I
THE PASTORAL BEES
The honey-bee goes forth from the hive in spring like the dove from
Noah’s ark, and it is not till after many days that she brings back the
olive leaf, which in this case is a pellet of golden pollen upon each
hip, usually obtained from the alder or the swamp willow. In a country
where maple sugar is made the bees get their first taste of sweet from
the sap as it flows from the spiles, or as it dries and is condensed
upon the sides of the buckets. They will sometimes, in their eagerness,
come about the boiling-place and be overwhelmed by the steam and the
smoke. But bees appear to be more eager for bread in the spring than
for honey: their supply of this article, perhaps, does not keep as well
as their stores of the latter; hence fresh bread, in the shape of new
pollen, is diligently sought for. My bees get their first supplies from
the catkins of the willows. How quickly they find them out! If but one
catkin opens anywhere within range, a bee is on hand that very hour to
rifle it, and it is a most pleasing experience to stand near the hive
some mild April day and see them come pouring in with their little
baskets packed with this first fruitage of the spring. They will have
new bread now; they have been to mill in good earnest; see their dusty
coats, and the golden grist they bring home with them.
When a bee brings pollen into the hive he advances to the cell in which
it is to be deposited and kicks it off, as one might his overalls or
rubber boots, making one foot help the other; then he walks off without
ever looking behind him; another bee, one of the indoor hands, comes
along and rams it down with his head and packs it into the cell, as the
dairymaid packs butter into a firkin with a ladle.
The first spring wild-flowers, whose sly faces among the dry leaves and
rocks are so welcome, are rarely frequented by the bee. The anemone,
the hepatica, the bloodroot, the arbutus, the numerous violets, the
spring beauty, the corydalis, etc., woo all lovers of nature, but
seldom woo the honey-loving bee. The arbutus, lying low and keeping
green all winter, attains to perfume and honey, but only once have I
seen it frequented by bees.
The first honey is perhaps obtained from the flowers of the red maple
and the golden willow. The latter sends forth a wild, delicious
perfume. The sugar maple blooms a little later, and from its silken
tassels a rich nectar is gathered. My bees will not label these
different varieties for me, as I really wish they would. Honey from the
maple, a tree so clean and wholesome, and full of such virtues every
way, would be something to put one’s tongue to. Or that from the
blossoms of the apple, the peach, the cherry, the quince, the
currant,—one would like a card of each of these varieties to note their
peculiar qualities. The apple-blossom is very important to the bees. A
single swarm has been known to gain twenty pounds in weight during its
continuance. Bees love the ripened fruit, too, and in August and
September will such themselves tipsy upon varieties such as the
sops-of-wine.
The interval between the blooming of the fruit-trees and that of the
clover and the raspberry is bridged over in many localities by the
honey locust. What a delightful summer murmur these trees send forth at
this season! I know nothing about the quality of the honey, but it
ought to keep well. But when the red raspberry blooms, the fountains of
plenty are unsealed indeed; what a commotion about the hives then,
especially in localities where it is extensively cultivated, as in
places along the Hudson! The delicate white clover, which begins to
bloom about the same time, is neglected; even honey itself is passed by
for this modest, colorless, all but odorless flower. A field of these
berries in June sends forth a continuous murmur like that of an
enormous hive. The honey is not so white as that obtained from clover,
but it is easier gathered; it is in shallow cups, while that of the
clover is in deep tubes. The bees are up and at it before sunrise, and
it takes a brisk shower to drive them in. But the clover blooms later
and blooms everywhere, and is the staple source of supply of the finest
quality of honey. The red clover yields up its stores only to the
longer proboscis of the bumblebee, else the bee pasturage of our
agricultural districts would be unequaled. I do not know from what the
famous honey of Chamouni in the Alps is made, but it can hardly surpass
our best products. The snow-white honey of Anatolia in Asiatic Turkey,
which is regularly sent to Constantinople for the use of the grand
seignior and the ladies of his seraglio, is obtained from the cotton
plant, which makes me think that the white clover does not flourish
there. The white clover is indigenous with us; its seeds seem latent in
the ground, and the application of certain stimulants to the soil, such
as wood ashes, causes them to germinate and spring up.
The rose, with all its beauty and perfume, yields no honey to the bee,
unless the wild species be sought by the bumblebee.
Among the humbler plants let me not forget the dandelion that so early
dots the sunny slopes, and upon which the bee languidly grazes,
wallowing to his knees in the golden but not over-succulent pasturage.
From the blooming rye and wheat the bee gathers pollen, also from the
obscure blossoms of Indian corn. Among weeds, catnip is the great
favorite. It lasts nearly the whole season and yields richly. It could
no doubt be profitably cultivated in some localities, and catnip honey
would be a novelty in the market. It would probably partake of the
aromatic properties of the plant from which it was derived.
Among your stores of honey gathered before midsummer you may chance
upon a card, or mayhap only a square inch or two of comb, in which the
liquid is as transparent as water, of a delicious quality, with a
slight flavor of mint. This is the product of the linden or basswood,
of all the trees in our forest the one most beloved by the bees.
Melissa, the goddess of honey, has placed her seal upon this tree. The
wild swarms in the woods frequently reap a choice harvest from it. I
have seen a mountain-side thickly studded with it, its straight, tall,
smooth, light gray shaft carrying its deep green crown far aloft, like
the tulip-tree or the maple.
In some of the Northwestern States there are large forests of it, and
the amount of honey reported stored by strong swarms in this section
during the time the tree is in bloom is quite incredible. As a shade
and ornamental tree the linden is fully equal to the maple, and, if it
were as extensively planted and cared for, our supplies of virgin honey
would be greatly increased. The famous honey of Lithuania in Russia is
the product of the linden.