CHAPTER XI
THE TWO-BANDED SCOLIA
If strength were to take precedence of other zoological attributes, the Scoliæ would reign in the first rank, in the order of the Hymenoptera. Some of them can be compared in size with the little orange-crested northern Wren, the Kinglet, who comes down to us, to visit the maggoty buds, at the time of the first autumnal mists. The largest, the most imposing of our sting-carriers, the Humble-bee, the Hornet, cut a poor figure beside certain Scoliæ. Among this group of giants, my region boasts the Common or Garden Scolia (Scolia Hortorum, van der Lind), who exceeds four centimetres[1] in length and measures ten[2] from tip to tip of her outstretched wings, and the Hemorrhoidal Scolia (Scolia Hemorrhoïdalis, van der Lind), who vies in dimensions with the Garden Scolia and is distinguished from her, in the main, by the brush of red bristles at the tip of her belly.
A black livery, with broad yellow patches; tough wings amber as an onion-skin and shot with purple reflections; coarse, knotted legs, bristling with rugged hairs; a massive build; a powerful head, helmeted with a hard skull; a stiff and clumsy gait; a short, silent flight, devoid of soaring qualities: this, in few words, describes the [[144]]appearance of the female, powerfully equipped for her severe task. That love-lorn idler, the male, is more gracefully horned, more daintily clad, more elegantly shaped, without altogether losing the character of sturdiness which is the predominant feature in his mate.
It is not without qualms that the insect-collector finds himself for the first time in the presence of the Garden Scolia. How is he to capture the commanding brute, how to protect himself against its sting? If the effect of the sting be in proportion to the Hymenopteron’s size, then a prick from the Scolia is something to be dreaded. The Hornet, once he lugs out, hurts us atrociously. What, then, would it be like if one were stabbed by this colossus? The prospect of a swelling the size of your fist and as painful as though it were blistered by a red-hot iron passes through your mind, just as you are about to cast the net. And you refrain, you beat a retreat, only too glad not to have aroused the attention of the dangerous animal.
Yes, I confess to having quailed before my first Scoliæ, eager though I was to enrich my incipient collection with this glorious insect. Smarting recollections left behind by the Wasp and the Hornet had something to say to this excessive prudence. I say excessive, for to-day, taught by long experience, I have got the better of my former fears and, if I see a Scolia resting on a thistle-head, I have no scruples about taking her in the tips of my fingers, with no precaution of any kind, threatening though her aspect be. My pluck is only apparent, as I am pleased to inform the novice at Hymenopteron-hunting. The Scoliæ are very peaceful. Their sting is an implement of work much rather than a weapon of war: they use it to paralyze the prey intended for their family; and only in the last [[145]]extremity do they employ it in their own defence. Moreover, the lack of suppleness in their movements enables one nearly always to avoid the sting; and, lastly, if one were stung, the pain of the prick is almost insignificant. This absence of a bitter smart in the poison is a pretty constant fact among the game-hunting Hymenoptera, whose weapon is a surgical lancet intended for the most delicate physiological operations.
Among the other Scoliæ of my district, I will mention the middle-sized Two-banded Scolia (Scolia Bifasciata, van der Lind), whom I see yearly, in September, exploiting the manure-heaps of dead leaves arranged, for her benefit, in a corner of my yard. Let us watch her performance comfortably indoors.
After the Cerceris, it is well to study others, hunting an unarmed prey, a prey vulnerable at all points save the skull, but giving only a single prick with the sting. Of these two conditions, the Scoliæ fulfilled one, with their regulation game, the soft grub of Cetonia, Oryctes or Anoxia, according to their species. Did they fulfil the second? I was convinced beforehand, judging from the anatomy of the victims, with its concentrated nervous system, that the sting was unsheathed but once; I even foresaw the point in which the weapon must be thrust.
These were statements dictated by the anatomist’s scalpel, without the least direct proof from observed facts. Stratagems accomplished underground escaped the eye and seemed to me bound always to escape it. How, indeed, could one hope that an animal whose art is practised in the darkness of a manure-heap should be persuaded to work in the full light of day? I did not reckon on it in the least. Nevertheless, for conscience’ sake, I tried putting the Scolia in touch with her quarry [[146]]under glass. And it was well that I did so, for my success was in the inverse ratio to my expectations. Never did beast of prey show greater zeal in attacking under artificial conditions. Every insect experimented upon rewarded me, sooner or later, for my patience. Let us watch Scolia Bifasciata at work, operating on her Cetonia grub.