96 Instincts and Habits of Bees. 



I must confess that, though my spouse keeps a sharp eye on 

 the economical results of bee-keeping, I am careless of that 

 matter, because much more interested in the mysteries of that 

 perfect monarchical system which a bee-hive represents, in its 

 estates and orders, its community of interests, and divisions of 

 authority and power. Perhaps there is also some gratification 

 of vanity in being able to handle bees dexterously, and indulge 

 in a species of familiarity with them which is denied to mortals 

 who have no apiarian proclivities. If I can work the whole day 

 through in planting, building, and superintending gardening 

 operations within a yard of the mouths of the hives, while the 

 population are rushing to and fro, and making a buzz somewhat 

 resembling the roar of the sea on the beach at half a furlong 

 distance, there must be a friendly familiarity between us • or 

 how is it that I alone can do so with impunity, having no fear 

 of those awful weapons for which bees are deservedly notorious? 

 But I shall not boast of this familiarity, for in plain truth I 

 disbelieve it, though daily experiencing a quasi proof of the 

 claims of the apiarian saw, that bees know and love their keep- 

 ers. I am not only busy myself at the mouth of the hive at 

 midday in hot weather,, when no one else dare come near, but 

 I can take up a bee just returned from a journey, carry it 

 away in my hand to a distant part of the garden, and then 

 set it free, in order to see it first dart upwards and slightly 

 circle round, and then go in a straight line, like a shot from a 

 gun, to the mouth of the hive again, which is a homely illustra- 

 tion of the American method of hunting for honey in the 

 prairies. With all this, and much more that would be trifling* 

 to relate, I do not believe the bees know their keeper, or have 

 the slightest care or affection for any human being, Virgil, 

 Columella, and Wildman not excepted. To be used to bees is 

 one thing in favour of these operations. A nervous person 

 will be sure to make a fuss, and perhaps shake the hive-board 

 in attempting to operate with bees ; but experience renders one 

 capable of moving easily and quietly and with self-possession, 

 and what we call " nerve " in such matters is as needful in 

 taming lions as bees, and is the first essential of success. Now 

 why should the bees know me ? I have not seen much of them 

 all the winter, and the bees I played and talked with last sum- 

 mer died long ago, and those now buzzing in and out have 

 scarcely seen me till lately; and there cannot be much friend- 

 ship, for the simple reason that there is, ab initio, little or no 

 acquaintanceship. The fact of the matter is, that bees are 

 very loath to sting anybody when they are thoroughly busy • 

 and so long as their causeway is not interrupted, they do not 

 for a long time become aware of the presence of an intruder on 

 their precincts. The bee-keeper's first care is to keep the 



