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Review Blackwell Publishing Ltd Research review Evolving Darwin’s ‘most wonderful’ plant: ecological steps to a snap-trap Author for correspondence: Donald M. Waller Tel: +1 608 263 2042 Email: [email protected] Thomas C. Gibson1 and Donald M. Waller2 1 205 Danbury Court 2A, DeForest, WI 53532, USA; 2Department of Botany, University of Wisconsin, 430 Lincoln Drive, Madison, WI 53706, USA Received: 30 March 2009 Accepted: 10 May 2009 Summary New Phytologist (2009) 183: 575–587 doi: 10.1111/j.1469-8137.2009.02935.x Key words: Aldrovanda, Dionaea, Drosera, evolution of carnivory, snap-trap, Venus flytrap. Among carnivorous plants, Darwin was particularly fascinated by the speed and sensitivity of snap-traps in Dionaea and Aldrovanda. Recent molecular work confirms Darwin’s conjecture that these monotypic taxa are sister to Drosera, meaning that snap-traps evolved from a ‘flypaper’ trap. Transitions include tentacles being modified into trigger hairs and marginal ‘teeth’, the loss of sticky tentacles, depressed digestive glands, and rapid leaf movement. Pre-adaptations are known for all these traits in Drosera yet snap-traps only evolved once. We hypothesize that selection to catch and retain large insects favored the evolution of elongate leaves and snap-tentacles in Drosera and snap-traps. Although sticky traps efficiently capture small prey, they allow larger prey to escape and may lose nutrients. Dionaea’s snap-trap efficiently captures and processes larger prey providing higher, but variable, rewards. We develop a size-selective model and parametrize it with field data to demonstrate how selection to capture larger prey strongly favors snap-traps. As prey become larger, they also become rarer and gain the power to rip leaves, causing returns to larger snap-traps to plateau. We propose testing these hypotheses with specific field data and Darwinlike experiments. The complexity of snap-traps, competition with pitfall traps, and their association with ephemeral habitats all help to explain why this curious adaptation only evolved once. ‘I care more for Drosera than the origin of species ... it is a wonderful plant, or rather a most sagacious animal. I will stick up for Drosera to the day of my death.’ Letter from Charles Darwin to Asa Gray (Jones, 1923) Introduction Accounting for the evolution of transitions between forms in plausible detail represents an important domain of Charles Darwin’s theory of natural selection ever since ‘On the origin of species’ (Darwin, 1859). Treatises have been written on the © The Authors (2009) Journal compilation © New Phytologist (2009) acquisition and loss of eyes, how limbs evolved in quadrupeds, transitions to terrestrial life, how flight evolved in birds and bats, the origin of placental mammals, and Darwin’s ‘abominable mystery’, how angiosperms originated. Many unusual plant adaptations captured Darwin’s interest, including the ‘extravagant contrivances’ by which orchids attract pollinators (Darwin, 1862), heteromorphic flowers and the ‘wonderful efficiency’ of cleistogamy (Darwin, 1877), how plants move (Darwin, 1880), and various forms of plant carnivory (Darwin, 1875). The remarkably fast responses of Venus flytrap (Dionaea muscipula Ellis) to insects and simulated prey and their role in New Phytologist (2009) 183: 575–587 575 www.newphytologist.org 575 576 Review Research review providing nutrients particularly fascinated Darwin, prompting him to label it ‘one of the most wonderful plants in the world’. Although Darwin realized that readers might find details about carnivorous plants ‘dry as dust’ (letter to R. Cooke at J. Murray, September 1879) he may have viewed his investigations of their intricate adaptations as a ‘flank movement on the enemy’ as he did his book on orchids (letter to Asa Gray; Darwin, 1862; Sacks, 2008). With a power Darwin could only have dreamed of, molecular systematics has allowed us to reconstruct patterns of relationship within and among carnivorous plants. We now know that plant carnivory evolved at least six times independently, that pitfall-traps like those of pitcher plants evolved in four different orders, that sticky ‘flypaper’ traps evolved in at least three or four clades and diversified widely within the Droseraceae, and that snap-traps of the kind we see in Dionaea and the waterwheel plant (Aldrovanda vesiculosa L.) evolved once at least 65 million yr ago somewhere in the Old World (Muller, 1981; Cameron, 2002; Rivadavia et al., 2003). Sundews in the Droseraceae diversified into at least 175 species in the former Gondwana and are now particularly diverse in species and growth forms in Australia (97 species) and South Africa (18 species). Growth forms range from simple ground rosettes (1–5 cm across), to filiform-ensiform leafed rosettes (≥ 20 cm tall), to vines (10 cm to 3 m long), to the bush-like Drosera gigantea (1 m tall). This extreme diversity of forms may reflect displacement as a result of competition for insect resource (Thum, 1986; Gibson, 1991a; Verbeek & Boasson, 1993). The king sundew, Drosera regia, from South Africa is particularly noteworthy for having leaves up to 50 cm long and being closest to the lineage that evolved snap-traps. Both Dionaea and Aldrovanda were formerly more abundant and broadly distributed, as known for example from fossil Palaeoaldrovanda seed fragments from the late Cretaceous (85–75 million yr ago) found in the Czech Republic, the oldest known remains of a carnivorous plant (Knobloch & Mai, 1984; Degreef, 1997). Although still widespread, Aldrovanda’s range is still collapsing, dropping from > 150 to fewer than 36 locations in the last 200 yr as remnant populations suffer human disturbance and decline (Adamec, 1995). Its world-wide distribution strongly resembles those found for species in the unrelated aquatic carnivorous plant genus Utricularia (L. Adamec, pers. comm.), suggesting parallel adaptations to capture prey under similar conditions. Dionaea is known only from wet pine savannas in southeastern North America. Thus, snap-traps are rare both in the sense of having a single evolutionary origin and in the sense of having a narrow ecological distribution and shrinking range. The geographic range of Dionaea has also declined greatly since its origin more than 60 million yr ago. Land development and fire suppression continue to eliminate Dionaea populations, reducing its range to < 10% of its original habitat (300 km2; Weakley, 2001). Poaching and over-collection for the rare plant trade continue despite the availability of commercially New Phytologist (2009) 183: 575–587 www.newphytologist.org propagated plants (Nickens, 2008). To protect and restore its habitats to sustain populations of Darwin’s ‘most wonderful’ plant, we advocate listing the species as threatened or endangered under the US Endangered Species Act. Listing would designate critical habitats, protect against further habitat losses, strengthen enforcement of anti-poaching laws, and fund further scientific studies. A surcharge on commercially sold flytraps could add private resources to acquire, protect, and manage habitats (Gibson, 2003). How did snap-traps evolve from sticky-trap ancestors? As the name implies, snap-traps close suddenly, enclosing their prey like a mouse- or leg-hold trap, a mechanism clearly distinct from those found in both sticky traps and Utricularia bladder traps which suddenly expand to suck in prey. Because the Venus flytrap appears so different from sundews, it is hard to imagine how it might have evolved from sundew ancestors (Williams, 2002). What was the sequence of steps involved in this transition? What particular ecological conditions and selective forces favored these steps? Here, we first contrast sticky traps as found in Drosera with snap-traps as occur uniquely in Aldrovanda and Dionaea. Although sticky traps and snap-traps clearly differ greatly in morphology and action, their structures, physiology, and modes of action share many common features. Contrary to what some ‘intelligent design’ proponents have claimed, these commonalities demonstrate that, although snaptraps only evolved once, pre-adaptations for all their features clearly exist in close relatives. We next review the steps involved in this remarkable transition and introduce the likely selective forces involved. The most conspicuous such force concerns the nutrients returned via carnivory. As these vary strongly with prey size, we construct a model of size-specific carnivory to explore how evolution could have favored individual features of snaptraps. This analysis clearly demonstrates how capturing larger prey brings disproportionate rewards to traps that act swiftly and strongly enough to retain large prey. We then use field data to parametrize this model and assess its predictions. Finally, we outline further studies and data that would allow us to test these assumptions and predictions in detail. The originality here lies in going beyond traditional descriptions of trap forms to explore how such traps function in nature to capture wild prey. Carnivorous plants also provide model systems for examining how leaves and other organs diversified into traps to capture prey (Givnish et al., 1984; Juniper et al., 1989; Ellison et al., 2003; Barthlott et al., 2007). They have yielded insights into unique physiological and sensory traits (Williams, 1976; Adamec, 2000; Volkov et al., 2008; Ellison & Gotelli, 2009), patterns of phylogenetic radiation (Williams et al., 1994; Cameron, 2002; Rivadavia et al., 2003), and the importance of ecological conditions and nutrient limitation (Givnish et al., 1984; Ellison, 2006; Farnsworth & Ellison, 2008). For further descriptions of these fascinating plants see Givnish (1989), Ellison & Gotelli (2001), the books by Rice (2006) and Barthlott et al. (2007), and websites (e.g. Nickens, 2008; Botanical Society of America, 2009; Wikipedia, 2009). © The Authors (2009) Journal compilation © New Phytologist (2009) Research review Review Fig. 1 Related insectivorous plants. The circumboreal sundew, Drosera rotundifolia (a), has three to eight small leaves covered with simple stalked tentacles that capture insects via a sticky ‘fly-paper’ trap. Drosera falconeri (b) from northern Australia has stalked glands on the margin of the leaf blade, sessile glands in the center and prominent blade-like petioles resembling those of Dionaea. Selection to capture larger and more active prey within Drosera may have also favored elongate leaves to curl around their prey as in Dionaea’s closest relative, Drosera regia (c), and long, rapidly triggered snap-tentacles lacking mucilage as in Drosera pulchella (d). The snap-trap itself evolved once in the ancestor of both the aquatic plant Aldrovanda vesiculosa (e) and its sister species Dionaea muscipulis (f). Photo credits and permissions from: (a) Juza (http://www.juzaphoto.com); (b) B. C. Barnes, Florida Carnivorous Plant Society; (c) V. Brown; (d) photographer E. Pöhlmann and S. and I. Hartmeyer (http://www.hartmeyer.de/Schnelltentakel_D.htm); (e) L. Adamec; and (f) B. Rice (http://www.sarracenia.com). Adaptations in sticky traps vs snap-traps Sticky traps of various forms are evident in all species of the genus Drosera. Their traps consist of arrays of modified glandular hairs (modified trichomes, usually termed ‘tentacles’) that are spaced fairly evenly across the leaf surface (Fig. 1a). Small insects, perhaps attracted to colors, the glandular beads, or scent, become © The Authors (2009) Journal compilation © New Phytologist (2009) stuck on these hairs (Fig. 1b). Further struggles of the prey bring them into contact with more sticky hairs, making escape more difficult. In addition, Drosera hairs and leaves often actively bend toward stimulation. Leaf forms vary from small and round (Drosera rotundifolia), aimed mostly at small ground prey, to erect elongate leaves (e.g. Drosera regia and Drosera filiformis) that catch larger, more aerial prey. Larger insects often New Phytologist (2009) 183: 575–587 www.newphytologist.org 577 578 Review Research review Fig. 2 Escape rates from Drosera filiformis tracyi as a function of insect size (adapted from Gibson, 1991b). escape small sticky traps (Fig. 2). As Darwin showed, the mucilage glands respond to prey by secreting digestive enzymes. Secretions peak after a few days, and then tentacles and sessile glands absorb nutrients. Drosera rotundifolia completely digested a small mass of egg white after 50 h (Darwin, 1875). Selection may favor rapid digestion and absorption as prey nutrients could easily wash off. Sundews occupy nutrient-poor environments and fed plants are more vigorous and set more flowers and seeds (Darwin, 1875). Both nitrogen (N) and phosphorous (P) appear important in these habitats. The impressive snap-traps of Dionaea and Adrovanda act in a completely different manner (Fig. 1e,f ). They lack sticky hairs, capturing prey by quickly engulfing them. Dionaea specializes in catching single prey, an important point. Crawling ground arthropods may come across traps ‘haphazardly’, as argued by Lichtner & Williams (1977), or they may be attracted to stop and feed by ‘alluring glands’ located along the rim of the leaf (Juniper et al., 1989). These glands secrete UV-reflective substances that may attract insects or contain poisons (as observed in some carnivores; Mody et al., 1976). While some insects may feed and not be caught, prey moving about the margin of the trap are likely to trigger the trap by touching one or more of the three ‘trigger hairs’ projecting from the inner surface of each trap. If a single hair is touched twice or two separate hairs are stimulated within 1–20 s, the trap snaps closed in ∼0.3 s (Volkov et al., 2008). Speeds in nature may be even faster as ground temperatures are hotter and water potential is low. In Insectivorous Plants and The Power of Movement in Plants (Darwin, 1880), Darwin and his son Francis emerge as creative experimentalists, eager to establish which stimuli stimulate movements, structures, and secretions and curious about how they transmit information among organs. Darwin’s customary attention to detail emerges clearly in his descriptions of the sticky tentacles of sundews, the glossy curved surfaces of pitcher plants, and their remarkable secretory glands. The exact mechanism of snap-trap closure remained obscure for many years (Williams & Bennett, 1982; Hodick & Sievers, 1989) but now appears resolved (Volkov et al., 2008). Darwin hypothesized New Phytologist (2009) 183: 575–587 www.newphytologist.org Fig. 3 Relationships between insect size and trap size in Dionaea. The graph shows the average lengths and estimated biomass for insects caught on variously sized traps along with their 95% confidence intervals. Redrawn from Gibson (1991b), fig. 3. that action potentials were involved as he could paralyze a tentacle in Drosera by cutting its ‘nerve.’ He sent flytraps to the eminent physiologist Sir John Burdon-Sanderson who confirmed nerve-like rapid depolarization in Dionaea (BurdonSanderson, 1873; Williams, 1973). Although Darwin faced opposition and controversy for advancing notions (based on simple ‘country house experiments’) that plants transmit and respond to stimuli like animals (Morton, 1981; de Chadarevian, 1996), we witness here the emergence of experimental plant physiology. Teeth along the outer margin of the trap play an important role (Darwin, 1875, p. 312). After the trap closes, the marginal teeth interlock to prevent prey escape. Small prey, however, often escape larger traps (Fig. 3, Darwin, 1875; Jones, 1923). Darwin conjectured that selection would favor releasing small prey as the nutrients gained would not repay the costs of digestion. After false alarms or small prey escape, the leaf slowly opens again, resetting the trap. After the trap closes, it continues to respond to crawling movements and the presence of protein by gradually sealing shut along its rim and secreting acidic digestive enzymes (Williams, 1976; Lichtner & Williams, 1977). This ability to seal reduces prey and nutrient losses and may allow more complete digestion. Digestion takes 5–7 d and we hypothesize that the tight seal allows more complete nutrient extraction. Well-fed plants photosynthesize at higher rates, grow faster, flower more, and survive longer (Gibson, 1983). Strong veins crisscross the lobes in a ‘rip-stop’ pattern, increasing its tensile strength and its ability to resist prey escape (T. Gibson, pers. obs.). Finally, the trap reopens but remains insensitive, © The Authors (2009) Journal compilation © New Phytologist (2009) Research review Review Table 1. A comparison among characters found in Dionaea, Aldrovanda, and related members of the Droseraceae s.s.* Other Drosera spp. Drosera regia Aldrovanda Dionaea New & Old World; diverse in S. Africa and Australia Terrestrial Flypaper-trap Old World: S. Africa New World: SE USA Terrestrial Flypaper-trap Glands adaxial glands; stalked, vascular adaxial glands; stalked, vascular Stamens Pollen tetrads 5 Mostly with radial plates Multi-aperturate Yes pores opposite at tetrad connection Separate, mostly divided Parietal Small, dust-like with thin, reticulate exotesta 2n = 20, 30, 32, 40, 60, 80 (small) 5 Without radial plates Old World: Disjunct in Europe, Africa, SE Asia, and Australia Aquatic Snap-trap with ~20 trigger hairs/leaf lobe adaxial glands and quadrifid glands/hairs; sessile, nonvascular 5 Without radial plates Terrestrial Snap-trap with 3 trigger hairs/leaf lobe adaxial glands and abaxial stellate glands; sessile, nonvascular 15 Without radial plates Multi-aperturate Yes opposite Triaperturate Yes opposite Multi-aperturate No alternate Separate, undivided Separate, undivided United Parietal Small, dust-like with thin, reticulate exotesta Parietal Large, with smooth, thickened exotesta and endotesta 2n = 48 (medium) Basal Large, with smooth, thickened, exotesta Distribution Habit Trapping mechanism Grains Spinose? Pollen apertures Styles Placentation Seed Chromosome # 2n = 34 (small) 2n = 32 (small) *Note several common traits between Drosera regia and the two snap-trap species. These include the pollen apertures which are operculate, mostly with channel openings in most other Drosera species whereas Drosera regia, Aldrovanda, and Dionaea all have apertures that are not operculate and lack channel openings. After Cameron et al. 2002. allowing the remains to dry and blow away before traps reset (Barthlott et al., 2007). Traps function two or three times before becoming defunct. Traps vary in size and position through the seasons, with petioles becoming longer and more vertical in summer, then short and prostrate in winter. Petioles are broader in the spring, expanding near the trap as a photosynthetic surface. With shade, petioles become larger and traps become smaller (Roberts & Oosting, 1958). Knowing which prey Dionaea captures helps us understand how traps evolved. Carnivorous plants with traps on the ground generally capture ground prey, whereas taller traps capture more flying insects (Gibson, 1983). Dionaea appears specialized for taking large ground crawling prey (Dean, 1892; Grigg, 1935). Lichtner & Williams (1977) found 33% ants, 30% spiders, 10% beetles, and 10% grasshoppers with fewer than 5% flying insects. Recent studies report a similar distribution: 31% spiders, 26% ants and 12% beetles (Hutchens et al., 2007; Hutchens & Lukens, unpublished). By contrast, sundews usually catch flying insects although ground traps tend to capture ground prey (Verbeek & Boasson, 1993). As Darwin surmised, larger flytraps generally capture larger prey (Fig. 3, Gibson, 1991b; Hutchens & Lukens, unpublished). Larger traps also capture prey of a broader range of sizes than © The Authors (2009) Journal compilation © New Phytologist (2009) small traps, with occasional very large prey. In summary, the nectar glands, spaced teeth, rapid closing, crosshatched veins, and eventual sealing of traps all adapt Dionaea to selectively capture, retain, and digest larger prey than those caught by most Drosera. Steps to a snap-trap ‘The folding of the blade of the leaf itself around the fly is a new fact to us, and is especially interesting, being a step toward Dionaea’ Mrs Treat (1871, p. 463) describing Drosera rotundifolia Dionaea and its close relative Aldrovanda evolved as monotypic sister genera from a sundew-like ancestor (Williams et al., 1994; Cameron, 2002; Rivadavia et al., 2003). These genera share many traits with each other and with Drosera, including similar flower and pollen forms (Table 1; see Cameron et al., 2002 for further discussion). How did snap-traps evolve from a simple sticky trap? What selected for rapid closure, larger leaves, and a bigger rosette? Why did this remarkable innovation only evolve once? The particular transitions included (Barthlott et al., 2007): 1. modification of responses to prey, including directed movements of tentacles and leaves to increase adhesion and engulf prey; New Phytologist (2009) 183: 575–587 www.newphytologist.org 579 580 Review Research review Fig. 4 Scenario for the evolution of snap-traps from Drosera. (a) Basic evolutionary transitions of the leaf as currently understood. (b) Transition from marginal trichomes in Drosera to marginal teeth in Dionaea. Adapted from Juniper et al. (1989, their fig. 19). 2. acceleration of the rapidity with which prey are detected and the message is transmitted; 3. evolution of structures to quickly close the trap and engulf prey; 4. tuning of these responses to only respond to real and suitable prey; 5. modification of the structure of marginal tentacles to create longer and more widely spaced marginal teeth to retain prey; 6. modification of other tentacles to act as ‘trigger’ sensory hairs; 7. loss of sticky glands from these tentacles and evolution of recessed digestive glands. While the exact timing and sequence of these steps remain uncertain, there can be no doubt that such transitions occurred in the lineage leading to Aldrovanda and Dionaea. Our goal here is to explore the ecological forces that acted on a stickytrap ancestor to favor these transitions. We are less concerned with (and qualified to discuss) the remarkable physiological mechanisms that these traps display. Our inferences are based on logic, existing structures in related species, a simple model, and empirical data from contemporary studies. As we lack fossil intermediate forms, we consider this scenario a series of hypotheses to test. Following Mrs Treat, others have made conjectures on how snap-traps evolved. Williams (1976) carried out fundamental work on the mechanisms and evolution of sensory physiology in Droseraceae, including how a flytrap’s teeth and trigger hairs lost mucilage in evolving from Drosera tentacles. Snyder (1985) New Phytologist (2009) 183: 575–587 www.newphytologist.org outlined how sticky traps in Drosera could have evolved into a Dionaea trap by tentacles either losing their stalks to become sessile digestive glands or becoming trigger hairs or marginal teeth. Givnish (1989) has argued that sticky traps become less effective in rainy and wet environments, favoring snap-traps. Degreef (1988) goes further to argue that carnivory began as an aquatic adaptation to capture detritus in an Aldrovandalike ancestor which subsequently evolved into the snap-trap of terrestrial Dionaea and the sticky traps of Drosera. However, this appears untenable given recent molecular evidence. Juniper et al. (1989; see Fig. 4) outlined explicit steps from Drosophyllum to Dionaea, postulating a loss of tentacles (as in Drosera erythrorhiza) with marginal tentacles retained as teeth and trigger hairs. Eventually, the ‘alluring glands’ evolved with UV-reflective secretions. Several selective forces may have favored snap-traps, including capturing prey more quickly, capturing larger prey, and selection to make digestion and nutrient assimilation more efficient and complete. More rapidly closing traps effectively prevent escape. Larger prey bring higher rewards. Traps that contain and process prey more quickly lose fewer nutrients to wind, water, and microbial decomposition. All these forces were probably important and interrelate. We focus our discussion here on selection for larger prey. Interesting alternatives to snap-traps exist within the Droseraceae. As already noted, tentacles in Drosera are often active, bending toward stimuli. Leaves also tend to curl around prey © The Authors (2009) Journal compilation © New Phytologist (2009) Research review in response to signals from the tentacles. In Drosera regia (Fig. 1c) and Drosera capensis, leaves wrap entirely around prey in as little as 30 min (Juniper et al., 1989). These traits serve to limit prey escape (and kleptoparasitism) and perhaps aid digestion. Sensitive tentacles are also an essential ‘pre-adaptation’ for (and homolog of ) the trigger hairs in Aldrovanda and Dionaea. We also see signs of structural divergence and differentiation in several Drosera species (e.g. Drosera binata, Drosera scorpioides, and Drosera indica) where marginal tentacles are elongate, extending their ‘reach’ for insect capture. Richard Davion discovered another relevant adaptation in Australian Drosera in the late 1970s as a 9-yr-old. He noted that the marginal tentacles in Drosera glanduligera lack glue but respond sensitively to touch by rapidly snapping in to fling small insects onto the short sticky tentacles there (see video at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zNAqwgPyPX4). The Hartmeyers (Hartmeyer & Hartmeyer, 2006, 2008) investigated this phenomenon in detail, confirmed Davion’s discovery, identified the sensitive area at the tip of the tentacle, and documented variation in the structure and speed of these ‘snaptentacles’ among several species including Drosera burmanii, Drosera sessilifolia, Drosera ericksoniae, and Drosera pulchella (Fig. 1d). The bisymmetric ‘snap-tentacles’ on D. glanduligera and D. burmanii are discretely jointed, resembling the hinged trigger hair in Dionaea. Snap-tentacles on D. glanduligera act ∼100 times more quickly than those on related species (0.15 vs 5–15 s). Thus, the morphological diversity, action, speed and sensory mechanisms of snap-traps are all matched in Drosera. Furthermore, snap-tentacles seem adapted to capture ground prey in that six species with ground rosettes in Section Lamprolepis support snap-tentacles whereas four close relatives with aerial leaves all lack them (as expected if sticky traps work better to capture aerial prey; Hartmeyer & Hartmeyer, 2006). Interestingly, snap-tentacles in D. glanduligera only develop after three to four leaf generations, suggesting an advantage that depends on leaf size. Further transitions include the evolution of glandular tentacles into nonglandular teeth, trigger hairs, and the depressed digestive glands we see in Dionaea. Interestingly, the glandular tentacles in several Drosera become shorter on mid-leaves. Shorter tentacles could provide stronger adhesion, better absorption, or less breakage from struggling prey. Selection for shorter and fewer stalked glands would also allow leaves to close more completely. As tentacles lost their primary role in entangling prey as closure accelerated, they would be free to diversify in morphology and function. Costly stalked glandular tentacles would also be counter-selected, favoring their evolution into the recessed digestive glands we see in Dionaea (Barthlott et al., 2007). The longer leaves we see in some Drosera may thus be adaptations to capture not just more prey, but also larger prey. Simple sticky traps efficiently capture small prey but large prey are usually stronger, allowing them to escape from, or damage, sticky traps (Fig. 3; Gibson, 1991b). The higher potential rewards © The Authors (2009) Journal compilation © New Phytologist (2009) Review Fig. 5 Hypothetical rates of nutrient capture from a sticky trap (as in Drosera) and from a snap-trap (as in Dionaea) as a function of arthropod prey size. Sticky traps have the capacity to trap many small prey efficiently but suffer increasing rates of escape of larger prey, leading to declines in rates of nutrient capture with increasing insect size. The higher rewards associated with individual larger prey can favor mechanisms such as snap-tentacles in Drosera and snap-traps in Aldrovanda and Dionaea that efficiently capture and retain larger prey. These returns, however, are less predictable and plateau, as larger insects are rare. from capturing larger prey provide strong selection favoring traps capable of capturing them. Stronger and longer sticky tentacles and leaves in Drosera can enfold larger prey, but these move slowly. Snap-tentacles quickly flick small insects into a sticky trap, but appear less effective at capturing larger insects. Snap-traps combine speed with the ability to immobilize larger prey. They could thus bring higher rewards (Fig. 5), particularly if they effectively seal in nutrients. Modeling the steps Carnivory exists commonly in species occupying wet, open habitats where sunlight and water are abundant but nutrients are scarce (Givnish et al., 1984; Ellison, 2006). Givnish et al.’s (1984) heuristic cost–benefit model explains the evolution of carnivory in such environments. In their model, carnivory’s benefits derive from increased nutrient acquisition, allowing plants in nutrient-stressed environments to grow more quickly. To accrue these benefits, carnivorous plants construct costly traps with specialized structures and physiology with correspondingly diminished capacities for maximizing photosynthesis (Ellison & Gotelli, 2009). The model reasonably and intuitively assumes that costs increase linearly with increased investments in carnivory but that benefits plateau beyond a certain level of investment as traps interfere with one another, local prey are depleted, and/or additional nutrients are of less use to the plant. These diminishing returns favor an optimal level of investment in carnivory that increases in more nutrientstressed environments or when prey capture and digestion become more efficient. New Phytologist (2009) 183: 575–587 www.newphytologist.org 581 582 Review Research review The Givnish et al. (1984) qualitative model helps to explain the general circumstances favoring carnivory but makes no specific predictions regarding the type of trap favored or its form and selectivity. We therefore extend the model to incorporate details regarding two modes of capture (sticky traps vs snap-traps) and to explore how nutrient returns scale with the availability of differently sized prey and their escape rates. Like them, we assume that costs for carnivory increase in proportion to the number and size of traps produced. For sticky traps, costs also increase in proportion to the number of tentacles and the investment per tentacle in structures, glands, and secretions. By contrast, the benefits derived from producing more traps (or more tentacles and sticky structures) clearly plateau once they reach a number, size and density sufficient to capture common prey. More or stickier tentacles and leaves beyond some optimum would not increase prey capture appreciably as local prey were depleted and these structures came to compete and interfere with each other, reducing returns per trap. Selection for more, stronger, and stickier tentacles to capture larger prey would also be limited as such prey are scarce and more likely to damage leaves and tentacles. So we expect Drosera to evolve gracile sticky tentacles dispersed across and among spreading leaves in an array efficiently designed to capture many small prey, as observed in Drosera (Fig. 1). Despite their efficiency at capturing small prey, sticky traps are ineffective at capturing larger prey with abrupt cut-offs at 11–12 mm in Drosera filiformis tracyi (Fig. 2) and 3–4 mm in Pinguicula nevadense (Zamora, 1990). By contrast, Zamora’s artificial mimic trap caught prey of up to 20 mm, demonstrating that larger prey were available. For snap-traps, we expect the returns gained via carnivory to be proportional to prey biomass. That is, we assume that prey have similar nutrient stochiometry and that traps process prey of different sizes and types with similar efficiency. Nutrient levels actually vary among taxonomic groups and arthropods of different size, with carnivorous arthropods having more N than herbivores, and %N increasing with body size among carnivores (Fagan et al., 2002). This strengthens the predictions of our size-selective model. By contrast, %P differs little with trophic status, declines with size, and is higher in arachnids among Sonoran arthropods (Woods et al., 2004). However, these declines in P amount to only 18% over insects ranging from 50 to 500 mg in size and so we ignore them. We know of no data on how efficiently traps capture nutrients from differently sized insects or from surface sticky traps vs enclosed snap-traps. Such results would be of great interest. We expect small prey to be far more abundant than larger prey on general grounds, but data on the size distributions of potential prey are scarce. The sample in Fig. 6(a) is based on 92 insects caught at a light trap near a bog in Florida (T. Gibson, unpublished data). As expected, prey biomass scales as a high power of prey length (2.65 in Fig. 6a). We can therefore estimate the total biomass of potential prey as the product of the number of prey available at each size times the biomass New Phytologist (2009) 183: 575–587 www.newphytologist.org Fig. 6 How do rewards from carnivory scale with prey size? This will depend on the spectrum of available prey sizes and their biomass. (a) Empirical abundances of variously sized prey and their associated nutrient value (biomass) plotted as a function of prey size (length in mm). Curves are fitted from field data derived from 92 insects caught at a light trap by T. Gibson at a Holt, Florida bog in July 1975 (omitting mayflies and dragonflies). Prey length was log normally distributed (mean 2.1996; SD 0.9578). The biomass of these potential prey was a power function of length: log biomass (mg) = −1.197 + 2.6463 × log length (mm); r2 = 0.945. (b) Available prey biomass estimated as the product of prey abundance and prey biomass (curves shown in a) as a function of prey length. This curve approximates the total potential return in nutrients available to Drosera and Dionaea in a natural habitat. associated with that size (Fig. 6b). Interestingly, this prey availability curve shows a peak at a prey length of c. 20 mm, with only a gradual decline beyond. Including the larger prey that this sample omitted, or sampling ground arthropods that probably include more large prey, would accentuate returns from larger prey. Note that the estimated peak in available biomass occurs at a prey size appreciably larger than those caught by small Drosera (e.g. D. filiformis tracyi; Fig. 2). We hypothesize that selection to capture larger prey favored several traits, including rapid physiological and mechanical responses, elongate marginal tentacles, shorter central tentacles, © The Authors (2009) Journal compilation © New Phytologist (2009) Research review (a) Review (c) Prey length (mm) (b) Prey length (mm) (d) Prey length (mm) Prey length (mm) Fig. 7 Estimated rates of prey capture and consequent nutrient return for sticky traps (a, b) and snap-traps (c, d) as functions of prey size. Rates of capture for sticky traps in (a) are based on the field data for Drosera filliformis traycii reported by Gibson (1991b; the complement of the escape rates shown in Fig. 2). Rates of capture for snap-traps as envisioned for Dionaea are assumed in graphs (c) and (d) to be normally distributed around mean prey lengths of 5, 10, and 15 mm with standard deviations equal to the means. Rates of return in (b) and (d) are then taken to be the product of the measured or assumed capture curves and the biomass of arthropods available at various sizes (see Fig. 6). Note the greater absolute returns to snap-traps relative to sticky traps as well as the initially sharply increasing returns as a function of trap and prey size. tentacles lacking glandular secretions, and leaf folding along a mid-rib. All these traits serve both to retain larger prey within sticky traps and as pre-adaptations to evolve snap-traps. Larger insects and spiders tend to also be faster and stronger, reducing the effectiveness of sticky traps. By contrast, snap-traps are similarly efficient at capturing prey of all sizes up to a maximum proportional to their size (Fig. 3). However, the high cost of building, tripping, and resetting elaborate snap-traps makes them inefficient for capturing small prey (Fig. 5). As Darwin conjectured, this would favor mechanisms to allow small prey to escape, including tuning of the sensitivity of trigger hairs, spaced marginal teeth proportional to trap size, and only closing part way initially. Both prey size and its variation scale with trap size in Dionaea (Fig. 3). These data allow us to estimate the distribution of prey sizes for traps of increasing size (Fig. 7c). If we multiply these curves by the biomass returns associated with these prey sizes (the data shown in Fig. 6a), we can estimate the nutrient © The Authors (2009) Journal compilation © New Phytologist (2009) returns accruing to traps capturing prey of various sizes (Fig. 7d). This simple model and the data available (which probably under-sampled larger prey) strongly support the idea that traps are under selection to capture large prey, particularly for prey 5–10 mm in length. Steep increases in biomass as prey increase in length favor the capture of larger insects, including exceptionally large but rare prey (the right tails in Fig. 7c). Snap-traps thus have the opportunity to gain occasional ‘sweepstakes’ rewards from large prey that would inevitably escape sticky traps. Furthermore, traps across a broad range of sizes face similarly steep increasing returns for taking larger prey, as shown by the parallel leading edges of the curves in Fig. 7(d). Sticky-trap Drosera thus appear to be caught in an evolutionary dilemma. Their traps efficiently capture small prey (Fig. 7a) with consequent modest returns (Fig. 7b). The steeply increasing biomass returns from capturing larger prey provide strong selection to capture larger prey, but such prey are rare, New Phytologist (2009) 183: 575–587 www.newphytologist.org 583 584 Review Research review unpredictable, and dangerous to them. However, snap-traps have the potential, even at slower speeds, to prevent the escape of larger prey slowed by a sticky-trap and to seal in nutrients from large prey that would take longer to digest. Once this process began, the high returns from larger prey would have favored mutants with larger, faster, and more efficient traps. The nutrients accruing to such plants would allow them to grow more quickly and construct larger rosettes with more traps and flowers, important adaptations in their ephemeral fire-dominated habitats. Evidence supporting the model We envision a small sundew ancestor (the size of D. burmanii) evolving first into a plant with small traps and then into a plant able to produce larger traps. The initial transition to snaptraps may have occurred rapidly, possibly in a small population, as supported by the high rates of gene substitution seen in Aldrovanda and Dionaea (Ellison & Gotelli, 2009). This transition probably occurred in a terrestrial ancestor of Aldrovanda and Dionaea able to resist intermittent flooding (as Dionaea does), with Aldrovanda subsequently evolving its aquatic habit. We hypothesize that snap-traps evolved to efficiently capture, immobilize, and digest larger prey. However, the complex transformations involved in evolving snap-traps, their particular habitat requirements, and the existence of alternative means to capture larger insects (including pitfall pitcher-like traps, elongate sticky traps, and snap tentacles) together made this a rare event. We have abundant evidence confirming Darwin’s conclusion that growth, flowering, and survival in carnivorous plants all depend strongly on the nutrients provided by captured prey (Gibson, 1983; Adamec, 1997; Ellison, 2006). Darwin (1875, p. 301) cites an experiment where a fed plant grew much more ‘luxuriantly in its growth than others not so treated.’ Experiments in Aldrovanda (Kaminski, 1987; Adamec, 2000) confirm that mutants capturing greater insect biomass have higher fitness. Although additional feeding experiments demonstrating positive effects exist for Dionaea (e.g. Roberts & Oosting, 1958), these were not performed in the field. Field studies are critical, as laboratory feeding experiments rarely replicate native field soil and light conditions. We should also apply a full set of treatments (e.g. feeding, starvation, and open to field feeding) to seedlings lacking reserves and carry out experiments for long enough to obtain reliable results. Our model focuses on the size distributions of prey in sundews relative to flytraps across traps of various size. We assume that a short terrestrial sundew caught small prey, similar to other Drosera (Fig. 2). By contrast, Dionaea routinely catches larger (10–16 mm) prey (Fig. 3). Empirical distributions of potential prey size and their biomass in a Florida bog (Fig. 6a) support the notion that biomass returns from arthropod prey are a steeply increasing function of prey size up to 20 mm in length and that potential returns beyond that size decline New Phytologist (2009) 183: 575–587 www.newphytologist.org slowly (Fig. 6b). The model becomes stronger if potential ground prey include more large insects than this aerial sample. Hutchens & Luken (unpublished) recently reported distributions of prey and trap sizes in Dionaea. They found a roughly normal distribution of trap sizes averaging 10–15 mm but ranging up to 30 mm. Prey length correlated with trap length (R2 = 0.24, P < 0.001), as expected, and variously sized traps had similar capture rates (23–24%). They interpret the correlation as low and note that many traps remained unsprung, leading them to conclude that Dionaea does not selectively favor larger prey. However, a summer drought prevented them from sampling summer prey, which include large grasshoppers. If we convert their prey length data to biomass using the empirical equation in Fig. 6, we see that potential prey biomass increases strongly with increasing prey size (Fig. 8a). Of course, many traps are empty, but if we smooth these biomass data and Fig. 8 Empirical returns to Dionaea traps from insects of increasing size. Data are computed from the lengths of insects caught in Dionaea traps in winter, spring, and autumn of 2006 (Hutchens & Lukens, unpublished) using the empirical length–biomass relationship shown in Fig. 6. (a) Linear fit showing the total biomass return from insects caught as a function of insect length, excluding zeros (return (mg) = 24.873 + 10.271 × length (mm); r2 = 0.67). (b) Smoothing spline fit (λ = 676) to a smoothed set of the data shown in (a) but including zeros. Smoothing function is: 0.25 × Xi–2 + 0.5 × X i–1 + Xi + 0.5 × X i+1 + 0.25 × X i+2. © The Authors (2009) Journal compilation © New Phytologist (2009) Research review include zeros (still omitting summer prey), we still see at least steady returns with increasing prey size (Fig. 8b). These results reinforce the conclusion that Dionaea traps suffer no reduction in overall return as prey size increases and gain the potential to win very high rewards. A final line of evidence supporting the model comes from developmental patterns in plant and trap size. Larger Dionaea plants always produce larger leaves and traps (with ontogeny perhaps recapitulating phylogeny). However, in almost all other plants, the number of leaves and other organs increases in proportion to overall plant size, while the size of specific organs usually increases little or not at all. Instead, in Dionaea, trap sizes increase markedly as plants grow larger, yet the number of leaves (= traps) per plant remains steady or even declines. Hutchens & Luken (unpublished) report 6.7–7.4 traps per plant across three classes of increasing trap size. Roberts & Oosting (1958, p. 202) found mature plants to actually have fewer (4– 8) traps than immature plants (10–16). Although well-fed plants can produce more leaves, it is still striking, given general allometric patterns of growth across the plant kingdom, that Dionaea’s growth pattern would deviate so strongly from that of Drosera, which always has more leaves when mature. Again, we find strong evidence that selection has acted strongly to favor larger traps. Small traps on small plants appear specialized for capturing smaller prey, particularly ants, whereas larger traps often catch spiders and beetles (Hutchens & Lukens, unpublished). Smaller prey probably provide a steady if modest supply of nutrients of particular importance for small plants. Dionaea can grow quickly if nourished, allowing it to construct larger traps to capture larger prey with much higher nutrient returns. Williams (1980) found six of 201 traps closing in 24 h in late June, corresponding to a rate of 0.03 closures per day. At this rate, we expect Dionaea snap-traps to wait a median time of 23.2 d between meals. The growing rewards accruing to snap-traps of increasing size could then support growth, flowering and fruiting, which would be of particular value in Dionaea’s ephemeral habitat. Needed data and tests To understand the costs of carnivory, we should seek to quantify the higher energetic construction and maintenance costs of different kinds of trap (Ellison & Gotelli, 2009) and how these scale with trap size. Traps that replace leaves also incur an opportunity cost of lost photosynthetic capacity. We expect this to be low in the high-light environments but we should test this assumption. We might also try to measure how construction and opportunity costs vary between sunnier and shadier environments and seasonally. We might also seek to better understand the role of particular structures and secretions by estimating their costs. Mutants lacking sticky tentacles or secretions would be particularly useful here, but genetic variation for these quantitative traits could also be exploited. How much energy do the secretory glands along the rim of Dionaea traps © The Authors (2009) Journal compilation © New Phytologist (2009) Review represent? What do these secretions contain and how effective are they at attracting and distracting prey? Do they contain narcotics (cf Mody et al., 1976)? What digestive enzymes are secreted by the depressed digestive glands, and how does their quantity respond to the presence of prey of various size? Do larger insects take longer to digest? Are they digested less completely? While prey nutrients clearly enhance the growth of carnivorous plants in nutrient-poor habitats, we should also further explore these benefits of carnivory. Do the closed traps of Dionaea allow digestion to proceed more rapidly or more completely than digestion in the open traps of Drosera? How are the absorbed nutrients deployed tactically within the plant? How much do they benefit growth, survival, and reproduction through the season in plants of various size? Do their benefits vary with light and nutrient availability? Carefully controlled field experiments involving feeding, starvation, and ambient prey treatments across a range of habitats and plant sizes would be most informative. An ideal experiment might collect data on the rates of prey capture and escape as a function of both prey and trap size in various kinds of trap in the same environment over several seasons to test their relative efficiency varies under varying conditions, then link these observations to plant demography to understand how they affect subsequent growth, survival, and reproduction. No one has yet tested Darwin’s conjecture regarding the value of letting small prey escape. This could be done via simple experiments involving prey and traps of various size including treatments to remove the marginal teeth. We should also compare how effective various kinds of trap are in catching prey of various size. How does the success rate of snap-tentacles depend on prey and leaf size? How do the mean and variance of prey size scale with the size of leaves in round vs elongate leaved vs snap-tentacle sundews? Is Dionaea better adapted to capture ground-based insects than nearby competing Drosera species? Are ground prey generally larger than the aerial prey? Also, do Dionaea’s vertical summer traps capture more of these flying insects? Our main conjecture here was that snap-traps capture large prey more efficiently than sticky traps. To test this, we need additional data on how capture rates and size distributions of prey vary among sticky traps and snap-traps of varying size. Such measurements would allow us to calculate the mean and variance of prey returns for traps of various size directly rather than depending on the indirect calculations presented. Our model predicts that prey capture should increase more rapidly with increasing trap size in snap-traps than sticky traps and that these returns should extend to larger sizes. How important are a few large prey in determining a trap’s total return? What are the upper limits to capture? Are they set by the capacity of the trap to engulf prey or by prey strength? What sticky forces does it take to retain insects of various size? How does insect strength scale with size? Are the cross veins in flytrap lobes effective in retaining larger prey? New Phytologist (2009) 183: 575–587 www.newphytologist.org 585 586 Review Research review Finally, to infer general evolutionary forces, we should study additional species and habitats. How do the returns from carnivory vary across traps of varying size, shape, and orientation? Do carnivorous plants compete with each other in the field? How do landscape structure and connectivity interact with fires and floods to affect meta-population structure and dynamics in these disturbance-dependent species? Monitoring patterns of genetic variation within and among populations would complement such efforts and allow us to assess whether remaining populations remain knit together via gene flow. Our understanding of carnivorous plants has significantly advanced since Darwin carried out his experiments more than a century ago. We now know far more about their physiology, morphology, biogeography, and phylogenetic relationships. Nevertheless, significant gaps remain, particularly in terms of field data on rates of prey capture and the size specificity of capture and escape. Such data are vital if we are to understand the benefits of carnivory and how these favor particular structures and patterns of allocation. These gaps are all the more puzzling given the excellent examples we have in Darwin’s own work of the power of simple observations and experiments with carnivorous plants and Zamora’s (1990) plea almost 20 yr ago that prey size in relation to adhesion should become ‘a prime object for study’. Acknowledgements J. Hutchens and J. Luken kindly shared their paper and data on prey and trap sizes in advance of publication. S. 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