530 



AMERICAN BEE JOURNAL, 



Aug. 24, 1899. 



hive up so as to leave an open space all around under it. 

 Before commencing' to carry the hives in, I set empty 

 hives about a foot apart in rows thru the cellar, and level 

 them up sidewise. but raise one end so that it is about an 

 inch hig-her than the other. I use a spirit-level for leveling 

 these stands, for it is an important matter to have them 

 about level, if the hives are to be tiered six or seven 

 high, as mine are ; for if they are not thej' may lean over 

 so far that in a cellar that has no floor but the ground, one 

 tier maj- topple over, and its fall throw other tiers over, like 

 a set of nine-pins. 



For carrying the hives from the j-ard to the cellar, I 

 use a carrier that is made so that two hives, or even three, 

 if thej- are not too heavy, can be carried at once by means 

 of handles similar to those of a wheel-barrow, that project 

 out at each end. It requires two men to carry them in this 

 way, but if the hives are some distance from the cellar it is, 

 I think, much better to use something of this kind instead 

 of a wheel-barrow, as with a carrier the bees hardly seem to 

 know that they are being moved. 



On a cloudy day. with the temperature at 40 degrees or 

 lower, I seldom find it necessary to close a hive-entrance. 

 After a hive has been put on its stand in the cellar, I raise 

 it from the bottom-board, which has been loosened a day or 

 so before ; a short piece about one-half an inch thick is put 

 under at each corner, and from some pretty extensive ex- 

 periments I have made in this line, I am convinced that a 

 colon}' will winter fully as well with the hive raised 

 half an inch from the bottom-board all around as it will if 

 it is raised an inch, or as it will with the bottom-board left 

 off entirely ; in fact, many of my hives that have strips on 

 the bottom-boards I only raise the thickness of a lath all 

 around, and have decided that with me it is better than to 

 have them raised higher. I try, tho, to keep the air in the 

 cellar pure, and the rows of hives are far enough apart so 

 that one can walk between them and remove the dead bees 

 on the bottom-boards, if they accumulate so as to make it 

 necessarj'. 



I consider it better to give ventilation enough to keep 

 the air pure, even if doing so does, to some extent, cause an 

 uneven temperature. A few colonies in a cellar of consid- 

 erable size will, in most cases, obtain plenty of air without 

 any special means being' taken to give ventilation, but in a 

 cellar that is well filled up with bees, some means should 

 be taken to admit fresh air at will. 



Of the numerous methods I have tried for giving ventila- 

 tion, I prefer a pipe or tube running from the cellar up 

 thru the roof, independent of any other pipe or chimney, 

 with a suitable hood over the top to prevent rain or snow 

 from running down, and with a damper on the same princi- 

 ple as a damper in a stove-pipe, where it can be most easily 

 reacht, so that it can be regulated as the weather demands. 



Southern Minnesota. 



A Switzerland Blind Bee-Keeper. 



BY D. GRANT. 



IN the Revue Internationale D'Apiculture is a long and 

 most interesting description of an apiary in Switzer- 

 land, with photos of it and its surroundings. It is re- 

 markable for two reasons, first that it is over 3,000 feet 

 above sea-level, only a few hundred feet below the line of 

 perpetual snow, and within I'i miles of one of the large 

 Alpine glaciers with a winter temperature of SO to GO de- 

 grees below freezing, and snow on the ground for eight 

 months of the year; and, second, because the owner and 

 manager is not only a cripple, but absolutely blind. 



This bee-master (for such oil further acquaintance he 

 proves himself to be) has about 30 hives arranged in two 

 tiers on the south side of a large shed. The other three 

 sides are closed, and a door at each end leads into the back 

 part of the shed, where spare hives and combs are stored, 

 and where the operator stands to manipulate his bees. In 

 winter the spaces between and around the hives are filled 

 with dry moss, and large shutters close the open part of 

 the shed. 



He keeps a first-cross Carniolan-German bee, and has 

 found that the first are very given to swarming, while the 

 cross is nearly a non-swarmer. Italians he has found too 

 vicious, and not well able to stand the severe winters. He 

 uses a hive containing seven frames about 11 inches square 

 comb measurement for the brood-nest, and shallower frames 

 in the extracting'-supers, of which he has as many as four 

 on some hives in the photo. He knows when to expect a 

 swarm by the different noises in the hive, and the piping of 

 the queens. An old straw-skep inverted on a stake a few 



j'ards in front of the apiary forms a never-failing swarm- 

 catcher. He is, however, but little troubled with swarms, 

 having only had three last j-ear from 25 colonies. 



To distinguish the brood from the honey he touches the 

 surface of the comb with a chip"of wood, and can tell by 

 the difference in the feel of the cappings how far the brood 

 extends. 



His plan for uniting colonies, judging the strength of 

 a colony, introducing queens, etc., are all unique in their 

 way, while his dodge for finding and killing an old or con- 

 demned queen is too good to pass over. He moves the hive, 

 putting in its place the hive he wishes the bees to go to. 

 This may contain a caged queen (for requeening) or a weak 

 colony (as in uniting). He then draws out the back frame 

 of the old hive, shaking the bees off, and places it in the 

 new hive. Then he drops into its place a frame full of 

 sj'rup in the combs. In a few minutes this is covered with 

 bees. This he shakes into the new hive. He then takes 

 out the next comb, shaking off all the bees. This also goes 

 into the new hive. In a few minutes he drops his frame of 

 syrup in. leaves it awhile, and when covered with bees 

 shakes them into the new hive. He does this until he gets 

 to the last frame. This one, he .says, always has the queen 

 on it, and he plunges it, bees, queen and all into hot water. 

 The bees shaken into the new hive, being gorged with 

 syrup, are always accepted without trouble. 



This bee-keeper has neither veil, smoker nor brush, and 

 uses his hands to remove the bees from the combs. He 

 says, quite contentedly, that his bees know him, and would 

 not sting him because he is blind. He has never heard any- 

 thing read about bees, nearly all he says and does is from 

 his own observations. He does everj-thing in connection 

 with his bees himself except foundation-making, at which 

 his father helps him and extracting, his father's share of 

 this work being the uncapping. — Australian Bee-Bulletin. 



How I Started in Bee-Keeping'. 



BY J. F. SAUTTER. 



IN July, 1897, father sent three of us bovs to a neighbor's 

 to pick cherries. The day was warm and bright. About 

 three o'clock in the afternoon, while we were in the trees 

 picking', we heard a strange sound or humming, and on 

 looking out of the foliage we saw a swarm of bees flying 

 up the ravine toward us. I do not think there were ever 

 three boj's that got down from the top of a cherry-tree 

 quicker than we did. 



Just as soon as we were on the ground, I gave the order 

 to throw sand and gravel in the swarm, which was done 

 with a will. The air was full of sand and gravel for a min- 

 ute or two, when the swarm stopt and began to cluster on an 

 elder-bush. Then a shout went up that would have sur- 

 prised an Indian. 



Now, what were we going to do with them ? The near- 

 est bee-keeper lived about one mile awaj', and after some 

 arguing one of us volunteered to go after a hive, or see if 

 we could get one. Luckily, the good neighbor had just one 

 hive on hand yet — a box-hive, which he sold to us for 25 

 cents. 



The next thing was to hive the bees. None of us were 

 very brave with them yet, altho we had had plenty of fights 

 with bumble-bees on our farm, and ruined manj- a straw- 

 hat in the excitement. But these bees we did not under- 

 stand so well. We had heard father tell how he hived a 

 swarm for a neighbor once, so we started. 



The swarm being clustered on an elder-bush, we were 

 at a loss to know how to get them off" ; but this is the way 

 we did it : 



We set the box-hive up just about as close as we thought 

 we were safe, then taking' out our pocket-knives we whittled 

 the elders off, and gently laid them down in front of the 

 hive, when, to our delight, the bees began to march into the 

 hive. 



Now we had another question to argue — How were 

 we to get them home ? We had with us a strap long enough 

 to tie around the hive, and by taking it and a pole we swung 

 the hive between two of us boys, after closing the entrance 

 with grass. Getting our strap and pole on, we started for 

 home. We felt about as good as Joshua and Caleb must 

 have felt when thej' were coming out of Canaan, only they 

 had grapes, and we had bees and cherries. 



Just as we appeared in the yard at home, father came 

 in from the barn. I can yet see the puzzled look on his 

 face. He did not know whether to scold or not for bringing 

 the bees. He did not scold, tho, but told us where we might 



