A SHEAF OF NATURE NOTES 



crush a bee in the fields or by the bee-hunter's box 

 which is swarming with bees, and the units from 

 the same hive heed it not. 



Bees have no fear. They have no love or attach- 

 ment for one another as animals have. If one of 

 their number is wounded or disabled, they ruth- 

 lessly expel it from the hive. In fact, they belong 

 to another world of beings that is absolutely 

 oblivious of the world of which we form a part. 

 They murder or expel the drones, after they have 

 done their work of fertilizing the queen, in the most 

 cruel and summary manner. Their apparent at- 

 tachment to the queen, and their loyalty to her, 

 are not personal. They do not love her. It is 

 the Spirit of the Hive, or the cult of the swarm 

 solicitous about itself. There are no brothers, sis- 

 ters, fathers, mothers, among the bees; there are 

 only co-workers, working not for the present, but 

 for the future. When we enter the kingdom of the 

 bee, we must leave all our human standards behind. 

 These little people have no red blood, no organs 

 of sense, as we have; they breathe and hear through 

 their legs, their antennae. 



The drones do not know the queen as such in 

 the hive. Their instincts lead them to search for 

 her in the air during her nuptial flight, and they 

 know her only there. The drones have thirteen 

 thousand eyes, while the workers have only six 

 thousand. This double measure of the power of 



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