The first flight of the drones is a stirring event in the bee-garden. The common sound of the hives goes on practically the whole year through. Every sunny midday, when the temperature mounts to 45° or 50°, will see each hive the centre of a little galaxy of singers: it is only the volume of the music that varies with the waxing or waning days. But with the coming of the drones the whole symphony of the bee-garden abruptly changes. They never move from their snug indoor quarters until the day is wearing on towards noon, and then only in the brightest weather. Blundering aggressively through the crowd of busy foragers, they rise heavily on the wing, and soon the ordinary note of the garden is drowned in the new uproar. They seem to come almost simultaneously from all hives at once. For a minute or two the rich, hoarse melody holds the air; and then, almost as suddenly, it dies away, as these roystering ne’er-do-wells troop off over hill and dale, each to his favourite hunting-ground. There is great divergence of opinion as to the limits of flight of the drone, but probably he goes farther and faster than any have yet credited. His magnificent stretch and strength of wing mark him for a flier. He is all brute force and lusty energy; and it would be strange if, with but one thing to do in life—to gad about in search of amorous adventure—he could not do it to a purpose. If a hive of bees be removed to a distance in the height of the season, some of both workers and drones are sure to find their way back to the old spot. This has constantly taken place when hives have been carried no farther than two miles. But in one case, when the distance was more than twice as much, no workers were seen round the old hive-station, yet a little company of drones was winging aimlessly about the tenantless stool, and there can be little doubt that these belonged to the removed colony. It is not suggested that they deliberately travelled all these miles. The chances are that, in their daily flight, they got so far away from the new station that they came within the zone of old landmarks, and thus naturally went on by the long-accustomed ways.