the terrible injury she had received. After this, however, I did not see her

any more.

Like many other insects, bees are much affected by light. One evening, having to go down to the cellar, I lit a small covered lamp. A bee which was out came to it, and, flying round and round like a moth, followed me the whole of the way there.

I often found that if bees which were brought to honey did not return at once, still they would do so a day or two afterwards. For instance, on July 11, 1874, a hot thundery day, and when the bees were much out of humour, I brought twelve bees to some honey: only one came back, and that one only once; but on the following day several of them returned.

My bees sometimes ceased work at times when I could not account for their doing so. October 19 was a beautiful, sunshiny, warm day. All the morning the bees were fully active. At 11.25 I brought one to the honeycomb, and she returned at the usual intervals for a couple of hours; but after that she came no more, nor were there any other bees at work. Yet the weather was lovely, and the hive is so placed as to catch the afternoon sun.

I have made a few observations to ascertain, if possible, whether the bees generally go to the same part of the hive. Thus,

October 5.-I took a bee out of the hive, fed her, and marked her. She went back to the same part.

October 9.-At 7.15 I took out two bees, fed and

marked them. They returned; but I could not see them in the same part of the hive. One, however, I found not far off.

At 9.30 brought out four bees, fed and marked them. One returned to the same part of the hive. I lost sight of the others.

Since their extreme eagerness for honey may be attributed rather to their anxiety for the commonweal than to their desire for personal gratification, it cannot fairly be imputed as greediness; still the following scene, described by Dr. Langstroth, and one which most of us have witnessed, is incompatible surely with much intelligence. No one can understand the extent of their infatuation until he has seen a confectioner's shop assailed by myriads of hungry bees. I have seen thousands strained out from the syrup in which they had perished; thousands more alighting even upon the boiling sweets; the floor covered and windows darkened with bees, some crawling, others flying, and others still so completely besmeared as to be able neither to crawl nor fly-not one in ten able to carry home its ill-gotten spoils, and yet the air filled with new hosts of thoughtless comers."1

If, however, bees are to be credited with any moral feelings at all, I fear the experience of all bee-keepers shows that they have no conscientious scruples about robbing their weaker brethren. 'If the bees of a strong stock,' says Langstroth, once get a taste of forbidden 1 Hive- and Honey-Bee, Langstroth, p. 277.

sweets, they will seldom stop until they have tested the strength of every hive.' And again, Some beekeepers question whether a bee that once learns to steal ever returns to honest courses.' Siebold has mentioned similar facts in the case of certain wasps (Polistes).

Far, indeed, from having been able to discover any evidence of affection among them, they appear to be thoroughly callous and utterly indifferent to one another. As already mentioned, it was necessary for me occasionally to kill a bee; but I never found that the others took the slightest notice. Thus on October 11 I crushed a bee close to one which was feeding-in fact, so close that their wings touched; yet the survivor took no notice whatever of the death of her sister, but went on feeding with every appearance of composure and enjoyment, just as if nothing had happened. When the pressure was removed, she remained by the side of the corpse without the slightest appearance of apprehension, sorrow, or recognition. She evidently did not feel the slightest emotion at her sister's death, nor did she show any alarm lest the same fate should befall her also. In a second case exactly the same occurred. Again, I have several times, while a bee has been feeding, held a second bee by the leg close to her; the prisoner, of course, struggled to escape, and buzzed as loudly as she could; yet the bee which was feeding took no notice whatever. So far, therefore, from being at all affectionate, I doubt whether bees are in the least fond of one another.

Their devotion to their queen is generally quoted as an admirable trait; yet it is of the most limited character. For instance, I was anxious to change one of my black queens for a Ligurian; and accordingly on October 26 Mr. Hunter was good enough to bring me a Ligurian queen. We removed the old queen, and we placed her with some workers in a box containing some comb. I was obliged to leave home on the following day; but when I returned on the 30th I found that all the bees had deserted the poor queen, who seemed weak, helpless, and miserable. On the 31st the bees were coming to some honey at one of my windows, and I placed this poor queen close to them. In alighting, several of them even touched her; yet not one of her subjects took the slightest notice of her. The same queen, when afterwards placed in the hive, immediately attracted a number of bees.

As regards the affection of bees for one another, it is no doubt true that when they have got any honey on them, they are always licked clean by the rest; but I am satisfied that this is for the sake of the

honey rather than of the bee. On September 27, for instance, I tried with two bees: one had been drowned, the other was smeared with honey. The latter was soon licked clean; of the former they took no notice whatever. I have, moreover, repeatedly placed dead bees by honey on which live ones were feeding, but the latter never took the slightest notice of the corpses.

Dead bees are indeed usually carried out of the

hive; but if one is placed on the alighting-stage, the others seem to take no notice of it, though it is in general soon pushed off accidentally by their movements. I have even seen the bees sucking the juices of a dead pupa.

As regards the senses of bees, it seems clear that they possess a keen power of smell.

On October 5 I put a few drops of eau de Cologne in the entrance of one of my hives, and immediately a number of bees (about fifteen) came out to see what was the matter. Rose-water also had the same effect; and, as will be mentioned presently, in this manner I called the bees out several times; but after a few days they took hardly any notice of the scent.

These observations were made partly with the view of ascertaining whether the same bees act as sentinels. With this object, on October 5 I called out the bees by placing some eau de Cologne in the entrance, and marked the first three bees that came out. At 5 P.M. I called them out again; about twenty came, including the three marked ones. I marked three more.

October 6.-Called them out again. Out of the first twelve, five were marked ones. I marked three more.

October 7.-Called them out at 7.30 A.M. as before.

Out of the first nine, seven were marked ones.

At 5.30 P.M. called them out again. Out of six, five were marked ones.

October 8.-Called them out at 7.15.

Six came out,

all marked ones.