AN IDYL OF THE HONEY-BEE. 79 



quickly down from the precipitous heights, we set up 

 our bee-box, touched again with the pungent oil. In 

 a few moments a bee has found it ; she comes up to 

 leeward, following the scent. On leaving the box she 

 goes straight toward the woods. More bees quickly 

 come and it is not long before the line is well estab- 

 lished. Now we have recourse to the same tactics 

 we employed before, and move along the ridge to 

 another field to get our cross line. But the bees still 

 go in almost the same direction they did from the 

 corn stout. The tree is then either on the top of the 

 mountain, or on the other or west side of it. We 

 hesitate to make the plunge into the woods and seek 

 to scale those precipices, for the eye can plainly see 

 what is before us. As the afternoon sun gets lower 

 the bees are seen with wonderful distinctness. They 

 fly toward and under the sun and are in a strong 

 light, while the near woods which form the back- 

 ground are in deep shadow. They look like large 

 luminous motes. Their swiftly vibrating, transparent 

 wings surround their bodies with a shining nimbus 

 that makes them visible for a long distance. They 

 seem magnified many times. We see them bridge 

 the little gulf between us and the woods, then rise 

 up over the tree-tops with their burdens, swerving 

 neither to the right hand nor to the left. It is al- 

 most pathetic to see them labor so, climbing the 

 mountain and unwittingly guiding us to their treas- 

 ures. When the sun gets down so that his direction 

 corresponds exactly with the course of the bees, we 



