Wasps, Social and Solitary. George W. Peckham

      SPHEX DRAGGING GRASSHOPPER TO HER NEST

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      On the next morning, at half after eight o’clock, we took Lady Sphex down to her home, and placed the mouth of the bottle so that when she came out she had to enter the nest. This she did, remaining below, however, only a moment. When she came up to the surface she stood still and looked about for a few seconds, and then flew away. It surprised us that having been absent from the place for so many hours, she made no study of the locality as she had done before. We thought it a very unpromising sign, and had great fears that she was deserting the place and that we should see her no more. One would need to watch a wasp through the long hours of a broiling hot day to appreciate the joy that we felt when at nine o’clock we saw her coming back. She had no difficulty in finding her nest, nor did she feel any hesitation as to what ought to be done next, but fell to work at once at carrying out more dirt. The weather, although still hot, had become cloudy and so threatening that we expected a down-pour of rain every moment, but this seemed to make no difference to her. Load after load was brought up, until, at the end of an hour, everything seemed completed to her satisfaction. She came to the entrance and flew about, now this way, and now that, repeating the locality study in the most thorough manner, and then went away. At the expiration of an hour we saw her approaching with a large light green meadow-grasshopper, which was held in the mouth and supported by the fore legs, which were folded under. On arriving, the prey was placed, head first, near the entrance, while the wasp went in, probably to reassure herself that all was right. Soon she appeared at the door of the nest and remained motionless for some moments, gazing intently at her treasure. Then seizing it (we thought by an antenna) she dragged it head first into the tunnel.

      The laying of the egg did not detain her long. She was up in a moment and began at once to throw earth into the nest. After a little she went in herself, and we could plainly hear her humming as she pushed the loose material down with her head. When she resumed the work outside we interrupted her to catch a little fly that we had already driven off several times just as it was about to enter the nest. The Sphex was disturbed and flew away, and this gave us an opportunity to open the burrow. The grasshopper was placed on its back, with its head next to the blind end of the pocket and the legs protruding up into the tunnel.

      We found that the egg of the wasp, which was seven millimeters long, and rather slender, was placed on the under face of the thorax at a right angle to its length, and parallel with the femur of the second leg. This leg had apparently been stung so that it had swollen and folded over the free end of the egg, which was thus firmly held in place at both extremities.[3] Upon examination we found that the abdomen of the grasshopper was beating regularly and automatically, but the closest observation failed to discover any other movements, nor would any part respond when stimulated. At three o’clock in the afternoon we found the abdomen still pulsating, and, in addition, that both antennæ moved several times when we lifted off the cover of the jar that contained the insect. On the next morning the grasshopper was very lively, the antennæ and labial palpi moving without stimulation. It had passed fæces, and was able to lift its abdomen, which was curved over toward the head, as it lay on its back, frequently and with considerable violence. On the next afternoon there was no change in the movements, but the egg was dead. On the seventh the grasshopper responded to stimulation by a slight movement of the palpi and the end of the abdomen. The pulsation of the abdomen continued until the afternoon of the eighth, when it ceased, no effort of ours succeeding in starting it again. The movements of the antennæ and palpi grew weaker and weaker on the ninth, and on the morning of the tenth the insect was dead, a period of five and a half days having elapsed since it was brought into the nest.

      We had not supposed that the digging up of her nest would much disturb our Sphex, since her connection with it was so nearly at an end; but in this we were mistaken. When we returned to the garden about half an hour after we had done the deed, we heard her loud and anxious humming from a distance. She was searching far and near for her treasure house, returning every few minutes to the right spot, although the upturned earth had entirely changed its appearance. She seemed unable to believe her eyes, and her persistent refusal to accept the fact that her nest had been destroyed was pathetic. She lingered about the garden all through the day, and made so many visits to us, getting under our umbrellas and thrusting her tremendous personality into our very faces, that we wondered if she were trying to question us as to the whereabouts of her property. Later we learned that we had wronged her more deeply than we knew. Had we not interfered she would have excavated several cells to the side of the main tunnel, storing a grasshopper in each. Who knows but perhaps our Golden Digger, standing among the ruins of her home, or peering under our umbrella, said to herself: “Men are poor things: I don’t know why the world thinks so much of them.”