THE YELLOW ANT — ANDRENA. 149 



The common Yellow Ant {Formica flava), so abundant in 

 marshes and gardens, is also a good burrower, though its habit- 

 ation is not so large or so elaborate as that of the Brown Ant. 

 This species is very fond of making its subterranean houses un- 

 der stones or similar substances, and I have found hundreds of 

 the nests under fiat stone tiles that had once been employed in 

 edging the walks of a large kitchen-garden, and had been pressed 

 aside or sunk flat upon the earth. It is a curiously sociable spe- 

 cies, for it is often found occupying one side of a little hillock 

 while another species of ant, Myrmica scabrinodis, has possession 

 of the other. This latter species is sometimes extremely abund- 

 ant ; and it is a rather remarkable fact, that some of our rarest 

 British beetles are only to be found in the nests of the ants. 



As is well known, the ants do not retain their wings for any 

 lengthened period, and after these members have served the pur- 

 pose for which they were intended, they are broken off by the 

 insect by means of a transverse seam near the base. There are, 

 however, many of the permanently winged hymenoptera which 

 possess very great powers of burrowing, and are able to excavate 

 soil so hard that a knife can scarcely make its way through the 

 solidly impacted mass of earth and stones. 



The mining bees, which belong to the genus Andrena, are ad- 

 mirable burrowers, and in spite of their small size, drive their 

 little tunnels into the earth with astonishing ease. I once came 

 on a whole colony of the Andrena, in a peculiarly hard and stony 

 path near Dieppe. The ground was full of little holes, from 

 which the bees were continually issuing, and into which others 

 were as continually passing; their bodies yellow with the pollen 

 of the flowers which they had been rifling, and which was in- 

 tended to serve as a provision for the future brood. 



An ordinary pocket-knife could make no impression on the 

 ground, mixed as it was with stones, trodden by daily traffic, and 

 baked by the heat of summer, into a mass nearly as hard as brick, 

 harder perhaps than the bricks that are employed for modern 

 houses. I was obliged, therefore, to return to my room and fetch 

 a great, rude, thick-bladed clasp-knife that was reserved for rough 

 work, and with much labor succeeded in tracing several of the 

 burrows. They were sunk, on an average, about eight inches 

 into the ground, and near the end they took a sudden turn, and 

 were ended by a rounded chamber, in which was almost invaria- 



