226 G L E A N I N G S I N 



FROM THE FIELD 



BEE CULTURE 



April, 1919 



OF EXPERIENCE 



Alsike clover and raspberry. 



Mich.; for Menominee Couixty, County Agrl. 

 Agent, Menominee, Mich.; for Iron County, 

 County Agrl. Agent, Crystal Falls, Mich.; 

 for Gogebic County, County Agrl. Agent, 

 Ironwood, Mich.; for Baraga County, Coun- 

 ty Agrl. Agent, L'Anse, Mich.; for Alger 

 County, County Agrl. Agent, Munising, 

 Mich. B. F. Kindig. 



East Lansing, Mich. 



[Our cover picture shows a typical scene 

 in the Northern Peninsula before the timber 

 has been cut off. — Editor.] 



WHAT ONE MISTAKE DID 



A Bee Escape That Didn't Work Well as a Bee 

 Confiner — Then Trouble 



' ' No, I 'm disappointed in Kipling nowa- 

 days. He should have written a much bet- 

 ter story about bees; and it's not particular- 

 ly funny either! " 



Thus spoke the writer after reading a 

 short story by Kipling called "The Vortex,'.' 

 dealing with the terrorization of an English 

 village by two angry swarms of bees which 

 had broken out of their hives in an accident 

 while being moved. This at ten o 'clock in 

 the morning just (as fate would have it) be- 

 fore beginning maneuvers with my own 

 bees. It is now two o'clock, and the odor 

 of witch hazel pervades the atmosphere. 



T am an enthusiastic beekeeper of the 

 gentler sox, and wish very much to take off 

 a little surplus honey to eat and sell; so, all 

 the big honey flows being over in this neigh- 

 borhood till the fall flow from goldenrod 

 and aster, I was inspired with the very bril- 

 liant idea of transporting a hive of bees to 

 the edge of a large pond six miles away, 

 which is surrounded with quantities of 

 clethra — that fragrant blossoming shrub 

 known by some as spice brush — which is 

 now in full bloom. I thought that I, altho 

 the owner of only six hives, could have my 

 little experimentation on a small and modest 

 scale. It was an experiment in very truth, 

 but far from small and modest! Selecting 



the hive, I put wire netting over all the 

 entrance but a small place in which I stuck 

 a Porter bee-escape, that the field bees might 

 get back in their hive again. The bee-escape 

 is an invaluable little invention made with 

 two steel springs thru which the bees can get 

 out but not crawl back again. In this in- 

 stance I reversed it so that the bees could 

 get into the hive but not come out. Then 

 strong cleats were put on, to hold the hive- 

 body and bottom-board together, and the 

 cover nailed down. After all but a dozen 

 field bees were in I put the hive in the back 

 of my buggy and started off in a hurry to get 

 my sister-in-law and take her to the train 

 on my way to the pond. As I neared her 

 house (a quarter of a mile away) I noticed 

 some bees flying about the back of the bug- 

 gy, but supposed they were some of the field 

 bees which were persistently following their 

 peripatetic home. When I stopped, quite a 

 bevy surrounded us ; and my sister, who was 

 about to get in, waved her parasol frantical- 

 ly about, performed some odd gyrations, and 

 dashed into the house. 



' ' Hurry up and get in, " I shouted. 

 "They're all right, only hurry up. They're 

 not stinging me, you see. ' ' 



' ' Darn it, ' ' she answered, most profanely, 

 " I don't care whether they're stinging you 

 or not. They 're stinging me. ' ' 



I waited no longer, but, touching the 

 horse, trotted down the road at a good swift 

 pace, thinking to out-distance the pursuers; 

 but, not at all. More and more came, and 

 then came the stings. I looked back, and 

 a stream of living javelins were issuing 

 from the hive, burying their weapons in the 

 back of my neck, and occasionally darting 

 on to stab the horse 's flanks or quarters. 

 The Porter bee-escape had worked loose. 

 What should I do? I could not stop and 

 plug up the entrance; for when I slackened 

 speed the attacking forces were overpower- 

 ing. Many tales had I heard of plunging 

 horses being stung to death by infuriated 

 bees, and I wanted no such experience for 

 the horse or myself either. Without stop- 

 ping at all I leaned over and jerked a light 

 carriage robe over the hive as well as I 

 could. Tho not absolutely efiicient it help- 

 ed a good deal. On we raced, the bees tear- 

 ing after — occasionally a muttered word and 

 a vicious slap in the hair at the back of my 

 neck, or a sting scraped from my wrist. At 

 irregular but frequent intervals the horse 

 woiild suddenly bound ahead at amazing 

 spurts of speed. But ever, like evil demons, 

 were those creatuies behind and around us. 

 I knew we must keep going or the horse 

 would be stung to death. The Lord only 

 knew how it would end, anyhow. We met 

 an acquaintance who smiled and bowed 

 pleasantly. There was no use of warning 

 her, for the evil had been done; so I also bow- 

 ed and smiled, and wondered how long she 



