THE LIFE OF A BEE 



he feared his caressing touch might hasten the down- 

 dropping of the stricken leaves. Happy, I'm sad, 

 too." 



I could only answer him that I of all bees was one 

 of the most unhappy. And at the moment I was 

 stricken with a feeling of homesickness, as though I, 

 too, were "bound on a journey toward the setting 

 sun, or as though an unmeasured catastrophe im- 

 pended. 



As we neared home we saw the Master and his little 

 Shadow seated by our hive, and near them, sprawling 

 on the ground, the faithful dog. The Master was 

 watching the incoming bees. Well he knew by the 

 burdens they bore the condition of the fields. 



"The workers are coming home very light," remarked 

 ",he Shadow. "Just a little bread." 



"The season is ended," murmured the Master. 

 "Soon they will go indoors and rest through the cold. 

 We must come presently and take off the empty up- 

 pers, so as to concentrate the heat of the cluster. In 

 that way they will conserve their stores. The cluster, 

 you know, son, is formed by the bees covering over the 

 brood and hanging on to one another so as to keep 

 themselves and the young bees warm." 



Crip and I deposited our loads and then returned to 

 the alighting-board, but the speakers had gone. We 

 could hear the Master singing in his garden ; and from 

 a mesquite-tree hard by a mocking-bird answered him. 

 All too soon he ceased; and the bird, after trilling a 

 few wild refrains, as though to coax him to return, 

 dropped into silence. For a time not a sound was 

 heard, then the bird broke out again in a most plain- 



103 



