A Bee-Man of the 'Forties. 



in the process, or that the bees would commence their 

 descent and settle, usually in one of the apple trees, very 

 soon after the din began. 



The rapid growth of the swarm-cluster was always one 

 of the most bewildering things to watch. From a little 

 dark knot no bigger than the clenched hand, it swelled in 

 a moment to the size of a half-gallon measure, growing in 

 girth and length with inconceivable swiftness, until the 

 branch began to droop under its weight. A minute more, 

 and the last of the flying bees had joined the cluster ; the 

 stout apple-branch was bent almost double ; and the com- 

 pleted swarm hung within a few inches of the ground, a 

 long cigar-shaped mass gently swaying to and fro in the 

 flickering light and shade. 



The joyous trek-song of the bees, and the clanging 

 melody of key and basin, died down together. The old 

 murmuring, songful quiet closed o^'er the garden again, 

 as water over a cast stone. To hive a swarm thus easily 

 within reach was a simple matter. Soon the old bee-man 

 had got all snugly inside the skep, and the hive in its self- 

 appointed station. And already the bees were settling 

 down to work ; hovering merrily about it, or packed in the 

 fragrant darkness busy at comb-building, or lancing 

 straight off to the clover-fields, eager to begin the task of 

 provisioning the new home. 



35 



