The blows of their axes resounded through the woods, and great chips flew through the air as the cutting blades bit their way into the heart of the oak. Occasionally the choppers paused to gaze upward at its swaying top, for it was important that the tree should fall with the hole uppermost. Then, bending, they again attacked it with powerful, swinging blows, until it began to creak, and give, and totter. Ben seized the boys and pushed them aside, and the forest monarch crashed to earth, the butt bounding back from the stump high in the air.
Hardly had the great tree fallen before Bill was at the hole with a sulphur torch. The lads ran forward to see what he was doing, and were choked by the fumes he was blowing down into the trunk. They distinctly heard the loud, angry buzzing of thousands of imprisoned bees, and were thankful that the trapper stood guard with his torch. A few managed to escape him and forced the boys to dodge and run by buzzing angrily about their ears.
While Bill stood bravely by the entrance and sent the stifling fumes of his torch into the tree, Ben mounted the prostrate trunk. He began cutting out a wide strip directly above the place where he heard the fierce buzzing, now grown weaker and less threatening, thanks to the trapper and his torch.
The others laughed heartily when Bill got a whiff of his own medicine and doubled up gasping and coughing, his lungs full of sulphur fumes. Their joy was short-lived, however, for at that very instant George was stung on the back of the neck and the guide behind the ear. Bill declared it served them right for laughing at him.
Ben called for the lantern and the remaining torch, which Ed quickly brought him. He lifted out the slab he had chopped free, and instantly thrust the torch into the long opening. Then he asked for the pan, and began to take great strips of dripping comb from inside the tree. The cavity was about four feet long, and was lined with layers of clean, fragrant honey, over which crawled thousands of stupefied bees.
Strip after strip was lifted from the tree until the dish-pan and pails were full. All through the woods was wafted the delicious odor of new-made honey.
“That ought to draw a bear if there’s one anywhere around,” declared the trapper, sniffing the air, as they gathered up their burdens and started for the cabin.
Ben had a lump behind his ear, and George had developed a similar one on the back of his neck. Coming to a spring-hole, they plastered the bites with mud.
“Must be close to fifty pounds altogether,” said Bill, when they reached the cabin.
“Yes, all of that, if not more,” agreed Ben, scooping out some very sticky bees which were leisurely crawling over the comb.