Wasps.—Of the wasps, one formidable species (Sphex ferruginea of St. Fargeau), which is common to India and most of the eastern islands, is regarded with the utmost dread by the unclad natives, who fly precipitately on finding themselves in the vicinity[1] of its nests, which are of such ample dimensions, that when suspended from a branch, they often measure upwards of six feet in length.[2]
1: In ought to be remembered in travelling in the forests of Ceylon that sal volatile applied immediately is a specific for the sting of a wasp.
2: At the January (1839) meeting of the Entomological Society, Mr. Whitehouse exhibited portions of a wasps' nest from Ceylon, between seven and eight feet long and two feet in diameter, and showed that the construction of the cells was perfectly analogous to those of the hive bee, and that when connected each has a tendency to assume a circular outline. In one specimen where there were three cells united the outer part was circular, whilst the portions common to the three formed straight walls. From this Singhalese nest Mr. Whitehouse demonstrated that the wasps at the commencement of their comb proceed slowly, forming the bases of several together, whereby they assume the hexagonal shape, whereas, if constructed separately, he thought each single cell would be circular. See Proc. Ent. Soc. vol. iii. p. xvi.
Bees.—Bees of several species and genera, some divested of stings, and some in size scarcely exceeding a house-fly, deposit their honey in hollow trees, or suspend their combs from a branch; and the spoils of their industry form one of the chief resources of the uncivilised Veddahs, who collect the wax in their upland forests, to be bartered for arrow points and clothes in the lowlands.[1] I have never heard of an instance of persons being attacked by the bees of Ceylon, and hence the natives assert, that those most productive of honey are destitute of stings.
1: A gentleman connected with the department of the Surveyor-General writes to me that he measured a honey-comb which he found fastened to the overhanging branch of a small tree in the forest near Adam's Peak, and found it nine links of his chain or about six feet in length and a foot in breadth where it was attached to the branch, but tapering towards the other extremity. "It was a single comb with a layer of cells on either side, but so weighty that the branch broke by the strain."
The Carpenter Bee.—The operations of one of the most interesting of the tribe, the Carpenter bee,[1] I have watched with admiration from the window of the Colonial Secretary's official residence at Kandy. So soon as the day grew warm, these active creatures were at work perforating the wooden columns which supported the verandah. They poised themselves on their shining purple wings, as they made the first lodgment in the wood, enlivening the work with an uninterrupted hum of delight, which was audible to a considerable distance. When the excavation had proceeded so far as that the insect could descend into it, the music was suspended, but renewed from time to time, as the little creature came to the orifice to throw out the chips, to rest, or to enjoy the fresh air. By degrees, a mound of saw-dust was formed at the base of the pillar, consisting of particles abraded by the mandibles of the bee; and these, when the hollow was completed to the depth of several inches, were partially replaced in the excavation after being agglutinated to form partitions between the eggs, as they are deposited within.
1: Xylocopa tenuiscapa, Westw.; X. latipes, Drury.
Ants.—As to ants, I apprehend that, notwithstanding their numbers and familiarity, information is very imperfect relative to the varieties and habits of these marvellous insects in Ceylon.[1] In point of multitude it is scarcely an exaggeration to apply to them the figure of "the sands of the sea." They are everywhere; in the earth, in the houses, and in the trees; they are to be seen in every room and cupboard, and almost on every plant in the jungle. To some of the latter they are, perhaps, attracted by the sweet juices secreted by the aphides and coccidæ; and such is the passion of the ants for sugar, and their wonderful faculty of discovering it, that the smallest particle of a substance containing it, though placed in the least conspicuous position, is quickly covered with them, where not a single one may have been visible a moment before. But it is not sweet substances alone that they attack; no animal or vegetable matter comes amiss to them; no aperture appears too small to admit them; it is necessary to place everything which it may be desirable to keep free from their invasion, under the closest cover, or on tables with cups of water under every foot. As scavengers, they are invaluable; and as ants never sleep, but work without cessation, during the night as well as by day, every particle of decaying vegetable or putrid animal matter is removed with inconceivable speed and certainty. In collecting shells, I have been able to turn this propensity to good account; by placing them within their reach, the ants in a few days will remove every vestige of the mollusc from the innermost and otherwise inaccessible whorls; thus avoiding all risk of injuring the enamel by any mechanical process.
1: Mr. Jerdan, in a series of papers in the thirteenth volume of the Annals of Natural History, has described forty-seven species of ants in Southern India. But M. Nietner has recently forwarded to the Berlin Museum upwards of seventy species taken by him in Ceylon, chiefly in the western province and the vicinity of Colombo, Of these many are identical with those noted by Mr. Jerdan as belonging to the Indian continent. One (probably Drepanognathus saltator of Jerdan) is described by M. Nietner as "moving by jumps of several inches at a spring."
But the assaults of the ants are not confined to dead animals alone, they attack equally such small insects as they can overcome, or find disabled by accidents or wounds; and it is not unusual to see some hundreds of them surrounding a maimed beetle, or a bruised cockroach, and hurrying it along in spite of its struggles. I have, on more than one occasion, seen a contest between them and one of the viscous ophidians, Coecilia glutinosa[1], a reptile resembling an enormous earthworm, common in the Kandyan hills, of an inch in diameter, and nearly two feet in length. It would seem as if the whole community had been summoned and turned out for such a prodigious effort; they surrounded their victim literally in tens of thousands, inflicting wounds on all parts, and forcing it along towards their nest in spite of resistance. In one instance to which I was a witness, the conflict lasted for the latter part of a day, but towards evening the Cæcilia was completely exhausted, and in the morning it had totally disappeared, having been carried away either whole or piecemeal by its assailants.