proper season, without using any feeder at all, or rather he may use the
_bottom-board_ of the hive as a feeder. On this plan, the bees should be
fed at evening; so as to run no risk of their robbing each other. The
hive which is to be fed, should have the front edge of its bottom-board
elevated on a block, so as to slant _backwards_, and the honey should be
poured into a small tin gutter inserted at the entrance; one such will
answer for a whole Apiary, and may be made by bending up the edges of
any old piece of tin. As the frames in my hive are kept about half an
inch above the bottom-board, which is water-tight, the honey runs under
them, and is as safe as in a dish, while the bees stand on the bottom of
the frames, and help themselves. The quantity poured in, should of
course, depend upon the size and necessities of the colony; no more
ought to be given at one time than the bees can take up during the
night, and the entrance to the hive ought always to be kept very small
during the process of feeding, to prevent robber bees from getting in; a
good colony will easily take up a quart. It is desirable to get through
the feeding as rapidly as possible, as the bees are excited during the
whole process, and consume more than they otherwise would; to say
nothing of the demand made upon the time of the Apiarian, by feeding in
small quantities. If the bees cannot, in favorable weather, dispose of
at least a pint at one time, the colony must be too small to make it
worth while to feed them, if they are in hives by which they can be
readily united to stronger stocks.
If the bees have not a good allowance of comb, it will not, as a general
rule, pay to feed them. This will be obvious to any one who reflects
that at least 20 pounds of honey are required to elaborate one pound of
wax. I know that this estimate may to some, appear enormous; but it is
given as the result of very accurate experiments, instituted on a large
scale, to determine this very point. The Country Curate says, "Having
driven the population of four stocks, on the 5th of August, and united
them together, I fed them with about 50 pounds of a mixture of sugar,
honey, salt and beer, for about five weeks. At that time, the box was
only 16 pounds heavier than when the bees were put into it." He then
makes an estimate that at least 25 pounds of the mixture were consumed
in making about half a pound of wax!! No one who has ever tried it, will
undertake to feed bees for profit, when they are destitute of both comb
and honey.
If the weather is cool when bees are fed, it will generally be necessary
to resort to top feeding. For this, my hive is admirably adapted: a
feeder may be put over one of the holes in the honey-board directly over
the mass of the bees, into which the heat of the hive naturally arises,
and where the bees can get at their food without any risk of being
chilled. This is _always_ the best place for a feeder, as the smell of
the food is not so likely to attract the notice of robbing bees.
I shall here describe the way in which a feeder can at small expense, be
made to answer admirably every purpose. Take any wooden box which will
hold, say, at least one quart; make it honey-tight, by pouring into the
joints the melted mixture, (see p. 99,) and brush the whole interior
with the mixture, so that the honey may not soak into the wood. Make a
float of thin wood, filled with quarter inch holes, with clamps nailed
on the lower sides to prevent warping, and to keep the float from
settling to the bottom of the box, so as to stick fast: it should have
ample play, so that it may settle, as fast as the bees consume the
honey. Tacks on the clamps will always be sure to prevent sticking.
Before you waste any time in making small holes, for fear the bees will
be drowned in the large ones, try a float made as directed. In one
corner of the box, fasten with the melted mixture, a thin strip of wood,
about one inch wide; let it project above the top of the box about an
inch, and be kept about half an inch from the bottom; this answers as a
spout for pouring the honey into the feeder, and when not in use, it
should be stopped up. Have for the lid of the box, a piece of glass with
the corner cut off next the spout, so as to cover the feeder and keep
the bees in, and at the same time allow the bee-keeper to see when they
have consumed all their food. The feeder is now complete, with one
important exception; it has, as yet no way of admitting the bees. On the
outside corners of one of the ends, glue or tack two strips, inch and a
half wide, extending down to the bottom of the box, and half an inch
from the top; fasten over them a piece of thin board, (paste-board will
answer.) You have now a shallow passage without top or bottom, outside
of your feeder; give it a top of any kind; cut out just below the level
of this top, a passage into the feeder for the bees. It is now complete,
and when properly placed over any hole on the top of the hive, will
admit the bees from the hive, into the shallow passage which has no
bottom, and through this into the feeder. Such a feeder will not only be
cheap, but it might almost be made by a child, and yet it will answer
every purpose most admirably. If you have no wooden box that will
answer, a feeder may be made of pasteboard, and if brushed with the
melted mixture it will be honey-tight. By packing cotton or wool around
it, it might be used in most hives, even in the dead of Winter. Bees
however, ought never to need feeding in Winter, and if they do, it will
always be unsafe at this season to feed them with liquid honey.
I ought here to speak of the importance of _water_ to the bees. It is
absolutely indispensable when they are building comb, or raising brood.
In the early Spring, they take advantage of the first warm weather, to
bring it to their hives, and they may be seen busily drinking around
pumps, drains, and other moist places. As they are not noticed
frequenting such spots much, except in the early part of the season,
many suppose that they need water only at this period. This is a great
mistake, for they need it, and must have it, during the whole breeding
season. But as soon as the grass starts, and the trees are covered with
leaves, they prefer to sip the dew from them. If a few cold days come
on, after the bees have commenced breeding, so as to prevent them from
going abroad for water, a very serious check will be given to their
operations. Even when it is not so cold as to prevent their leaving the
hive, many become so chilled in their search for water, that they are
not able to return.
Every wise bee-keeper will see that his bees have an abundant supply of
water. If he has not some warm and sunny spot where they can safely
obtain it, he will furnish them with shallow wooden troughs or vessels
filled with pebbles, from which they can drink, without any risk of
drowning, and where they will be sheltered from cold winds, and warmed
by the genial rays of the sun. I believe that the reason why bees very
much prefer the impure water of barn-yards and drains, is not because
they find any medicinal quality in it, but because as it is _near_ their
hives and _warm_, they can fill themselves without being fatally
chilled.
I have used water feeders of the same construction with my honey
feeders, with great success. The bees are able to enter them at all
times, as they are filled with the warm air of the hive, and thus
breeding goes on, without interruption, and the lives of many bees are
saved.
The same end may be obtained, by pouring daily, a few table spoonsfull
of water into the hive, through one of the holes leading to the spare
honey boxes. As soon as the weather becomes warm, and the bees can
supply themselves from the dew on the grass and leaves, it will not be
worth while to give them water in their hives.
When supplied with water in their hives, I advise that enough honey or
sugar be added to it, to make it tolerably sweet. They will take it with
greater relish, and it will stimulate them more powerfully to the
raising of brood.
I come now to mention a substitute for liquid honey, the value of which
has been extensively and thoroughly tested in Germany, and which I have
used with great advantage. It was not discovered by Dzierzon, although
he speaks of its excellence, in the most decided terms. The article to
which I refer, is _plain sugar candy_, or as it is often called, barley
candy. It has been ascertained that about four pounds of this, will
sustain a colony during the Winter, when they have scarcely any honey in
their hive! If it is placed where they can get access to it without
being chilled, they will cluster upon it, and gradually eat it up. It
not only goes further than double the quantity of liquid honey which
could be bought for the same money, but is found to agree with the bees
perfectly; while the liquid honey is almost sure to sour in the unsealed
cells, and expose them to dangerous, and often fatal attacks of
dysentery. I have sometimes, in the old-fashioned box hives, pushed
sticks of candy between the ranges of comb, and have found it even then
to answer a good purpose. In any hive which has surplus honey boxes, the
candy may be put into a small box, which after being covered thoroughly
with cotton or wool, may have another box put over it, the outside of
which may be also covered. Unless great precautions are used, the boxes
will be so cold, that the bees will not be able to enter them in Winter,
and may thus perish in close proximity to abundant stores.
In my hives, the candy may be laid on the top of the frames, in the
shallow chamber between the frames and the honey-board; it will here, if
the honey-board is covered with straw, be always accessible to the bees,
even in the coldest weather. I sometimes put it directly into a frame,
and confine it with a piece of twine, or fine wire.
I have made a very convenient use of sugar candy, as a bee-feed in the
Summer, when I wished to give small colonies a little food, and yet not
to be at the trouble to use a feeder, or incur the risk of their being
robbed by putting it where strange bees might be attracted by the scent.
A small stick of candy, slid in on the bottom-board, under the frames,
answers admirably for such a purpose. If a little liquid food must be
used in warm weather, I advise that it be the best white sugar,
dissolved in water; this makes an admirable food; costs but little more
than brown sugar, and has no smell to tempt robbers to try to gain an
entrance into the hive.
If the Apiarian is skillful, and attends to his bees, at the proper
time, they will rarely need much feeding; if he manages them in such a
manner that this is frequently and extensively needed, I can assure him,
if he has not already found it out to his sorrow, that his bees will be
nothing but a bill of cost and vexation.
The question how much honey a colony of bees needs, in order to carry
them safely through the perils of Winter, is one to which it is
impossible to give an answer which will be definite, under all
circumstances. Very much will depend upon the hive in which they are
kept, and the forwardness of the ensuing Spring; (see Chapter on
Protection.) It is often absolutely impossible in the common hives, to
form any reliable estimate, as to the quantity of honey which they
contain, for the combs are often so heavy with bee-bread, as entirely to
deceive even the most experienced bee-keeper.
I should always wish to leave at least 20 lbs. of honey in a hive; and
as I can examine each comb, I am never at a loss to know how much a
colony has. If I have the least apprehension that their supplies may
fail, I prefer to put a few pounds of sugar candy where they can easily
get access to it, in case of need. In my hive, the careful bee-keeper
may not only know the exact extent of the resources of each hive, in the
Fall, but he may, very early in the Spring, ascertain precisely how much
honey is still on hand, and whether his bees need feeding, in order to
preserve their lives. It is a shameful fact that a large number of
colonies perish after they have begun to fly out, and when, they might
easily have been saved, in any kind of hive.
FEEDING, TO MAKE A PROFIT BY SELLING THE HONEY STORED UP BY THE BEES.
For many years, Apiarians have attempted to make the feeding of bees on
a large scale, profitable to their owners. All such attempts however,
must, from the very nature of the case, meet with very limited success.
If large quantities of cheap West India honey are fed to the bees in the
Fall, they are induced to fill their hives to such an extent, that in
the Spring, the queen does not find the necessary accommodations for
breeding. If they are largely fed in the Spring, the case is still
worse; (See p. 320.) It must therefore be obvious that the feeding of
cheap honey can only be made profitable where it serves as a substitute
for an equal quantity of choice honey taken from the bees. In the latter
part of Summer, the Apiarian may take away from the main hive, some of
the combs which contain the best honey, and replace them with combs into
which he has poured the cheaper article; or if he has no spare combs on
hand, he may slice off the covers of the cells, drain out the honey,
fill the empty combs with West India honey, and return them to the bees:
giving them at the same time, the additional food which they need to
elaborate wax to seal them over. If he attempts to take away their full
combs, and gives them honey in order to enable them, first to replace
their combs, and then to fill them, the operation, (see p. 326,) will
result in a loss, instead of a gain.
I am aware that for a number of years, persons have attempted to derive
a profit from supplying the markets of some of our large cities, with an
article professing to be the best of honey, but which has been nothing
more than the cheap West India honey fed to the bees, and stored up by
them in new comb. In the City of Philadelphia, large quantities of such
honey have been sold at the highest prices, and _perhaps_ at some profit
to the persons who have fed it to their bees. Within the last two years,
however, the article has become so well known that it can hardly be sold
at any price; as those who purchase honey, instead of paying 25 cents
per pound for West India honey in the comb, much prefer to buy it, (if
they want it at all,) for 6 or 7 cents, in a liquid state! It must be
perfectly obvious that to sell a cheap and ill-flavored article at a
high price, under the pretence that it is a superior article, is nothing
less than downright cheating.
I am perfectly well aware that many persons imagine that if any thing
_sweet_ is fed to bees, they will quickly transmute it into the purest
nectar. There is, however, no more truth in such a conceit, than there
would be in that of a man who supposed that he had found the veritable
philosopher's stone; and that he was able to change all our copper and
silver coins into the purest gold! Bees to be sure, can make white and
beautiful _comb_, from almost any kind of sweet; and why? because wax is
a natural secretion of the bee, (see p. 76,) and can be made from any
sweet; just as fat can be put upon the ribs of an ox, by any kind of
nourishing food.
"But," some of my readers may ask, "do you mean to assert that bees do
not secrete honey out of the raw material which they gather, or which is
furnished to them, just as cows secrete milk from grass and hay?" I
certainly do mean to assert that they can do nothing of the kind, and no
intelligent man who has carefully _studied their habits_, will for a
moment, venture to affirm that they can, unless for the sake of "filthy
lucre," he is attempting to deceive an unwary community. What bee-keeper
does not know, or rather ought not to know that the quality of honey
depends entirely upon the sources from whence it is gathered; and that
the different kinds of honey can easily be distinguished by any one who
is a judge of the article.
Apple-blossom honey, white clover honey, buckwheat honey, and all the
different kinds of honey, each has its own peculiar flavor, and it is
utterly amazing how any sensible man, acquainted with bees, can be so
deluded as to imagine any thing to the contrary. But as this is a matter
of great practical importance, let us examine it more closely.
When bees are engaged in rapidly storing up honey in their combs, they
may be seen, as _soon_ as they return from the fields, or from the
feeding boxes, putting their heads at once into the cells, and
disgorging the contents of their "honey-bags." Now that the contents of
their sacs undergo no change at all, during the short time that they
remain in them, I will not absolutely affirm, because I have endeavored,
through this whole treatise, never to assert positively when I had not
positive evidence for so doing: but that they can undergo but a _very
slight_ change, must be evident from the fact that when thus stored up,
the different kinds of honey or sugar can be almost if not quite as
readily distinguished as before they were fed to the bees. The only
perceptible change which they appear to undergo in the cells, is to have
the large quantity of water evaporated from them, which is added from
thoughtlessness, or from the vain expectation that it will be just so
much water sold for honey, to the defrauded purchaser! This evaporation
of the water from the honey by the heat of the hive, is about the only
marked change that it appears to undergo, from its natural state in the
nectaries of the blossoms; and it is exceedingly interesting to see how
unwilling bees are to seal up honey, until it is reduced to such a
consistency that there is no danger of its souring in the cells. They
are as careful as to the quality of their nectar, as the good lady of
the house is, to have the syrup of her preserves boiled down to a
suitable thickness to keep them sweet.
Let all who for any purpose whatever, feed bees, keep this fact in mind,
and never add to the food which they give them, more water than is
absolutely necessary. To do so, is a piece of as great stupidity as to
pour a barrel of water into the sugar pans, for every barrel of sap from
the maples, or juice from the canes! If a strong colony is set upon a
platform scale, it will be found on a pleasant day, during the height of
the honey harvest, to gain a number of pounds; if examined again, early
next morning, it will be found to have lost considerably, during the
night. This is owing to the evaporation of the water from the freshly
gathered honey, and it may often be seen running down in quite a stream
from the bottom-board.
Those who feed cheap honey to sell it in the market at a high advance
over its first cost, are either deceivers or deceived; if any of my
readers have been deceived by the plausible representations of ignorant
or unprincipled men, I trust they will be able from these remarks, to
see exactly _how_ they have been deceived, and they will no longer
persist in an adulteration, the profits of which can never be great, and
the morality of which can never be defended. A man who offers for sale,
inferior honey, or sugar which he calls honey, and which he is able to
sell because it is stored in white comb, to those who would never
purchase it if they knew what it was, or once had a taste of it, is not
a whit more honest, if he understands the nature of the article in which
he deals, than a person engaged in counterfeiting the current coin of
the realm: for poor honey in white comb, is no less a fraud than eagles
or dollars, golden to be sure, on their honest exteriors, but containing
a baser metal within! "The Golden Age" of bee-keeping, in which inferior
honey can be quickly transmuted into such balmy spoils as are gathered
by the bees of Hybla, has not yet dawned upon us; or at least only in
the fairy visions of the poet who saw
"A golden hive, on a Golden Bank,
Where golden bees, by alchemical prank,
Gathered Gold instead of Honey."
If a pound of West India honey costs about 6 cents, and the bees use, as
they will, about one pound to make the comb in which it is stored, it
costs the producer at least 12 cents a pound, and if to this, he adds,
say 5 cents more, for extra time and labor in feeding, then his inferior
honey costs him at least as much as the market price of the very best
honey on the spot where it is produced! If the bee-keeper allows his
bees to make what they will, from the blossoms, and then begins to feed,
after he has harvested the produce from the natural supplies, the
advance over the first cost will hardly pay for the trouble, even if it
were fair to palm off such inferior honey as a first-rate article. If,
however, bees are fed on this food very largely in the latter part of
Summer, they will fill up their hive with it, before they put it into
the spare honey boxes, and the production of brood will often be most
seriously interfered with, at a season of the year when it is important
to have the hives well stocked with bees, that they may winter to the
best advantage.
If Apiarians are anxious to have large quantities of choice honey, let
them manage their bees so as to have powerful stocks in the early
Spring, and they will then be able to have heavy purses and light
consciences into the bargain. I shall now show how liquid honey,
exceedingly beautiful to the eye, and tempting to the taste, may be made
to great advantage.
Dissolve two pounds of the purest white sugar, in as much hot water as
will be just necessary to reduce it to a syrup; take one pound of the
nicest white clover honey, (any other light colored honey of good flavor
will answer,) and after warming it, add it to the sugar syrup, and stir
the contents. When cool, this compound will be pronounced, even by the
best judges of honey, to be one of the most luscious articles which they
ever tasted; and will be, by almost every one, preferred to the unmixed
honey. Refined loaf sugar is a perfectly pure and inodorous sweet, and
one pound of honey will communicate the honey flavor, in high
perfection, to twice that quantity of sugar: while the new article will
be destitute of that smarting taste which honey alone, so often has, and
will be often found to agree perfectly with those who cannot eat the
clear honey with impunity. If those engaged in the artificial
manufacture of honey, never brought any thing worse than this, to the
market, the purchasers would have no reason to complain. As however, the
compound can be furnished much cheaper than the pure honey, many may
prefer to purchase the materials, and mix them themselves. If desired,
any kind of flavor may be given to the manufactured article; thus it may
be made to resemble in fragrance, the classic honey of Mount Hymettus,
by adding to it the fine aroma of the lemon balm, or wild thyme; or it
may have the flavor of the orange groves, or the delicate fragrance of
beds of roses washed with dew.
I have recently ascertained that if two pounds of the best refined sugar
be added to one of common maple sugar, the compound will be a light
colored article, retaining perfectly the maple taste, and yet far
superior to the common maple sugar. After making this discovery, I
learned that a large part of the very nicest maple sugar is made in this
way!
Attempts have been made to feed to bees, to be stored in the honey
boxes, a mixture of the whitest honey and loaf sugar; but the result
shows a loss rather than a gain. The mixture, before it is fed, will
cost about 10 cents per pound. At the very furthest, not more than one
half of what is fed, can be secured in the comb, for it requires about
one pound of honey, to manufacture comb enough to hold a pound of honey.
The actual cost of the honey in the comb, will therefore be, at least 20
cents per pound; and the pure white clover honey can be bought for less
than that. Those who desire to have something exceedingly beautiful to
the eye, and delicate to the taste, at a season when the bees are not
storing up honey from the blossoms, and in situations where the natural
supply is of an inferior quality, if they do not regard expense, can
place upon their tables, something which will be pronounced by the best
judges, a little superior to any thing they ever tasted before.
I have repeatedly spoken of the great care which is necessary to prevent
bees from getting a taste of forbidden sweets, so as to be tempted to
engage in dishonest courses. The experienced Apiarian will fully
appreciate the necessity of these cautions, and the inexperienced, if
they neglect them, will be taught a lesson that they will not soon
forget. Let it be remembered that the bee was intended to gather its
sweets from the nectaries of flowers: to use the exquisitely beautiful
language of him whose wonderful writings supply us on almost every
subject, with the richest thoughts and happiest illustrations, they were
created to
"Make boot upon the Summer's velvet buds,
Which pillage they with merry march bring home
To the tent royal of their emperor:
Who, busied in his majesty, surveys
The singing masons, building roofs of gold."--_Shakspeare._
When thus engaged, the bees work in perfect accordance with their
natural instincts, and seem to have little or no disposition to meddle
with property that does not belong to them. If however, their incautious
owner tempts them with liquid food, especially at times when they can
obtain nothing from the blossoms, they seem to be so infatuated with
such easy gatherings, as to lose all discretion, and they will perish by
thousands, if the vessels which contain the food are not furnished with
floats, on which they can stand and help themselves in safety.
The fly was intended to feed, not upon the blossoms, but upon food in
which, without care, it could easily be drowned; and hence it alights
most cautiously, on the edge of any vessel containing liquid food, and
warily helps itself: while the poor bee, without any caution, plunges
right in and speedily perishes. The sad fate of their unfortunate
companions, does not in the least, deter others who approach the
tempting lure: but they madly alight on the bodies of the dying and the
dead, to share the same miserable end! No one can understand the full
extent of their infatuation, until after seeing a confectioner's shop,
assailed by thousands and tens of thousands of hungry bees. I have seen
thousands strained out from the syrups in which they had perished;
thousands more alighting even upon the boiling sweets; the floors
covered, and windows darkened with bees, some crawling, others flying,
and others still, so completely daubed as to be able neither to crawl
nor fly; not one bee in ten able to carry home its ill-gotten spoils,
and yet the air filled with new hosts of thoughtless comers.
It will be for the interest of all engaged in the manufacture of candy
and syrups, to fit gauze wire windows and doors to their premises, and
thus save themselves from constant loss and annoyance: for if only one
bee in a hundred escapes with his load, the confectioner will be
subjected in the course of the season to serious loss. I once furnished
such an establishment, after the bees had commenced their depredations,
with such protection; and when they found themselves excluded, they lit
on the wire by thousands, and fairly squealed with vexation and
disappointment, as they tried to force a passage through the meshes. At
last as they were daring enough to descend the chimney, reeking with
sweet odors, even although the most who attempted it, fell with scorched
wings into the fire, it became necessary to put wire gauze over the top
of the chimney also!
How often, as I have seen thousands of bees, in such places destroyed,
and thousands more deprived of all ability to fly, and hopelessly
struggling in the deluding sweets, and yet thousands more blindly
hovering over them, all unmindful of their danger, and apparently eager
to share the same destruction, how often has the spectacle of their
infatuation seemed to me, to be an exact picture of the woful delusion
of those who surrender themselves to the fatal influences of the
intoxicating cup. Even although they see the miserable victims of this
degrading vice, falling all around them, into premature and dishonored
graves, they still press on, madly trampling as it were, over their dead
and dying bodies, that they too may sink into the same abyss of agonies,
and that their sun may also go down in darkness and hopeless gloom. Even
although they know that the next cup may send them, with all their sins
upon their heads, to the dread tribunal of their God, that cup of bitter
sorrows and untold degradation, they will drain even to its most
loathsome dregs.
The avaricious bee that despised the slow process of extracting nectar
from "every opening flower," and plunged recklessly into the tempting
sweets, has ample time to bewail its folly. Even if it has not paid the
forfeit of its life, but has been able to obtain its fill, it returns
home with all its beautiful plumage sullied and besmeared, and with a
woe-begone look, and sorrowful note, in marked contrast with the bright
hues and merry sounds with which the industrious bee returns from its
happy rovings amid "the budding honey flowers, and sweetly breathing
fields."
Just so, has many a pilgrim from the golden shores of California and
Australia, returned; enfeebled in body and mind, bankrupt often in
character and happiness, if not in purse, and unfitted in every way, for
the calm and sober pursuits of common industry; while thousands, yes,
and tens of thousands too, shall never more behold their once happy
homes. Bibles and Sabbaths, altars and firesides, parents and friends,
wife and children, how often have all these been wantonly abandoned, in
the accursed greed for gain, by those who might have been happy and
prosperous at home, and who wandered from its sacred precincts only
because they were determined to make the possession of wealth, the chief
object of life, but whose bones now lie amid the coral reefs of the
ocean, or moulder in the howling wastes of the "overland passage;" just
as the bones of the unbelieving Israelites whitened the sands of the
desert. Of those who have reached the "land of" golden "promise," how
many have died in despair, or worse still, are living so besotted by
vice, so lost to all power of virtuous resolutions, that they shall
never more see the happy homes from which they so thoughtlessly
wandered, never more hear the soft accents of loving friends; never more
worship God, in a peaceful Sanctuary, or ever again behold an opened
Bible!
"Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold!
Bright and yellow, hard and cold,
Molten, graven, hammer'd, and roll'd;
Heavy to get, and light to hold;
Hoarded, barter'd, bought, and sold,
Stolen, borrow'd, squander'd, doled:
Spurn'd by the young, but hugg'd by the old
To the very verge of the churchyard mould;
Price of many a crime untold;
Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold!
Good or bad a thousand-fold!
How widely its agencies vary--
To save--to ruin--to curse--to bless--
As even its minted coins express,
Now stamp'd with the image of Good Queen Bess,
And now of a Bloody Mary!"
_Hood._
CHAPTER XVI.
HONEY. PASTURAGE. OVERSTOCKING.
In the chapter on Feeding, it has already been stated that honey is not
a natural secretion of the bee, but a substance obtained from the
nectaries of the blossoms; it is not therefore, made, but merely
gathered by the bees. The truth is well expressed in the lines so
familiar to most of us from our childhood,
"How doth the little busy bee
Improve each shining hour,
And _gather_ honey all the day
From every opening flower."
Bees not only gather honey from the blossoms, but often obtain it in
large quantities from what have been called honey dews; "a term applied
to those sweet, clammy drops that glitter on the foliage of many trees
in hot weather." Two different opinions have been zealously advocated as
to the origin of honey-dews. By some, they are considered a natural
exudation from the leaves of trees, a perspiration as it were,
occasioned often by ill health, though sometimes a provision to enable
the plants to resist the fervent heats to which they are exposed. Others
insist that this sweet substance is discharged from the bodies of those
aphides or small lice which infest the leaves of so many plants.
Unquestionably they are produced in both ways.
Messrs. Kirby and Spence, in their interesting work on Entomology, have
given a description of the kind of honey-dew furnished by the aphides.
"The loves of the ants and the aphides have long been celebrated; and
that there is a connection between them, you may, at any time in the
proper season, convince yourself; for you will always find the former
very busy on those trees and plants on which the latter abound; and if
you examine more closely, you will discover that the object of the ants,
in thus attending upon the aphides, is to obtain the saccharine fluid
secreted by them, which may well be denominated their milk. This fluid,
which is scarcely inferior to honey in sweetness, issues in limpid drops
from the abdomen of these insects, not only by the ordinary passage, but
also by two setiform tubes placed, one on each side, just above it.
Their sucker being inserted in the tender bark, is without intermission
employed in absorbing the sap, which, after it has passed through their
system, they keep continually discharging by these organs. When no ants
attend them, by a certain jerk of the body, which takes place at regular
intervals, they ejaculate it to a distance."
"Mr. Knight once observed," says Bevan, "a shower of honey-dew
descending in innumerable small globules, near one of his oak-trees, _on
the 1st of September_; he cut off one of the branches, took it into the
house, and holding it in a stream of light, which was purposely admitted
through a small opening, distinctly saw the aphides ejecting the fluid
from their bodies with considerable force, and this accounts for its
being frequently found in situations where it could not have arrived by
the mere influence of gravitation. The drops that are thus spurted out,
unless interrupted by the surrounding foliage, or some other interposing
body, fall upon the ground; and the spots may often be observed, for
some time, beneath and around the trees affected with honey-dew, till
washed away by the rain. The power which these insects possess of
ejecting the fluid from their bodies, seems to have been wisely
instituted to preserve cleanliness in each individual fly, and indeed
for the preservation of the whole family; for pressing as they do upon
one another, they would otherwise soon be glued together, and rendered
incapable of stirring. On looking steadfastly at a group of these
insects (_Aphides Salicis_) while feeding on the bark of the willow,
their superior size enables us to perceive some of them elevating their
bodies and emitting a transparent substance in the form of a small
shower."
"Nor scorn ye now, fond elves, the foliage sear,
When the light aphids, arm'd with puny spear,
Probe each emulgent vein, till bright below,
Like falling stars, clear drops of nectar glow."
_Evans._
"The _willow_ accommodates the bees in a kind of threefold succession;
from the flowers they obtain both honey and farina;--from the bark
propolis;--and the leaves frequently afford them honey-dew at a time
when other resources are beginning to fail."
"Honey-dew usually appears upon the leaves as a viscid, transparent
substance, as sweet as honey itself, sometimes in the form of globules,
at others resembling a syrup; it is generally most abundant from the
middle of June to the middle of July, sometimes as late as September."
"It is found chiefly upon the _oak_, the _elm_, the _maple_, the
_plane_, the _sycamore_, the _lime_, the _hazel_, and the _blackberry_;
occasionally also on the _cherry_, _currant_, and other fruit trees.
Sometimes only one species of trees is affected at a time. The oak
generally affords the largest quantity. At the season of its greatest
abundance, the happy humming noise of the bees may be heard at a
considerable distance from the trees, sometimes nearly equalling in
loudness the united hum of swarming."
In some seasons, extraordinary quantities of honey are furnished by the
honey-dews, and bees will often, in a few days, fill their hives with
it. If at such times, they can be furnished with empty combs, the amount
stored up by them, will be truly wonderful. No certain reliance,
however, can be placed upon this article of bee-food, as in some years,
there is scarcely any to be found, and it is only once in three or four
years, that it is very abundant. The honey obtained from this source, is
generally of a very good quality, though seldom as clear as that
gathered from the choicest blossoms.
The quality of honey is exceedingly various, some being dark, and often
bitter and disagreeable to the taste, while occasionally it is gathered
from poisonous flowers, and is very noxious to the human system.
An intelligent Mandingo African informed a lady of my acquaintance, that
they do not in his country, dare to eat _unsealed_ honey, until it is
first _boiled_. In some of the Southern States, all unsealed honey is
generally rejected. It appears to me highly probable that the noxious
qualities of the honey gathered from some flowers, is, for the most
part, evaporated, before it is sealed over by the bees, while the honey
is thickening in the cells. Boiling the honey, would, of course, expel
it much more effectually, and it is a well ascertained fact that some
persons are not able to eat even the best honey with impunity, until
after it has been boiled! I believe that if persons who are injured by
honey would subject it to this operation, they would usually find it to
exert no injurious influence on the system. Honey is improved by age,
and many are able to use with impunity, that which has been for a long
time, in the hive, and which seems to be much milder than any freshly
gathered by the bees.
Honey, when taken from the bees, should be carefully put where it will
be safe from all intruders, and where it will not be exposed to so low a
temperature as to candy in the cells. The little red ant, and the large
black ant are extravagantly fond of it, and unless placed where they
cannot reach it, they will soon carry off large quantities. I paste
paper over all my boxes, glasses, &c., so as to make them air-tight, and
carefully store them away for future use. If it is drained from the
combs, it may be kept in tight vessels, although in this state it will
be almost sure to candy. By putting the vessels in water, and bringing
it to the boiling point, it will be as nice as when first strained from
the comb. In this way, I prefer to keep the larger portion of my honey.
The appearance of white honey in the comb, is however, so beautiful,
that many will prefer to keep it in this form, especially, if intended
for sale.
In my hives, it may be taken from the bees, in a great variety of ways.
Some may prefer to construct the main hive in such a form, that the
surplus honey can be taken from it, on the frames. Others will prefer to
take it on frames put in an upper box; (see p. 231.) Glass vessels of
almost any size or form will make beautiful receptacles for the spare
honey. They ought always, however, to have a piece of comb fastened in
them, before they are given to the bees; (see p. 161) and if the weather
is cool, they must be carefully covered with something warm, or they
will part with their heat so quickly, as to discourage the bees from
building in them. Unless warmly covered, glass vessels will often be so
lined with moisture, as to annoy the bees. This is occasioned by the
rapid evaporation of the water from the newly gathered honey, (see
p. 335.) All hives during the height of the gathering season, abound in
moisture, and this no doubt furnishes the bees, for the most part, with
the water they then need.
Honey, when stored in a pint tumbler, just large enough to receive one
comb, has a most beautiful appearance, and may be easily taken out
whole, and placed in an elegant shape upon the table. The expense of
such glass vessels is one objection to their use; the ease with which
they part with their heat, another, and a more serious objection still,
is the fact that the shallow cells, so many of which must be made in a
round vessel, require as large a consumption of honey for their wax
covers, as those which hold more than twice their quantity of honey.
I prefer rectangular boxes made of pasteboard, to any other: they are
neat, warm and cheap; and if a small piece of glass is pasted in one of
their ends, the Apiarian can always see when they are full. When the
honey is taken from the bees, the box has its cover put on, and is
pasted tight, so as to exclude air and insects. In this form, honey may
be packed, and sent to market very conveniently: and when the boxes are
opened, the purchaser can always see the quality of the article which he
buys. The box in which these small boxes of honey are packed in order to
be sent to market, should be furnished with rope handles, so that it can
be easily lifted, without the least jarring. Honey should be handled
with just as much care as glass. A box, four inches wide, will admit of
two combs, and if small pieces of comb are put in the top, the bees will
build them, of the proper dimensions, and will thus make them too large
for brood combs, and of the best size to contain their surplus honey.
The use of my hives enables the Apiarian to get access to all the comb
which he needs for such purposes, and he will find it to his interest,
never to give the bees a box which does not contain some comb, as well
for encouragement as for a pattern. I have never seen the use of
pasteboard boxes suggested, but after experimenting with a great many
materials, I believe they will be found, all things considered,
preferable to any others. Wooden boxes, with a piece of glass, are very
good for storing honey: but they are much more expensive than those made
of pasteboard, and the covers cannot be removed so conveniently.
Honey may be safely removed from the surplus honey boxes of my hives,
even by the most timid. When the outside case which covers the boxes, is
elevated, a shield is thrown between the Apiarian and the bees which are
entering and leaving the hive. Before removing a vessel or box, a thin
knife should be carefully passed under it, so as to loosen the
attachments of the comb to the honey-board, without injuring the bees;
then a small piece of tin or zinc may be pushed under to prevent the
bees that are below, from coming up, when the honey is removed. The
Apiarian should now tap gently on the box, and the bees in it,
perceiving that they are separated from the main hive, will at once
proceed to fill themselves, so as to save as much as possible, of their
precious sweets. In about five minutes, or as soon as they are full, and
run over the combs, trying to get out, the glass or box may at once be
removed, and they will fly directly to the hive with what they have been
able to secure. Bees under such circumstances, _never_ attempt to sting,
and a child of ten years, may remove, with ease and safety, all their
surplus stores. If a person is too timid to approach a hive when any
bees are flying, the honey may be removed towards evening, or early in
the morning, before the bees are flying, in any considerable numbers. In
performing this operation, it should always be borne in mind, that
large quantities of honey should never be taken from them at once,
unless when the honey-harvest is over. Bees are exceedingly discouraged
by such wholesale appropriations, and often refuse entirely, to work in
the empty boxes, even although honey abounds in the fields. Not
unfrequently when large boxes are removed, and being found only
partially filled, are returned, the bees will carry every particle of
honey down into the main hive! If, however, the honey is removed in
small boxes, one at a time, and an empty box with guide comb is put
instantly in its place, the bees, so far from being discouraged, work
with more than their wonted energy, and usually begin in a few hours, to
enlarge the comb.
I would here repeat the caution already given, against needlessly
opening and shutting the hives, or in any way meddling with the bees so
as to make them feel insecure in their possessions. Such a course tends
to discourage them, and may seriously diminish the yield of honey.
If the Apiarian wishes to remove honey from the interior of the hive, he
must remove the combs, as directed on page 195, and shake the bees off,
on the alighting board, or directly into the hive.
PASTURAGE.
Some blossoms yield only pollen, and others only honey; but by far the
largest number, both honey and pollen. Since the discovery that rye
flour will answer so admirably as a substitute, before the bees are able
to gather the pollen from the flowers, early blossoms producing pollen
alone, are not so important in the vicinity of an Apiary. Willows are
among the most desirable trees to have within reach of the bees: some
kinds of willow put out their catkins very early, and yield an
abundance of both bee-bread and honey. All the willows furnish an
abundance of food for the bees; and as there is considerable difference
in the time of their blossoming, it is desirable to have such varieties
as will furnish the bees with food, as long as possible.
The Sugar Maple furnishes a large supply of very delicious honey, and
its blossoms hanging in drooping fringes, will be all alive with bees.
The Apricot, Peach, Plum and Cherry are much frequented by the bees;
Pears and Apples furnish very copious supplies of the richest honey. The
Tulip tree, _Liriodendron_, is probably one of the greatest
honey-producing trees in the world. In rich lands this magnificent tree
will grow over one hundred feet high, and when covered with its large
bell-shaped blossoms of mingled green and golden yellow, it is one of
the most beautiful trees in the world. The blossoms are expanding in
succession, often for more than two weeks, and a new swarm will
frequently fill its hive from these trees alone. The honey though dark
in color, is of a rich flavor. This tree has been successfully
cultivated as a shade tree, even as far North as Southern Vermont, and
for the extraordinary beauty of its foliage and blossoms, deserves to be
introduced wherever it can be made to grow. The Winter of 1851-2, was
exceedingly cold, the thermometer in Greenfield, Mass. sinking as low as
30° below zero, and yet a tulip tree not only survived the Winter
uninjured, but was covered the following season with blossoms.
The American Linden or Bass Wood, is another tree which yields large
supplies of very pure and white honey. It is one of our most beautiful
native trees, and ought to be planted much more extensively than it is,
in our villages and country seats. The English Linden is worthless for
bees, and in many places, has been so infested by worms, as to make it
necessary to cut it down.
The Linden blossoms soon after the white clover begins to fail, and a
majestic tree covered with its yellow clusters, at a season when very
few blossoms are to be seen, is a sight most beautiful and refreshing.
"Here their delicious task, the fervent bees
In swarming millions tend: around, athwart,
Through the soft air the busy nations fly,
Cling to the bud, and with inserted tube,
Suck its pure essence, its etherial soul."
_Thomson._
Our villages would be much more attractive, if instead of being filled
as they often are, almost exclusively with maples and elms, they were
adorned with a greater variety of our native trees. The remark has often
been made, that these trees are much more highly valued abroad than at
home, and that to see them in perfection, we must either visit their
native forests, or the pleasure grounds of some wealthy English or
European gentleman.
Of all the various sources from which the bees derive their supplies,
white clover is the most important. It yields large quantities of very
white honey, and of the purest quality, and wherever it flourishes in
abundance, the honey-bee will always gather a rich harvest. In this
country at least, it seems to be the most certain reliance of the
Apiary. It blossoms at a season of the year when the weather is usually
both dry and hot, and the bees gather the honey from it, after the sun
has dried off the dew: so that its juices are very thick, and almost
ready to be sealed over at once in the cells.
Every observant bee-keeper must have noticed, that in some seasons, the
blossoms of various kinds yield much less honey than in others. Perhaps
no plant varies so little in this respect, as the white clover. This
clover ought to be much more extensively cultivated than it now is, and
I consider myself as conferring a benefit not only on bee-keepers, but
on the agricultural community at large, in being able to state on the
authority of one of New England's ablest practical farmers, and writers
on agricultural subjects, Hon. Frederick Holbrook, of Brattleboro',
Vermont, that the common white clover may be cultivated on some soils to
very great profit, as a hay crop. In an article for the New England
Farmer, for May, 1853, he speaks as follows:--
"The more general sowing of white clover-seed is confidently
recommended. If land is in good heart at the time of stocking it to
grass, white clover sown with the other grass-seeds will thicken up the
bottom of mowings, growing some eight or ten inches high and in a thick
mat, and the burden of hay will prove much heavier than it seemed likely
to be before mowing. Soon after the practice of sowing white clover on
the tillage-fields commences, the plant will begin to show itself in
various places on the farm, and ultimately gets pretty well scattered
over the pastures, as it seeds very profusely, and the seeds are carried
from place to place in the manure and otherwise. The price of the seed
per pound in market is high; but then one pound of it will seed more
land, than two pounds of red clover seed; so that in fact the former is
the cheaper seed of the two, for an acre."
"Red-top, red clover and white clover seeds, sown together, produce a
quality of hay universally relished by stock. My practice is, to seed
all dry, sandy and gravelly lands with this mixture. The red and white
clover pretty much make the crop the first year; the second year, the
red clover begins to disappear, and the red-top to take its place; and
after that, the red-top and white clover have full possession and make
the very best hay for horses or oxen, milch cows or young stock, that I
have been able to produce. The crop per acre, as compared with
herds-grass, is not so bulky; but tested by weight and by spending
quality in the Winter, it is much the most valuable."
"Herds-grass hay grown on moist uplands or reclaimed meadows, and swamps
of a mucky soil, or lands not overcharged with silica, is of good
quality; but when grown on sandy and gravelly soils abounding in silex,
the stalks are hard, wiry, coated with silicates as with glass, and
neither horses nor cattle will eat it as well, or thrive as well on it
as on hay made of red-top and clover; and as for milch cows, they winter
badly on it, and do not give out the milk as when fed on softer and more
succulent hay."
By managing white clover, according to Mr. Holbrook's plan, it might be
made to blossom abundantly in the second crop, and thus lengthen out, to
very great advantage, the pasture for the bees. For fear that any of my
readers might suspect Mr. Holbrook of looking at the white clover,
through a pair of _bee-spectacles_, I would add that although he has ten
acres of it in mowing, he has no bees, and has never particularly
interested himself in this branch of rural economy. When we can succeed
in directing the attention of such men to bee-culture, we may hope to
see as rapid an advance in this as in some other important branches of
agriculture.
Sweet-scented clover, (_Mellilotus Leucantha_,) affords a rich
bee-pasturage. It blossoms the second year from the seed, and grows to a
great height, and is always swarming with bees until quite late in the
Fall. Attempts have been made to cultivate it for the sake of its value
as a hay crop, but it has been found too coarse in its texture, to be
very profitable. Where many bees are kept, it might however, be so
valuable for them as to justify its extensive cultivation. During the
early part of the season, it might be mowed and fed to the cattle, in a
green and tender state, and allowed to blossom later in the season,
when the bees can find but few sources to gather from.
For years, I have attempted to procure, through botanists, a hybrid or
cross between the red and white clover, in order to get something with
the rich honey-producing properties of the red, and yet with a short
blossom into which the honey-bee might insert its proboscis. The red
clover produces a vast amount of food for the bumble-bee, but is of no
use at all to the honey-bee. I had hoped to procure a variety which
might answer all the purposes of our farmers as a field crop. Quite
recently I have ascertained that such a hybrid has been originated in
Sweden, and has been imported into this country, by Mr. B. C. Rogers, of
Philadelphia. It grows even taller than the red clover, bears many
blossoms on a stalk which are small, resembling the white, and is said
to be preferred by cattle, to any other kind of grass, while it answers
admirably for bees.
Buckwheat furnishes a most excellent Fall feed for bees; the honey is
not so well-flavored as some other kinds, but it comes at a season when
it is highly important to the bees, and they are often able to fill
their hives with a generous supply against Winter. Buckwheat honey is
gathered when the dew is upon the blossoms, and instead of being thick,
like white clover honey, is often quite thin; the bees sweat out a large
portion of its moisture, but still they do not exhaust the whole of it,
and in wet seasons especially, it is liable to sour in the cells. Honey
gathered in a dry season, is always thicker, and of course more valuable
than that gathered in a wet one, as it contains much less water.
Buckwheat is uncertain in its honey-bearing qualities; in some seasons,
it yields next to none, and hardly a bee will be seen upon a large
field, while in others, it furnishes an extraordinary supply. The most
practical and scientific agriculturists agree that so far from being an
impoverishing crop, it is on many soils, one of the most profitable that
can be raised. Every bee-keeper should have some in the vicinity of his
hives.
The raspberry, it is well known, is a great favorite with the bees; and
the honey supplied by it, is very delicious. Those parts of New England,
which are hilly and rough, are often covered with the wild raspberry,
and would furnish food for numerous colonies of bees.
It will be observed that thus far, I have said nothing about cultivating
flowers in the garden, to supply the bees with food. What can be done in
this way, is of scarcely any account; and it would be almost as
reasonable to expect to furnish food for a stock of cattle, from a small
grass plat, as honey for bees, from garden plants. The cultivation of
bee-flowers is more a matter of pleasure than profit, to those who like
to hear the happy hum of the busy bees, as they walk in their gardens.
It hardly seems expedient, at least for the present, to cultivate any
field crops except such as are profitable in themselves, without any
reference to the bees.
Mignonnette is excellent for bees, but of all flowers, none seems to
equal the Borage. It blossoms in June, and continues in bloom until
severe frost, and is always covered with bees, even in dull weather, as
its pendant blossoms keep the honey from the moisture; the honey yielded
by it, is of a very superior quality. If any plant which does not in
itself make a valuable crop, would justify cultivation, there is no
doubt that borage would. An acre of it would support a large number of
stocks. If in a village those who keep bees would unite together and
secure the sowing of an acre, in their immediate vicinity, each person
paying in proportion to the number of stocks kept, it might be found
profitable. The plants should have about two feet of space every way,
and after they covered the ground, would need no further attention. They
would come into full blossom, cultivated in this manner, about the time
that the white clover begins to fail, and would not only furnish rich
pasture for the bees, but would keep them from the groceries and shops
in which so many perish.
If those who are engaged in adorning our villages and country residences
with shade trees, would be careful to set out a liberal allowance of
such kinds as are not only beautiful to us, but attractive to the bees,
in process of time the honey resources of the country might be very
greatly increased.
OVERSTOCKING A DISTRICT WITH BEES.
I come now to a point of the very first importance to all interested in
the cultivation of bees. If the opinions which the great majority of
American bee-keepers entertain, are correct, then the keeping of bees
must, in our country, be always an insignificant pursuit. I confess that
I find it difficult to repress a smile, when the owner of a few hives,
in a district where as many hundreds might be made to prosper, gravely
imputes his ill success, to the fact that too many bees are kept in his
vicinity! The truth is, that as bees are frequently managed, they are of
but little value, even though in "a land flowing with milk and honey."
If in the Spring, a colony of bees is prosperous and healthy, (see p.
207) it will gather abundant stores, even if hundreds equally strong,
are in its immediate vicinity, while if it is feeble, it will be of
little or no value, even if there is not another swarm within a dozen
miles of it.
Success in bee-keeping requires that a man should be in some things, a
very close imitator of Napoleon, who always aimed to have an
overwhelming force, at the right time and in the right place; so the
bee-keeper must be sure that his colonies are numerous, just at the time
when their numbers can be turned to the best account. If the bees cannot
get up their numbers until the honey-harvest is well nigh gone, numbers
will then be of as little service as many of the famous armies against
which "the soldier of Europe" contended; which, after the fortunes of
the campaign were decided, only served to swell the triumphant spoils of
the mighty conqueror. A bee-keeper with feeble stocks in the Spring,
which become strong only when there is nothing to get, is like a farmer
who contrives to hire no hands to reap his harvests, but suffers the
crops to rot upon the ground, and then at great expense, hires a number
of stalworth laborers to idle about his premises and eat him out of
house and home!
I do not believe that there is a _single square mile_ in this whole
country, which is overstocked with bees, unless it is one so unsuitable
for bee-keeping as to make it unprofitable to attempt it at all. Such an
assertion will doubtless, appear to many, very unguarded; and yet it is
made advisedly, and I am happy to be able to confirm it, by reference to
the experience of the largest cultivators in Europe. The following
letter from Mr. Wagner, will I trust, do more than I can possibly do in
any other way, to show our bee-keepers how mistaken they are in their
opinion as to the danger of overstocking their districts, and also what
large results might be obtained from a more extensive cultivation of
bees.
YORK, March 16, 1853.
DEAR SIR:
In reply to your enquiry respecting the _overstocking_ of a district, I
would say that the present opinion of the correspondents of the
Bienenzeitung, appears to be that it _cannot readily be done_. Dzierzon
says, in practice at least, "_it never is done_;" and Dr. Radlkofer, of
Munich, the President of the second Apiarian Convention, declares that
his apprehensions on that score were dissipated by observations which he
had opportunity and occasion to make, when on his way home from the
Convention. I have numerous accounts of Apiaries in pretty close
proximity, containing from 200 to 300 colonies each. Ehrenfels had a
thousand hives, at three separate establishments indeed, but so close to
each other that he could visit them all in half an hour's ride; and he
says that in 1801, the average net yield of his Apiaries was $2 per
hive. In Russia and Hungary, Apiaries numbering from 2000 to 5000
colonies are said not to be unfrequent; and we know that as many as 4000
hives are oftentimes congregated, in Autumn, at one point on the heaths
of Germany. Hence I think we need not fear that any district of this
country, so distinguished for abundant natural vegetation and
diversified culture, will very speedily be overstocked, particularly
after the importance of having stocks populous early in the Spring,
comes to be duly appreciated. A week or ten days of favorable weather,
at that season, when pasturage abounds, will enable a _strong_ colony to
lay up an ample supply for the year, if its labor be properly directed.
Mr. Kaden, one of the ablest contributors to the Bienenzeitung, in the
number for December, 1852, noticing the communication from Dr.
Radlkofer, says: "I also concur in the opinion that a district of
country cannot be overstocked with bees; and that, however numerous the
colonies, all can procure sufficient sustenance if the surrounding
country contain honey-yielding plants and vegetables, in the usual
degree. Where utter barrenness prevails, the case is different, of
course, as well as rare."
The Fifteenth Annual Meeting of German Agriculturists was held in the
City of Hanover, on the 10th of September, 1852, and in compliance with
the suggestions of the Apiarian Convention, a distinct section devoted
to bee-culture was instituted. The programme propounded sixteen
questions for discussion, the fourth of which was as follows:--
"Can a district of country embracing meadows, arable land, orchards, and
woodlands or forests, be so overstocked with bees, that these may no
longer find adequate sustenance and yield a remunerating surplus of
their products?"
This question was debated with considerable animation. The Rev. Mr.
Kleine, (nine-tenths of the correspondents of the Bee-Journal are
clergyman,) President of the section, gave it as his opinion that "it
was hardly conceivable that such a country could be overstocked with
bees." Counsellor Herwig, and the Rev. Mr. Wilkens, on the contrary,
maintained that "it might be overstocked." In reply, Assessor Heyne
remarked that "whatever might be supposed possible as an extreme case,
it was certain that as regards the kingdom of Hanover, it could not be
even remotely apprehended that too many Apiaries would ever be
established; and that consequently the greatest possible multiplication
of colonies might safely be aimed at and encouraged." At the same time,
he advised a proper distribution of Apiaries.
I might easily furnish you with more matter of this sort, and designate
a considerable number of Apiaries in various parts of Germany,
containing from 25 to 500 colonies. But the question would still recur,
do not these Apiaries occupy comparatively isolated positions? and at
this distance from the scene, it would obviously be impossible to give a
perfectly satisfactory answer.
According to the statistical tables of the kingdom of Hannover, the
annual production of bees-wax in the province of Lunenburg, is 300,000
lbs., about one half of which is exported; and assuming one pound of wax
as the yield of each hive, we must suppose that 300,000 hives are
annually "_brimstoned_" in the province; and assuming further, in view
of casualties, local influences, unfavorable seasons, &c., that only
one-half of the whole number of colonies maintained, produce a swarm
each, every year, it would require a total of at least 600,000 colonies,
(141, to each square mile,) to secure the result given in the tables.
The number of square miles stocked even to this extent, in this country,
are, I suspect, "few and far between." The Shakers at Lebanon, have
about 600 colonies; but I doubt whether a dozen Apiaries equally large
can be found in the Union. It is very evident, that this country is far
from being overstocked; nor it is likely that it ever will be.
A German writer alleges that "the bees of Lunenburg, pay all the taxes
assessed on their proprietors, and leave a surplus besides." The
importance attached to bee-culture accounts in part for the remarkable
fact that the people of a district so barren that it has been called
"the Arabia of Germany," are almost without exception in easy and
comfortable circumstances. Could not still more favorable results be
obtained in this country under a rational system of management, availing
itself of the aid of science, art and skill?
But, I am digressing. My design was to furnish you with an account of
bee-culture as it exists _in an entire district of country_, in the
hands of _the common peasantry_. This I thought would be more
satisfactory, and convey a better idea of what may be done on a large
scale, than any number of instances which might be selected of splendid
success in isolated cases.
Very truly yours,
SAMUEL WAGNER.
REV. L. L. LANGSTROTH.
The question how far bees will fly in search of honey, has been very
differently answered by different Apiarians. I am satisfied that they
will fly over three miles in search of food, but I believe as a general
rule, that if their food is not within a circle of about two miles in
every direction from the Apiary, they will be able to store up but
little surplus honey. The nearer, the better. In all my arrangements,
(see p. 96.) I have made it a constant study to save _every step_ for
the bees that I possibly can, economizing to the very utmost, their
time, which will all be transmuted into honey; an inspection of the
Frontispiece of this treatise will exhibit the general aspect of the
alighting board of my hives, and will show the intelligent Apiarian,
with what ease bees will enter such a hive, even in very windy weather.
By such arrangements, they will be able to store up more honey, even if
they have to go a considerable distance in search of it, than they would
in many other hives, when the honey abounded in their more immediate
vicinity. Such considerations are entirely overlooked, by most
bee-keepers, and they seem to imagine that they are matters of no
importance. By the utter neglect of any kind of precautions to
facilitate the labors of their bees, you might suppose that they
imagined these delicate insects to be possessed of nerves of steel and
sinews of iron or adamant; or else that they took them for miniature
locomotives, always fired up and capable of an indefinite amount of
exertion. A bee _cannot_ put forth more than a certain amount of
physical exertion, and if a large portion of this is spent in absolutely
fighting against difficulties, from which it might easily be guarded, it
must be very obvious to any one who thinks on the subject at all, that a
great loss must be sustained by its owner.
If some of these thoughtless owners returning home with a heavy burden,
were compelled to fall down stairs half a dozen times before they could
get into the house, they might perhaps think it best to guard their
industrious workers against such discouraging accidents. If bees are
tossed violently about by the winds, as they attempt to enter their
hives, they are often fatally injured, and the whole colony so
_discouraged_, to say nothing more, that they do not gather near so much
as they otherwise would.
The arrangement of my Protector is such that the bees, if blown down,
fall upon a sloping bank of soft grass, and are able to enter the hives
without much inconvenience.
Just as soon as our cultivators can be convinced, by practical results,
that bee-keeping, for the capital invested, may be made a most
profitable branch of rural economy, they will see the importance of
putting their bees into suitable hives, and of doing all that they can,
to give them a fair chance; until then, the mass of them will follow the
beaten track, and attribute their ill success, not to their own
ignorance, carelessness or stupidity, but to their want of "luck," or to
the overstocking of the country with bees. I hope, before many years, to
see the price of good honey so reduced that the poor man can place it on
his table and feast upon it, as one of the cheapest luxuries within his
reach.
On page 20, a statement was given of Dzierzon's experience as to the
profits of bee-keeping. The section of country in which he resides, is
regarded by him as unfavorable to Apiarian pursuits. I shall now give
what I consider a safe estimate for almost any section in our country;
while in unusually favorable locations it will fall far below the
results which may be attained. It is based upon the supposition that the
bees are kept in properly constructed hives so as to be strong early in
the season, and that the increase of stocks is limited to one new one
from two old ones. Under proper management, one year with another,
about ten dollars worth of honey may be obtained for every two stocks
wintered over. The worth of the new colonies, I set off as an equivalent
for labor of superintendence, and interest on the money invested in
bees, hives, fixtures, &c.
A careful, prudent man who will enter into bee-keeping moderately at
first, and extend his operations only as his skill and experience
increase, will, by the use of my hives, find that the preceding estimate
is not too large. Even on the ordinary mode of bee-keeping, there are
many who will consider it rather below than above the mark. If
thoroughly careless persons are determined to "try their luck," as they
call it, with bees, I advise them by all means, in mercy to the bees, to
adopt the non-swarming plan. Improved methods of management with such
persons will be of little or no use, unless you could improve their
habits first, and very often their brains too! Every dollar that such
persons spend upon bees, unless with the slightest possible departure
from the old-fashioned plans, is a dollar worse than thrown away. In
those parts of Europe where bee-keeping is carried on upon the largest
scale, the mass adhere to the old system; this they understand, and by
this they secure a certainty, whereas in our country, thousands have
been induced to enter upon the wildest schemes, or at least to use hives
which could not furnish them the very information needed for their
successful management. A simple box furnished with my frames, will
enable the masses, without departing materially from the common system,
to increase largely the yield from their bees.
In addition to the information given in the Introduction, respecting the
success of Dzierzon's system of management, I have recently ascertained
that one of its ablest opponents in Germany, has become thoroughly
convinced of its superior value. The Government of Norway has
appropriated $300, per annum, for the ensuing three years, towards
diffusing a knowledge of Dzierzon's method, in that country; having
previously despatched Mr. Hanser, Collector of Customs, to Silesia to
visit Mr. Dzierzon, and acquire a practical knowledge of his system of
management. He is now employed in distributing model hives, in the
provinces, and imparting information on improved bee-culture.
NOTE.--The time has hardly come when the attention of any of our
State authorities can be attracted to the importance of bee-culture.
It is only of late that they have seemed to manifest any peculiar
interest in promoting the advancement of agricultural pursuits. A
Department of Agriculture ought to have been established, years ago,
by the National Government at Washington. Let us hope that the
Administration now in power, will establish a lasting claim to the
gratitude of posterity, by taking wise and efficient steps to
advance the agricultural interests of the country. A National
Society to promote these interests has recently been established,
and much may be hoped from its wisdom and energy. Until some
disinterested tribunal can be established, before which all
inventions and discoveries can be fairly tested, honest men will
suffer, and ignorance and imposture will continue to flourish. Lying
advertisements and the plausible misrepresentations of brazen-faced
impostors, will still drain the purses of the credulous, while
thousands, disgusted with the horde of impositions which are palmed
off upon the community, will settle down into a dogged determination
to try nothing new. A society before which every thing, claiming to
be an improvement in rural economy, could be fairly tested, would
undoubtedly be shunned by ignorant and unprincipled men, who now find
it an easy task to procure any number of certificates, but who dread
nothing so much as honest and intelligent investigation. The reports
of such a society after the most thorough trials and examinations,
would inspire confidence, save the community from severe losses, and
encourage the ablest minds to devote their best energies to the
improvement of agricultural implements.
CHAPTER XVII.
THE ANGER OF BEES. REMEDY FOR THEIR STING. BEE-DRESS. INSTINCTS OF BEES.
If the bee was disposed to use, without any provocation, the effective
weapon with which it has been provided, its domestication would be
entirely out of the question. The same remark however, is equally true
of the ox, the horse or the dog. If these faithful servants of man were
respectively determined to use, to the very utmost their horns, their
heels and their teeth, to his injury, he would never have been able to
subject them to his peaceful authority. The gentleness of the honey-bee,
when kindly treated, and managed by those who properly understand its
instincts, has in this treatise been frequently spoken of, and is truly
astonishing. They will, especially in swarming time, or whenever they
are gorged with honey, allow any amount of handling which does not hurt
them, without the slightest show of anger. For the gratification of
others, I have frequently taken them up, by handfuls, suffered them to
run over my face, and even smoothed down their glossy backs as they
rested on my person! Standing before the hives, I have, by a rapid sweep
of my hands, caught numbers of them at once, just as though they were so
many harmless flies, and allowed them, one by one, to crawl out, by the
smallest opening, to the light of day; and I have even gone so far as to
imitate many of the feats which the celebrated English Apiarian,
Wildman, was accustomed to perform; who having once secured the queen of
a hive, could make the bees cluster on his head, or hang, like a flowing
beard, in large festoons, from his chin. Wildman, for a long time, made
as great a mystery of his wonderful performances, as the spirit-rappers
of the present day, do of theirs; but at last, he was induced to explain
his whole mode of procedure; and the magic control which he possessed
over the bees, and which was, by the ignorant, ascribed to his having
bewitched them, was found to be owing entirely to his superior
acquaintance with their instincts, and his uncommon dexterity and
boldness.
"Such was the spell, which round a Wildman's arm
Twin'd in dark wreaths the fascinated swarm;
Bright o'er his breast the glittering legions led,
Or with a living garland bound his head.
His dextrous hand, with firm yet hurtless hold,
Could seize the chief, known by her scales of gold,
Prune 'mid the wondering train her filmy wing,
Or o'er her folds the silken fetter fling."
_Evans._
M. Lombard, a skillful French Apiarian narrates the following
interesting occurrence, which shows how peaceable bees are in swarming
time, and how easily managed by those who have both skill and
confidence.
"A young girl of my acquaintance," he says, "was greatly afraid of bees,
but was completely cured of her fear by the following incident. A swarm
having come off, I observed the queen alight by herself at a little
distance from the Apiary. I immediately called my little friend that I
might show her the queen; she wished to see her more nearly, so after
having caused her to put on her gloves, I gave the queen into her hand.
We were in an instant surrounded by the whole bees of the swarm. In this
emergency I encouraged the girl to be steady, bidding her be silent and
fear nothing, and remaining myself close by her; I then made her stretch
out her right hand, which held the queen, and covered her head and
shoulders with a very thin handkerchief. The swarm soon fixed on her
hand and hung from it, as from the branch of a tree. The little girl was
delighted above measure at the novel sight, and so entirely freed from
all fear, that she bade me uncover her face. The spectators were charmed
with the interesting spectacle. At length I brought a hive, and shaking
the swarm from the child's hand, it was lodged in safety, and without
inflicting a single wound."
The indisposition of bees to sting, when swarming, is a fact familiar to
every practical bee-keeper: but I have not in all my reading or
acquaintance with Apiarians, ever met with a single observation which
has convinced me that the philosophy of this strange fact was thoroughly
understood. As far as I know, I am the only person who has ever
ascertained that when bees are filled with honey, they lose all
disposition to volunteer an assault, and who has made this curious law
the foundation of an extensive and valuable system of practical
management. It was only after I had thoroughly tested its universality
and importance, that I began to feel the desirableness of obtaining a
perfect control over each comb in the hive; for it was only then that I
saw that such control might be made available, in the hands of any one
who could manage bees in the ordinary way. The result of my whole
system, is to make the bees unusually gentle, so that they are not only
peaceable when any necessary operation is being performed, but at all
other times. Even if I could open hives and safely manage at pleasure,
still if the result of such proceedings was to leave the bees in an
excited state, so as to make them unusually irritable, it would all
avail but very little.
There is, however, one difficulty in managing bees so as not to incur
the risk of being stung at all, which attaches to every system of
bee-culture. If an Apiary is approached when the bees are out in great
numbers, thousands and tens of thousands will continue their busy
pursuits without at all interfering with those who do not molest them.
Frequently, however, there will be a few cross bees which come buzzing
around our ears, and seem determined to sting without the very slightest
provocation. From such lawless bees no person without a bee-dress is
absolutely safe. By repeated examinations I have ascertained that
_disease_ is the cause of such unreasonable irritability. I am never
afraid that a healthy bee will attack me unless unusually provoked; and
am always sure as soon as I hear one singing about my ears that it is
incurably diseased. If such a bee is dissected it will be found to
exhibit the unmistakable evidence that a peculiar kind of dysentery has
already fastened upon its system. In the first stages of this complaint
the insect is very irritable, refuses to labor, and seems unable or
unwilling to distinguish friend from foe. As the disease progresses, it
becomes stupid, its body swells up, and is filled with a great mass of
yellow matter, and being unable to fly, it crawls on the ground, in
front of the hive, and speedily perishes. I have never been able to
ascertain the cause of this singular malady, nor can I suggest any
remedy for it. I hope that some scientific Apiarians will investigate it
closely, for if it could only be remedied, we might have hundreds of
colonies on our premises and in our gardens, and yet be perfectly safe.
A person thoroughly acquainted with the leading principles of
bee-culture as they are set forth in this Manual, will _never under any
circumstances_ find it necessary to provoke to fury a colony of bees.
Let it be remembered that nothing can be more terribly vindictive than
a family of bees when thoroughly aroused by gross abuse or unskillful
treatment. Let their hive be suddenly overthrown or violently jarred, or
let them be provoked by the presence of a sweaty horse, or any animal
offensive to them, so that the anger at first manifested by a few, is
extended to the whole community, and the most severe and sometimes
dangerous consequences may ensue. In the same way in the management of
the animals most useful to man, by ignorance or abuse, they may be
roused to a state of frantic desperation, and limbs may be broken, and
often lives destroyed; and yet no one possessed of common sense,
attributes such calamities, except in very rare instances, to any thing
else than carelessness or want of skill. Let it be remembered that even
the most peaceable stock of bees can, in a very few days, by abusive
treatment be taught to look on every living thing as an enemy, and to
sally forth with the most spiteful intentions, as soon as any one
approaches their domicile. How often does it happen that the vicious
beast, which its owner so passionately belabors, is far less to blame
for its obstinacy, than the equally vicious brute who so unmercifully
beats it!
A word now to those timid females who are almost ready to faint, or to
go into hysterics if a bee enters the house, or approaches them in the
garden or fields. Such alarm is entirely uncalled for. It is only in the
vicinity of their homes, and in resistance to what they consider an evil
design upon their very altars and firesides that these insects ever
volunteer an attack. Away from home, they are as peaceably inclined as
you could desire. If you attack them, they are much more eager to escape
than to offer you any annoyance, and they can be induced to sting, only
when they are compressed, either by accident or design.
Let not any of my readers think that they have even a slight
encouragement, from this conduct of the bee, to reserve all their sweet
smiles and honied words for the world abroad, while they give free vent,
in the sacred precincts of home, to ill-natured looks and ill-tempered
language; for towards the occupants of its honied dome, the bee is all
kindness and affection. In the experience of many years I never saw an
instance in which two bees, members of the same family, ever seemed to
be actuated by any but the very kindest feelings toward each other. In
their busy haste they often jostle against each other, but where every
thing is well meant, every thing is well received: tens of thousands all
live together in the sweetest harmony and peace, when very often if
there are only two or three children in a family, the whole household is
tormented by their constant bickerings and contention. Among the bees
the good mother is the honored queen of her happy family; they all wait
upon her steps with unbounded reverence and affection, make way for her
as she moves over the combs, smooth and brush her beautiful plumes,
offer her food from time to time, and in short do all that they possibly
can to make her perfectly happy; while too often children treat their
mothers with irreverence or neglect, and instead of striving with loving
zeal to lighten their labors and save their steps, they treat them more
as though they were servants hired only to wait upon every whim and to
humor every caprice.
Let us pause for a moment, and contemplate further the admirable
arrangement by which the instinct of the bee which disposes it to defend
its treasures, is made so perfectly compatible with the safety both of
man and the domestic animals under his care. Suppose that away from
home, bees were as easily provoked, as they are in the immediate
vicinity of their hives, what would become of our domestic animals among
the clover fields in the pastures? A tithe of the merry gambols they now
so safely indulge in, would speedily bring about them a swarm of these
infuriated insects. In all our rambles among the green fields, we should
constantly be in peril; and no jocund mower would ever whet his
glittering scythe, or swing his peaceful weapon, unless first clad in a
dress impervious to their stings. In short, the bee, instead of being
the friend of man, would be one of his most vexatious enemies, and as
has been the case with the wolves and the bears, every effort would be
made for their utter extermination.
The sting of a bee often produces very painful, and upon some persons,
very dangerous effects. I am persuaded, from the result of my own
observation, that the bee seldom stings those whose systems are not
sensitive to its venom, while it seems to take a special and malicious
pleasure in attacking those upon whom it produces the most painful
effects! It may be that something in the secretions of such persons both
provokes the attack, and causes its consequences to be more severe.
I should not advise persons upon whose system the sting of a bee
produces the most agonizing pain, and violent, if not dangerous
symptoms, to devote any attention to the practical part of an Apiary;
although I am acquainted with a lady who is thus severely affected, and
who yet, strange to say, is a great enthusiast in Apiarian pursuits! I
have met with individuals, upon whom a sting produced the singular
effect of causing their breath to smell like the venom of the enraged
insect! The smell of the poison resembles almost perfectly that of a
ripe banana. It produces a very irritating effect upon the bees
themselves; for if a minute drop of it is extended to them, on a stick,
they at once manifest the most decided anger.
It is well known that the bee is a lover of sweet odors, and that
unpleasant ones are very apt to excite its anger. And here I may as well
speak plainly, and say that bees have a special dislike to persons whose
habits are not cleanly, and particularly to those who bear about them, a
perfume not in the very least resembling those
"Sabean odors
From the spicy shores of Araby the blest,"
of which the poet so beautifully discourses. Those who belong to the
family of the "great unwashed," will find to their cost that bees are
decided foes to all of their tribe. The peculiar odor of some persons,
however cleanly, may account for the fact that the bees have such a
decided antipathy to their presence, in the vicinity of their hives. It
is related of an enthusiastic Apiarian, that after a long and severe
attack of fever, he was never able to take any more pleasure in his
bees; his secretions seem to have undergone some change, so that the
bees assailed him as soon as he ventured to approach their hives.
Nothing is more offensive to bees than the impure breath exhaled from
human lungs; it excites them at once to fury. Would that in their hatred
for impure air, human beings had only a tithe of the sagacity exercised
by bees! It would not be long before the thought of breathing air loaded
with all manner of impurities from human lungs, to say nothing of its
loss of oxygen, would excite unutterable loathing and disgust.
As the smell of a sweaty horse is very offensive to the bees, it is
never safe to allow these animals to go near a hive, as they are
sometimes attacked and killed by the furious insects. Those engaged in
bee-culture on a large scale, will do well to enclose their Apiaries
with a strong fence, so as to prevent cattle from molesting the hives.
If the Apiary is enclosed by a high fence, with sharp and strong
pickets, and the door is furnished with a strong lock, it will prevent
the losses which in some localities are so common from human pilferers.
Such losses may be guarded against, by fastening a wrought iron ring
into the top of each hive, well clinched on the inside; an iron rod may
run through these rings, and thus with two padlocks and fixtures, (one
at each end,) a dozen or more hives may be secured. I am happy to say
that in most localities such precautions are entirely unnecessary. A
place in which the stealing of honey and fruit is practiced by any
except those who are candidates for State's Prison, is in a fair way of
being soon considered as a very undesirable place of residence. If
owners of Apiaries, gardens and orchards, could be induced to pursue a
more liberal policy, and not be so meanly penurious as they often are, I
am persuaded that they would find it conduce very highly to their
interests. The honey and fruit expended with a cheerful, hearty
liberality, would be more than repaid to them in the good will secured,
and in the end would cost much less than bars and bolts. Reader! do not
imagine that I have the least idea that a thoroughly selfish man, can
ever be made to practice this or any other doctrine of benevolence.
Demonstrate it again and again, until even to his narrow and contracted
view it seems almost as clear as light, still he will never find the
heart to reduce it to practice. You might almost as well expect to
transform an incarnate fiend into an angel of light, by demonstrating
that "Wisdom's ways are ways of pleasantness," while "the path of the
transgressor is hard," as to attempt to stamp upon a heart encrusted
with the adamant of selfishness, the noble impress of a liberal spirit.
Of all the senses, that of smell in the bee, seems to be the most
perfect. Huber has demonstrated its exceeding acuteness, by numerous
interesting experiments. If honey is placed in vessels from which the
odor can escape, but in which it cannot be seen, the bees will soon
alight upon them and eagerly attempt to find an entrance. It is by this
sense, unquestionably, that they recognize the members of their own
community, although it seems to us very singular that each colony should
have its own peculiar scent. Not only can two colonies be safely united
by giving them the same odor, but in the same way any number of colonies
may be made to live in perfect peace. If hundreds of hives are all
connected by gauze wire ventilators, so that the air passes freely from
one to another, the bees will all live in absolute harmony, and if any
bee attempts to enter the wrong hive, he will not be molested. The same
result can often be attained by feeding colonies from a common vessel. I
have seen literally hundreds of thousands of bees that after being
treated in this way so as to acquire the same odor, were always gentle
towards each other, while if a single bee from a strange Apiary, lit
upon the feeder, it was sure to be killed.
I have described, (p. 213,) the use which I make of peppermint, in order
to prevent bees from quarreling when they are united. The Rev. Mr.
Kleine, (see p. 359,) in a recent number of the Bienenzeitung, has
recommended the use of another article, which he finds to be very useful
in preventing robbing. His statement would have come in more
appropriately in the Chapter on Robbing, but was not received until too
late. He says that the most convenient and effectual mode of arresting
and repelling the attacks of robbers, is, to impart to the attacked hive
some intensely powerful and unaccustomed odor. He effects this most
readily, by placing a small portion of _musk_ in the attacked hive, late
in the evening, when all the robbers have retreated. On the following
morning, the bees, (provided they have a healthy queen,) will promptly
and boldly meet their assailants, and these in turn are non-plussed by
the unwonted odor, and if any of them enter the hive and carry off some
of the coveted booty, they will not be recognized nor received at home
on their return, on account of their strange smell, but will be at once
seized as strangers, and killed by their own household. Thus the robbing
is speedily brought to a close.
In combination with my blocks, this device might be made very effectual.
When the Apiarian perceives that a hive is being robbed, let him shut up
the entrance: before dusk he can open it and allow the robbers to go
home, and then: put in a small piece of musk: the entrance next day may
be kept so contracted that only a single bee can enter at once. In the
union of stocks the same substance might be used advantageously. A short
time before the process is attempted, each colony might have a small
dose of musk (a piece of musk tied up in a little bag,) and they would
then be sure to agree. I prefer, however, in most cases, the use of
scented sugar-water.
By using my double hives, and putting a small piece of gauze-wire on an
opening made in the partition, the two colonies having the same scent
will always agree; this will be very convenient where they are compelled
to live as such near neighbors, and enables the Apiarian at any time to
unite them and appropriate their surplus stores. These double hives are
admirably adapted to the wants of those who wish to make the smallest
possible departure from the old system, as they need make no change,
except to unite the stocks instead of killing the bees.
I have already remarked that no operation should ever be attempted upon
bees, by which a whole colony is liable to be excited to an ungovernable
pitch of fury. Such operations are _never_ necessary; and a skillful
Apiarian will, by availing himself of the principles laid down in this
Treatise, both easily and safely do everything that is at all desirable,
even to the driving of a powerful colony from an old box hive. When bees
are improperly dealt with, they will "compass" their assailant "about,"
with the most savage ferocity, and woe be to him if they can creep up
his clothes, or find on his person a single unprotected spot! On the
contrary, when not provoked by foolish management or wanton abuse, the
few who are bent on mischief, appear to retain still some touch of
grace, amid all their desperation. Like the thorough bred scold, who by
the elevated pitch of her voice, often gives timely warning to those who
would escape from the sharp sword of her tongue, a bee bent upon
mischief raises its note almost an octave above the peaceable pitch, and
usually gives us timely warning, that it means to sting, if it can. Even
then, it will seldom proceed to extremities, unless it can leave its
sting somewhere upon the face of its victim, and usually as near as
possible to the eye; for bees and all other members of the stinging
tribe, seem to have, as it were, an intuitive perception that this is
the most vulnerable spot upon the "human face divine." If the head is
quietly lowered, and the face covered with the hands, they will often
follow a person for some rods, all the time sounding their war note in
his ears, taunting him for his sneaking conduct, and daring him, just
for one single moment, to look up and allow them to catch but a glimpse
of his coward face!
If a person is suddenly attacked by angry bees, no matter how numerous
or vindictive they may be, not the slightest attempt should ever be made
to act on the offensive. If a single bee is violently struck at, a dozen
will soon be on hand to avenge the insult, and if the resistance is
still continued, hundreds and at last thousands will join in the
attack. The assailed party should quickly retreat from the vicinity of
the hives, to the protection of a building, or if none is near, he
should hide himself in a clump of bushes, and lie perfectly still, with
his head covered, until the bees leave him.
REMEDIES FOR THE STING OF A BEE.
If only a few of the host of remedies, so zealously advocated, could be
made effectual, few persons would have much reason to dread being stung.
Most of them, however, are of no manner of use whatever. Like the
prescriptions of the quack, they are absolutely worse than doing nothing
at all.
The first thing to be done after being stung, is to pull the sting out
of the wound _as quickly as possible_. Even after it is torn from the
body of the bee, (see p. 60,) the muscles which control it, are in
active operation, and it penetrates deeper and deeper into the flesh,
injecting continually more and more of its poison into the wound. Every
Apiarian should have about his person, or close at hand, a small piece
of looking-glass, so that he may be able with the least possible delay
to find and remove a sting. In most cases if it is at once removed, it
will produce no serious consequences; whereas if suffered to empty all
its vials of wrath, it may cause great inflammation and severe
suffering. After the sting is removed, the utmost possible care should
be taken, not to irritate the wound by the very _slightest rubbing_.
However intense the smarting, and of course the disposition to apply
friction to the wound, it should never be done, as the poison will at
once be carried through the circulating system, and severe consequences
may ensue. As most of the popular remedies are rubbed in, they are of
course worse than nothing. Be careful not to _suck_ the wound as so many
persons do; this produces irritation in the same way with rubbing. Who
does not know that a musquito bite, even after the lapse of several
days, may be brought to life again, by violent rubbing or sucking? The
moment that the blood is put into a violent and unnatural circulation,
the poison is quickly diffused over a considerable part of the system.
If the mouth is applied to the wound, other unpleasant consequences may
ensue. While the poison of most snakes and many other noxious animals
affects only the circulating system, and may therefore be swallowed with
impunity, the poison of the bee acts powerfully, not only upon the
circulating system, but upon the organs of digestion. The most
distressing head-aches are often produced by it.
From my own experience, I recommend _cold water_ as the very best remedy
with which I am acquainted, for the sting of a bee. It is often applied
in the shape of a plaster of mud, but may be better used by wetting
cloths and holding them gently to the wound. Cold water seems to act in
two ways. The poison of the bee being very volatile, is quickly
dissolved in water; and the coldness of the water has also a powerful
tendency to check inflammation and to prevent the virus from being taken
up by the absorbents and carried through the system. The leaves of the
plantain, crushed and applied to the wound, will answer as a very good
substitute when water cannot at once be procured. The broad-leafed
plantain, or as some call it, "the toad plantain," is regarded by many
as possessing a very great efficacy. Bevan recommends the use of spirits
of hartshorn, applied to the wound, and says that in cases of severe
stinging its internal use is beneficial. Whatever remedy is applied,
should be used if possible, without a moment's delay. The immediate
extraction of the sting, will be found, even if nothing more is done,
much more efficacious than any remedy that can be applied, after it has
been allowed to remain and discharge all its venom into the wound.
It may be some comfort to those who are anxious to cultivate bees, to
know that after a while the poison will produce less and less effect
upon their system. When I first became interested in bees, a sting was
quite a formidable thing, the pain often being very intense, and the
wound swelling so as sometimes to obstruct my sight. At present, the
pain is usually slight, and if I can only succeed in quickly extracting
the sting, no unpleasant consequences ensue, even if no remedies are
used. Huish speaks of seeing the bald head of Bonner, a celebrated
practical Apiarian, lined with bee stings which seemed to produce upon
him no unpleasant effects. Like Mithridates, king of Pontus, he seemed
almost to thrive upon poison itself!
I have met with a highly amusing remedy very gravely propounded by an
old English Apiarian. I mention it more as a matter of curiosity, than
because I imagine that any of my readers will be likely to make trial of
it. He says, let the person who has been stung, catch as speedily as
possible, another bee, and make it sting on the same spot! It requires
some courage even in an enthusiastic disciple of Huber, to venture upon
such a singular homeopathic remedy; but as this old writer had
previously stated that the oftener a person was stung, the less he
suffered from the venom, and as I had proved, in my own experience, the
truth of this assertion, I determined to make trial of his remedy. I
allowed a bee to sting me upon the finger and suffered the sting to
remain until it had discharged all its venom. I then compelled another
bee to insert its sting as near as possible in the same spot. I used no
remedies of any kind, and had the satisfaction, in my zeal for new
discoveries, of suffering more from the pain and swelling, than I had
previously experienced for years.
An old writer recommends a powder of dried bees, for distressing cases
of stoppages; and some of the highest medical authorities have recently
recommended a tea made by pouring boiling water upon bees, for the same
complaint, while the homeopathic physicians employ the poison of the
bee, which they call _apis_, for a great variety of maladies. That it is
capable of producing intense head-aches any one who has been stung, or
who has tasted the poison, very well knows.
BEE-DRESS.
Timid Apiarians, and all who are liable to suffer severely from the
sting of a bee, should by all means furnish themselves with the
protection of a bee-dress. The great objection to gauze-wire veils or
other materials of which such a dress has been usually made, is that
they obstruct clear vision, so highly important in all operations,
besides producing such excessive heat and perspiration, as to make the
Apiarian peculiarly offensive to the bees. I prefer to use what I shall
call a _bee-hat_, of entirely novel construction. It is made of wire
cloth, the meshes of which are too fine to admit a bee, and yet coarse
enough to allow a free circulation of air, and to permit distinct sight.
The wire cloth should first be fastened together in a circular shape,
like a hat, and large enough to go very easily over the head; its top
may be of cotton cloth, and it should have the same material fastened
around its lower edge, and furnished with strings to draw it so closely
around the neck and shoulders that a bee cannot creep under it. Woolen
stockings may then be drawn over the hands, or better still, India
Rubber gloves, such as are now in very common use, may be worn; these
gloves are impenetrable to the sting of a bee, and yet are so soft and
pliant as scarcely in the least to interfere with the operations of the
Apiarian.
If it were not for the diseased bees of which I have several times
spoken, such precautions would be entirely unnecessary. The best
Apiarians as it is, dispense with them, even at the cost of a sting now
and then.
INSTINCTS OF BEES.
This treatise has already grown to such a length, that I must be
exceedingly brief on a point peculiarly interesting to all who delight
in investigating the wonders of the insect world. In the preceding parts
of the work, numerous proofs have been given of the refined instincts of
the bee. It is impossible always to draw the line between instinct and
reason, and very often some of the actions of animals and insects appear
to be the result of a process of reasoning apparently almost the same
with the exercise of the reasoning faculty in man. "There is this
difference" says Mr. Spence, "between intellect in man, and the rest of
the animal creation. Their intellect teaches them to follow the lead of
their senses, and to make such use of the external world as their
appetites or instincts incline them to,--and _this is their wisdom_:
while the intellect of man, being associated with an immortal principle,
and connected with a world above that which his senses reveal to him,
can, by aid derived from Heaven, control those senses, and render them
obedient to the governing power of his nature; and _this is his
wisdom_."
This subject has seldom been more happily expressed than by Mr. Spence.
The line of distinction between man and the lower orders of creation, is
not the mere fact that he reasons and they do not, but that he has a
moral and accountable nature, while they have nothing of the kind.
"It will be evident," says Bevan, "that though I make a distinction
between the instinct and the reason of bees, I do not confound their
reason with the reason of man. But to obviate all possibility of
misconception, I will at once define my meaning, when I use the terms
insect reason and instinct."
"By _reason_, I mean the power of making deductions from previous
experience or observation, and thereby of adapting means to ends.
_Instinct_ I regard as a disposition and power to perform certain
actions in the same uniform manner, depending upon nice mechanism and
having no reference either to observation or experience; operating on
the means, without anticipation of the end, incited by no hope,
controlled by no foreboding. Those who have attended to this subject,
will be aware that _insect reason_, as above defined, is more restricted
in its functions than _the reason of man_; to which is superadded the
power of distinguishing between the true and the false, and, according
to some metaphysicians, between right and wrong. Reason, in man, has a
regular growth and a slow progression; all the arts he practices evince
skill and dexterity, proportioned to the pains which have been taken in
acquiring them. In the lower links of creation, but little of this
gradual improvement is observable; their powers carry them almost
directly to their object. They are perfect, as Bacon says, in all their
members and organs from the very beginning."
"Far different Man, to higher fates assign'd,
Unfolds with tardier step his Proteus mind,
With numerous Instincts fraught, that lose their force
Like shallow streams, divided in their course;
Long weak, and helpless, on the fostering breast,
In fond dependence leans the infant guest,
Till reason ripens what young impulse taught,
And builds, on sense, the lofty pile of thought;
From earth, sea, air, the quick perceptions rise,
And swell the mental fabric to the skies."
_Evans._
I shall here narrate a very remarkable instance of sagacity which seems
to approach as near to human reason, as any thing in the bee which has
ever fallen under my notice. In the year 1851, I had a small model hive
constructed, into which I temporarily placed a swarm of bees. The
particular object which I had in view, was to test the feasibility of
some plans which I had recently devised, for facilitating the storing of
honey in small tumblers. The bees, in a short time, filled the hive and
stored about a dozen glasses with honey. I was called away from them,
for a few days, and was much surprised, on my return, to find that the
honey which had been stored up in the hive and sealed over for Winter
use, was all gone, and the cells filled with eggs and young worms! The
hive stood in a covered bee house, and the bees had built a large
quantity of comb on the _outside_ of the hive, into which they had
transferred the honey taken from the interior. The object of this
unusual procedure was, beyond all question, to give the poor queen a
place within the hive for laying her eggs: for this purpose they
uncapped and emptied all the cells so carefully sealed over, instead of
using the new comb on the outside for the brood.
Those who wish to study the Natural History of the honey-bee, to the
best advantage, will derive great aid in their investigations, from the
use of my _Observing Hives_. Each comb in these hives is attached to a
movable frame, and they all admit of easy removal. In this respect the
construction of the hive is entirely new, and while it greatly
facilitates the business of observation, it enables the Apiarian, on
the approach of cool weather, to transfer his bees from a hive in which
they cannot winter, to one of the common construction. As soon as the
weather in the Spring is sufficiently warm, they may again be placed in
the observing hive, in which, (as both sides of every comb admit of
inspection,) every bee can be seen, and all the wonders of the hive are
exposed to the full light of day; (see p. 24.) In the common observing
hives experiments are often conducted with great difficulty, by cutting
away parts of the comb, whereas in mine, they can all be performed by
the simple removal of one of the frames, and if the colony becomes
reduced in numbers, it may, in a few moments, be strengthened by helping
it to maturing brood from one of the other hives. A very intelligent
writer in a description of the different hives exhibited at the World's
Fair, in London, lamented that no method had yet been devised of
enabling bees to cluster, in cool weather, in an observing hive, and
that it was found next to impossible to preserve them in such hives over
Winter. By the use of the movable frames, this difficulty is entirely
obviated.
I cannot allow this work to come to a close, without acknowledging my
great obligations to Mr. Samuel Wagner, of York, Pennsylvania. To him I
am indebted for a knowledge of Dzierzon's discoveries, and for many
valuable suggestions scattered throughout the Treatise.