Chapter VI Architecture of the Hive-Bee Continued — Form of the Cells
The obstruction of which M. Huber complains only operated as a stimulus to his ingenuity in contriving how he might continue his interesting observations. From the time of Pappus to the present day, mathematicians have applied the principles of geometry to explain the construction of the cells of a bee-hive; but though their extraordinary regularity, and wonderfully-selected form, had so often been investigated by men of the greatest talent, and skilled in all the refinements of science, the process by which they are constructed, involving also the causes of their regularity of form, had not been traced till M. Huber devoted himself to the inquiry.
As the wax-workers secrete only a limited quantity of wax, it is indispensably requisite that as little as possible of it should be consumed, and that none of it should be wasted. Bees, therefore, as M. Réaumur well remarks,AQ have to solve this difficult geometrical problem:—a quantity of wax being given, to form of it similar and equal cells of a determinate capacity, but of the largest size in proportion to the quantity of matter employed, and disposed in such a manner as to occupy the least possible space in the hive. This problem is solved by bees in all its conditions. The cylindrical form would seem to be best adapted to the shape of the insect; but had the cells been cylindrical, they could not have been applied to each other without leaving a vacant and superfluous space between every three contiguous cells. Had the cells, on the other hand, been square or triangular, they might have been constructed without unnecessary vacancies; but these forms would have both required more material, and have been very unsuitable to the shape of a bee’s body. The six-sided form of the cells obviates every objection; and while it fulfils the conditions of the problem, it is equally adapted with a cylinder to the shape of the bee.
M. Réaumur further remarks, that the base of each cell, instead of forming a plane, is usually composed of three pieces in the shape of the diamonds on playing cards, and placed in such a manner as to form a hollow pyramid. This structure, it may be observed, imparts a greater degree of strength, and, still keeping the solution of the problem in view, gives a great capacity with the smallest expenditure of material. This has actually, indeed, been ascertained by mathematical measurement and calculation. Maraldi, the inventor of glass hives, determined, by minutely measuring these angles, that the greater were 109° 28’, and the smaller 70° 32’; and M. Réaumur, being desirous to know why these particular angles are selected, requested M. Kœnig, a skilful mathematician (without informing him of his design, or telling him of Maraldi’s researches), to determine by calculation what ought to be the angle of a six-sided cell, with a concave pyramidal base, formed of three similar and equal rhomboid plates, so that the least possible matter should enter into its construction. By employing what geometricians denominate the infinitesimal calculus, M. Kœnig found that the angles should be 109° 26’ for the greater, and 70° 34’ for the smaller, or about two-sixtieths of a degree, more or less, than the actual angles made choice of by bees. The equality of inclination in the angles has also been said to facilitate the construction of the cells.
M. Huber adds to these remarks, that the cells of the first row, by which the whole comb is attached to the roof of a hive, are not like the rest; for, instead of six sides, they have only five, of which the roof forms one. The base, also, is in these different, consisting of three pieces on the face of the comb, and on the other side of two: one of these only is diamond-shaped, while the other two are of an irregular four-sided figure. This arrangement, by bringing the greatest number of points in contact with the interior surface, insures the stability of the comb.
It may, however, be said not to be quite certain, that Réaumur and others have not ascribed to bees the merit of ingenious mathematical contrivance and selection, when the construction of the cells may more probably originate in the form of their mandibles and the other instruments employed in their operations. In the case of other insects, we have, both in the preceding and subsequent pages of this volume, repeatedly noticed, that they use their bodies, or parts thereof, as the standards of measurement and modelling; and it is not impossible that bees may proceed on a similar principle. M. Huber replies to this objection, that bees are not provided with instruments corresponding to the angles of their cells; for there is no more resemblance between these and the form of their mandibles, than between the chisel of the sculptor and the work which he produces. The head, he thinks, does not furnish any better explanation. He admits that the antennæ are very flexible, so as to enable the insects to follow the outline of every object; but concludes that neither their structure, nor that of the limbs and mandibles, are adequate to explain the form of the cells, though all these are employed in the operations of building,—the effect, according to him, depending entirely on the object which the insect proposes.
We shall now follow M. Huber in the experiments which he contrived, in order to observe the operations of the bees subsequent to their laying a foundation for the first cell; and we shall again quote from his own narrative:—
“It appeared to me,” he says, “that the only method of isolating the architects, and bringing them individually into view, would be to induce them to change the direction of their operations and work upwards.
“I had a box made twelve inches square and nine deep, with a moveable glass lid. Combs, full of brood, honey, and pollen, were next selected from one of my leaf-hives, as containing what might interest the bees, and being cut into pieces a foot long, and four inches deep, they were arranged vertically at the bottom of the box, at the same intervals as the insects themselves usually leave between them. A small slip of wooden lath covered the upper edge of each. It was not probable that the bees would attempt to found new combs on the glass roof of the box, because its smoothness precluded the swarm from adhering to it; therefore, if disposed to build, they could do so over the slips resting on the combs, which left a vacuity five inches high above them. As we had foreseen, the swarm with which this box was peopled established itself among the combs below. We then observed the nurse-bees displaying their natural activity. They dispersed themselves throughout the hive, to feed the young grubs, to clear out their lodgment, and adapt it for their convenience. Certainly, the combs, which were roughly cut to fit the bottom of the box, and in some parts damaged, appeared to them shapeless and misplaced; for they speedily commenced their reparation. They beat down the old wax, kneaded it between their teeth, and thus formed binding materials to consolidate them. We were astonished beyond expression by such a multitude of workers employed at once in labours to which it did not appear they should have been called, at their coincidence, their zeal, and their prudence.
“But it was still more wonderful, that about half the numerous population took no part in the proceedings, remaining motionless, while the others fulfilled the functions required. The wax-workers, in a state of absolute repose, recalled our former observations. Gorged with the honey we had put within their reach, and continuing in this condition during twenty-four hours, wax was formed under their rings, and was now ready to be put in operation. To our great satisfaction, we soon saw a little foundation-wall rising on one of the slips that we had prepared to receive the superstructure. No obstacle was offered to the progress of our observations; and for the second time we beheld both the undertaking of the founder-bee, and the successive labours of several wax-workers, in forming the foundation-wall. Would that my readers could share the interest which the view of these architects inspired!
“This foundation, originally very small, was enlarged as the work required; while they excavated on one side a hollow, of about the width of a common cell, and on the opposite surface two others somewhat more elongated. The middle of the single cell corresponded exactly to the partition separating the latter: the arches of these excavations, projecting by the accumulation of wax, were converted into ridges in a straight line; whence the cells of the first row were composed of five sides, considering the slip as one side, and those of the second row, of six sides.
“The interior conformation of the cavities, apparently, was derived from the position of their respective outlines. It seemed that the bees, endowed with an admirable delicacy of feeling, directed their teeth principally to the place where the wax was thickest; that is, the parts where other workers on the opposite side had accumulated it; and this explains why the bottom of the cell is excavated in an angular direction behind the projection on the sides of which the sides of the corresponding cells are to rise. The largest of the excavations, which was opposite to three others, was divided into three parts, while the excavations of the first row on the other face, applied against this one, were composed of only two.
“In consequence of the manner in which the excavations were opposed to each other, those of the second row, and all subsequent, partially applied to three cavities, were composed of three equal diamond-shaped lozenges. I may here remark, that each part of the labour of bees appears the natural result of what has preceded it: therefore, chance has no share in these admirable combinations.
“A foundation-wall rose above the slip like a minute vertical partition, five or six lines long, two lines high, but only half a line in thickness; the edge circular, and the surface rough. Quitting the cluster among the combs, a nurse-bee mounted the slip, turned around the block, and visiting both sides, began to work actively in the middle. It removed as much wax with its teeth as might equal the diameter of a common cell; and after kneading and moistening the particles, deposited them on the edge of the excavation. This insect having laboured some seconds, retired, and was soon replaced by another; a third continued the work, raising the margin of the edges, now projecting from the cavity, and with assistance of its teeth and feet fixing the particles, so as to give these edges a straighter form. More than twenty bees successively participated in the same work; and when the cavity was little above a line and a half in height, though equalling a cell in width, a bee left the swarm, and after encircling the block, commenced its operations on the opposite face, where yet untouched. But its teeth acting only on one half of this side, the hollow which it formed was opposite to only one of the slight prominences bordering the first cavity. Nearly at the same time another worker began on the right of the face that had been untouched, wherein both were occupied in forming cavities which may be designed the second and third; and they also were replaced by substitutes. These two latter cavities were separated only by the common margin, framed of particles of wax withdrawn from them; which margin corresponded with the centre of the cavity on the opposite surface. The foundation-wall itself was still of insufficient dimensions to admit the full diameter of a cell: but while the excavations were deepened, wax-workers, extracting their scales of wax, applied them in enlarging its circumference; so that it rose nearly two lines further around the circular arch. The nurse-bees, which appeared more especially charged with sculpturing the cells, being then enabled to continue their outlines, prolonged the cavities, and heightened their margins on the new addition of wax.
“The arch, formed by the edge of each of these cavities, was next divided as by two equal chords, in the line of which the bees formed stages or projecting borders, or margins meeting at an obtuse angle: the cavities now had four margins, two lateral and perpendicular to the supporting slip, and two oblique, which were shorter.
“Meantime, it became more difficult to follow the operations of the bees, from their frequently interposing their heads between the eye of the observer and the bottom of the cell; but the partition, whereon their teeth laboured, had become so transparent as to expose what passed on the other side.
“The cavities of which we speak formed the bottom of the first three cells; and while the bees engaged were advancing them to perfection, other workers commenced sketching a second row of cells above the first, and partly behind those in front—for, in general, their labour proceeds by combination. We cannot say, ‘When bees have finished this cell, they will begin new ones;’ but, ‘while particular workers advance a certain portion, we are certain that others will carry on the adjacent cells.’ Further, the work begun on one face of the comb is already the commencement of that which is to follow on the reverse. All this depends on a reciprocal relation, or a mutual connexion of the parts, rendering the whole subservient to each other. It is undoubted, therefore, that slight irregularities on the front will affect the form of the cells on the back of the comb.”AR
When they have in this manner worked the bottoms of the first row of cells into the required forms, some of the nurse-bees finish them by imparting a sort of polish, while others proceed to cut out the rudiments of a second row from a fresh wall of wax which has been built in the meanwhile by the wax-workers, and also on the opposite side of this wall; for a comb of cells is always double, being arranged in two layers, placed end to end. The cells of this second row are engrafted on the borders of cavities hollowed out in the wall, being founded by the nurse-bees, bringing the contour of all the bottoms, which is at first unequal, to the same level; and this level is kept uniform in the margins of the cells till they are completed. At first sight nothing appears more simple than adding wax to the margins; but from the inequalities occasioned by the shape of the bottom, the bees must accumulate wax on the depressions, in order to bring them to a level. It follows accordingly that the surface of a new comb is not quite flat, there being a progressive slope produced as the work proceeds, and the comb being therefore in the form of a lens, the thickness decreasing towards the edge, and the last-formed cells being shallower or shorter than those preceding them. So long as there is room for the enlargement of the comb, this thinning of its edge may be remarked; but as soon as the space within the hive prevents its enlargement, the cells are made equal, and two flat and level surfaces are produced.
M. Huber observed, that while sketching the bottom of a cell, before there was any upright margin on the reverse, their pressure on the still soft and flexible wax gave rise to a projection, which sometimes caused a breach of the partition. This, however, was soon repaired, but a slight prominence always remained on the opposite surface, to the right and left of which they placed themselves to begin a new excavation; and they heaped up part of the materials between the two flutings formed by their labour. The ridge thus formed becomes a guide to the direction which the bees are to follow for their vertical furrow of the front cell.
We have already seen that the first cell determines the place of all that succeed it, and two of these are never, in ordinary circumstances, begun in different parts of the hive at the same time, as is alleged by some early writers. When some rows of cells, however, have been completed in the first comb, two other foundation-walls are begun, one on each side of it, at the exact distance of one-third of an inch, which is sufficient to allow two bees employed on the opposite cells to pass each other without jostling. These new walls are also parallel to the former; and two more are afterwards begun exterior to the second, and at the same parallel distance. The combs are uniformly enlarged, and lengthened in a progression proportioned to the priority of their origin; the middle comb being always advanced beyond the two adjoining ones by several rows of cells, and these again beyond the ones exterior to them. Did the bees lay the foundations of all their combs at the same time, they would not find it easy to preserve parallelism and an equality in their distances. It may be remarked further, that beside the vacancies of half an inch between the cells, which form what we call the highways of the community, the combs are pierced in several places with holes which serve as postern-gates for easy communication from one to another, to prevent loss of time in going round. The equal distance between the combs is of more importance to the welfare of the hive than might at first appear; for were they too distant, the bees would be so scattered and dispersed, that they could not reciprocally communicate the heat indispensable for hatching the eggs and rearing the young. If the combs, on the other hand, were closer, the bees could not traverse the intervals with the freedom necessary to facilitate the work of the hive. On the approach of winter, they sometimes elongate the cells which contain honey, and thus contract the intervals between the combs. But this expedient is in preparation for a season when it is important to have copious magazines, and when, their activity being relaxed, it is unnecessary for their communications to be so spacious and free. On the return of spring, the bees hasten to contract the elongated cells, that they may become fit for receiving the eggs which the queen is about to deposit, and in this manner they re-establish the regular distance.AS
We are indebted to the late Dr. Barclay of Edinburgh, well known as an excellent anatomist, for the discovery that each cell in a honeycomb is not simply composed of one wall, but consists of two. We shall give the account of his discovery in his own words:—
“Having inquired of several naturalists whether or not they knew any author who had mentioned that the partitions between the cells of the honeycomb were double, and whether or not they had ever remarked such a structure themselves, and they having answered in the negative, I now take the liberty of presenting to the Society pieces of honeycomb, in which the young bees had been reared, upon breaking which, it will be clearly seen that the partitions between different cells, at the sides and the base, are all double; or, in other words, that each cell is a distinct, separate, and in some measure an independent structure, agglutinated only to the neighbouring cells; and that when the agglutinating substance is destroyed, each cell may be entirely separated from the rest.
“I have also some specimens of the cells formed by wasps, which show that the partitions between them are also double, and that the agglutinating substance between them is more easily destroyed than that between the cells of the bee.”AT
Irregularities in their Workmanship.
Though bees, however, work with great uniformity when circumstances favour their operations, they may be compelled to vary their proceedings. M. Huber made several ingenious experiments of this kind. The following, mentioned by Dr. Bevan, was accidental, and occurred to his friend Mr. Walond. “Inspecting his bee-boxes at the end of October, 1817, he perceived that a centre comb, burthened with honey, had separated from its attachments, and was leaning against another comb so as to prevent the passage of the bees between them. This accident excited great activity in the colony; but its nature could not be ascertained at the time. At the end of a week, the weather being cold, and the bees clustered together Mr. Walond observed, through the window of the box, that they had constructed two horizontal pillars betwixt the combs alluded to, and had removed so much of the honey and wax from the top of each as to allow the passage of a bee: in about ten days more there was an uninterrupted thoroughfare; the detached comb at its upper part had been secured by a strong barrier, and fastened to the window with the spare wax. This being accomplished, the bees removed the horizontal pillars first constructed, as being of no further use.”AU
A similar anecdote is told by M. Huber. “During the winter,” says he, “a comb in one of my bell-glass hives, having been originally insecure, fell down, but preserved its position parallel to the rest. The bees were unable to fill up the vacuity left above it, because they do not build combs of old wax, and none new could be then obtained. At a more favourable season they would have engrafted a new comb on the old one; but now their provision of honey could not be spared for the elaboration of this substance, which induced them to insure the stability of the comb by another process.
“Crowds of bees taking wax from the lower part of other combs, and even gnawing it from the surface of the orifices of the deepest cells, they constructed so many irregular pillars, joists, or buttresses, between the sides of the fallen comb, and others on the glass of the hive. All these were artificially adapted to localities. Neither did they confine themselves to repairing the accidents which their works had sustained. They seemed to profit by the warning to guard against a similar casualty.
“The remaining combs were not displaced; therefore, while solidly adhering by the base, we were greatly surprised to see the bees strengthen their principal fixtures with old wax. They rendered them much thicker than before, and fabricated a number of new connections, to unite them more firmly to each other and to the sides of their dwelling. All this passed in the middle of January, a time that these insects commonly keep in the upper part of their hive, and when work is no longer seasonable.”AV
M. Huber the younger shrewdly remarks, that the tendency to symmetry observable in the architecture of bees does not hold so much in small details as in the whole work, because they are sometimes obliged to adapt themselves to particular localities. One irregularity leads on to another, and it commonly arises from mere accident, or from design on the part of the proprietor of the bees. By allowing, for instance, too little interval between the spars for receiving the foundation of the combs, the structure has been continued in a particular direction. The bees did not at first appear to be sensible of the defect, though they afterwards began to suspect their error, and were then observed to change their line of work till they gained the customary distance. The cells having been by this change of direction in some degree curved, the new ones which were commenced on each side of it, by being built everywhere parallel to it, partook of the same curvature. But the bees did not relish such approaches to the “line of beauty,” and exerted themselves to bring their buildings again into the regular form.
In consequence of several irregularities which they wished to correct, the younger Huber has seen bees depart from their usual practice, and at once lay on a spar two foundation-walls not in the same line. They could consequently neither be enlarged without obstructing both, nor from their position could the edges unite, had they been prolonged. The little architects, however, had recourse to a very ingenious contrivance: they curved the edges of the two combs, and brought them to unite so neatly that they could be both prolonged in the same line with ease; and when carried to some little distance, their surface became quite uniform and level.
“Having seen bees,” says the elder Huber, “work both up and down, I wished to try to investigate whether we could compel them to construct their combs in any other direction. We endeavoured to puzzle them with a hive glazed above and below, so that they had no place of support but the upright sides of their dwelling; but, betaking themselves to the upper angle, they built combs perpendicular to one of these sides, and as regularly as those which they usually build under a horizontal surface. The foundations were laid on a place which does not serve naturally for the base, yet, except in the difference of direction, the first row of cells resembled those in ordinary hives, the others being distributed on both faces, while the bottoms alternately corresponded with the same symmetry. I put the bees to a still greater trial. As they now testified their inclination to carry their combs, by the shortest way, to the opposite side of the hive (for they prefer uniting them to wood, or a surface rougher than glass), I covered it with a pane. Whenever this smooth and slippery substance was interposed between them and the wood, they departed from the straight line hitherto followed, and bent the structure of their comb at a right angle to what was already made, so that the prolongation of the extremity might reach another side of the hive, which had been left free.
“Varying this experiment in several ways, I saw the bees constantly change the direction of their combs, when I presented to them a surface too smooth to admit of their clustering on it. They always sought the wooden sides. I thus compelled them to curve the combs in the strangest shapes, by placing a pane at a certain distance from their edges. These results indicate a degree of instinct truly wonderful. They denote even more than instinct: for glass is not a substance against which bees can be warned by nature. In trees, their natural abode, there is nothing that resembles it, or with the same polish. The most singular part of their proceeding is changing the direction of the work before arriving at the surface of the glass, and while yet at a distance suitable for doing so. Do they anticipate the inconvenience which would attend any other mode of building? No less curious is the plan adopted by the bee for producing an angle in the combs: the wonted fashion of their work, and the dimensions of the cells, must be altered. Therefore, the cells on the upper or convex side of the combs are enlarged; they are constructed of three or four times the width of those on the opposite surface. How can so many insects, occupied at once on the edges of the combs, concur in giving them a common curvature from one extremity to the other? How do they resolve on establishing cells so small on one side, while dimensions so enlarged are bestowed on those of the other? And is it not still more singular, that they have the art of making a correspondence between cells of such reciprocal discrepance? The bottom being common to both, the tubes alone assume a taper form. Perhaps no other insect has afforded a more decisive proof of the resources of instinct, when compelled to deviate from the ordinary course.
“But let us study them in their natural state, and there we shall find that the diameter of their cells must be adapted to the individuals which shall be bred in them. The cells of males have the same figure, the same number of lozenges and sides, as those of workers, and angles of the same size. Their diameter is 3-1/3 lines, while those of workers are only 2-2/5.
“It is rarely that the cells of males occupy the higher part of the combs. They are generally in the middle or on the sides, where they are not isolated. The manner in which they are surrounded by other cells alone can explain how the transition in size is effected. When the cells of males are to be fabricated under those of workers, the bees make several rows of intermediate cells, whose diameter augments progressively, until gaining that proportion proper to the cells required; and in returning to those of workers, a lowering is observed in a manner corresponding.
“Bees, in preparing the cells of males, previously establish a block or lump of wax on the edge of their comb, thicker than is usually employed for those of workers. It is also made higher, otherwise the same order and symmetry could not be preserved on a larger scale.
“Several naturalists notice the irregularities in the cells of bees as so many defects. What would have been their astonishment had they observed that part of them are the result of calculation? Had they followed the imperfection of their organs, some other means of compensating them would have been granted to the insects. It is much more surprising that they know how to quit the ordinary route, when circumstances demand the construction of enlarged cells; and, after building thirty or forty rows of them, to return to the proper proportions from which they have departed by successive reductions. Bees also augment the dimensions of their cells when there is an opportunity for a great collection of honey. Not only are they then constructed of a diameter much exceeding that of the common cells, but they are elongated throughout the whole space admitting it. A great portion of irregular comb contains cells an inch, or even an inch and a half, in depth.
“Bees, on the contrary, sometimes are induced to shorten their cells. When wishing to prolong an old comb, whose cells have received their full dimensions, they gradually reduce the thickness of its edges, by gnawing down the sides of the cells, until they restore it to its original lenticular form. They add a waxen block around the whole circumference, and on the edge of the comb construct pyramidal bottoms, such as those fabricated on ordinary occasions. It is a certain fact, that a comb never is extended in any direction unless the bees have thinned the edges, which are diminished throughout a sufficient space to remove any angular projection.
“The law which obliges these insects partly to demolish the cells on the edges of the comb before enlarging it, unquestionably demands more profound investigation. How can we account for instinct leading them to undo what they have executed with the utmost care? The wonted regular gradation which may be necessary for new cells, subsists among those adjoining the edges of a comb recently constructed. But afterwards, when those on the edge are deepened like the cells of the rest of the surface, the bees no longer preserve the decreasing gradation which is seen in the new combs.”AW
The Finishing of the Cells.
While the cells are building they appear to be of a dull white colour, soft, even, though not smooth, and translucent; but in a few days they become tinged with yellow, particularly on the interior surface; and their edges, from being thin, uniform, and yielding, become thicker, less regular, more heavy, and so firm that they will bend rather than break. New combs break on the slightest touch. There is also a glutinous substance observable around the orifices of the yellow cells, of reddish colour, unctuous, and odoriferous. Threads of the same substance are applied all around the interior of the cells, and at the summit of their angles, as if it were for the purpose of binding and strengthening the walls. These yellow cells also require a much higher temperature of water to melt them than the white ones.
It appeared evident, therefore, that another substance, different from wax, had been employed in varnishing the orifices, and strengthening the interior of the cells. M. Huber, by numerous experiments, ascertained the resinous threads lining the cells, as well as the resinous substance around their orifice, to be propolis; for he traced them, as we mentioned in our account of propolis, from the poplar buds where they collected it, and saw them apply it to the cells; but the yellow colour is not imparted by propolis, to which it bears no analogy. We are, indeed, by no means certain what it is, though it was proved by experiment not to arise from the heat of the hives, nor from emanations of honey, nor from particles of pollen. Perhaps it may be ascribed to the bees rubbing their teeth, feet, and other parts of their body, on the surfaces where they seem to rest; or to their tongue (haustellum) sweeping from right to left like a fine pliant pencil, when it appears to leave some sprinkling of a transparent liquid.
Besides painting and varnishing their cells in this manner, they take care to strengthen the weaker part of their edifice by means of a mortar composed of propolis and wax, and named pissocerosAX by the ancients who first observed it, though Réaumur was somewhat doubtful respecting the existence of such a composition. We are indebted to the shrewd observations of Huber for a reconcilement of the Roman and the French naturalists. The details which he has given of his discovery are perhaps the most interesting in his delightful book.
“Soon,” he says, “after some new combs had been finished in a hive, manifest disorder and agitation prevailed among the bees. They seemed to attack their own works. The primitive cells, whose structure we had admired, were scarcely recognizable. Thick and massive walls, heavy, shapeless pillars, were substituted for the slight partitions previously built with such regularity. The substance had changed along with the form, being composed apparently of wax and propolis. From the perseverance of the workers in their devastation, we suspected that they proposed some useful alteration of their edifices; and our attention was directed to the cells least injured. Several were yet untouched; but the bees soon rushed precipitately on them, destroyed the tubes, broke down the wax, and threw all the fragments about. But we remarked that the bottom of the cells of the first row were spared; neither were the corresponding parts on both faces of the comb demolished at the same time. The bees laboured at them alternately, leaving some of the natural supports, otherwise the comb would have fallen down, which was not their object: they wished, on the contrary, to provide it a more solid base, and to secure its union to the vault of the hive, with a substance whose adhesive properties infinitely surpassed those of wax. The propolis employed on this occasion had been deposited in a mass over a cleft of the hive, and had hardened in drying, which probably rendered it more suitable for the purpose. But the bees experienced some difficulty in making any impression on it; and we thought, as also had appeared to M. de Réaumur, that they softened it with the same frothy matter from the tongue which they use to render wax more ductile.
“We very distinctly observed the bees mixing fragments of old wax with the propolis, kneading the two substances together to incorporate them; and the compound was employed in rebuilding the cells that had been destroyed. But they did not now follow their ordinary rules of architecture, for they were occupied by the solidity of their edifices alone. Night intervening, suspended our observations, but next morning confirmed what we had seen.
“We find, therefore, that there is an epoch in the labour of bees, when the upper foundation of their combs is constructed simply of wax, as Réaumur believed; and that, after all the requisite conditions have been attained, it is converted to a mixture of wax and propolis, as remarked by Pliny so many ages before us. Thus is the apparent contradiction between these two great naturalists explained. But this is not the utmost extent of the foresight of these insects. When they have plenty of wax, they make their combs the full breadth of the hive, and solder them to the glass or wooden sides, by structures more or less approaching the form of cells, as circumstances admit. But should the supply of wax fail before they have been able to give sufficient diameter to the combs whose edges are rounded, large intervals remain between them and the upright sides of the hive, and they are fixed only at the top. Therefore, did not the bees provide against it, by constructing great pieces of wax mixed with propolis, in the intervals, they might be borne down by the weight of the honey. These pieces are of irregular shape, strangely hollowed out, and their cavities void of symmetry.”AY
It is remarked by the lively Abbé la Pluche, that the foundations of our houses sink with the earth on which they are built, the walls begin to stoop by degrees, they nod with age, and bend from their perpendicular;—lodgers damage everything, and time is continually introducing some new decay. The mansions of the bees, on the contrary, grow stronger the oftener they change inhabitants. Every bee-grub, before its metamorphosis into a nymph, fastens its skin to the partitions of its cell, but in such a manner as to make it correspond with the lines of the angle, and without in the least disturbing the regularity of the figure. During summer, accordingly, the same lodging may serve for three or four grubs in succession; and in the ensuing season it may accommodate an equal number. Each grub never fails to fortify the panels of its chamber by arraying them with its spoils, and the contiguous cells receive a similar augmentation from its brethren.AZ Réaumur found as many as seven or eight of these skins spread over one another: so that all the cells being incrusted with six or seven coverings, well dried and cemented with propolis, the whole fabric daily acquires a new degree of solidity.
It is obvious, however, that by a repetition of this process the cell might be rendered too contracted; but in such a case the bees know well how to proceed, by turning the cells to other uses, such as magazines for bee-bread and honey. It has been remarked, however, that in the hive of a new swarm, during the months of July and August, there are fewer small bees or nurse-bees than in one that has been tenanted four or five years. The workers, indeed, clean out the cell the moment that a young bee leaves its cocoon, but they never detach the silky film which it has previously spun on the walls of its cell. But though honey is deposited after the young leave the cells, the reverse also happens; and accordingly, when bees are bred in contracted cells, they are by necessity smaller, and constitute, in fact, the important class of nurse-bees.
We are not disposed, however, to go quite so far as an American periodical writer, who says, “Thus we see that the contraction of the cell may diminish the size of a bee, even to the extinction of life, just as the contraction of a Chinese shoe reduces the foot even to uselessness.”BA We know, on the contrary, that the queen-bee will not deposit eggs in a cell either too small or too large for the proper rearing of the young. In the case of large cells, M. Huber took advantage of a queen that was busy depositing the eggs of workers to remove all the common cells adapted for their reception, and left only the larger cells appropriated for males. As this was done in June, when bees are most active, he expected that they would have immediately repaired the breaches he had made; but to his great surprise they did not make the slightest movement for that purpose. In the meanwhile the queen, being oppressed by her eggs, was obliged to drop them about at random, preferring this to depositing them in the male cells, which she knew to be too large. At length she did deposit six eggs in the large cells, which were hatched as usual three days after. The nurse-bees, however, seemed to be aware that they could not be reared there, and though they supplied them with food, did not attend to them regularly. M. Huber found that they had been all removed from the cells during the night, and the business both of laying and nursing was at a complete stand for twelve days, when he supplied them again with a comb of small cells, which the queen almost immediately filled with eggs, and in some cells she laid five or six.
[The accompanying illustration exhibits these three kinds of bees, namely, the Queen, the Drone, and the Worker, together with the cells which they respectively inhabit. Fig. 1 shows the queen-bee as she appears when in command of a hive. When she first issues from the royal cell, she is much smaller in the body, and an inexperienced observer might have some difficulty in distinguishing her from an ordinary worker. But any one who has been accustomed to bees can pick her out as soon as his eyes rest upon her. Her body is rather larger and narrower than those of the workers, and the wings are shorter in proportion, slightly crossing at the tips when she is at rest. Fig. 2 represents the common worker-bee, which, as has already been mentioned, is simply an undeveloped female. Fig. 3 is the male or drone-bee, which is easily distinguishable, even by a novice. He is larger, stouter, and heavier built than the female; his eyes are so enormous that they seem to occupy nearly the entire head, and he has some well-defined tufts of hair on the end of the abdomen. He can even be detected by the ear, as he flies, the deep droning hum being quite unlike the fussy, business-like sound produced by the worker. Fig. 4 represents one of the royal cells, a little reduced in size. In making this cell, the bees lose sight of their habitual economy of wax, and use enough material for fifty ordinary cells. It is probable that the great size of the cell enables the inclosed insect to expand, and so to be capable of becoming the mother as well as the ruler of her subjects. The royal cell is always placed at the edge of a comb, so as not to interfere with the other cells, which contain honey, bee-bread, and grubs; and in each hive there are generally several of these cells in different stages of structure. Figs. 5 and 6 represent the proportionate sizes of the cells which contain the drone and worker bees.]
The architecture of the hive, which we have thus detailed, is that of bees receiving the aid of human care, and having external coverings of a convenient form, prepared for their reception. In this country bees are not found in a wild state; though it is not uncommon for swarms to stray from their proprietors. But these stray swarms do not spread colonies through our woods, as they are said to do in America. In the remoter parts of that continent there are no wild bees. They precede civilization; and thus when the Indians observe a swarm they say, “The white man is coming.” There is evidence of bees having abounded in these islands, in the earlier periods of our history; and Ireland is particularly mentioned by the Venerable Bede as being “rich in milk and honey.”BB The hive-bee has formed an object of economical culture in Europe at least for two thousand years; and Varro describes the sort of hives used in his time, 1870 years ago. We are not aware, however, that it is now to be found wild in the milder clime of Southern Europe, any more than it is in our own island.
The wild bees of Palestine principally hived in rocks. “He made him,” says Moses, “to suck honey out of the rock.”BC “With honey out of the rock,” says the Psalmist, “should I have satisfied thee.”BD In the caves of Salsette and Elephanta, at the present day, they hive in the clefts of the rocks, and the recesses among the fissures, in such numbers as to become very troublesome to visitors. Their nests hang in innumerable clusters.BE
We are told of a little black stingless bee found in the island of Guadaloupe, which hives in hollow trees or in the cavities of rocks by the sea-side, and lays “up honey in cells about the size and shape of pigeons’ eggs. These cells are of a black or deep-violet colour, and so joined together as to leave no space between them. They hang in clusters almost like a bunch of grapes.”BF The following are mentioned by Lindley as indigenous to Brazil. “On an excursion towards Upper Tapagippe,” says he, “and skirting the dreary woods which extend to the interior, I observed the trees more loaded with bees’ nests than even in the neighbourhood of Porto Seguro. They consist of a ponderous shell of clay, cemented similarly to martins’ nests, swelling from high trees about a foot thick, and forming an oval mass full two feet in diameter. When broken, the wax is arranged as in our hives, and the honey abundant.”BG
Captain Basil Hall found in South America the hive of a honey-bee very different from the Brazilian, but nearly allied to, if not the same as, that of Guadaloupe. “The hive we saw opened,” he says, “was only partly filled, which enabled us to see the economy of the interior to more advantage. The honey is not contained in the elegant hexagonal cells of our hives, but in wax bags, not quite so large as an egg. These bags or bladders are hung round the sides of the hive, and appear about half full; the quantity being probably just as great as the strength of the wax will bear without tearing. Those near the bottom, being better supported, are more filled than the upper ones. In the centre of the lower part of the hive we observed an irregularly-shaped mass of comb, furnished with cells like those of our bees, all containing young ones in such an advanced state, that, when we broke the comb, and let them out, they flew merrily away.”
Clavigero, in his ‘History of Mexico,’ evidently describing the same species of bee, says it abounds in Yucatan, and makes the honey of Estabentum, the finest in the world, and which is taken every two months. He mentioned another species of bee, smaller in size, and also without a sting, which forms its nest of the shape of a sugar-loaf, and as large or larger. These are suspended from trees, particularly from the oak, and are much more populous than our common hives.
Wild honey-bees of some species appear also to abound in Africa. Mr. Park, in his second volume of travels, tells us that some of his associates imprudently attempted to rob a numerous hive of its honey, when the exasperated bees, rushing out to defend their property, attacked their assailants with great fury, and quickly compelled the whole company to fly.
At the Cape of Good Hope the bees themselves must be less formidable, or more easily managed, as their hives are sought for with avidity. Nature has there provided man with a singular and very efficient assistant in a bird, most appropriately named the honey-guide (Indicator major, Veillot; Cuculus indicator, Latham). The honey-guide, it is said, so far from being alarmed at the presence of man, appears anxious to court his acquaintance, and flits from tree to tree with an expressive note of invitation, the meaning of which is both well known to the colonists and the Hottentots. A person thus invited by the honey-guide seldom refuses to follow it onward till it stops, as it is certain to do, at some hollow tree containing a bee-hive, usually well stored with honey and wax. It may be that the bird finds itself inadequate to the attack of a legion of bees, or to penetrate into the interior of the hive, and is thence led to invite an agent more powerful than itself. The person invited, indeed, always leaves the bird a share of the spoil, as it would be considered sacrilege to rob it of its due, or in any way to injure so sacred a bird.
Useful, however, as is the honey-guide, it must always be carefully watched, and the traveller must not follow it without keeping his eyes well open. For although, as a general fact, the bird will lead its followers to honey, it has a strange habit of leading them to the spot where lies hidden some dangerous animal. Sometimes it brings them to a rhinoceros, wallowing in a mud pool. Sometimes it directs them to a solitary buffalo, one of the most dangerous animals that Southern Africa produces, and one which the natives fear but little less than the lion itself. And more than once the too-confiding traveller has followed the honey-guide, and been led to a spot where was lying one of the venomous serpents.
The Americans, who have not the African honey-guide, employ several well-known methods to track bees to their hives. One of the most common though ingenious modes is to place a piece of bee-bread on a flat surface, a tile for instance, surrounding it with a circle of wet white paint. The bee, whose habit it is always to alight on the edge of any plane, has to travel through the paint to reach the bee-bread. When, therefore, she flies off, the observer can track her by the white on her body. The same operation is repeated at another place, at some distance from the first, and at right angles to the bee-line just ascertained. The position of the hive is easily determined, for it lies in the angle made by the intersection of the bee-lines. Another method is described in the ‘Philosophical Transactions for 1721.’ The bee-hunter decoys, by a bait of honey, some of the bees into his trap, and when he has secured as many as he judges will suit his purpose, he encloses one in a tube, and, letting it fly, marks its course by a pocket-compass. Departing to some distance, he liberates another, observes its course, and in this manner determines the position of the hive, upon the principle already detailed. These methods of bee-hunting depend upon the insect’s habit of always flying in a right line to its home. Those who have read Cooper’s tale of the ‘Prairie’ must well remember the character of the bee-hunter, and the expression of “lining a bee to its hive.”
In reading these and similar accounts of the bees of distant parts of the world, we must not conclude that the descriptions refer to the same species as the common honey-bee. There are numerous species of social bees, which, while they differ in many circumstances, agree in the practice of storing up honey, in the same way as we have numerous species of the mason-bee and of the humble-bee.