That worker-bees and queen-bees should have an identical origin, and yet that the nature of the one is to live in perfect harmony, while the nature of the other is to be at perpetual war, is one of those mysterious things in bee-life which probably will never be explained. If the queen-bee of to-day can be really taken as an approximate type of the aboriginal female of her race, it is not difficult to understand that after her generation in force the communal life of the mother-stock would become an impossibility, and that with the mating-swarm its natural existence was brought to a close, much as we see it happen in wasp-life. It is during the quiet nights, after the issue of a swarm, that the peculiar shrill voice of the queen is most frequently heard. As she strives with the guards that surround the cells of the other young queens as yet unliberated, she continually utters this quick piping cry, and is immediately answered by the smothered cries of the imprisoned ones, who are just as anxious as she for the fray. If the swarming-fever is not yet allayed in the hive, this war-cry is bandied to and fro unceasingly; and the general ferment deepens, until, the condition of things having seemingly grown intolerable, the young queen rushes out, followed by the greater number of the bees. In the case of after-swarms, the concensus of evidence is in favour of the belief that the queen is really the leader of the party, although here again no positive rule is observed. It may happen, however, that the stock is sick of all the turbulence and unrest that have so long beset it, and that the general desire is to restore the _status quo_. Under these conditions the sounds from the hive may have a very different quality and meaning. The queen still sends forth her shrill challenge, but now her cry is immediately followed by a curious hissing sound from the bees. It is exactly as if they were shouting her down, compelling her to silence by their own uproar; and when the war-cry of the first liberated queen is thus met by a chorus of disapprobation, it seldom happens that the stock swarms again. In a few days the queen goes forth alone on her honeymooning adventures; and on her return she is allowed to indulge her penchant for sororicide to her heart’s content. CHAPTER XII THE COMB-BUILDERS IN the foregoing chapters an attempt has been made to show that the honey-bee lives and moves and has her being in a world which must be actuated by something better than mere instinct, in the common usage of the term. To the modern biologist—the earnest out-of-door student of life under all its manifestations—this may appear as a rather obvious and unnecessary gilding of gold, and the only question yet undecided may seem to be where in the scale of reason the honey-bee is to find her equitable place.