wits about them throughout the general chaos. And with these wiser virgins must be reckoned the queen, in spite of the fact that she joins in the public excitement and restlessness. For some days before the great emigration her work of egg-laying is largely arrested, and this retentive action renders her so heavy and bulky that often she can scarcely get on the wing. The object of this is that she may be all the more ready for laying when the new home is established. It is also well ascertained that all swarming bees have their honey-sacs well filled, and this loading up for the journey takes place just before the signal for departure is given. There is great variation in the behaviour of the different stocks in a bee-garden during the swarming season, and many close observers are unable to detect any sure signs that a particular hive is going to swarm. But it appears fairly well established that, when a swarm is imminent, nearly all the bees of that stock remain at home, even when all other hives in the garden are in full foraging activity. Such a hive gives out a peculiar throbbing note, which suggests the noise made by a powerful locomotive brought to a standstill, but with full steam up, and impatient to be gone. Just before the issue of the swarm there is often a curious lull in this pent-up, forceful sound, and probably this is the moment when the travellers are lading themselves up for the march. Immediately after—and here it is difficult not to believe that a definite, authoritative signal for the movement is given—a sudden stir and tumult begins in the centre of the crowded hive, much like that caused by a heavy stone cast into water. This radiates swiftly in all directions until it reaches the bees near the entrance, and then the general rush for the daylight starts. Where a hive is much overcrowded there will already be a cluster of bees numbering many thousands packed tightly together on the alighting-board, and sometimes covering the whole face of the hive. But this mass melts away directly the swarming begins, the waiting bees taking wing all but simultaneously with the others. It was anciently believed that the queen led the swarm, but this view is not borne out by modern observation. As often as not half the bees are on the wing before she makes her appearance, and sometimes she is among the very latest to leave, or she may decide at the last moment not to go at all. In this case the bees do not cluster, but after a few minutes’ wild tarantelle in the sunshine they all troop back to the hive.