THE BEE. 



805 



their last transformation. When their cell is 

 thus prepared, the animal is soon after trans- 

 formed into an aurelia; but differing from 

 that of the common caterpillar, as it exhibits 

 not only the legs, but the wings of the future 

 bee, in its present state of inactivity. Thus, 

 in about twenty or one and twenty days after 

 the egg was laid, the bee is completely form- 

 ed, and fitted to undergo the fatigues of its 

 state. When all its parts have acquired their 

 proper strength and consistence, the young 

 animal opens its prison, by piercing with its 

 teeth the waxen door that confines it. When 

 just freed from its cell, it is as yet moist, and 

 incommoded with the spoils of its former 

 situation : but the olficious bees are soon 

 seen to flock round it, and to lick it clean on 

 all sides with their trunks ; while another 

 band, with equal assiduity, are observed to 

 feed it with honey: others again begin imme- 

 diately to cleanse the cell that has been just 

 left; to carry the ordure out of the hive, and 

 to fit the place for a new inhabitant. The 

 young bee soon repays their care by its in- 

 dustry; for as soon as ever its external parts 

 become dry, it discovers its natural appetites 

 for labour, and industriously begins the task, 

 which it pursues unremittingly through life. 

 The toil of man is irksome to him, and he 

 earns his subsistence with pain; but this lit- 

 tle animal seems happy in its pursuits, and 

 finds delight in all its employments. 



When just freed from the cell, and proper- 

 ly equipped by its fellow-bees for duty, it at 

 once issues from the hive, and, instructed 

 only by nature, goes in quest of flowers, 

 chooses only those that yield it a supply, re- 

 jects such as are barren of honey, or have 

 been already drained by other adventurers; 

 and when loaded, is never at a loss to find its 

 way back to the common habitation. After 

 this first sally, it begins to gather the mealy 

 powder that lies on every flower, which is 

 aft M-wards converted into wax; and with 

 this, the very first day, it returns with two 

 large balls stuck to its thighs. 



When bees first begin to break their pri- 

 sons, there are generally above a hundred 

 excluded in one day. Thus, in the space of 

 a few weeks, the number of the inhabitants 

 in one hive, of moderate size, becomes so 

 great, that there is no place to contain the 



new comers ; and they are scarcely excluded 

 from the cell, when they are obliged, by the 

 old bees, to sally forth in quest of new habi- 

 tations. In other words, the hive begins to 

 swarm, and the new progeny prepares for exile. 



While there is room enough in the hive, 

 the bees remain quietly together; it is neces- 

 sity alone that compels the separation. 

 Sometimes, indeed, the young brood, with 

 graceless obstinacy, refuse to depart, and 

 even venture to resist their progenitors. The 

 young ones are known by being browner 

 than the old, with whiter hair, the old ones 

 are of a lighter colour, with red hair. The two 

 armies are therefore easily distinguishable, 

 and dreadful battles are often seen to ensue. 

 But the victory almost ever terminates with 

 strict political justice in favour of the veterans, 

 and the rebellious offspring are driven off, not 

 without loss and mutilation. 



In different countries, the swarms make 

 their appearance at different times of the 

 year, and there are several signs previous to 

 this intended migration. The night before, 

 an unusual buzzing is heard in the hive; in 

 the morning, though the weather be soft and 

 inviting, they seem not to obey the call, being 

 intent on more important meditations within. 

 All labour is discontinued in the hive; every 

 bee is either employed in forcing, or reluc- 

 tantly yielding, a submission; at length, after 

 some noise and tumult, a queen-bee is chosen 

 to guard rather than conduct the young 

 colony to other habitations, and then they 

 are marshalled without any apparent con- 

 ductor. In less than a minute they leave 

 (heir native abode, and forming a cloud round 

 their protectress, they set off, without seem- 

 ing to know the place of their destination; 

 the world before them, inhere to choose their place 

 of rest. The usual time of swarming is from 

 ten in the morning to three in the afternoon, 

 when the sun shines bright, and invites them 

 to seek their fortunes. They flutter for a 

 while in the air, like flakes of snow, and 

 sometimes undertake a distant journey, but 

 more frequently are contented with some 

 neighbouring asylum; the branch of a tree, 

 a chimney-top, or some other exposed situa- 

 tion. It is, indeed, remarkable, that all those 

 animals, of whatever kind, that have long 

 been under the protection of man, seem to 



