Bees lay their eggs in series of first females and then males, when the two sexes are of different sizes and demand an unequal quantity of nourishment. When the two sexes are alike in size, the same sequence may occur, but less regularly.
This dual arrangement disappears when the place chosen for the nest is not large enough to contain the entire laying. We then see broken layings, beginning with females and ending with males.
The egg, as it issues from the ovary, has not yet a fixed sex. The final impress that produces the sex is given at the moment of laying or a little before.
So as to be able to give each larva the amount of space and food that suits it according as it is male or female, the mother can choose the sex of the egg which she is about to lay. To meet the conditions of the building, which is often the work of another or else a natural retreat that admits of little or no alteration, she lays either a male egg or a female egg as she pleases. The distribution of the sexes depends upon herself. Should circumstances require it, the order of the laying can be reversed and begin with males; lastly, the entire laying can contain only one sex.
The same privilege is possessed by the predatory Hymenoptera, the Wasps, at least by those in whom the two sexes are of a different size and consequently require an amount of nourishment that is larger in the one case than in the other. The mother must know the sex of the egg which she is going to lay; she must be able to choose the sex of that egg so that each larva may obtain its proper portion of food.
Generally speaking, when the sexes are of different sizes, every insect that collects food and prepares or selects a dwelling for its offspring must be able to choose the sex of the egg in order to satisfy without mistake the conditions imposed upon it.
The question remains how this optional assessment of the sexes is effected. I know absolutely nothing about it. If I should ever learn anything about this delicate point, I shall owe it to some happy chance for which I must wait, or rather watch, patiently. Towards the end of my investigations, I heard of a German theory which relates to the Hive-bee and comes from Dzierzon, the apiarist. (Johann Dzierzon, author of "Theorie und Praxis des neuen Bienenfreundes."--Translator's Note.) If I understand it aright, according to the very incomplete documents which I have before me, the egg, as it issues from the ovary, is said already to possess a sex, which is always the same; it is originally male; and it becomes female by fertilization.
The males are supposed to proceed from non-fertilized eggs, the females from fertilized eggs. The Queen-bee would thus lay female eggs or male eggs according as she fertilized them or not while they were passing into her oviduct.
Coming from Germany, this theory cannot but inspire me with profound distrust. As it has been given acceptance, with rash precipitancy, in standard works, I will overcome my reluctance to devoting my attention to Teutonic ideas and will submit it not to the test of argument, which can always be met by an opposite argument, but to the unanswerable test of facts.
For this optional fertilization, determining the sex, the mother's organism requires a seminal reservoir which distils its drop of sperm upon the egg contained in the oviduct and thus gives it a feminine character, or else leaves it its original character, the male character, by refusing it that baptism. This reservoir exists in the Hive-bee. Do we find a similar organ in the other Hymenoptera, whether honey-gatherers or hunters? The anatomical treatises are either silent on this point or, without further enquiry, apply to the order as a whole the data provided by the Hive-bee, however much she differs from the mass of Hymenoptera owing to her social habits, her sterile workers and especially her tremendous fertility, extending over so long a period.
I at first doubted the universal presence of this spermatic receptacle, having failed to find it under my scalpel in my former investigations into the anatomy of the Sphex-wasps and some other game-hunters. But this organ is so delicate and so small that it very easily escapes the eye, especially when our attention is not specially directed in search of it; and, even when we are looking for it and it only, we do not always succeed in discovering it. We have to find a globule attaining in many cases hardly as much as a millimetre (About one-fiftieth of an inch.--Translator's Note.) in diameter, a globule headed amidst a tangle of air-ducts and fatty patches, of which it shares the colour, a dull white. Then again, the merest slip of the forceps is enough to destroy it. My first investigations, therefore, which concerned the reproductive apparatus as a whole, might very well have allowed it to pass unperceived.
In order to know the rights of the matter once and for all, as the anatomical treatises taught me nothing, I once more fixed my microscope on its stand and rearranged my old dissecting-tank, an ordinary tumbler with a cork disk covered with black satin. This time, not without a certain strain on my eyes, which are already growing tired, I succeeded in finding the said organ in the Bembex-wasps, the Halicti (Cf. Chapters 12 to 14 of the present volume.--Translator's Note.), the Carpenter-bees, the Bumble-bees, the Andrenae (A species of Burrowing Bees.--Translator's Note.) and the Megachiles. (Or Leaf-cutting Bees. Cf. Chapter 8 of the present volume.--Translator's Note.) I failed in the case of the Osmiae, the Chalicodomae and the Anthophorae. Is the organ really absent? Or was there want of skill on my part? I lean towards want of skill and admit that all the game-hunting and honey-gathering Hymenoptera possess a seminal receptacle, which can be recognized by its contents, a quantity of spiral spermatozoids whirling and twisting on the slide of the microscope.
