You know what bugs me about dung beetles?…

…Their silly little shit-eating grins!

Okay, I know this isn’t a true dung beetle, but this earth-boring scarab (family Geotrupidae) is close enough that I’ll take the opportunity to use one of my favorite dung beetle jokes.¹ This is one of several individuals that I saw on a late October hike along the North Fork Section of the Ozark Trail in extreme south-central Missouri (just a few miles north of the Arkansas border). I regard these beetles to represent the species Geotrupes splendidus based on the punctured elytral striae, sutural striae ending at the scutellum, bright green coloration, and obvious punctures in the lateral areas of the pronotum. Of the half dozen adults that I saw during the day, all were found singly on animal dung or on the ground nearby.  This was the most abundantly I’ve ever seen this species—up to that point I’d accumulated only a handful of specimens, always on mild days in late fall or early winter in association with animal dung on trails through high quality woodlands. The timing and circumstance is also true for Geotrupes blackburnii, the only other species in the genus that I have collected in Missouri—albeit much more commonly and abundantly than G. splendidus and easily distinguished from that species by its slightly smaller size, nearly impunctate pronotum and all black coloration.

¹ By the way, I don’t recall the provenance of that joke, other than I saw it as a one-frame cartoon, featuring two entomologists talking to each other, posted on a Department of Entomology door while I was in graduate school—way back in the early 1980s. If you know please tell me!

Geotrupes splendidus miarophagus | Ozark Co., Missouri—yes, it’s sitting on shit!

An interesting contrast between this species and true dung beetles (scarabs in the subfamily Scarabaeinae and representing such genera as Copris, Phanaeus, Canthon, Onthophagus, etc.) is the fact that while this species can and does utilize dung for both larval development and adult feeding, it is not the preferred food. Rather, adults are more often found feeding on fungus, and leaf litter—tightly packed by the adult at the end of a burrow in the soil, is most often used for larval development (Howden 1055). This does not seem to be a universal feature of the genus, as the common Missouri species, G. blackburnii, does seem to prefer dung for larval development. This is not to say that either species is exclusive in its preference—both seem to be more flexible in food choice than the true dung beetles, but in reality the larval biology of a great many species in this and other genera of the family remain unknown.

The opinion of scarab expert would be most helpful at this point. This species is broadly distributed across eastern North America, with eastern populations generally brighter green and western populations (e.g., here in Missouri) more often yellow-green with golden or reddish hints but ranging to dark purple. In fact, all but one of the Missouri specimens in my collection are dark purple, the other being green similar to the six beetles I saw on this date. Howden (1955) recognized the western forms as a separate subspecies, G. splendidus miarophagus (originally described as the species G. miarophagus by Thomas Say). These two subspecies are listed as valid in the recent checklist of Nearctic Scarabaeoidea (Smith 2003), and the specimens in my collection from Missouri are labeled as such by scarab expert Bill Warner. Despite this, most other sources I’ve checked—including BugGuide—list G. miarophagus as a synonym of G. splendidus. Color alone—especially when it is as variable as in this species—seems weak justification for subspecific distinction. Howden (1955) mentions a curious case of G. s. miarophagus utilizing fresh grass clippings for larval development; however, it is difficult to imagine this as anything more than just a very recent adaptation. If there are other reasons supporting subspecific distinction besides deference to Henry Howden, I’d be interested in knowing what they are.

REFERENCES:

Howden, H. F. 1955. Biology and taxonomy of North American beetles of the subfamily Geotrupinae with revisions of the genera Bolbocerosoma, Eucanthus, Geotrupes and Peltotrupes (Scarabaeidae). Proceedings of the United States National Museum 104:151–319.

Smith, A. B. T. 2003. Checklist of the Scarabaeoidea of the Nearctic Realm. Version 3. Electronically published, Lincoln, Nebraska. 74 pp.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2013

It’s always a happy day…

…when the latest issue of The Coleopterists Bulletin arrives in my mailbox. On this occasion it was the December issue of Volume 66—nine papers and eight scientific notes filling 84 pages of beetle awesomeness. It’s pure elytral ecstasy! I presume I am like most subscribers—rapidly scanning the Table of Contents on the back cover to see if any deal directly with my preferred taxa. Yes! Two papers dealing with Buprestidae (jewel beetles), one on Cerambycidae (longhorned beetles), and one on Cicindelinae (tiger beetles)—a real bonanza. After that, a more cursory look through the rest of the Table of Contents to see what other papers look interesting enough to at least scan through.

For me the most interesting are the two Buprestidae papers, with Hansen et al. documenting new state records, larval hosts, and biological notes for 47 North American species and Westcott & Murray reporting the introduction into the U.S. of yet another Eurasian exotic (Trachys minutus) and its apparent establishment in Massachusetts. As the current “keeper” of distributional records and host plant associations for North American jewel beetles (along with Rick Westcott, Salem, Oregon), I will be busily updating my database over the next few days to reflect these new records. I am a great fan of “notes” papers such as these (and am, in fact, currently finishing a similar manuscript with co-author Joshua Basham, who is also a co-author on the Hansen et al. paper). However, I do have a few quibbles—Hansen et al. report Agrilus  quadriguttatatus as a new record for Tennessee, but it is already known from that state, and Cercis canadensis (eastern redbud) is reported as a new larval host for Anthaxia (Haplanthaxia) cyanella despite the prior records from that host by Knull (1920) and Hespenheide (1974). More puzzlingly, the authors record Agrilus lecontei celticola from locations in eastern Tennessee despite guidance from me on several occasions that this subspecies, while perhaps distinctive in Texas, transitions broadly across Louisiana and Mississippi  with the nominate subspecies. As such, material from eastern Tennessee cannot be regarded conclusively to represent this subspecies (and I remain unconvinced even that the subspecific distinction is warranted). Lastly, in recording Actenodes simi from Tennessee, the authors mention that the closest previous record is from Missouri with no specific locality mentioned (Fisher 1942), even though I recently recorded several specific locations for the species in eastern and southern Missouri (MacRae & Nelson 2003). The overall impression is that the authors are not fully versed in recent literature on Buprestidae and have instead relied exclusively on the recent Nelson et al. (2008) catalogue—known amongst buprestid workers to be incomplete and with errors—as the only source for determining the status of their records.

Among Cerambycidae, Raje et al. report the results of molecular analyses on two color forms of Sternidius alpha. This broadly distributed and highly variable species exhibits multiple color variants across its range, leading to the description of multiple subspecies that were eventually synonymized under the current name. Their analysis of the barcoding region of the cytochrome oxidase I gene, however, revealed three distinct clades among the two color forms, suggesting the potential for taxonomic significance. More work, of course, is needed from additional color morphs from different localities.

Finally, my friend Matt Brust and colleagues discuss the ovipositional behavior of numerous species of North American tiger beetles, unexpectedly finding that many oviposit only after digging some distance below the surface of the soil. This information is extremely valuable for those interested in rearing tiger beetles for description of larval stages, expanding the window of survey for species with limited temporal occurrence, and cross-breeding studies. To that end, and of greatest interest to me, they have included numerous observations from their own studies that have resulted in the development of successful protocols and rapid rearing of large numbers of larvae to adulthood.

Actually, there is one more thing… For several years now the December issue, as a bonus, has been accompanied by the Patricia Vaurie Series Monograph as a supplement to that year’s volume. This year’s issue features a revision of the scarab genus Euphoria by Jesús Orozco, and although I have not studied it carefully it looks like a robust treatment of the group. Yes, I know that scarabs are not one of my primary interest groups, but show me a coleopterist that—regardless of the group they work on— does not stop and collect these gorgeous, colorful, flower-loving beetles whenever they encounter them and I’ll show you a coleopterist that is far too restrictive in their natural history interests! Based on examination of nearly 19,000 specimens from 67 collections, the work considers 59 valid species (ten of which are described as new) distributed throughout the Western Hemisphere. Complete with keys to species and, for each, synonymy, description, diagnosis, taxonomic history, natural history, temporal occurrence geographic distribution, and—of critical importance in my opinion—full data for all specimens examined, it is everything a good revision should be. Then there are the color plates—one full page for each species—with a large dorsal habitus view, closeups of the head, male genitalia, and color variants, a temporal distribution chart, and a map of its geographical distribution. Again, while I may not be a serious student of scarabs, you can bet that I’ll be going back through my holdings of Euphoria beetles and checking them to make sure they conform to this new standard of knowledge on the group.

REFERENCES:

Brust, M. L., C. B. Knisley, S. M. Spomer & K. Miwa. 2012. Observations of oviposition behavior among North American tiger beetle (Coleoptera: Carabidae: Cicindelinae) species and notes on mass rearing. The Coleopterists Bulletin 66(4):309–314.

Fisher, W. S. 1942. A revision of North American species of buprestid beetles belonging to the tribe Chrysobothrini. U. S. Department of Agriculture, Miscellaneous Publication 470, 1–275.

Hansen, J. A., J. P. Basham, J. B. Oliver, N. N. Youseef, W. E. Klingeman, J. K. Moulton & D. C. Fare. 2012. New state and host plant records for metallic woodboring beetles (Coleoptera: Buprestidae) in Tennessee, U.S.A. The Coleopterists Bulletin 66(4):337–343.

Hespenheide, H. A. 1974.  Notes on the ecology, distribution, and taxonomy of certain Buprestidae.  The Coleopterists Bulletin 27(4) [1973]:183–186.

Knull, J. N. 1920. Notes on Buprestidae with description of a new species (Coleop.). Entomological News 31(1):4–12.

MacRae, T. C. and G. H. Nelson. 2003. Distributional and biological notes on Buprestidae (Coleoptera) in North and Central America and the West Indies, with validation of one species. The Coleopterists Bulletin 57(1):57–70.

Nelson, G. H., G. C. Walters, Jr., R. D. Haines, & C. L. Bellamy.  2008.  A Catalogue and Bibliography of the Buprestoidea of America North of Mexico.  Coleopterists Society Special Publication No. 4, The Coleopterists Society, North Potomac, Maryland, 274 pp.

Orozco, J. 2012. Monographic revision of the American genus Euphoria Burmeister, 1842 (Coleoptera: Scarabaeidae: Cetoniinae). Coleopterists Society Monographs, Patricia Vaurie Series No. 11, 182 pp.

Raje, K. R., V. R. Ferris & J. D. Holland. 2012. Two color variants of Sternidius alpha (Say) (Coleoptera: Cerambycidae) show dissimilar cytochrome oxidase I genes. The Coleopterists Bulletin 66(4):333–336.

Westcott, R. L. & T. C. Murray. 2012. An exotic leafminer, Trachys minutus (L.) (Coleoptera: Buprestidae), found in Massachusetts, U.S.A. The Coleopterists Bulletin 66(4):360–361.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2013

Bichos Argentinos #3 – “Bicho Torito”

Diloboderus abderus, male | Buenos Aires, Argentina

In her appeal for submissions for her upcoming issue of An Inordinate Fondness, Susannah lamented the paucity of beetles in the closing weeks of her northern winter and mentioned in passing that even I had gone more than a week without posting about this great order.  I hadn’t realized that myself, so here I present Diloboderus abderus, one of the beetles that I encountered during my visit last weekend to La Reserva Ecológica Costanera Sur in Buenos Aires, Argentina.  This species, known commonly in Argentina as bicho torito (“little bull bug”) is common enough in Argentina and southern Brazil, where its white grub larvae have become somewhat of a pest in lawns, pastures, and grass crops such as wheat by way of feeding on the roots.  I first encountered this species during one of my previous trips to Argentina, where during a rain storm I saw literally hundreds of adults emerging from mowed grass medians in the city streets of Pergamino.  These photographs show two of numerous dead individuals that I found laying on the ground of similar medians just outside the reserve.  As with many scarab beetles in the subfamily Dynastinae (containing also the recently featured Dynastes tityus), males (above) are armed with pronotal and cephalic horns – presumably for use in sexual combat - while females (below) are unarmed.

Diloboderus abderus, female | Buenos Aires, Argentina

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2011

North America’s largest scarab beetle

Dynastes tityus male - USA: Missouri, Jefferson Co., DeSoto

As one of North America’s largest, most written about, and most photographed beetles, Dynastes tityus (eastern Hercules beetle) hardly needs an introduction.  I photographed this male specimen from my collection back in December while testing my DIY diffuser for the MT-24EX twin flash and 100mm macro lens.  It’s a good test subject for such – its glossy exoskeleton may be beauty to the eye but is the bane of flash photographers, and its nearly 60mm of length demand a huge subject-to-lens distance that gives even the largest lens-mounted flash a small apparent size.  Nevertheless, the diffuser did a pretty good job of creating even illumination and preventing harsh specular highlights, giving almost the effect of an indirect strobe in a white box.

Dense setae adorn the underside of the thoracic horn of the male.

I hadn’t really noticed until I took the photos the dense adornment of setae (hairs) on the underside of the thoracic horn.  While setae in insects most often perform a tactile function, the density and placement on the horns of the males of these beetles makes me wonder if they might serve more of a display function.

Despite the overwhelming popularity of this beetle amongst hobbyist breeders and its widespread occurrence across the eastern United States (and the internet), it is not one that I have encountered with much frequency myself.  I suspect this is due to the position of Missouri near its western limit of distribution – likely a function of the species’ preference for moist treehole cavities with rotting wood in which the larvae can develop.  This particular specimen was given to me many years ago by a nursery grower in Jefferson Co. during my first job out of graduate school - before I’d ever found one myself, but since then I’ve encountered perhaps half a dozen or so at blacklights in mesic forests across the eastern Ozark Highlands.  Most recently (last summer) I found a female sitting on my driveway, apparently attracted to the mercury vapor lamp above the garage that I leave on occasionally during the months of June and July just for such purpose.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2011

Frenatae 2011 Calendar

Ralph Holzenthal - Tabanidae. Adobe Illustrator, gradient mesh/Adobe Photoshop.

Even though we’re now in the latter part of February, I wanted to spread the word about a cool insect-themed calendar shown to me by a colleague during my recent trip to Brazil. Produced by Frenatae, the Graduate Student Entomology Club at the University of Minnesota, the calendar features original work by students using computer illustration techniques taught in a UMN course titled, ENT 5051, Scientific Illustration of Insects. The mastermind behind this course is Dr. Ralph W. Holzenthal, who – as can be seen by the stunning image above of a female (L) and male (R) Tabanus lineola – knows a thing or two about insect illustration! While the course covers traditional techniques such as pen & ink, pencil, watercolor, etc., its major emphasis is on computer-assisted techniques using Adobe Illustrator® and Photoshop®. This includes instruction on preparing full habitus color illustrations of insects on the computer. How I wish a course such as this had been available when I was in graduate school (of course, how I wish computers had been available when I was in graduate school!).

While Dr. Holzenthal’s illustrative skills are obvious, it’s also clear that he excels at teaching these skills to his students, as evidenced by this selection of my favorite images (not surprisingly, all beetles!) from the course website galleries:

Caitlin Krueger - Scarabaeidae

Martha Megarry - Scarabaeidae

Heather Cummins - Zopheridae

.
It should be pointed out that all of these Photoshop illustrations represent original artwork and not modified photographs!

I ordered my copy of the calendar as soon as I returned home from my trip. You can order one too by sending a check for $12 to the following address:

Frenatae
1980 Folwell Ave Rm 219
St Paul, MN 55108

My thanks to Dr. Holzenthal for allowing me to post this small selection of images from his website.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2011

A bid for OpenLab

I’m going to do something I’ve not yet done before—ask for your support.  OpenLab is an annual compilation of the year’s best science-blog writing, as determined by a panel of judges, and the closing date for submissions for 2009 is December 1st—this coming Tuesday.  I’ve vacilated about whether to throw my hat into this ring—the world of science blogs is a crowded place with many erudite writers, and although science is my profession, the science that I write about is purely avocational.  Whether my particular brand of science writing can compete with that of the true academicians that seem to dominate the competition remains to be seen.  Nevertheless, I am willing to put my ego on the line and give it a shot.  If you have seen anything in the past year (since December 1, 2008) here at Beetles in the Bush that you consider exemplary, please consider submitting it.  Feel free to search the sidebar archives (“Taxa,” “Tags” or “Life History”), browse the site Contents, or select from the following list of my own personal favorites (arranged chronologically):

• Lions in South Africa
• Sanctuary for the Betulaceae
• Trees of Lake Tahoe – The Pines, The “Other” Conifers and The Deciduous Trees
• A Silver Anniversary
• Revisiting the Swift Tiger Beetle – Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3
• North America’s most beautiful longhorned beetle

So I don’t get accused of asking but not giving, I leave you with this photograph of a group of Kern’s flower scarabs (Euphoria kernii, family Scarabaeidae) congregated in the flower of large-root prickly pear cactus (Opuntia macrorhiza, family Cactaceae).  Photographed this past June at Four Canyon Preserve in northwestern Oklahoma, this common, extremely variable species (ranging from all black to black and white to black and yellow to nearly all yellow) can be found throughout the southern Great Plains, where it congregates tightly in flowers of Opuntia , pricklypoppy (Argemone spp., family Papaveraceae), thistle (Cirsium spp., family Asteraceae), and yucca (Yucca spp., family Liliaceae).

Photo details: Canon 100mm f/2.4 macro lens on Canon 50D (manual mode), ISO-100, 1/250 sec, f/16, diffused MT-24EX flash.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2009

Trilogy of Terror

Last week, Alex at myrmecos tagged me with a fun new meme called These are a few of my favorite stings…. It’s simple – list the things which have stung you (biting doesn’t count), and tag three others for their tales of envenomization. Of course, being the dedicated myrmecologist that he is, Alex leads off with a most impressive list of venomous arthropods, and he selected worthy competition in buzzybeegirl and bugeric.  But me?  I have, for the most part, succeeded in avoiding stings by focusing on a group of insects (beetles) that never evolved such structures.  My domestic list is short and mundane – honey bees, paper wasps, sweat bees, fire ants - and even those not very often.  Alex, however, suspected I might have some tales from exotic lands – thus, I offer the following trilogy and tag Art, Doug, and Kolby.

Tale 1
When I made my first Neotropical collecting excursion some 20 years ago to Ecuador, I was warned by my guide about large, black ants that he called “Congas.” I later learned the species to be what many people call the bullet ant (Paraponera clavata). Now, I’m not an expert on which arthropod truly has the most painful sting, but many people knowledgeable about such matters say it is this species – and I believe them! We were camped out in Sucumbios Province east of Nueva Loja (also called ”Lago Agrio”) at an Amazon forest site where recent construction had left rows of month-old slash lining both sides of a 2-km stretch of new road through the forest – can you say woodboring beetles? I roamed up and down that stretch of road, picking a wonderful diversity of longhorned beetles (Cerambycidae) and jewel beetles (Buprestidae) off the slash. At one point, I encountered a whole tree crown laying by the side of the road that required some clambering to get at the beetles crawling on its inner branches. At one point, I braced myself with my arm against a branch and immediately felt an excruciating pain. I looked at my arm and saw one of these large ants clamped onto my arm and quickly slapped it off. I really don’t think words can describe how painful that sting was, and not only did it throb for the rest of the day, but I actually felt sick for the next several days (though I still managed to keep roaming the slash rows). I don’t know if the bullet ant I captured right afterwards was the one that stung me, but I still took great delight in impaling a #2 insect pin through its thorax after I returned home.

Tale 2
Alex mentioned one plant – stinging nettle (Urtica dioica, which also lines one of my favorite mountain bike trails), but I’ve also had a run-in with a much more formidable plant in Mexico. Mala mujer (Cnidoscolus angustidens), which translates as “bad woman” in Spanish, deserves all the respect you can give it. Reported to be one of the most painful stinging nettle-type plants known, it grows commonly from the arid southwest down into the dry, tropical thorn forests of southern Mexico where my colleague Chuck Bellamy and I have made several trips in recent years to search for jewel beetles. One quickly learns to recognize this distinctive euphorbiaceous plant by its green palmate leaves with white veins and thick covering of yellow, stinging trichomes. Unfortunately, in my zeal for beating buprestids from Leucaena diversifolia (netting several of the rare Pelycothorax tylauchenioides and a now paratypical series of what was then an undescribed species of Agrilus), I forgot to maintain my lookout for this common understory plant and got a swipe across the knuckles. Not only did the extreme pain last for hours, but my ring finger began swelling so worrysomely that we stopped in a hospital looking for somebody to cut the ring off. My poor Spanish brought me no sympathy (or service), but fortunately the swelling began subsiding that evening and I didn’t lose my finger. I did, however, live with a rash for the next several days that developed into a hard, purple skin discoloration for the next several weeks.  Bad woman, indeed!

Tale 3
I debated whether to include this experience, but the terror was real so here it is. I wrote about it recently in an article called “Dungers and Chafers – a Trip to South Africa” that appeared in the December 2008 issue of SCARABS Newsletter. Enjoy this excerpt:

After arriving at the park [Borakalalo National Park, North West Province], I could hardly contain myself – I was so anxious to start collecting… We drove through the park for a little bit looking for a good spot to pull over and begin the hunt. After finding such a spot, I grabbed my trusty beating sheet and began doing what I have done so many times before – walking up to a tree, giving a branch a whack with the handle of my net, and hoping to see some prized buprestid laying on the beating sheet. The habitat was ideal for this – dominated by low, spreading acacias such as Acacia tortilis and A. karoo. Buprestids love acacias! I had already learned this in my travels through the American desert southwest and down into Mexico and South America – surely it was the same in South Africa. The first whack yielded nothing – typical. Even when collecting is good, buprestids are never “dripping from the trees,” and often one must literally beat dozens and dozens of trees to really get a good idea of the diversity and abundance of buprestid species that are active in a given area. I whacked a few more trees, with similar results. I then spotted one particularly large acacia tree – something about it said, “beat me!” I walked over to it and gave a branch a whack. All at once, it seemed as though the world was exploding! The air was suddenly abuzz with dozens of large, flying insects, whirring and swirling all around me. My first thought in that initial moment of terror was that I had whacked a hornet’s nest – who knew what kinds of deadly, venomous wasps one might encounter in Africa? Instinctively I ducked and started running, but within a few moments I realized that I was not being chased. Cautiously, I sneaked back towards the tree (after stuffing my heart back down my throat) and realized that they were not hornets after all, but instead beetles. I looked more closely and saw that the tree was literally alive with dozens and dozens of large, green cetoniines resembling our own green June beetle, Cotinis nitida (L.), which seemed to be attracted to the small, white blooms that covered the tree in profusion. I netted a few of the beetles, which I would later determine to represent the common savannah species Dischista cincta (de Geer) (Photo 2). Such was my welcome to Africa, where it seemed the trees literally are ‘dripping’ with beetles!

Photo 2. Disticha cincta (de Geer)

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2009

I Brake for Dung Beetles!

A few days ago I learned of a new campaign by The WILD Foundation called “Make a Big Impact with Small Change.” Founded in 1974, WILD seeks to protect intact wilderness areas and the wildlife and people who depend upon them. Their new campaign pays homage to dung beetles – usually overlooked by conservationists in favor of the so-called “charismatic megafauna,” but who nevertheless provide an important ecological service by tirelessly processing megafaunal dung. From the WILD website:

Here at The WILD Foundation, we realize that it is not just those large, charismatic animals that inspire conservation – it is often the small, typically unnoticed and vastly under-appreciated ones that inspire us the most….and that are an indispensible part of the ecosystem!

As a way of generating support for their work, WILD is giving away bumper stickers like the one pictured above. I have got to have one of these bumper stickers! It is the best entomology bumper sticker I’ve seen since “I fear no weevil!” The WILD website also features this amusing little video that shows some dung beetles in action:

more about “I Brake for Dung Beetles!“, posted with vodpod

The website doesn’t provide any clues as to the species of dung beetle or where it was recorded, but judging by its large size I’m guessing that it might have been recorded in Africa, perhaps representing a species of the genus Scarabaeus.  My most memorable dung beetle experiences occurred in Africa, which is blessed with a dizzying diversity of “dungers.”  Following is an excerpt from an article I wrote that appeared in the December 2008 issue of the SCARABS Newsletter, in which I discussed some of these marvelous beetles:

Chafers were not the only scarabs I encountered in abundance at Borakalalo [National Park], and I’ll give you one guess as to what other scarab group I encountered in abundance at this mammal game reserve. That’s right, dung beetles. Never before have I seen such an abundance and diversity of dung beetles in one spot, but then again, never before have I seen such an abundance of dung!  The ground was littered with the stuff – antelope such as gemsbok  and impala, warthogs, giraffes, and a host of other mammals thrive in the protected confines of the park, and the seasonally dry climate allows their dung to dry quickly and accumulate rather than breaking down and disappearing. It did, however, take a few days before I became aware of the area’s dung beetle diversity. Prior to our arrival in the park, the weather had been dry for some time, and so it remained for the first few days we were there. I collected a smattering of different dung beetles during that time, but it seemed like they should be more abundant considering the abundance of available resource. Our third day in the park was interrupted by heavy thundershowers that moved through during the afternoon. The next morning, as we arose and begin wandering away from the camp, the air seemed literally abuzz with dung beetles. They were flying everywhere and crawling all over the ground, frantically rolling and fighting over the reconstituted pieces of dung. Big, black scarabaeines proper such as Kheper clericus (Boheman) and Scarabaeus galenus Westwood (Photo 4), the small metallic

Photo 4: Scarabaeus galenus (Westwood).

Phalops ardea Klug, the attractive green iridescent species Garetta nitens (Olivier) and Gymnopleurus virens Erichson, their darkened relative Allogymnopleurus thalassinum (Klug) (Photo 5),

Photo 5: Allogymnopleurus thalassinum (Klug) individuals fighting over a mammal dung ball.

and the tiny little Sisyphus costatus (Thunberg),  standing tall on its elongated hind legs while pushing dung with its forward pairs of legs (opposite of what I’ve seen in any other dung beetle), all made their sudden appearance. I spent some time  watching one S. galenus individual excavating a burrow for the prized piece of poop it had snatched (Photo 6).

Photo 6: Scarabaeus galenus (Westwood) excavating a burrow.

The most impressive dunger that I saw, however, was the enormous, flattened Pachylomera femoralis Kirby (Photo 7).

Photo 7: Pachylomera femorata Kirby.

Looking like flying Tonka trucks and sounding like diesel engines from real trucks, their low-pitched, rumbling buzz filled the air as they searched among the freshly moistened turds. So loud was the noise caused by the beating of their wings that several times I ducked thinking one was about to collide with me. This sudden dunger super-diversity continued into the night, as Anachalcos convexus Boheman, Catharsius sp., Copris elphenor Klug, Metacatharsius sp., Pedaria sp., Scarabaeus goryi (Laporte), three species of Onitis, Caccobius ferrugineus (Fåhraeus), Digitonthophagus gazella (Fabricius), and nearly a dozen species of Onthophagus flew to our ultraviolet light-illuminated sheet.

REFERENCE:

MacRae, T. C. 2008. Dungers and chafers: A trip to South Africa. SCARABS 34:1-9.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2009