Domesticated Animals Part 6

Next after the c.o.c.ks and hens the most important birds of economic value have come from the water fowl. In this field there are great opportunities for domestication, only a few of which have been adequately used. The aquatic birds, save for the fact that they are in all cases inspired with a more or less strong migratory humor, lend themselves to the shaping hand of man more readily than most other forms. These creatures have the habit of a.s.sociation in a much more perfect way than our ground birds. They normally dwelt in rather close order and in relations which are necessarily very sympathetic. Whoever has watched the flight of wild geese must have remarked the beautiful way in which they arrange at once for close companions.h.i.+p and for safety in the violent movements which impel their heavy bodies at high speed through the air. In the order of their flight the alignment is more perfect than in the march of trained soldiers. Each bird keeps as near to his neighbor as possible; but manages always to preserve the interval which will insure against a collision of the strong and swift-moving wings, an accident which might well disable them for flight. I have repeatedly undertaken to confound their motion by firing a rifle bullet at the head of the moving wedge. Although the sound of the projectile, if well directed, will disturb their processional order, it never brings confusion. The startled birds sink down or rise above the plane of the air in which their comrades are moving, but they never strike against them.

[Ill.u.s.tration: An Eider Colony]

The admirable sense of interval which the wild birds exhibit in their flight is to be seen also when they move over the surface of the water, where the fleet of living forms is always so arranged that each individual does not interfere with its neighbor. I recall with much pleasure an occasion when, from a s.h.i.+p becalmed in a thick fog off the southern sh.o.r.e of Labrador, within sound of the breakers, I undertook to find something about the lay of the land and the chance of harborage by paddling in a small boat toward the sh.o.r.e. I had hardly lost sight of the s.h.i.+p when my boat glided into an a.s.semblage of eider ducks, where the mothers, with their fledgling young, were lazily swimming to and fro, as if to practise the ducklings in the art of swimming. Each brood appeared to have its own s.p.a.ce of water, and between each of the chicks there was likewise a less but equally well measured interval. The same features of orderly a.s.sociation, which I have just noted in the swimming and flying of these wild birds, may be seen in a somewhat degraded state in our domesticated varieties of the group. They all indicate in these forms a keen sense of their neighbors and a habit of a.s.sociation based upon sympathetic emotions.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Terns Aiding a Wounded Comrade]

The sympathetic quality of our water fowl, at least in that part of the emotion which leads them to be concerned with the afflictions of their species, appears to be more distinct than in the case of our ordinary barnyard fowl. Geese, as is well known, will make common cause against an intruder from whom harm to the flock may be expected.

Their simultaneous din when anything occurs to arouse their enmity is commemorated in the ancient myth concerning the aid which they gave in the defence of the walls of Rome. There are anecdotes apparently well attested where water fowl have borne away a wounded comrade which had fallen before the huntsman's fowling-piece. In Smiles's "Life of Edwards" there is an often-quoted story which appears to be trustworthy and sufficiently ill.u.s.trates this point. A hunter, having shot one of a flock of terns, which fell wounded into the water near the sh.o.r.e, waded in to seize it. Suddenly two of the terns came to their wounded companion, seized him by either wing, and bore him toward the open sea. When these two helpers were weary, the sufferer was lowered into the water, and, in turn, seized by two other birds which were fresh for the labor. Working in succession, these birds carried their companion to a rock some distance from the sh.o.r.e. When the hunter endeavored to approach the rock, yet others of the species seized the cripple and bore him far beyond reach.

Although too much value must not be given to the numerous anecdotes concerning the sagacity of water fowl, the great ma.s.s of these stories, as compared with the poverty of the anecdotes concerning the better-known barnyard creatures, seems to establish the fact that their intelligence is much greater than that of the land birds. This superiority can probably be attributed to the fact that their life requires much more definite adaptation of means to ends than in the simpler conditions which are met by the forms which dwell in the fields.

The circ.u.mstances of their life are something like those of the seals among mammals. They have to do with the conditions of the air, the land, and the water; and as they generally undertake long migrations, the range of the things they have to accommodate themselves to is great, and the effect of their labor is decidedly educative.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Some Recent Additions to the Poultry Yard: Wood Duck, China Goose, Australian Swan, Canada Goose]

As yet, from the great number of species of water fowl man has really domesticated but two characteristic groups, the species of geese and of ducks. Swans have been brought to a state where they tolerate the presence of man, though they rarely establish any really intimate relations with him. Some other species, as, for instance, the grebe, have been taught to dwell about the homes of man, accepting food from his hands. It is likely that more of these water fowl would have come into human a.s.sociations were it not for the fact that they are naturally migratory, and when, after a season of domestication, they join a pa.s.sing flock, they never return to the place where they have been kept.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Swans]

The swan, like the peac.o.c.k, has been bred for ornament rather than for use. In fact, the bird has no other merit than its exceeding grace.

We cannot believe that much pains was ever taken with this creature to break up the migratory instincts which are common in the wild kindred species. We have to suppose that the bird in its pristine form was without the impulse to undertake distant journeys in the winter season, or that it abandoned ancient habits with no great difficulty.

We obtain some light on this point by noting the fact that among the migratory species it not infrequently happens that, while the greater number of individuals undertake the annual journey, certain of them will remain on the ground where they were born. Those which remain would be more likely to mate with those which were like-minded than with others that journeyed afar. In this way small local breeds might well be originated which would differ from their migratory kindred not only in the measure of the wandering instincts, but in the capacity for flight which their kindred preserve. There is some reason to believe that this process of selection naturally and somewhat frequently takes place. In certain cases it may lay the foundation of new species, or at least of distinct varieties; more commonly, however, the individuals which have abandoned the migratory life are likely to perish from the severity of climate or the other unfavorable conditions that their mates avoid by their wanderings.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Original Wild Rock Dove (_Columba livia_) and Some of its Domestic Descendants]

Although many of the free-flying birds of the land are or have been kept captive because of the pleasure which men have found from their songs, their grace, or their quaint ways, only one of these has really been gained to domestication. In the pigeon, man has made what is on many accounts the most remarkable of all his conquests over the wild nature about him. While the breeder's art has led many forms, some of them on several divergent lines, far away from their primitive estate, in no other field has it accomplished such surprising results as with the doves. The original wild form of this group is a native of Europe and Asia, where the species _Columba livia_, or rock pigeon, is still common, and whence it may be readily won anew to domestication. It is a small, plain-colored, rather invariable and inconspicuous bird about the size of our American dove. In its wild state it dwells in small flocks, nesting by preference in the crannies of the cliffs, and exhibiting no striking qualities which make it seem a desirable subject for domestication. We note, however, that even in this primitive condition the creature has certain physical and mental qualities which have been the basis of its adoption by man as well as of the wide changes which it has undergone at his hands.

It is a characteristic of all the doves that their young are born in a very immature state, and for some time after they come from the egg they have to be supplied with food which has been partly digested in the crop or upper part of the stomach of the parent. For the proper rearing of the brood there is required the a.s.siduous care of both parents.

Therefore quite naturally we find among these birds that the pairing habit is well developed, and as they rear several broods each season, that the mating is for life. Although there are numbers of birds in various orders which are accustomed to the monogamic habit, it happens that the pigeon is the only animal which man has ever won to true domestication in which the s.e.xes can be thus permanently united. In the dovecote, however many birds it may contain, the breeder can be always sure as to the parentage of the young which he is rearing. This affords an admirable basis for the practice of his art, which is still further favored by the fact that pigeons reproduce rapidly and the progeny are ready to mate in a few months after they come into the world. Thus the species affords really ideal conditions for that process of selection on which the improvement of all domesticated animals intimately depends.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Turtle Doves]

Selective breeding of pigeons began in India, as the records seem to show, more than two thousand years ago. Though other animals have been brought to domestication at much earlier times, this appears to have been the first of them to be subjected to deliberate efforts on the part of their masters, which were intended to bring about in a methodical way certain changes in their forms and habits. The most curious part of this great endeavor which has been applied to breeding pigeons is found in the fact that the ends sought have no utility, but afford satisfaction from the point of view of pure diversion or the gratification of taste.

We are well accustomed to the action of such motives upon our flowering plants of the garden, but the pigeon is the only animal where fancy has labored for thousands of years for its gratification. The breeders of pigeons from remote antiquity to the present day appear to have had no definite purpose in all their pains. They have taken the chance variations in form and habit and endeavored to extend these sports of nature by a careful system of mating those in which the singular features were most evident. Thus the fan-tail breed has been developed until the creatures display their unornamental tail feathers with all the dignity with which a peac.o.c.k shows his marvellous decorations. The pouters have in some unaccountable way learned to take air into their crop; and the habit has been developed by selection until the bird destroys all trace of his original shapeliness, though he seems to take pride in his diseased appearance. The tumbler, probably derived from some ancestor afflicted with a disease of an epileptic character, manages to go through his convulsions in the air without serious consequences and apparently with some pleasure to himself. There are over one hundred less conspicuous varieties, of which only one deserves notice, and this for the reason that it has some possible utility to man and is now much attended to. This is known as the carrier pigeon.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Giant Crowned Pigeon of India]

In early time, before the invention of the railway and telegraph, some ingenious breeder of pigeons, observing the constant way in which these creatures returned to the place where they were bred, invented the plan of using them to convey information. This service was found convenient not only for ordinary correspondence, but was exceedingly valuable where a place was beleaguered by an enemy. In such cases carrier pigeons could often be used to convey information across the otherwise impa.s.sable lines. Even in modern times, as, for instance, during the last siege of Paris, these swift and sure flying birds proved of great use in keeping up communications between the people of the invested town and the French armies in the field. Letters in cipher, sometimes photographed down until the characters were microscopically fine, were made into packages of small weight in order not to impede the flight of the bird, carefully affixed to its body, and thus sent away. Very generally these curious s.h.i.+pments came to the hands of those for whom they were destined. The birds can be trusted to fly at night; they retain for a long time the memory of their home, and spare no pains to return to it.

The homing power of the carrier pigeon appears to be a special development of a natural capacity, as is also its swiftness and endurance in flight. Our other breeds and the wild species whence they have all come are not disposed to undertake long journeys; they rarely, indeed, wander far from their abiding places. Our experience with the carriers shows how readily the creatures may be educated to perform feats which they were not accustomed to do in their wild state.

Something of the same elasticity of const.i.tution may be observed in the bodies of our pigeons as they have been affected by selection. Not only has the plumage been greatly altered by the breeder's art and in pursuance of his plans, but the form and proportions of the bones have coincidently and unintentionally been greatly changed. So considerable are these alterations that if these creatures were submitted for dissection to a naturalist who knew nothing of the history of the bird, he would have no hesitation in cla.s.sing them as belonging not only in different species, but as members of diverse genera.

It must be regarded as unfortunate that the experiments which have been made on pigeons have been limited to their features of form, color, and slight peculiarities in their habits. If the breeders had sought to modify the intellectual parts with anything like the insistence which they have given to the development of these bodily peculiarities, we might now have a most valuable store of knowledge as to the limitations of animal minds. The facts gained in the breeding of the carriers show clearly that certain of the instincts of these birds can be readily modified. There is every reason to suppose that their mental capacities in other directions have something of the same pliability.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The English Pheasant]

Although the pigeon is the only free-flying form which has been won to intimate relations with man, there are numerous other species of these volant creatures which have been reduced to partial domestication, though they cannot be trusted to abide with us without being more or less completely caged. Experience has shown that by far the greater part of the arboreal birds may be kept and will breed in captivity. From the host of these feathered creatures men have from time to time selected species which grace their habitations by their beauty, their song, or by the sympathetic relations which they form with their captors. Our successes in these efforts toward domestication of these birds have been most eminent with those varieties which in their wilderness state have a well-developed social life, which abide in families or flocks, and have the pairing habit well affirmed. The reason for this has been already indicated. It is due to the sympathetic motive which is developed in such communal life, and is manifested in the friendly relations with each other which the creatures maintain. A good instance of this is to be found in the crows and their kindred, a group of extremely sociable creatures, which are endlessly engaged in chattering communications with each other. All these forms are highly domesticable, and if for any reason they had proved permanently attractive to men they would doubtless have been brought into the state of willing captives.

Although some of the free-flying or tree birds have been kept for their beauty alone, the greater part of them have commended themselves to man because of their voices. It is hardly necessary to tell the reader that the birds, of all animals, are most provided with means of expression through the voice. There is hardly a species which has not a greater range of notes or calls than the most vocal of our wild mammals, and many varieties are impelled to tuneful expression in a measure which no other creature, not even man, exhibits. In most cases these utterances are pleasing to the human ear, for they have the quality which we term musical. Therefore it is not surprising that the most of our captive birds have been chosen for their song.

It seems clear that the song of birds, like their calls--the two shade indefinitely into each other--expresses a sympathetic emotional consciousness of the actions going on about them, particularly of the life of their kind. In general these utterances are directed toward their kindred of their own species. In many cases, however, as among the imitative birds, the sounds which they utter indicate a curiously keen interest in the actions of their masters or other human affairs. The mocking-birds and some other species will, with great a.s.siduity, endeavor to copy any sound which they happen to hear. I well remember watching a mocking-bird which was listening with rapt attention to the noise produced by a man sharpening a saw with a file. The poor bird would hearken with great attention until he thought he had caught the note, and then endeavor to reproduce it. As may be imagined, the measure of his success was small. He was fully conscious of his failure, and would beat himself about the cage in evident chagrin, returning again and again to try the hopeless task.

Wherever the vocal organs of caged birds permit them to imitate human speech they are apt to devote a large part of their labor to this task, paying little attention to other less meaningful sounds. It appears to me that they perceive in a way the sympathetic character of language and therefore take a peculiar pleasure in copying it. It is hardly to be believed that they ever get a sense of the connotative value of words, but it is not to be doubted that they sometimes attain to a certain appreciation of the denotation of simpler phrases. In this task they do not exhibit as much sagacity as the dog, a creature which learns to understand the purport of rather complicated sentences. Nevertheless, their capacity for imitating speech is a fascinating peculiarity, one which has greatly endeared them to bird fanciers.

Those who have observed the talking birds have doubtless noted the fact that their capacity for remembering and uttering words varies greatly. I am inclined to think that in the same species some individuals can do such tasks several times as easily as others. If these speaking forms could be brought to breed in captivity, and something like the selective care were given to their development that has been devoted to the varieties of pigeons, we might well expect to attain very remarkable results. If anywhere in the animal world there is a chance to open communication by means of speech with the lower creatures, it should be here.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Falconer's Favorite--Peregrine Falcon]

At one time among our ancestors it was accustomed to make much use of the larger hawks in hunting. Curiously enough this amus.e.m.e.nt, more refined and elaborated than any other form of the chase, has gradually fallen into disuse among Europeans. So far as I have been able to learn, the only region in which it is well preserved is in northern Africa, a country in which the custom was probably introduced from Spain during the occupancy of that peninsula by the Moors. From the literature of this art of hawking, even after we allow much for the exaggeration of un.o.bservant men, it seems certain that the training of these fierce birds was carried to a point of singular perfection. The creatures learned to do their duty in a very skilful way, and they readily acquired habits of obedience, under circ.u.mstances of excitement, more perfect than those which we succeed in instilling in any animal but the dog. When we consider the natural qualities of the hawk, and note that when well trained he flew at only the designated game, and came back to the master when a bit of hide or other lure was thrown into the air as a signal, we may fairly believe that the creature displayed an extraordinary fitness for receiving instruction. The facts are the more remarkable because these hawks were not bred in cages, but were taken from the wild nests; so that there was none of that gradual acc.u.mulation of inheritances under the conditions of selection which have brought about the obedience of our really domesticated animals.

The remarkable way in which the art of hawking has disappeared from our civilization deserves more than a pa.s.sing notice, though it appears to be inexplicable. It is evident that it was a tolerably ingrained habit, at least among the English-speaking people, for it has left a very deep impress upon the language. There are far more phrases derived from the custom than can be traced to any other of the sportsman's arts. At least one of these collocations of words which has escaped from the minds of grown people still holds a place among the boys of this country. When two lads are fighting we often hear the bystanders say, by the way of encouragement to one of the contestants, "Give him jesse." The use of this curious phrase prevails in all parts of the United States, but after much inquiry I have failed to find a trace of it preserved in England. There seems to be little doubt that these words are due to a custom of beating a hawk which failed to do its duty with the thongs or jesses by which it was attached to the wrist of the falconer. Giving another jesse thus came to be equivalent to giving a person a strapping.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Bandit's Brood]

Whatever may have been the reason for abandoning this beautiful and in a way n.o.ble sport, its disuse must be deemed most unfortunate by all the students of animal intelligence, for it has deprived us of precious opportunities in the way of observations on the mental peculiarities which exist in a most interesting group of birds. In these days, when there is a fancy for reviving the customs of our forefathers, it might be well for some persons of leisure to give their attention to restoring the arts of falconry. Enough of the practice and of the traditions is left to make it an easy task to reinst.i.tute all the important parts of the custom. Moreover, those who essayed the matter would have access to a much greater range of rapacious birds than our forefathers, who had to content themselves with the limited number of wild species which inhabit the continent of Europe. Especially on our Western plains, where game-birds abound and the country lies wide open, sportsmen would find an admirable field in which to follow the bird they flew. Not only would the restoration of hawking give us a sport much more skilful and refined than the fox chase, but it would reintroduce the cultivation of the only creature which, having once been brought to the service of man, has been permitted to return to its ancestral wild life.

The most striking and by far the most interesting quality exhibited by our birds is found in their sympathetic motive. In this spiritual quality, so far as it relates to their own kind, the feathered creatures are clearly in advance of all other species, including even man. A single fact, one of great generality, will serve to make this statement clear. Among the birds we find the only cases of true marriage which are known in the animal kingdom. In the greater number of the species the union is for a season, but among many it is for life. In the case of certain varieties of paroquets, the union is so indissoluble that, according to common report, a report which seems much better verified than the most of those concerning the habits of animals, neither member of the pair will survive the death of the other. Man, with all his striving towards a better social state, has, as a whole, not yet attained to the enduring affection for the mate which is evinced by the greater part of the birds.

In this same connection, we may note that the aesthetic appreciation among the birds appears to have attained a far higher level than it has won in any other creatures. There can be little doubt that the exquisitely beautiful plumage, the unparalleled shapeliness of form and grace of carriage, as well as the melodies which are uttered by so many species, all owe their development to a process of s.e.xual selection which has led the discerning females to prefer the more ornamental of the males who sought them as partners. If any one will examine the exquisite shapes and gradations of color which are exhibited in the tail of the peac.o.c.k, or of the lyre-bird, or even the coloration of the game-c.o.c.k, he may perhaps imagine how prodigious must be the development of the aesthetic sense in these species, in order that it may take account of every little betterment which leads towards more perfect beauty. As it will take the generations of aesthetes many generations before they are able to "live up to" the level of their culture which is attained by the peac.o.c.k's tail, it is not unreasonable for us to hold that in the appreciation of simple beauty in form and in color, the birds are far ahead of ourselves. It must not be supposed that our aesthetic culture is to be reckoned below that of birds, though in our case the work embodies the delineation of ideas, while in the birds it is a matter of pure ornament. Nevertheless, taking the evidence which shows the way in which these creatures appreciate beauty in the three realms of form, color, and sound, it seems to me clear that while their intellectual life is low, their purely emotional experiences are probably more vivid than those of ordinary men.

As the joy of life is, in the main, even in ourselves the result of emotional experiences, we may fairly reckon, even on _a priori_ ground, that the birds win a measure of happiness, though it be that of an unconscious kind, which is granted to no other living beings.

Psychologically described, they might well be termed the group built for joy. Their bodies are, on the whole, the best constructed of all animals, except the insects. They suffer little from disease. We all see that their intercourse with each other is freer and merrier than that of other creatures. The wide range of their notes shows that in most forms they appreciate every little difference in the pleasure-giving changes of the day or the weather. They rejoice in the coming of each morning; they are sorrowful with the advent of each evening. They echo the distress of their kind in a readier way than any other forms. He is indeed a poor naturalist who overlooks this trait; for however deeply he may have delved, he has not won the jewel unless he appreciates this element of an unending joy which the bird-life continually offers him. From that life we may well believe that man is hereafter to derive some great and fruitful lessons.

USEFUL INSECTS

Relations of Man to Insect World.--But Few Species Useful to Man.--Little Trace of Domestication.--Honey-bees: their Origin; Reasons for no Selective Work; Habits of the Species.--Silkworms: Singular Importance to Man; Intelligence of Species.--Cochineal Insect.--Spanish Flies.--Future of Man relative to Useful Insects.

Although the relations of man to the insect world are prevailingly those of hostility, there are a few of these mult.i.tudinous creatures which have been more or less completely adopted into his great society.

Although not more than half a dozen out of the million or more species in this subkingdom have thus been brought to the uses of civilization, the forms are interesting not only for what they give, but for the promise of further contributions when this great problem of winning help from the insect world receives adequate consideration.

As a whole, the insects are not well fitted to serve the needs of man.

Owing to certain peculiarities in their organic laws they, fortunately for ourselves, are very limited in size. Although some of them afford savory food and are occasionally eaten by savages, and even by civilized folk when pressed by hunger owing to the famines which the invasions of these animals occasionally produce, they can never be of any value as sources of provisions, except through the stores which they acc.u.mulate in the manner of the bees. All that we have won, or are likely to win, from this realm is from the filaments which the creatures spin, the wax or honey which they acc.u.mulate, the coloring or other matters which their bodies afford, or the help which they may give us in our struggle with invading species of their cla.s.s.

Probably the first insect to be brought into friendly relations with man was the honey-bee. This creature, like the most of our domesticated animals, is a native of the great continent of the Old World, though it has now been conveyed to all the flowery lands of the world where the season is long enough for it to win its harvest. In its wild as well as in its tame state the honey-bee dwells in one of the most perfect and highly elaborated of insect societies. It is a member of the group of membranous-winged insects known to naturalists as _Hymenoptera_, an order which includes all the elaborate societies of the cla.s.s except the colonies of white ants. It is characteristic of all these colonial insects that, from the experience of ages, they have learned the great principles of the division of labor and of profit sharing towards which mankind are now clumsily stumbling; the great work which their societies are able to do is accomplished by a complete specialization of function and a perfect share in the commonwealth. So far has this elaboration gone, that in the bees the work of reproducing the kind is allotted to forms which do no labor; all the work of the hive being effected by individuals which are sterile, and whose sole function it is to toil unendingly for the profit of the great household.

While the greater part of the kindred of the bees either construct the nests for their young in the manner of our wasps or hornets, building them entirely in the open air, or excavate underground chambers in the fas.h.i.+on of our b.u.mble-bees, our domesticated form at some time in the remote past adopted the plan of choosing for its dwelling-place some chamber in the rocks, or cavity in a hollow tree which could be shaped to the needs of a habitation. Owing to the size of these cavities, they were enabled to form societies composed of many thousands of individuals; while the species which adopted nests, in other conditions, were much more limited as regards their numbers. Thus the b.u.mble-bee, which abides underground, dwells in very small communities, probably for the reason that the conditions of the soil it inhabits make it difficult to excavate and maintain large rooms. It is this habit of resorting to hollow s.p.a.ces, as well as the instinct to store up honey in wax cases, which has made the common bee valuable to man.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Feeding Silkworms with Mulberry Leaves in j.a.pan]

At best the opportunities which the wilderness affords, in the way of fit dwelling-places for the swarm which goes forth from a hive, are much less than can readily be provided by art. In almost all cases the wild bees have to expend a great deal of labor in searching for a fit residence; and after such is found it requires a great deal of toil and expenditure of the costly wax in order to shape the cavity so that it may comfortably accommodate the mult.i.tude, and be reasonably safe from the attacks of other insects. Thus it has come about that the bee has, in a way, welcomed the interference of man with his ancestral conditions; and, though the species exists in the wildernesses of its native land, the domesticated varieties have so far taken up with man that in other countries they do not wander far from the limits of civilization. Now and then an uncared-for swarm which cannot find accommodations about the parent hive will betake itself to the wilderness; though it generally continues to seek sustenance from the abundant flowers of the tilled fields where it finds species, such as clover and buckwheat, from which it has been long accustomed to win the harvest of pollen and honey.

In North America the honey-bees, which were brought by the early settlers, and which had been kept on the frontier by the pioneers of our civilization, have always extended, in wild swarms, a little distance into the wilderness. But, at most, they appear to have wandered only for a few miles beyond the homestead, going no further away than would permit their use of the cultivated plants. The aborigines early learned to regard the insect as the _avant courier_ of European men. When they came upon an individual of the species they always knew that some white man's dwelling stood nearby. Those who are familiar with the solitudes of our Appalachian forests must often have remarked, in the stillness of a summer day, the hum of a swarm from some forest or domestic hive in its search for a dwelling-place. Those who have followed up the movements of these migrating colonies have had a chance to perceive how long is the search before they find a fit abiding place. Doubtless by far the greater part of these searchers for a home fail of their quest, and the wandering swarms perish without finding a suitable shelter.

In certain kinds of woods, as, for instance, those occupied by pine trees or other species which do not develop s.p.a.cious hollows in their trunks, and where there are no crannied rocks--all the swarms which seek habitations there are foredoomed to destruction. If by chance the colonies wander too far, they generally find the wilderness so ill provided with plants which may furnish them with the sources of wax, honey, or other necessaries, that they cannot maintain their life. Thus it is that the bee, though domiciled with us rather than domesticated, has become united in its fortunes with civilization. In this position they have shown a remarkable adaptation to extremely varied conditions.

They can withstand any climate which permits the development of the vegetation to which they need have access, provided the growing season continues long enough to acc.u.mulate their store. In the tropical lands they harvest so little honey that they are not profitable to man, and in the high north they need all their summer's acc.u.mulation to maintain them through the long winter. Thus, though they may range almost as far as man through the gamut of climates, they are profitable to their masters only in the middle lat.i.tudes. They commonly do not do well close to the sea, and cannot be kept on inconsiderable islands for the reason that they are, in their wanderings, likely to be lost in the waters.