There existed a small colony of honey bees high up on a neem (Azadirachta Indica) tree. In the last three months, I had seen the bees create and develop the comb from scratch to its present size of about 17 cms across. One has to understand the skill and the coordinated creativity that goes into the building the comb to be able to admire these small but magnificent insects – perfect hexagonal cells giving maximum strength with minimum utilization of wax to create a structure which could withstand the ultimate vagaries of nature – torrential rain, intense heat and storms.
This was a comb of Apis Florea – the dwarf honey bee, first identified and described by Johan Christian Fabricius, a Danish Zoologist in 1787. Also known as the Red Dwarf Honey Bee, it is characterized by distinct red or brown, white and black bands on the abdomen.
Naturally distributed in the Indian subcontinent, the Apis Florea is sensitive, prefers isolation but does not like confinement. It makes a single comb attached to the underside of the branches, hidden in dense thickets to minimize detection – this has ensured their survival over the ages.
According to the seasoned beekeepers, any effort at displacement leads to immediate swarming. They cannot be confined like the A Cerana (Eastern honey bee) or the A Mellifera (Western honey bee) and any such effort always fails. Their sage advice preempted any thoughts I had of trying to relocate the gentle bees. At least, temporarily.
Preconceived convictions, howsoever strong, should not be accepted without trial, and if necessary, a series of trials must be performed. Immensely fascinated by the A Florea, I realized that I was subconsciously waiting for an opportunity to interact with them to understand them better. I had to relocate them or atleast attempt it.
A few days later, I realized that there were no flowers around to sustain the A Florea and this was when the temperature in Lucknow was at a sizzling 43 degree Celsius. They needed immediate sustenance. Any delay would result in the whole colony swarming away. This also implied losing the opportunity to truly understand this bee colony with which I had developed an emotional bond.
Ignorance of many and exploitation by a few humans has, for centuries, made them suffer immense hardship and this was the opportunity to correct this age old perception.
DAY ONE
After sunset, when all the honey bees were back, I tenderly cut the branch on which the comb was suspended and brought it home. Not one bee was left behind and none suffered in the entire relocation process. The whole operation was so swift and silent that the bees might have probably accepted the moving motion as the natural swaying of the branch. But, let us not underestimate their reasoning. I would like to believe that they had sensed their impending crisis and welcomed the support in the time of their nutritional uncertainty. All in all, they remained silent, none protested. Perhaps, they realized that not all humans are insensitive.
I gently placed the branch on a temporary wooden structure that held it steady from both ends. Care was taken to provide them with an open area at the top so that they could continue to use the top of the comb, known as the crown, as a platform for landing and taking off. This crown is a distinctive feature of the comb built by the A Florea.
DAY TWO
At sunrise, I was with the bees. I offered them honey as a gesture of goodwill. Moments later, suddenly, as if on some silent command, they became very active. They then started to swarm around nervously. I searched for the Queen to try to confine it and thereby stop the swarming process but was unable to locate it in such intense activity. I could do nothing but watch the bees fly away, leaving the comb entirely exposed and see my entire relocation effort go awry.
A close examination of the comb showed a few hundred pupae but no larvae or eggs. There was neither honey nor pollen. This confirmed my assessment of shortage of nectar and pollen. I should have acted sooner. It was an effort made too late. With all the honey bees gone, this late awareness was only of academic interest now.
I tried tracking down the bees. I walked to the neem tree, maybe, they had gone back there. After all, it was only about 150 meters away, but they hadn’t. Feeling momentarily purposeless at the loss of the bees and contemplating what to do next, I went back to the empty comb. To my pleasant surprise, the entire colony was back, and at their full strength too. Through the course of that day, this sequence of swarming away and coming back to re-colonize the comb was repeated four times. It defied all logic. Never in my entire beekeeping career, I had witnessed this phenomenon. I still cannot explain this action nor the reasons for it. A Florea seems to have a will of it’s own but for me, it was like a pendulum of anguish and pleasure.
DAY THREE
I inspected the bees early morning. They were all there. The wooden structure used for their resettlement was open at the top but there was a board at the bottom. The comb was nearly touching the bottom board and I noticed that the bees were scattered all over the bottom board, motiveless and confused. This prompted me to examine another hive of A Florea. I noticed that the bees were clinging to each other, forming a curtain, 3 to 4 layers deep and at the lowest level, this formation was about two inches lower than the constructed comb. This made me realize that the bottom board was not only blocking the desired air circulation but also preventing the natural downward extension of the comb. The bottom board was pulled out. But, the sides were still covered, a situation contrary to their nature.
It took some imagination and a willing carpenter to construct a wooden stand that supported the comb. The bees, after a short interval, resumed their normal activity.
They had also started using the crown to convey information about the source of nectar and pollen including the direction and distance. This transfer of information was communicated through a waggle dance, a performance graceful enough to mesmerize the most casual of observers. This dance is performed on the top surface of the comb and not on the vertical surface – a phenomenon peculiar only to Apis Florea.
DAY FOUR
I fed them honey and they enjoyed every drop of it. Slowly but surely, I have built a relationship of trust and understanding with them. They are kindhearted and do not perceive me as a threat. The typical display of shimmering and hissing to warn any predator is now conspicuous by its absence.
However, to protect their nectar resources, they continue to react very aggressively to any honey bees of other species. The vibrations induced by the variations in the flying pattern enable them to differentiate between their own and other species of honeybee. The response to any such threat is immediate, swift and intense. I have seen them pounce and seize hold of even the A Dorsata (Giant honey bee) for any attempted misadventure. This captivating display of the survival instinct by the most primitive honeybee species reminded me of the bedtime story of ‘Lilliputians against the Giant’.
DAY FIVE
An earlier examination of the empty comb on the second day had revealed only the pupae stage. We all know that the honey bee is an insect and the life cycle consists of transformation from an egg to larva, then pupa and finally to an adult. Here the initial two stages of the egg and larvae were missing. This could mean only two things – either the Queen had ceased to lay eggs or worse the Queen no longer existed.
Nectar and pollen are the main floral resources for the bees. Usually, the Queen ceases to lay eggs on realizing that the nectar and pollen reserves are low and initiates egg laying when nectar and pollen inflow starts. I earnestly wished that the absence of the egg and larvae stages would be explained by the diminishing reserves of honey and pollen and not the result of an absent Queen.
It was therefore necessary to re-examine the hive and locate the Queen. I inspected the colony again, bit by bit. The curtain of the bees was very thick and the physical presence of the Queen could not be established, but there were countless eggs – one in each hexagonal cell. A consistent laying pattern suggested a vigorous Queen. This assured the survival of the colony. It seems that they have happily settled. The relocation has been a success.
(There was no honey in the comb. Uninformed people would have destroyed this comb and damaged the entire honeybee colony in their quest for honey)
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