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ILLINOIS STATE BEE-KEEPERS' ASSOCIATION. 117 



away. They were awfully scared, and said they would never conue to 

 Monastir again. 



Now it was cold, and there was a box of hay there, and I got 

 those three hives and put them into the box and took them over to 

 our camp at Kremlzani, ten miles away. Now, when I asked Otsevitch 

 how much he wants for those, "Well," he says, "to tell you the truth, 

 I can sell those for 300 francs apiece," that is, a bee-hive, "but you 

 being Americans, I would not take a cent ; I want to make you a pres- 

 ent of those." He said: "If you possibly can do something, or if 

 you want to do something, send me some American newspapers, or 

 pictures or books that have anything about bees in them. If I cannot 

 read the language, I would like to look at the pictures." So I have 

 made arrangements now to send some American books, A. B. C. and 

 Gleanings and bee journals and so on, which will be a genuine treat 

 to that man. It is too bad he is not even an American, because he is 

 just thinking about how to develop, how to grow, how to improve, 

 and there is nothing there to encourage him. I told him after the 

 war is over if he can afford to come over to America and start bee- 

 keeping here somewhere he would make a good one. 



A Member. — What price does he get for his honey? 



Prop. Jager. — Honey there was something like $1.25 a pound, 

 in Paris 11.50, and in Milan I found white comb honey that they im- 

 ported from America which they were selling in bottles of that size, 

 I should say six ounces, for 50 cents. It was not more than six ounces. 



I transferred those bees from the big trunk hives into our American 

 hives, the three of them. You know how that shook them up. They 

 stayed right there, went to work. Now this honey down there is 

 beautiful, the so-called hymetus honey. There is nothing in this 

 country I ever tasted so good. It is the famous honey that Virgil 

 describes, the Hymetus honey that the Gods and Goddesses on Olym- 

 pus used, I suppose. Those bees built up the foundation, drew it out, 

 and the remarkable thing now is here. In the plains where we were 

 there was no rain since May 1, and when we were there in August the 

 plains, the grass and weeds, were absolutely withered and dead. There 

 was not a green thing anywhere in the whole place. The heat was 

 110 and 120 day after day. The ground was just burned. I must 

 confess I never went through heat like that in all my life. And yet 

 in the middle of that plain, without green grass, without a flower, 

 except some thistles grew there, I could not see a bee work in those 

 thistles. I went around our camp for a mile, watching and looking 

 where in the world I could see one bee at work. I could not see this 

 summer one of my bees at work, I confess I did not. And yet in those 

 three hives they were drawing out foundation, then they began to 

 store honey, and in three weeks I was able to remove a couple of those 

 outside frames with white capped honey. In fact, when I left in 

 October I took out all the frames that were superfluous, they were 

 really honey-bound, and cut out some of that honey for the boys that 

 remained behind, and it was nearly a wash-tub full. 



Now, where did those bees get the honey? They got that honey 

 from the mountains. The valley was surrounded by mountains, up 

 to 9,000 feet hight, and every afternoon the clouds gathered around 



