"Robbing the Bee Tree" Sensei M.J. Nutter

The year was 1961, and I was seven years old. My parents had moved us back down from Hutchinson Kansas to a small shack on Brushy Creek straight across the creek from the large ridge, known as the “Nutter Ridge”, first homesteaded by my great, great grandfather, Charlie Nutter, a full blooded Crow Indian. It is in the heart of the Missouri Ozarks, not far from where I was born. It would be a time in my life that I would remember for the rest of my days. The summer that followed would be a learning experience that is impossible to find in any class-room. Our cabin was just about two miles up the creek from my grandparent’s homestead, a small hilly farm that had acquired the name, “The Slavens Place” because Slavens was the name of the original homesteader. It was approximately 8 miles below the little town of Eldridge Missouri. A wilderness classroom if ever there was one!

The farms were all surrounded by the creeks, the Brushy, the Woolsie, and the Little Niangua. It was along these creeks that the forest grew big, thick and rich, and nearly untouched by any sign of progress. It would be there in the shade of the big Oaks and Pawpaw trees, that I learned one of the most significant things in the life and culture of the Ozark Hills people. This lesson was how to rob honey from a bee tree.

Robbing a bee tree was usually undertaken in the late evening, when cooling off would force the bees back to the hive, or the early morning hours, before the sun had warmed them up enough to fly off in search of flower nectar; and they were still swarming in the hive.

It was important to catch them gathered together, so you could chase all of them away, and not be attacked in surprise by bees returning with nectar to the hive. The most common time of year was early to late fall, but it could be done with lesser results all summer long.

I remember it like yesterday, the day my grandfather woke me up and told me I could go with the crew to rob the bee tree. “The crew” consisted of my grandfather, my uncle, my father and now, of course, myself. I was thrilled.

Knowing how important it was to most people of the Ozarks, for the breakfast table to be adorned with fresh honey, I had always wanted to be part of the crew that brought in the honey.

This day, we would go out early before breakfast around 5:30 in the morning, in the hopes of catching the bees on the comb before they had set off for the day. With luck, we would be back for breakfast by 7:00 AM. The others in the crew had been up ahead of me by at least an hour, had already had their morning coffee, and had begun to gather the equipment needed for the job of extracting the honey.

This was not the equipment you would normally think of in terms of modern bee hives. It would include a small container of coal-oil, what we call kerosene today, a stick with an old rag of some kind tied around one end of it, to be soaked with the coal-oil, a milk pail, usually a 2-1/2 to 5 gallon metal bucket, with a wire handle, used to put the honeycomb in once it had been removed from the tree, and finally an ax to be used in the event that the bee tree had to be cut down in order to reach the honeycomb.

Today, no self respecting bee keeper would go near a hive with less than a full body suit, and screened face shield, in fear of being stung to death. I always figured the old timers must have been less allergic to bee stings than we all are now'. (These old timers' would probably be arrested for violation of OSHA safety regulations today.)

After all the equipment necessary was gathered together in a bunch, and sitting at the yard gate; after the crew was properly dressed in jackets and hats to knock off the morning chill, and as my grandmother in the kitchen whipping up sour dough biscuits to go with the honey, we were ready to hike off into the woods in search of the bee tree.

It was not known to me at the time, but my grandfather had been scouting the bee trees most of the summer, and knew directly where they were located. This was, as it would take hours to find one, unless you already knew where to go.

In looking for a bee tree, one should look for heavy forest canopy with some dead or partly dead trees that have holes in them. They’ll be located near water, such as a creek, pond or a spring. Like everyone else, the bees need water available to them, to perform their life functions and to make honey and comb.

The sound outside a bee tree is unmistakable, and can be heard from a distance of about 65 feet. Back then, it would have been difficult for me to describe the sound to you, but now, thinking back, I can tell you it was like hearing from a long distance, the sound of a large chain saw engine running at idle speed. That is, unless you get close enough to hear the high-pitched buzzing.

We arrived at a point about 60 yards from the tree, which, in this case, was just on the other side of a shallow point in the creek. We were halted by grand-dad and told to make things ready to assault the tree. I could see from where I was standing that there was a smoky, cloud-like movement emanating from a large hole in the tree that grandpa had pointed out. This cloud of course, was the bees swarming around the hive, and preparing to go out in search of nectar to transform into their liquid gold, as the morning sun had not yet risen high enough for the bees to leave the hive. We had arrived at the perfect time of day as it was light enough to see, yet not bright enough, or warm enough for the bees to leave the hive. My job at this point was to stay on my side of the creek and not get stung by the angry bees.

My uncle opened the can of coal oil can and soaked the rag at the end of the stick in preparation to remove the bees from the hive.

In removing the bees from the hive, there are two important things to remember. First, you must remove them so as not to be attacked and stung, but second, you must not kill them. If you kill the bees, there will be no more honey. This is the reason that a kerosene-soaked rag is ideal for the job. The rag will burn slowly, with a small flame, and produce a large amount of smoke. The smoke will drive away the bees without killing them. They usually will not return for some time after being inundated with smoke. The honey should be extracted and the crew gone by the time they return.

In the event this proves no to be the case, it's good to have the creek near by, so you can run to it and lay down in the water. This will discourage the bees, and also soothe the welts from the stings you do get.

There is of course, a few bees killed by the flames on the burning stick. And a few bees will attack while the flame is being put to the hive hole. This is where the experience of years of trial-and-error comes into play.

Granddad had been doing this for over 40 years, and had approached the problem with various techniques, so he was the one to show us how to drive away the bees without getting stung to death. He would tell us, "In the end, remember the good thing about the honey bee is, once they sting you, they die. At least you won't be stung twice by the same bee".

Somehow, to a 7-year-old, that wasn't much comfort.

Granddad pulled out a wooden kitchen match, lit the rag and took the burning stick to the hive alone, because he had done this so many times before, and he was sure he could do it with the fewest number of stings.

Not one of us argued with his logic.

Approaching the tree slowly, with the flame low to the ground and slightly from the side, he quickly shoved the burning torch into the swarm of bees. They scattered instantly. He quickly placed the stick, which had began to smoke more than burn, inside the hole of the tree, and squatted down to the ground.

Almost instantly, a giant swarm of bees that seemed to blacken the air, charged out of the hole, over his head paying no attention to him, and disappeared into the hazy dimness of the forest. The hive was now secure. The other members of the crew gathered up the pail and the ax and hurried to the tree. This time the tree did not have to be cut down, because the hole was low enough to the ground, and using a near-by dislodged tree-stump to stand on, we could reach the honey. This would allow the bees to return to the tree. In the event that the honey was not reachable, however, the tree would have been chopped down quickly, and without a second thought. Bees are very adaptable, and will settle in the next tree with a large enough space in it for the brood to be accommodated and new comb built.

Collecting the honeycomb from the tree and placing it in the pail is not hard, it is however, messy. The down side of robbing the bee tree is that in taking the comb out before the the larva have hatched greatly reduces the bee population for the next season. On the other hand, I was not concerned with that as much as I was with having to eat the little beggars at the breakfast table. Another drawback might be that you have to dip out the honeycomb with bare hands, which is another reason it is good that they build near the water.

When our pail was full, it contained comb and about 2-1/2 gallons of honey or about $125.00 worth in today's supermarket prices. This is the essence of the phrase, “pure honey”.

A large part of the honeycomb was left behind, and I was told that was so the bees would return and continue to hive in this tree. I confess I know little about raising bees, but then I don't claim to. However, I did become expert in robbing bee trees over the next few summers. I didn't get stung that day, on my first trip to rob a bee tree, but I did get stung between four and eight times on my next 3 attempts. Eventually though, like all other skills that one learns in life, I reached such proficiency at it that I rarely ever received a sting.

The reason this practice was so popular among the Ozarkers of Missouri in the past, is the same reason they used build fiddles from old orange crates. It is a far less expensive way to live and enjoy the finer and more important things of life. We all loved the honey, and it was a lot of fun, besting the danger of attacking bees, and ultimately, robbing the bee tree!

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