212 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



Mar. 



This is my only experience with imported stock; but 

 I think it speaks well for friend Benton's cult. 



Elias Fox. 

 Hillsborough, Wis., Feb. 23, 1886. 



CELLAR WINTERING OF BEES. 



u 



A DIALOGUE. 



OOD morning, neighbor D. I called to see 

 how the bees were wintering. I am los- 

 ll^ ing some of mine." 



^^ " Am sorry you are losing bees, friend 

 H. Mine seem to be wintering well, es- 

 pecially those in the bee-cellar. In fact, 1 never 

 had bees appear so nice and quiet as they do this 

 winter in the cellar." 



"Should like to see them; but from what I read, 

 written by some of the ' big lights,' 1 suppose you 

 never go into your bee-cellar after the bees are 

 put in until you do so to take them out in the 

 spring." 



" Oh! yes, I do. T go into it regularly once every 

 two weeks, and oftener, if I tbink any thing needs 

 doing in there. I suppose I am considered a heretic 

 on this question; but be that as it may, I have every 

 reason to believe that no scientific wintering of bees 

 can be accomplished when ro observations are 

 taken, except when the bees are put in and taken 

 out of the cellar. Bro. Ira Barber gives the tem- 

 perature of his cellar as ranging from 60 to 90°, 

 while by private letter he says he does not take a 

 register of the temperature except when he puts 

 them in and takes them out. These figures, there- 

 fore, are of necessity misleading; for all know that 

 the commotion caused in moving bees would raise 

 the temperature of the cellar much above the nor- 

 mal heat. I venture the assertion, that if Mr. Barber 

 will take a daily register of the temperature of his 

 cellar, as does Bro. L. C. Koot, by letting a ther- 

 mometer down through a hole in the floor, he will 

 find that the temperature of his cellar is not much 

 above that reported by other bee-men. But, come; 

 if you wish to go into the cellar we will go." 



" What! got three doors to go through to get in?" 



" Yes; these three doors inclose two dead-air 

 spaces, and it is a rare thing when any frost gets in 

 this second space, where we will stand while I close 

 the two outer doors and light a lamp. Now, before 

 we open the other door I wish to say to you that 

 you will be careful not to hit any of the hives, nor 

 breathe in any way except through the nostrils; 

 for the breath by way of the mouth in the cellar 

 arouses the bees more than hitting the hives, both 

 of which I desire to avoid." 



"What is that low murmuring noise I hear?" 



"That is the contented hum of the bees in their 

 winter repose, and you can always know that bees 

 arc wintering well when .50 colonies make no louder 

 noise than you now hear." 



" But according to Clarke, of Canada, I thought 

 that bees, when wintering well, were.' hibernating,' 

 and gave no signs of life." 



"Bees never hibernate as do ants, wasps, flies, 

 etc.; and I can not indorse friend Clarke's word as 

 applicable to bees. Quiescence would be much 

 more appropriate, in my opinion, than hiberna- 

 tion." 



"Hark! there is a bee flying, po they fly out 

 here in the dark?" 



*' Yes, that is only a bee ready to (?ie with old age; 



and as instinct prompts the old bees to leave the 

 hive when the temperature will permit, it is only 

 obeying nature's law in flying out. See, here are 

 quite a few bees on the floor, but not nearly as many 

 as is the average of most winters. I often come in 

 here in the dark, and listen for these old bees; and 

 many times before this winter, from two to five 

 would fly out while I was counting 100 slowly; but 

 this winter scarcely more than one comes out while 

 I count 300." 



" What have you on the floor here? Sawdust?" 



" Yes, every month I bring in about a bushel and 

 a half of fine dry basswood sawdust, such as I make 

 while sawing sections, and scatter it on the floor. 

 This sawdust will absorb almost its bulk of mois- 

 ture, so I keep it in here to keep all dry, sweet, and 

 nice. Before I used this, the dead bees on the floor 

 would mold and smell bad, and the combs near the 

 bottom of the hive would also mold; but now all 

 smells sweet and nice, and no mold appears." 



" Here is your thermometer. I see it marks 44°. 

 What is the extreme of temperature in here?" 



" From 43 to 4.5° above zero. After the first few 

 days when the bees are set in, then it is as high as 

 55 to 60°, but lowers to whei-e you see it." 



" What, doesn't a warm spell in winter, or a long 

 cold spell, have any effect upon the temperature in 

 here?" 



"No: and a cellar that allowed of the outside 

 temperature affecting to any extent that inside, I 

 should consider faulty. There are two roofs and 

 three feet of dry earth over this, which, with the 

 three doors, keeps an even temperature. Now step 

 up and look at these yellow fellows when I take off 

 this sawdust cushion and roll back the quilt." 



" Why, Doolittle, they are dead." 



"No, I guess not." 



" But they don't stir." 



" I will breathe upon them." 



" They are alive ! that is a fact. Do they keep 

 always thus quiet?" 



" I have never seen them more uneasy this win- 

 ter; but the year I used artificial heat, and lost so 

 heavily, I could not lift a quilt like that without 

 their boiling all over the tops of the frames." 



" Where are your ventilators?" 



" Here is the sub-earth ventilator, but it is shut 

 oft' at the outer end and has been for the past three 

 months, while the other ventilator is in the opposite 

 end, and at the top. This also is shut down to a hole 

 less than two inches in diameter, as I find that all 

 the air the bees need to keep them in the best con- 

 dition comes through the raasonwork, doors, and 

 earth covering. This is what some call no ventila- 

 tion whatever; but you see the air is pure and good 

 in here. Well, we will go now; but first notice that 

 the bees are nearly if not quite as quiet now as they 

 were when we entered a quarter of an hour ago. 

 If our entering does not disturb them any, why 

 should I not have the privilege of coming in here as 

 often as I please? Good - morning. Come again 

 when you wish to learn more of the bees." 



G. M. Doolittle. 



Borodino, N. Y., March 1, 1886. 



There, friend D., you have got your bee- 

 cellar so you keep it just about the tempera- 

 ture of that deep cold well you told us about, 

 and that is pretty near the temperature of 

 old Mother Earth in your locality. I am 

 somewhat surprised, however, that you are 

 able to keep it so low with the ventilators 



