This soon made a dense smoke outside of the tree, and the bees moved away, leaving some of the ground burnt by the fire.
“Let us leave one torch in the tree, and defend ourselves with the other,” said Harry.
This was done, and they continued to wave the single torch around them, which made the bees keep their distance. The smoke pouring from the top of the tree brought forth more bees, until they felt fairly certain that the hive within was now totally deserted.
“The tree is catching fire!” exclaimed Joe presently.
“So it is! That won’t do, Joe! Our honey will be burnt up!” groaned Harry.
Here was a new difficulty, and, regardless of more stings, Harry leaped toward the tree again, and pulled away the torch. In the meantime Joe ran for some water from a stream in that vicinity. This was thrown up into the hollow by the aid of a cup they carried, producing a denser smoke than ever.
“Hurrah! the fire is out!” declared Harry, five minutes later. “Oh, but wouldn’t I have been mad if the honey had been burnt up!” he said.
“That smoke has driven away the last of the bees,” announced Joe, after a careful look around.
“Don’t be too sure, Joe. My hand burns worse than fire where I was stung!”
“And how do you suppose my neck feels? I’ve got a lump on it as big as a walnut. Those bees meant business, I can tell you that.”