212 HOW TO KEEP BEES 



box. When we were far enough afield, some un- 

 wary bee was lifted from its goldenrod revel and 

 imprisoned in the box, where one of the empty 

 combs had been filled from the bottle for her special 

 delectation. Like a worthy bee, she began to fill 

 at once; meanwhile, the stake was pushed into the 

 ground and the box placed upon it, the cover re- 

 moved, and we all retired for a little distance to 

 watch. When the bee finally lifted herself and our 

 honey into the air, we gave her closest attention. To 

 make sure of the exact position of her bonanza, she 

 always arose in a spiral, each circle being larger than 

 the one before, and finally turned the spiral in a 

 certain direction. When she suddenly darted away 

 with almost the speed of a bullet, it was always the 

 eyes of our father, blue as the sky against which the 

 bee was outlined, that detected her direction; for 

 young eyes, however keen, counted little against 

 trained eyes in this competition. 



Then there always followed a time of anxious 

 waiting for the return of the bee. Meanwhile we 

 stretched out on the dry sod in the sun and listened 

 to the chirping of the crickets, or the sweet notes of 

 the meadow larks and idly watched a hawk circle 

 on even pinions above our heads; or we told stories 

 of other days of successful bee-hunting. If the bee 

 returned within fifteen minutes, all was well and we 

 were confident that the tree was distant not much 

 nxore than a mile. But if we had to wait a half hour 

 we usually caught other bees and started over again, 

 hoping to find some nearer colony. If our first 



