“IN order to store the supply of honey and lodge the larv?, the bees build with their wax little rooms called cells, open at one end and closed at the other. They are six-sided and arranged with perfect regularity. In geometrical terms, each would be called a hexagonal prism, or a prism with six facets.
“Do not be surprised at this introduction of terms belonging to the beautiful and severe science of form—of geometry, in short. Bees are geometricians of consummate skill. Their constructions have required the exercise of the highest intelligence. All the power of human reason was necessary to follow, step by step, the insect’s science. I will return presently to this fine subject, a very difficult one, but I will try to make it intelligible to you.
“The cells are placed horizontally, back to back and end to end, in pairs, with the closed ends joining. Furthermore, they are arranged side by side in greater or less number, and they touch each other by their flat faces, each one of which serves as partition wall for two contiguous cells. The two layers of cells, back to back at their closed ends, constitute what is called a comb or honey-comb. On one side of this comb are found all the entrances to the cells of the corresponding layer; on the other side the cells of the second layer open. Finally, the honey-comb is suspended vertically in the hive, with half its openings to the right and half to the left. It adheres by its upper edge to the roof of the hive, or to the bars that cross it inside.
“One comb is not enough when the population is numerous; others are constructed like the first. The various combs, ranged parallel to one another, leave free intervening spaces. These are the streets, the public squares, the thoroughfares, on which the openings of the two layers of cells belonging to neighboring combs give, as the doors of our houses open on the right and left of a street. There the bees circulate, going from one door to another to deposit their honey in the cells used as storehouses, or to distribute nourishment to the young larv? lodged one by one in other cells. In these same public places they assemble when necessary, hold consultations, and deliberate on the affairs of the community. There, for example, among the nurses going from door to door to see whether the larv? need feeding, and the wax-bees rubbing themselves vehemently to extract the wax and begin to build, is plotted the extermination of the drones; there, when the birth of a new queen menaces the hive with civil war, the project of emigration ripens. There—But let us not anticipate. Let us return to the cells.”
“I am longing to know the whole of the strange story of the bees,” Jules broke in.
“Patience! First of all let us see how the cells are constructed. The bee that feels that it is supplied with the materials for making wax rubs itself and extracts a sheet of wax from the folds of its rings. With the little layer of wax between its teeth, that is to say between its two mandibles, it squeezes through the press of its comrades. ‘Let me pass,’ it seems to say; ‘see, I have something to work with.’ The crowd makes way. The bee takes its place in the middle of the workyard. The wax is kneaded between its mandibles, pounded to pieces, then flattened out into a ribbon, pounded again, and once more kneaded into a compact mass. At the same time it is impregnated with a kind of saliva that gives it flexibility. When the material is at the proper stage, the bee applies it bit by bit. To cut off the surplus, the mandibles serve as scissors; the antenn?, in continual motion, serve it as probe and measuring-compasses; they feel the wall of wax to judge of its thickness; they plunge into the cavity to find out its depth. What exquisite touch in this pair of living compasses, to bring to successful completion a construction so delicate and regular! Moreover, if the worker is a novice, master-bees are there to watch it with an experienced eye, to seize on the slightest fault at once and hasten to remedy it. The maladroit worker modestly steps aside and watches in order to learn. The trick learned, it sets to work again. With thousands of wax-bees working together, a comb two or three decimeters wide is often a day’s work.”
“You told us,” said Claire, “that the cells are especially remarkable for their geometrical arrangement.”
“I am just coming to that magnificent topic, but I shall treat it briefly, I warn you. You are far from being able to follow yet in its superior beauties the architecture of t............