Her sting has made the honeybee famous. Widely recognized as the maker of a most excellent product which she intends only for the use of her own family, she is even better known for the efficiency of the instrument with which she defends it.

Because of its high quality, delightful aroma, and pleasing taste, honey has long been recognized as the finest of food products, the standard by which others are measured. Since only the bee holds the secret of its preparation, the sole source of supply is found in the hive, and brigands among insects, animals, and men do not hesitate to rob her of her store.

So effective is her sting that men who know little else concerning the bee have a great respect for it and hesitate to come near the hive for fear of its barb. With the first threat of an angry buzz, men or animals will flee in terror.

Let us inquire what manner of instrument it is that has aroused such universal fear of a small and apparently insignificant insect. When resting quietly, there is nothing in the appearance of the honeybee to indicate that she might be more aggressive than a large fly whose buzzing is equally noisy. Since the fly has no store to guard, she has no use for a poisoned dart and nature has provided her with no such weapon. Strange, is it not, that when any creature develops a need, nature supplies the means of meeting it?

In the words of a famous freethinker, "He who denies the intelligent supervision of the whole of nature, denies his own intelligence. " But wherein that intelligence centers is perhaps beyond the comprehension of man. Certainly, without the sting as a weapon of defense, the honeybee would not be able to survive, for marauders large or small would rob her of her generous hoard and leave her to perish from want.

At the tip of her abdomen we find the sting, sharper than a needle's point, hollow like a hypodermic syringe, and with a bulb attached which contains the poison to be injected into the wound. Surrounding this bulb is a group of muscles which contract vigorously when the sting is drawn, thus forcing it deep into the flesh and discharging the acid content. A more effective instrument could hardly be devised. Near the point of the sting are several barbs which prevent it from being withdrawn from the flesh of the unfortunate victim.

The sting appears to be made to protect the store without reference to the cost to the bee. Guards which are called upon to attack invaders usually do so at the risk of their own lives. In most cases the bee is unable to withdraw the sting and it is torn from her body. If no extra tissue is torn away with it, she may live to continue her service to the hive for a few clays longer, but it often happens that her intestines are violently pulled from her body and death must result.

Once separated from the bee, the sting becomes an object of great interest. If the sting has penetrated far enough to permit the first barb to become attached, action will continue for several seconds. If we stop to observe, we will note the frequent contraction of the muscles surrounding the bulb. At each contraction the sting is driven deeper and a portion of the acid is discharged. This action continues until the sword is driven in to the hilt and the bulb is pumped dry.

The sting is torn from the body of the bee.

The sting is torn from the body of the bee.

In attempting to remove the sting, one is likely to squeeze out the contents of the bulb and thus invite the full effect of the poison. By scraping it off with the finger nail or knife-blade one can avoid adding to the dose already received.

The penetration of the sting is followed by most painful symptoms to those who are not immune to the effects. Some persons have but to be stung on any part of the face to have both eyes swell shut. Usually, there is no bad effect aside from the discomfort, but in rare cases there is a peculiar susceptibility which results seriously. In such cases one's head feels queer, there is a sensation of itching and burning over the entire body, followed by a rash and the appearance of welts or lumps on the skin. This is accompanied by labored breathing and, in very rare instances, by unconsciousness or death. Such serious effects are so rare as to cause widespread comment.

Nature comes to the rescue of one who works much among the bees and soon develops an immunity to the effects of stings. The writer has been subject to stings for many years and has come to feel little inconvenience from them. At first they were accompanied by severe pain, and extensive swelling which lasted for several days. Gradually the effects were reduced until the effect of fifty stings in a day was less noticeable than of one at first. This immunity is an example of the manner in which nature meets any new situation if she is given time.

With experience, the beekeeper learns to understand the habits of the bees and how to avoid the annoyance of stings. Not only does he protect himself by means of a veil to shelter his face, but he moves carefully to avoid disturbing them. He uses smoke to disorganize the guards and set them thinking of other things than stinging the invader. A skilled beekeeper is able to manipulate his hives without arousing the bees and thus saves annoyance to both himself and the insects. He learns to know what incidents are regarded as endangering their store and thus arousing the instinct of defense. When they are angry, he retires until they are in better mood and then he proceeds in such a manner as to work in harmony with them. If perchance he does get stung, the immunity which has developed saves him from serious discomfort.

Of all the instruments man has devised, none equals the perfection of the dart nature gave the bee. Keen, barbed, with a sac of acid attached, and an automatic pressure applied to push the poison directly into the circulatory system of the victim, it brings quick death to any small creature. It is so potent as to bring pain and discomfort and insure retreat of animals a thousand times larger than its bearer. Because of it, the little bee does not hesitate to attack no matter how large or how formidable her foe and, because of it, the honeybee has been able to survive through untold ages while other creatures have been exterminated. By means of her cooperative effort, she provides against seasons of dearth and, with her poisoned dagger, she defends her store against great odds. With it she is able to repel those who would rob and injure her, and perhaps her race may yet survive other creatures which have appeared much later in the cycle of years.