Miscellaneous Information.
Stings: their Prevention and Cure 189
Pollen, or Food for Infant-Bees 193
Propolis, or Bees' Cement 195
Pasturage for Bees 197
The Ligurian or Italian Alp Bee 200
Living Bees at the International Exhibition
of 1862, Sending Bees to Australia, &c. 213
Bee-keeping in London 215
Wasps and Moths 223
Draining Honey from the Combs 230
Diseases of Bees 232
General Remarks 238
On the First Flight of Bees in Spring 250
APPENDIX.
Testimonials of the Press.
Great Exhibition of 1851:--
From the "Cottage Gardener" 255
" "Illustrated London News" 255
" "Express" 255
International Exhibition of 1862:--
From the "Illustrated London News" 259
" "Journal of Horticulture" 259
" "Illustrated News of the World" 261
" "Gardener's Weekly Magazine" 261
Bath and West of England Agricultural Show
at Exeter in June, 1863:--
From the "Journal of Horticulture" 264
" "Western Times" 264
" "Devon Weekly Times" 267
" "Exeter Gazette" 267
Royal Agricultural Show, Newcastle, 1864:--
From the "Northern Daily Express" 268
Royal Agricultural Show, Plymouth, 1865:--
From the "Journal of Horticulture" 270
* * * * *
ERRATUM.
At eleventh line from bottom of page 111, for "three," read "those."
[Transcriber Note: Correction seems to have been made.]
DESCRIPTION OF PLATES.
PLATE I.--(Frontispiece.)
1. Queen-Bee.
1_a_. Antenna of ditto.
1_b_. Hind leg of ditto.
1_c_. Front view of head of ditto.
1_d_. Mandible of ditto.
2. Worker, or imperfect female.
2_a_. Antenna of ditto.
2_b_. Hind leg of ditto, inner side showing the pollen-brushes.
2_b_*. Ditto, outer side showing the pollen-basket.
2_c_*. Side view of head.
2_c_. Back view of ditto, showing the junction of the gullet with
the thorax, and position of the tongue and its appendages.
2_d_. Mandible.
3. Male, or drone.
3_a_. Antenna of ditto.
3_b_. Hind leg of ditto.
3_c_. Front view of head of ditto.
3_d_. Mandible of ditto.
A. Enlarged view of the wing. B. Hind edge of fore wing
showing the thickened margin, and fore edge of hind
wing, showing the hooks, which hold on to the thickened
margin of the fore wing and keep them together during
flight.
PLATE II.--<sc>Page 31.</sc>
1. Body of a bee divested of antennæ, legs, and wings, showing
the anatomy of the thorax and natural position of the
stomach.
5* The eyes.
_a._ The ocelli.
_bbb._ The muscles that move the wings.
_c._ The external covering of the thorax.
_ee._ The bases of the wings.
_d._ The honey-bag, or first stomach.
_f._ The ventricle, or true stomach, distended with food.
_g._ The rectum.
_h._ The biliary vessels.
_i._ Portion of the membranous tissue lining the inner surface of
the segments, and enclosing the stomach and intestines.
_q._ The stomach emptied of its contents, to show the muscular
contraction of the ventricle.
_d._ The honey-bag.
_f._ The ventricle.
_g._ The rectum.
_h._ The biliary vessels.
_i._ The ligula, or tongue, and its appendages.
_l._ The base of the ligula.
_m._ Maxillary palpi.
_n._ The maxilla.
_o._ The labial palpi.
_p._ The tongue.
4. The sting and its muscles.
_g._ The attachment of the muscles to the outer covering of the
abdomen.
_r._ Muscles that move the sting.
_s._ Curved base of the sheaths that enclose the sting.
_t._ Poison-bag.
_u._ Glands connected with the poison-bag.
_v._ Honey-plates covering the muscles _r_, and to which the
sheaths of the stings are attached at _s_.
**. Base of sting connecting with the poison-bag _t_.
4*. Magnified view of point of sting, showing the serrations on
each side.
5. Three hexagonal prisms of a bee's eye (Swammerdam).
6. Abdominal plates of the bee, detached to show the wax-cells.
7. Eggs of bee, natural size, and magnified (from Reaumur)
8. Helminthimorphous, or apodal larva of a bee (Reaumur).
[Illustration]
THE APIARY
OR,
BEES, BEE-HIVES, & BEE-CULTURE.
There are two classes of persons for whom bee-culture should have
a strong interest, and two distinct purposes for which the pursuit
may be followed. First, there is the cottager or small farmer, who,
in thousands of instances, might add considerably to his income by
bee-keeping; and, secondly, there is the man of "retired leisure" and
refinement, who, in the personal tendance of an apiary, would find
an easy and interesting occupation, and one which could not fail to
quicken his faculties of general scientific observation. Moreover,
in contemplating the wonderful skill, industry, and prevision of his
insect-artisans, the bee-keeper would find in his apiary constant
illustrations of creative wisdom.
Amongst the humbler classes in the rural districts, the neglect of
bee-keeping is to be attributed to an exaggerated idea of the trouble
needful for the care of a few hives, and also to ignorance of the
easier and more profitable methods of modern management. Many of the
wealthier country or suburban residents, also, are averse to the
personal trouble which they fancy needful in keeping an apiary; and,
perhaps, some gentlemen are more afraid than they would like to own
of that very efficient weapon of defence with which the honey bee is
provided. But the prejudices against bees are quite unnecessary; bees
are as tractable as they are intelligent, and it is the purpose of this
little book to show that bee-culture is an easy and safe, as well as a
deeply interesting, pursuit. Possibly, also, some who do us the favour
to read our detailed explanations will see how the rural clergyman,
or the benevolent landlord, who keeps an apiary of his own, may be
of signal service to his poorer neighbours in explaining to them the
mysteries of bee-keeping.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
I.--NATURAL HISTORY OF THE INHABITANTS OF THE HIVE.
Every hive or bee colony comprises in summer three distinct classes
of bees, each class having functions peculiar to itself, and which
are essential to the well-being of the whole community. As each bee
knows its own proper duties, they all work harmoniously and zealously
together, for the common weal. Certain apparent exceptions to the
good-fellowship of the bees will be hereafter noticed, but those
arise out of essential conditions in the social economy of the bee
community. That _honey bees_ should live in society, as they do in
hives, is absolutely needful. A bee, in an isolated condition, is a
very helpless, delicate little creature, soon susceptible of cold, and
paralysed thereby, unless able to join her companions before night
comes on. By congregating in large numbers, bees maintain warmth,
whatever the external temperature may be.
The three classes of bees are:--the queen-bee, with the pupæ or embryos
intended for queens; the working bees; and the drones, or male bees.
THE QUEEN.
Appropriately styled, by German bee-keepers, the mother-bee, is the
only perfectly developed female among the whole population of each
separate colony. Thus her majesty indisputably sways her sceptre by
a divine right, because she lives and reigns in the hearts of loving
children and subjects.
Dr. Evans[2] introduces the queen-bee to our notice thus:--
"First of the throng, and foremost of the whole.
One 'stands confest the sovereign and the soul.'"
[Footnote 2: Dr. Evans--who may be styled the poet-laureate of the
bees--lived at Shrewsbury, where he practised as a physician. His poem
on bees is written with great taste and careful elaboration, and it
describes the habits of bees with a degree of accuracy only attainable
after continuous scientific observation.]
The queen may very readily be distinguished from the rest of the bees
by the greater length of her body and the comparative shortness of her
wings; her legs are longer, and are not furnished with either brushes
or baskets as those of the working bee, for, being constantly fed by
the latter, she does not need those implements; the upper surface of
her body is of a brighter black than the other bees, whilst her colour
underneath is a yellowish brown;[3] her wings, which do not extend
more than half the length of her body, are sinewy and strong; her long
abdomen tapers nearly to a point; her head is rounder, her tongue more
slender, and not nearly so long, as that of the working bee, and her
sting is curved. Her movements are measured and majestic; as she moves
in the hive the other bees form a circle round her, none venturing to
turn their backs upon her, but all anxious to show that respect and
attention due to her rank and station. Whenever, in the exercise of her
sovereign will, the queen wishes to travel amongst her subjects, she
experiences no inconvenience from overcrowding; although the part of
the hive to which she is journeying may be the most populous, way is
immediately made, the common bees tumbling over each other to get out
of her path, so great is their anxiety not to interfere with the royal
progress.
[Footnote 3: Yellow Italian queens form an exception in point of
colour. See frontispiece, fig. I.]
It is the chief function of the queen to lay the eggs from which all
future bees originate, the multiplication of the species being the
purpose of her existence; and she follows it up with an assiduity
similar to that with which the workers construct combs or collect
honey. A queen is estimated to lay in the breeding season from 1,500 to
2,000 eggs a-day, and in the course of one year is supposed to produce
more than 100,000 bees. This is indeed a vast number; but when there
is taken into consideration the great number required for swarms, the
constant lessening of their strength by death in various ways, and the
many casualties attending them in their distant travels in search of
the luscious store, it does not seem that the case is over-stated.
In a Glass Unicomb Hive,--which we shall hereinafter describe,--all the
movements of the queen-bee may be traced; she may be seen thrusting
her head into a cell to discover whether it be occupied with an egg or
honey, and if empty, she turns round in a dignified manner and inserts
her long body--so long, that she is able to deposit the egg at the
bottom of the cell; she then passes on to another, and so continues
industriously multiplying her laborious subjects. It not unfrequently
happens when the queen is prolific, and if it be an early season, that
many eggs are wasted for want of unoccupied cells; for in that case
the queen leaves them exposed at the bottom of the hive, when they are
greedily devoured by the bees.
The queen-bee, unlike the great majority of her subjects, is a stayer
at home; generally speaking, she only quits the hive twice in her life.
. The first occasion is on the all-important day of her marriage, which
always takes place at a great height in the air, and generally on the
second or third day of her princess-life; she never afterwards leaves
the hive, except to lead off an emigrating swarm. Evans, with proper
loyalty, has duly furnished a glowing epithalamium for the queen-bee
thus:--
"When noon-tide Sirius glares on high,
Young love ascends the glowing sky,
From vein to vein swift shoots prolific fire,
And thrills each insect fibre with desire;
Then Nature, to fulfil thy prime decree,
Wheels round, in wanton rings, the courtier Bee;
Now shyly distant, now with bolder air,
He woos and wins the all-complying fair;
Through fields of ether, veiled in vap'ry gloom
They seek, with amorous haste, the nuptial room;
As erst the immortal pair, on Ida's height,
Wreath'd round their noon of joy ambrosial night."
The loyalty and attachment of bees to their queen is one of their most
remarkable characteristics; they constantly supply her with food, and
fawn upon and caress her, softly touching her with their antennæ--a
favour which she occasionally returns. When she moves about the hive,
all the bees through whom she successively passes pay her the same
homage; those whom she leaves behind in her track close together, and
resume their accustomed occupations.
The majestic deportment of the queen-bee and the homage paid to her is,
with a little poetic licence, thus described by Evans:--
"But mark, of royal port and awful mien,
Where moves with measured pace the insect Queen!
Twelve chosen guards, with slow and solemn gait,
Bend at her nod, and round her person wait."
This homage is, however, only paid to matron queens. Whilst they
continue princesses, they receive no distinctive marks of respect.
Dr. Dunbar, the noted Scotch apiarian, observed a very striking
instance of this whilst experimenting on the combative qualities of
the queen-bee "So long," says he, "as the queen which survived the
rencontre with her rival remained a virgin, not the slightest degree
of respect or attention was paid her; not a single bee gave her food;
she was obliged, as often as she required it, to help herself; and in
crossing the honey cells for that purpose, she had to scramble, often
with difficulty, over the crowd, not an individual of which got out of
her way, or seemed to care whether she fed or starved: but no sooner
did she become a mother, than the scene was changed, and all testified
towards her that most affectionate attention, which is uniformly
exhibited to fertile queens."
The queen-bee, though provided with a sting, never uses it on any
account, except in combat with her sister-queens. But she admits of
no rival to her throne; almost her first act, on coming forth from
the cell, is an attempt to tear open and destroy the cells containing
the pupæ of princesses likely to become competitors. Should it so
happen that another queen of similar age does exist in the hive at the
same time, the two are speedily brought into contact with each other,
in order to fight it out and decide by a struggle, mortal to one of
them, which is to be the ruler;--the stronger of course is victorious,
and remains supreme. This, it must be admitted, is a wiser method of
settling the affair than it would be to range the whole hive under
two distinct banners, and so create a civil war, in which the members
of the rival bands would kill and destroy each other for matters they
individually have little or no concern about: for the bees care not
which queen it is, so long as they are certain of having one to rule
over them and perpetuate the community.
After perusing the description given above of the attachment of bees
to their queen, it may be easy to imagine the consternation a hive
is thrown into when deprived of her presence. The bees first make a
diligent search for their monarch in the hive, and then afterwards rush
forth in immense numbers to seek her. When such a commotion is observed
in an apiary, the experienced bee-master will repair the loss by giving
a queen: the bees have generally their own remedy for such a calamity,
in their power of raising a new queen from amongst their larvæ; but
if neither of these means be available, the whole colony dwindles and
dies. The following is the method by which working bees provide a
successor to the throne when deprived of their queen by accident, or in
anticipation of the first swarm, which is always led by the old queen:--
They select, when not more than three days old, an egg or grub
previously intended for a worker-bee, and then enlarge the cell so
selected by destroying the surrounding partitions; they thus form a
royal cradle, in shape very much like an acorn cup inverted. The
chosen embryo is then fed liberally with a peculiar description of
nurture, called by naturalists "royal jelly"--a pungent food, prepared
by the working bees exclusively for those of the larvae that are
destined to become candidates for the honour of royalty. Should a queen
be forcibly separated from her subjects, she resents the interference,
refuses food, pines, and dies.
The whole natural history of the queen-bee is in itself a subject
that will well repay for continuous study. Those who desire to follow
it, we would refer to the complete works of Huber--the greatest of
apiarians,--Swammerdam, Bevan, Langstroth, &c. The observations upon
the queen-bee needful to verify the above-mentioned facts can only
be made in hives constructed for the purpose, of which the "Unicomb
Observatory Hive" is the best. In ordinary hives the queen is scarcely
ever to be seen; where there are several rows of comb, she invariably
keeps between them, both for warmth and to be more secure from danger.
The writer has frequently observed in stocks which have unfortunately
died, that the queen was one of the last to expire; and she is always
more difficult to gain possession of than other bees, being by instinct
taught that she is indispensable to the welfare of her subjects.
The queen enjoys a far longer life than any of her subjects, her age
generally extending to four, or even five years. The drones, which are
mostly hatched in the early spring, seldom live more than three or
four months, even if they should escape the sting of the executioner,
to which they generally fall victims. The worker-bee, it is now a
well-ascertained fact, lives from six to eight months, in no case
exceeding the latter; so that we may reckon that the bees hatched in
April and May expire about the end of the year; and it is those of the
autumn who carry on the duties of the hive until the spring and summer,
that being the time when the greatest number of eggs are laid. The
population of a hive is very small during the winter, in comparison
with the vast numbers gathering produce in the summer,--produce which
they themselves live to enjoy but for a short period. So that not only,
as of old, may lessons of industry be learned from bees, but they also
teach self-denial to mankind, since they labour for the community
rather than for themselves. Evans, in describing the age of bees,
thus paraphrases the well known couplet of Homer, in allusion to the
fleeting generations of men:--
"Like leaves on trees the race of bees is found.
Now green in youth, now withering on the ground;
Another race the spring or fall supplies,
They droop successive, and successive rise."
THE DRONE.
The drones are male bees; they possess no sting, are more hairy and
larger than the common bee, and may be easily distinguished by their
heavy motion, thick-set form, and louder humming. Evans thus describes
the drones:--
"Their short proboscis sips
No luscious nectar from the wild thyme's lips;
From the lime leaf no amber drops they steal,
Nor bear their grooveless thighs the foodful meal:
On others' toils, in pampered leisure, thrive
The lazy fathers of the industrious hive;
Yet oft, we're told, these seeming idlers share
The pleasing duties of parental care;
With fond attention guard each genial cell,
And watch the embryo bursting from the shell."
But Dr. Evans had been "told" what was not correct when he sought to
dignify drones with the office of "nursing fathers,"--that task is
undertaken by the younger of the working bees. No occupation falls
to the lot of the drones in gathering honey, nor have they the means
provided them by Nature for assisting in the labours of the hive. The
drones are the progenitors of working bees, and nothing more; so far as
is known, that is the only purpose of their short existence.
In a well-populated hive the number of drones is computed at from
one to two thousand. "Naturalists," says Huber, "have been extremely
embarrassed to account for the number of males in most hives, and
which seem only a burden to the community, since they appear to
fulfil no function. But we now begin to discern the object of Nature
in multiplying them to such an extent. As fecundation cannot be
accomplished within the hive, and as the queen is obliged to traverse
the expanse of the atmosphere, it is requisite that the males should be
numerous, that she may have the chance of meeting some one of them in
her flight. Were only two or three in each hive, there would be little
probability of their departure at the same instant with the queen, or
that they would meet her in their excursions; and most of the females
might thus remain sterile." It is important for the safety of the
queen-bee that her stay in the air should be as brief as possible: her
large size and slowness of flight render her an easy prey to birds.
It is not now thought that the queen always pairs with a drone of the
_same_ hive, as Huber seems to have supposed. The drone that happens to
be the selected husband is by no means so fortunate as at first sight
may appear, for it is a law of nature that the bridegroom does not
survive the wedding-day. Her majesty, although thus left, a widowed,
is by no means a sorrowful, bride, for she soon becomes the happy
mother of a large family. It cannot be said that she pays no respect
to the memory of her departed lord, for she never marries again.
Once impregnated,--as is the case with most insects,--the queen-bee
continues productive during the remainder of her existence. It has,
however, been found that though old queens cease to lay worker eggs,
they may continue to lay those of drones. The swarming season being
over,--that is about the end of July,--a general massacre of the "lazy
fathers" takes place. Dr. Bevan, in the "Honey Bee," observes on this
point: "The work of the drones being now completed, they are regarded
as useless consumers of the fruits of others' labour; love is at once
converted into hate, and a general proscription takes place. The
unfortunate victims evidently perceive their danger, for they are never
at this time seen resting in one place, but darting in and out of the
hive with the utmost precipitation, as if in fear of being seized."
Their destruction is thought, by some, to be caused by their being
harassed until they quit the hive; but Huber says he ascertained that
the death of the drones was caused by the stings of the workers.
Supposing the drones come forth in May, which is the average period
of their being hatched, their destruction takes place somewhere about
the commencement of August, so that three months is the usual extent
of their existence; but should it so happen that the usual development
of the queen has been retarded, or that the hive has by chance been
deprived of her, the massacre of the drones is deferred. In any case,
the natural term of the life of drone-bees does not exceed four months,
so that they are all dead before the winter, and are not allowed to be
useless consumers of the general store.
THE WORKER-BEE.
The working bees form, by far, the most numerous class of the three
kinds contained in the hive, and least of all require description.
They are the smallest of the bees, are dark brown in colour, or nearly
black,[4] and much more active on the wing than are either drones
or queens. The usual number in a healthy hive varies from twelve to
thirty thousand; and, previous to swarming, exceeds the larger number.
The worker-bee is of the same sex as the queen, but is only partially
developed. Any egg of a worker-bee--by the cell being enlarged,
as already described, and the "royal jelly" being supplied to the
larva--may be hatched into a mature and perfect queen. This, one of
the most curious facts connected with the natural history of bees, may
be verified in any apiary by most interesting experiments, which may
be turned to important use. With regard to the supposed distinctions
between "nursing" and working bees, it is now agreed that it only
consists in a division of labour, the young workers staying at home
to feed the larvæ until they are themselves vigorous enough to range
the fields in quest of supplies. But, for many details of unfailing
interest, we must again refer our readers to the standard works on
bees that have already been named.
[Footnote 4: Italian workers form an exception in point of colour. See
Plate I., fig. 2.]
THE EGGS OF BEES.
It is necessary that some explanation should be given as to the
existence of the bee before it emerges from the cell.
The eggs (Plate II., fig. 7) of all the three kinds of bees, when
first deposited, are of an oval shape, and of a pearly-white colour.
In four or five days the egg changes to a worm, and in this stage is
known by the names of larva or grub (Plate II., fig. 8), in which state
it remains four to six days more. During this period it is fed by the
nurse-bees with a mixture of farina and honey, a constant supply of
which is given to it. The next transformation is to the nymph or pupa
form. The nurse-bees now seal up the cells with a preparation similar
to wax, and then the pupa spins round itself a film or cocoon, just as
a silkworm does in its chrysalis state. The microscope shows that this
cradle-curtain is perforated with very minute holes, through which the
baby-bee is duly supplied with air. No further attention on the part of
the bees is now requisite, except a proper degree of heat, which they
take care to keep up--a position for the breeding cells being selected
in the centre of the hive, where the temperature is likely to be most
congenial.
Twenty-one days after the egg is first laid (unless cold weather
should have retarded it) the bee quits the pupa state, and, nibbling
its way through the waxen covering that has enclosed it, comes forth
a winged insect. The eggs of drones require twenty-four days, and
those of queens sixteen days, to arrive at maturity, and are hatched
in warm summer weather, a higher temperature being necessary. In the
Unicomb Observatory Hives, the young bees may distinctly be seen as
they literally fight their way into the world, for the other bees do
not take the slightest notice, nor afford them any assistance. We have
frequently been amused in watching the eager little new-comer, now
obtruding its head, and anon compelled to withdraw into the cell to
escape being trampled on by the apparently unfeeling throng, until at
last it has succeeded in making its exit. The little grey creature,
after brushing and shaking itself, enters upon its duties in the hive,
such as the nursing before alluded to, or secreting wax, and in (say) a
week issues forth to the more laborious occupation of gathering honey
in the fields--thus early illustrating that character for industry
which has been proverbial at least since the days of Aristotle, and
which has in our day been rendered familiar even to infant minds
through the nursery rhymes of Dr. Watts.
INCREASE OF BEES.
Every one is familiar with the natural process of "swarming," by which
bees provide themselves with fresh space, and seek to plant colonies to
absorb their increase of population. But the object of the bee-master
is to train and educate his bees, and in so doing he avoids much of
the risk and trouble which is incurred by allowing the busy folk to
follow their own devices. The various methods for this end adopted by
apiarians all come under the term of the "depriving" system, and they
form part of the great object of humane and economical bee-keeping,
which is to save the bees alive instead of slaughtering them, as under
the old clumsy system. A very natural question is often asked:--How
is it that, upon the depriving system, where our object is to prevent
swarming, the increase of numbers is not so great as upon the old plan?
It will be seen that the laying of eggs is performed by the queen only,
and that there is but one queen to each hive; so that where swarming
is prevented, there remains only one hive or stock, as the superfluous
princesses are not allowed to come to maturity. If all those princesses
were to become monarchs, or mother-bees, and to emigrate with a
proportionate number of workers, increase would be going on more
rapidly; but the old stock would be so impoverished thereby as possibly
to yield no surplus honey, whilst the swarms might come off too late
for them to collect sufficient store whereon to grow populous enough to
withstand the winter.
With bees, as with men, "union is strength;" and it is often better
to induce them to remain as one family, rather than to part numbers
at a late period of the honey-gathering season, without a prospect
of supporting themselves, and so perish from cold and hunger during
the ordeal of the winter season. Would it not in such cases have
been better for the little folk, to have kept under one roof through
the winter, and to have been able to take full advantage of the
following early spring? This is one of the great secrets of successful
bee-keeping.
Our plan of giving additional store-room will, generally speaking,
prevent swarming. This stay-at-home policy, we contend, is an
advantage; for instead of the loss of time consequent upon a swarm
hanging out preparatory to flight, all the bees are engaged in
collecting honey, and that at a time when the weather is most
favourable and the food most abundant. Upon the old system, the swarm
leaves the hive simply because the dwelling has not been enlarged at
the time when the bees are increasing. The emigrants are always led off
by the old queen, leaving either young or embryo queens to lead off
after-swarms, and to furnish a mistress for the old stock, and carry
on the multiplication of the species. Upon the antiquated and inhuman
plan, where so great a destruction takes place by the brimstone match,
breeding must, of course, be allowed to go on to its full extent to
make up for such sacrifices. Our chief object under the new system' is
to obtain honey free from all extraneous matter. Pure honey cannot be
gathered from combs where storing and breeding are performed in the
same compartment. For fuller explanations on this point, we refer to
the various descriptions of our improved hives in a subsequent section
of this work.
There can now be scarcely two opinions as to the uselessness of the
rustic plan of immolating the poor bees after they have striven through
the summer so to "improve each shining hour." The ancients in Greece
and Italy took the surplus honey and spared the bees, and now for every
intelligent bee-keeper there are ample appliances wherewith to attain
the same results. Mr. Langstroth quotes from the German the following
epitaph, which, he says, "might be properly placed over every pit of
brimstoned bees":--
=Here rests,=
CUT OFF FROM USEFUL LABOUR,
A COLONY OF
INDUSTRIOUS BEES,
BASELY MURDERED
BY ITS
UNGRATEFUL AND IGNORANT
OWNER.
And Thomson, the poet of "The Seasons," has recorded an eloquent poetic
protest against the barbarous practice, for which, however, in his day
there was no, alternative:--
"Ah! see where, robbed and murdered in that pit.
Lies the still-heaving hive! at evening snatched,
Beneath the cloud of guilt-concealing night,
And fix'd o'er sulphur! while, not dreaming ill,
The happy people, in their waxen cells,
Sat tending public cares.
Sudden, the dark, oppressive steam ascends,
And, used to milder scents, the tender race
By thousands tumble from their honied dome,
Into a gulf of blue sulphureous flame!"
It will be our pleasing task, in subsequent chapters, to show "a more
excellent way."
SWARMING.
The spring is the best period at which to commence an apiary, and
swarming-time is a good starting-point for the new bee-keeper. The
period known as the swarming season is during the months of May and
June. With a very forward stock, and in exceedingly fine weather, bees
do occasionally swarm in April. The earlier the swarm, the greater is
its value. If bees swarm in July, they seldom gather sufficient to
sustain themselves through the winter, though by careful feeding they
may easily be kept alive, if hived early in the month.
The cause of a swarm leaving the stock-hive is, that the population
has grown too large for it. Swarming is a provision of Nature for
remedying the inconvenience of overcrowding, and is the method whereby
the bees seek for space in which to increase their stores. By putting
on "super-hives," the required relief may, in many cases, be given
to them; but should the multiplication of stocks be desired, the
bee-keeper will defer increasing the space until the swarm has issued
forth. In May, when the spring has been fine, the queen-bee is very
active in laying eggs, and the increase in a strong, healthy hive is
so prodigious that emigration is necessary, or the bees would cease to
work.
It is now a well-established fact that the old queen goes forth with
the first swarm, preparation having been made to supply her place as
soon as the bees determine upon the necessity of a division of their
commonwealth. Thus the sovereignty of the old hive, after the first
swarm has issued, devolves upon a young queen.
As soon as the swarm builds combs in its new abode, the emigrant-queen,
being impregnated and her ovaries full, begins laying eggs in the
cells, and thereby speedily multiplies the labourers of the new colony.
Although there is now amongst apiarians no doubt that the old queen
quits her home, there is no rule as to the composition of the swarm:
old and young alike depart. Some show unmistakable signs of age by
their ragged wings, others their extreme youth by their lighter colour;
how they determine which shall stay and which shall go has not yet been
ascertained. In preparation for flight, bees commence filling their
honey bags, taking sufficient, it is said, for three days' sustenance.
This store is needful, not only for food, but to enable the bees to
commence the secretion of wax and the building of combs in their new
domicile.
On the day of emigration, the weather must be fine, warm, and clear,
with but little wind stirring; for the old queen, like a prudent
matron, will not venture out unless the day is in every way favourable.
Whilst her majesty hesitates, either for the reasons we have mentioned,
or because the internal arrangements are not sufficiently matured, the
bees will often fly about or hang in clusters at the entrance of the
hive for two or three days and nights together, all labour meanwhile
being suspended. The agitation of the little folk is well described by
Evans:--
"See where, with hurried step, the impassioned throng
Pace o'er the hive, and seem, with plaintive song,
T' invite the loitering queen; now range the floor,
And hang in cluster'd columns from the door;
Or now in restless rings around they fly,
Nor spoil thy sip, nor load the hollowed thigh;
E'en the dull drone his wonted ease gives o'er,
Flaps his unwieldy wings, and longs to soar."
But when all is ready, a scene of the most violent agitation takes
place; the bees rush out in vast numbers, forming quite a dark cloud as
they traverse the air.
The time selected for the departure of the emigrants is generally
between 10 A.M. and 3 P.M.; most swarms come off within an hour of
noon. It is a very general remark that bees choose a Sunday for
swarming, and probably this is because then greater stillness reigns
around. It will not be difficult to imagine that the careful bee-keeper
is anxious to keep a strict watch, lest he should lose such a treasure
when once it takes wing. The exciting scene at a bee-swarming has been
well described by the apiarian laureate:--
"Up mounts the chief, and, to the cheated eye,
Ten thousand shuttles dart along the sky;
As swift through æther rise the rushing swarms,
Gay dancing to the beam their sunbright forms;
And each thin form, still lingering on the sight,
Trails, as it shoots, a line of silver light.
High poised on buoyant wing, the thoughtful queen,
In gaze attentive, views the varied scene,
And soon her far-fetched ken discerns below,
The light laburnum lift her polished brow,
Wave her green leafy ringlets o'er the glade.
Swift as the falcon's sweep the monarch bends
Her flight abrupt: the following host descends;
Round the fine twig, like clustered grapes they close
In thickening wreaths, and court a short repose."
In many country districts it is a time-honoured custom for the good
folks of the village to commence on such occasions a terrible noise
of tanging and ringing with frying-pan and key. This is done with
the absurd notion that the bees are charmed with the clangorous din,
and may by it be induced to settle as near as possible to the source
of such sweet sounds. This is, however, quite a mistake: there are
other and better means for the purpose. The practice of ringing was
originally adopted for a different and far more sensible object--viz.,
for the purpose of giving notice that a swarm had issued forth, and
that the owner was anxious to claim the right of following, even
though it should alight on a neighbour's premises. It would be curious
to trace how this ancient ceremony has thus got corrupted from the
original design.
In case the bees do not speedily after swarming manifest signs of
settling, a few handfuls of sand or loose mould may be thrown up in the
air so as to fall among the winged throng; they mistake this for rain,
and then very quickly determine upon settling. Some persons squirt a
little water from a garden engine in' order to produce the same effect.
There are, indeed, many ingenious devices used by apiarians for
decoying the swarms. Mr. Langstroth mentions a plan of stringing dead
bees together, and tying a bunch of them on any shrub or low tree upon
which it is desirable that they should alight; another plan is, to
hang some black woven material near the hives, so that the swarming
bees may be led to suppose they see another colony, to which they will
hasten to attach themselves. Swarms have a great affinity for each
other when they are adrift in the air; but, of course, when the union
has been effected, the rival queens have to do battle for supremacy. A
more ingenious device than any of the above is by means of a mirror, to
flash a reflection of the sun's rays amongst a swarm, which bewilders
the bees, and checks their flight. It is manifestly often desirable
to use some of these endeavours to induce early settlement, and to
prevent, if possible, the bees from clustering in high trees or under
the eaves of houses, where it may be difficult to hive them.
Should prompt measures not be taken to hive the bees as soon as the
cluster is well formed, there is danger of their starting on a second
flight; and this is what the apiarian has so much to dread. If the bees
set off a second time, it is generally for a long flight, often for
miles, so that in such a case it is usually impossible to follow them,
and consequently a valuable colony may be irretrievably lost.
Too much care cannot be exercised to prevent the sun's rays falling
on a swarm when it has once settled. If exposed to heat in this way,
bees are very likely to decamp. We have frequently stretched matting or
sheeting on poles, so as to intercept the glare, and thus render their
temporary position cool and comfortable.
Two swarms sometimes depart at the same time, and join together; in
such a case, we recommend that they be treated as one, by putting them
into a hive as before described, taking care to give abundant room and
not to delay affording access to the super hive or glasses. They will
settle their own notions of sovereignty by one queen destroying the
other. There are means of separating two swarms, if done at the time;
but the operation is a formidable one, and does not always repay even
those most accustomed to such manipulation.
With regard to preparations for taking a swarm, our advice to the
bee-keeper must be the reverse of Mrs. Glass's notable injunction as to
the cooking of a hare. Some time before you expect to take a swarm, be
sure to have a suitable hive in which to take it, and also every other
requisite properly ready. Here we will explain what was said in the
introduction as to the safety of moving and handling bees. A bee-veil
or dress will preserve the most sensitive from the possibility of being
stung. This article, which may be bought with the hives, is made of
net close enough to exclude bees, but open enough for the operator's
vision. It is made to go over the hat of a lady or cap of a gentleman;
it closes round the waist, and has sleeves fastening at the wrist. A
pair of photographer's india-rubber gloves completes the full dress of
the apiarian, who is then invulnerable, even to enraged bees. But bees
when swarming are in an eminently peaceful frame of mind; having dined
sumptuously, they require to be positively provoked before they will
sting. Yet there may be one or two foolish bees who, having neglected
to fill their honey bags, are inclined to vent their ill-humour on
the kind apiarian. When all is ready, the new hive is held or placed
in an inverted position under the cluster of bees, which the operator
detaches from their perch with one or two quick shakes; the floor-board
is then placed on the hive, which is then slowly turned up on to its
base, and it is well to leave it a short time in the same place, in
order to allow of stragglers joining their companions.
If the new swarm is intended for transportation to a distance, it is
as well for it to be left at the same spot until evening, provided the
sun is shaded from it: but if the hive is meant to stand in or near
the same garden, it is better to remove it within half an hour to its
permanent position, because so eager are newly-swarmed bees for pushing
forward the work of furnishing their empty house, that they sally forth
at once in search of materials.
A swarm of bees, in their natural state, contains from 10,000 to 20,000
insects, whilst in an established hive of Italian bees they number
40,000 and upwards. Five thousand bees are said to weigh one pound; a
good swarm will weigh from three to five pounds. We have known swarms
not heavier than 2½ pounds that were in very excellent condition in
August as regards store for the winter.
Hitherto, all our remarks have had reference to first or "prime"
swarms; these are the best, and when a swarm is purchased, such should
be bargained for.
Second swarms, known amongst cottage bee-keepers as "casts," usually
issue from the hive nine or ten days after the first has departed.
It is not always that a second swarm issues, so much depends on the
strength of the stock, the weather, and other causes; but should the
bees determine to throw out another, the first hatched queen in the
stock-hive is prevented by her subjects from destroying the other
royal princesses, as she would do if left to her own devices. The
consequence is that, like some people who cannot have their own way,
she is highly indignant; and, when thwarted in her purpose, utters, in
quick succession, shrill, angry sounds, much resembling "_Peep, peep_,"
commonly called "piping," but which more courtly apiarians have styled
the _vox regalis_.
This royal wailing continues during the evening, and is sometimes so
loud as to be distinctly audible many yards from the hive. When this is
the case, a swarm may be expected either on the next day, or at latest
within three days. The second swarm is not quite so chary of weather
as the first; it was the _old_ lady who exercised so much caution,
disliking to leave home except in the best of summer weather.
In some instances, owing to favourable breeding seasons and prolific
queens, a third swarm issues from the hive; this is termed a "colt:"
and, in remarkable instances, even a fourth, which in rustic phrase is
designated a "filly." A swarm from a swarm is called a "maiden" swarm,
and, according to bee theory, will again have the old queen for its
leader.
The bee-master should endeavour to prevent his labourers from swarming
more than once; his policy is rather to encourage the industrious
gathering of honey, by keeping a good supply of "supers" on the hives.
Sometimes, however, he may err in putting on the supers too early or
unduly late, and the bees will then swarm a second time, instead of
making use of the store-rooms thus provided. In such a case, the clever
apiarian, having spread the swarm on the ground, will select the queen,
and cause the bees to go back to the hive from whence they came. This
operation requires an amount of apiarian skill which, though it may
easily be attained, is greater than is usually possessed.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: Plate II.
E. W. Robinson Delt. et Sc P 1865.]
[Illustration]
II.--ANATOMY AND PHYSIOLOGY OF THE BEE.
Although the principal object in compiling the present work has been
the endeavour to induct our readers into the way of keeping bees
according to the most recent and approved methods, it requires but
little apology for thus apparently deviating from our prescribed
course, by devoting a small portion of our space to a description of
the anatomy of the wonderful little creatures whose labours all our
contrivances are intended to assist, and since it will at once be
admitted that a knowledge of their habits is not only interesting to
the bee-keeper, but enables him to conduct his apiary in accordance
therewith.
Of the insect tribe, the bee is certainly the most distinguished; with
the exception of the silkworm, none can approach her in ministering to
the wants, or rather to the luxuries, of the human family. The instinct
bees possess for feeding on flowers, bringing home honey and pollen,
and secreting wax, entitles them to our close consideration of their
structure and of the tools provided them by Nature for carrying on
their handiwork.
In a treatise of this kind, intended to be of a popular character, we
shall endeavour to place these details before our readers in a concise
and simple manner, avoiding as much as may be technical terms, and
referring those who wish to go more deeply into this branch of the
subject to the works of Bonnet, Huber, Kirby and Spence, Dr. Bevan, &c.
.
In the course of our description, we shall frequently have to refer
to the steel engravings, Plates I. and II., drawn by Mr. E. W.
Robinson, artist to the Entomological Society of London, who has most
carefully dissected bees we sent him for the purpose, subjected these
dissections to the microscope, and skilfully produced the accompanying
illustrations, which will so much assist us in our agreeable task.
These delineations are so clear, that a little explanation will suffice
to bring home to the understanding of the curious the component parts
of the bee, and the uses to which the various members are applied.
Because the bee is so small an insect, its organization ought not to be
neglected to be investigated. "The bee is little among such as fly, but
her fruit is the chief of sweet things." The enlightened Boyle, when
contemplating the wonders of Nature, declared that his astonishment
had been more excited by the mite than by the elephant; and that his
admiration dwelt "not so much on the _clocks_ as on the _watches_ of
creation."[5]
[Footnote 5: Dr. Bevan.]
The figures 1, 2, and 3, Plate I., in the frontispiece, respectively
represent the exterior forms of the queen, the worker, and the
drone. They are thus coloured to illustrate the Yellow Italian Alp,
or Ligurian bee, now deservedly held in such high estimation by
bee-keepers, and of whose good qualities we shall, in a subsequent
section of this work, have occasion more fully to treat. All the
bees constituting a stock may not be of quite so bright a colour as
those represented: the old bees differ in appearance from the younger
ones;--darkened bodies and ragged wings, not grey hairs and wrinkled
faces, are the signs of old age; so that with bees (especially
Ligurians), as with the gentler sex of the human race, there is
appointed a period both of youth and beauty.
The anatomical structure of our English bee is much the same as that of
the Italian;[6] a description of the one will therefore serve for the
other. The most apparent difference consists in the colour. The English
bee is of a blackish brown; both varieties have their bodies wholly
covered with close-set hairs. These hairs deserve particular attention,
because, although so small, each hair is _feather-shaped_, consisting
of a stem and branches somewhat analogous to the feathers of birds.
This form is extremely serviceable to the insect, when revelling in the
corolla of flowers, to collect the farina, and, besides thus useful, is
peculiarly adapted for retaining animal heat.[7]
[Footnote 6: Naturalists consider the Italian bee a very superior race,
and that the various organs are stronger and of greater capacity; it
is, however, not easy to define the precise anatomical superiority.]
[Footnote 7: "Naturalist's Library."]
The insect is divided into three parts--the _head_, the _thorax_ or
_chest_, and the _abdomen_.
The head of the queen (Plate I., fig. 1 _c_), as also that of the
drone (Plate I., fig. 3 _c_), is rounder than that of the worker-bee.
The latter (Plate I, fig. 2 _c_) is of a triangular shape, and much
flattened, as in Plate I., fig. 2* _c_, which shows the side view. In
common with other creatures, the head contains the inlet for nutrition,
and is the seat of the principal organs of sensation.
In the figures before alluded to may be seen the double visual
apparatus with which bees are provided. The oval divisions on each side
of the head are the two eyes, the secondary organs of vision being the
three small eyes on the top of the head, called the _ocelli_. We shall
first describe the two larger eyes, which, as seems to be the case
with all insects, are immovable, and have neither irides nor pupils,
nor eyelids to cover them, but are protected from the dust or pollen
of flowers by a number of small hairs, as well as by a horny tunicle,
which defends and secures them from injury. The multitude of hexagonal
lenses which compose the eye of a bee make it appear, when viewed
through a microscope, exactly like honey-comb.[8] A German writer
computes that in each eye there are 3,500 lenses. In Plate II., fig. 5
represents three of these hexagonal prisms or lenses, magnified.
[Footnote 8: Dr. Bevan.]
The construction of the eye for seeing objects best at a moderate
distance will account for the fact that bees mount high up into the air
after collecting their store of food, and then, having determined the
point, no matter how far off, they fly homewards with the directness
of a cannon ball, and alight at the door of their own habitation,
though the country around may be crowded with hives: but on reaching
the entrance, their vision appears defective, for they then feel their
way with the antennæ as if totally blind; and should the hive have been
moved a little, they will rise again into the air to obtain a more
distant view, suited to the lengthened focus of their sight.
When a stock or swarm is brought from a distance, bees do not take
their departure at once, but reconnoitre awhile, visiting surrounding
objects so as to well know the spot again, in order to return thereto.
The precise purpose or use of the three small eyes does not appear
to be exactly known, except that they are intended to heighten the
general sense of seeing which the creature so peculiarly requires. Some
naturalists suggest that they are to give a defensive vision upwards
from the cups of flowers.
The mouth of the bee is a most complex structure, marvellously
adapted for its duties, and consists of the mandibles, the ligula, or
tongue, also called the proboscis, and other less important parts.
The mandibles are the two sides of the upper jaw. Plate I., fig. 1
_d_, shows the mandible of the queen, which, similar to that of the
drone (Plate I., fig. 3 _d_), is provided with two teeth, whilst the
mandible of the worker (Plate I., fig. 2 _d_) is without teeth. The
latter having to manipulate the wax with smoothness, the teeth would
doubtless be objectionable. These mandibles are strong, horny, and
sharp-pointed, to assist in breaking down food between them, and, in
other respects, constitute serviceable tools with which to seize their
enemies, destroy the drones, &c. The tongue (Plate II., fig. 3), or
proboscis, is a long, slender projection, flattish in form, and about
the thickness of a bristle. It has about forty cartilaginous rings,
each of which is fringed with minute hairs, having also a small tuft
of hair at its extremity, where it is somewhat serrated. The tongue
acts by rolling about, sweeping or lapping up, by means of the fringes
around it, everything to which it is applied; thus, when a bee alights
upon a flower, it pierces the petals and stamina, where the nectar is
secreted, deposits its collection on the tongue, which, when withdrawn
into the mouth, propels the gathered material into the gullet (Plate
I., fig. 2 _c_) at its base, and from thence passes into the various
internal organs, to which reference will be made hereafter. At times,
in building combs, the tongue is used as a trowel, with which the
minute scales of wax are deposited in their appropriate places, and the
desired finish is given to the cells. This organ was formerly described
by naturalists as a hollow tube, but we now know, by dissection, that
this is not the case, but that it acts as a brush, and, by a peculiar
muscular contraction externally, draws the liquid into the mouth. Thus,
when a bee is imbibing food, the rings of the abdomen have a vibratory
motion similar to pumping, showing to the casual observer that suction
is rapidly going on in some form or other.
The labial palpi (Plate II., fig. 3 _o_) rise from the base of each
side of this lapping instrument, and are also ciliated exteriorly;
outside these are the lower jaws, or maxillæ (Plate II., fig. 2 _n_),
similarly provided with hairs. When the jaws (Plate II., fig. 3 _n_ and
_o_) close on the tongue, they form a sheath or defence thereto.
With the mandibles of the upper jaw opening right and left, and the
maxillæ or lower jaws, which serve to hold the object laboured upon,
the insect prepares its work for the sweeping-up apparatus of the lower
parts. Thus, when combs become mouldy, or in any way unfit receptacles
for brood or honey, these tools provided by Nature serve the place of
hands, and the bees are able to chop up in small pieces, and remove
from their dwelling, whatever lumber of this kind may be offensive
to them. The whole of this apparatus, while perfect in action in an
expanded state, can be folded or coiled together when not in use, so
as to form one strong and well-protected instrument.
The antennæ (Plate I., figs. 1_a_, 2_a_, 3_a_,) are most important
instruments, and are planted between or below the eyes and a little
below the ocelli, one on either side: they consist of a number of
tubular joints, each having a separate motion; being thus jointed
throughout their whole length, they are, therefore, capable of every
variety of flexure, and their extremities are exquisitely sensitive.
With the antennæ, these insects recognise their queen, and appear to
communicate to each other their joys and sorrows. For instance, if a
colony be deprived of its queen, bees may be seen rushing about the
hive, and, with a nervous twinge, crossing their antennæ and conveying
the intelligence of their forlorn state. The sense of touch is here
most acute. Huber points out a moonlight night as the best time for
observing the antennæ in this respect. The bees guarding against
the intrusion of moths, and not having light enough to see fully,
circumambulate their doors like vigilant sentinels, with the antennæ
stretched right before them; and woe to the moth that comes within
reach--the instant it is felt, its death follows. The sense of hearing
has been denied bees, whilst others contend that these organs are
situate in their antennæ. The sounds which bees emit, particularly
at swarming time, are conclusive that they possess this faculty; the
only reason for arriving at an opposite conclusion seems to be, that
no precise organ of hearing can be found. Naturalists are now more
united in the opinion that the seat of hearing is here located. The
antennæ are said to have also another office, viz., that they act
as a barometer, by which bees know the state of the weather and are
premonished of storms; so that this pair of horns play an important
part, since such useful faculties are thus combined. In the dark
recesses of the hive the antennas are exceedingly serviceable, and
may truly be denominated "eyes to the blind." Bees possess acutely
the senses of taste and smell. In consequence of their being detected
occasionally lapping the impure liquids from stable or other fœtid
drains, Huber considered the former the least perfect of their senses.
It is now ascertained that bees, like most animals, are fond of salt;
and in spring, more especially, their instinct teaches them that salt
is beneficial for their health after their winter confinement, and they
therefore resort to dunghills and Stagnant marshes, from which they
are, doubtless, able to extract saline draughts.
It cannot be denied, however, that, according to our ideas, bees'
taste is otherwise at fault; it sometimes happens that, where onions
and leeks abound and are allowed to run to seed, bees are so anxious
to complete their winter stores, that, from feeding on these plants,
a disagreeable flavour is communicated to the honey. Again, the fact,
well known in history, related by Xenophon in the retreat of the Ten
Thousand, that bees in Asia Minor extracted honey from plants which
had not only a disagreeable but a poisonous tendency to man, shows that
it is quite possible, where such poisonous plants abound, for the bees
to extract the juices without any injury to themselves.
The sense of smell, so largely possessed by bees, is extremely
serviceable to them. Attracted by the fragrance of flowers, bees may
be seen winging their way a considerable distance in an undeviating
course, even sometimes in the face of weather which one might have
thought they would not have braved.
The thorax or chest approaches in figure to a sphere, and is united to
the head by a thread-like ligament. This is the centre of the organs
of motion. Here are attached both the muscles that move the legs and
wings, and the legs and wings themselves.
In Plate II., fig. 1, _b, b, b_, show the muscles that move the wings;
_e, e_, the bases of the wings.
The wings consist of two pairs of unequal size, which are hooked to
one another. In Plate I., fig. A, will be seen the margins of the
two wings. In fig. B are the eighteen or twenty hooks placed on the
anterior margin of the hinder wing, whilst the posterior margin of the
fore wing is beautifully folded over to receive them, so that, when
distended for flying, the two wings on each side act as one to steady
their movements in flight.
The bee has six legs, three on either side. Each leg is composed of
several joints, having articulations like a man's arm, for the thigh,
the leg, and the foot. The foremost pair of these are the shortest;
with them the bee unloads the little pellets from the baskets on her
thighs: the middle pair are somewhat longer, and the hindmost the
longest of all. On the outside of the middle joint of these last there
is, in each leg, a small cavity, in the form of a marrow spoon, called
the "pollen basket." In Plate I., fig. 2 _b_ shows the inner side of
the hind leg and pollen brush; 2 _b*_, same figure, the outer side and
pollen basket.
The legs are covered with hairs, more particularly the edges of the
cavity mentioned, in which the kneaded pollen requires to be maintained
securely. In this they convey those loads of pollen which are so
constantly seen carried into a hive.
This basket, or pollen groove, in the thigh is peculiar to the worker;
neither queen nor drone have anything of the kind.
Another provision of the bee's limbs consists in a pair of hooks
attached to each foot, with their points opposite to each other, by
means of which the bees suspend themselves from the roof or sides of
hives, and cling to each other as they do at swarming time or prior to
and during the formation of new comb, thus forming a living curtain. In
these circumstances, each bee, with its two fore claws, takes hold of
the two hinder legs of the one next above it.
This mode of suspension is, no doubt, agreeable to them, although the
uppermost bees appear to be dragged by the weight of the whole. Wildman
supposed that bees had a power of distending themselves with air, to
acquire buoyancy, and thus lessen the burden of the topmost bees. They
find no difficulty in extricating themselves from the mass; the most
central of the group can make its way without endangering the stability
of the grape-like cluster.
Bees are able to walk freely in an inverted position, either on
glass or other slippery substances. The peculiar mechanism of their
feet, which enables them to do so, consists in their having in the
middle of each hook a thin membranous little cup or sucker that
is alternately exhausted and filled with air. Flies have the same
beautiful apparatus--hence a fly commonly selects the ceiling for a
resting-place. These little air-cups, or exhausted receivers, may be
seen by applying a strong magnifying-glass to a window that has a
bee traversing the reverse side. The edges of these little suckers
are serrated, so as to close against any kind of surface to which
their legs may be applied. This apparatus may be also serviceable for
gathering the pollen before transmitting it to the baskets on the hind
legs. Besides these appendages and apparatus of the thorax, that region
is traversed by the œsophagus or gullet (the opening to which will be
found in Plate I, fig. 2 _c_), on its way to the digestive and other
organs, situate in the third part of the insect--viz., the abdomen.
The covering of the thorax, with the external covering of the gullet,
may be seen in the drawing of the magnified dissected body of the bee
(Plate II., fig. 1).
The breathing apparatus of bees is a very remarkable feature: they
have no lungs, but, instead, air-vessels or tubes, ramifying through
every part of the frame. These openings, called "spiracles," are found
in the sides of their bodies, behind the wings. Two of the openings
are located in the thorax, and one on each side of the scales of the
abdomen.
These air-vessels would be difficult to show in a drawing, the
multitude of hairs which protect them are in the way of getting at
a very distinct delineation. The writer has traced their oval form
by the aid of Messrs. Smith and Beck's "Binocular Microscope," and
exceedingly interesting objects they appeared. From the circumstance
of bees breathing through these orifices in their bodies, it will
not be difficult to understand how sadly the little creatures must
be inconvenienced when, by accident, they fall on loose mould, and
thus have their breathing pores choked with dust: it also shows how
needful it is to prevent bees being besmeared with honey (by using
bad appliances for feeding), which is still more injurious to them.
These air-vessels are the only real circulating system, as bees have
neither lungs, heart, liver, nor blood. It appears, however, that a
white fluid matter, called "chyle," which, in degree, answers the
purpose of blood, is produced in the intestines, nourishes the body,
receives the oxygen from the air-vessels, and generates that animal
warmth so necessary for the insect's well-being. Bees have the power
of counteracting superabundant heat by perspiration. Not unfrequently,
on a hot summer's morning, a good deal of moisture may be noticed at
the entrance of a crowded hive, which the inmates have been enabled to
throw off. This is a healthy sign, because a sign of great numerical
strength.
The abdomen, attached to the posterior part of the thorax by a slender
ligament, has, for an outer covering, six folds or scales of unequal
breadth, overlapping each other, and contains the honey-bag, or first
stomach, the ventricle, or true stomach (Plate II., figs. 1 and 2_f_),
with other intestines, to be hereafter referred to.
The honey-bag (Plate II., figs. 1 and 2, _d_) is an enlargement of the
gullet, and, although called the first stomach, no digestion takes
place here. In shape it is like a taper oil flask; when full, it is
about the size of a small pea, and so transparent that the colour of
the honey may be seen through it. This sac, as it is sometimes called,
is susceptible of contraction, and so organized as to enable the bee to
disgorge a part of its contents at pleasure, to fill the honey-cells of
the hive. It has formed a subject of some controversy whether any or
what change takes place in the nectar of flowers whilst in the bee's
stomach.
A short passage (Plate II., figs. 1 and 2, _f_) leads to the ventricle
or true stomach, which is somewhat larger. This receives the food from
the honey-bag, for the nourishment of the bee and the secretion of wax.
The stomach, like the honey-bag, has a considerable number of muscles,
which are brought into play to help the digestive and other organs. The
biliary vessels (Plate II., figs. 1 and 2, _h, h_) receive the chyle
from the digested food in the stomach, which from thence is conveyed to
all parts of the body for its support.
Formerly, naturalists thought that wax was elaborated from pollen;
but it is now fully known that it is the animal fat of the bees, and
to produce it requires a considerable consumption of honey to supply
the drain upon the system. Whilst this secretion is going on, bees
keep themselves very still. In order to pass through the pores of the
abdomen, the wax is, no doubt, a liquid oily matter, which, on making
its appearance outside the abdominal rings, thickens, and exudes from
under the four medial rings, in flakes like fish scales, one on either
side; so that there are eight of these secreting cavities, which are
peculiar to the worker: they are not found either in the queen or
drone. The shape of these cavities is that of an irregular pentagon,
and the plates of wax, being moulded in them, exhibit accordingly the
same form (see Plate II., fig. 5, _w_).
No direct channel of communication between the stomach and these
receptacles, or wax-pockets, has yet been discovered; but Huber
conjectures that the secreting vessels are contained in the membrane
which lines these receptacles, and which is covered with a reticulation
of hexagonal meshes, analogous to the inner coat of the second stomach
of ruminant quadrupeds.
The little plates of wax are withdrawn by the bee itself, with its
hind feet, carried to the mouth with its fore feet, where the wax is
made soft and ductile. When a cluster or swarm is placed in a new
hive, and the bees suspend themselves in the form of a garland, as
before described, it seems feasible that the lower bees pass their
secretions up the living ladder to the uppermost ones, to be moulded
by them into those beautiful white hexagonal shapes of which new comb
is composed. The rapidity with which comb-building progresses at such
times would lead to the supposition that there is a division of labour
of this kind among them, just as our labourers convey building material
to the artisan on the scaffold above. This work of comb-building is
carried forward in warm weather; a cold temperature interferes with the
secretion of wax.
The last important organ of the abdomen is the sting: this small but
effective weapon is situate close to the stomach, and is found in the
queen and worker, but is absent in the drone. Our engraving (Plate 11.,
fig. 4) exhibits the sting of the worker-bee, with its muscles and
attachments: _r_ shows the muscles that move the sting, and _q_ the
curved base of the sheath that encloses the sting.
Much beautiful mechanism is observed on a microscopic examination of
this weapon and its appendages, so powerful in comparison with their
bulk. The sting is composed of three separate portions, _i. e._, two
sheaths (as seen in Plate II., fig. 4) and the barb. The sheaths, which
are attached to the powerful muscles on either side at _s_, are first
protruded in the act of stinging, and, clasping the barb, enables the
insect to bury it in the flesh to the depth of one-twelfth of an inch;
at the same time, by a muscular contraction, the poison is forced along
the groove, and the barb enters the wound, causing the well-known
painful effects which arise from the sting of a bee.
The darts composing this instrument are furnished with teeth or barbs,
set obliquely on their outer side, which give it the appearance of an
arrow, and by which it is retained in the wound until the poison has
been ejected.
If the sufferer could only command himself so as to remain perfectly
passive, the bee might be able to draw in these barbs which protrude
beyond the sheath, and would then have a chance of withdrawing the
sting: the little insect would consequently inflict less pain, and
might perhaps escape paying the penalty of her life. It generally
happens, however, that the excitement of both parties is so great,
that the poor bee leaves behind the whole apparatus, and even part
of her intestines, so that her death is the result, and the wound is
more severe. The sting is about the sixth part of an inch long, and
is largest at the base. Here are situated the glands or ducts (Plate
II., fig. 4, _u_). By these the poison is secreted, and passed into
the poison-bag (Plate II., fig. 4, _f_), which acts as a reservoir for
retaining it till required.
On the subject of the sting, Paley remarks:--"The action of the sting
affords a beautiful example of the union of chemistry and mechanism:
of chemistry, in respect to the venom, which in so small a quantity
can produce such powerful effects; of mechanism, as the sting is not
a simple, but a compound instrument. The machinery would have been
comparatively useless had it not been for the chemical process, by
which, in the insect's body, honey is converted into poison; and, on
the other hand, the poison would have been ineffectual without an
instrument to wound, and a syringe to inject the fluid."
As before stated, the drone has no sting, but, in place thereof, the
organs of reproduction. And now, in concluding this section, we would
remark the wonderful mechanism and finish all the works of the Great
Master Builder unfold. In the works of man we see, perhaps, a piece of
mechanism of unquestioned beauty and excellence; but there is a bolt
here or screw there that might have been dispensed with, and does not
possess any definite use, whilst in the works of Nature everything
has a place; we may not at once comprehend the exact purpose of some
intricate parts, but that only implies that we have not made a thorough
investigation. The most minute hair serves its required end. "Canst
thou by searching find out God? Canst thou find out the Almighty unto
perfection?"
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
III.--MODERN BEE-HIVES.
NUTT'S COLLATERAL HIVE.
The late Mr. Nutt, author of "Humanity to Honey Bees," may be
regarded as a pioneer of modern apiarians; we therefore select his
hive wherewith to begin a description of those we have confidence in
recommending. Besides, an account of Mr. Nutt's hive will necessarily
include references to the various principles which subsequent inventors
have kept in view.
Nutt's Collateral Hive consists of three boxes placed side by side (C,
A, C), with an octagonal box b on the top, which covers a bell-glass.
Each of the three boxes is nine inches high, nine inches wide, and
eleven inches from back to front. Thin wooden partitions, in which six
or seven openings corresponding with each other are made, divide these
compartments, so that free access from one box to the other is afforded
to the bees; this communication is stopped, when necessary, by a zinc
slide passing down between each box. The octagonal cover B is about ten
inches in diameter and twenty high, including the sloping octagonal
roof, surmounted with an acorn as a finish. There are two large windows
in each of the end boxes, and one in the centre box. Across the latter
is a thermometer, scaled and marked so as to be an easy guide to the
bee-master, showing him, by the rise in temperature, the increased
accommodation required; this thermometer is a fixture, the indicating
part being protected by two pieces of glass, to prevent the bees from
coming between it and the window, and thereby obstructing the view.
[Illustration]
D D are ventilators. In the centre of each of the end boxes is a
double zinc tube, reaching down a little below the middle: the outer
tube is a casing of plain zinc, with holes, about a quarter of an inch
wide, dispersed over it; the inside one is of perforated zinc, with'
openings so small as to prevent the escape of the bees; a flange or
rim keeps the tubes suspended through a hole made to receive it. The
object in having double tubing is to allow the inner one to be drawn
up, and the perforations to be opened by pricking out the wax, or
rather the propolis, with which bees close all openings in their hives.
These tubes admit a thermometer, enclosed in a cylindrical glass, to be
occasionally inserted during the gathering season; it requires to be
left in the tube for about a quarter of an hour, and on its withdrawal,
if found indicating ninety degrees or more, ventilation must be adopted
to lower the temperature. The ornamental zinc top D must be left
raised, and is easily kept in that position by putting the perforated
part a little on one side.
The boxes before described are placed on a raised double floor-board,
extending the whole length--viz., about thirty-six inches. The
floor-board projects a few inches in front. In the centre is the
entrance (as our engraving only shows the back of the hive, we must
imagine it on the other side); it is made by cutting a sunken way, of
about half an inch deep and three inches wide, in the floor-board,
communicating only with the middle box; it is through this entrance
alone that the bees find their way into the hive, access to the end
boxes and the super being obtained from the inside. An alighting-board
is fitted close under the entrance, for the bees to settle upon when
returning laden with homey. This alighting-board is removable for the
convenience of packing. The centre, or stock-box A, called by Mr. Nutt
the _Pavilion of Nature_, is the receptacle for the swarm. For stocking
this, it will be necessary to tack the side tins so as to close the
side openings in the partition, and to tack some perforated zinc over
the holes at top; the swarm may then be hived into it just the same as
with a common hive. A temporary bottom board may be used if the box
has to be sent any distance, or a cloth may be tied round to close the
bottom (the latter plan is best, because allowing plenty of air); and
when brought home at night, the bees being clustered at the top, the
cloth or temporary bottom must be removed, the box gently placed on
its own floor-board, and the hive set in the place it is permanently
to occupy. E E are two block fronts, which open with a hinge. A
semicircular hole, three inches long and two inches wide in the middle,
is cut in the upper bottom-board, immediately under the window of each
box; these apertures are closed by separate perforated zinc slides.
These blocks, when opened, afford a ready means of reducing the
temperature of the side boxes, a current of air being quickly obtained,
and are also useful for allowing the bees to throw out any refuse.
[Illustration]
The centre F is a drawer, in which is a feeding-trough, so constructed
that the bees can descend through the opening before mentioned on to
a false bottom of perforated zinc. Liquid food is easily poured in by
pulling out the drawer a little way; the bees readily come down on to
the perforated zinc, and take the food by inserting their probosces
through the perforations, with no danger of being drowned. Care must be
exercised that the food is not given in such quantity as to come above
the holes; by this means; each hive has a supply of food accessible
only to the inmates, with no possibility, when closely shut in, of
attracting robber-bees from other hives.
The exterior of these hives is well painted with two coats of lead
colour, covered with two coats of green, and varnished. Notwithstanding
this preservation, it is absolutely essential to place such a hive
under a shed or cover of some sort, as the action of the sun and rain
is likely to decay the wood, whilst the extreme heat of a summer sun
might cause the combs to fall from their foundations.
Neat and tasteful sheds may be erected, either of zinc supported by
iron or wooden rods, or a thatched roof may be sustained in the same
manner, and will form a pretty addition to the flower-garden.
When erecting a covering, it will be well to make it a foot or two
longer, so as to allow of a cottage hive on either side, as the
appearance of the whole is much improved by such an arrangement.
The following directions, with some adaptation, are from "Nutt on
Honey-Bees":--
"In the middle box the bees are to be first placed: in it they should
first construct their beautiful combs, and under the government of one
sovereign, the mother of the hive, carry on their curious work, and
display their astonishing architectural ingenuity. In this box, the
regina of the colony, surrounded by her industrious, happy, humming
subjects, carries on the propagation of her species, deposits in
the cells prepared for the purpose by the other bees thousands of
eggs, though she seldom deposits more than one egg in a cell at a
time: these eggs are nursed up into a numerous progeny by the other
inhabitants of the hive. It is at this time, when hundreds of young
bees are daily coming into existence, that the collateral boxes are
of the utmost importance, both to the bees domiciled in them and to
their proprietors; for when the brood become perfect bees in a common
cottager's hive, a swarm is the necessary consequence. The queen,
accompanied by a vast number of her subjects, leaves the colony,
and seeks some other place in which to carry on the work Nature has
assigned her. But as swarming may, by proper precaution and attention
to this mode of management, generally be prevented, it is good practice
to do so, because the time necessarily required to establish a new
colony, even supposing the cottager succeeds in saving the swarm,
would otherwise be employed in collecting honey, and in enriching
the old hive. Here, then, is one of the features of this plan--viz.,
_the prevention of swarming_. The period when symptoms of swarming
begin to present themselves may be known by an unusual noise, the
appearance of more than common activity among the bees in the middle
box, and, above all, by a sudden rise of temperature, which will be
indicated by the quicksilver in the thermometer rising to seventy-five
degrees, as scaled on the thermometer in the box; when these symptoms
are apparent, the bee-master may conclude that additional space is
required. The top sliding tin should now be withdrawn from under the
bell-glass, which will open to the bees a new store-room; this they
will soon occupy, and fill with combs and honey of pure whiteness, if
the weather be favourable for their uninterrupted labour. It may be
well here to mention, that if the glass have a small piece of clean
worker comb attached to the perforated ventilating tube, the bees will
more speedily commence their operations in it. When the glass is nearly
filled, which in a good season will be in a very short space of time,
the bees will again require increased accommodation; this will also be
indicated by the thermometer further rising to eighty-five degrees.
The end box, as thereon marked, must now be given them. Previously to
drawing up a slide to enlarge their crowded house, the manager should
carefully take off the empty end box he intends to open to them, and
thoroughly cleanse it, and then smear or dress the inside of it with
a little liquid honey. Thus prepared, he must return the box to its
proper situation, and then withdraw the sliding tin that hitherto has
cut it off from the middle box; by so doing, the store-room is again
enlarged. The bees will commence operations in this new apartment. This
simple operation, performed at the proper time, generally prevents
swarming; by it the queen gains a vast addition to her dominions, and,
consequently, increasing space for the multiplying population of her
domicile. Provided the weather continue fine, and the thermometer has
risen to ninety-five degrees, as marked on the scale, the remaining
tin may be also withdrawn, thereby giving the bees admittance to
another box. There is now no lack of store-rooms or of employment for
our indefatigable labourers. The cylinder thermometer is required to
be occasionally dropped into the ventilating tube of the side boxes
to ascertain their temperature; for, if exceeding or approaching
that of the middle box, it must be reduced by ventilating: this is
done by raising the zinc tops, to allow the air to pass through the
perforations. The grand object of this system is to keep the end boxes
and the bell-glass cooler than the pavilion or middle box, so as to
induce the queen to propagate her species there and there only, and
not in the depriving part of the hive; by this means the side and
upper combs are in no way discoloured by brood. The queen requires
a considerable degree of warmth; the middle box does not require
more ventilation than the additional openings afford. The bees enjoy
coolness in the side boxes, and thereby the whiteness and purity of the
luscious store are increased."
After the foregoing directions for the working of the hive, it remains
to be told how to obtain possession of the store, and to get rid of
our industrious tenants from the super and end boxes, of which the
super glass will be almost sure to be filled first, having been first
given to them. The operation of taking honey is best performed in the
middle of a fine sunny day. The mode we prefer is as follows:--Pass
an ordinary table-knife all round underneath the rim of the glass,
to loosen the cement, properly called propolis; then take a piece of
fine wire, or a piece of string will do, and, having hold of the two
ends, draw it under the glass very slowly, so as to allow the bees
to get out of the way. Having brought the string through, the glass
is now separated from the hive; but it is as well to leave the glass
in its place for an hour or so; the commotion of the bees will then
have subsided: and another advantage we find is, that the bees suck
up the liquid and seal up the cells broken by the cutting off. You
can then pass underneath the glass two pieces of tin or zinc; the one
may be the proper slide to prevent the inmates of the hive coming
out at the apertures, the other tin keeps all the bees in the glass
close prisoners. After having confined the bees in the glass for a
short time, you must see whether they manifest symptoms of uneasiness,
because, if they do not, it may be concluded that the queen is among
them. In such a case, replace the glass, and recommence the operation
on a future day. It is not often that her majesty is in the depriving
hive or glass; but this circumstance does sometimes happen, and
the removal at such a time must be avoided. When the bees that are
prisoners run about in great confusion and restlessness, the operator
may conclude that the queen is absent, and that all is right. The glass
may be taken away a little distance off, and placed in a flower-pot
or other receptacle, where it will be safe when inverted and the tin
taken away: the bees will then be glad to make their escape back to
their hive. A little tapping at the sides of the glass will render
their tarriance uncomfortable, and the glass may then be taken into a
darkened room or out-house, with only a small aperture admitting light,
which must be open; the bees, like all insects, make towards the light,
and so escape. The bee-master should brush them off with a feather
from the comb as they can be reached; but on no account, if there are
many bees, should the glass be left, because the bees that are in the
glass will gorge themselves to their full, and speedily bring a host of
others from the adjacent hives, who, in a very little time, would leave
only the empty combs. It is truly marvellous how soon they will carry
all the store back again, if allowed to do so. An empty glass should
be put on to the hive in place of the full one, as it will attract the
bees up, thereby preventing the too close crowding of the hive; and, if
the summer be not too far advanced, they will work more honey-comb in
it.
The removal of the end boxes is a somewhat similar process, but they
should on no account be taken away, at the same time as the glass, or,
indeed, at a time when any other hive is being--_robbed_ we were going
to say, for it is robbery to the bees: they intended the honey for
their winter food, and are much enraged at being deprived of it. First
shut down the dividing tin; the bees in the end box are now prisoners
separated from the hive; keep them so half an hour, and then take
away the box bodily to another part of the garden, or into the dark
out-house, as before recommended.
It may not be out of place here to say something respecting the
enthusiastic inventor of the collateral hive--Thomas Nutt--who was an
inhabitant of Spalding, in Lincolnshire. Having been disabled during a
considerable period by rheumatic fever, he devoted all his attention to
bees, at a time when bee-culture was but little valued; and, although
it must be admitted that two boxes were used side by side long before
Mr. Nutt's day, still it is due to him to state that the adoption of
three boxes was entirely his own idea, and that, so far as he then
knew, the collateral system was his original invention. His statements
have been severely criticised, and it does appear almost incredible
that the weight of honey which he names could have been produced in one
season. But as in the district where he lived there is grown an immense
quantity of mustard seed--the flowers of which afford excellent forage
for bees--the honey harvests there would, doubtless, be very large. If
Mr. Nutt has given his little favourites too much praise, it will be
only charitable now to account for his statements by an excess of zeal
and enthusiasm in this his study of bee-culture. It may be that the
golden harvests he spoke and wrote of have been so far useful that they
have induced many to commence bee-keeping, some of whom, whilst they
condemned his statements, have themselves written really useful and
practical works on the subject, which otherwise might possibly never
have appeared. As the monks of old kept the lamp of religion burning,
however dimly, until a more enlightened age, so Thomas Nutt may have
assisted in a somewhat similar manner by energetically propounding his
views, and thereby causing other apiarians to rise up, whose names are
now as familiar to us as household words, and whose works posterity
will value. The writer of these pages has often accompanied Mr. Nutt on
his visits to his patrons in the neighbourhood of London, and seen him
perform his operations regardless of the anger of the bees, and free
from all fear of their stings. He often expatiated on the cruelty of
the brimstone match and suffocation, denouncing the barbarous custom
in the following terms: "You may as well kill the cow for her milk, or
the hen for her eggs, as the bee for its honey; why continue to light
the fatal match, when every cottager in England has the means of saving
this most useful and valuable insect?"
NEIGHBOUR'S IMPROVED SINGLE BOX HIVE.
We have introduced the "Single Box Hive" to suit the convenience of
those who, though desirous of keeping bees on the improved principle,
do not wish to incur the expense or devote the space which is necessary
for Nutt's hive.
[Illustration]
It consists of a lower or stock-box A, eleven inches square, nine
inches deep, with three large windows, a thermometer D, as in Nutt's,
being fixed across the front one, protected at the sides by strips of
glass, to prevent the bees obscuring the quicksilver from sight, B is
a cover the same size as the lower hive, large enough to allow space
for a bell-glass nine inches wide, six inches deep. E is the ventilator
between the glass and the stock-hive, intended to prevent the queen
travelling into the super hive, and also, by cooling the hive, to
endeavour to prevent swarming; a sloping pagoda roof, with an acorn
top, completes the upper story. A floor-board with a block front, as in
Nutt's collateral, forms the base, the entrance being sunk, as before
described, and furnished with zinc slides to reduce or close it as
may be required. To stock a hive of this description, it is necessary
to send the stock-box to the party with whom you have agreed for the
supply of a swarm. In the evening of the day the hive is thus tenanted,
remove it to the position it is designed permanently to occupy; if the
swarm has to be procured from a distance, and is transported by rail or
other conveyance, a perforated zinc slide should be substituted for the
plain slide that covers the top, and a large piece or perforated zinc
must also be tacked to the bottom after the swarm has settled in. Thus
securely confined, with a free circulation of air throughout, bees that
have been' swarmed the day before may be safely sent any distance that
will allow of their being released the day after; because bees, though
they provision themselves for a couple of days, cannot with safety be
confined in an empty hive much longer.
Having now, we will suppose, procured your swarm, and placed it in a
south or south-east aspect, you may, with advantage if the weather be
wet, give a little liquid food: the feeding in this hive is performed
at the top of the stock-box, where the glass is worked. Our round
feeding pan, or the new feeding bottle, may here be used. Any fancy
as to the position may be indulged in, but must be settled on by the
time the bees are set at liberty, because any alteration afterwards
is detrimental to the working of the hive. The bees, on first issuing
forth, carefully mark their new abode and the surrounding objects, so
that, if a change be made, they are completely thrown out in their
observations, which confuses them not a little, and occasions loss.
Bees always return to the same spot; it is the locality that they know,
and if the hive is moved a less distance than a mile, thousands return
to the spot on which the hive has been accustomed to stand.
Allow your bees to collect honey and build their combs for ten days or
a fortnight. Much now depends on the weather; if fine, by this time
they will require additional room, which will be indicated by the
thermometer D rapidly rising; 100 degrees is the swarming point. The
hive must be kept below this by ventilation.
Access must now be given to the flat bell-glass at the top, which
is done by withdrawing the top slide. In a few hours, sometimes
immediately, the work of comb-building begins in the glass--all the
sooner, if a piece of clean empty comb be placed therein.
It is of service to keep the glass warm by means of a worsted or baize
bag; it prevents the temperature from falling at night, when much
comb-building is carried on, providing the heat is not allowed to
escape. Probably, if all goes on well, in three weeks the glass will be
found filled with fine white honey-comb. When you find that the comb
is well sealed up, it is time to take it off; but if the cells are
unfilled and unsealed, let the labourers complete their work--a little
experience will soon enable the bee-keeper to determine this point.
The plan to be adopted for taking glasses of honey, comb is the same as
described for Nutt's hive.
TAYLOR'S AMATEUR SHALLOW BOX OR EIGHT-BAR HIVE.
[Illustration]
Taylor's Amateur Hive, as seen by reference to the engraving, consists
of three boxes--the lower one, A, is the stock-box, in which the swarm
is first placed; B is the first super; and C, the centre box: all three
boxes are of the same diameter, viz., thirteen and a half inches square
inside, A, the stock-box, is seven and a half inches deep; B, six and a
half inches: both are fitted with eight moveable bars, each bar being
one inch and an eighth wide, with spaces of half an inch between, and
all easily removed by unscrewing the crown-board, in which are two
openings closed by zinc slides. The middle box, C, has no bars, and is
still shallower than either of the other boxes, being five inches deep.
In many localities and seasons, the third box may not be required. Each
box has two windows, one at the back and another at the side, a zinc
shutter, sliding in a groove, excluding light and retaining warmth.
The box C differs from the others in another respect; instead of bars,
it has a grating made by seven openings, each half an inch wide and
nine inches long: these three boxes stand on a stout floor-board, in
which is cut the entrance way, four inches wide and three-eighths of
an inch high. The floor-board projects so as to support an outer cover
of half-inch wood, surmounted by a sloping roof. This is an effectual
protection from the weather, and is necessary when hives are exposed;
of course, if placed in a bee-house, such protection may be dispensed
with. The outer case is well painted, of a green colour, and when it is
used the hive may be placed in any part of the garden. The dimensions
of this hive, with outside cover, are eighteen inches square, and two
feet six inches high.
Suitable stands are provided, consisting of a stout pedestal with four
feet. Stakes should be driven into the ground to secure the whole
against wind. Height from the ground, four feet three inches.
The bars before alluded to are for the purpose of inducing the bees to
build parallel combs, for without such an arrangement extraction would
be impossible. It is a great convenience, in many ways, to be able to
take out a bar of comb; it gives such a complete control over the hive.
To ensure comb-building on the bars, pieces of clean worker-comb should
always be carefully preserved; and before a swarm is put in, either
every bar or, if guide comb is not plentiful, every other bar should
have a piece fixed to it in the following manner:--Cut a piece of clean
empty comb of the required size, say two inches square, not less; heat
a common flat iron, with which slightly warm the bar; then melt a
little bees'-wax upon it; draw the comb quickly over the heated iron,
hold it down on the centre of the bar, giving a very slight movement
backwards and forwards; then leave the wax to grow cold, and, if
cleverly managed, the guide will be found firmly attached. Care must be
taken that the pitch or inclination of the comb be the same as it is in
the hives--upwards from the centre of each comb. A new plan has lately
been introduced by Mr. Woodbury, of Exeter, to facilitate the correct
construction of parallel combs.
NEIGHBOUR'S IMPROVED COTTAGE HIVE.
Our Improved Cottage Hive is neatly made of straw, bound with cane,
and therefore very durable.[9] The lower hive is covered with a wooden
top, having in it three holes, through which the bees convey their
honey into three middle-sized bell glasses with ventilators, which,
when filled, hold about 6 lbs. each. There is a hoop at the bottom,
another round the top of the lower hive; to this the wooden crown-board
is fastened. These hoops are a great improvement, and are less liable
to harbour insects than if straw alone were used. The floor-board, as
its name implies, is a wooden board one and a quarter inch thick, with
a projection of three or four inches under the entrance to form an
alighting place. This entrance is cut out of, or sunk in, the board.
[Footnote 9: This is the hive referred to by the Bee-Master of the
_Times_, when he says:--"The second kind of hive I alluded to is made
of straw, and may be purchased at Neighbour's, in Holborn.... It is so
well made that it will last very long. I have had one in constant use
during ten years, and it is still as good as when it was bought."]
[Illustration]
There are three windows in the lower hive, each closed with a shutter;
these are very useful and interesting for inspecting the progress made.
Across the centre window is a thermometer, enclosed at the sides by
slips of glass. The window shutters being painted green, add very much
to its appearance. The upper hive, which is merely a cover for the
glasses, is a conical-topped hive, also made of straw bound with cane;
a hoop is worked into the straw, and made sufficiently large to allow
the cover to drop over the top hoop of the lower hive, keeping the
whole close, and preventing wet from drifting in. A zinc ventilator,
ornamentally painted, forms the apex: this is useful in letting the
confined hot air pass away in warm weather. The ventilator is opened
by raising it. The dimensions of the lower or stock-hive are fifteen
inches diameter, nine and a half inches deep outside; its weight, when
empty, seven and a half pounds. The cover, or top hive, is twelve
inches deep and fifteen inches in diameter; the ornamental zinc top
being four inches deep. The whole is about twenty-four inches high. The
weight of a hive packed, including glasses, &c., is about 18 lbs.
These hives have a tasteful appearance in the garden, but they require
some further protection from the weather in the form of a cover or of a
bee-house--contrivances that have yet to be described. In extreme cold
weather, a little additional protection, by having matting folded round
them, will be advisable.
One of the advantages this hive has over the common cottage hive is,
that it affords opportunity for the humane management of bees. The
owner has also the power of taking a glass of honey-comb of pure
quality, free from the extraneous matter known as "bee-bread," instead
of combs that are darkened by having brood hatched in them. By this
system, we have combs newly made and used only for depositing the
honey first put into them; hence the name "virgin honey." These glasses
have a very pretty appearance, and, when nicely filled, are very
convenient for home use or for making presents. The lower hive is the
receptacle for the bees; when a swarm is placed in this hive, they
immediately proceed to fill it with combs, in which to store honey for
themselves, and for cells to breed in. This hive remains undisturbed.