Part 3

We are still told by many writers that the Insects are mere reflex machines, despite abundant evidences to the contrary. “This machine,” says M. de Molostwoff, “has no capacity for reasoning and lives as its body directs it to live. Man, however, is the only animal endowed with a will to live according to his reason, [does he?] and he alone is amenable for his actions to his Creator.”

The Wasp may, indeed, “live as its body directs it to live,” but this, according to many modern thinkers, is precisely what Man himself does, his “capacity for reasoning” being conditioned by heredity, largely controlled by “instinct,” and by his bodily structure and internal reactions--actions, reactions and interactions of the vegetative organism (viscera, glands, etc.) as well as the cerebro-spinal system. And just so the Ammophila Wasp may be a physico-chemical-biotic machine and yet possess the “capacity for reasoning,” yet at the same time “live as its body directs it to live”--its reasoning power being part and parcel of its organism as a whole.[17]

Lacordaire, in his well known “_Introduction a l’Entomologie_,” says of Insects:

“If all the instinctive acts of Insects bore constantly the evident imprint of a blind necessity, there would be much less to admire in them than one commonly does. What particularly excites our surprise is that frequently they accommodate themselves to circumstances, and that their acts take on then such an appearance of reason, that it is necessary to look at them closely not to attribute them to a veritable combination of ideas.”

“Insects are largely creatures of instinct,” remarks Professor Thomson, “with inborn capacities for doing apparently clever things, but yet with some degree of intelligence. In an animal’s behavior there is often, no doubt, a mingling of different kinds of activities unified in a way that baffles analysis. In many cases their behavior under new conditions, their powers of effectively meeting new ends, go beyond mere instinct.”

Prof. J. Lloyd Morgan was led to the conclusion that we have in the case of the tool-using wasp “intelligent behavior rising to a level to which some would apply the term rational. For the act may be held to afford evidence of the perception of the relation of the means employed to an end to be attained, and some general conception of purpose.” Professor Holmes expresses a doubt on this question: “Does she really perceive the relation of means to end? I am not so sure that she does.”

While it is certainly better to be over-cautious than to be inclined to anthropomorphic interpretations where physico-chemical and mechanical or other solutions meet the requirements of the case, there is, nevertheless, such a thing as avoiding an interpretation involving the recognition of a reasoning process in animals just for the sake of “conservatism.” There is no more merit in referring all phenomena to “instinctive behavior” in animals than there would be in attributing all acts of Man to “reasoning.” As matters stand today, the pendulum of thought has swung so far away from the “anthropomorphism of earlier writers” that we are apt to throw a sort of intellectual smoke-screen over a truly rational act by recourse to “the animal’s instinctive actions.”

Again, our “experiments” with animals are by no means a safe guide to accurate estimates of their mental attainments. Measurement of an animal’s real mental endowment may be far more safely made by observation of its behavior in its natural environment. That this is true is fully recognized by scientists who deplore the tendency of some observers to draw conclusions before becoming thoroughly acquainted with the general behavior of the forms observed. “On the other hand,” says Professor Holmes, “one is tortured by the feeling that our experimental methods often fail to give us a true measure of an animal’s possible attainments, and that it is just in meeting exceptional situations which occur in the animal’s natural course of life that the highest manifestations of its intelligence are reached.”

Wasps of the genus Eumenes are said to mould tempered earth into pottery of the most artistic design.

Fabre tells us that the ringed Calicurgus Wasp first stings its captured Spider in a spot near the mouth, paralyzing the poison claws. This precaution being taken, it proceeds to pick out the thinnest part of the Spider’s armor, between the fourth pair of legs, driving in its poison needle with a skilled surgeon’s precision.

The Two-banded Scolia Wasp lays up as food for its larva a Rose-chafer grub. A single grub is the sole provender for the larva for the several weeks from its hatching until its entrance into the cocoon stage. It has frequently been stated that the “head of game” must remain fresh all the time the Wasp larva is feeding on it, or the Wasp larva dies. To remain fresh it must stay alive until the larva takes its last mouthful.

To insure this, a complicated course must be followed with delicate precision by both the mother Wasp and the larva. With a single and seldom-erring stroke of its sting Scolia paralyzes the nerve-centers which control motion on the Rose-chafer grub--a stroke which must reach a buried nerve-center no more than a fiftieth of an inch across, and which must at the same time miss the nerve-center which keeps life in the victim.

The infant Scolia must then, to keep its food fresh to the end, so eat its living but paralyzed grub that the vital parts are left to the last meal. Accordingly, the Scolia lays its egg always at the precise spot on the Rose-chafer grub where the Wasp larva must take its first mouthful. There the larva inserts its head and never withdraws it until the grub is completely devoured. Fabre found by repeated experiment that if he disturbed the larva the chances were even that it lost the clue to its selective meal, killed its “game” and died of ptomaines. If he moved the recently hatched larva to another starting-place on its food supply it was infallibly lost. So it was also when Fabre gave it as food another grub, even though closely related to the Rose-chafer. It tried to eat the strange nutrient, but somehow never succeeded. Hence, according to most authorities at least, it is a prerequisite to the survival of Scolia that the mother Wasp select only the Rose-chafer grub, capable of being paralyzed in such a way as to leave the grub alive but without power to move. In all, there are four critical conditions to be met in order that the progeny survive: and they are met.

In their studies of the Mason Wasp, Odynerus parietum, the Peckhams found that, contrary to Eimer, the grubs stored for food for the larvæ were by no means all paralyzed, and that in most nests several caterpillars died. In some cases all the grubs died, yet the Wasp larvæ fed upon them without apparent injury or dissatisfaction.

Holmes remarks that while we may not be compelled to admit that Wasps have “ideas,” it must be granted, he thinks, “that a Wasp which after cutting a caterpillar in two and carrying away one part, came back and searched diligently for the remainder” retained, somehow, “an impression of the missing part and its location. If out of sight it was not out of mind.... If the Wasp does not have an idea of its prey it has something which plays a rôle similar to that of ideas in ourselves.... If there is something representing ‘part-of-caterpillar-among-leaves’ that leads the Wasp on its hunt, we may conclude that there is something corresponding to ‘part-of-caterpillar-now-in-nest’ which prevents further search.”

FOOTNOTES:

[16] Peckham, G. W. and E. G., “Wasps, Social and Solitary,” Boston, 1905.

[17] Cf. Loeb, Jacques, “The Organism as a Whole,” New York, 1916, and “The Dynamics of Living Matter,” New York, 1906; and Berman, Louis, “The Glands Regulating Personality,” New York, 1921.

BEES

Sir John Lubbock long ago declared that “if we judge animals by their intelligence as evidenced in their actions, it is not the Gorilla and the Chimpanzee, but the Bee, and above all the Ant, which approach nearest to Man.”

While Bees, Ants and Termites indisputably possess some degree of intelligence, as distinct from what we are pleased to call “instinct,” it is doubtful if any naturalist or comparative psychologist of today would agree with the eminent British scientist in this generalization. Yet Man has, perhaps, more to learn from the example of Bee life than from the more intelligent activities of the simian world.

Prof. W. F. Wilson, of the University of Wisconsin, in a recent lecture, remarked that a Bee knows when it has had enough, and is satisfied to work in a self-selected domain before it “grabs for more.” For instance, if a Bee settles itself to work in one corner of a field, it will not leave that corner until it has exhausted the nectar in all flowers in that corner. It will not fly to another corner after having found one flower deficient. Neither will it quit one plant until it has tried its tongue in all the flowers of that plant. This has been proved by releasing Bees with different colored powder spread on them and then watching them at work.

Professor Wilson stated that another experiment demonstrated that Bees have some mathematical ability. In this experiment it was found that the Bees realized when a sufficient number were working on one apple tree and no more tried to get on it.

Another peculiarity noticed by Professor Wilson is this: While Bees are at work they will not change from a flower of one color to one of another color until the nectar has been exhausted in the flowers of the first color. That is, if the Bee begins work on a blue aster, it will not go next to a red one, but always seeks a blue one again. This fact was noted by Aristotle in the fourth century B. C., though the belief is still widely prevalent that Bees “fly about from flower to flower in a haphazard way.” As a rule “Bees keep to a single species of flower for collecting pollen and nectar.”

Nevertheless, Bees are partially color-blind, as is evidenced by the experiments of two German biologists, Prof. F. Frisch and Lothar Tirala. “These investigators have shown that to the Bee, red and black look alike, orange and yellow look the same as green, and that there is no difference in the appearance of blue, violet and purple. But Bees have one advantage over Man; they can see the rays of ultraviolet light, which are invisible to our eyes.

“It was also discovered that the mysterious guiding influence by which the Bee is brought back to its hive is nothing more than experience. It has long been known that Bees find their way home sooner the longer they have lived in their hive. To test this common-sense view Bees were put to sleep by ether, taken to a new hive, and moved some twelve yards away. None of them could find their way back to the hive until the third day afterward, when 30 per cent got home. By the eighth day, however, 90 per cent of them had learned to find their way back to the hive.”[18]

Some experiments by Professor Young, of Geneva, antedating those of Professor Frisch, also showed that Bees “build up a knowledge of the country about the hive.” On the other hand, it seems to be well established that Bees, like most animals, have a true homing sense, or sense of direction. “Even Bees with their eyes obscured have been known to make a ‘bee-line’ for the hive from considerable distances,” says Thomson.

When, by exception, Bees build their nest in the open, they invent arrangements which are new and in the true sense intelligent to meet the new conditions (Bergson). In the face of cumulative evidence, the great Fabre was forced to modify his theory of immutable instinct, and grant to Insects a modicum of “discernment,” since they have the capacity of learning by experience.

Professor Frisch published in the Munich _Medizin Wochenschrift_ some observations upon the means of communication employed by Bees. “He placed a dish of sugar solution on a table by an open window. Shortly after a chance Bee had noted this and flown off with booty therefrom, the dish was crowded with Bees. When it was removed they quickly disappeared, save for an occasional reconnoiterer. When a fresh dish was set out they quickly reappeared in quantities. By touching the back of each Bee with a spot of color, the experimenter then perceived that subsequent Bees had been sent, and not escorted.

“The conduct of the rediscoverer on her return to the hive was next noted. She first gave over her plunder to the workers, and then executed a curious dance, describing circles and other figures. Her audience watched her attentively and attempted to touch her. When one of the marked Bees succeeded in doing this, the latter at once made her exit and flew to the feeding place; but the unmarked Bees soon ceased to pay her any attention. It appears that there is here some means of communication based upon touch rather than upon sight or hearing; and that it is adequate for giving information as to the presence or absence of food, but inadequate to give its location unless it be already known to the recipient of the message.

“Experiments with two dishes of food at a considerable distance apart verified this. As before, after they had once been discovered the dishes were removed and ultimately replaced; but when replaced, the ‘white’ dish only was filled, the ‘yellow’ one being left empty. The ‘white’ dish was rediscovered by a ‘white’ Bee; and when the latter returned to the hive not only the ‘white’ but also the ‘yellow’ Bees responded to her dance, left the hive and flew to their respective dishes, the ‘yellow’ Bees of course having the search in vain. As before, unmarked Bees ignored the dancer.

“That there is a little more flexibility to the signal system than this might indicate appeared when natural conditions were imitated, linden and acacia blossoms being offered respectively to groups of Bees accustomed to seek these. The dancing linden Bee now occasioned excitement only among the linden Bees, and not among the acacia group. The same distinction was made when two dishes of sugar were differently perfumed, suggesting that scent rather than actual modification of the signals may have been responsible. When blotting paper saturated with sugar-water was used instead of the dishes, the Bees found some difficulty in sucking the fluid up, and returned only half laden. They did not then trouble to perform the dance, showing that this is reserved for exceptionally rich finds.”[19]

The Bee is good-natured and even long-suffering, but there are limits to its patience or generosity. So long as nectar is superabundant, the Bee allows the drones to live in the communal hive without rendering any service in return. “But one day the decree goes forth that those who do not work shall not eat, indeed shall not live.... Vigorously and pitilessly the long-suffering workers at last turn on the drones and slay them all.”[20]

FOOTNOTES:

[18] _Scientific American_, April, 1924.

[19] _Scientific American_, April, 1922.

[20] “_The Outline of Science_,” Vol. II, edited by J. Arthur Thomson, 1922.

ANTS

Many scientists have asserted that, next to Man, Ants have the most intelligence of any living creature. Charles Darwin said “the Ant’s brain is one of the most marvelous atoms of matter in the world, perhaps more so than the brain of Man.”

In the opinion of the present writer the anthropoid apes stand next to man in intelligence. But it is quite true that in their social organization and industrial activities Ant “civilization,” in some respects, approximates human “civilization.”

Ants plant and harvest crops, domesticate animals, have a social system which includes working slaves and a military caste, a police force and jails. They perform astonishing feats of engineering. They have efficiency, initiative, and productivity without profiteering. Cooperation, individualism and “patriotism” exist side by side in a real _commonwealth_. There is a division of labor, but no exploitation of the many for the benefit of the few. All classes share equally in the benefits of their common toil, if we accept the highly specialized warrior ants as rendering military service equivalent to the work of the so-called “slaves.”

Members of the military caste do not work, and are fed by the slave population. But this is due to high specialization rather than to imposition or snobbery. The erstwhile working mandibles of the soldier have gradually become transformed into veritable sabres or bayonets. They could obtain their own food if they so desired, but they have become absolutely dependent on the “working class” for their daily bread.[21] But in return they protect the colony, even at the sacrifice of their own lives.

Each worker Ant finds its own task, and willingly contributes its share. There are no slave-drivers. When one shift of workers has become fatigued, or must stop to partake of food, its place is taken by another shift of equally skillful workers. No time is lost.

If one of the workers becomes encumbered with dirt, its mates come at once to its assistance with “first aid,” cleaning the unfortunate one by brushing and washing. During their mining operations in digging holes and removing stones, an Ant is often injured, whereupon others rush to its aid and carry it to a quieter gallery, where it is by no means neglected.

Above all animals of this planet, Ants know the value of mutual aid, though co-operation is practised among Insects of many kinds.[22]

Forel points out how it is a common practice among many species of Ants for one which possesses an abundance of food in its crop to share it with any of its less fortunate comrades who may apply for it--that is, with any member of the same nest or colony of nests. Approaching each other, they exchange a few signals--movements--of the antennæ, and, says Sir John Lubbock, “if one of them is hungry or thirsty ... it immediately asks for food.” The well-supplied Ant sets apart its mandibles, takes the appropriate position, and regurgitates a drop of half-digested food--a transparent fluid--which is licked up by the hungry Ant. Forel concluded that Ants possess a divided digestive tube, the posterior part being for the special use of the individual, the other, the anterior part, being used chiefly for the benefit of members of the commune. Any Ant which, possessing a crop full of food, refuses to feed a needy comrade, is treated as a “criminal” or outcast. During “war times” such an Ant is treated as a “traitor,” and attacked by its kinsfolk with greater fury than is exhibited toward the foreign enemies of the species. On the other hand, if an Ant has fed an Ant belonging to the enemy species, it will be treated by the kinsfolk of the latter as a friend.[23]

It is well known that the most convincing evidences of intelligence are to be found among the social Insects, where mutual aid is “the order of” every day.

When the able naturalist, Thomas Belt, was superintending a gold mine in Nicaragua, he kept close watch on the animal life about him, large and small. He tells us that he once saw a wide column of Ants attempting to pass along a crumbling, nearly perpendicular slope.

“They would have got very slowly over it, but a number having secured their hold, and reaching to each other, remained stationary, and over them the main column passed.

“Another time they were crossing a watercourse along a small twig, not thicker than a goose-quill. They widened this natural bridge to three times its width by a number of Ants clinging to it and to each other on each side, over which the column passed three or four deep. Except for this expedient they would have had to pass over in single file, and treble the time would have been consumed.

“Can it not be contended that such Insects are able to determine by reasoning powers which is the best way of doing a thing, and that their actions are guided by thought and reflection?”

In 1921, it was discovered that the interior woodwork of the Livestock Exchange Building in Wichita, Kansas, was being tunneled through by Ants. Flypaper was placed across their line of march. The Ants thereupon made sufficient sawdust to cover the sticky flypaper and went on with their “industry.”

Ants domesticate animals, for the same reason that Man does. Among other animals thus domesticated are herds of Plant-lice, or “green-flies,” which are to them the equivalent of our dairy animals. The Ants’ “cow” (Aphid) secretes a “honey-dew.” In order to increase the supply of the sweet excretion the Ants gently stroke the Aphids. When the sap supply for the Aphids fails, the Ants carry their “cows” to new food plants, and when winter comes on both the adult Plant-lice and the eggs are carried out of reach of frost into the Ant caverns and carefully attended until spring, when they are again placed on the swelling plant-buds.

The presence of certain little Crickets, Beetles, and a certain species of Caterpillar in the nests of the Termites and the true Ants, who seem to enjoy their presence, has recently been explained on the ground that the Ants like the odor of these strange “guests.” It has been noted that the Beetles give off more “fragrance” upon being caressed by the Ants. “One species of Ants carries Mites about on the body, feeding them and caring for them, but apparently deriving no benefit from them. Evidently Ants are fond of keeping pets!” (Thomson).

Professor Thomson (in the “Outline of Science,” Vol. II) writes delightedly of the varied activities of Insects, and concerning certain species he says:

“The Tailor-ants, common in warm countries, make a shelter by drawing leaves together, and their co-operative hauling is admirable; their mandibles are their needles, if you like, but they have nothing to sew with: what does each do but take a larva in its mouth so that the silk secreted from the offspring serves as thread for the parents?”

Again: “A common Harvesting-ant of South Europe collects seeds of clover-like plants, lets them begin to sprout so that the tough envelopes are burst, exposes them in the sun so that the germination does not go too far, takes them back underground and chews them into dough, and finally makes this into little biscuits which are dried in the sun and stored for winter use. Many ‘White Ants’ or Termites grow mushrooms in extensive, specially constructed beds of chewed wood, and some of the true Ants show a similar habit.”

That Ants have some means of communicating one with another goes without saying, but our knowledge of Ant language is still very meager, despite the long and patient labors of many myrmecologists. Some of the actions considered to be involved in communication are striking with the antennæ, butting with the head, opening the jaws, beating the ground with the abdomen, and the production of sounds by various kinds of apparatus for stridulation.

“While Ants may not be able to talk about things in their sign language,” says Professor Holmes, “they apparently express their different feelings and inclinations in ways which are intelligible to other Ants. Wasmann has compiled a sort of vocabulary of signs made by the antennæ--a ‘Wörterbuch der Fühlersprache,’ which is about as extensive as Mr. Garner’s languages of Apes. According to the vigor and frequency of the strokes of the antennæ, and the part of the body stroked, the Ant which is addressed may be importuned for food, warned of danger, or induced to co-operate with the communicants in various activities.”

FOOTNOTES:

[21] Cf. Lubbock, Sir John, “Ants, Bees and Wasps,” 1883; Wasmann, E., “Comparative Studies in the Psychology of Ants and of Higher Animals,” 1905; Forel, A., “_Recherches sur les fourmis de la Suisse_,” Zurich, 1874; “The Senses or Insects,” 1908. See also Beebe, William, “The Edge of the Jungle,” 1921.