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Title: The honey-bee; its nature, homes and products
Author: Harris, William Hetherington
Language: English
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HOMES AND PRODUCTS ***
Transcriber Note
Text emphasis denoted as _Italics_. Whole and fractional parts of
numbers as 123-4/5. The ERRATA and ADDENDA (p. xvii) have been applied.
THE HONEY-BEE:
ITS NATURE, HOMES, AND PRODUCTS.
[Illustration: Comb, Showing Different Kinds of Cells.]
THE HONEY-BEE
ITS NATURE, HOMES, AND PRODUCTS.
BY
W. H. HARRIS, B.A., B.Sc.
LONDON:
THE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY,
56, Paternoster Row; 65, St. Paul's Churchyard,
and 164, Piccadilly.
LONDON:
R. Clay, Sons, and Taylor, Printers,
BREAD STREET HILL.
CONTENTS.
PAGES
INTRODUCTION.
1-3
CHAPTER I.
HISTORIC SKETCH.
Holy Scriptures--Vedas--Egyptian Monuments--The Koran--
Etymological Considerations--Literature of Subject--
Aristotle--Philiscus--Pliny--Vergil--Columella--Other
Classical Authors--Shakespeare--Modern Writers.
4-9
CHAPTER II.
NATURAL HISTORY.
Orders of Insects--Stages of Development--Egg, Larva, Pupa,
Imago or Perfect Insect--Three Classes of Bees: Queen,
Drones, Workers.
10-16
CHAPTER III.
THE QUEEN-BEE.
Early Errors as to Sex--The "Mother Bee"--Distinguishing
Characteristics--Functions--Attentions paid her--Effects
of Loss; how Repaired by Bees--Enmity to Rivals--Length of
Life--Egg-laying.
17-28
CHAPTER IV.
THE DRONES.
Distinguishing Characteristics--Time of Hatching--Numbers--
Purposes served by them--Destruction by Workers or other
means--Unusual Survival.
29-34
CHAPTER V.
THE WORKERS.
Distinguishing Characteristics--Supposed Differences of
Function among them--Sir John Lubbock's Experiments--
Fertile Workers--Length of Life--"Black Bees"--Duties
of Workers.
35-43
CHAPTER VI.
HONEY.
Origin--How Collected and Stored--Constitution--Poisonous
Honey--Best varieties of Honey--Distances traversed by
Bees in search of Honey--Uses
44-48
CHAPTER VII.
MEAD.
Nature--Method of Manufacture--Metheglin and Mead--Estimation
in former times--Queen Elizabeth's Recipe--Scandinavian
liking for Mead.
49-52
CHAPTER VIII.
WAX.
Origin--Production--Chemical Constitution--Comb-Building--
Detailed Description--Amount of Wax in Hives--Commercial
Value--Properties.
53-71
CHAPTER IX.
POLLEN, OR BEE-BREAD.
Origin--Collection--Conveyance--Deposition--Quantity
Stored--Uses--Artificial Substitutes.
72-75
CHAPTER X.
PROPOLIS.
Derivation of Word--Sources--Nature--Purposes--Quantity
Collected--Adaptation of Materials to Wants of Bees.
76-79
CHAPTER XI.
PHYSIOLOGY OF THE BEE.
Nervous System--The Head--Eyes--Compound and Simple--Uses
and Powers--Sir John Lubbock's Experiments--The Antennæ
--Structure and Uses--Mouth--Detailed Description.
80-100
CHAPTER XII.
HEARING, TASTE, AND SMELLING.
Hearing--Sir John Lubbock's Experiments--Sounds uttered by
Queen--Effects produced by them--Smell-Organs--Purposes
--Liking for, and Antipathy to, certain Effluvia--
Discovery by Bees of Nectar and Honey
101-108
CHAPTER XIII.
THE THORAX.
Detailed Description--Legs--Wings--How used in Flight--
Hooking together--Employed for Ventilating.
109-114
CHAPTER XIV.
THE ABDOMEN.
Respiratory Organs--Circulation of Nutritive Fluid--
Digestion and Nutrition--Secretion of Wax--Reproductive
Organs--Detailed description of Sting--Effects of
Poison--Queen's Sting.
115-128
CHAPTER XV.
THE DISEASES OF BEES.
Dysentery: How Produced--Indications--Treatment.
Foul-Brood: two kinds--Nature--Propagation. Mr.
Cheshire's Discoveries and Treatment--Fatal Effects of
Disease--Detection--Vertigo--Analogy of Human and Bee
Diseases.
129-138
CHAPTER XVI.
THE ENEMIES OF BEES.
Birds--Mice--Moths--_Braula cœca_--Hornets and Wasps--
Spiders--Toads--"Robber Bees"--Prevention of robbing.
139-147
CHAPTER XVII.
HIVES.
Natural Abodes of Wild Bees--Taking Honey from Roof of
House--Straw Skeps--Cottager's Hive--Supering--Nutt's
Collateral Hive--Village Hive--Woodbury Hive--
Abbott's Hives--Sectional Supering--Stewarton Hive--
Carr-Stewarton Hive--Observatory Hives--Bee-houses.
148-170
CHAPTER XVIII.
NATURAL SWARMING.
General Facts connected with Swarming--Reconnoitring--
Settling--Hiving--Curious Incidents--Transferring
Swarms to Bar-Frame Hives--Division of Swarms--Placing
Swarm in Permanent Position-Number of Bees in Swarming
--"Casts" and Later Swarms--Prevention of Swarming--
Feeding of Swarms.
171-186
CHAPTER XIX.
ARTIFICIAL SWARMING.
Advantages--Driving: Close and Open--Transfer to
Bar-Frame Hive--Conditions of Successful Driving--
Various Methods of Artificial Swarming with
Bar-Frame Hives.
187-195
CHAPTER XX.
QUEEN REARING.
Protection of Queen-cells--Nucleus Hives--Various Methods
of Queen Rearing--American Plan--Introduction of
Stranger Queens--Difficulties.
196-200
CHAPTER XXI.
FEEDING.
Troughs--Dangers of this Method--Bottle Feeders--Cheshire's
Feeding Stage--Neighbour's Can Feeder--The "Round Feeder"
--Autumn Feeding--Spring Feeding--Uses of Precautions--
Summer Feeding of Swarms--Flour-cake--Barley-sugar or
Sugar-cake--Mr. Hunter's Recipe.
201-213
CHAPTER XXII.
WINTERING BEES.
False and True Hybernation--Temperature of Hive in
Winter--Necessity for Quiet during Winter--Structure and
Winter-packing of Bar-Frame Hives--Prevention of Draught
and Condensation of Vapour--Supply of Water.
214-220
CHAPTER XXIII.
BEE-STINGS.
Gentleness necessary in Manipulation--Causes of Irritation
of Bees--Examination of Stocks--Treatment of Stings--
Remedies--Effects of Stings--Inoculation--Bee Dress--
Smoke and its Uses.
221-228
CHAPTER XXIV.
PASSIONS AND EMOTIONS OF BEES.
Affection for Queen and Brood--Recognition of Friends and
Strangers--Fear--Anger--Covetousness--Benevolence--
Remorse--Hope--Instinctive or Sense-action.
229-233
CHAPTER XXV.
INTELLECT AND INSTINCT IN BEES.
Intellect in Man and Animals as Related to Immortality--
Memory--Judgment--Instances of Attention--Prevision--
Provision--Instinct--Manifestations--Bearing on
Evolution.
234-243
CHAPTER XXVI.
BEES IN RELATION TO FLOWERS.
Connection of Plant-life and Insect-life--Reproduction of
Flowers--Intervention of Insects--Hermaphrodite Flowers
--Cross-fertilisation--Cucumbers, Melons, &c.--Poplars
--Firs--Epilobium or Willow Herb--Cincerarias--Darwin's
Experiments--Nasturtium--Foxglove--Figwort--Salvia--
Heath--Strawberry, Raspberry, and Blackberry--Apple and
Pear--Altruism of Bees.
244-258
CHAPTER XXVII.
SUPERSTITIONS CONNECTED WITH BEES.
Superstitions likely to gather around Bees--Unlucky to Buy
Bees--Ill Omen for a Swarm to Settle on a Dry Stick--
"Have the Bees been told?"--Turning Hives on the Death
of the Owner--Probable Origin of these Errors.
259-267
CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE PROFITS OF BEE-KEEPING.
Methods of Honey-taking--Straw Caps--Bell-Glasses--
Sections--Frames--Extractors--Run Honey--Average
Returns of Hives.
268-272
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
Fig. PAGE
Comb, Showing Different Kinds of Cells _Frontispiece_
1. Eggs and Larva of Bees 12
2. Larvæ 13
3. Sealed Cells 14
4. _a_, Larva full grown, viewed sideways,
_b_, Larva preparing for Pupa state 15
5. Worker Larva and Pupa in Comb 16
6. The Queen of the Hive 19
7. Queen Surrounded by Attendants 20
8. A Drone 29
9. A Worker Bee 35
10. A Worker Bee, showing the Scales of Wax 53
11. Festoons of Bees Suspended from the Roof of the Hive 55
12. Cluster of Bees 58
13. Wax-Worker commencing a Comb 59
14. Diagram of Cells 63
15. Supposed Circular Cells 63
16. Arrangement of Cells 64
17. Diagram showing Slope of Cells 66
18. Arrangement of Combs in a Bell-Glass 68
19. The Queen Cell 69
20. Queen Cells in situ 70
21. Hind-leg of a Bee 73
22. Nervous System of Privet Hawk Moth 81
23. Nervous System of Larva of Bee 82
24. Nervous System of Perfect Insect 83
25. Eyes of a Bee (greatly magnified) 85
26. Facets of Eye of a Bee 86
27. Head of Bee, With Antennæ 98
28. Lower Segments of Hind-leg of Bee, considerably enlarged 110
29. Complete Hind-leg of Bee 110
30. Wing of Bee 112
31. Hooklets of a Bee's Wing 113
32. Abdomen of Bee, showing Respiratory Organs 116
33. Air-sacs of Worker 117
34. _a_, Air-sacs; _b_, Ovaries, of the Queen 118
35. _a_, Tracheæ; _b_, Elastic Spiral of Tracheæ 119
36. Under Side of Abdomen, showing Wax Scales 121
37. Bee, showing the Wax Scales 121
38. Scales 121
39. Ovaries and Spermatheca of Queen 123
40. Sting of a Bee (greatly magnified) 125
41. Barbs of a Bee's Sting (very highly magnified) 126
42. The Enemies of Bees 141
43. Straw Skep 150
44. Flat-topped Hive and Straw Super 151
45. Neighbour's Improved Cottager's Hive 152
46. " " " 153
47. Modern Hives. Nutt's Collateral Hive in the Foreground 155
48. The Woodbury Hive 157
49. Woodbury Straw Bar-frame Hive 157
50. Cheshire's Bar-frame Hive 159
51. Cheshire's Bar-frame Hive (sectional view) 160
52. Abbott's Standard Frame 161
53. " " (top view) 161
54. Neighbour's Sectional Super (open) 162
55. Frame Super 162
56. Glass Frame Hive, with Super 163
57. Stewarton Hive 165
58. The Carr-Stewarton Hive 167
59. Unicomb Observatory Hive 168
60. A Swarm 173
61. "Tanging" 174
62. Hiving a Swarm 179
63. Swarming Board 192
64. Queen Cage over Sealed Cell 197
65. Inserted Queen Cell 198
66. Bottle Feeder 202
67. Cheshire's Feeding Stage 203
68. Can Feeder 205
69. Round Tin Feeder 205
70. Epilobium Angustifolium. (Young Bloom) 248
71. " " (Old Bloom) 248
72. Cineraria (magnified) 250
73. Tropœolum Majus. (Young Bloom) 252
74. " " (Old Bloom) 252
75. Section of Scrophularia Nodosa 254
76. Scrophularia Nodosa. (Young Bloom) 254
77. " " (Old Bloom) 254
78. Salvia Officinalis. (New Bloom) 255
79. " " (Old Bloom) 255
80. _a_, Erica Tetralix. _b_, Anther of Tetralix 255
81. Section of Strawberry Bloom 256
82. Section of Apple Bloom 257
THE HONEY-BEE.
ERRATA.
p. 22, ten lines from bottom, for "not full grown" read "not more
than two or three days old."
p. 30, last line but one from the bottom, for "neuters" read
"strange workers."
p. 55, line 10 from bottom, for "hind feet" read "pincers on the
hind legs."
p. 110, bottom line, for "four anterior tarsi" read "in the hind
legs."
p. 111, line 3, for "leg" read "hind leg."
" line 6, for "This pocket" read "Above this, on the outside
of the tibia, is a pocket, lined, &c."
p. 136, line 12, for "foul-breeding" read "foul-broody."
ADDENDA.
p. 126, three lines from bottom, add
"The most remarkable function of the sting-apparatus
has, in modern times, been discovered to be the insertion of
a minute drop of the poison in each honey-cell when filled.
This acts as an anti-septic, and prevents fermentation in
the sweet liquid."
p. 136, after first paragraph, add
"It is now known that this treatment is by no means
always successful when the _bacilli_ have reached the
"resting" or "spore" stage."
[Note: All above corrections and additions have been applied!]
THE HONEY-BEE:
ITS NATURE, HOMES, AND PRODUCTS.
INTRODUCTION.
In these days of intense business-pressure, it is a good thing for
men to cultivate hobbies. We say this, notwithstanding the fact
that men with hobbies are likely to become bores, from thinking and
talking too incessantly of their pet occupations, or are apt to run
into extravagant expenditure of time and money, which could be better
utilised. Now, in recommending apiculture, or bee-keeping, as a
recreation from more serious pursuits, we feel that we incur little
risk of increasing the number of bores in society, or of inducing an
undue outlay of hours or pounds on the part of those who follow our
suggestions. For, on the one hand, the facts likely to be spoken of by
enthusiastic apiarians to casual hearers could not fail to interest;
while the practical results of bee-keeping will certainly, to say the
least, repay in hard cash all reasonable outlay on the part of any one
who is possessed of ordinary good sense, and who learns to manage his
hives according to modern methods.
In the following pages we hope to make good both these statements. We
are sure that comparatively few people know what marvellous creatures
bees are; what constant pleasure may be found in watching their work;
what opportunities for skilful use of brain and hand are afforded by
an apiary; what a wide field of study and information is displayed
by these domesticated insects: and though we shall not hold out
dazzling prospects of a large return of money from the pursuit we are
commending, we shall show by facts that, in ordinary seasons, the yield
of honey should amply cover the cost of the bees, their homes, and
their requirements.
Nor would we be understood to limit our recommendation of bee-keeping
to men alone. It is an occupation eminently suited to women. It has
none of the manifest drawbacks of poultry or rabbit-rearing. The needs
of the hives are usually not so pressing as to involve a disregard of
weather or important engagements. Many operations in apiculture call
for female dexterity of hand and finger. It is true that a little
courage, in which few ladies are deficient, is necessary in making a
beginning of skilful bee-management. But, duly protected by veil and
gloves, even the timid need have no fear of being stung or seriously
incommoded.
Intelligent boys and girls of fifteen years and upwards will find a
hive or two of bees quite within their power of management, and the
clever and industrious insects will afford them a surprising amount of
interest, and, it may be, some not unimportant moral lessons.
In the hope of enlarging popular knowledge of these wonderful insects,
and so of increasing apiculture, we have written this book. It does not
profess to go exhaustively into the practical part of bee-keeping; but
enough information is given for ordinary apiarian purposes.
The excellent publications of Langstroth, Cowan, Cheshire, Neighbour,
Hunter, Taylor and Wood will supply all details intentionally omitted
from the present treatise. To several of the above writers, and to
some others mentioned at the end of Chapter I., the author desires to
express his obligations for numerous facts.
Many of the most important illustrations in Chapters XI. and XIV., and
the whole of those in Chapter XXVI. have been taken, by permission,
from the diagrams published by the British Bee-keepers' Association.
These diagrams are reductions from drawings made by Mr. Frank Cheshire,
who is so well known as having devoted many years to the study of
apiculture, especially on its scientific side. To the same gentleman is
also due the discovery of many of the physiological marvels given in
Chapters XI. and XIV., and of the chief facts embodied in the chapter on
"Bees in relation to Flowers."
CHAPTER I.
HISTORIC SKETCH.
Holy Scriptures--Vedas--Egyptian Monuments--The
Koran--Etymological Considerations--Literature of
Subject--Aristotle--Philiscus--Pliny--Virgil--Columella--Other
Classical Authors--Shakespeare--Modern Writers.
Far back in historic time there are records that man had learnt
the value of the bee. The book of Job--probably the oldest of our
sacred Scriptures--contains a reference to honey. The Pentateuch,
the Chronicles of the Israelites, the Psalms, the works of Solomon,
and nearly all the later books of the Old Testament, speak of these
wonderful insects or their produce. They are referred to in the Vedas
of Hindostan, the monuments of Egypt, the poems of Homer and Euripides,
and the narrative of Xenophon's expedition into Persia.
Throughout the ancient civilised world the virtues of honey were
celebrated, and the habits of the bee served to point a moral for
human conduct. It is remarkable that in the Koran we find Mahomet
representing the Almighty as addressing this insect alone of all the
creatures He had made: "The Lord spake by inspiration unto the bee,
saying, 'Provide thee houses in the mountains and in the trees, and
of those materials wherewith men build hives for thee; then eat of
every kind of fruit, and walk in the beaten paths of thy Lord.' There
proceedeth from their bellies a liquor of various colours, wherein is a
medicine for men. Verily, herein is a sign unto people who consider."
The ancient Egyptians must have known much of the domestic economy of
the hive, for they took the figure of the insect to symbolise a people
governed by a sovereign, and this so far back as the twelfth dynasty,
or 2080-1920 B.C.
It has been argued on etymological grounds that in a much remoter
period still, the human race had domesticated the bee; for in Sanskrit
_ma_ means honey, _madhupa_ honey drinker, and _madhukara_ honey
maker. _Madhu_ is evidently the origin of our word mead. Again, _mih_
or _mat_, in Chinese, signifies honey; and it can hardly be a mere
coincidence which has brought about so close a resemblance between the
Turanian and the Indo-European terms above mentioned. We have rather
the indication of the survival of a name in two branches of a still
older language than either of the Asiatic tongues, from which so large
a proportion of modern speech has flowed, thus carrying us back to an
enormously remote period in the history of man. The Latin _mel_, and
French _miel_, both meaning honey, are, of course, the offspring of the
Greek; and all the above words, according to some authorities, point
to the circumstance of the constructive power of the insect having
impressed the minds of men emphatically.
In the Teutonic languages _biene_, _bee_, &c., are evidently connected
with _by_--a termination met with in many English towns, and signifying
"a dwelling"; and so we see that it was not so much the sweet liquid
procured and stored by the insects, as the skill and beauty with which
they fashioned their combs, which struck their human observers; and
though we cannot with certainty affirm that men domesticated them
in these remote times, it seems probable that races who, before the
historic period, had learnt to make use of most of the animals now
under immediate subjection to the wants and purposes of man, saw the
convenience and wisdom of turning to account the nectar-collecting
habits of the bee. Jacob, seventeen centuries before Christ, told his
sons to take "a little honey" among their presents to the lord of
Egypt. Again, the land of Canaan was pictured by God to Moses as "a
land flowing with milk and honey." We should, therefore, probably be
justified in inferring that, as the one liquid was derived from herds
under the people's control, so, too, the other came from domesticated
insects. It may be that no hives were used at so early a period as
the sixteenth century before Christ, and the reference in Ps. lxxxi.
16--"with honey out of the rock should I have satisfied thee"--would
seem to indicate that, at a much later date, the bees were left at
large in their native haunts. Still, the numerous references of the
earlier Scriptures make it plain that honey was an article of common
use, and was obtainable at the discretion of those in Palestine who
wished for it.
With regard to the ancient literature of our subject, the first
treatise on the bee now extant is that of Aristotle in his _History of
Animals_, written about 330 B.C. Observations of a scientific kind
had, however, been made with regard to these insects by a philosopher
of Asia Minor, who is said to have devoted a long lifetime to watching
their habits. Unfortunately, the records of his studies in this
department of entomology have not survived to our day. We have also to
regret that later ages lost the benefit of the labours of Philiscus of
Thasos, who is said to have abandoned the abodes of men for a forest
life, that he might learn all that was possible of the nature and
work of these creatures, which seemed to him so marvellous in their
structure and their doings. It is Pliny the Elder--the well-known Roman
man of science, who lived near the beginning of the Christian era--to
whom we are indebted for notices of the workers in natural history just
mentioned, while he himself devotes some considerable space in his own
book to a description of the bee.
Nearly a century earlier, Vergil, the poet of rural life, as well as
of loftier themes, wrote a charming book--his _Fourth Georgic_--on the
subject of these our winged friends. We may smile at his wondrous plan
for securing a prodigious swarm, and modern methods may claim far more
reasonableness and success than those he advocates in apiculture; but
we may rejoice to see how bewitching was the pursuit of bee-keeping
nearly two millenniums ago, and how true it has been through all the
centuries, as the French writer Gelieu says, "_Beaucoup de gens aiment
les abeilles; je n'ai vu personne qui les aima médiocrement: on se
passionne pour elles._"
The orator Cicero makes frequent reference to them in his charming
treatise on _Old Age_, and other classical writers allude not
unfrequently to these insects.
Columella, who lived in the first century of the Christian era, gave,
in his work _De re rusticâ_, many directions for apiarians; and though,
of course, abounding, like Vergil's work, in errors on certain points,
his book shows a decided advance beyond the knowledge of preceding
writers.
We might speak of Theophrastus, Celsus, and Varro as contributing
to the literature of bee-lore, but it would be beyond the scope of
our design to detail what they have written on the subject. Coming,
however, down to much more recent times, and to our own country, we
cannot resist the temptation to quote the well-known lines of our most
marvellous poet Shakespeare, whose comprehensive intellect almost
rivalled that of Solomon, for "he spake of trees, from the cedar-tree
that is in Lebanon, even unto the hyssop that springeth out of the
wall: he spake also of beasts and of fowl and of creeping things and of
fishes." The passage to which we now especially refer is to be found in
his play of Henry F., act i. sc. 2:--
"Therefore doth heaven divide
The state of man in divers functions,
Setting endeavour in continual motion;
To which is fixed, as an aim or butt,
Obedience: for so work the honey-bees;
Creatures, that, by a rule in nature, teach
The act of order to a peopled kingdom.
They have a king and officers of sorts:
Where some, like magistrates, correct at home:
Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad;
Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings
Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds;
Which pillage, they, with merry march, bring home
To the tent-royal of their emperor:
Who, busied in his majesty, surveys
The singing masons building roofs of gold;
The civil citizens kneading up the honey;
The poor mechanic-porters crowding in
Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate;
The sad-eyed justice, with his surly hum,
Delivering o'er to executors pale
The lazy yawning drone."
Of more recent writers we may mention the French Réaumur; the Swiss,
Bonnet; and Huber, of Geneva, who, with his assistant Burnens, gave
the world so many wondrous details of bee-life and habits. In our
own country, Dr. John Hunter, Dr. John Evans, who has been called
the "poet-laureate of bees," Shuckard, Sir John Lubbock, Cowan, John
Hunter, Taylor, Cheshire, Alfred Neighbour, Pettigrew, Abbott, and
many writers in the _British Bee Journal_, have largely added to our
apiarian knowledge. Not only in America, but universally, the Rev. L.
L. Langstroth, of Ohio, has a well-earned reputation for his researches
and his practical instructions with regard to apiculture. In Germany,
Dr. Dzierzon of Carlsmarkt, in Silesia, and Baron von Berlepsch, of
Coburg, stand at the very head of authorities on all that relates to
bees and bee-keeping.
CHAPTER II.
NATURAL HISTORY.
Orders of Insects--Stages of Development--Egg, Larva, Pupa, Imago
or Perfect Insect--Three Classes of Bees: Queen, Drones, Workers.
It will be observed from the title of this book that it deals with the
honey-bee. The necessity of this restriction will become immediately
evident when we mention the fact that in Great Britain there are no
less than twenty-seven genera and 177 species of native bees, none of
which have been successfully domesticated except _Apis mellifica_, or
the ordinary hive-bee.
The term "insect" has unfortunately been loosely employed in
popular parlance to include such diverse beings as coral-polyps and
house-flies. As the name itself indicates, it is properly applicable
only to such animals as are more or less distinctly divided into
segments. All true insects, in fact, are plainly divisible in their
perfect state into three portions, the head, thorax, and abdomen.
The most important classes in this portion of the animal kingdom are
distinguished by the characteristics of their wings, and are--
I. _Coleoptera_, or those possessing crustaceous _sheathing_
wing-covers, including all the beetles.
II. _Orthroptera_, having the wings when at rest in _straight_
longitudinal folds, comprising such families as the earwigs,
cockroaches, grasshoppers, and locusts.
III. _Neuroptera_, nerve-winged, characterised by four naked, strongly
reticulated organs of flight, as seen in dragon-flies, may-flies, and
white ants.
IV. _Hymenoptera_, _membrane_-winged, resembling the _Neuroptera_ in
some respects, but with fewer reticulations, and their organs of flight
when in use are hooked together along the margins, so as to expose a
continuous surface. Another distinguishing character is the appendage
at the tail, in the form of either a sting or an ovipositor. The chief
representative families are the bees, wasps, gad-flies, ants, and
ichneumons.
V. _Lepidoptera_, having the wings covered with a _scale_-like powder,
set like the tiles of a house. The butterflies and moths all belong to
this order.
VI. _Diptera_, or _two_-winged insects, embracing the gnats,
"daddy-long-legs," blow-flies, and house-flies.
Less important are the _Homoptera_, which have the wings of the _same
consistence_ throughout, as the aphides or blight-insects.
The _Heteroptera_, having the fore-wings coriaceous (or leathery) at
the base and membranous towards the extremity. These comprise the bug
tribe; while fleas belong to the _Aptera_, or _wingless_ insects.
Insects pass through four stages during their lifetime: the _egg_, the
_larva_, the _pupa_, and the _imago_ conditions. The honey-bee exists
in each of these states.
_The egg._--All the eggs of the community are laid by the queen. The
cells in which they are deposited vary in size and in shape, according
to whether queens, drones, or workers are to be developed in them. In
length the eggs are about one-twelfth of an inch; in shape, oblong,
but a little broader at the upper than at the lower end, and slightly
curved; in colour they are white, with a bluish tinge. Their external
coat is slightly glutinous when they are first laid, and thus they
adhere to the bottom of the cell in which they are deposited.
[Illustration: Fig. 1.--Egg's and Larva of Bees.]
_The larva._--Under the genial influence of the heat of the hive,
ranging from 66° to 70° Fahr., the formation of the larva from the
egg-contents immediately begins; and, in the course of three days,
a tiny worm or grub has been developed, and makes its way out of
its delicate shell. It now lies curled round, still at the base of
its dwelling, and, fed by the nurse-bees on a jelly-like mixture of
pollen and honey, it rapidly grows. Its food supply is made strictly
correspondent to its wants, and by the time the larva is ready for its
next change not a drop of the jelly is unconsumed. The fleshy white
grub is in shape at first slightly, and afterwards strongly curved,
and a little pointed at each end. The future segments of the insect
now become gradually visible, fifteen in number, and ten of them are
furnished each with a minute aperture on opposite sides of the body,
and connected with air-tubes, or spiracles, by which respiration is
carried on. The segments have also a series of minute tubercles, whose
office seems to be to aid in the motions of the grub, which motions
doubtless contribute to the assimilation of food, and so to growth.
The head of the larva is small, is smooth above, and is furnished with
two little projecting horns, from which will be developed the future
antennæ.
[Illustration: Fig. 2.--Larvæ.
_a._ Worker larvæ. _b._ Queen larva. _c._ Queen cell sealed.]
The jaws are small, and articulate below a narrow lip. They are
constantly in motion, probably to reduce the pollen-grains existing
in the so-called bee-bread, which, with honey, as already mentioned,
constitute their food. Beneath the jaws, and centrally between them,
is a fleshy protuberance, which has a perforation at its extremity,
through which the larva emits a sticky fluid, similar to that from
which spider's-web or silk is made. With this the grub spins for itself
a cocoon, in which a further and important transformation takes place
in the structure of the insect.
[Illustration: Fig. 3.--Sealed Cells.]
The time occupied in making this silken dress is, for drone- and
worker-larvæ, thirty-six hours. Princesses, who trouble themselves to
make only half-cocoons, finish theirs in twenty-four hours. So soon
as the grubs are ready for this process, the nurse-bees form over the
entrance to each cell a lid made of wax and a sticky substance called
propolis; leaving, however, minute perforations for the admission of
air. These coverings are darker than the caps of the honey-cells. They
are also somewhat convex over worker-larvæ, and over drone-grubs they
stand out almost hemispherically. Hence it is easy to distinguish
the look of brood cells from that of those containing food-stores.
Moreover, the former are situated usually in or near the centre of each
comb, while the latter, where the two co-exist, are found near the top.
It is very important to learn the difference in appearance between
the two, as several points of successful manipulation depend upon the
knowledge.
[Illustration: Fig. 4.--A. Larva full grown, viewed sideways.
B. Larva preparing for pupa state.]
_The nymph or pupa._--In this condition the insect is at first
semi-transparent, and white, with a yellowish tinge. Hour by hour the
various organs of the perfect bee proceed in their development, and
become more and more discernible through the thin pellicle enshrouding
them. On the head, the eyes and antennæ assume their ultimate size
and marvellous structure. The legs and wings are clearly seen folded
lengthwise along the thorax and abdomen. The chitinous covering of
the body attains increasing firmness, and the colour of the exterior
deepens to a greyish brown.
At length, in periods varying in the three classes of inmates of
the hive, maturity is reached. In the case of queens, sixteen days
suffice for complete metamorphosis from the egg to the full-grown
insect. Drones require twenty-four days, and workers from nineteen to
twenty-two days, according to the warmth of the weather, to go through
all their changes.
[Illustration: Fig. 5.--Worker Larva and Pupa in Comb.]
When ready to emerge from the cell, the young bee nibbles round the
lid of its abode, and bursting its cocoon along the back, it crawls
forth in its imago or perfect condition. Forthwith the busy nurses
clean it from any remains of its silken covering; brush its legs
and antennæ; pull its wings and fuss about it, as if to urge it to
action and to arouse it to a due sense of its newly acquired powers.
Speedily awakened to its responsibilities, the young bee assumes, as
its earliest duties, the tending of the brood-cells, the feeding of
the larvæ, and the various offices so recently performed for itself by
its slightly older sisters. Then, as strength increases, the wings are
tried in flight; the locality of its home is reconnoitred, and in two
or three days after its emergence into its complete condition it issues
forth on journeys, nearer or more remote, in search of stores for the
perpetually recurring wants of the succession of children continually
being reared in the hive.
Each complete community of bees consists of three classes; first, the
queen, who is the parent of all the offspring; second, the drones, or
males; and third, the workers, which are really undeveloped females.
CHAPTER III.
THE QUEEN-BEE
Early Errors as to Sex--The "Mother Bee"--Distinguishing
Characteristics--Functions--Attentions paid her--Effects
of Loss; how Repaired by Bees--Enmity to Rivals--Length of
Life--Egg-laying.
One of the earliest facts ascertained in the study of bees was that
there existed in each colony one individual differing considerably from
all the rest in appearance and in functions. Early observers, it is
true, mistook even the sex of the one so distinguished. Vergil says:
"Et circa regem atque ipsa ad prætoria densæ
Miscentur."
And, again,
"Rege incolumi mens omnibus una est."
Shakespeare, in the passage quoted in a previous chapter, talks of "a
king," and other writers were equally ignorant of the true state of
the case. The headship of the hive is, in fact, held by a solitary
female, to whom the name of "queen" has been given, both on account of
the respect she receives, and the controlling influence she appears
to exercise over the other inmates of her domain. The Germans,
on perfectly safe grounds, call her "the mother-bee"; and it is,
doubtless, owing to the all-important circumstance of the continued
existence of the race depending upon her, that she is the object of
such intense affection, attention, and devotion.
This is corroborated by the circumstance that it is only after she
has been fertilised, and begins to lay, that she is much honoured. As
princess merely, not the slightest respect is paid to her. She is not
even fed by the workers, but has to help herself, and in doing so must
scramble over the busy crowd in her way, not one of whom will trouble
to move out of her path.
Two or three prominent characteristics serve readily to distinguish
the queen from the rest of the bees. In the first place, her body is
much longer and more tapering towards its lower extremity. Her wings
are shorter in comparison with her length. The upper surface of her
body is of a darker and more glossy hue than that of her subjects. Her
movements are slower and less anxious in appearance than those of the
workers, except at swarming time, when excitement quickens her steps,
and gives' her an air of purposeless solicitude; though, in reality,
her anxiety is caused by the desire to slay a royal and rival daughter,
whose co-existence in the hive she cannot tolerate.
A closer examination reveals several other points of difference. In our
English species, of which we are now especially speaking, her colour
is yellowish underneath; her head is rounder, her legs are longer, her
tongue is more slender and not so extensile as that of the other bees;
and her sting is curved instead of being straight, like the formidable
weapon of the workers. It is asserted by some writers that she has a
peculiar odour readily distinguishable, and so powerfully attractive to
her people, that they will alight on the finger of any one who has been
handling their queen.
[Illustration: Fig. 6.--The Queen of the Hive.]
Several characteristics of a negative kind may also be noted. Her
proboscis is not fitted for extracting the nectar of flowers, and she
can only lap food, or take it from the tongues of her attendants.
She, moreover has no expansion of the gullet for a honey-bag, since
she never requires to collect and carry home the sweet liquid. She
possesses no cysts for the elaboration of wax, as she takes no part in
contributing to the materials of her dwelling. The last pair of legs
are convex on the outside, containing no pocket for carrying pollen or
propolis; and the other legs are without the brushes of the workers,
which enable them to clear their bodies of the powdery discharge of the
anthers of flowers, for she never visits plants. All her wants in the
way of nourishment are supplied by her subjects.
[Illustration: Fig. 7.--Queen Surrounded by Attendants.
The Queen, or Mother-Bee, as in nature, surrounded by her
ladies-in-waiting, and exhibited in a glass hive to the royal visitors
at the British Bee-Keepers' Association Show at Kilburn, 1879, by
Abbott Bros., Southall.]
She mates once in her life, when she is a few days old, with a single
drone, and on the wing. That is the only occasion of her leaving the
hive, except when she leads forth a swarm. Her grand function is to lay
eggs, and every part of her structure and every power she has is more
or less related to this all-important duty. She is, as we have implied,
freed from every other office. The hatching, the tending, the rearing,
the instruction of her progeny, are entirely taken out of her hands,
and it is doubtful whether she has any affection for her children. She
is constantly attended by a retinue of ten or twelve "maids of honour,"
who all keep their heads turned towards her, clear the way for her,
prevent all crowding round her, and supply her with the most nutritious
food, previously half digested by themselves. They caress her with
their antennæ, and seem to find a real joy in mere proximity to their
monarch. Should she, by more rapid movements than usual, outstrip her
retiring attendants, the bees with whom she thus unexpectedly comes in
contact appear excited and alarmed, and move hastily from her path. So
long as she remains sound and well in the hive, all the varied works go
on peacefully and incessantly. Should she die or be removed, immediate
consternation is manifested. Her subjects rush about in excitement
and distress. They buzz around the neighbourhood of the hive, but all
active and productive work ceases. They know that unless the disastrous
loss can be repaired, their community must perish for lack of new
progeny, and when despair seizes them, they seem to act upon the motto,
"Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die."
But the skilled bee-keeper comes to the rescue when he has ascertained
the death or loss of a queen, and introduces another monarch to the
distressed community. Care and caution, however, have to be exercised
in this operation; for, until convinced that there is no hope of the
restoration of their rightful sovereign, the workers will not tolerate
a substitute for her. Even when their hopes are extinguished, it
is much safer to cage the new queen, for thirty-six or forty-eight
hours, on a comb, so that a gradual acquaintance with one another
may be formed before free intercourse is allowed. Otherwise, it will
frequently happen that the introduced mother-bee will come to grief by
stings or by suffocation. Cases, indeed, have occurred in which it has
been found impossible to induce a hive to receive a stranger queen, and
it has become necessary to amalgamate such a community with another
already possessed of a monarch.
But, under certain circumstances, the bees will, in a marvellous way,
provide themselves with a sovereign. If at the time of discovering
their loss there are worker-eggs in the hive, and these are only
two or three days old, a cell containing one such egg is selected,
and enlarged by breaking down the surrounding partitions. The shape
and direction of the cell are also altered, being made pyriform, or
like a pear, and with its open end downwards. The royal cradle, in
fact, is made to look like a small acorn-cup inverted. In this abode
is deposited a certain amount of so-called "royal jelly," a more
pungent and stimulating food than that supplied to other larvæ, and
consisting of a mixture of honey and partially digested pollen. Under
the influence of this nourishment, the grub, instead of becoming a
worker-bee, as it would have done in the usual course of events,
undergoes all those important modifications which distinguish the
queen from her ordinary offspring; and, moreover, the necessary
transformations from the larval to the perfect condition of the insect
are so expedited as to take only sixteen, instead of twenty-one, days.
We have said that, if newly-laid eggs exist, these are preferred by
the workers for their purpose of queen manufacture; but they will, if
shut up to the necessity, thus transform worker-larvæ, if not more than
two or three days old. Usually, when prompted in this way to provide
themselves with a hive-mother, they begin, not one only, but several,
apparently to secure themselves against all danger of failure. But the
first which comes to maturity assumes the sovereignty, and, unless the
condition of the stock requires the speedy emission of a swarm, she
will be allowed to gratify her instinctive enmity to rivals, and will
destroy them as they are ready to emerge from their cells.
This hatred of equals is an extraordinary fact, when we consider that
the queen knowingly lays eggs under conditions in which they will,
in the ordinary course of events, become princesses. Then another
circumstance of peculiar significance, and very marvellous, is that,
notwithstanding the absolute authority possessed by the queen under
other conditions, and in spite of the usual subjection and subservience
of the workers, they will not allow their monarch complete liberty in
the destruction of her royal progeny. If the crowded state of their
dwelling makes it evident that the emission of a colony is necessary,
the workers-in-waiting forcibly restrain their sovereign from indulging
in her strong desire to slay her fully-developed daughters. She resents
the interference, but no assumption of her dignity and authority will
avail, and her absolutism is in this direction distinctly limited.
Incensed at length beyond endurance, she quits the hive at the head of
a swarm of her faithful subjects, and establishes a community where
again she will have sole sway. If, on the other hand, circumstances do
not necessitate a division of the population, the old queen is allowed
to destroy the young ones as they issue from the pupa state.
It is said that the only other condition in which the workers rebel
against their monarch is when she is growing worn out with age, and
seems likely to fail in power of egg-laying. Then she is believed, in
some instances, to be supplanted; but it is not known with certainty
whether natural death may not account for her removal, or whether
she is slain by her subjects, or by a young queen preserved by their
intervention.
Should the loss of the queen take place when there is no brood-comb in
the hive, from the season of the year, or from other circumstances,
such as the cessation of egg-laying, the bees often manifest a series
of almost frantic efforts to repair their loss. Sometimes they will try
to develop a female from drone eggs. They have been known even to take
a lump of pollen and surround it with a queen cell, in the absurd hope
of getting a monarch so. It sometimes happens that one of the workers
develops the power of laying eggs, all of which turn to drones--a
marvellous fact in parthenogenesis--and the workers treat some of these
to a royal abode and royal jelly, in the futile hope of thus raising
a sovereign. In fact, as has been wittily but truly said, "when bees
have lost their queen they lose their _head_." This close connection
of queen and people is reciprocal, for the sovereign who is forcibly
separated from her subjects refuses food, pines away, and speedily dies.
It is only in very rare instances (such as those we have mentioned when
speaking of the introduction of a stranger-queen) that the workers
attack and kill royalty. Queens, on the other hand, are never known to
use their stings against their subjects. They reserve them for combats
with their equals, thus realising the salutary arrangement, which might
have such practically important political consequences if adopted in
human affairs, "Let those who make the quarrels be the only ones to
fight."
The queen, though developed more rapidly than the drones and the
workers, enjoys a much longer life than her subjects. In some instances
this period has been known to extend to five or even six years; but
her fecundity is said to diminish after her second year, or, if it
continues, she will in her old age lay a majority of drone eggs, to the
serious weakening of the community. The skilled apiarian, therefore,
takes care that every hive shall have a queen of an age when her
fertility is greatest.
The process of egg-laying begins from two to four days after the flight
for mating, depending somewhat on the preparation of cells for that
purpose. The queen, on finding comb adapted to her needs, thrusts her
head into a cell, apparently to ascertain if it is empty, and of the
right depth and size for one of the two different kinds of eggs--those
for workers, and those to become drones. Satisfied on these points,
she withdraws her head, and, curving herself downwards, inserts her
abdomen, and giving the lower part of her body a half-turn towards the
thorax, she expels an egg from her oviduct, and then retires in search
of other cells in which to make similar deposits. She rarely, and only
by mistake, lays more than one egg in a cell. If she falls into the
error, the worker-bees immediately remove all but one.
The examination of each cell by the queen to ascertain its fitness
for the two kinds of eggs is an essential point; for, in the first
place, the nature of drone-eggs is radically different from that of
those which will produce workers; and the size of the cells in which
the former are hatched is considerably greater than that in which the
latter will be developed, nineteen ends of the larger covering a square
inch of surface, while twenty-seven of the smaller will occupy the same
space.
It seems an indisputable fact that the queen has the power of laying
which of the two kinds of eggs she pleases. The essential difference
between the two seems to be, that those which will become drones are
not fertilised by spermatozoa just previous to leaving the oviduct,
while the worker-eggs are thus specially vivified, and the operation
appears to be under volitional control.
A further remarkable circumstance is that the rate of egg-laying is
also a matter of determination, and not of necessity, on the part of
the queen; for when a transfer has been made from a weak to a strong
hive, the number of eggs deposited has been known to vary, within two
days, from none to two thousand in twenty-four hours. In the one case
the mother-bee knew her colony was not strong enough to keep up the
requisite warmth for hatching and developing her progeny; in the other,
she proceeded vigorously with her functions, the further progress of
the young being secured by the abundance of the population sufficing to
keep up the proper temperature, and to render all needed attention to
the larvæ in their further development.
The ordinary rate of laying, under favourable conditions, varies from
600 to 800 eggs a day; but, under pressure of specially suitable
conditions, from i,000 to 1,200 are not unfrequently deposited.
Langstroth and Von Berlepsch have seen six laid in a minute; and the
latter observer, on supplying a queen with some new empty comb, found
after twenty-four hours more than 3,000 eggs had been laid. If this
queen on the average got rid of five eggs per minute, the total number
just mentioned would have been deposited in ten hours, so that she
would have had fourteen hours for rest. The queen kept up her rate
for twenty days, in which time she had filled 57,000 cells, and, what
is very remarkable, her fecundity is said to have continued for five
years, during which period she must have laid nearly a million and
a-half of eggs. Dzierzon says, "_Most_ queens, in spacious hives,
and in a favourable season, lay 60,000 in a month, and a specially
fertile queen, in the four years which she on an average lives, lays
over a million eggs." These numbers will give some idea of the immense
expenditure of life that is continually going on.
To keep up these very great productive energies, it is evident that
large quantities of food must be consumed by the mother-bee, and, as we
should expect, the amount taken varies in the ratio of the vigour of
egg-laying.
It sometimes happens that, in the very height of her duties, sufficient
cells are not forthcoming as places of deposit for eggs; and, in that
case, the queen leaves some on the combs, or at the bottom of the hive.
Strange to say, the worker-bees greedily devour such waifs and strays.
In this respect we observe a great difference between ants and bees.
Among the latter we do not find that passionate love and care for the
eggs and larvæ which so strongly mark the former. Other circumstances
of a similar kind, to be noted later on, show, on the part of bees, an
intense regard for stores rather than progeny, notwithstanding their
affection and devotion to the mother-bee, whose functions they thus
acknowledge as all-important to the race.
The egg-laying of the queen goes on more or less for nine or ten
months of the year, under favouring conditions; but the season of
greatest activity is during April, May, and June. Various circumstances
after that time cause a diminution of the number of eggs, till in
November, December, and January, as a rule, the queen ceases her
motherly functions.
CHAPTER IV.
THE DRONES.
Distinguishing Characteristics--Time of Hatching--Numbers--Purposes
served by them--Destruction by Workers or other means--Unusual
Survival.
[Illustration: Fig. 8.--A Drone.]
The drones are the male population of the bee-community. In general
form they are more cylindrical than the queens or workers. They are
shorter than the former, but larger and more robust than the latter.
Their colour is of a deeper brown, and they are much more hairy,
especially at the lower extremity. Their wings are strong, and greater
in proportion to the length of their bodies than those of the females
or neuters, reaching, indeed, to the full extent of their abdomen. The
posterior expansion of the lower pair gives a broad backward sweep,
and enables the heavy body of the drone to fly with great rapidity, and
to rise very freely in the air. Another peculiarity of structure is
the vertical enlargement of the compound eyes. By the meeting of these
eyes over the brow, the drone is able more readily to see the virgin
queen when she issues for her one bridal excursion. Drones have a
strong odour, which becomes very perceptible when several are confined
together in a box. Their proboscis is not fit for the collection of
honey; moreover they have no receptacle for carrying the liquid, and,
in fact, show no inclination even to feed themselves from flowers.
They take their nourishment from what is stored in the cells. As Evans
accurately and concisely says of them, they
"wheel around
On heavier wing, and hum a deeper sound.
No sharpened sting they boast; yet, buzzing loud,
Before the hive, in threatening circles, crowd
The unwieldy drones. Their short proboscis sips
No luscious nectar from the wild thyme's lips;
From the lime's leaf no amber drops they steal,
Nor bear their grooveless thighs the foodful meal;
On others' toils, in pampered leisure, thrive
The lazy fathers of the industrious hive."
This inability to feed themselves from Nature's sources makes them
almost unique among the fully developed creatures of the animal
world. Their consumption of the stores of the hive is not resented
by the workers till the swarming season is over, and what is further
remarkable is, that they are permitted to enter without molestation
communities other than that in which they were bred, though strange
workers would be strictly prohibited from such trespassing.
The first drones of the season appear generally about the middle of
April, but they are most numerously hatched in May and June. The
actual number in a hive varies from 500 to 2,000. Only one or two of
these will become the mates of as many young queens, and the question
is often asked, What can be the use of such an immense superfluity
of males? The best answer that can be given is, that it is extremely
important, considering the dangers to which a virgin queen is exposed
in her flight from the hive, that there should be no difficulty for
her in meeting with a spouse. When drones are scarce, and a very early
swarm has issued from a hive, it happens sometimes that the young queen
remaining at the head of the stock has to make several flights before
finding a mate. As she is liable to be snapped up by birds, or driven
away by gusts of wind, or lost through not knowing her own hive, it is
manifestly far safer for the supply of drones to be large enough to
insure a meeting on the first occasion of her flying.
It has been suggested by some bee-keepers that the eggs are fertilised
in the cells by the drones, after the manner of the ova of fishes; but
this theory is utterly untenable in view of the fact that much brood is
found in the hives at seasons when, as a rule, no drones exist, _i.e._
in the early spring and late autumn.
From a reference to drones in the _Troades_ of Euripides (lines
191-195), it would almost seem that the ancient Greeks, five centuries
before Christ, had an idea that the male bees were the door-keepers of
the hives, and the guardians of the young. We know, however, that this
is not the case.
Again, certain Polish writers have asserted that the drones are the
water-carriers of the community; but this notion is as fanciful and
groundless as the preceding idea.
A more sensible supposition is that by their numbers the warmth of
the hive necessary for the hatching and development of the larvæ is
promoted, and that, in consequence, more of the workers are freed for
honey-getting and pollen-gathering. One objection to this theory has
been made on the score that, when there is most need for the heat of
the hive to be maintained, viz., in the winter, all the drones are
dead; but the reply to this is, that at that season there are no stores
to be collected, and therefore no need for the workers to be liberated
from indoor duties.
It is certain that bee-keepers who have taken the trouble to catch
or to destroy hundreds of drones from their hives, have not found
themselves rewarded by a greater amount of produce or by stronger
stocks through saving what the murdered drones would have eaten. At
the same time, where a honey-harvest is desired, there is little doubt
it is well for some control to be exercised over the number of drones
hatched in the hive. This can be governed, to a considerable extent,
by furnishing the bees with "foundation comb," the rudimentary cells
of which are of the size adapted only for workers. Still, there is no
doubt of the practical importance of having a good supply of males in
the hives during the swarming time. When they are no longer of use, the
workers expel them. By many it has been asserted that the drones are
stung to death; but any one who takes the trouble to watch what goes
on in July and August, will see that, for the most part, the neuters
seize their brethren by the wing, and drag them from the entrance of
the home. If much resistance is made, they will persevere in trying
to keep them away; but, at last, when patience is exhausted, they
will bite the wings underneath, and so render them almost powerless.
Harassed in these ways, and prevented from taking food from the cells,
the drones die of starvation in large numbers. A few may be stung to
death. Many will creep to unfrequented parts of the comb, in hope of
escaping notice; and if a side box, or unoccupied back of a wooden
hive, be opened for them, they will congregate there. Mr. Henry Taylor
mentions in his _Bee-Keepers Manual_, that, on one occasion, he found
as many as 2,200 which had thus clustered in an empty side box. He
took them away, and the other bees went to work with more vigour after
having been thus relieved of their useless population, as if they were
glad to be rid of those who were consumers, but non-producers.
In many instances, especially when food-supplies are running short, and
are not easily replaceable, the workers will drag out the just emerging
drones from their cells, together with pupæ and larvæ, and will cast
them forth to die.
If no necessity for swarming occurs, through there being plenty of room
in the hive for the extension of the colony, or for any other reason,
either no royal cells will be made, or the young princesses will be
destroyed as they approach maturity. In this case, an unusually early
destruction of the males will occur, as the workers instinctively know
there is little use in permitting them to continue alive. Still, some
will be allowed to exist, for the sake of other communities, as it is
now maintained, with much show of reason, that a young queen selects
for her consort a drone not belonging to her own hive. The importance
of this crossing of breed, for keeping up the vigour of the race, is
one of the best ascertained facts in natural history. While, then, we
cannot suppose the bees to be aware of the benefits to be derived from
this "selection before marriage," we see in it one more circumstance
indicating the marvellous capabilities of so-called "instinct"--we
would prefer very much to say one more proof of the all-pervading
superintendence of a Divine Mind, which works throughout what we call
Nature. We might, indeed, expect that He, without whose supervision
not a sparrow alights on the ground in search of its food, would show
to our intelligent inquiries equally plain evidence of His universal
working, and of His infinitely wise determination of all that has to
do with the welfare and the permanence of the various classes of the
animal and vegetable worlds.
CHAPTER V.
THE WORKERS.
Distinguishing Characteristics--Supposed Differences of
Function among them--Sir John Lubbock's Experiments--Fertile
Workers--Length of Life--"Black Bees"--Duties of Workers.
[Illustration: Fig. 9.--A Worker Bee.
_a._ Natural size. _b._ Magnified.]
The workers are by far the most numerous, and, in some sense, the most
important party in the commonwealth of bees. They are smaller in size
than either queens or drones. Microscopic examination, and the fact of
their occasionally developing the power of laying eggs, prove that they
are really undeveloped females. It is hardly correct, therefore, to
call them, as has been so often done, _neuters_. The chief structural
differences to be noted in them, as compared with the other two classes
in the hive, are, the possession of a long proboscis for gathering
honey, of receptacles for carrying pollen, of a very formidable
straight and barbed sting, and brushes on the legs for clearing
different parts of the body from the farina of flowers or from dust.
The worker-eggs are deposited by the queen in the smaller-sized cells
of the combs, and are the first laid in a new colony, or in the spring
of the year.
Certain observers have thought they noticed differences in the size
of the full-grown workers, and supposed that these variations were
connected with diversity of occupations and duties. But as all have
their several organs and their whole structure precisely alike, and
as little direct evidence of special functions has been adduced, it
is tolerably certain that any peculiarities in regard to size must be
otherwise explained. Nor is it difficult to discover how these may have
been brought about. For, since each pupa leaves behind it some portion
of the silken cocoon it had spun, it is clear that after a succession
of young bees from the same cells, these must become sensibly
contracted in extent, so that the later progeny will not have had as
much space in which to grow as their elder-born sisters had, and hence
are, at least when they emerge, smaller in size.
Huber, without reference to the above-mentioned fact, supposed that
separate duties were undertaken by special bees, at least so far as
the gathering of stores and the care of the young were concerned.
Subsequent observations, however, tend to show that the latter office
is undertaken by the most recently born young, till they themselves
have become strong enough to fly abroad in search of honey and
pollen. It is said they also see to the making of wax, the building
of comb, and the cleansing of the hive, during the first two or three
weeks of their life. Some corroboration of this idea is given by the
circumstance that, if there be not sufficient room for the extension
of a very strong population in their abode, and the conditions for
swarming are not satisfactory, the older bees will remain idle in
clusters, often outside the hive, leaving to the younger ones the
execution of the internal work.
Sir John Lubbock has recorded a series of observations which seem to
indicate that certain individuals are stationed near the entrances as
sentinels. In his most interesting work on _Ants, Bees, and Wasps_, he
says:--
"On October 5th I called out the bees by placing some eau-de-Cologne in
the entrance, and marked the first three bees that came out. At 5 P.M.
I called them out again. About twenty came, including the three marked
ones. I marked three more.
"October 6. Called them out again. Out of the first twelve, five were
marked ones. I marked three more.
"October 7. Called them out at 7.30 A.M. as before. Out of the first
nine seven were marked ones. At 5.30 P.M. called them out again. Out of
six, five were marked ones.
"Octobers. Called them out at 7.15. Six came out, all marked ones.
"October 9. Called them out at 6.40. Out of the first ten, eight were
marked ones. Called them out at 11.30 A.M. Out of six, three were
marked. I marked other three. Called them out at 1.30 P.M. Out of ten,
six were marked. Called them out at 4.30. Out often, seven were marked.
"October 10. Called them out at 6.5 A.M. Out of six, five were marked.
Shortly afterwards I did the same again, when out of eleven, seven were
marked ones. 5.30 P.M. called them out again. Out of seven, five were
marked.
"October 11. 6.30 A.M. called them out again. Out of nine, seven were
marked. 5 P.M. called them out again. Out of seven, five were marked.
After this they took hardly any notice of the scents.
"Thus in these nine experiments, out of the ninety-seven bees which
came out first, no less than seventy-one were marked ones."
Many interesting questions connected with the workers remain for future
investigation: such, for instance, as whether the same bee returns to
the same part of the hive after each foraging expedition; whether the
same bees go out in search of stores day after day, or sometimes take
holidays or rest from out-door fatigues, by applying themselves to some
of the internal labours of the hive; whether those who become more or
less exhausted from long-continued flights die, for the most part, on
their journeys, or come back home to end their lives.
One point not known to general readers is, that a bee on each separate
going out for stores confines herself to one particular kind of flower
for that expedition. That is to say, a worker who begins on violets,
will not visit any other flowers than violets before returning to the
hive. If lime-blossoms are chosen, they will be adhered to. If a bee
searching white-clover heads be watched, she will be seen to go only
to similar sources of supply. This fact may be verified by any one
who will take the trouble to notice in field or garden the customs of
the hive-bee. It does not seem to be the habit of wild bees thus to
confine themselves to particular flowers for each journey they make.
The importance of this circumstance in the case of our domesticated
species, and its influence on the vegetable world, will be noted in a
later chapter, when we discuss the relation of bees to flowers.
We have before alluded to the very remarkable phenomenon occasionally
occurring to the great annoyance of the bee-keeper, namely, the
development in a worker of the power of laying eggs, which eggs
will produce nothing but drones, so that the population of the hive
dwindles, and becomes extinct. Various suggestions have been made
as to the reason of this faculty appearing. A very plausible idea
is that some of the "royal jelly" is occasionally, and possibly by
mistake, given to a larva in the neighbourhood of a queen-cell, and
this stimulating food produces a partial development of laying power.
A second possibility is that sometimes a worker-larva in too forward a
condition is transferred to a queen-cell, and owing to the difference
of treatment not having been begun early enough, an imperfect and
nondescript kind of bee results. Some corroboration of this may perhaps
be found in a curious fact, which has been several times noted, and
published in the _British Bee-Journal_, viz., the finding of workers
hatched in queen-cells. It would be difficult to imagine such an
abnormal event, unless unusual circumstances had occurred to the young
larva.
The birth of a fertile worker in a hive is a great misfortune; for, not
merely will the population diminish, and at length altogether fail,
from the production of drone-brood only, but, as it is impossible
to distinguish the offending worker, it is difficult to get rid of
her. It has been recommended, on the discovery that she exists, to
amalgamate the stock with another having a queen. This may answer, but
there is a danger that when the battle comes to be fought between the
actual sovereign and the fertile worker, who will try to maintain her
prerogative, the latter, as the more active, and as possessed of a
more formidable sting, may prove victorious. A safer plan, therefore,
is to turn out the whole stock from their hive, comb by comb, if the
bar-frame system is used, and allow them to return to the old place
where the cleared combs may be put to receive them. The fertile worker,
never having left the colony, will not know her way back, and so will
be happily got rid of, and will probably perish. Her place must, of
course, be supplied by an introduced queen, or the stock must be united
with another.
The age to which the workers live varies according to the amount of
labour they undergo. During the winter and the early spring, when
little or no work is done, there is small drain on their vital force,
and they may live for six or seven months. In the height of summer,
when long days and abundant supplies invite them to many hours of
continuous toil, the industrious insects are believed to exhaust
themselves very rapidly, and to perish, as if prematurely old, in about
five or six weeks. It is quite evident that the mortality during the
middle of the year must be very great, seeing that egg-laying and
hatching go on at the rate of several hundreds a day, and during weeks
and months in succession: and yet it frequently happens, where room
sufficient for the growing stores is provided, no swarm will be thrown
off, from which we infer that a period is reached when the birth-rate
and death-rate pretty closely approach each other.
The older workers are distinguishable from the younger by their deeper
and more glossy colour. The grey bloom of youth has been worn off,
and frequently their wings, notched or broken in places, betray the
veterans in the battle of life, who, amidst rains, hail, and wind, have
suffered more or less severely.
Some observers have called attention to certain individuals in the
community, which have been spoken of as "black bees,"[1] and which have
been supposed to possess special functions. Von Berlepsch ascertained
from his countryman Leuckart that no anatomical differences existed
between these and ordinary workers; and, from subsequent experiments,
came to the conclusion that the difference in colour was due to the
accidental absence or the loss of the hairs or down with which bees are
ordinarily covered. This loss may have occurred through getting smeared
with honey, or from stifling, or fright, or creeping constantly through
apertures too small to admit their bodies readily. Dzierzon, another
great authority, corroborates the above explanation, and further
adds, "as a rule, the glossy black bees are _robbers_, which have been
pursuing their trade for some time."
[Footnote 1: This term is also used for all English bees, in
distinction from the _Ligurian_, _Cyprian_, and other varieties with
yellow bands.]
A similar difference in size and colour has been often noticed in
the case of drones; and the explanation of their occurrence seems
to be that such smaller individuals have been hatched in the cells
intermediate between the normal drone and worker varieties, a tier or
two of such intermediate cells being frequently made, to shade off the
difference of size between the two kinds.
The duties undertaken by the workers constitute a series of operations
indicating marvellous skill and apparent reasoning power. It is
true that what we call "instinct"--a word which merely covers our
ignorance--seems to play a large part in the direction of the doings
of bees; but the readiness with which they adapt themselves to
circumstances, the expedients they adopt to remedy defects in their
dwellings or surroundings, the efforts they make to repair losses and
to provide for the continuance of the race, appear to transcend the
limits of a power actuated by blind impulse alone.
We have spoken of the brooding over and feeding of the larvæ, the
sealing of the pupæ, the cleansing of the newly-hatched young, as the
special duties of the workers. All these offices are performed by
the most juvenile members of the family, who thus become gradually
initiated into the responsibilities of bee-life, and daily gather
strength for the next and more extended duties of citizenship. These
consist of the gathering of supplies of honey, pollen, and propolis,
the elaboration of wax, the making of the combs, the storing and
sealing up of produce, the cleansing and ventilation of the hive, the
guarding of the entrance, and the driving off or slaughter of intruders
of various kinds.
These various operations are worthy of separate notice, and we will
proceed to give some details relating to each.
CHAPTER VI.
HONEY.
Origin--How Collected and Stored--Constitution--Poisonous
Honey--Best varieties of Honey--Distances traversed by Bees in
search of Honey--Uses.
Honey is mainly derived from the nectar of flowers. We say mainly,
because bees are able to make use of many sweet liquids, such as the
juices of ripe fruits, the substances constituting what is called
"honey-dew," the syrup of sugar, and the solid material of sweetmeats.
Still, by far the larger proportion of honey is derived from flowers.
By means of its long flexible tongue the bee sucks from the nectaries
of various plants the sweet liquid they contain. In an expansion of the
gullet, which somewhat resembles the crop of birds, some slight, but
important, chemical changes appear to take place, and while a portion
of the fluid passes into the true stomach for the nourishment of the
insect, the rest is regurgitated into a cell of one of the combs.
At first the honey thus deposited is very thin, but by evaporation
under the warmth of the hive, a portion of the water passes off, and
a process of what apiarians call "ripening" goes on, after which the
remaining liquid is less liable to fermentation, when extracted from
the comb.
Honey appears to consist mainly of two kinds of sugar, one of which
is closely allied to that contained in the grape, and which by
spontaneous change is apt to crystallise in contact with air. The other
is uncrystallisable, like the purest treacle, and mingled with it are
slight quantities of colouring matter and mucilage. These sugars are
somewhat apt to undergo a vinous fermentation, of which advantage
has been taken in the manufacture of mead--a drink much used by the
inhabitants of these islands in ancient times as a stimulant, and even
intoxicant.
The taste of honey varies according to the flowers or other sources
from which it has been chiefly derived. That procured from flowers,
especially those of the labiate family--from the clovers, the
lime-blossoms, and the heaths--is most esteemed. That which has been
derived from sugar-syrup differs but slightly from the liquid of its
origin. That procured from what is called honey-dew, or the secretion
of various sorts of aphides, is very worthless in quality, though bees
are extremely fond of the liquid.
It is a remarkable and unfortunate fact, that the honey collected from
certain flowers is, though innocuous to bees, more or less injurious to
the human body. Xenophon tells us in his _Anabasis_ that his soldiers
found many hives in the neighbourhood of Trebizonde, and, after eating
of the contents, the men were seized with violent purging and vomiting,
stupefaction, and inability to stand. Those who ate little became like
men very drunk, and those who ate much, like madmen, and some like
dying persons. In this condition great numbers lay upon the ground, as
if there had been a defeat. None of them died, and in about twenty-four
hours they recovered consciousness. On the third or fourth day after
the seizure they got up, but were like men who had taken powerful
physic.
Tournefort, when travelling in Asia Minor, recollecting these
historical circumstances, made careful investigations as to the
probabilities of the case. Two kinds of shrubs were pointed out to
him as bearing flowers, the honey from which was deleterious, and the
very odour of which is still said to produce headache. These plants
were the _rhododendron Ponticum_, and _azalea Pontica_, nearly allied
species, growing abundantly in that part of the world. Father Lamberti
corroborates Xenophon's description, by stating that similar effects
have been produced by the honey of Colchis, where these shrubs are
common.
We learn from an account published by Dr. Barton in the _American
Philosophical Transactions_, that, in the autumn of 1790, several
fatal cases occurred near Philadelphia, from eating honey collected in
the neighbourhood. An official investigation into the circumstances
led to the conviction that the source of the mischief lay in the
flowers of the _kalmia latifolia_ Still more recently, some persons
in New York lost their lives from, as it was supposed, eating honey
derived from the flowers of a species of dwarf laurel, common in the
vicinity. A further instance of the influence of the kalmia tribe of
flowers is given in the fact that honey drawn chiefly from the species
_latifolia_, in New Jersey, is unsaleable, from its intoxicating
qualities, though the bees themselves thrive prodigiously upon it.
Sometimes the colour is said to indicate the nature of the liquid,
that which is mischievous being distinguished by a reddish or brown
tinge; but this is by no means a sure indication of quality, for, in
Florida and Carolina, the wild honey having harmful properties is so
like in appearance that which is perfectly wholesome, that the hunters
at first eat very sparingly of their newly-found treasures, till they
have proved, by experimenting on themselves, what its properties are.
Again, some "blood-red honey," found in Abyssinia, is said to be quite
free from objectionable elements; and Linnæus tells us that the Swedish
honey from the heath-flowers is of a reddish hue, but excellent in
quality. That obtained in the Highlands of Scotland is occasionally
observed to have a brownish tinge, but no ill effects are found to
result from the use of it, though some have asserted that it has a
soporific influence.
There is little doubt that the colours of honey from different
localities vary according to the prevalence of flowers most frequently
visited by the bees. Its aroma and taste are influenced, as we might
suppose, by the same circumstances. As a natural result, we find also
that the excellence of the liquid depends much on the season at which
it is collected. The primest is the produce of the early summer. That
which is stored in spring excels what is gleaned in autumn. The produce
of the earlier part of the harvest is better than that which is stored
when flowers grow scarce and fruits are ripening.
The distances to which bees will travel in search of their
food-supplies are very astonishing. They have been proved to fly four
or five miles to favourite pasturage. A gentleman, wishing to test
this fact, dusted with fine flour his bees as they emerged from a
hive. Then driving to a heath five miles distant, which he knew to
be much frequented by the insects, he soon found many of those which
he had sprinkled at home. Their instinct, indeed, appears to lead
them considerably afield, and hence it is of slight use to plant,
as recommended by some writers, particular flowers near an apiary.
Moreover, unless such flowers are grown for seed purposes, or in very
large quantities, the amount of nutriment they will afford is almost
inappreciable.
Fields where the white or Dutch clover abounds, and heath districts,
are, perhaps, the finest sources of honey-supply. Our fruit blossoms of
almost all kinds also furnish abundant stores to the busy insects.
The uses of honey hardly require to be pointed out. Besides being an
agreeable addition to the breakfast or tea-table, as a substitute for
butter, it is often very serviceable as a laxative, when taken in
moderate quantity. It is frequently employed in medical confections, as
a vehicle for the administration of certain drugs; and its generally
wholesome properties have been thoroughly ascertained. Its use for the
manufacture of metheglin, or mead, is not now extensive, but in earlier
periods of British history this beverage was held in high esteem.
CHAPTER VII.
MEAD.
Nature--Method of Manufacture--Metheglin and Mead--Estimation in
former times--Queen Elizabeth's Recipe--Scandinavian liking for
Mead.
The sugar of various vegetables is susceptible of alcoholic
fermentation; so from the sugar of malt we get beer, from that of the
grape, wine. Honey is, as we have said, a substance containing sugar,
which may also be made to yield a vinous liquor. Usually only the
washings of drained combs are used up for the manufacture of mead. The
saccharine extract is skimmed, strained, and boiled. Then a certain
proportion of raisins is added, together with a little ground ginger,
and a few bay or laurel leaves for flavouring. A small quantity of
brewer's yeast sets up the necessary fermentation, and after the liquor
has been put into a barrel, and allowed to "work" for two or three
days, it is bunged up, and at the end of six months may be bottled,
and soon afterwards will be fit for use. Of course, run honey may be
used for the purpose, but its employment is a more expensive mode of
manufacture.
Properly speaking, the word "metheglin" was applied to the superior
sorts of mead, the two beverages being related much in the same way as
effervescing bottled cider and the ordinary draught cider.
Mead-making seems anciently to have been considered a matter of great
interest and importance, and we are told by old authors that the Court
brewer of this beverage for Princes of Wales was the physician of
the household, and ranked eleventh in point of dignity. Æthelstan,
King of Kent in the tenth century, on paying a visit to his relative
Æthelfleda, expressed his satisfaction that there was no stint of mead.
According to an antique rule of the Welsh Court, there were "three
things which must be communicated to the king before they were imparted
to any other person. First, every sentence of the judge; second, every
new song; and third, every cask of mead."
Queen Elizabeth was so fond of this beverage as to have it made
regularly every year; and her recipe has been preserved to our own day.
It may interest our readers to give it entire: "Take of sweetbriar
leaves and thyme each one bushel, rosemary half a bushel, bay leaves
one peck. Seethe these ingredients in a furnace full of water
[containing probably not less than 120 gallons], boil for half an hour;
pour the whole into a vat, and when cooled to a proper temperature
[about 75° Fahr.], strain. Add to every six gallons of the strained
liquor a gallon of fine honey, and work the mixture together for half
an hour. Repeat the stirring occasionally for two days; then boil the
liquor afresh, skim it till it becomes clear, and return it to the
vat to cool. When reduced again to a proper temperature [about 80°
Fahr.], pour it into a vessel from which fresh ale or beer has just
been emptied; let it work for three days, and then barrel it. When fit
[after fermentation] to be stopped down, tie up a bag of beaten cloves
and mace [half an ounce of each], and suspend it in the liquor from the
bung-hole. When it has stood for half a year, it will be fit for use."
Mead remained in favour long after the introduction of malt liquors,
and the northern inhabitants of Europe drank it habitually till
comparatively modern times. Even so late as Dryden's day, it would
appear to have been in much more common use than now: for he says of
its employment for tempering strong wines:--
"T'allay the strength and hardness of the wine,
Let with old Bacchus new metheglin join."
It was probably the liquor called by Ossian the joy and strength of
skulls, and which so much delighted his heroes. It was the ideal
nectar of the Scandinavian nations, which they expected to drink in
heaven, using the skulls of their enemies for goblets, while they were
to regale themselves also on boars' flesh. So we read in Penrose's
_Carousal of Odin_:--
"Fill the honeyed beverage high,
Fill the skulls, 'tis Odin's cry!
Heard ye not the powerful call,
Thundering through the vaulted hall?
Fill the meath, and spread the board,
Vassals of the grisly lord!
The feast begins, the skull goes round,
Laughter shouts the shouts resound."
A quantity of mead sufficient for the very mundane tastes of these
celestial heroes was supposed to be daily supplied by a goat, called
Heidruna, of whom Cottle says:--
"Whose spacious horn would fill the bowl
That raised to rapture Odin's soul;
And ever drinking--ever dry--
Still the copious stream supply."
CHAPTER VIII.
WAX.
Origin--Production--Chemical Constitution--Comb Building--Detailed
Description--Amount of Wax in Hives--Commercial Value--Properties.
[Illustration: Fig. 10.--A Worker Bee, showing the Scales of Wax.]
It was long thought that wax was a product derived, like honey,
immediately from flowers. Not only did popular ignorance suppose
that the pellets of pollen carried on the thighs of the worker-bees
consisted of this substance, but even some authors on apiculture fell
into the same error. It is now ascertained with certainty that wax is
a sort of animal fat, elaborated from honey by certain internal organs
of the bee. It exudes in a liquid form from sacklets on the under
side of each of the four intermediate ventral segments of the abdomen.
There are two of these pockets to each segment, one on either side of
the _carina_ or elevated central part. They are trapeziform in shape,
and impart the same form to the tiny plates which emerge from them.
On reaching the air the liquid thickens, and dries in flakes like
fish-scales. The secretion of wax is carried on by the workers only,
queens and drones being destitute of the apparatus necessary for the
purpose. No direct communication has been traced between the stomach
and the wax-sacks, but it has been conjectured by Hunter that the
secretion is effected by the network of vessels lining the receptacles
as a membrane covered with hexagonal cells, somewhat like the second
stomach of ruminating quadrupeds.
Chemically considered, wax consists entirely of carbon, oxygen,
and hydrogen; and, as before mentioned, is elaborated wholly from
honey. Some authors have maintained that pollen is necessary for its
production, but this is the case probably only indirectly; that is to
say, the nitrogenous constituent of pollen may be necessary for the
nutriment and stimulation of the secreting organs. It certainly does
not enter into the constitution of the wax itself.
The quantity of honey required for this process of wax-making is
very large. It is generally believed, in fact, to be from fifteen to
twenty times the weight of the material derived from it; in other
words, for every ounce of wax produced, at least a pound of honey is
consumed by the bees. During the oxygenation of so large a quantity of
saccharine matter, much heat is evolved a fact frequently noticed when
comb-building is going on rapidly in a hive.
[Illustration: Fig. 11.--Festoons of Bees Suspended from the Roof of
the Hive.]
When wax is required for the abode of a fresh swarm, or for filling up
vacant spaces with comb, the bees hang in festoons or chains, crossing
the hive in different directions. Remaining almost motionless for
about twenty-four hours, the wax-makers proceed with their business.
Then, as soon as the little scales are of the proper consistency, they
are withdrawn by the pincers on the hind legs of the bee, and carried
between the fore-legs to the mouth. There, worked up with a small
quantity of saliva, the substance is softened ready for use, and being
conveyed away by those who have prepared it, and deposited in small
masses, it furnishes the materials from which the comb-builders do
their share of the duties of the hive. Possibly some of the individuals
of the lower parts of the festoons, or clusters, may pass up their
portions of wax to those above them for transmission to the top of the
hive; but the fact is not thoroughly ascertained. Evans graphically
says:--
"Lo, filtered through yon flutterer's folded mail,
Clings the cooled wax, and hardens to a scale.
Swift, at her well-known call, the ready train
(For not a buzz boon Nature breathes in vain)
Spring to each falling flake, and bear along
Their glossy burdens to the builder-throng."
It often happens that the fine scales fall by accident, or perhaps,
when superabundant in quantity, on to the floor-boards of hives, and
it does not appear, from our observation, that those bees who happen
to come upon these little portions of material carry them up for
employment in cell-formation.
The wax is used in comb-building, and the subject is one of great
interest on many accounts, but especially from the following
considerations: the nature of the material; the organs by which it
is produced; the implements with which it is fashioned into shape;
the manner in which the work is done; the form of the cells, the
mathematical characters of which are most surprising; their different
sizes and shapes, according to the purposes for which they are
destined; their perfect adaptation to the needs of the bee community.
With regard to the nature of the material, in addition to the facts
already mentioned, we may note that it is a substance easily moulded,
especially when exposed to a gentle heat, such as is generated in a
hive. It is light, so as to add little to the weight of the contents
which will be stored in the cells. It is also a very slow conductor of
heat, a matter of great importance both in summer and in winter. For,
if it readily both absorbed and radiated heat, the temperature would,
in the former season, become too high; while, in the winter, too great
effort, and a large additional amount of food, would be needed by the
bees to keep up the temperature of the hive to a point of safety for
its inhabitants. Again, wax is a material which, by means of _propolis_
(of which we shall presently speak), admits of being fastened in
position so securely as to be able to bear a great weight of brood,
honey, and bee-bread, in the cells.
The organs by which wax is secreted, and the implements with which it
is fashioned, will be described fully in the chapter devoted to the
physiology and anatomy of the bee; but we may say here that they are
exceedingly simple, and that it is wonderful such beautiful work can be
accomplished by means of them.
But the manner in which comb-building is done is so marvellous, that
it merits a detailed description. It is to Huber that we are indebted
for the full exposition of this subject, and we cannot do better than
quote his account of the process, as given by Kirby and Spence. We must
premise, however, that the great naturalist thought there were two
distinct classes of workers, the one of which he called the wax-makers;
the other, the nurse-bees. Observations continued since his day have
rendered it certain that this is a mistaken distinction. As a general
rule the care of the young devolves, as we have already said, on the
most recently hatched of the community, who are unfit, for some days
after emerging from the cell, to take distant flight in search of
stores from flowers. The older and stronger workers, on the other hand,
go abroad for supplies, and then, on their return, secrete whatever wax
is needed in the economy of the hive.
[Illustration: Fig. 12.--Cluster of Bees.]
The process of comb-building is described by Huber as follows:--"The
wax-makers having taken a due portion of honey or sugar, from either
of which wax can be elaborated, suspend themselves to each other, the
claws of the fore-legs of the lowermost being attached to those of the
hind pair of the uppermost, and form themselves into a cluster, the
exterior layer of which looks like a kind of curtain. This cluster
consists of a series of festoons or garlands, which cross each other
in all directions, and in which most of the bees turn their back upon
the observer.... The wax-makers remain immovable for about twenty-four
hours, during which period the formation of wax takes place, and thin
laminæ of this material may be generally perceived under their abdomen.
[Illustration: Fig. 13.--Wax-Worker Commencing a Comb.]
"One of these bees is now seen to detach itself from one of the central
garlands of the cluster, to make a way amongst its companions to the
middle of the vault, or top of the hive, and by turning itself round
to form a kind of void, in which it can move itself freely. It then
suspends itself to the centre of the space which it has cleared, the
diameter of which is about an inch. It next seizes one of the laminæ
of wax with a pincer formed by the posterior metatarsus (last joint of
the leg), and tibia (last joint but two), and drawing it from beneath
the abdominal segments, one of the anterior legs takes it with its
claws and carries it to the mouth. This leg holds the lamina with
its claws vertically, the tongue rolled up serving for a support,
and by elevating it or depressing it at will, causes the whole of
its circumference to be exposed to the action of its mandibles (or
jaws), so that the margin is soon gnawed into pieces, which drop as
they are detached into the double cavity, bordered with hairs, of the
mandibles (jaws). These fragments, pressed by others newly separated,
fall on one side of the mouth, and issue from it in the form of a
narrow riband. They are then presented to the tongue, which impregnates
them with a frothy liquor like a _bouilli_. During this operation the
tongue assumes all sorts of forms; sometimes it is flattened like a
spatula, then like a trowel, which applies itself to the riband of
wax. At other times it resembles a pencil terminating in a point.
After having moistened the whole of the riband, the tongue pushes it
to make it re-enter the mandibles, but in an opposite direction, where
it is worked up anew. The liquor mixed with the wax communicates to
it a whiteness and opacity which it had not before; and the object of
this mixture, which did not escape the observation of Réaumur, is,
doubtless, to give it that ductility and tenacity which it possesses in
its perfect state.
"The foundress-bee--the name which this first beginner of a comb
deserves--next applies these prepared parcels of wax against the vault
(or top of a frame) of the hive, disposing them with the point of her
mandibles in the direction which she wishes them to take; and she
continues these manœuvres until she has employed the whole lamina that
she had separated from her body, when she takes a second, proceeding in
the same manner. She gives herself no care to compress the molecules of
wax which she has heaped together. She is satisfied if they adhere to
each other. At length she leaves her work, and is lost in the crowd
of her companions. Another succeeds and resumes the employment, then
a third. All follow the same plan of placing their little masses, and
if any one, by chance, gives them a contrary direction, another coming
removes them to their proper place.
"The result of all these operations is a mass or little wall of wax,
with uneven surfaces, five or six lines (twelfths of an inch) long, two
lines high, and half a line thick, which descends perpendicularly. In
this first work is no angle nor any trace of the figure of the cells.
It is a simple partition in a right line without any inflection.
"The wax-makers having thus laid a foundation of a comb, are succeeded
by the nurse-bees [here Huber is wrong[2]], which are alone competent
to model and perfect the work. The former are the labourers, who convey
the stone and mortar; the latter the masons, who work them up into
the form which the intended structure requires. One of these bees now
places itself horizontally on the vault (or bar-frame) of the hive,
its head corresponding to the centre of the mass or wall which the
wax-makers have left, and which is to form the partition of the comb
into two opposite assemblages of cells; and with its mandibles (jaws),
rapidly moving its head, it moulds in that side of the wall a cavity
which is to form the base of one of the cells, to the diameter of which
it is equal. When it has worked some minutes it departs, and another
takes its place, deepening the cavity, heightening its lateral margins
by heaping up the wax to right and left, by means of its teeth and
fore-feet, and giving to them a more upright form. More than twenty
bees successively employ themselves in this work.
[Footnote 2: See remark immediately preceding the quotation.]
"When arrived at a certain point, other bees begin on the yet untouched
and opposite side of the mass, and commencing the bottom of two cells,
are in turn relieved by others. While still engaged in this labour
the wax-makers return, and add to the mass, augmenting its extent in
every way, the builders again continuing their operations. After having
worked the bottom of the cells of the first row into their proper
forms, they polish them, and give them their finish, while others begin
the outline of a new series.
"The cells themselves, or prisms, which result from the reunion and
meeting of the sides, are next constructed. These are engrafted on the
borders of the cavities hollowed in the mass. The bees begin them by
making the contour of the bottoms, which is at first unequal, of equal
height. Thus all the margins of the cells offer an uniformly level
surface from their first origin, and until they have acquired their
proper length. The sides are heightened in an order analogous to that
which the insects follow in finishing the bottom of the cells, and the
length of these tubes is so perfectly proportioned that there is no
observable inequality between them."
* * * * *
Thus writes the great Swiss observer of bees. Without quoting at
greater length from his published observations, we may give some
additional particulars relating to the geometrical characters of
honey-comb.
The cells of the first row laid down are pentagonal in shape. This
gives them a stronger attachment to the hive than if they had had
the hexagonal figure of the succeeding rows. But no form besides the
six-sided prism would have answered all the conditions of the problem
"how with the least expenditure of material to secure the greatest
available space with the best arrangement for the purposes to be
served."
[Illustration: Fig. 14.--Diagram of Cells.]
[Illustration: Fig. 15.--Supposed Circular Cells.]
Approached from the purely theoretical side, the question has been
investigated by mathematicians. It requires no great acumen to
determine that a hexagon of some sort is the geometrical figure which
must be adopted. An equilateral triangle would make a very unsuitable
abode for an insect with a nearly round body. A square cell would
hardly be more convenient. A series of circles would, of course, leave
interstices between them, causing a useless expenditure of space,
material, time and strength. A further difficulty would arise with
regard to the storage of the honey, which finds points of attachment in
the angles of a hexagon, and so is less liable to run out of the cells.
[Illustration: Fig. 16.--Arrangement of Cells.]
The next matter then to settle is, the magnitude of the angles at
which the sides of the hexagon should slope towards each other, so as
to be the most advantageous. Réaumur put the problem in mathematical
language before M. König, a skilful geometrician, thus:--"To determine
by calculations what ought to be the angle of a hexagonal cell, with a
pyramidal bottom, formed of three similar and equal rhomboid plates,
so that the least matter possible might enter into its construction."
The result of his investigations was that the angles of the rhombs
must be 109° 26′ and 70° 34′. Cramer, professor of mathematics in the
University of Geneva, also undertook the problem. His calculations,
made on somewhat different principles from König's, gave for the
angles 109° 28′ 16″, and 70° 31′ 44″. Maraldi, a third mathematician,
assuming the equality of the angles of the trapezia forming the
sides of the hexagon adjacent to the rhombs and those of the rhombs
themselves, and that the solid angle at the apex of the pyramid,
composed of equal obtuse angles, is precisely equal to each of the
three angles at the base, also composed of three equal obtuse angles,
came to the conclusion that the angles must be 109° 28′ and 70° 32′.
These three sets of results, so remarkably accordant, when we consider
the minuteness of the differences between them, in figures so small as
the actual honey-comb cells, show the closest correspondence to the
actual measurements of the work of the bees. Maraldi found the angles
of the latter to be 110° and 70°, as nearly as could be ascertained.
We have dwelt at some length upon this point, because it illustrates,
in a most marvellous manner, the power of that inborn faculty we call
instinct, which arrives, without training, at results so precisely
agreeing with those of the highest efforts of our intellectual
reasonings. To the devout mind, the conclusion is inevitable that
Divine Wisdom is the inspiring force which energizes the mental
operations of the bees in their cell-building.
A further advantage of the actual shape of the honey-comb prisms is
that, thereby, strength is combined with economy. No other form would
so efficiently have carried the heavy weights constantly stored in the
forms of honey, brood, and bee-bread.
The bottoms and sides of the cells are made of wax as thin as a sheet
of writing-paper; but as walls of this thinness at the entrances would
break down under the weight of the constantly passing insects, the
margin at the opening of each cell is made four or five times thicker
than the walls. Then, as the cells are lengthened, this thickness is
reduced, always remaining the same, however, at the actual margins.
Dr. Barclay also discovered that, though the tenuity of the divisions
is so great, each, in point of fact, consists of two distinct layers
agglutinated together. This gives, again, an increase of strength, as
any practical builder would know who, in his "bressummers," adopts
the same method of attaining lightness and power of sustaining great
weights.
[Illustration: Fig. 17.--Diagram Showing Slope of Cells.]
The actual size of the cells in a hive varies considerably, as we might
expect. Without regarding those for queen-progeny, we should anticipate
that those in which young drones are to be developed would be
considerably larger than those prepared for workers. This is, indeed,
the case. But as an abrupt change from the one kind to the other would
be impossible without waste, the bees prudently graduate the difference
by interposing a suitable series of intermediate sizes, whose bottoms,
of course, have to depart from the normal conditions, and sometimes
consist of two rhomboids and two hexagons, varying in size and form,
and corresponding with four, instead of three, opposite cells. In
these, stores are often found, instead of brood. If eggs are laid in
them, they are generally those which will develop into males, and the
space for development being smaller than usual, the drones occupying
such cells are not so large as the average size.
As a rule, the hexagonal ends of twenty-seven worker cells, or nineteen
drone cells, occupy a surface of one square inch. All the cells lie
not quite horizontally, but sloping slightly downwards from the mouth
towards the bases. This arrangement is designed to prevent the honey
from easily flowing out. As the cells are filled with the liquid, the
lower edge of each is first raised, and, in due time, the whole of the
once open end is sealed over with a coating of wax mixed with a little
propolis. This covering not only keeps the contents from running out,
but prevents fermentation or candying, from contact with the air.
Each comb consists of a double layer of cells, back to back, and
forming a sort of flat cake. At first this is lenticular in shape, the
middle part being advanced rather more rapidly than the ends.
It is a curious fact that the bees do not, on being put into a hive, or
when working in a bell-glass, begin several combs at once; but, having
thoroughly laid the foundation of one, and having made some progress
with this, they then start one on each side of the first, and, after
a time, one on the outer side of each of the last begun. Usually,
therefore, the combs hang in parallel series. If any obstruction
occurs, a deviation from the normal direction takes place, but,
manifest intelligence is shown in surmounting the difficulty, whatever
it may be.
[Illustration: Fig. 18.--Arrangement of Combs in a Bell-Glass.]
At first, the substance of the cells is of a dull, semi-transparent,
white colour, soft, and very brittle. After a time, a yellow tinge
spreads over the comb, and, with age, this hue deepens to brown, and if
some years old, becomes almost black. The colour, therefore, furnishes
a tolerably safe guide as to the age of comb. The darkening seems due,
partly to a chemical change from contact with the air, but still more
to the constant traffic of the bees over it, and its getting smeared
with dirt and propolis.
It occasionally happens that, owing to a great in-flow of honey, the
weight of the combs endangers their security, and the bees, seeing
the danger of their breaking down, resort to a most clever method
of rendering their treasures safe. Gnawing away a small part of the
topmost row of the combs on one side, they lay a broader foundation,
and then, with a strongly glutinous mixture of wax and propolis, they
fasten afresh the upper cells to their points of attachment. Having
completed one side, they then proceed in the same way with the other,
till they are satisfied of the firmness of the whole structure.
Again, if the supply of food outruns the capacity of their store-houses
as first made, they will often lengthen the cells, till, especially in
the case of _supers_, they reach the length of even two inches--more
than twice the normal size.
[Illustration: Fig. 19.--The Queen Cell.]
The _queen-cells_ are remarkably distinguished from those for workers
or drones, in respect to size, direction, shape, and amount of
material. They occupy at least as much space as half a dozen ordinary
cells. They are directed downwards, instead of lying horizontally. They
are irregularly oval or pyriform in shape, and are made up of a sort
of mosaic of wax, which material, so sparingly used elsewhere, seems
lavished on the royal nurseries. The reasons for this are, probably,
to secure the young queens from danger while passing through the
larval and pupal conditions, and to keep up the warmth necessary for
their more rapid development. Wax being a very bad conductor of heat,
the thick walls prevent the chilling of the brood, and, at the same
time, allow of considerable clustering of nurse-bees, and consequent
generation of warmth, without the danger of the cells being broken down
by the pressure.
[Illustration: Fig. 20.--Queen Cells in Situ.]
Bees-wax forms a not unimportant article of commerce. From Germany,
Greece, Cyprus, and still more largely from North America, we derive
what is needed to make up the deficiency in our home production of it.
Its uses are numerous. For household purposes, especially for polishing
furniture, for some varnishes and unguents, for candles and matches,
for modelling, particularly in dentistry, it is consumed in great
quantities. Since the introduction of paraffin and similar substances
for lighting purposes, the amount used for candles has diminished,
though the demand for it in other directions does not appear to have
fallen off. Bee-keepers now use it greatly for "foundation-comb."
CHAPTER IX.
POLLEN, OR BEE-BREAD.
Origin--Collection--Conveyance--Deposition--Quantity Stored--
Uses--Artificial Substitutes.
Honey consists, like most saccharine substances, of carbon, oxygen, and
hydrogen. It is fitted, therefore, as a food to supply the waste in
the body of the bee produced by respiration; but for the nourishment
of muscular tissue, and so for the growth of the larvæ and pupæ, some
nitrogenous material is required. This is obtained by the insects from
the pollen of flowers. This substance, we need hardly say, is the
fertilising powder necessary for the production of seeds in plants, and
growing on the anthers, or tops of the stamens, within the corolla of
most flowers. The workers in search of honey rub off this farina with
their hairy bodies and with the bristles of their legs. Then, on taking
wing, they clear it off by rapid combings of their limbs; and rolling
the powder into little pellets, they deposit it in pockets situated
on the outside of the middle joint of the hindmost pair of legs. When
filled, these receptacles with their loads appear like coloured balls
on the laden workers. Sometimes the bees get so covered with pollen
from plants containing large quantities of it, that they cannot clear
themselves of the powder till they return to their homes; and, in some
cases, they need the assistance of their fellows to brush off what
adheres too tightly, or in places not easily reached by the individual
herself.
[Illustration: Fig. 21.--Hind-leg of a Bee.]
When the pollen-laden bee has reached the combs, she searches for a
cell already containing the same material as that she is carrying, or
which is suitable for her purpose. Then, having found what she wants,
she inserts her hindmost legs into the cell, and, by a dexterous
movement, detaches the little balls, and, on retiring, gives herself
some vigorous shakes, as if to clear herself of still adherent
flower-dust. Then another worker, whose duty it is to see to the proper
storing of the bee-bread, rams it down with her head into a compact
mass, and the process goes on till the cell is filled.
No particular portion of the combs seems selected for the deposit of
this substance, nor is it ascertained that what is procured from any
particular kind of plant is placed apart; but a mixture of various
pollens appears to be made, though during the prevalence of any special
flower yielding the material, certain colours predominate, as might be
expected, in the stores of bee-bread.
The quantities collected by a prosperous colony must be very great.
Some writers put the amount at twenty pounds in the course of a season.
The carrying in of this produce is usually a sure sign that there is
brood in the hive. The absence of a supply going in generally raises
the suspicion that no young are developing, owing to the loss of
the queen. The amount seen to be carried in is, therefore, a rough
indication of the prosperity of the community.
In early seasons its collection begins as soon as February. During
April and May, _i.e._ in the height of the blossoming time, the largest
quantities are stored; and this period corresponds with the most rapid
and extensive increase of the population of the hive.
The nurse-bees take some portion of the pollen immediately it is
brought in, and, working it up with honey and saliva, prepare the food
for the larvæ. In some cases, they partially digest it before giving
it to the young brood. It is believed that the queen, when laying her
thousands of eggs, needs copious supplies of nitrogenous nutriment,
and that her attendants diligently feed her with honey mixed with
bee-bread, which has been partly prepared in their stomachs for quick
assimilation in the body of their monarch.
When plant-blossoms are scarce, the skilful apiarian supplies his stock
with some substitute for pollen. Dr. Dzierzon was the first to propose
fine rye-meal for this purpose; and he was led to make the suggestion
by having noticed, that, in the early spring, before flowers were
blooming in sufficient quantity to satisfy the wants of his bees, they
entered a neighbouring mill, and returned to their hives well powdered
with rye-flour. Pea-meal has been tried with much success for this
purpose. The method of using it recommended is to put the meal into a
soup-plate, or shallow dish or trough, among shavings. The bees may
be enticed to take to it by a little honey placed on the rim of the
receptacle, or by showing a few individuals the way to it. When once
the treasure has been discovered by the workers, they make abundant
visits to it. They, indeed, prefer the pea-flour to the old stores of
bee-bread remaining in the hive; but, so soon as the natural supplies
of the plant-blossoms are sufficient in amount for the wants of the
brood, the substitute is quite neglected.
In extracting honey from combs by pressure, it is well to avoid any
admixture of the bee-bread, as its taste is by no means a pleasant
addition to the flavour of the sweet liquid. By using any of the
"extractor" machines now in vogue, all danger of having the pollen
mingled with the honey is avoided.
CHAPTER X.
PROPOLIS.
Derivation of Word--Sources--Nature--Purposes--Quantity
Collected--Adaptation of Materials to Wants of Bees.
Another substance carried in, and largely used by the bees, is an
exceedingly sticky material called propolis, from two Greek words
signifying "before the city," as it was observed, in early times, that
it was employed in strengthening the outworks of their fortress-home,
or, at least, in firmly securing the rim of their hives to their
floor-boards.
It was formerly a matter of considerable discussion whether this
substance was a natural vegetable product, or whether it was
elaborated, as wax is. There is now little doubt that it is chiefly a
sort of resin derived from plants, and especially from the leaf-buds of
certain kinds, like the horse-chestnut, the alder, birch, willow, and
hollyhock. Huber, to whom we are indebted for so many interesting and
careful observations on apiculture, tried the experiment of placing in
pots branches of the poplar, before the buds had opened, and these he
put near his apiary. The bees, settling on them, separated the folds
of the largest buds, extracted the resinous matter in threads, loaded
it on their thighs, as they do pollen, and carried it to their hives.
In the spring one may often notice a loud humming round the foliage
of deodars, firs, and other coniferæ; and some wonder may, at first,
be felt as to what the busy insects can want from such absolutely
honeyless trees. When we remember the turpentinous exudations which are
so abundant in these cone-bearers, all difficulty disappears. It is
for supplies of propolis the workers are searching. Evans says on this
subject:--
"With merry hum the willow's copse they scale,
The fir's dark pyramid, or poplar pale;
Scoop from the alder's leaf its oozy flood,
Or strip the chestnut's resin-coated bud,
Skim the light tear that tips Narcissus' ray,
Or round the hollyhock's hoar fragrance play."
It is most probable that, with the resinous substances collected from
trees, they knead up a certain proportion of wax, to increase the
tenacity. The resulting product is one of extraordinarily glutinous
quality. With it the bees stop every chink and crack and cranny in
their abodes. With it they stick down skeps to floor-boards, fasten,
if they can, frames to the top of bar-hives, firmly fix the combs to
their points of attachment, strengthen weak places in their dwellings,
and, in some cases, where glass has been inserted in the walls of hives
for observation purposes, the panes are found completely coated with
propolis, so as to exclude the light.
In colour, this cement is greenish yellow, darkening with age to brown.
Its odour is balsamic and somewhat powerful, resembling that of storax.
It was formerly supposed to possess medicinal properties, and was kept
in the shop of the apothecary. When smeared on the fingers, it is very
difficult of removal. Soap has no effect upon it; water fails to wash
it off; but spirits of wine readily dissolve it, and are the most easy
and effectual means of getting it off the skin.
Bees usually choose the middle of the day for gathering this substance,
as the warmth of the air, by softening the resinous material,
facilitates the obtaining of it from the trees, and prevents its too
speedy hardening before it reaches the hives. Sometimes, indeed, the
resin becomes so firm in consistency by the time the collectors of it
get home, that they require the assistance of their fellow-workers to
detach it from their thighs.
One very remarkable use to which propolis is occasionally put by
the bees, is for the covering up of mice, snails, frogs, or other
intruders, whose expulsion is impossible, or who have died after
entering the hives. Réaumur relates that, on one occasion, he observed
a snail thus glued down to a piece of glass in one of his hives; and,
in another instance, where a slug had been stung to death, and was
far too large for removal by the insects, these clever sanitarians
completely enveloped the mollusc with a coating of propolis-varnish, to
prevent the emanation of any noxious vapours when decomposition set in.
It was, in fact, a distinct instance of embalming. Huish mentions that
a mouse was similarly treated by one of his stocks of bees.
The quantity of propolis collected is sometimes very large,
particularly where spaces are left at the top, sides, or bottoms of
bee-dwellings. At present, this substance has not been turned to any
serviceable human use.
In reviewing these various products gathered or elaborated by bees, we
cannot fail to be struck with the marvellous adaptation of different
materials to the wants of the community, the skill displayed in the
application of them to the general purposes of the commonwealth; and,
above all, the wondrous suitability of means to ends, shown by the
workers of the hive. If we refuse to allow the possession of reason
to these extraordinary insects, we must admit the existence in them
of some faculty almost more to be admired; and, in any case, we can
but bow in reverence before the all-comprehensive Divine wisdom
and goodness, which have endowed creatures so small with powers so
surprising which have made them subservient to human needs or comfort,
and which have enabled the bees to work even to better advantage
under the tutelage of man, than when left to their natural habits and
surroundings.
CHAPTER XI.
PHYSIOLOGY OF THE BEE.
Nervous System--The Head--Eyes--Compound and Simple--Uses and
Powers--Sir John Lubbock's Experiments--The Antennæ--Structure
and Uses--Mouth--Detailed Description.
Before proceeding to detail the most important facts connected with the
internal economy of the hive, it will be desirable to describe with
some minuteness the physiology and anatomy of the inhabitants, so that
it may be more easy to understand the means by which various processes
are accomplished, and the most important events of the community are
brought about. Much that has been hitherto said will become more
readily comprehended by attention to the structure of the various
organs we are now about to describe.
It will hardly be necessary to enter into a more minute account, than
we have already given, of the egg, the larva, and the pupa. We shall,
therefore, confine ourselves to detailing the most interesting points
in the physiology of the perfect insect.
It has been noted, in an earlier chapter, that the members of this
division of the animal kingdom are characterised by having three very
distinct segments in their bodies the head, the thorax, and the
abdomen. As the nature and arrangement of the nervous system forms one
of the soundest bases of classification in the highest of the three
kingdoms in nature, we shall first direct attention, in each case, to
this all-important matter of detail.
[Illustration: Fig. 22.--Nervous System of Privet Hawk-moth.]
[Illustration: Fig. 23.--Nervous System of Larva of Bee.]
The general arrangement of the nerve-matter in the sub-kingdom
_Articulata_, to which all true insects belong, is that of a double
cord, with knot-like protuberances, called _ganglia_, at more or
less regular intervals. The two filaments are in some cases close
together: in others, quite distinct; while the larger nerve-masses--the
previously mentioned _ganglia_--also vary in juxtaposition, according
to the greater or less importance of the functions they regulate.
In the illustration of the larva of _Sphinx ligustri_ (the privet
hawk-moth) (Fig. 22), the nervous cord is nearly uniform throughout its
length, though at its upper portion a separation takes place into three
loops. The ganglia also occur at almost equal distances. A very similar
disposition of the nerve-structure is seen in the larval condition of
the bee; but we may note the absence of loops, the larger development
of the cephalic masses, without the separation of their filaments
to inclose the gullet together with a more plainly-defined distance
between the cords which run parallel through the rest of the body.
[Illustration: Fig. 24.--Nervous System of Perfect Insect.]
In the perfect insect we observe some decided modifications to have
taken place. The head portions have grown proportionally larger, and
show a loop for the passage of the œsophagus, while two large ganglia
in the thorax indicate the seat of impressions and impulses connected
with the organs of motion--wings and legs--which had no existence in
the larval condition. As the functions of the abdominal region, viz.,
those of digestion and circulation chiefly, remain much the same in the
different states through which the individual passes after the hatching
of the egg, we find, as we might expect, little change in the nervous
system of the posterior segment of the body.
From each nerve-mass will be observed filaments branching on either
side to the outer edges of the body. By means of these communication
is kept up between all parts of the frame. Sensations are received and
conveyed to the sensorial organs, and return-stimuli are sent to the
organs whose movements depend for regulation on the different ganglia.
This branching of the nerve-fibre is directly proportional to the
variety and force of the several functions subserved by the various
structures to which they proceed.
_The Head._--We will now describe in some detail the structure and
functions of the highly-important organs contained in the anterior
segment, or head. And first in order let us take the
_Eyes._--On either side of the head may be observed an oval lobe,
convexly rounded and immovable, brown in colour, covered with a horny
tunicle, and exhibiting to the unassisted eye a vast number of distinct
points. These points, under a high-power magnifying-glass, are seen to
be facets, hexagonal in shape, so as to occupy all available space,
without interstices, and each connected with a minute tube and a
thread of nerve-matter leading to the cephalic ganglia or brain. These
compound eyes, as they are called, are common to most true insects.
They may be easily seen in flies, bluebottles, moths, butterflies,
&c. The numbers of the facets vary greatly in different families of
the _Articulata_. In the common house-fly there are, it is stated,
about 4,000; in the white cabbage-butterfly, 17,000; in the dragon-fly,
24,000. It has been computed that in each compound eye of the bee there
are about 3,500 of them.
[Illustration: Fig. 25.--Eyes of a Bee, Greatly Magnified.]
Behind the horny covering, or cornea, which consists of two
plano-convex lenses, is a layer of dark pigment, which gives the
characteristic colour to these eyes. This is pointed like the neck of
a vase, and serves the purpose of the iris in the higher animals. This
is traversed by a minute aperture or pupil, through which the rays pass
by a longer conical lens to the optic nerve. A vertical section shows
that each ocellus (or _little eye_) is the frustum of a pyramid, the
large end or base of which is bounded by the cornea, while the other
and pointed end terminates against an expansion of the optic nerve.
The eminent physiologist, Dr. W. B. Carpenter, says, in describing
the minute structure of these organs: "The interior of this pyramid
is occupied by a transparent substance, which represents the vitreous
humour (of the eyes of vertebrates), and the pyramids are separated
from each other by a layer of dark pigment, which completely incloses
them, save at the pupillary apertures, and also at a corresponding set
of apertures at their smaller ends, where the pigment is perforated by
the fibres of the optic nerve, of which one proceeds to each separate
eye.
[Illustration: Fig. 26.--Facets of Eye of a Bee.]
"Each facet, or 'corneule' of the common cornea, is convex on both
its surfaces, and thus acts as a lens, the focus of which has been
ascertained, by experiment, to be equivalent to the length of the
transparent pyramid behind it; so that the image produced by the lens
will fall upon the extremity of the filament of the optic nerve, which
passes to its truncated end. The rays which have passed through the
several 'corneules' are prevented from mixing with each other by means
of the layer of black pigment which surrounds each cone; and thus, no
rays, except those which correspond with the axis of the cone, can
reach the fibres of the optic nerve. Hence it is evident that each
separate eye must have an extremely limited range of vision, being
adapted to receive but a very small pencil of rays proceeding from a
single point in any object; and as these eyes are immovable, they would
afford but very imperfect information of the position of surrounding
objects, were it not for their enormous multiplication, by which a
separate eye, so to speak, is provided for each point to be viewed. No
two of these, save those upon the opposite sides of the head, which
are directed exactly forwards, can form an image of the same point
at the same time; but the combined action of all of them may give
to the insect, it may be imagined, as distinct a picture as that we
obtain by a very different organisation." We venture to suggest that
another reason for the vast multiplication of the numbers of "ocelli"
is to enable the insects to see in what would be to us darkness.
Nearly all the operations carried on in the interior of the hives are
done, during the day-time, in very dim light; and in the night-time,
when work is by no means intermitted, there would, to _our_ eyes, be
absolute darkness. To the bees, however, the scanty rays received by
so many sensitive points may be sufficient to enable them to see with
considerable clearness. If the simple enlargement of a single pupil,
such as takes place in us on emerging from a strong into a dim light,
makes so great a difference in our power of vision a fact with which
we are all familiar on going from a well-lighted room into what seems
for the first few seconds complete darkness we may well believe that
the permanent means of entry into the sensorium of an immense number
of separate rays may give greatly enlarged powers of seeing scantily
illuminated objects.
Still, an opposite view is held by many naturalists, for it seems very
doubtful whether there is any power in the bee of focusing these eyes,
so as to adapt their range to different distances. The probability is
that no such faculty of adjustment exists in them. We should expect
this from the structure of the visual apparatus. Yet it seems possible
that the compound eyes act as telescopes, and serve for great range of
vision, but not for near objects. For, while bees dart homewards from
far-off fields with the directness of an arrow, they will frequently
fly against persons or things in the direct line of their course,
without apparently having seen them at a little distance off. Moreover,
when they have alighted within an inch or two of the entrance to
their hives, they often fail to perceive its position, and constantly
wander to one side or the other, searching for their way in. We might
conclude, therefore, that these compound eyes confer distinctness of
vision afar, and possibly ability to use up scanty light, rather than
any great discernment of objects near at hand.
In addition to these "facetted" eyes, bees have, on the top of the
head, three simple ones, called by some writers "coronets," by others
"stemmata." Their position and arrangement are shown at _g_ in Fig.
27, p. 98. The focal length of their lens is said to be short, and
they are supplied with numerous filaments from the optic ganglia.
The special purpose of these simple organs is not well ascertained.
If their focal length is short, this would seem to imply that their
range of vision is also very limited. But it is very possible they may
possess a focusing power, which would adapt them for seeing at all
distances. Réaumur thinks they may, with their hemispherical lens, act
as microscopes. This point needs further investigation, as the subject
of the uses of these two kinds of visual apparatus is, at present, very
far from satisfactorily elucidated. One remarkable fact relating to
the "stemmata" must be mentioned. It is that, if they be covered with
a little opaque paint, the bee, on being let go, will fly continually
upwards. Dr. W. B. Carpenter considers this curious fact due to
automatic movements initiated by the ganglia connected with flight,
uncontrolled by the visual impressions which the simple eyes convey in
their natural condition. Neither kind of eye has a lid, but both are
protected from dust by numerous small hairs growing round them, and in
the points of junction of the facets.
How far the eyes of bees enable them to distinguish colours is still
a moot point. On _a priori_ grounds we should expect that one very
definite object in the hues of flowers is to attract the notice of
insects, just as we have strong reason to believe that odours exhaled
in the vegetable world serve this purpose. Sir John Lubbock has
detailed a series of experiments on this point, the following summary
of which is abstracted from his work on _Ants, Bees, and Wasps_. He
says, p. 304: "In recording the results I marked down successively the
order in which the bee went to the different-coloured glasses (on which
honey was placed). For instance, in the first journey from the nest,
as recorded below, the bee lit first on the blue, which accordingly
I marked I; when the blue was removed, she flew about a little, and
then lit on the white; when the white was removed she settled on the
green; and so on successively on the orange, yellow, plain, and red.
I repeated the experiment a hundred times, using two different hives
one in Kent, and one in Middlesex and spreading the observations over
some time, so as to experiment with different bees, and under varied
circumstances. Adding the numbers together, it, of course, follows that
the greater the preference shown for each colour, the lower will be the
number standing against it.
"The following table gives the first day's observations _in extenso_:--
+---------+------+-------+-------+--------+-----+-------+--------+
| | | | Plain | | | | |
|Journeys.| Blue.| Green.| Glass.| Orange.| Red.| White.| Yellow.|
+---------+------+-------+-------+--------+-----+-------+--------+
| 1 | 1 | 3 | 6 | 4 | 7 | 2 | 5 |
| 2 | 5 | 4 | 7 | 6 | 1 | 2 | 3 |
| 3 | 1 | 4 | 7 | 6 | 5 | 3 | 2 |
| 4 | 2 | 4 | 6 | 7 | 5 | 1 | 3 |
| 5 | 1 | 4 | 7 | 2 | 6 | 5 | 3 |
| 6 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 6 | 5 | 4 | 7 |
| 7 | 2 | 1 | 4 | 7 | 3 | 5 | 6 |
| 8 | 3 | 4 | 6 | 2 | 7 | 5 | 1 |
| 9 | 5 | 1 | 7 | 4 | 6 | 3 | 2 |
| 10 | 1 | 6 | 7 | 5 | 3 | 2 | 4 |
| 11 | 4 | 6 | 5 | 2 | 7 | 3 | 1 |
| +------+-------+-------+--------+-----+-------+--------+
| | 26 | 39 | 65 | 51 | 55 | 35 | 37 |
+---------+------+-------+-------+--------+-----+-------+--------+
"In the next series of experiments the bees had been trained for three
weeks to come to a particular spot on a large lawn, by placing from
time to time honey on a piece of plain glass. This naturally gave the
plain glass an advantage; nevertheless, as will be seen, the blue
still retained its pre-eminence. It seems hardly necessary to give the
observations in detail. The following table shows the general result:--
+-----------+------+-----+------+-------+------+-----+-------+-------+
| |No. of| | | | | | | |
| Series. | Exp. |Blue.|Green.|Orange.|Plain.| Red.| White.|Yellow.|
+-----------+------+-----+------+-------+------+-----+-------+-------+
|1st. | 11 | 26 | 39 | 51 | 65 | 55 | 35 | 37 |
|2nd. May 30| 15 | 38 | 57 | 59 | 72 | 66 | 58 | 70 |
|3rd. July 2| 16 | 44 | 76 | 82 | 73 | 53 | 53 | 67 |
|4th. " 4| 15 | 43 | 61 | 64 | 80 | 66 | 50 | 56 |
|5th. " 5| 10 | 36 | 47 | 39 | 40 | 40 | 36 | 42 |
|6th. " 6| 2 | 2 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 14 | 6 | 7 |
|7th. " 20| 11 | 33 | 39 | 50 | 47 | 49 | 41 | 49 |
|8th. " 23| 10 | 31 | 46 | 48 | 52 | 37 | 35 | 31 |
|9th. " 25| 10 | 22 | 54 | 38 | 52 | 33 | 35 | 46 |
| +------+-----+------+-------+------+-----+-------+-------+
| | 100 | 275 | 427 | 440 | 491 | 413 | 349 | 405 |
+-----------+------+-----+------+-------+------+-----+-------+-------+
"The precautions taken seem to me to have placed the colours on an
equal footing; while the number of experiments appears sufficient to
give a fair average." As this table differs in form from the other, it
may be as well to explain the first _line_ of figures in illustration
of the whole. The first series consisted of eleven experiments. The
preferences were noted as before, and when the numbers indicating
these were added up, the results were that twenty-six represented the
total for the blue glass, thirty-nine for the green, fifty-one for
the orange, sixty-five for the plain glass, fifty-five for the red,
thirty-five for the white, and thirty-seven for the yellow the blue
being again manifestly the most attractive colour to the bees. Some
practical bee-keepers consider the question by no means settled. The
field is doubtless open for further exploration.
_The Antennæ._ In the front part of the head are two organs,
which appear to supplement, in some remarkable way, probably by
touch-sensations, the power of vision, and also to possess other
capabilities constituting a sense to which _we_ have nothing strictly
analogous. These organs are called _antennæ_. They spring from origins
near together, at equal distances from the medial and anterior point of
the head, and are connected, by distinct and somewhat large filaments,
with the nerve matter forming the cephalic ganglia. Externally they
consist, first, of one segment nearest the head, much longer than the
rest. This part is called the _scape_. Then, forming a sort of elbow
with it, is the _flagellum_, consisting of eleven joints in queens and
workers, and of twelve in the drones. These segments are tubular, and
so attached to each other as to give the greatest possible freedom of
motion. Their extremities are wonderfully sensitive, and it is probable
that there is a very delicate power of feeling in each of the joints.
For the cleansing of these organs, special provision is made in the
construction of the fourth and fifth joints of the most forward pair of
legs. At the anterior part of the tibia, or fourth joint, is a spur,
within, and at the base of, which is a small angular projection, called
the _velum_ or _sail_. At the base of the next joint, and opposite
the play of this _velum_, is found a deep notch. From the fact of its
being fringed with hairs, this is called the _curry-comb_. Upon this
notch the velum can act at the will of the insect, and, when shut over
one another, they form a circular orifice, just large enough to take
the antennæ. When the latter organ needs cleansing, it is laid within
the notch: the velum is pressed over it, and being drawn through the
round space, dust and other soilures are removed from its surface.
So particular are the bees about keeping their antennæ thoroughly
clean, that they may often be observed continuing this operation of
drawing them through the curry-comb till perfectly satisfied with their
condition. Doubtless, the delicate nature of the impressions to which
these organs are susceptible, supplies the reason for the care taken in
freeing them from all extraneous substances.
The uses served by the antennæ are various and very remarkable. Their
first function seems to be to supplement vision. Endowed with exceeding
flexibility, they are kept by the insects in constant motion; and when
their eyes fail to guide them to particular spots, such as the entrance
to the hive, or as to the nature of objects with which they come into
contact, the antennæ appear to supply the necessary information.
There is little doubt that these "horns" or "feelers," as they are
commonly called, are sensitive, also, to impressions from objects at
some distance. Vibrations of the air too feeble to affect our organs
affect them. It may even be that other qualities of the atmosphere are
apprehended by them. The shape of the cells; the suitability of these
for brood of various kinds, for honey or for bee-bread, is ascertained
by the antennæ. Every want and every duty is recognised by them; the
presence or absence of the queen is discovered by their use, and
intelligence is conveyed from one individual to another by means of
them.
Of these facts, Huber has given the following striking evidence. He
divided a stock hive into two parts by metal network, sufficiently
fine to prevent the passage of the bees, but with meshes wide enough
to allow the antennæ to be passed through. At first, by a pair of such
gratings at a little distance apart, he separated the two portions,
so that no communication whatever could take place between them.
Very soon that half from which the queen was excluded showed signs
of commotion and distress, and even began to prepare queen-cells, to
supply themselves with a new sovereign; but when, by the removal of one
grating, Huber allowed the feelers to be used to convey intelligence
between the bees on opposite sides of the remaining division, he saw
the insects by hundreds making inquiries as to what had happened. Then
the queen was observed on the grating, and the bees being assured, by
crossing antennæ with her, that their mother was still in the hive,
though shut off from free access to one set of her subjects, they
all quieted down, left off making the royal cells, and resumed their
various avocations.
Huber tried the further experiment of depriving two queens of their
antennæ, and introducing both into the same hive. The population did
not seem able to recognise their own sovereign from the stranger, and
both were let alone; but, directly he put in a third queen, unmutilated
in these organs, the workers fell upon her, and slaughtered her.
The antennæless queens lost all purpose, laid eggs at random, and
wandered about the hives as if they had "lost their heads."
Another very curious fact is, that if a worker is deprived of her
feelers, and then allowed to fly, she becomes incapable of recognising
her hive, even when near to it, and is hopelessly lost as to her
whereabouts. From this circumstance we are inclined to conclude that
the antennæ are possessed of sensibilities to which we have nothing
strictly analogous--that, in fact, there resides in them a sense, or
senses, with which mankind is not endowed, one of which we are disposed
to call the "homing-sense."
Numerous observations show that by the antennæ, also, distinct
information can be given. We have ourselves tried the following
experiment in confirmation of this point. Having placed near the
entrance of a hive a dead humble-bee, we first noticed one of the
sentinels rush to the body, and with her feelers investigate its
nature. Finding it was a lifeless creature, and one, therefore, simply
to be got rid of, she began to tug at it, to move it towards the edge
of the floor-board. At once discovering that the weight was too great
for her strength, she went to the entrance, and meeting a friend, by
crossing their feelers, the one was made aware of the difficulty of the
other. The second then went to the aid of the first; but, as the body
was too great a burden for their united efforts, the new-comer gave up
her attempts to move it, as if the duty did not concern her much. The
first bee, however, would not be baffled till she had fetched several
other individuals, one at a time, to the work in hand. But, at length,
as she could get no combined action, and as no two were sufficiently
strong to haul away the large carcase of their distant relative, she
gave up the task in despair, and retired to the hive in apparent
disgust.
On a moonlight night the sentries may be observed marching eagerly
about the entrances of their abodes, and vigorously moving their
antennæ, to ascertain whether moths, or other unwelcome intruders,
are trying to get inside the hives. The presence of an enemy being
detected, he is soon chased away.
By some naturalists the feelers have been thought to afford the
capacity of smell. It is, however, more probable that this sense
resides in the mouth itself, or in its immediate neighbourhood.
Whether or not bees appreciate sound, is another moot point. It is,
indeed, doubted by many observers whether hearing is possessed at
all by insects. Sir John Lubbock records a series of experiments
which he conducted on this point, to which we shall make reference a
little later on. Those writers, who credit bees with the ability to
distinguish sound waves, incline to the belief that the power resides
in the antennas. As modern science has shown that all our physical
impressions are modifications of vibration, variously interpreted,
according to the means by which they are conveyed to the sensorium,
we may readily imagine that more than one faculty may reside in these
jointed organs of which we have been speaking, and that each separate
part may possibly have its own specific function; while, by combined
action, such differences may be made as are analogous to chords, and
harmonies, or discords in music, as compared with the striking of
single notes.
We have dwelt at considerable length on the subject of the antennæ,
not simply because what is known of them is so remarkable, but because
we wish to draw attention to the fact that there is here a most
interesting field for further investigation. Much remains to be done
to clear up the mysteries still unsolved, and to harmonise the various
observations already made respecting the nature and properties of these
organs, which, not only in bees, but in many other families of insects,
play such an important part in their life-history.
_The Mouth._--Passing next to the mouth, we find a somewhat complex
structure; for it consists of many parts, each of which has its
ascertained function. We find first, the _labrum_, or upper lip;
the _epipharynx_, or valve closing the aperture of the gullet; the
_pharynx_, or gullet, forming the true mouth, as well as the entrance
to the _œsophagus_, or food-pipe; the _hypopharynx_, lying just
below the gullet; the _labium_, or lower lip; and the _proboscis_,
or true tongue. These are all single parts; but there are also pairs
of _mandibles_, or upper jaws, and _maxillæ_, or lower jaws, besides
_palpi_--certain jointed, sensiferous organs, whose functions are not
well understood, but which are possibly connected with the sensation of
taste.
The _labrum_, or upper lip, has a vertical motion, and when not in use
falls over the organs beneath it; while it is covered, in its turn, by
the _mandibles_, which are jointed on to the cheeks, and act laterally.
The _pharynx_ is a cavity lying beneath the _epipharynx_, and can be
closed by the latter, over which the two previously described parts
lap, so that the entrance to the œsophagus is trebly protected.
The _labium_, or lower lip, is capable of being pushed forward and
retracted, and lies, when not in use, within the under cavity of the
head.
On either side are the _maxillæ_, or so-called jaws, which form the
under sheath of the rest of the lingual structures when in repose.
[Illustration: Fig. 27.--Head of Bee, With Antennæ.
_a._ Antennæ._b._ Compound eyes. _c._ Jaws. _d._ Maxillae. _e._ Labial
palpi. _f._ Ligula, or tongue. _g._ Stemmata.]
The true tongue is attached to the middle point of the lower lip,
having the labial palpi at its sides. It is much elongated when thrust
out in use. While at rest, the anterior part folds back upon the
posterior portion, when it is covered by the maxillæ, which seem then
like a part of the tongue itself. The back is much larger than the
front. The whole is flattened, when not sipping liquid. It is then much
broader than its thickness, but its edges are rounded. It narrows
from its base to its extremity, at which there is a slight inflation,
which seems to have a perforation in its centre, and is surrounded
by hairs. The tongue has also a large number of cartilaginous rings,
each bordered with minute hairs, which appear to be the means used
for sweeping up the last remains of any fluid which has been almost
exhausted. The act of imbibition is performed, not so much by suction,
as by lapping. Its motions being free in all directions, it can easily
draw liquid into the mouth on all sides. We notice, however, that when
the supply of food being taken is very considerable, the segments
of the abdomen have a vibratory motion, or, rather, are alternately
lengthened and shortened, as if fluid were being pumped into the body.
It is, therefore, possible that, under some circumstances, suction as
well as lapping may go on. Still, it is remarkable that a bee does
not insert the tip of its proboscis into a drop of honey or other
saccharine material, as it would do if it intended to draw liquid
through a tube. It much rather uses the middle of the upper surface
of the tongue, curving round the point as if not to employ it. If,
however, the honey or syrup be very thick, the fore-part of the tongue
is thrust into it, possibly to dilute the liquid with saliva, and thus
to render it fit for lapping. In all cases the insect tries to load
the upper surface, whence the fluid passes backward under the sheaths
to the gullet; and we see no reason to believe that the proboscis
constitutes a tube for imbibition. A further confirmation of this
conclusion is given by Shuckard, who says, "By pressing towards its
origin, I have detected the liquid which gave it its extension; but
all my pressing would never make the liquid pass through the extremity,
although the pressure has sometimes made it almost rend the membranes
to give it an opening to escape by."
A further use of the tongue is for shaping the pliant wax in
comb-building; and it appears to be employed much as a trowel is by
a bricklayer, or, perhaps, we should rather say, like a finger by a
moulder of plaster of Paris.
As we have mentioned, the jaws open vertically; but the mandibles
and maxillæ work horizontally. They are thus enabled to seize and
tightly hold any object they can grasp. The mandibles of the drone and
the queen have two notches or teeth. Those of workers are not thus
furnished, probably because, for shaping and smoothing the cells, an
unbroken edge is much more convenient than a notched one. These organs
are, however, very strong, and enable their possessor to grasp enemies,
drones or queens; to nibble hard kinds of food; to break away pieces of
damaged comb; and to mould wax for building purposes. In the last of
these operations they are, doubtless, aided by the shear-like maxillæ.
CHAPTER XII.
HEARING, TASTE, AND SMELLING.
Hearing--Sir John Lubbock's Experiments--Sounds uttered by
Queen--Effects produced by them--Smell-Organs--Purposes--Liking
for, and Antipathy to, certain Effluvia--Discovery by Bees of
Nectar and Honey
With regard to the sense of hearing, Sir John Lubbock says: "The result
of my experiments on the hearing of bees has surprised me very much.
It is generally considered that, to a certain extent, the emotions of
bees are expressed by the sounds they make, which seems to imply that
they possess the power of hearing. I do not by any means intend to deny
that this is the case. Nevertheless, I never found them take any notice
of any noise which I made, even when it was close to them. I tried
one of my bees with a violin. I made all the noise I could, but, to
my surprise, she took no notice. I could not even see a twitch of the
antennæ. The next day I tried the same with another bee, but could not
see the slightest sign that she was conscious of the noise. On August
31st I repeated the experiment with another bee, with the same result.
On September 12th and 13th I tried several bees with a dog-whistle and
a shrill pipe, but they took no notice whatever; nor did a set of
tuning-forks, which I tried on a subsequent day, have any more effect.
These tuning-forks extended over three octaves, beginning with A below
the ledger-line. I also tried with my voice, shouting, &c., close to
the head of a bee; but, in spite of my utmost efforts, the bees took
no notice. I repeated these experiments at night, when the bees were
quiet; but no noise that I could make seemed to disturb them in the
least. In this respect the results of my observations on bees entirely
agreed with those on ants."
These experiments do not appear by any means conclusive. It may well
be that sounds which are merely loud or shrill would pass unnoticed by
the insects, as conveying no meaning to them. In like manner, a clap of
thunder, the firing of a cannon or gun, the playing of a brass band,
will produce no manifest effect upon them; but, if the queen utters,
as she sometimes does, a peculiar sound, an instantaneous and very
remarkable recognition of it takes place. The sound referred to is
usually heard at the time when the young princesses are ready to emerge
from the cells in which they have been developed. When thus emitted by
the young queens, no attention appears to be paid to it by the workers,
who, however, restrain the mother-queen from destroying her royal
daughters. But, when these are released from their natal captivity, and
the queen, standing with her thorax against a comb, makes, with her
wings crossed over her back and in rapid vibration, a certain sound, it
receives immediate attention. Huber tells us that bees which had been
plucking at, biting, and chasing the queen, hung down their heads when
this peculiar noise was uttered, and remained altogether motionless;
and whenever she had recourse to this assertion of authority, the same
effects followed.
Again, unless observers are fanciful in their interpretation of the
sounds to be heard at various times in a hive, we must conclude that
certain feelings, such as those of anger, grief, consternation,
satisfaction, joy, &c., are expressed in distinct tones. If this is the
case, we can only conclude that, difficult as it may be to localise the
organ of hearing, such an organ must exist. Nor, in all probability,
shall we be mistaken in assigning its position to the antennæ; for
recent investigations into the anatomy of these organs in ants,[3] lend
much support to the theory that an auditory apparatus is situated in
them.
[Footnote 3: Vide p. 227 of _Ants, Bees, and Wasps_, by Sir John
Lubbock.]
_Taste._--Next as to taste. We have already spoken of the close
connection between this sense and the preceding; but, whatever doubt
may be entertained as to the possession of the former, there can be
none as to the latter. Huber, indeed, from the fact that bees are often
seen lapping stable-liquid and sewage, thought the sense of taste could
exist in them to only a very small degree. It must be remembered,
however, that, like many other creatures, they are fond of certain
salts, and to this, no doubt, may be ascribed their visits to the
above-mentioned liquids. On _a priori_ grounds we should conclude that
the possession of this faculty was most important, for the detection of
nectar suitable and unsuitable for the purposes of the hive. Moreover,
we find a marked preference shown for flowers which produce the best
honey; and the eagerness with which they will lap up any thoroughly
sweet liquid confirms the idea that they taste very readily.
_Smell._ Probably of all the senses of bees none is so acute as that
of the perception of odours. Not only do they distinguish the citizens
of their own hive from those of other communities; not only do they
discriminate between the fragrance of various flowers; not only can
they detect the aroma of honey concealed from their sight, though
not from their olfactory nerves, but they show a marked antipathy to
certain human individuals, which can only be accounted for by supposing
that from these persons proceeds an effluvium disagreeable to the bees,
though not perceptible by, or unpleasant to, man.
A remarkable anecdote in confirmation of this well-known fact is
given by Bevan, on the authority of M. de Hofer, Councillor of State
to the Grand Duke of Baden. This gentleman's father had for years
kept bees, and had devoted much personal attention to them. He had,
indeed, attained such familiarity with them, and such skill in their
manipulation, that he could, without fear of being stung, search for
and find the queen, and take her in his fingers. Unfortunately, he fell
ill with a severe fever, which kept him for a long time a prisoner to
his house. After his convalescence he visited his bees, returning to
them with his old confidence and pleasure. Greatly to his surprise and
dismay, he found their feelings towards him entirely changed. They
would no longer allow him to approach the hives, much less to perform
any of his former manipulations; and that this was not the effect
of a change of the population, through the natural perishing of the
workers, but was due to some alteration in him, was shown by the fact
that he was never again able to resume his old familiarity with his
favourites. Some change in his blood, brought about by the fever, made
the emanations from his skin permanently offensive to the bees, though
no such difference was perceptible to any of his human friends.
M. Feburier and other observers assert that a certain antipathy is
manifested towards persons with red or black hair. We have reason to
doubt the correctness of their opinion as to the latter class, and we
more strongly incline to think that fair-complexioned people are less
agreeable to bees than those who are darker. As a corroboration of
this, we may mention the case of two brothers, one of whom could always
approach the hives with impunity, while the other could not come near
them without danger of being stung. Though both of them were dark, the
obnoxious one was decidedly the fairer.
A further evidence of their sense of smell is the anger they manifest
on the crushing of one of their number. Like the terror inspired into
an ox by the smell of freshly-drawn blood in the slaughter-house,
is the odour of a bruised comrade to bees. Again, the smell of the
liquid from one of their poison bags excites them strongly. A wound
just made by a sting rouses others to inflict more wounds; and, if
the fluid be presented to them at the entrance of their homes, it at
once stirs their fury. If, however, it be allowed to crystallise,
and thus to become incapable of emitting any odour, it will be quite
disregarded by the bees. Sir John Lubbock tried various experiments
with eau-de-Cologne and rose-water, and found that, till the insects
had become habituated by frequent use to these liquids, they always
came out to the entrance, to ascertain the meaning of the odours which
had penetrated into the hives. It is well known, also, that they
dislike the smell of paint so much, that it is not advisable to place a
swarm in a freshly painted box, lest they should forsake it, from its
unpleasant odour.
We may well conclude that it is owing to the keenness of this sense
that they perceive the presence of flowers containing nectar; and,
guided by it, they wing their flight to distant fields where the
white clover attracts them, or to more barren districts where the
heath promises them abundant pasturage. It is very certain that the
fragrant aroma of honey is at once perceived by them at many feet
from their dwellings; and in taking their sweets from them it is, for
this reason, necessary to avoid all exposure of broken combs, or the
dripping of their contents. Great trouble is, in fact, often occasioned
by the readiness with which they thus detect the presence of their own
produce. Within our personal knowledge, at a provincial show of bees,
hives, and honey, the fragrance of the liquid attracted bees from the
neighbourhood in such immense numbers that they carried off, during one
afternoon, some seventy pounds of honey from the tent in which it was
being exhibited.
The position of the organ of smell is not clearly ascertained. By
some, as we have said, the antennæ have been credited with the power;
but, though many observations may seem to favour this opinion, we must
remember that we have on record some striking facts, which would seem,
at least, to show that powerful odours are able to be recognised by
other portions of the body. Lehmann and Cuvier came to the conclusion
that the spiracles, connected with the respiration of bees, are the
means by which the sense of smell is exercised. The idea was based on
the notion that odours can only be perceived by the inhalation of air.
This, of course, is not a sufficient ground for the inference arrived
at. Kirby and Spence, again, inclined, as we have already mentioned,
to the belief that the organ of smell lay in or near the mouth. This
supposition was partly founded on the close relation between taste
and smell. Huber's experiments lent some confirmation to this theory.
He presented a camel's-hair brush with a little oil of turpentine on
its tip to every part successively of the abdomen, trunk, and head,
without producing any discomfort to the bee. He then tried the eyes
and antennæ, without any apparent effect; but, as soon as he directed
it a little above the insertion of the proboscis and close to the
mouth, immediate signs of annoyance showed themselves. This experiment,
repeated with other strongly-smelling liquids, gave similar results;
but, when the mouths of the insects experimented upon were stopped with
paste, the perception of odours appeared no longer to exist.
For the present, then, the matter remains in doubt; but we may suggest
to our readers that observations on this point, carefully and patiently
conducted, may lead to much useful information being obtained.
It is impossible to pass from an examination and description of the
head-apparatus of the bee, without being struck with the marvellous
beauty, and equally wonderful adaptation, of each of its parts to the
varied functions required of them. Whether observed by the unassisted
eye, or by a lens of low or high power, we cannot fail to see how
exquisitely each minutest portion is fashioned; how remarkably the
various organs are protected according to their delicacy; how supplied
with nerve-fibre in proportion to the sensitiveness required in
them; how supplementary one to another in their diverse duties; how
harmonious in their working; and how fitted as a whole to the wants and
the instincts of the insects to which they belong. Nor, as it seems to
us, is it possible to believe that any force of evolution, unguided by
a distinctly controlling and Divine creative power, could ever have
elaborated organs so precisely what might have been expected to result
from the exercise of infinite wisdom and manifest purpose.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE THORAX.
Detailed Description--Legs--Wings--How used in Flight--Hooking
together--Employed for Ventilating.
The thorax of the bee is divided into three sections, or imperfect
rings. Of these, that nearest the head is called the _pro_-thorax,
the middle one the _meso_-thorax, and the hindmost the _meta_-thorax.
To the first of these are attached the most forward pair of legs; to
the second, another pair of legs and one pair of wings; to the third,
the last pair of legs and the other pair of wings. These organs of
locomotion constitute, in fact, all that is worthy of special interest
in this segment of the body, and we will, therefore, give a short
account of them.
The legs of all insects consist of five parts, or joints, and in the
case of the bee they are not only the means of walking or crawling,
but, like some of the head organs of which we have spoken, serve
several purposes. The first of the leg-segments is called the _coxa_,
or hip, and is short and round, appearing, indeed, to be little more
than the joint by which the limb is articulated to the body. The
second is named the _trochanter_, and is very similar to the _coxa_.
One purpose effected by these two portions is to give great freedom
of motion to the whole member. Next comes the _femur_, or thigh, a
longer and flatter division. This is followed by the _tibia_, or shank,
a stouter and thicker division, which, especially in the hind-legs,
becomes gradually wider downwards, and in the workers is adapted to
a very special use, as we shall directly see. Then in succession we
have the _tarsus_, or foot, consisting of five joints, the first very
much stouter than the rest, and as long as the remaining four. It is
terminated by a pair of hooked claws, with a cushion or _pulvillus_.
[Illustration: Fig. 28.--Lower Segments of Hind-Leg of Bee,
Considerably Enlarged.]
[Illustration: Fig. 29.--Complete Hind-leg Of Bee.]
We have already spoken of the remarkable apparatus found in the in
the hind legs, adapted to the purpose of cleansing the antennæ.
At the junction of the fourth and fifth segments (the _tibia_ and
the _tarsus_) of the hind leg of a worker a cavity is formed by the
uppermost edge of the latter and the lower of the former. The cavity
can be opened or closed at the will of the insect. Above this, on the
outside of the tibia, is a pocket, or pollen-basket, lined along its
upper edge with a row of lancet-shaped hairs, which aid in detaining
the tiny balls of pollen, as they are successively deposited on the
leg. Like a series of prong-tines, they can be pressed into the
yielding bee-bread, and keep it from falling off; while, as _they point
downwards_, they present no obstacle to the brushing off of the whole
mass by the bee, on its return to the hive. The slight hollowing of the
_tibia_ and the _tarsus_ at the approximating ends, affords more space
for the gathered pollen, and also assists in its safe carriage to the
cells.
The last joint of the _tarsus_ is armed with a pair of double claws,
and between them lies a hollow cup-shaped cushion, somewhat like that
which enables the house-fly to walk on glass or other very smooth
surfaces, only that the _pulvillus_ of the fly is double. The edge of
the cup is fringed with _ciliæ_, or very minute hairs, of such delicacy
that a powerful lens is required to see them. Under the microscope, the
object is one of great interest.
The claws serve for hanging from the roof or sides of hives, and for
clinging to each other at swarming or wax-making times, the cushion for
walking on smooth surfaces. It is worthy of remark that all the joints
of the legs are covered with hairs more or less stiff, and all pointing
downwards. Their uses are to collect pollen, and to act as brushes
and combs to all the external parts of the body, which need constant
cleansing from flower-dust, and other matters less useful to the bee.
[Illustration: Fig. 30.--Wing of Bee.]
Passing now to the wings, new marvels and beauties await our
observation. These organs are four in number, the forward pair being
considerably larger than the hinder. Each wing consists of a double
membrane, dotted all over with fine hairs, whose purposes are to
protect the delicate structure from wet, and from particles of various
kinds which would adhere to it, and injure its surface. As a support
for this expanded tissue, there is a ramification of stronger material,
constituting nervures, and acting like the ribs of an umbrella. With
these are associated air-vessels, or _tracheæ_, for the circulation
of air, and, possibly, to assist in giving buoyancy to the organ. By
another set of tubes a portion of the nutritive fluid is conveyed to
certain parts of the wing, though no general circulation seems to take
place in it. The substance of which the expanded portion, as well as
the nervures, is composed, is very tough, and, as our readers may
remember, the natural order to which the bees are assigned is named
_Hymenoptera_, from the strongly _membranous wings_ they possess.
We can readily understand the importance to these insects of having
their organs of flight powerful, and yet not weighty, tough without
being clumsy. Considering the length of their daily journeys, and the
constant and rapid movements they require to make, we easily discern
how well suited to their needs is the structure of their wings. But we
must call attention to a remarkable provision for the further utility
of these organs. Under a lens of medium power may be seen, along the
anterior edges of the hind wings, a series of booklets of hair, while
on the posterior edge of the front wings is a rib, or bar, which the
booklets can grasp. By this means the two wings, when used for flight,
become practically one, thus presenting unbroken resistance to the air,
and, in consequence, greatly increasing the power of propelling the
body. When at rest, the unhooking of the edges enables the wings to be
folded out of the way--no mean advantage in the crowded hive.
[Illustration: Fig. 31.--Hooklets of a Bee's Wing.]
But there is a further benefit thus conferred on the insect. During
hot weather, and when the population is very dense, ventilation is
constantly and vigorously carried on by the workers, who, fixing
themselves firmly by their claws to the floor-board at the entrance,
some outside and some just within their homes, direct numerous
currents of air into the hive. Of course there must issue a quantity
corresponding to what is driven in, and thus a perpetual and free
circulation is kept up. Now, if the wings worked independently, not
only would a smaller quantity of air be affected by each stroke, but
the two sets of motions would, to some extent, counteract each other.
As it is, the hooked wings act like well-constructed and well-used
fans. By the simple experiment of slitting such an implement down the
middle, the comparative advantages of a broken and an unbroken surface,
for fanning purposes, can easily be put to the proof.
Thus, again, we are struck with the fact that the more closely we
examine the organs of any segment of the body of the insect, the
more reason do we find to admire the skill, and the care for His
creatures, manifested by the infinitely wise and the infinitely good
Maker of them all. Beauty, adaptation, perfection, are the words which
are continually suggested to our minds by the contemplation of the
structure of the bee.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE ABDOMEN.
Respiratory Organs--Circulation of Nutritive Fluid--Digestion
and Nutrition--Secretion of Wax--Reproductive Organs--Detailed
description of Sting--Effects of Poison--Queen's Sting.
The abdomen constitutes the largest and hindmost segment of the
body, and is important as containing several structures which have
most essential functions in the economy of the insect. Among these
are the chief parts of the respiratory apparatus, the digestive, the
wax-making, the reproductive, and stinging organs.
First, it must be noted that the bee has nothing strictly analogous
to our lungs, heart, liver, and other structures making up a true
circulating-system. At the same time there is a real oxygenation of the
fluids of the body, with a consequent evolution of heat, water, and
carbonic acid gas.
The breathing apparatus has not its aperture for inspiration and
expiration situated in the head, as is the case in the higher animals;
but air is admitted and expelled through apertures along both sides
of the body. In the thorax are two pairs of such openings, and there
is a pair on each ring of the abdomen. These air-holes are called
_spiracles_, or _stigmata_, and lead into two minute chambers, one
behind the other, the outer being provided with a number of short
hairs, to prevent the entry of foreign particles likely to obstruct the
important passages.
[Illustration: Fig. 32.--Abdomen of Bee, Showing Respiratory Organs.
_a_, Air-sac. _b b b_, Spiracles.]
From these vestibules the air is conducted by tubes, or _tracheæ_,
into sacs or bladders communicating with each other. The largest pair
of these cavities is found in the abdomen, and from these two main
trunks lead, one into the thorax, and the other to the termination
of the abdomen. From the latter there branch out subsidiary tubes,
leading into the minuter chambers, called _sacculi_, or little sacs.
Those going upwards do not subdivide till they reach the head, in
which are found two air-chambers of considerable size. Reasons for this
distribution of the secreting vessels may be found, on the one hand, in
the need of the oxygenation of the tissues, especially those connected
with the nutrition of the ganglia of highest functions; and, on the
other, in the requirements of buoyancy in the segments relatively the
heaviest, and destitute of organs of support in the atmosphere, such
as the wings furnish. A confirmation of the second of these purposes
is derived from the remarkable fact, that in the queen bee, who does
not fly more than once or twice in her life, the great air-sacs of the
abdomen are almost obliterated, their space being needed for the large
ovaries.
[Illustration: Fig. 33.--Air-sacs of Worker.]
The structure of the _tracheæ_ is very remarkable. Under a powerful
microscope they are seen to consist of a double membrane, between the
two coats of which are coils of an elastic thread, which act like
the spiral wire frequently used for keeping open and strengthening
india-rubber tubing. By means of this structure the air-pipes are
maintained in a condition for the free passage of the atmosphere, and
if closed by pressure, the elastic fibre reopens them directly the
pressure is removed.
[Illustration: Fig. 34.--_a_, Air-sacs, _b_, Ovaries, of the Queen.]
With regard to the circulation of the nutritive fluid in the system,
considerable obscurity prevails. What is known is, that along the back
of the insect runs a vessel called, from its position, the _dorsal_
vessel, attached to the outer covering of the body by bands of
ligamentous tissue. The portion of this tube contained in the abdomen
is enlarged at intervals into chambers communicating with each other
by valves, which allow the fluid to go forward to the head, but not
back towards the other extremity. Passing by a simple elastic tube
through the thorax, the blood, if we may so call it, is propelled to
the anterior segment of the body. Its subsequent course is not very
clear; for, while some anatomists speak of a small vessel leading back
to the hinder part of the body, others consider that the sanguineous,
or nutritive, liquid finds its way from the cephalic parts to other
vital organs, and after bathing them, returns to the dorsal vessel by a
second set of valves permitting its ingress only.
[Illustration: Fig. 35.--_a_, Tracheæ; _b_, Elastic Spiral of Tracheæ.]
Turning next to the nutritive organs, we have already spoken at
sufficient length of the mouth and its appendages, and have mentioned
that the nectar of flowers is conveyed first to an enlargement of the
gullet, analogous to the crop of birds. From this, some is regurgitated
by the workers into the cells, for storage, while another portion
passes on to the true stomach.[4] A certain amount of nitrogenous food,
chiefly pollen, also finds its way to this cavity, and there undergoes
a second mastication by the so-called _gastric_ teeth. These consist of
silica, and are therefore very hard.
[Footnote 4: Pastor Schönfeld has recently made some most interesting
researches into the anatomy and communication of the two stomachs. A
translation of his articles may be found in _The British Bee Journal_
for July, 1883.]
After undergoing considerable digestion in the stomach, the chyle,
as we may now consider it, passes into a short intestine, where it
receives fluid from the so-called "biliary ducts." Further on is an
expansion, called the _colon_, after traversing which the portions of
food not absorbed into the system, together with the waste products
brought to the intestines, are expelled from the body. It is probable
that the nutritive parts of the aliment find their way through the
walls of the intestine, and mingling with the sanguineous liquid
returned from the cephalic extremity, pass with it into the dorsal
vessel.
Closely connected with the digestive apparatus is that which is
concerned in the making of wax. By pressing the abdomen of the bee, so
as to cause its extension, there can be seen, on the under side of the
four medial ventral segments, two trapeziform whitish pockets, one on
either side of the _carinæ_, or elevated central part. These are of a
membranous texture, and are covered with a reticulation of hexagonal
meshes, reminding one of the inner coat of the second stomach of the
sheep, and other ruminating animals. There is no direct communication
between the stomach and these pockets; but Hunter suggested that the
secreting surface is in the membrane just alluded to.
[Illustration: Fig. 36.--Under Side of Abdomen, Showing Wax Scales.]
[Illustration: Fig. 37.--Bee, Showing the Wax Scales.]
[Illustration: Fig. 38.--Scales.]
We cannot follow the process by which the change from honey to wax is
effected, any more than we can account for the elaboration of bile,
saliva, and the pancreatic liquid, from our blood by the different
organs connected with their production. All we can say is, that the
membrane of the wax-receptacles is endowed with the peculiar power of
transforming the nectar of flowers into an oil. The actual chemical
change may be stated in general terms thus: Honey and sugar contain,
roughly speaking, equal chemical equivalents of oxygen, carbon, and
hydrogen. In wax, the quantities of the first of these elements is
diminished to about an eighth part, while the carbon and hydrogen are
more than quadrupled. In other words, the saccharine material suffers
very great de-oxidation in passing into the condition of wax.
The wax-oil, when it has filled the pocket in which it is secreted,
passes out of the body of the insect in _laminæ_ or scales, which take
the shape of the bags in which they have been produced. In contact
with the air, the wax absorbs a small quantity of oxygen, and loses an
equal amount of carbon. When about to be used by the bee, it is picked
off the under segments of the body by the hind-legs, passed on to the
fore-feet, and by them is conveyed to the mouth, where, by being mixed
with saliva and well kneaded, it is rendered pliant, ductile, and more
tenacious.
The reproductive organs of the queen consist, first, of two large bags,
one on each side of the abdomen, and called ovaries, in which the eggs
are generated. When mature, these eggs pass by a tube from each ovary
to a common duct, on one side of which is found a small yellow vesicle,
called the _spermatheca_. On examination under the microscope, this is
found to be filled with a viscous fluid, in which, with a lens of high
power, may be seen moving thousands of spermatozoa derived from the
drone.
[Illustration: Fig. 39.--Ovaries and Spermatheca of Queen.]
By voluntary effort on the part of the queen, each egg, as it passes
this vesicle, may be touched with a most minute drop of the fluid
just mentioned. Then this very marvellous fact results. An egg thus
fertilised develops into a queen or a worker, according to the
conditions under which it is hatched; while those eggs which are not
brought in their passage into contact with the fluid, and receive no
spermatozoa, become drones. Herein lies the explanation of fertile
workers giving birth to drones only, and of queens, hatched after
the drones of a season are dead, also laying eggs which will develop
only into male bees. We are absolutely unable to account for these
most extraordinary circumstances, which open up interesting fields for
future investigation. Not the least wonderful point is the exercise of
will, on the part of the queen, in the production of the particular
kind of egg which, without making mistakes, she lays in the cells
specially provided for the three classes of her offspring.
The last of the abdominal organs we have now to describe, is one
which is not essential to the life of the individual, but has been
conferred by the Creator as a means of offence and defence, viz.,
the sting. Those who have frequently felt its effects have no need
to be told how formidable a weapon it is; but few probably are fully
acquainted with the structures which give it such potent force. If a
bee be irritated, and made to thrust out its sting, we observe a dark
brown and sharply-pointed dart. This, when magnified, is seen to be
the sheath, in which the true sting lies and is moved. The sheath is
divided down the centre, and between the two parts the real piercers
work, though the sheath itself is thrust into the wound. It consists of
two horny scales, smooth and closely adherent to the true darts. These
last are stiff filaments, barbed along their outer edge. They are not
quite equal in length, so that the teeth of the one do not lie exactly
opposite those of the other. They work side by side, and, possibly with
alternate motion, pierce deeper and deeper into the punctured material.
The teeth give a firm hold to the imbedded weapon, and prevent its easy
withdrawal. In fact, when plunged into human flesh, or into thick
leather gloves, these barbs hold so tightly that the insect is unable
to free itself, and if forcibly detached, or if by a vigorous effort it
escapes, the sting is left behind, and frequently attached to it are
portions of the viscera. The bee thus loses its life, and the injury it
inflicts is the more severe.
[Illustration: Fig. 40.--Sting of a Bee, greatly magnified.]
The mere puncture of the weapon, however, would be a quite unimportant
matter, were it not that, connected with the groove in which the dart
works, is a short tube leading from a bag containing a liquid of the
most acrid and poisonous nature. By powerful muscles, attached to the
upper part of the sting, the barbs are thrust out; the sheath follows
them into the pierced substance, and then, by the pressure of other
muscles, a drop of the poison-liquid runs down into the wound, and
immediately sets up a violent pain and inflammation of the surrounding
parts. So powerful is the action of the irritant, that numerous cases
are on record of death ensuing through its influence. We are, however,
bound to say that, by many authorities, such fatal consequences are
considered to result from syncope produced by fright, rather than from
the _direct_ effect of the poison on the nervous system. Still, there
is no doubt of the very formidable nature of the liquid, as may be
generally seen in the amount of swelling and discomfort caused by the
exceedingly minute portion injected by the sting of a bee.
[Illustration: Fig. 41.--Barbs of a Bee's Sting, very highly magnified.]
The most remarkable function of the sting-apparatus has, in modern
times, been discovered to be the insertion of a minute drop of the
poison in each honey-cell when filled. This acts as an anti-septic, and
prevents fermentation in the sweet liquid.
The poison is secreted by tiny glands, from which it is conveyed,
by tubes or ducts, into the reservoir, where it is stored ready for
use. Chemically, the liquid is said to have an acid reaction. Hence
the application of ammonia, and other alkaline solutions, will most
effectually counteract its effects.
The sting of the queen differs from that of the worker, in having its
barbs curved, instead of straight. This modification makes it a much
less formidable implement. Moreover, it is very seldom employed. It is,
indeed, almost impossible to make a queen sting the hand, even by great
provocation. Almost the only circumstances in which her majesty employs
the weapon are, first, for mortal combat with a rival, and second, for
murdering, if permitted by the workers, the princesses before they
emerge from the cells in which they have developed.
The drone is without a sting, and, indeed, seems never to show fight at
all. Its jaws might furnish no despicable weapons, but the insect seems
to lack spirit to use them, even in self-defence, and when attacked by
the mandibles only of the workers, manifests no inclination to employ
its own against its tormentors. Struggles to escape, and haste to flee,
seem to betray its absence of courage; though, possibly, an instinctive
knowledge that its assailants have in reserve a more deadly piece of
armour than strong jaws may make "discretion the better part of valour."
With regard to the sting of the bee, Paley aptly remarks that it
"affords a beautiful example of the union of chemistry and mechanism:
of chemistry in respect to the venom, which, in so small a quantity,
can produce such powerful effects; of mechanism, as the sting is not
a simple but a compound instrument. The machinery would have been
useless, had it not been for the chemical process, by which, in the
insect's body, honey is converted into poison; and, on the other hand,
the poison would have been ineffectual without an instrument to wound,
and a syringe to inject the fluid."
CHAPTER XV.
THE DISEASES OF BEES.
Dysentery: How Produced--Indications--Treatment. Foul-Brood: two
kinds--Nature--Propagation. Mr. Cheshire's Discoveries and
Treatment--Fatal Effects of Disease--Detection--Vertigo--Analogy
of Human and Bee Diseases.
How far the diseases of domesticated animals are due to the conditions
to which they are subjected by man, and which are always, to some
extent, contrary to the natural mode of life of the creatures, we are
at present unable to say. We can, however, point with some certainty
to cases in which birds and quadrupeds, which are made subservient to
our needs or our convenience, suffer in consequence of our treatment.
In some degree, this is true with regard to bees. In a wild state
their habitations may, indeed, expose them to risks they do not run in
hives, but these artificial dwellings, on the other hand, tend to the
development, or the extension of, at least two maladies to which their
occupants are subject. These are the deadly evils of dysentery and
so-called "foul-brood."
Dysentery has been known in apiaries from the time of Columella, in
the first century of our era, who attributed it to the effect of
food derived by the bees from the elm and the spurge. Other more
recent writers have ascribed it to over-indulgence in spring-honey,
wheresoever derived: others, again, to the consumption of stores which
had candied in the cells during the winter. More recent investigations
show that there are several means by which this trouble may be
generated. In the first place, ineffective ventilation, by permitting
the condensation of moisture on the combs, and its admixture with the
food stores, is a prolific source of the mischief. During the winter,
the low temperature is constantly reducing to a watery condition
the aqueous vapour given off by respiration. This vapour, like our
own perspiration, contains matter derived from impurities in the
circulating fluid, and is the natural vehicle for their removal. If,
then, such moisture again enters the body of the bee, it is simply a
poison, whose effects become manifest by producing diarrhœa, distension
of the abdomen, and more or less speedy death.
Again, if the stocks be supplied in the late autumn with syrup too
watery for the bees to seal over in the cells, contact with air sets
up a chemical change, and a certain amount of acid is generated,
which makes the honey most prejudicial to the health of the stock, by
deranging their digestive functions.
Thirdly, if during the winter time, when the insects are closely
confined to their dwellings by the weather, and when they are, under
ordinary conditions, very quiescent, they be disturbed and excited,
they are apt to gorge themselves with food; and having no natural means
of working off the extra quantity they have taken, the system is
overloaded, and the stomach and intestines suffer from the too great
burden thrown on them.
The occurrence of this malady is indicated by the altered appearance
and odour of the excrement, which, instead of being reddish yellow,
becomes of a muddy black colour, and has an intolerably foul smell.
It is, moreover, deposited by the weakened insects, contrary to their
cleanly habits, on the combs, the inner walls of the hives, on the
floor-board, and at the entrance of their dwellings.
The avoidance of the causes of the generation of the disease is a
comparatively easy matter. The means of cure are, first, the removal
of the reasons for its occurrence, and, secondly, the immediate and
thorough cleansing of all parts of a hive soiled by the sick bees. It
is still better, if possible, to remove the stock into a perfectly
fresh dwelling; and it is advisable to take away all combs with
unsealed honey, and substitute sealed stores, or to feed the bees with
barley-sugar.
"Foul-brood" is a much more formidable malady, and is often
encountered. It is, indeed, a terror to apiarians, for not only is
it very fatal to any stock in which it appears, but, from its ready
contagiousness, it may depopulate any number of previously healthy
communities, and may extend from one apiary to several others in the
neighbourhood.
As the name implies, it has been thought to be a disease of the
larvæ, and there are said to be two kinds, called respectively the
_dry_ and the _wet_. The former of these is much less serious, and is
not contagious. The young merely die in their cells; their bodies
desiccate, and there is an end of the matter. In the other variety, the
brood remains dark and shiny in the hatching-places, and emits a most
offensive odour, perceptible at some distance from the hive. When the
mischief is very great, combs are sometimes removed which are masses of
corruption and fœtor.
Microscopical investigations led to the belief that the source of
this dire pest was a microbe, allied to _micrococcus_. If the germs
of this lowly organism find a lodgment on the tender skin of a larva,
they propagate with immense rapidity, and cause the death of the
young insect. Then, wafted about the hive by the currents produced
in ventilation, they pass from one part to another; or, attaching
themselves to the bodies of adult bees, they are carried from cell
to cell, and each of these thus infected, in its turn, becomes a new
centre of deadly plague.
Dr. Schönfeld in Germany made a series of interesting experiments,
which he considered conclusive on the question of the origin and spread
of this disease. From a small piece of foul-brood he propagated, by
suitable means, large quantities of the fatal so-called _micrococcus_,
and with it he was able to infect a healthy stock. He, moreover,
established the fact that the dried germs float readily in the air.
Placing some of the foul-brood in a bell-glass, in which he inserted
lightly a plug of cotton-wool, he caused a gentle atmospheric current
to pass into the glass, and out by the tube. Then, moistening the
cotton-wool with water, and putting some of the liquid under a
microscope, he detected what he concluded to be numerous spores.
This circumstance throws a light on the contamination of the different
hives in an apiary, through one that has become infected; as, no doubt,
during the process of ventilation, many germs of the disease find their
way out of the entrances. It is probable that robber-bees are also very
frequently the carriers of contagion. Taking advantage of the dwindling
down of a stock suffering from the disease, these plunderers pilfer
the honey, and, in so doing, receive on their bodies the fatal seeds
of the malady, which they then carry to their own stocks. In this way
the existence of the pest in one community may become the cause of its
extension throughout a neighbourhood. It is, therefore, of the utmost
importance that the signs of the appearance of the evil should be
constantly watched, and very stringent measures applied whenever its
existence is ascertained.
Until quite lately it was thought that no means of cure, strictly so
called, existed. The germs are so minute, and are capable of such
diffusion and adherence in a hive, that half-measures proved, as usual,
of no avail. The removal of the combs and bees to a fresh hive, and
thoroughly sprinkling them with salicilic acid and water, has been
recommended as a remedial course; but bee-keepers found that nothing
short of the complete destruction of the infected community was likely
to be really effective, and the first loss, in such a case, might save
the entire destruction of all the stocks in the apiary. The very honey
stored in the combs had to be sacrificed also; for in it the dangerous
germs settle, and being used by the nurse-bees for feeding the larvæ,
become the continued, and possibly unsuspected, source of mischief to
any hive to which it is imparted. If the disease appeared in a straw
skep, it was considered desirable to destroy it with fire. If it found
its way into a bar-frame hive, every frame, every portion, even every
crevice, must be treated. Thorough boiling in a copper has been found
helpful in eradicating the mischief, but could not alone be relied
upon. A strong mixture of chloride of lime and water, or of salicilic
acid and water, applied carefully to every part, has been found more
effective. The important facts to be remembered are that, owing to the
extreme minuteness of the germs, their multitudes, and their great
vitality, it is very easy for some to escape destruction, and to become
the sources of future mischief, unless the most radical methods of
destruction are applied to them.
A new light has, however, just been thrown on this important subject
by Mr. Frank Cheshire, of Acton, who has done so much good work
in the anatomy of bees, and in their practical management. He has
now satisfied himself, by long-continued and careful microscopic
investigation, that the origin of foul-brood is a _bacillus_, not a
_micrococcus_,[5] and that the disease extends to all the inmates of
the hive. But what is of far greater moment to apiarians is, that Mr.
Cheshire claims to have discovered a means of completely curing the
dire plague. This consists in the administration of _phenol_, which
is one of the components of carbolic acid. Syrup is made with 3 lbs.
of loaf-sugar to a quart of water, and to this is added 1/500 part
of pure _phenol_. By removing the stored honey, and pouring the syrup
into cells around the infected parts of combs containing foul-brood,
the bees are induced to consume the medicated food. The "nurses" supply
it also to the larvæ, and the result is, that not only is the progress
of the disease stopped, but renewed courage and hope are infused into
the community, who remove the dead larvæ, clear out the polluted cells,
and bring about an entire renewal of healthy conditions. Should further
facts prove all that Mr. Cheshire expects, he will be regarded by
apiarians in future with as much admiration as Jenner, the introducer
of vaccination, is looked upon by the medical world. His generous
publication of his discoveries, so that all interested may have the
benefit of them, lays all bee-keepers under great obligations to him.
[Footnote 5: Those who wish for details on this and other points should
read Mr. Cheshire's admirable papers in the _British Bee-Journal_ for
August, 1884.]
As an example of the terrible results of this pest to the bee-keeper,
the case of the well-known German bee-master, Dzierzon, may be
mentioned. In the year 1848 the disease broke out in his apiary, and
more than 500 stocks were destroyed by it; in fact, only ten hives
escaped the pestilence. John Hunter--the author of a good _Manual
of Bee-Keeping_--records that from a friend, who had complained of
not finding his bees profitable, he purchased all his stocks, some
twenty in number, and removed them to his garden. They proved to have
foul-brood in them, and not only did the whole of them perish, but
all Mr. Hunter's own stocks, and, in addition, two or three years of
trouble were required to eradicate the mischief from the apiary.
The late Mr. Woodbury, whose name is "a household word" among
bee-keepers, was unfortunate enough to have this disease among his
hives in the spring and summer of 1863. He published a graphic account
of his trouble in the _Journal of Horticulture_ of July 21st, 1863,
entitled, "A Dwindling Apiary." By very vigorous measures he was able
to get rid of the pest; but the conclusions to which he came were
the following: "First let me endorse the opinions of both Dzierzon
and Rothe, that, except under very especial circumstances, it is
unadvisable to attempt the cure of a foul-broody stock: better, far
better, to consign its inhabitants to the brimstone-pit: the hive
itself, if a straw one, to the flames: the comb to the melting-pot: and
appropriate the honey to any purpose except that of feeding bees."
It is now known that this treatment is by no means always successful
when the _bacilli_ have reached the "resting" or "spore" stage.
The detection of signs of the disease is not very difficult, especially
in hives with movable frames. If, during the working season, a stock
seems not only not to increase, but to diminish in numbers; if fewer
and fewer bees appear active about the entrance; and if, above all,
a peculiarly disagreeable odour is perceptible, at even one or two
feet from the entrance, it is time to look to the condition of the
interior. An infected comb, on examination, is seen to be dark and
unwholesome-looking. If the caps covering the brood be distinctly
sunk, so as to show a concave surface, the existence of the disease is
almost a certainty; and if the covering of one or more of these cells
be removed, there will be found dark coffee-coloured, slimy liquid, the
remains of the larvæ destroyed by the _bacillus_.
From what we have said of this disease it will be seen that it is
most important for any one about to commence bee-keeping to be sure
the stocks he may purchase are not only themselves free from disease,
but come from an apiary absolutely uninfected by it. Many a beginner
in apiculture has been so disheartened, and has suffered such severe
loss from foul-brood in his hives, that he has given up bee-keeping
in disgust. We need hardly say that any man who knowingly sold hives
with foul-brood in them, would deserve to be visited with penalties
for damages, which we have no doubt his victim could obtain by legal
process.
Some writers enumerate _vertigo_, or giddiness and staggering, among
the diseases of bees. We incline to the belief that cases of the kind
observed were due to the individuals having been stung in fighting,
though it is possible that mistakes in pasturage _may_ occasionally be
made, and that the nectar of certain flowers may induce disorder in the
bee-constitution. We, however, doubt the likelihood of the quick senses
of the insect being at fault with regard to food which will prove
hurtful.
One other malady has been occasionally noticed, viz., the swelling of
the terminal segments of the antennæ. The occurrence of this mischief
is too rare to need further remark, beyond the suggestion that it may
be the result of _microbe_ germs having made a lodgment in the tender
organs affected.
There is a striking analogy in the results of insanitary conditions,
and the propagation of zymotic disease among the human family and
among bees. Unwholesome food, defective ventilation, the diffusion
of poisonous germs, produce, among both orders of beings, similar
disastrous effects; and this sketch of the diseases of one class of
domesticated insects may serve to point a moral for the guidance of
mankind in social economy. The same inexorable laws of health and
sickness prevail in the highest and the inferior orders of animal
existences, and with unvarying steadfastness is proclaimed the solemn
warning "Be not deceived: God is not mocked. Whatsoever a man soweth
that shall he also reap."
CHAPTER XVI.
THE ENEMIES OF BEES.
Birds--Mice--Moths--_Braula cœca_--Hornets and Wasps--Spiders--
Toads--"Robber Bees"--Prevention of robbing.
It might well be imagined that creatures armed with such deadly weapons
as bees, would have few enemies who would dare to contend with them.
The fact is, however, that they are exposed to dangers from numerous
sources. Various kinds of wild birds, domestic fowls, mice, certain
species of moths, hornets, wasps, ants, spiders and toads, are more or
less destructive to them.
Among the common birds fond of these insects as food, may be mentioned
the titmouse tribe. Mr. Hunter says he has found hundreds of stings
of bees adhering to a fence, evidently extracted by these active
and clever little birds previous to swallowing their prey. Their
depredations, however, are usually not great, and they are often
satisfied to regale themselves on the dead insects which are carried
out of the hive. In America, the King-bird (_Tyrannus muscicapa_) is
mentioned by Langstroth as devouring scores of our winged friends,
which he does not hesitate to seize on flower-blossoms, showing,
indeed, a sensible preference for those who are distending their
honey-bags with nectar. The swallow was credited by the Greeks with
being a robber of apiaries, as the address of the old poet indicates:--
"Attic maiden, honey-fed,
Chirping warbler, bear'st away
Thou the busy buzzing bee,
To thy callow brood a prey?
Warbler, thou a warbler seize?
Winged, one with lovely wings?
Guest thyself, by summer brought,
Yellow guests whom summer brings?
Wilt not quickly let it drop?
'Tis not fair; indeed, 'tis wrong,
That the ceaseless warbler should
Die by mouth of ceaseless song." [6]
[Footnote 6: Translation given in _Langstroth on the Honey-Bee_.]
We have no reason to charge our swallows with the crime of bee-eating.
Domestic fowls will sometimes regale themselves with a meal of live
bees, it they can reach the entrances to the hives, so that it is
advisable to forbid their access to them. Mice occasionally effect an
entrance, especially into skeps, and annoy the inhabitants by their
disagreeable odour, and by gnawing the combs, and eating brood and
honey. The winter is the time when there is most danger from these
plunderers, as the bees are then too torpid with the cold to notice
and to attack the intruders. It is easy to prohibit their inroads, by
sufficiently contracting the entrances, and preventing their gnawing
the rims of the hives, or getting under the top coverings.
Moths, being active at night, require constant watchfulness on the
part of the bee-sentinels to exclude them from their abodes. Attracted
partly by the favourable conditions for egg-hatching, through the
steady warmth kept up in the hives, they lay their eggs in crevices,
and along the borders of bee-homes. The larvæ, when able to crawl, make
their way over the combs, which, with their contents, they greedily
devour, and if attacking in large numbers they sometimes prove fatal to
a stock.
[Illustration: Fig. 42.--The Enemies of Bees.]
The two kinds most destructive are the British wax-moth, _Achroia
grisella_, and the _Galleria mellonella_. The latter is more
troublesome in Italy than in our own country. If the population of a
hive be strong and in thoroughly sound condition, there is not much
danger to be apprehended from either of these foes. Should, however, a
colony be weak, and still more if queenless, such a hold may be gained
by these their lepidopterous enemies, as will be wholly ruinous. Combs
in store are yet more liable to their attacks, but the moths may be
dislodged, and their eggs or larvæ destroyed, by exposing such combs
to the fumes of burning brimstone. An examination of hive-coverings
and floor-boards in the spring and autumn, and the destruction of all
grubs found about them, will often save much trouble from the moths.
The presence of these intruders among the combs may be detected by
the occurrence of their excrement, resembling grains of very fine
gunpowder, on the floor-boards.
The death's-head moth, _Acherontia Atropos_, is also said, by some
writers, to be troublesome to apiarians; but it is too rare an insect
to be seriously destructive. A parasitic louse, called _Braula
cœca_, is occasionally found in considerable numbers in hives on the
Continent. Happily, the English climate does not appear to suit its
constitution well, so that its occurrence is not very frequent, and is
generally the result of the introduction of Ligurians and other foreign
varieties into an apiary.
Pre-eminent among the enemies of bees stand hornets and wasps,
particularly the latter in the autumn of the year. They are active,
courageous, and persistent robbers; and, unless the hive-entrance be
well guarded, they will slip in, and, escaping notice, will pilfer
the honey without stint. So determined are their attacks, that they
will utterly ruin weak colonies, and will sometimes so dishearten even
tolerably vigorous ones, as to make them desert their hives. When once
they have learnt there are stores to be plundered, they do not fail
to come in numbers if they know that only a feeble resistance will
be offered to them. Various means of stopping their depredations may
be adopted. The most radical measure is to destroy queen-wasps in the
spring. They are the only ones in existence then, and are considerably
larger than their worker-daughters. Again, every wasp's nest in the
neighbourhood of an apiary should be got rid of, by pouring gas-tar
into the entrances, and ramming earth over it. Thirdly, by hanging a
narrow-necked bottle of sweetened beer near the bee-hives, many wasps
will be attracted to the liquid; and, becoming surfeited and silly,
will be unable to escape, and will be drowned. A fourth precaution
is to narrow the entrances of the hives, so that one or two bees can
defend them. The sentinels are able to master these their enemies in
fair fight; indeed, the wasps rarely show any inclination for a battle.
They trust to their activity and boldness, rather than to any real
courage. The best preventive measure is to keep the stocks of bees
strong. It is usually only the weak who suffer serious attacks from
their insect enemies.
Spiders prove a nuisance and destructive, chiefly by spinning webs into
which the weary workers fall when returning home, or into which they
unwarily rush on emerging from their abodes. Care in sweeping away the
cobwebs will remove danger from this source.
Toads are credited, or charged, with a love of honey-filled bees, and
may sometimes be seen watching their opportunity of making a meal near
the entrances, where they are said to pick up many a dainty morsel with
honey-sauce ready made. These slowly-moving creatures may easily be
caught and taken away, so as to do no more mischief.
We must not pass from this part of our subject without speaking of the
aptness of bees to rob one another. If an unfortunate individual makes
the mistake of going to a hive not its own, it will immediately be
seized as an intruder. In the hope of propitiating the assailants, it
will extend its proboscis, and offer some of its internal honey-store.
Nor will the custodians refuse to accept what is evidently intended as
a peace-offering; but they will not cease their attempt to drag off
or to kill the interloper, who is happy if able to escape from the
onslaught. This kind of robbery is, in a manner, to be regarded as
justifiable.
Such is not the case, however, with the organised or desultory pillage
which frequently goes on when the inability of a stock to defend itself
has been discovered by its neighbours. We have known the contents of
a hive completely cleared out by "robber-bees" in a few hours, crowds
of them rushing in and filling themselves. Then, having carried the
spoil to their own homes, they will return again and again, till
there is nothing left for them to plunder. Of course the community
attacked wholly perishes in the battle or from starvation. Nor is
this the worst of such an occurrence; for, when once these unhallowed
sweets have been tasted, when these insects--it must be confessed,
of very low morality--have discovered that robbery is much more easy
and more productive of results than honest work, they appear seized
with a perfect mania for living as freebooters, and will attempt hive
after hive, when their first onslaught has been effective. Terrible
mischief is often the result; for, not only is the habit of ordinary
nectar-seeking broken off, but fierce battles are fought with strong
stocks, and many hundreds of the combatants perish. Moreover, the
ordinary avocations of an assailed colony are completely interrupted,
and general disturbance, if not complete disorganisation, prevails.
Such a disastrous state of things is sometimes begun by carelessness
on the part of the bee-keeper, in allowing pieces of honey-comb to lie
about within reach of any of his stocks. The taste of the sweet liquid,
for which they have a perfect passion, seems to act like a glass of
gin on an abstainer who has formerly been a drunkard. Their thirst
for more is fired, and, once enkindled, will not easily subside. It
is particularly necessary, therefore, especially in the late summer
and the autumn, when supplies from flowers begin to fall short, to
take care not to provoke the lust of having honey at all hazards, by
allowing any to be exposed to the smelling or other perceptive powers
of the bees. It is equally important in feeding stocks to prevent any
exposure of the syrup, and not to permit stranger-bees to get at the
feeding-bottles.
If the mischief of robbing is detected in its early stage, much may
be done to stop it by narrowing the hive entrances, so that only one
bee at a time can get in. This will enable the sentinels to examine
each one who tries to enter, and to turn back strangers. If, however,
the evil has taken a serious hold, it is better to close the attacked
hive altogether for a time, and to hang near the entrance a sponge
or cloth soaked in diluted carbolic acid, or some liquid potent and
disagreeable in its odour. If these methods are of no avail, it will
be better to remove the colony to a distance, or to a dark cellar; and
by taking care to secure ventilation, and to give a supply of syrup,
the community, which would otherwise surely perish, may be rescued.
If returned in three or four days to its former stand, it is well to
take the precaution of placing a sloping board before the entrance,
so that its exact position may escape the notice of would-be robbers.
These can often be detected early in their operations by their hovering
restlessly in front of a hive, without the courage to settle, or,
perhaps, because they do not know precisely where the opening is. A
shower from a watering-pot will sometimes send them about their own
proper business.
Another method for stopping robber-bees from their plundering is
to put at night into the hive attacked a small quantity of some
strongly-smelling substance--a little musk, for example. The unwonted
odour seems to rouse the inhabitants, and if they have a healthy queen,
they will, in the morning, resolutely meet the robbers. Moreover, if
any of these get in, the musk will so scent them that when they return
to their own hives they will not be recognised by their own people,
but will be put to death; and thus a double check is put on their
depredations.
It is a remarkable fact that, if a robbed colony be queenless, or if
the queen is killed in the _mélée_, survivors from the fight will often
fall to on the remnants of the stores, and, joining the forces of the
conquerors, will convey the honey to the hive whose inhabitants are
the plunderers, and will be peacefully accepted as citizens among its
population. Of course the absence or the slaughter of a queen much
more readily exposes her disheartened subjects to attacks from other
bees; and this is another reason for seeing that no such calamity as
queenlessness has befallen any stock when food is scarce.
In the facts recorded in this chapter we have striking evidence of "the
struggle for existence" which seems to have been ordained as "a law
of nature" in this world. We can readily discern some useful purposes
connected with it, both as regards conquerors and vanquished. For, on
the one hand, it is for the benefit of the race that the strongest
individuals should, as a rule, survive to propagate it; and, on the
other, it is better for a sharp and speedy end to occur to a weak
community, rather than that it should perish by the slow pangs of
hunger, or from inability to continue the rearing of a progeny. But,
even in this respect, as in several others, bees furnish a serious
difficulty to the theory of evolution. For it is not the strong and
victorious community which propagates the race, but the individual
queen; and she, of course, may be weaker than the one whose stock has
been destroyed by the more numerous robbers. The case evidently is not
a genuine one of "survival of the fittest," so far as the succeeding
generations are concerned; nor do we find any special adaptation for
future advantages secured. The battle is lost and won, but there can be
no impress made, even by successive victories, on the general physical
condition of the stronger party; for the fight is never undertaken
by a single drone or queen, who alone can transmit any qualities to
posterity.
CHAPTER XVII.
HIVES.
Natural Abodes of Wild Bees--Taking Honey from Roof of House--
Straw Skeps--Cottager's Hive--Supering--Nutt's Collateral
Hive--Village Hive--Woodbury Hive--Abbott's Hives--Sectional
Supering--Stewarton Hive--Carr-Stewarton Hive--Observatory
Hives--Bee-houses.
In a state of nature bees avail themselves of hollow trees, crevices in
rocks, or other cavities of various kinds. Swarms escaped from apiaries
will frequently find an entrance to the space between the roof and
upper ceilings of houses, and extraordinary quantities of comb, brood,
and bees have been taken from such places. Two gentlemen, well known
to the writer, have given the following account in _The Bee Journal_
for July 1, 1882, of their successful taking of bees, brood, comb, and
honey, from the roof of a house at Lockinge, near Wantage, Berks.
"The house is very old, and built of lath and plaster in the old style,
with gables. There was a bricklayer at our service to open walls where
suggested. We commenced at the back gable, and the bees were situated,
one lot in the roof, and two others in the walls.
[Illustration]
"No. 1 in the wall was the first opened. There was a space eight or
nine inches wide, and five feet long, and there was disclosed to us a
wonderful sight In front of us were continuous honey and brood-combs,
four feet six inches long, and as wide as the opening. The combs were
four in number. Then we took No. 2 (next above), and in a similar
opening found a quantity of brood, honey, and bees, the combs being
smaller. Then we ascended to No. 3, where the bees entered by the
eaves. After taking some splendid honey, some gathered by a swarm a
month old, the bees took a turn further in the roof, and we left them.
In the front gable we commenced cutting away the lath and plaster of
the top lot, and opened a space six feet long and eight or nine feet
wide; and here we were surprised in the extreme: a comb five feet six
inches long (exactly one foot more than the other) was in front, and
the combs were three feet deep, nearly as wide as the opening. We
captured two queens and a large quantity of bees, and brought away a
lot of brood as well. The whole of this work was done from a ladder;
and had not our time been precious, we should have liked another day
at it, as there were a quantity of bees, &c., still left behind. The
combs were measured in the presence of the host and a friend, as well
as ourselves, and I vouch for the correctness of my statement."
From the time that man learnt the value of the bee as a domesticated
insect, habitations more or less suitable for securing honey have been
furnished to the industrious workers. It is unnecessary to detail the
various kinds of abodes which have been, or still are, in use for the
purpose in different countries. It will be more interesting to our
readers to know what are the principal forms of hives at present in use
among us. Of these the most antiquated, and, we fear we must say, still
the commonest, is the old-fashioned dome-shaped straw skep. We shall
not enlarge upon its merits, though we are prepared to admit some; but,
as it is almost universally condemned in its primitive form by skilled
apiarians, we prefer to speak of some easy modifications of it which
render it less objectionable.
[Illustration: Fig. 43.--Straw Skep.]
In the first place, it must be borne in mind that every system which
requires the slaughter of the bees for securing honey from them, is
radically bad, and therefore _wholly_ to be discountenanced. At the
same time, every bee-keeper expects, and rightly, that he should get
honey; and this can be managed even with straw hives, if they have a
flat top and a perforation in it sufficient to allow the population
to go up into supers, wherein to store their produce. Fig. 44 shows
such an adaptation. The lower and larger receptacle is for brood and
the maintenance of the stock. The top one, much smaller, and not so
high, is for the surplus honey, which the bees will carry up when the
population is becoming crowded below. The middle and smallest is merely
a covering for the other two, and for the sake of keeping all warm,
dry, and snug.
[Illustration: Fig. 44.--Flat-topped Hive and Straw Super.]
An improved Cottager's Hive (Fig. 45) differs from the preceding
chiefly in the substitution of a glass for a straw super, and the
addition of a window at the back,[7] closed by a door, for observing
the internal conditions of the stock portion.
[Footnote 7: In the illustration the hive is turned round on the
floor-board, to show the window.]
[Illustration: Fig. 45.--Neighbour's Improved Cottager's Hive.]
A still better modification is shown on the opposite page (Fig. 46),
and is called, from the inventor and maker, "Neighbour's improved
Cottager's Hive." In this the lower part has a stout wooden top with
three perforations, which may be closed, at the will of the owner, by
a metal slide. Over each opening is placed a bell-glass, and admission
to these is given to the bees either singly, or by two or all three
apertures. In use, the bell-glasses are encased with flannel, felt, or
some other good non-conducting substance, and then the upper hive is
let down over the glasses on to the board. There are three windows in
the lower hive, each closed by a hinged shutter, so that inspection may
be afforded at more points than one.
[Illustration: Fig. 46.--Neighbour's Improved Cottager's Hive.]
Each bell-glass is furnished with a ventilating tube of perforated
zinc, and a ventilating cap is fitted to the top cover. There is also
in the middle of the back window a thermometer fixed, for ascertaining
the temperature of the stock-hive. By these arrangements the affairs of
the community may, to a certain extent, be regulated by the master, and
pure honey, free from bee-bread or brood, may be secured without the
destruction of any of the workers.
The three hives now described are, perhaps, the best for those who
have not the requisite time and skill for the more approved methods of
apiculture. But they should, in other cases, be looked upon as merely
the stepping-stones to systems of bee-management of a really scientific
character.
Passing now to the notice of some of these, we will draw attention
first to "Nutt's Collateral Hive"--named from its first maker, who may
be considered a pioneer in the improved modern methods.
It consists of three boxes side by side, and having thin wooden
partitions, with six or seven perforations, to admit of the passage
of the bees from one compartment to another. These may be stopped by
zinc slides. In the centre of the top is a wooden cover, to contain
a bell-glass for supering. A ventilator over each of the side-boxes
secures the proper temperature of these. "The grand object," as
explained by Mr. Nutt, "is to keep the end boxes and the bell-glass
cooler than the pavilion or middle box, so as to induce the queen to
propagate her species there only, and not in the depriving (_i.e._
honey-storing) part of the hive. By this means the side and upper combs
are in no way discoloured by brood. The queen requires a considerable
degree of warmth. The bees enjoy coolness in the side-boxes, and
thereby the whiteness and purity of the luscious store are increased."
When the centre box is filled, access to the super and one side-box
may be given by opening the slides. The glass is likely to be filled
first, if kept warm by suitable coverings, and can be removed when the
honey is sealed in the combs. If the season be very productive, one or
both of the side-boxes may also be taken before the end of the summer,
if sufficient stores are left in the central stock-portion, or if any
deficiency be made up by judicious feeding.
[Illustration: Fig. 47.--Modern Hives. Nutt's Collateral Hive in the
Foreground.]
The next and most important modification to which we come is the
introduction of movable frames into hives, admitting of separate
removal, either for examination as to conditions, or for the taking of
honey. Bevan whose admirable work on _The Honey Bee_, published nearly
half a century ago, is the foundation of modern systems of apiculture
in this country--speaks of a straw hive with bars, instead of a solid
top, invented by Mr. Golding, and named by him "The Village Hive." Even
now we consider this variety might well be the cottager's introduction
to the more enlightened methods of procedure; and it would, at the same
time, satisfy, in large measure, old-fashioned prejudices in favour
of straw for the material of the stock-hive. If the bars are properly
furnished with "guides," straight and symmetrical combs may be secured,
and the depriving of surplus honey-stores may be easily effected
without murdering the workers.
Previous to this invention, Réaumur, Bonnet, and Huber had suggested,
and tried, the use of boxes with movable bar-frames. The last named
apiarian is said to have borrowed his idea from the inhabitants of
Candia, and he called it the "leaf-hive." In its original form it had
eight frames, secured to each other by hooks and eyes, the external
ones being glazed, and covered with a shutter.
The idea of frames removable separately having once been established,
various improvements were speedily effected. In 1841 Major Munn, an
English-man, obtained a patent in France for his Bar-and-frame Hive,
an account of which was published in this country in 1844. In America,
the distinguished apiarian Langstroth made known his modifications
of Huber's hive, and Dzierzon, in Germany, a little while before,
and quite independently, had adopted the same principle of bars with
certain special features, while Von Berlepsch, in 1853, added frames to
his countryman's bars. In England the _bar-frame_ system was not really
known till its re-introduction by Tegetmeier, in 1860. Mr. Woodbury,
to whom reference has been already made more than once, afterwards
brought out the frame-hive which met with the first general acceptance
by apiarians in this country.
[Illustration: Fig. 48.--The Woodbury Hive.]
[Illustration: Fig. 49.--Woodbury Straw Bar-Frame Hive.]
As originally made, it consisted of a wooden box, 14-1/2 inches square
on the inside, and 9 inches deep. The frames were ten in number, each
13 inches long by 7-1/4 inches high. The ends projected, and fitted
into notches at the back and front; but this arrangement was found to
be objectionable, from the secure manner in which the bees were able to
glue them down with propolis. As facility of lifting without jarring
the frames is of great importance, better means of keeping them in
place had to be, and have been, devised.
Subsequently to his first introduction of the above-described hive,
Mr. Woodbury suggested that the sides, back, and front should be made
of straw, as being a better non-conductor of heat, affording a little
ventilation, and absorbing the moisture of respiration more readily
than wood. We give a figure on page 157 of this modification.
Various improvements on the original of Mr. Woodbury's pattern have
been made. Of these we will mention first Mr. Cheshire's bar-frame
hive, and we had better, perhaps, describe it in his own words:--"It
consists of two main portions--the super-cover, the upper half of
what may be denominated the body, and the hive proper, in the lower
portion of which breeding is carried on, and where the bees pass the
winter. In front of the lower part may be seen the porch, with its
roof consisting of a stout piece of pine, about three inches wide, and
running completely along the hive-face. This is chamfered off towards
the end, the more effectually to carry away drip, and has a channel
near its front edge, which acts as a gutter, by which the rain is
conveyed to its ends. This gutter is shown in the cross-section at E.
The bottom board of the hive projects 2-1/2 inches along the front, so
as to form a very convenient alighting board. Ten inches of the central
part of this is grooved, so that, should it be reached by driving rain,
the convex parts remain free of water, affording the bees a dry passage
to the interior. The flight-hole is ten inches in length, and is formed
by cutting from the hive-wall a piece a full quarter of an inch
deep. There are two sliding shutters (shown in Fig. 50), by which the
entrance-way may be regulated as occasion may require. The super-cover
is hinged, and so contrived by the aid of a chain, that it can only
open until its lines, horizontal when _in situ_, become perpendicular,
and _vice versâ_.
[Illustration: Fig. 50.--Cheshire's Bar-Frame Hive.]
"The walls of the hive are double, and have between them a space
containing dead air. As heat is conducted by air with extreme slowness,
these means prevent the escape of that generated by the bees during
rigorous weather, while they also exclude the ardour of the sun's rays
during summer. In order to give room for the ears of the frames, the
inner skin, front and back, is made an inch shallower than the outer
one. Standing three-eighths of an inch above the former are two strips
of zinc (1 and 2 Fig. 51) each about an inch wide, and which serve to
carry the frames so that they cannot be propolised, while they can be
slid backwards and forwards with the greatest ease during manipulation.
The depth of the hive is 8-3/4 inches, the width 14-1/2 inches inside.
The length will vary with the number of frames used." Fuller details
are to be found in Mr. Cheshire's excellent book called _Practical
Bee-keeping_.
[Illustration: Fig. 51.--Cheshire's Bar-Frame Hive (sectional view).]
Mr. Abbott, the well-known maker of apparatus of all kinds for
apiculture, who was the editor and proprietor of _The Bee Journal_ for
many years, has also made various arrangements and improvements to
secure advantages beyond those of the original Woodbury hive. We cannot
detail all these modifications; but among them may be mentioned that
the ends of his frames are so notched as to render them easily held by
the fingers when it is required to lift them, and to replace them. Mr.
Abbott also makes hives of various degrees of cheapness, according to
the conveniences required and the neatness of workmanship demanded. We
may safely attribute to him a vast influence on scientific bee-keeping,
and a visit to his works and apiary at Southall, not far from London,
on the Great Western Railway, will well repay any one interested in
apiculture.
[Illustration: Fig. 52.--Abbott's Standard Frame.]
[Illustration: Fig. 53.--Abbott's Standard Frame (top view).]
All the hives we have just been describing are adapted for supering,
_i.e._ for getting honey stored in receptacles above the stock portion.
The usual and most convenient form of such receptacles is that of small
oblong cases, without front or back, cut in one flat piece of wood,
and easily folded into shape, their slotted ends fitting, by pressure,
tightly into one another. At the top of each, when folded, a small
piece of guide comb is attached, as a help and an attraction to the
bees in beginning their work in them.
[Illustration: Fig. 54.--Neighbour's Sectional Super (Open).]
[Illustration: Fig. 55.--Frame Super.]
[Illustration: Fig. 56.--Glass Frame Hive, with Super.]
It is usual now to pack a certain number of these into a frame or
"crate," so that they may conveniently be placed upon, or removed from,
the top of a hive. If kept properly warm, and well protected by their
cover, not only do the bees, when needing room for storage, readily
take to them, but they afford means of collecting, in a very neat,
attractive, and convenient form, large quantities of purest and sealed
honey. Thousands of hundred-weights are now annually secured in this
manner in our own country, and tons of such filled sections are every
year imported from America, from which country, we believe, was derived
this ingenious little invention, which has done so much towards the
promotion of the pleasure and profit of bee-keeping among us.
Some people, however, still prefer to secure their super-honey in
bar-frames similar, except in point of depth, to those of the stock
hive. Such an arrangement may be seen on the preceding page, which
represents one made by Messrs. Neighbour and Son.
A form of hive first brought out at Stewarton, in Scotland, and named
after the place of its original manufacture, is a great favourite with
many bee-keepers, and certainly often yields admirable results in the
way of super-honey. We are warranted, therefore, in giving some account
of it.
It consists (see Fig. 57) ordinarily of four octagonal boxes. Three of
these, _A_, _B_, and _C_, are called "body-boxes," and serve as abodes
for the bees, for nurseries and supplies of food, for rearing the young
and for winter use. Each is fourteen inches in diameter in the widest
parts, and five and a-half inches deep inside. Nine bars range along
the top of each. These are not movable, but serve as guides to the bees
for building straight combs. Between them, and beyond the outer ones,
are ten narrow strips made to slide in grooves in the bars, so that the
top is completely and securely covered. The figure represents the way
in which the slides shift. The top box _D_ is that in which the honey
to be taken by the bee-master is stored. It is four inches in depth,
its other dimensions being similar to those of the boxes below it. It
is furnished with only seven or eight, instead of nine bars, the object
being to induce the bees to build longer cells for depositing honey in.
This not only secures a greater quantity for less expenditure of wax,
but prevents the queen laying eggs in them, if she should go up into
the top box.
[Illustration: Fig. 57.--Stewarton Hive.]
For her majesty, finding it impossible to reach the bottom of the cells
to place her eggs as she has been accustomed to do, will retire to the
lower boxes, where she finds places perfectly adapted to her instincts
or her needs. The honey is thus kept free from brood, and it presents
a massive and rich appearance. Bees seem greatly to appreciate this
form of hive, and a strong swarm will often fill the two lower boxes
with comb in ten days. To get the full advantage, however, of this
system, it is best to put a swarm into each of the lower compartments,
or in the first and third, if two colonies of bees cannot be procured
on the same day. If they be kept asunder a few days by slides with
perforations, to let their odours commingle, they may be allowed to
join their forces, and the queens will settle the sovereignty by a
battle, ending in the death of the weaker. When the stock-boxes have
become well filled with bees, admission may be given to the honey-box,
and, in a good season, splendid combs of honey may be secured in
this way. We have seen supers of great weight and beauty taken from
the Stewarton hive. Its merits have been well described from time to
time in _The Journal of Horticulture_ and _The Bee Journal_, by a "A
Renfrewshire Bee-keeper."
Mr. C. W. Smith designed a modification of the above hives which he
named the Carr-Stewarton. In it the square form is substituted for the
octagonal, so as to secure the interchangeability of all combs--an
important matter in the practical affairs of an apiary.
The chief points of recommendation in the Stewarton hive seem to
be, its excellence as winter quarters for its inhabitants, and the
readiness with which large quantities of super-honey are stored in it.
In order that some of the wonders of bee-work may be seen in the
process of performance, various arrangements have been made,
constituting what are called "Observatory Hives." In these glass is
substituted for wood in the sides, shutters being fixed over them to
exclude the light. In some cases Venetian blinds are used instead of
shutters. The frames with the combs are sometimes arranged vertically
in one or two series, and sometimes laterally a dozen or more standing
one behind another. In the latter instance both the top and the sides
are of glass.
[Illustration: Fig. 58.--The Carr-stewarton Hive.]
The whole hive may be made to revolve by means of two iron wheels, the
one fixed to its bottom, the other to a stout board running its whole
length. In the centre of the floor-board there is an opening into a
passage below, which leads to the open air. This arrangement enables
the hive to be turned in any direction without interfering with the
egress and ingress of the bees. If the queen with her attendants cannot
be found on one side of the combs, the other side may be brought into
view by rotating the hive, and the different classes of the population
can be studied, and their work surveyed in security and continuously.
[Illustration: Fig. 59.--Unicomb Observatory Hive.]
The unicomb hive may be stocked in various ways. The simplest plan is
to take from a bar-frame hive the comb on which the queen is, and put
it into the unicomb hive with as many more empty frames as will fill
all the space intended for their reception. In this way new clean comb
will be made, giving a much better appearance to the colony. Another
plan is to take brood-comb in frames sufficient in number to fill the
hive at once. The bees will then make a queen for themselves, and the
interesting process may be watched in all its stages, provided, of
course, that there are some freshly-laid worker-eggs in the cells.
It is not advisable to try to keep the bees alive in an observatory
hive during the winter, because so much heat is lost by absorption
through the glass sides and top. It is best, therefore, to replace the
frames and their tenants, early in the autumn, in the ordinary wooden
hives.
Much discussion has taken place among apiarians as to the merits
of bee-houses. Those who advocate their use do so on the following
grounds: Firstly, the protection afforded by a permanent building to
contain the stocks, secures them from dangers of severe storms of wind,
hail, rain, and snow. The first kind of tempest is apt to overthrow
hives; the second to terrify the bees by the violence of the impact
of the ice-drops; the third to saturate the floor-boards, and even
to penetrate the top coverings; and the last will sometimes choke up
the entrance-holes, and cause the suffocation of the bees. Secondly,
for manipulating purposes in all weathers the shelter of a bee-house
is very convenient, beside diminishing the danger of chilling the
brood under examination. Thirdly, hives under cover of a roof are less
affected by sun and moisture, and last longer without requiring paint,
than if exposed to all weathers.
Those who advocate the placing of each hive on a separate stand in
the open air, allege the following objections to bee-houses: Firstly,
that of expense. Secondly, that they form a shelter for mice, moths,
spiders, &c. Thirdly, that they promote dampness. Fourthly, that they
encourage robbing by the bees. Fifthly, that they are inconvenient
for manipulating, by causing disturbance in neighbouring hives while
operations are going on. Sixthly, that they tend to the loss of young
queens returning from their marriage flight, by the sameness of
appearance in the entrances, and the nearness of the hives to each
other.
We cannot discuss the replies given to most, if not all of these
objections; but must content ourselves with saying that we advise all
who have a shed which can be converted into a bee-house, or who do not
mind the expense of putting up a building, to secure the advantages
of such a shelter, and to take the easy precautions against possible
inconveniences.[8]
[Footnote 8: An able paper, on this subject, by the Rev. G. Raynor, may
be found in The Bee Journal for February 1st, 1882.]
CHAPTER XVIII.
NATURAL SWARMING.
General Facts connected with Swarming--Reconnoitring--Settling--
Hiving--Curious Incidents--Transferring Swarms to Bar-Frame
Hives--Division of Swarms--Placing Swarm in Permanent Position
--Number of Bees in Swarming--"Casts" and Later Swarms--Prevention
of Swarming--Feeding of Swarms.
The facts detailed up to this point will enable the subject of swarming
both natural and artificial to be understood very clearly, and we will
now speak of this most important matter in its various bearings.
Firstly, it must be mentioned that swarming is the result of so great
an increase in the population of a hive that work cannot efficiently
be carried on, in consequence of the crowd of bees. In ordinarily good
seasons the queen has produced so large a progeny by the second or
third week in May, that a colony will be ready to start. The workers,
being previously impelled by the growing numbers of the hive, will
have prepared some royal cells. As the time for the emerging of the
princesses approaches, the old queen, in her rage at the thought of
coming rivals, attempts to destroy her future compeers. In this,
however, she is thwarted by her otherwise obsequious attendants. In
her wrath, she utters a succession of shrill, angry notes, having the
sound of "peep, peep." To this one or more of the unhatched queens
will reply in similar tones; and these constitute what is known to
bee-keepers as "piping." It is especially noticeable previous to the
issue of swarms after the first, and may be heard, particularly in the
morning and evening, on placing the ear to the side or back of a hive
about to send off another colony, and especially about the eighth day
after the first issue.
Another indication of the approach of swarming is the clustering of
bees in idleness near and outside the entrance of the hive. This is
specially observable if, through unfavourable weather, an enforced
delay occurs in the departure of the colony.
When the old queen has become sensible that she must depart with a
portion of her subjects, she usually chooses a fine morning for her
exodus; and, under ordinary circumstances, takes her flight between
the hours of ten and one in the day. Occasionally, however, from some
cause, she will delay her start, and the writer has had one instance in
his own experience in which the swarm came out at the unusually late
hour of a few minutes after five in the afternoon.
All the bees who are about to accompany their sovereign, take the
precaution of securing a supply of food sufficient to last them
several days; for they instinctively know they will be so occupied in
wax-making and the internal preparations of their new home, that there
will be no opportunity for them to get supplies out of doors, while,
of course, they expect to tenant an empty dwelling. When all is ready,
and their honey-bags are distended to the full, they rush to the
entrance, from which they excitedly pour by hundreds and thousands.
Among them is their proper sovereign; for, as we have already hinted,
it is always, except in the rarest cases, that the old queen heads, or
rather accompanies, the swarm. Dzierzon records one case in which the
old queen refused to quit the hive, and three strong swarms were led
forth, within a few days of each other, by her royal daughters.
[Illustration: Fig. 60.--A Swarm.]
And now, when the main body of the emigrants has issued from their
quarters, the whole air seems alive with the excited, flitting, buzzing
insects. The noise of their humming can be heard for many yards away,
and a novice may well wonder what is to be the end of the commotion.
Ordinarily, however, within a few minutes, after their exodus, it will
be observed that a gathering of a thicker crowd is taking place at some
particular spot most frequently on some low tree or bush. There her
majesty has settled, and at once her loyal subjects assemble around
her, and form a living cluster. Quickly, from all sides, they continue
to gather, and in a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes a dense mass
will be hanging one to the other, till it seems wonderful the queen and
those in the interior of the living ball are not suffocated.
[Illustration: Fig. 61.--"Tanging."]
In country places it is still the custom to beat warming-pans, tin
kettles, frying-pans, or other unmusical vessels, with keys or sticks
or hammers, while the bees are swarming, under the idea that the noise
makes them settle the more quickly. That any effect is produced on
the insects is not any longer believed by apiarians; and there is good
reason for thinking that the origin of the practice was altogether
different from its supposed use. The probability is, that it indicated
at first nothing more than that some one wished to proclaim to the
neighbours the fact of his bees having swarmed, so that he might lay
claim to them wherever they might settle.
It sometimes happens that the inclination to cease flying is delayed
beyond the usual time. It is said by Langstroth that the throwing of
a few handfuls of dust into the air, or the flashing of sunlight by
a mirror among the bees, will have the effect of bringing them down.
Vergil, nineteen centuries ago, pointed out that, in what he called
their battles, but which were probably only the confusions of swarming,
the flinging of dust or earth among them would have a quieting effect.
Sometimes, unfortunately, a strong and wayward queen will lead off her
colony far beyond the precincts of the apiary in which she has been
living. The writer has, during the past season (1883), had to regret
the vagaries of such a queen, who, the previous year, came into his
possession through her abandoning her former master, without giving
any clue as to her ownership; and this year, after twice settling, and
being once hived, within some two hundred yards of the apiary, took
wing again, and was entirely lost, though followed more than half a
mile. Few things are more vexing to the bee-keeper than such mishaps;
and it becomes necessary to take all precautions which are possible
against them. When, therefore, a swarm has once decidedly gathered
into a cluster, it should be shaded from the direct rays of the sun;
for the excitement, the close massing, combined with the natural warmth
of the surrounding air, will raise greatly the temperature of the mass;
and, to escape suffocation, a second flight is sometimes undertaken.
A wet sheet, an umbrella, a sack supported on stout sticks, and many
another simple expedient will answer the purpose of promoting a
requisite coolness.
Next, immediate preparations should be made for hiving. As a rule,
bees, when swarming, are very good-tempered, because they are gorged;
and, like Englishmen, improve in disposition under the influence of
good food. Some curious stories, indeed, have been told of the perfect
inoffensiveness of these insects when thus forming a colony. We will
give two of these, narrated by Bevan.
A gentleman wishing to hive a swarm that had settled on the branch of
an apple-tree, gave the hive in which he was going to place them into
the hands of a maid-servant She, being a novice, and somewhat timid,
covered her head and shoulders with a cloth, to protect her face. On
shaking the tree, most of the bees fell upon the cloth, and quickly
crept under it, covering the girl's chest and neck up to her very
chin. Her master instantly impressed her with the necessity of being
perfectly quiet, and refraining from all buffeting, while he began to
search for the queen. Having found her majesty, he gently removed her;
but, to his disappointment, the swarm showed no signs of following
her. Suspecting at once that there was a second queen in the cluster,
he made another search, and found his supposition was correct. On
securing her, and placing her with a small cluster of bees in the
hive, the rest followed in crowds, till, in two or three minutes, not
a single one was left on the girl, who was thus relieved from her
anxious, and what might have proved most dangerous position, had she
excited and alarmed the insects.
The other incident is no less striking. A skilled bee-master had a
little friend who was very much afraid of being stung. One day, a swarm
having come off, the queen was observed to settle by herself at a short
distance from the cluster. The gentleman at once called the child to
him, that he might show her the queen. Becoming interested in the
somewhat uncommon sight, the girl desired to observe the royal insect
more closely; so the bee-master, having made her put on gloves, placed
the queen in her hand. Immediately the whole of the bees in the swarm
thronged around. With an admonition to the child to remain motionless
and speechless, and without fear to retain her self-possession, the
gentleman quietly covered her head and shoulders with a very thin
handkerchief, and made her stretch out her right hand, in which the
queen was. The swarm at once began to settle, and hung from the girl's
hand and arm as if from the branch of a tree. Delighted at the novelty
of the affair, and finding herself unstung, the child then requested to
have her head uncovered. After a while, when the bees were all quiet, a
hive was brought. By a vigorous shake the swarm was made to fall into
their abode, and every one of the insects was got rid of without the
infliction of a single wound.
Probably it would not often happen that such completely harmless
results would follow such occurrences: for, it is not unfrequently the
case that a few bees, perhaps having joined the swarm without having
had the opportunity to fill themselves with honey, prove somewhat
spiteful; and, notwithstanding the general quietness of a just-emerged
colony, even experienced apiarians by no means always escape punishment
when dislodging a swarm. It is, however, quite easy to secure complete
protection by means of a properly made veil to guard the face and
neck, and gloves to cover the hands. We strongly advise all novices,
therefore, to make use of these preservatives from stings, when
proceeding to get the bees into the hive intended to receive them.
Some persons advise that the skep into which the swarm is to be brushed
or shaken, should be dressed with a mixture of beer and sugar, applied
with a wisp of elder-branch and leaves. It is just possible that the
sweetened liquid may be drunk by some of those not quite satiated
with honey, and that thus an increased quieting influence is exerted
upon the whole mass; but the most skilled apiarians have given up
the practice, in the belief that it is useless, if not positively
mischievous, by wetting the bees, rendering many of them helpless, and
probably destroying numbers of them.
The facility of hiving depends altogether upon the place chosen by the
cluster for settling. From the end of a bough, or from a low shrub or
bush, there is no difficulty in securing the swarm. Taking a clean
skep in one hand, and holding it just under the mass of insects, a
sharp shake is given with the other hand to the branch, and nearly the
whole of the bees will fall into the hive. Comparatively few will fly,
the vastly larger proportion having clung too tightly to one another
readily to disengage themselves. As soon as possible, a floor-board
should be quietly and gently placed over the open end of the skep,
which must now be inverted, so as to rest on the board. One side may be
slightly propped, to afford the flying bees opportunity of more speedy
admission to the interior than the ordinary entrance hole would give
them. Another quarter of an hour or twenty minutes will suffice for
all but a small number of stragglers to join their companions inside.
Meantime, a shade should be again provided, till all have entered.
[Illustration: Fig. 62.--Hiving a Swarm.]
If it is intended to locate the colony in a bar-frame hive, this should
have been also previously made ready, the frames being furnished with
sheets of guide-comb. The coverings being then removed from the top,
and the skep containing the bees held above the frames, by a sharp jerk
downwards, and a rap or two on the top and sides of the straw hive,
all the bees may be made to fall on the bars of the frames. They will
speedily crawl down on to the sheets of guide-comb, especially if a
light cloth be gently laid above them.
Another method of transferring them from the skep is to spread a
sheet, or newspaper, in front of the bar-frame hive, which should be
slightly raised in front from the floor-board. Then, by a smart jerk,
as before, the bees are thrown on to the sheet or newspaper, close
to the entrance, and they will immediately run in and up on to the
comb-foundation.
Sometimes a swarm will divide into two parts, each of which will settle
separately. In such a case, it is tolerably certain that two queens
have emerged together, as very often happens with second or later
swarms. When such a division of forces occurs, unless each portion is
sufficiently large to form a stock by itself, it will be advisable to
hive them separately, and then speedily to unite them, leaving the
rival sovereigns to fight for the supremacy.
Occasionally a colony settles around the stem of a tree, or some place
equally inconvenient for being detached. The difficulty may sometimes
be met by brushing as many bees as can be got at into a hive, or by
holding a hive above the place of settling, and by smoke driving
the insects upwards, till they learn the whereabouts of comfortable
quarters. At other times there is no resource but making the swarm
take to flight, in the hope that a more suitable place will be chosen
by them for their next assemblage. There is a danger, however, that if
thus compelled to move, a too distant excursion may be made, and the
whole colony thus be lost.
As soon as all, or very nearly all, the bees have gone up into the
skep, or into the quarters they are to occupy, it is advisable to
move them to the stand intended for their permanent position. Some
apiarians, however, recommend waiting till evening for taking this
step. We must dissent from their opinion for two reasons: firstly,
because it often happens that, in a place away from the apiary,
something may occur to disturb the bees, and they will forsake the
hive. In fact, last season (1883) we have ourselves lost a valuable
colony, which, through not being brought home at once from the place
where they had settled, were meddled with by a passing dog, and took
another flight far away, and, though followed long and diligently
inquired after, they were not again discovered. Then, too, the sooner
the bees are placed in their proper position, the sooner will those
going in quest of supplies learn their new home. If left so little as
six or eight hours in the spot at which they first settle, many will
continue to hover about it all the succeeding day, and even longer. For
these reasons, therefore, we advocate a speedy carrying of a swarm to
the site selected for it.
It is an established fact that, previously to swarming, bees often
send forth scouts to select a place for settling. Neighbour records
a curious instance of this kind. He says: "A lady, who lived about a
quarter of a mile from our apiary, sent to us to say that a swarm had
gone in at a hole over her stable, and to ask us to come and hive them.
On our going to do so, her gardener told us that he had seen, three
days previous, two or three bees as if reconnoitring; next day several
came, and about eleven o'clock on the third day the whole swarm went
in, and took up their position between the rafters [? joists] under the
flooring. The difficulty was now to get at them. A carpenter was sent
for, the boards were taken up, a hive was set over, with a brood-comb
placed in it attract them, and by dint of smoke and brushing to with a
feather, the queen and her retinue were coaxed to ascend into the hive.
Some of the bees had already gone out to forage, and there were many
flying about that had not settled; so, to secure these, and to make it
easy for them, we brought the hive out, and erected a sort of platform
on a pair of steps close to the hole, which we stopped. By night-time
all the out-flying bees had joined the swarm, and were easily removed."
The number of bees in a swarm varies considerably, but the usual amount
is from 10,000 to 15,000. In rarer cases, there will be from 20,000 to
25,000. Von Berlepsch, by careful experiments, estimated that about
4,000 gorged bees weighed 1 lb.: so that a good swarm will weigh from 3
lbs. to 5 lbs. As may be easily understood, the more numerous the bees,
the better for the future of the colony, provided there is space in the
hive for them to work in.
The hive which has sent forth a colony usually contains large
quantities of brood and eggs, and some cells in which princesses
are more or less developed, so that queens would be provided in
proportional succession. If the stock has been so weakened that it is
not intended, by the workers remaining, that another colony should
issue during the season, the first queen who emerges is allowed to
destroy all her royal sisters remaining in the cells, and she, at once,
avails herself of the opportunity of so doing. If, on the other hand,
the amount of the on-coming brood is very large, and it is manifest
that again the hive will become too crowded, the queen is restrained
from her murderous propensities. She resents this interference by
uttering the sharp cries of "peep-peep," previously mentioned, and is
answered in similar tones by her still imprisoned rival sisters. This
is a sure sign of the approaching emergence of a second colony. Within
two or three days of the piping being heard, the expected event takes
place, though occasionally it may be delayed, by cloudy or wet or cold
weather, till the fifth day. Such a second exodus is called a "cast."
Sometimes in the excitement of "casting" several young queens, who have
been under guard, will escape; and as many as five have been known thus
to issue with a second swarm: indeed, Langstroth mentions one instance
of _eight_ queens having thus left the parent stock at one time. Of
course, when such an event occurs, if all are hived with the general
cluster, they will fight till one only is left to enjoy supremacy in
the community. If the settling of the swarm takes place in two or three
places, it is pretty sure that more than one queen has come forth. It
is best then to search for one or more, and to remove them, to be used,
if necessary, in other hives, and then to unite the separate clusters.
To third and later swarms from the same hive, the fanciful names of
"colts" and "fillies" have been given, but they are going out of
general use.
Swarms subsequent to the first are usually less than it in amount of
bees. For this reason it is advisable not to make them into separate
stocks, unless very strong, but either, after removing the queen, to
return them to the parent hive, or to unite two or more casts, so as to
form one strong colony. It may be remarked that there is this advantage
about a cast, that all the bees, queen included, are young, and so are
likely to work with vigour; and if sent off early in the season, and
naturally or artificially strong in numbers, they may become a powerful
community: but everything will depend upon the two conditions just
mentioned.
Where it is not really wished to increase the number of stocks, it
is much better to prevent "casting," by cutting out all queen-cells
five or six days after the first swarm. The reason of the delay in the
operation is, that, by that time, all eggs and larvæ left by the old
queen will have advanced to a stage at which the workers cannot convert
them into queens, even if they desire to do so.
Another reason, besides the weakness of after swarms, why efforts
should be made to prevent casting is, that the old stock often becomes,
by the swarming mania, too greatly diminished in population to prosper,
and a double loss is incurred--loss of honey, which would be stored
largely by a stock restrained from self-diminution, and loss of general
strength, through there not being bees enough to collect food for
store, and to look after the constantly hatching brood.
A curious illustration of sagacity in the workers is, that casts and
after-swarms, if allowed to build in a box as they please, select a
corner, instead of the middle, for beginning, knowing that, through the
smallness of their numbers, they are unlikely to fill their abode with
comb, and so taking the precaution to secure the snuggest and warmest
position for such combs as they will be able to construct. They feel
that their only chance of surviving as a colony is their being able to
keep up sufficient heat to hatch the eggs, and to bring forward the
brood in the early autumn and the next spring. First swarms, confident
in their strength, commence their work in the middle of a hive.
We have already mentioned that the bees, in swarming, start with their
honey-bags full. This supply will last them about three days. If, at
the end of that time, the weather should be dull and unfavourable for
flying abroad, great benefit will be conferred on the young colony
by giving a supply of syrup. We shall speak later on of the method
in which it is to be administered. As bees waste nothing, and never
remain idle because they have a store of food, whatever is given them
will be economically used. Moreover, they prefer their natural sources
of supply, and will not take advantage of their owner's generosity in
giving them syrup, if they can gather honey. At the same time, the
needs of a new stock are great during the first two or three weeks,
since much wax has to be made, and homes and provender for the coming
young have to be in readiness. It is, therefore, a wise and benevolent
and _paying_ plan to feed all swarms whom the weather prevents from
gathering abundant supplies in the fields. By this means no time is
lost in comb-building: all the workers remain vigorous for flight and
indoor duties: the queen, encouraged by finding no lack of food for
her future offspring, will get on with laying as fast as the cells are
ready to receive her eggs; and thus all the elements of a prosperous
community will be secured.
CHAPTER XIX.
ARTIFICIAL SWARMING.
Advantages--Driving: Close and Open--Transfer to Bar-Frame
Hive--Conditions of Successful Driving--Various Methods of
Artificial Swarming with Bar-Frame Hives.
There are some mortifying incidents connected with natural swarming,
which the skilled apiarian will endeavour to avoid, by taking the
matter of the making of colonies into his own hands. We have spoken
already of the annoyance and trouble often caused by the flying away
of a swarm. This accident at the beginning of the honey-season means,
at least, a loss of what would be worth from a sovereign to thirty
shillings, either in stock or honey. Another, but minor, disappointment
comes from seeing the bees hanging outside a hive in handfuls, idle and
useless, waiting for the queen to come forth with a swarm. In this way
the work of some thousands of bees for several days is lost, and that
often at a time when honey is most plentiful in the fields. Now, both
these difficulties may be met with complete success by what is called
artificial swarming--an operation which is conducted in different ways,
according to the kind of hive to be operated upon.
We will speak of the process called _driving_. This is the method
adopted with the ordinary skep, and is practised as _close_ or _open_
driving. In the first case, the plan pursued is as follows: Into
the entrance-hole of the hive to be operated upon a few good puffs
of tobacco, or other smoke, are blown. This frightens the bees, and
they immediately rush to the cells, and gorge themselves with honey.
After giving them a couple of minutes for this purpose, they become
much more quiet and tractable. If this precaution be not taken, many
of the workers will fly in anger at the operator, and, though he may
be protected by veil and gloves, will greatly disturb the comfort
of his manipulations. The hive is then lifted from its floor-board,
and inverted, _i.e._ turned upside down, on a tub, pail, or pan,
partly filled with water, to keep it firm. Upon it is placed an empty
hive of the same diameter, and round the junction of their rims is
tied carefully a round-towel, or a bandage of some kind, so as to
prevent the escape of any of the bees. At the same time, or as soon
as possible, another empty hive, with a little syrup sprinkled on the
interior, is put on the stand from which the stock has been brought,
so that the bees, who were abroad when their home was removed, may be
amused, or, at least, diverted from going to other hives, where they
would be attacked and slain as robbers. Returning then to the hive from
which the swarm is to be driven, it must be beaten smartly, but not
sharply enough to shake down the combs. A tolerably stout stick in each
hand, or the hands themselves, may be used for the purpose. It is best
to begin gently, and to increase the force of the blows, letting the
drumming be continuous, but not violent. The bees, already terrified by
the smoke blown amongst them, will in the course of a few minutes begin
to run into the upper hive, and a large enough proportion, together
with the queen, will have gone up within ten minutes or a quarter of an
hour. Their passage up may be ascertained by the buzzing sound of the
multitude of vibrating wings; and when this has subsided the cloth may
be taken away, and a large cluster of the driven insects will be found
in the top hive. This should then be placed on the stand from which the
stock was taken, so as to be reinforced by many of the population who
were abroad for supplies. If it is intended to transfer the new colony
to a bar-frame hive, they can be introduced either by being shaken on
to the tops of the frames, to run down between, or thrown on a sheet in
front of the bar-frame hive, which should be slightly propped up, as
already described in speaking of natural swarms thus put into wooden
hives. The old stock, containing much brood and a fair residue of bees,
may be placed at a short distance from its former stand. It will be
sure to have an attraction for many of the adults of its population so
unceremoniously ejected, and some of the most recently hatched will
have refused to quit it. These combined forces will suffice to tend
the brood; and in a few weeks, with a young queen, the tenants will be
almost as numerous as before the driving took place.
_Open_ driving is performed in a similar way, except that the hive,
into which the bees are to be made to ascend, is placed over the other
at an angle, and only resting upon it for three or four inches. It
is supported in this sloping position by skewers or iron wires thrust
through both hives where they touch, and with others to prop them
well open in front. This arrangement frees the hands of the operator:
enables him, in many cases, to watch the going up of the queen an
all-important matter for the success of the artificial swarm: and
gives him the opportunity of judging when a sufficient number of the
stock have been frightened out of their abode to form a satisfactory
colony. The terrified insects make no attempt to escape by the wide
opening free to them, but rush in a continuous stream up the connected
portions of the hives, and form a cluster in the roof of the upper
one. They have filled themselves with honey, and, between repletion
and fright, are as inoffensive as so many flies. We have ourselves had
the opportunity of displaying to two members of the Royal Family the
harmlessness of driven bees, by taking some hundreds with an ungloved
hand, and holding them to the view of Prince Christian and Princess
Beatrice. To the Prince's inquiry, "Why do they not sting?" the reply
was, that they became like Englishmen after a hearty meal--very
good-tempered, an answer which not only amused His Royal Highness, but
was correct as an explanation.
The best time for the operation of driving is near the middle of the
day, when many of the workers are abroad in the fields. Should the
weather be cold, it is advisable to warm the skep into which the
driving is to take place. A further detail of great use in quieting and
reconciling the ejected colony is, to sprinkle between the combs, a
quarter of an hour before driving, some weak syrup, made of one pound
of sugar to one pint of water. A wine-glassful will be enough to use
for one hive, as too large a quantity might seriously wet the bees, and
perhaps glue their wings and limbs harmfully. After settling down in
their new home, they will be occupied with clearing themselves and each
other of the syrup, which will serve also the purpose of still further
replenishing their honey-bags.
It is difficult to get the bees to leave by drumming a hive only partly
filled with comb. They will cluster about the unoccupied portions,
and resolutely refuse to go. In this case they may be ejected on to
a sheet, spread to receive them, by three or four sharp jerks in a
downward direction.
It is advisable not to drive a colony after very hot weather, and when
there is a great in-take of honey: otherwise some of the liquid will
begin to flow out of the cells when the-skep is inverted, and will
cause much trouble and waste, and possibly the destruction of many
bees by drowning them in their trickling stores. It will be better to
wait till the next morning, when evaporation and the coolness of the
night will have thickened the liquid sufficiently for it to remain in
the cells during the manipulation. The combs, also, will have become
firmer, and less liable to fall, with the diminished temperature.
The operation of driving from skeps is abundantly practised by
apiarians, in the autumn, among the hives of those cottagers who would
otherwise follow the old and most barbarous plan of killing their bees
to take the honey. Several stocks of bees thus drummed out of house
and home may be united to form a strong colony. If supplied with frames
of comb, or "foundation," and fed with syrup (made with 2-1/2 lbs. of
sugar to each pint of water, with a dessert-spoonful of vinegar boiled
up with it, to prevent crystallisation), they may be brought safely
through the winter, and become, by the spring-time, well worth the
expense and trouble they have cost.
[Illustration: Fig. 63.--Swarming Board.]
With bar-frame hives the making of artificial swarms becomes an easy
matter, and more than one plan may be adopted. In the first place,
suppose it is desired to transfer into a skep a swarm from a wooden
hive, for sending to a distance. The preliminary operations are as
follows: Towards evening, remove the stock a few yards from its stand,
and have ready the skep on a wide board, and propped up two or three
inches in front. Next puff smoke into the midst of the bees, to quiet
them, and to induce them to fill their honey-bags. Then lift the
frames one after another, and search for the queen till found. Take her
gently between the first finger and thumb, seizing her by the wings,
place her at the entrance of the skep, and see that she runs in. Shake
on to the board, close to the skep, the bees from the frame on which
the queen is found, and, after replacing it in its own hive, take out
and shake off bees from other frames in succession, till a sufficient
amount to make a swarm has been let run into the skep. They, with their
sovereign, will ascend to the crown of their abode, and then may be
secured by tying a cloth over the open part of the straw hive, and
despatched to their destination. Of course the frames must be replaced
in the stock hive as they are cleared. The remaining bees will soon
make a new queen for themselves, and will care for the developing
brood. Judgment must be exercised, so as not to weaken too greatly the
population of the parent-hive.
Another method, still simpler, is to begin operations in the morning
of a bright day, and to shake off the queen and bees from two frames
only, and put the colony on to the old stand, removing the stock to a
distance of a few yards. The bees abroad for supplies will, on their
return, remain with their queen, and make up a sufficiently strong
community; while the young, and those who prefer the old stock, will be
sufficient to meet its requirements.
A third plan is to take the frame on which the queen is, with bees and
brood, and place it, with two or three other frames from the same stock
in another hive, which should be placed on the old stand. Foragers
returning from the fields will, as in the preceding case, reinforce
the new colony, while the stock, moved to a little distance, will soon
repair the loss of their queen, and hatch out young bees in place of
those transferred to another home.
A fourth method is to take two combs from each of several strong
stocks, brushing off all bees with a feather or goose-wing. Then
placing the hive thus filled with comb and brood, on the stand of a
strong stock, the returning bees will take to the home thus presented
to them, and will speedily raise a queen for themselves from one of the
many eggs contained in the brood cells. The displaced hive must, as
in previous instances, be removed a few yards from its old position.
The reason for filling the abode of the new community with frames of
worker-brood, is to prevent the bees from building drone-comb, and
raising males only, as they are apt to do when they have to manufacture
a queen, at least till she is not only hatched but begins to lay eggs.
There are three or four important precautions which are to be
remembered when making artificial swarms. Firstly--swarming should not
be artificially attempted till drones are tolerably numerous, unless a
fertile queen is to be given to the new colony Secondly--honey should
be abundant when the swarm is made, unless a good deal is stored in
the combs removed. If syrup, however, be supplied, all danger from
scanty sources outside will be removed. Thirdly--swarms should be taken
only from the strongest stocks, otherwise both old and new communities
will be, perhaps irretrievably, ruined. Fourthly--it is an immense
advantage to introduce a queen into the hive that has been deprived
of its mother-bee; and with suitable precautions, especially that of
caging the supplied sovereign for thirty-six hours in a receptacle
made for the purpose, there is usually little difficulty in getting
the substitute amicably received by the mourning workers. This plan
not only prevents the loss of two or three weeks of very valuable time
in the rearing and fertilising of a queen, but obviates the danger of
the young queen, when raised, perishing on her wedding-flight, through
being snapped up by a bird, or mistaking the entrance of her hive on
her return.
Various modifications of the above plans may be found in Langstroth,
but enough has been said to indicate the ordinary and simplest modes of
procedure.
CHAPTER XX.
QUEEN REARING.
Protection of Queen-cells--Nucleus Hives--Various Methods
of Queen Rearing--American Plan--Introduction of Stranger
Queens--Difficulties.
The breeding of queens can only be done with ease and complete success
in bar-frame hives. If, on examination of the frames of a stock,
queen-cells with brood in them are found, these may be protected by
means of little wire cages from the animosity of the mother-bee, and in
due course the princesses, as they hatch out, may be transferred to a
small box, with a piece of comb and a few bees belonging to the hive.
Care must be taken not to let the cage touch the cell over which it is
placed, and it should be thrust into the comb only to the base of one
set of cells. The best time for thus affording protection is when the
larva is six or seven days old.
A second plan is to take from a hive, late in the afternoon, a comb
containing worker-eggs, with brood in more advanced stages, and a
sufficient number of bees to keep up warmth enough to promote the
development of the larvæ. These must all be put into a very small
hive, and a supply of honey and water should be given. In the course
of a few days a queen-cell, or cells, will be formed, worker-eggs
transferred into them, and these, in process of time, will come forth
as princesses. When fertilised they will be ready for using in other
hives.
[Illustration: Fig. 64.--Queen Cage over Sealed Cell.]
A third method is to set a small empty hive over a full stock, and,
when the bees using the entrance of the upper one are sufficiently
numerous, a brood-comb with eggs and adhering bees may be placed in the
top hive. Then, in a day or two, the aperture between the two may be
closed, and the nucleus being removed, another can be put in its place,
and the process repeated till as many queens as are required have been
raised.
Fourthly. Two or three combs with brood and honey may be taken
from a hive, and having cut out a nearly triangular piece of comb,
a queen-cell with comb, nearly equal in size to the hole, may be
inserted, as shown in the figure. This will expedite the rearing of
the princess. The bees will soon fill up the intervening spaces, and
the daily emerging young bees will make subjects enough for the young
monarch, till she is needed for the sovereignty of a larger population.
If the miniature stock should dwindle before the young queen lays and
replenishes the numbers, young bees, which have never flown, may be
introduced from other hives, and these will be received with pleasure
by the remaining workers. Or another frame with plenty of bees may be
exchanged for one of the empty ones. This latter plan involves some
danger of fighting, which is avoided by supplying the newly-hatched
young.
[Illustration: Fig. 65.--Inserted Queen Cell.]
The American bee-keepers manage, it is said, to hatch royal larvæ
and pupæ in little boxes heated carefully by a small lamp. We have
not heard of any English apiarians who have pursued this method;
and the probability is that the difficulty of regulating the warmth
accurately, makes the results so uncertain and disappointing as not
to tend to the adoption of the method among us. Like the "incubators"
for the artificial hatching of poultry, so many circumstances combine
to mar hopes cherished in the use of them, that it is altogether more
satisfactory to rely on natural processes for the production of the
young of both fowls and bees.
In all the processes of queen rearing described, we cannot but be
struck with the inextinguishable love shown to the undeveloped young,
and the passionate yearning for a mother-bee displayed by the workers.
It matters not whether the brood presented to them be taken from
their own stock or from another community; they will at once cluster
upon the cells containing larvæ, and devotedly tend them till they
come forth as perfect insects. The emerging progeny may even belong
to another variety, Ligurian, Cyprian, or Carniolan; still the same
complete devotion will be displayed. Nor is the willingness of a
colony to receive an introduced queen affected by the fact of her
belonging to a different race from the subjects to whom she is given.
Yet, we do observe strange differences in the readiness with which
a stranger sovereign is acknowledged. In some instances there is no
hostility manifested to an uncaged queen, who is allowed to run down
among the combs of a community which is without a mother. This is
especially the case with a stock just mourning its discovered loss.
At other times, even with careful introduction, and caging for from
twenty-four to forty-eight hours, so unamiable a temper is displayed,
that the supplied queen is refused; and she is either stung, or,
more frequently, is so thickly clustered around and upon as to be
suffocated. Occasionally, indeed, such a resolute determination is
shown to have no monarch but one of their own raising, that the only
course is to supply brood-comb with eggs to such a community, or
to unite them with another stock which has a queen. We can no more
account for these vagaries of so-called instinct, than we can for those
displayed among human beings endowed with what we consider the higher
faculty of reason.
CHAPTER XXI.
FEEDING.
Troughs--Dangers of this Method--Bottle Feeders--Cheshire's Feeding
Stage--Neighbour's Can Feeder--The "Round Feeder"--Autumn
Feeding--Spring Feeding--Uses of Precautions--Summer Feeding of
Swarms--Flour-cake--Barley-sugar or Sugar-cake--Mr. Hunter's
Recipe.
We have already spoken of the advantages consequent on feeding swarms
for a few days after they emerge, especially if the weather should
be wet, cold, or dull. It is even more important to see that in
spring and autumn, if the stocks require food, it is given to them.
With the old-fashioned skep there are difficulties in the successful
supply of nourishment. The ordinary plan used to be to take a piece
of elder-wood, and having cut it down the middle, and having removed
the pith, to stop the open ends, or manage to have a knot at each,
and then, having filled these long narrow troughs with syrup, to
insert them into the hive by the entrance hole. Several disadvantages
attend this plan. Firstly, there is the danger of spilling some of the
liquid, and so inducing visits of bees from near hives, and setting up
"robbing," with its disasters. Next, it is almost impossible, without
constant attention, to give a proper amount of food thus. Thirdly,
the bees being attracted to the floor of the hive, often become numbed
in cold weather, and perish. Fourthly, where considerable feeding is
necessary, and has to be rapidly done, it is impossible to accomplish
it by this method, except at the cost of immense trouble.
Skeps which have a flat or broad top, with a hole fitted with a cork,
can be supplied in a much better manner by one of the various kinds of
apparatus we shall now describe.
[Illustration: Fig. 66.--Bottle Feeder.]
First, the "bottle feeder" consists of a glass jar (such as pickles,
French plums, jams, marmalade, &c., are sold in), resting on a block,
square or round, as may be convenient, and having a hole cut to receive
the neck of the bottle. Over the hole is fastened a piece of perforated
zinc with very fine meshes. Over the mouth of the battle a piece of
fine net or muslin should be secured by a band round the neck, after
the syrup has been poured In. Then the block having been put over the
hole in the top of the hive, the bottle of syrup may be inverted and
stood in the hollow prepared for it. The bees will soon become aware
of the fact that food is within their reach, and poking their tongues
through the zinc and muslin, they will draw what supplies they need. As
no air can get through the syrup, the liquid will run only as fast as
it is imbibed by the bees, unless, through sun-heat, the bottle should
become so warmed as to cause the air inside to expand, and thrust out
the food faster than it can be drunk. It is easy to avoid this danger
by properly covering the bottle. Another, and still more important,
reason for protecting it is to prevent any bees from another hive
getting at it; for should they do so, robbing is very likely to ensue,
stolen sweets having a most demoralising effect on bees, as well as on
human beings; and this trouble once started, it is difficult to stop it
before all the weak stocks have been plundered and destroyed by their
stronger neighbours.
[Illustration: Fig. 67.--Cheshire's Feeding Stage.]
In order to regulate precisely the quantity of food it may be desirable
to give to a stock, Mr. Cheshire has devised, instead of the muslin
cover, a piece of vulcanite pierced with holes in a particular pattern,
and rotating round a screw in such a way that one, two, three, or any
required number of holes may be open at the same time. He also uses,
and recommends, a small shovel, in which the bottle of syrup is first
inverted. Then, when placed just over the vulcanite plate, the shovel
is quickly withdrawn without the loss of any of the liquid.
This matter of carefully controlling the quantity of food allowed,
is very important in the spring, when it is desired not only to save
impoverished stocks from dying of hunger, but to stimulate well-doing
stocks to early breeding. For, if too abundant supplies of syrup are
given, the bees, in their determination not to miss any opportunity of
storing at a time when there is no honey to be got out of doors, will
fill the middle cells which are nearest the bottle, instead of leaving
them for the queen to deposit eggs in, as she would naturally do, to
secure them the full warmth of the cluster of her subjects.
Another method of supplying food is by means of a tin bottle or can.
Mr. Neighbour describes the one invented by him for continuous supply,
as "six inches wide by six high, with five small holes at the bottom,
and closed by a sliding valve and a screw-top. The can is filled from
the top, with the valve closed, and when the screw-top is made firm,
this valve is drawn back by moving the pin in front. The can is placed
over the feeding-hole at the top of the stock hive, and the bees have
access to it by small holes. The can is on the principle of a fountain;
the screw-top rendering it air-tight, the liquid only escapes as drawn
down by the probosces of the bees. A glass side is let in, to show when
the feeder is empty. It need not be removed for refilling. The capacity
of the vessel is over a quart." The advantages of this apparatus are,
its security against robber-bees; the fact that it can be filled _in
situ_, thus avoiding all escape of warm air in cold weather, and
chilling of the brood; and the facility with which its condition can be
inspected and its store replenished. In addition, it is strong and not
likely to get out of order.
[Illustration: Fig. 68.--Can Feeder.]
[Illustration: Fig. 69.--Round Tin Feeder.]
The "round feeder" is made of zinc or earthen-ware, eight inches
across, and three deep. It is filled by a sloping aperture from the
outside. The bees come up through an opening in the crown of the hives
on to a piece of wood, under a close-fitting tin cap, which keeps in
the heat, and the bees are able to feed without the possibility of
being drowned. The outer lid has to be raised; the liquid food is then
poured into the trough, and is gradually drawn in and consumed. There
is a danger in open troughs or pans, especially of zinc, which must
not be overlooked, and that is the turning acid of the food by great
exposure to the air, and the difficulty of thorough cleanliness without
the waste of a good deal of food.
Of these various plans, the bottle is by far the cheapest, and, with
a little care, it is quite effectual. Various makers of bee-apparatus
have introduced slight modifications in their method, tending to
convenience and safety.
The two special seasons when it may be advisable to give supplies, are
the spring and autumn. When, at the end of February or early in March,
some warm days have promoted activity in the hive, and its inhabitants
are coming forth for flight after their long winter imprisonment,
and are going in search of pollen and other food, it is desirable
to examine the internal condition of affairs, so as to ascertain
whether unwonted activity means scantiness of stores, and the need of
searching outside for food. Should the supply of sealed honey be almost
exhausted, it will be necessary to give a moderate, but continuous,
quantity of syrup to avert starvation. For the reason previously
mentioned, it is well not to err on the side of too great liberality.
Let the bees have little more than enough for their probable daily
wants--say, for a strong stock, about three ounces a day.
It is also important not to fill large bottles with syrup, otherwise
there will be danger of the liquid running too freely, if a very warm
day succeed a cold night, as the air in the bottle will expand too
rapidly from the heat, and force out the syrup, to the imminent danger
of the bees.
But, it is not only starving or much impoverished stocks which may
be advantageously supplied with food early in the spring. If left to
themselves, the wise insects will not promote breeding, till they
can see their way to a constant in-flow of new nourishment for the
rearing of the young. If, then, the queen is encouraged to lay, by an
artificial supply, she will begin depositing her eggs much earlier
than she otherwise would. Moreover, if the mass of the population are
induced to remain at home, instead of going out for honey and pollen,
the warmth of the hive will be better maintained, and the developing
young will have more attendants about them. The most experienced
apiarians, therefore, strongly recommend _careful_ spring feeding;
and one point in the carefulness is the constancy of the supply once
begun, unless there is plenty of honey in the hive. In cases where this
precaution is overlooked, the hungry workers will consume hundreds of
newly-laid eggs, and will drag the young larvæ from the cells, thinking
that their coming to maturity would involve a general starvation. On
the other hand, it is necessary to see that no storage is going on in
the brood part of the combs, through too liberal feeding. In points of
this kind experience is the best teacher, and here the skilfulness of
the bee-master is shown.
Another matter of great importance in spring feeding, is to see that
the syrup supplied is not too thin, otherwise there will be danger
of dysentery. Again, it must be well boiled and properly prepared,
or what happens to be deposited in the cells will crystallise, and
become worse than useless, as the bees can only with great difficulty
consume or remove it in that state. The following is the proper method
of preparation: Take of loaf sugar 3-1/2 lbs., and boil in a quart of
water. While boiling, add a table-spoonful of vinegar, and continue
the boiling for ten minutes more. Strain the liquid, and it is ready
for use. It may, with advantage, be supplied to the bees while it is
lukewarm. The addition of the vinegar is an important point, as it
converts the cane-sugar into glucose, or grape-sugar, which is much
less liable to crystallisation.
In bad weather throughout the spring, the watchful apiarian will give
his bees some artificial food, unless they have abundant stores in
their hives.
Nor must it be forgotten that, if the production of brood is to be
stimulated, some nitrogenous food will be necessary. When crocuses and
willow-blossom are plentiful in the early spring, the bees will collect
sufficient pollen from these sources, to provide for their wants in the
above respect. But, failing a natural supply of such azotised material,
pea-meal forms a good substitute, and is readily made use of by the
workers.
In summer, it is only swarms or casts, as a rule, that ought to be in
any need of this kind of help; but, as autumn comes on, especially if
the bees have been seriously deprived of their hardly-earned supplies,
it will be necessary to make up to them some of that of which they
have been denuded. With skeps, the only guide as to the condition of
food stores is the weighing-machine. If this indicates a less total
than from twenty-five to thirty pounds, it will be advisable to supply
syrup till the requisite weight is attained. With bar-frame hives an
examination of the state of affairs is perfectly easy, and there is
no difficulty in removing combs which are quite empty, and are not
needed for the clustering of the bees. Those which are left should each
contain six or seven inches square of sealed honey, some two square
feet, as a total, being considered about the proper quantity for a
fairly strong stock to winter on.
For ascertaining the state of the hives in autumn, there should be an
inspection of them about the middle of September; and, if necessary,
the feeding should then be begun. It may be continued through October,
but not later; otherwise there are dangers to be incurred. The first
is, lest the evaporation of a certain amount of water from the stored
syrup should not take place, and consequently, being left unsealed in
the cells, it should ferment, and produce dysentery among the bees.
The second is, lest there should not be sufficient warmth in the hive
for the elaboration of the wax needed for sealing the filled cells;
in which case, also, dysentery is likely to occur, when the immatured
syrup is consumed.
Syrup given in autumn must be thicker than that supplied in spring,
and should be made of five pounds of sugar to one quart of water,
a table-spoonful of vinegar being added, and the mixture well, but
carefully, boiled.
Sometimes, when bee-keepers have neglected the feeding of their stocks
till late in autumn, they try to atone for their remissness by giving
a supply of flour-cake--a baked mixture of sugar and pea-meal--on the
top of the frames. This practice is not advisable, as the nitrogenous
food is almost certain to stimulate breeding; and if this happens when
the temperature is too low for the development of eggs and larvæ, great
mischief may be done. The danger from this source will be very much in
proportion to the weakness of the stock.
If proper attention has been given to the bees in autumn, they
should be left quite undisturbed during the winter; for each time of
excitement causes a considerable consumption of honey, to make up
for the exertion to which the insects have been aroused. There is,
also, the risk of chilling the hive, and lowering the temperature to
a point fatal to many of its inhabitants. If, however, it becomes
known to the bee-keeper that any stock is in a starving condition, no
liquid food must be given, but barley-sugar, or sugar-cake, may be
laid on the frames. One evil of the former of these is, that it is apt
to deliquesce faster than the bees can consume it, and running down
the combs, makes a mess; while, if supplied too sparingly, it will
not afford enough nourishment to the whole population to avert their
starving. To obviate these dangers, it has been recommended to let it
liquefy to a condition of toughness, and then, having put it into a
bottle tied over the mouth with close canvas, to supply it in the same
way as syrup.
Mr. Hunter gives the following directions for making sugar-cake, of a
kind superior to barley-sugar of the shops for bee-feeding purposes:--
"Break up three pounds of loaf-sugar, place it in a saucepan or
preserving-pan and pour half a pint of cold water upon it and half a
wine-glass of vinegar. These are all the ingredients required. Prepare
a fire in a grate, the top bar of which will let down in a similar
way to that in an ordinary kitchen grate, taking care, however, that,
at the commencement of the operation, the bar is up in its place, and
the grate full to the top with glowing cinders or wood embers, so that
a great heat may be obtained without any flame. Place upon the fire
the saucepan containing the sugar, and stir it without ceasing. In
a few minutes it will begin to assume the character of dirty broth,
which will have anything but a nice appearance, but presently a thick
scum will rise, and the mass will try to boil over. As soon as this
is observed the saucepan should be removed from the fire, until the
ingredients have cooled a little, when it should be set on the grate
again, in such a way that only a small part of it is over the fire.
The boiling will then go on on the exposed side, and as the ebullition
takes place the scum will be forced to the side not over the fire,
whence it may easily be removed with a spoon. Thus, the saucepan is
held in the left hand, the spoon in the right, and the saucepan being
on the left-hand side of the grate, with its right side exposed to
the action of the fire, the scum will retreat to the left or cooler
side, and will be in the handiest position for removal, as will be
evident in a few minutes to any one trying it. After a quarter of an
hour of this treatment the mixture will have become in a great degree
clarified, when it should be removed from the fire while the top bar
of the grate is let down, so as to permit of its nearer approach to a
greater heat. Should there be any irregularity of the fire, it should
now be corrected, but flame should be prevented, as the mixture, having
parted with its water, will be liable to take fire if brought into
contact with flame. It will be well here to remark that so long as the
scum remains on the syrup there was a tendency in the whole to boil
over, since the water evolved in the form of steam while the boiling
was going on, accumulating in a body, would lift the scum above the
saucepan to enable it to escape, but when the scum was _gone_ the water
would be evolved in bubbles of steam, which would _crackle_ but not
boil over unless a very intense heat were applied. The duration of the
boiling of the clarified syrup, before it becomes liquid barley-sugar,
will depend upon the amount of heat and the consequent evolution of
water to which it is subjected; but trials may from time to time be
made by dropping a little on some cold surfaces, to see if it becomes
brittle, and when that state is arrived at it is done. Pour it into a
tin dish, set it in a dry cool place until it becomes hard, and then',
by striking the tin on its under side, the whole of the barley-sugar
will be splintered into fragments, when it may be placed in bottles and
corked up for use as required."
We have thought it advisable to quote these directions _in extenso_, as
the feeding material thus made is cheaper--by about half the cost--than
what is bought in shops, and being, moreover, not twisted like ordinary
barley-sugar, it can more conveniently be placed on the top of frames,
or over the feeding-hole of a skep.
The deliquescence of solid sugar-food is a source of some trouble. It
may, in part, be obviated by laying the cake on coarse canvas, which
will keep pieces from falling between the combs, and will help to delay
liquid drops till the bees can consume them. But the most effectual
plan to be rid of all these inconveniences, is to see to the proper
amount of food being stored in the hives by the end of October.
CHAPTER XXII.
WINTERING BEES.
False and True Hybernation--Temperature of Hive in Winter--
Necessity for Quiet during Winter--Structure and
Winter-packing of Bar-Frame Hives--Prevention of Draught and
Condensation of Vapour--Supply of Water.
The honey-bee differs from nearly all the wild varieties, as well as
from hornets and wasps, in being adapted to live always in societies.
Most other insects of the hymenopterous order become torpid in
winter, or perish, with the exception of some queens, who survive to
continue the race. Those which really hybernate are able to endure
a considerable degree of cold; and, thawing under the influence of
warmth, they can resume the functions of life. It is not so, however,
with bees. Queens alone would be quite unable to continue the race,
as they could neither build comb, nor supply food to the larvæ, nor
keep up the heat required for the development of the young. For all
these purposes, workers in considerable numbers are necessary. But
this very concourse implies the production of heat by respiration;
and, as a matter of fact, we find that all through the coldest weather
of winter a temperature of over 60° Fahr. is maintained in the hive.
As a result of this, bees do not really hybernate, or even become
dormant. When cold is very intense, they maintain a constant tremulous
motion, as if they knew that the expenditure of muscular fibre would,
by the consequent oxygenation, cause the evolution of heat; or, as if
cognisant of the most modern theories of "heat as a mode of motion,"
they were aware that the very flapping of their wings would tend to
raise the temperature of their dwelling.
A bee is chilled by a less degree of warmth than 50° Fahr.; and if
actually frozen, or exposed to cold at or near the freezing point of
water, it cannot be revived. These facts have a very important bearing
on the art of apiculture. For, in the first place, it may easily be
understood that, if bees are tempted abroad by sunshine in winter, or
when a bitter wind is blowing, they may perish by hundreds, through
becoming torpid with cold while resting a few minutes in some shade, or
by being chilled in the ungenial air. For this reason it is advisable
to shelter hives from the mid-day and afternoon sun, as the danger just
alluded to increases with the lateness of the hour at which the bees
may be enticed abroad by the sunshine.
Then, secondly, it must be remembered that, as the bees are animate
all through the winter, a constant consumption of stores is going on,
and that disastrous consequences may ensue from mistaken notions as to
their remaining torpid, and needing no more food than do hybernating
dormice or polar bears.
Thirdly, as an easy deduction from the foregoing facts, everything
which stirs the bees to activity, such as supplying fresh food,
or disturbing the hives for any other purpose, means an increased
consumption of nutriment, proportional to the activity aroused.
Fourthly, any general excitement in cold weather, leading to the
wandering of individuals from the cluster, entails the risk of their
being chilled, and rendered so inactive as not to be able to return to
the warmest part of the hive, and consequently perishing.
These facts further suggest the importance of taking measures to
prevent, as far as possible, the escape of warmth from the hive.
Various precautions are adopted for this purpose. The straw skep is,
in itself, a bad conductor of heat, and if made thick and strong, will
usually enable the bees to maintain a sufficiently high temperature.
Still, in excessively cold seasons, it is advisable to wrap straw hives
round with matting, sacking, or some other material, in order still
further to guard against chilling.
With bar-frame hives several points should be attended to. In the
first place, it is a great advantage to have their walls double, with
an air-space between them. It is even better to fill this space with
cork-dust, saw-dust, bran, or chaff, to prevent any circulation of air
between the outer and inner walls.
Then, it is important to remove empty combs at the beginning of the
cold season, and to confine the bees in as small a space as possible,
so that their number, constantly diminishing in winter, may suffice to
keep up the necessary temperature.
Again, it is of some moment to see that there are no considerable
apertures in the coverings of the frames, or in the corners of the
hive, by which a current of warm air out of, and cold air into, the
hive may be set up.
Once more, if cushions of chaff be placed behind the frames, to fill
up some of the empty parts of the hive, an additional security will be
furnished against the lowering of the temperature.
In order still further to prevent separation from the cluster, and
unnecessary activity, the most skilled apiarians recommend that, in
autumn, holes should be made through the combs, near their tops, to
serve as passages from one to another, as they are emptied of honey,
without the necessity of the bees going down to the bottoms of the
combs, in order to reach the other sides or different combs.
Another point of great importance in wintering bees, is the prevention
of the moisture, produced by their breathing, from condensing in the
hive. It should either be allowed to escape by upward ventilation,
as strongly recommended by Langstroth, or by laying over the frames
of wooden hives a porous material, which at the same time prevents
the escape of heat. Light matting, covered with thicknesses of
house-flannel or old blanketing, will answer the purpose very well. The
constant evaporation from the upper surface will prevent dampness to
any serious degree in the lower thicknesses of material. For ourselves,
we prefer the method which most effectually prevents the escape of
heat, while also securing that vapour shall not be unduly condensed.
The question of ventilation, especially in winter, is still under
debate. It is alleged, on the one hand, that it must be of advantage
to get rid of all products of respiration, and that this can only
be done effectually, by leaving a passage for the air supposed to
be vitiated by the breathing of the bees. On the other hand, it is
asserted, and the fact is incontrovertible, that the insects themselves
most sedulously stop every crack and cranny, above all, in the tops
of their hives; and seem to strive, by all means in their power, to
prevent the escape of air, which would carry away warmth. The argument
is that their natural instinct is certain to be right that it can only
have arisen, or been bestowed, for the benefit of the bees. We must
acknowledge there is great force in this reasoning; and we prefer,
therefore, to secure both the theoretical point relating to sufficient
ventilation, and the practical recognition of the preference of the
bees for complete coverings, by using the materials we have recommended
above, leaving no apertures for the direct escape of air and warmth at
the top of the hives.
The German apiarians lay considerable stress on the necessity of
supplying the stocks with water so long as any breeding is going on.
Von Berlepsch and G. Eberhardt, in an article in the _Bienenzeitung_,
write as follows: "The Creator has given the bee an instinct to store
up honey and pollen, which are not always to be procured, but not
water, which is always accessible in her native regions. In northern
latitudes, when confined to the hive, often for months together, they
can obtain the water they need only from the watery particles contained
in the honey, the perspiration which condenses on the colder parts of
the hive, or the humidity of the air which enters their hives.
"Vital energy in the bee is at its lowest point in November and
December. If, at this time, an unusual degree of cold does not force
her to resort to muscular action, she remains almost motionless,
a deathlike silence prevailing in the hive; and we know by actual
experiment, that much less food is consumed than at any other time.
Breeding having ceased, the weather-bound bees have no demands made on
their vital action, and we have never known them at this time suffer
from want of water. As soon, however, as the queen begins to lay, which
occurs in many colonies early in January, and in some by Christmas, the
workers must eat more freely, both of honey and pollen, to supply jelly
for the larvæ, and wax for sealing their cells. Much more water is
needed for these purposes than when they can procure the fresh nectar
of flowers, and the want of it begins to be felt about the middle of
January. _The unmistakable signs of the dearth of water in a colony,
are found in the granules of candied honey on the bottom of the hive_."
These authors go on further to say: "After protracted and severe
winters, of every six bees that perish, five die for want of water,
and not, as was hitherto supposed, from undue accumulation of fæces.
Dysentery is one of the direct consequences of water-dearth, the bees
in dire need of water consuming honey immoderately, and taking cold by
roaming about the combs."
In our climate there is, usually, throughout the winter such an
abundance of moisture in the air, that the point of complete saturation
is often reached, and, except in very exceptional seasons, there
will be little need to supply water to the hive before March. As a
precautionary measure, however, we see no reason why some may not be
given earlier, if great care is taken against its escape among the
combs. For safety on this point, it would be best to give it in shallow
troughs or pans at the bottom of the hive.
CHAPTER XXIII.
BEE-STINGS.
Gentleness necessary in Manipulation--Causes of Irritation of
Bees--Examination of Stocks--Treatment of Stings--Remedies--
Effects of Stings--Inoculation--Bee Dress--Smoke and its Uses.
There are some personal requisites, in addition to what is called
"bee-dress," if immunity from attack is to be secured. The first of
these are, calmness and self-control. Many persons become so much
alarmed by a single bee buzzing about them, that they begin fighting
and buffeting the insect, with the idea of driving it away. No surer
method can be devised for inciting its anger and its persistent efforts
to wound. If, on the other hand, perfect quietness is maintained,
it will rarely happen that a buzzing bee will sting. When mischief
is really meant, the attack is usually delivered with great speed
and directness. Even if stung, it is much the best policy to be as
self-possessed as possible, lest violent movements and angry acts
should invite other bees to use their weapons; and they are the more
likely to do so, if the first offender be crushed; for the smell of the
sting poison and of murdered comrades readily stirs the wrath of the
insects.
As a rule, those who are accustomed to manipulate hives gently and
fearlessly, may do so without the protection of veil and gloves. We
have, however, mentioned the exceptional cases of persons who appear to
be naturally offensive to bees; and such individuals must either clothe
themselves against the possibility of being stung, or altogether avoid
apiculture.
It is also true that, under some circumstances, bees become, like human
beings, unaccountably irritable; and then it is better to keep at a
safe distance from them, or to approach them clad in bee-dress. It is
especially maddening to them to become entangled in the hair of the
head or face, and if one of them has unwarily thus ensnared itself,
it is advisable to extricate it as speedily as possible, or it will
assuredly inflict a wound.
Woollen gloves, and some kinds of leather ones, seem also to be very
objectionable to the insects; anything, in fact, which obstructs their
freedom of motion, immediately throws them into a passion.
One simple, but very necessary precaution, is, to avoid breathing upon
them, when observing them or examining the combs of a bar-frame hive.
Blowing at them infuriates them, and they will savagely fly at the
face of any one attempting it. Particular electrical conditions of the
atmosphere are said to make them irascible. On very hot days, also,
they are liable to get out of temper; and showery weather, which drives
them frequently home from work, appears to put them in bad humour.
Again, if they have lost their queen, or if she is absent on her
nuptial excursion, or if any other event has thrown a hive into
excitement, the workers will be likely to show their feeling by some
passionate onslaught on the innocent onlooker. There is no disguising
the fact that they are very quick-tempered creatures, and often act
with an utter want of discrimination in the matter of stinging.
The time most suitable for the examination of stocks, and for any other
processes of manipulation, is when the weather is fine, without being
sultry or oppressive, and when very large numbers of the older bees are
out at work. It is these who are most pugnacious, the young ones being
comparatively gentle.
If several, or even one, apparently intent on mischief, should angrily
buzz round, the best plan is to thrust one's head into some bush. This,
for the most part, baffles the assailant, who seems unable to find its
intended victim, and very soon flies away.
When actually stung, the first thing to be done is to extract the
weapon, which the unfortunate insect almost invariably tears out of
its body, with the poison-bag and muscles, as it flies off. If left
in the flesh, the muscles, by their automatic action, drive the barbs
in deeper and deeper, the poison also flowing more copiously into the
wound. Directly the sting is removed, _avoid all rubbing of the part
affected_, but at once press upon the puncture a hollow key, taking
care that the exact spot pierced comes in the centre of the opening
of the key-tube. By this means the poison will be prevented from
extending in the surrounding capillaries, and from being carried to the
neighbouring parts. Moreover, some of the acrid matter will be squeezed
out, and so comparatively little inconvenience will follow. The pain
will be much relieved if a strong solution of ammonia be forthwith
applied; or, failing this, carbonate of soda or of potass, all of which
alkaline substances will counteract the acid poison. Should none of
these be at hand, bathing with cold water, after the use of the key,
will wash away the liquid squeezed out, and will dilute what remains in
the wound. The application of dry earth is also recommended, and may do
good, both by absorbing any of the fluid expressed from the puncture,
and by its alkaline reaction destroying the potency of the poison.
There is, indeed, a long catalogue of remedies vaunted by various
apiarians as certain palliatives, if not absolute cures, of the
pain and swelling induced by the stings of bees. Among these may
be enumerated the following: the juice of the ripe berry of the
honeysuckle; the milky liquid of the white poppy stalk; the juice
of tobacco; the leaves of the plantain, or of the dock, bruised and
applied to the wound. Bevan recommends spirits of hartshorn, of which
ammonia is the chief component. Sliced onion or leek is very strongly
praised as an antidote by some writers in our bee journals.
The principles of chemistry undoubtedly point to alkaline solutions as
the proper kind of application. There can be no doubt that the poison
is acid in its reaction. Any one may test this by collecting a drop
or two, and putting the liquid on to litmus-paper. The characteristic
change of the blue colour to red will, at once, indicate the nature of
the substance. Consequently, the natural neutraliser of its properties
will be an alkali of some sort.
Should faintness and prostration come on in consequence of one or more
stings, as happens in the case of certain constitutions, smelling-salts
(ammonia), or other usual stimulants to the nervous system and
heart-action, must be applied, and medical aid should be summoned;
but the cases in which such steps become necessary are comparatively
rare. Certainly not one person in a thousand need be terrified from
bee-keeping by the fear of serious consequences from being stung.
It is true the effects of the poison are, in most cases, very
unpleasant, severe pain being felt for a few minutes, succeeded later
by swelling, smarting, and irritation; but these symptoms soon subside,
and leave no ill consequences. Moreover, it is a well-ascertained fact
that, after numerous stings, some effect is produced on the blood--a
sort of inoculation--which renders the result of the poison less and
less severe. Many bee-keepers, indeed, pay almost no attention to
punctures from their pets, as pain and swelling are quite insignificant
in their cases. Herr Klein, in fact, recommends apiarians to get
purposely stung, so that, as speedily as possible, they may secure to
themselves this immunity from discomfort. We doubt whether many persons
will have the hardihood to accept his advice, or will consider such
a violently homœopathic remedy less objectionable than an occasional
attack of the malady.[9]
[Footnote 9: We may remark in passing that we have been informed the
poison of the bee is used under the name of _Apis_ as a recognised and
potent medicine by homoeopathic practitioners.]
Our advice, on the contrary, is that the bee-keeper, especially if
timid about being stung, should take all reasonable precautions against
attack. For this purpose he should provide himself with a bee-dress,
consisting of a sort of bag of _black net_, which will slip over the
head and shoulders, and may be fastened round the waist by an elastic
band. It should be large enough to admit of wearing a hat with a
tolerably broad brim. This will cause the veil to stand away from the
face sufficiently to prevent any angry bee from getting at the flesh.
Sleeves of black calico should be attached to it, and may be secured
at the wrists by tying, or by elastic bands. Such a dress is best worn
without a coat but over a waistcoat, as greater coolness and freedom
of movement will thus be attained. The hands may be protected by
cotton or india-rubber gloves, and the sleeves should be fastened over
these round the wrists. If, in conducting any extensive manipulations,
bees, half-stupefied or weak from their youthfulness, are likely to be
crawling about the ground, it is advisable to tuck the trousers inside
the boots, or to tie them round the ankles, or in some way to prevent
the ascent of any insects beneath the clothes.
Thus protected, the novice may, with perfect confidence, conduct
such operations among his hives as he may deem necessary. He should
be careful, however, not to let his security induce any roughness or
carelessness in handling the insects or their combs and hive-frames.
As much quietness and gentle treatment should be used, as if freedom
from attack depended entirely on such methods; for, it is certain that
by great tenderness in handling, bees become accustomed to those who
have to do with them; whereas, a hive once enraged by accidental or
rough manipulation will remain ill-tempered and passionate for a long
period, and will consequently become very difficult to deal with. If,
by any means, a stock has thus been excited, it is advisable to leave
it alone, and let it quiet down as speedily and thoroughly as possible.
The use of smoke must not be forgotten, as one of the most potent
means of controlling the passion of bees, and causing them to
gorge themselves, in which condition of repletion they are much
better-tempered than under any other circumstances.
Various kinds of "smokers" are in use among apiarians, and different
substances to be burnt for producing the smoke are recommended. Among
the former we may mention the apparatus of Messrs. Abbott of Southall,
Neighbour of London, and Blow of Welwyn, Herts: while brown paper,
old sacking, touchwood, puff-ball, rags moistened with a solution
of nitre and dried, will afford sufficiently satisfactory means of
fumigating stocks. Bee-keepers will find a few vigorous puffs of
tobacco very effectual in alarming the bees, and driving them to
fill their honey-bags. There will, however, be some risk of being
stung, as one cannot conveniently smoke with a veil on, and where
lengthened manipulations are required, it is often necessary to repeat
the fumigating process, if the bees seem recovering from their first
dose, or if many, absent at its administration, have returned to their
homes while these are being disturbed. We recommend, therefore, the
presence of some kind of fumigating apparatus in every apiary, and in
the selection of one it will be found very convenient to have amongst
its advantages the ability of retaining in a smouldering condition,
by a gentle through-draught, the materials inserted for burning. The
"smoker" should always be properly filled with the stuff from which
smoke is to be generated, and smouldering should go on continuously in
the material when laid aside in the intervals of more active use. Great
trouble and inconvenience arise from having repeatedly to re-light the
paper, rag, or other articles used. One means of obviating this, is
to stand the apparatus point upwards, when the funnel will act as a
chimney, and aid in keeping up a quiet current of air.
CHAPTER XXIV.
PASSIONS AND EMOTIONS OF BEES.
Affection for Queen and Brood--Recognition of Friends and
Strangers--Fear--Anger--Covetousness--Benevolence--Remorse--
Hope--Instinctive or Sense-action.
Certain difficulties surround the question of the emotions exhibited
by the lower orders of animals; since it is easy for imagination, or,
at least, the interpretative faculty of observers, to lend so special
a colouring to actions, that the significance given to appearances
will vary exceedingly, according to the subjectivity of the individual
recording and explaining phenomena. There can, however, be little
doubt that a feeling of _affection_ exists between the workers and the
queen, and is reciprocally manifested. The symptoms of distress at the
loss of the hive-mother; the reverent attention paid to her by her
special attendants; the joy at her restoration after temporary removal;
resentment shown to a substitute while any hope of recovering their
rightful monarch remains; the devoted following of her when a swarm
issues, all tend unmistakably, we think, to show that genuine love is
the bond between the undeveloped females and the one fully developed in
the community. As to the drones, we can give credit to one only--the
royal spouse--for any share in this emotion, and, indeed, we should be
inclined to place the one exception in a different category.
As to affection for all belonging to one community, the facts are very
conflicting. In the first place, drones appear to have the _entrée_
of any stock. We can see that the obvious benefit of cross-breeding
is thus more likely to be secured; but it is impossible to imagine
this advantage to influence the bees. Again, the manifest hostility
shown by one colony of workers to individuals from any other, is
doubtless the result of the fear of stores being robbed; while drones
are allowed free passage, because they do not transfer honey from one
hive to another, and take no more than suffices for their personal
needs. But, while there is no doubt of exclusiveness being shown by
the workers towards other workers, we have little evidence of any
actual affection existing among the members of the same community. It
is true that the crushing of one bee enrages others who become aware
of the circumstance, but the anger is probably the result of fear of
further destruction, rather than grief at the loss of a friend. The
death of individuals in the ordinary course of nature, does not seem
to excite any emotion beyond the desire to get rid of the body, which
is unceremoniously taken in the jaws, aided by the legs, of some
enterprising survivor, carried to a distance from the hive, and then
let fall. Bees never attempt to extricate co-workers from imprisonment
in spider-webs, or from any other difficulty into which they have
fallen.
We must, however, acknowledge that an intense affection for the
developing brood is shown by the workers. It matters not whether the
combs containing it belong to their own hives or to others. They will
cluster upon the cells to maintain the required warmth, will supply
the larvæ with food, and render every attention required by the young.
When the offspring have come forth, some rather rough, but manifestly
kindly meant offices, are performed, in clearing away the remains of
the cocoon, combing out the imperfectly expanded wings, &c., but loving
care ceases with the need for it; and, in adult life, the most we can
predicate is a placid indifference to each other's presence, unless,
indeed, anger should be aroused by some accident, when a more or less
serious battle will take place.
That bees are susceptible of _fear_ we have made evident in what has
been said about the effect produced on them by smoke, by drumming, and
by any sharp vibration of their combs.
The passion of _anger_ is decidedly prominent in their nature. It
is, indeed, apt to rise to an uncontrollable degree on very slight
provocation, particularly, as we have mentioned, under certain
conditions of weather, and especially of temperature. Moreover, the
exhibition of it is frequently unrestrained by the fact that the use
of the sting generally means the death of the aggressor, owing to the
impossibility of withdrawing the barbed weapon, without tearing away
part of the vital organs also.
_Covetousness_ is also a powerful emotion with these insects. We have
already spoken of the dangers of allowing bees a taste of sweets from
other hives than their own, and of the almost ineradicable longing for
the honey stored in other communities, if once pilfering has begun. And
yet we can hardly ascribe sheer selfishness as the motive for robbing.
We see, in fact, that the life of the worker is one long series of
labours on behalf of a progeny not its own, and for a community in
which its own existence is of very short duration. While, therefore, we
allow that there is shown a desire to avoid honest toil, if dishonest
courses will yield supplies more readily, still we must admit that the
good, not of the individual but of the state, is the actually impelling
principle of the plunderer. The amount of infatuation shown in the
eagerness of bees for sweets is well described by Dr. Langstroth: "No
one can understand the extent of it until he has seen a confectioner's
shop assailed myriads of hungry bees. I have seen thousands by strained
out from the syrup in which they had perished, thousands more alighting
even upon the boiling sweets, the floor covered and the windows
darkened with bees, some crawling, others flying, and others still so
completely besmeared as to be able neither to crawl nor fly--not one in
ten able to carry home its ill-gotten spoils, and yet the air filled
with new hosts of thoughtless comers." They appear, indeed, unable
to perceive the disasters of companions, and rush heedlessly on to
destruction, the victims of which lie all around them.
From what has been previously said, it will be seen that we cannot
with any show of reason assign to bees such complex emotions as
_benevolence_ or _remorse_. They are incapable, on the one hand, of
appreciating the combination of circumstances involved in the distress
or need of a friend, and the means of aid suitable for relief; and, on
the other, having apparently no distinct knowledge of how the doing or
omission of any action will affect other individuals, they cannot be
sensible of regret or satisfaction in having done, or neglected to do,
any specific deed.
We might, probably, with equal assurance deny to bees the possession
of _hope_. It is true they prepare combs, store honey and pollen,
attend upon the queen when laying, and carefully nurture the larvæ, as
if they anticipated the rearing of a progeny; but it is difficult to
conceive that these various duties are carried out with any definite
notion of the future. We incline rather to the belief that a series of
sensations promotes a corresponding series of actions, the combination,
correspondence, and harmonising of which, for the general welfare, is
wrought out by laws of which we know nothing, or, we would much rather
say, by the operation of the infinite and Divine Will, without the
direct control of which we cannot imagine this complex universe could
hold on its way. Nor need we hesitate to assign its working to such
comparatively insignificant objects as hives of bees, when we have the
emphatic declaration of our Lord that not one sparrow lights upon the
ground for its food without the knowledge of God; that He feeds the
ravens, clothes the lilies with beauty, and numbers the very hairs of
our heads.
CHAPTER XXV.
INTELLECT AND INSTINCT IN BEES.
Intellect in Man and Animals as Related to Immortality--Memory--
Judgment--Instances of Attention--Prevision--Provision--
Instinct--Manifestations--Bearing on Evolution.
There has been a singular unwillingness on the part of many religious
writers to acknowledge among animals inferior to man the possession of
true intellectual faculties. This has arisen, partly from the desire
to keep man on a pedestal immensely exalted above the rest of the
creatures more or less allied to him, and partly from the fear that the
concession of high faculties might seem to imply the immortality of all
living beings or of none.
The first of these reasons which have influenced writers may be
dismissed with the remark, that the position of superiority which
man has held, and more than ever holds, depends, not entirely upon
his powers of mind, but upon a combination of faculties, physical,
mental, moral, and, above all, spiritual; so that there need be no
grudging of endowments of intellect to other creatures on earth beside
ourselves. As to the second point, we see no necessity to consider that
it supplies a dilemma. Man and all other animals may be immortal, for
aught we know; or man may, according to current opinion, stand alone in
this respect; but the yea or nay of the question need not rest upon the
foundation of the gift of intellect. We know, indeed, so little of the
actual connection between mind and body, the senses and the intellect,
that it becomes quite unsafe to base upon our knowledge any theories
as to the conscious possession of power when the body ceases to live.
The discussion of this subject must rest on other and higher grounds
altogether, and so will lie outside the limits of our work. But we may
well inquire how far true intellectual processes go on in bees. And the
best way to do this will be to take some of the strictly intellectual
faculties, and see whether they really exist among these insects.
Firstly, with regard to _memory_. Without entering upon theories as to
the simple or complex nature of the means by which we recall feelings,
events, sensations, or ideas, we may take it for granted that memory is
a sign and an attribute of considerable mental endowment. Now that bees
distinctly remember, there can be not the slightest doubt. Whatever
may be our opinion as to the faculty by which they find their way back
to their hives from long distances, there is clear evidence of their
recollecting particular places, in the circumstance that, for a day or
two after the securing of a swarm, certain bees will hover round the
spot from which the hiving took place. Again, it is possible to train
these insects to come day after day to a particular place, by supplying
them with food under conditions in which their senses of sight and
smell would not inform them of its continued presence. Moreover, after
being seriously disturbed, a stock appears to remember, for many days,
the molestation, and to be eager to resent further intrusion, unless
peaceable behaviour is strongly enforced by smoke or an anæsthetic.
Secondly, as to _judgment_. This involves the previous conception of
two ideas at least, the comparison of these, or their connection, at
all events, and a decision founded on their connection. That these
processes take place in the bee-mind, we are apparently warranted in
concluding from several circumstances to which allusion has already
been made. Let us recall, for instance, the fact that if, owing
to an unusual influx of honey, the attachments of the combs seem
insufficiently strong to bear the weight dependent on them, the workers
proceed to make a new connecting layer, at the top of the hive, and of
greater holding power. This they do by gnawing away the original one,
and replacing it, _one side at a time_, by new work, the security of
which is assured before the other side is proceeded with. Now, in this
case there is a perception of an unusual, or, at least, an unexpected
influx of stores, as well as of a certain strength being required to
sustain the weight of them. Furthermore, there is a calculation, or
comparison, founded on the two perceptions or conceptions, and an act
of decision resulting from such comparison--apparently a clear case of
judgment.
Again, let us revert to the manufacture of queens by the workers. If
at the time of the removal or loss of the mother-bee in any way, there
should be unhatched princesses in the hive, no attempt will be made
to follow the course adopted in the absence of such royal progeny. In
the _latter_ case--_i.e._ when there is no royal brood--there must
be a distinct conception, first of their bereavement; secondly, of
the hopelessness of a sovereign appearing in the ordinary way. Then a
judgment is formed of the proceedings necessary for making a queen,
and action immediately follows. Not only so, but, as if to secure
themselves against the repetition of their calamity, they prepare not
_one_ queen only, but _several_, so that, if the first which comes to
maturity be lost, there may be others in reserve. A further act of
definite judgment appears in this; for, if one only were produced and
lost, they would be powerless to repeat the process, as all the rest
of the worker brood would, in the mean time, have advanced far beyond
the stage at which its transformation would be possible. The bees,
then, with admirable prevision, forbear to risk all the future of their
community on one hope of a queen.
Once more, we may notice the remarkable fact that, if a queen be
removed or lost late in the summer, at the time when the destruction
of the drones is drawing to a close, the males of that particular hive
will be spared as long as there is any hope that a royal spouse may be
needed. In this instance, too, we have what seems a distinct judgment
of the necessity that there should be drones spared for the renewal of
the progeny of the stock, and their consequent immunity from the death
or banishment they would have undergone in a community possessing a
fertile sovereign.
Again, in the late summer, when supplies of honey from the fields begin
to fail, the workers, even in a flourishing hive, will not only worry
to death, or drive away to destruction, all the males which are adult,
but will pull out of the cells the immature drones, and carry them from
the hive. In this case we have two independent judgments. First, that,
having a fertile queen, but no probability of further swarming, no
_raison d'être_ exists for the males among them; and secondly, that the
unhatched males would, on emerging from the cells, be useless consumers
of precious stores, and consequently are better destroyed.
Numerous other evidences of judgment might be adduced, such, for
instance, as building drone-comb, _i.e._ cells of large size, when
unusual space is required for quick storing of food, the different
expedients for repairing, refixing, and giving direction to combs, in
view of various difficulties to be encountered. But we have said, we
believe, sufficient to make good the special point in question.
We might, perhaps, with advantage, have spoken of the faculty of
_attention_, _i.e._ the direction of the mental powers to a particular
end by the determinate action of the will. At every moment we may
see, in a busy hive, evidences of this power. Indeed, in so complex a
community, where so many operations are constantly going forward, where
so many stages of social development are being passed through, where so
many separate interests have to be regarded, and where the harmonious
co-operation of individuals is of supreme importance to the general
welfare, it is impossible that this faculty of attention should be
wanting or unexercised.
We have hinted at the prevision shown by bees. Now, if this really
exists in them, we must acknowledge it to be one of the very highest
endowments of intellect It is that which in man removes him from the
sport of circumstances, and gives him large control over his own
earthly destinies. It is that which, when applied to events more or
less unascertainable by the majority of men, proportionately awakes
their astonishment, and creates a reputation for ability and high
endowment. Now, that the faculty is possessed by bees is, we think,
evident from many considerations. When, for instance, a hive has
lost its queen, and has no hope of a successor, despair comes over
the community, as the workers feel they have no longer an object in
their toil. They seem to foresee the speedy end of their colony, and
the consequent uselessness of collecting stores, or proceeding with
comb-building.
Again, the destruction of the drones and drone-brood, when no longer of
possible service, implies a knowledge that the males, if spared, will
produce a scarcity of food, by uselessly consuming the stores, while
the preservation, to a late period, of drones in a hive whose queen is
lost near the end of summer, indicates a foresight of the possible need
of males to mate with a young queen, whose advent is hoped for.
Without much risk of straining this line of argument, we might consider
the storage of honey and bee-bread as a prevision, and not merely as a
_provision_ for the needs of winter. In like manner, the encasing in
propolis of slugs, mice, or other intruders, when dead in the hives,
may be looked upon as a safeguard against expected putrefaction.
The cessation from grief for loss of a queen, when new royal cells
are preparing, may be regarded as evidence of anticipated joy in a
coming monarch. We acknowledge, however, that here the dividing line
between reason and instinct becomes very narrow, and it is exceedingly
difficult to determine the strict limits of either.
At this point, also, comes in the remarkable question of heredity. The
causes and determining circumstances of this quality are at present
very imperfectly understood; nor is it probable that anything like a
complete explanation of the subject will be forthcoming. That it is,
however, a most potent element in the subject of mental, as well as
physical, characters cannot be disputed. To it, in fact, the possession
of what we call instinct must be entirely referred, though it leaves
untouched the actual nature of this endowment.
The definition of instinct is not a very simple matter, but we may
consider it as a power, appearing in generation after generation of
animals, by which, without instruction, they perform certain actions,
or series of actions, tending to the welfare of the individual or of
the race. We usually regard the purely intellectual operations as
improvable by education. Instinct, on the other hand, neither requires,
nor, in general, is aided by teaching. It is true that man has taken
advantage of certain qualities, apparently instinctive, in particular
animals, and has seemed to improve them by schooling them, as, for
instance, in the case of pointers and setters among dogs; but it is
rather, as it appears to us, the mental processes of the creature,
which have been controlled and modified, and then the tendency to the
reproduction of these has been transmitted by heredity. Pure instinct
we, therefore, continue to regard as outside the plane of education.
The faculty as exhibited by bees is most astonishing. We have already
enumerated many circumstances, which evidently have had their origin in
this power, but we may well recall certain of these in illustration of
this point.
Firstly, then, the shaping of the cells with definite and constantly
repeated angles of the sides; the arrangement of them, so that the base
of each is formed by the junction of the bottoms of three cells on the
opposite side of the comb; the preparation of abodes suitable in size,
and in other special respects, for the larvæ of queens, drones, and
workers; and the careful transition from one to the other of the last
two--all these and other circumstances connected with the construction
of their dwellings, attest the possession of an innate faculty needing
no instruction from the elders of the hive.
Again, the gathering, in due proportion and according to varying needs,
of honey, pollen, and propolis, must be attributed to this same occult
endowment. The proper admixture of the different kinds of food, adapted
to the varying ages of the larvæ; the preparation and administration of
the "royal jelly," necessary for the development of queen-larvæ; the
covering of the cells with waxen lids of different shapes, according to
the nature of their contents convex on the male cells, nearly flat on
those of workers, and somewhat concave on the honey stores--are other
manifestations of an internal guide towards useful labour.
Once more, the series of remarkable facts connected with their respect
and attention and service to their sovereign; their treatment of
queens introduced into hives possessing a queen, or without one; the
permission, and even urging, of rival monarchs to fight _à outrance_;
the expedients adopted to repair, if by any means it is possible, the
loss of a queen--all these facts point, still further, to a power, by
whose almost unerring operation extraordinary results are secured for
the well-being and the very continuance of the race.
Nor is it easy to see how, on the principles of evolution alone, this
faculty can have been acquired; for the remarkable point, and one
apparently inexplicable on the development-theory, is this, that the
two portions of the community alone concerned in the actual propagation
of the race are absolutely without the special endowment of which we
have been speaking, at least so far as the particular directions of its
manifestation just mentioned enable us to conclude. The queen among
bees, unlike her representative among wasps, is quite unable to perform
any of the processes preliminary to egg-laying. She cannot secrete
wax or build comb. She cannot fly abroad to collect honey. She has no
means of gathering pollen. She can neither procure nor use propolis.
So helpless, indeed, is she, that, bereft of attendants, she is unable
to feed herself sufficiently to maintain life. The drones, if not so
absolutely helpless, are equally incapable of all constructive work,
of the power of collecting honey, making wax, building comb, guarding
the stores against robbers, or even tending and nurturing the young
brood. We see, then, the endowments of instinct in all their higher
manifestations are conferred alone on the members of the community who
cannot transmit them to posterity. Nor does the fact of the occasional
appearance of fertile workers at all explain away the difficulty; for,
as has been shown, such abnormal mothers produce only male offspring,
which never inherit the special faculties of the undeveloped females,
and consequently cannot transmit what they have never possessed.
If asked what solution of the difficulty we are prepared to offer, we
confess, with satisfaction, to the retention of the undisproved theory
that the Creator has, in His own inscrutable, but all-beneficent, way,
specially gifted these insects with powers of a kind adapted to the
highest welfare of their race, as we also believe He has given to other
orders of beings, from the ant up to man, and on to angels, faculties
to be used, not only for the benefit of the individual, the species, or
the genus, but for the harmonious working of the universe He has called
into being. To those, at least, who rejoice to believe in a personal
God, who find an atheistic cosmos the most unthinkable of notions; who
see a thousand mysteries inexplicable on any theory of unintelligent
"natural selection," the study of the honey-bee provides reason for,
and evokes the sentiment of, sublime adoration of an infinite First
Cause, _i.e._ the Deity.
CHAPTER XXVI.
BEES IN RELATION TO FLOWERS.
Connection of Plant-life and Insect-life--Reproduction of Flowers--
Intervention of Insects--Hermaphrodite Flowers--Cross-fertilisation
--Cucumbers, Melons, &c.--Poplars--Firs--Epilobium or Willow Herb--
Cincerarias--Darwin's Experiments--Nasturtium--Foxglove--Figwort--
Salvia--Heath--Strawberry, Raspberry, and Blackberry--Apple and Pear
--Altruism of Bees.
The connection between insects and the plant-world, and the mutual
benefits they render, have long been known to man. While the one
kingdom is almost entirely dependent on the other for sustenance,
and this, not only as regards food, but for dwelling-places also:
the organic, but (so far as we can judge) inanimate, one of the two,
requires the aid of the animate for the continued reproduction of many
of its members.
It would lead us too far from the subject of this book to enter at
all fully into the question of the complete interaction of plant-life
and insect-life. In dealing with the relations of bees to flowers we
shall, therefore, confine our remarks almost entirely to the important
part played by these creatures in the reproduction of certain kinds of
plants.
It may, perhaps, be necessary, previously to entering on this subject,
to say that in flowers we have organs analogous to, though widely
differing from, those indicative of sex in the animal world. The
functions, at least, are the same; and the combined action of the
two sets is essential to the propagation of the race by seed. Unless
pollen from the anthers is conveyed to the pistil, and, germinating
there, imparts to the ovules vivifying nourishment, no seed will come
to perfection, or will be capable of growing. While most flowers are
hermaphrodite, _i.e._ produce both stamens (or anther-bearers) and
pistils, it happens, in not a few instances, that certain flowers
have anthers, and no pistils: while others, on the same plant, have
pistils, but no anthers. Again, the antheriferous and pistiliferous
flowers, in certain species, are found on different individual plants,
so that, unless some agency were provided for the transference of the
pollen, these species would inevitably die out. Now, the two means
for this conveyance are the wind and insects. It is evident that the
former can have only a very limited action, and would need for its
effective service a great abundance of any particular flower, lest
the fructifying grains should become the mere sport of the breezes,
and fail to reach their all-important goal, and accomplish their
all-needful function.
Moreover, in many cases, the position of the anthers in the flower
entirely excludes the possibility of any currents of air assisting
in the carrying of the pollen-dust to the pistil of the same or of
different flowers. Hence there is a necessity for the intervention
of insects; and that they may be induced to visit such flowers, and
unconsciously effect the essential operation of fertilising them,
nectar is secreted near the base of the stamens or the ovary, or in
some position which will involve, in the gathering of it, the brushing
off and conveying away of some of the pollen-grains. It is, indeed,
a remarkable fact that fragrance and honey-bearing are scarcely ever
associated with plants which can easily be wind-fertilised. Such
flowers are, also, for the most part, inconspicuous; while those which
need the agency of insects to aid in their reproduction are bright in
colour, sweet in perfume, and more or less prolific in honey.
It must not be supposed, however, that even the hermaphrodite, or
double-sexed, flowers are independent of the visits of bees and other
insects. In all of them cross-fertilisation, as Darwin has abundantly
proved,[10] is a most important factor in the continued vitality of any
species, and cross-breeding gives an immense advantage in "the struggle
for existence," where the conditions of life are not wholly favourable.
Indeed, in many instances, special provision has been made by the
Creator against self-fertilisation: in some cases, by the anthers and
pistil coming to maturity, in the same flower, at different times; in
others, by the placing of the stamens in such a position relatively
to the stigma (or top of the pistil) that it is not possible for the
pollen-grains of the one set of organs to fall on the surface of the
other. It cannot but be interesting to give examples of these various
facts, and so to show the marvellous and necessary connection between
the two kingdoms of nature.
[Footnote 10: For full and most interesting information on this point,
vide _Cross and Self-Fertilisation of Plants_, by Charles Darwin.
Murray.]
Firstly, then, as well-known instances of pistil-bearing and
stamen-bearing flowers occurring separately on the same plant, we may
mention cucumbers, melons, marrows, _et hoc genus omne_. Now, when
these vegetables are grown under glass, whether in greenhouses or
in pits, to which bees and other insects have little or no access,
gardeners find it necessary themselves to apply the pollen-bearing
portions of the one kind of flower to the pistil of the other. If this
is neglected to be done, the fruit makes no progress, turns yellow, and
dies. Where, however, the plants are grown in the open air, or are not
so shut up as to exclude insects, they will be fertilised without the
intervention of man; for bees of various kinds will certainly visit the
flowers, and carry the life-giving dust where it is needed. In fact,
we believe it might be asserted with confidence, that in all plants,
where this separation of, what we may call, the sexes takes place, the
flowers possess special attractiveness to the tenants of our hives; and
it is well that this is the case, otherwise the continued existence of
such plants would be seriously endangered.
As examples of diœcious genera, or those having pollen-bearing flowers
on one plant and pistiliferous flowers on another, we may note the
willows, the poplars, and the firs; and it is remarkable that these all
are special favourites with bees. In the early spring, when breeding
has been going on in the hives, and when the demands of the advancing
larvæ require considerable supplies of pollen, the catkins of the
willow are abundantly visited, and the diffusion of their fertilising
powder is thus greatly promoted. The same may be said about the poplar,
and, in all probability, the gathering of propolis from trees of
the fir-tribe makes the bee the unconscious, but useful, instrument
of carrying pollen from the catkins to the cones, though, from the
abundance of the powder, and the openness of the scales of the cones r
the wind is a sufficiently effective agent for its conveyance in this
order of trees.
[Illustration: Fig. 70.--Epilobium Angustifolium. (Young bloom.)]
[Illustration: Fig. 71.--Epilobium Angustifolium. (Old bloom.)]
Passing next to cases in which the stamens and pistils of the
same flower come to maturity at different times, so as to make
cross-breeding a necessity, we may mention first some plants in which
the pollen ripens before the stigma is ready to receive it. We have
such a condition of things in the _willow-herb_, or _epilobium tribe_.
The pretty pink blossoms of a large variety of this genus are to be
found, in summer, along the banks of brooks and running ditches. We
will confine our remarks to the species distinguished by its narrow
leaves, and hence named _angustifolium_. When the flower has fully
opened, the eight stamens spread out, and their anthers shed the
pollen. Bees visit the blossoms, and getting dusted with the grains,
carry these away to other flowers of the same kind. And here, in
passing, we may recall the fact of bees keeping to one species of plant
during the whole of any one journey from the hive. The importance
of this can be now better appreciated, when its influence on the
fructification of blossoms is observed. But to return, the pistil of
the willow-herb remains, till the stamens have withered, curved round
out of the way, and unable to receive any of their pollen. Then, after
they are dead, it comes into such a position that it can take what
pollen may be brought to it from younger flowers. For the conveyance of
this it is dependent chiefly on bees, who do not fail to carry enough
for the required purpose. In this way each blossom, by the agency of
these insects, both gives and gets what is necessary for the continued
life of the species; and without these unconsciously conferred benefits
from insect life, no seeds of this kind of _epilobium_ would mature.
Another instance, equally interesting, is seen in the well-known
_cineraria_ tribe. The plants of this genus belong to the _composite_
order, in which what is usually called the blossom, consists of many
flowers, grouped together on one head. In the example before us, there
are nearly 200 thus aggregated. These florets separately open at
different times, those of the outer circles coming before those nearer
the centre. The pollen-tube of each is formed by five anthers, fastened
together at their edges, and discharging their pollen into the space
between them. At the lower part of this inclosure the pistil is
growing, but is not in a condition to receive usefully the fertilising
powder. It, however, as it advances, sweeps out, and carries up with
it, the pollen-grains, so that they may be conveyed to other florets of
the same or other blossoms, to effect their vitalising work. At length
the pistil, with its brush on its summit, comes into view, but, even
yet, is not sufficiently developed for fertilisation. In due course,
however, the upper end splits, and exposes the surface of the stigma
ready for the pollen, which must be brought from some other floret, and
probably from some other blossom. Thus cross-breeding is effectually
secured.
[Illustration: Fig. 72.--Cineraria. (Magnified.)]
Another point for attaining this end is worthy of remark. The outer
ring of florets is distinguished by long, coloured petals, which make
up, in common parlance, the flower of the cineraria. These serve to
render the composite head conspicuous, and attractive to insects. Some
varieties, moreover, emit fragrant odours, and thus present further
inducements for visitation. It is remarkable that, in these florets of
the outer edge, the gay-coloured petals are developed at the expense of
the anthers. Consequently, they produce no pollen, and their pistils
have no brushes, as there would be no office for them to perform.
The bright rays have accomplished their own special purpose, and the
florets may well depend on others for pollen.
Now, as to the great importance of cross-fertilisation in this species,
we may quote the experiments made by Dr. Darwin.[11] He says: "Two
purple-flowered varieties (of cineraria) were placed under a net in
the greenhouse, and four corymbs (or bunches of flowers) on each
were repeatedly brushed with flowers from the other plant, so that
their stigmas were well covered with each other's pollen. Two of the
eight corymbs thus treated produced very few seeds, but the other six
produced on an average 41.3 seeds per corymb, and these germinated
well. The stigmas on four other corymbs on both plants were well
smeared with pollen from the flowers on their own corymbs; these eight
corymbs produced altogether ten extremely poor seeds, which proved
incapable of germinating. I examined many flowers on both plants, and
found the stigmas spontaneously covered with pollen; but they produced
not a single seed. These plants were afterwards left uncovered in the
same house, where many other cinerarias were in flower; and the flowers
were frequently visited by bees. They then produced plenty of seed,
but one of the two plants less than the other, as this species shows
some tendency to be diœcious.
[Footnote 11: See _Cross and Self-Fertilisation of Plants_, p. 335.]
"The trial was repeated on another variety with white petals tipped
with red. Many stigmas on two corymbs were covered with pollen from
the foregoing purple variety, and these produced eleven and twenty-two
seeds, which germinated well. A large number of the stigmas on several
of the other corymbs were repeatedly smeared with pollen from their
own corymb; but they yielded only five very poor seeds, which were
incapable of germination. Therefore the above three plants, belonging
to two varieties, though growing vigorously and fertile with pollen
from either of the other two plants, were utterly sterile with pollen
from other flowers on the same plant."
[Illustration: Fig. 73.--Tropœolum Majus. (Young bloom.)]
[Illustration: Fig. 74.--Tropœolum Majus. (Old bloom.)]
A condition similar to that described in the cineraria is found in the
nasturtium (_Tropœolum majus_). In the young blossom may be observed
the five stamens fully developed, while the stigma remains quite out
of their reach. Later, when all the pollen is discharged from the
anthers, the pistil throws up its style and stigma, now ready for
fertilisation, which must be effected by the transfer of pollen from
some other blossom of the same or another plant of the species. This
transfer is effected, usually, by the bees.
Another example of this non-coincidence in the times of development of
the stamens and pistil is found in the foxglove (_Digitalis purpurea_),
but the fertilisation is effected by the larger humble-bees. The
two upper and longer stamens shed their pollen before the two
lower and shorter ones. This arrangement partly avoids the risk of
self-fertilisation, while their position, which changes just when the
anthers are ripe, enables them to smear the under side of any entering
bee; while they also shed their pollen abundantly on the thickly-set
hairs lining the mouth of the corolla. A second use is served by these
hairs, viz., that of obstructing the entrance of the smaller kinds of
bees, which could not so effectually fertilise the ovules. The larger
sorts, in their raids upon the nectar, carry pollen from flower to
flower, thus in the best manner bringing about the most desirable
result of cross-breeding.
Passing now to plants in which the pistil develops earlier than the
stamens, we may note the knotted figwort (_Scrophularia nodosa_). On
making a section of a recently opened flower, the style, with its
stigma, may be observed protruding just beyond the lip of the corolla,
while the stamens are hiding away, as it were, in a little pouch
below the entrance of the blossom. When fertilisation by pollen from
another flower has taken place, the pistil droops and withers; while
the anthers grow upwards to the mouth of the corolla, and present their
nectar to the honey-seekers, for conveyance to other flowers of the
species.
[Illustration: Fig. 75.--Section of Scrophularia Nodosa.]
[Illustration: Fig. 76.--Scrophularia Nodosa. (Young bloom.)]
[Illustration: Fig. 77.--Scrophularia Nodosa. (Old bloom.)]
In the common sage (_Salvia officinalis_) we find a very remarkable
contrivance, by means of which the anthers, through a sort of
hinge-like connective, are brought down on the back of a bee entering
the flower. The pollen thus discharged is carried by the insect to
other blossoms, in which the place of the withered stamens has been
occupied by the stigma now ready to receive the grains. Thus again
inter-breeding is secured.
[Illustration: Fig. 78.--Salvia Officinalis. (New bloom.)]
[Illustration: Fig. 79.--Salvia Officinalis. (Old bloom.)]
[Illustration: Fig. 80.--a. Erica Tetralix. b. Anther of Tetralix.]
The next figure represents the very curious arrangement of the stamens
in the _Erica tetralix_, or common heath. These, eight in number, are
seen standing round the style, at about half its length. Each is held
by a long filament (only one of which is shown in the figure), and is
armed with a horn-like process. When the anthers are ripe, the pollen
would escape from openings in their sides, were it not that the little
slits abut on each other. When, however, a bee visits the flower,
and thrusts up her proboscis, this strikes against one of the little
horns, and pulls apart its anther from the rest. Pollen then drops on
the bee's head, to be carried by it to other blossoms, which, while
receiving a portion brought to them, in their turn give the bee a
supply to carry to other flowers. It is a very salutary thing for the
propagation of the heath that bees have such a strong liking for its
nectar, and are thus induced to perform, albeit unconsciously, the
process of fertilisation.
[Illustration: Fig. 81.--Section of Strawberry Bloom.]
In the strawberry the stigmas are ripe long before the pollen is ready;
and hence we understand why the Creator has arranged that the nectar
of these blossoms should be so attractive to the bees, whose visits
are so necessary for the development of the fruit. When fertilisation
takes place, growth proceeds in the ordinary manner, and with results
so satisfactory to mankind. Where pollen fails to fall on any of the
multitudinous stigmas, we have a shrunken, hard, greenish mass. Any
dish of strawberries will show where this has happened. It is said that
to produce one perfect specimen of the fruit, from 100 to 300 separate
fertilisations must be effected.
In the raspberry and blackberry again, each drupel, or little fleshy
portion, of which very many make up one so-called berry, has had its
own stigma, which an insect has visited; and hence again, we understand
how it is that the flowers have been so largely endowed with nectar, as
to entice the bees most freely to visit them.
[Illustration: Fig. 82.--Section of Apple Bloom.]
In apple and pear blossoms we have other instances of the stigmas
coming to maturity before the anthers; and, therefore, they require
the intervention of bees for their fertilisation. Peaches, apricots,
nectarines, plums, greengages, and, we might almost venture to
assert, all our choicest and most valuable fruits, are dependent for
their perfection upon the busy searchers after honey; and many a
market-gardener would greatly increase his chances of good crops of
fruit, were he to maintain a few stocks of bees in his orchards, and
allow access for the active workers to his trees blossoming under
glass-houses.
From the vegetable world we might adduce many other evidences of the
marvellous interdependence of the two great kingdoms of organic nature.
Enough, however, has been said to illustrate this point, and we trust
that some of our readers may be led to further investigation in this
field, which opens up such wonders, and such pleasurable surprises, for
all who care to trace evidences of the Creator's infinite resources,
wisdom, and care for all that He has made.
Everywhere, also, on earth may be seen at work the grand law of
self-sacrifice for others' needs. Very many facts which we have
detailed in the natural history of bees, illustrate this most
thoroughly. We may, indeed, say that the life of a worker, who will
neither have progeny of her own, nor see many of the race for whom
she spends her powers, is one continued offering of herself for the
welfare of the community. As the Latin poet says, _Sic vos non vobis,
mellificatis apes_; and thus these unselfish toilers, beside teaching
us many another lesson, seem to foreshadow, and to lead our thoughts
to, the infinite gift of Him "who gave Himself for us" that we in and
through Him might have life.
God has written tokens of His wisdom and love around us everywhere.
None who reverently observe any of His works can fail to see His
attributes embodied throughout all nature.
CHAPTER XXVII.
SUPERSTITIONS CONNECTED WITH BEES.
Superstitions likely to gather around Bees--Unlucky to Buy
Bees--Ill Omen for a Swarm to Settle on a Dry Stick--"Have
the Bees been told?"--Turning Hives on the Death of the
Owner--Probable Origin of these Errors.
On _a priori_ grounds it is only to be expected that various
superstitions would arise at different times and in various countries
with regard to bees. Insects displaying such marvellous instincts, such
apparent adaptation of means to ends, such indications of reasoning and
special intelligence, were sure to be credited with powers beyond those
generally recognised in them. Hence we may account for some of the
curious ideas about bees which have prevailed in certain localities.
There are other notions, however, the origin of which is more difficult
to discover. Such, for instance, is the prejudice among ignorant
bee-keepers against selling for coin swarms or stocks. A purchase thus
made is supposed to be likely to lead to misfortune for one of the two
parties concerned. By some occult process, lying outside the range of
reason or imagination, ill luck is thought to be attracted by bargains
of this sort.
A correspondent of the _Journal of Horticulture_ thus narrates the
following incidents: "Last August I purchased a swarm, for which I paid
ten shillings. So far as I could judge from my limited experience with
bees, for the first fortnight they appeared to be doing well, but one
night, about eight o'clock, I found they had deserted the hive, and
were on the ground in a cluster the size of a large plate. I gently
lifted the hive and placed it over the cluster. About ten o'clock I
found most of the bees had gone up into the hive, which I then returned
to its stand. For a short time the bees appeared to work, but one day,
thinking they appeared very quiet, I lifted the hive, and discovered
that it was quite empty of bees. There were three nice pieces of empty
comb. I think the bees were teased by wasps. Our parishioners tell me I
did two things wrong, and that in consequence my bees could not thrive.
One was to give money for them, which is always unlucky; the other was,
that I did not have them at the right time of the year. I ought to have
had them on Old Christmas Day. Is there anything in these ideas?"
The correspondent signed herself "A Clergyman's Wife," and the
explanation of her want of success was not far to seek. She had been
taken in by the vendor of her bees. A poor swarm had been palmed off
upon her, and one so manifestly weak, and having, so late in the
comb-making and honey-gathering time as August, only three small combs,
was doomed to perish with cold and starvation. The poor insects, as a
forlorn hope, had deserted their hive for what they trusted might be
better quarters. The fallacy of the coin having had anything to do with
their destruction, takes rank with the disinclination of some people to
accept from a friend the present of a pocket-knife, unless the donor
will take a halfpenny in exchange; or with the old saying "Helping to
salt is helping to sorrow." We can hardly suppose that the kindly sort
of freemasonry, which now exists among bee-keepers, has ever proceeded
so far as to make any one always willing to _give_ his swarms or stocks
to another. If so, the benevolence once current has degenerated into
a willingness, even among the devotees to the superstition of which
we are speaking, to accept full value in the way of barter if not in
cash. Whatever its origin, we feel satisfied the days of this prejudice
are numbered. With the immense spread of apiculture now taking place
experience and common sense will sweep away this psychological cobweb,
as so many others have been made to disappear under the same powerful
agencies.
As to the other superstition about "Old Christmas Day" being the proper
time for procuring a stock, the probability is that seasons sacred to
the memory of events in the life of our Lord Jesus Christ would have
special attributes of good fortune attributed to them. But the actual
reason why stocks purchased at the above-named period would be pretty
sure to do well is, that by Old Christmas Day they would have passed
the perils of early winter, and would be hardly likely to find a buyer
unless their weight indicated that they had food supplies sufficient to
last till the flowers came again.
A second notion of this kind is, that if a swarm settles on a dry
stick or dead tree, the bees will not long survive. Doubtless, many
persons could be found to state that in their own apiaries they had
seen instances in which the one event had followed the other. We,
indeed, have had one such coincidence--a case in which a swarm settled
on a stake supporting an espalier apple-tree, and died during the
ensuing winter. Still, we are unable to believe that there is any
real connection between the incidents. Living trees offer so many
inducements to a swarm on the wing for settling--the benefit of shade
above all--that it is not to be wondered at that branches with foliage
are, if accessible, almost always chosen by the insects for alighting
on. It is just possible that an old and feeble queen may occasionally,
when heading a swarm, be unable to fly farther than a very short
distance, and, through fatigue, may settle on a post or other leafless
wood. Of course such a queen would be likely to die within a few months
at most, and thus involve the loss of the colony during the next
winter. Hence the idea we are speaking of _may_ have arisen.
We come now to a notion more widely prevalent than either of the
preceding, and perhaps even more absurd. We allude to the supposed
necessity of informing the bees of the death of their owner or of any
member of his family. So strongly is this fallacy held, that in many
country districts, especially among the cottagers, the question after
a decease in the household "Have the bees been told?" is almost as
much a matter of course as an inquiry whether the undertaker has been
sent for. Even in the depth of winter, it is thought by believers in
this superstition needful to "wake the bees," albeit we know that
they are not asleep, and tell them of the sad event, in which they are
supposed to have so profound an interest. In Maude's _Antiquities_ we
read of the following case in point: "A gentleman at a dinner table
happened to mention that he was surprised, on the death of a relative,
by his servant inquiring whether his master would inform the bees of
the event, or whether he should do so. On asking the meaning of so
strange a question, the servant assured him that bees ought always
to be informed of a death in the family, or they would resent the
neglect by deserting the hive. This gentleman resides in the Isle of
Ely, and the anecdote was told in Suffolk. One of the party present,
a few days afterwards took the opportunity of testing the prevalence
of this strange notion, by inquiring of a cottager, who had lately
lost a relative, and happened to complain of the loss of her bees,
whether she had told them all she ought to do. She immediately replied,
'Oh! yes, when my aunt died I told every skep myself, and put them
into mourning.' I have since ascertained the existence of the same
superstition in Cornwall, Devonshire, Gloucestershire (where I have
seen black crape put round the hive or on a small stick by its side),
and Yorkshire. There are many other singular notions afloat as to these
insects. In Oxfordshire I was told that, if man and wife quarrelled,
the bees would leave them.
"In the _Living Librairie_, Englished by John Molle, 1621, page 283, we
read, 'Who would beleeve without superstition (if experience did not
make it credible) that most commonly all the bees die in their hives
if the master or mistress of the house chance to die, except the hives
be presently removed into some other place? And yet I know this hath
hapned to folke no way stained with superstition.' A vulgar prejudice
prevails in many places of England that, when bees remove or go away
from their hives, the owner of them will die soon after."
A correspondent of _The Bee Journal_ writes under the head of "Norfolk
Bee-Superstition": "A neighbour of mine had bought a hive of bees at
an auction of the goods of a farmer, who had recently died. The bees
seemed very sickly, and not likely to thrive; when my neighbour's
servant bethought him they had never been put in mourning for their
late master. On this he got a piece of crape and tied it to a stick,
which he fastened to a hive. After this the bees recovered; and when
I saw them they were in a very flourishing state--a result which was
unhesitatingly attributed to their having been put into mourning."
It is more difficult to suggest the possible origin of these curious
fancies than to explain those previously mentioned. We may, perhaps, be
on the right track in supposing that it has often happened, when the
master or mistress of the bees has been ill or has died, the insects
have missed, especially in autumn or early spring, the attention
required for their welfare, and have, in consequence, perished.
Then other persons of the household, unacquainted with the actual
connection--in many instances a _vital_ connection--between the bees
and their owner, have attributed to them a bond not actually existing;
and so, being led to the silly notion of the insects grieving, or
needing to be informed, and to have their hive put in mourning, they
have easily diffused a superstition in which each favouring coincidence
would tell widely for its extended belief.
In the Norfolk case, narrated in _The Bee Journal_, several possible
explanations suggest themselves. In the first place, if the deceased
farmer was an inhabitant of the same village as the buyer of his
bees, and the hives were removed to a new home near their old one,
most of the bees which had previously flown would return to their
accustomed spot, and perish, not knowing their way to their changed
abode. Then, in the course of a fortnight or three weeks, a good number
of freshly-hatched insects would have strengthened the community,
and these, naturally, would return with their supplies to the fresh
domicile, and soon put matters into a flourishing condition.
Again, if dull gloomy weather followed the purchase of the bees, and
was succeeded by brighter days, coincidently with the fastening of
the stick and crape to the hives, the improved appearances would, of
course, be due to warmer temperature and sunnier hours, without any
change in the feelings of the insects from their abode being duly
adorned with the emblems of mourning.
Lastly, the explanation may be simply that, when the stock was bought
it was in poor condition, but that in two or three weeks, by the
hatching of brood in the natural course of events, a greatly improved
condition of affairs had come about. The first of these explanations,
however, is probably the correct one.
One more superstitious custom is said to prevail in Devonshire, viz.,
at the funeral of a deceased bee keeper, the turning round of every
hive that belonged to the departed, and this just at the moment the
corpse is being carried out of the house. We do not pretend to explain
this curious fancy. It may have originated in an experiment to avert
the supposed disastrous connection between the bees and the death of
their owner. Anything would seem to do for a charm to minds imbued with
superstition.
Borlase, in his _Antiquities of Cornwall_, mentions one other
superstition of apiarians of that county. He says: "The Cornish to this
day invoke the spirit Browny when their bees swarm; and think that
their crying 'Browny, Browny,' will prevent their returning to their
former hive, and make them pitch and form a new colony."
It is not wonderful that the many extraordinary facts connected with
bees, coming at various times under human observation, should have
led to notions of marvels, founded, not on observation, but on fancy.
There is a strong tendency in the human mind to desire explanations
of phenomena, and where there has been no scientific training in
observation, false deductions are easily arrived at, or guesses as to
causes are made, which have no foundation in fact. Bee-keeping has, for
the most part, till in quite recent times, been chiefly in the hands
of people of the more ignorant classes, among whom wonderful stories
easily arise, are rapidly propagated, and tenaciously believed. Any
circumstances seeming to support a previously established fancy would
serve to increase the strength of superstition; while any number of
instances not corroborating prevailing ideas would be disregarded.
But, when once the spirit of sound investigation is applied to these
vulgar errors, they become so manifestly absurd, that the marvel is how
they can possibly have arisen.
Without doubt, there are many extraordinary facts connected with
bees still awaiting the observation and the explanation of explorers
in this department of natural history. Problems connected with the
working of mind in the lower animals; the relations between reason
and instinct; the functions of particular organs in these and other
insects; the transmission of faculties not possessed by either parent
in particular races; the direction and variation in the working of
inherent faculties, through the agency of man, are subjects opening up
most interesting fields of inquiry, which we would point out to those
who have the inclination, leisure, and opportunities for pursuing
investigations. We are satisfied that efforts and time thus devoted
will be well repaid by the pleasure which springs from knowledge, and
will lead in all devout minds to enlarged admiration of the wisdom and
beneficence of Him, from whose creative power the varied structures
of animal life have come, and from whose infinite resources have been
bestowed all those faculties which call forth our astonishment and
delight as we study the facts of insect life. The deepest impression on
mind and heart will be that embodied in the exclamation of the ancient
Hebrew poet, "O Lord, how manifold are Thy works: in wisdom hast Thou
made them all."
CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE PROFITS OF BEE-KEEPING.
Methods of Honey-taking--Straw Caps--Bell-Glasses--Sections--
Frames--Extractors--Run Honey--Average Returns of Hives.
In our introduction, reference was made to the money-returns likely
to be derived from bee-keeping by persons of ordinary good sense, who
learn to manage their hives according to modern methods. Some few facts
relating to this point may be advantageously added.
With the different straw-skeps in use, three methods of honey-taking
may be adopted, without killing the bees. Among cottagers the usual
plan is to put on to the stock-hive a "cap" or smaller straw-hive, and
to remove this when full. Others, more wisely, induce their bees to
work in bell-glasses of various sizes and these, when nicely filled,
are very saleable, at a shilling or fifteen pence per lb. A third plan
is to fit a certain number of the "sections" described in Chapter XVII.
into a box or crate, and to place these on a strong stock. In the
height of a good season, from 12 lbs. to 15 lbs. of the purest honey
ought to be gathered in three or four weeks, by any of these methods.
With the bar-frame hives, either bell-glasses, or "sections," may be
still more advantageously filled; because, by judicious examination
and treatment of the stocks, these may be strengthened and helped, so
as to be in the most favourable condition for storing honey in large
quantities. It is no uncommon thing for 40 lbs. or 50 lbs. to be taken
in "sections" from a single flourishing hive; and, in an ordinary
season, the average amount from each stock ought not to be less than 20
lbs. Much, however, will depend on the control exercised over swarming.
Of course the more numerous the population is kept, the greater will be
the quantity of stores secured. If colony after colony is allowed to
be sent off, the less will be the strength of the parent-community for
food-gathering. Still, one swarm and 20 lbs. of honey in the season is
not an unreasonable amount to expect from a really good hive.
Again, from the modern wooden hives, frames of well-filled and sealed
comb may be taken, and after this has been cut out, the frames may
be put back into their places, having been first supplied with
"foundation," to give help and direction to the bees in working out new
combs for refilling. One such frame of sealed honey should weigh 5 lbs.
or 6 lbs.
Another plan, yielding by far the largest results, is to throw out the
honey from the combs as they are filled. By means of "extractors," of
which there are several kinds, the operation is very easy. The sealed
cells of one side must be uncapped, and the frame then subjected
to rapid rotation, which will cause the liquid to fly out through
centrifugal tendency. Having cleared one side, the other must be
operated upon in the same manner, and then the emptied combs should
be put back into the hive, in the same order as that in which they
have been taken out. In this way very large quantities of honey may be
obtained; for the bees, having no fresh comb to make, throw all their
energies into repairing and refilling the cells from which their stores
have been extracted. The liquid from the unsealed portions of the comb
is apt to be thin, and is then called "unripe." It requires to have
some of its water evaporated, either by exposure to the air or to heat.
If this precaution is neglected, this dilute honey is liable to ferment
and turn sour. The bees never seal any in the cells till it is of the
proper consistency for keeping. It is curious they should know when it
is in suitable condition for covering up from the air.
Marvellous accounts are received from time to time of the quantities
of honey obtained by bee-keepers who make free use of the "extractor."
Single hives have been known to yield in one season over 80 lbs.
in weight. The most satisfactory results are, probably, secured by
a selection of one of the various methods of honey-taking to which
we have alluded. The nature of the hive; the strength of the stock;
the prevention of swarming, or its permission; the supply of food
required for the honeyless part of the year,--all have to be taken into
consideration in deciding upon the method of removing honey, and the
amount which shall be abstracted.
For ordinary home use, run honey is most serviceable. As it can be
sold, moreover, at only a less price than that in sections or frames,
there is this further inducement for its consumption rather than its
sale. Ordinarily, not more than tenpence or a shilling a pound, at
most, can be obtained for it; while sealed honey in sections, or in
frames, is worth considerably more.
We need hardly say that the weather is a most important factor in
the success or failure of bee-keeping, in any particular year.
Apiculturists, like agriculturists, are subject to many and great
alternations of hope and fear. The brightest prospects of a bountiful
honey-harvest are often blighted by rainy or ungenial days in May and
June; and if these are succeeded by a cloudy, cold July, the bees will
not only not store any more honey than they will themselves require,
but may very possibly need liberal supplies of syrup in the autumn to
carry them through the winter.
Speaking in general terms of the profit to be made by amateur
bee-keepers, we may safely say that, in a series of years, the average
returns ought to be sufficient to pay the expenses of maintenance, and
to yield, in addition, swarms and honey to the value of, at least,
1_l._ per hive. Such results will, of course, not be attained without
patient and careful attention to the apiary; but such attention will
be further rewarded by the pleasures derivable from a knowledge of
the habits of the wonderful insects; from the successful pursuit of
a rational and inexpensive hobby; from the ability to interest and
instruct other people in this department of natural history; and
lastly, but not least, from enlarged conceptions of the attributes of
the Creator, whose almighty power and wisdom are proclaimed alike by
"sun and moon, and stars of light; mountains and all hills; fruitful
trees and all cedars; beasts and all cattle; creeping things and flying
fowl."
THE END.
LONDON: K. CLAY, SONS, AND TAYLOR, PRINTERS.
* * * * *
Transcriber Note
Minor typos corrected. In order to accommodate placement of some Figures,
paragraphs were split at logical break points.
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