Two hundred miles to the north-east of Chien-ch’ang, and separated from it by a series of mountain ranges, is the prefecture of Chia-ting, within which insect white wax as an article of commerce is produced. In the end of April, the scales are gathered from the ligustrum in the Chien-ch’ang valley, and collected for the most part at the town of Tê-ch’ang, on the right bank of the An-ning River, which I have already mentioned, in latitude 27° 24′.
TRANSPORT OF THE INSECTS.
To this town porters from Chia-ting annually resort in great numbers—in former years they are said to have numbered as many as ten thousand—to carry the scales across the mountains to Chia-ting. The scales are made up into paper packets, each weighing about sixteen ounces, and a load usually consists of about sixty packets. Great care has to be taken in the transit of the scales. The porters between the Chien-ch’ang valley and Chia-ting travel only during the night, for, at the season of transit, the temperature is already high during the day, and would tend to the rapid development of the insects and their escape from the scales. At their resting places, the porters open and spread out the packets in cool places. Notwithstanding all these precautions, however, each packet, on arrival at Chia-ting, is found to be more than an ounce lighter than when it started from Chien-ch’ang. In years of plenty, a pound of scales laid down in Chia-ting costs about half-a-crown; but in years of scarcity, such as last year, when only a thousand loads are said to have reached Chia-ting from Chien-ch’ang, the price is doubled.
In favourable years, a pound of Chien-ch’ang scales is calculated to produce from four to five pounds of wax; in bad years, little more than a pound may be expected, so that, taken as a whole, white wax culture has in it a considerable element of risk.
THE WHITE WAX TREE.
West from the right bank of the Min River, on which the city of Chia-ting lies, stretches a plain to the foot of the sacred O-mei range of mountains. This plain, which runs south to the left bank of the Ta-tu River, which forms the northern boundary of the Chien-ch’ang valley farther west, is an immense rice-field, being well-watered by streams from the western mountains. Almost every plot of ground on this plain, as well as the bases of the mountains, are thickly edged with stumps, varying from three or four to a dozen feet in height, with numerous sprouts rising from their gnarled heads. These stumps resemble, at a distance, our own pollard willows. The leaves spring in pairs from the branches; they are light green, ovate, pointed, serrated, and deciduous. In June, 1884, when I visited this part of the country, some of the trees were bearing bunches apparently of fruit in small pods; but, as no flowering specimens were then procurable, there still exists a little uncertainty as to this tree. I am informed, however, that it is, in all probability, the Fraxinus Chinensis, a species of ash. The tree is known to the Chinese as the Pai-la shu, or “white wax tree.”
It is to this, the great home of the wax tree, that the scales are carried from the Chien-ch’ang valley. On their arrival, about the beginning of May, they are made up into small packets of from twenty to thirty scales, which are enclosed in a leaf of the wood-oil tree. The edges of the leaf are tied together with a rice-straw, by which the packet is also suspended close under the branches of the wax tree. A few rough holes are drilled in the leaf with a blunt needle, so that the insects may find their way through them to the branches.
On emerging from the scales, the insects creep rapidly up the branches to the leaves, among which they nestle for a period of thirteen days. They then descend to the branches and twigs, on which they take up their positions, the females, doubtless, to provide for a continuation of the race by developing scales in which to deposit their eggs, and the males to excrete the substance known as white wax. Whether or not the wax is intended as a protection to the scales, I am not prepared to say. I have frequently observed, however, scales far removed from any deposit of white wax, and it may be asked whether or not it is in these scales at a distance from the wax that the female beetles, cuckoo-like, deposit their eggs. The Chinese in Chia-ting have learned to distinguish the wax-producing from the non-wax-producing insects. They divide them into two classes, called respectively, the la-sha, or “wax sand,” and the huang-sha, or “brown sand.” The former, which are of a reddish-white colour, are declared to be the wax producers, while the latter, which are of a brownish colour, are said to produce no wax. These are, without doubt, the males and females respectively. During the thirteen days after their escape from the scales, and their future life when studded on the bark, the insects must derive their nourishment from the sap of the tree, although to the unaided eye there is no visible impression on leaves or bark. From the absence of any such marks, the Chinese declare that the insects live on dew, and that the wax perspires from their bodies.
The wax first appears as a white coating on the under sides of the boughs and twigs, and resembles very much sulphate of quinine, or a covering of snow. It gradually spreads over the whole branch, and attains, after three months, a thickness of about a quarter of an inch. When the white deposit becomes visible on the branches, the farmer may be seen going the round of his trees, carefully belabouring each stump with a heavy wooden club, in order, as he says, to bring to ground the la-kou, or “wax dog,” a declared enemy of the wax insect. This probably refers to the beetle-mother. This clubbing of the stumps was done during the heat of the day, when the wax insects are said to have a firm hold of the bark.
After the lapse of a hundred days from the placing of the insects on the wax tree, the deposit is complete. The branches are then lopped off, and as much of the wax as possible removed by hand. This is placed in an iron pot of boiling water, and the wax, melting, rises to the surface, is skimmed off and placed in a round mould, whence it emerges as the white wax of commerce. Where it is found impossible to remove the wax by hand, twigs and branches are thrown into the pot, so that this wax is darker and inferior. Finally, not satisfied that all the wax has been collected, the operator takes the insects, which have meantime sunk to the bottom of the pot, and placing them in a bag, squeezes them until they have given up the last drop of their valuable product. They are then—an ignominious ending to their short and industrious career—thrown to the pigs!