1893 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



ed proposed that a few of the most intimate 

 families each put up a little lunch, and that a 

 few hours be spent in a social way in a beauti- 

 ful park about a mile up the mountain. The 

 project was put into effect; and when upon 

 the ground, a clam chowder was prepared, with 

 Deacon VVhitcomb as master of ceremonies; 

 and, owing to our climb, we mastered the 

 chowder without much ceremony. When the 

 chowder had been duly disposed of, a few hours 

 were spent in social converse, the woods re- 

 sounding now and then with vocal music, led 

 by Mr. Squires, the gentleman with a guitar 

 and the big green spectacles. 



The pine needles beneath the noble trees 

 made a couch upon which to recline; and, but 

 for so much feminine talk, the Rambler would 

 have tried to regain some of the sleep lost dur- 

 ing the previous night; but it was out of the 

 question, with a dozen women talking all at 

 once. 



That night, when we had all gathered around 

 the big camp-tire in front of Mr. Ferguson's 

 cabin, we concluded that at last on this Sunday 

 night we would have a quiet time. It was, 

 however, hinted that the parties who were foil- 

 ed in their designs on the tent-ropes would 

 seek revenge upon us for helping to defend 

 them, and that we might be served to a few 

 buckets of water or some other disagreeable 

 experience. It was suggested that we move 

 our bed; but we finally concluded to stick to 

 our post, come what would, and retired quite 

 early. Now, it happens that there is a large 

 number of young men employed in the saw- 

 mills, and others in the construction of an irri- 

 gating-tunnel. These young men, hearing the 

 shotgun fusillade the night previous, made up 

 their minds to outdo all efforts previously made. 

 Therefore, promptly at 12 o'clock, after Sunday 

 hours, ;\n explosion occurred that shook the 

 solid earth for miles around, and it was follow- 

 ed by another and another. Mr. Wilder and I 

 were enjoying a sound sleep; but with the first 

 explosion our dazed senses realized that a dozen 

 water-buckets might be in the air, and, with 

 one spasmodic motion, my comrade grabbed all 

 the clothes that were over us, and plunged up 

 hill into the bushes. I grabbed what was un- 

 der us, and went down hill, among the bushes 

 that way. What a racket those mill hands 

 made — Indian yells, gongs, and dvnamitel 

 Thirty sticks of the latter were exploded, and 

 every one of them made a report like a ten- 

 pound cannon. It is needless to say that Camp 

 O. de Swine was thoroughly aroused. A half- 

 hour of such a racket exhausted their resources, 

 and quiet again reigned. Comrade and myself 

 perched ourselves on stones, rubbed our eyes 

 open, and found our limbs all intact; got back 

 to our couch with our wraps, and got a little 

 more fitful slumber. Toward morning, another 

 foraging pig, seeing the disheveled condition of 

 our heads", tried to put bangs on us; but instead 

 the pig was banged with a stone. I have thus 

 tried to describe how bee-keepers sometimes 

 spend their outings in California. 



A tragedy, and the sad end of a bee-keeper, 

 will be the next theme of the Rambler, 



CHALON FOWLS AND HIS NEIGHBOR. 



SE.\.SON'ABLK HI.NTS O.V WINTEIUNG, ETC. 



"Hold on. neighbor Fowls, I want to pump 

 you a little on bees." 



" Well, pump away if you think you can get 

 enough to satisfy your thirst. Neighbor John, 

 what is it ? '" 



■' Why. about wintering. Just come and look 



at some of these swarms, and tell me how you 

 would tix them if they were yours. Now, here 

 is a big swarm in a chaif hive. Would you 

 contract the brood-chamber?" 



"No; there are bees enough to cover eight 

 frames heavily. They won't feel the cold any 

 more than a big fat Newfoundland dog." 



" Now, here are some combs of sealed honey 

 in the upper story. I guess they'll need some 

 of this. The frames are rather light below." 



" How many frames have brood in ? " 



" Four in the middle." 



" Well, take the others out; shove the brood 

 all to one side, and replace the others with 

 frames of honey. There — but, hold on! — those 

 sealed clear to the bottom on the very outside, 

 and those with the lower part unsealed next to 

 the brood." 



" But, now, we have changed the brood-nest 

 to one side; wouldn't it have been better to 

 leave it in the middle and put the honey both 

 sides?" 



" I think not. During a long cold spell they 

 might cluster on the honey on one side of the 

 hive, and, after consuming it, starve without 

 being able to reach the honey on the other side 

 of the hive." 



" Your idea is, to get them started on one side 

 of their stores so they won't miss any." 



"Yes, so they'll take a clean sweep, like the 

 old long potato-bugs." 



" Shall I put any thing across the frames for 

 winter passage?" 



" Yes, some sticks will do, and a piece of bur- 

 lap or old carpet, and you are ready for the 

 cushion." 



" Well, here is another swarm in a two-story 

 chaff hive, that is queenless, and has been so 

 since the fore part of July, when they cast a 

 swarm, and the young queen was lost in mat- 

 ing." 



"Did you give them any brood in that time?" 



"No; as the top story was full of frames of 

 honey that I was saving for winter stores, the 

 lower story was not easy to get at, and 1 took it 

 for granted they were all right without looking 

 to see. They are strong in bees, but rather old, 

 as they were all hatched before August. Would 

 you introduce a queen now?" 



" No; I think not, Her eggs laid in October 

 would hatch in November — too young and ten- 

 der for wintering, and the July bees are too 

 old. They are a bad case." 



"How would it do to unite them with a late 

 second swarm having a good queen and brood 

 hatching since July ? " 



"The second swarm is all right as they are. 

 Even if it is not a large one, you can easily give 

 them their winter stores if lacking. But this 

 old swarm is all wrong. They would just be a 

 damage to the young swarm." 



"But these bees don't look like old wornout 

 bees; in fact, there has been nothing for them 

 to do for two months." 



"Well, I don't know' but they would be all 

 right if the swarm was in a normal condition; 

 but they are not; and, if given a queen now, 

 they would wear themselves out, either by 

 unseasonable breeding this fall or too early in 

 the spring." 



" So you would brimstone them now and 

 avoid spring dwindling." 



" Exactly, and save their winter stores." 



"See here, what a nice lot of brood-combs I 

 have that I am going to put in where they are 

 needed." 



" Yes, they are a good thing to have— almost 

 too good." 



"Ha! ha! ha! too good! how is that?" 



" Why. they are all solid with honey, clear to 

 the bottom— no empty cells for the bees to clus- 

 ter in." 



