SIGNS OF RECOGNITION
AMONG THE BEES.
The bees of a hive have the means of recognition, and of distinguishing
their companions from every stranger bee; without which they could
not defend their honey. In vain would the Creator have armed each of
them with a formidable sting, had they not been also given to know
the enemies which that sting was to pierce. Strangers would have gone
in and out without risk of detection or punishment, mingled with the
workers, and deprived them of treasures industriously collected. But
the All-wise Author of Nature, who has given them the means of defence,
has also endowed them with the instinct to distinguish enemies from
friends, even among their own species. Let a bee fall by accident, or
be driven by the wind, into a hive not its own, it is seized as one
suspected of evil intention, and put to death that moment.
What is their signal of recognition? What is the organ and the
instrument? Is it the antennæ,--those little flexible horns in front of
their heads? or is it by the smell they recognize each other?
A great inconvenience attending crowded apiaries is, that two or more
hives may have the same signal; but happily, in this case, which is
a rare one, they have the power of changing the signal; in proof of
which, the following circumstance happened with mine, in one of the
most abundant honey seasons.
In the month of May I had lodged my first swarm, which was a very
strong one, in a large straw hive. The weather being very mild, they
set to work immediately, and very soon filled more than half of the
hive. In a few days, I observed it was invaded by a swarm belonging to
one of my neighbours; that they went in and came out, without being
detected; and that they were carrying out as much honey as my bees were
bringing in.
I shut up one-half of their door; and, for nearly a whole week,
whenever I was at leisure, I stationed myself near my swarm, and killed
every day hundreds of the thieves, which were easily distinguished by
their shape,--slender enough when they went in, but puffed up as they
came out, with as much nectar as they could contain. This, however, did
not stop them, and they continued coming and going, in greater numbers,
till night, and beginning again early in the morning.
I had plenty of sport, but my labour was in vain, and I began to
despair of saving my swarm, when, one afternoon, I perceived it to be
agitated and troubled, as if it had lost its queen. The bees buzzed
about before the hive, and on the board, smelling and touching each
other, as if they would have spoken. It was to change their signal, and
which in fact they did change, during the night; and all the strangers
that came next day were arrested, and put to death. Some escaped the
vigilance of the guards that defended the entrance, and doubtless
warned the others of the danger they had escaped, and that they could
no more plunder with impunity: they returned no more, and my hive
prospered wonderfully. I have, in the course of my life, seen only
other two similar instances that had the same result.