44 MANAGEMENT OE OUT-APIARIES 



hopping from spear to spear of grass or weed, for from one to three feet 

 from their entrance, before they could arrive at home with their loads. 

 Heavy-loaded bees "tangle" much worse than those with no loads, and it 

 seems cniel to make the little fellows struggle so to reach home, to say 

 nothing about the apiarist's loss in honey. The looking after all of these 

 things is often what makes the difference between success and a partial or 

 entire failure. By this time the bees in the supers above the escape-boards 

 will have nearly all run out of them, and the few remaining will go out 

 during my wheeling them to the wagon, loading and getting started. The 

 load and the mud make slow driving the order this time, and it is about 

 1 :30 P. M. when I arrive at home. 



In the above the reader has an account of what was done at the sixth 

 visit. To be sure, there is considerable sermonizing mixed in, but this 

 seems necessary for a full understanding of the matter. 



CHAPTER VII. 



TAKING OFF THE SURPLUS; WHAT TO DO WITH THE UNFINISHED SECTIONS; 

 PREPARATION FOR THE BUCKWHEAT FLOW. 



It is now July 24, and the basswood bloom is all gone. With the 

 exception of one or two days at a time, it has been rainy, cold, or windy 

 all through its bloom. If possible the weather has been worse for the bees 

 than during clover bloom. If we could have had the good hot weather 

 which came between the blooms, either in clover or basswood, a far differ- 

 ent showing in honey would have been the result. Now that the basswood 

 bloom is past, it is coming good weather again. While this can make no 

 difference with me now, yet I am glad to have it come, as it is cheering 

 to the hearts of the farmers who have had an uphill time in securing their 

 hay and winter wheat, much hay spoiling on account of the continued 

 wet. Again I am off on the road to the apiary, carrying with me another 

 supply of supers, for the buckwheat bloom is still ahead. As I go, my 

 heart is made light through seeing the many fields on the hillsides and 

 ^•alleys covered with their waving grain, basking in the sunlight, while the 

 pearly streams, being nearly at full bank from our recent rains, make 

 sweet music in their joyous journey toward the river. The pasture lands 

 are nearly as green as in June, while, generally, at this time of the year 

 they are brown and bare. The farmhouses nestle among the green branches 

 of the trees, giving prospects of garnered fruit through the half-grown 

 apples, plums, and pears, discernible among the sun-kissed leaves. Surely 

 all nature is happy — ^why not I? I have done my best with the bees; and 

 if a meager crop is the result, through no fault of mine, I should be happy 

 with what I get. 



With such scenes and thoughts as these, the time passes almost too 

 soon; and before I am hardly aware of it the horse is turning in at the 

 farmer's roadway leading toward the bee-yard. With the horse stabled 

 before a manger of rain-cured hay I enter the apiary. Each colony having 

 sections on is looked after, fixing them now so they are supposed to be all 

 right till the end of the buckwheat harvest, which is the end of the surplus- 

 honey season in this locality. The wheelbarrow, having an empty hive. 



