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

by L. L. Langstroth

If honey-water is used instead of sugar-water in sprinkling the bees when the hive is first opened, the smell will be almost certain to entice marauders from other hives to attempt to take possession of treasures which do not belong to them, and when they once commence such a pilfering course of life, they will be very loth to lay it aside. When the honey harvest is abundant, (and this is the very time for forcing swarms,) bees, with proper precautions, are seldom inclined to rob. I have sometimes found it difficult to induce them to notice honey-combs which I wished them to empty, even when they were placed in an exposed situation. This subject, however, will be more fully treated in the remarks on Robbing.

Perhaps some of my readers will hardly be able to convince themselves that bees may be dealt with after the fashion I have been describing, without becoming greatly enraged; so far is this from being the case, that in my operations, I often use neither sugar-water nor bee-dress, although I do not recommend the neglect of such precautions.

The artificial swarm may be created with perfect safety, even at mid-day, when thousands of bees are returning to the hive: for these bees being laden with honey, never venture upon making an attack, while those at home may be easily pacified.

I find a very great advantage in the peculiar shape of my hive, which allows the top to be easily removed, and the sugar-water to be sprinkled upon the bees, before they attempt to take wing. If like the Dzierzon hive, it opened on the end, it would be impossible for me to use the sweetened water, so as to make it run down between all the ranges of comb, and I should be forced, as he does, to employ smoke, in all my operations. Huber thus speaks of the pacific effect produced upon the bees by the use of his leaf hive. "On opening the hive, no stings are to be dreaded, for one of the most singular and valuable properties attending my construction, is its rendering the bees tractable. I ascribe their tranquility to the manner in which they are affected by the sudden admission of light, they appear rather to testify fear than anger. Many retire, and entering the cells, seem to conceal themselves." I will admit that Huber has here fallen into an error which he would not have made, had he used his own eyes. The bees do indeed enter the cells when the frames are exposed, but not "to conceal themselves;" they imagine that their sweets, thus unceremoniously exposed to the light of day, are to be taken from them, and they fill themselves to their utmost capacity, in order to save all that they can. I always expect them to appropriate the contents of the open cells, as soon as I remove their frames from the hive. It is not merely the sudden admission of light, but its introduction from an unexpected quarter, that seems for the time to disarm the hostility of the bees. They appear for a few moments, almost as much confounded as we should be, if without any warning the roof and ceiling of a house should suddenly fly off into the air. Before they recover from their amazement, the sweet libation is poured out upon them, and surprize is quickly converted into pleasure rather than anger. I believe that in the working season, almost all the bees near the top are gorged with honey, and that this is the reason why opening the hive from ABOVE is so easily effected. The bees below that are disposed to resent any intrusions, are met in their threatening ascent, with an avalanche of nectar which "like a soft answer," most effectually "turneth away wrath." Who would ever be willing to use the sickening fumes of the disgusting weed, when so much pleasure instead of pain may be given to his bees. That bees never seem to be prepared to make an instant assault from the top of their hive, but only near the entrance, any one may be convinced of, who will put my frames into a suspended hive with a movable bottom which may be made to drop at pleasure. If now, for any purpose, he attempts to meddle with the combs from below, he will find that unless he uses smoke, the bees will be almost, if not quite unmanageable.

I shall now give some directions, which will greatly assist the Apiarian in his operations. He must bear in mind that nothing irritates bees more than a sudden jar, and that this must, in all cases, be most carefully avoided. The inside cover of the hive, or as I shall term it, the honey-board, because the surplus honey receptacles stand upon it, can never be very firmly attached by the bees: it may always be readily loosened with a thin knife, or better still, with an apothecary's spatula, which will be very useful for many purposes in the Apiary. When the honey-board is removed, its lower surface will be usually covered with bees, and it should be carefully set on end, so as not to crush them. There is not the least danger that one of them will offer to sting, as they are completely bewildered by the sudden introduction of light, and their removal from the hive. As soon as the cover is disposed of, the Apiarian should sprinkle the bees with the sweet solution. This should descend from the watering-pot in a fine stream, so as not to drench the bees, and should fall upon the tops of the frames, as well as between the ranges of comb. The bees will at once, accept the proffered treat, and will begin lapping it up, as peaceably as so many chickens helping themselves to corn. While they are thus engaged, the frames must be very gently pried by a stick, from their attachments to the rabbets on which they rest; this may be done without any jar and without wounding or enraging a single bee. They may all be loosened preparatory to removing them, in less than a minute.[17] By this time, the sprinkled bees will have filled themselves, or if all have not done so, the grateful intelligence that sweets have been furnished them, will diffuse an unusual good nature through all the honied realm. The Apiarian should now remove one of the outside frames, taking hold of its two ends which rest upon the rabbets, and carefully lifting it out without inclining it from its perpendicular position, so as not to injure a single bee. The removal of the next comb, and of all the succeeding ones, will be more easily effected, as there will be more room to operate to advantage. If bees were disposed to fly away at once from their combs, as soon as they were taken out, it would be very difficult to manage them, but so far are they from doing this, that they adhere to them with most wonderful tenacity. I have sometimes removed all the combs, and arranged them in a continued line, and the bees have not only refused to leave them, but have stoutly defended them against the thieving propensities of other bees. By shaking off the bees from the combs upon a sheet, and securing the queen, I can, on any pleasant day, exhibit nearly all the appearances of natural swarming. The bees, as soon as they miss their queen, will rise into the air, and by placing her on the twig of a tree, they will soon cluster around her in the manner already described.

A word as to the manner of catching the queen. I seize her very gently, as I espy her among the bees, and by taking care to crush none of them, run not the least risk of being stung. The queen herself never stings, even if handled ever so roughly.

In removing the frames from the hive, it will be found very convenient to have a box with suitable rabbets in which they may be temporarily put, and covered over with a piece of cotton cloth. They may thus be very easily protected from the cold, and from robbing bees, if they are to be kept out of the hive for some time; and such a box will be very convenient to receive frames that are lifted out for examination. In returning the frames to a hive, care must be taken not to crush the bees where their ends rest upon the rabbets; they must be put in slowly, so that a bee, when he feels the slightest pressure may have a chance to creep from under them, before he is hurt.

The honey-cover, for convenience, is generally in two pieces: these cannot be laid down on the hive, without danger of killing many bees; they are therefore very carefully slid on, so that any bees which may be in the way, are pushed before them, instead of being crushed. If any bees are upon such parts of the hive as to be imprisoned if the outside cover is closed, it should be left a little open, until they have flown to the entrance of the hive. It cannot be too deeply impressed upon the bee-keeper, that all his motions must be slow and gentle, and that the bees must not be injured or breathed upon. If he will carefully follow the directions I have given, he may soon open a hundred hives and perform any necessary operation upon them, without any bee-dress, and yet with very little risk of being stung, but I almost despair of being able to convince even the most experienced Apiarians, of the ease and safety with which bees may be managed on my plan, until they have actually been eye-witnesses of its successful operation.

I can make an artificial colony in the way above described in ten minutes from the time that I open the hive, and if I see the queen as quickly as I often do, in not more than five minutes. Fifteen minutes will be a very liberal allowance of time to complete the whole work. If I had an Apiary of a hundred colonies, in less than a week, if the weather was pleasant, I could without any assistance easily finish the business of swarming for the whole season.

But how can the Apiarian, if he delays the formation of artificial swarms until nearly the season for natural swarming, be sure that his bees will not swarm in the usual way? Must he not still be constantly on hand, or run the risk of losing many of his best swarms? I come now to the entirely novel plan by which such objections are completely obviated. If the Apiarian decides that he can most advantageously multiply his colonies by artificial swarming, he must see that all his fertile queens are deprived of their wings, so as to be unable to lead off new swarms. As an old queen never leaves the hive except to accompany a new swarm, the loss of her wings does not, in the least interfere with her usefulness, or with the attachment of the bees. Occasionally, a wingless queen is so bent on emigrating, that in spite of her inability to fly, she tries to go off with a swarm; she has "a will," but contrary to the old maxim she can find "no way," but helplessly falls upon the ground instead of gaily mounting into the air. If the bees succeed in finding her, they will never desert her, but cluster directly around her, and may thus be easily secured by the Apiarian. If she is not found, the bees will return to the parent stock to await the maturity of the young queens. The Apiarian will ordinarily be prepared to form his artificial colonies before any of these young queens are hatched.