Wasps, Social and Solitary

by George W. Peckham; E. G. Peckham

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On a hillside near our cottage stands a log cabin, deserted and untenanted save for small creatures of the wild, which, though a favorite spot with wood-boring wasps, is an unprofitable place for study because of the difficulty of cutting out their nests without destroying property. One day in early July, however, when we were in the full fervor of hunting and longed to utilize every moment, the wasps in our garden seemed to have resolved that enjoyment and enjoyment only was their destined end and way, and became so exasperatingly idle that in disgust we turned to the cabin. For half an hour we saw nothing more exciting than a Trypoxylon immuring her victims and a Pompilus hunting spiders under the eaves, but at the end of that time Passolocus annulatus, a tiny wasp new to us, came flying quietly along and entered one of the holes with which the ends of the logs were riddled. She was carrying an aphis in her mandibles, and when this was duly stored she reappeared and flew away. She had probably just renewed her work after a spell of rest, since from this time on for nearly an hour she came back regularly every four or five minutes. She nearly always alighted on a blade of grass before going into the nest, but did not appear to be malaxing her prey. Presently another stage in the game was reached. She no longer brought aphides, but little pellets of mud with which she plastered up the opening. After she had finished this task and departed, we carefully chiseled into the log and laid bare the nest. The tunnel ran in for about three inches, and ended in three pockets which were well stocked with dead aphides, there being fifty-seven in all. The innermost cell contained a larva, and in the others were eggs, one of which hatched on the next day and one on the day following. This second one was probably laid just before the nest was sealed, giving forty hours for the egg stage; and it proved to be the healthiest of the three. The others perished in early infancy; but this one passed twelve days in eating, not only its own share of provisions, but those destined for the other members of the family as well, and then spun its cocoon.

We afterwards saw many of these wasps working in the logs of the cabin, and noticed that they seemed to have seasons of leisure alternating with spells of active work, as though when one cell had been filled up and the egg laid they felt at liberty to amuse themselves for a time before beginning on another. When an entirely new residence was to be chosen they went house-hunting among the old holes in the logs; and whether they had a high standard of sanitary conditions, or whether they objected to making extensive repairs, a great many places were examined and rejected before they settled down. The choice once made, many loads of pith were carried out before the little householder was satisfied. After the new abode was put to rights, the wasp would pass a whole day in rest, spending much of the time in looking out of her doorway and perhaps in observing the doings of her neighbors, but when she began to work she was very industrious, and allowed nothing to interfere with her labors, paying no more attention to us, no matter how closely our curiosity led us to interrogate her, than if we had been trees blown about by the wind.[ill89]

NEST OF PERENNIS

Some of the wasps dig deep into the stems of bushes to form galleries for their nests, but we found one wise genus that went in only far enough to make one or two cells, thus saving the trouble of carrying her cuttings thirty or forty centimeters in direct opposition to the force of gravity. This was Odynerus, whose nests we found in July, in blackberry and raspberry stems. Our first species was perennis, whose nests bear her mark in the shape of a pellet of earth placed above each mud partition. One of her cells contained a wasp larva and about sixteen caterpillars, nearly one third of which were dead, while the rest were more or less lively. They seemed to have been stung near the anterior part, as the last three or four segments were jerked up violently when touched. The larva went on eating, and the caterpillars went on dying from hour to hour. At the end of the eighth day, the baby wasp finished its meal, having eaten all that had been provided for it, as well as two dead caterpillars from another nest.

Much interest attaches to the way in which Odynerus lays her egg, since instead of following the common fashion of fastening it to the prey she suspends it by a tiny filament of web from the wall or ceiling of her cell. Thus in O. reniformis, nesting in the ground, it is hung from the ceiling, a mass of very imperfectly paralyzed caterpillars being collected below, and when the larva comes out the thread lengthens until the tiny jaws reach the food supply. Startle it ever so slightly and the waspling retreats by way of its web, descending again only when everything is quiet. For twenty-four hours it retains this path to safety, and then, growing bold, it drops down and feeds at its ease.

We had opened hundreds of plant stems in quest of these suspended eggs without being so fortunate as to find one, and were therefore much pleased when our kind friend, Dr. Sigmund Graenicher, whose interest in bees keeps him in touch with out-of-door happenings, and who has given us much valuable help, brought us two stalks, one of which had in it a nest of O. conformis, while the other contained two freshly provisioned cells of O. anormis. In all three the egg had been hung from the side of the cell about one third of the way down, and in the nest of conformis, from which all but one of the caterpillars had fallen, it hung loose against the wall. In the other nests the lower part was packed tightly with sixteen small larvæ, upon which lay the egg, supported in a horizontal position, although attached to the side wall exactly as in conformis, and above were eight more caterpillars, the whole forming a compact mass shut in by the usual partition of mud. So closely were they crammed in that after counting them we were unable to get them all back again, and although motionless in their narrow quarters they became quite active when relieved from pressure. This is an entirely different arrangement from that of O. reniformis, and since the larva is in contact with the caterpillars from the moment of hatching the manner of the egg-laying has no significance in relation to the safety of the young.[ill91]