apparently dead bees.[1] "During the breeding season," says Wilson in his American Ornithology, "his extreme affection for his mate, and for his nest and young, makes him suspicious of every bird that happens to pass near his residence, so that he attacks without discrimination every intruder. But he has a worse habit than this, and much more obnoxious to the husbandman, and often more fatal to himself. He loves not the honey, but the bees; and, it must be confessed, is frequently on the lookout for these industrious little insects. He plants himself on a post of the fence, or on a small tree in the garden, not far from the hives; and from thence sallies on them as they pass and repass, making great havoc among their numbers." The ravages of this little tyrant are not confined to the bee species; he is to be seen often "in pasture fields, taking his stand on the top of rank weeds near the cattle, and making occasional sweeps after passing insects, particularly the large black gad-fly. His eye moves restlessly around him, traces the flight of an insect for a moment or two, then that of a second, and even a third, until he perceives one to his liking, when with a shrill sweep he pursues, seizes it, and returns to the same spot to look out for more. This habit is so conspicuous, when he is watching the bee-hives, that several intelligent farmers of my acquaintance
- ↑ Mr. St. John laid these dead bees on a blanket in the sun, and, mirabile dictu! out of the 171, no fewer than 54 returned to life, licked themselves clean, and joyfully went back to their hives.
