CHAPTER XXVII.
SIGNS OF RECOGNITION AMONG THE BEES.
The bees of a hive have the means of recognition, and of distinguishing their companions from every stranger bee; without which they could not defend their honey. In vain would the Creator have armed each of them with a formidable sting, had they not been also given to know the enemies which that sting was to pierce. Strangers would have gone in and out without risk of detection or punishment, mingled with the workers, and deprived them of treasures industriously collected. But the All-wise Author of Nature, who has given them the means of defence, has also endowed them with the instinct to distinguish enemies from friends, even among their own species. Let a bee fall by accident, or be driven by the wind, into a hive not its own, it is seized as one suspected of evil intention, and put to death that moment.
What is their signal of recognition? What is the organ and the instrument? Is it the antennæ,—those little flexible horns in front of their heads? or is it by the smell they recognize each other?
A great inconvenience attending crowded apiaries is, that two or more hives may have the same signal; but happily, in this case, which is a rare one, they have the power of changing the signal; in proof of which, the following circumstance happened with mine, in one of the most abundant honey seasons.
In the month of May I had lodged my first swarm, which was a very strong one, in a large straw hive. The weather being very mild, they set to work immediately, and very soon filled more than half of the hive. In a few days, I observed it was invaded by a swarm belonging to one of my neighbours; that they went in and came out, without being detected; and that they were carrying out as much honey as my bees were bringing in.
I shut up one-half of their door; and, for nearly a whole week, whenever I was at leisure, I stationed myself near my swarm, and killed every day hundreds of the thieves, which were easily distinguished by their shape,—slender enough when they went in, but puffed up as they came out, with as much nectar as they could contain. This, however, did not stop them, and they continued coming and going, in greater numbers, till night, and beginning again early in the morning.
I had plenty of sport, but my labour was in vain, and I began to despair of saving my swarm, when, one afternoon, I perceived it to be agitated and troubled, as if it had lost its queen. The bees buzzed about before the hive, and on the board, smelling and touching each other, as if they would have spoken. It was to change their signal, and which in fact they did change, during the night; and all the strangers that came next day were arrested, and put to death. Some escaped the vigilance of the guards that defended the entrance, and doubtless warned the others of the danger they had escaped, and that they could no more plunder with impunity: they returned no more, and my hive prospered wonderfully. I have, in the course of my life, seen only other two similar instances that had the same result.