Ben nodded his head and smiled.
“There’ll be hundreds here in an hour,” he promised.
“Can they smell it so far away?” asked George.
“No; but these will come back and bring more. You’ll see, before long. Look out! Watch him, over your head there! See him circle? There he goes! Now watch him as far as you can,” cautioned the guide, as the first bee started away for the unknown tree.
“I’ve lost him!” wailed Ed.
“I see him—no, he’s gone!” cried George.
“Never mind, there’ll be many more,” Ben told them. “Watch that fellow on the rim of the saucer; he’s going in a second. There he goes! See him circle? Watch now, watch close, he’s circling again—there he goes—same way,” he declared, shading his eyes with his hands.
For some minutes no more bees appeared, and the boys began to fear that something was wrong. Then three at once alighted on the saucer, and Ben said the tree was not far away. While they were watching them two more came; then others, by ones and twos, until there were fifteen or twenty at the feast. The watchers were kept busy turning and twisting their heads to follow the swift flight of the little workers as each started away with its hoard of sweets. More bees came every moment, until they were arriving and leaving in a steady stream.
Ben had meanwhile discovered what he called a cross-line. Bees from another colony in a different tree had found the tempting feast. They were coming and leaving in a different direction from that taken by the first lot. He decided to follow up the original line, for he believed their tree to be the nearer. He said they would leave this second lot until another day, although he hoped to get all the honey they required from the colony they were tracing.
At length he declared it time to move along the line. Choosing a dead hemlock some distance away, on the side of a hardwood ridge, as the spot where the bees faded from sight on their flight, the guide led the boys through the woods in its direction.