1893 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



Iti5 



California, is admirably adapted to use with 

 the Harbison hive. Open the door in the rear, 

 and the smol<e, escaping from the bent tube, 

 rolls out and up against the bees, and quickly 

 subdues them. The tire-box will hold fuel 

 enough to last half a day, or even longer. 

 Our friend was thoroughly wedded to the Har- 

 bison hive, smoker, and 2-lb. section. The 

 bellows smoker was no good in that apiary, 

 just as a Harbison smoker would be no good 

 with a Langstroth or other hive where we desire 

 to blow the smoke down. Though nearly all of 

 the colonies are worked for comb honey. Mr. 

 N. has an extractor, and uses it to some extent. 

 While with Mr. Nelson we all happily "bach- 

 ed" together so far as the cooking was concern- 

 ed. We had been very lucky that day in 

 hunting quail, and we had a delicious feast. 

 The Rambler's way of preparation is to first 

 get a tine bed of coals (I want Dr. Miller to 

 take particular notice); then fork a fine slice 

 of bread and hold it just far enough from the 

 coals to nicely brown it; then butter to suit. 



Delightful experiences, however, are fleeting; 

 and before the rich aroma had vanished, our 

 tent was folded, and, with a brotherly wrench 

 of the hand, we bade Chris Nelson farewell and 

 climbed to the next divide and crossed the pass 

 into the Campo region. 



Under the high pressure of barley, whip per- 

 suader, and gravity, Kimball and Bob made 

 great speed down every grade we came to, and 

 it was here the Rambler put in some fine shoot- 

 ing. Gray squirrels were quite plentiful; and 

 finding that our dog Queen was fond of them 

 we tried to appease her appetite by shooting a 

 few every day ; and when in camp they were 

 roasted for her. Now and then a squirrel 

 would be seen sitting on a limb, making a fine 

 target; and my request to Mr. H. to stop the 

 horses until I could take aim was usually an- 

 swered with a snap of the whip, and a shout, 

 " Go. Bob." and the wagon would fairly dance 

 over the road; and while it danced, the report 

 of the gun resounded, and Queen, with a yelp, 

 brought in the game. It is something like 



cuKis nelson's apiaky, jm)treko, cal.; tecarte peak in the distance. 



The aroma of the bread will begin to sharpen 

 the appetite ; but meanwhile the quails have 

 been parboiled, then cut open, propei'ly salted 

 and spiced, and nicly browned in the skillet; 

 and when laid carefully on the toast— oh! such 

 a delicious combination of odors arise and fill 

 the room, that every one is soon engaged in 

 passing the savory morsels to the mouth. We 

 close the eyes, and the senses of smell and taste 

 held us in a delightful control; and while the 

 dainty morsel was on mv tongue the imagina- 

 tion was quickened, and the following ode to 

 Dr. Miller was composed: 



O Dr. Miller! raise you nose 



And catch tlie sweet perfume; 

 It's far above the fragrant rose. 



For you smell and then— consume. 

 Chorus.— Ho women need apply. 

 Do, doctor, come to my cabin door; 



Th' old bach gives a welcome call; 

 There's always room for just one more. 



And toast and quail for all. 



Chorus. — No women need apply. 



shooting at a mark from a flying trapeze; but 

 it's nothing after you get the hang of it. 



Another way people have of shooting squirrels, 

 where they are very shy and run up a tree on 

 the opposite side from them, is to keep a sharp 

 lookout up the tree; and whenever the tail is 

 seen sticking out, as it often will, the hunter 

 shoots the tail. The squirrel, feeling something 

 out of order, then whirls around to see, so to 

 speak, who struck Billy Patterson, and indis- 

 creetly shows his head. The other barrel is in- 

 stantly discharged, and down comes the squir- 

 rel. This kind of shooting requires a double- 

 barreled gun, and quick work every time. The 

 Rambler, however, is not an expert at that 

 kind of shooting, and leaves it to the more ex- 

 perienced marksmen. 



At noon we camped by a sparkling stream in a 

 beautiful dell, canopied with tall sycamore-trees. 

 Near by was a pretty cottage, and posted on 

 one of the trees was a sign informing us that 

 this was the home of the Widow Bedott. Now, 

 I used to read the Widow Bedott papers several 



