If we require any of these wood-eaters, either for rearing or for preservation, we must be prepared for a little rather heavy work. A strong pocket knife is not sufficient, but with a good chisel the wood can be gradually cut away, and the galleries traced, till at last we come to the larvæ snugly resting in their burrows.
It often happens that the tree thus tenanted is half decayed, and consequently the work is rendered much easier. Also, while tearing away the wood, we often meet with a number of cocoons that have been constructed by the caterpillars for their winter quarters, or as a resting place while undergoing their transformations. These are composed of the wood dust bound together by strong silk fibres, and are often in such a good state of preservation that they form useful illustrations for the cabinet.
As further aids to larvæ searching we may mention that many species—chiefly of the Noctuæ—hide under the surface of the ground or among dense and low herbage during the day, and come out to feed only by night; that many others feed on roots, and are therefore seldom seen above the surface of the soil; also that a good number burrow into fruits, in the interior of which they spend the whole of their larval stage. The best way to secure the latter is to examine the 'windfalls' that lie scattered on orchard lands, for it is a well-known fact that the fruits that are infested with larvæ generally fall earlier than others—a result that must be attributed to the damaging work of the larvæ themselves.
All the larvæ collected should be carefully boxed at once, a separate compartment being used for each species, and a few fragments of the food plant being introduced in each case. It is also a good plan to have each box previously lined with moss as a further addition to the comfort of the captives. Without such a precaution some of the more delicate species are liable to injury during their transmission from field to home.
Hitherto we have obtained our larvæ by searching only, but there are times and occasions when our boxes may be far more rapidly filled by methods that are not such a tax on our time and patience. Suppose, for instance, that we reach a bush, the mutilated leaves of which seem to show that larvæ are present on its branches. We spread our white cloth or open out the white-lined umbrella just under a selected branch, and then tap that branch very smartly with our stick.
Down comes a host of living creatures! Spiders, larvæ, beetles, aphides, earwigs, and what not, struggling and running about on our white fabric in all directions, and all mingled with bits of stick, leaves, and fragments of all kinds. We leave the cloth or the umbrella, as the case may be, quite still for a few seconds to allow all the living creatures to get a good foothold, and then, raising it into a vertical position, allow all the rubbish to drop off.
We can now put the cloth down again, and select as many of the larvæ as we require, giving our first attention to the nimble runners and loopers that are already near the edge and just on the point of making their escape. This productive method of larva hunting is known as 'beating,' and is particularly applicable to tall herbs and the lower branches of trees and shrubs.
The same principle may be employed in the case of branches that are quite out of the reach of the stick, but the blows are here
applied to the trunk, a mallet or some other rather heavy implement taking the place of the stick.