M. Huber relates some experiments which confirm the singular discovery of M. Riems, concerning common working bees that are capable of laying eggs,—which, we may remark, is certainly a most convincing proof of their being of the female sex. Eggs were observed to increase in number daily, in a hive in which there were no queens of the usual appearance; but small queens considerably resemble workers, and to discriminate them, required minute inspection. “My assistant,” (says M. Huber,) “then offered to perform an operation that required both courage and patience, and which I could not resolve to suggest, though the same expedient had occurred to myself. He proposed to examine each bee in the hive separately, to discover whether some small queen had not insinuated herself among them, and escaped our first researches. It was necessary, therefore, to seize every one of the bees, notwithstanding their irritation, and to examine their specific character with the utmost care. This my assistant undertook, and executed with great address. Eleven days were employed in it; and, during all that time, he scarcely allowed himself any relaxation but what the relief of his eyes required. He took every bee in his hand; he attentively examined the trunk, the hind limbs, and the sting; and he found that there was not one without the characteristics of the common bee, that is, the little basket on the hind legs, the long trunk, and the straight sting.”
When a supernumerary queen is produced in a hive, or is introduced into it in the course of experiment, either she or the rightful owner soon perishes. The German naturalists, Schirach and Riems, imagined that the working bees assailed the stranger, and stung her to death. Reaumur considered it as more probable, that the sceptre was made to depend on the issue of a single combat between the claimants; and this conjecture is verified by the observations of Huber. The same hostility towards rivals, and destructive vengeance against royal cells, animates all queens, whether they be virgins, or in a state of impregnation, or mothers of numerous broods. The working bees, it may here be remarked, remain quiet spectators of the destruction, by the first-hatched queen, of the remaining royal cells; they approach only to share in the plunder presented by their havock-making mistress, greedily devouring any food found at the bottom of the cells, and even sucking the fluid from the abdomen of the nymphs before they toss out the carcase.
The following fact, connected with this subject, is one of the most curious perhaps in the whole history of this wonderful insect. Whenever the workers perceive that there are two rival queens in the hive, numbers of them crowd around each; they seem to be perfectly aware of the approaching deadly conflict, and willing to prompt their Amazonian chieftains to the battle; for as often as the queens shew a disinclination to fight, or seem inclined to recede from each other, or to fly off, the bees immediately surround and detain them; but when either combatant shews a disposition to approach her antagonist, all the bees forming the clusters instantly give way, to allow her full liberty for the attack. It seems strange that those bees, who in general shew so much anxiety about the safety of their queen, should, in particular circumstances, oppose her preparations to avoid impending danger,—should seem to promote the battle, and to excite the fury of the combatants.
When a queen is removed from a hive, the bees do not immediately perceive it; they continue their labours, “watch over their young, and perform all their ordinary occupations. But, in a few hours, agitation ensues; all appears a scene of tumult in the hive. A singular humming is heard; the bees desert their young, and rush over the surface of the combs with a delirious impetuosity.” They have now evidently discovered that their sovereign is gone; and the rapidity with which the bad news spreads through the hive, to the opposite side of the combs, is very remarkable. On replacing the queen in the hive, tranquillity is almost instantly restored. The bees, it is worthy of notice, recognize the individual person of their own queen. If another be palmed upon them, they seize and surround her, so that she is either suffocated, or perishes by hunger; for it is very remarkable, that the workers are never known to attack a queen bee with their stings. If, however, more than eighteen hours have elapsed before the stranger queen be introduced, she has some chance to escape: the bees at first seize and confine her, but less rigidly; and they soon begin to disperse, and at length leave her to reign over a hive, in which she was at first treated as a prisoner. If twenty-four hours have elapsed, the stranger will be well received from the first, and at once admitted to the sovereignty of the hive. In short, it appears that the bees, when deprived of their queen, are thrown into great agitation; that they wait about twenty hours, apparently in hopes of her return; but that, after this interregnum, the agitation ceases, and they set about supplying their loss by beginning to construct royal cells. It is when they are in this temper, and not sooner, that a stranger queen will be graciously received; and upon her being presented to them, the royal cells, in whatever state of forwardness they may happen to be, are instantly abandoned, and the larvæ destroyed. Reaumur must therefore have mistaken the result of his own experiments, when he asserts, that a stranger queen is instantly well received, though presented at the moment when the other is withdrawn. He had seen the bees crowding around her at the entrance of the hive, and laying their antennæ over her; and this he seems to have taken for caressing. The structure of the hives he employed prevented him from seeing further: had he used the leaf-hive, or one of similar construction, he would have perceived that the apparent caresses of the guards were only the prelude to actual imprisonment.
It is well known, that after the season of swarming, a general massacre of the drones is commenced. Several authors assert, in their writings, that the workers do not sting the drones to death, but merely harass them till they are banished from the hive and perish. M. Huber contrived a glass table, on which he placed several hives, and he was thus able to see distinctly what passed at the bottom of the hive, which is generally dark and concealed: he witnessed a real and furious massacre of the males, the workers thrusting their stings so deep into the bodies of the defenceless drones, that they were obliged to turn on themselves as on a pivot, before they could extricate them. The work of death commenced in all the hives much about the same time. It is not, however, by a blind or indiscriminating instinct, that the workers are impelled thus to sacrifice the males; for if a hive be deprived of its queen, no massacre of the males takes place in it, while the hottest persecution rages in all the surrounding hives. In this case, the males are allowed to survive the winter. Mr. Bonner had observed this fact; he supposed, however, that the workers thus tolerated the drones for the sake of the additional heat they generated in the hive; but we now see the true reason to be, that without them the new queen would not be fruitful. The drones are also suffered to exist in hives that possess fertile workers, but no proper queen; and, what is remarkable, they are likewise spared in hives governed by a queen whose fecundity has been retarded. Here, then, we perceive a counter-instinct opposed to that which would have impelled them to the usual massacre.
Upon the subject of swarming, M. Huber commences with an interesting account of the hatching of the queen bee. When the pupa is about to change into the perfect insect, the bees render the cover of the cell thinner, by gnawing away part of the wax; and with so much nicety do they perform this operation, that the cover at last becomes pellucid, owing to its extreme thinness. This must not only facilitate the exit of the fly, but, M. Huber remarks, it may possibly be useful in permitting the evaporation of the superabundant fluids of the nymph. After the transformation is complete, the young queens would, in common course, immediately emerge from their cells, as workers and drones do; but the bees always keep them prisoners for some days in their cells, supplying them in the mean time with honey for food; a small hole being made in the door of each cell, through which the confined bee extends its proboscis to receive it. The royal prisoners continually utter a kind of song, the modulations of which are said to vary. The final cause of this temporary imprisonment, it is suggested, may possibly be, that they may be able to take flight at the instant they are liberated. When a young queen at last gets out, she meets with rather an awkward reception; she is pulled, bitten, and chased, as often as she happens to approach the other royal cells in the hive. The purpose of nature here seems to be, that she should be impelled to go off with a swarm as soon as possible. A curious fact was observed on these occasions: when the queen found herself much harassed, she had only to utter a peculiar noise, (the commanding voice, we may presume, of sovereignty,) and all the bees were instantaneously constrained to submission and obedience. This is, indeed, one of the most marked instances in which the queen exerts her sovereign power.
The conclusions at which M. Huber arrives on the subject of swarms are the following:—
First, “A swarm is always led off by a single queen, either the sovereign of the parent hive, or one recently brought into existence. If, at the return of spring, we examine a hive well peopled, and governed by a fertile queen, we shall see her lay a prodigious number of male eggs in the course of May, and the workers will choose that moment for constructing several royal cells.” This laying of male eggs in May, M. Huber calls the great laying; and he remarks, that no queen ever has a great laying till she be eleven months old. It is only after finishing this laying, that she is able to undertake the journey implied in leading a swarm; for, previously to this, “latum trahit alvum,” which unfits her for flying. There appears to be a secret relation between the production of the male eggs, and the construction of royal cells. The great laying commonly lasts thirty days; and regularly, on the twentieth or twenty-first, several royal cells are founded.
Secondly, “When the larvæ hatched from the eggs laid by the queen in the royal cells are ready to transform to nymphs, this queen leaves the hive, conducting a swarm along with her; and the first swarm that proceeds from the hive is uniformly conducted by the old queen.” M. Huber remarks, that it was necessary that instinct should impel the old queen to lead forth the first swarm: for, that she being the strongest, would never have failed to have overthrown the younger competitors for the throne. An old queen, as has already been said, never quits a hive at the head of a swarm, till she has finished her laying of male eggs; but this is of importance, not merely that she may be lighter and fitter for flight, but that she may be ready to begin with the laying of workers’ eggs in her new habitation, workers being the bees first needed, in order to secure the continuance and prosperity of the newly-founded commonwealth.
Thirdly, “After the old queen has conducted the first swarm from the hive, the remaining bees take particular care of the royal cells, and prevent the young queens, successively hatched, from leaving them, unless at an interval of several days between each.” Under this head he introduces a number of general remarks, some of which may prove useful. “A swarm (he observes) is never seen unless in a fine day, or, to speak more correctly, at a time of the day when the sun shines, and the air is calm. Sometimes we have observed all the precursors of swarming, disorder and agitation: but a cloud passed before the sun, and tranquillity was restored; the bees thought no more of swarming. An hour afterwards, the sun having again appeared, the tumult was renewed; it rapidly augmented, and the swarm departed.” A certain degree of tumult commences as soon as the young queens are hatched, and begin to traverse the hive: the agitation soon pervades the whole bees; and such a ferment soon rages, that M. Huber has often observed the thermometer in the hive to rise suddenly from about 92° to above 104°: this suffocating heat he considers as one of the means employed by nature for urging the bees to go off in swarms. In warm weather, one strong hive has been known to send off four swarms in eighteen days.