BEE-spoke-data/bees-v0 huggingface dataset:
Peep, pe peep, pe peep, cries one queen ;- Peep, pe peep, pe peep, answers another in a higher key. One cry is that of the reigning queen, the other is that of a full grown queen bee, still confined in her cell, where she is kept by the worker bees a close prisoner; for if she had her will, and was allowed to come forth before the moment of swarming, either she, or the reigning queen, would fall in single combat. When this noise is heard in a strong stock, look out for some more swarms. A bee master who has only been used to the English rate of increase, will be perfectly surprised, and as it were overwhelmed, with the multitude of swarms which will issue from his hives in one season, after his apiary has been established a year or two. So he does not get his hives ready in time, and he is often in great straits in swarming time. I will give one amusing instance:--A carpenter who has been many years in New Zealand, and is perhaps in consequence very procrastinating in his habits, was surprised by his first swarm rising when he did not expect it. He had no hive at all ready. Fortunately he had heard that the queen may be captured, and that when she is so, the swarm will not go away; so he poked about with his finger among the cluster till he found the queen; caught her, and put her in a tumbler to keep her safe. He then went to his house, thinking it time to set about making a bee box. It was a very hot day: so he left his door open. He had not been long at work when he saw the whole swarm follow him into his house where his bench stood, upon one end of which they clustered, while he was hard at work with hammer, plane, and saw, at the other. It seemed as though they had come in to see what he was about, while he was so long in bringing them a hive; and they found, as many customers had done before, that his work was not begun, when it ought to have been finished. However, he tried to make up for lost time, and hoped they would not be in a hurry to go. Just half an hour, and he would be ready for them. He never plied his hammer so fast before. He had not even time to whistle a tune : so, whilst he worked the bees sang. They waited quietly, expecting their future home ; were safely housed in it as soon as finished, and were doing well when I last saw them, as I trust he may be doing ;--the first carpenter who ever built a house with so many homeless tenants watching its completion. Further increase will no longer be an object with him. What he will then desire is to get as much honey as possible from his existing stock. How this is to be done, I purpose to tell you when I speak of bee produce. I forgot to mention above that there is one state of the weather which often induces a swarm to rise later in the afternoon than two o'clock. When it has been raining in the morning, and for several days before, and then the sun bursts out, and a hot saltry evening succeeds ; on such an even as this, a swarm which has been for some days baulked by the weather will often rise as late as four o'clock : have your eyes well open then, as indeed you always should amongst your bees, either to do something for them, or to learn something from them.
V. Taking Hone.--"The proof of the pudding is in the eating," says the old proverb, and most people prize their bees chiefly for "_the sweet food they make._" I fear there are not many in this land who would take any pains with them, but for the return which they expect. But there are these odds: --a plum pudding is made to be eaten, and has nothing particularly beautiful about it except its taste and its smell; whilst I, for one, should still love my bees even if I never got an ounce of honey from them. I should still study their wonderful instinct and habits: I should still think their buzzing the sweetest music, and love to bask at the door of their hives whenever pain of body or grief of mind makes their soft hum a soothing charm.
Besides, there is another good which bees do. They glory indeed in making honey, as Virgil says; but while they rob the flowers, they give full payment for what they take. They fertilize the yet half formed seeds, and help on the multiplication of those flowers from which they get their greatest supply.
To give an instance: Every one who keeps bees near clover paddocks, knows how rapidly his hives increase in weight when the white clover is in flower; indeed the bees gather more honey, and of a better 'quality, from this plant, than any other I know.
But what do they in return? Before bees were brought into this land, the white clover did not seed at all, or very scantily. Every bushel sown was brought from England at a heavy cost, and at great risk of being useless when it arrived.
But now, as much can be gathered in the country as is wanted; and this being fresh, is certain to grow: so that every one who has some paddocks well and carefully laid down, free from weeds and other plants, may get sufficient seed for his own use, and have a surplus to dispose of to his neighbours.
Every one, too, who has an orchard, will find his advantage in having a hive of bees near. The difference in the yield of a tree before and after it gets this help is very remarkable; so that it seems to me that flowers are furnished with nectaries from which honey is secreted, not so much that it may be gathered for the use of man, as that the bees, when busy rifling the hidden sweets, may aid in fertilizing the seeds of that flower from which they increase their store.
I have said so much before I give you my lesson in honey taking, that you may look upon your bees, not as a bear might, with an eye to the honey only, but with a mind able to admire their wonderful economy, as well as thankful for the benefit you derive from them.
Now, Mr. Bruin has a terrible taste for honey ; and is the most merciless bee destroyer I know : defended by his thick and shaggy coat, he cares nothing for their stings : he has only one or two vulnerable parts, his nose and his eyes. When they attack him there, he coolly brushes them off, and continues his work of destruction. What cares he for a sting or two, whilst busy in satisfying his glutton appetite. As soon as he has laid bare the combs (and it is on bees that have lodged in a hollow tree that he usually makes his attacks) he gobbles them up, honey combs, brood combs, grubs, bees, and all; never pausing in his feast till he has utterly destroyed the work of thousands of creatures as clever as himself, and the lives of the workers too.
Now, I don't blame the bear, not I ; he knows no better ; he only follows his nature. But I do blame those men who might know better, and treat their bees in a bearish fashion.
There is no form of have from which it is impossible to take honey without killing the bees. I said in a former letter bees will make honey anywhere, even in an old watering pot. The form and construction of the hives is of importance, because purer honey, and in greater quantities, may be taken from those of a good construction than from those that are faulty.
But I will begin with those of the most common kind, and after speaking of the method to be followed with them, I will go on to give directions for those which I would recommend you to use. In England, the straw hive is the common sort, and in almost universal use ; but here there is a more common sort still. But few people in this country know how to make straw hives. I hope they will soon learn : at all events the natives will supply as many as they choose to buy, or teach the unhandy pakeha how to do the stitch.
The still commoner sort that I have mentioned is an old candle box. Bee keepers here do not expect their bees to swarm so fast as they are found to do. They do not prepare a sufficient stock of hives during the winter ; so that when the swarming season comes, they are taken quite by surprise, and rather than lose their bees, put them into the first box that comes to hand.
Bees are wax chandlers in a very large way of business, and it is but scurry treatment to give them no better lodging in which to carry on their trade than a box which has been lately filled with common tallows ; but yet the honey will have no taint. A box like this will often contain between fifty and sixty pounds, which the owner might take for his own use, if he did but know how.
I have often heard this complaint, that people get plenty of swarms from their bees, but no honey : and when I went to look at their hives, I found plenty waiting to be taken.
To do the thing well, some little preparation must be made. A surgeon, when about to perform an operation, gets all his instruments ready, lays them out carefully, that he may know where to put his hand on each, and not have them to seek at the moment when he wants them to use ; he also has his assistants, in whose steadiness he can trust, and in their knowledge too, as far as it goes. A surgeon's tools cost a good round sum ; but the only instruments wanted by the honey taker, are, a knife, made to the following pattern--it is a rod of iron about two feet long, with a square blade at one end, sharp at the bottom and side, and a lancet shaped blade at the other, an inch and a half long, and a quarter of an inch or less over: a bunch of feathers : a basin of water to keep your hands free from honey : and a roll of linen rags, in order that you may be able to blow some smoke, as wanted, into the hive.
In Germany, where I first saw the method of taking honey in practice, almost every one, from the highest to the lowest, has a tobacco pipe hanging at his button hole. And this their pet instrument is universally used as the bee smoker. It does very well ; but as I hope many a New Zealand lady will keep bees, and learn to take honey too, she may be glad to hear that a smoker can be made quite as efficient, and more to her taste, than the shocking pipe.
The most complete form is this :--Have a little tin box made two inches each way, put together with hard solder, so that it may not give with the heat which it will have to bear. A pipe should be soldered into the bottom of the box, and fit tightly into a pair of bellows. Out of the lid, another pipe should come to carry the smoke into the hive. The best kind of bellows are the patent circular bellows; for they keep up a continuous stream of air, and the bottom of the box itself may be fitted into their mouth. This is nearly the same thing as gardeners use for fumigating their choice plants ; and as gardening and bee keeping are twin sisters, many a pair of fumigating bellows may be made to do double duty. But any kind of bellows will do, if the smoking box be carefully fitted into the nozzle.
The linen rags must be quite dry. I find it best to roll them up loosely in the shape of a sausage, and then cut them into lengths of an inch and a half, so that they may go easily into the box. Get the slice of rag well might with a smouldering fire (not flaming), and then put it into the box, with the lighted end towards the bellows. It is rolled loosely together, that the air may pass freely through it. When the rags are alight, give the bellows to one of your assistants, whose business it should be to keep them so, by giving every now and then a little puff, so as to be able to put the smoker into your hand whenever you want it, ready for instant use. Another of your assistants should in like manner be appointed knight of the feathers, and a third have charge of the comb knife, so that either may be put into your hand directly you call for it.
If you cannot command so many pair of willing hands, have a spare table by you, on which to lay down your different tools, that you may know where to put your hand on them as wanted. No one but your assistants should come near you whilst you are operating. As many of the uninitiated as please should be welcome to witness any operation of the experienced bee master ; but they should keep at a respectful distance.
I do not advise you to put on any bee dress, such as you will find recommended in many old bee books. Masks, veils, thick worsted shawls, stockings and gloves of the same material, are all spoken of; so that one of these old bee masters must have looked like Mr. Bruin when full dressed. This would be all very well, if you were to begin your operations in his violent way. But I shall show you how to take away from your bees all desire to sting; and you, I trust, have no intention of hurting them, which is the only thing which would rekindle their angry feelings. Least of all should you put on gloves with the idea of protecting your fingers from the sting. A man might as well try to play the fiddle with his hands muffled up; for the success of all bee operations mainly depends upon delicacy and softness of touch. You may tickle your bees, and they will rather be pleased than otherwise; but if you press them roughly, they will sting: if you crush one, the peculiar odour which arises from the bruised carcase has a very irritating effect on all his brethren; and they prepare to avenge his death, though with the certain loss of their own lives.
One precaution alone I recommend: Tie your trousers lightly round your ancles with a piece of string (if knee breeches and gaiters are your common wear, so much the better; you want no extra dressing); for such bees as fall on the ground will often crawl up the operator's leg, and when pressed between his clothes and flesh, sting him in self defence. A lady's dress I cannot pretend to regulate.
And now for the time fit for the operation: It should be the middle of a sunshiny calm day, between eleven and twelve, when the number of workers who are abroad is greatest; you will so be in less danger of crushing a number of bees as you cut out the combs; besides, if it is later, such bees as may be daubed with honey will not have time to get themselves set to rights by their fellows. In very hot weather take your honey still earlier in the day; for the noontide heat makes the wax so soft, that it is difficult to handle the combs without spoiling them. A damp, cold day, or one when showers may be expected, should not be chosen, as those bees which fall on to the ground will be chilled, and unable to rise again to their hive, and so will perish miserably; and I am sure that you would sooner put off your operations, even though you were just about to begin, than risk being the cause of such a result.
So much for the needful preparation, and for the hour of the day to be chosen. But some of my pupils may say, how am I to know when my bees have honey to spare? If they are in hives of the candle box construction, you cannot look in upon them as you may in properly made boxes, which are furnished with windows. But you have their weight to guide you. It is a very good plan to weigh each of your hives and bottom boards before you put bees into them. Mark the weight on the outside, and then simple subtraction will at any time give you the weight of the contents. Even if you have not as yet taken this precaution, you may give a tolerable guess by lifting it a little in your hand, bottom board and all, just before sandown.
In the autumn and winter, when the breeding season is over, the weight of the box will give you the actual weight of honey and comb more nearly than in spring and summer. In the latter seasons, a great part of a heavy hive is filled with brood; a comb from which the young bees are just about to issue forth, is nearly as heavy as a piece of honey comb of the same size: so do not in the summer expect a large quantity of honey from your candle box, though it may be almost as heavy as when full of its original contents. But I will not any longer delay to give you the method of taking honey. I will reserve what I have to say about the seasons when the greatest quantity may be taken in different parts of this land.
I. When all is ready, blow a few puffs of smoke into the doorway of the hive which you are going to take honey from. If you turn up the hive without so doing, the sentinel bees will most likely fly up into your face ; and if you do not take it quietly, you may chance to be stung. The smoke drives the sentinels up amongst the combs, and deprives the whole swarm of its combativeness. How it affects that organ, I do not pretend to say ; but so it is. Have an empty hive ready to put down in the exact spot on which the full hive is standing, in order that the bees who are not at work may have some home to go into as they return. They will be surprised, indeed, at finding no comb in it--no cells in which to deposit their loads : you will see them running about in great anxiety ; but as the numbers increase, they will gradually cluster inside ; more readily, if you put a single comb in the hive to attract them, and remain tolerably quiet till you have done your work, and are ready to return them to their own home. This substitution of the empty hive for the full one is of great importance, as it gives the homeward bound bees a house of refuge, and prevents their straying into neighbouring hives, where they are instantaneously apprehended, and put to death. Then turn up the hive, taking particular care to turn the combs in their own planes, as I told you before in my second letter : place the hive gently down on a table. If the box is not all full of comb, \(\Downarrow\)begin to cut out as much as the bees can spare at the side where the vacant space is; because it is easier to drive the bees from this end of the box, than from the other. Do this with a few puffs of smoke, and as soon as the bees have left the first comb quite clear, cut it from the top of the box by means of the lancet shaped bee knife, which is made just long enough to cut through the combs. Don't let the comb fall down in the box, but support it with one hand; and when it is quite free, lift it gently out, letting it lie on your hand with the side downwards, which is quite free from bees, and brush off with the feathers into the hive any stragglers which may be remaining on the upper side. A good deal of dexterity is required in handling so heavy, and yet so fragile, a thing as a piece of virgin honey comb full of honey ; and yet such is the strength of the form made use of, that it is possible to lift a full comb without damaging a single cell. The art seems to be in spreading your fingers as much as possible, in order to support the comb in many different parts. If the thumb and finger alone of a clumsy hand are used to _seize_ a comb, and lift it out of the box, they will meet in the middle, and make a great wound in the honey comb, without getting it out. Repeat this, and you will soon make a complete mess of the most lovely comb. It will be reduced to one great man. So remember, you must handle the combs tenderly, as though you loved them, and as though they had feeling.
By the aid of the bee knife, honey may be taken in the same manner from a common straw hive, if made of a proper shape. Those which are straight sided, and have a conical top rising to a point, are the very worst pattern. The purest honey is deposited in the very crown of the hive, which should be nearly flat, that each comb may be as nearly square as possible : besides, the bee knife will not work to advantage in a hive of this shape ; a large piece of comb will always be left in the top : whilst in a box, or flat topped straw hive, it will make clean work. Those also which are contracted at the bottom are very difficult to get honey from. They are made so, I believe, from a mistaken idea of giving support to the combs. But trust your bees to know how to fasten their combs securely to the top of a hive. They are no bunglers, and make sure work of it. It is utterly impossible to get a comb out of one of these bungling hives, without previously cutting it down the middle ; and every such cut spills honey, and danbs your bees. Cross sticks are equally pernicious. Many persons insist on putting them into their hives from the same mistaken idea of supporting the combs. The advocates of this skewering system will also tell you that they are useful for a new swarm to hang upon ; but it is no such thing. A new swarm hangs from the very top of the hive, and from live ladders, as it were, of their own bodies, up which the labourers mount without needing the cross sticks. Whenever I am asked to take honey from a straw hive which is fitted with 'these cross sticks, I always pull them out, which may be done by twisting them round and round, if any of the skewer projects through the outside ; I then leave the bees to repair the damage, and lick up the honey which is unavoidably spilt, and then next day proceed with the operation.
In describing the wooden boxes which I recommended in my second letter, I said that their chief advantage was in the ease with which honey may be taken from them. When a top box is quite full, and the cells sealed over, remove the cover, and blow some smoke with the fumigating bellows down through the bars now exposed. When the greater part of the bees have gone into the lower boxes, remove the top one steadily on to your operation table. If it is quite full of pure virgin honey, and you wish to keep it until you use it, you may get rid of the few bees which linger about their stores, by removing it a short distance from the hive; cover it over with thick cloths, so as to darken it entirely; prop up one side of the hive, so as to leave free exit to the remaining bees. They will naturally come to the light, and fly straight home to their parent hive, so that in a short time you will be left in undisputed possession of your spoil. If the bees cling obstnately to the box which you have removed, you may suspect that the queen is there. You must then cut out the combs one by one, driving them out of the way of your bee knife by your smoking bellows, and taking care not to crush any of them. When you have got to the last comb, you will find all the bees collected about it, and on the side of the box. Smoke the bees off this comb, remove it, and then shake all the bees with a smart blow on a broad board--a japanned tea tray does very well. Holdit close to the mouth of the parent hive, and you will see what I think is, next to swarming, the most beautiful sight which falls in the way of a bee practitioner. Gently tap the under part of the tea tray; the bees will not take wing as you might expect; the noise will only rouse them from their half torpid state; and as at beat of drum, they will march up in straight lines to the mouth of their hive, which they will enter, making the same buzing noise with their wings which they do when swarming. Now is the time to keep a look out for the queen. You may often see her returning in triumph to her royal residence in the midst of her attendants. I was perfectly amazed at the order and regularity which the bees keep under these circumstances, when I first accidentally hit on this method of returning the bees to their hive. And I have since delighted very many people with the sight. It must be seen to be credited.
If you find that the box which you remove from the stock has some brood in it, cut out the combs till you come to those which are thus filled, and then return the box to its own place. I never return drone comb, which you may know by the cells being of a larger size; for there is no lack of these non-producers, but terrible consumers, in every large apiary, during the breeding season; but keep them to feed up young chickens or turkeys, who relish them highly. Returning a box with some brood comb in it to its own position has this good effect, that it induces the bees to take immediate possession of the box so returned. They cluster upon the broad comb, and straightway proceed to fill the vacant space with honey comb. Even if there is no brood to return, I generally tempt the bees to re-enter the top box by placing in it a piece of honey comb. And here is the great advantage of having all your boxes made to the same guage; the bars will then fit all your hives indifferently, and you may transfer one with a piece of comb attached to it from a full hivo to an empty box which you wish the bees to occupy.