The process of building the combs in a bee-hive, as observed by Huber, is as follows:

The wax-makers having taken a due portion of honey or sugar, from either of which wax can be elaborated, suspend themselves to each other, the claws of the fore-legs of the lowermost being attached to those of the hind pair of the uppermost, and form themselves into a cluster, the exterior layer of which looks like a kind of curtain. This cluster consists of a series of festoons or garlands, which cross each other in all directions, and in which most of the bees turn their back upon the observer: the curtain has no other motion than what it receives from the interior layers, the fluctuations of which are communicated to it.—All this time the nurse-bees preserve their wonted activity and pursue their usual employments.—The wax-makers remain immoveable for about twenty-four hours, during which period the formation of wax takes place, and thin laminæ of this material may be generally perceived under their abdomen. One of these bees is now seen to detach itself from one of the central garlands of the cluster, to make a way amongst its companions to the middle of the vault or top of the hive, and by turning itself round to form a kind of void, in which it can move itself freely. It then suspends itself to the centre of the space, which it has cleared, the diameter of which is about an inch. It next seizes one of the laminæ of wax with a pincer formed by the posterior metatarsus and tibia[832], and drawing it from beneath the abdominal segment, one of the anterior legs takes it with its claws and carries it to the mouth. This leg holds the lamina with its claws vertically, the tongue rolled up serving for a support, and by elevating or depressing it at will, causes the whole of its circumference to be exposed to the action of the mandibles, so that the margin is soon gnawed into pieces, which drop as they are detached into the double cavity, bordered with hairs, of the mandibles. These fragments, pressed by others newly separated, fall on one side of the mouth, and issue from it in the form of a very narrow ribband. They are then presented to the tongue, which impregnates them with a frothy liquor like a bouillie. During this operation the tongue assumes all sorts of forms; sometimes it is flattened like a spatula; then like a trowel, which applies itself to the ribband of wax; at other times it resembles a pencil terminating in a point. After having moistened the whole of the ribband, the tongue pushes it so as to make it re-enter the mandibles, but in an opposite direction, where it is worked up anew. The liquor mixed with the wax communicates to it a whiteness and opacity which it had not before; and the object of this mixture of bouillie, which did not escape the observation of Reaumur[833], is doubtless to give it that ductility and tenacity, which it possesses in its perfect state.

The foundress-bee, a name which this first beginner of a comb deserves, next applies these prepared parcels of wax against the vault of the hive, disposing them with the point of her mandibles in the direction which she wishes them to take: and she continues these manœuvres until she has employed the whole lamina that she had separated from her body, when she takes a second, proceeding in the same manner. She gives herself no care to compress the molecules of wax which she has heaped together; she is satisfied if they adhere to each other. At length she leaves her work, and is lost in the crowd of her companions. Another succeeds, and resumes the employment; then a third; all follow the same plan of placing their little masses; and if any by chance gives them a contrary direction, another coming removes them to their proper place. The result of all these operations is a mass or little wall of wax with uneven surfaces, five or six lines long, two lines high, and half a line thick, which descends perpendicularly below the vault of the hive. In this first work is no angle nor any trace of the figure of the cells. It is a simple partition in a right line without any inflection.

The wax-makers having thus laid the foundation of a comb, are succeeded by the nurse-bees, which are alone competent to model and perfect the work. The former are the labourers, who convey the stone and mortar; the latter the masons, who work them up into the form which the intended structure requires. One of the nurse-bees now places itself horizontally on the vault of the hive, its head corresponding to the centre of the mass or wall which the wax-makers have left, and which is to form the partition of the comb into two opposite assemblages of cells; and with its mandibles, rapidly moving its head, it moulds in that side of the wall a cavity which is to form the base of one of the cells to the diameter of which it is equal. When it has worked some minutes it departs, and another takes its place, deepening the cavity, heightening its lateral margins by heaping up the wax to right and left by means of its teeth and fore-feet, and giving them a more upright form. More than twenty bees successively employ themselves in this work. When arrived at a certain point, other bees begin on the yet untouched and opposite side of the mass; and commencing the bottom of two cells, are in turn relieved by others. While still engaged in this labour, the wax-makers return and add to the mass, augmenting its extent every way, the nurse-bees again continuing their operations.—After having worked the bottoms of the cells of the first row into their proper forms, they polish them and give them their finish, while others begin the outline of a new series.

The cells themselves, or prisms which result from the re-union and meeting of the sides, are next constructed. These are engrafted on the borders of the cavities hollowed in the mass. The bees begin them by making the contour of the bottoms, which at first is unequal, of equal height: thus all the margins of the cells offer an uniformly level surface from their first origin, and until they have acquired their proper length. The sides are heightened in an order analogous to that which the insects follow in finishing the bottoms of the cells; and the length of these tubes is so perfectly proportioned that there is no observable inequality between them.—It is to be remarked, that though the general form of the cells is hexagonal, that of those first begun is pentagonal, the side next the top of the hive, and by which the comb is attached, being much broader than the rest; whence the comb is more strongly united to the hive than if these cells were of the ordinary shape. It of course follows that the base of these cells, instead of being formed like those of the hexagonal cells of three rhomboids, consists of one rhomboid and two trapeziums.

The form of a new comb is lenticular, its thickness always diminishing towards the edges. This gradation is constantly observable while it keeps enlarging in circumference; but as soon as the bees get sufficient space to lengthen it, it begins to lose this form and to assume parallel surfaces: it has then received the shape which it will always preserve.

The bees appear to give the proper forms to the bottoms of the cells by means of their antennæ, which extraordinary organs they seem to employ as directors by which their other instruments are instructed to execute a very complex work. They do not remove a single particle of wax until the antennæ have explored the surface that is to be sculptured. By the use of these organs, which are so flexible and so readily applied to all parts, however delicate, that they can perform the functions of compasses in measuring very minute objects, they can work in the dark, and raise those wonderful combs the first production of insects.

Every part of the work appears a natural consequence of that which precedes it, so that chance has no share in the admirable results witnessed. The bees cannot depart from their prescribed route, except in consequence of particular circumstances which alter the basis of their labour. The original mass of wax is never augmented but by an uniform quantity; and what is most astonishing, this augmentation is made by the wax-makers, who are the depositaries of the primary matter, and possess not the art of sculpturing the cells.

The bees never begin two masses for combs at the same time; but scarcely are some rows of cells constructed in the first, when two other masses, one on each side of it, are established at equal distances from it and parallel to it, and then again two more exterior to these. The combs are always enlarged and lengthened in a progression proportioned to the priority of their origin; the middle comb being constantly advanced beyond the two adjoining ones by some rows of cells, and they beyond those that are exterior to them. Was it permitted to these insects to lay the foundation of all their combs at the same time, they could not be placed conveniently or parallel to each other. So with respect to the cells, the first cavity determines the place of all that succeed it.

A large number of bees work at the same time on the same comb; but they are not moved to it by a simultaneous but by a successive impulse. A single bee begins every partial operation, and many others in succession add their efforts to hers, each appearing to act individually in a direction impressed either by the workers who have preceded it, or by the condition in which it finds the work. The whole population of wax-makers is in a state of the most complete inaction till one bee goes forth to lay the foundations of the first comb. Immediately others second her intentions, adding to the height and length of the mass; and when they cease to act, a bee, if the term may be used, of another profession, one of the nurse-bees, goes to form the draught of the first cell, in which she is succeeded by others.