After a hard scramble up the hillside they reached the hemlock and sat down to await the bees. They had not been there long before the industrious little toilers covered the saucer, pushing and crowding one another in their efforts to get their share of the honey it contained. They flew away in the same direction as before, and Ben knew he was on the line. Basing his prophecy on the increased number of bees, he said that with the next moving they should be within reach of the tree.
Once more they traveled on, this time over the ridge and down the other side into a heavily timbered ravine. Here the guide thought they would find the honey-tree. Indeed, no sooner were they seated than bees by the hundreds flocked to the bait. These left without circling, and Ben said it was a sure sign the tree was near.
The bee-hunters rose and began a close inspection of each tree-trunk in the vicinity, looking carefully up and down its length for some opening or cavity which might proclaim the entrance to a hive within. Ben told the boys to travel along in sight of him, one on either side, and urged them to inspect each tree thoroughly. He reminded them that bees sometimes went in an opening at the very bottom, and at other times near the tiptop.
Finally George, who was at the right of the line, came to a great weather-beaten pine with a large cavity in its trunk near the base. He felt sure this was the tree that contained the honey. Stooping down, he foolishly put his face to the opening in an effort to obtain a view of the inside. Luckily there were no bees there, but something else flew out and struck him full in the face. And then, as he fell over on his back from the suddenness of the attack, a perfect army of bats came chattering from the tree. Thrusting his hands before his face, George ran from the spot.
Just then Ed called out that he had found the tree. Hurrying to the place where he and Ben stood gazing at a hole near the top of a giant oak, George saw a steady swarm of bees entering and leaving the cavity.
“Guess we’ll have to cut that to-night,” said Ben. “There ought to be a pile of honey in there, boys. But you can’t always tell; sometimes the biggest trees hold the least honey.”
There was an angry buzzing about their heads, and they ducked and ran.
“We’ll mosey along out of here and go home and make some torches. Then we’ll come back after dark and go to work,” Ben promised.
George told of finding the bats, and his companions laughed heartily.
“They roost in a hollow tree like that by the thousands sometimes,” said the guide. “I’ve done the same thing you did, often. Why, I’ve had them strike me in the face so hard that my eye swelled up.”