G2 PEPA.CTON 



its shrill war trumpet and darts to and fro, and 

 gives vent to its rage and indignation in no uncer- 

 tain manner. It seems to scent foul play at once. 

 It says, "Here is robbery; here is the spoil of 

 some hive, may be my own," and its blood is up. 

 But its ruling passion soon comes to the surface, its 

 avarice gets the better of its indignation, and it 

 seems to say, "Well, I had better take possession 

 of this and carry it home." So after many feints 

 and approaches and dartings off with a loud angry 

 hum as if it would none of it, the bee settles down 

 and fills itself. 



It does not entirely cool off and get soberly to 

 work till it has made two or three trips home with 

 its booty. When other bees come, even if all from 

 the same swarm, they quarrel and dispute over the 

 box, and clip and dart at each other like bantam 

 cocks. Apparently the ill feeling which the sight 

 of the honey awakens is not one of jealousy or 

 rivalry, but wrath. 



A bee will usually make three or four trips from 

 the hunter's box before it brings back a companion. 

 I suspect the bee does not tell its fellows what it 

 has found, but that they smell out the secret; it 

 doubtless bears some evidence with it upon its feet 

 or proboscis that it has been upon honeycomb and 

 not upon flowers, and its companions take the hint 

 and follow, arriving always many seconds behind. 

 Then the quantity and quality of the booty would 

 also betray it. No doubt, also, there are plenty of 

 gossips about a hive that note and tell everything. 



