1873.] 



THE AMERICAN BEE JOURNAL. 



185 



It is a queer sight, for an eye accustomed to the 

 vast American fields, to behold these small parcels 

 of land, divided every ten yards by a row of 

 mulberry trees or of grape vines. Silk is one of the 

 largest productions of Lombardy. The mulberry 

 trees, with their bright leaves, if less numerous 

 and left to themselves, without trimming, would 

 give a beautiful appearanee to the fields of Lom- 

 bardy ; but as they are kept low and trimmed every 

 three years, they limit the view and make the 

 fields monotonous by their uniformity. 



An incettatore was waiting for us at the station. 

 The Italian incettatore is a trader who buys fruits, 

 vegetables, eggs, chickens, honey, &c, in the small 

 villages, exactly like the American peddler or the 

 French coquetier. This man was also a bee-keeper ; 

 he had studied this business in Milan, during a 

 month at the Sartori establishment. Having 

 learned, through the papers, my arrival in Milan 

 and my desire to buy queens, he had come to offer 

 Sartori the queens of eighty-seven hives that he 

 had bought, and that he intended to destroy to take 

 the honey. He had agreed to meet us at the 

 • station, and was punctual at the rendezvous. 



The vehicle on which we loaded the willow case 

 containing the boxes for queens, was a two-wheeled 

 cart, very high, and provided with two tall side- 

 ladders. A mule was hitched to it, buried under 

 an enormous pack-saddle and a collar of similar 

 dimensions. We had to climb on this cart. 1 

 approached near the front. " Look out I " said the 

 driver, " my mule kicks." I passed near its head. 

 "Look out! it bites." At last we started, com- 

 fortably seated on our willow case ; but how slowly 

 we traveled. " We will never arrive, avanti, (for- 

 ward) driver!" "My mule does not trot," 

 answered he. And to prove this, he gave it a 

 blow with his whip. The animal slackened its pace 

 to shake its tail and ears and continued to walk. 



At length we arrived in Montebello, a small vil- 

 lage celebrated for two victories gained over flie 

 Austrians. The incettatore explained to us how the 

 armies were placed, and how the Austrians, over- 

 taken by an army four or five times smaller than 

 their own, believed themselves surrounded and fled, 

 abandoning their baggage. At Montebello a mon- 

 ument, representing an Italian soldier, perpetuates 

 the memory of this fait d annex. 



Montebello is at the mouth of a defile which is 

 buried between two mountains of Piedmont. From 

 Montebello one can see the plains of Lombardy, 

 but the nicest point from which the plains can be I 

 seen is the church above Borgo Priolo. From this 

 place one can distinguish the city of Pavia and all j 

 the valley of the Po. Borgo Priolo was our desti- 

 nation; we arrived thereat twelve o'clock. After 

 a bad meal, as to the quality of bread and meats, 

 but bettered by white wine and delicious fruits, 

 we began to scale the mountain. After two hours 

 of travel, in a road too steep for wagons of any 

 kind, we arrived at the place where we were to 

 begin our operations. All the hives are made of 

 hollow trees. They are all of the same height, 

 about twenty-eight inches, notwithstanding the 

 size of the tree, so that there are hives measuring 

 four thousand cubic inches, together with hives 

 that measure about six hundred cubic inches. 

 The smallest hive that I saw was less than five 



inches in diameter, inside measure. These hives 

 are generally placed on shelves hung by the 

 house, more than six feet above ground. The 

 owner pointed out to us those that that he destined 

 to be sold. They were all second swarms or 

 old stocks that had swarmed. They sell the 

 second swarms because they are too weak for win- 

 ter, and the old hives because the combs are old. 

 As for the first swarms the contadino, (peasant,) 

 would not sell them for any price. 



To find the queen, they spread a cloth on the 

 ground, they bring the hive and lay it on its side, 

 closing the opening with the cloth, then they begin 

 drumming it. They thus prepare four or five hives 

 at one time. After three or four minutes, they 

 take the hive up and strike it on the ground to 

 shake the bees out, and then hunt for the queen. 

 If they do not succeed in finding her, they wait a 

 few minutes and recommence. 



We had finished our work in one apiary, and 

 were beginning in another, when the peddler boy 

 arrived with the cart, as he had been taking it 

 through a road accessible to wagons. 



Seeing Sartori climb the ladder, take a hive and 

 bring it down without exciting the bees, he went 

 boldly to the ladder, moved it a little, ascended up, 

 and brought a hive down with as little care as 

 though it had been a sack of potatoes. 



At the sight of this I foresaw what was going to 

 happen, but could not warn him for he understood 

 but one language, Piedmontese. He disappeared 

 in a cloud of mad bees. I hurried to help him, 

 and covered the entrance with a cloth, but was 

 assailed with such fury that I had to leave the 

 spot, although I had a veil, for the bees were sting- 

 ing me everywhere, on the shoulders, on the arms, 

 and on the hands. I hid myself in a bush. Sar- 

 tori laughed at me, but the next day he had to do 

 the same. Still those bees were not usually cross, 

 but we were often drumming hives that did not 

 contain a single drop of honey. 



When the poor peddler boy returned, his lips 

 were as big as my fist, and his eyes were lost in a 

 sudden fatness. This accident did not discourage 

 him, however, he asked for a veil, and continued 

 to help us whilst his master was brimstoning the 

 hives to kill the remainder of the bees, and emptied 

 all the contents. To be continued. 



Hamilton, III. Ch. Dadant. 



The Bee Journals. 



Rev. W. F. Clarke. 



Respected Sir: The January number of the 

 American Bee Journal is at hand, and it is with 

 great pleasure that I see your name on its title page 

 as its Editor. I have always considered it the best 

 journal of its kind in the United States, but shall 

 now look forward with renewed anticipations for its 

 future. 



The point in which the other journals fail to suit 

 the wants of their subscribers is, that they are con- 

 ducted in the special interest of some hobby of 

 their proprietors. 



Another contracted feature of those journals is 

 that they withhold the Post Office address of all 

 their correspondents. The object of such exclusive- 

 ness is manifestly to keep their readers in blissful 



