THE LIFE OF A BEE 



I did not answer him. We fell silent as we made our 

 way across the combs. 



"Suppose we take a turn in the woods," he suddenly 

 suggested, wheeling about and heading for the door. 

 "I have new bearings to get and you have new lands 

 to explore." 



"I supposed you knew this country," I ventured. 



"I do, but the way to this new home of mine must 

 be learned." 



Out into the air we hurried, but he flew back and 

 forth many times before our door. He wanted to make 

 sure that he knew it; then, flying round and round in 

 ever wider circles, we mounted with ecstasy into the 

 higher reaches. Lake Espantoso, with its border of 

 great oaks, lay below us like a bar of silver; and the 

 Master's house stood like a sentinel beside the white 

 hives which, row on row, spread beneath us in the sun. 



"That prominent knoll," said Crip, "is a thing to 

 remember, if you are returning late and flying low. 

 And remember, too, that in that window of the Master's 

 house a lantern burns. This may sometimes be a 

 guide. But, mark you, never fly into it, though you 

 may be tempted. Better still, get in before it is too 

 dark. Just there by that row of hives is a tree to re- 

 member. It is a glory in the spring with its yellow 

 flowers, until the cutting ants get it. They clip off 

 the leaves and blossoms. But it is an excellent land- 

 mark, nevertheless. And there's the Master," went 

 on Crip, "and the Little One, and that horrid dog. 

 That little boy sits by for hours while the great one 

 labors with some of us. The horrid dog sleeps I'd like 

 to sting him. Things will go wrong the Master sets 



43 



