60 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 isa 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 
