AN IDYL OF THE HONEY-BEE, 53 



is as mad as a hornet ; its tone changes, it sounds its 

 shrill war trumpet and darts to and fro, and rivef 

 vent to its rage and indignation in no uncertain man 

 ner. It seems to scent foul play at once. It saws, 

 "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 *>r 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 doubt- 

 less bears some evidence with it upon its feet or pro* 

 boscis that it has been upon honey-comb and net upon 

 flowers, and its companions take the hint and follow, 

 arriving always many seconds behind. Then the 

 quantity and quality of the booty woidd also betraj 

 it. No doubt, also, there are plenty of gossips about 

 a hive that note and tell everything. " Oh, did you 

 see that ? Peggy Mel came in a few moments ago 

 m great haste, and one of the up-stairs packers says 

 she was loaded till she groaned with apple- blossom 



