112 Trails to Woods and Waters 



In boyhood days, bare brown feet brushed 

 the dew, sparkling like diamonds, from the 

 grass. If the man goes bee hunting he must 

 wear shoes and thus lose half the fun. 



What excitement there was, once we got a 

 line on the tree. Over fences and stone walls 

 we raced, through swamps and brooks. No 

 hill was too steep, and no thicket too dense to 

 be penetrated, as long as we kept the fugitive 

 bee in sight, or at least kept the line upon the 

 tree. 



To most of the readers of this book the 

 privilege and education of bee hunting will be 

 denied, but many of you can avail yourselves 

 of a very good substitute, and that is the study 

 of the beehive, even though it be the back 

 yard of your city home. I know many a man 

 who keeps bees with both profit and pleasure 

 within the city limits of some large metropolis. 

 So if you cannot go bee hunting, study the 

 hive, and you can learn most of the secrets 

 that the country boy learns following the bee 

 line to the honey laden tree. 



One has merely to take his stand near the 



