66 PEPACTON 



any opposition on the part of the bees. In reach- 

 ing your hand into the cavity to detach and remove 

 the comb you are pretty sure to get stung, for when 

 you touch the "business end" of a bee, it will sting 

 even though its head be off. But the bee carries 

 the antidote to its own poison. The best remedy 

 for bee sting is honey, and when your hands are 

 besmeared with honey, as they are sure to be on 

 such occasions, the wound is scarcely more painful 

 than the prick of a pin. Assault your bee-tree, 

 then, boldly with your axe, and you will find that 

 when the honey is exposed every bee has surren- 

 dered and the whole swarm is cowering in helpless 

 bewilderment and terror. Our tree yields only a 

 few pounds of honey, not enough to have lasted 

 the swarm till January, but no matter: we have 

 the less burden to carry. 



In the afternoon we go nearly half a mile farther 

 along the ridge to a cornfield that lies immediately 

 in front of the highest point of the mountain. The 

 view is superb; the ripe autumn landscape rolls 

 away to the east, cut through by the great placid 

 river ; in the extreme north the wall of the Catskills 

 stands out clear and strong, while in the south the 

 mountains of the Highlands bound the view. The 

 day is warm, and the bees are very busy there in 

 that neglected corner of the field, rich in asters, 

 fleabane, and goldenrod. The corn has been cut, 

 and upon a stout but a few rods from the woods, 

 which here drop quickly down from the precipitous 

 heights, we set up our bee-box, touched again with 



