Langstroth on the Hive and the Honey-Bee: A Bee Keeper's Manual

by L. L. Langstroth

Artificial Rearing of Queens.

The distress of the bees when they lose their queen, has already been described. If they have the means of supplying her loss, they soon calm down, and commence forthwith, the necessary steps for rearing another. The process of rearing queens artificially, to meet some special emergency, is even more wonderful than the natural one, which has already been described. Its success depends on the bees having worker-eggs or worms not more than three days old; (if older, the larva has been too far developed as a worker to admit of any change:) the bees nibble away the partitions of two cells adjoining a third, so as to make one large cell out of the three. They destroy the eggs or worms in two of these cells, while they place before the occupant of the third, the usual food of the young queens, and build out its cell, so as to give it ample space for development. They do not confine themselves to the attempt to rear a single queen, but to guard against failure, start a considerable number, although the work on all except a few, is usually soon discontinued.

In twelve or fourteen days, they are in possession of a new queen, precisely similar to one reared in the natural way, while the eggs which were laid at the same time in the adjoining cells, and which have been developed in the usual way, are nearly a week longer in coming to maturity.

I will give in this connection a description of an interesting experiment:

A large hive which stood at a distance from any other colony, was removed in the morning of a very pleasant day, to a new place, and another hive containing only empty comb, was put upon its stand. Thousands of workers which were out in the fields, or which left the old hive after its removal, returned to the familiar spot. It was affecting to witness their grief and despair: they flew in restless circles about the place which once contained their happy home, entered and left the new hive continually, expressing, in various ways, their lamentations over their cruel bereavement. Towards evening, they ceased to take wing, and roamed in restless platoons, in and out of the hive, and over its surface, acting all the time, as though in search of some lost treasure. I now gave them a piece of brood comb, containing worker eggs and worms, taken from a second swarm which being just established with its young queen, in a new hive, could have no intention of rearing young queens that season; therefore, it cannot be contended that this piece of comb contained what some are pleased to call "royal eggs." What followed the introduction of this brood comb, took place much quicker than it can be described. The bees which first touched it, raised a peculiar note, and in a moment, the comb was covered with a dense mass; their restless motions and mournful noises ceased, and a cheerful hum at once attested their delight! Despair gave place to hope, as they recognized in this small piece of comb, the means of deliverance. Suppose a large building filled with thousands of persons, tearing their hair, beating their breasts, and by piteous cries, as well as frantic gestures, giving vent to their despair; if now some one should enter this house of mourning, and by a single word, cause all these demonstrations of agony to give place to smiles and congratulations, the change could not be more wonderful and instantaneous, than that produced when the bees received the brood comb!

The Orientals call the honey bee, Deburrah, "She that speaketh." Would that this little insect might speak, and in words more eloquent than those of man's device, to the multitudes who allow themselves to reject the doctrines of revealed religion, because, as they assert, they are, on their face so utterly improbable, that they labor under an a priori objection strong enough to be fatal to their credibility. Do not nearly all the steps in the development of a queen from a worker-egg, labor under precisely the same objection? and have they not, for this very reason, always been regarded by great numbers of bee keepers, as unworthy of credence? If the favorite argument of infidels and errorists will not stand the test when applied to the wonders of the bee-hive, can it be regarded as entitled to any serious weight, when employed in framing objections against religious truths, and arrogantly taking to task the infinite Jehovah, for what He has been pleased to do or to teach? Give me the same latitude claimed by such objectors, and I can easily prove that a man is under no obligation to receive any of the wonders in the economy of the bee-hive, although he is himself an intelligent eye-witness that they are all substantial verities.

I shall quote, in this connection, from Huish, an English Apiarian of whom I have already spoken, because his objections to the discoveries of Huber, remind me so forcibly of both the spirit and principles of the great majority of those who object to the doctrines of revealed religion.

"If an individual, with the view of acquiring some knowledge of the natural history of the bee, or of its management, consult the works of Bagster, Bevan, or any of the periodicals which casually treat upon the subject, will he not rise from the study of them with his mind surcharged with falsities and mystification? Will he not discover through the whole of them a servile acquiescence in the opinions and discoveries of one man, however at variance they may be with truth or probability; and if he enter upon the discussion with his mind free from prejudice, will he not experience that an outrage has been committed upon his reason, in calling upon him to give assent to positions and principles which at best are merely assumed, but to which he is called upon dogmatically to subscribe his acquiescence as the indubitable results of experience, skill and ability? The editors of the works above alluded to, should boldly and indignantly have declared, that from their own experience in the natural economy of the insect, they were able to pronounce the circumstances as related by Huber to be directly impossible, and the whole of them based on fiction and imposition."

Let the reader change only a few words in this extract: for "the natural history of the bee or its management," let him write, "the subject of religion;" for, "the works of Bagster, Bevan," &c., let him put, "the works of Moses, Paul," &c.; for, "their own experience in the natural economy of the insect," let him substitute, "their own experience in the nature of man;" and for, "circumstances as related by Huber," let him insert, "as related by Luke or John," and it will sound almost precisely like a passage from some infidel author.

I resume the quotation from Huish; "If we examine the account which Huber gives of his invention (!) of the royal jelly, the existence and efficacy of which are fully acquiesced in by the aforesaid editors, to what other conclusions are we necessarily driven, than that they are the dupes of a visionary enthusiast, whose greatest merit consists in his inventive powers, no matter how destitute those powers may be of all affinity with truth or probability? Before, however, these editors bestowed their unqualified assent on the existence of this royal jelly, did they stop to put to themselves the following questions? By what kind of bee is it made?[9] Whence is it procured? Is it a natural or an elaborated substance? If natural, from what source is it derived? If elaborated, in what stomach of the bee is it to be found? How is it administered? What are its constituent principles? Is its existence optional or definite? Whence does it derive its miraculous power of converting a common egg into a royal one? Will any of the aforesaid editors publicly answer these questions? and ought they not to have been able to answer them, before they so unequivocally expressed their belief in its existence, its powers and administration?"

How puerile does all this sound to one who has seen and tasted the royal jelly! And permit me to add, how equally unmeaning do the objections of infidels seem, to those who have an experimental acquaintance with the divine hopes and consolations of the Gospel of Christ.

CHAPTER IV.
COMB.

Wax is a natural secretion of the bees; it may be called their oil or fat. If they are gorged with honey, or any liquid sweet, and remain quietly clustered together, it is formed in small wax pouches on their abdomen, and comes out in the shape of very delicate scales. Soon after a swarm is hived, the bottom board will be covered with these scales.

"Thus, filtered through yon flutterer's folded mail,
Clings the cooled wax, and hardens to a scale.
Swift, at the well known call, the ready train,
(For not a buz boon Nature breathes in vain,)
Spring to each falling flake, and bear along
Their glossy burdens to the builder throng.
These with sharp sickle or with sharper tooth,
Pare each excrescence, and each angle smooth,
Till now, in finish'd pride, two radiant rows
Of snow white cells one mutual base disclose.
Six shining panels gird each polish'd round,
The door's fine rim, with waxen fillet bound,
While walls so thin, with sister walls combined,
Weak in themselves, a sure dependence find."
Evans.

Huber was the first to demonstrate that wax is a natural secretion of the bee, when fed on honey or any saccharine substance. Most Apiarians before his time, supposed that it was made from pollen or bee-bread, either in a crude or digested state. He confined a new swarm of bees in a hive placed in a dark and cool room, and on examining them, at the end of five days, found several beautiful white combs in their tenement: these were taken from them, and they were again confined and supplied with honey and water, and a second time new combs were constructed. Five times in succession their combs were removed, and were in each instance replaced, the bees being all the time prevented from ranging the fields, to supply themselves with bee-bread. By subsequent experiments he proved that sugar answered the same end with honey.

He then confined a swarm, giving them no honey, but an abundance of fruit and pollen. They subsisted on the fruit, but refused to touch the pollen; and no combs were constructed, nor any wax scales formed in their pouches. These experiments are conclusive; and are interesting, not merely as proving that wax is secreted from honey or saccharine substances, but because they show in what a thorough manner the experiments of Huber were conducted. Confident assertions are easily made, requiring only a little breath or a drop of ink; and the men who deal most in them, have often a profound contempt for observation and experiment. To establish even a simple truth, on the solid foundation of demonstrated facts, often requires the most patient and protracted toil.

A high temperature is necessary for comb-building, in order that the wax may be soft enough to be moulded into shape. The very process of its secretion helps to furnish the amount of heat which is required to work it. This is a very interesting fact which seems never before to have been noticed.

Honey or sugar is found to contain by weight, about eight pounds of oxygen to one of carbon and hydrogen. When changed into wax, the proportions are entirely reversed: the wax contains only one pound of oxygen to more than sixteen pounds of hydrogen and carbon. Now as oxygen is the grand supporter of animal heat, the consumption of so large a quantity of it, aids in producing the extraordinary heat which always accompanies comb-building, and which is necessary to keep the wax in the soft and plastic state requisite to enable the bees to mould it into such exquisitely delicate and beautiful shapes! Who can fail to admire the wisdom of the Creator in this beautiful instance of adaptation?

The most careful experiments have clearly established the fact, that at least twenty pounds of honey are consumed in making a single pound of wax. If any think that this is incredible, let them bear in mind that wax is an animal oil secreted from honey, and let them consider how many pounds of corn or hay they must feed to their stock, in order to have them gain a single pound of fat.

Many Apiarians are entirely ignorant of the great value of empty comb. Suppose the honey to be worth only 15 cts. per lb., and the comb when rendered into wax, to be worth 30 cts. per lb., the bee-master who melts a pound of comb, loses nearly three dollars by the operation, and this, without estimating the time which the bees have consumed in building the comb. Unfortunately, in the ordinary hives, but little use can be made of empty comb, unless it is new, and can be put into the surplus honey-boxes: but by the use of my movable frames, every piece of good worker-comb may be used to the best advantage, as it can be given to the bees, to aid them in their labors.

It has been found very difficult to preserve comb from the bee-moth, when it is taken from the bees. If it contains only a few of the eggs of this destroyer, these, in due time, will produce a progeny sufficient to devour it. The comb, if it is attached to my frames, may be suspended in a box or empty hive, and thoroughly smoked with sulphur; this will kill any worms which it may contain. When the weather is warm enough to hatch the eggs of the moth, this process must be repeated a few times, at intervals of about a week, so as to insure the destruction of the worms as they hatch, for the sulphur does not seem always to destroy the vitality of the eggs. The combs may now be kept in a tight box or hive, with perfect safety.

Combs containing bee-bread, are of great value, and if given to young colonies, which in spring are frequently destitute of this article, they will materially assist them in early breeding.

Honey may be taken from my hives in the frames, and the covers of the cells sliced off with a sharp knife; the honey can then be drained out, and the empty combs returned to be filled again. A strong stock of bees, in the height of the honey harvest, will fill empty combs with wonderful rapidity. I lay it down, as one of my first principles in bee culture, that no good comb should ever be melted; it should all be carefully preserved and given to the bees. If it is new, it may be easily attached to the frames, or the honey-receptacles, by dipping the edge into melted wax, pressing it gently until it stiffens, and then allowing it to cool. If the comb is old, or the pieces large and full of bee-bread, it will be best to dip them into melted rosin, which, besides costing much less than wax, will secure a much firmer adhesion. When comb is put into tumblers or other small vessels, the bees will begin to work upon it the sooner, if it is simply crowded in, so as to be held in place by being supported against the sides. It would seem as though they were disgusted with such unworkmanlike proceedings, and that they cannot rest until they have taken it into hand, and endeavored to "make a job of it."

If the bee-keeper in using his choicest honey will be satisfied to dispense with looks, and will carefully drain it from the beautiful comb, he may use all such comb again to great advantage; not only saving its intrinsic value, but greatly encouraging his bees to occupy and fill all receptacles in which a portion of it is put. Bees seem to fancy a good start in life, about as well as their more intelligent owners. To this use all suitable drone comb should be put, as soon as it is removed from the main hive. (See remarks on Drones.)

Ingenious efforts have been made, of late years, to construct artificial honey combs of porcelain, to be used for feeding bees. No one, to my knowledge, has ever attempted to imitate the delicate mechanism of the bee so closely, as to construct artificial combs for the ordinary uses of the hive; although for a long time I have entertained the idea as very desirable, and yet as barely possible. I am at present engaged in a course of experiments on this subject, the results of which, in due time, I shall communicate to the public.

While writing this treatise, it has occurred to me that bees might be induced to use old wax for the construction of their combs. Very fine parings may be shaved off with glass, and if given to the bees, under favorable circumstances, it seems to me very probable that they would use them, just as they do the scales which are formed in their wax pouches. Let strong colonies be deprived of some of their combs, after the honey harvest is over, and supplied abundantly with these parings of wax. Whether "nature abhors a vacuum," or not, bees certainly do, when it occurs among the combs of their main hive. They will not use the honey stored up for winter use to replace the combs taken from them; they can gather none from the flowers; and I have strong hopes that necessity will with bees as well as men, prove the mother of invention, and lead them to use the wax, as readily as they do the substitutes offered them for pollen. (See Chapter on [Pollen].)

If this conjecture should be verified by actual results, it would exert a most powerful influence in the cheap and rapid multiplication of colonies, and would enable the bees to store up most prodigious quantities of honey. A pound of bees wax might then be made to store up twenty pounds of honey, and the gain to the bee keeper would be the difference in price between the pound of wax, and the twenty pounds of honey, which the bees would have consumed in making the same amount of comb. Strong stocks might thus during the dull season, when no honey can be procured, be most profitably employed in building spare comb, to be used in strengthening feeble stocks, and for a great variety of purposes. Give me the means of cheaply obtaining large amounts of comb, and I have almost found the philosopher's stone in bee keeping.

The building of comb is carried on with the greatest activity in the night, while the honey is gathered by day. Thus no time is lost. If the weather is too forbidding to allow the bees to go abroad, the combs are very rapidly constructed, as the labor is carried on both by day and by night. On the return of a fair day, the bees gather unusual quantities of honey, as they have plenty of room for its storage. Thus it often happens, that by their wise economy of time, they actually lose nothing, even if confined, for several days, to their hive.

"How doth the little busy bee, improve each shining hour!"

The poet might with equal truth have described her, as improving the gloomy days, and the dark nights, in her useful labors.

It is an interesting fact, which I do not remember ever to have seen particularly noticed by any writer, that honey gathering, and comb building, go on simultaneously; so that when one stops, the other ceases also. I have repeatedly observed, that as soon as the honey harvest fails, the bees intermit their labors in building new comb, even when large portions of their hive are unfilled. They might enlarge their combs by using some of their stores; but then they would incur the risk of perishing in the winter, by starvation. When honey no longer abounds in the fields, it is wisely ordered, that they should not consume their hoarded treasures, in expectation of further supplies, which may never come. I do not believe, that any other safe rule could have been given them; and if honey gathering was our business, with all our boasted reason, we should be obliged to adopt the very same course.

Wax is one of the best non-conductors of heat, so that when it is warmed by the animal heat of the bees, it can more easily be worked, than if it parted with its heat too readily. By this property, the combs serve also to keep the bees warm, and there is not so much risk of the honey candying in the cells, or the combs cracking with frost. If wax was a good conductor of heat, the combs would often be icy cold, moisture would condense and freeze upon them, and they would fail to answer the ends for which they are intended.

The size of the cells, in which workers are reared, never varies: the same may substantially be said of the drone cells which are very considerably larger; the cells in which honey is stored, often vary exceedingly in depth, while in diameter, they are of all sizes from that of the worker cells to that of the drones.

The cells of the bees are found perfectly to answer all the most refined conditions of a very intricate mathematical problem! Let it be required to find what shape a given quantity of matter must take, in order to have the greatest capacity, and the greatest strength, requiring at the same time, the least space, and the least labor in its construction. This problem has been solved by the most refined processes of the higher mathematics, and the result is the hexagonal or six-sided cell of the honey bee, with its three four-sided figures at the base!

The shape of these figures cannot be altered, ever so little, except for the worse. Besides possessing the desirable qualities already described, they answer as nurseries for the rearing of the young, and as small air-tight vessels in which the honey is preserved from souring or candying. Every prudent housewife who puts up her preserves in tumblers, or small glass jars, and carefully pastes them over, to keep out the air, will understand the value of such an arrangement.

"There are only three possible figures of the cells," says Dr. Reid, "which can make them all equal and similar, without any useless spaces between them. These are the equilateral triangle, the square and the regular hexagon. It is well known to mathematicians that there is not a fourth way possible, in which a plane may be cut into little spaces that shall be equal, similar and regular, without leaving any interstices."

An equilateral triangle would have made an uncomfortable tenement for an insect with a round body; and a square would not have been much better. At first sight a circle would seem to be the best shape for the development of the larvæ: but such a figure would have caused a needless sacrifice of space, materials and strength; while the honey which now adheres so admirably to the many angles or corners of the six-sided cell, would have been much more liable to run out! I will venture to assign a new reason for the hexagonal form. The body of the immature insect as it undergoes its changes, is charged with a super-abundance of moisture which passes off through the reticulated cover which the bees build over its cell: a hexagon while it approaches so nearly the shape of a circle as not to incommode the young bee, furnishes in its six corners the necessary vacancies for its more thorough ventilation!

So invariably uniform in size, as well as perfect in other respects, are the cells in which the workers are bred, that some mathematicians have proposed their adoption, as the best unit for measures of capacity to serve for universal use.

Can we believe that these little insects unite so many requisites in the construction of their cells, either by chance, or because they are profoundly versed in the most intricate mathematics? Are we not compelled to acknowledge that the mathematics must be referred to the Creator, and not to His puny creature? To an intelligent, candid mind, a piece of honey comb is a complete demonstration that there is a "GREAT FIRST CAUSE:" for on no other supposition can we account for so complicated a shape, and yet the only one which can possibly unite so many desirable requisites.

"On books deep poring, ye pale sons of toil,
Who waste in studious trance the midnight oil,
Say, can ye emulate with all your rules,
Drawn or from Grecian or from Gothic schools,
This artless frame? Instinct her simple guide,
A heaven-taught Insect baffles all your pride.
Not all yon marshall'd orbs, that ride so high,
Proclaim more loud a present Deity,
Than the nice symmetry of these small cells,
Where on each angle genuine science dwells."
Evans.

CHAPTER V.
PROPOLIS, OR "BEE-GLUE."

This substance is obtained by the bees from the resinous buds and limbs of trees; and when first gathered, it is usually of a bright golden color, and is exceedingly sticky. The different kinds of poplars furnish a rich supply. The bees bring it on their thighs just as they do bee bread; and I have caught them as they were entering with a load, and taken it from them. It adheres so firmly that it is difficult to remove it.

"Huber planted in Spring some branches of the wild poplar, before the leaves were developed, and placed them in pots near his Apiary; the bees alighting on them, separated the folds of the largest buds with their forceps, extracted the varnish in threads, and loaded with it, first one thigh and then the other; for they convey it like pollen, transferring it by the first pair of legs to the second, by which it is lodged in the hollow of the third." The smell of the propolis is often precisely similar to that of the resin from the poplar, and chemical analysis proves the identity of the two substances. It is frequently gathered from the alder, horse-chestnut, birch, and willow; and as some think, from pines and other trees of the fir kind. I have often known bees to enter the shops where varnishing was being carried on, attracted evidently by the smell: and Bevan mentions the fact of their carrying off a composition of wax and turpentine, from trees to which it had been applied. Dr. Evans says that he has seen them collect the balsamic varnish which coats the young blossom buds of the hollyhock, and has known them to rest at least ten minutes on the same bud, moulding the balsam with their fore feet, and transferring it to the hinder legs, as described by Huber.

"With merry hum the Willow's copse they scale,
The Fir's dark pyramid, or Poplar pale,
Scoop from the Aider's leaf its oozy flood,
Or strip the Chestnut's resin-coated bud,
Skim the light tear that tips Narcissus' ray,
Or round the Hollyhock's hoar fragrance play.
Soon temper'd to their will through eve's low beam,
And link'd in airy bands the viscous stream,
They waft their nut-brown loads exulting home,
That form a fret-work for the future comb;
Caulk every chink where rushing winds may roar,
And seal their circling ramparts to the floor."
Evans.

A mixture of wax and propolis is used by the bees to strengthen the attachments of the combs to the top and sides of the hive, and serves most admirably for this purpose, as it is much more adhesive than wax alone. If the combs, as soon as they are built, are not filled with honey or brood, they are beautifully varnished with a most delicate coating of this material, which adds exceedingly to their strength: but as this natural varnish impairs their delicate whiteness, they ought not to be allowed to remain in the surplus honey receptacles, accessible to the bees, unless when they are actively engaged in storing them with honey.

The bees make a very liberal use of this substance to fill up all the crevices about their premises: and as the natural summer heat of the hive keeps it soft, the bee moth selects it as a proper place of deposit for her eggs. For this reason, the hive should be made of sound lumber, entirely free from cracks, and thoroughly painted on the inside as well as outside. When glass is used, there is no risk that the bed moth will find a place in which she can insert her ovi-positor and lay her eggs. The corners of the hive, which the bees always fill with propolis, should have a melted mixture of three parts rosin, and one part bees-wax run into them, which remains hard during the hottest weather, and bids defiance to the moth. The inside of the hive may be coated with the same mixture, put on hot with a brush.

The bees find it difficult to gather the propolis, and equally so to remove from their thighs, and to work so sticky a material. For this reason, it is doubly important to save them all unnecessary labor in amassing it. To men, time is money; to bees, it is honey; and all the arrangements of the hive should be such as to economize it to the very utmost.

Propolis is sometimes put to a very curious use by the bees. "A snail[10] having crept into one of M. Reaumur's hives early in the morning, after crawling about for some time, adhered by means of its own slime to one of the glass panes. The bees having discovered the snail, surrounded it and formed a border of propolis round the verge of its shell, and fastened it so securely to the glass that it became immovable."

"Forever closed the impenetrable door,
It naught avails that in his torpid veins
Year after year, life's loitering spark remains."[11]
Evans.

"Maraldi, another eminent Apiarian, has related a somewhat similar instance. He states that a snail without a shell, or slug, as it is called, had entered one of his hives; and that the bees, as soon as they observed it, stung it to death: after which being unable to dislodge it, they covered it all over with an impervious coat of propolis."

"For soon in fearless ire, their wonder lost,
Spring fiercely from the comb the indignant host,
Lay the pierced monster breathless on the ground,
And clap in joy their victor pinions round:
While all in vain concurrent numbers strive,
To heave the slime-girt giant from the hive—
Sure not alone by force Instinctive swayed,
But blest with reason's soul directing aid,
Alike in man or bee, they haste to pour,
Thick hard'ning as it falls, the flaky shower;
Embalmed in shroud of glue the mummy lies,
No worms invade, no foul miasmas rise."
Evans.

"In these cases who can withhold his admiration of the ingenuity and judgment of the bees? In the first case a troublesome creature gained admission to the hive, which, from its unwieldiness, they could not remove, and which, from the impenetrability of its shell, they could not destroy: here then their only resource was to deprive it of locomotion, and to obviate putrefaction; both which objects they accomplished most skilfully and securely—and as is usual with these sagacious creatures, at the least possible expense of labor and materials. They applied their cement where alone it was required, round the verge of the shell. In the latter case, to obviate the evil of decay, by the total exclusion of air, they were obliged to be more lavish in the use of their embalming material, and to case over the "slime girt giant" so as to guard themselves from his noisome smell. What means more effectual could human wisdom have devised under similar circumstances?"

"If in the insect, Season's twilight ray
Sheds on the darkling mind a doubtful day,
Plain is the steady light her Instincts yield,
To point the road o'er life's unvaried field;
If few these instincts, to the destined goal,
With surer coarse, their straiten'd currents roll."
Evans.

CHAPTER VI.
POLLEN, OR BEE-BREAD.

This substance is gathered by the bees from the flowers, or blossoms, and is used for the nourishment of their young. Repeated experiments have proved that no brood can be raised in a hive, unless the bees are supplied with it. It contains none of the elements of wax, but is rich in what chemists call nitrogenous substances, which are not contained in honey, and which furnish ample nourishment for the development of the growing bee. Dr. Hunter dissected some immature bees, and found their stomachs to contain farina, but not a particle of honey.

We are indebted to Huber for the discovery of the use made by the bees of pollen. That it did not serve as food for the mature bees, was evident from the fact that large supplies are often found in hives whose inmates have starved to death. It was this fact which led the old observers to conclude that it was gathered for the purpose of building comb. After Huber had demonstrated that wax is secreted from an entirely different substance, he was soon led to conjecture that the bee-bread must be used for the nourishment of the embryo bees. By rigid experiments he proved the truth of this supposition. Bees were confined to their hive without any pollen, after being supplied with honey, eggs and larvæ. In a short time the young all perished. A fresh supply of brood was given to them, with an ample allowance of pollen, and the development of the larvæ then proceeded in the natural way.

When a colony is actively engaged in carrying in this article, it may be taken for granted that they have a fertile queen, and are busy in breeding. On the contrary, if any colony is not gathering pollen when others are, the queen is either dead, or diseased, and the hive should at once be examined.

In the backward spring of 1852, I had an excellent opportunity of testing the value of this substance. In one of my hives, was an artificial swarm of the previous year. The hive was well protected, being double, and the situation was warm. I opened it on the 5th of February, and although the weather, until within a week of that time, had been unusually cold, I found many of the cells filled with brood. On the 23d, the combs were again examined, and found to contain, neither eggs, brood, nor bee bread. The bees were then supplied with bee bread taken from another hive: the next day, this was found to have been used by them, and a large number of eggs had been deposited in the cells. When this supply was exhausted, egg-laying ceased, and was again renewed when more was furnished them.

During all the time of these experiments, the weather was unpromising, and as the bees were unable to go out for water, they were supplied at home with this important article.

Dzierzon is of opinion that the bees are able to furnish food for the young, without the presence of pollen in the hive; although he admits that they can do this only for a short time, and at a great expense of vital energy; just as the strength of an animal nursing its young is rapidly reduced, when for want of proper food, the very substance of its own body as it were, is converted into milk. My experiments do not corroborate this theory, but tend to confirm the views of Huber, and to show the absolute necessity of pollen to the development of brood. The same able contributor to Apiarian science, thinks that pollen is used by the bees when they are engaged in comb-building; and that unless they are well supplied with it, they cannot rapidly secrete wax, without very severely taxing their strength. But as all the elements of wax are found in honey, and none of them in pollen, this opinion does not seem to me, to be entitled to much weight. That bees cannot live upon pollen without any honey, is proved by the fact, that large stores of it are often found, in hives whose occupants have died of starvation; that they can live without it, is equally well known; but that the full grown bees make some use of it in connection with honey, for their own nourishment, I believe to be highly probable.

The bees prefer to gather fresh bee-bread, even when there are large accumulations of old stores in the cells. Hence, the great importance of being able to make the surplus of old colonies supply the deficiency of young ones. (See No. 28, in the Chapter "[On the advantages which ought to be found in an Improved Hive.]")

If both honey and pollen can be obtained from the same flower, then a load of each will be secured by the industrious insect. Of this, any one may convince himself, who will dissect a few pollen gatherers at the time when honey is plenty: he will generally find their honey-bags full.

The mode of gathering is very interesting. The body of the bee appears, to the naked eye, to be covered with fine hairs; to these, when the bee alights on a flower, the farina adheres. With her legs, she brushes it off from her body, and packs it in two hollows or baskets, one on each of her thighs: these baskets are surrounded by stouter hairs which hold the load in its place.

When the bee returns with pollen, she often makes a singular, dancing or vibratory motion, which attracts the attention of the other bees, who at once nibble away from her thighs what they want for immediate use; the rest she deposits in a cell for future need, where it is carefully packed down, and often sealed over with wax.

It has been observed that a bee, in gathering pollen, always confines herself to the same kind of flower on which she begins, even when that is not so abundant as some others. Thus if you examine a ball of this substance taken from her thigh, it is found to be of one uniform color throughout: the load of one will be yellow, another red, and a third brown; the color varying according to that of the plant from which it was obtained. It is probable that the pollen of different kinds of flowers would not pack so well together. It is certain that if they flew from one species to another, there would be a much greater mixture of different varieties than there now is, for they carry on their bodies the pollen or fertilizing principle, and thus aid most powerfully in the impregnation of plants.

This is one reason why it is so difficult to preserve pure, the different varieties of the same vegetables whose flowers are sought by the bee.

He must be blind indeed, who will not see, at every step in the natural history of this insect, the plainest proofs of the wisdom of its Creator.

I cannot resist the impression that the honey bee was made for the especial service and instruction of man. At first the importance of its products, when honey was the only natural sweet, served most powerfully to attract his attention to its curious habits; and now since the cultivation of the sugar cane has diminished the relative value of its luscious sweets, the superior knowledge which has been obtained of its instincts, is awakening an increasing enthusiasm in its cultivation.

Virgil in the fourth book of his Georgics, which is entirely devoted to bees, speaks of them as having received a direct emanation from the Divine Intelligence. And many modern Apiarians are almost disposed to rank the bee for sagacity, as next in the scale of creation to man.

The importance of pollen to the nourishment of the brood, has long been known, and of late, successful attempts have been made to furnish a substitute. The bees in Dzierzon's Apiary were observed by him, early in the spring before the time for procuring pollen, to bring rye meal to their hives from a neighboring mill. It is now a common practice on the continent of Europe, where bee keeping is extensively carried on, to supply the bees, in early spring, with this article. Shallow troughs are set in front of the Apiaries, which are filled, about two inches deep, with finely ground, dry, unbolted rye meal. Thousands of bees resort eagerly to them when the weather is favorable, roll themselves in the meal, and return heavily laden to their hives. In fine, mild weather, they labor at this work with astonishing industry; and seem decidedly to prefer the meal to the old pollen stored in their combs. By this means, the bees are induced to commence breeding early, and rapidly recruit their numbers. The feeding is continued till the bees cease to carry away the meal; that is, until the natural supplies furnish them with a preferable article. The average consumption of each colony is about two pounds of meal!

At the last annual Apiarian Convention in Germany, a cultivator recommended wheat flour as an excellent substitute for pollen. He says that in February, 1852, he used it with the best results. The bees forsook the honey which had been set out for them, and engaged actively in carrying in large quantities of the wheat flour, which was placed about twenty paces in front of the hives.

The construction of my hives, permits the flour to be placed, at once, where the bees can take it, without being compelled to waste their time in going out for it, or to suffer for the want of it, when the weather confines them at home.

The discovery of this substitute, removes a serious obstacle to the successful culture of bees. In many districts, there is a great abundance of honey for a few weeks in the season; and almost any number of colonies, which are strong when the honey harvest commences, will, in a good season, lay up sufficient stores for themselves, and a large surplus for their owners. In many of these districts, however, the supply of pollen is often so insufficient, that the new colonies of the previous year are found destitute of this article in the spring; and unless the season is early, and the weather unusually favorable, the production of brood is most seriously interfered with; thus the colony becomes strong too late to avail itself to the best advantage of the superabundant harvest of honey. (See remarks on the importance of having strong stocks early in the Spring.)

CHAPTER VII.
ON THE ADVANTAGES WHICH OUGHT TO BE FOUND IN AN IMPROVED HIVE.

In this chapter, I shall enumerate certain very desirable, if not necessary, qualities of a good hive. I have neither the taste nor the time for the invidious work of disparaging other hives. I prefer inviting the attention of bee-keepers to the importance of these requisites; some of which, as I believe, are contained in no hive but my own. Let them be most carefully examined, and if they commend themselves to the enlightened judgment and good common sense of cultivators, let them be employed to test the comparative merits of the various kinds of hives in common use.

1. A good hive should give the Apiarian a perfect control over all the combs: so that any of them may be taken out at pleasure; and this, without cutting them, or enraging the bees.

This advantage is possessed by no hive in use, except my own; and it forms the very foundation of an improved and profitable system of bee-culture. Unless the combs are at the entire command of the Apiarian, he can have no effectual control over his bees. They swarm too much or too little, just as suits themselves, and their owner is almost entirely dependent upon their caprice.

2. It ought to afford suitable protection against extremes of heat and cold, sudden changes of temperature, and the injurious effects of dampness.

In winter, the interior of the hive should be dry, and not a particle of frost should ever find admission; and in summer, the bees should not be forced to work to disadvantage in a pent and almost suffocating heat. (See these points discussed in the Chapter on [Protection].)

3. It should permit all necessary operations to be performed without hurting or killing a single bee.

Most hives are so constructed that it is impossible to manage them, without at times injuring or destroying some of the bees. The mere destruction of a few bees, would not, except on the score of humanity, be of much consequence, if it did not very materially increase the difficulty of managing them. Bees remember injuries done to any of their number, for some time, and generally find an opportunity to avenge them.

4. It should allow every thing to be done that is necessary in the most extensive management of bees, without incurring any serious risk of exciting their anger. (See Chapter on the [Anger of Bees].)

5. Not a single unnecessary step or motion ought to be required of a single bee.

The honey harvest, in most locations, is of short continuance; and all the arrangements of the hive should facilitate, to the utmost, the work of the busy gatherers. Tall hives, therefore, and all such as compel them to travel with their heavy burdens through densely crowded combs, are very objectionable. The bees in my hive, instead of forcing their way through thick clusters, can easily pass into the surplus honey boxes, not only from any comb in the hive, but without traveling over the combs at all.

6. It should afford suitable facilities for inspecting, at all times, the condition of the bees.

When the sides of my hive are of glass, as soon as the outer cover is elevated, the Apiarian has a view of the interior, and can often at a glance, determine its condition. If the hive is of wood, or if he wishes to make a more thorough examination, in a few minutes every comb may be taken out, and separately inspected. In this way, the exact condition of every colony may always be easily ascertained, and nothing left, as in the common hives, to mere conjecture. This is an advantage, the importance of which it would be difficult to over estimate. (See Chapters on the [loss of the queen], and on the [Bee Moth].)

7. While the hive is of a size adapted to the natural instincts of the bee, it should be capable of being readily adjusted to the wants of small colonies.

If a small swarm is put into a large hive, they will be unable to concentrate their animal heat, so as to work to the best advantage, and will often become discouraged, and abandon their hive. If they are put into a small hive, its limited dimensions will not afford them suitable accommodations for increase. By means of my movable partition, my hive can, in a few moments, be adapted to the wants of any colony however small, and can, with equal facility, be enlarged from time to time, or at once restored to its full dimensions.

8. It should allow the combs to be removed without any jarring.

Bees manifest the utmost aversion to any sudden jar; for it is in this way, that their combs are loosened and detached. However firmly fastened the frames may be in my hive, they can all be loosened in a few moments, without injuring or exciting the bees.

9. It should allow every good piece of comb to be given to the bees, instead of being melted into wax. (See Chapter on [Comb].)

10. The construction of the hive should induce the bees to build their combs with great regularity.

A hive which contains a large proportion of irregular comb, can never be expected to prosper. Such comb is only suitable for storing honey, or raising drones. This is one reason why so many colonies never flourish. A glance will often show that a hive contains so much drone comb, as to be unfit for the purposes of a stock hive.

11. It should furnish the means of procuring comb to be used as a guide to the bees, in building regular combs in empty hives; and to induce them more readily to take possession of the surplus honey receptacles.

It is well known that the presence of comb will induce bees to begin work much more readily than they otherwise Would: this is especially the case in glass vessels.

12. It should allow the removal of drone combs from the hive, to prevent the breeding of too many drones. (See remarks on Drones.)

13. It should enable the Apiarian, when the combs become too old, to remove them, and supply their place with new ones.

No hive can, in this respect, equal one in which, in a few moments, any comb can be removed, and the part which is too old, be cut off. The upper part of a comb, which is generally used for storing honey, will last without renewal for many years.

14. It ought to furnish the greatest possible security against the ravages of the Bee-Moth.

Neither before nor after it is occupied, ought there to be any cracks or crevices in the interior. All such places will be filled by the bees with propolis or bee-glue; a substance, which is always soft in the summer heat of the hive, and which forms a most congenial place of deposit for the eggs of the moth. If the sides of the hive are of glass, and the corners are run with a melted mixture, three parts rosin, and one part bees-wax, the bees will waste but little time in gathering propolis, and the bee-moth will find but little chance for laying her eggs, even if she should succeed in entering the hive.

My hives are so constructed, that if made of wood, they may be thoroughly painted inside and outside, without being so smooth as to annoy the bees; for they travel over the frames to which the combs are attached; and thus whether the inside surface is glass or wood, it is not liable to crack, or warp, or absorb moisture, after the hive is occupied by the bees. If the hives are painted inside, it should be done sometime before they are used. If the interior of the wooden hive is brushed with a very hot mixture of the rosin and bees-wax, the hives may be used immediately.

15. It should furnish some place accessible to the Apiarian, where the bee-moth can be tempted to deposit her eggs, and the worms, when full grown, to wind themselves in their cocoons. (See remarks on the [Bee-Moth].)

16. It should enable the Apiarian, if the bee-moth ever gains the upper hand of the bees, to remove the combs, and expel the worms. (See [Bee-Moth].)

17. The bottom board should be permanently attached to the hive; for if this is not done, it will be inconvenient to move the hive when bees are in it, and next to impossible to prevent the depredations of moths and worms.

Sooner or later, there will be crevices between the bottom board and the sides of the hive, through which the moths will gain admission, and under which the worms, when fully grown, will retreat to spin their webs, and to be changed into moths, to enter in their turn, and lay their eggs. Movable bottom hoards are a great nuisance in the Apiary, and the construction of my hive, which enables me entirely to dispense with them, will furnish a very great protection against the bee-moth. There is no place where they can get in, except at the entrance for the bees, and this may be contracted or enlarged, to suit the strength of the colony; and from its peculiar shape, the bees are enabled to defend it against intruders, with the greatest advantage.

18. The bottom-board should slant towards the entrance, to assist the bees in carrying out the dead, and other useless substances; to aid them in defending themselves against robbers; to carry off all moisture; and to prevent the rain and snow from beating into the hive. As a farther precaution against this last evil, the entrance ought to be under a covered way, which should not, at once lead into the interior.

19. The bottom-board should be so constructed that it may be readily cleared of dead bees in cold weather, when the bees are unable to attend to this business themselves.

If suffered to remain, they often become mouldy, and injure the health of the colony. If the bees drag them out, as they will do, if the weather moderates, they often fall with them on the snow, and are so chilled that they never rise again; for a bee generally retains its hold in flying away with the dead, until both fall to the ground.

20. No part of the interior of the hive should be below the level of the place of exit.

If this principle is violated, the bees must, at great disadvantage, drag their dead, and all the refuse of the hive, up hill. Such hives will often have their bottom boards covered with small pieces of comb, bee-bread, and other impurities, in which the moth delights to lay her eggs; and which furnished her progeny with a most congenial nourishment, until they are able to get access to the combs.

21. It should afford facilities for feeding the bees both in warm and cold weather.

In this respect, my hive has very unusual advantages. Sixty colonies in warm weather may, in an hour, be fed a quart each, and yet no feeder be used, and no risk incurred from robbing bees. (See Chapter on [Feeding].)

22. It should allow of the easy hiving of a swarm, without injuring any of the bees, or risking the destruction of the queen. (See Chapter on [Natural Swarming, and Hiving].)

23. It should admit of the safe transportation of the bees to any distance whatever.

The permanent bottom-board, the firm attachment of the combs, each to a separate frame, and the facility with which, in my hive, any amount of air can be given to the bees when shut up, most admirably adapt it to this purpose.

24. It should furnish the bees with air when the entrance is shut; and the ventilation for this purpose ought to be unobstructed, even if the hives should be buried in two or three feet of snow. (See Chapter on [Protection].)

25. A good hive should furnish facilities for enlarging, contracting, and closing the entrance; so as to protect the bees against robbers, and the bee-moth; and when the entrance is altered, the bees ought not to lose valuable time in searching for it, as they must do in most hives. (See Chapters on [Ventilation], and on [Robbing].)

26. It should give the bees the means of ventilating their hives, without enlarging the entrance too much, so as to expose them to moths and robbers, and to the risk of losing their brood by a chill in sudden changes of weather. (See Chapter on [Ventilation].)

To secure this end, the ventilators must not only be independent of the entrance, but they must owe their efficiency mainly to the co-operation of the bees themselves, who thus have a free admission of air only when they want it. To depend on the opening and shutting of the ventilators by the bee-keeper, is entirely out of the question.

27. It should furnish facilities for admitting at once, a large body of air; so that in winter, or early spring, when the weather is at any time unusually mild, the bees may be tempted to fly out and discharge their fæces. (See Chapter on [Protection].)

If such a free admission of air cannot be given to hives which are thoroughly protected against the cold, the bees may lose a favorable opportunity of emptying themselves; and thus be more exposed than they otherwise would, to suffer from diseases resulting from too long confinement. A very free admission of air is also desirable when the weather is exceedingly hot.

28. It should enable the Apiarian to remove the excess of bee-bread from old stocks.

This article always accumulates in old hives, so that in the course of time, many of the combs are filled with it, thus unfitting them for the rearing of brood, and the reception of honey. Young stocks, on the other hand, will often be so deficient in this important article, that in the early part of the season, breeding will be seriously interfered with. By means of my movable frames, the excess of old colonies may be made to supply the deficiency of young ones, to the mutual benefit of both. (See Chapter on [Pollen].)

29. It should enable the Apiarian, when he has removed the combs from a common hive, to place them with the bees, brood, honey and bee-bread, in the improved hive, so that the bees may be able to attach them in their natural positions. (See directions for transferring bees from an old hive.)

30. It should allow of the easy and safe dislodgement of the bees from the hive.

This requisite is especially important to secure the union of colonies, when it becomes necessary to break up some of the stocks. (See remarks on the Union of Stocks.)

31. It should allow the heat and odor of the main hive, as well as the bees themselves, to pass in the freest manner, to the surplus honey receptacles.

In this respect, all the hives with which I am acquainted, are more or less deficient: the bees are forced to work in receptacles difficult of access, and in which, especially in cool nights, they find it impossible to keep up the animal heat necessary for comb-building. Bees cannot, in such hives, work to advantage in glass tumblers, or other small vessels. One of the most important arrangements of my hive, is that by which the heat ascends into all the receptacles for storing honey, as naturally and almost as easily as the warmest air ascends to the top of a heated room.

32. It should permit the surplus honey to be taken away, in the most convenient, beautiful and salable forms, at any time, and without any risk of annoyance from the bees.

In my hives, it may be taken in tumblers, glass boxes, wooden boxes small or large, earthen jars, flower-pots; in short, in any kind of receptacle which may suit the fancy, or the convenience of the bee-keeper. Or all these may be dispensed with, and the honey may be taken from the interior of the main hive, by removing the frames with loaded combs, and supplying their place with empty ones.

33. It should admit of the easy removal of all the good honey from the main hive, that its place may be supplied with an inferior article.

Bee-Keepers who have but few colonies, and who wish to secure the largest yield, may remove the loaded combs from my hive, slice off the covers of the cells, drain out the honey, and restore the empty combs, into which, if the season of gathering is over, they can first pour the cheap foreign honey for the use of the bees.

34. It should allow, when quantity not quality is the object, the largest amount of honey to be gathered; so that the surplus of strong colonies may, in the Fall, be given to those which have not a sufficient supply.

By surmounting my hive with a box of the same dimensions, the combs may all be transferred to this box, and the bees, when they commence building, will descend and fill the lower frames, gradually using the upper box, as the brood is hatched out, for storing honey. In this way, the largest possible yield of honey may be secured, as the bees always prefer to continue their work below, rather than above the main hive, and will never swarm, when allowed in season, ample room in this direction. The combs in the upper box, containing a large amount of bee-bread and being of a size adapted to the breeding of workers, will be all the better for aiding weak colonies.

35. It should compel, when desired, the force of the colony to be mainly directed to raising young bees; so that brood may be on hand to form new colonies, and strengthen feeble stocks. (See Chapter on [Artificial Swarming].)

36. It ought, while well protected from the weather, to be so constructed, that in warm, sunny days in early spring, the influence of the sun may be allowed to penetrate and warm up the hive, so as to encourage early breeding. (See Chapter on [Protection].)

37. The hive should be equally well adapted to be used as a swarmer, or non-swarmer.

In my hives bees may be allowed, if their owner chooses, to swarm just as they do in common hives, and be managed in the usual way. Even on this plan, the great protection against the weather which it affords, and the command over all the combs, will be found to afford great advantages. (See [Natural Swarming].)

Non-swarming hives managed in the ordinary way are liable, in spite of all precautions, to swarm very unexpectedly, and if not closely watched, the swarm is lost, and with it the profit of that season. By having the command of the combs, the queen in my hives can always be caught and deprived of her wings; thus she cannot go off with a swarm, and they will not leave without her.

38. It should enable the Apiarian, if he allows his bees to swarm, and wishes to secure surplus honey, to prevent them from throwing more than one swarm in a season.

Second and third swarms must be returned to the old stock, if the largest quantities of surplus honey are to be realized. It is troublesome to watch them, deprive them of their queens, and restore them to the parent hive. They often issue with new queens again and again; and waste, in this way, both their own time, and that of their keeper. "An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure." In my hives, as soon as the first swarm has issued, and been hived, all the queen cells except one, in the hive from which it came, may be cut out, and thus all after-swarming will very easily and effectually be prevented. (See Chapter on [Artificial Swarming], for the use to which these supernumerary queens may be put.) When the old stock is left with but one queen, she runs no risk of being killed or crippled in a contest with rivals. By such contests, a colony is often left without a queen, or in possession of one which is too much maimed to be of any service. (See Chapter on the [Loss of the Queen].)

39. A good hive should enable the Apiarian, if he relies on natural swarming, and wishes to multiply his colonies as fast as possible, to make vigorous stocks of all his small after-swarms.

Such swarms contain a young queen, and if they can be judiciously strengthened, usually make the best stock hives. If hived in a common hive, and left to themselves, unless very early, or in very favorable seasons, they seldom thrive. They generally desert their hives, or perish in the winter. If they are small, they cannot be made powerful, even by the most generous feeding. There are too few bees to build comb, and take care of the eggs which a healthy queen can lay; and when fed, they are apt to fill with honey, the cells in which young bees ought to be raised; thus making the kindness of their owner serve only to hasten their destruction. My hives enable me to supply all such swarms at once with combs containing bee-bread, honey and brood almost mature. They are thus made strong, and flourish as well, nay, often better than the first swarms which have an old queen, whose fertility is generally not so great as that of a young one.

40. It should enable the Apiarian to multiply his colonies with a certainty and rapidity which are entirely out of the question, if he depends upon natural swarming. (See Chapter on [Artificial Swarming].)

41. It should enable the Apiarian to supply destitute colonies with the means of obtaining a new queen.

Every Apiarian would find it, for this reason, if for no other, to his advantage to possess, at least, one such hive. (See Chapters on [Physiology], and [loss of Queen].)

42. It should enable him to catch the queen, for any purpose; especially to remove an old one whose fertility is impaired by age, that her place may be supplied with a young one. (See Chapter on [Artificial Swarming].)

43. While a good hive is adapted to the wants of those who desire to enter upon bee-keeping on a large scale, or at least to manage their colonies on the most improved plans, it ought to be suited to the wants of those who are too timid, too ignorant, or for any reason indisposed, to manage them in any other than the common way.

44. It should enable a single individual to superintend the colonies of many different persons.

Many would like to keep bees, if they could have them taken care of, by those who would undertake their management, just as a gardener does the gardens and grounds of his employers. No person can agree to do this with the common hives. If the bees are allowed to swarm, he may be called in a dozen different directions, and if any accident, such as the loss of a queen, happens to the colonies of his customers, he can apply no remedy. If the bees are in non-swarming hives, he cannot multiply the stocks when this is desired.

On my plan, gentlemen who desire it, may have the pleasure of witnessing the industry and sagacity of this wonderful insect, and of gratifying their palates with its delicious stores, harvested on their own premises, without incurring either trouble or risk of injury.

45. All the joints of the hive should be water-tight, and there should be no doors or slides which are liable to shrink, swell, or get out of order.

The importance of this will be sufficiently obvious to any one who has had the ordinary share of vexatious experience in the use of such fixtures.

46. It should enable the bee-keeper entirely to dispense with sheds, and costly Apiaries; as each hive when properly placed, should alike defy, heat or cold, rain or snow. (See Chapter on [Protection].)

47. It should allow the contents of a hive, bees, combs and all, to be taken out; so that any necessary repairs may be made.

This may be done, with my hives, in a few minutes. "A stitch in time saves nine." Hives which can be thoroughly overhauled and repaired, from time to time, if properly attended to, will last for generations.

48. The hive and fixtures should present a neat and attractive appearance, and should admit, when desired, of being made highly ornamental.

49. The hives ought not to be liable to be blown down in high winds.

My hives, being very low in proportion to their other dimensions, it would require almost a hurricane to upset them.

50. It should enable an Apiarian who lives in the neighborhood of human pilferers, to lock up the precious contents of his hives, in some cheap, simple and convenient way.

A couple of padlocks with some cheap fixtures, will suffice to secure a long range of hives.

51. A good hive should be protected against the destructive ravages of mice in winter.

It seems almost incredible that so puny an animal should dare to invade a hive of bees; and yet not unfrequently they slip in when the bees are compelled by the cold to retreat from the entrance. Having once found admission, they build themselves a nest in their comfortable abode, eat up the honey, and such bees as are too much chilled to make any resistance; and fill the premises with such an abominable stench, that on the approach of warm weather, the bees often in a body abandon their desecrated home. As soon as the cold weather approaches, all my hives may have their entrances either entirely closed, or so contracted that a mouse cannot gain admission.

52. A good hive should have its alighting board constructed so as to shelter the bees against wind and wet, and thus to facilitate to the utmost their entrance when they come home with their heavy burdens.

If this precaution is neglected, much valuable time and many lives will be sacrificed, as the colony cannot be encouraged to use to the best advantage the unpromising days which so often occur in the working season.

I have succeeded in arranging my alighting board in such a manner that the bees are sheltered against wind and wet, and are able to enter the hive with the least possible loss of time.

53. A well constructed hive ought to admit of being shut up in winter, so as to consign the bees to darkness and repose.

Nothing can be more hazardous than to shut up closely an ill protected hive. Even if the bees have an abundance of air, it will not answer to prevent them from flying out, if they are so disposed. As soon as the warmth penetrating their thin hives tempts them to fly, they crowd to the entrance, and if it is shut, multitudes worry themselves to death in trying to get out, and the whole colony is liable to become diseased.

In my hives as soon as the bees are shut up for Winter, they are most effectually protected against all atmospheric changes, and never desire to leave their hives until the entrances are again opened, on the return of suitable weather. Thus they pass the Winter in a state of almost absolute repose; they eat much less honey[12] than when wintered on the ordinary plan; a much smaller number die in the hives; none are lost upon the snow, and they are more healthy, and commence breeding much earlier than they do in the common hives. As some of the holes into the Protector are left open in Winter, any bee that is diseased and wishes to leave the hive can do so. Bees when diseased have a strange propensity to leave their hives, just as animals when sick seek to retreat from their companions; and in Summer such bees may often be seen forsaking their home to perish on the ground. If all egress from the hive in Winter is prevented, the diseased bees will not be able to comply with an instinct which urges them "To leave their country for their country's good."

54. It should possess all these requisites without being too costly for common bee-keepers, or too complicated to be constructed by any one who can handle simple tools: and they should be so combined that the result is a simple hive, which any one can manage who has ordinary intelligence on the subject of bees.

I suppose that the very natural conclusion from reading this long list of desirables, would be that no single hive can combine them all, without being exceedingly complicated and expensive. On the contrary, the simplicity and cheapness with which my hive secures all these results, is one of its most striking peculiarities, the attainment of which has cost me more study than all the other points besides. As far as the bees are concerned, they can work in this hive with even greater facility than in the simple old-fashioned box, as the frames are left rough by the saw, and thus give an admirable support to the bees when building their combs; and they can enter the spare honey boxes, with even more ease than if they were merely continuations of the main hive.

There are a few desirables to which my hive makes not the slightest pretensions! It promises no splendid results to those who purchase it, and yet are too ignorant, or too careless to be entrusted with the management of bees. In bee-keeping, as in other things, a man must first understand his business, and then proceed on the good old maxim, that "the hand of the diligent maketh rich."

It possesses no talismanic influence by which it can convert a bad situation for honey, into a good one; or give the Apiarian an abundant harvest whether the season is productive or otherwise.

It cannot enable the cultivator rapidly to multiply his stocks, and yet to secure, the same season, surplus honey from his bees. As well might the breeder of poultry pretend that he can, in the same year, both raise the greatest number of chickens, and sell the largest number of eggs.

Worse than all, it cannot furnish the many advantages enumerated, and yet be made in as little time, or quite as cheap as a hive which proves, in the end, to be a very dear bargain.

I have not constructed my hive in accordance with crude theories, or mere conjectures, and then insisted that the bees must flourish in such a fanciful contrivance; but I have studied, for many years, most carefully, the nature of the honey-bee; and have diligently compared my observations with those of writers and practical cultivators, who have spent their lives in extending the sphere of Apiarian knowledge; and as the result, have endeavored to adapt my hive to the actual wants and habits of the bee; and to remedy the many difficulties with which I have found its successful culture to be beset. And more than this, I have actually tested by experiments long continued and on a large scale, the merits of this hive, that I might not deceive both myself and others, and add another to the many useless contrivances which have deluded and disgusted a credulous public. I would, however, most earnestly repudiate all claims to having devised a "perfect bee-hive." Perfection can belong only to the works of the great Creator, to whose Omniscient eye, all causes and effects with all their relations, were present, when he spake, and from nothing formed the universe and all its glorious wonders. For man to stamp upon any of his own works, the label of perfection, is to show both his folly and presumption.

It must be confessed that the culture of bees is at a very low ebb in our country, when thousands can be induced to purchase hives which are in most glaring opposition not only to the true principles of Apiarian knowledge, but often, to the plainest dictates of simple common sense. Such have been the losses and disappointments of deluded purchasers, that it is no wonder that they turn from everything offered in the shape of a patent bee-hive, as a miserable humbug, if not a most bare-faced cheat.

I do not hesitate to say that those old-fashioned bee-keepers, who have most steadily refused to meddle with any novelties, and who have used hives of the very simplest construction, or at least such as are only one remove from the old straw hive, or wooden box, have, as a general thing, realized by far the largest profits in the management of bees. They have lost neither time, money nor bees, in the vain hope of obtaining any unusual results from hives, which, in the very nature of the case, can secure nothing really in advance of what can be accomplished by a simple box-hive with an upper chamber.

A hive of the simplest possible construction, is only a close imitation of the abode of bees in a state of nature; being a mere hollow receptacle in which they are protected from the weather, and where they can lay up their stores.

An improved hive is one which contains, in addition, a separate apartment in which the bees can be induced to lay up the surplus portion of their stores, for the use of their owner. All the various hives in common use, are only modifications of this latter hive, and, as a general rule, they are bad, exactly in proportion as they depart from it. Not one of them offers any remedy for the loss of the queen, or indeed for most of the casualties to which bees are exposed: they form no reliable basis for any new system of management; and hence the cultivation of bees, is substantially where it was, fifty years ago, and the Apiarian as entirely dependent as ever, upon all the whims and caprices of an insect which may be made completely subject to his control.

No hive which does not furnish a thorough control over every comb, can be considered as any substantial advance on the simple improved or chamber hive. Of all such hives, the one which with the least expense, gives the greatest amount of protection, and the readiest access to the spare honey boxes, is the best.

Having thus enumerated the tests to which all hives ought to be subjected, and by which they should stand or fall, I submit them to the candid examination of practical, common sense bee-keepers, who have had the largest experience in the management of bees, and are most conversant with the evils of the present system; and who are therefore best fitted to apply them to an invention, which, if I may be pardoned for using the enthusiastic language of an experienced Apiarian on examining its practical workings, "introduces, not simply an improvement, but a revolution in bee-keeping."

CHAPTER VIII.
PROTECTION AGAINST EXTREMES OF HEAT AND COLD, SUDDEN AND SEVERE CHANGES OF TEMPERATURE, AND DAMPNESS IN THE HIVES.

I specially invite a careful perusal of this chapter, as the subject, though of the very first importance in the management of bees, is one to which but little attention has been given by the majority of cultivators.

In our climate of great and sudden extremes, many colonies are annually injured or destroyed by undue exposure to heat or cold. In Summer, thin hives are often exposed to the direct heat of the sun, so that the combs melt, and the bees are drowned in their own sweets. Even if they escape utter ruin, they cannot work to advantage in the almost suffocating heat of their hives.

But in those places where the Winters are both long and severe, it is much more difficult to protect the bees from the cold than from the heat. Bees are not, as some suppose, in a dormant, or torpid condition in Winter. It must be remembered that they were intended to live in colonies, in Winter, as well as Summer. The wasp, hornet, and other insects which do not live in families in the Winter, lay up no stores for cold weather, and are so organized as to be able to endure in a torpid state, a very low temperature; so low that it would be certain death to a honey-bee, which when frozen, is as surely killed as a frozen man.

As soon as the temperature of the hives falls too low for their comfort, the bees gather themselves into a more compact body, to preserve to the utmost, their animal heat; and if the cold becomes so great that this will not suffice, they keep up an incessant, tremulous motion, accompanied by a loud humming noise; in other words, they take active exercise in order to keep warm! If a thermometer is pushed up among them, it will indicate a high temperature, even when the external atmosphere is many degrees below zero. When the bees are unable to maintain the necessary amount of animal heat, an occurrence which is very common with small colonies in badly protected hives, then, as a matter of course, they must perish.

Extreme cold, when of long continuance, very frequently destroys colonies in thin hives, even when they are strong both in bees and honey. The inside of such hives, is often filled with frost, and the bees, after eating all the food in the combs in which they are clustered, are unable to enter the frosty combs, and thus starve in the midst of plenty. The unskilfull bee-keeper who finds an abundance of honey in the hives, cannot conjecture the cause of their death.

If the cold merely destroyed feeble colonies, or strong ones only now and then, it would not be so formidable an enemy; but every year, it causes many of the most flourishing stocks to perish by starvation. The extra quantity of food which they are compelled to eat, in order to keep up their heat in their miserable hives, is often the turning point with them, between life and death. They starve, when with proper protection, they would have had food enough and to spare.

But some one may say, "What possible difference can the kind of hives in which bees are kept make in the quantity of food which they will consume?" Enough, I would reply, in some single winters, to pay the difference between a good hive and a bad one!

I cannot move my finger, or wink my eye-lids without some waste of muscle, however small; for it is a well-ascertained law in our animal economy, that all muscular exertion is attended with a corresponding waste of muscular fibre. Now this waste must be supplied by the consumption of food, and it would be as unreasonable to expect constant heat from a stove without fresh supplies of fuel, as incessant muscular activity from an insect, without a supply of food proportioned to that activity. If then we can contrive any way to keep our bees in almost perfect quiet during the Winter, we may be certain that they will need much less food than when they are constantly excited.

In the cold Winter of 1851-2, I kept two swarms in a perfectly dry and dark cellar, where the temperature was remarkably uniform, seldom varying two degrees from 50° of Fahrenheit; and I found that the bees ate very little honey. The hives were of glass, and the bees, when examined from time to time, were found clustered in almost death-like repose. If these bees had been exposed in thin hives in the open air, they would, in all probability, have eaten four times as much; for whenever the sun shone upon them, or the atmosphere was unusually warm, they would have been roused to injurious activity, and the same would have been the case, when the cold was severe. Exposed to sudden changes and severe cold, they would have been in almost perpetual motion, and must have been compelled to consume a largely increased quantity of food. In this way, many colonies are annually starved to death, which if they had been better protected, would have survived to gladden their owner with an abundant harvest. This protection, as a general thing, must be given to them in the open air, for it is a very rare thing, to meet with a cellar which is dry enough to prevent the combs from moulding, and the bees from becoming diseased.

Bees never, unless diseased, discharge their fæces in the hive; and the want of suitable protection, by exciting undue activity, and compelling them to eat more freely, causes their bodies to be greatly distended with accumulated fæces. On the return of warm weather, bees in this condition being often too feeble to fly, crawl from their hives, and miserably perish.

I must notice another exceedingly injurious effect of insufficient protection, in causing the moisture to settle upon the cold top and sides of the interior of the hive, from whence it drips upon the bees. In this way, many of their number are chilled and destroyed, and often the whole colony is infected with dysentery. Not unfrequently, large portions of the comb are covered with mould, and the whole hive is rendered very offensive.

This dampness which causes what may be called a rot among the bees, is one of the worst enemies with which the Apiarian in a cold climate, has to contend, as it weakens or destroys many of his best colonies. No extreme of cold ever experienced in latitudes where bees flourish, can destroy a strong colony well supplied with honey, except indirectly, by confining them to empty combs. They will survive our coldest winters, in thin hives raised on blocks to give a freer admission of air, or even in suspended hives, without any bottom-board at all. Indeed, in cold weather, a very free admission of air is necessary in such hives, to prevent the otherwise ruinous effects of frozen moisture; and hence the common remark that bees require as much or more air in Winter than in Summer.

When bees, in unsuitable hives, are exposed to all the variations of the external atmosphere, they are frequently tempted to fly abroad if the weather becomes unseasonably warm, and multitudes are lost on the snow, at a season when no young are bred to replenish their number, and when the loss is most injurious to the colony.

From these remarks, it will be obvious to the intelligent cultivator, that protection against extremes of heat and cold, is a point of the VERY FIRST IMPORTANCE; and yet this is the very point, which, in proportion to its importance, has been most overlooked. We have discarded, and very wisely, the straw hives of our ancestors; but such hives, with all their faults, were comparatively warm in Winter, and cool in Summer. We have undertaken to keep bees, where the cold of Winter, and the heat of Summer are alike intense; and where sudden and severe changes are often fatal to the brood: and yet we blindly persist in expecting success under circumstances in which any marked success is well nigh impossible.

That our country is eminently favorable to the production of honey, cannot be doubted. Many of our forests abound With colonies which are not only able to protect themselves against all their enemies, the dreaded bee-moth not excepted, but which often amass prodigious quantities of honey. Nor are such colonies found merely in new countries. They exist frequently in the very neighborhood of cultivators whose hives are weak and impoverished, and who impute to a decay of the honey resources of the country, the inevitable consequences of their own irrational system of management. It will not be without profit, to consider briefly under what circumstances these wild colonies flourish, and how they are protected against sudden and extreme changes of temperature.

Snugly housed in the hollow of a tree whose thickness and decayed interior are such admirable materials for excluding atmospheric changes, the bees in Winter are in a state of almost absolute repose. The entrance to their abode is generally very small in proportion to the space within; and let the weather out of doors vary as it may, the inside temperature is very uniform. These natural hives are dry, because the moisture finds no cold or icy top, or sides, on which to condense, and from which it must drip upon the bees, destroying their lives, or enfeebling their health, by filling the interior of their dwelling with mould and dampness. As they are very quiet, they eat but little, and hence their bodies are not distended and diseased by accumulated fæces. Often they do not stir from their hollows, from November until March or April; and yet they come forth in the Spring, strong in numbers, and vigorous in health. If at any time in the winter season, the warmth is so great as to penetrate their comfortable abodes, and to tempt them to fly, when they venture out, they find a balmy atmosphere in which they may disport with impunity. In the Summer, they are protected from the heat, not merely by the thickness of the hollow tree, but by the leafy shade of overarching branches, and the refreshing coolness of a forest home.

The Russian and Polish bee-keepers, living in a climate whose winters are much more severe than our own, are among the largest and most successful cultivators of bees, many of them numbering their colonies by hundreds, and some even by thousands!

They have, with great practical sagacity, imitated as closely as possible, the conditions under which bees are found to flourish so admirably in a state of nature. We are informed by Mr. Dohiogost, a Polish writer, that his countrymen make their hives of the best plank, and never less than an inch and a half in thickness. The shape is that of an old-fashioned churn, and the hive is covered on the outside, halfway down, with twisted rope cordage, to give it greater protection against extremes of heat and cold. The hives are placed in a dry situation, directly upon the hard earth, which is first covered with an inch or two of clean, dry sand. Chips are then heaped up all around them, and covered with earth banked up in a sloping direction to carry off the rain. The entrance is at some distance above the bottom, and is a triangle, whose sides are only one inch long. In the winter season, this entrance is contracted so that only one bee can pass at a time. Such a hive, with us, as it does not furnish the honey in convenient, beautiful and salable forms, would not meet the demands of our cultivators. Still, there are some very important lessons to be learned from it, by all who keep bees in regions of cold winters, and hot summers. It shows the importance which some of the largest Apiarians in the world, attach to protection; practical, common sense men, whose heads have not been turned, as some would express it, by modern theories and fanciful inventions. They cultivate their bees almost in a state of nature, and their experience on what we would term a gigantic scale, ought to convince even the most incredulous, of the folly of pretending to keep bees, in the miserably thin and unprotected hives to which we have been accustomed.

But how, it will be asked, can bees live in Winter, in a hive so closely shut up as the Polish hive? They do live in such hives, and prosper, just as they do in hollow trees, with only one small entrance. It is well known that bees have flourished when their hives were buried in Winter, and under circumstances in which but a very small amount of air could possibly gain admission to them. Bees, when kept in a dry place, in properly protected hives and in a state of almost perfect repose, need only a small supply of air; and the objection that those cultivators among us, who shut up their colonies very closely in Winter, are almost sure to lose them, is of no weight; because the majority of our hives are so deficient in protection, that if they are too closely shut up, "the breath of the bees," condensing and freezing upon the inside, and afterwards thawing, causes the combs to mould, and the bees to become diseased; just as many substances mould and perish when kept in a close, damp cellar.

We are now prepared to discuss the question of protection in its relations to the construction of hives. We have seen how it is furnished to the bees in the Polish hives, and in the decayed hollows of trees. If the Apiarian chooses, he can imitate this plan by constructing his hives of very thick plank: but such hives would be clumsy, and with us, expensive. Or he may much more effectually reach the same end, by making his hives double, so as to enclose an air space all around, which in Winter may be filled with charcoal, plaster of Paris, straw, or any good non-conductor, to enable the bees to preserve with the least waste, their animal heat. I prefer to pack the air-space with plaster of Paris, as it is one of the very best non-conductors of heat, being used in the manufacture of the celebrated Salamander fire-proof safes. Hives may be constructed in this way, which without great expense, may be much better protected than if they were made of six-inch plank. As the price of glass is very low, I prefer to construct the inside of my doubled hives of this material. When a number of hives are to be made, as the lowest price glass will answer every purpose, I can furnish a given amount of protection cheaper with glass than wood, while the glass possesses some most decided advantages over any other material. The hives are lighter and more compact, than when made of doubled wood, and can be more easily moved, while the Apiarian can gratify his rational curiosity, and inspect at all times, the condition of his stocks. The very interest inspired by being able to see what they are doing, will go far to protect them from that indifference and neglect, which is so often fatal to their prosperity. The way in which I make my hives, not only protects the bees against extremes of heat and cold, but it guards them very effectually, against the injurious and often fatal effects of condensed moisture. By means of my movable frames, the combs are prevented from being attached to the sides, top or bottom of the hive; they are in fact, suspended in the air. If now the dampness can be prevented from condensing any where, over the bees, so that it may not drip upon their combs, and if it can be easily discharged from the hive wherever it may collect, it cannot, under any circumstances, seriously annoy them. Such are the arrangements in my hives, that but very little moisture forms in them, and all that does, is deposited on the sides in preference to any other part of the interior; just as it is upon the colder walls or windows, rather than the ceiling of a room. But as the combs are kept away from the sides, this moisture cannot annoy the bees; nor can it penetrate the glass as it does unpainted wood or straw, thus causing a more protracted dampness; it must run down their smooth surfaces, and fall upon the bottom-board, from whence it can be easily discharged from the hive. By packing in winter, the necessary amount of protection is secured for the top and sides of the hive, and the very worst property of glass, (its parting so rapidly with heat,) is changed into one of the very best for the purposes of a bee-hive. I prefer not only to make the sides of my hive of glass, but of double glass, with an air space of about an inch between the two panes of glass. The extra cost[13] of this construction will be amply repaid by the additional protection given to the bees. It will be absolutely impossible for any frost ever to penetrate through this air space, and the packing between the outside case and the main hive. The combs in such a hive cannot be melted down, even if the hive is exposed to the reflected and concentrated heat of a blazing sun: the same construction which secures them against the cold of Winter, equally protecting them from the heat of Summer. There is one disadvantage to which all well protected hives of the ordinary construction, are exposed. In the Spring of the year, it is exceedingly desirable that the warmth of the sun should penetrate the hives, to encourage the bees in early breeding; but the very arrangement which protects them from cold, often interferes with this. A bee-hive is thus like a cellar, warm in Winter, and cool in Summer; but often unpleasantly cool in the early Spring, when the atmosphere out of doors is warm and delightful. In my hive, this difficulty is easily remedied. In the Spring, as soon as the bees begin to fly, on warm, sun-shiny days, the upper part of the outside case is removed, so that the genial heat of the sun can penetrate to every part of the hive. The cover must be replaced while the sun is still shining, so that the hives may be shut up while they are warm. The labor of doing this, need occupy only a few minutes daily, and as soon as warm weather fairly sets in, it may be dispensed with. It may be performed without any risk, by a woman or a boy.

If the hive is of glass, it will warm up all the better, and as the combs are on frames, they cannot be melted or injured by the heat. It is a serious objection to most covered Apiaries, that they do not permit the hives to receive the genial heat of the sun at a period of the year when instead of injuring the bees, it exerts a most powerful influence in developing their brood.

This is one among many reasons why I have discarded them, and why I prefer to construct my hives in such a manner that they need no extra covering, but stand exposed to the full influence of the sun. I have known strong colonies which have survived the Winter in thin hives, to increase rapidly and swarm early, because of the stimulating effect of the sun; while others, deprived of this influence, in dark bee houses and well protected hives, have sometimes disappointed the hopes of their owners. Although my glass hives are very beautiful, and most admirably protected, still hives of doubled wood may often be built to better advantage by those who construct their own hives, and they can be made to furnish any desirable amount of protection.

Enclosed Apiaries are at best but nuisances: they soon become lurking-places for spiders and moths; and after all the expense wasted on their construction, afford, but little protection against extreme cold.

I have been thus particular on the subject of protection, in order to convince every bee keeper who exercises common sense, that thin hives ought to be given up, if either pleasure or profit is sought from his bees. Such hives an enlightened Apiarian could not be persuaded to purchase, and he would consider them too expensive in their waste of honey and bees, to be worth accepting, even as a gift. Many strong colonies which are lodged in badly protected hives, often consume in extra food, in a single hard winter, more than enough to pay the difference between the first cost of a good hive over a bad one. In the severe winter of 1851-2, many cultivators lost nearly all their stocks, and a large part of those which survived, were too much weakened to be able to swarm. And yet these same miserable hives, after accomplishing the work of destruction on one generation of bees, are reserved to perform the same office for another. And this some call economy!

I am well aware of the question which many of my readers have for some time been ready to ask of me. Can you make one of your well protected hives as cheaply as we construct our common hives? I would remind such questioners, that it is hardly possible to build a well protected house as cheaply as a barn.

And yet by building my hives in solid structures, three together, I am able to make them for a very moderate price, and still to give them even better protection than when they are constructed singly. If they are not built of doubled materials they can be made for as little money as any other patent hive, and yet afford much greater protection; as the combs touch neither the top, bottom nor sides of the hive. I recommend however a construction, which although somewhat more costly at first, is yet much cheaper in the end.

Such is the passion of the American people for cheapness in the first cost of an article, even at the evident expense of dearness in the end, that many, I doubt not, will continue to lodge their bees in thin hives, in spite of their conviction of the folly of so doing; just as many of our shrewdest Yankees build thin wooden houses, in the cold climate of New England, or plaster their stone or brick ones directly on the wall, when the extra cost of fuel to warm them, far exceeds the interest on the additional expense which would be necessary to give them the requisite protection; to say nothing of the doctors' bills, and fatal diseases which can be traced often to the dreary barns or damp vaults which they build, and call houses!