SITUATION OF THE HIVES OUGHT
NEVER TO BE CHANGED.
I have seen people shift about their hives very inconsiderately, but
change of place invariably weakens them, as the bees will return to
their old residence, the environs of which are so familiar to them. A
hive should remain as fixed to the spot as the ancient oaks, in the
hollows of which they delight to establish themselves,--where they
have their young, their companions, their beloved queen, and all their
treasures. When the young bees take wing for the first time, they do it
with great precaution, turning round and round, and fluttering about
the entrance, to examine the hive well before taking flight. They
do the same in returning, so that they may be easily distinguished,
conducting themselves nearly after the same maimer as the workers of a
newly hived swarm.
When they have made a few hundred excursions, they set off without
examining the locality, and, returning in full flight, will know their
own hive in the midst of a hundred others. But if you change its place
you perplex them, much the same as you would be if, during a short
absence, some one lifted your house and placed it a mile off. The
poor bees return loaded, and, seeking in vain for their habitation,
either fall down and perish with fatigue, or throw themselves into the
neighbouring hives, where they are speedily put to death.
The following fact proves how much these precious insects are attached
to place, and how far they retain the recollection of it.
During my residence at Lignieres, where I passed twenty-seven years, I
removed all my hives into the house towards the middle of November, to
guard them from the drifted snow, in which my apiary would sometimes be
buried, and I replaced them again some fine day in March. Having hives
of wood and straw, of different sizes and shapes, I arranged them with
more order and symmetry, and, with this view, I placed the first on
the opposite side of the apiary to where it formerly stood. Although
it had been shut up nearly four months, the bees returned to the same
place they had occupied the year before, which obliged me to return my
hive with all speed, and led me to conclude that they should not be
moved about, and that the bees will not be pliable to our fancies and
caprices.
When hives are transported to a considerable distance, there is no fear
that the bees will return. But this inconvenience would be sure to take
place, and many of the working bees would perish, if they were removed
only a few hundred paces from the spot they have been accustomed
to. The hive may not perish, but it will be greatly weakened. In my
opinion, if the situation is to be changed at all, they should be
removed at least a mile and a half.