The Bumblebee

Teacher’s Story

THERE seems to have been an hereditary war between the farm boy and the bumblebee, the hostilities usually initiated by the boy. Like many wars, it is very foolish and wicked, and has resulted in great harm to both parties. Luckily, the boys of to-day are more enlightened; and it is to be hoped that they will learn to endure a bee sting or two for the sake of protecting these diminishing hosts, upon which so many flowers depend for carrying their pollen; for of all the insects of the field, the bumblebees are the best and most needed friends of the flowers.

The bumblebees are not so thrifty and forehanded as are the honeybees, and do not provide enough honey to sustain the whole colony during the winter. Only the mother bees, or queens as they are called, survive the cold season. Just how they do it, we do not know, but probably they are better nourished and therefore have more endurance than the workers. In early May, one of the most delightful of spring visitants is one of these great buzzing queens, flying low over the freshening meadows, trying to find a suitable place for her nest; and the farmer or fruit grower who knows his business, is as anxious as she that she find suitable quarters, knowing well that she and her children will render him most efficient aid in growing his fruit and seed. She finally selects some cosy place, very likely a deserted nest of the field mouse, and there begins to build her home. She toils early and late, gathering pollen and nectar from the blossoms of the orchard and other flowers which she makes into a special kind of bee-bread, by mixing it with nectar. This is packed in an irregular mass and on it she lays a few eggs; each little bee grub, as soon as it hatches, burrows into the bee-bread, making a little cave for itself while satisfying its appetite. After it is fully grown, it spins about itself a cocoon and changes to a pupa, and later emerges a full-fledged worker bumblebee, being scarcely more than half as large as her queen mother. These workers or daughters of the family find full satisfaction in life in attending to the wants of the growing family. They gather more pollen and mix it with honey, making larger masses for the young to burrow in; meanwhile, the queen remains at home and devotes her energies to laying eggs for the enlargement of the colony. The workers not only care for the young, but later they strengthen the silken pupa cradles with wax, and thus make them into cells for storing honey. When we understand that the cells in the bumblebee’s nest are simply made by the young bees burrowing in any direction, we can understand why the bumblebee comb is so disorderly in the arrangement of its cells. Perhaps the boy of the farm would find the rank bumblebee honey less like the ambrosia of the gods, if he knew that it was stored in the deserted cradles and swaddling clothes of the bumblebee grubs.

All of the eggs in the bumblebee nest in the spring and early summer develop into workers which do incidentally the vast labor of carrying pollen for thousands of flowers; to these only is granted the privilege of carrying the pollen for the red clover, since the tongues of the other bees are not sufficiently long to reach the nectar. The red clover does not produce seed in sufficient quantity to be a profitable crop, unless there are bumblebees to pollinate its blossoms. Late in the summer, queens and drones are developed in the bumblebee nest, the drones, as with the honey-bees, being mates for the queens. But of all the numerous population of the bumblebee nest, only the queens survive the rigors of winter, and on them and their success depends the future of the bumblebee species.

There are many species of bumblebees, some much smaller than others, but they all have the thorax covered with plush above and the abdomen hairy, and their fur is usually marked in various patterns of pale yellow and black. The bumblebee of whatever species, has short but very active antennæ and a mouth fitted for biting as well as for sucking. Between the large compound eyes are three simple eyes. The wings are four in number and strong; the front legs are very short; all the legs have hairs over them and end in a three-jointed foot, tipped by a claw. On the hind leg, the tibia and the first tarsal joint are enlarged, making the pollen baskets on which the pollen is heaped in golden masses. One of the most interesting observations possible to make, is to note how the bumblebee brushes the pollen from her fur and packs it into her pollen baskets.