1896 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



531 



of 



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1 deserted bee- 

 ranch was two miles 

 below Mr. Buell's, 

 and Fred directed 

 his boat there first, 

 desiring to examine 

 into its value before 

 seeing Dawson. He found the things about as 

 described by young Fiske. The pile of hives 

 were scattered as stated; the three colonies of 

 bees, the cabin with a few boards off, the door 

 on the ground, and a few shakes off the roof. 

 The hives could be made serviceable by using 

 a few more nails; and, though the frames were 

 scattered, anfl many broken, he was fortunate 

 to find a crate of frame material that had never 

 been used. He counted up fifty hives, and 

 found another three colonies of bees in the 

 bushes. 



Mr. McBurger had evidently fitted up the 

 place for a permanent residence; for, sticking 

 up at one side of the cabin, there was an inch 

 water-pipe. This led off through the weeds, 

 evidently some distance up the river or to a 

 spring. Fred traced it into the bushes some 

 hundred feet away, where he found it dis- 

 jointed. 



After his inventory Fred was anxious to see 

 Mr. Dawson, and accordingly navigated his 

 craft across and down the river to that gentle- 

 man's abode, which was a full half-mile away. 

 Dawson hailed from Arkansas, on the Missis- 

 sippi, and naturally gravitated to a river loca- 

 tion in California. He evidently belonged to 

 that class that are unfortunately " born tired," 

 and had never desired to cultivate any other 

 trait. 



His wife, a lean, angular woman, with an 

 aspect of extreme acidity, was chopping a few 

 sticks of wood toward the rear of the cabin, 

 while the man was mending a fish-net which 

 hung over a frame near by. There was the 

 usual number of urchins and dogs upon the 

 premises. The latter came down to the land- 

 ing in noisy and menacing attitude, and Fred 

 held his craft off shore until the animals were 

 called away and kicked into silence by one of 

 the boys. 



Fred, not wishing to spend much time, after 

 the usual compliments and the assurance that 

 this was Mr. Dawson, proceeded directly to 

 business. 



"Mr. Dawson," said he, "I wish to know 

 who owns those bees across the river, where I 

 can find the owner, or whoever has a claim on 

 them, and wish to find out if I can purchase or 

 remove them a few miles up the river. As you 

 are the nearest resident to them I thought you 

 could tell me all about it." 



"Wa-all, stranger," drawled Dawson, "yer 

 want ter know a good eel, and yer have enumer- 

 ated yer idees so fast, an' run 'em all outer a 

 string tergether, that it's kinder confoosin, to 

 my understandin'." 



The woman had halted in her chopping, and 

 had readily taken in the questions, and, in a 

 shrill voice, said, " Why, Dad, you must have a 

 pow'ful understandin' not to grip outer them 

 sentiments. He just wants ter know—" 



"Now, Mariar," said Dawson, "you jest lock 

 that fish-grindin' mouth of yourn jest whar it 

 stands, open or shet. The Bible says things 

 must be done decently an' in order; an' order 

 is heaven's fust law." 



" Ha, ha! that mout be so," said the woman; 

 "but that fust law must hev stepped out or 

 been takin' a nap when yer understandin' was 

 born." 



"Thar, now, Mariar, that'll du. The Bible 

 says a woman — " 



" Quotin' Bible again," said Mariar. " Mebby 

 you'll make the stranger b'lieve yer a Methody 

 preacher. Say, stranger, hev ye got a bottle of 

 whisky about yerself or boat? If ye hev, jess 

 shake it at Dad an' see how nimble he'll climb 

 down off'm his Bible-quotin'." 



" Hokey pokey, Mariar! what's the matter 

 with yer? I say, now, shet up, an' I mean it," 

 said Dawson in a loud and excited tone, and 

 with a menacing step toward the woman. 

 Mariar had evidently been there before, and 

 knew the limits of her sarcasm, and, hastily 

 gathering up a few sticks of wood, retired to 

 the cabin." 



"Now, stranger," said Dawson, "jest un- 

 limber yer fust proposition." 



Fred, lending himself to the humor of the 

 occasion, said: " Well, sir, I am here." 



"That's a fac', sir; sensible; can't be contro- 

 verted; decently an' in order," said Dawson; 

 "and now, stranger, pull the next off'm the 

 string." 



" Where is the man that owns the bee-fixings 

 across the river?" Fred asked. 



