Instincts and Habits of Bees. 97 



causeway open ; this done, he may approach the hive at the 

 side of the entrance, and do almost as he pleases short of in- 

 flicting actual injury. By the word " causeway" is not meant 

 the entrance to the hive ; that, of course, is always open ; but 

 the space through which the bees pass in their way from the 

 hive to their pasture, and from their pasture to the hive, and 

 which on a hot day is easily distinguished by the bees them- 

 selves, who perform their traffic, as it were, in a channel, or 

 shall we say a " sailing line," from which they only diverge 

 when they are at some distance from the hive. Let us sit beside 

 the hive and watch. One after another the bees swarm out ; 

 each bee rushes to the. edge of the hive-board, and from that 

 edge darts forward along the sailing Hue, then makes an easy 

 curve upwards into the free atmosphere and is gone. Stand 

 for a few moments in that sailing line, and you will have warn- 

 ing : a bee, interrupted in her progress by your presence, will 

 buzz about you, and unless you move at that hint, one or two 

 more will join in the quarrel ; next, war will be proclaimed in a 

 loud key, and unless you retreat quickly and far away, you will 

 taste the venom of a bee's sting, and remember for the rest of 

 your life the potent chemistry with which Nature has endowed 

 this little creature for self-defence. But you see the habit of 

 the bee is to prefer industry to warfare, and it rarely happens 

 that a person is stung by a bee without having fairly earned 

 the compliment by blocking up the causeway, or in some other 

 manner interrupting the sober and serious business of the hive. 

 The requisites for bee-keeping are not so much skill as care — 

 not so much a knowledge of bees as confidence in handling 

 them. With these two requisites a little knowledge goes a 

 great way, and all the necessary practical details of bee-keeping 

 may be learned in a season. 



Any one given to habits of observation will, in taking notes 

 of the operations of the hive, soon be led into speculations as to 

 the relative degrees of the sensational functions in the bee. 

 That they are not greatly dependant on eyesight is evident in 

 the fact that they prefer to work in the dark. Yet that they 

 are very sensitive to the impression of light is evident by their 

 eager rush to the open air when the ground is covered with 

 snow ; for then, and only then, it becomes necessary to stop the 

 entrance for a time, or the bees, probably mistaking the glare 

 of light for sunshine, sally forth gaily, soon get benumbed and 

 myriads of them perish, so that strong stocks are often seri- 

 ously weakened by snow-storms, unless kept at home by the 

 watchful apiarian. That they are sensible of vibrations may 

 be proved any day by tapping on the floor-board with the 

 knuckle, for there is at once a rush to the entrance, and a 

 dozen or more workers, with a real look of wonderment and 



