The second nest was brought from tropical Africa, and is remarkable for another peculiarity. It is shaped much like a cushion, and its measurements are, eight inches in length, five and a half in breadth, and three in depth. Instead of having only one place of exit for the inmates, it has thirteen or fourteen, all formed in the same manner. A number of short, stiff, and almost bristly threads are set round the apertures, their ends all projecting outwards, and converging to a point, where they all meet and even slightly cross each other. Owing to this structure, it is easy enough for any of the insects to pass out, as the converging hairs yield to the pressure, whereas they form an effectual barrier against any insect that wishes to creep into the nest.
The material of the nest is very strong and hard, and is formed of two layers, the inner being made of smooth brown silk, and the outer of harsher and stronger orange silk threads.]
CHAPTER V.
ARCHITECTURE OF THE HIVE-BEE.
Although the hive-bee (Apis mellifica) has engaged the attention of the curious from the earliest ages, recent discoveries prove that we are yet only beginning to arrive at a correct knowledge of its wonderful proceedings. Pliny informs us that Astromachus, of Soles, in Cilicia, devoted fifty-eight years to the study; and that Philiscus the Thracian spent his whole life in forests for the purpose of observing them. But in consequence (as we may naturally infer) of the imperfect methods of research, assuming that what they did discover was known to Aristotle, Columella, and Pliny, we are justified in pronouncing the statements of these philosophers, as well as the embellished poetical pictures of Virgil, to be nothing more than conjecture, almost in every particular erroneous. It was not indeed till 1711, when glass hives were invented by Maraldi, a mathematician of Nico, that what we may call the in-door proceedings of bees could be observed. This important invention was soon afterwards taken advantage of by M. Réaumur, who laid the foundation of the more recent discoveries of John Hunter, Schirach, and the Hubers. The admirable architecture which bees exhibit in their miniature cities has, by these and other naturalists, been investigated with great care and accuracy. We shall endeavour to give as full an account of the wonderful structures as our limits will allow. In this we shall chiefly follow M. Huber the elder, whose researches appear almost miraculous when we consider that he was blind.
At the early age of seventeen this remarkable man lost his sight by gutta serena, the "drop serene" of our own Milton. But though cut off from the sight of Nature's works, he dedicated himself to their study. He saw them through the eyes of the admirable woman whom he married; his philosophical reasonings pointed out to her all that he wanted to ascertain; and as she reported to him from time to time the results of his ingenious experiments, he was enabled to complete, by diligent investigation, one of the most accurate and satisfactory accounts of the habits of bees which had ever been produced.
It had long been known that the bees of a hive consist of three sorts, which was ascertained by M. Réaumur to be distinguished as workers or neuters, constituting the bulk of the population; drones or males, the least numerous class; and a single female, the queen and mother of the colony. Schirach subsequently discovered the very extraordinary fact, which Huber and others have proved beyond doubt, that when a hive is accidentally deprived of a queen, the grub of a worker can be and is fed in a particular manner so as to become a queen and supply the loss. But another discovery of M. Huber is of more importance to the subject of architecture now before us. By minute research he ascertained that the workers which had been considered by former naturalists to be all alike, are divided into two important classes, nurse-bees and wax-makers.
The nurse-bees are rather smaller than the wax-workers, and even when gorged with honey their belly does not, as in the others, appear distended. Their business is to collect honey, and impart it to their companions; to feed and take care of the young grubs, and to complete the combs and cells which have been founded by the others; but they are not charged with provisioning the hive.
The wax-workers, on the other hand, are not only a little larger, but their stomach, when gorged with honey, is capable of considerable distension, as M. Huber proved by repeated experiments. He also ascertained that neither of the varieties can alone fulfil all the functions shared among the workers of a hive. He painted those of each class with different colours, in order to study their proceedings, and their labours were not interchanged. In another experiment, after supplying a hive deprived of a queen with brood and pollen, he saw the nurse-bees quickly occupied in the nutrition of the grubs, while those of the wax-working class neglected them. When hives are full of combs, the wax-workers disgorge their honey into the ordinary magazines, making no wax; but if they want a reservoir for its reception, and if their queen does not find cells ready made wherein to lay her eggs, they retain the honey in the stomach, and in twenty-four hours they produce wax. Then the labour of constructing combs begins.
It might perhaps be supposed that, when the country does not afford honey, the wax-workers consume the provision stored up in the hive. But they are not permitted to touch it. A portion of honey is carefully preserved, and the cells containing it are protected by a waxen covering, which is never removed except in case of extreme necessity, and when honey is not to be otherwise procured. The cells are at no time opened during summer; other reservoirs, always exposed, contribute to the daily use of the community; each bee, however, supplying itself from them with nothing but what is required for present wants. Wax-workers appear with large bellies at the entrance of their hive only when the country affords a copious collection of honey. From this it may be concluded that the production of the waxy matter depends on a concurrence of circumstances not invariably subsisting. Nurse-bees also produce wax, but in a very inferior quantity to what is elaborated by the real wax-workers. Another characteristic whereby an attentive observer can determine the moment of bees collecting sufficient honey to produce wax, is the strong odour of both these substances from the hive, which is not equally intense at any other time. From such data, it was easy for M. Huber to discover whether the bees worked in wax in his own hives, and in those of the other cultivators of the district.
There is still another sort of bee, first observed by Huber in 1809, which appear to be only casual inmates of the hive, and which are driven forth to starve, or are killed in conflict. They closely resemble the ordinary workers, but are less hairy, and of a much darker colour. These have been called black bees, and are supposed by Huber to be defective bees; but Kirby and Spence conjecture that they are toil-worn superannuated workers, of no further use, and are therefore sacrificed, because burdensome to a community which tolerates no unnecessary inmates.
Preparation of Wax.
In order to build the beautiful combs, which every one must have repeatedly seen and admired, it is indispensable that the architect-bees should be provided with the materials--with the wax, in short, of which they are principally formed. Before we follow them, therefore, to the operation of building, it may be necessary to inquire how the wax itself is procured. Here the discoveries of recent inquirers have been little less singular and unexpected than in other departments of the history of these extraordinary insects. Now that it has been proved that wax is secreted by bees, it is not a little amusing to read the accounts given by our elder naturalists, of its being collected from flowers. Our countryman, Thorley, appears to have been the first who suspected the true origin of wax, and Wildman (1769) seems also to have been aware of it; but Réaumur, and particularly Bonnet, though both of them in general shrewd and accurate observers, were partially deceived by appearances.
The bees, we are erroneously told, search for wax "upon all sorts of trees and plants, but especially the rocket, the simple poppy, and in general all kinds of flowers. They amass it with their hair, with which their whole body is invested. It is something pleasant to see them roll in the yellow dust which falls from the chives to the bottom of the flowers, and then return covered with the same grains; but their best method of gathering the wax, especially when it is not very plentiful, is to carry away all the little particles of it with their jaws and fore feet, to press the wax upon them into little pellets, and slide them one at a time, with their middle feet, into a socket or cavity, that opens at their hinder feet, and serves to keep the burthen fixed and steady till they return home. They are sometimes exposed to inconveniences in this work by the motion of the air, and the delicate texture of the flowers, which bend under their feet and hinder them from packing up their booty, on which occasions they fix themselves in some steady place, where they press the wax into a mass, and wind it round their legs, making frequent returns to the flowers; and when they have stocked themselves with a sufficient quantity, they immediately repair to their habitation. Two men, in the compass of a whole day, could not amass so much as two little balls of wax; and yet they are no more than the common burthen of a single bee, and the produce of one journey. Those who are employed in collecting the wax from flowers are assisted by their companions, who attend them at the door of the hive, ease them of their load at their arrival, brush their feet, and shake out the two balls of wax; upon which the others return to the fields to gather new treasure, while those who disburthened them convey their charge to the magazine. But some bees, again, when they have brought their load home, carry it themselves to the lodge, and there deliver it, laying hold of one end by their hinder feet, and with their middle feet sliding it out of the cavity that contained it; but this is evidently a work of supererogation which they are not obliged to perform. The packets of wax continue a few moments in the lodge, till a set of officers come, who are charged with a third commission, which is to knead this wax with their feet, and spread it out into different sheets, laid one above another. This is the unwrought wax, which is easily distinguished to be the produce of different flowers, by the variety of colours that appear on each sheet. When they afterwards come to work, they knead it over again; they purify and whiten, and then reduce it to a uniform colour. They use this wax with a wonderful frugality; for it is easy to observe that the whole family is conducted by prudence, and all their actions regulated by good government. Everything is granted to necessity, but nothing to superfluity; not the least grain of wax is neglected, and if they waste it, they are frequently obliged to provide more; at those very times when they want to get their provision of honey, they take off the wax that closed the cells, and carry it to the magazine."
Réaumur hesitated in believing that this was a correct view of the subject, from observing the great difference between wax and pollen; but he was inclined to think the pollen might be swallowed, partially digested, and disgorged in the form of a kind of paste. Schirach also mentions, that it was remarked by a certain Lusatian, that wax comes from the rings of the body, because, on withdrawing a bee while it is at work, and extending its body, the wax may be seen there in the form of scales.
The celebrated John Hunter shrewdly remarked that the pellets of pollen seen on the thighs of bees are of different colours on different bees, while the shade of the new-made comb is always uniform; and therefore he concluded that pollen was not the origin of wax. Pollen also, he observed, is collected with greater avidity for old hives, where the comb is complete, than for those where it is only begun, which would hardly be the case were it the material of wax. He found that when the weather was cold and wet in June, so that a young swarm was prevented from going abroad, as much comb was constructed as had been made in an equal time when the weather was favourable and fine.
The pellets of pollen on the thighs being thence proved not to be wax, he came to the conclusion that it was an external secretion, originating between the plates of the belly. When he first observed this, he felt not a little embarrassed to explain the phenomenon, and doubted whether new plates were forming, or whether bees cast their old ones as lobsters do their shell. By melting the scales, he ascertained at least that they were wax; and his opinion was confirmed by the fact, that the scales are only to be found during the season when the combs are constructed. But he did not succeed in completing the discovery by observing the bees actually detach the scales, though he conjectured they might be taken up by others, if they were once shaken out from between the rings.
We need not be so much surprised at mistakes committed upon this subject, when we recollect that honey itself was believed by the ancients to be an emanation of the air--a dew that descended upon flowers, as if it had a limited commission to fall only on them. The exposure and correction of error is one of the first steps to genuine knowledge; and when we are aware of the stumbling-blocks which have interrupted the progress of others, we can always travel more securely in the way of truth.
That wax is secreted is proved both by the wax-pouches within the rings of the abdomen, and by actual experiment. Huber and others fed bees entirely upon honey or sugar, and, notwithstanding, wax was produced and combs formed as if they had been at liberty to select their food. "When bees were confined," says M. Huber, "for the purpose of discovering whether honey was sufficient for the production of wax, they supported their captivity patiently, and showed uncommon perseverance in rebuilding their combs as we removed them. Our experiments required the presence of grubs; honey and water had to be provided; the bees were to be supplied with combs containing brood, and at the same time it was necessary to confine them, that they might not seek pollen abroad. Having a swarm by chance, which had become useless from sterility of the queen, we devoted it for our investigation in one of my leaf-hives, which was glazed on both sides. We removed the queen, and substituted combs containing eggs and young grubs, but no cell with farina; even the smallest particle of the substance which John Hunter conjectured to be the basis of the nutriment of the young was taken away.
"Nothing remarkable occurred during the first and second day: the bees brooded over the young, and seemed to take an interest in them; but at sunset on the third a loud noise was heard in the hive. Impatient to discover the reason, we opened a shutter, and saw all in confusion; the brood was abandoned, the workers ran in disorder over the combs, thousands rushed towards the lower part of the hive, and those about the entrance gnawed at its grating. Their design was not equivocal; they wished to quit their prison. Some imperious necessity evidently obliged them to seek elsewhere what they could not find in the hive; and apprehensive that they might perish if I restrained them longer from yielding to their instinct, I set them at liberty. The whole swarm escaped, but the hour being unfavourable for their collections, they flew around the hive, and did not depart far from it. Increasing darkness and the coolness of the air compelled them very soon to return. Probably these circumstances calmed their agitation; for we observed them peaceably remounting their combs; order seemed re-established, and we took advantage of this moment to close the hive.
"Next day, the 19th of July, we saw the rudiments of two royal cells, which the bees had formed on one of the brood-combs. This evening, at the same hour as on the preceding, we again heard a loud buzzing in the closed hive; agitation and disorder rose to the highest degree, and we were again obliged to let the swarm escape. The bees did not remain long absent from their habitation; they quieted and returned as before. We remarked on the 20th that the royal cells had not been continued, as would have been the case in the ordinary state of things. A great tumult took place in the evening; the bees appeared to be in a delirium; we set them at liberty, and order was restored on their return. Their captivity having endured five days, we thought it needless to protract it farther; besides, we were desirous of knowing whether the brood was in a suitable condition, and if it had made the usual progress; and we wished also to try to discover what might be the cause of the periodical agitation of the bees. M. Burnens (the assistant of Huber), having exposed the two brood-combs, the royal cells were immediately recognised; but it was obvious that they had not been enlarged. Why should they? Neither eggs, grubs, nor that kind of paste peculiar to the individuals of their species were there! The other cells were vacant likewise; no brood, not an atom of paste, was in them. Thus, the worms had died of hunger. Had we precluded the bees from all means of sustenance by removing the farina? To decide this point, it was necessary to confide other brood to the care of the same insects, now giving them abundance of pollen. They had not been enabled to make any collections while we examined their combs. On this occasion they escaped in an apartment where the windows were shut; and after substituting young worms for those they had allowed to perish, we returned them to their prison. Next day we remarked that they had resumed courage; they had consolidated the combs, and remained on the brood. They were then provided with fragments of combs, where other workers had stored up farina; and to be able to observe what they did with it, we took this substance from some of their cells, and spread it on the board of the hive. The bees soon discovered both the farina in the combs and what we had exposed to them. They crowded to the cells, and also descending to the bottom of the hives, took the pollen grain by grain in their teeth, and conveyed it to their mouths. Those that had eaten it most greedily mounted the combs before the rest, and stopping on the cells of the young worms, inserted their heads, and remained there for a certain time. M. Burnens opened one of the divisions of the hive gently, and powdered the workers, for the purpose of recognising them when they should ascend the combs. He observed them during several hours, and by this means ascertained that they took so great a quantity of pollen only to impart it to their young. Then withdrawing the portions of comb which had been placed by us on the board of the hive, we saw that the pollen had been sensibly diminished in quantity. They were returned to the bees, to augment their provision still further, for the purpose of extending the experiment. The royal, as well as several common, cells were soon closed; and, on opening the hive, all the worms were found to have prospered. Some still had their food before them; the cells of others that had spun were shut with a waxen covering.
"We witnessed these facts repeatedly, and always with equal interest. They so decisively prove the regard of the bees towards the grubs which they are intrusted with rearing, that we shall not seek for any other explanation of their conduct. Another fact, no less extraordinary, and much more difficult to be accounted for, was exhibited by bees constrained to work in wax, several times successively, from the syrup of sugar. Towards the close of the experiment they ceased to feed the young, though in the beginning these had received the usual attention. They even frequently dragged them from their cells, and carried them out of the hive."
Mr. Wiston, of Germantown, in the United States, mentions a fact conclusive on this subject. "I had," says he, "a late swarm last summer, which, in consequence of the drought, filled only one box with honey. As it was late in the season, and the food collected would not enable the bees to subsist for the winter, I shut up the hive, and gave them half-a-pint of honey every day. They immediately set to work, filled the empty cells, and then constructed new cells enough to fill another box, in which they deposited the remainder of the honey."
A more interesting proof is thus related by the same gentleman: "In the summer of 1824, I traced some wild bees, which had been feeding on the flowers in my meadow, to their home in the woods, and which I found in the body of an oak-tree, exactly fifty feet above the ground. Having caused the entrance to the hive to be closed by an expert climber, the limbs were separated in detail, until the trunk alone was left standing. To the upper extremity of this, a tackle-fall was attached so as to connect it with an adjacent tree, and, a saw being applied below, the naked trunk was cut through. When the immense weight was lowered nearly to the earth, the ropes broke, and the mass fell with a violent crash. The part of the tree which contained the hive, separated by the saw, was conveyed to my garden, and placed in a vertical position. On being released, the bees issued out by thousands, and though alarmed, soon became reconciled to the change of situation. By removing a part of the top of the block the interior of the hive was exposed to view, and the comb itself, nearly six feet in height, was observed to have fallen down two feet below the roof of the cavity. To repair the damage was the first object of the labourers: in doing which, a large part of their store of honey was expended, because it was at too late a season to obtain materials from abroad. In the following February these industrious but unfortunate insects issuing in a confused manner from the hive, fell dead in thousands around its entrance, the victims of a poverty created by their efforts to repair the ruins of their habitation."
In another experiment, M. Huber confined a swarm so that they had access to nothing beside honey, and five times successively removed the combs with the precaution of preventing the escape of the bees from the apartment. On each occasion they produced new combs, which puts it beyond dispute that honey is sufficient to effect the secretion of wax without the aid of pollen. Instead of supplying the bees with honey, they were subsequently fed, exclusively, on pollen and fruit; but though they were kept in captivity for eight days under a bell-glass, with a comb containing nothing but farina, they neither made wax nor was any secreted under the rings. In another series of experiments, in which bees were fed with different sorts of sugar, it was found that nearly one-sixth of the sugar was converted into wax, dark-coloured sugar yielding more than double the quantity of refined sugar.
It may not be out of place to subjoin the few anatomical and physiological facts which have been ascertained by Huber, Maddle, Jurine, and Latreille.
The first stomach of the worker-bee, according to Latreille, is appropriated to the reception of honey, but this is never found in the second stomach, which is surrounded with muscular rings, and from one end to the other very much resembles a cask covered with hoops. It is within these rings that the wax is produced; but the secreting vessels for this purpose have hitherto escaped the researches of the acutest naturalists. Huber, however, plausibly enough conjectures that they are contained in the internal lining of the wax-pockets, which consists of a cellular substance reticulated with hexagons. The wax-pockets themselves, which are concealed by the overlapping of the rings, may be seen by pressing the abdomen of a worker-bee so as to lengthen it, and separate the rings further from each other. When this has been done, there may be seen on each of the four intermediate hoops of the belly, and separated by what may be called the keel (carina), two whitish-coloured pouches, of a soft texture, and in the form of a trapezium. Within, the little plates or scales of wax are produced from time to time, and are removed and employed as we shall presently see. We may remark, that it is chiefly the wax-workers which produce the wax; for though the nurse-bees are furnished with wax-pockets, they secrete it only in very small quantities; while in the queen-bee, and the males or drones, no pockets are discoverable.
"All the scales," says Huber, "are not alike in every bee, for a difference is perceptible in consistence, shape, and thickness; some are so thin and transparent as to require a magnifier to be recognised, or we have been able to discover nothing but spiculæ similar to those of water freezing. Neither the spiculæ nor the scales rest immediately on the membrane of the pocket, a slight liquid medium is interposed, serving to lubricate the joinings of the rings, or to render the extraction of the scales easier, as otherwise they might adhere too firmly to the sides of the pockets." M. Huber has seen the scales so large as to project beyond the rings, being visible without stretching the segments, and of a whitish yellow, from greater thickness lessening their transparency. These shades of difference in the scales of various bees, their enlarged dimensions, the fluid interposed beneath them, the correspondence between the scale and the size and form of the pockets, seem to infer the oozing of this substance through the membranes whereon it is moulded. He was confirmed in this opinion by the escape of a transparent fluid on piercing the membrane, whose internal surface seemed to be applied to the soft parts of the belly. This he found coagulated in cooling, when it resembled wax, and again liquefied on exposure to heat. The scales themselves, also, melted and coagulated like wax.
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