28 



THE GUIDE TO NATURE 



experiences that I am about 

 to relate were not uncommon, and were 

 not rarely repeated, on many a warm day 

 in the latter part of May or of June, from 

 thirty-five to forty years or more ago, 

 and at al^out ten o'clock in the morning-. 

 (Perhaps also in some parts of the coun- 

 try at the present time). 



It was swarming time. Memory may 

 be playing a trick, but most of these oc- 



-TiTK i:ees are swarming:" 



currences have taken place in the liarn 

 lot hayfield. While some of the men 

 were loading the hay that had been dried 

 and stacked on the previous afternoon, 

 others were mowing in another part of 

 the field. The oxen and the wagon were 

 near one of the largest haycocks and the 

 wagon was about half loaded. 



Suddenly, unexpected, startling, came 

 a shrill cry from the farmhouse, "The 

 bees arc szcarniiiig!" AMien did a far- 

 mer boy ever hear that high-pitched 

 warning or those magic words, without 

 having his heart leap in anticipation of 

 the joy of the coming contest, and the 



blissful change in his monotonous life? 

 To him it meant another Fourth of July 

 pandemonium. Xever mind if more hav 

 was dried and drying than could possibly 

 be gathered on that day ; no matter if 

 thunderheads were looming ominously 

 above the western woods ; never mind if 

 nearly every hive was well filled and we 

 already had more bees than we knew 

 what to do with, drop everything and re- 

 spond to that far-reaching cry, "The bees 

 are szcaniiiiii^.'" 



Father was the first and foremost in 

 leading the running at swarming time, 

 but each of the other workers came in- 

 for the close second, knowing by the 

 promptness with which he dropped the 

 ]>itchfork and leaped across the field that 

 the conditions were serious. So sudden 

 a movement of course alarmed the oxen 

 and they started to run. John yelled, 

 "Whoa," and even I hesitated in my 

 rapid transit toward the house, but 

 Father shouted, ''Let them go; they will 

 run only to the farther edge of the barn 

 lot, and will be all right there in the 

 shade." I arrived just in time to see the- 



"THE 



ENTIRE ATMOSPHERE SEEMED FULL. 

 OF FLYING PILLOWS." 



