DEVOTED TO SCIENTIFIC BEE-CULTURE AND THE PRODUCTION AND SALE OF PURE HONEY. 



VOL. XVII. 



CHICAGO, ILL., AUGUST 10, 1881. 



No. 32. 



*?&§ss&JFEvfj} 



Published every Wednesday, by 



THOMAS G. NEWMAN, 



EDITOR AND PUOPUIETOR, 



974 WEST MADISON ST., CHICAGO, ILL. 



TERMS OP SUBSCRIPTION! 



WEEKLY— (52 numbers) $2 a year, in advance. 



Three or Six Months at the same rate. 

 SEMI-MONTHLY— The flrst and third numhersot 



each month, at Sl.OO a year, in advance. 

 MONTHLY— The flrst number of each month, at 



5© cents a year, in advance. 



%S~ Any person sending a club of six is entitled 

 to an extra copy (like the club) sent to any address 

 desired. Sample copies furnished free. 



£b*~ Remit by money-order, registered letter, ex- 

 press or bank draft on Chicago or New York, pay- 

 able to our order. Such only are at our risk. Checks 

 on local banks cost us '2o cent* for collecting. 



Free of postage in the United States or Canada. 

 Postage to Europe oO cents extra. 



Entered at Chicago post office as second class matter. 



For the American Bee Journal. 



Apis Dorsata, the Large Bee of Java. 



W. Z. HUTCniNSON. 



The following is an extract which I 

 have copied from a recent number of 

 The Youth's Companion. Anything in 

 regard to Apis dorsata seems to be of 

 interest just now. Here is the extract: 



In the year 1857 I was mate of the 

 ship "Ellen Bird," then making her 

 third voyage, it was in the 4>almy 

 days of the sandal- wood and beeswax 

 trade, and we were at the Island of 

 Timor, anchored at Delhi haven, tak- 

 ing in a cargo. 



While slowly taking in sandal-wood, 

 log by log, I, as mate of the vessel, 

 was dispatched on a trip inland, to 

 hasten the collection of beeswax. 



Much has been said and written 

 concerning bees, but I think the reader 

 will yet hnd something novel in a 

 brief description of tire wild bees of 

 Timor, and the odd method by which 

 the natives capture them. 



These bees (the Apis dorsata) do not, 

 like the wild bees of America and 

 other countries, build their nests in 

 hollow trees, or clefts in the crags. I 

 was astonished to see hanging to the 

 lower side of some stout branch, far 

 up in the top of the loftiest trees, a 

 great cone of honey comb, often 4 feet 

 in diameter by 5 feet in length. These 

 combs are so piled and covered in as 

 to resist the weather completely, and 

 are cemented to the branch with a 

 thick, glutenous stump of very tough 

 and compact wax. I estimated the 

 weight of some of these large combs 

 at 300 pounds. 



During the week we were in the for- 

 est, we took, I should think, nearly 

 600 of these honey cones. The honey, 



save what we could eat with our food, 

 was no use to us, and I have little 

 doubt that thirty or forty thousand 

 pounds of honey was destroyed by us 

 in that one week, for the wax was all 

 that we cared to take. 



The first time I saw the natives take 

 a bees' nest I thought their method of 

 doing it as peculiar as the nest itself 

 was odd. This particular nest hung 

 from a limb of a tall, straight, smooth- 

 barked eucalyptus tree, 75 feet from 

 the ground. The trunk was a yard or 

 more in diameter. To cut it down 

 would have been several hours' work, 

 even for an experienced woodsman, 

 while to climb it, after the ordinary 

 fashion, would have been out of the 

 question. This is the way Benn, one 

 of the Timor men, set to work. First, 

 he took from his bundle a torch of 

 some resinous wood, and lighted it. 

 This torch he attached to his waist- 

 cloth, or girdle, by means of a string 

 some 10 feet long, so that as he climbed 

 up, the slowly burning, but densely 

 smoking torch would hang beneath 

 him. To this girdle was also hung a 

 chopping knife, for cutting off the 

 comb from the branch, and a long line 

 in a coil, for lowering it to the ground. 

 Fola, another of the men, now brought 

 him a strong bush rope, or creeper, 

 some 20 feet long, green and pliable, 

 and freshly cut from the thicket. 

 Benn first passed one end of this 

 creeper around the trunk of the tree, 

 then, grasping an end of it in each 

 hand, leaned back, and setting hisfeet 

 against the trunk, he began to walk up 

 the tree, holding fast by the brush 

 rope, and throwing it up, by a quick 

 jerk, after every second step. It was 

 wonderful to note the skill with which 

 he took advantage of the least rough- 

 ness or scar in the bark, to get a hold 

 for the loop, or for his feet. He was no 

 more than a minute going up 60 feet. 

 All this time he was almost enveloped 

 in a cloud of smoke from the torch, 

 which seemed to prevent the bees from 

 settling on his body, which, but for 

 his waist-cloth, was entirely bare and 

 exposed to their stings. Arriving di 

 rectly beneath the limb to which the 

 comb was suspended, by a dexterous 

 spring he threw himself partly over it, 

 then drawing up his torch so that the 

 smoke completely enveloped his body, 

 he rested for some moments before 

 creeping out on the branch to cut off 

 the combs. Thousands of bees were 

 flying about him, and thousands more 

 were clinging in black masses to the 

 outside of the comb. But upon Benn's 

 holding out the torch beneath them, 

 they all rose in a dense cloud, filling 

 the forest with their deep solemn hum. 

 Defended by the smoke, Benn had in 

 a moment or two made a double noose 

 of his smaller line around the comb, 

 and then, with a few deft cuts of his 

 chopper, he cleaved off the cone from 

 the limb, and lowered it unbroken 

 to the ground. In 3 minutes more he 

 walked down the tree, much as he had 

 walked up, and stood among us, none 

 the worse for his exploit, with the ex- 

 ception of a few stings. Afterwards 

 I repeatedly saw Fola, Amme, Motu- 

 leet, and a dozen others of our native 

 squad, climb up for nests in the same 

 way. It was their customary method. 



Rogersville, Mich. 



For the American Bee Journal. 



How to get rid of Fertile Workers. 



E. A. THOMAS. 



Fortunate it is for bee-keepers that 

 the fertile worker is of rare occur- 

 rence, and can only occur in a colony 

 in an abnormal condition. No one 

 should allow a colony to remain queen- 

 less or without the means to rear one 

 from, a single day, and whoever does 

 will lay himself liable to a new chap- 

 ter of experience in bee-culture. I 

 believe the old adage, " an ounce of 

 prevention is worth a pound of cure," 

 holds good in this case, and if the 

 apiarist will take proper care of his 

 bees he will have but little trouble 

 with fertile workers. But the most 

 careful bee-keeper will sometimes 

 have a case, especially if he has a 

 large number of colonies to care for, 

 and how to get rid of the workers has 

 doubtless puzzled many. 



I think there is a difference in colo- 

 nies, for, while some will readily ac- 

 cept the means of obtaining a queen, 

 others seem bent on their own destruc- 

 tion, and nothing can be done with 

 them until the fertile worker is re- 

 moved. I have never had a full colony 

 with a fertile worker, but now and 

 then have a nucleus colony, which 

 loses their first queen in going out to 

 meet the drone, and so has no means 

 of supplying the loss. After having 

 experimented some as to the best way 

 of getting the worker out of the col- 

 ony I have concluded that the treat- 

 ment given below is the only sure way 

 to deal with "tough cases" that refuse 

 to receive a queen or raise one. 



I have had 2 nuclei troubled with 

 fertile workers, one of which readily 

 accepted a queen-cell, and, in course 

 of time, had a fine laying queen. But 

 the other would not accept a queen or 

 start any cells from brood given them. 

 I repeatedly inserted cells which the 

 bees would take care of until hatched 

 and then kill. This seemed to be, a 

 case where the bees had accepted a 

 worker for their queen, and regarded 

 all queens as intruders. 



I had about concluded to subject 

 them to the treatment given below, 

 when, by accident, I discovered a 

 worker in the act of laying. I 

 watched her while she laid quite a 

 number of eggs, the bees treating her 

 with all the consideration they would 

 a queen, and then I pinched her head. 

 1 had always thought that there was 

 only one fertile worker in a colony, 

 and I now had an opportunity to test 

 the matter. In a short time after I 

 killed this worker the bees manifested 

 all the signs of queenlessness, and I 

 immediately gave them some eggs and 

 larvas, when they became quiet and 

 soon had cells started. I then gave 

 them a cell from a full colony, as I 

 rear no queens from nucleus cells, and 

 in due time they had a laying queen. 



If anyone should find a fertile 

 worker in a colony let him try the fol- 

 lowing treatment : Shake the bees 

 from all but one or two combs during 

 the day, and at night, when the bees 

 are quiet, remove the hive to a new 

 stand, and put a new hive with the 

 combs taken from the old colony, on 



the old stand. In the morning the 

 bees will commence to go back to the 

 old stand, and after a sufficient num- 

 ber have returned, give them a queen- 

 cell and brood in all stages. The bees 

 in a colony having a fertile worker 

 are, of course, nearly all old bees, and 

 so will nearly all return to the old 

 stand. The fertile worker and a few 

 bees will remain, which can be destroy- 

 ed, or they can be united with the col- 

 ony after the queen is established. 



This manner of treatment reminds 

 me of a very sure way to introduce 

 queens. Remove the hive to a new 

 stand and place a hive containing a 

 frame or two of brood on the old 

 stand. After all the old bees have 

 returned to the old stand, introduce 

 the queen to the young bees left in the 

 hive, and after she has commenced to 

 lay take the hive off the old stand and 

 return the old hive containing the 

 queen. The old bees will return 

 gradually, but so few returning at a 

 time, and they finding the queen so 

 quiet on the combs, do not offer to 

 touch her. This is the way I intro- 

 duce imported queens, and all those 

 that I do not wish to run any risk on. 



Coleraine, Mass. 



For the American Bee Journal. 



Rocky Mountain Bee Plant. 



R. W. KEENE, M. D. 



Dear Editor : Will you, or some 

 of your correspondents, give me some 

 information as to the best manner of 

 raising the Rocky Mountain bee plant 

 — when and how to sow it, etc. ? I 

 sowed some of it in drills in my gar- 

 den in the spring of 1880, and it did 

 not come up until last spring, and then 

 only about 30 plants. From what I 

 have seen of these few plants it beats 

 anything for bee pasturage— the bees 

 are on it from daylight until noon, and 

 while everything else is parched with 

 drouth it is flourishing. My bees have 

 been working on it 5 weeks— if I had 

 one or two acres of it now I would en- 

 joy it, and I know my bees would. I 

 also have a few plant's of sweet clover 

 that have been in bloom a month, but 

 there has not been one bee on it yet. 

 I had intended to sow several acres of 

 the latter this fall, but I am afraid it 

 will not produce honey here. What do 

 you think of it? Give me your advice. 



My bees have done, well, for a begin- 

 ner. I have taken 1,800 pounds of 

 honey from 19 colonies in the spring, 

 and made 26 new colonies. I lost 6 

 last winter. I use the simplicity chaff 

 hive, with chaff pillow over the brood- 

 chamber. I commenced with 3 colo- 

 nies in the spring of 1879, and now 

 have 45 good colonies, all in chaff 

 hives. I have succeeded well in every- 

 thing, except in preventing my colo- 

 nies, run for section honey, from 

 swarming. I have averaged 60 one- 

 pound sections to 9 hives, which I con- 

 sider a failure in box honey, for, if I 

 could have prevented swarming, I 

 could have obtained 100 pounds to the 

 colony just as well. I took 107 pounds 

 from 'the only colony that did not 

 swarm. My highest yield from the 

 extracted colonies was 230 pounds. 

 My honey is all sold at 15 and 20 cents, 



