 23rd we arrived at
Rio, having finished our pleasant little excursion.
During the remainder of my stay at Rio, I resided in a cottage at
Botofogo Bay. It was impossible to wish for anything more delightful
than thus to spend some weeks in so magnificent a country. In England
any person fond of natural history enjoys in his walks a great
advantage, by always having something to attract his attention; but in
these fertile climates, teeming with life, the attractions are so
numerous, that he is scarcely able to walk at all.
The few observations which I was enabled to make were almost
exclusively confined to the invertebrate animals. The existence of a
division of the genus Planaria, which inhabits the dry land, interested
me much. These animals are of so simple a structure, that Cuvier has
arranged them with the intestinal worms, though never found within the
bodies of other animals. Numerous species inhabit both salt and fresh
water; but those to which I allude were found, even in the drier parts
of the forest, beneath logs of rotten wood, on which I believe they
feed. In general form they resemble little slugs, but are very much
narrower in proportion, and several of the species are beautifully
coloured with longitudinal stripes. Their structure is very simple:
near the middle of the under or crawling surface there are two small
transverse slits, from the anterior one of which a funnel-shaped and
highly irritable mouth can be protruded. For some time after the rest
of the animal was completely dead from the effects of salt water or any
other cause, this organ still retained its vitality.
I found no less than twelve different species of terrestrial Planariæ
in different parts of the southern hemisphere.[3] Some specimens which
I obtained at Van Diemen’s Land, I kept alive for nearly two months,
feeding them on rotten wood. Having cut one of them transversely into
two nearly equal parts, in the course of a fortnight both had the shape
of perfect animals. I had, however, so divided the body, that one of
the halves contained both the inferior orifices, and the other, in
consequence, none. In the course of twenty-five days from the
operation, the more perfect half could not have been distinguished from
any other specimen. The other had increased much in size; and towards
its posterior end, a clear space was formed in the parenchymatous mass,
in which a rudimentary cup-shaped mouth could clearly be distinguished;
on the under surface, however, no corresponding slit was yet open. If
the increased heat of the
weather, as we approached the equator, had not destroyed all the
individuals, there can be no doubt that this last step would have
completed its structure. Although so well known an experiment, it was
interesting to watch the gradual production of every essential organ,
out of the simple extremity of another animal. It is extremely
difficult to preserve these Planariæ; as soon as the cessation of life
allows the ordinary laws of change to act, their entire bodies become
soft and fluid, with a rapidity which I have never seen equalled.
[3] I have described and named these species in the _Annals of Natural
History_, vol. xiv, p. 241.
I first visited the forest in which these Planariæ were found, in
company with an old Portuguese priest who took me out to hunt with him.
The sport consisted in turning into the cover a few dogs, and then
patiently waiting to fire at any animal which might appear. We were
accompanied by the son of a neighbouring farmer—a good specimen of a
wild Brazilian youth. He was dressed in a tattered old shirt and
trousers, and had his head uncovered: he carried an old-fashioned gun
and a large knife. The habit of carrying the knife is universal; and in
traversing a thick wood it is almost necessary, on account of the
creeping plants. The frequent occurrence of murder may be partly
attributed to this habit. The Brazilians are so dexterous with the
knife that they can throw it to some distance with precision, and with
sufficient force to cause a fatal wound. I have seen a number of little
boys practising this art as a game of play, and from their skill in
hitting an upright stick, they promised well for more earnest attempts.
My companion, the day before, had shot two large bearded monkeys. These
animals have prehensile tails, the extremity of which, even after
death, can support the whole weight of the body. One of them thus
remained fast to a branch, and it was necessary to cut down a large
tree to procure it. This was soon effected, and down came tree and
monkey with an awful crash. Our day’s sport, besides the monkey, was
confined to sundry small green parrots and a few toucans. I profited,
however, by my acquaintance with the Portuguese padre, for on another
occasion he gave me a fine specimen of the Yagouaroundi cat.
Every one has heard of the beauty of the scenery near Botofogo. The
house in which I lived was seated close beneath the well-known mountain
of the Corcovado. It has been remarked, with much truth, that abruptly
conical hills are characteristic of
the formation which Humboldt designates as gneiss-granite. Nothing can
be more striking than the effect of these huge rounded masses of naked
rock rising out of the most luxuriant vegetation.
I was often interested by watching the clouds, which, rolling in from
seaward, formed a bank just beneath the highest point of the Corcovado.
This mountain, like most others, when thus partly veiled, appeared to
rise to a far prouder elevation than its real height of 2300 feet. Mr.
Daniell has observed, in his meteorological essays, that a cloud
sometimes appears fixed on a mountain summit, while the wind continues
to blow over it. The same phenomenon here presented a slightly
different appearance. In this case the cloud was clearly seen to curl
over, and rapidly pass by the summit, and yet was neither diminished
nor increased in size. The sun was setting, and a gentle southerly
breeze, striking against the southern side of the rock, mingled its
current with the colder air above; and the vapour was thus condensed:
but as the light wreaths of cloud passed over the ridge, and came
within the influence of the warmer atmosphere of the northern sloping
bank, they were immediately redissolved.
The climate, during the months of May and June, or the beginning of
winter, was delightful. The mean temperature, from observations taken
at nine o’clock, both morning and evening, was only 72°. It often
rained heavily, but the drying southerly winds soon again rendered the
walks pleasant. One morning, in the course of six hours, 1.6 inches of
rain fell. As this storm passed over the forests which surround the
Corcovado, the sound produced by the drops pattering on the countless
multitude of leaves was very remarkable, it could be heard at the
distance of a quarter of a mile, and was like the rushing of a great
body of water. After the hotter days, it was delicious to sit quietly
in the garden and watch the evening pass into night. Nature, in these
climes, chooses her vocalists from more humble performers than in
Europe. A small frog, of the genus Hyla, sits on a blade of grass about
an inch above the surface of the water, and sends forth a pleasing
chirp: when several are together they sing in harmony on different
notes. I had some difficulty in catching a specimen of this frog. The
genus Hyla has its toes terminated by small suckers; and I found this
animal could crawl up a pane of glass, when placed
absolutely perpendicular. Various cicadæ and crickets, at the same
time, keep up a ceaseless shrill cry, but which, softened by the
distance, is not unpleasant. Every evening after dark this great
concert commenced; and often have I sat listening to it, until my
attention has been drawn away by some curious passing insect.
At these times the fireflies are seen flitting about from hedge to
hedge. On a dark night the light can be seen at about two hundred paces
distant. It is remarkable that in all the different kinds of glowworms,
shining elaters, and various marine animals (such as the crustacea,
medusæ, nereidæ, a coralline of the genus Clytia, and Pyrosoma),
which I have observed, the light has been of a well-marked green
colour. All the fireflies, which I caught here, belonged to the
Lampyridæ (in which family the English glowworm is included), and the
greater number of specimens were of Lampyris occidentalis.[4] I found
that this insect emitted the most brilliant flashes when irritated: in
the intervals, the abdominal rings were obscured. The flash was almost
coinstantaneous in the two rings, but it was just perceptible first in
the anterior one. The shining matter was fluid and very adhesive:
little spots, where the skin had been torn, continued bright with a
slight scintillation, whilst the uninjured parts were obscured. When
the insect was decapitated the rings remained uninterruptedly bright,
but not so brilliant as before: local irritation with a needle always
increased the vividness of the light. The rings in one instance
retained their luminous property nearly twenty-four hours after the
death of the insect. From these facts it would appear probable, that
the animal has only the power of concealing or extinguishing the light
for short intervals, and that at other times the display is
involuntary. On the muddy and wet gravel-walks I found the larvæ of
this lampyris in great numbers: they resembled in general form the
female of the English glowworm. These larvæ possessed but feeble
luminous powers; very differently from their parents, on the slightest
touch they feigned death, and ceased to shine; nor did irritation
excite any fresh display. I kept several of them alive for some time:
their tails are very singular organs, for they act, by a well-fitted
contrivance, as suckers or organs of attachment,
and likewise as reservoirs for saliva, or some such fluid. I repeatedly
fed them on raw meat; and I invariably observed, that every now and
then the extremity of the tail was applied to the mouth, and a drop of
fluid exuded on the meat, which was then in the act of being consumed.
The tail, notwithstanding so much practice, does not seem to be able to
find its way to the mouth; at least the neck was always touched first,
and apparently as a guide.
[4] I am greatly indebted to Mr. Waterhouse for his kindness in naming
for me this and many other insects, and giving me much valuable
assistance.
When we were at Bahia, an elater or beetle (Pyrophorus luminosus,
Illig.) seemed the most common luminous insect. The light in this case
was also rendered more brilliant by irritation. I amused myself one day
by observing the springing powers of this insect, which have not, as it
appears to me, been properly described.[5] The elater, when placed on
its back and preparing to spring, moved its head and thorax backwards,
so that the pectoral spine was drawn out, and rested on the edge of its
sheath. The same backward movement being continued, the spine, by the
full action of the muscles, was bent like a spring; and the insect at
this moment rested on the extremity of its head and wing-cases. The
effort being suddenly relaxed, the head and thorax flew up, and in
consequence, the base of the wing-cases struck the supporting surface
with such force, that the insect by the reaction was jerked upwards to
the height of one or two inches. The projecting points of the thorax,
and the sheath of the spine, served to steady the whole body during the
spring. In the descriptions which I have read, sufficient stress does
not appear to have been laid on the elasticity of the spine: so sudden
a spring could not be the result of simple muscular contraction,
without the aid of some mechanical contrivance.
[5] Kirby’s _Entomology_, vol. ii, p. 317.
On several occasions I enjoyed some short but most pleasant excursions
in the neighbouring country. One day I went to the Botanic Garden,
where many plants, well known for their great utility, might be seen
growing. The leaves of the camphor, pepper, cinnamon, and clove trees
were delightfully aromatic; and the bread-fruit, the jaca, and the
mango, vied with each other in the magnificence of their foliage. The
landscape in the neighbourhood of Bahia almost takes its character
from the two latter trees. Before seeing them, I had no idea that any
trees could cast so black a shade on the ground. Both of them bear to
the evergreen vegetation of these climates the same kind of relation
which laurels and hollies in England do to the lighter green of the
deciduous trees. It may be observed that the houses within the tropics
are surrounded by the most beautiful forms of vegetation, because many
of them are at the same time most useful to man. Who can doubt that
these qualities are united in the banana, the cocoa-nut, the many kinds
of palm, the orange, and the bread-fruit tree?
[Illustration]
During this day I was particularly struck with a remark of Humboldt’s,
who often alludes to “the thin vapour which, without changing the
transparency of the air, renders its tints more harmonious, and softens
its effects.” This is an appearance which I have never observed in the
temperate zones. The atmosphere, seen through a short space of half or
three-quarters of a mile, was perfectly lucid, but at a greater
distance all colours were blended into a most beautiful haze, of a pale
French grey, mingled with a little blue. The condition of the
atmosphere between the morning and about noon, when the effect was most
evident, had undergone little change, excepting in its dryness. In the
interval, the difference between the dew point and temperature had
increased from 7.5° to 17°.
On another occasion I started early and walked to the Gavia, or topsail
mountain. The air was delightfully cool and fragrant; and the drops of
dew still glittered on the leaves of the large liliaceous plants, which
shaded the streamlets of clear water. Sitting down on a block of
granite, it was delightful to watch the various insects and birds as
they flew past. The humming-bird seems particularly fond of such shady
retired spots. Whenever I saw these little creatures buzzing round a
flower, with their wings vibrating so rapidly as to be scarcely
visible, I was reminded of the sphinx moths: their movements and habits
are indeed in many respects very similar.
Following a pathway I entered a noble forest, and from a height of five
or six hundred feet, one of those splendid views was presented, which
are so common on every side of Rio. At this elevation the landscape
attains its most brilliant tint; and every form, every shade, so
completely surpasses in magnificence all that the European has ever
beheld in his own country, that
he knows not how to express his feelings. The general effect frequently
recalled to my mind the gayest scenery of the Opera-house or the great
theatres. I never returned from these excursions empty-handed. This day
I found a specimen of a curious fungus, called Hymenophallus. Most
people know the English Phallus, which in autumn taints the air with
its odious smell: this, however, as the entomologist is aware, is to
some of our beetles a delightful fragrance. So was it here; for a
Strongylus, attracted by the odour, alighted on the fungus as I carried
it in my hand. We here see in two distant countries a similar relation
between plants and insects of the same families, though the species of
both are different. When man is the agent in introducing into a country
a new species this relation is often broken: as one instance of this I
may mention that the leaves of the cabbages and lettuces, which in
England afford food to such a multitude of slugs and caterpillars, in
the gardens near Rio are untouched.
During our stay at Brazil I made a large collection of insects. A few
general observations on the comparative importance of the different
orders may be interesting to the English entomologist. The large and
brilliantly-coloured Lepidoptera bespeak the zone they inhabit, far
more plainly than any other race of animals. I allude only to the
butterflies; for the moths, contrary to what might have been expected
from the rankness of the vegetation, certainly appeared in much fewer
numbers than in our own temperate regions. I was much surprised at the
habits of Papilio feronia. This butterfly is not uncommon, and
generally frequents the orange-groves. Although a high flier, yet it
very frequently alights on the trunks of trees. On these occasions its
head is invariably placed downwards; and its wings are expanded in a
horizontal plane, instead of being folded vertically, as is commonly
the case. This is the only butterfly which I have ever seen that uses
its legs for running. Not being aware of this fact, the insect, more
than once, as I cautiously approached with my forceps, shuffled on one
side just as the instrument was on the point of closing, and thus
escaped. But a far more singular fact is the power which this species
possesses of making a noise.[6] Several times when a pair,
probably male and female, were chasing each other in an irregular
course, they passed within a few yards of me; and I distinctly heard a
clicking noise, similar to that produced by a toothed wheel passing
under a spring catch. The noise was continued at short intervals, and
could be distinguished at about twenty yards’ distance: I am certain
there is no error in the observation.
[6] Mr. Doubleday has lately described (before the Entomological
Society, March 3rd, 1845) a peculiar structure in the wings of this
butterfly, which seems to be the means of its making its noise. He
says, “It is remarkable for having a sort of drum at the base of the
fore wings, between the costal nervure and the subcostal. These two
nervures, moreover, have a peculiar screw-like diaphragm or vessel in
the interior.” I find in Langsdorff’s travels (in the years 1803-7, p.
74) it is said, that in the island of St. Catherine’s on the coast of
Brazil, a butterfly called Februa Hoffmanseggi, makes a noise, when
flying away, like a rattle.
I was disappointed in the general aspect of the Coleoptera. The number
of minute and obscurely coloured beetles is exceedingly great.[7] The
cabinets of Europe can, as yet, boast only of the larger species from
tropical climates. It is sufficient to disturb the composure of an
entomologist’s mind, to look forward to the future dimensions of a
complete catalogue. The carnivorous beetles, or Carabidæ, appear in
extremely few numbers within the tropics: this is the more remarkable
when compared to the case of the carnivorous quadrupeds, which are so
abundant in hot countries. I was struck with this observation both on
entering Brazil, and when I saw the many elegant and active forms of
the Harpalidæ reappearing on the temperate plains of La Plata. Do the
very numerous spiders and rapacious Hymenoptera supply the place of the
carnivorous beetles? The carrion-feeders and Brachelytra are very
uncommon; on the other hand, the Rhyncophora and Chrysomelidæ, all of
which depend on the vegetable world for subsistence, are present in
astonishing numbers. I do not here refer to the number of different
species, but to that of the individual insects; for on this it is that
the most striking character in the entomology of different countries
depends. The orders Orthoptera and Hemiptera are particularly numerous;
as likewise is the stinging division of the Hymenoptera; the bees,
perhaps, being excepted. A person, on first entering a tropical
forest, is astonished at the labours of the ants: well-beaten paths
branch off in every direction, on which an army of never-failing
foragers may be seen, some going forth, and others returning, burdened
with pieces of green leaf, often larger than their own bodies.
[7] I may mention, as a common instance of one day’s (June 23rd)
collecting, when I was not attending particularly to the Coleoptera,
that I caught sixty-eight species of that order. Among these, there
were only two of the Carabidæ, four Brachelytra, fifteen Rhyncophora,
and fourteen of the Chrysomelidæ. Thirty-seven species of Arachnidæ,
which I brought home, will be sufficient to prove that I was not
paying overmuch attention to the generally favoured order of
Coleoptera.
A small dark-coloured ant sometimes migrates in countless numbers. One
day, at Bahia, my attention was drawn by observing many spiders,
cockroaches, and other insects, and some lizards, rushing in the
greatest agitation across a bare piece of ground. A little way behind,
every stalk and leaf was blackened by a small ant. The swarm having
crossed the bare space, divided itself, and descended an old wall. By
this means many insects were fairly enclosed; and the efforts which the
poor little creatures made to extricate themselves from such a death
were wonderful. When the ants came to the road they changed their
course, and in narrow files reascended the wall. Having placed a small
stone so as to intercept one of the lines, the whole body attacked it,
and then immediately retired. Shortly afterwards another body came to
the charge, and again having failed to make any impression, this line
of march was entirely given up. By going an inch round, the file might
have avoided the stone, and this doubtless would have happened, if it
had been originally there: but having been attacked, the lion-hearted
little warriors scorned the idea of yielding.
Certain wasp-like insects, which construct in the corners of the
verandahs clay cells for their larvæ, are very numerous in the
neighbourhood of Rio. These cells they stuff full of half-dead spiders
and caterpillars, which they seem wonderfully to know how to sting to
that degree as to leave them paralysed but alive, until their eggs are
hatched; and the larvae feed on the horrid mass of powerless,
half-killed victims—a sight which has been described by an enthusiastic
naturalist[8] as curious and pleasing! I was much interested one day by
watching a deadly contest between a Pepsis and a large spider of the
genus Lycosa. The wasp made a sudden dash at its prey, and then flew
away: the spider was evidently wounded, for, trying to escape, it
rolled down a little slope, but had still strength
sufficient to crawl into a thick tuft of grass. The wasp soon returned,
and seemed surprised at not immediately finding its victim. It then
commenced as regular a hunt as ever hound did after fox; making short
semicircular casts, and all the time rapidly vibrating its wings and
antennæ. The spider, though well concealed, was soon discovered, and
the wasp, evidently still afraid of its adversary’s jaws, after much
manœuvring, inflicted two stings on the under side of its thorax. At
last, carefully examining with its antennæ the now motionless spider,
it proceeded to drag away the body. But I stopped both tyrant and
prey.[9]
[8] In a Manuscript in the British Museum by Mr. Abbott, who made his
observations in Georgia; see Mr. A. White’s paper in the _Annals of
Natural History_, vol. vii, p. 472. Lieutenant Hutton has described a
sphex with similar habits in India, in the _Journal of the Asiatic
Society_, vol. i, p. 555.
[9] Don Felix Azara (vol. i, p. 175), mentioning a hymenopterous
insect, probably of the same genus, says he saw it dragging a dead
spider through tall grass, in a straight line to its nest, which was
one hundred and sixty-three paces distant. He adds that the wasp, in
order to find the road, every now and then made “demi-tours d’environ
trois palmes.”
The number of spiders, in proportion to other insects, is here compared
with England very much larger; perhaps more so than with any other
division of the articulate animals. The variety of species among the
jumping spiders appears almost infinite. The genus, or rather family of
Epeira, is here characterized by many singular forms; some species have
pointed coriaceous shells, others enlarged and spiny tibiæ. Every path
in the forest is barricaded with the strong yellow web of a species,
belonging to the same division with the Epeira clavipes of Fabricius,
which was formerly said by Sloane to make, in the West Indies, webs so
strong as to catch birds. A small and pretty kind of spider, with very
long fore-legs, and which appears to belong to an undescribed genus,
lives as a parasite on almost every one of these webs. I suppose it is
too insignificant to be noticed by the great Epeira, and is therefore
allowed to prey on the minute insects, which, adhering to the lines,
would otherwise be wasted. When frightened, this little spider either
feigns death by extending its front legs, or suddenly drops from the
web. A large Epeira of the same division with Epeira tuberculata and
conica is extremely common, especially in dry situations. Its web,
which is generally placed among the great leaves of the common agave,
is sometimes strengthened near the centre by a pair or even four zigzag
ribbons, which connect two adjoining rays. When any large insect, as a
grasshopper or wasp, is caught, the spider, by a dexterous movement,
makes it revolve
very rapidly, and at the same time emitting a band of threads from its
spinners, soon envelops its prey in a case like the cocoon of a
silkworm. The spider now examines the powerless victim, and gives the
fatal bite on the hinder part of its thorax; then retreating, patiently
waits till the poison has taken effect. The virulence of this poison
may be judged of from the fact that in half a minute I opened the mesh,
and found a large wasp quite lifeless. This Epeira always stands with
its head downwards near the centre of the web. When disturbed, it acts
differently according to circumstances: if there is a thicket below, it
suddenly falls down; and I have distinctly seen the thread from the
spinners lengthened by the animal while yet stationary, as preparatory
to its fall. If the ground is clear beneath, the Epeira seldom falls,
but moves quickly through a central passage from one to the other side.
When still further disturbed, it practises a most curious manœuvre:
standing in the middle, it violently jerks the web, which is attached
to elastic twigs, till at last the whole acquires such a rapid
vibratory movement, that even the outline of the spider’s body becomes
indistinct.
It is well known that most of the British spiders, when a large insect
is caught in their webs, endeavour to cut the lines and liberate their
prey, to save their nets from being entirely spoiled. I once, however,
saw in a hot-house in Shropshire a large female wasp caught in the
irregular web of a quite small spider; and this spider, instead of
cutting the web, most perseveringly continued to entangle the body, and
especially the wings, of its prey. The wasp at first aimed in vain
repeated thrusts with its sting at its little antagonist. Pitying the
wasp, after allowing it to struggle for more than an hour, I killed it
and put it back into the web. The spider soon returned; and an hour
afterwards I was much surprised to find it with its jaws buried in the
orifice through which the sting is protruded by the living wasp. I
drove the spider away two or three times, but for the next twenty-four
hours I always found it again sucking at the same place. The spider
became much distended by the juices of its prey, which was many times
larger than itself.
I may here just mention, that I found, near St. Fé Bajada, many large
black spiders, with ruby-coloured marks on their backs, having
gregarious habits. The webs were placed
vertically, as is invariably the case with the genus Epeira: they were
separated from each other by a space of about two feet, but were all
attached to certain common lines, which were of great length, and
extended to all parts of the community. In this manner the tops of some
large bushes were encompassed by the united nets. Azara[10] has
described a gregarious spider in Paraguay, which Walckanaer thinks must
be a Theridion, but probably it is an Epeira, and perhaps even the same
species with mine. I cannot, however, recollect seeing a central nest
as large as a hat, in which, during autumn, when the spiders die, Azara
says the eggs are deposited. As all the spiders which I saw were of the
same size, they must have been nearly of the same age. This gregarious
habit, in so typical a genus as Epeira, among insects, which are so
bloodthirsty and solitary that even the two sexes attack each other, is
a very singular fact.
[10] Azara’s _Voyage_, vol. 1, p. 213.
In a lofty valley of the Cordillera, near Mendoza, I found another
spider with a singularly-formed web. Strong lines radiated in a
vertical plane from a common centre, where the insect had its station;
but only two of the rays were connected by a symmetrical mesh-work; so
that the net, instead of being, as is generally the case, circular,
consisted of a wedge-shaped segment. All the webs were similarly
constructed.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]