THE STORY OF THE SWARM 135 
being fed; most of the combs are fairly well covered 
with their busy population, consisting principally of 
young bees, although a fair sprinkling of mature 
workers and drones is everywhere visible. In eight 
or ten days the new queen will be laying and the 
colony rapidly regaining its former strength. 
Meanwhile, the swarm is still in the air, every bee 
careering hither and thither with no other apparent 
purpose than that of allowing full vent to the mad 
excitement which has so mysteriously seized upon 
it. This state will often last a considerable time, 
and, in rare cases, will end by the bees trooping 
soberly back to the hive under just as mysterious 
a revulsion of feeling and resuming their old steady 
work. At other times the cloud of bees will suddenly 
rise high into the air and go straight off across 
country, disappearing in a few moments from the 
keenest view. But generally, after a short spell of 
this berserk frolic, the swarm seems gradually to 
unite under common direction. The dark network 
of flying bees overhead shrinks and grows denser. 
At last you make out the beginnings of the cluster— 
a mere handful of bees clinging to a branch in a 
tree or bush. The handful swells at a wonderful 
pace as the bees crowd towards it from all quarters. 
In three or four minutes the whole multitude is 
locked together in a solid pendent mass, and the 
wild song of freedom has died down to a few stray 
intermittent notes. 
This silence, following the shrill, abounding 
turmoil, has an almost uncanny effect. It seems so 
utterly opposed to, and incongruous with, the mad 
state of things that existed before; and it is difficult 
to escape the conclusion that the bees have weakly 
