1879 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



57 



it out by this very process, and fly off un- 1 

 harmed. I need not tell you that it takes 

 some heroism, to submit patiently to all this 

 manoeuvring. The temptation is almost un- 

 governable, while experiencing the intense 

 pain, to sty, while you give him a clip, 

 "There, you little beggar, take that and learn 

 better manners, in future." 



Well, how does every bee know that he 

 can extricate his sting by walking around it? 

 Some would say it is instinct. Well, I guess 

 it is; but it seems to me, after all, that he 

 "sort o' remembers" how his ancestors have 

 behaved in similar predicamsnts for ages 

 and ages past. 



ODOR OF THE DEB STING POISON. 



After one bee has stung you, if you use the 

 hand that has been stung among the bees in 

 the hive, the smell of the poison, or some- 

 thing else, will be pretty sure to get more 

 stings for you, unless you are very careful. 

 Also after one sting has been inflicted, there 

 seems a much greater chance, when about 

 in the apiary, of getting more stings. Mr. 

 Quinby has'suggested that this is owing to 

 the smell of the poison, and that the use of 

 smoke will neutralize this scent. This may 

 be so, but I am not fully s dished of it. 



DOES THE DEE DIE AFTER LOSING HIS STING? 



It seems strange, after all that has been 

 written about it, that nobody seems to know 

 whether the bee dies or not. I know it does 

 not die right away after losing its sting, for 

 I have kept them some time in confinement, 

 afterward, and could not see but they flew 

 off just as well as bees that had not lost their 

 sting. I am inclined to think they live and 

 gather honey after the sting is gone, but they 

 probably never do much more in the sting- 

 ing line' The matter might be tested by 

 painting the backs of a number of bees 

 which have lost their stings, as we do in bee 

 hunting. If you rind them day after day in 

 the hive, and see them witli loads of pollen, 

 we will then know that losing their stings 

 does not spoil them for other duties. I have 

 often identified certain bees, both in the 

 hive, and on the alighting board as they came 

 in from the fields. 



SMOKE NOT ALWAYS A PREVENTIVE OF DEE 



STINGS. 



Although smoke is our great reliance as a 

 security against stings while working among 

 bees, there are sometimes colonies, or sea- 

 sons of the year, I scarcely know which, 

 when one can get along better without it. I 

 remember trying to open a colony of hybrids 

 in the fall of the year, to show them to my 

 wife. As a safeguard, I first gave them a 

 good smoking; but, to my surprise, they got 

 into a perfect panic, and poured out of the 

 hive and showed tight, in great numbers. It 

 is true, I could drive them down, but the 

 minute I ceased smoking them, to lift out a 

 comb, they became perfectly infuriated, and 

 although driven down to the bottom board 

 repeatedly, they were up and ready for an 

 attack, almost as soon as the smoker was 

 turned away from the hive. I let them go, 

 without half making the examination I 

 wished. The next day, in passing the hive. 



I thought I would look in, and see if they 

 were of the same opinion still. I had no 

 smoker, and so raised the corner of the cloth 

 over the frames cautiously. They kept on 

 with their work, and seemed to care nothing 

 about the intrusion. I took the cloth clear 

 off, lifted frame after frame, but not a bee 

 showed the least sign of hostility. In sur- 

 prise. I carried a frame with the queen on it, 

 into the house and showed it to my wife, and 

 told her it was the same swarm that acted 

 so wickedly, just the day before. The only 

 trouble seemed to be that they very decided- 

 ly objected to having their hive deiuged with 

 the offensive smoke, and I am sure it must 

 be very painful to them in its effects. I took 

 the lesson, and have since often found that 

 I could get along even better without smoke. 

 Have your smoker in readiness, and if you 

 are obliged to use smoke, use a very little, as 

 circumstances seem to decide best. Some- 

 times, the only way seems to be to use it in 

 considerable quantities, but I would never 

 smoke the poor little fellows needlessly. 



MECHANICAL CONSTRUCTION AND OPERA- 

 TION OF THE STING. 



After a bee has stung you, and torn him- 

 self away from the stinger, you will no- 

 tice, if you look closely, a bundle of muscles, 

 near by and partly enveloping the poison 

 bag. Well, the curious part of it is, that for 

 some considerable time after the sting has 

 been detached from the body of the bee, 

 these muscles will work with a kind of pump 

 like motion, working the sting further into 

 the wound, as if they had a conscious ex 

 istence, and burned with a desire to wreak 

 vengeance on the party attacked. Nay, far- 

 ther after the sting has been pulled from 

 the flesh and thrown away, if it should stick 

 to your clothing in such a way that your 

 tlesh will come in contact with it, it will 

 commence working again, pulling itself into 

 the tlesh, and emptying the poison into the 

 wound, precisely as if the living bee was 

 himself working it. I have been stung a 

 great many times, from a sting without any 

 bee about it. at all. Without any precise fig- 

 ures, I should say a sting would hold life 

 enough to give a very painful wound, as long 

 as full five minutes, and it may be, in some 

 cases, even ten minutes. This phenomenon 

 is most wonderful, and I have often, while 

 watching the sting sink into the rim of my 

 felt hat, pondered on that wonderful thing, 

 animal life. Why should that isolated sting 

 behave in this manner, when the bee to 

 which it belonged was perhaps far away, 

 buzzing through the air? Why should this 

 bundle of libers and muscles behave as if it 

 had a life to throw away? I do not know. 

 Tins, however, I do know; when you pull a 

 sting from the wound, you should throw it 

 far enough away so that it will not get back 

 on your face or hands, or into your hair, to 

 sting you again. 



In giving the following description of a 

 bee sting. I am much indebted to the draw- 

 ings and description given by J. It. Bledsoe, 

 of Natches, Mississippi, in the American Bee 

 Journal for August, 1870. I am also in- 

 debted to Prof. Cook's excellent Manual, 

 for hints on this as well as on many other 



