[Contents]CHAPTER XLCATERPILLARS AT TABLE“In the latter part of July the eggs hatch and through the covering of down appear, here and there, little heads pushing aside the fluff that is in their way. The first caterpillar hatched out crawls forward and begins to browse on the upper surface of the leaf, grazing it lightly and without eating through to the under surface or touching the veins; it feeds only on the pulpy matter forming most of the leaf’s thickness. As the hatching continues, another little caterpillar advances and takes its place beside the first, then a third, a fourth, and so on until the whole width of the leaf is occupied. In this way is formed the first row of browsing caterpillars, all with heads in a straight line and leaving in front a certain unoccupied space. The next caterpillar to emerge from under the matting of down begins a second row by taking its station at the tail of one of the preceding ones, after which others place themselves at the right and left. This row completed, a third is formed in the same manner, and then others, so that in a short time the entire surface of the leaf except the forward end is covered with rows of eaters. If one leaf is not enough for the[305]whole brood, the later comers establish themselves in like order on neighboring leaves.“There they are, then, all at table. The strictest discipline prevails in this leafy dining-hall: each caterpillar gnaws what is directly under its mandibles, without turning to right or left, as that would take from its neighbor’s share; without advancing ahead of its own line, as that would mean using the supplies of the future; and without falling behind, as that would throw the rear ranks into confusion. Under these conditions a few mouthfuls and no more fall to each caterpillar. That is very little for a larva’s appetite. It must have more, but how obtain it? Scatter abroad on other leaves, haphazard? Undoubtedly there is plenty of room for all on the tree. But that would be highly imprudent: they must keep together, for union is the strength of the weak; they must keep together to be able to offer some sort of formidable appearance to their enemies. It would be equally objectionable for each to be a law to itself and gnaw where it chose on the same leaf. The resulting confusion would cause waste, and also it would be very difficult for each to get its proper share, some stuffing themselves and others near by dying of hunger. In such absence of law and order they would come to blows and fight desperately for a footing on the leaf, so that civil war would soon thin their ranks, for there is no worse counselor in such emergencies than the stomach. Order is the only solution of[306]their problem, order which safeguards human as well as insect communities.”“What do they do, then?” asked Jules.“We are coming to that. Each caterpillar, as I said, gnaws only the spot directly within reach. In this way there is left unbrowsed, first the part covered by each body, and then the forward part of the leaf, which is still unoccupied. The first row of caterpillars advances one step and finds a second ration in the part thus reached; but at the same time it uncovers in the rear a crosswise strip one step wide, which the second row now advances to feed upon, while in its turn it leaves a similar strip free for the third row; and so on. One step forward for the whole troop puts each row in possession of the strip left uncovered by the preceding row. As for the first row, it feeds little by little on the forward part of the leaf, designedly left unoccupied in the beginning. When step by step the very end of the leaf is reached, each caterpillar has gnawed a strip as long and as wide as its own body. By that time the first meal is finished. You see that with order and economy a hundred and more caterpillars all have a place in the dining-hall on the surface of the leaf, and all have as nearly equal rations as if these had been allotted by weight and measure.”“Animals with their instinct are wonderful creatures, Uncle,” observed Jules. “Every day brings some fresh surprise.”“It is not the creature itself that is to be wondered at, my dear child; the marvels it accomplishes[307]are not the fruit of its reflection. A grub just out of the egg can have no ideas on method, economy, coöperation, when in order to acquire these ideas man needs the full maturity of his reason. Our tribute of admiration should be paid to the Infinite Wisdom which governs the world and leads a brood of caterpillars browsing the surface of a leaf.“Their first hunger appeased, the caterpillars construct a shelter from rain and the heat of the sun. On its gnawed side the leaf is dryer than on the other, and consequently has of itself taken a kind of concave shape by curling up, which makes it serve excellently for the floor and walls of the new abode. As for the ceiling, that is to be of silk. From one raised edge of the leaf to the other the caterpillars stretch threads to strengthen their shelter and serve as framework for the roof, and finally they weave a fabric on this network of threads. Thus is erected a tent under which the caterpillars take refuge for the night after roaming over the foliage most of the day, feeding sometimes on one leaf, sometimes on another. Thither also they retire when the heat is excessive or the weather threatening. It is a shelter hastily constructed and not of enduring quality, besides being too small to hold them all. So other tents are made of other gnawed leaves, and the caterpillars live for a while divided into small families.“But with the first rain-storms of autumn, in September or October, a large building is constructed for housing the whole colony through the[308]winter. It is a bulky mass of dry leaves and white silk, with no definite shape. The inside is divided with silk partitions into numerous apartments to which there is access through holes that pierce, systematically, the several partitions. Each enclosure thus has its doors which, without being directly opposite each other, yet provide free circulation. In short, this common nest, though made of extremely fine silk, is substantial enough to be proof against wind and weather, for the caterpillars use many webs, placed one over another and each containing a great number of threads. With the coming of the first cold weather all shut themselves up, the doors are barricaded with silk, and everything is made snug for the winter. Now let the wind blow and the snow fall! Curled up together and snuggling against one another, the caterpillars sleep the deep sleep produced by the cold, lying torpid in their house of silk until the warmth of opening spring awakens them and sends them forth to browse on the growing leaves.”“And don’t they eat anything all winter?” asked Emile.“All winter as well as a part of the autumn and spring they take no food whatever. Their fast lasts six months, and it is an absolute fast that must leave them with very empty stomachs.”“They must be awfully hungry when they wake up.”“So hungry that they make a dash for the tender young leaves and opening flowers, and in less than[309]no time strip an orchard bare. If the nests are very numerous whole forests are browsed to the last leaf.”“And then?”“To prevent these ravages the mayor’s notice is heeded. Some time in the winter these terrible bags of dry leaves and silk are detached from the trees, hedges, and bushes, and the nests with their occupants are burned. In spring it would be too late: the caterpillars would all have left their quarters.”[310]
[Contents]CHAPTER XLCATERPILLARS AT TABLE“In the latter part of July the eggs hatch and through the covering of down appear, here and there, little heads pushing aside the fluff that is in their way. The first caterpillar hatched out crawls forward and begins to browse on the upper surface of the leaf, grazing it lightly and without eating through to the under surface or touching the veins; it feeds only on the pulpy matter forming most of the leaf’s thickness. As the hatching continues, another little caterpillar advances and takes its place beside the first, then a third, a fourth, and so on until the whole width of the leaf is occupied. In this way is formed the first row of browsing caterpillars, all with heads in a straight line and leaving in front a certain unoccupied space. The next caterpillar to emerge from under the matting of down begins a second row by taking its station at the tail of one of the preceding ones, after which others place themselves at the right and left. This row completed, a third is formed in the same manner, and then others, so that in a short time the entire surface of the leaf except the forward end is covered with rows of eaters. If one leaf is not enough for the[305]whole brood, the later comers establish themselves in like order on neighboring leaves.“There they are, then, all at table. The strictest discipline prevails in this leafy dining-hall: each caterpillar gnaws what is directly under its mandibles, without turning to right or left, as that would take from its neighbor’s share; without advancing ahead of its own line, as that would mean using the supplies of the future; and without falling behind, as that would throw the rear ranks into confusion. Under these conditions a few mouthfuls and no more fall to each caterpillar. That is very little for a larva’s appetite. It must have more, but how obtain it? Scatter abroad on other leaves, haphazard? Undoubtedly there is plenty of room for all on the tree. But that would be highly imprudent: they must keep together, for union is the strength of the weak; they must keep together to be able to offer some sort of formidable appearance to their enemies. It would be equally objectionable for each to be a law to itself and gnaw where it chose on the same leaf. The resulting confusion would cause waste, and also it would be very difficult for each to get its proper share, some stuffing themselves and others near by dying of hunger. In such absence of law and order they would come to blows and fight desperately for a footing on the leaf, so that civil war would soon thin their ranks, for there is no worse counselor in such emergencies than the stomach. Order is the only solution of[306]their problem, order which safeguards human as well as insect communities.”“What do they do, then?” asked Jules.“We are coming to that. Each caterpillar, as I said, gnaws only the spot directly within reach. In this way there is left unbrowsed, first the part covered by each body, and then the forward part of the leaf, which is still unoccupied. The first row of caterpillars advances one step and finds a second ration in the part thus reached; but at the same time it uncovers in the rear a crosswise strip one step wide, which the second row now advances to feed upon, while in its turn it leaves a similar strip free for the third row; and so on. One step forward for the whole troop puts each row in possession of the strip left uncovered by the preceding row. As for the first row, it feeds little by little on the forward part of the leaf, designedly left unoccupied in the beginning. When step by step the very end of the leaf is reached, each caterpillar has gnawed a strip as long and as wide as its own body. By that time the first meal is finished. You see that with order and economy a hundred and more caterpillars all have a place in the dining-hall on the surface of the leaf, and all have as nearly equal rations as if these had been allotted by weight and measure.”“Animals with their instinct are wonderful creatures, Uncle,” observed Jules. “Every day brings some fresh surprise.”“It is not the creature itself that is to be wondered at, my dear child; the marvels it accomplishes[307]are not the fruit of its reflection. A grub just out of the egg can have no ideas on method, economy, coöperation, when in order to acquire these ideas man needs the full maturity of his reason. Our tribute of admiration should be paid to the Infinite Wisdom which governs the world and leads a brood of caterpillars browsing the surface of a leaf.“Their first hunger appeased, the caterpillars construct a shelter from rain and the heat of the sun. On its gnawed side the leaf is dryer than on the other, and consequently has of itself taken a kind of concave shape by curling up, which makes it serve excellently for the floor and walls of the new abode. As for the ceiling, that is to be of silk. From one raised edge of the leaf to the other the caterpillars stretch threads to strengthen their shelter and serve as framework for the roof, and finally they weave a fabric on this network of threads. Thus is erected a tent under which the caterpillars take refuge for the night after roaming over the foliage most of the day, feeding sometimes on one leaf, sometimes on another. Thither also they retire when the heat is excessive or the weather threatening. It is a shelter hastily constructed and not of enduring quality, besides being too small to hold them all. So other tents are made of other gnawed leaves, and the caterpillars live for a while divided into small families.“But with the first rain-storms of autumn, in September or October, a large building is constructed for housing the whole colony through the[308]winter. It is a bulky mass of dry leaves and white silk, with no definite shape. The inside is divided with silk partitions into numerous apartments to which there is access through holes that pierce, systematically, the several partitions. Each enclosure thus has its doors which, without being directly opposite each other, yet provide free circulation. In short, this common nest, though made of extremely fine silk, is substantial enough to be proof against wind and weather, for the caterpillars use many webs, placed one over another and each containing a great number of threads. With the coming of the first cold weather all shut themselves up, the doors are barricaded with silk, and everything is made snug for the winter. Now let the wind blow and the snow fall! Curled up together and snuggling against one another, the caterpillars sleep the deep sleep produced by the cold, lying torpid in their house of silk until the warmth of opening spring awakens them and sends them forth to browse on the growing leaves.”“And don’t they eat anything all winter?” asked Emile.“All winter as well as a part of the autumn and spring they take no food whatever. Their fast lasts six months, and it is an absolute fast that must leave them with very empty stomachs.”“They must be awfully hungry when they wake up.”“So hungry that they make a dash for the tender young leaves and opening flowers, and in less than[309]no time strip an orchard bare. If the nests are very numerous whole forests are browsed to the last leaf.”“And then?”“To prevent these ravages the mayor’s notice is heeded. Some time in the winter these terrible bags of dry leaves and silk are detached from the trees, hedges, and bushes, and the nests with their occupants are burned. In spring it would be too late: the caterpillars would all have left their quarters.”[310]
CHAPTER XLCATERPILLARS AT TABLE
“In the latter part of July the eggs hatch and through the covering of down appear, here and there, little heads pushing aside the fluff that is in their way. The first caterpillar hatched out crawls forward and begins to browse on the upper surface of the leaf, grazing it lightly and without eating through to the under surface or touching the veins; it feeds only on the pulpy matter forming most of the leaf’s thickness. As the hatching continues, another little caterpillar advances and takes its place beside the first, then a third, a fourth, and so on until the whole width of the leaf is occupied. In this way is formed the first row of browsing caterpillars, all with heads in a straight line and leaving in front a certain unoccupied space. The next caterpillar to emerge from under the matting of down begins a second row by taking its station at the tail of one of the preceding ones, after which others place themselves at the right and left. This row completed, a third is formed in the same manner, and then others, so that in a short time the entire surface of the leaf except the forward end is covered with rows of eaters. If one leaf is not enough for the[305]whole brood, the later comers establish themselves in like order on neighboring leaves.“There they are, then, all at table. The strictest discipline prevails in this leafy dining-hall: each caterpillar gnaws what is directly under its mandibles, without turning to right or left, as that would take from its neighbor’s share; without advancing ahead of its own line, as that would mean using the supplies of the future; and without falling behind, as that would throw the rear ranks into confusion. Under these conditions a few mouthfuls and no more fall to each caterpillar. That is very little for a larva’s appetite. It must have more, but how obtain it? Scatter abroad on other leaves, haphazard? Undoubtedly there is plenty of room for all on the tree. But that would be highly imprudent: they must keep together, for union is the strength of the weak; they must keep together to be able to offer some sort of formidable appearance to their enemies. It would be equally objectionable for each to be a law to itself and gnaw where it chose on the same leaf. The resulting confusion would cause waste, and also it would be very difficult for each to get its proper share, some stuffing themselves and others near by dying of hunger. In such absence of law and order they would come to blows and fight desperately for a footing on the leaf, so that civil war would soon thin their ranks, for there is no worse counselor in such emergencies than the stomach. Order is the only solution of[306]their problem, order which safeguards human as well as insect communities.”“What do they do, then?” asked Jules.“We are coming to that. Each caterpillar, as I said, gnaws only the spot directly within reach. In this way there is left unbrowsed, first the part covered by each body, and then the forward part of the leaf, which is still unoccupied. The first row of caterpillars advances one step and finds a second ration in the part thus reached; but at the same time it uncovers in the rear a crosswise strip one step wide, which the second row now advances to feed upon, while in its turn it leaves a similar strip free for the third row; and so on. One step forward for the whole troop puts each row in possession of the strip left uncovered by the preceding row. As for the first row, it feeds little by little on the forward part of the leaf, designedly left unoccupied in the beginning. When step by step the very end of the leaf is reached, each caterpillar has gnawed a strip as long and as wide as its own body. By that time the first meal is finished. You see that with order and economy a hundred and more caterpillars all have a place in the dining-hall on the surface of the leaf, and all have as nearly equal rations as if these had been allotted by weight and measure.”“Animals with their instinct are wonderful creatures, Uncle,” observed Jules. “Every day brings some fresh surprise.”“It is not the creature itself that is to be wondered at, my dear child; the marvels it accomplishes[307]are not the fruit of its reflection. A grub just out of the egg can have no ideas on method, economy, coöperation, when in order to acquire these ideas man needs the full maturity of his reason. Our tribute of admiration should be paid to the Infinite Wisdom which governs the world and leads a brood of caterpillars browsing the surface of a leaf.“Their first hunger appeased, the caterpillars construct a shelter from rain and the heat of the sun. On its gnawed side the leaf is dryer than on the other, and consequently has of itself taken a kind of concave shape by curling up, which makes it serve excellently for the floor and walls of the new abode. As for the ceiling, that is to be of silk. From one raised edge of the leaf to the other the caterpillars stretch threads to strengthen their shelter and serve as framework for the roof, and finally they weave a fabric on this network of threads. Thus is erected a tent under which the caterpillars take refuge for the night after roaming over the foliage most of the day, feeding sometimes on one leaf, sometimes on another. Thither also they retire when the heat is excessive or the weather threatening. It is a shelter hastily constructed and not of enduring quality, besides being too small to hold them all. So other tents are made of other gnawed leaves, and the caterpillars live for a while divided into small families.“But with the first rain-storms of autumn, in September or October, a large building is constructed for housing the whole colony through the[308]winter. It is a bulky mass of dry leaves and white silk, with no definite shape. The inside is divided with silk partitions into numerous apartments to which there is access through holes that pierce, systematically, the several partitions. Each enclosure thus has its doors which, without being directly opposite each other, yet provide free circulation. In short, this common nest, though made of extremely fine silk, is substantial enough to be proof against wind and weather, for the caterpillars use many webs, placed one over another and each containing a great number of threads. With the coming of the first cold weather all shut themselves up, the doors are barricaded with silk, and everything is made snug for the winter. Now let the wind blow and the snow fall! Curled up together and snuggling against one another, the caterpillars sleep the deep sleep produced by the cold, lying torpid in their house of silk until the warmth of opening spring awakens them and sends them forth to browse on the growing leaves.”“And don’t they eat anything all winter?” asked Emile.“All winter as well as a part of the autumn and spring they take no food whatever. Their fast lasts six months, and it is an absolute fast that must leave them with very empty stomachs.”“They must be awfully hungry when they wake up.”“So hungry that they make a dash for the tender young leaves and opening flowers, and in less than[309]no time strip an orchard bare. If the nests are very numerous whole forests are browsed to the last leaf.”“And then?”“To prevent these ravages the mayor’s notice is heeded. Some time in the winter these terrible bags of dry leaves and silk are detached from the trees, hedges, and bushes, and the nests with their occupants are burned. In spring it would be too late: the caterpillars would all have left their quarters.”[310]
“In the latter part of July the eggs hatch and through the covering of down appear, here and there, little heads pushing aside the fluff that is in their way. The first caterpillar hatched out crawls forward and begins to browse on the upper surface of the leaf, grazing it lightly and without eating through to the under surface or touching the veins; it feeds only on the pulpy matter forming most of the leaf’s thickness. As the hatching continues, another little caterpillar advances and takes its place beside the first, then a third, a fourth, and so on until the whole width of the leaf is occupied. In this way is formed the first row of browsing caterpillars, all with heads in a straight line and leaving in front a certain unoccupied space. The next caterpillar to emerge from under the matting of down begins a second row by taking its station at the tail of one of the preceding ones, after which others place themselves at the right and left. This row completed, a third is formed in the same manner, and then others, so that in a short time the entire surface of the leaf except the forward end is covered with rows of eaters. If one leaf is not enough for the[305]whole brood, the later comers establish themselves in like order on neighboring leaves.
“There they are, then, all at table. The strictest discipline prevails in this leafy dining-hall: each caterpillar gnaws what is directly under its mandibles, without turning to right or left, as that would take from its neighbor’s share; without advancing ahead of its own line, as that would mean using the supplies of the future; and without falling behind, as that would throw the rear ranks into confusion. Under these conditions a few mouthfuls and no more fall to each caterpillar. That is very little for a larva’s appetite. It must have more, but how obtain it? Scatter abroad on other leaves, haphazard? Undoubtedly there is plenty of room for all on the tree. But that would be highly imprudent: they must keep together, for union is the strength of the weak; they must keep together to be able to offer some sort of formidable appearance to their enemies. It would be equally objectionable for each to be a law to itself and gnaw where it chose on the same leaf. The resulting confusion would cause waste, and also it would be very difficult for each to get its proper share, some stuffing themselves and others near by dying of hunger. In such absence of law and order they would come to blows and fight desperately for a footing on the leaf, so that civil war would soon thin their ranks, for there is no worse counselor in such emergencies than the stomach. Order is the only solution of[306]their problem, order which safeguards human as well as insect communities.”
“What do they do, then?” asked Jules.
“We are coming to that. Each caterpillar, as I said, gnaws only the spot directly within reach. In this way there is left unbrowsed, first the part covered by each body, and then the forward part of the leaf, which is still unoccupied. The first row of caterpillars advances one step and finds a second ration in the part thus reached; but at the same time it uncovers in the rear a crosswise strip one step wide, which the second row now advances to feed upon, while in its turn it leaves a similar strip free for the third row; and so on. One step forward for the whole troop puts each row in possession of the strip left uncovered by the preceding row. As for the first row, it feeds little by little on the forward part of the leaf, designedly left unoccupied in the beginning. When step by step the very end of the leaf is reached, each caterpillar has gnawed a strip as long and as wide as its own body. By that time the first meal is finished. You see that with order and economy a hundred and more caterpillars all have a place in the dining-hall on the surface of the leaf, and all have as nearly equal rations as if these had been allotted by weight and measure.”
“Animals with their instinct are wonderful creatures, Uncle,” observed Jules. “Every day brings some fresh surprise.”
“It is not the creature itself that is to be wondered at, my dear child; the marvels it accomplishes[307]are not the fruit of its reflection. A grub just out of the egg can have no ideas on method, economy, coöperation, when in order to acquire these ideas man needs the full maturity of his reason. Our tribute of admiration should be paid to the Infinite Wisdom which governs the world and leads a brood of caterpillars browsing the surface of a leaf.
“Their first hunger appeased, the caterpillars construct a shelter from rain and the heat of the sun. On its gnawed side the leaf is dryer than on the other, and consequently has of itself taken a kind of concave shape by curling up, which makes it serve excellently for the floor and walls of the new abode. As for the ceiling, that is to be of silk. From one raised edge of the leaf to the other the caterpillars stretch threads to strengthen their shelter and serve as framework for the roof, and finally they weave a fabric on this network of threads. Thus is erected a tent under which the caterpillars take refuge for the night after roaming over the foliage most of the day, feeding sometimes on one leaf, sometimes on another. Thither also they retire when the heat is excessive or the weather threatening. It is a shelter hastily constructed and not of enduring quality, besides being too small to hold them all. So other tents are made of other gnawed leaves, and the caterpillars live for a while divided into small families.
“But with the first rain-storms of autumn, in September or October, a large building is constructed for housing the whole colony through the[308]winter. It is a bulky mass of dry leaves and white silk, with no definite shape. The inside is divided with silk partitions into numerous apartments to which there is access through holes that pierce, systematically, the several partitions. Each enclosure thus has its doors which, without being directly opposite each other, yet provide free circulation. In short, this common nest, though made of extremely fine silk, is substantial enough to be proof against wind and weather, for the caterpillars use many webs, placed one over another and each containing a great number of threads. With the coming of the first cold weather all shut themselves up, the doors are barricaded with silk, and everything is made snug for the winter. Now let the wind blow and the snow fall! Curled up together and snuggling against one another, the caterpillars sleep the deep sleep produced by the cold, lying torpid in their house of silk until the warmth of opening spring awakens them and sends them forth to browse on the growing leaves.”
“And don’t they eat anything all winter?” asked Emile.
“All winter as well as a part of the autumn and spring they take no food whatever. Their fast lasts six months, and it is an absolute fast that must leave them with very empty stomachs.”
“They must be awfully hungry when they wake up.”
“So hungry that they make a dash for the tender young leaves and opening flowers, and in less than[309]no time strip an orchard bare. If the nests are very numerous whole forests are browsed to the last leaf.”
“And then?”
“To prevent these ravages the mayor’s notice is heeded. Some time in the winter these terrible bags of dry leaves and silk are detached from the trees, hedges, and bushes, and the nests with their occupants are burned. In spring it would be too late: the caterpillars would all have left their quarters.”[310]