“It seems a pity to rob them of their store of honey,” returned Joe. “But there is no help for it—unless we want to go without.”
“And I don’t want to do that, Joe,” came quickly from Harry, who had a great liking for sweet things.
Putting down their guns, they brought forth the nettings, and covered their faces and necks. Then they slipped old mittens on their hands.
“Now for the attack!” cried Joe, and brought out his flint and tinder. He soon had a light, and with this set fire to the pine torches.
Neither of the boys had ever smoked out bees before, and they went at it in their own way. At the bottom of the hollow tree was an opening, and into this they thrust the lighted torches.
“Whoop! Here they come!” cried Joe, and as he spoke a swarm of bees swept from the upper portion of the hollow. Then came the thick smoke and more bees—a swarm much larger than they had anticipated.
“They are going to fight for their home!” cried Harry, and he was right. Having emerged from the smoke the bees swept around and around the tree in a circle, and then swooped downward upon the two young pioneers.
“Oh!” came in a yell from Joe, for he was stung in the back of the neck, where the netting failed to cover him.
“Oh!” answered Harry, stung in the left hand, through a hole in his mitten. “Get away from me!” he added. “Shoo! shoo!”
But the bees did not want to go away, and in order to fight them off the boys pulled their torches from the hollow tree and swung them around their heads.