that swarms depart only during the warmest part of the day, when a full third of the workers are busily engaged in the fields; these, returning home, resume their labours, and carry on the necessary operations of the hive. Besides, "the Queen has left an immense quantity of brood of all ages, which is soon hatched, and which renders the population as great after swarming as before. Thus the hive is perfectly capable of affording a second colony without being too much impoverished. The third and fourth swarms weaken it more sensibly, but the inhabitants always remain in sufficient numbers to preserve the course of their labours uninterrupted, and the losses are soon replaced by the great fecundity of the Queen. And, farther, many of those workers who, in the agitation of the moment, had followed the crowd, do not eventually become members of the new colony. When the delirium attendant on swarming seizes on the bees, the whole rush forward, accumulate towards the entrance of the hive, and are heated in such a degree that they perspire copiously; those near the bottom, and which support the weight of the rest, seem perfectly drenched, their wings grow moist, they are incapable of flight and, even when able to escape, they advance no farther than the alighting board of the hive, and soon return; those, too, that have lately left their cells, remain behind the swarm, still feeble, for they could not support themselves in flight; here, therefore, are also many recruits to people what we mav have thought a deserted habitation."[1]
- ↑ Huber, p. 165.
