954 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



Dec. 15. 



All along the route, as I neared Lebanon I 

 heard of the wonderful spring on the river 

 Niangua. In fact, the river itself, so I am told, 

 is the product of one or more sofl-water springs. 

 I was told, also, that dry weather has no ef- 

 fect on it ; and one is obliged to ford the river 

 to get to Lebanon, not only once but three 

 times. I suggested that I could take my wheel 

 and go around the spring and get rid of fording 

 the rivers; but they told me it came out of the 

 side of a cliff, and that there was no other way 

 but to go down through the deep water. They 

 said I would probably have to hire somebody to 

 take a wagon to carry me over, for the water 

 came almost if not quite up to the wagon-body. 

 I knew I should not have time for such delays 

 but I pushed ahead. I made pretty good prog- 

 ress until I came into the neighborhood of the 

 river; then I had it up and down, up and down. 

 But it was not hills where one could go down 

 on one side and up another, as we do away 

 back home in Ohio. The hills were not only 

 long and steep, but rocks were so thick, from 

 the size of a hen's egg up to a good-sized pump- 

 kin, that at first glance it seemed little short 

 of madness to go down such hills on a wheel; 

 but, like the sand I told you about long ago, I 

 soon learned that a wheelman can learn to 

 dodge and climb over rocks. In fact, before I 

 got to the springs I learned to go down these 

 hills at almost a breakneck speed. It was not 

 so much the rubber tires that had to be man- 

 aged — it was the cranks and pedals. If a pedal 

 strikes a rock, or stump of a tree that has not 

 been cut off quite short enough, it gives a 

 shock ten times worse than striking the rubber 

 tire against an obstruction. In going down one 

 of the last hills I met a couple of pedestrians. 

 They said they waded the river. I decided 

 that, if they did, I could do it, even though 

 they were considerably taller than myself. At 

 the bottom of a longer and steeper incline than 

 any I had met before, the beautiful Niangua 

 River burst on my view. All that I have said 

 in regard to the crystal purity of the waters at 

 Castalia, O., will* apply to this broad river. 

 The gravelly bed, however, was composed of 

 sharp flinty pebbles; and as soon as my bare 

 foot touched them I decided that going bare- 

 foot was oat of the question ; therefore ray light 

 kid wheeling-shoes had to take their water- 

 bath. I was perspiring in every pore. In fact, 

 the sweat was dripping from the end of my 

 nose. It was a diflicult matter to roll up my 

 pants and heavy underclothing; and when I 

 had tugged and pulled to get them a notch 

 higher I was only a little way out in tnestrea^m. 

 The water was deliciously cool to my palate, 

 and I drank again and again while it was 

 rushing past me above my knees. At first it 

 gave a chill to my lower extremities; but 

 pretty soon I began to enjoy it, and really 

 longed to plunge into the crystal flood all over. 

 I think I should have done so if time had per- 

 mitted. I took a glance at the sun. It was 

 sinking relentlessly, and I had nearly 20 miles 

 more to make before dark, besides getting 

 through that river three times. I went back 

 hastily, divested myself of my pants and thick 

 heavy underwear. The latter article was put 

 on when I started, thinking we should have 

 frosty nights. I finally got them off, and then 

 made another attempt at wading. Before I got 

 through I had to hold up not only my coat-tails, 

 but the lower ends of another garment that 



would have been white had it not been for the 

 fact that it was Saturday night, and that I had 

 been wheel-riding for almost a solid week. I 

 put my clothing on the bank, then waded back 

 for my wheel, scooping up the delicious cooling 

 liquid every now and then on the way. The 

 current was so swift that I made rather slow 

 progress. Just as I reached the opposite bank 

 I was dismayed by seeing a young lady on 

 horseback rounding the cliff on the opposite 

 side. As a rule, I am always glad to meet 

 young ladies on horseback, but 1 didn't enjoy 

 meeting this particular one; for my pantaloons, 

 etc., were on the other side of the river, and 

 there was not time enough for me to get down 

 into the deep water without a very undignified 

 splash and scramble — undignified, at least, for 

 a man of my age. I began to feel that I was 

 in a pickle for once, without any mistake; but 

 just then the woman turned her horse's head 

 and rode by on the other side. I suppose you 

 might have heard my long breath of relief 

 quite a distance. 



I put my wheel across my shoulders, my head 

 going through just under the seat, and once 

 more waded the river. Catch cold? Not a bit 

 of it. I knew I should not catch cold so long as 

 I kept up the perspiration; but I felt that I 

 could not go on without a brief glimpse of that 

 wonderful spring. When I essayed to put on 

 my sweaty woolen drawers, however, I was 

 startled to find that they would not go on any 

 way. I hadn't a minute of time to spare to 

 fuss with them, so I wrapped them up with my 

 overcoat and undercoat, and tied the whole 

 between the handle-bars. Then I crossed the 

 stream and found my way to Bennett's Mill. 

 The great spring was about a quarter of a mile 

 out of my way. I waded the river again, and 

 followed it up to the cliff, and there, sure 

 enough, was the great limpid pool. The water 

 is so clear that you look down into a frightful 

 chasm, and away back under the cliff', and then 

 down into what looks like a bottomless pit. 

 Nobody has ever yet been able to find any bot- 

 tom. Now wait a minute until you understand. 

 The water comes up with such force that even 

 a chunk of lead is thrown out by it, and will 

 not sink; and the same way with all attempts 

 at forcing a pole or rod down into the crater of 

 this watery volcano. A queer sense of chilli- 

 ness began to admonish me that my safety 

 depended on getting up perspiration again. A 

 succession of hills, such as I had first passed 

 on the other side of the river, soon warmed me 

 up; but my strength was giving out. The 

 dinner I took hastily at Plad was not a very 

 inviting one nor a very nourishing one. The 

 heavy load of clothing between my handle- 

 bars seemed to take a good deal of strength. 

 A wagonload of boys came up behind me, who 

 had been fishing for speckled trout in the 

 waters of this spring. Without stopping to 

 think, I gave one of them a dime to take my 

 bundle and leave it at the postoftice. This left 

 me toward sundown, in my shirtsleeves, my 

 thick woolen drawers suddenly dispensed with, 

 also from 15 to 20 miles from my destination. 

 Never mind. Relieved of that heavy burden of 

 useless clothing, my wheel started up like a 

 young colt, and I just bounded over hill and 

 dale, rejoicing in freedom for my muscles as 

 well as being relieved from useless weight. 

 After an hour of pretty brisk riding, however, 

 up and down the hills, I felt my strength going 

 again. There was no time for any more naps, 

 nor even for any more refreshments; but I de- 

 cided to stop at the first house and give almost 

 any price for a glass of milk. The road was 

 pretty fair, but it was still on the ridges, and 

 houses were very scarce. I finally found one 

 near the road; but nobody was at home. A 



