BEE-spoke-data/bees-v0 huggingface dataset:
The age which individual members of the community may attain, must not be confounded with that of the colony. Bees have been known to occupy the same domicile for a great number of years. I have seen flourishing colonies more than twenty years old; the Abbo Della Roeca speaks of some over forty years old; and Stoche says, that he saw a colony, which he was assured had swarmed annually for forty-six years! "Such cases have led to the erroneous opinion, that bees are a long-lived race. But this, as Dr. Evans has observed, is just as wise as if a stranger, contemplating a populous city, and personally unacquainted with its inhabitants, should, on paying it a second visit, many years after, and finding it equally populous, imagine that it was peopled by the same individuals, not one of whom might then be living.
egin{tabular}{l} \({}^{\star}\)Like leaves on trees, the race of bees is found, \ Now green in youth, now withering on the ground; \ Another race the Spring or Fall supplies, \ They droop successive, and successive rise.'" \ Eram. \ \end{tabular}
The cocoons spun by the larva are never removed by the bees; they adhere so closely to the sides of the cells, that the labor of removal would cost more than it would be worth. As the breeding cells may eventually become too small for the proper development of the young, very old combs should be removed from the hive. It is a great mistake, however, to imagine that the brood-combs ought to be changed every year. If it were desirable, this might easily be done in my hives; but to remove them offener than once in five or six years, requires a needless consumption of honey to replace them, and injures the bees in Winter, as the new comb is much colder than the old.
Inventors of hives have too often been " men of one idea:" and that one, instead of being a well established and important fact in the physiology of the bee; has frequently (like the necessity for a yearly change of the brood-combs), been merely a conceit of some visionary projector. This might be harmless enough, were no effort made to impose such erudities upon an ignorant public, either in the shape of a patented hive, or worse still, of an unpatented_ hive, the pretended _right_ to use which is _frauchulently_ sold to the cheated purchaser.*
Apiarians, unaware of the brevity of the bee's life, have often constructed huge "bee-palences" and large closets, vainly imagining that the bees would fill them, being unable to see any reason why a colony should not increase until it numbers its inhabitants by millions or billions. But as the bees can never at one time equal, still less exceed, the number which the queen is capable of producing in a season, these spacious dwellings have always an abundance of spare rooms. It seems strange that men can be thus deceived, when often in their own Apiracy they have healthy stocks, which, though they have not swarmed for a year or more, are no more populous in the Spring, than those which have regularly parted with vigorous colonies.
It is certain that the Creator has wisely set a limit to the increase of numbers in a single colony ; and I shall venture to assign a reason for this. Suppose he had given to the bee a length of life as great as that of the horse or the cow, or had made each queen capable of laying daily some hundreds of thousands of eggs ; or had given several hundred queens to each hive ; then a colony must have gone on increasing, until it became a scourge rather than a benefit to man. In the warm climates of which the bee is a native, it would have established itself in some cavern or capacious cleft in the rocks, and would soon have become so powerful as to bid defiance to all attempts to appropriate the avails of its labors.
It has already been stated that none, except the mother-wasps and hornets, survive the Winter. Had these insects, like the bee, been able to commence the season with the accumulated strength of a large colony, they would, long before its close, have proved an intolerable nuisance. If, on the contrary, the queen-bee had been compelled, solitary and alone, to lay the foundations of a new commonwealth, the honey-harvest would have disappeared long before she could become the parent of a numerous family.
The process of rearing Queen-Bees will now be more particularly described. Early in the season, if a hive becomes very populous, the bees usually make preparations for swarming. A number of royal cells are begun, being commonly constructed upon those edges of the combs (Pl. XIV., \(a,b,c,d\)), which are not attached to the sides of the hive. These cells somewhat resemble a small pea nut (Pl. XIII., Figs. 49, 50), and are about an inch deep, and one-third of aa inch in diameter : being very thick, they require much wax for their construction. They are seldom seen in a perfect state after the swarming season, as the bees, after the queen has hatched, eut them down to the shape of a small acorn-cup. (Pl. XIV., c.) These queen-cells, while in progress, receive a very unusual amount of attention from the workers. There is scarcely a second in which a bee is not peeping into them ; and as fast as one is satisfied, another pops in her head to report progress, or increase the supply of royal jelly. Their importance to the community might easily be inferred from their being the center of so much attraction.
While the other cells open sideways, the queen-cells always hang with their mouth _doewneeds_. Some Apiralians think that this peculiar position affects, in some way, the development of the royal larvae ; while others, having ascertained that they are uninjured if placed in any other position, consider this deviation as among the inscrutable mysteries of the bee-hive. So it seemed to me, until convinced, by more careful observation, that they open downwards simply _to save room_. The distance between the parallel ranges of comb in the hive is usually too small for the royal cells to open sideways, without interfering with the opposite cells. To economize space, the bees put them on the unoccupied edges of the comb, where there is plenty of room for such very large cells.
The number of royal cells in a hive varies greatly ; sometimes there are only two or three, ordinarily not less than five ; and occasionally, more than a dozen. As it is not intended that the young queens should all be of the same age, the royal cells are not all begun at the same time. It is not fully settled how the eggs are deposited in these cells. In some few instances, I have thought that the bees transferred the eggs from common to queen-cells ; and this may be their general method of procedure. I shall hazard the conjecture, that, in a crowded state of the hive, the queen depeits her eggs in cells on the edges of the comb, some of which are afterwards changed by the workers into royal cells. Such is a queen's instinctive hatted to her own kind, that it seems improbable that she should be intrusted with even the initiatory steps for securing a race of successors.
The young queens are much more largely supplied with food than the other larva ; so that they seem to lie in a thick bed of jelly, a portion of which may usually be found at the base of their cells, soon after they have hatched. Unlike the food of the other larvae, it has a slightly acid taste ; and when fresh, resembles starch ; when old, a light quince jelly. The bees, if confined to their hive and supplied with water, can secrete it from the honey and bee-bread stored in their combs.
I submitted some royal jelly to Dr. Charles M. Wethercl, of Philadelphia; an interesting account of his analysis may be found in the Report of the Proceedings of the Philadelphia Academy of Natural Sciences for July, 1852. IIe speaks of the substance as being a " truly bread-containing, albuminous compound." A comparison of its elements with the food of the drone and worker-larvae, might throw some light on subjects now involved in obscurity.
The effects produced upon the royal larvae by their peculiar treatment are so wonderful, that they have usually been rejected as idle whims, by those who have neither been eye-witnesses to them, nor acquainted with the opportunities enjoyed by others for accurate observation. They are not only contrary to all common analogies, but so marvellously strange and improbable, that many when asked to believe them, feel that an insult is offered to their common sense. The most important of these effects I shall briefly enumerate.
1st. The peculiar mode in which the worm designed for a queen is treated, causes it to arrive at maturity almost one-third earlier than if it had been reared a worker. And yet, as it is to be much more fully developed, according to ordinary anaiogy, it should have had a slower growth.
2d. Its organs of reproduction are completely developed, so that it can fulfill the office of a mother.
3d. Its size, shape, and color are greatly changed; its lower jaws are shorter, its head rounder, and its abdomen without the receptacles for secreting wax; its legs have neither brushes nor baskets, and its sting is more curved, and one-third longer (Pl, XVIII.) than that of a worker.
4th. Its instinets are entirely changed. Reared as a worker, it would have thrust out its sting at the least provocation; whereas now, it may be pulled linuh from limb without attempting to sting. As a worker, it would have treated a queen with the greatest consideration; but now, if brought in contact with another queen, it seeks to destroy it as a rival. As a worker, it would frequently have left the hive, either for labor or exercise; as a queen, it never leaves it after impregnation, except to accompany a new swarm.
5th. The term of its life is remarkably lengthened. As a worker, it would not have lived more than six or seven months; as a queen, it may live several other eight times as long. All these wonders rest on the/infpressable basis of demonstration, and instead of being witnessed only by a select few, may now, by the use of the movable-eoml hive, be familiar sights to any bee-keeper who prefers an acquaintance with facts, to caviling and sneering at the labors of others.*The process of rearing queens to meet some special emergency, is even more wonderful than the one already described. If the bees have worker-eggs, or worms not more than three days old, they make one large cell out of three, by nibbling away the partitions of two cells adjoining a third. Destroying the eggs or worms in two of these cells, they place before the oceupant of the other, the usual food of the young queens; and by enlarging its cell, give it ample space for development. As a security against failure, they usually start a number of queen-cells, although often the work on all, except a few, is soon discontinued.
In from eleven to fourteen days, they are in possession of a new queen, in all respects resembling one reared in the natural way; while the eggs in the adjoining cells, which have been developed as workers, are nearly a week longer in coming to maturity.
The beautiful representation of comb, in Plate XVIII, is taken, with important alterations and additions of my own, from Cotton's "My Bee-Book," to which I am also indebted for the group of bees in the title-page. The royal cell (\(b\)), is a perfect queen-cell, from which the innate has not yet emerged. The queen-cell (\(a\)), represents the cap or lid as it often appears just after the young queen has hatched. The queen-cell (\(d\)), which is open at the side, is one from which a young queen has been violently abstracted; the other (\(c\)), is one which the bees have nearly reduced to the acorn shape. It also resemholes one only a few days old. On the face of the comb is a cell (\(n\)), just begun for the artificial rearing of a queen, this being the usual position of cells built to meet some unexpected emergency. To bring the points illustrated into a compact compass, the cells are drawn smaller than the natural size.
I shall give, in this connection, a description of an interesting experiment.
A populous stock was removed, in the morning, to a new place, and an empty hive put upon its stand. Thousands of workers which were ranging the fields, or which left the old hive after its removal, returned to the familiar spot. It was truly affecting to witness their grief and despair; they fle in restless circles about the place where once stood their happy home, entering the empty hive continually, and expressing, in various ways, their lamentations over so cruel a bereavement. Towards evening, ceasing to take wing, they roamed in restless platoons, in and out of the hive, and over its surface, as if in search of some lost treasure. A small piece of brood-comb was then given to them, containing worker-eggs and worms. The effect produced by its introduction took place much quicker than can be described. Those which first touched it raised a peculiar note, and in a moment, the comb was covered with a dense mass of bees; as they recognized, in this small piece of comb, the means of deliverance, despair gave place to hope, their restless motions and mournful voices ceased, and a cheerful hum proclaimed their delight. If some one should enter a building filled with thousands of persons tearing their hair, beating their breasts, and by piteous cries, as well as frantic gestures, giving vent to their despair, and could by a single word cause all these demonstrations of agony to give place to smiles and congratulations, the
Figure 20: Plate VII.
being taken from them, and the bees supplied with honey and water, new combs were again constructed. Seven times in succession their combs were removed, and were in each instance replaced, the bees being all the time prevented from ranging the fields to supply themselves with bee-bread. By subsequent experiments, he proved that sugar-syrup answered the same end with honey. Giving an imprisoned swarm an abundance of fruit and bee-bread, he found that they subsisted on the fruit, but refused to touch the pollen; and that no combs were constructed, nor any wax-scales formed in their pouches.
Notwithstanding Haber's extreme caution and unwarried patience in conducting these experiments, he did not discover the whole truth on this important subject. Though he demonstrated that bees can construct comb from honey or sugar, without the aid of bee-bread, and that they cannot make it from bee-bread, without honey or sugar, he did not prove that when _permanently_ deprived of bee-bread they can continue to work in wax, or if they can, that the pollen does not aid in its elaboration.
Some bee-bread is always found in the stomach of wax-producing workers, and they never build comb so rapidly as when they have free access to this article. It must, therefore, either furnish some of the elements of wax, or in some way assist the bee in producing it. Further investigations are necessary, before we can arrive at perfectly accurate results. Confident assertions are easily made, requiring only a little breath, or a few drops of ink; and those who like them best have often the profoundest content for observation and experiment. To establish any controverted truth on the solid foundation of demonstrated facts, usually requires severe and protracted labor. Honey and sugar contain by weight about eight pounds of oxygen to one of carbon and hydrogen. When con verted into wax, these proportions are remarkably changed, the wax containing only one pound of oxygen to more than sixteen of hydrogen and carbon. Now as oxygen is the grand supporter of animal heat, the large quantity consumed in secreting wax aids in generating that extraordinary heat which always accompanies comb-building, and which enables the bees to mould the softened wax into such exquisitely delicate and beautiful forms.6 This interesting instance of adaptation, so clearly pointing to the Divine Wisdom, seems to have escaped the notice of previous writers.
Careful experiments prove that from thirteen to twenty pounds of honey are required to make a single pound of wax. As wax is an animal oil, secreted chiefly from honey, this fact will not appear incredible to those who are aware how many pounds of corn or hay must be fed to cattle to have them gain a single pound of fat.
Many bee-keepers are unaware of the value of empty comb. Suppose honey to be worth only fifteen cents per pound, and comb, when rendered into wax, to be worth thirty cents, the Apiarian who melts a pound of comb loses largely by the operation, even without estimating the time his bees have consumed in building it. It should, therefore, be considered a first principle in bee-culture never to melt good combs. A strong stock of bees, in the height of the honey-harvest, will fill them with very great rapidity.
Unfortunately, in the ordinary hives but little use can be made of empty comb, unless it is new, and can be put into the surplus honey-boxes; but by the use of bars, or movable frames, every good piece of worker-comb may be given to the bees.
When new, it may be easily attached to frames, or spare honey-receptacles, by dipping the edge into melted wax, and firmly holding it in place until it hardens; if it is old, or the pieces large and full of bee-bread, a mixture of melted wax and resin will secure a firmer adhesion. When comb is put into tumblers, or small receptacles, it may be simply crowded in, so as to keep its place until fastened by the bees. As bees like " a good start in life," they prefer receptacles which contain some empty comb. All suitable drone-comb should be put into such receptacles, instead of being allowed to remain in the breeding apartment of the hive.
No one, to my knowledge, has ever attempted to imitate the delicate mechanism of the bee so closely, as to construct _artificial combs_ for the ordinary uses of the hive. If store-combs could be made of gutta-perchn, they might be emptied of their contents, and returned to the hive.
In the Summer of 1854, I ascertained that bees will, under some circumstances, use fine shavings of wax to build new comb. If this discovery can be made serviceable for practical purposes, it will both facilitate the cheap and rapid multiplication of colonies, and enable the bees to amass unusual quantities of honey. One pound of bees-wax might be made to store nearly twenty pounds of honey; and the bee-keeper would gain the difference in value between one pound of wax, and the honey which bees consume. in making a pound of comb. At times when no honey can be procured from the blososoms, strong stocks might be profitably employed in building spare comb, to strengthen feeble stocks, or for any other pur poso.
The building of comb is usually carried on with the greatest activity by night, while the honey is gathered by Figure 21: Plate VIII.
day.* Thus no time is lost. When the weather is too forbidding for out-door work, the combs are most rapidly constructed, the labor being vigorously carried on both by day and by night. On the return of a fair day, the bees, having plenty of room for its storage, gather unusual supplies. Thus, by their wise economy, they often lose no time, even if confined for several days to their hive.
"How both the little busy bee improve each shinding hour!"
The poet might, with equal truth, have described her as improving the gloomy days and dark nights in her useful labors.
It is an interesting fact, which seems hitherto to have escaped notice, that honey-gathering and comb-building go on simultaneously ; so that when one stops, the other ceases also. As soon as the honey-harvest begins to fail, so that consumption is in advance of production, the bees cease to build new comb, even although large portions of their hive are unfilled. When honey no longer abounds in the fields, it is wisely ordered that they should not consume, in comb-building, the treasures which may be needed for Winter use. What safer rule could have been given them?
As wax is a bad conductor, it can be more easily worked when warmed by the animal heat of the bees, than if it parted with its heat too readily. By this property, the combs aid in keeping the bees warm, and there is less risk of their craeking with frost, or of the honey candying in the cells. If wax were a good conductor of heat, the combs would often be icy cold, moisture would condense and freeze upon them, and they could not fulfill all their required ends.
The size of the cells in which workers are reared never varies; the same may substantially be said of the drone-cells, which are much larger; those in which honey is stored vary greatly in depth, while in diameter they are of all sizes, from that of worker to that of drone-cells. As five worker, or four drone-cells, will measure about one linear inch, a square inch of comb will contain, on each side, twenty-five worker, or sixteen drone-cells.
As bees in building their cells, cannot pass immediately from one size to another, they display an admirable sagacity in making the transition by a set of irregular intermediate cells. Plate XV. (Fig. 48), exhibits an accurate and beautiful representation of comb, drawn for this work from nature, by M. M. Tidd, and engraved by D. T. Smith, both of Boston, Mass. The cells are of the size of nature. The large ones are drone-cells, and the small ones, worker-cells. The irregular, five-sided cells between them, show how bees pass from one size to another.
The cells of bees are found to fulfill perfectly the most subtle conditions of an intricate mathematical problem. Let it be required to find what shape a given quantity of matter must take, in order to have the greatest _capacity_ and _strength_, occupying, at the same time, the least _space_, and consuming the least _labor_ in its construction. When this problem is solved by the most refined mathematical processes, the answer is the hexagonal or six-sided cell of the honey-bee, with its three four-sided figures at the base1
The shape of these figures cannot be altered ever so little, except for the worse. In addition to the desirable qualities already enumerated, they serve as nurseries for rearing the young, and as small air-tight vessels for preserving the honey from souring or candying. Every prudent housewife who carefully stores her preserves in
did mind, the smallest piece of honey-comb is a perfect demonstration that there is a "Great First Cause."
"On books deep pering, ye pale sons of toll,
Who waste in stadious trace the midnight oil,
Draw or from Greelian or from Gothic schools,
This artless frame!
Instinet her simple guide,
Not all you marshall'd orbs, that ride so high,
Proclaim more load a present Deity,
Where on each angle genuine science dwells."
Trms substance is obtained by the bees from the resinous buds and limbs of trees : the different varieties of poplar yield a rich supply. When first gathered, it is usually of a bright golden color, and so adhesive that the bees never deposit it in cells, but apply it at once to the purposes for which they procured it. If a bee is caught while bringing in a load, it will be found to adhere very firmly to her legs.
"Haber planted in Spring some branches of the wild poplar, before the leaves were developed, and placed them in pots near his Apiary ; the bees alighted on them, separated the folds of the large buds with their force, extracted the varnish in threads, and loaded with it, first one thigh and then the other; for they convey it like pollen, transferring it by the first pair of legs to the second, by which it is lodged in the hollow of the third." I have seen them thus remove the warm propolis from old bottom-boards standing in the sun.