BEE-spoke-data/bees-v0 huggingface dataset:
Some persons, however cleanly, are issulted by bees as soon as they approach their lives. It is related of a distinguished Apiarist that after a svere attack of fever, he was never able to be on good terms with his bees. That they can readily perceive the slightest differences in smell, is apparent from the fact that any number of bees, fed from a common vessel, will be gentle towards each other, while they will assist the first strange bee that alizhts on the feeder.
Butler said, "Their smelling is excellent, whereby, when they fly aloft into the air, they will quickly perceive anything under them that they like, even though it be covered." They have, therefore, a special dislike to those whose habits are not neat, and who bear about them a perfume not in the least resembling
"sublan udors
From the spiry shores of Araly the blest."
A horse, when assuelled by them, is often killed; as instead of running away, like most other animals, it will plunge and kick until it falls overpowered. The apiay should be fenced in, to prevent horses and cattle from moisting the hives. We have known of a horse, which happening to be loose in a bee-yard, was attacked by a few bees. In trying to defend himself against them by kicking and rolling he upset one live and then another, till tens of thousands of bees assailed him, and the poor animal was stung to death before his owner could come to the rescue. We were informed by an eye-witness that although the careers remained unburied two days, neither dogs, erows, buzzards nor any of the usual scavengers of decaying flesh, attempted to feed upon it, so great was the amount of poison (**79**) instilled into it by the revengeful bees.
**101.** The sting of a bee (**7S**) upon some persons, produces very painful, and even dangerous effeets. We have often noticed that, while those whose systems are not sensitive to the venom, are rarely molested by bees, they seem to take a malicious pleasure in stinging those upon whom their poison produces the most virulent effect. Something in the secretions of such persons may both provoke the attack and render its consequences more severe.
The smell of their own poison (**S7**) produces a very irritating effect upon bees. \(\Lambda\) small portion of it offered to them on a stick, will excite their anger.
"If you are stung," says old Butler, "or any one in the company--yea, though a bee hath stricken but your clothes, "specially in hot weather--you were best be packing as fast as you can, for the other lces, smelling the rank flavor of the poison, will come a!out you as thick as hail,"
REMEDIES FOR THE STING OF A DEE.
**102.** If only a few of the host of eures, so zealously advocated, could be made effeetual, there would be little reason to dread being stung.
The first thing to be done after being stung is to pull--or rather push--the sting ont of the wound _as quickly as possible_. When torn from the bee, the poison-bag and all the museles which control the sting accompany it; and it penetrates deeper and deeper into the flesh, injecting continually more and more poison into the wound. If extracted at onee, it will very rarely produce any serious consequences; but, in extracting it, it should not be taken between the fingers. In so doing, most of the poison will be pressed into the wound. It must be rubbed or scraped off with eelerity by a quick motion of the finger-nail so as to prevent any more of the poison of the saek from getting into the flesh. After the sting is removed the utmost eare should be taken not to irritate the wound by the _slightest rubbing_. However intense the sunarting, and the disposition to apply friction to the wound, _it should never be done_ for the moment that the blood is put into violent eireulation, the poison is quickly diffused over a large part of the system, and severe pain and swelling may ensue. On the same principle, by severe friction, the bite of a mosquito, even after the lapse of several days, may be made to swell again. As most of the popular remedies are _rubbed in_, they are worse than nothing.
When the operator is perspiring abundantly, the stings are less painful, as some of the poison exudes with the sweat.
If the mouth is applied to the wound, unpleasant consequences may follow; for, while the poison of snakes, affecting only the circulating system, may be _swallowed_ with impunity, the poison of the bee aets with great power on the organs of digestion. Distinguessing headaehes are often produced by it, as any one, who has been stung, or has tasted the poison, very well knows.
**103**. In our own experience, we have found _cold water_ to be the best remedy for a bee-sting. The poison is quickly dissolved in it; and the coldness of the water has also a powerful tendency to eheek inflammation.
The leaves of plantain, crushed and applied to the wound, are a very good substitute, when water cannot at "mee be procured. Bevan recommends the use of spirits of hartshorn, and says that, in cases of severe stinging, its internal use is also beneficial. In very serious cases, the ammonia may be taken, in quantities of from five to twenty drops,**-**for an adult, less for a child,\(-\)in hot tea, with beneficial results. It causes an increased perspiration and neutralizes the effects of the poison. ("Commentaires Therapeutiques," Gubler, Paris, 187.4.)
It may be some comfort to novices to know that the poison will produce less and less effect upon their system. Old bee-keepers like Milularidates, appear almost to thrive upon poison itself. When we first became interested in bees, a sting was quite a formidable thing, the pain being often very intense, and the wound swelling so as sometimes to obstruet our sight. At present, the pain is usually slight, and, if the sting is quickly extracted, no unpleasant consequences ensue, even if no remedies are used. Huish speaks of seeing the bald bead of Bonner, a celebrated practical Apiarist, covered with stings, which seemed to produce upon him no unpleasant effects. The Rev. Mr. Kleine advises beginners to allow themselves to be stung frequently. assuring them that, in two seasons, their system will become accustomed to the poison!
An old English Apiarist advises a person who has been stung, to each another bee as speedily as possible, and make it sting on the same spot. Even an enthusiastic disieiple of Huber might hesitate to venture on such a singular homeopathic remedy ; but, as this Apiarist had stated, what we had verified in our own experience, that the oftener a person is stung the less he suffers from the venom, the writer determined to make trial of his prescription. Allowing a string to remain until it had discharged all of its poison, he compelled another bee to insert its sting, as nearly as possible, in the same spot. He used no remedies of any kind, and had the satisfaction, in his zeal for new discoveries, cf suffering more from the pain and swelling than for years before.
That the bee-keeper becomes inoculated with the poison of the bee, and usually becomes proof against it, is no more to be doubted than the fact that vaccination is a preservative against small-box. The discoveries of Pasteur, for the eureof hydrophobia, are another evidence of the efficiency of inoculation.
The poison of the bee has a beneficial effect as a eure for rheumatism. Numberless cases have been reported where a few sinus have caused the disappearance of this affection.
Bees as Mens of Defense.
**405. "A small corsair, equipped with forty or fifty men, and having on board some bees, purposely taken from a neighboring island, and confined in earthen hives (275 ), was pursued by a Turkish galley. As the latter boarded her, the sailors threw the hives from the masts down into the galley. The earthen hives broke into fragments and the bees dispersed all over the boat. The Turks who had looked on the small corsair with contempt, as an easy prey, did not expect so singular an attack. Finding themselves defenseless against the stings, they were so frightened, that the men of the corsair, who had provided themselves with masks and gloves, took possession of the galley, almost without resistance."**
"Amurat, Emperor of Turkey, having besiegel Alba, and male a breach in the walls, found the breach defended by bees, whose hives had been brought on the ruins. Th" Janissaries, the bravest militia of the Ottoman empire, refused to clear the obstacle."--(Della Roeen, 1790.)
**406**. In the Spring, as soon as the coubs of a live, well filled, can no longer accommodate its teenning population, the bees prepare for enigration, or in other words, for departure with their queen, by building a number of royal-cells (**101**). These cells are begun about the time that the drones make their appearance in the open air; and when the young queens arrive at maturity, the males are usually very numerous (**186**).**
**The swarming of bees is one of the most beautiful sights in the whole compass of rural economy. Although those who use novable-comb hives prefer the artificial multiplication of colonies, it being more profitable, all Apiarists delight in the pleasing excitement of natural swarming.**
Ten thousand shuttles dart along the sky;
As swift through either rise the rushing swarms,
Gay daneing to the beam their sun-bright forms;
High pois'd on buoyant wing, the thoughtful queen,
And soon her far-fetch'd ken discerns below
Wave hcr green leafy ringlets o'er the glade,
Swift as the falcon's sweep, the monarch bands
Her flight abrupt; the following host descends.
**407**. Bees sometimes abandon their hives very early in Spring, or even late in Summer or Fall (**264**). Althoughexhibiting the appearance of natural swarming, they leave, not because the population is so crowded that they wish to form new colonies, but because it is either so small, or the hive so destitute of supplies, that they are driven to desperation. Scanning to have a presentiment that they must perish if they stay, instead of awaiting the sure approach of famine, they sally out to see if they cannot better their condition.
Such desertions should not be mistaken for natural swarming. **108**. The time, when new swarms may be expected, depends, of course, upon the climate, the forwardness of the season, and the strength of the colonies. In our Northern and Middle States, they seldom issue before the latter part of May; and June may there be swarming month. In Texas, on the lower Rio Grande, bees often swarm quite early in Mareh.
Swarming does not always take place in Spring, although this is the usual time for it. Swarms are likely to issue in any locality, whenever the hive is crowded for room, or nearly so, during a good and prolonged honey-harvest. In warn latitudes, it lasts for several months, owing to a continuous flow of honey. Wherever there are two distinct honey crops (705), there are also two swarming seasons, especially along the low lands or river bottons, where Fall pasturage is abundant. Swarms, lived during the forepart of either of these honey seasons, are always the best; having a few weeks of honey crop before them, they have ample time to build comb and fill it with honey and brood; while swarms which are cast during the latter part of either the clover or the Fall harvest, coming as they do, just before a dearth of honey, are unable to build comb and raise brood, and easily perisl, if left to themselves. Thus, a swarm harvested in August, in this latitude, at the opening of the Fall crop, stands better elanees than one harvested in July, at the close of the clover and basswood crop.
First or Primary Swarm.
**109.** The first swarm is almost invariably led off by the old queen, unless she has died from accident or disease, when it is accompanied by one of the young ones reared to supply her loss. There are no signs from which the Apiarist can predict the certain issue of a _first_ swarm. For years, we spent much time in the rain attempt to discover some _infallible_ indications of first swarming; until faets convinced us that there can be no such indications.
**410.** If the weather is unpleasant, or the blossoms yield an insufficient supply of honey, bees often change their minds, and refuse to swarm at all. If, in the swarming season, but few bees leave a strong hive, on a clear, calm, and warm day,when other colonies are busily at work, we may look with great confidence for a swarm, unless the weather prove suddenly unfavorable.
It' the weather is very saltry, a swarm will sometimes issue as early as seven o'clock in the morning; but from ten a. m., to two p. m., is the usual time; and the majority of swarms come off when the sun is within an hour of the meridian. occasionally, a swarm requires out as late as five p. m.; but an old queen is seldom guilty of such an indiscretion.
**411**. We have repeatedly witnessed in our observing-lives (**37.1**) the whole process of swarming. On the day fixed for departure, the queen is very restless, and instead of depositing her eyes in the cells, roams over the combs, and communicates her agitation to the whole colony. The eni-grating bees usually fill themselves with honey, just before their departure; but in one instance, we saw them lay in their supplies more than two hours before they left. A short time before the swarm rises, a few bees may generally be seen sporting in the air, with their heads turned always to the live; and they occasionally fly in and out, as though impatient for the important event to take place. At length, a violent agitation commenees in the live; the bees appear almost frantic, whirling around in circles continually enlarging, like those made by a stone thrown into still water, until, at last, the whole live is in a state of the greatest ferment, and the bees, rushing impetuously to the entrance. pour forth in one steady stream. Not a bee looks behind, but each pushes straight ahead, as though flying "for clear life," or urged ou by some invisible power, in its headlong career.
**412**. Often, the queen does not come out until many have left; and she is sometimes so heavy, from the number of eggs in her ovaries, that she falls to the ground, incapable of rising with her colony into the air (**40**). The bees soon miss her, and a very interesting scene may now be witnessed. Diligent search is at once made for their lost mother; the swarm scattering in all directions, so that the leaves of the adjoining trees and bushes are often covered almost as quickly with anxious polymers, as with drops of rain after a contiguous shower. If she cannot be found, they commonly return to the old hive, in from five to fifteen minutes.
**413.** The ringing of bells and beating of kettles and flying-pans to cause swarms to settle, is probably not a whit more efficacious, than the hideous noises of some savage tribes, who, imagining that the sun, in an eclipse, has been swallowed by an enormous dragon, resort to such means to coupel his snakeship to disgorge their favorite luninary.
Many who have never paretieed "tanging," have never had a swarm leave without settling. Still, as one of the "country sounds," and as a relie of the olden-times, even the most. matter-of-fact bee-man can readily excuse the enthusiasm of that pleasant writer in the _London Quarterly Review_, who discourses as follows:
"Some fine, warm morning in May or June, the whole atmosphere seems alive with thousands of bees, whirling and buzzing, passing and repassing, wheeling about in rapid eireles, like a group of maddened baconals. Out runs the good housewife, with frying-pan and key--the orthodox instruments for ringing --and never ceases her rough music, till the bees have settled. This eustom, as old as the birth of Jupiter, is one of the most pleasing and exciting of the countryman's life; and there is an old colored print of bee-ringing still occasionally met with on the walls of a country-inn, that has charms for us, and makes us think of bright, sunny weather in the deraiest November day. Whether, as Aristotle says, it affects them through pleasure or fear, or whether, indeed, they hear it at all, is still as uucertain as that philosopher left it; but we can wish no better luck to every bee-master that neglects the tradition, than that he may lose every swarm for which he omits to raise this time-honored concert."
**414.** The queen sometimes alights first, and sometimes joins the cluster after it has begun to form. The bees do not usually settle, unless she is with them; and when they do, and then disperse, it is frequently the case that, after first rising with then, she has fallen, from weakness, into some spot where she is unnotieed by the bees.
Perceiving a hire in the act of swarming, the writer on two occasions, contracted the entrance, to secure the queen when she should make her appearance. In each case, at least one-third of the bees came out before she joined them. As soon as the swarm ceased searching for her, and were returning to the parent-hive, he placed her, with her wings clipped, on a limb of a small evergreen tree, when she crawled to the very top of the limb, as if for the express purpose of making herself as conspicuous as possible. The few bees, that first noticed her, instead of alighting, darted rapidly to their companions; in a few seconds, the whole colony was apprised of her presence, and flying in a dense cloud, began quietly to cluster around her. Bees, when on the wing, inter-communicate with such surprising rapidity, that telegraphic signals are seareely more instantaneous.
**415.** That bees send out _scouts_ to seek a suitable abode, admits of no serious question. Swarms have been traced directly to their new home, in an air-line flight, from the place where they clustered after alighting. Now this precision of flight to an unknown home, would plainly be impossible, if some of their number, by previous explorations, were not competent to act as guides to the rest. The sight of bees for distant objects is so wonderfully acute, that, after rising to a sufficient elevation, they can see, at the distance of several miles, any prominent objects in the vicinity of their intended anode. (**13**-**14**.)
Whether bees send out seouts _before_ or _after_ swarming, may admit of more question, but these scouts are usually absent for an hour or more, after the alighting of the swarm.
It is probable that most of the seouts are sent during the alighting; otherwise how could they know where the swarm alighted, so as to come back to it?
The necessity for scouts or explorers seems to be unquestionable, unless we admit that bees have the facility of flying in an
"_air line?"_ to a hollow tree, which they have never seen, and.. which may be the only one among thousands where they can find a suitable abode.
These views are confirmed by the repeated instances in which a few bees have been noticed inquisitively prying into a hole in a hollow tree, or the conucle of a building, and have, before long, been followed by a whole colony.
About fifty yards from our home apiary, there was a large hollow oak tree, which we called "The Squirrel's Oak," because every season it sheltered a family of these pretty animals. One Sunmer we noticed for several days some bees flying, in and out of a hole, in one of its largest limbs. It seemed to us that they were cleaning the hollow, and we supposed that a swarm had taken possession of it. A change in the weather having taken place, the swarming preparations were discontinued, and we never again noticed any bees around the limb. The tree' was cut down the following Winter, and no trace of comb was found in the hollow. It proved conclusively that the bees we had seen were seouts in search of a lodging.
**416.** The swarm sometimes remains until the next day, where bees have clustered in leaving the hive, and instances are not unfrequent of a more protracted delay.
If the weather is hot when they first cluster, and the sun shines directly upon them, they will often leave before they have found a suitable habitation. Sometimes the queen of emigrating bees, being heavy with eggs, unaceustomed to fly, is compelled to alight, before she can reach their intended home. 'Queens under such circumstances, are occasionally unwilling to take wing again, and the poor bees sometimes attempt to lay the foundations of their colony on fence-rails, hay-stacks, or other unsuitable places.
Mr. Wagner once knew a swarm of bees to lodge under the lowermost limb of an isolated oak-tree, in a corn-field. It was not discovered until the corn was harvested, in September. Those who found it, mistook it for a recent swarm, and in brushing it down to hive it, broke off three pieces of comb, each about eight inches square. Mr. Henry M. Zollickoffer, of Philadelphia, informed us that he knew a swarm (i) settle on a willow-tree in that city, in a lot owned by the Pennsylvania Hospital; it remained there for some time, and the boys pelted it with stones, to get possession of its comb and honey.
If the apiary is located in the wonks, and the bees are allowed to swarm, they may settle on high trees, and the beesmaster, unless some special precautions are used, will lose much time in hiving bis swarms.
**117**. Having noticed that swarming bees will almost always alight wherever they see others clustered, we found that they can be determined to some _selected_ slot by an old black hat, or even a mullen-stalk, which, when colored black, can hardly be distinguished, at a distance, from a clustering swarm. A black woolen stoeking or piece of cloth, fastened to a shady limb, or to a pole, in plain sight of the hives, and where the bees can be most conveniently lived, would answer as good a purpose. Swarms are not only attracted by the bee-like color of such objects, but are more readily induced to alight upon them, if they furnish something to which they can easily eling, the better to support their grape-like clusters.
Still better than the above, a frame of dry comb, as dark as possible, will often attract the bees and cause them to cluster. None of these devices however are infallible; hence the advisability of locating an apiary among low trees or bushes, or in an orchard, if possible.
When no trees or bushes are to be found, and no settling place has been provided, they will settle wherever the queen may happen to alight, on a grape-vine, on weeks, on the ground, on the corner of a building, etc.
**11S**. It will inspire the inexperienced Apiarist with more confidence, to remember that almost all the bees in a swarm are in a very peaceable mood, having filled themselves with honey before leaving the parent-stock (**3S0**).** Yet there are, in nearly every swarm, a few bees that have either joined from a neighboring hive, or have not filled their honey-saek completely before leaving. These bees are liable to get angry, when the swarm is harvested. So, if the Apiarist is timid, or suffers severely from the sting of a bee, he should, by all means, furnish himself with the protection of a bee-veil (**3S6**). The use of a smoker (**3S2**), is also advisable, both in preventing the bees from stinging and in helping to drive them into the hive; but it must not be used plentifully, as it might cause the bees to abseond, or to return to the clustering spot.
**419**. _A new swarm should be hived as soon as the bees have quietly clustered around their queen;_ although there is no necessity for the headlong haste practiced by some, which increases their liability to be stung. Those who show so little self-possession, must not be surprised if they are stung by the bees of other hives; which, instead of being gorged with honey, are on the alert, and very naturally mistake the object of such exeited demonstrations. The fact that the bees have clustered, makes it almost certain that, unless the weather is very hot, or they are exposed to the burning heat of the sun, _they will not leave for at least one or two hours._ All convenient dispatch, however, should be used in living a swarm, lest the scouts have time to return,\(-\)which will entice them to go,\(-\)or lest other colonies issue, and attempt to add themselves to it.