_Aquilegia canadensis_
_Flower_--Red outside, yellow within, irregular, 1 to 2 in. long,
solitary, nodding from a curved footstalk from the upper leaf axils.
Petals 5, funnel-shaped, but quickly narrowing into long, erect, very
slender hollow spurs, rounded at the tip and united below by the 5
spreading red sepals, between which the straight spurs ascend; numerous
stamens and 5 pistils projecting. _Stem_: 1 to 2 ft. high, branching,
soft-hairy or smooth. _Leaves_: More or less divided, the lobes with
rounded teeth; large lower compound leaves on long petioles. _Fruit_: An
erect pod, each of the 5 divisions tipped with a long, sharp beak.
_Preferred Habitat_--Rocky places, rich woodland.
_Flowering Season_--April-July.
_Distribution_--Nova Scotia to the Northwest Territory; southward to the
Gulf states. Rocky Mountains.
Although under cultivation the columbine nearly doubles its size, it
never has the elfin charm in a conventional garden that it possesses
wild in Nature’s. Dancing, in red and yellow petticoats, to the rhythm
of the breeze along the ledge of overhanging rocks, it coquettes with
some Punchinello as if daring him to reach her at his peril. Who is he?
Let us sit a while on the rocky ledge and watch for her lovers.
Presently a big muscular bumblebee booms along. Owing to his great
strength, an inverted, pendent blossom, from which he must cling upside
down, has no more terrors for him than a trapeze for the trained
acrobat. His long tongue--if he is one of the largest of our sixty-two
species of _Bombus_--can suck almost any flower unless it is especially
adapted to night-flying sphinx moths, but can he drain this? He is the
truest benefactor of the European Columbine _(A. vulgaris)_, whose spurs
suggested the talons of an eagle _(aquila)_ to imaginative Linnaeus when
he gave this group of plants its generic name. Smaller bumblebees,
unable through the shortness of their tongues to feast in a legitimate
manner, may be detected nipping holes in the tips of all columbines,
where the nectar is secreted, just as they do in larkspurs, Dutchman’s
breeches, squirrel corn, butter and eggs, and other flowers whose deeply
hidden nectaries make dining too difficult for the little rogues.
Fragile butterflies, absolutely dependent on nectar, hover near our
showy wild columbine with its five tempting horns of plenty, but sail
away again, knowing as they do that their weak legs are not calculated
to stand the strain of an inverted position from a pendent flower, nor
are their tongues adapted to slender tubes unless these may be entered
from above. The tongues of both butterflies and moths bend readily only
when directed beneath their bodies. It will be noticed that our
columbine’s funnel-shaped tubes contract just below the point where the
nectar is secreted--doubtless to protect it from small bees. When we see
the honey-bee or the little wild bees--_Halictus_ chiefly--on the
flower, we may know they get pollen only.
Finally a ruby-throated humming bird whirs into sight. Poising before a
columbine, and moving around it to drain one spur after another until
the five are emptied, he flashes like thought to another group of
inverted red cornucopias, visits in turn every flower in the colony,
then whirs away quite as suddenly as he came. Probably to him, and no
longer to the outgrown bumblebee, has the flower adapted itself. The
European species wears blue, the bee’s favorite color according to Sir
John Lubbock; the nectar hidden in its spurs, which are shorter,
stouter, and curved, is accessible only to the largest bumblebees.
There are no humming birds in Europe. Our native columbine, on the
contrary, has longer, contracted, straight, erect spurs, most easily
drained by the ruby-throat which, like Eugene Field, ever delights in
“any color at all so long as it’s red.”
To help make the columbine conspicuous, even the sepals become red; but
the flower is yellow within, it is thought to guide visitors to the
nectaries. The stamens protrude like a golden tassel. After the anthers
pass the still immature stigmas, the pollen of the outer row ripens,
ready for removal, while the inner row of undeveloped stamens still acts
as a sheath for the stigmas. Owing to the pendent position of the
flower, no pollen could fall on the latter in any case. The columbine is
too highly organized to tolerate self-fertilization. When all the
stamens have discharged their pollen, the styles then elongate; and the
feathery stigmas, opening and curving sidewise, bring themselves at the
entrance of each of the five cornucopias, just the position the anthers
previously occupied. Probably even the small bees, collecting pollen
only, help carry some from flower to flower; but perhaps the largest
bumblebees, and certainly the humming bird, must be regarded as the
columbine’s legitimate benefactors. Caterpillars of one of the dusky
wings (_Papilio lucilius_) feed on the leaves.