996 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE 



like the first stage, neither are they swollen. 

 To all apjiearances they are just ordinary 

 bees which are running about the ground, 

 and for some reason cannot fly. If you 

 watch closely you will find that some of 

 them (what percentage I cannot say) will 

 succeed in flying; but the bulk of them will 

 get slower and slower in their motions, and 

 eventually die. If this were all, the trouble 

 would not amount to very much; but it is 

 not. It is onlj' the small end of it. 



The disease attacks the bees very sudden- 

 ly. A bee is, so to speak, well one minute 

 and dead the next; and for every one that 

 dies in the vicinity of the hive, twenty die 

 in the fields. Occasionally, when I have 

 been eating my lunch near an apiary, bees 

 passing overhead have fallen dead in my 

 lap. It is quite a common thing to find bees 

 affected in front of the hive, loaded with 

 liollen. 



I have mentioned before in Gleanings 

 what is locally known as '' disappearing 

 disease.'"' Last winter I and many others 

 lost a lot of colonies through it, and I dis- 

 covered an isolated case of it in the apiary 



about an hour ago. It was a single-story 

 hive to which I had given a j^ure queen 

 from a nucleus six weeks before. At that 

 time it had four frames of brood and plenty 

 of honey and jJoUen ; and for the amount 

 of brood it was well off for bees. I opened 

 the same hive this morning and found one 

 piece of brood not two inches across, plenty 

 of pollen and honey, and about sixty bees 

 and the queen. All the rest of the bees had 

 " disappeared." I do not know what causes 

 this disease, and I do not know any one who 

 does; but I think it is caused by a malig- 

 nant attack of the sort of paralysis last 

 mentioned, where the bees die while out 

 foraging. I know this condition of affairs 

 is sometimes brought about by shortage of 

 pollen ; but in this case there was plenty of 

 pollen and a young queen about a month 

 old whose sisters are doing well in other 

 neighboring hives. If mine is not the right 

 explanation of the cause of the trouble, 

 what is it? The vagarious phases of pa- 

 rah'sis have puzzled me. 



Mororo, N. S. W., Australia. 



BEE TREE STRUCK BY LIGHTNING 



BY JOHN E. KEEFER. 



On July 27, 1913, lightning struck a large 

 chestnut-tree only a few hundred yards 

 from my home. After the rain my brother 

 walked to the tree to see the damage done, 

 when he noted some bees flying about. Call- 

 ing me we made an investigation and found 

 that the tree had been the abode of a colony 

 of bees. Lightning struck off the upper 

 part of the tree, but did no damage to the 

 trunk and lower part, in which the bees 

 were located. 



We decided to cut out the combs, expect- 

 ing a lot of honey, as this was a very good 

 season for honey; but when we had a hole 



cut in we saw a pitiful sight. Since the 

 tree was hollow, the lightning struck down 

 the inside of it and actually tore the combs 

 to pieces. All that was left was a conglom- 

 erated mass of honey, combs, dead bees, 

 brood, rotten wood, and a few demoralized 

 bees. 



It Avas a fine Italian colony, and no doubt 

 the one that left me the June before without 

 as much as bidding goodby. " The way of 

 tlie transgressor is hard." 



I hope the other bees in my apiary may 

 take this as a warning and never abscond. 



Millcrsburg, Pa., Aug. 8. 



BY GRACE ALLEN 



Still — so still — so strangely still! 



No gleam of flashing wings. 

 The days are miserly and chill. 

 My hives are still — so strangely still — 



And nothing ever sings. 

 Pale and wan the shivery hours 



Are utterly bereft 

 Of warmth and glow and scent of flowers ; 

 Of flaming summer's perfumed bowers 



Not one is left. 



O silent home ! so like a tomb ; 



Is every fair hope dead? 

 O dreamers in your shadowed room, . 

 Huddled close in dusky gloom, 



Have all your visions fled? 

 Not so ? Then tell me, you that dare 



To soar through sunlit gleam, 

 When skies go dark, and, through gray air, 

 Unfriendly winds blow everywhere. 



How do you keep your dream ? 



