BEE-spoke-data/bees-v0 huggingface dataset:
Thus the identity of the two substances was no longer in doubt and we had but to discover the manner in which the bees applied it to use; we desired especially to witness the perfecting of the cells, but it was out of the question to see them work without some lucky expedient. We hoped to follow them more easily in a hive where they would build their combs upwards, because in such a case some of the cells rest against the glass and their cavities are open for the eyes of the observer.
So we peopled a hive so prepared as to fulfill our views. The bees, building upwards, soon reached the glass, but unable to quit their habitation on account of supervening rains, they were three weeks without bringing home any propolisis. Their combs remained perfectly white until the beginning of July, when the atmosphere became more favorable for our observations. Serene weather and a high temperature engaged them to forage; and they returned from the fields laden with this resinous gum resembling a transparent jelly; with the color and lustre of the garnet: it was easily distinguished from the farinaceous pellets then brought home by other bees. The workers bearing propolisis joined the clusters hanging from the ceiling of the hive, we saw them travel through the outside of these clusters; after reaching the supports of the combs, they appeared to rest, sometimes they stopped on the walls, waiting for their companions to relieve them of their burden. We actually saw two or three approach them and carry the propolisis away with their teeth. The upper part of the hive exhibited the most animated spectacle, thither a host of bees resorted from all quarters, the distribution and application of the propolisis being then their predominant occupation; some conveyed between their teeth the material which they had secured from the purveyors and deposited it upon the frames and the supports of the combs; others hastened to spread it out like a varnish before it hardened, or formed it into strings proportioned to the interstices of the walls of the hives to be putted up. Nothing could be more diversified than their operations; but we were most interested in the art which they used in applying propolisis on the inside of the cells. Those which appeared to be charged with this task were easily distinguished from the multitude of workers because their heads were turned towards the horizontal pane. Upon reaching it, they deposited the propolisis in the middle of the interval separating the combs. Then we saw them apply this substance in the real place of its destination; taking advantage of the points of support which its viscosity supplied, they appeared to hang to it with the claws of their posterior legs, seemingly swinging themselves under the pane of glass; the effect of this motion was to carry their body backwards and forward and at each motion we saw the lump of propolisis come nearer to the cells; the bees used their anterior legs to sweep together that which had been detached and to unite these fragments upon the surface of the glass; the latter recovered its transparency when all the propolisis was brought to the mouth of the cells. A few bees entered the cells located against the glass; it was there that I expected to see them at leisure: they brought no propolisis, but they cleaned and polished the cell with their teeth, worked in the angular corners, making them thicker, smoothed the rough edges; while the antennae appeared to feel the way; these organs located in front of their jaws evidently enable them to notice such projecting molecules as must be removed.
coated with propolisols, and kept them in the sun for two summer months. The wax soon lost its yellow color, but this long test in no way altered the color of the propolisols.
Third Experiment.
I took some yellow cells, coated with propolisols upon their orifices and around their edges; I steeped them in nitrous acid, and boiled this solvent for a few minutes: when the nitrous gas began to form, I removed the vial and allowed it to cool. I then saw that the yellow color had disappeared, that the wax was bleached, but the propolis had retained its color; a prolonged test of this kind gave no other result.
Fourth Experiment.
I steeped cells of yellow wax devoid of propolis in ether; the liquid first acquired a slight yellow tint, then it became darker and the wax was entirely discolored. I allowed the ether to evaporate, expecting the coloring substance to remain at the bottom of the capsule, but after evaporation of the liquid I found only the small quantity of white wax which had been dissolved.
Cells of white wax, the orifices and walls of which were coated with propolisols, were steeped in the same solvent. The ether acquired a fine yellow tint which became more and more intense, and no propolisols remained upon the different parts of the cells. I uncorked the vial, and after the ether was evaporated, I found at the bottom a reddish propolis varnish upon which one could notice some of the white wax which the ether had dissolved.
These experiments demonstrate that the substance which colors the wax has no analogy with propolisols. My observations have indicated that this tint is not a property of wax; the new cells are formed of white wax; this tint becomes altered in a short time, and changes to a yellow tint which becomes darker and darker with time; sometimes two or three days are sufficient to turn white combs into yellow. I knew nothing of the cause of this change, and I thought, as other naturalists did, that this alteration might be effected by the heat of the hives, or by the vapors of their atmosphere, or by the emanations of the honey or of the wax, and the presence of these substances in the hives. However, these ideas could not withstand a thorough examination: I had often seen new combs remaining unaltered for several months, although used by the bees in the ordinary way. By comparing the combs of several swarms newly hived, we found some of which one side was white while the other face was of a Jonquil color: we could sometimes find, on the same side of a comb, a space in which the cells were of a lively yellow, while those adjacent had lost none of their whiteness. We could even ascertain the exact limit of this coloration; a single cell having several yellow faces, while others were white, sometimes even one cell was party-colored in white and yellow. This distribution of colors could not be explained through the causes which we suspected of having influence. Honey and pollen would have uniformly tinted all the faces of a cell, up to the height of the liquid or of the coloring substance; the vapors of the hive likewise could have only a general influence upon the color of the combs; but it was necessary
## Chapter 17 The Completion of the Cells.
to ascertain more directly that these things had nothing to do with the observed effect.
It was first necessary to make sure whether cells that were kept from the contact of bees would preserve their whiteness; for this purpose, I used a hive with a division in the middle through which the bees could not pass. In this I enclosed a portion of comb of complete whiteness; it was exposed for a month to heat, moisture and all their atmospheric vapors, without alteration of color from any of those causes. Meanwhile the combs exposed to the contact of the bees yellowed more and more, but this coloring was partial and distributed irregularly, as in a striped manner; everything indicating that it was not due to exposure in the interior of the hives for more or less time, but to some direct action on the part of the bees.
We are not yet sure of the manner in which they give this tint to the combs. We have attributed it to two different maneuvers; first, the bees which appear to be resting upon the combs, or upon the glass or the wood of the hive, rub the tip of their mandibles against the object which they are supposed to varnish, moving their head back and forth; their jaws spread apart and come together successively, after each motion of the head; their front legs repeatedly rub with some speed the surface upon which they stand; the bee which is thus oceupled walks right and left and continues this maneuver for a long time; the wall or the surface of the comb, to which they apply themselves, appears to change color, though we have not ascertained positively that it was in consequence of this work. We have noticed that there is always a little yellow substance in the cavity of the bees' teeth: but was this a substance which they were removing or which they were applying upon the wax? It appeared probable that it was being deposited, though while they rubbed both wood and glass in the same way, the glass did not secure any color, but the wood assumed a very pronounced tint.
The second process that we witnessed was performed with the trunk; this instrument acted like a slim and soft brush; it swept to the right and left the surface of the glass and appeared to leave upon it a few drops of a transparent liquid.
At each change of direction, we could see a bright and silvery liquid, flowing from the middle of the trunk and of the two longest palpi which surround it; this liquid was distributed from the end of the trunk upon the parts of cells for which it was intended; it was also deposited upon the glass, but not so as to varnish it; for the opacity which glass sometimes acquires is not due to this cause; this happens only when the bees spread upon it parcels of wax which have been deposited upon its surface.
We shall not affirm which of these operations is the source of the yellowness of wax, but we incline to refer it to the first, because we often thought the color of certain cells altered, after the bees had rubbed them with their teeth and forelegs.
The bees do not restrict themselves to painting and varnishing the cells; they also give greater solidity to the edifice itself, by means of mortar which they know how to compose for that purpose.
The ancients, who had much studied these insects, knew some of the properties of propolis; they informed us that the bees mixed it with waxin several circumstances; they gave the name of _metis_ or _pissoceron_ to this substance, thus indicating its amalgamation with beeswax.
A test which I made with the propolistis that coats the inside of beehives, indicated to me how well they had studied the subject, and that, although we may often reject their assertions, it would be a mistake to do so without previous examination.
Through my reported experiments, I had learned that ether dissolves propolisis, and that it removes but a small fraction of the wax submitted to its action: so I took some fragments of this mortar from the walls of an old hive and steeped them in ether. Decanting it several times, I concluded that all the propolisis was dissolved, when it ceased to color; the residue remaining in the vial was only the white wax which had been mixed by the bees with the gum-resin.
Pliny believed that these insects used a mixture of wax and propolisis in constructing the braces and bases of the combs. Reaumur, on the contrary, thought it only pure wax. Perhaps the facts that I am about to relate may enable us to reconcile the opinions of these two great naturalists.
Shortly after the bees had finished the new combs, a manifest disorder and apparent agitation prevailed in the hive. The bees appeared directed by a sort of fury against their own combs; the cells of the first row, the structure of which we so greatly admired, were scarcely recognizable; thick and massive walls, heavy and shapeless pillars were substituted for the slight partitions which the bees had previously built with such regularity at the beginning; the substance of them had changed along with the form, being apparently composed of wax and propolisis. From the perseverance of the workers in these devastations, we suspected that they intended some useful alteration in their architecture.
Our attention was drawn to the least damaged cells; some were still untouched, but the bees soon rushed precipitately upon them, destroyed the vertical walls of the cells, broke up the wax and cast aside the fragments. But we noticed that the trapezes of the bases of the first row were untouched; they did not tear down at the same time the corresponding cells on both faces of the comb; they labored alternately upon each of its faces, leaving to it a part of its natural supports, otherwise the combs would have fallen down, which was not their object; they wished, on the contrary, to provide a more solid base, and prevent their fall, by making these joints with a substance the tenacity of which infinitely surpasses that of beeswax.
The propolisis which they used in this occasion had been deposited in a mass over a cleft of the hive, and had hardened in drying, which perhaps rendered it more suitable for the purpose intended than fresh propolisis would have been.
These insects had some difficulty in removing it from the wall, on account of its hardness; we thought that they were impregnating it with the same frothy matter from the tongue, which they used to make wax more ductile, and that this process served to soften and detach it. Mr. de Reaumur had observed something similar in a like occasion.
We distinctly observed these bees mixing fragments of old wax with the propolisis, kneading the two substances together to amalgamate them. They used this in rebuilding the cells that had been destroyed; but they did not
follow the ordinary rules of their architecture; economy was entirely set aside; they were occupied alone with the solidity of their edifice; night intervening prevented us from following their maneuvers, but the following day we were able to judge of the result which confirmed what we have just mentioned.
These observations teach us that there is an epoch in the labor of bees, when the upper braces of their combs are constructed simply of wax, as R&aumur believed, and that after all the requisite conditions have been attained, the base is converted to a mixture of wax and propolisis, as published by Pliny, so many centuries before us. (The change made in the structure of the cells of the first row does not take place at a particular time. It depends perhaps upon several circumstances which are not always together. We sometimes see the bees satisfied by bordering the edges of the upper cells with propolisis without altering their shape and without adding to their thickness.)
This trait in the conduct of the bees explains the apparent contradiction, in the writings of these two naturalists. The first row of cells, built to serve as a base for the subsequent cells, was temporarily established, to carry the edifice, as long as the magazines were not quite full; but those light plates of wax would have been insufficient to sustain a weight of several pounds. The bees appear to anticipate the eventual inconvenience: so they soon destroy the too frail walls of the first row, leaving untouched the trapezes of their bases, and substitute, in the place of these light walls, strong pillars, heavy walls of a viscous and compact substance.
But this is not the utmost extent of their foresight. When they have enough wax, they make their combs of the breadth necessary to reach with their edges the vertical walls of the hive. They know how to solder them against the wood or the glass by structures approaching more or less the shape of cells, as circumstances admit. But if the supply of wax fails before they have been able to give a sufficient diameter to the combs whose edges are still rounded, these combs, being only fastened at the top, leave large voids between their oblique edges and the hive walls; they might break down by the weight of the honey, did not the bees provide against it, by building great pieces of wax, mixed with propolisis, between their edges and the hive walls; these pieces are of irregular form, strangely hollowed out and their cavities are not symmetrical. The following happening, in which the instinct of bees is still better displayed, is a development of their particular art in solidifying their magazines.
During the winter, a comb of my bell-shaped glass hive, not having been sufficiently fastened in the building, fell between the other combs, still retaining its position parallel with the rest: the bees were unable to fill the vacuity between its upper edge and the ceiling, because they do not build combs of old wax* and no new wax could be then obtained. In a more favorable season, they would not have hesitated to graft a new comb upon the old one;
* 6Huber was mistaken in stating that bees do not build combs of old wax; they do not usually do it, but when circumstances of warmth are favorable, they can build quite a large amount of comb from old wax. In this instance it is probable that the conditions were unfavorable. The sentence which follows shows that bees do build combs from old wax. (Translator.)but as their provision of honey could not then be spared to supply the elaboration of this substance, they provided the stability of the comb by another process.
They took wax from the bottom of other combs, and even from their faces by gnawing the orifices of the longest cells; they then gathered together in great numbers on the edges of the fallen comb, between it and the adjoining combs; they constructed there a number of irregular braces, pillars, buttresses, joists, arranged with art and adapted to localities.
They did not confine themselves to repairing this accident in their masonry, they apparently thought of those that might happen and profited by the warning which the fall of one comb had given them, by strengthening the others so as to prevent a second similar event.
The remaining combs had not been displaced, they appeared solid upon their bases, so we were greatly surprised to see the bees strengthen their principal fastenings with old wax, rendering them much thicker than before, and fabricated a number of new braces to unite them more closely together and more strongly to the walls of their home. All this passed in the middle of January, at a time when bees commonly keep themselves in the upper part of their hive, where such work is no longer seasonable.
I may restrain myself from reflections and commentaries, but I acknowledge that I could not suppress a sentiment of admiration for an action in which the brightest foresight was displayed.
## Chapter 71
_On a New Enemy of the Bees._
Among the labors of insects, those that concern the defense of their habitations are perhaps not the least worthy of the attention of man, who is so often called on to provide himself against the enterprises of his enemies. If we compare the measures of security taken by these little animals against aggression, with our own tactics, if we establish a parallel between their policy and ours, we can better appreciate the relative height of their horizon. No other branch of their industry could be used with better success to indicate this gradation than natural protection; an impulse which is common to all species. In such circumstances, nature unfolds the most unexpected resources; in this it leaves the greatest freedom to the beings which it rules; for the chances of war are the object of one of those general laws concurring to the maintenance of universal order; without those alternatives of success and reverse, how could the equilibrium be maintained between the species? One of them would annihilate all those that are inferior to it in strength; nevertheless the most timid have subsisted since the origin of things: their tactics, their industry, their fecundity, or other circumstances peculiar to each kind, enable them to escape the extinction which seems to menace them.
Among the bees, as with the greater number of the hypmenopters, the ordinary means of resistance are those poisoned darts with which they wound their enemies; the fate of war would be in their favor, on account of the greatness of their numbers, were not several of their antagonists still better armed than themselves; if others had not the art of evading their vigilance by surrounding themselves with a tissue that shelters them from their stings, and if there were not others still that profit by the weakness of some ill-peopled hive to gain a surreptitious entrance into it.
Wasps, hornets, moths and mice, have been known from all time by their ravages among hives; and as I have nothing to add to what every one knows on this matter, I shall confine myself to pointing out a new enemy of the bees, whose ravages I have already described in a special memoir (Brit. Lib. No. 213 and 214).
Towards the close of summer after the bees have stored up a part of their crop, we sometimes hear a surprising noise near their habitations; a multitude of workers issue during the night and escape in the air; the tumult frequently continues during several hours, and when we examine the effect of so great an agitation, in the morning, we see numbers of dead bees before the hive: for the most part it contains no more honey and sometimes it is entirely deserted.
In 1804, many of my farmer neighbors came to consult me on an occurrence of this kind; but I could not yet give them any explanations; notwithstanding my long practice concerning bees, I had never seen anything similar.
On visiting the scene, I found the phenomenon still subsisting and that it had been very accurately depicted; but the peasants attributed it to the introduction of bats into the hives, and I disagreed in crediting this supposition. Those flying mammifers are satisfied with seizing nocturnal insects in their flight, which are never wanting in summer. Bats do not eat honey; why therefore should they attack bees in their hive for the purpose of pillaging their stores?
If it was not the bats which attacked the bees, it might be some other animal. Therefore, having put my people in ambush, they soon brought to me, not bats, but sphinx atropos, great moths, better known under the name of _Death's head moths_. These sphinxes flew in great numbers about the hives; one was caught as it was about to enter in one of the least populous; its intention evidently was to penetrate within their home and live at the expense of the bees. From all quarters I learned of similar ravages committed by bats, as supposed. Cultivators who expected a plentiful harvest, found their hives as light as in the first days of spring, though they had recently been noticed well provisioned; at length the gigantic moth, which had caused the desertion of the bees, was surprised in several hives.
Such repeated proofs were required to convince me that a lepidopter, an insect without a sting, without any shield, and deprived of all other means of defense, could contend victoriously against thousands of bees; but these moths were so common during that year that it was easy to be convinced of the fact.
As the enterprises of the sphinx were constantly more disastrous to the bees, we resolved to contract their entrances to prevent the enemy's access. We manufactured a sort of grating, out of tin, the openings of which were only large enough to admit the bees, and we established it at the entrance of the hive; this process was completely successful, quiet was restored and the damage ceased.
The same precautions had not been universally taken; but we perceived that the bees, left to themselves, provided for their own security; without help, they barricaded themselves, by means of a thick wall made of wax and propolisis, fitted behind the entrance of the hive, and sometimes in the entrance itself; it obstructed it entirely, but it was perforated by passages for one or two workers at a time.