[Footnote 1: The Portuguese had made the attempt previous to the arrival of the Dutch, and a strip of land on the banks of the Kalany river near Colombo, still bears the name of Orta Seda, the silk garden. The attempt of the Dutch to introduce the true silkworm, the Bombyx mori, took place under the governorship; of Ryklof Van Goens, who, on handing over the administration to his successor in A.D. 1663, thus apprises him of the initiation of the experiment:—“At Jaffna Palace a trial has been undertaken to feed silkworms, and to ascertain whether silk may be reared at that station. I have planted a quantity of mulberry trees, which grow well there, and they ought to be planted in other directions.”—VALENTYN, chap. xiii. The growth of the mulberry trees is noticed the year after in a report to the governor-general of India, but the subject afterwards ceased to be attended to.]
In addition to the Atlas moth and the Mylitta, there are many other Bombycidae; in Ceylon; and, though the silk of some of them, were it susceptible of being unwound from the cocoon, would not bear a comparison with that of the Bombyx mori, or even of the Tusseh moth, it might still prove to be valuable when carded and spun. If the European residents in the colony would rear the larvae of these Lepidoptera, and make drawings of their various changes, they would render a possible service to commerce, and a certain one to entomological knowledge.
Stinging Caterpillars.—The Dutch carried to their Eastern settlements two of their home propensities, which distinguish and embellish the towns of the Low Countries; they indulged in the excavation of canals, and they planted long lines of trees to diffuse shade over the sultry passages in their Indian fortresses. For the latter purpose they employed the Suriya (Hibiscus populneus), whose broad umbrageous leaves and delicate yellow flowers impart a delicious coolness, and give to the streets of Galle and Colombo the fresh and enlivening aspect of walks in a garden.
In the towns, however, the suriya trees are productive of one serious inconvenience. They are the resort of a hairy greenish caterpillar[1], longitudinally striped, great numbers of which frequent them, and at a certain stage of growth descend by a silken thread to the ground and hurry away, probably in search of a suitable spot in which to pass through their metamorphoses. Should they happen to alight, as they often do, upon some lounger below, and find their way to his unprotected skin, they inflict, if molested, a sting as pungent, but far more lasting, than that of a nettle or a star-fish.
[Footnote 1: The species of moth with which it is identified has not yet been determined, but it most probably belongs to a section of Boisduval’s genus Bombyx allied to Cnethocampa, Stephens.]