HONEY-BEES.
That branch of natural history which treats of INSECTS is
called entomology. And Linnæus, the celebrated naturalist and botanist,
and the father of the classification of animated and vegetable nature,
has divided insects into seven orders; the fifth of which is termed
hymenoptera, and includes all those insects that have four membranous,
gauze-like wings, and that are furnished with a sting, or with a process
resembling one. To this class the Honey-Bee belongs. It has, however,
been so repeatedly described by naturalists and by apiarian authors, that
it would be difficult to say any thing respecting it as an insect merely
that has not been said before. It is, moreover, so universally known,
that it may seem to be a superfluous undertaking to attempt to describe
it at all. As, however, my little work might be deemed to be imperfect
without some account of it, I will present to my readers the substance
of what appears to me to be a condensed, well-written article on the Bee.
It is from Watkins' Cyclopædia.
There are, he says, and I believe it, fifty-five species of Bees. The
general characteristics of the Bee are these:--its mouth has two jaws
and a proboscis enfolded in a double sheath; its wings are four, the
lower or under pair of which is smaller than the upper pair; in the anus
of the female and working Bees is a concealed sting. Of the fifty-five
species the HONEY-BEE--classically, or at any rate entomologically--apis
mellifica, is the most interesting and important, and that with which I
am directly concerned. Of this Bee there are three kinds--the Queen, the
drone, and the working Bee; it is no more than justice to the draughtsman
and to the engraver to say, the following are beautiful representations,
except the head of the working Bee, which is too round.
[Illustration]
Fig. 1. represents a Drone.
-- 2. ---------- a working Bee.
-- 3. ---------- a Queen Bee.
The _Drones_ are larger than the others; their heads are round, eyes
foil, and their tongues short; they are also much darker and differ
in the form of the belly; they have no sting, and they make a greater
noise in flying than the common Bees. Generally speaking, they are
found in hives from the beginning of May to the middle or latter end of
July: sometimes they may be seen earlier, especially in good stocks;
and sometimes their destruction does not take place till the middle
of August, or even later. They neither collect honey nor wax. It has
been supposed that their office is to impregnate the eggs of the Queen
_after_ they are deposited in the cells; but according to Mr. Bonner
this _supposition_ is a mistake. In this I agree with him, and beg to
remark--that in no case is a supposition a proof. Bonner says that the
Queen lays eggs which produce young Bees without any communication with
the drones. He supports this position by the statement of several very
exact experiments. In this opinion he is supported by the respectable
evidence of Schirach. On the mysterious subject of the Queen's
impregnation I am inclined to coincide in opinion with Huber, whose
multiplied observations, and various and curious experiments, do render
it highly probable that the Queen is impregnated by the drone, not whilst
in the hive, but whilst flying in the air: but of this debatable subject
more by and by.
The QUEEN-BEE is easily distinguished from other Bees by the form, size,
and colour of her body. She is larger, longer at least, and her wings are
shorter in proportion to her size than those of other Bees. The wings of
drones and of common working Bees cover their bodies, but those of the
Queen scarcely reach beyond the middle. Her hinder part tapers more than
the corresponding part of other Bees, and is admirably adapted for the
purpose of being introduced into the cells to deposit her eggs, which she
does without being incommoded by her wings, as she no doubt would be,
were they long in proportion to the length of her body. Considering then
the office she has to perform, the shortness of her wings and the length
and tapering of her body are alike conveniences to her; her belly and
legs are yellower, and her upper parts darker than those of other Bees.
Though furnished with a sting, she very rarely uses it, and will bear
being handled without being provoked. A young Queen is smaller than a
full grown one. When three or four days old she is quick in her motions;
but when impregnated she becomes heavy. The common or working Bees have
the faculty or instinctive power of raising a Queen-Bee, when they are
in want of one, from an egg in a common cell. To do this, they choose a
common cell in which is an egg, and inject a thick, white, liquid matter
from their proboscis, they then build on the edges of that particular
cell and enlarge it; on the fifth day the royal maggot appears in the
form of a semicircle, in which form it swims in the midst of the matter
in the cell; and on the seventh day it is sealed up. During which period
the embryo Queen undergoes various metamorphoses. On the fourteenth or
fifteenth day afterwards it comes forth a perfect Queen-Bee. Schirach has
discovered a method of multiplying Queen-Bees to almost any extent, and
consequently of making artificial stocks. This can only be successfully
accomplished when there are in a hive eggs, nymphs, and little maggots
two or three days out of the cell, that is, when there is in a hive
young brood in these three different stages of existence. When a Queen
dies and the Bees are left without the means of raising another, that
is--when there are no eggs nor young brood of a proper age in the hive,
the Bees cease working, consume the honey, fly about at random, and if
not supplied with another Queen, soon dwindle away; but if supplied
with a new Queen, they revive, and exercise their labour with new and
increased activity. The Queen is, as it were, the very soul of the hive.
It has been computed that the ovary of the Queen contains above 5000 eggs
at once, and that in the space of two months she may produce 10 or 12,000
Bees. I am inclined to think that this computation is too-limited: from
what I have witnessed in my observatory-hive this summer (1832), I am led
to conclude that a fertile Queen is capable of laying far more than the
beforementioned number of eggs in the space of two months.
The _working Bees_ are considerably smaller than either the drones or
the Queen. They, like the others, have four wings, which enable them to
fly with heavy loads. They have six legs, of which the two foremost are
the shortest, and with these they discharge themselves of their loads.
The two last or hindmost are the largest, and on the outside of the
middle joint of these is a cavity in which the Bees collect the materials
for wax, which materials they carry home to their hives; this hollow
is peculiar to the working Bee. Each foot terminates in two hooks. The
honey-bladder is of the size of a small pea, and very transparent. The
sting is horny and hollow, through which the poison is ejected. The wound
inflicted by it is mortal to many insects; and instances are not wanting
of horses and cows having been stung to death by Bees. When the sting is
left in the wound, and being barbed it commonly is left there, the Bee
that loses it dies in consequence.
With regard to the age of Bees, the drones have a short life, being
destroyed annually by the working Bees; these--the workers--are supposed
by some to live but one year, but others are of opinion that they live
several years: those of them that escape a premature death will live, if
I mistake not, three or four years, or even longer. I once clipped one
of the wings of a Queen so that I could identify her, in case I should
ever meet with her again: I then returned her to her hive, and had the
good fortune to see her several times afterwards during three successive
years. Of course she lived more than three years. What became of her at
last I do not know; nor whether she may not still survive I do not know.
If, however, working Bees be as long-lived as Queen-Bees, and I think
it will be difficult to assign a good reason why they should not, they
may live to be three or four years of age, and perhaps more than that.
The ample provision they make for life seems to me to be a _natural_
indication that they expect at least to live to have occasion for it.
Sometimes fierce, destructive battles take place between the Bees of
different hives in an apiary, and when the Queen of one hive is killed,
the war ceases, and the surviving Bees of the two hives unite and become
one peaceable stock.
Some apiarians have obtained an extraordinary command over Bees,
particularly Mr. Wildman, who could entice a whole swarm to settle
just where he pleased--on his chin, on his head, on his hand, or on
any particular branch of a tree; but these feats, so surprising to the
beholders, he effected, as any other dexterous person may, by getting
possession of the Queen-Bee, and placing her where he intended the Bees
should settle; for it is a well-ascertained fact, that such is the
attachment of Bees to their Queen, that they will congregate around her,
and, as far as they can, protect her in whatever situation they find her.
Were the attachment and _allegiance_ of all subjects to their legitimate
sovereigns thus true and powerful, it would, as Sterne says, be something!
In working the Bees are said by some, whose sayings are perhaps more
fanciful than correct, in the following instance at least;--it has,
however, been _said_--that in working the Bees form themselves into four
companies, one of which roves the fields in search of materials for the
hive, another is employed in laying out the bottoms and partitions of the
cells, the third in smoothing the inside from the corners and angles,
and the fourth in bringing food for the rest. According to this account
some are labourers, others are builders, others finishers, and others
purveyors. As there is no difference in the formation of the workers, I
see no reason for assigning them any particular task or sort of work,
nor do I think the allotment of labour just mentioned rests upon any
other foundation than that of vague conjecture. Their diligence, however,
and activity, are so great, that in a favourable day they will make
cells which lie on each other, sufficient to contain some thousands of
Bees. To keep their habitations--their hives, close and tight, they make
use of a resinous gum, which the ancients called, and which is still
called--_propolis_. This substance is at first soft and pliable, but
becomes firmer every day; when it has acquired its proper consistency,
it is harder than wax and is an excellent cement. They guard against the
entrance of ants and other inimical insects into their hive, by gluing
or filling up with this propolis the smallest inlets; and with it they
fasten the edge of their hive to its floor in a very secure manner. Some
Bees stand as sentinels, and mount guard, as it were, to prevent the
intrusion of strangers and enemies. But if a snail, or other reptile, or
any large insect, forces its way into the hive, they first kill it, and
then coat it over with propolis, to prevent being annoyed by the noisome
smell, or by the maggots which might proceed from its putrefaction, if
left to putrefy. Bees can perceive the approach of bad weather; for
when black clouds are in the sky indicating rain, they immediately hurry
home with the greatest speed; and when to the eye of man there is no
visible token of a sudden shower or other immediate change from fine
weather to foul, Bees are aware of it, and by their sudden, hurried
return to their hives, are the first to prognosticate a change as near;
nor, often as I have observed them, have I ever found them wrong in this
respect. The manner in which Bees rest when they settle, after having
swarmed, and frequently in the hive also, is by collecting themselves
into a cluster and hanging to each other by the hooks of their feet.
When the weather has been warm I have frequently seen them, presently
after being admitted into an end-box, hang in catkins or ropes: this
they no doubt do to cool themselves the more. To view the Bees suspended
from one another in these single ropes is a natural curiosity well worth
attention. The flight of Bees when swarming is singularly rapid and most
extraordinary: during some minutes after having risen into the air, they
dart across each other in every conceivable direction, wheel round and
shoot through the merry crowd again, again wheel round and again dart
through; and notwithstanding the very limited space within which they
confine their gambols on these occasions, they never seem to come in
contact or to clash with each other; though animated and excited to a
degree of apparently frantic ovation, I never have observed one Bee fall
foul of another, and this it is that strikes me as being wonderful. The
balls attached to the legs of Bees returning to the hives, consist of
a powder gathered from the stamina of flowers, not yet brought to the
state of wax. The Bee, when it enters the cup of the flower, rolls itself
till its whole body is covered with the yellow farina that is therein.
It then brushes off this powdery farina with its hind legs, and kneads
it into two balls or small pellets, loaded with which it returns to the
hive. Bees powdered all over with farina may frequently be seen entering
their hive: the Bees thus covered carry their loads upon their whole
bodies, without the labour of packing them upon their thighs. Probably
when farina is collected in the immediate vicinity of their hives, Bees
may have the wisdom (I know not what else it can be properly called) to
save themselves the labour of brushing and making it into pellets. Some
authors hold that this substance is eaten by degrees, and being digested
in the body of the Bee, that it becomes wax,--or that by some peculiar
process it certainly is converted into wax,--and that when there is a
superfluous quantity of this undigested, or unmanufactured matter, it is
laid up in store, and is called _Bee-bread_. For my part I am of opinion
that farina is stored up purely as Bee-bread and food for the young
brood, and that _it enters not into the composition of wax_. The material
of which wax is formed I take to be quite distinct from farina--a
material of a different nature.
The following account of a working Bee appeared in the Farmers' Journal
some time ago, I subjoin it, because, in some respects, it is more
particular than that just given; but in one thing it is deficient--it
makes no mention of the eyes--the two luminaries or lights of the body.
The eyes of Bees are of an oblong figure, black like jet, transparent and
immoveable.
BEE, says the Farmers' Journal, a small and well-known insect, famous
for its industry. This useful and laborious insect is divided by two
ligaments into three parts or portions,--the head, the breast, and the
belly. The head is armed with two jaws and a trunk, the former of which
play like two jaws, opening and shutting to the right and left; the trunk
is long and tapering, and at the same time extremely pliant and flexible,
being destined by nature for the insect to probe to the bottom of the
flowers, through all the impediments of their chives and foliage, and
drain them of their treasured sweets: but were this trunk to be always
extended, it would prove incommodious, and be liable to be injured by a
thousand accidents; it is therefore of such a structure, that after the
performance of its necessary functions, it may be contracted, or rather
folded up; and besides this, it is fortified against all injuries by
four strong scales, two of which closely sheath it, and the two others,
whose cavities and dimensions are larger, encompass the whole. From the
middle-part or breast of the Bee grow the legs, which are six in number;
and at the extremity of the paws are two little hooks, discernible by the
microscope, which appear like sickles, with their points opposite to each
other.
The wings are four, two greater and two smaller, which not only serve to
transport them through the air, but, by the noise they make, to give
notice of their departure and arrival, and to animate them mutually to
their labours. The hairs, with which the whole body is covered, are of
singular use in retaining the small dust that falls from the chives of
the flowers. The belly of the Bee consists of six rings, which slide over
one another, and may therefore be lengthened or contracted at pleasure;
and the inside of this part of the body contains the intestines,--the
bag of honey,--the bag of poison,--and the sting. The office of the
intestines is the same as in other animals. The bag of honey is
transparent as crystal, containing the sweet juices extracted from the
flowers, which the Bee discharges into the cells of the magazine for the
support of the community in w inter.
The bag of poison hangs at the root of the sting, through the cavity of
which, as through a pipe, the Bee ejects some drops of this venomous
liquor into the wound made by the sting, and so renders the pain more
excessive. The mechanism of the sting is admirable, being composed of two
darts, inclosed within a sheath that tapers into a fine point, near which
is an opening to let out the poison; the two darts are ejected through
another aperture, which being armed with several sharp beards, like those
of fish-hooks, are not easily drawn back again by the Bee; and indeed she
never disengages them if the wounded party happens to start and put her
in confusion; but if, when stung, one can have patience to continue calm
and unmoved, the stinging Bee clinches those lateral points round the
shaft of the dart, by which means she recovers her weapon, and gives less
pain to the person stung.
FOR THE STING OF A BEE.
The poisonous liquor which the stinging Bee infuses into the wound causes
a fermentation, attended with a swelling, which continues sometimes
several days; but that may be prevented by immediately pulling out the
sting, and enlarging the puncture, to let the venomous matter have room
to escape.
Many nostrums have been recommended as cures--_infallible cures_, of
course--for the sting of a Bee, a few of which I will just mention;
premising, however, that I myself never make use of any of them; for,
if by chance a Bee happens to sting me, which is very rarely indeed
the case, though I never so much as cover my face, nor even put on a
pair of gloves, when operating among thousands and tens of thousands of
Bees, I extract the sting instanter, and never afterwards experience the
least pain, nor suffer the slightest inconvenience. But, if the sting be
suffered to remain in the flesh, during a few seconds only, it is not
very easy to stop the inflammation and to allay the pain. An onion cut
horizontally into thin slices, and pressed closely to the wounded part,
and renewed at short intervals, has been accounted a good application. If
the part stung be first well-rubbed with one of those slices, that would
perhaps have a soothing effect. The juice of the plantain is also said to
be a specific; olive oil is another; so is common salt; so is laudanum;
so is spirits of hartshorn; so is a solution of sal ammoniac; and so is
chalk or whitening.
The DOCTOR (and who so likely to prescribe properly for the case
as the Doctor?) says[F] "common whitening proves an effectual remedy
against the effects of the sting of a Bee or wasp. The whitening is to be
moistened with cold water, and immediately applied. It may be washed off
in a few minutes, when neither pain nor swelling will ensue."
[Footnote F: See "The Doctor," page 15.]
In "The Apiarian's Guide, by J. H. Payne," published since the first
edition of this work, I find the following novel mode of treatment
recommended as "almost a perfect cure," and which is said to be "as
immediate as it is effectual." "The method I (J. H. Payne, Esq.) have
of late adopted, by which the pain is instantly removed, and both the
swelling and inflammation prevented, is to pull out the sting as soon
as possible, and take a piece of iron and heat it in the fire, or for
want of that, take a live coal, (if of wood the better, because it lasts
longer) and hold it as near to the place as I can possibly endure it, for
five minutes; if from this application a sensation of heart (quere heat)
should be occasioned, a little oil of turpentine or goulard cerate must
be applied.
"I have found the quicker the application, the more effectual the
cure."[G]
[Footnote G: See the Apiarian's Guide, pp. 58, 59.]
Pressure with the hollowed end of a small key, or with a pencil-case, is
practised by some unfortunates, and is said to check the circulation of
the poison.
This last mode of treatment--i. e. pressure with a small key, or
pencil-case--the smaller the better--is the simplest, and, if
_immediately_ adopted, is I believe the very best: but its efficacy
depends upon the instant application of the key or pencil-case to the
part stung, by which the poisonous matter is not only prevented from
being absorbed into the system, but the puncture is laid open, and the
virus thereby expressed and entirely got rid of more readily than by any
other means.
Accidents may sometimes happen, and the most cautious and humane apiarian
may occasionally receive a sting; but gentle treatment does not irritate
Bees; and when not irritated they have no disposition to use their
stings.