If You Were a Car­pen­ter Ant

This is the third part of our two weeks of »Fun­go­ma­nia«. See hereand here for first two parts.

by Roberto

If you were a Car­pen­ter ant (Cam­pono­tus leonardi­) in a rain­for­est in Thai­land, your nest would be built high atop the canopy and, as a worker, you would sel­dom ven­ture down to the ground du­ring your for­ag­ing trips. Some­how, per­haps for the pres­ence of eerie-look­ing ant grave­yards, you are hes­i­tant to go along the path on the for­est floor. But be­cause of oc­ca­sional breaks in the ca­no­py, tra­vers­ing those paths be­comes in­evitable. That was the case a cou­ple of weeks ago, when there was that strange dust de­scend­ing onto you from the skies. You re­acted to the dust that had stuck to your ex­oskele­ton with your usual preen­ing. But that did not pre­vent some of the par­ti­cles from en­ter­ing your res­pi­ra­tory sys­tem through holes called spir­a­cles. You did not make much of those events then. But now you are just not feel­ing any­thing like your usual self. This morn­ing you left the nest early and have been won­der­ing aim­lessly, in­ca­pable of fol­low­ing the pheromone tracks left by your nest-mates. You have a strong urge to climb on any veg­e­ta­tion you can find. Yet your ef­forts are re­peat­edly ren­dered use­less by pe­ri­odic con­vul­sions that force you to fall off. And you start your climb again. Then, very close to noon­time, with the sun at its high­est point, you seek the cen­tral vein on the un­der­side of a leaf, you open your mandible wide and bite onto that vein with all the force you can muster. Some­how, you can no longer open your mandible, you re­main in that grip. In a few hours, you are dead...

Fig­ure 1. Heads of ma­nip­u­lated ants col­o­nized by fungi. A (top panel) is a light mi­cro­graph (LM) sag­gi­tal sec­tion through the head of an O. uni­la­te­ra­lis in­fected ant that was bit­ing a leaf at the mo­ment of fix­a­tion (that is, alive). The small grey blobs are fun­gal hy­phal bod­ies that fill the head and mandibles. Note the spac­ing be­tween the mus­cle fibers. The in­sect shows a close up of hy­phal bod­ies around the post-pha­ryn­geal gland (PPG). B is the brain, Mu, Mus­cles and Cu is cu­ti­cle. B is a LM of healthy mus­cle and C is a LM of mus­cle from a be­hav­iorally ma­nip­u­lated ant that was bit­ing a leaf and alive when re­moved for fix­a­tion. The small blobs be­tween the fibers are fun­gal cells. Source

If you were this Car­pen­ter ant, you would sim­ply be an­oth­er Zom­bie Ant. The strange dust that fell upon you a cou­ple of weeks ago was a cloud of spores from the ob­li­gate en­to­mopath­o­genic fun­gus Ophio­cordy­ceps uni­la­te­ra­lis. The fun­gal growth took over a large frac­tion of your head cav­ity with­out killing you un­til your be­hav­ior was mo­dified to pre­cisely po­si­tion your dy­ing body to op­ti­mize spore dis­per­sal. The death-grip, af­ter which you died, was the re­sult of wide­spread tis­sue dam­age in the brain and mandibu­lar mus­cle (Fig. 1). Over a cou­ple of weeks af­ter that fa­tal bite a large fun­gal stalk will rise from the back of what used to be your head. This will be fol­lowed by a propul­sive re­lease of spores. Then, some of these spores will likely fall onto an­other worker ant to once again be­gin the bizarre life cy­cle of this fun­gus.

Here at STC, we've had pre­vi­ous posts (in 2008 and 2012) de­scrib­ing as­pects of this re­mark­able be­hav­ior ma­ni­pu­la­tion of Car­pen­ter ants by O. uni­lat­er­alis. As a fol­low-up to Elio's de­scrip­tion of plant mimikry by fungi in Part 2 of our »Fun­go­ma­nia«, I wanted to con­tribute a brief up­date on this evolv­ing story of fun­gal ma­nip­u­la­tion of ant be­hav­iors as Part 3 of this year's »Fun­go­ma­nia«. The pro­gress of our un­der­stand­ing of the bi­ol­ogy be­hind the Zom­bie Ants had pre­vi­ously all come from stun­ning, care­ful (and in my view ex­tremely ex­cit­ing) field stud­ies that started with the ini­tial recog­ni­tion of the phe­nom­e­non around the time Dar­win pub­lished "On The Ori­gin of Species" (1859). Only in the last few years have such beau­ti­ful stud­ies be­gun to be com­ple­mented by lab­o­ra­tory work, where the ap­proaches of mol­e­c­u­lar bi­ol­ogy can be ap­plied to bet­ter un­der­stand the mech­a­nisms un­der­ly­ing the be­hav­ior ma­nip­u­la­tion of an an­i­mal with a brain by a brain­less fun­gus. Two pa­pers in par­tic­u­lar point at the new di­rec­tions that re­searchers study­ing this phe­nom­e­non are tak­ing.

Fig­ure 2. Nat­ural and lab in­fec­tions with O. uni­la­te­ralis A C. cas­ta­neus and B C. ame­ri­ca­nus in­fected with O. uni­lateralis col­lected in Don­alds, SC. C O. unil­a­teralis cul­ture iso­lated from an in­fected C. casta­neus spec­i­men. D Ma­nip­u­lated C. castane­us and E C. amer­i­canus upon in­fec­tion with O. uni­lat­er­alis in the lab. Source

The work de­scribed on the first pa­per be­gins not in the trop­i­cal rain­forests of Thai­land or Brazil but in a tem­pe­rate for­est of Don­alds County, South Car­olina (USA). There a team led by Charissa de Bekker, from David Hughes' lab at Penn State, searched for and found a new O. uni­lat­er­alisfrom an in­fected ant still hang­ing from the un­der­side of a twig (Fig. 2). (As it turns out, each strain of fun­gus ma­nip­u­lates its host's be­hav­ior to fit its dis­per­sal need in each spe­cific habi­tat. In South Car­olina, rather than forc­ing the ant into a death-grip on the un­der­side of a leaf, the ants bite the un­der­side of twigs.) Us­ing this newly dis­cov­ered strain, they car­ried out lab­o­ra­tory in­fections of four dif­fer­ent ant species, two known to be in­fected in the field Cam­pono­tus cas­ta­neus and Cam­po­no­tus amer­i­canus) and one that had never been ob­served to be in­fected even in ar­eas where the fun­gus could be found (Cam­pono­tus penn­syl­va­ni­cus). In­ter­est­ingly, the fun­gus killed all the lab-in­fected ants, re­gard­less of species. But fun­gal stalks were only seen to emerge from the car­casses of the species seen in­fected in the field. This, of course, ar­gues for the species-speci­ficity of the phe­nom­e­non and points to­ward a co-evo­lu­­tio­­na­ry process. Im­por­tantly, when the in­ves­ti­ga­tors stud­ied the be­hav­ior of the lab-in­fected ants, only C.castaneus and C.americanus were ob­served to die bit­ing twigs. To close this first pa­per, the in­ves­ti­ga­tors as­sessed the metabo­lites pro­duced by the fun­gus grown in the pres­ence or ab­sence of ant brains! As fur­ther in­di­ca­tion of spe­cific speci­ficity, the metabo­lites pro­duced var­ied de­pend­ing on the species that served as the source of the brains. In­ter­est­ingly, two com­pounds re­ported to be in­volved in neu­ro­log­i­cal dis­or­ders, guanobu­tyric acid and sphin­go­sine, were en­riched when the fun­gus was grown on the brains of its tar­get species.

In the sec­ond pa­per the in­ves­ti­ga­tors moved their ap­proach from metabolomics to tran­scrip­to­mics (along the way they also se­quenced the genome of the new strain of O. uni­lat­er­alis). I can only imag­ine the la­bor that must be in­volved in ex­tract­ing RNA from ant's heads! Fun­gal cul­tures grown in in­sect cell cul­ture me­dia, and heads of healthy ants served as their con­trols. In­fected ants were kept un­der a strict 12-hour dark 12-hour light regime and un­der these con­di­tions showed re­mark­able syn­chrony in the ma­nip­u­lated bit­ing be­hav­ior. The lights were turned on at 6 am, the ants bit the twigs but still moved at 9 am, and by 2 pm "bit the dust" (that is, they had died). So, the in­ves­ti­ga­tors de­cap­i­tated the ants and car­ried out the RNAseq ex­trac­tions and ana­lys­es from ants col­lected at 10 am (as the ex­hib­ited ma­nip­u­lated be­hav­ior) and at 2 pm (af­ter ma­ni­pu­la­tion). Ana­ly­ses of dif­fer­en­tially ex­pressed genes in both fun­gus and ant give a first view of the de­tailed phys­i­o­log­i­cal re­sponses of both or­gan­isms at those two times points.

Per­haps the most strik­ing fea­ture seen in the com­pleted genome of O. uni­lat­er­alis per­haps is that one third of the pro­teins pre­dicted to be se­creted are unique to this genome. And when the ana­lysis nar­rowed to small se­creted pro­teins, the frac­tion of those unique to this fun­gus goes up to one half. This points at a reper­toire of se­creted pro­teins that may have evolved specif­i­cally dur­ing the evo­lu­tion of its in­ter­ac­tion with its tar­get host species.

In terms of the dif­fer­ences in fun­gal gene ex­pres­sion be­tween 10 am (ma­nip­u­lated be­hav­ior) and 2 pm (af­ter ma­nip­u­la­tion), the most strik­ing fea­ture is that the fun­gus goes from ex­press­ing genes that might be in­volved in neu­ro­log­i­cal con­trol to genes that are clearly in­volved in eat­ing the car­cass, for ex­am­ple, up-reg­u­la­tion of car­bo­hy­drate pro­cess­ing genes.

Fig­ure 3. In­fo­graphic sum­ma­ri­zing the pu­ta­tively se­creted O. uni­lat­er­alis com­pounds and pos­si­ble C. cas­ta­neus processes found in this study that are seem­ingly in­volved in ma­nip­u­la­tion. Source

Fig­ure 3 sum­ma­riz­es the main find­ings of this work: the key processes that the fun­gus and the ant seem to be mod­u­lat­ing dur­ing ma­nip­u­lated bit­ing be­hav­ior. There are many changes go­ing on in­side those fun­gus-filled heads! To me the two most in­trigu­ing find­ings are the pos­si­ble se­cre­tion of many dif­fer­ent (bac­te­r­ial-type!) en­tero­tox­ins, er­got al­ka­loids, and polyke­tides. But you should in­spect the fig­ure to find your fa­vorite mo­le­cule(s). On the part of the ant, this late in the in­fec­tion, it may not be sur­pris­ing that there is a down-reg­u­la­tion of its im­mune sys­tem. But every­thing else we see as af­fec­ted points nicely to a phys­i­o­log­i­cal en­tity that de­servedly has been coined a Zom­bie ant.

With this work the in­ves­ti­ga­tors have opened wide a new win­dow into the stud­ies of par­a­site ma­nipulation of an­i­mal be­hav­ior. One might think that this is a bizarre evo­lu­tion­ary tale that has evolved only a few times. But noth­ing could be fur­ther from the truth. As Araujo and Hughes de­scribe in an ex­cel­lent re­view on the sub­ject, myr­iad fungi have "con­quered the in­sect body." And not just in­sects, spi­ders too. And who knows… Did you hear the one about the Ne­an­derthals that per­haps ate mush­rooms?

 

Fron­tispiece: 440 mil­lion years old fos­sil of Tor­to­tubus pro­tu­ber­ans from Got­land, Swe­den, show­ing stages in de­vel­op­ment of fil­a­men­tous en­ve­lope. Im­age credit: Mar­tin R. Smith. Source

 

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