1903 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



921 



5'et, strang^ely enoug'h, even now those same 

 old feeling-s which I experienced in my ear- 

 ly bee-keeping- da3's will often return when 

 I see a swarm issue. The musical hum of 

 contentment; the "vim" with which the 

 bees go forth to look for a new home; and, 

 above all, the perfect concord existing- be- 

 tween those teeming thousands can not fail 

 to impress the thoughtful mind with the 

 fact that not infrequently, even among- the 

 lower orders of .God's great creation, there 

 exists an innate harmon3' terriblj' lacking- 

 in the family of man. 



Doubtless these or kindred thoughts pass- 

 ed dimly through my mind as I watched 

 that swarm issue. At length the bees 

 ceased to rush out at the entrance, and im- 

 mediatelj' over mj' head hovered as fine a 

 swarm as ever g-laddened the heart of an 

 amateur. Every thing was in readiness — 

 swarming-'basket, pole, new 

 hive, etc. With what delight 

 I watched them as thej' linger- 

 ed near a limb of our old man- 

 go-tree! Surely that was a 

 nice place for them to cluster; 

 3'et they did not cluster there, 

 but circled hig-her and high- 

 er (I began to glance nervous- 

 ly at the cliff). While I looked 

 their numbers seemed to be 

 diminishing strangelj'. Then 

 suddenly I realized that the 

 swarm proper was away in 

 front, and what I was gazing 

 at was but the stragglers in 

 the rear. M\' worst fears were 

 realized — my swarm was ab- 

 sconding. Some one (for quite 

 a few of the house folk had as- 

 sembled to see what was to 

 them a new and novel proced- 

 ure, but which they have since 

 come to regard as common- 

 place) began beating an old 

 hoe with might and main; an- 

 other suggested water; another 

 pitched sand wildly into the 

 air; but in spite of every thing, 

 in less time than it takes to 

 tell it those bees had started for the cliff, 

 and I was rushing wildly after them. 



Oh how they did lly! It seemed to me 

 they traveled as fast as a locomotive engine; 

 and what a lively time I had following 

 them, scaling stone walls, crossing lots, 

 down the steep bank, into the river, up the 

 other bank, over the barbed-wire fence, 

 through coffee and cocoa plantations, through 

 the village which lay in the bee-line (much 

 to the surprise if not consternation of the 

 villagers) following hard all the while up- 

 on the tail end of the swarm, until, almost 

 breathless, and with perspiration oozing 

 from every pore, I found myself at the foot 

 of the cliff, and, looking up, saw, to my 

 chagrin and dismaj', my swarm going into 

 a hollow log at the top. A while I watched 

 it despairingl3^ Is this the way I was to 

 be repaid for months of hard work? And 

 my dreams of large apiaries, were they 



only dreams after all? A minute later and 

 I had resolved to get back that swarm at 

 all costs. 



A circuitous path brought me, after a 

 hard climb, to a position in the hill over- 

 looking the cliff. Cautiously descending I 

 worked my way, in a very undignified man- 

 ner, I confess, to within a few yards of 

 their location, and reconnoitered. The bees 

 had already taken possession of their new 

 home, and were evidently as happy in their 

 old hollow tree as they were in their nice 

 painted hive at home. 



Two questions now confronted me — would 

 I have the nerve to descend to the edge of 

 the cliff? And if I did, how would I be 

 able to take the bees from their stronghold? 



The first was soon decided. Crawling 

 still more cautiously along I at length 

 reached the edge of the precipice and 



perched m3'self astride that hollow log. 

 Now came the next difficulty, viz., to re- 

 move the bees. The only way that seemed 

 feasible was to take hold of them and pull 

 them out, and this I determined to do. A 

 messenger sent home soon returned with 

 the only thing I could substitute for gloves 

 — socks. Fixing my nucleus-box in position 

 I put a pair on each hand, and heroically 

 made the first scoop. " Blazes! " I near- 

 ly yelled. Didn't the3' just stick it into 

 me? Pitching that first hot handful into 

 my box, and shutting it hurriedly, I put 

 another sock on each hand and tried again. 

 Talk about long tongues ! I don't know how 

 long theirs were; but I knew from the most 

 practical sort of experience that their "bus- 

 iness end " was long enough to go through 

 those three socks all right. The more they 

 stung, the more resolute I became. Putting 

 on my last pair of socks I set to work 



