ine
them in the Spring, to ascertain that they have honey and are in
possession of a fertile queen. If they need food they are supplied with
it, (see Chapter on Feeding,) and if they are feeble or queenless, they
are managed according to the directions previously given. Bees seem to
have an instinctive perception of the weakness of a colony, and like the
bee-moth, they are almost certain to attack such stocks, especially when
they have no queen. Hence I can almost always tell that a colony is
queenless, by seeing robbers constantly attempting to force an entrance
into it.

It requires some knowledge of the habits of bees, to tell from their
motions, whether they are flying about a strange hive with some evil
intent, or whether they belong to the hive before which they are
hovering. A little experience however, will soon enable us to
discriminate between the honest inhabitants of a hive, and the robbers
which so often mingle themselves among the crowd. There is an
unmistakable air of roguery about a thieving bee, which to the observing
Apiarian, proclaims the nature of his calling, just as truly as the
appearance of a pickpocket in a crowd, enables the experienced police
officer to distinguish him from the honest folks, on whom he intends to
exercise his skill.

There is a certain sneaking look about a rogue of a bee, almost
indescribable, and yet perfectly obvious. It does not alight on the
hive, and boldly enter at once like an honest bee which is carrying home
its load. If they could only assume such an appearance of transparent
honesty, they would often be allowed by the unsuspecting door-keepers to
enter unquestioned, to see all the sights within, and to help themselves
to the very fat of the land. But there is a sort of nervous haste, and
guilty agitation in all their movements: they never alight boldly upon
the entrance board, or face the guards which watch the passage to the
hive; they know too well that if caught and overhauled by these trusty
guardians of the hive, their lives would hardly be worth insuring; hence
their anxiety to glide in, without touching one of the sentinels. If
detected, as they have no password to give, (having a strange smell,)
they are very speedily dealt with, according to their just deserts. If
they can only effect a secret entrance, those within take it for granted
that all is right, and seldom subject them to a close examination.

Sometimes bees which have lost their way, are mist