Two Casts or weak Swarms may be joined in the same manner, although one of them may have swarmed some days or even weeks later than the other, taking care however, not to make the first one enter the second, but the second the first, a third, and a fourth parcel of Bees may be joined to them at different times, till the stock becomes strong.
It is almost impossible sufficiently to impress upon the mind of every person who keeps Bees, the necessity of having his stocks all strong, for weak stocks are very troublesome, very expensive, and seldom, if ever, afford any profit.
Mr. Taylor say, "the stronger the colony at the outset the better the Bees will work, and the more prosperous it will become. I never knew a weak one do well long, and a little extra expense, and trouble at first, are amply rewarded by succeeding years of prosperity and ultimate profit;" and again, "thus strength in one year begets it in succeeding ones, and this principle ought to be borne in mind by those who imagine that the deficient population of one season will be made up in the next, and that the loss of Bees in the winter is of secondary consequence, forgetting how influential is their warmth to the earlier and increased productive powers of the Queen, and how important it is in the opening spring to be able to spare from the home duties of the hive a number of collectors, to add to the stores, which would otherwise not keep pace with the cravings of the rising generation."
It is a remarkable fact, that two weak stocks joined, will collect double the quantity of honey, and consume much less than two of the same age and strength, kept separately. Stocks must be joined after sunset, upon the day that one of them has swarmed, or before sunrise the next morning, and the doubled stock must be placed upon the stand it previously occupied. Great care must be taken not to shake the hive, nor must it be turned up, the combs being new, and tender, will easily break, and the stock by that means be destroyed.
CHAPTER VIII.
Manner of uniting Swarms and old stocks in Autumn.
For this very useful information, I am indebted to that excellent Apiarian, Gelieu; I have tried it upon some of my own stocks, as well as upon those of my friends, and have found it in every instance fully to answer my expectations. Persons possessing these instructions should not allow a weak stock to remain through the winter.
The operation is performed very easily and without danger: I have frequently accomplished it without any protection whatever, and I will give the method in the words of Gelieu—"When the swarms have not been able to lay up a sufficient provision during the fine weather, I weigh them at the end of the season, and knowing the weight of each empty hive, I can tell exactly the quantity of honey they have in store. If they are three, four, five or six pounds too light, I preserve them and feed them in the manner I am about to detail. When the swarms have only about one-third or one half of the quantity of honey which would suffice to feed them, I might keep them alive by giving them as much more as they require. I have frequently done so, but I have already remarked that this plan costs too much honey, and gives too much trouble: and, therefore, I generally join them into one. For this purpose, I leave the heaviest swarm untouched, and, in the morning of a fine day in September, or the beginning of October, I commence by blowing a few whiffs of tobacco-smoke with my pipe in at the door of the hive of the lightest swarm, to disperse the sentinels; then turning up the hive, and placing it on its top on the ground, I give it a little more smoke, to prevent the Bees from becoming irritated, and to force them to retire within the combs—I proceed to cut out all the combs in succession, beginning with the smallest, sweeping the Bees with a feather off each piece back into the hive; and then I place the combs, one after another, into a large dish beside me, keeping it, at the same time, carefully covered over with a napkin, or small table cloth, to prevent the Bees returning to their combs, or the smell of the honey attracting others that may be flying about. The last comb is the most difficult to come at, being completely covered over with Bees. I detach it, however, in the same way as the others, but with greater precaution, sweeping the Bees off very gently with the feather, until there is not one left on it. This operation, I perform without gloves, or any other protection, armed only with my pipe; and for ten times that I treat them after this fashion, I seldom receive one sting, even when I act unassisted.
"The combs being all removed, the swarm remains as completely destitute of food as it was on the day of its emigration, and I replace it on its board in the same spot it occupied when full, and leave it till the evening, by which time the Bees will be clustered together like a new swarm. During the whole of the day, which I shall suppose to be fine, they occupy themselves with great earnestness cleansing their house, and making such a noise in removing the little fragments of wax that have fallen on the board, that any one who did not know it had been emptied, would take it for the best and strongest of the hives. Before night, when they are all quiet, I throw a few whiffs of smoke in at the door of the hive which I mean my deprived swarm to enter, and which should be its next neighbour on the right hand or the left; then, turning it up, and resting it on the ground, I sprinkle it all over with honey, especially between the combs where I perceive the greatest number of Bees: five or six table spoonfuls generally suffice; at other times three or four times as many are required. If too little were given, the new comers might not be well received; there might be some fighting; and by giving too much, we run the risk of drowning them.—One should cease the sprinkling when the Bees begin to climb up above the combs, and shelter themselves on the sides of the hive, this done, I replace the hive on its board, which should jut out about seven or eight inches, raising the hive up in the front with two little bits of stick, so as to leave a division of an inch between it and the board, to give free access to the Bees. I also spread a table cloth upon the ground before it, raising and fixing one end of it on the board, by means of two bits of stick, that are placed as a temporary support to the hive. I then take the hive that was deprived of its combs in the morning, and with one shake, throw the Bees out of it upon the table-cloth, which they instantly begin to ascend; while, by the help of a long wooden spoon, I guide them to the door of the one that is placed for their reception. A few spoonfuls of the Bees raised and laid down at the door of the hive will set the example, they enter at once, and the others follow quickly, flapping their wings, and sipping with delight the drops of honey that come in their way, or officiously licking and cleaning those first inhabitants that have received the sprinkling, and with whom they mingle and live henceforth on good terms; one division of the new comers always cluster on the front of the hive, which they enter during the night without disturbance, much pleased to join their companions.
"Next morning, early, it is necessary to take away the table-cloth, and the bits of stick, that were placed to raise up the hive, and facilitate the entrance of the Bees, and for some days the door should be left open as wide as possible. The hive should also be moved a little to the right or left, that it may stand precisely in the centre of the place they both occupied before the union.