248 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE 



line a very large tract that had been cut over 

 years before. North of the line was the old 

 timber tract cut over at a time when hard 

 wood was almost valueless. Consequently 

 there was a very heavy growth on the old 

 timber tract right down to the spring, while 

 the underbrush had grown up thirty feet 

 high. 



The first bee arose and started straight 

 down the edge of the old tract, but on the 

 side recently cut, in a westerly direction. 

 There was an old timber road cut on the 

 edge of the slashing, running parallel with 

 the line, and the bee flew about six feet 

 above the ground along this road. We could 

 see her for an eighth of a mile. "We sat 

 down till a few bees came and went. All 

 went in the same direction till about a dozen 

 bees had come and gone. One bee seemed 

 uncertain- which way to go, and at last went 

 in the opposite direction. " A mighty good 

 cour.se," said Jake. " Let's go." 



Now, I had been thinking mighty rapidly 

 for a boy, and concluded that this bee-tree 

 was not where it seemed to be or Jake would 

 have had it long ago. I noticed that when 

 the bee going in the opposite direction got 

 about six rods away, or just past the heavy 

 timber, it swung around in a northerly 

 course. 



"Which way?" I asked. 



He looked at me in surprise. " Why, the 

 way the bees are going, of course." 



Tt was then that I explained to him that 

 it was my conviction that the bees were 

 northwest of us. There was a tract of very 

 heavy timber near the spring; and the un- 

 derbrush being so heavy the bees preferred 

 to fly around the timber to flying over it 



when heavily loaded. " I understand that," 

 said Jake; "but them pesky hybrids nevei- 

 go out of their way that far, and you kin 

 hev all the bees you find on that side uv 

 the woods." 



Jake hesitated, then said, " Go ahead and 

 try it." 



I went back on the line to the spring and 

 waited for another bee to start on the 

 opposite line. I followed it back, saw it 

 curve around the timber, and went right 

 after it. After following through an open- 

 ing on the east line of the old tract for 

 about a quarter of a mile I came to quite 

 an open place in the timber. Then, looking 

 up, I saw a bee fly through just above my 

 head in a westerly course and almost parallel 

 to the strong line from the spring. I fol- 

 lowed till I imagined I must be about forty 

 rods west of the spring and eighty north. 

 Here I began to examine every tree care- 

 fully. The underbi'ush hindered me greatly; 

 but I would look for a small open spot in 

 the timber and look until I saw a bee. 



Finally I noticed a loaded bee make a 

 slow half-circle and disappear in the under- 

 brush. 1 rushed after her, and, pulling back 

 a small birch-tree, saw them going into the 

 body of a big chestnut-tree from both sides 

 in a perfect stream just about thirty feet 

 from the ground. I let out a yell that brought 

 Jake. After looking at them for a while 

 he said, " By gosh, dogs ! that's the biggest 

 fool bee I ever saw. They are yours." 



That was our first bee-hunt together, but 

 it was by no means our last. I went home 

 happy to think I had beaten one of the most 

 famous bee-hunters in that part of the 

 country. 



THE GRAND OLD MAN OF "BEEDOM 



BY GRACE ALLEN 



Four score and more the years have passed, and left him with his bees, 

 With wonder-working sunlight on the wonder-laden trees; 



And life to him has meant not crowds, nor hurry of the town, 

 But space to see the sky a bit and watch the sun go down, 

 And time to pause in clovcr-tields when bees are flashing by, 

 And will to work, and soul to laugh. (He hath a merry eye!) 

 Right sturdily and heartily he works with bees and pen, 

 And through it all he loves his God and all his fellow-men. 



Who is this genial man, you ask, of honest-hearted fame, 

 Whom all the bee-folk of the nation speak about by name, 



Wlio lives in large simplicity of worship, work, and joy? 



He's Dr. C. C. Miller, of Marengo, Illinois! 

 The Grand Old Man of Beedom! He's the Grand Old Man of Beedom! 

 His life is a happy harmony of worship, work, and joy. 



With fun and fame and freedom — he's the Grand Old Man of Beedom, 



Our Doctor C. C. Miller, of Marengo, Illinois! 



