The honey-bee: its nature, homes and products

by William Hetherington Harris

"The precautions taken seem to me to have placed the colours on an equal footing; while the number of experiments appears sufficient to give a fair average." As this table differs in form from the other, it may be as well to explain the first line of figures in illustration of the whole. The first series consisted of eleven experiments. The preferences were noted as before, and when the numbers indicating these were added up, the results were that twenty-six represented the total for the blue glass, thirty-nine for the green, fifty-one for the orange, sixty-five for the plain glass, fifty-five for the red, thirty-five for the white, and thirty-seven for the yellow the blue being again manifestly the most attractive colour to the bees. Some practical bee-keepers consider the question by no means settled. The field is doubtless open for further exploration.

The Antennæ. In the front part of the head are two organs, which appear to supplement, in some remarkable way, probably by touch-sensations, the power of vision, and also to possess other capabilities constituting a sense to which we have nothing strictly analogous. These organs are called antennæ. They spring from origins near together, at equal distances from the medial and anterior point of the head, and are connected, by distinct and somewhat large filaments, with the nerve matter forming the cephalic ganglia. Externally they consist, first, of one segment nearest the head, much longer than the rest. This part is called the scape. Then, forming a sort of elbow with it, is the flagellum, consisting of eleven joints in queens and workers, and of twelve in the drones. These segments are tubular, and so attached to each other as to give the greatest possible freedom of motion. Their extremities are wonderfully sensitive, and it is probable that there is a very delicate power of feeling in each of the joints. For the cleansing of these organs, special provision is made in the construction of the fourth and fifth joints of the most forward pair of legs. At the anterior part of the tibia, or fourth joint, is a spur, within, and at the base of, which is a small angular projection, called the velum or sail. At the base of the next joint, and opposite the play of this velum, is found a deep notch. From the fact of its being fringed with hairs, this is called the curry-comb. Upon this notch the velum can act at the will of the insect, and, when shut over one another, they form a circular orifice, just large enough to take the antennæ. When the latter organ needs cleansing, it is laid within the notch: the velum is pressed over it, and being drawn through the round space, dust and other soilures are removed from its surface. So particular are the bees about keeping their antennæ thoroughly clean, that they may often be observed continuing this operation of drawing them through the curry-comb till perfectly satisfied with their condition. Doubtless, the delicate nature of the impressions to which these organs are susceptible, supplies the reason for the care taken in freeing them from all extraneous substances.

The uses served by the antennæ are various and very remarkable. Their first function seems to be to supplement vision. Endowed with exceeding flexibility, they are kept by the insects in constant motion; and when their eyes fail to guide them to particular spots, such as the entrance to the hive, or as to the nature of objects with which they come into contact, the antennæ appear to supply the necessary information. There is little doubt that these "horns" or "feelers," as they are commonly called, are sensitive, also, to impressions from objects at some distance. Vibrations of the air too feeble to affect our organs affect them. It may even be that other qualities of the atmosphere are apprehended by them. The shape of the cells; the suitability of these for brood of various kinds, for honey or for bee-bread, is ascertained by the antennæ. Every want and every duty is recognised by them; the presence or absence of the queen is discovered by their use, and intelligence is conveyed from one individual to another by means of them.

Of these facts, Huber has given the following striking evidence. He divided a stock hive into two parts by metal network, sufficiently fine to prevent the passage of the bees, but with meshes wide enough to allow the antennæ to be passed through. At first, by a pair of such gratings at a little distance apart, he separated the two portions, so that no communication whatever could take place between them. Very soon that half from which the queen was excluded showed signs of commotion and distress, and even began to prepare queen-cells, to supply themselves with a new sovereign; but when, by the removal of one grating, Huber allowed the feelers to be used to convey intelligence between the bees on opposite sides of the remaining division, he saw the insects by hundreds making inquiries as to what had happened. Then the queen was observed on the grating, and the bees being assured, by crossing antennæ with her, that their mother was still in the hive, though shut off from free access to one set of her subjects, they all quieted down, left off making the royal cells, and resumed their various avocations.

Huber tried the further experiment of depriving two queens of their antennæ, and introducing both into the same hive. The population did not seem able to recognise their own sovereign from the stranger, and both were let alone; but, directly he put in a third queen, unmutilated in these organs, the workers fell upon her, and slaughtered her.

The antennæless queens lost all purpose, laid eggs at random, and wandered about the hives as if they had "lost their heads."

Another very curious fact is, that if a worker is deprived of her feelers, and then allowed to fly, she becomes incapable of recognising her hive, even when near to it, and is hopelessly lost as to her whereabouts. From this circumstance we are inclined to conclude that the antennæ are possessed of sensibilities to which we have nothing strictly analogous—that, in fact, there resides in them a sense, or senses, with which mankind is not endowed, one of which we are disposed to call the "homing-sense."

Numerous observations show that by the antennæ, also, distinct information can be given. We have ourselves tried the following experiment in confirmation of this point. Having placed near the entrance of a hive a dead humble-bee, we first noticed one of the sentinels rush to the body, and with her feelers investigate its nature. Finding it was a lifeless creature, and one, therefore, simply to be got rid of, she began to tug at it, to move it towards the edge of the floor-board. At once discovering that the weight was too great for her strength, she went to the entrance, and meeting a friend, by crossing their feelers, the one was made aware of the difficulty of the other. The second then went to the aid of the first; but, as the body was too great a burden for their united efforts, the new-comer gave up her attempts to move it, as if the duty did not concern her much. The first bee, however, would not be baffled till she had fetched several other individuals, one at a time, to the work in hand. But, at length, as she could get no combined action, and as no two were sufficiently strong to haul away the large carcase of their distant relative, she gave up the task in despair, and retired to the hive in apparent disgust.

On a moonlight night the sentries may be observed marching eagerly about the entrances of their abodes, and vigorously moving their antennæ, to ascertain whether moths, or other unwelcome intruders, are trying to get inside the hives. The presence of an enemy being detected, he is soon chased away.

By some naturalists the feelers have been thought to afford the capacity of smell. It is, however, more probable that this sense resides in the mouth itself, or in its immediate neighbourhood.