They began to crawl in at once, and among the rest Alice caught sight of the queen just entering the hive with a mass of bees. This meant definite possession being taken. Immediately the bees spread over the entrance-board began to “fan.” The swarm was safely hived.
A new swarm usually works with great vigor, knowing that it has a great deal of time to make up, and this one might be expected to finish the super. The parent colony was now out of action; but it would hatch out a new queen in a week, and would build up strong again before fall.
“We must really do something to keep swarming down,” said Alice, anxiously. “Of course, we want to increase our bees, but if the colonies break up now, it will cut our honey crop in two. And we must get the honey.”
“Nothing to do, then, but to go all through them and see if any more are starting queen-cells,” replied Carl. “It’s rather a big job, though, and I wish Bob were here to help us.”
However, it was not necessary to tear all the hives open. Some, they knew, were too weak to think of swarming. With others it was sufficient to glance at the entrance and into the super to make sure of the steady, contented activity. About twenty they went through thoroughly, and in five of them they found the beginnings of queen-cells—an acorn-shaped cup, with an almost microscopic larvæ in it surrounded by royal jelly. These they tore down at once, and marked the hives for close watching in future.
Next morning they continued this inspection, and three swarms came out while they were at work. One of them settled in the top of such a high tree that it could not be reached. They had to let it stay, and late that afternoon it took wing again and made off, across the woods, out of sight.
The others they hived successfully, and they made all possible haste to look through all the suspicious colonies for signs of swarming. Despite all efforts, however, the bees seemed to be getting ahead of them, and they were working frantically when a voice hailed them from the direction of the river:
“Hello, busy bees!”
Bob was coming up through the willows from the direction of the river, and, dropping everything, they rushed to meet him in delight and astonishment.
“How in the world did you get here? Where’s your wagon? You didn’t walk?” cried Carl.