Buchanan County Bulletin

Strange Things in Bee-dom.

Several years ago, when the seventeen-year locusts visited us, I noticed one morning in August, that the bees were going to the woods pretty lively. There were no flowers in that direction and the weather was such that no honey-dew could be looked for. I followed them to the mountain, and there, among the rock oak, their busy hum could be heard for a considerable distance. An examination proved that where the locusts had punctured the small branches, a sweet substance exuded, which the bees were collecting in considerable quantities; in fact, some gathered 20 pounds from this source. Its taste was rather unpleasant but the bees wintered well on it.

While the bees were working on this substance one cool morning about sunrise, the fog was stealing softly up the ravine toward my apiary, which is situated at the end of a deep ravine. The workers had then made their first sally. In a moment everything was shrouded in one of those thick fogs that come in a moment and are gone as soon. Just at that moment I came to the scene of action: no bee was visible except now and then one issuing from the hive, but as quickly returning. I heard a strange sound, as it were in the clouds, increasing in volume. It was the sound of the main force of fifty hives-heavy-laden bees hovering above the thick fog in vain trying to find their hives. It was a soul-thrilling sound, only to be heard once in a life-time. Half a dozen swarms on the wing at once is nothing to be compared to it. Like everything else it came to an end. The sun gently lifted the fog, and then such a rush—approach of a sudden shower would never produce as much commotion.

American Bee Journal.