BEE-spoke-data/bees-v0 huggingface dataset:
One of the first things to learn is to know whether a bee is angry or not, by the sounds it makes. You should all know by the hnnof a bee, when it is gathering honey from the heads of clover in the fields, that it has no malice toward any living thing; it is the happy hum of honest industry and contentment. People sometimes jump when a bee sings harmlessly, whereas they should know better; but it is because bees are not in their line of business, and they don't know "'beethalk."
Well, when you go in front of a hive, or approach colonies that are not accustomed to being worked with, one of the sentinels will frequently take wing, and, by an angry and loud buzz, bid you legone. This note is quite unlike that of a bee upon the flowers, or of the ordinary laborer upon the wing; it is in a high key, and the tone, to us, sounds much like that of a scolding woman, and one who will be pretty sure to make her threats good if you do not heed the warning. When one of these bees approaches, you are first to lower your head, or, better still, tip down your hat-brin; for these fellows almost always instinctively aim for the eyes. It will often be satisfied, and go back into its hive if you move away a little; but one should be sure not to give it to understand that you admit yourself a thief, and that it has frightened you. If it grows very threatening, and you are timid, you had better enter some building. We are in the habit of opening the door of the honeyhouse, and asking visitors to go in there, when an angry bee persists in following them. Very many times we can hardly get them to go in as we direct, because they can not see why the bee will not follow them, and thus corner them up a sure prey. We do not know why it is, but a bee very 'eldom ventures to follow one indoors. A single bee seldom does, but a very violens colony of hybrids, when fully aroused, may do so what to do when a single bee follows you about by the hour.
It not unfrequently happens, especially in an apiary where there are many hybrids, that a single bee (of this " cross") will follow you about the apiary for hours, poising itself just before your eyes, making believe to sting. It does not pay to be humane toward such bees. While this offender is holding itself aloft before your face in a menacing manner, smash it between your hands, or, with a stick, give it a smart rap; but take care that you don't miss it, or it will stop its dallying and deliver its sting. In the use of the stick it is quite useless to strike at individual bees on the wing. It is our plan to take up two sticks, orany thing that is handy, say an inch or so wide and a foot or two long. With a couple of these, one in each hand, we make rapid back-and-forth motions like an inverted pendulum in front of the face, working the sticks for a full minute or more. This excites the ire of cross bees, causing them to rush right out at the rapidly moving objects, with the result that they get their heads raped right and left. We have had at various times perhaps a hundred bees buzzing about the head, and killed them all, by the method explained, in less time than it takes to tell it. Such bees, unless killed, will barrass one for perhaps an hour. If there be only a single bee you can kill it by slapping the palms of the hands together; but since you may receive a sting in so doing it is perhaps better to use a paddle having wire cloth through the center to avoid fanning the bees away.
Now to save yourself from a sting.
Sometimes a bee is noticed in the act of inserting its sting in your hand. When the other hand is not holding a frame, nor otherwise engaged, bring it to the rescue by smashing the bee before it succeeds. But where, as is sometimes the case, the other hand is holding a frame, slap against your person the hand which is being attacked. Should you do it aright you both smash the bee and also rub out the sting its owner has succeeded in plunging into the flesh. Never slap the hand directly against yourself, but give it a sort of sliding motion. You will thus accomplish the double purpose. If a bee strikes you in the back of the neck (when you have no veil), and lodges in your hair, smash it by that half-slap and half-rubbing motion. We recommend killing bees as above, when they have actually begun to insert their sting, because they are then, so far as we have been able to observe, determined to accomplish their purpose or die. Whenever possible we prefer to have them do the latter; for a bee if foiled after it has gone so far will carry out the principle most persistently of the little adage, "If at first you don't succeed," etc. See Anger of Beess.
Where no robbing has been going on, one usually gets warning enough, in ample time to take precautions. When colonies are quietly busy during the working season there is but little danger from bees in the air. While working with a hive, bending right over uncovered frames, you are comparatively secure from the bees of other stocks; for unless robbing,bees seem to have no dis position to meddle or hang around their neighbors' homes. This is one reason why bystanders at a little distance are so much more apt to be stung than the apriarst who is right among them.
jerking the hands back.
A good many times, especially where bees seem maliciously inclined, as you proceed to lift the frame three or four will strike against the hands, feinting to sting. The natural tendency, of course, is to jerk back the hand. This is the worst thing that you can do, ensuring a sting; whereas by holding your hands motionless to let the bees see that the new objects are not afraid they will rarely if ever go beyond a pretense of using their weapon. It is certain a large number of stings received by beginners on the hands are attributable to this jerking-back of the hands. The same is true in reference to the face, when unprotected by a evil. Nine-tenths of the bees which make such demonstration will not sting if you control your nerves, letting your tormentors know that you can not be frightened.
to open a hive without being stung.
Have your smoker lighted and in good trim, then set it down near the hive you intend to examine. Now, we never use smoke on bees unless needful to subdue them; for why should we annoy the little fellows quietly going about their household duties unless obliged to? We frequently open hive after hive with no kind of use for smoke at all, and yet we often see bee-keepers drive the poor little chaps down to the bottom of the hive with great volumes of smoke, when they have not shown the least symptom of any disposition but the most friendly. It is true, where the colony is very large, the bees sometimes pile up in the way, on the rablets and ends of the frames, so that it becomes desirable to drive them off for their own safety. This requires very little smoke; and if you are in no great hurry they will clear out of the way if you just put them on the backs gently with a weed or bit of grass. When bees are disposed to be cross, and show fight, you will readily discover it the minute you turn up the first corner of the cloth covering; and if it takes smoke to make them beg parton, give it to them only in small quantities until you are sure more is needed. See Frames, How to Manipulate.
what kind of bees sting worst.
The general decision now is, that pure Italians, t'aneasians, and Carniolians are the most easily handled. See Bees. Not only do they sting less, but as they keep their places on the combs without getting excited* when the hives are opened properly, they are far less likely to get under one's clothing than common bees. A great many stings are received from bees that are in no way badly disposed at all, simply from getting pinched accidentally, while on the person of the beekeeper. The pure races may be handled all day, with no such nishap; but after working among the old-fashioned blacks or hybrids we often find a dozen or more under the coat, in the sleeves, if they can get up, and, worst of all, up the trousers. unl-ss the precaution has been taken to tuck them into the boots or stockings when wearing low shoes. See Veils. This one thing alone would decide one in favor of the Italians, if they were simply equal to the blacks in other respects. I hybrids, as before stated, are worse to sting than either of the races when pure; while Cyprian and Holy-Land bees are so much worse still, that sometimes smoke has no effect on them. See Cyprians, under Italians; also Bees.
Footnote *: Quenclass bees are not as quiet. It may be so-nuse they seldom work with energy, and have therefore no fresh accumulation of stores, which tend so much to put bees on their good behavior. All bees are much worse after a sudden stopping of nectar selection, especially after a hasswood or buckwheat flow.
It may be well to add, that we find many exceptions to these rules; a colony of blacks will sometimes be much easier to handle than one of Italians in the same yard; and the progeny of a queen that we may have every other reason to call pure may be as cross as the worst hybrids. Still further: A very cross colony of bees may be so educated, by careful treatment, as to become very gentle, and _rice versa_. The colony in front of the door of the honey-house was always a gentle one, season after season; the explanation being that they became accustomed to the continual passing and repassing of the bee-keeper in front of their hive, and learned to be dodging past some one almost all the time. On the contrary, those located in the remote corners of the apriary are very apt to sting, if you just come round to take a view of their entrance. Egyptian bees are said to be much worse than any of the other races; and as they do not yield to smoke, as do others, they have been discarded principally on account of this unpleasant feature.+
Footnote : Quenclass bees are not as quiet. It may be so-nuse they seldom work with energy, and have therefore no fresh accumulation of stores, which tend so much to put bees on their good behavior. All bees are much worse after a sudden stopping of nectar selection, especially after a hasswood or buckwheat flow.
ree-sting poison.
When bees are very angry and elevate that portion of their bodies containing the sting,you will often see a tiny drop of some transparent liquid on its point. This liquid is the poison of the bee's sting. It has a sharp, pungent taste; and when thrown in the eyes, as sometimes happens, it has a stinging, aerid feeling, as if it might be a compound of cayenne pepper, onion-juice, and horse-ardish combined; and one who tastes it or gets it in his eyes concludes it is not so strange that such a substance, introduced into the circulation, should produce severe pain. The poison of the bee's sting has been thought to be similar in composition to that of the viper and scorpion; but at the present writing we can not learn that any chemist has ever given us an analysis that would tell us just what the poison is. The virus obtained from ants is called formic acid, and we have wondered whether that from bee's stings is not similar, or the same. The odor from a disturbed ant-hill very much resembles that from a colony of bees when opened up on a cool morning. It seems probably a vegetable acid, derived from the honey and pollen that constitute the food of the bee, since the poison is much more pungent while the bees are working in the fields, accumulating stores largely, than when they are at rest during the winter months. It is generally during basswood-bloom that we get those severe stings which draw the blood and show a large white spot around the wound. how it is done.
It is quite an interesting experiment to let a bee sting you on the hand, and then easily observe the whole performance without disturbing it. We have sometimes, in trying to see how far we could go with an angry colony of bees without the use of smoke, had a lot of them strike the face with a sudden dusk; but as we kept perfectly still they would align without stinging. Now, the slightest movement, even an incautious breath, might result in some pretty severe stinging; but by keeping cool and quiet, carefully waking away, escape becomes possible without any stings at all. Very often a single bee works itself up in a sufficient passion to try to sting; but to commence while standing still, we have always found to be rather difficult work for them; although they sometimes prick slightly, giving one a touch of poison, they seldom sting very severely without taking wing again. To go back : After the bee has penetrated the flesh of your hand, and worked the sting so deeply as to be satisfied, it begins to find itself a prisoner, and to consider meaus of escape. It usually gets smashed at about this stage of proceedings, unless succeessful in tearing the sting--poison-bag and all--from the body; however, if allowed to work quietly it seldom does this, knowing that such a proceeding seriously maims for life, often even kills the bee. \(\Lambda\)fter pulling at the sting to see that it will not come out, it seems to consider the matter a little, and then commences to walk around the sting, in a circle, just as if trying to twist a screw out of a board. If you can be patient and let the bee alone, it may work it out, but in most cases the sting either tears out from the body of the bee or breaks off. We need not tell you that it takes some heroism to submit patiently to all this maneuvering. The temptation is almost un-governable, while experiencing the intense pain, to say, while you give it a clip,"There, you little beggar, take that, if you can not learn better manners in future."
odor of bee-sting poison.
After one bee has stung you on the hand, its use among the bees in the hive will be pretty sure to get you more stings, perhaps due to the odor of virus, unless you are very careful. After one sting has been inflicted, there seems a much greater chance, when about in the aplary, of getting more stings. Mr. Quinby has suggested that this is owing to the smell of the poison, and that the use of smoke will neutralize this scent. We very often blow smoke on the wound. The heat relieves the pain somewhat, and the smoke obscures the bee-sting odor. There is no doubt about that.
the poison of the bee's sting as a remedial agent.
For some years past there have been running in our bee-journals many reports in regard to the agency of bee-stings in the cure of certain forms of diseases, especially chematism. From the facts put forth, any candidi reasoner will have to admit that being stung frequently does have the effect of relieving certain forms of rheumatism, paralysis, and perhaps dropsy.
Numerons accounts have also appeared in the daily papers of various persons affected with rheumatism being greatly relieved by stings, especially on the affected parts. Some others have reported that they could discover no appreciable effect one way or the other.
It has happened at various field day gatherings of bee-keepers that certain parties who read these reports, having suffered severely because of rheumatic pains, presented themselves and asked to have experts cause the bees to sting them on the affected parts. The operator picks a bee off a comb by the wings and presses it against the flesh until the sting is driven into the skin. This has been done on several occasions, and in each ease the parties who came forward for this kind of treatment have said they experienced relief. At the Jenkintown field-day meeting, June 26, 1906, an old gentleman got up on the platform, and, before something like a thousand people, stings were applied to his arm until something like a hundred were imbedded deeply in the flesh. Did it hurt? Oh, yes! But the induced fever of the stings, he said, seemed to bring a warmth and toning of the muscles that was after all a relief; for, strangely enough, this large number of stings did not seem to affect a rheumatic leg or arm as it does a healthy member.
It is a well-known fact that the homeopathic school has for many years used bee-sting poison in a remedy called "aips melifica." There are large wholesale draphouses that have made a business of buying stings taken from live bees, being dropped, as they are extracted, into small vials containing sugar of milk. We have filled orders from our apiaries for bee-stings to the extent of 10,000 in one lot. From a frame of live bees placed in a convenient position a bee is picked up with a pair of broad-nosed tweezers and immediately crushed. This act forces out the sting, when it is immediately grasped by another pair of fine pointed tweezers. These are then given a sharp ray over a wide-nondhed bottle containing sugar of milk. In this way the stings are extracted one by one until the whole number has been pulled. But the operator, after having extracted four or five thousand, experiences a sort of tingling and itching sensation in the face, and finds he has to take a rest of some days before he can renew the work. At other times it happens that he can extract only a few hundred a day when that itching sensation will reappear. This is probably due to the fact that he inhales some of the fumes of the poison, which, entering the lungs, is absorbed by the blood and carried through the system.
At other times a pound or so of bees is put into a large wide-nouthed bottle or jar of alcohol. But the poison of the stings extracted in this way must necessarily be mixed with the other juices of the bees.
Homeopathic physicians have "apis melifica," thus made from bee stings, supplied to them in the form of a liquid. It smells not unlike bee-sting poison, and is often given internally to relieve the pain of rhematism or swellings in general. But it is evident that a hypodermic injection of the bees, given directly on the affected part, would be a hundred times more productive of good results, assuming, of course, that the poison does have a remedial effect.
Does a bee die after losing its sting?
It has been stated that the loss of the sting results in the death of the bee within a very few hours; but this can hardly be true. Colones have at times become so enraged as to sting every thing within reach, even plunging their little juveniles into fence-posts and other inanimate objects, the result being that nearly every bee of the hives in the fracus would lose its sting, and yet these same colonies live and prosper. One correspondent in particular relates the following incident: Through carelessness he allowed a certain one of his colonies to become so infuriated as to sting everybody and every thing within reach. He declared, upon a subsequent examination, that there was severely a bee in that whole colony which did not show unmistakable evidence of having lost its sting in the uproar just mentioned. Now, the singular fact was that these bees actually lived, gathered honey, and prosperol.
That _some_ bees die after losing their sting, may be true; but that they invariably do so is a claim now thoroughly discredited.
smoke not always a preventive of bee-stinos.
There are some colonies that, under some conditions, can not be conquered, even with smoke. If the atmosphere is a little chilly, or immediately after a rain, or if the supply of nectar has suddenly stopped short off, a few colonies may be very hard to handle. While most bees under these conditions will yield to smoke, it seems to infuriate others. The only thing to do is to let them alone for the time being: then the next day or two, when the weather is favorable, blow a little smoke in at the entrance, raise the cover very gently, blow in a few whiffs more, when, presto: the fiends of the day before are as gentle as kittens.
mechanical construction and operation of the sting.
After a bee has stung you, and torn itself away from the sting, you will notice, if you look closely, a bundle of muscles near by and partly enveloping the poisonbag. Well, the curious part of it is that for some considerable time after the sting has been detached from the body of the bee,these muscles will work with a kind of pump-like motion forcing the sting further into the wound, as if they had a conscious existence and burned with desire to wreak vengeance on the party attacked. Nay, further, after the sting has been pulled from the flesh, and thrown away, if it should stick in your clothing so your flesh will come in contact with it, it will commence working again, pull itself into the flesh, and empty the poison into the wound, precisely as if the living bee were itself working it. We have suffered many times from a sting unconnected with any bee. Without precise figures, we should say a sting would hold life enough to give a very painful wound, for fully five minutes, and it may be in some cases even ten minutes.* This phenomenon is wonderful, and we have often, while watching the sting sink into the rim of a felt hat, pondered on that wonderful thing, animal life. Why should that isolated sting behave in this manner, when the bee to which it belonged was perhaps far away, buzzing through the air? Why should this bundle of fibers and muscles behave as if it had a life to throw away? We do not know. This, however, we do know; when you pull a sting from the wound, you should throw it far enough away so that it will not get back on your face or hands, or into your hair, to sting you again.
In giving the following description of a bee-sting, we are indebted to the drawings and description given by J. R. Bledsoe, of Natehez, Mississippi, in the _American Bee Journal_ for August, 1870. We are also indebted to Prof. Cook's excellent Manual.
Under the microscope the sting is found to be a beautifully fashioned and polished instrument, whose delicate taper and finish make a most surprising contrast with any instrument man has been able to produce. In shape it appears to be round ; but it is, in reality, egg - shaped, and is of a dark-red color, but transparent enough to show the hollow running through the center of each of its parts. These probably secure lightness as well as strength.
We give you three views, like letters representing like parts in all. Bear in mind that the sting proper is composed of three parts--the outer shell, or husk, D, and two barbed spears that slide partly inside of it. In Fig. 2 we show you the spears. The barbs are much like those on a common fish-hook; and when the point of one spear, \(\Lambda\), penetrates far enough to get one barb under the skin, the bee has made a hold, and has no difficulty in sinking the sting its whole length into the wound; for the pumping motion at once commenees, and the other spear, B, slides down a little beyond \(\Lambda\), then \(\Lambda\) beyond B, and so on. The manner in which these spears are worked is, as nearly as we can make out, with a pair of something like pump-handles, operated by small but powerful muscles. We have shown you the arrangement of these handles at J and K, Fig. 1, as nearly as we could conjecture what it must be, from watching its workings under the microscope. These muscles will work, at intervals, for some time after the sting has been torn from the bee, as we have explained. They work with sufficient power to send the sting through a felt hat or into a tough buckskin glove. We have often watched the bee while attempting to get its sting started into the hard cuticle on the inside of hand. The spears often run along the surface diagonally, so that you can see how they work down by successive pumps. The hollow in these spears is indicated at G and F, in Figs. 2 and 3; O, O, ducts leading from G and F.
We are not certain as to the real _c_flice of these ducts, O, O, but have sometimes stings.
thought that they were for the purpose of conducting the poison to the wound from the canals G and F, the latter communicating directly with the poison-bag itself. Indeed, Frank Cheshire says they afford the only means of exit for the poison, but Entomologist Snodgrass, of the Bureau of Entomology, says this is a mistake.