98 Instincts and Habits of Bees. 



curiosity in their aspect as they explore the alighting-place, seek 

 the cause of the disturbance, and send out a few scouts to circle 

 round and see all safe, or, it may be, signify by threats of sting- 

 ing the disturber of their peace, that it will not be safe to 

 repeat that experiment too often. There is no doubt that the 

 transmission of signals and communications necessary to the 

 progress of the work within the hive is as much accomplished 

 by the beating of wings and various humming tones as by the 

 contact of antennae, for many distinct sounds of bees can be 

 distinguished by observation as associated with distinct acts, 

 e. g., the sharp ringing sound that immediately precedes the 

 act of stinging : who that has heard it, and felt the result, can 

 ever forget it as long as he lives ? When a bee is hurt, as, for 

 instance, in putting on a honey-box the edge of it will some- 

 times fall upon some unlucky bee, the same sound is pro- 

 duced, expressive, doubtless, of anger more than of pain. 



Shakspeare, who drew comparisons and metaphors from the 

 meanest things, makes use of this habit of the bee in that mag- 

 nificent scene in " Julius Csesar" (Act v. s. 1), where the con- 

 spirators encounter Octavius and Antony : — 



Cassips. Antony, 

 f The posture of your blows are yet unknown ; 

 But for your words, they rob the Hybla bees, 

 And leave them honeyless. 



Antony. Not stingless too. 



Betjtus. O yes, and soundless too ; 

 For you have stolen their buzzing, Antony, 

 And very wisely threat before you sting. 



That the sense of smell is very acute in bees does not admit 

 of question. No doubt the immunity many bee-keepers enjoy 

 from their attacks, in their bold methods of manipulating at 

 the hive, is in some measure attributable to the fact that the 

 emanations from the skin are agreeable to the bees, or at least 

 not offensive. On the other hand, the fatality that attends the 

 interference of others, may be attributable to the emission from 

 their bodies of odours which bees dislike, as well as to 

 clumsiness and want of courage. I had in my employ for some 

 years a gardener who could never go near the hives at any 

 time, except in wet or cold weather, and not always then with 

 perfect safety. I have seen him at work at a distance of a dozen 

 yards from the bee-shed, thinking himself perfectly safe, but 

 presently a bee would lodge in his neck, inflict a wound before he 

 could move a step or put up his hand in defence, and leave him 

 writhing with pain, and, of course, with perhaps a spice of sar- 

 casm, pronouncing it very marvellous that at the same time I 

 could go as near the hive as I pleased and quietly liberate a bee 

 from a spider's web and place him on the board, to be cleaned of 



