512 



itLkanings in bee culture. 



July 1. 



Notes of Travel 



FROM A. I. ROOT. 



In California we havo ppople of all nationali- 

 ties, and people from almost every quarter of 

 the United States. My ^ood friend Woodberry, 

 of whom I have fiequently spoken, is a Down- 

 easter. In fact, his former home was in the 

 State of Maine. Well, after being with him 

 for several days I became so accustomed to his 

 little peculiarities of speech that I thought I 

 could tell whether a man came from Maine or 

 not by talking with him for a few minutes — 

 that is, providing the people in the State of 

 Maine all talked pretty much alike. Near the 

 hot springs of San Jacinto I found some very 

 pleasant people by the name of Dustin. After 

 I had been there an hour or two I spoke some- 

 thing like this: 



.J. H. DUSTIN".S APIAKY near SAN JACINTO, CAL. 



"Mr. Dustin, yon are a Downeaster?" He 

 nodded his head, and then I went on: "And is 

 it not true that you came from the State of 

 Maine?" He smiled as he assented. I did not 

 know then but he might be an acquaintance of 

 friend Woodberry; but I found lie was not. 

 Some time afterward in Tempe, Arizona, I 

 made the same remark to a third beekeeper; 

 and I was right that time. He also was a 

 Downeaster, and came from the State of Maine. 

 Well, I hope the people who live away out in 

 that corner of Uncle Sam's domain arc all as 

 nice as the three I have mentioned. Friend 

 Dustin has not been very long a bee-keeper. 

 His good wife was in very poor health, and 

 nothing gave her so much relief as the hot 

 springs of San Jacinto; therefoie. like a good 

 and dutiful husband, he located a little home 

 upon the granite gravel, part way up the moun- 

 tain-side. As he must have something to do, 

 he got some books and papers, and commenced 



studying up bee culture. Like all other bee- 

 keepers he is a fine mechanic, after the fashion 

 of Yankees generally. As timber is scarce and 

 high he decided to make his honey-house of 

 adobe. The material lay all around right un- 

 der his feet — every thing he needed, in fact, 

 except watei', and this he drew up in barrels. 

 His building was not quite all adobe, however, 

 for adobe houses are made of sun-dried brick, 

 whih' this structure was all one solid brick. 

 He made a sort of frame, or trough, without 

 bottom, and into this he poured his mud. Then 

 the frame was lifted up until the mud was dry 

 enough to stand alone, and then he lifted the 

 frame again, and so on. Every thing in his 

 apiary was in apple-pie order — even the shade- 

 boards to keep olif the hot sun; and his apiary 

 looked so pretty, that, with his assistance, I 

 climbed upon his mud honey-house and snap- 

 ped my Kodak at it. Here is the result. 

 A little way from the apiary was a novel 

 Wotering-place for bees. 

 A can of water stood on 

 the edge of a platform 

 perhaps a yard square. 

 The faucet of the can 

 was turned so the water 

 dropped about as fast as 

 sap runs from a maple- 

 tree on a good sugar day. 

 Underneath the faucet 

 was a tray of tin. This 

 tray is tilled up with lit- 

 tle blocks of granite 

 picked up where it is 

 thickly strewn all over 

 the ground. See cut on 

 next page. 



At the time I took the 

 view, the granite pebbles 

 were thickly covered with 

 bees sipping the water. 

 In fact, the pebbles were 

 covered so thickly that 

 the faucet had to be 

 turned till the water al- 

 most ran a stream. I told 

 friend D. that he was 

 rather babying his bees; 

 for by going down to the 

 hot spring at the foot of 

 the mountain they could 

 get water in great abun- 

 dance. But instead of 

 making the little chaps 

 fly up hill with it he 

 drew it up in a barrel on 

 a stoneboat, with a horse. 

 And this brings us to the 

 problem as to which is 

 cheaper — to let your bees 

 bring water up hill on the wing, or draw it 

 up with a horse and stoneboat. Friend D., 

 Yankeelike, concludes that, if the bees draw it, 

 it must consume muscular energy; and muscu- 

 lar energy means the consumption of honey; 

 therefore when the horse draws the water up 

 for them to drink he makes (or saves) honey by 

 using his immense strength in going afoot. 

 Oh : I forgot to say that the apparatus was ex- 

 temporized from a gasoline-oil can. as you can 

 see in the picture. Now. in order that you may 

 become better acquainted with our good friend 

 Dustin I will let you see a letter from him: 



Friend Root:—! feel that I owe you a letter of 

 thanks, if notlnng- more, for the kindness you man- 

 ifested in sending- nio a year's coii)i>limenlriry sub- 

 scription to Gi^KANiNGs. I saw Ijy tlie hist Glean- 

 ings thiit you arrived liome on the 5th. We can 

 imafrino your joy on reacliing home again. " Home 

 again from a foreign sliore." We liope and trust 

 tliat you luive received great benefit from your 



