Langstroth on the Hive and the Honey-Bee: A Bee Keeper's Manual — 17 - Ch. 11 The Bee-Moth, And Other Enemies Of Bees. Diseases Of Bees, part 1

CHAPTER XI. THE BEE-MOTH, AND OTHER ENEMIES OF BEES.

DISEASES OF BEES.

Of all the numerous enemies of the honey-bee, the Bee-Moth (Tinea mellonella,) in climates of hot Summers, is by far, the most to be dreaded.

So wide spread and fatal have been its ravages in this country, that thousands have abandoned the cultivation of bees in despair, and in districts which once produced abundant supplies of the purest honey, bee-keeping has gradually dwindled down into a very insignificant pursuit.

Contrivances almost without number, have been devised, to defend the bees against this invidious foe, but still it continues its desolating inroads, almost unchecked, laughing as it were to scorn, at all the so-called "moth-proof" hives, and turning many of the ingenious fixtures designed to entrap or exclude it, into actual aids and comforts in its nefarious designs.

I should feel but little confidence in being able to reinstate bee-keeping in our country, into a certain and profitable pursuit, if I could not show the Apiarian in what way he can safely bid defiance to the pestiferous assaults of this, his most implacable enemy.

I have patiently studied its habits for years, and I am at length able to announce a system of management founded upon the peculiar construction of my hives, which will enable the careful bee-keeper to protect his colonies against the monster.

The CAREFUL bee-keeper, I say: for to pretend that the careless one, can by any contrivance effect this, is "a snare and a delusion;" and no well-informed man, unless he is steeped to the very lips, in fraud and imposture, will ever claim to accomplish any thing of the kind.

The bee-moth infects our Apiaries, just as weeds take possession of a fertile soil; and the negligent bee-keeper will find a "moth-proof" hive, when the sluggard finds a _weed-proof_ soil, and I suspect not until a consummation so devoutly wished for by the slothful has arrived.

Before explaining the means upon which I rely, to circumvent the moth, I will first give a brief description of its habits.

Swammerdam, towards the close of the 17th century, gave a very accurate description of this insect, which was then called by the very expressive name of the "bee-wolf."

He has furnished good drawings of it, in all its changes, from the worm to the perfect moth, together with the peculiar webs or galleries which it constructs and from which the name of Tinea Galleria or gallery moth, has been given to it by some entomologists.

He failed, however, to discriminate between the male and female, which, because they differ so much in size and appearance, he supposed to be two different species of the wax-moth.

It seems to have been a great pest in his time; and even Virgil speaks of the "dirum tineæ genus," the dreadful _offspring_ of the moth; that is the worm.

This destroyer usually makes its appearance about the hives, in April or May; the time of its coming, depending upon the warmth of the climate, or the forwardness of the season.

It is seldom seen on the wing, (unless startled from its lurking place about the hive,) until towards dark, and is evidently, chiefly nocturnal in its habits.

In dark cloudy days, however, I have noticed it on the wing long before sunset, and if several such days follow in succession, the female oppressed with the urgent necessity of laying her eggs, may be seen endeavoring to gain admission to the hives.

The female is much larger than the male, and "her color is deeper and more inclining to a darkish gray, with small spots or blackish streaks on the interior edge of her upper wings."

The color of the male inclines more to a light gray; they might easily be mistaken for different species of moths.

These insects are surprisingly agile, both on foot and on the wing.

The motions of a bee are very slow in comparison.

"They are," says Reaumur, "the most nimble-footed creatures that I know."

"If the approach to the Apiary[21] be observed of a moonlight evening, the moths will be found flying or running round the hives, watching an opportunity to enter, whilst the bees that have to guard the entrances against their intrusion, will be seen acting as vigilant sentinels, performing continual rounds near this important post, extending their antennæ to the utmost, and moving them to the right and left alternately.

Woe to the unfortunate moth that comes within their reach!"

"It is curious," says Huber, "to observe how artfully the moth knows how to profit, to the disadvantage of the bees, which require much light for seeing objects; and the precautions taken by the latter in reconnoitering and expelling so dangerous an enemy."

The entrance of the moth into a hive, and the ravages committed by her progeny, forcibly remind one of the sad havoc which sin often makes of character and happiness, when it finds admission into the human heart, and is allowed to prey unchecked, upon all its most precious treasures;

and he who would not be so enslaved by its power, as to lose all his spiritual life and prosperity, must be constantly on the defensive, and ever on the "watch" against its fatal intrusions.

Only some tiny eggs are deposited by the moth, and they give birth to a very delicate, innocent-looking worm; but let these apparently insignificant creatures once "get the upper hand," and all the fragrance of the honied dome, is soon corrupted by their abominable stench; every thing beautiful and useful, is ruthlessly destroyed; the hum of happy industry is stilled, and at last, nothing is left in the desecrated hive, but a set of ravenous, half famished worms, knotting and writhing around each other, in most loathsome convolutions.

Wax is the proper aliment of the larvæ of the bee-moth: and upon this seemingly indigestible substance, they thrive and fatten.

When obliged to steal their living as best they can, among a powerful stock of bees, they are exposed, during their growth, to many perils, and seldom fare well enough to reach their natural size: but if they are rioting at pleasure, among the full combs of a feeble and discouraged population, they often attain a size and corpulency truly astonishing.

If the bee-keeper wishes to see their innate capabilities fully developed, let him rear a lot for himself among some old combs, and if prizes were offered for fat and full grown worms, he might easily obtain one.

In the course of a few weeks, the larva like that of the silk-worm, stops eating, and begins to think of a suitable place for encasing itself in its silky shroud.

In hives where they reign uncontrolled, this is a work of but little difficulty; almost any place will answer their purpose, and they often pile their cocoons, one on top of another, or join them in long rows together: but in hives strongly guarded by healthy bees, this is a matter not very easily accomplished; and many a worm while it is cautiously prying about, to see where it can find some snug place in which to ensconce itself, is caught by the nape of the neck, and very unceremoniously served with an instant writ of ejection from the hive.

If a hive is thoroughly made, of sound materials, and has no cracks or crevices under which the worm can retreat, it is obliged to leave the interior in search of such a place, and it runs a most dangerous gantlet, as it passes, for this purpose, through the ranks of its enraged foes.

Even in the worm state, however, its motions are exceedingly quick; it can crawl backwards or forwards, and as well one way as another: it can twist round on itself, curl up almost into a knot, and flatten itself out like a pancake!

in short, it is full of stratagems and cunning devices.

If obliged to leave the hive, it gets under any board or concealed crack, spins its cocoon, and patiently awaits its transformation.

In most of the common hives, it is under no necessity of leaving its birth place for this purpose.

It is almost certain to find a crack or flaw into which it can creep, or a small space between the bottom-board and the edges of the hive which rest upon it.

A _very_ small crevice will answer all its purposes.

It enters, by flattening itself out almost as much as though it had been passed under a roller, and as soon as it is safe from the bees, it speedily begins to give its cramped tenement, the requisite proportions.

It is utterly amazing how an insect apparently so feeble, can do this; but it will often gnaw for itself a cavity, even in solid wood, and thus enlarge its retreat, until it has ample room for making its cocoon!

The time when it will break forth into a winged insect, depends entirely upon the degree of heat to which it is exposed.

I have had them spin their cocoons and hatch in a temperature of about 70°, in ten or eleven days, and I have known them to spin so late in the Fall, that they remained all Winter, undeveloped, and did not emerge until the warm weather of the ensuing Spring!

If they are hatched in the hive, they leave it, in order to attend to the business of impregnation.

In the moth state, they do not actually attack the hives, to plunder them of food, although they have a "sweet tooth" in their head, and are easily attracted by the odor of liquid sweets.

The male, having no special business in the hive, usually keeps himself at a safe distance from the bees: but the female, impelled by an irresistible instinct, seeks admission, in order to deposit her eggs where her offspring may gain the readiest access to their natural food.

She carefully explores all the cracks and crevices about the bottom-board, and if she finds a suitable place under them, lays her eggs among the parings of the combs, and other refuse matter which has fallen from the hive.

If she enters a feeble or discouraged stock, where she can act her own pleasure, she will lay her eggs among the combs.

In a hive where she is too closely watched to effect this, she will insert them in the corners, into the soft propolis, or in any place where there are small pieces of wax and bee-bread, which have fallen upon the bottom-board, and which will furnish a temporary place of concealment for her progeny, and also the requisite nourishment, until they have strength and enterprise enough to reach the main combs of the hive, and fortify themselves there.

"As soon as hatched,[22] the worm encloses itself in a case of white silk, which it spins around its body; at first it is like a mere thread, but gradually increases in size, and during its growth, feeds upon the cells around it, for which purpose it has only to put forth its head, and find its wants supplied.

It devours its food with great avidity, and consequently increases so much in bulk, that its gallery soon becomes too short and narrow, and the creature is obliged to thrust itself forward and lengthen the gallery, as well to obtain more room as to procure an additional supply of food.

Its augmented size exposing it to attacks from surrounding foes, the wary insect fortifies its new abode with additional strength and thickness, by blending with the filaments of its silken covering, a mixture of wax and its own excrement, for the external barrier of a new gallery, the _interior_ and partitions of which are lined with a smooth surface of white silk, which admits the occasional movements of the insect, without injury to its delicate (?

) texture.

In performing these operations, the insect might be expected to meet with opposition from the bees, and to be gradually rendered more assailable as it advanced in age.

It never, however, exposes any part but its head and neck, both of which are covered with stout helmets or scales impenetrable to the sting of a bee, as is the composition of the galleries that surround it."

As soon as it has reached its full growth, it seeks in the manner previously described, a secure place for undergoing its changes into a winged insect.

Before describing the way in which I protect my hives from this deadly pest, I shall first show why the bee-moth has so wonderfully increased in numbers in this country, and how the use of patent hives has so powerfully contributed to encourage its ravages.

It ought to be borne in mind that our climate is altogether more propitious to its rapid increase, than that of Great Britain.

Our intensely hot summers develop most rapidly and powerfully, insect life, and those parts of our country where the heat is most protracted and intense, have, as a general thing, suffered most from the devastations of the bee-moth.

The bee is not a native of the American continent; it was first brought here by colonists from Great Britain, and was called by the Indians, the white man's fly.

With the bee, was introduced its natural enemy, created for the special purpose, not of destroying the insect, on whose industry it thrives, and whose extermination would be fatal to the moth itself, but that it might gain its livelihood as best it could in this busy world.

Finding itself in a country whose climate is exceedingly propitious to its rapid increase, it has multiplied and increased a thousand fold, until now there is hardly a spot where the bees inhabit, which is not infested by its powerful enemy.

I have often listened to the glowing accounts of the vast supplies of honey obtained by the first settlers, from their bees.

Fifty years ago, the markets in our large cities were much more abundantly supplied than they now are, and it was no uncommon thing to see exposed for sale, large washing-tubs filled with the most beautiful honey.

Various reasons have been assigned for the present depressed state of Apiarian pursuits.

Some imagine that newly settled countries are most favorable for the labors of the bee: others, that we have overstocked our farms, so that the bees cannot find a sufficient supply of food.

That neither of these reasons will account for the change, I shall prove more at length, in my remarks on Honey, and when I discuss the question of overstocking a district with bees.

Others lay all the blame upon the bee-moth, and others still, upon our departure from the good old-fashioned way of managing bees.

That the bee-moth has multiplied most astonishingly, is undoubtedly true.

In many districts, it so superabounds, that the man who should expect to manage his bees with as little care as his father and grandfather bestowed upon them, and yet realize as large profits, would find himself most wofully mistaken.

The old bee-keeper often never looked at his bees after the swarming season, until the time came for appropriating their spoils.

He then carefully "hefted" all his hives so as to be able to judge as well as he could, how much honey they contained.

All which were found to be too light to survive the Winter, he at once condemned; and if any were deficient in bees, or for any other reason, appeared to be of doubtful promise, they were, in like manner, sentenced to the sulphur pit.

A certain number of those containing the largest supplies of honey, were also treated in the same summary way: while the requisite number of the _very best_, were reserved to replenish his stock another season.

If the same system precisely, were now followed, a number of colonies would still perish annually, through the increased devastations of the moth.

The change which has taken place in the circumstances of the bee-keeper, may be illustrated by supposing that when the country was first settled, weeds were almost unknown.

The farmer plants his corn, and then lets it alone, and as there are no weeds to molest it, at the end of the season he harvests a fair crop.

Suppose, however, that in process of time, the weeds begin to spread more and more, until at last, this farmer's son or grandson finds that they entirely choke his corn, and that he cannot, in the old way, obtain a remunerating crop.

Now listen to him, as he gravely informs you that he cannot tell how it is, but corn with him has all "run out."

He manages it precisely as his father or grandfather always managed theirs, but somehow the pestiferous weeds will spring up, and he has next to no crop.

Perhaps you can hardly conceive of such transparent ignorance and stupidity; but it would be difficult to show that it would be one whit greater than that of a large number who keep bees in places where the bee-moth abounds, and who yet imagine that those plans which answered perfectly well fifty or a hundred years ago, when moths were scarce, will answer just as well now.

If however, the old plan had been rigidly adhered to, the ravages of the bee-moth would never have been so great as they now are.

The introduction of _patent hives_ has contributed most powerfully, to fill the land with the devouring pest.

I am perfectly aware that this is a bold assertion, and that it may, at first sight, appear to be very uncourteous, if not unjust, to the many intelligent and ingenious Apiarians, who have devoted much time, and spent large sums of money, in perfecting hives designed to enable the bee-keeper to contend most successfully against his worst enemy.

As I do not wish to treat such persons with even the appearance of disrespect, I shall endeavor to show just how the use of the hives which they have devised, has contributed to undermine the prosperity of the bees.

Many of these hives have valuable properties, and if they were always used in strict accordance with the enlightened directions of those who have invented them, they would undoubtedly be real and substantial improvements over the old box or straw hive, and would greatly aid the bee-keeper in his contest with the moth.

The great difficulty is that they are none of them, able to give him the facilities which alone can make him victorious.

No hive, as I shall soon show, can ever do this, which does not give the complete and easy control of all the combs.

I do not know of a single improved hive which does not aim at entirely doing away with the old-fashioned plan of killing the bees.

Such a practice is denounced as being almost as cruel and silly as to kill a hen for the sake of obtaining her feathers or a few of her eggs.

Now if the Apiarian can be furnished with suitable instructions, and such as he will _practice_, for managing his bees so as to avoid this necessity, then I admit the full force of all the objections which have been urged against it.

I have never read the beautiful verses of the poet Thompson, without feeling all their force: "Ah, see, where robbed and murdered in that pit Lies the still heaving hive!

at evening snatched, Beneath the cloud of guilt-concealing night, And fixed o'er sulphur!

while, not dreaming ill, The happy people, in their waxen cells, Sat tending public cares;

Sudden, the dark oppressive steam ascends, And, used to milder scents, the tender race, By thousands, tumble from their honied dome!

Into a gulf of blue sulphureous flame."

The plain matter of fact however, is, that in our country, as many bees, if not more, die of starvation in their hives, as ever were killed by the fumes of sulphur.

Commend me rather to the humanity of the old-fashioned bee-keeper, who put to a speedy and therefore merciful death, the poor bees which are now, by millions, tortured by slow starvation among their empty combs!

At the present time, (April 1853,) I am almost daily hearing of swarms which have perished in this way, during the last Winter; and I know of only one person who was merciful enough to kill his weak stocks, rather than suffer them to die so cruel a death.

If the use of the common patent hives could only keep the stocks strong in numbers, and if the bee-keepers would always see that they were well supplied with honey, then I admit that to kill the bees would be both cruel and unnecessary.

Such however, are the discouragements and losses necessarily attending the use of any hive which does not give the control of the combs, that there will be few who do not continually find that some of their stocks are too feeble to be worth the labor and expense of attempting to preserve them over Winter.

How many colonies are annually wintered, which are not only of no value to their owner, but are positive nuisances in his Apiary; being so feeble in the Spring, that they are speedily overcome by the moth, and answer only to breed a horde of destroyers to ravage the rest of his Apiary.

The time spent upon them is often as absolutely wasted, as the time devoted to a sick animal incurably diseased, and which can never be of any service, while by nursing it along, its owner incurs the risk of infecting his whole stock with its deadly taint.

If, on the score of kindness, he should shut it up, and let it starve to death, few of us, I imagine, would care to cultivate a very intimate acquaintance with one so extremely original in the exhibition of his humanity!

Ever since the introduction of patent hives, the notion has almost universally prevailed, that stocks must not, under _any_ circumstances, be voluntarily broken up; and hence, instead of Apiaries, filled in the Spring, with strong and healthy stocks of bees, easily able to protect themselves against the bee-moth, and all other enemies, we have multitudes of colonies which, if they had been kept on purpose to furnish food for the worms, could scarcely have answered a more valuable end in encouraging their increase.

The simple truth is, that improved hives, without an improved system of management, have done on the whole more harm than good; in no country have they been so extensively used as in our own, and no where has the moth so completely gained the ascendency.

Just so far as they have discouraged bee-keepers from the old plan of killing off all their weak swarms in the Fall, just so far have they extended "aid and comfort" to the moth, and made the condition of the bee-keeper worse than it was before.

That some of them might be managed so as in all ordinary cases, to give the bees complete protection against their scourge, I do not, for a moment, question; but that they cannot, from the very nature of the case, answer fully in all emergencies, the ends for which they were designed, I shall endeavor to prove and not to assert.

The kind of hives of which I have been speaking, are such as have been devised by intelligent and honest men, practically acquainted with the management of bees: as for many of the hives which have been introduced, they not only afford the Apiarian no assistance against the inroads of the bee-moth, but they are so constructed as positively to aid it in its nefarious designs.

The more they are used, the worse the poor bees are off: just as the more a man uses the lying nostrums of the brazen-faced quack, the further he finds himself from health and vigor.

I once met with an intelligent man who told me that he had paid a considerable sum, to a person who professed to be in possession of many valuable _secrets_ in the management of bees, and who promised, among other things, to impart to him an infallible remedy against the bee-moth.

On the receipt of the money, he very gravely told him that the secret of keeping the moth out of the hive, was to keep the bees strong and vigorous!

A truer declaration he could not have made, but I believe that the bee-keeper felt, notwithstanding, that he had been imposed upon, as outrageously, as a poor man would be, who after paying a quack a large sum of money for an infallible, life-preserving secret, should be turned off with the truism that the secret of living forever, was to keep well!

There is not an intelligent, observing Apiarian who has been in the habit of carefully examining the operations of bees, not only in his own Apiary, but wherever he could find them, who has not seen strong stocks flourishing under almost any conceivable circumstances.

They may be seen in hives of the most miserable construction, unpainted and unprotected, sometimes with large open cracks and clefts extending down their sides, and yet laughing to defiance, the bee-moth, and all other adverse influences.

Almost any thing hollow, in which the bees can establish themselves, and where they have once succeeded in becoming strong, will often be successfully tenanted by them for a series of years.

To see such hives, as they sometimes may be seen, in possession of persons both ignorant and careless, and who hardly know a bee-moth from any other kind of moth, may at first sight well shake the confidence of the inquirer, in the necessity or value of any particular precautions to preserve his hives from the devastations of the moth.

After looking at these powerful stocks in what may be called log-cabin hives, let us examine some in the most costly hives, which have ever been constructed; in what have been called real "Bee-Palaces;" and we shall often find them weak and impoverished, infested and almost devoured by the worms.

Their owner, with books in his hand, and all the newest devices and appliances in the Apiarian line, unable to protect his bees against their enemies, or to account for the reason why some hives seem, like the children of the poor, almost to thrive upon ill-treatment and neglect, while others, like the offspring of the rich and powerful, are feeble and diseased, almost in exact proportion to the means used to guard them against noxious influences, and to minister most lavishly to all their wants.

I once used to be much surprised to hear so many bee-keepers speak of having "good luck," or "bad luck" with their bees; but really as bees are generally managed, success or failure does seem to depend almost entirely upon what the ignorant or superstitious are wont to call "luck."

I shall now try to do what I have never yet seen satisfactorily done by any writer on bees; viz.

: show exactly under what circumstances the bee-moth succeeds in establishing itself in a hive; thus explaining why some stocks flourish in spite of all neglect, while others, in the common hives, fall a prey to the moth, let their owner be as careful as he will, I shall finally show how in suitable hives, with proper precautions, it may always be kept from seriously annoying the bees.

It often happens, when a large number of stocks are kept, that in spite of all precautions, some of them are found in the Spring, so greatly reduced in numbers, that if left to themselves, they are in danger of falling a prey to the devouring moth.

Bees, when in feeble colonies, seem often to lose a portion of their wonted vigilance, and as they have a large quantity of empty comb which they cannot guard, even if they would, the moth enters the hive, and deposits a large number of eggs, and thus before the bees have become sufficiently numerous to protect themselves, the combs are filled with worms, and the destruction of the colony speedily follows.

The ignorant or careless bee-keeper is informed of the ravages which are going on in such a hive, only when its ruin is fully completed, and a cloud of winged pests issues from it, to destroy if they can, the rest of his stocks.

But how, it may be asked, can it be ascertained that a hive is seriously infested with the all-devouring worms?

The aspect of the bees, so discouraged and forlorn, proclaims at once that there is trouble of some kind within.

If the hive be slightly elevated, the bottom-board will be found covered with pieces of bee-bread, &c. mixed with the _excrement of the worms_ which looks almost exactly like fine grains of powder.

As the bees in Spring, clean out their combs, and prepare the cells for the reception of brood, their bottom-board will often be so covered with parings of comb and with small pieces of bee-bread, that the hive may appear to be in danger of being destroyed by the worms.

If, however, none of the _black_ excrement is perceived, the refuse on the bottom-board, like the shavings in a carpenter's shop, are proofs of industry and not the signs of approaching ruin.

It is highly important, however, to keep the bottom-boards clean, and if a piece of zinc be slipt in, (or even an old newspaper,) by removing and cleansing it from time to time, the bees will be greatly assisted in their operations.

As soon as the hive is well filled with bees, this need no longer be done.

Even the most careful and experienced Apiarian will find, too often, that although he is perfectly well aware of the plague that is reigning within, his knowledge can be turned to no good account, the interior of the hive being almost as inaccessible as the interior of the human body.

The way in which I manage, in such cases, is as follows.

Having ascertained, in the Spring, as soon as the bees begin to fly out, that a colony although feeble, has a fertile queen, I take the precaution at once to give it the strength which is indispensable, not merely to its safety, but to its ability for any kind of successful labor.

As a certain number of bees are needed in a hive, in order as well to warm and hatch the thousands of eggs which a healthy queen can lay, as to feed and properly develop the larvæ after they are hatched, I know that a feeble colony must remain feeble for a long time, unless they can at once be supplied with a considerable accession of numbers.

Even if there were no moths in existence to trouble such a hive, it would not be able to rear a large number of bees, until after the best of the honey-harvest had passed away: and then it would become powerful only that its increasing numbers might devour the food which the others had previously stored in the cells.

If the small colony has a considerable number of bees, and is able to cover and warm at least one comb in addition to those containing brood which they already have, I take from one of my strong stocks, a frame containing some three or four thousand or more young bees, which are sealed over in their cells, and are just ready to emerge.

These bees which require no food, and need nothing but warmth to develop them, will, in a few days, hatch in the new hive to which they are given, and thus the requisite number of workers, in the full vigor and energy of youth, will be furnished to the hive, and the discouraged queen, finding at once a suitable number of experienced nurses[23] to take charge of her eggs, deposits them in the proper cells, instead of simply extruding them, to be devoured by the bees.

While bees often attack full grown strangers which are introduced into their hive, they never fail to receive gladly all the brood comb that we choose to give them.

If they are sufficiently numerous, they will always cherish it, and in warm weather, they will protect it, even if it is laid against the outside of their hive!

If the bees in the weak stock, are too much reduced in numbers, to be able to cover the brood comb taken from another hive, I give them this comb with all the old bees that are clustered upon it, and shut up the hive, after supplying them with water, until two or three days have passed away.

By this time, most of the strange bees will have formed an inviolable attachment to their new home, and even if a portion of them should return to the parent hive, a large number of the maturing young will have hatched, to supply their desertion.

A little sugar-water scented with peppermint, may be used to sprinkle the bees, at the time that the comb is introduced, although I have never yet found that they had the least disposition, to quarrel with each other.

The original settlers are only too glad to receive such a valuable accession to their scanty numbers, and the expatriated bees are too-much confounded with their unexpected emigration, to feel any desire for making a disturbance.

If a sufficient increase of numbers has not been furnished by one range of comb, the operation may, in the course of a few days, be repeated.

Instead of leaving the colony to the discouraging feeling that they are in a large, empty and desolate house, a divider should be run down into the hive, and they should be confined to a space which they are able to warm and defend, and the rest of the hive, until they need its additional room, should be carefully shut up against all intruders.

If this operation is judiciously performed, the bees will be powerful in numbers, long before the weather is warm enough to develop the bee-moth, and they will thus be most effectually protected from the hateful pest.

A very simple change in the organization of the bee-moth would have rendered it almost if not quite impossible to protect the bees from its ravages.

If it had been so constituted as to require but a very small amount of heat for its full development, it would have become very numerous early in the Spring, and might then have easily entered the hives and deposited its eggs among the combs, without any let or hindrance; for at this season, not only do the bees at night maintain no guard at the entrance of their hive, but there are large portions of their comb bare of bees, and of course, entirely unprotected.

How does every fact in the history of the bee, when properly investigated, point with unerring certainty to the power, wisdom and goodness, of Him who made it!

If there is reason to apprehend that the combs which are not occupied with brood, contain any of the eggs of the moth, these combs may be removed, and thoroughly smoked with the fumes of burning sulphur; and then, in a few days, after they have been exposed to the fresh air, they may be returned to the hive.

I hope I may be pardoned for feeling not the slightest pity for the unfortunate progeny of the moth, thus unceremoniously destroyed.

Bees, as is well known to every experienced bee-keeper, frequently swarm so often as to expose themselves to great danger of being destroyed by the moth.

After the departure of the after-swarms, the parent colony often contains too few bees to cover and protect their combs from the insidious attacks of their wily enemy.

As a number of weeks must elapse before the brood of the young queen is mature, the colony, for a considerable time, at the season when the moths are very numerous, are constantly diminishing in numbers, and before they can begin to replenish the exhausted hive, the destroyer has made a fatal lodgment.

In my hives, such calamities are easily prevented.

If artificial increase is relied upon for the multiplication of colonies, it can be so conducted as to give the moth next to no chance to fortify itself in the hive.

No colony is ever allowed to have more room than it needs, or more combs than it can cover and protect; and the entrance to the hive may be contracted, if necessary, so that only a single bee can go in and out, at a time, and yet the bees will have, from the ventilators, as much air as they require.

If natural swarming is allowed, after-swarms may be prevented from issuing, by cutting out all the queen cells but one, soon after the first swarm leaves the hive; or if it is desired to have as fast an increase of stocks, as can possibly be obtained from natural swarming, then instead of leaving the combs in the parent hive to be attacked by the moth, a certain portion of them may be taken out, when swarming is over, and given to the second and third swarms, so as to aid in building them up into strong stocks.

But I have not yet spoken of the most fruitful cause of the desolating ravages of the bee-moth.

If a colony has _lost its queen_, and this loss cannot be supplied, it must, as a matter of course, fall a sacrifice to the bee-moth: and I do not hesitate to assert that by far the larger proportion of colonies which are destroyed by it, are destroyed under precisely such circumstances!

Let this be remembered by all who have any thing to do with bees, and let them understand that unless a remedy for the loss of the queen, can be provided, they must constantly expect to see some of their best colonies hopelessly ruined.

The crafty moth, after all, is not so much to blame, as we are apt to imagine; for a colony, once deprived of its queen, and possessing no means of securing another, would certainly perish, even if never attacked by so deadly an enemy; just as the body of an animal, when deprived of life, will speedily go to decay, even if it is not, at once, devoured by ravenous swarms of filthy flies and worms.