HONEY HUNTING IN CEYLON

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 79, Issue 200, 27 August 1935, Page 10

HONEY HUNTING IN CEYLON

1150 Pounds in a Night

|jIAD BEEN A MONTH IN CEYLON when I received my first invitation % “honey hunt/’ And I have no grets that I accepted, says Hilda M. ppenheim, an American writer. In hunting for honey in Ceylon one kes not need the usual paraphernalia innected with taking a hive of tame |es. We carried no masks, no smoke ftnps, no gloves, no heavy muffler our necks to protect our throats, lit we did take long bamboo poles, |/eral coils of rope, buckets and In hunting for honey the attacks {ways take place at nigjit—not in the Jytime. If one decides to raid the (Id bees other than at night, it is ten | one he will get the worst of it, for ten the vfrild bees are fully awake and | their fiercest. My first thrill at honey hunting tine when, with a stout pole supporttg me under my arms, I felt myself fugling some 60 or 70 feet in the air, <en I had to descend the perpendicular x;k which formed the face of the fountain precipice. To do this I had I cling to stout ropes of twisted canes •d jungle creepers. Once I was joined by a companion, *e lit our flares and cautiously probed (e vegetation with our bamboo poles ir the hives that are always hidden fneath. As I probed and listened atently I could discern a dull, low’ tone, almost like the whistling of •e telephone wires one sometimes

hears at home. I had struck a wild bees’ hive. As 1 probed with my pole, the humming became almost a roar. Then, without the least warning, a black mist seemed to emerge from the undergrowth all about me. Franctically I waved my torch to and fro, then up and down, then above my head. Two minutes of this and the bees were cowed. They could not bear the sight of the blazing torch, but made lor safety. With my jackknife 1 proceeded to cut away at the undergrowth so as to make a hole sufficient for me to enter. Once inside the hive, 1 was amazed to find half a dozen huge combs, each about five feet in height and 18 inches wide. They were choked up with the purest honey you ever tasted. To attempt to take the combs as they were was impossible, because of their size, so I quickly scooped out the syrup liquid into my bucket. As fast as I filled it I passed it to my companion outside, who then lowered it to the rest of the party detailed to keep the buckets moving. While I was gathering the honey 1 worked like a Trojan. One has to work quickly lest one’s torch go out and the bees return to the attack. When we reached our mud-walled, windowless hut, which we used only for sleeping and as a shelter from storms, and the honey was collected and weighed we found we were rewarded with almost 11-50 pounds of honey.