A great inconvenience attending crowded apiaries is, that two or more hives may have the same signal; but happily, in this case, which is a rare one, they have the power of changing the signal; in proof of which, the following circumstance happened with mine, in one of the most abundant honey seasons.
In the month of May I had lodged my first swarm, which was a very strong one, in a large straw hive. The weather being very mild, they set to work immediately, and very soon filled more than half of the hive. In a few days, I observed it was invaded by a swarm belonging to one of my neighbours; that they went in and came out, without being detected; and that they were carrying out as much honey as my bees were bringing in.
I shut up one-half of their door; and, for nearly a whole week, whenever I was at leisure, I stationed myself near my swarm, and killed every day hundreds of the thieves, which were easily distinguished by their shape,—slender enough when they went in, but puffed up as they came out, with as much nectar as they could contain. This, however, did not stop them, and they continued coming and going, in greater numbers, till night, and beginning again early in the morning.
I had plenty of sport, but my labour was in vain, and I began to despair of saving my swarm, when, one afternoon, I perceived it to be agitated and troubled, as if it had lost its queen. The bees buzzed about before the hive, and on the board, smelling and touching each other, as if they would have spoken. It was to change their signal, and which in fact they did change, during the night; and all the strangers that came next day were arrested, and put to death. Some escaped the vigilance of the guards that defended the entrance, and doubtless warned the others of the danger they had escaped, and that they could no more plunder with impunity: they returned no more, and my hive prospered wonderfully. I have, in the course of my life, seen only other two similar instances that had the same result.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
PRESERVATION OF HIVES IN WINTER, AND MEANS OF PROTECTING THEM FROM THE COLD.
The most important point that remains to be treated, is the preservation of hives in winter. This severe season, which lasts at Neufchatel four months, from the commencement of November to the end of February, and which is even longer in the mountains, causes the death of more bees than all the enemies of all the other seasons put together; and mostly, too, from our own want of attention. It is by practice only that true principles can be laid down: and these principles must be variously modified, to adapt their application to the differences of temperature and locality. One can learn with certainty only by the light of experience. I shall proceed to tell what it has taught me; and here I enter on the most difficult and the most essential part of my task.
We must suppose that the necessary care has been taken to ascertain that each hive has the quantity of provision necessary for its subsistence until the return of the fine season, and it is better that they should have too much than too little; for bees are great economists, and never waste their superfluity.
I lay down as a general rule, and without any exception, that bees ought never to be fed during the winter. Food given them during that season causes disease, breeds infection, particularly if they are kept confined; and if they are at liberty, and forced out by the unwholesome smell of the hive, they are likely to perish from the cold. Besides, it always appeared to me that they consume more when food is given them by little and little, than when they have it in store. I have pointed out, in [Chapter VIII.] the certain rule by which the quantity of provision may be estimated; and, in [Chapter XVII.] I have detailed the method of supplying them in autumn. Thus they will be saved from hunger, if my advice be followed. Let us now see how they may be defended from cold, and the fatal effects of a long imprisonment. Some winters are so long and so rigid, that our valuable insects suffer greatly from the intensity of the cold; and the least evil it does them, is to crystallise their honey, which is then no longer of any use to them. The warmth keeps it in a fluid state; but this warmth, concentrated in the middle, or on one side of the hive, does not prevent it being candied in the other parts of it. More candied honey will generally be found on one side than the other. This may be prevented by narrowing the entrance, and closing up every crevice by which the external air can penetrate. Our industrious and provident little labourers set the example. Their instinct leads them, during the summer, carefully to close up every crack or joining of their habitation, with a sort of gummy matter called propolis, which cannot be penetrated either by the mice, the moths, or the ants. I have seen an excellent swarm perish, in consequence of a slight bend in the board, which left an interstice on each side, through which a cold north wind sifted, and froze more than three-fourths of the bees; and no after care was able to save those that were left.
Two years after, another hive, belonging to the same person, carefully plastered round, but being made of too slight material, too thin, and having no covering, lost at least two-thirds of its population from cold. It was saved, however, by great care, and in time recovered. It is to avoid similar disasters that hives are commonly taken into the house; but this exposes them to the evil arising from infection.