280 



Tmm mimmmic-Mm mmm j@wmmmi^. 



of honey to store away for their suc- 

 cessors to winter upon, long after they 

 have died from exhaustion, or become 

 food for the rapacious spider ? 



How strange the sight, when the old 

 queen and almost the entire colon3', 

 without any apparent regret, leave the 

 old home with all its stores of honey ; 

 its young, a part of which are but just 

 cradled, and a portion wrapped in 

 their night blankets, to sleep until they 

 are old enough to take their place in the 

 colonj- as nurse-bees, and go forth to 

 form a nevv colony in a new home, with 

 no capital save the energy of the army 

 of little workers. 



How strange that these little insects 

 should know just how to build their 

 combs, of just the shape which science 

 has demonstrated aiibrds the most 

 room, while it aflbrds the greatest pos- 

 sible strength, and with a mathemat- 

 ical precision that is unsurpassed by 

 human skill ; that they should know 

 when it is necessary to rear a young 

 queen, the kind of food that should be 

 furnished for her full development, and 

 how much room she must have to grow 

 in ! And a hundred curious things you 

 see by studying the nature and chai'- 

 acteristics or tiie honey-bee. 



The caprice of the little creature is 

 nowhere more fully proved than by 

 the finding of a swarm in the carcass 

 of the lion which Samson killed. 

 Many are the curious freaks of this 

 queer little insect, about the habits and 

 needs of which too little is known. 

 No more interesting subject for the 

 study of the naturalist, especially if his 

 beeship should take a notion to point 

 the investigation, and "sit down" on 

 the investigator. 



Primitive bee-keeping was rude in 

 its inception, and barbarous in its 

 prosecution. The poor' little in.sects 

 were housed in a hollow-log or an in- 

 verted straw-basket, and left to shift 

 for tliemselves ; and failing to find an 

 abundant store of supplies for the win- 

 ter, they were doomed, if not to a 

 "lake of fire and brimstone," at least 

 to the fumes of combustion, that the 

 proceeds of their toil might be enjoyed 

 by others, who labored not for it. If 

 the colony escaped the brimstone pro- 

 cess, it was left to battle with the frosts 

 of a long, dreary winter, upon the 

 summer stand, unsheltered and un- 

 cared for. 



Nor was the avarice of man and the 

 severity of Avinter the only enemies of 

 the little hoiu'3-gatherer, for its home 

 was invaded by the bee-moth in sum- 

 mer, and by the rapacious mouse in 

 winter, winch burrowed and built its 

 nest within the hive, wliile it fattened 

 upon the lioney and honey-gatherer. 

 But the invasion of the mouse was the 

 result of the grossest carelessness on 

 the part of the bee-keeper, while the 



ravages of the bee-moth seemed to 

 long baffle the skill and ingenuity of 

 the apiarist. 



Scarcely a farmer present who has 

 not seen a " moth-proof" bee-hive, and 

 listened to the lingo of the vender, 

 who knew as much about bee-culture 

 as a Digger Indian does of mental phi- 

 losophy ; and ninety-nine times out of 

 a hundred the "moth-proof" hive was 

 a grand success, for it housed the bees, 

 if j-ou ever got them into it, until the 

 moth could hatch in sufficient numbers 

 to devour both bees and honey. 



The bee-moth is a sort of anarchist, 

 and insists upon a division of capital, 

 and is especially opposed to the accu- 

 mulation of large stores of honey, un- 

 less she is let in for her full share ; and 

 her wages for a time seemed to perma- 

 nently endanger profitable bee-culture, 

 as our native bee seems powerless to 

 repel the insidious attacks of this insid- 

 ious pest. 



But the Italian bee, though of foreign 

 extraction (like unto most Americans), 

 seems to have adopted American ideas, 

 and is disposed to, and does, adminis- 

 ter summary justice on every intruder 

 of the moth-family upon the apparent 

 motto, "Let no guilty one escape." So 

 that, instead of resorting to any moth- 

 catching process, all you want to in- 

 sure against the moth-incursions is, a 

 simple common-sense hive, and a vig- 

 orous, healthy colony of pure Italian 

 bees. 



There seems to be about as much dif- 

 ference in the disposition and intelli- 

 gence of the diii'erent varieties of bees 

 as there is in the different races of 

 men ; and of tlie varieties known here 

 the Italian has the decided preference ; 

 although the large gray bee, sometimes 

 called the German bee, is by no means 

 without its very good qualities. But 

 of all the vai'ieties none equal the gen- 

 uine native black bee. The real little 

 Ethiopian, so inquisitive in its nature, 

 and always at leisure, you have no 

 trouble in becoming acquainted, get- 

 ting on familiar terms without the for- 

 mality of an introduction. Ever on 

 the alert, you can scarcely come with- 

 in ear-shot of a colony of this variety, 

 until you are met by from one to a 

 dozen of the little "darlings," each 

 one so anxious to peep into your eyes, 

 and, embracing the first oppoi-tunity, to 

 nestle in your hair. 



But attempt to manipulate a hive of 

 this variety, and it is remarkable how 

 quickly they impress you with the con- 

 viction that they are true Americans — 

 even if they are a little " off color," — 

 by their ability to " repel invasions 

 from abroad," while of you they make 

 a second Arnold Winkclried. 



Let bee-keeping once become thor- 

 oughly understood, and honey will be 

 found on every taljle — even the sting 



of the bee will be utilized by our phy- 

 sicians as an antidote for rheumatism 

 — and beeswax will be so abundant 

 that, lacking a better use, it will be 

 converted into " nice white wax," or 

 to some other equally beneficent pur- 

 pose. 



EXPERIMENTS. 



Small Loss in Weight — Hiberna- 

 tion and Ventilation. 



Written for the American Bee Journal 



BY EUGENE SECOE. 



It is an old story to tell how the 

 bees have wintered, but as I have tried 

 some (to me) new experiments, it may 

 be interesting to record them. 



I began carrying the bees into the 

 cellar on Oct. 19, 1888, and on Nov. 

 9 I finished the job. They were housed, 

 as usual, in the cellar under the house 

 where we live. Forty-five colonies was 

 the number stored. The weather was 

 beautiful, and continued so till after 

 the holidays — indeed the whole winter 

 was as mild as Texas, and bees could 

 have flown, probably, every week from 

 October until April. 



Befoi'e cellaring them, I weighed 

 every colony. On April 4, 1889, I be- 

 gan removing them from the cellar, 

 and finished on April 10. I weighed 

 all the colonies as they were taken out. 

 I lost two, which were probably queen- 

 less in the fall. The shrinkage for the 

 remainder was from 3 to 20 pounds — 

 average loss, 10 pounds. The average 

 number of days confined was 157. 



The cellar was almost too warm, all 

 winter, being difficult to keep the tem- 

 perature below 50^, Fahr. A 6-inch 

 sub-earth ventilator of common tile 

 has its upper outlet in the bee-room, and 

 its lower about 100 feet from the house, 

 running under ground from 2 to 6 feet 

 deep. 



The bees came out in good condi- 

 tion, and it now looks as though I 

 should not lose any in "springing" 

 them. The colony that lost only 3 

 pounds was so quiet when removed, 

 that the boj's said they thought it must 

 be dead, as it had not " waked up " 

 when all the others were basking in 

 the sunshine. To learn the facts, 1 

 took off the cover, and found a nice 

 colony elevating their kinder reminders 

 just as they do on a frosty morning in 

 the fall, when the cover is suddenly 

 removed. Let nie see, who was it that 

 said, " Bees never hibernate?" Per- 

 haps he meant " hardly ever." 



Ilive-Ventilation in Winter. 



Now in regard to ventilation : When 

 taking the bees into the cellar I neg- 

 lected to remove the entrance-blocks 

 from two or three hives, as is my usual 



