BEE-spoke-data/bees-v0 huggingface dataset:
It is not more difficult to lodge a natural swarm in a leaf hive than in any other of a different shape. However there is a precaution essential to success which I must not omit. Though bees are indifferent to the position of their combs and their greater or less size, they are obliged to construct them perpendicular to the horizon and parallel. Therefore, if they were left entirely to themselves, in establishing them in one of my new hives, they would often construct several small combs, parallel to each other indeed, but perpendicular to the plane of the frames or _leaves:_ at other times they would fasten them on the joint of two of these frames, and by this disposition nullify the advantages that I claim to derive from the shape of my hives, since they could not be opened at will, without cutting the combs. We must therefore lay out the direction upon which they must build them; the cultivator himself must place the foundations of their edifice, and the method is very simple; it is sufficient that a portion of comb be fastened securely in the upper part of a few of the frames of which a hive is composed: you may be assured that the bees will lengthen this comb, and in prosecution of their work will follow precisely the direction indicated. Therefore you will never have any obstacle to overcome in opening the hive; no stings to dread, for that is also one of the singular and
### 10.3 New Observations upon bees.
Supposing the concurrence of all these conditions, the following is the process to be pursued. Separate the leaf hive through the middle, without any jar. Between the two halves insert two empty leaves, fitting exactly against the others, each of them closed with a box partition on the side where they fit against each other. You will then seek which of the two halves contains the reigning queen and mark it, to avoid error. If by chance she remains in the division having the most brood, she is to be transferred into the one having less, in order to give the bees the greater chances of procuring another female. The two halves must now be connected with one another by a small cord tightly drawn around them, and care must be taken that they occupy the same stand in the apiary as before the operation. The opening which served as entrance, up to this time, now becomes useless, it must be closed; but as each half hive must have an entrance, and as they must be as far apart as possible, a new opening must be made at the bottom of each of the outside frames, that is to say, the 1st and the 12th (see Plate I). However these entrances must not be both opened on the same day: the bees that are deprived of queen must be confined in their half for 24 hours, and the door must be opened only enough to admit of the access of air. Without this precaution, they would soon emerge to seek their queen in the apiary and would not fail to find her in the other division, they would enter it in great numbers, until too few remained to perform the necessary labors: while this accident will not ensue, if they be confined for 24 hours, since that interval of time is sufficient to make them forget their queen.
When all the circumstances are favorable, the bees of the division which is deprived of queen will begin on the same day their labor to procure another, and their loss will be repaired 10 or 15 days after the operation. The young female they have reared soon afterwards issues to seek males, returns home fertilized and at the end of two days commences the laying of worker eggs. Nothing more is wanting to the bees of this half-hive and the success of the artificial swarm is assured.
It is to Mr. Schirach that we are indebted for this ingenious method of forming swarms. In the description which he gives, he holds that, by producing young queens, in the early days of spring, precoculous swarms might be procured, which certainly would be advantageous in several circumstances: but unfortunately this is impossible: this observer believed that queens were fertile of themselves; consequently he imagined that, after they were artificially produced, they would lay and give birth to a numerous posterity. But this is an error; the females require the concourse of the males to become fertile, and if they do not find any within a few days after their birth, their laying, as I have proved, is completely disarranged. Therefore if we made an artificial swarm before the usual time when the males are born, the young female would discourage the bees through her sterility or, should they remain faithful to her, awaiting the time of her recundation, as she could not receive the approaches of the male before 3 or 4 weeks, she would lay eggs producing drones only, and the hive would equally perish. Thus the natural order must not be disarranged; but on the contrary, we must wait, to divide the hives, until they contain drones born or near birth.
frames between the old combs, one between the first and the second, one between the third and the fourth, and the last between the fifth and sixth. The bees will need 7 or 8 days to fill them and the hive will then contain 9 combs. Should the weather continue with favorable temperature, one may introduce 3 more new frames, consequently in 2 or 3 weeks the bees will have been forced to construct 6 new combs. The operation might be still further extended in warm climates, where the country presents perpetual bloom; but in our country I have reason to believe that the labor should not be forced farther during the first year.
From these details, you perceive, Sir, how preferable the leaf hives are to hives of any other form, and even to the ingenious ekes (or stories. Tr) of which Mr. Palteau gave a description, for, by means of the latter, the bees cannot be compelled to work more in wax than they would if left to themselves; whereas they are obliged to do it by the alternating of empty frames. Secondly when they have constructed combs in these stories, they cannot be removed without deranging the bees, destroying considerable portions of the brood and in a word, without causing real disorder in the hive.
Besides, mine have this advantage, that one may daily observe what passes, and judge of the most convenient moment to take from them a part of their crop. When we have all the combs before us, we distinguish easily those that contain only brood, which we must preserve. We see how abundant the provisions are and what share of them we may take away.
I should too greatly lengthen this letter, were I to give you an account of all my observations of the time proper for inspecting hives, on the rules to be followed in the different seasons, and on the proportion to be observed in despoiling the bees of their wealth. It would require a separate work to develop the divers details: I may some day engage in it. Meanwhile I shall be always disposed to communicate my method to the cultivators who may wish to follow it, and the directions of which a long practice has shown me the utility.
I shall add only that we run risk of absolute ruin for the hives, when we take from them too great a proportion of honey and wax. In my opinion, the art of cultivating these insects consists in moderately using the right of sharing their crops, but to compensate this moderation every means must be employed to promote the multiplication of bees. Thus, for example, if we wish to procure, each year, a certain quantity of honey and wax, it will be better to seek it in a greater number of hives, managed with discretion, than to plunder a few of a great proportion of their treasures.
It is certain that we injure greatly the multiplication of these industrious insects, when we rob them of several combs in a season unfavorable to the collection of wax (Note), for the time occupied in replacing them is taken from that which should be consecrated to the care of the eggs and worms, and so the brood suffers. Besides, we must always leave them a sufficient provision of honey for winter; for although they consume less
(Note--Evidently Huber had not yet ascertained the origin of beeswax when he wrote this. His experiments upon the production of wax are given farther. Translator.)during that season, they do consume, because they are not torpid, as some authors have asserted. Therefore, if they have not enough honey, they must be supplied with some; this requires a very exact measure.18
I admit that, in determining to what extent hives may be multiplied in a certain district, we should learn first how many this district can support, and this is a problem still unsolved: it depends on another problem the solution of which is not any better known, the determination of the greatest distance that bees ramble from their hives to gather their harvest. Different authors assert that they may wander several leagues from their home; but from the few observations that I have made, I believe this distance much exaggerated. It appeared to me that the radius of the circle they traverse does not exceed half a league (about 1% miles). Since they return to their hive with the greatest speed, when a cloud passes before the sun, it is probable that they do not go very far. Nature, which has inspired them with such terror for a storm and even for rain, evidently does not permit them to stray at distances which expose them too long to the injuries of the weather. I endeavored to ascertain this more positively,
18 They are so far from being torpid during the winter, that when the thermometer in the open air drops several degrees below zero (R6aumur), it stills stands at 24* to 35* (86* to 88* F.) in hives sufficiently populous. The bees then cluster together and move to preserve their heat.
Swammerdam was of the same oponion, and I will quote him: "The heat of a hive is so considerable, even in the middle of winter, that the honey does not crystallize or assume a granulated consistency, unless the bees be in too small numbers; moreover when their queens are very fertile, they feed their young with honey, even in the middle of winter, caring for them, warming them and warming each other as well. I do not know whether there are any other insects that have this in common with bees, for hornets, wasps and bubble bees, as well as flies and butterflies, remain torpid during the whole winter, without stirring or changing place."
Mr. de R6aumur found brood of all ages, in several hives, in January. The same thing happened to me, when the thermometer in them stood around 27* (93* F.).
Since I am speaking of thermometric observations, made upon the hives, I shall cursorify remark that Mr. Dubost, of Bourg-en-Bresse, in a memoir otherwise worthy, asserts that worms cannot hatch below 32* R (104* F). I have repeatedly made the experiment with very accurate thermometers and obtained a very different result. This degree is so little suitable that when the thermometer points to it, in the hive, the heat becomes intolerable to the bees, and they leave. I presume that Mr. Dubost was deceived by introducing his thermometer too suddenly in a cluster of bees, and the agitation caused among them, by this operation, forced the thermometer higher than it should naturally go. Had he kept it there a few moments, he would have seen it fall back to the 28th or 29th (95* to 97* F), for that is the ordinary temperature of hives in summer. In August this year, we saw the thermometer, in the open air stand at 27%* (94* F) while at the same moment, in the most populous hives, it did not rise above the 30th* (99* F). The bees had little motion and a great number of them rested on the supports of the apiary.
by transporting to various distances from the aplary, and in all sorts of directions, bees with the corslet painted, that we might recognize them on their return. None ever returned which had been carried 25 or 30 minutes from their domicile, while those transported a less distance readily found their way back. I do not report this experiment, Sir, as decisive. Though in ordinary conditions, bees do not fly above half a league, it is quite possible that they go much farther when the vicinity of their homes does not provide them with any flowers. For a conclusive experiment on this subject, it would be necessary to make it in vast arid or sandy plains, separated by a known distance from a blooming country.
Thus, this question appears undecided; but without pronouncing on the number of hives that a district can maintain, I shall remark that certain kinds of vegetable productions are much more favorable than others to bees. For example, more hives may be kept in a country where buckwheat is cultivated, than in a district of vineyards or wheat.
Here, Sir, I terminate the account of my observations on bees. Though I had the good fortune to make some interesting discoveries, I am far from considering my labor finished; there are still several problems to solve on the history of these insects. The experiments which I project may throw some light on them. I shall have much greater hopes of success, if you, Sir, will continue to give me your advice and directions. Accept the homage of my respect and my gratitude.
FRANCIS HUBER.
End of the First Volume.
## Volume II.
New Observations Upon Bees.
**PERFACE.**
Twenty years have elapsed since the publication of the first volume of this work; however, I have not remained idle. But before bringing to light new observations, I wanted time to verify the truths which I believe I established. I had hoped that better trained naturalists would desire to ascertain for themselves the correctness of the results obtained by me, and I thought that, by repeating my experiments, they might ascertain facts which escaped my notice. But no other attempt has since then been made to penetrate farther into the history of those insects, and yet it is far from exhausted.
Although I was deceived in this expectation, I flatter myself with having obtained the confidence of my readers, my observations appear to have given light on several phenomena that had not yet been explained; the authors of several works upon the economy of bees have commented upon them; most of the cultivators have adopted entirely, as the basis of their practice, the principles which I discovered; and the naturalists themselves have taken interest in my efforts to pierce the double well which shrouds, for me (Huber here alludes evidently to the fact that he was blind, Tr.), the natural sciences. Their assent should have emboldened me sooner to edit the facts contained in this second volume, had not the loss of several persons dear to me disturbed the quletude which such occupations require.
The profound, indulgent and amiable philosopher, whose benevolence encouraged me to come forward, in spite of the disadvantages of my position, Mr. Charles Bonnet, died, and discouragement took possession of me. Sciences lost, in losing him, one of the genil sent from heaven to make science lovable; who, by linking them with the most natural sentiments of man, and by giving to each the rank and degree of interest due to it, bound the heart as well as the mind, and charmed our imagination without misleading it through delusions.
I found, in the friendship and the enlightenment of Mr. Senebler, some relief for the privations imposed upon me. A continued correspondence with this great physiologist, while enlightening me upon the course to follow, revived my existence in some manner; but his death surrendered me to fresh sorrows. Lastly, I was also to be deprived of the use of those eyes which had taken the place of my own, of the skill and devotedness which I had had at my bidding during 15 years. Burnens, the faithful observer, whose services I will always gladly recall, was called back into the bosomof his own people and, being appreciated as he deserved to be, he became one of the first magistrates of a considerable district.
This last separation which was not the least painful one, since it deprived me of the means of diverting my mind from those which I had already suffered, was nevertheless softened by the satisfaction which I found in observing nature through the organs of the being who is the dearest to me, and with whom I could enter into more elevated considerations. (Huber's wife. Translator.)
But that which most especially connected me again with natural history, was the taste that my son manifested for this study. I communicated my observations to him: he expressed sorrow in leaving, buried in a notebook, work that would seem likely to interest naturalists: he noticed the concealed reluctance which I felt in classifying the materials gathered, and offered to edit them himself. I accepted his offer; the reader will not be astonished therefore, if this work is found to differ in its two component parts. The first volume contains my correspondence with Mr. Bonnet; the second presents a set of Memoirs: in the one, we had limited ourselves to the simple expose of facts; in the other the point was to describe difficult matters, and in order to diminish the dullness, we have sometimes freely made such comments as the subject suggested. Moreover, when giving my notes to my son, I also transmitted my ideas to him; we have blended our thoughts and our opinions; I felt the need of giving him' possession of a subject in which I had acquired some experience.
This new book treats of the work, properly speaking, of the bees, or of their architecture, their respiration and their senses. The Memoirs which I caused to be inserted in periodical magazines, such as that on the origin of the wax and on the sphinx atropos, have been established in their proper place; they both have undergone a few changes and the latter has been enriched with additional experiments. Lastly I am publishing upon the sex of worker-bees (a long debated question) a Memoir which, I trust, will no longer leave any doubt concerning Schirach's discovery.
I might have added several observations to those which I now give to the public; but they do not present a sufficient ensemble, and I prefer to wait until they may be accompanied with facts concerning them.
FOREWORD OF THE PUBLISHER.
The Observations which I publish in the name of my father long exercised his patience and that of Burnens. It was not sufficient to follow with exactness the maneuvers of the bees, it was also requisite to perceive their connection, and understand the aim to which they pointed.
Another and perhaps a greater difficulty was to clearly see complicated, forms and secure a distinct idea of their combination. Models of clay, made with great skill, supplied that which speech could not explain.
In this way, my father secured, from the accounts given by Burnens, a fairly complete theory of the architecture of bees.
He conceived no doubts of the correctness of his observations, but in order to obtain new ideas, or the confirmation of facts already understood, he desired that I should revise them myself before they were published.
Therefore I procured hives similar to those that he had used, and it was with great enjoyment that I witnessed, in my turn, all the points of this astonishing industry; it was with equal pleasure that I was enabled to agree with the conscientious exactness of the observer in whom my father had placed his confidence, and I can add only a small number of details to those already recorded.
## INTRODUCTION.
No people, perhaps no nation has had as many historians as these republics of laborious insects, whose industry seems to be intended for us. There are periodical works solely relative to the culture of bees; associations have been founded, the object of which is to discuss the advantages of such or such method; the centuries have accumulated observations; but in spite of the progress of sciences, we are still ignorant concerning the constituents of beeswax; it is true that most of the authors to whom we are indebted for those numerous writings, gave us their uncertain opinions as precepts, sometimes their dreams as theories based upon experience; and, piling up the quotations, citing one another, they have contributed to the perpetuation of errors instead of dispelling them. But there are, fortunately, a few respectable authors as to talent and truthfulness, who, overstepping the common limits, sought, like true naturalists, to ascertain the laws which govern those colonies.
The bees have even attracted the attention of geometricians; those of antiquity already understand the purpose of the hexagon prisms of which they build their combs; but it was reserved for modern theories to appreciate the extent of the geometrical problem which those insects solve in the construction of the base of their cells. These bases, built in pyramids, offered, for speculation, one of the greatest philosophical subjects, to those who do not believe that everything may be explained by the supposition of blind necessity. Skilled mathematicians have found that, between all the forms that bees might select in an endless list of pyramids, they preferred that which offered the greatest advantages; for it is not to them, says R&aumur (the writer who knew nature best) "it is not to them that the honor is due, it was ordained by an intelligence which sees the immensity of infinite things, and all their combinations, more clearly and more distinctly than it can be perceived by our modern Archimedes."
But without attributing to the workman the glory of the invention, it must be granted, at least, that the execution of so complicated a plan could not be entrusted to stupid creatures, to gross animal machines. If we can prove, in what follows, that bees may, in certain cases, depart from their routine, that this regularity in their work is subject to exceptions, and that they are able to counterbalance their errors by additions or partial reductions, so that no inconvenience results for the whole: if we prove that there is no irregularity in their work without a purpose, we will appreciate the greatness of their task and the delicacy of their organization.
In order to give a proper idea of the work of bees, let us assume an isolated cell placed with its opening downwards upon a horizontal plane; it thus represents a small six-sided prismatic column, surmounted with a capital in pyramid shape, depressed and obtuse, Plate I, fig. I.
The six faces of the hexagon, which appear at first sight as so many plates of wax, of rectangular shape, are cut at right angles at the orifice; but at the opposite extremity they are cut obliquely; so that their greater edges are not of equal length. Each plane is united to its neighbor by a similar edge, the long edge of the one to the long edge of the other, and its short edge to the short edge of a third; the result is that, if we were to remove the capital, we would notice that the edge of the hexagon tube forms projections and recesses alternately, that is to say, three projecting angles (h, a, r) and three recessive angles (c, i, s) fig. 2.
From the top of the three projecting angles, three edges proceed which meet opposite the center of the cell (am, hm, rm, fig. 1); these divide the base into three parts, and the spaces between them being filled to the edge of the recessive angles, they assume the shape of losanges, or rhombs (achm, fig 1). Small scales of wax fill these spaces, so that each cell is composed of six panes in trapeze shape and three rhombs.
The combs of the bees, as we know, are composed of two rows of cells back to back, not singly however, but in part: each cell resting against three cells of the opposite side (figs. 3 and 4).
To fulfill these conditions, the bees need only to erect, upon the three edges which divide the base of each cell, similar panes to those of the cell itself, and which, joining other plates of similar shape, produce hexagon prisms. This is what we almost always see in the combs of bees: one may test it by piercing with a pin the three rhombs which form the base of a cell. When examing the opposite side of the comb we find that we have pierced the bottom of each of three cells.
In addition to the economy of material which appears to ensue from this position of the cells, we notice a still more positive advantage, that of contributing to the strength of the whole.