248 WILD SPORTS IN THE FAR WEST. 



to our hunt, and in less than half an hour, found the 

 hole where the little laborers were passing in and 

 out. It was in a nearly decayed, not very large post- 

 oak, a tree that prefers moist soils, though it also 

 grows on hills. It bears small and rather sweet 

 acorns ; its wood is very durable, and will remain long 

 in the ground without rotting. I rode hastily back 

 to the house, for we had taken a horse with us for the 

 chase, and returned with a pail, an axe, a knife, and 

 a spoon. The tree soon fell under our blows smoke 

 was made the bees stupefied an opening cut and 

 a most beautiful sight for a bee-hunter presented itself, 

 in a number of well-filled cells. We filled the pail with 

 the best, ate as much as our stomachs would bear, set 

 the tree on fire, that the bees might not lead us astray 

 in our next hunt, and returned to the house. 



As there were several things to be done about the 

 house, we remained at home, cut down firewood, and 

 carried it to the house, ground flour in Slowtrap's 

 excellent steel mill, and when the evening shadows 

 began to lengthen fast, we sat by the fire, and the old 

 fellow, rendered good-humored by the successful bee- 

 hunt, began again with his stones. In the course of 

 the day, we had seen a man pass by with a smooth- 

 bored gun, and as such a thing was a rarity in the 

 backwoods, the conversation turned on this circum- 

 stance, lie said : " I once had a smooth-bored gun, 

 called a musket, and not far from the house where 

 we then lived was a small lake, generally covered with 

 wild fowl. One morning I took the old thumper, for 

 it kicked tremendously, and lounged towards the lake 

 to have a shot. I had not gone flu 1 along the bank, 



