AN IDYL OF THE HONEY-BEE. 61 



Attracted in the fields by the bee hunter's box, they 

 will come up the wind on the scent and blunder into 

 it in the most stupid, lubberly fashion. 



The honey-bee that licked up our leavings on tin 

 old stub belonged to a swarm, as it proved, about half 

 a mile farther down the ridge, and a few days after- 

 ward fate overtook them, and their stores in turn be 

 came the prey of another swarm in the vicinity, whici: 

 also tempted Providence and were overwhelmed. The 

 lirst mentioned swarm I had lined from several points, 

 and was following up the clew over rocks and through 

 gulleys, when I came to where a large hemlock had 

 been felled a few years before and a swarm taken 

 from a cavity near the top of it ; fragments of the old 

 comb were yet to be seen. A few yards away stood 

 another short, squatty hemlock, and I said my bees 

 ought to be there. As I paused near it I noticed 

 where the tree had been wounded with an ax a couple 

 of feet from the ground many years before. The 

 wound had partially grown over, but there was an 

 opening there that I did not see at the first glance. I 

 was about to pass on when a bee passed me making 

 that peculiar shrill, discordant hum that a bee makes 

 when besmeared with honey. I saw it alight in the 

 partially closed wound and crawl home ; then came 

 others and others, little bands and squads of them 

 heavily freighted with honey from the box. The tree 

 was about twenty inches through and hollow at tin. 

 butt, or from the ax mark down. This space t lie- 

 bees had completely filled with honey. With an ax 

 we cut away the outer ring of live wood and exposed 

 ihe treasure. Despite the utmost care, we wounded 

 the comb so that little rills of the golden liquid issued 

 from the root of the tree and trickled down the bill 



