July 5, 1906 



American Ttee Journal 



Canadian tf^ 

 6<>&dom 



Conducted by Morley Pettit, Villa Nova, Ont. 



The Bee's Acute Sense of Smell 



(Concluded from page 3S9.) 



This year M. Plateau finally undertook to destroy all 

 objections regarding- the more or less successful artificial 

 reproduction of a natural flower by recourse to an ex- 

 tremely simple idea, which enabled him to conduct similar 

 experiments by a most delicate and precise method. He 

 told himself that the thing that most closely resembled nat- 

 ural flowers was the reflection of those flowers in a plate- 

 glass mirror. Accordingly M. Plateau placed a mirror in 

 front of a bouquet of honey-bearing flowers. If the bees were 

 guided by the sense of sight, they would naturally go as 

 eagerly to the perfect reflection of the flowers as to the 

 flowers themselves. But the bees weren't fooled. Instead 

 of bumping their heads against the mirror, as they do 

 against the window-pane when they want to get out of a 

 room, they flew straight to the flowers themselves, as if the 

 mirror had not existed. 



The general conclusion drawn from M. Plateau's re- 

 searches is identical with that which I formulated 25 years 

 ago ; the insects are guided toward the honey-flowers by a 

 sense quite different from that of sight — a sense that can be 

 nothing but the sense of smell. 



This is not saying that the bees are attracted to flowers 

 by what we call their perfumes, for perfumed flowers are 

 not richly provided with nectar, and fragrant essences seem 

 generally without any noticeable effect upon the bees. It 

 is not the sense of smell as we subjectively conceive it ; it 

 is a special sense, and a particularly subtle one, that enables 

 them to know the whereabouts of the sweets they want. 



Indeed, substances which we can't possibly recognize 

 by their odor are still found by the bees. I have fre- 

 quently repeated the following experiment: Lumps of 

 ordinary sugar, which have no appreciable odor at a dis- 

 tance, were placed in a dark and carefully closed tent where 

 there was neither honey nor anything with any pronounced 

 smell, and where the bees were not accustomed to go. The 

 next day, and even on the second day after, the bees suc- 

 ceeded in finding the lumps of sugar, and recognized that 

 they were just what they had been looking for. Gnawing 

 with the feeble mandibles at the hard lumps, they soon 

 learned that this process was not a practicable way to get 

 sugar, and they then went in search of water to dissolve it, 

 and made it possible for them to pump up the sweet liquid 

 thus produced. 



Result Not Astounding. 



This result, by the way, was not so very astonishing 

 when you observe how skilfully the bees find the places 

 where their booty lies hidden. I shall not dwell further 

 upon this question, for I prefer to come back to that of col- 

 ors. And let me remark that certain isolated observations 

 on that had been wrongly interpreted or too broadly gen- 

 eralized upon. 



M. Motelay once saw a common white butterfly flutter 

 down the street and halt before a shop window, where, for 

 a quarter of an hour, he bumped against the glass. Now 

 this shop belonged to a florist, and there were flowers in 

 the windows ; hence, M. Motelay concluded that the sight 

 of the colored flowers attracted the butterfly— the sight of 

 them and not their smell — for the insect was unable to find 

 the open door of the shop where he might have noticed the 

 fragrance of the flowers within. As this case has fre- 

 quently been cited as typical, let us look at it rather closely. 

 In the first place, if the conclusion were legitimate, we 

 ought to see quantities of bees, butterflies and other honey- 

 seeking insects swarming upon the glass-panes of all green- 

 houses in which there are brilliantly colored flowers. Now, 

 it is a matter of common observation that no such thing 



occurs. On the other hand, that little white butterfly un- 

 doubtedly saw a reflection of himself in the glass, and any 

 one who understands butterflies knows that they frequently 

 flutter about before their reflected selves, taking them for 

 one of their own kind which they seek to pursue — just as 

 you often see butterflies flying about one another in the air. 

 An observation more to the point is this : M. Plateau 

 noticed a white butterfly fluttering desperately against the 

 shop window. If ever there was a chance to verify M. 

 Motelay's observation now was the time, and accordingly 

 M. Plateau looked for the flowers that had attracted the 

 butterfly. The shop turned out to belong to a dealer in 

 household utensils, and the flowers in the window were 

 saucepans and teakettles. 



Insects' Blunders. 



Insects are capable of many blunders, and frequently 

 make mistakes when going from one blue flower to an anal- 

 ogous blue flower of the same type, but not the same spe- 

 cies. Rev. M. Bevan and Miss Shuttleworth report that 

 they have seen bees stupid enough to alight upon the 

 the flowers in wall-paper. To point out this fact to land- 

 lords would be enough to make them stop decorating their 

 walls with flowered wall-paper, for if bees are going to take 

 painted flowers for real ones, the landlords will have a hard 

 time of it keeping their tenants. 



The most curious of these exceptional facts brought 

 forward in proof of a general fact which does not exist is 

 that cited by Romanes. The naturalist Couch, whose name 

 will be surely handed down to posterity in connection with 

 this observation, saw (in a zoological laboratory, I suppose) 

 a bee mistake an actinia — a polyp under water — for a sub- 

 merged flower. 



"The bee hurled herself toward the center of the living 

 disk, and though she struggled to get free he was held fast 

 until she was first drowned and then swallowed." 



I can't make put what this observation proves beyond 

 the fact that a bee seeking to get water, as bees so often do 

 to dilute the honey of the hive for food for larvas, came 

 woefully to grief, and at the moment when she thought to 

 pump up her water supply she was swallowed by the polyp. 

 This I freely admit, but as for attributing to that bee a 

 sufficient degree of imbecility on account of its believing in 

 a flower under water, ask any bee-keeper or lover of bees 

 and see what they say ! 



Why are Flowers Colored ? 



Brushing aside these various isolated facts, let us re- 

 turn to the matter of the recent experiments conducted by 

 Mile. Wery, who says that the colors of flowers account for 

 80 percent of their attractiveness for the bees. A critical 

 study of this work, and all others like it, as well as of the 

 results of the experiments I have lately made, would over- 

 step the limits of this article. What has already been said 

 suffices, I think, to raise serious doubts of the theory which 

 tells us, in the words of Sir John Lubbock, " It is to the 

 bees that we owe the colors of our flowers and the fragrance 

 of our fields." 



Then why are flowers colored ? Why not ask one's self 

 with similar logic the source of that mysterious adaptation 

 to which we owe the colors of rocks, precious stones and the 

 sunset ? Of course this question is neither a reply nor an 

 objection. The advocates of Sprengel's theory have re- 

 cently sought to reply in advance by enquiring : Why are 

 mushrooms frequently garbed in rich colors ? According 

 to several authors convinced of the reciprocal adaptation of 

 flowers and insects, edible mushrooms are colored so as to 

 resemble the poisonous varieties and escape getting picked. 

 "Caesar's dainties," as M. Vuillemin says, " wear the colors 

 of Locusta's poisons." But, then, you may just as well say 

 that the poisonous mushrooms seek to resemble the edible 

 ones in order to get picked. — Translated by the Boston 

 Transcript. 



Appendix to Dp. Miller's "Forty Years."— All who 

 have the first edition of " Forty Years Among the Bees " 

 should also have the Appendix which appears in the new 

 edition, issued recently. The complete new 344-page book, 

 bound in cloth, is sent postpaid for $1.00 ; the Appendix 

 alone for 10 cents. Or, the book and the American Bee 

 Journal a year— both for $1.80 ; the Appendix and the 

 American Bee Journal a year in advance, $1.00. Send all 

 orders to the American Bee Journal office. 



