AMONGST THE BEES AT WORK
Now I feel sure many will be thinking "It is all very well to talk about all these solitary and social bees, but I never see them. I certainly know a humble bee with a white tail and another with a red tail, and a wasp, and perhaps a hornet, but I never notice any others." The reason for this, no doubt, is that people are not as a rule observant, and even if they notice a creature one moment they probably forget all about it the next. If any one goes out on a bright spring morning, late in March or early in April, about 11 o'clock, into a garden well stocked with flowers, it will not, I think, be many minutes before an insect darts on the wing along some border, and, if attention be paid to the flowers, a little black hairy bee with yellow legs, like a small humble bee, will be seen diligently at work sucking honey from one of them. The darting bee, which is of a brownish red colour, gradually
fading to grey after a few days' exposure to the sun, is the male, and the black one the female. The male rarely settles, but flies about courting the female. Often two or three males may be seen dodging and crossing each other in their flight. The name of this bee is Anthophora. It is quite a harbinger of spring, and I mention it especially as it so forces itself on one's attention, and there are few who will not meet with it without going especially on its quest.
Another opportunity of seeing several kinds of solitary bees flying together may be secured by standing on a sunny day in front of a sallow bush in full blossom, I mean what is commonly called "palm." Its catkins, when the anthers are out and covered with yellow pollen, are most attractive to all kinds of bees, humble bees, hive bees, and solitary bees, and any one who can manage to watch a sallow bush for some time will realize that there are many kinds of bees at work. Of course it is difficult, without special knowledge, to recognize which are bees and which are flies amongst the many which are coming and going, but the yellow-pollened legs of the female bees will generally betray them, as well
as their steadier flight. A fly turns about more rapidly than a bee, and sits down much more abruptly. Bees are very captious about the weather; they do not like an east wind and are, apparently, very sensitive to coming wet. I have often gone out on a bright morning and been surprised to find nothing stirring, and then clouds have come up and proved the wisdom of the bees in staying at home. They also fly very little in cloudy weather, especially in the early spring, when the temperature is reduced by cloud below their fancy. One may be watching a sallow bush and see dozens of insects flying about. A cloud shadows it, and almost immediately they disappear, to appear again as suddenly with the return of the sun's rays. It is interesting to watch bees at work collecting pollen, etc., but if any one wishes to study them at home, their nesting haunts must, of course, be visited. These are so various that it is impossible to point them all out, but the best locality to select is a sandy bank facing south. In June or July such a bank is often alive with bees, sand-wasps, etc.; here, again, we want sunshine or the bees will stay in their holes.
Even when dull, however, it is a very interesting spot, and we can notice the numbers of holes bored in the bank, and their different sizes and shapes; most of them are round, but some sandwasps make very irregular holes. If we look closely at some of the holes we shall see something closing the aperture, and, if we are too inquisitive, that something will disappear down the hole like lightning; it is the face of the owner of the burrow waiting to come out for the first ray of sunshine, but the owner is very timid and it will be some minutes before she puts her face so near danger again. In most of the sandwasps the face is clothed with bright silvery, or sometimes golden, hairs, and it is a very pretty sight to see these little silvery faces peering out of their burrows. Again, one may sometimes notice a little stream of sand emerging from a hole; this is from some bee who is enlarging her domain or clearing out some of the sand which occasionally falls in. In some cases this ejection of sand is done with a great deal of action: the sand comes streaming out and then the bee follows, quite up to the mouth of the passage, kicking out the sand as hard as it can.
The moment, however, that the sun comes out the whole bank is full of life; and just as in the case of the sallow bush, one wonders where it has all been during the shadow. Bees will now be seen flying home laden with pollen; they will pause at the opening of their burrow and then disappear suddenly into its depths. In a very short time they will reappear quite clean and ready for another journey. Their cleaning apparatus must be wonderfully well adapted to its purpose. I have often had to remove the pollen from a bee's leg to see what colour the hairs are, and it takes some time even to brush enough of it off to ascertain this, and yet the natural cleaning process seems to take no time in comparison. But to return to our bank, numbers of bees will be seen coursing up and down and hardly ever settling; these are males paying what attention they can to any females who have time to attend to them, and often falling foul of other males intent on similar pursuits. If one has good luck in the choice of one's bank an elegant wasp-like creature may occasionally be seen amongst the others; this is one of the cuckoos. The flight of all the cuckoo bees is peculiar; it is much
quieter and slower than that of the hosts, and a cuckoo may easily be seen solemnly flying up and down the bank, over the various holes, no doubt watching for the proper opportunity to enter one, and deposit its egg in it. This deliberate flight seems a curious habit in a creature which one would think would wish to escape detection. If it seemed to inspire fear in the mind of its host it would be different, but they appear to fly about together unconcerned at each other's presence, and the cuckoo sails along demurely and imposes on its hosts' labours without any apparent resentment on the latter's part; both seem to accept their relationship as a matter of course. Another very interesting frequenter of sandy banks is a pretty little stout sandwasp, about a quarter of an inch long, called Oxybelus. It has a very bright silvery face which shines most brilliantly in the sun, and the body has a row of white spots on each side, and it brings flies back to its nest. It is very active and common, and may often be seen with its fly going back to its hole. There is a rare species of the same genus, which is clothed all over with silvery hairs, and this in some places, curiously
enough, selects as its victim a fly which is also coated with silver. There are, of course, many other inhabitants in such a bank as this. There are sure to be ants, which are always interesting to watch, and probably now and then a Pompilus will appear on the scene. These exceedingly lively creatures which run at a very rapid pace, vibrating their wings as they go, and taking short flights between the runs, are on the hunt for spiders. They will be seen to forage amongst any grass or herbage there may be on the bank, and if they can only secure a spider it is stung and paralyzed and carried off at once to the nest. Of course every sand bank will not yield a great number of insects, but some, especially in sandy districts like Woking, Oxshott, and other parts of the Surrey commons, and the New Forest, simply teem with life—and would repay any one for hours of watching and observation.