• THE INTELLIGENCE OF BEES.
rro THE EDITOR OF THE "SPECTATOR?') SIR,—I have just read your extremely interesting paper on the power of Bees to communicate with each other. I do not know if the following story—the truth of which I vouch for—is of any value as an illustration.
Some years ago, a boy playing with a jaekdaw in a large garden where bees were kept came near the hives, and the bird hopped on to the little platform in front of one of these houses. It was about sunset, and the bees had nearly all returned from their day's outing among the heather ; the few late arrivals, as soon as they alighted at their own door, were rapidly despatched by Jack's sharp beak. This lasted for a minute or two, when some bees were observed issuing from the door of the hive, and the bird assailed them at once, and killed them as fast as they crawled out. Then there was a pause, no bee going out or coming in, as far as the boy could see, but he heard a humming sound inside the hive, and immediately there came out of the low doorways strong band of bees, so close to each other that poor Jack, work as hard as he could, had no chance with them. He was attacked in the rear, and took to flight ; but rapidly as he flew, the bees were faster, and a cloud, spread out like a sheet, pursued him for nearly a mile, when they overtook him in the air, and the boy saw his favourite pet fall fluttering to the ground, where he picked him up, his -eyes closed, and head swollen to twice its natural size.
In this case, the bees knew how to communicate "intelligence,"
and how to act.—I am, Sir, &c., DAVID DOUGLAS. 41 Castle Street, Edinburgh, June 14.