THE GIRL'S DAY 



end of a shallow cove where we made fast to a 

 tumble-down dock beside a shack of a cabin. A 

 barefooted hermit, with a beard that his bees 

 might have swarmed in, came out to meet us. 

 He talked only of bees, asking nothing of news 

 from the world outside, as he led us through nar- 

 row aisles between rows of hives of bees which 

 he carelessly handled as he passed as another 

 might have gathered grain. He advised us not 

 to handle the insects until they knew us better 

 and in courtesy to our host we acted on his ad- 

 vice. We sat with him beside his shack and he 

 talked of his bees while we ate their honey and 

 honeycomb and drank the metheglyn which has 

 scarcely been known since the time of Shake- 

 speare. An hour passed slowly away and when 

 we said good-bye to the Bee Man of Lacosta 

 our pulses beat quietly and we could think of 

 the Big Pass without a shudder. 



"We haven't a bait!" said the captain the 

 next morning, when I told him we were ready 

 for the tarpon. "That old Spaniard promised 

 to be here at daylight with a dozen mullet and he 

 hasn't shown up." 



"Take the shot-gun and a dozen cartridges 

 81 



