I have not the space to speak at length of the other enemies of the honied race: nor indeed is it at all necessary. If the Apiarian only succeeds in keeping his stocks strong, they will be their own best protectors, and if he does not succeed in this, they would be of little value, even if they had no enemies ever vigilant, to watch for their halting. Nations which are both rich and feeble, invite attack, as well as unfit themselves for vigorous resistance. Just so with the commonwealth of bees. Unless amply guarded by thousands ready to die in its defence, it is ever liable to fall a prey to some one of its many enemies, which are all agreed in this one opinion, at least, that stolen honey is much more sweet than the slow accumulations of patient industry.
In the Chapters on Protection and Ventilation, I have spoken of the fatal effects of dysentery. This disease can always be prevented by proper caution on the part of the bee-keeper. Let him be careful not to feed his bees, late in the season, on liquid honey, (see Chapter on Feeding,) and let him keep them in dry and thoroughly protected hives. If his situation is at all damp, and there is danger that water will settle under his Protector, let him build it entirely above ground; otherwise it may be as bad as a damp cellar, and incomparably worse than nothing at all.
There is one disease, called by the Germans, "foul brood," of which I know nothing, by my own observation, but which is, of all others, the most fatal in its effects. The brood appear to die in the cells, after they are sealed over by the bees, and the stench from their decaying bodies infects the hive, and seems to paralyze the bees. This disease is, in two instances, attributed by Dzierzon, to feeding bees on "American Honey," or, as we call it, Southern Honey, which is brought from Cuba, and other West India Islands. That such honey is not ordinarily poisonous, is well known: probably that used by him, was taken from diseased colonies. It is well known that if any honey or combs are taken from a hive in which this pestilence is raging, it will most surely infect the colonies to which they may be given. No foreign honey ought therefore to be extensively used, until its quality has been thoroughly tested. The extreme violence of this disease may be inferred from the fact, that Dzierzon in one season, lost by it, between four and five hundred colonies! As at present advised, if my colonies were attacked by it, I should burn up the bees, combs, honey, frames, and all, from every diseased hive; and then thoroughly scald and smoke with sulphur, all such hives, and replenish them with bees from a healthy stock.
There is a peculiar kind of dysentery which does not seem to affect a whole colony, but confines its ravages to a small number of the bees. In the early stages of this disease, those attacked are excessively irritable, and will attempt to sting any one who comes near the hives. If dissected, their stomachs are found to be already discolored by the disease. In the latter stages of this complaint, they not only lose all their irascibility, but seem very stupid, and may often be seen crawling upon the ground unable to fly. Their abdomens are now unnaturally swollen, and of a much lighter color than usual, owing to their being filled with a yellow matter exceedingly offensive to the smell. I have not yet ascertained the cause of this disease.
That the queen of a hive is often lost, and that the ruin of the whole colony soon follows, unless such a loss is seasonably remedied, are facts which ought to be well known to every observing bee-keeper.
Some queens appear to die of old age or disease, and at a time when there are no worker-eggs, or larvæ of a suitable age, to enable the bees to supply their loss. It is evident, however, that no very large proportion of the queens which perish, are lost under such circumstances. Either the bees are aware of the approaching end of their aged mother, and take seasonable precautions to rear a successor; or else she dies very suddenly, so as to leave behind her, brood of a suitable age. It is seldom that a queen in a hive that is strong in numbers and stores, dies either at a period of the year when there is no brood from which another can be reared, or when there are no drones to impregnate the one reared in her place. In speaking of the age of bees, it has already been stated that queens commonly die in their fourth year, while none of the workers live to be a year old. Not only is the queen much longer lived than the other bees, but she seems to be possessed of greater tenacity of life, so that when any disease overtakes the colony, she is usually among the last to perish. By a most admirable provision, their death ordinarily takes place under circumstances the most favorable to their bereaved family. If it were otherwise, the number of colonies which would annually perish, would be very much greater than it now is; for as a number of superannuated queens must die every year, many, or even most of them might die at a season when their loss would necessarily involve the ruin of their whole colony. In non-swarming hives, I have found cells in which queens were reared, not to lead out a new swarm, but to supply the place of the old one which had died in the hive. There are a few well authenticated instances, in which a young queen has been matured before the death of the old one, but after she had become quite aged and infirm. Still, there are cases where old queens die, either so suddenly as to leave no young brood behind them, or at a season when there are no drones to impregnate the young queens.
That queens occasionally live to such an age as to become incapable of laying worker eggs, is now a well established fact. The seminal reservoir sometimes becomes exhausted, before the queen dies of old age, and as it is never replenished, (see p. 44,) she can only lay unimpregnated eggs, or such as produce drones instead of workers. This is an additional confirmation of the theory first propounded by Dzierzon. I am indebted to Mr. Wagner for the following facts. "In the Bienenzeitung, for August, 1852, Count Stosch gives us the case of a colony examined by himself, with the aid of an experienced Apiarian, on the 14th of April, previous. The worker-brood was then found to be healthy. In May following, the bees worked industriously, and built new comb. Soon afterwards they ceased to build, and appeared dispirited; and when, in the beginning of June, he examined the colony again, he found plenty of drone brood in worker cells! The queen appeared weak and languid. He confined her in a queen cage, and left her in the hive. The bees clustered around the cage; but next morning the queen was found to be dead. Here we seem to have the commencement, progress and termination of super-annuation, all in the space of five or six weeks."
In the Spring of the year, as soon as the bees begin to fly, if their motions are carefully watched, the Apiarian may even in the common hives, generally ascertain from their actions, whether they are in possession of a fertile queen. If they are seen to bring in bee-bread with great eagerness, it follows, as a matter of course, that they have brood, and are anxious to obtain fresh food for its nourishment. If any hive does not industriously gather pollen, or accept the rye flour upon which the others are feasting, then there is an almost absolute certainty either that it has not a queen, or that she is not fertile, or that the hive is seriously infested with worms, or that it is on the very verge of starvation. An experienced eye will decide upon the queenlessness, (to use the German term,) of a hive, from the restless appearance of the bees. At this period of the year when they first realize the magnitude of their loss, and before they have become in a manner either reconciled to it, or indifferent to their fate, they roam in an inquiring manner, in and out of the hive, and over its outside as well as inside, and plainly manifest that something calamitous has befallen them. Often those that return from the fields, instead of entering the hive with that dispatchful haste so characteristic of a bee returning well stored to a prosperous home, linger about the entrance with an idle and very dissatisfied appearance, and the colony is restless, long after the other stocks are quiet. Their home, like that of the man who is cursed rather than blessed in his domestic relations, is a melancholy place: and they only enter it with reluctant and slow-moving steps!
If I could address a friendly word of advice to every married woman, I would say, "Do all that you can to make your husband's home a place of attraction. When absent from it, let his heart glow at the very thought of returning to its dear enjoyments; and let his countenance involuntarily put on a more cheerful look, and his joy-quickened steps proclaim, as he is approaching, that he feels in his "heart of hearts," that "there is no place like home." Let her whom he has chosen as a wife and companion, be the happy and honored Queen in his cheerful habitation: let her be the center and soul about which his best affections shall ever revolve. I know that there are brutes in the guise of men, upon whom all the winning attractions of a prudent, virtuous wife, make little or no impression. Alas that it should be so! but who can tell how many, even of the most hopeless cases, have been saved for two worlds, by a union with a virtuous woman, in whose "tongue was the law of kindness," and of whom it could be said, "the heart of her husband doth safely trust in her," for "she will do him good and not evil, all the days of her life."
Said a man of large experience, "I scarcely know a woman who has an intemperate husband, who did not either marry a man whose habits were already bad, or who did not drive her husband to evil courses, (often when such a calamitous result was the furthest possible from her thoughts or wishes,) by making him feel that he had no happy home." Think of it, ye who find that home is not full of dear delights, as well to yourselves, as to your affectionate husbands! Try how much virtue there may be in winning words and happy smiles, and the cheerful discharge of household duties, and prove the utmost possible efficacy of love and faith and prayer, before those words of fearful agony are extorted from your despairing lips,
when amid tears and sighs of inexpressible agony, you settle down into the heart-breaking conviction that you can have no home until you have passed into that habitation not fashioned by human hands, or inhabited by human hearts!
Is there any husband who can resist all the sweet attractions of a lovely wife? who does not set a priceless value upon the very gem of his life?
I trust my readers, remembering my profession, will pardon this long digression to which I felt myself irresistibly impelled.
When the bees commence their work in the Spring, they give, as previously stated, reliable evidence either that all is well, or that ruin lurks within. In the common hives however, it is not always easy to decide upon their real condition. The queenless ones do not, in all cases, disclose their misfortune, any more than all unhappy husbands or wives see fit to proclaim the full extent of their domestic wretchedness: there is a vast amount of seeming even in the little world of the bee-hive. One great advantage in my mode of construction is that I am never obliged to leave anything to vague conjecture; but I can, in a few moments, open the interior, and know precisely what is the real condition of the bees.
On one occasion I found that a colony which had been queenless for a considerable time, utterly refused to raise another, and devoured all the eggs which were given to them for that purpose! This colony was afterwards supplied with an unimpregnated queen, but they refused to accept of her, and attempted at once to smother her to death. I then gave them a fertile queen, but she met with no better treatment. Facts of a similar kind have been noticed, by other observers: thus it seems that bees may not only become reconciled, as it were, to living without a mother, but may pass into such an unnatural state as not only to decline to provide themselves with another, but actually to refuse to accept of one by whose agency they might be rescued from impending ruin! Before expressing too much astonishment at such foolish conduct, let us seriously inquire if it has not often an exact parallel in our obstinate rejection of the provisions which God has made in the Gospel for our moral and religious welfare.
If a colony which refuses to rear another queen, has a range of comb given to it containing maturing brood, these poor motherless innocents, as soon as they are able to work, perceive their loss, and will proceed at once, if they have the means, to supply it! They have not yet grown so hardened by habit to unnatural and ruinous courses, as not to feel that something absolutely indispensable to their safety is wanting in their hive.
A word to the young who may read this treatise. Although enjoined to "remember your Creator in the days of your youth," you are constantly tempted to neglect your religious duties, and to procrastinate their performance until some more convenient season. Like the old bees in a hive without a queen, that seek only their present enjoyment, forgetful of the ruin which must surely overtake them, so you may find that when manhood and old age arrive, you will have even less disposition to love and serve the Lord than you now have. The fetters which bind you to sinful habits will have strengthened with years until you find both the inclination and ability to break them continually decreasing.
In the Spring, as soon as the weather becomes sufficiently pleasant, I carefully examine all the hives which do not present the most unmistakable evidences of health and vigor. If a queen is wanting, I at once, if the colony is small, break it up, and add the bees to another stock. If however, the colony should be very large, I sometimes join to it one of my small stocks which has a healthy queen. It may be asked why not supply the queenless stock with the means of raising another? Simply because there would be no drones to impregnate her, in season; and the whole operation would therefore result in an entire failure. Why not endeavor then to preserve it, until the season for drones approaches, and then give it a queen? Because it is in danger of being robbed or destroyed by the moth, while the bees, if added to another stock, can do me far more service than they could, if left to idleness in their old hive. It must be remembered that I am not like the bee-keepers on the old plan, extremely anxious to save every colony, however feeble: as I can, at the proper season, form as many as I want, and with far less trouble and expense than are required to make anything out of such discouraged stocks.
If any of my colonies are found to be feeble in the Spring, but yet in possession of a healthy queen, I help them to combs containing maturing brood, in the manner already described. In short, I ascertain, at the opening of the season, the exact condition of all my stock, and apply such remedies as I find to be needed, giving to some, maturing brood, to others honey, and breaking up all whose condition appears to admit of no remedy. If however, the bees have not been multiplied too rapidly, and proper care was taken to winter none but strong stocks, they will need but little assistance in the Spring; and nearly all of them will show indubitable signs of health and vigor.
I strongly recommend every prudent bee-keeper who uses my hives, to give them all a most thorough over-hauling and cleansing, soon after the bees begin to work in the Spring. The bees of any stock may, with their combs, &c., all be transferred, in a few minutes, to a clean hive; and their hive, after being thoroughly cleansed, may be used for another transferred stock; and in this way, with one spare hive, the bees may all be lodged in habitations from which every speck of dirt has been removed. They will thus have hives which can by no possibility, harbor any of the eggs, or larvæ of the moth, and which may be made perfectly free from the least smell of must or mould or anything offensive to the delicate senses of the bees. In making this thorough cleansing of all the hives, the Apiarian will necessarily gain an exact knowledge of the true condition of each stock, and will know which have spare honey, and which require food: in short, which are in need of help in any respect, and which have the requisite strength to lend a helping hand to others. If any hive needs repairing, it may be put into perfect order, before it is used again. Hives managed in this fashion, if the roofs and outside covers are occasionally painted anew, will last for generations, and will be found, on the score of cheapness, preferable, in the long run, to any other kind. But I ought to beg pardon of the Genius of American cheapness, who so kindly presides over the making of most of our manufactures, and under whose shrewd tuition we are fast beginning to believe that cheapness in the first cost of an article, is the main point to which our attention should be directed!
Let us to be sure, save all that we can in the cost of construction, by the greatest economy in the use of materials; let us compel every minute to yield the greatest possible practical result, by the employment of the most skillful workmen and the most ingenious machinery; but do let us learn that slighting an article, so as to get up a mere sham, having all the appearance of reality, with none of the substance, is the poorest possible kind of pretended economy; to say nothing of the tendency of such a system, to encourage in all the pursuits of life, the narrow and selfish policy of doing nothing thoroughly, but everything with reference to mere outside show, or the urgent necessities of the present moment.
We have yet to describe under what circumstances, by far the larger proportion of hives, become queenless. After the first swarm has gone out with the old mother, then both the parent stock and all the subsequent swarms, will have each a young queen which must always leave the hive in order to be impregnated. It sometimes happens that the wings of the young female are, from her birth, so imperfect that she either refuses to sally out, or is unable to return to the hive, if she ventures abroad. In either case, the old stock must, if left to its own resources, speedily perish. Queens, in their contests with each other, are sometimes so much crippled as to unfit them for flight, and sometimes they are disabled by the rude treatment of the bees, who insist on driving them away from the royal cells. The great majority, however, of queens which are lost, perish when they leave the hive in search of the drones. Their extra size and slower flight make them a most tempting prey to the birds, ever on the watch in the vicinity of the hives; and many in this way, perish. Others are destroyed by sudden gusts of winds, which dash them against some hard object, or blow them into the water; for queens are by no means, exempt from the misfortunes common to the humblest of their race. Very frequently, in spite of all their caution in noticing the position and appearance of their habitation, before they left it, they make a fatal mistake on their return, and are imprisoned and destroyed as they attempt to enter the wrong hive. The precautions which should be used, to prevent such a calamity, have been already described. If these are neglected, those who build their hives of uniform size and appearance, will find themselves losing many more queens than the person who uses the old-fashioned boxes, hardly any two of which look just alike.
The bees seem to me, to have, as it were, an instinctive perception of the dangers which await their new queen when she makes her excursion in search of the drones, and often gather around her, and confine her, as though they could not bear to have her leave! I have repeatedly noticed them doing this, although I cannot affirm with positive certainty, why they do it. They are usually excessively agitated when the queen leaves, and often exhibit all the appearance of swarming. If the queen of an old stock is lost in this way, her colony will gradually dwindle away. If the queen of an after-swarm fails to return, the bees very speedily come to nothing, if they remain in the hive; as a general rule, however, they soon leave and attempt to add themselves to other colonies.
It would be highly interesting to ascertain in what way the bees become informed of the loss of their queen. When she is taken from them under such circumstances as to excite the whole colony, then we can easily see how they find out that she is gone; for when greatly excited, they always seek first to assure themselves of her safety; just as a tender mother in time of danger forgets herself in her anxiety for her helpless children! If however, the queen is carefully removed, so that the colony is not disturbed, it is sometimes a day, or even more, before they realize their loss. How do they first become aware of it? Perhaps some dutiful bee feels that it is a long time since it has seen its mother, and anxious to embrace her, makes diligent search for her through the hive! The intelligence that she cannot anywhere be found, is soon noised abroad, and the whole community are at once alarmed. At such times, instead of calmly conversing by merely touching each other's antennæ, they may be seen violently striking as it were, their antennæ together, and by the most impassioned demonstrations manifesting their agony and despair. I once removed a queen in such a manner as to cause the bees to take wing and fill the air in search of her. She was returned in a few minutes, and yet, on examining the colony, two days after, I found that they had actually commenced the building of royal cells, in order to raise another! The queen was unhurt and the cells were not tenanted. Was this work begun by some that refused for a long time to believe the others, when told that she was safe? Or was it begun from the apprehension that she might again be removed?
Every colony which has a new queen, should be watched, in order that the Apiarian may be seasonably apprised of her loss. The restless conduct of the bees, on the evening of the day that she fails to return, will at once inform the experienced bee-master of the accident which has befallen his hive. If the bees cannot be supplied with another queen, or with the means of raising one, if an old swarm it must be broken up, and the bees added to another stock; if a new swarm it must always be broken up, unless it can be supplied with a queen nearly mature, or else they will build combs unfit for the rearing of workers. By the use of my movable comb hives, all these operations can be easily performed. If any hives have lost their young queen, they may be supplied, either with the means of raising another, or with sealed queens from other hives, or, (if the plan is found to answer,) with mature ones from the "Nursery."
As a matter of precaution, I generally give to all my stocks that are raising young queens, or which have unimpregnated ones, a range of comb containing brood and eggs, so that they may, in case of any accident to their queen, proceed at once, to supply their loss. In this way, I prevent them from being so dissatisfied as to leave the hive.
About a week after the young queens have hatched, I examine all the hives which contain them, lifting out usually, some of the largest combs, and those which ought to contain brood. If I find a comb which has eggs or larvæ, I am satisfied that they have a fertile queen, and shut up the hive; unless I wish to find her, in order to deprive her of her wings, (see p. 203.) I can thus often satisfy myself in one or two minutes. If no brood is found, I suspect that the queen has been lost, or that she has some defect which has prevented her from leaving the hive. If the brood-comb which I put into the hive, contains any newly-formed royal cells, I know, without any further examination, that the queen has been lost. If the weather has been unfavorable, or the colony is quite weak, the young queen is sometimes not impregnated as early as usual, and an allowance of a few days must be made on this account. If the weather is favorable, and the colony a good one, the queen usually leaves, the day after she finds herself mistress of a family. In about two days more, she begins to lay her eggs. By waiting about a week before the examination is made, ample allowance, in most cases, is made.
Early in the month of September, I examine carefully all my hives, so as to see that in every respect, they are in suitable condition for wintering. If any need feeding, (See Chapter on Feeding,) they are fed at this time. If any have more vacant room than they ought to have, I partition off that part of the hive which they do not need. I always expect to find some brood in every healthy hive at this time, and if in any hive I find none, and ascertain that it is queenless, I either at once break it up, or if it is strong in numbers supply it with a queen, by adding to it some feebler stock. If bees, however, are properly attended to, at the season when their young queens are impregnated, it will be a very rare occurrence to find a queenless colony in the Fall.
The practical bee-keeper without further directions, will readily perceive how any operation, which in the common hives, is performed with difficulty, if it can be performed at all, is reduced to simplicity and certainty, by the control of the combs. If however, bee-keepers will be negligent and ignorant, no hive can possible make them very successful. If they belong to the fraternity of "no eyes," who have kept bees all their lives, and do not know that there is a queen, they will probably derive no special pleasure from being compelled to believe what they have always derided as humbug or book-knowledge; although I have seen some bee-keepers very intelligent on most matters, who never seem to have learned the first rudiments in the natural history of the bee. Those who cannot, or will not learn for themselves, or who have not the leisure or disposition to manage their own bees, may yet with my hives, entrust their care to suitable persons who may, at the proper time, attend to all their wants. Practical gardeners may find the management of bees for their employers, to be quite a lucrative part of their profession. With but little extra labor and with great certainty, they may, from time to time, do all that the prosperity of the bees require; carefully over-hauling them in the Spring, making new colonies, at the suitable period, if any are wanted, giving them their surplus honey receptacles, and removing them when full; and on the approach of Winter, putting all the colonies into proper condition, to resist its rigors. The business of the practical Apiarian, and that of the Gardener, seem very naturally to go together, and one great advantage of my hive and mode of management is the ease with which they may be successfully united.
Some Apiarians after all that has been said, may still have doubts whether the young queens leave the hive for impregnation; or may think that the old ones occasionally leave, even when they do not go out to lead a swarm. Such persons may, if they choose, easily convince themselves by the following experiments of the accuracy of my statements. About a week after hiving a second swarm, or after the birth of a young queen in a hive, and after she has begun to lay eggs, open the hive and remove her: carry her a few rods in front of the Apiary, and let her fly; she will at once enter her own hive and thus show that she has previously left it. If, however, an old queen is removed a short time after hiving the swarm, she will not be able to distinguish her own hive from any other, and will thus show that she has not left it, since the swarm was hived. If this experiment is performed upon an old queen, in a hive in which she was put the year before, when unimpregnated, the same result will follow; for as she never left it after that event, she will have lost all recollection of its relative position in the Apiary. The first of these experiments has been suggested by Dzierzon.
Frequent allusions have been made to the importance, for various reasons, of breaking up stocks and uniting them to other families in the Apiary. Colonies which in the early Spring, are found to be queenless, ought at once to be managed in this way, for even if not speedily destroyed by their enemies, they are only consumers of the stores which they gathered in their happier days. The same treatment should also be extended to all that in the Fall, are found to be in a similar condition.
As small colonies, even though possessed of a healthy queen, are never able to winter as advantageously as large ones, the bees from several such colonies ought to be put together, to enable them by keeping up the necessary supply of heat, to survive the Winter on a smaller supply of food. A certain quantity of animal heat must be maintained by bees, in order to live at all, and if their numbers are too small, they can only keep it up, by eating more than they would otherwise require. A small swarm will thus not unfrequently, consume as much honey as one containing two or three times as many bees. These are facts which have been most thoroughly tested on a very large scale. If a hundred persons are required to occupy, with comfort, a church that is capable of accommodating a thousand, as much fuel or even more will be required, to warm the small number as the large one.
If the stocks which are to be wintered, are in the common hives, the condemned ones must be drummed out of their old encampment, sprinkled with sugar-water scented with peppermint, or some other pleasant odor, and added to the others, (see p. 212.) The colonies which are to be united ought if possible, to stand side by side, some time before this process is attempted. This can almost always be effected by a little management, for while it would not be safe to move a colony all at once, even a few yards to the right or left of the line of flight in which the bees sally out to the fields, (especially if other hives are near,) they may be moved a slight distance one day, and a little more the next, and so on, until we have them at last in the desired place.
As persons may sometimes be obliged to move their Apiaries, during the working season, I will here describe the way by which I was able to accomplish such a removal, so as to benefit, instead of injuring my bees. Selecting a pleasant day, I moved, early in the morning, a portion of my very best stocks. A considerable number of bees from these colonies, returned in the course of the day to the familiar spot; after flying about for some time, in search of their hives, (if the weather had been chilly many of them would have perished,) they at length entered those standing next to their old homes. More of the strongest were removed, on the next pleasant day: and this process was repeated, until at last only one hive was left in the old Apiary. This was then removed, and only a few bees returned to the old spot. I thus lost no more bees, in moving a number of hives, than I should have lost in moving one: and I conducted the process in such a way, as to strengthen some of my feeble stocks, instead of very seriously diminishing their scanty numbers. I have known the most serious losses to result from the removal of an Apiary, conducted in the manner in which a change of location is usually made.
The process of uniting colonies in my hive, is exceedingly simple. The combs may, after the two colonies are sprinkled, be at once lifted out from the one which is to be broken up, and put with all the bees upon them, directly into the other hive. If the Apiarian judges it best to save any of his very small colonies, he can confine them to one half or one third of the central part of the hive, and fill the two empty ends with straw, shavings, or any good non-conductor. Any one of my frames, can, in a few minutes, by having tacked to it a thin piece of board or paste-board, or even an old newspaper, be fashioned into a divider, which will answer all practical purposes, and if it is stuffed with cotton waste, &c., it will keep the bees uncommonly warm. If a very small colony is to be preserved over Winter, the queen must be confined, in the Fall, in a queen cage, to prevent the colony from deserting the hive.
I shall now show how the bee-keeper who wishes only to keep a given number of stocks, may do so, and yet secure from that number the largest quantity of surplus honey.
If his bees are kept in non-swarming hives, he may undoubtedly, reap a bounteous harvest from the avails of their industry. I do not however, recommend this mode of bee-keeping as the best: still there are many so situated that it may be much the best for them. Such persons, by using my hives, can pursue the non-swarming plan to the best advantage. They can by taking off the wings of their queens, be sure that their colonies will not suddenly leave them; a casualty to which all other non-swarming hives are sometimes liable; and by taking away the honey in small quantities, they will always give the bees plenty of spare room for storage, and yet avoid discouraging them, as is so often done when large boxes are taken from them. (See Chapter on Honey.)
By removing from time to time, the old queens, the colonies can all be kept in possession of queens, at the height of their fertility, and in this way a very serious objection to the non-swarming, or as it is frequently called, the storifying system, may be avoided. If at any time, new colonies are wanted, they may be made in the manner already described. In districts where the honey harvest is of very short continuance, the non-swarming plan may be found to yield the largest quantity of honey, and in case the season should prove unfavorable for the gathering of honey, it will usually secure the largest returns from a given number of stocks. I therefore prefer to keep a considerable number of my colonies, on the storifying plan, and am confident of securing from them, a good yield of honey, even in the most unfavorable seasons. If bee-keepers will pursue the same system, they will not only be on the safe side, but will be able to determine which method it will be best for them to adopt, in order to make the most from their bees. As a general rule, the Apiarian who increases the number of his colonies, one third in a season, making one very powerful swarm from two, (See p. 211,) will have more surplus honey from the three, than he could have obtained from the two, to say nothing of the value of his new swarms. If, at the approach of Winter, he wishes to reduce his stocks down to the Spring number, he may unite them in the manner described, appropriating all the good honey of those which he breaks up, and saving all their empty comb for the new colonies of the next season. The bees in the doubled stock will winter most admirably; will consume but little honey, in proportion to their numbers, and will be in most excellent condition when the Spring opens. It must not, however, be forgotten, that although they eat comparatively little in the Winter, they must be well supplied in the Spring; as they will then have a very large number of mouths to feed, to say nothing of the thousands of young bees bred in the hive. If any old-fashioned bee-keeper wishes, he can thus pursue the old plan, with only this modification; that he preserves the lives of the bees in the hives which he wishes to take up; secures his honey without any fumes of sulphur, and saves the empty comb to make it worth nearly ten times as much to himself, as it would be, if melted into wax. Let no humane bee-keeper ever feel that there is the slightest necessity for so managing his bees as to make the comparison of Shakespeare always apposite:
While I am an advocate for breaking up all stocks which cannot be wintered advantageously, I never advise that a single bee should be killed. Self interest and Christianity alike forbid the unnecessary sacrifice.
The construction of my hive is such, as to permit me to transfer bees from the common hives, during all the season that the weather is warm enough to permit them to fly; and yet to be able to guarantee that they will receive no serious damage by the change.
On the 10th of November, 1852, in the latitude of Northern Massachusetts, I transferred a colony which wintered in good health, and which now, May, 1853, promises to make an excellent stock. The day was warm, but after the operation was completed, the weather suddenly became cold, and as the bees were not able to leave the hive in order to obtain the water necessary for repairing their comb, they were supplied with that indispensable article. They went to work very busily, and in a short time mended up their combs and attached them firmly to the frames.
The transfer may be made of any healthy colony, and if they are strong in numbers, and the hive is well provisioned, and the weather is not too cool when the operation is attempted, they will scarcely feel the change. If the weather should be too chilly, it will be found almost impossible to make a colony leave its old hive, and if the combs are cut out, and the bees removed upon them, large numbers of them will take wing, and becoming chilled, will be unable to join their companions, and so will perish.
The process of transferring bees to my hives, is performed as follows. Let the old hive be shut up and well drummed[25] and the bees, if possible, be driven into an upper box. If they will not leave the hive of their own accord, they will fill themselves, and when it is ascertained that they are determined, if they can help it, not to be tenants at will, the upper box must be removed, and the bees gently sprinkled, so that they may all be sure to have nothing done to them on an empty stomach. If possible, an end of the old box parallel with the combs, must be pried off, so that they may be easily cut out. An old hive or box should stand upon a sheet, in place of the removed stock, and as fast as a comb is cut out, the bees should be shaken from it, upon the sheet; a wing or anything soft, will often be of service in brushing off the bees. Remember that they must not be hurt. If the weather is so pleasant that many bees from other hives, are on the wing, great care must be taken to prevent them from robbing. As fast therefore as the bees are shaken from the combs, these should be put into an empty hive or box, and covered with a cloth, or set in some place where they will not be disturbed. As soon as all the combs have been removed, the Apiarian should proceed to select and arrange them for his new hive. If the transfer is made late in the season, care must be taken, of course, to give the bees combs containing a generous allowance of honey for their winter supplies; together with such combs as have brood, or are best fitted for the rearing of workers. All coarse combs except such as contain the honey which they need, should be rejected. Lay a frame upon a piece of comb, and mark it so as to be able to cut it a trifle larger, so that it will just crowd into the frame, to remain in its place until the bees have time to attach it. If the size of the combs is such, that some of them cannot be cut so as to fit, then cut them to the best advantage, and after putting them into the frames, wind some thread around the upper and lower slats of the frame, so as to hold the combs in their place, until the bees can fasten them. If however, any of the combs which do not fit, have no honey in them, they may be fastened very easily, by dipping their upper edges into melted rosin. When the requisite number of combs are put into the frames, they should be placed in the new hive, and slightly fastened on the rabbets with a mere touch of paste, so as to hold them firmly in their places; this will be the more necessary if the transfer is made so late in the season that the bees cannot obtain the propolis necessary to fasten them, themselves.
As soon as the hive is thus prepared, let the temporary box into which the bees have been driven, be removed, and their new home put in its place. Shake out now the bees from the box, upon a sheet in front of this hive, and the work is done; bees, brood, honey, bee-bread, empty combs and all, have been nicely moved, and without any more serious loss than is often incurred by any other moving family, which has to mourn over some broken crockery, or other damage done in the necessary work of establishing themselves in a new home! If this operation is performed at a season of the year when there is much brood in the hive, and when the weather is cool, care must be taken not to expose the brood, so that it may become fatally chilled.
The best time for performing it, is late in the Fall, when there is but little brood in the hive; or about ten days after the voluntary or forced departure of a first swarm from the old stock. By this time, the brood left by the old queen, will all be sealed over, and old enough to bear exposure, especially as the weather, at swarming time, is usually quite warm. A temperature, not lower than 70°, will do them no harm, for if exposed to such a temperature, they will hatch, even if taken from the bees.
I have spoken of the best time for performing this operation. It may be done at any season of the year, when the bees can fly without any danger of being chilled, and I should not be afraid to attempt it, in mid-winter, if the weather was as warm as it sometimes is. Let me here earnestly caution all who keep bees, against meddling with them when the weather is cool. Irreparable mischief is often done to them at such times; they are tempted to fly, and thus perish from the cold, and frequently they become so much excited, that they cannot retain their fæces, but void them among the combs. If nothing worse ensues, they are disturbed when they ought to be in almost death-like repose, and are thus tempted to eat a much larger quantity of food than they would otherwise have needed. Let the Apiarian remember that not a single unnecessary motion should be required of a single bee: for all this, to say nothing else, involves a foolish waste of food. (See p. 116.)
In all operations involving the transferring of bees, it is exceedingly desirable that the new hives to which they are transferred should be put, as near as possible, where the old ones stood. If other colonies are in close proximity, the bees may be tempted to enter the wrong hives, if their position is changed only a little; they are almost sure to do this if the others resemble more closely than the new one, their former habitation. If will be often advisable, to transport to the distance of one or two miles, the stocks which are to be transferred; so that the operation may be performed to the best advantage. In a few weeks they may be brought back to the Apiary. In hiving swarms, and transferring stocks, care must be taken to prevent the bees from getting mixed with those of other colonies. If this precaution is neglected many bees will be lost by joining other stocks, where they may be kindly welcomed, or may at once be put to death. It is exceedingly difficult, to tell before hand, what kind of a reception strange bees will meet with, from a colony which they attempt to join. In the working season they are much more likely to be well received, than at any other time, especially if they come loaded with honey: still new swarms full of honey, that attempt to enter other hives, are often killed at once. If a colony which has an unimpregnated queen seeks to unite with another which has a fertile one, then almost as a matter of course they are destroyed! If by moving their hive, or in any other way, bees are made to enter a hive containing an unimpregnated queen, they will often destroy her, if they came from a family which was in possession of a fertile one! If any thing of this kind is ever attempted, the queen ought first to be confined in a queen cage. If while attempting a transfer of the bees to a new hive, I am apprehensive of robbers attacking the combs, or am pressed for want of time, I put only such combs as contain brood into the frames, and set the others in a safe place. The bees are now at once allowed to enter their new hive, and the other combs are given to them at a more convenient time. The whole process of transferal need not occupy more than an hour, and in some cases it can be done in fifteen minutes. If the weather is hot, the combs must not be exposed at all to the heat of the sun.
Until I had tested the feasibility of transferring bees from the old hives, by means of my frames, I felt strongly opposed to any attempt to dislodge them from their previous habitation. If they are transferred in the usual way, it must be done when the combs are filled with brood; for if delayed until late in the season, they will have no time to lay in a store of provision against the Winter. Who can look without disgust, upon the wanton destruction of thousands of their young, and the silly waste of comb, which can be replaced only by the consumption of large quantities of honey? In the great majority of such cases, the transfer, unless made about the swarming season, and previous to the issue of the first swarm, will be an entire failure, and if made before, at best only one colony is obtained, instead of the two, which are secured on my plan. I never advise the transfer of a colony into any hive, unless their combs can be transferred with them, nor do I advise any except practical Apiarians, to attempt to transfer them even to my hives. But what if a colony is so old that its combs can only breed dwarfs? When I find such a colony, I shall think it worth while to give specific directions as to how it should be managed. The truth is, that of all the many mistakes and impositions which have disgusted multitudes with the very sound of "patent hive," none has been more fatal than the notion that an old colony of bees could not be expected to prosper. Thousands of the very best stocks have been wantonly sacrificed to this Chimera; and so long as bee-keepers instead of studying the habits of the bee, prefer to listen to the interested statements of ignorant, or enthusiastic, or fraudulent persons, thousands more will suffer the same fate. As to old stocks, the prejudice against them is just as foolish as the silly notions of some who imagine that a woman is growing old, long before she has reached her prime. Many a man of mature years who has married a girl or a child, instead of a woman, has often had both time enough, and cause enough to lament his folly.
It cannot be too strongly urged upon all who keep bees, either for love or for money, to be exceedingly cautious in trying any new hive, or new system of management. If you are ever so well satisfied that it will answer all your expectations, enter upon it, at first, only on a small scale; then, if it fulfills all its promises, or if you can make it do so, you may safely adopt it: at all events, you will not have to mourn over large sums of money spent for nothing, and numerous powerful colonies entirely destroyed. "Let well enough alone," should, to a great extent, be the motto of every prudent bee-keeper. There is, however, a golden mean between that obstinate and stupid conservatism which tries nothing new, and, of course, learns nothing new, and that craving after mere novelty, and that rash experimenting on an extravagant scale, which is so characteristic of a large portion of our American people. It would be difficult to find a better maxim than that which is ascribed to David Crockett; "Be sure you're right, then go ahead."
What old bee-keeper has not had abundant proof that stocks eight or ten years old, or even older, are often among the very best, in his whole Apiary, always healthy and swarming with almost unfailing regularity! I have seen such hives, which for more than fifteen years, have scarcely failed, a single season, to throw a powerful swarm. I have one now ten years old, in admirable condition, which a few years ago, swarmed three times, and the first swarm sent off a colony the same season. All these swarms were so early that they gathered ample supplies of honey, and wintered without any assistance!
I have already spoken of old stocks flourishing for a long term of years in hives of the roughest possible construction; and I shall now in addition to my previous remarks assign a new reason for such unusual prosperity. Without a single exception, I have found one or both of two things to be true, of every such hive. Either it was a very large hive, or else if not of unusual size, it contained a large quantity of worker-comb. No hive which does not contain a good allowance of regular comb of a size adapted to the rearing of workers, can ever in the nature of things, prove a valuable stock hive. Many hives are so full of drone combs that they breed a cloud of useless consumers, instead of the thousands of industrious bees which ought to have occupied their places in the combs. It frequently happens that when bees are put into a new hive, the honey-harvest is at its height, and the bees finding it difficult to build worker comb fast enough to hold their gatherings, are tempted to construct long ranges of drone comb to receive their stores. In this way, a hive often contains so small an allowance of worker-comb, that it can never flourish, as the bees refuse to pull down, and build over any of their old combs. All this can be easily remedied by the use of the movable comb hive.
A person ignorant of bees, must depend in a very great measure, on the honesty of those from whom he purchases them. Many stocks are not worth accepting as a gift: like a horse or cow, incurably diseased, they will only prove a bill of vexatious expense. If an inexperienced person wishes to commence bee-keeping, I advise him, by all means, to purchase a new swarm of bees. It ought to be a large and early one. Second swarms and all late and small first swarms, ought never to be purchased by one who has no experience in Apiarian pursuits. They are very apt, in such hands, to prove a failure. If all bee-keepers were of that exemplary class of whom the Country Curate speaks, (see p. 33,) it would be perfectly safe to order a swarm of any one keeping a stock of bees. This however, is so far from being true, that some offer for sale, old stocks which are worthless, or impose on the ignorant, small first swarms, and second and even third swarms, as prime swarms worth the very highest market price. If the novice purchases an old stock, he will have the perplexities of swarming, &c., the first season, and before he has obtained any experience. As it may, however, be sometimes advisable that this should be done, unless he makes his purchase of a man known to be honest, he should select his stock himself, at a period of the day when the bees, in early Spring, are busily engaged in plying their labors. He should purchase a colony which is very actively engaged in carrying in bee-bread, and which, from the large number going in and out, undoubtedly contains a vigorous population. The hive should be removed at an hour when the bees are all at home. It may be gently inverted, and a coarse towel placed over it, and then tacked fast, when the bees are shut in. Have a steady horse, and before you start, be very sure that it is impossible for any bees to get out. Place the hive on some straw, in a wagon that has easy springs, and the bees will have plenty of air, and the combs, from the inverted position of the hive, will not be so liable to be jarred loose. Never purchase a hive which contains much comb just built; for it will be next to impossible to move it, in warm weather, without loosening the new combs. If a new swarm is purchased, it may be brought home as follows. Furnish the person on whose premises it is to be hived, with a box holding at the very least, a cubic foot of clear contents. Let the bottom-board of this temporary hive be clamped on both ends, the clamps being about two inches wider than the thickness of the board, so that when the hive is set on the bottom-board, it will slip in between the upper projections of the clamps, and be kept an inch from the ground, by the lower ones, so that air may pass under it. There should be a hole in the bottom-board, about four inches in diameter, and two of the same size in the opposite sides of the box, covered with wire gauze, so that the bees may have an abundance of air, when they are shut up. Three parallel strips, an inch and a half wide, should be nailed, about one third of the way from the top of the temporary hive, at equal distances apart, so that the bees may have every opportunity to cluster; a few pieces of old comb, fastened strongly in the top with melted rosin, will make the bees like it all the better. A handle made of a strip of leather, should be nailed on the top. Let the bees be hived in this box, and kept well shaded; at evening, or very early next morning, the temporary hive which was propped up, when the bees were put into it, may be shut close to its bottom-board, and a few screws put into the upper projection of the clamps, so as to run through into the ends of the box. In such a box, bees may be safely transported, almost any reasonable distance: care being taken not to handle them roughly, and never to keep them in the sun, or in any place where they have not sufficient air. If the box is too small, or sufficient ventilators are not put in, or if the bees are exposed to too much heat, they will be sure to suffocate. If the swarm is unusually large, and the weather excessively warm, they ought to be moved at night. Unless great care is taken in moving bees, in very hot weather, they will be almost sure to perish; therefore always be certain that they have an abundance of air. If they appear to be suffering for want of it, especially if they begin to fall down from the cluster, and to lie in heaps on the bottom-board, they should immediately be carried into a field or any convenient place, and at once be allowed to fly: in such a case they cannot be safely moved again, until towards night. This will never be necessary if the box is large enough, and suitably ventilated.
I have frequently made a box for transporting new swarms, out of an old tea-chest. When a new swarm is brought in this way to its intended home, the bottom-board may be unscrewed, and the bees transferred at once, to the new hive; (See p. 168.) In some cases, it may be advisable to send away the new hive. In this case, if one of my hives is used, the spare honey-board should be screwed down, and all the holes carefully stopped, except two or three which ought to have some ventilators tacked over them: the frames should be fastened with a little paste, so that they will not start from their place, and after the bees are hived, the blocks which close the entrance should be screwed down to their place, keeping them however, a trifle less than an eighth of an inch from the entrance, so as to give the bees all the air which they need. I very much prefer sending a box for the bees: one person can easily carry two such boxes, each with a swarm of bees; and if he chooses to fasten them to two poles, or to a very large hoop, he may carry four, or even more.
If the Apiarian wishes, to be sure the first season, of getting some honey from his bees, he will do well to procure two good swarms, and put them both into one hive. (See p. 213.) To those who do not object to the extra expense, I strongly recommend this course. Not unfrequently, they will in a good season, obtain in spare honey from their doubled swarm, an ample equivalent for its increased cost: at all events, such a powerful swarm lays the foundations of a flourishing stock, which seldom fails to answer all the reasonable expectations of its owner. If the Apiary is commenced with swarms of the current season, and they have an abundance of spare room in the upper boxes, there will be no swarming, that season, and the beginner will have ample time to make himself familiar with his bees, before being called to hive new swarms, or to multiply colonies by artificial means.
Let no inexperienced person commence bee-keeping on a large scale; very few who do so, find it to their advantage, and the most of them not only meet with heavy losses, but abandon the pursuit in disgust. By the use of my hives, the bee-keeper can easily multiply very rapidly, the number of his colonies, as soon as he finds, not merely that money can be made by keeping bees, but that he can make it. While I am certain that more money can be made by a careful and experienced bee-keeper in a good situation, from a given sum invested in an Apiary, than from the same money invested in any other branch of rural economy, I am equally certain that there is none in which a careless or inexperienced person would be more sure to find his outlay result in an almost entire loss. An Apiary neglected or mismanaged, is far worse than a farm overgrown with weeds, or exhausted by ignorant tillage: for the land is still there, and may, by prudent management, soon be made again to blossom like the rose; but the bees, when once destroyed, can never be brought back to life, unless the poetic fables of the Mantuan Bard, can be accepted as the legitimate results of actual experience, and swarms of bees, instead of clouds of filthy flies, can once more be obtained from the carcases of decaying animals! I have seen an old medical work in which Virgil's method of obtaining colonies of bees from the putrid body of a cow slain for this special purpose, is not only credited, but minutely described.
A large book would hardly suffice to set forth all the superstitions connected with bees. I will refer to one which is very common and which has often made a deep impression upon many minds. When any member of a family dies, the bees are believed to be aware of what has happened, and the hives are by some dressed in mourning, to pacify their sorrowing occupants! Some persons imagine that if this is not done, the bees will never afterwards prosper, while others assert, that the bees often take their loss so much to heart, as to alight upon the coffin whenever it is exposed! An intelligent clergyman on reading the sheets of this work, stated to me that he had always refused to credit this latter fact, until present at a funeral where the bees gathered in such large numbers upon the coffin, as soon as it was brought out from the house, as to excite considerable alarm. Some years after this occurrence, being engaged in varnishing a table, and finding that the bees came and lit upon it, he was convinced that the love of varnish, (see p. 85,) instead of sorrow or respect for the dead, was the occasion of their gathering round the coffin! How many superstitions in which often intelligent persons most firmly confide, might if all the facts were known, be as easily explained.
Before closing this Chapter, I must again strongly caution all inexperienced bee-keepers, against attempting to transfer colonies from an old hive. I am determined that if any find that they have made a wanton sacrifice of their bees, they shall not impute their loss to my directions. If they persist in making the attempt, let them, by all means, either do it at break of day, before the bees of other hives will be induced to commence robbing; or better still, let them do it not only early in the morning, but let them carry the hive on which they intend to operate, to a very considerable distance from the vicinity of the other hives, and entirely out of sight of the Apiary. I prefer myself this last plan, as I then run no risk of attracting other bees to steal the honey, and acquire mischievous habits.
The bee-keeper is very often reminded by the actions of his bees of some of the worst traits in poor human nature. When a man begins to sink under misfortunes, how many are ready not simply to abandon him, but to pounce upon him like greedy harpies, dragging, if they can, the very bed from under his wife and helpless children, and appropriating all which by any kind of maneuvering, they can possibly transfer to their already overgrown coffers! With much the same spirit, more pardonable to be sure in an insect, the bees from other hives, will gather round the one which is being broken up, and while the disconsolate owners are lamenting over their ruined prospects, will, with all imaginable rapacity and glee, bear off every drop which they can possibly seize.