“Fix the bucket, Jim,” Willie called as the honey began oozing down the tree.
Jim put his bucket under the tree and began slapping at a few bees that were buzzing all around him.
“Don’t fight them, Jim. It makes them angry. Just let them buzz and I don’t think they’ll sting you.”
Soon Willie had rolled out so much honey and beeswax that his bucket would not hold it all. When both buckets were filled, Willie came down from the tree. “Now you carry one and I’ll carry the other.”
Quite a bit of honey had trickled down the tree, so the bees stayed behind, instead of following Willie and Jim.
As the boys walked back through the woods, Willie looked admiringly at Jim. “I didn’t realize you’re so much larger than I am,” Willie said. “Why, you’re as tall as lots of men. How old are you?”
Jim smiled. “I guess I grew a lot while I was with the Potawatomis. I’m thir—why, Willie, I’m fourteen now. I forgot all about my birthday this year. But no wonder, I was fourteen the day after we captured Kaskaskia the fifth of July.”
Willie stood as tall as he could. “Why, I’m almost as old as you, Jim. I’ll be fourteen the second of January.”
Jim was almost a head taller than Willie. He looked down at the younger boy and smiled. “You will? I thought you were about twelve.”
“I may be short, but I can do lots of things that men can’t do,” Willie replied.