a2 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. 
claimed death, had it been in their power, to all their 
foes, not, of course, excepting Tom Owen himself. But 
the wary hunter was up to the tricks of his trade, and, 
like a politician, he knew how easily an enraged mob 
could be quelled with smoke; and smoke he tried, until 
his enemies were completely destroyed. 
We, Tom’s hangers-on, now approached his treasure. 
It was a rich one, and, as he observed, “contained a 
rich chance of plunder.” Nine feet, by measurement, 
of the hollow of the tree was full, and this afforded 
many pails of pure honey. ; 
Tom was liberal, and supplied us all with more than 
we wanted, and “toted,” by the assistance of Sambo, 
his share to his own home, soon to be devoured, and 
soon to be replaced by the destruction of another tree, 
and another nation of bees. 
Thus Tom exhibited within himself an unconquer- 
able genius which would have immortalized him, had he 
directed it in following the sports of Long Island or 
New Market. 
We have seen the great men of the southern turf 
glorying around the victories of their favorite sport,— 
we have heard the great western hunters detail the soul- 
stirring adventures of a bear-hunt—we have listened, 
with almost suffocating interest, to the tale of a Nan- 
tucket seaman, while he portrayed the death of a mighty 
whale—and we have also seen Tom Owen triumphantly 
engaged in a bee-hunt—we beheld and wondered at the 
