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The Worker

It is the worker-bee whose praises have been sounded from remotest times. It is her industry, her wisdom, and her virtues that have been sung, and it is of her the great French naturalist, Latreille, in his "History of Insects," is moved to exclaim, - "In the vast creation of insects, there is no one whose history presents to us such a prodigious number of wonders as that of the bee. In regard to industry, these insects are the chef d'œuvre of Worker. the creation; and man himself, so proud of his natural gifts, is in some degree humiliated at the view of the interior of a bee-hive."

The workers have smaller eyes than the drones and fewer smell-hollows in their antennæ, but these organs are better supplied with sensory hairs for feeling in flowers and comb cells, and their bodies are supplied with wonderful implements of usefulness that the drone knows nothing about. In short, the worker-bees are a brilliant illustration of the blessings bestowed by labor. It is their ability and their willingness to work which has enabled them to vie with the highest of the insect race, one is almost tempted to say of any race. Work is their joyfully accepted portion from the moment they leave the cradle cell until life passes from them.

The young bee, as she issues from her cell, is a pretty, baby-like creature, pale gray, covered with down, and weak in her actions. In two or three days she is in the heyday of strength and beauty. As she grows older and works harder, her youthful down wears off and she becomes darker and harder in appearance, for, as Moffett tells us, - "Their young ones be not very nice or tender, nor cockeringly brought up, for being but bare three days old, as soon as ever they begin to have wings, they enjoin them their task, and have an eye to them, that they be not idle, though never so little."

In reality, they do not have even three days' grace, for their wings are fully formed when they emerge from the cradle cell, and as soon as their damp hairs are dried and combed these mature infants proceed to " nurse" the everhungry occupants of the surrounding cradle cells. They stay at home as a rule for two or three weeks and do the "house-work" of the hive, removing dead bees and other foreign matter, attending the queen and feeding her, secreting wax, and building new combs, caring for the larvæ and ventilating the hive.

When first hatched the bee appears to have no desire to collect honey, not even storing it in the cells, when it is given to her. She must first serve her apprenticeship in the hive before the desire awakens to go forth to the honey fields.

The glands of the bee, as of other creatures, are more active in youth, consequently the young bee is best able to secrete the royal jelly and the wax. She is thus by nature a "nurse," and instinctively goes from cell to cell feeding her little larvæ foster-children from her abundant stores. Aristotle and Pliny say that bees sit upon their young like hens, and Packard tells us the same, though in more scientific terms. "The manner in which the bee performs her incubatory office is by placing herself upon the cell of a nymph (pupa) The Worker I 39 that is soon to be developed, and then beginning to respire at first very gradually. In a short time the respirations become more and more frequent, until at length they are increased to one hundred and twenty, or one hundred and thirty, per minute. "The body of the insect soon becomes of a high temperature, and, on close inspection, is often found to be bathed with perspiration. When this is the case the temperature of the insect soon becomes reduced, and the insect leaves the cell, and another bee almost immediately takes her place. When respiration is performed less violently, and consequently less heat is evolved, the same bee will often continue on a cell for many hours in succession. This extreme amount of heat was evolved entirely by an act of will in accelerating the respiratory efforts, a strong indication of the relation which subsists between the function of respiration and the development of animal heat."

The habit of placing a guard before their door, ascribed to the bees of antiquity, is the habit of the bees of to-day, as can be proved by striking the hive, when out rush the sentinels to learn the cause of the disturbance.

Sir John Lubbock ascertained by marking the bees that came out, and then calling them up at intervals, that the same ones stood on guard for at least several days in succession. "Bees," says Huber, "preserve a sufficient guard, day and night, at the entrance of their habitation. These vigilant sentinels examine whatever is presented, and, as if distrusting their eyes, they touch with the antennæ every individual endeavoring to penetrate the hive, and also the various substances put within their reach, which affords us an opportunity of observing that the antennæ are certainly the organs of feeling. If a stranger queen appears, her entry is prevented by the bees on guard instantly laying hold of her legs or wings with their teeth, and crowding so closely around her that she cannot move."

Worker-bees never sting a queen. Royalty hurls lance at royalty; but the common folk desiring to dispense with a royal personage politely but fatally cluster about her so closely that she is smothered to death.

When young bees leave the hive for the first time it is said they fly close to it for awhile to get their bearings and learn the exact locality of their home, and that when hives are moved the bees upon flying forth note the spot to which they are to return.

When bees enter a new hive their first care is to build the combs, those marvellous structures that have given the bee such a high place in man's regard.

A full meal and quiet favor wax production and bees leaving their old home always go with full honey sacs, to provide food for a time in case of need, and we may suppose to aid in the production of wax for the new combs. "When a swarm is placed in an empty hive," says Cheshire, "the bees climb the sides, and gradually and in close order advance along the roof, carefully securing themselves by the hooks (toes) of the fore-legs, in order to sustain the weight of lengthened chains of their comrades, formed by bee after bee hooking her fore-feet into the hind-feet of the one above. In this manner, the whole swarm will in an hour or so suspend itself in festoons, which are usually in part attached beneath to the neighborhood of the hive door, in order that an efficient guard may be kept up, and to give ready ladder-way should any arrive with supplies. "This arrangement complete, all is hushed in perfect stillness, no bee of the living chain moves, whilst a high temperature is sustained; and now the abundant food with which each emigrant charged herself before she left the old The Worker home comes under the process of conversion, and the wax distils copiously on to the surface of the thin membrane in the pockets. ... "The wax having been secreted a single bee starts the first comb, by attaching to the roof little masses of the plastic material, into which her scales are converted by prolonged chewing with secretion; others follow her example, and the process of scooping and thinning commence, the parts removed being always added to the edge of the work, so that, in the darkness, and between the bees, grows downward that wonderful combination of lightness and strength, grace and utility, which has so long provoked the wonder and awakened the speculation of the philosopher, the naturalist and the mathematician." - When the comb is fairly started and the first urgent necessity - that of supplying cells for the eggs is over, some of the bees hasten to the fields for honey and pollen, and only a portion concern themselves with further comb building.

It would seem that the production of wax is at least in part under the control of the bee, as in hives where artificial comb¹ is supplied the bees have been known not to secrete any wax, while on the other hand, during the height of the honey flow, in the hives where the bees build their own comb every worker bee in the colony seems to be supplied with wax scales, though these are not so abundant in the active bees as in those keeping still for the purpose, nor in the old foragers as in the young indoor bees. Although it requires from ten to sixteen pounds of honey to produce one of wax, such is the amazing economy exercised in the use of this precious material that one 1 " Artificial comb" explained later - it is made of bee's wax only the form, not the substance being artificially made. pound of it can store over thirty pounds of honey and it has been estimated that one pound of wax is moulded into from thirty-five to fifty thousand cells of worker comb. The scales of wax as formed on the abdomen are very thin, brittle, and fragile, quite unfit for building purposes. But after they have been thoroughly masticated and mixed with the saliva of the bee they become plastic and fit for use.

Bees give out much extra heat during the season of wax secretion, owing doubtless to the increased vital activity, and this high temperature is useful in keeping the wax plastic, as cold wax is more brittle and less easily moulded. The bee first lays down the wax in a mass, as it were, and then with jaws and proboscis proceeds to hollow out and build up the cells; scraping and moulding, drawing out the edges of the little six-sided cups that grow under her labors, pressing out the waxen sides so thin that they become transparent and the wonder grows that they are not broken in the operation.

The natural form of a transverse section of the comb cell seems to be circular instead of hexagonal, as is shown by comparison with the cells of bumble-bees, and other species that have not acquired the skill of the hive-bee, and as is also shown by the cells about the edge of the hive-bee's comb, which are rounded when not in contact with anything. These rounded cells on the edges can be seen in the little square boxes of honey so commonly sold.

When hive-bees work, the cells they build are so placed as to interfere with those on all sides of them and thus are modified from the circular to the hexagonal form, the form that allows the greatest number of cells in a given space, with the least expenditure of wax.

They stand a certain distance apart according to the The Worker size of the cells they are building and with no apparent order or design create a fabric marvellous for order and design.

Each inner cell when finished is a six-sided hollow prism, open at one end and closed at the other. No cell stands alone; excepting on the edges of the comb, each is surrounded by six others, and the walls of each are common to the adjoining cells.

The walls, although so thin, are water-tight, so that the enclosed nectar cannot pass from one cell to another. The comb of the hive-bee is two cells deep, the cells standing end to end and opening on opposite sides of the sheet of comb, each cell thus being easily accessible. In order that the honey may be the more readily retained the cells slant up a little and in addition are slightly curved. The partition X-Y, between the two sets of cells, is heavier than the side walls, and as the bottom of each cell is concave on the inside, the cells on opposite sides of the comb do not stand base to base, but the base of one X Y is so placed that the slanting walls of the bases of the opposite cells form its concavity. Thus upon looking down into an empty cell, the edges of three or sometimes four others are seen crossing back of its transparent base. Thus is greatly strengthened the bases which form the division wall between the two sets of cells. Bees do not place themselves in orderly ranks and work away each at its own cell, but each bee as it were comprehends the design of a honey-comb in a cake of wax and each contributes its share of labor to the whole without any apparent regard to law and order. "The finished comb is the result of the united efforts of the moving, restless mass," says Root, "and the great mystery is, that anything so wonderful can ever result at all, from such a mixed-up, skipping about way of working as they seem to have. ... "When the cells are built out only part way, they are filled with honey or eggs, and the length is increased when they feel disposed, or 'get around to it,' perhaps; as a thick rim is left around the upper edge of the cell, they have the material at hand, to lengthen it at any time. This thick rim is also very necessary to give the bees a secure foothold, for the sides of the cells are so thin, they would be very apt to break down with even the light weight of a bee. When honey is coming in rapidly, and the bees are crowded for room to store it, their eagerness is so plainly apparent, as they push the work along, that they fairly seem to quiver with excitement; but, for all that, they skip about from one cell to another in the same way, no one bee working in the same spot to exceed a minute or two, at the very outside. Very frequently, after one has bent a piece of wax a certain way, the next tips it in the opposite direction, and so on until completion; but after all have given it a twist or a pull, it is found in pretty nearly the right spot. "As near as I can discover they moisten the thin ribbons of wax, with some sort of fluid or saliva. As the bee always preserves the thick rib or rim of the comb he is working, the looker-on would suppose he was making the walls of a considerable thickness, but if we drive him away, and break this rim, we will find that his mandibles have come so nearly together that the wax between them, beyond the rim, is almost as thin as a tissue paper."

Thousands of bees pour in and out of the hive many times a day, thousands more swarm over the combs, each, The Worker untrammelled by rules, and with no set task, laboring at the general plan, storing a load in an empty cell, giving here and there a creating touch to the waxen fabric. No bee works for itself, no bee takes pride in its individual well-built cell. The multitude works as though it were one bee, and the joy of each is in the perfection of the whole.

When the cells are finished and are nearly full of honey they are allowed to remain open for a few days that the extra water may evaporate and the honey be properly cured. They are then sealed or capped over with wax and the work is done.

Honey-comb cells are not mathematically regular in size or shape, as was formerly believed, but vary a great deal in different combs.

The old belief that honey-comb cells were perfectly uniform in size led some enterprising spirits to suggest them as convenient standards of measurement, but experiment showed such great diversity that they were forced to content themselves with the earth's meridian, which, though less convenient, is less variable.

Variation in size and shape of cells is universal; not only are the worker always smaller than the drone cells but those between the two are graduated from the smaller to the larger while the honey-comb cells often differ in size and shape. Often irregular cells are built in to fill an unoccupied space and queen cells show very great irregularity of form, size, and position, having been found on almost all parts of the comb, though as a rule they are built on the edges out of the way.

The queen cells have much thicker walls than the other cells and are built of odds and ends of wax, often chippings from an old comb, so that they are seldom clean and beautiful like the other cells. IO The wonderful regularity of honey-comb is a beautiful tribute to the skill of the tiny workers, while its slight but universal irregularities show it to be the work of intelligence rather than of an unreasoning machine.

The length of the cells differs far more than the diameter. The depth of brood cells is quite uniform, for it would not do to take many liberties with the cradle of the bee, but the honey cells are sometimes built out until they are two or even three times the length of the brood cells, forming long curved galleries. Where the space between the combs is great the cells are very apt to be built out, making their surfaces irregular and the honey difficult to handle. Even in the boxes arranged for the bees to build in, in the modern hives, the honey-comb is sometimes built out beyond the wooden edge of the box, so that it cannot be transported safely.

Bees generally hang their combs parallel to each other, but they do not so generally hang the whole mass parallel to the side of their hive if left to their own devices. In fact they seem to prefer combs placed diagonally, and will even fasten one comb to another in such a way that it is impossible to remove the combs unbroken.

Bee-keepers take the liberty of interfering with combbuilding in these days and by suspending frames in the hive compel the bees to build their combs parallel to the side of the hive and to each other. These frames often contain a sheet of wax known as "foundation," and this is frequently stamped by machinery to represent the bases of the cells. The bees accept this assistance in good part, and falling upon the sheet of wax draw it out into cells, without attempting to change its position. Even a small piece of foundation hung in a frame will often serve to start them in a given direction.

More than this, men having observed that bees eagerly The Worker fill extra space with pure honey, when the brood is supplied, have placed extra compartments containing foundation or even empty combs above the brood hive, leaving an entrance into the upper part from the hive below and in these "supers" the bees often store a phenomenal quantity of pure honey, which of course is claimed by man as a reward for his ingenuity, and which even from the bee's point of view one should think might belong fairly to man in return for his care of the colony.

The little boxes of honey bought in the stores are frames taken from these upper stories.

When comb is first built it is extremely beautiful, being white and transparent. But the bees use the same cells over and over, both for brood and provisions, so in time comb left in the hive becomes dark-colored and less attractive in appearance, in old bee trees being sometimes almost black.

The brood combs are built first and are generally hung on the side nearest the entrance to the hive while the extra stores are placed behind or above the brood.

Honey is a luxury coveted by many creatures willing to steal into the hive and appropriate it, so it is placed as far out of reach as possible.

The brood is placed in the centre of the comb and close about it is stored the mixture of pollen and honey known as "bee-bread" which the nurses feed to the young.

The bee-bread, like the honey, is gathered from the flowers by the older bees or "foragers," whose work outside the hive is very different from that within, and consists in carrying home stores of honey, pollen, "propolis" and water.

A bee gathering pollen is very different in action from one gathering honey, as she rushes wildly over the flower heads, "kicking up a dust" in a very literal sense. She J gathers this flower dust on the hairs of her body and then stands and combs it out with her numerous combs and brushes, deftly and quickly moistening it with honey when necessary to knead it together, and passes it from leg to leg until she has finally combed and scraped and rolled and patted it into her pollen baskets. Then home she hies. But we must let John Burroughs tell the rest. "When a bee brings pollen into the hive, he advances to the cell in which it is to be deposited and kicks it off as one might his overalls or rubber boots, making one foot help the other; then he walks off without ever looking behind him; another bee, one of the indoor hands, comes along and rams it down with his head and packs it into the cell as the dairy-maid packs butter into a firkin."

If the bee has likewise a load of honey to deposit, she stands over another cell one devoted to honey - and into this disgorges her precious drop of nectar.

The The bee's first care in the spring is to get fresh pollen. This it seems to need more than honey and the polleny willow catkins are alive with the eager provisioners. willow gives honey too, and whoever will take the trouble to explore a willow catkin with a magnifying glass will be rewarded by a view of the pearly drop in each tiny flowerlet. Sometimes the bee-keeper helps out the pollen pantry in the early spring by giving his bees a supply of - rye flour or oatmeal! They are usually willing to substitute it for pollen, though it is difficult to understand how it can compare with it in nutrient value.

We of to-day know very little about bee-bread, as it never is sold in the markets. But a generation ago people were as familiar with the flavor of bee-bread as of honey. In the old-fashioned box hives where the bees did everything for themselves, and all in one large room, he who "robbed" the bees found bee-bread and honey oftentimes in all the The Worker combs, and the brood comb scattered about with the rest. Bee-bread and honey were spread together on the slices of bread for the children's delectation, and if the flavor of the bee-bread was somewhat against the delicacy of the feast the enjoyment of the children was not sensibly lessened thereby.