362 THE MOUNTAINS OF CALIFOKNIA 



sure water, the other plenty of sunshine, they hum 

 and quiver alike. Sauntering in the Shasta bee-lands 

 in the sun-days of summer, one may readily infer 

 the time of day from the comparative energy of 

 bee-movements alone drowsy and moderate in 

 the cool of the morning, increasing in energy with 

 the ascending sun, and, at high noon, thrilling and 

 quivering in wild ecstasy, then gradually declining 

 again to the stillness of night. In my excursions 

 among the glaciers I occasionally meet bees that 

 are hungry, like mountaineers who venture too far 

 and remain too long above the bread-line; then 

 they droop and wither like autumn leaves. The 

 Shasta bees are perhaps better fed than any others 

 in the Sierra. Their field-work is one perpetual 

 feast ; but, however exhilarating the sunshine or 

 bountiful the supply of flowers, they are always 

 dainty feeders. Humming-moths and humming 

 birds seldom set foot upon a flower, but poise on 

 the wing in front of it, and reach forward as if 

 they were sucking through straws. But bees, 

 though as dainty as they, hug their favorite flow 

 ers with profound cordiality, and push their blunt, 

 polleny faces against them, like babies on their 

 mother's bosom. And fondly, too, with eternal 

 love, does Mother Nature clasp her small bee-babies, 

 and suckle them, multitudes at once, on her warm 

 Shasta breast. 



Besides the common honey-bee there are many 

 other species here fine mossy, burly fellows, who 

 were nourished on the mountains thousands of 

 sunny seasons before the advent of the domestic 

 species. Among these are the bumblebees, mason- 



