6o THE LORE OF THE HONEY-BEE 



right to the edge of the footplate, but principally 

 on one side; and still closer observation will 

 reveal the fact that there is a regular system of 

 relief among them. Though the general volume 

 of sound never abates one jot, every few minutes 

 one or another of these stationary bees moves 

 away, her place being immediately taken by 

 another, who settles down to the common task in 

 line with the rest. The reason for all this is plain 

 enough: the fanners are engaged in ventilating 

 the hive, drawing a current of vitiated air through 

 the entrance on one side, which flanks, but does 

 not oppose, a corresponding current of pure air 

 sucked in on the other. 



All through the warm days of spring and 

 summer this fanning squadron is constantly at 

 work ; nor does it cease with the darkness. Chill 

 nights find the ranks weakened and reduced to 

 perhaps only a few bees, or even to none at all 

 when a cold snap of weather intervenes. But in 

 the dog-days, or, as the ancients used to say, when 

 Sirius, the honey-star, is shining, the deep sibilant 

 note of these fanners rises, in a populous apiary, 

 almost to the voice-strength of a gale of wind. To 

 come out then under the stars of a summer night, 

 and stand listening in the tense, fragrant darkness 

 to this mighty note, is to get an impression of bee- 

 life unattainable at any other season. In the day- 

 time the sound is intermingled, overwhelmed, by 

 the chorus of the flying bees. But now all are 



