“Then they are looking for a hive to live in?”
“They are looking for a hive.”
“And where do these homeless bees come from?”
“They come from the old hive in the garden.”
“They might have stayed there, instead of going out to seek their fortunes.”
“They could not. The population of the hive increased, and there was not room enough for all. So the most adventurous, under the guidance of a queen, expatriated themselves to found a colony elsewhere. The emigrating troop is called a swarm.”
“The queen who leads the swarm—she must be there in the common bunch?”
“She is. It is she who, alighting on the currant-bush, determined the halt of the entire company.”
These words, country, queen, emigrants, colony, had impressed the children’s imaginations; they were astonished to hear the terms of human politics applied to bees. Questions came one after another, but Uncle Paul turned a deaf ear.
“Wait until the swarm is gathered into the hive, and I will tell you at length the splendid story of the bees. At present I will only answer Claire’s question as to why Jacques and Mother Ambroisine tapped on the watering-pot and the saucepan.