VIII.—BEE ENEMIES.

THE toad is a lazy, ugly-looking enemy of the bee. His capabilities, however, are not equal to his will and wants. He squats under the bee landing-board, and seizes every too heavily laden or wing-weary labourer that accidentally drops. This is really very cruel. The bee that has finished the longest journey, and gone through the hardest work, and borne the heat and brunt of the hot, long summer day, takes a rest on a leaf just before entering the hive, or comes short of the door of his home by an inch, and is seized by the unclean monster and devoured. The only way of getting rid of this unfeeling destroyer, who sits "seeking whom he may devour," is to pay a visitto your hives soon after sunrise and an hour before sunset; and on finding him on his wicked watch, seize him by the hind leg and throw him to as great a distance across your hedge as you well can. But if the "bee-master" be a lady—if I may use the phrase—let her empty on him a snuff-box full of strong snuff, and he will reflect a few days before he returns to his old quarters. I give this prescription to ladies, because they do not like to seize the cold-blooded creature and fling him to a respectable distance. How favoured our Irish bee-masters must be in this matter!—they have no toads. I also wish they had no riots. But troubles must come in some shape. Still, I would rather have toads than Belfast navvies and ship-carpenters, and any day I would prefer beingThe TimesBee-master to be Mayor of Belfast.

We are also exempt in this island of ours from the bear, unless one should break loose from the strolling menageries that occasionally infest Tunbridge Wells Common. "The bear," remarks a Yankee, "is the knowingest varmint for finding outa bee-tree in the world. They'll gnaw for days together at the trunk, till they make a hole big enough to get in their paws, and then they'll haul out the honey, bees and all."

The moth is a dangerous enemy. During the day there is no risk of his attacks. But during the night he is, like other thieves and burglars, alive and active. "He loves the darkness rather than the light, because his deeds are evil." As no bee-master can do without sleep, I cannot expect of the most enthusiastic and devoted that he will watch his hives the whole night. The only preventive measure of a mechanical sort I can recommend is that of lessening the entrance door. For this purpose he must apply a zinc slide, such as Mr. Neighbour, in Holborn, will supply, which will keep out the moth and yet let out the bees. Besides, the narrower the door, the more closed up the rank of the bee-sentinels becomes, and the more able they are to repel the death's-head moth, or any similar intruder. But the most vigorous prophylactic measure you can take is to keep yourbees in full strength; and as the time selected by these depredators is the early autumn, you cannot do better than give your bees a cup of good strong ale, boiled up with sugar, which will cheer up your whole family, and enable them to put forth their whole strength in grappling with their enemies. Don't mind teetotal objections. These are all very good for drunkards; but for sober, industrious bees, determined to defend their property, a cup of good ale is as kind as it is useful. TheAcherontia Atropos, or death's-head hawk-moth, not only robs the hive of its honey, but frightens and all but paralyses the bees. Huber gives an account of the exertions of his bees to guard against this formidable foe. It is here quoted from Lardner:—

"When he found his hives attacked and their store of honey pillaged by these depredators, he contracted the opening left for the exit and entrance of the bees to such an extent as, while it allowed them free ingress and egress, it was so small that their plunderers could not pass through it. This was found to be perfectly effectual, and all pillage was thenceforward discontinued in the hives thus protected.

"But it happened that in some of the hives this precaution was not adopted, and here the most wonderful proceeding on the part of the bees took place. Human contrivance was brought into immediate juxtaposition with apiarian ingenuity."The bees of the undefended hives raised a wall across the gate of their city, consisting of a stiff cement made of wax and propolis mixed in a certain proportion. This wall, sometimes carried directly across and sometimes a little behind the door, first completely closed up the entrance; but they pierced in it some openings just large enough to allow two bees to pass each other in their exits and entrances."The little engineers did not follow one invariable plan in these defensive works, but modified them according to circumstances. In some cases a single wall, having small wickets worked through it at certain points, was constructed. In others several walls were erected one within the other, placed parallel to each other, with trenches between them wide enough to allow two bees to pass each other. In each of these parallel walls several openings or wickets were pierced, but so placed as not to correspond in position, so that in entering a bee would have to follow a zigzag course in passing from wicket to wicket. In some cases these walls or curtains werewrought into a series of arcades, but so that the intervening columns of one corresponded to the arcades of the other."The bees never constructed these works of defence without urgent necessity. Thus, in seasons or in localities where the death's-head moth did not prevail, no such expedients were resorted to. Nor were they used against enemies which were open to attack by their sting. The bee, therefore, understands not merely the art of offensive war, and can play the part of the common soldier, but is also a consummate military engineer; and it is not against the death's-head moth alone that it shows itself capable of erecting such defences."

"The bees of the undefended hives raised a wall across the gate of their city, consisting of a stiff cement made of wax and propolis mixed in a certain proportion. This wall, sometimes carried directly across and sometimes a little behind the door, first completely closed up the entrance; but they pierced in it some openings just large enough to allow two bees to pass each other in their exits and entrances.

"The little engineers did not follow one invariable plan in these defensive works, but modified them according to circumstances. In some cases a single wall, having small wickets worked through it at certain points, was constructed. In others several walls were erected one within the other, placed parallel to each other, with trenches between them wide enough to allow two bees to pass each other. In each of these parallel walls several openings or wickets were pierced, but so placed as not to correspond in position, so that in entering a bee would have to follow a zigzag course in passing from wicket to wicket. In some cases these walls or curtains werewrought into a series of arcades, but so that the intervening columns of one corresponded to the arcades of the other.

"The bees never constructed these works of defence without urgent necessity. Thus, in seasons or in localities where the death's-head moth did not prevail, no such expedients were resorted to. Nor were they used against enemies which were open to attack by their sting. The bee, therefore, understands not merely the art of offensive war, and can play the part of the common soldier, but is also a consummate military engineer; and it is not against the death's-head moth alone that it shows itself capable of erecting such defences."

A correspondent ofThe Times, writing on naval guns, who signs himself "Z," alluded to my letters, and drew a happy illustration from them. Let me here inform the Admiralty of a new arm which in extremity—for otherwise it would be the sacrifice of too many bee combatants—may be used in naval warfare. But perhaps Lord Clarence Paget may find some difficulty in securing its adoption. It is related in "The Naturalist's Library:"—

"A small privateer with forty or fifty men, having on board some hives made of earthenware full of bees, was pursued by a Turkish galley manned by five hundred seamen and soldiers. As soon as the latter came alongside, the crew of the privateer mounted the rigging with their hives, and hurled them down on the deck of the galley. The Turks, astonished at this novel mode of warfare, and unable to defend themselves from the stings of the enraged bees, became so terrified that they thought of nothing but how to escape their fury; while the crew of the small vessel, defended by masks and gloves, flew upon their enemies sword in hand, and captured the vessel almost without resistance."

But as many of my recent correspondents inThe Timeswere clergymen, I can recommend to the ministers of Belfast an admirable prescription for the extreme case of a Belfast mob sacking their rectories and manses. The Mayor of Belfast also might take it into his grave consideration, should the citizens, instead of trying to convert each other by arguments or Scripture, have recourse to those fashionable weapons which they lately wielded with so much effect:—

"During the confusion occasioned by a time of war in 1525, a mob of peasants assembling in Hohnstein, inThuringia, attempted to pillage the house of the parish minister, who, having in vain employed all his eloquence to dissuade them from their design, ordered his domestics to fetch his bee-hives and throw them in the middle of this furious mob. The effect was what might be expected; they were immediately put to flight, and happy to escape unstung."

Is not this worthy of the consideration of every peaceful vicar in Belfast?

The spider is also a very mischievous pest in bee-houses. He builds his web in nooks and corners, under the eaves and about the landing-boards, and in the track of the outgoing and incoming bees. When a bee is inveigled, its efforts to extricate its captive limbs serve only to involve it in the toils more hopelessly. I have seen half-a-dozen working-bees thus caught and scooped out by the ravenous jaws of the spider. These webs are constructed so rapidly, that nothing short of daily attention will get rid of them. The best thing is, to have the bee-house as smooth inside as it can be made, with as few projecting edges and points as possible;and in the next place, the daily use of a hard, dry painter's brush will sweep them away as fast as they are made, and probably their weavers with them.

Finally, the worst enemy of bees is man. There is the barbarous, cruel, and ungrateful treatment of the brimstone match. The little innocents have toiled all the summer. They have thrown off a swarm—after the example of the Church of Scotland, which, by way of showing its internal strength, threw off a capital swarm in 1843—they have recovered all the effects of their secession, and amassed abundance for future days. The bee-cide felon, called man, digs a pit, lights four ounces of brimstone inside of it, and deliberately sets fifteen thousand bees, queen and all, above its really and truly infernal fumes—suffocates and burns the unhappy martyrs, and then subscribes to various charities in winter, and calls himself a philanthropist! He ought to be sent to the treadmill. Why does the Society for Preventing Cruelty to Animals take up the case of cab-horses, and overlook the murderedbees? But there are regular inquisitors who do not use sulphur. Those scientific crinkum-crankum hives, from which bees with difficulty get out, and with more difficulty get in, are little purgatories, over which the inquisitors preside. Vivisection is no worse. Yet these men complain that all who advocate simple, easily accessible, and comfortable homes for bees are behind the age, and ignorant of apiarian progress! There are not more than three sorts of hives that are humane. All the others bewilder the brains, weary the legs, and spoil the tempers of the best bees that ever dwelt in a hive. I have no objection whatever to ornamental bee-sheds; but the hives which are the dwelling-places of my bees should be as plain as possible, comfortable, warm, and easy of exit and entrance. A very gifted preacher said it took all his learning to make his sermons plain: it ought to take all a bee-master's to make his hives simple. When I hear a fine preacher expressing himself in grand words and glittering figures, I always feel—I hope not uncharitably—that he cares more about displayinghimself than serving his Master or feeding his flock. Even so I am tempted to think of the ingenious inventors of intricate labyrinths they intend for hives,—that their own fame as apiarians is their chief thought, and the comfort of their bees their last and least consideration. A careless, inattentive bee-master is criminal. He ought to see that his bees have a sufficiency of food at the close of the year. In fine October weather he may place several soup-plates filled with ale and sugar well boiled together, and covered with perforated wooden floats, which sink as the bees sip the contents, opposite his hives. I never find any quarrel ensue, though I have seen thousands of bees from different hives feed together for hours. After October till March no liquid food should be offered; but a stick of barley-sugar may be thrust in now and then. The bees will not descend to taste it in too cold weather, and during a warm day they will enjoy such a dessert. In case of damp within the hive, which, when a glass is retained, may be seen inside of it, select a warm day, remove the glass,and close the aperture in the hive. Wipe the interior of the glass with a linen cloth till perfectly dry, and replace it as before. But a little artificial ventilation on a dry, warm day is still better.

Do not let your bees find by painful experience that their bee-master is their worst enemy.

For an account of wasps, see my letter toThe Times, page 157.

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