The following letter from Mr. Benton, from Singapore, will be read with interest. That city is a great seaport near the Islands of Borneo and Java. Mr. Benton’s search after those large bees—Apis dorsata—is a herculean task, and his trip thither will be well worth a place in history. Here is the letter:
Friend Jones: When in Ceylon I plunged into the jungles, first in this direction and then in that, and followed out every clue that I could obtain; yet although on every side I was told there existed “a large bee,” which the natives call bambera, it was not until just before I came away that I ascertained anything reliable regarding the habits and whereabouts of this wonderful insect, which I feel safe in saying is the long talked of Apis dorsata itself; though it was too late for me to get to the places where I could see this bee and still reach this steamer. As I return to Ceylon, and am likely to see Apis dorsata elsewhere also, I comforted myself regarding the disappointment experienced at not seeing this bambera before my re-embarkation.
I will speak in the order of their size, of the bees found in Ceylon, giving the Cingalese names used there.
Kana Mee Meso belongs to the Trigonæ, and therefore is not a true honey bee, although it gathers pollen and some honey, and lives in swarms with a queen. In a jungle a few miles from Kaltura, on the southwest coast of Ceylon, I found a small bee which contained a nest of these minute, stingless bees. A tube about ¾ of an inch in diameter and a foot long, composed of propolis and particles of wood, hung from the hole of the tree, and through this tube all the bees entered. It seems this is a means of keeping out larger insects. The tree was cut and the nest secured. The cells are built in irregular bunches like those made by common bumble bees. Those cells containing brood were about the size of a grain of rice, while the honey and pollen cells were as large as the smaller cells made by bumble bees. The workers are somewhat less than 3/16 of an inch long, (about 5/32) have large heads, and very small abdomens, the latter seeming blunt, and abbreviated, so to speak. These bees fly swiftly, and look odd enough as they come in loaded with minute pellets of pollen, which is packed on their hind legs as with other bees. They are black.
The queen is large, her abdomen being so great as to dwarf in appearance all other parts of her body, and so disable her as far as flying and rapid movements are concerned. Of course there can be no practical value in these bees, but I tucked the nest in a box about 6 inches square and 2 deep, or rather a part of the brood and honey, and brought the swarm along. They have been fixing up their new home quite bravely.
Daudual-Meso is a small bee which I have not seen, but which I do not believe is likely to prove valuable, since it is so small. Its comb is composed of regular hexagonal wax cells, like all comb of Apis, but there are 81 cells to the square inch. I have in my possession a small piece.
Mee Meso are the Cingalese words signifying “honey bee,” and this is the bee from which, aside from bambera, most of the honey and wax come.
Bambera, all accounts agree, exists plentifully in the jungles of Ceylon, but I found just before I came away, only rarely near the seashore, I failed to find it within 10 miles of the coast. I was glad to get accounts from persons who have seen these bees and their trees, and have measured the lengths of their combs; observing gentlemen, too, whose word can be relied upon. They say these bees, which I feel sure are of the species Apis dorsata, attach their combs to the branches of trees, usually some lofty trees of the primitive forest, and a gentleman who has often seen them, says they build combs 8 feet long. Another once measured a comb which he found to be 6 feet long. The first mentioned gentleman says he has seen 30 natives with earthen pots each receive a load from one bambera bee tree, and has seen a swarm of these bees nearly a half mile long. When I visited the Government Museum in order to obtain information as to whether they knew anything of these bees and where they were to be found, the natives having only succeeded in finding deborah, (a large hornet) with its nest, for me. I was at once taken by one of the directors to this gentleman, as the one from whom the most information could be obtained.
The Cyprian and Palestine bees I have with me are doing finely. Those left in Ceylon will serve to introduce the species A. melifica, and will establish in that wonderful productive Island an industry that I feel sure will thrive there and be a source of revenue to the inhabitants and the government.
Upon my return I have formed the plan of taking with me for introduction to Cyprus a lot of cocoanut palm trees, some mango and bread-fruit seeds or trees, and a species of paw-paw found in Ceylon. As the date-palm, the orange, the lemon, the fig, the banana and the pomegranate are already growing in Cyprus, I believe these new fruits will thrive and find favor. Financially, of course, it is an experiment, yet I believe it promises well; at any rate it will not cost much to try it.
Except this paw-paw, I failed to find any fruit or grain that is likely to thrive in as cold a climate as the central parts of North America. Cinnamon, coffee, tea, betel nuts, precious stones and cocoanuts and oil are, with cinchona bark, the principal exports of Ceylon. I talked with various exporters, but all had their agents in N. Y. and Canada, and desired no change. None of them would sell, of course, direct to the firm, when possessing an agent in America.
Upon my return I will see what further can be ascertained as to “out-of-the-way products.” It is hard to get any prices, and would in most instances be difficult to obtain a quantity worth while to ship.
From Arabia, coffee, gums, perfumes and pearls come. At Aden I was told that the best Mocha coffee could be got for one shilling (or 24 cts.) per lb. In large quantities I think it can be got still cheaper. I should think precious stones (sapphire, jasper, &c.,) gums, coffee, cocoanut oil, cinnamon oil and pearl would pay best, perhaps also ivory and ostrich feathers. At Aden I found some large wheat, but kinds were mixed, or else the variety is not a fixed sort. This portion of the world produces little or no grain besides rice.
I have obtained seeds of a number of flowering plants and trees, some of which I know yield honey, and others that look as though they might were there bees to gather it. We expect to reach Singapore to-morrow forenoon. I will take the first steamer for Batavia, which will likely leave in a day or so.
Frank Benton.
For the American Bee Journal.
Cause of Bee Cholera or Dysentery.
G. M. DOOLITTLE.
I have noticed in several articles a statement quite similar to this, which is taken from Mr. James Heddon’s article in the February number of the Bee-Keepers’ Instructor: “Every bee-keeper of experience who lives in our northern latitudes has witnessed enough to know that cold or confinement, or both, do not cause bee cholera or dysentery.” Now, I claim the title “bee-keeper” (whether of experience or not I dare not say), and live in the “northern latitudes,” yet I cannot be one of the number above styled as “every,” for I believe confinement does cause the so-called dysentery, and hope to so clearly show it in this article that you will so acknowledge also.
First. I once produced dysentery (I do not believe this is a disease, but merely an accumulation of the feces) in its worst form, the latter part of June, by confining a lot of bees to the hive for 10 days. A frame of brood was taken from the hive with the adhering bees, and also a frame of honey with the bees which were on that, and placed in an empty hive to form a nucleus, the bees being confined to the hive for three or four days, when the entrance was opened in the evening. Early the next morning there came on a cold storm and bad weather ensued, so the bees could not fly for six more days. On the tenth day the sun came out, and the bees from these nuclei (7 in number) were so loaded that they could scarcely fly. An examination revealed that they had eaten on an average about 2 lbs. of honey in each nucleus. Nuclei made but a few days before, which had flown 2 or 3 times before the bad weather, were not eager to fly, and showed no signs of dysentery, neither did our full colonies; nor had they eaten an undue amount of honey. The trouble here was evidently confinement, which caused the bees to worry and thereby consume an undue quantity of food, thus producing a necessity to void the excrement, or dysentery, if you please to call it so.
Again, in the fall of 1878 our bees were prepared for winter in the best possible shape, and had nothing but white honey in their hives, said honey being collected the early part of July, for we had no fall honey. Sixty colonies were put in the cellar, and 90 left on the summer stands, two-thirds of which were packed with chaff and straw. Winter set in early, and the weather was so cold that no bees could fly with safety for nearly 4½ months. At the end of 4 months some of our best colonies were dead, with the combs and hives soiled badly, while others sitting right alongside of them were in as fine condition as could be, and remained thus, coming out strong in the spring. If it was “bacteria” in the honey, why did not all die, as all had the same stores? We also placed 60 colonies from the same yard in the cellar on the 1st of November, and did not set them out till May 1st, and 55 of the 60 came out in good condition, while we only saved 15 out of the 90 out-doors—75 dying with the dysentery, so-called. If it was infection of the honey, why did not those in the cellar die also, and especially as they stood 6 month’s confinement? The past winter has shown the same results, only our loss is but about 10 per cent. so far.
Now I will give my conclusion. From practical experience I have been forced to the conclusion that confinement is the cause of all wintering troubles, for surely, bees do not die from what they eat in July weather when they can fly. But confine them to the hive with July weather, and they cannot live one-third as long as in cool or cold weather. That confinement is the result whenever the mercury falls below 40° to 45° in the shade, and as surely as the mercury stays below this for 60 days in succession, bees not properly protected will suffer therefrom, and if properly protected, 120 days will more or less hurt those on the summer stands; that 180 days’ confinement in a good cellar can be endured by the bees as well as 120 days in well-protected hives, or 60 days with no protection on the summer stands; that if 60 days more of confinement is added in either case, not 1 colony in 10 can survive, no matter what the food is nor the surrounding conditions. Now, we come to our last point, which is, that instead of the trouble being in the kind of honey eaten thus producing dysentery, the trouble is in the quantity eaten, and as the quantity consumed is to the number of days the bees are confined, so is their length of life shortened or extended. For instance, a fair-sized colony may consume 1½ lbs. of honey per month, and endure confinement without soiling the combs for 6 months; now, if they consume 6 times this amount in 2 months, they must fly at the end of that time or the combs will be soiled very soon thereafter. We often read, “My bees wintered well and consumed but very little honey,” while the fact was that their consuming but little honey was the reason they wintered well. Thus we are able to answer the question why one colony dies, and another at the side of it does not. It is because one gets discontented and consumes large quantities of honey, while the other does not.
Now comes the rub: why does one colony get discontented within 1 month after being confined, and another does not under 3 or 4, or in case of cellar wintering, 6 months. Well, I will be candid and say I do not know; but I do not believe the cause is in the honey altogether. One thing Mr. Heddon and myself will agree on I am sure, and that is, if as soon and as often as a colony gets uneasy and goes to eating honey ravenously they could have a day to fly, all would be well, even if such a colony was obliged to fly 3 or 4 times where another did not have to but once.