The natural method by which an increase of colonies among bees is secured, is of great interest, and though it has been closely observed, and assiduously studied for a long period, and has given rise to theories as often absurd as sound, yet, even now, it is a fertile field for investigation, and will repay any who may come with the true spirit of inquiry, for there is much concerning it which is involved in mystery. Why do bees swarm at unseemly times? Why is the swarming spirit so excessive at times and so restrained at other seasons? These and other questions we are too apt to refer to erratic tendencies of the bees, when there is no question but that they follow naturally upon certain conditions, perhaps intricate and obscure, which it is the province of the investigator to discover. Who shall be first to unfold the principles which govern these, as all other actions of the bees?
In the spring or early summer, when the hive has become populous, and storing very active, the queen, as if conscious that a home could be overcrowded, and foreseeing such danger, commences to deposit drone-eggs in drone-cells, which the worker-bees, perhaps moved by like considerations, begin to construct, if they are not already in existence. In fact, drone comb is almost sure of construction at such times. No sooner is the drone brood well under way, than the large, awkward, queen-cells are commenced, often to the number of ten or fifteen, though there may be not more than three or four. In these, eggs are placed, and the rich royal jelly added, and soon, often before the cells are even capped—and very rarely before a cell is built, if the bees are crowded, the hives unshaded, the ventilation insufficient, or the honey-yield very bountiful—some bright day, usually about ten o'clock, after an unusual disquiet both inside and outside the hive, a large part of the worker-bees—being off duty for the day, and having previously loaded their honey-sacks—rush forth from the hive as if alarmed by the cry of fire, the queen among the number, though she is by no means among the first, and frequently is quite late in her exit. The bees, thus started on their quest for a new home, after many uproarious gyrations about the old one, dart forth to alight upon some bush, limb, or fence, though in one case I have known the first swarm of bees to leave at once, for parts unknown, without even waiting to cluster. After thus meditating for the space of from one to three hours, upon a future course, they again take wing and leave for their new home, which they have probably already sought out.
Some suppose the bees look up a home before leaving the hive, while others claim that scouts are in search of one while the bees are clustered. The fact that bees take a right-line to their new home, and fly too rapidly to look as they go, would argue that a home is preêmpted, at least, before the cluster is dissolved. The fact that the cluster remains sometimes for hours—even over night—and at other times for a brief period, would lead us to infer that the bees cluster, in waiting for a new home to be found. Yet, why do bees sometimes alight after flying a long distance, as did a first swarm the past season, upon our College grounds? Was their journey long, so that they must needs stop to rest, or were they flying at random, not knowing whither they were going?
If for any reason the queen should fail to join the bees, and perhaps rarely, when she is among them, they will, after having clustered, return to their old home. The youngest bees will remain in the old hive, to which those bees, if there are any such, which are abroad in quest of stores will return. The presence of young bees on the ground—those with flight too feeble to join the rovers—will always mark the previous home of the emigrants. Soon, in seven or eight days, perhaps rarely a little later, the first queen will come forth from her cell, and in two or three days she will or may lead a new colony forth, but before she does this, the peculiar note, known as the piping of the queen, may be heard. This piping sounds like peep, peep, is shrill and clear, and can be plainly heard by placing the ear to the hive, nor would it be mistaken. It is followed by a lower, hoarser note, made by a queen still within the cell.
Some have supposed that the cry of the liberated queen was that of hate, while that by the queen still imprisoned was either of enmity or fear. Never will an after-swarm leave, unless preceded by this peculiar note.
At successive periods of one or two days, one, two, or even three more colonies may issue from the old home. These last swarms will all be heralded by the piping of the queen. They will be less particular as to the time of day when they issue, as they have been known to leave before sun-rise, and even after sun-set. The well-known apiarist, Mr. A. F. Moon, once knew a swarm to issue by moon-light. They will, too, as a rule, cluster farther from the hive. The after swarms are preceded by the queen, and in case swarming is delayed, may be attended by a plurality of queens. Berlepsch and Langstroth both saw eight queens issue with a swarm, while, others report even more. These virgin queens fly very rapidly, so the swarm will seem more active and definite in their course than will first swarms.
The cutting short of swarming preparations before the second, third, or even the first swarm issues, is by no means a rare occurrence. This is effected by the bees' destroying the queen-cells, and sometimes by a general extermination of the drones, and is generally to be explained by a cessation of the honey yield. Cells thus destroyed are easily recognized, as they are torn open from the side, and not cut back from the end.
Swarming out at other times, especially in late winter and spring, is sometimes noticed by apiarists. This is due to famine, mice, or some other disturbing circumstance, which makes the hive intolerable to the bees.