Concurrently with the formation of the brood cells of the drones, some of the workers are constructing cells to receive the royal eggs. These cells are totally unlike the other cells of the hive, and are of a sort of pear-shape five times as large as the drone cells, and are attached laterally to the edges of the comb in a vertical position, with the narrowest part, which is the orifice, hanging downwards. In the forming of these cells the workers are very lavish of their wax, making the coats of them thick and opaque, and they are irregularly rough outside, but within very smoothly polished. Just as the construction of these cells intervenes irregularly with the formation of the cells of the drones, so does the queen intermit at intervals the laying of the drone eggs to deposit occasionally an egg in one of the royal cells, which are not usually completed at the time she commences laying them, but are finished afterwards, even during the time the larva is growing. This provision seems to be made for the earliest development of the young queens after the drones come forth, with the possible prevision that the sooner all of these young queens are fertilized that are needful for the requirements of the swarms that the hive may throw off, the sooner will the hive be rid of the incumbrance and the consumption of stores caused by the drones. The transformations of the queens take place more rapidly than the others, for in sixteen days they are completed, of which three are occupied in hatching the egg, and for five they are feeding as larvæ, and in that time attain their full growth; the cell is then closed in with a waxen cover by the workers, and the full-fed larva within is occupied in spinning its cocoon, which it takes twenty-four hours to accomplish. This cocoon is unlike that of the drones and workers, both of which completely enclose the pupa, but the royal larva only forms so much of a cocoon as will cover the head and thorax, and by which imperfection she unconsciously facilitates her destruction by her rivals in case they are permitted to attempt it before she emerges,—this being supposed to be the object of it, as the close texture of the silk of the cocoon would intercept the action of the rival queen’s sting. In this state she remains in complete repose up to a part of the twelfth day, and it takes about four days more to change into the imago, which is ready to emerge on the sixteenth. In her larva state she has been very carefully and profusely supplied by her nurses with the royal jelly, made in the manner before described. This royal jelly is very stimulating, it is pungent, rather acescent, and is very different from the food supplied to the drone- and worker-larvæ. A great many of the drones being now perfect insects, some young queen, that is ready to go forth, is at length permitted to do so by her guardian protectors, for the old queen is already aware of her existence, and has more than once attempted her destruction, but from which she has been prevented. At a suitable opportunity this young queen issues, attended by a bevy of drones; she immediately ascends in a spiral direction high into the air, far out of sight, and is followed by her suitors. Their larger capacity of flight speedily permits them to overtake her, and they ascend above her; one being favoured, the rest descend again, and either at once return to the hive or frolic about in its vicinity. It is not long before this young queen returns, matured into an incipient mother. Now comes renewed hostility from her own parent, who is still prevented from the murderous assault, but who succeeds in ejecting her young rival. During this contest the hive has become a scene of confusion, and the preliminaries and accompaniments of fresh swarming take place, and in going forth she is accompanied by a large body of the present population, and thus the first swarm of the fresh season is thrown off. Other queens become gradually developed, and other swarms similarly accompany them, but each swarm successively diminishes in the number of its participating emigrants, the last consisting perhaps of not more than two thousand. The order of the hive is speedily restored after each swarming convulsion has subsided, until the population being sufficiently reduced, the motive to leave is destroyed, and the queen is then permitted to execute her murderous onslaught on the hapless young queens, which are either still embryonic, or, if developed, have not been allowed to leave their cells; but, where they have done so, and are still within the hive, her attendants and the old queen’s attendants open their ranks, and the furious rivals attack each other. The contest is sharp but short, the young queen is stung to death, the body is conveyed away, and the old queen reigns paramount. Her next effort is to destroy the royal brood in their cells; the cells she tears to pieces, the young ones within, where developed, may be heard uttering a plaintive cry, whilst she sounds a triumphant note as loud as the highest note of a flute. Her throne is now free from pretenders, and after the expulsion of the drones, which then takes place, the entire harmony of the hive is restored for another season. The queen meanwhile is growing old, a new spring has set in, her stock of eggs is being exhausted, and mortality, which afflicts even royalty itself, lays her low. Now comes into operation that extraordinary faculty possessed by these insects. Her death has taken place after she had laid new spring eggs, which are to produce a further addition of neuters and a supply of drones. The loss of their queen is soon communicated to the inhabitants of the hive, confusion ensues, and labour is suspended. They group about in clusters of a dozen or more, and after about a day’s intermission of the ordinary routine of labour they appear to have come to a resolution. Bustle is again renewed, and several, as the delegates of the general body, pass into the midst of the neuter brood cells, tear down the separating walls of three, kill two of the very young larvæ, convert these three cells into one by fitting alterations, and transfer the care of this vermicle to the nursing-bees. Under their care, they heedfully feeding her with the royal jelly, her transformations speedily are completed, and whilst this is being done, drones are coming forth. As soon as she is ready she is aided to quit her cell. She now leaves the hive, and the drones which are already perfected accompany her; she makes her wedding tour in the air, and quickly returns as the queen-regnant of the rejoicing monarchy, whose vacant throne is again royally occupied, and the entire harmony of the hive renewed.
The quantity of pollen that is collected in the course of a season, by the diligence of the bees, has been estimated at from sixty to seventy pounds; and the weight of the honey, so affluent a hive will produce by abstraction from the bees, is calculated at as much as sometimes fifty pounds. This, however, must be vastly exceeded by the quantity collected, as it is being constantly consumed for sustenance, and for the secretion of the raw material of wax, as well as for the production of the liquid which converts this into its mouldable consistency. It is possible to estimate pretty nearly the quantity of honey required for each secretion of the raw material, by finding what the honey-bag will contain when gorged, as it is this quantity which seems to make the eight scales of it upon the ventral plates, for they cannot convey more up when they hang themselves in the festoons to secern it. But it is impossible to know what addition this liquid from their mouths makes to it when they manipulate it into its plastic state, other bees often undertaking this task, which may apply themselves to it with a larger stock than the wax secreters possess, they being perhaps already exhausted by their labours. It is a singular fact that wax is more rapidly and largely made by feeding the bees with dissolved sugar than from the honey they collect themselves, the sugar thus evidently containing more of its productive elements.
Some of the labours within the hive are apparently continued at night, or the bees may be then revelling, after the day’s toils, in social enjoyment, or otherwise more worthily employed; for, to use the words of the benevolent apiarian, the Rev. Wm. Chas. Cotton, “If you listen by a hive about nine o’clock, you will hear an oratorio sweeter than any at Exeter Hall. Treble, tenor, and bass are blended in the richest harmony. Sometimes the sound is like the distant hum of a great city, and sometimes it is like a peal of hallelujahs.”
This is the history of the hive and its inhabitants. Modifications may occasionally occur, but nothing of sufficient consequence seriously to affect or neutralize this ordinary routine. It would occupy space already too largely encroached upon to go into these minute particulars, which, although parts of their general history, where treated of in special detail, are not necessarily the province of a work which speaks of them as but one member of the family of which it collectively discourses. As the space occupied by what was really essential to be known about them, has exceeded the due dimensions of their share to it, although of paramount interest, infinitely greater than that which attaches to the economy of the whole of the rest of the group combined, it will not, I trust, be considered that I terminate abruptly, in drawing here to a close.
The close of the work concurs with the termination of the history of its crowning marvel; and I take leave of my readers, with a reiteration of the hope that it may stimulate them to undertake a study, wherein, each step of their progress, expands the delightful contemplation of the manifestations of the predominance of a vast design, emanating from the paternal benevolence of an august, supreme, and wisely superintending Providence.
“To-morrow to fresh woods and pastures new.”—Milton.
