And hang in clustered columns from the door;
Or now in restless rings around they fly,
Nor spoil they sip, nor load the hollowed thigh;
E'en the dull drone his wonted ease gives o'er,
Flaps the unwieldy wing, and longs to soar."
But when all is ready, a scene of the most violent agitation takes place; the bees rush out in vast numbers, forming quite a dark cloud as they traverse the air.
The time selected for the departure of the emigrants is generally between 10 a.m. and 3 p.m.; most swarms come off within an hour of noon. In very sultry weather they have been known to be as early as 7 a.m., and on the other hand as late as 5 p.m., though this last probably only occurs when a young queen leads the detachment. As a rule, says Von Berlepsch, first swarms start in the morning and after-swarms in the afternoon. It is a very general remark that bees choose a Sunday for swarming, and probably this is because then greater stillness reigns around. It will not be difficult to imagine that the careful bee-keeper is anxious to keep a strict watch, lest he should lose such a treasure when once it takes wing. The exciting scene at a bee-swarming has been well described by the apiarian laureate:—
"Mounts the glad chief! and, to the cheated eye,
Ten thousand shuttles dart along the sky,
As swift through ether rise the rushing swarms,