It did look dangerous, but they were greatly afraid to be seen. Larue’s indignation must be well up to shooting-point before this. But they crept cautiously toward the clearing.
Before they reached the edge of the woods they could hear a roar like a distant cataract; and when they came into the open they were appalled at what they saw.
CHAPTER VII
REAPING THE HARVEST
A roaring black cloud that looked almost like the vortex of a tornado swirled over the log barn. There was a smaller cloud hovering about the house, and the whole clearing was alive with bees, coming and going, looking for something, all extremely irritable.
Approaching the barn as closely as they dared, they saw that the whole building was like a vast beehive. The insects covered the logs; they swarmed in and out of every one of the wide chinks between the timbers. Myriads were continually emerging and flying off, and myriads more took their places.
“Gracious!” exclaimed Carl, looking rather wildly at his brother. “I didn’t know we had so many bees. The honey’s here in the barn all right.”
“It won’t be here long, at this rate,” returned Bob. “But I wonder what’s happened to Larue and his family and live stock. Perhaps they’re all dead!”
The boys really felt seriously uneasy at the overwhelming success of their scheme. Except for the bees, no living creature was in sight, but Carl presently spied a dead hen near the barn. Evidently she had been killed by the bees, and this increased their uneasiness. Bob made an attempt to reach the cabin, but a host of savage bees drove him back, despite his veil. The insects were fighting-mad.
The boys crept around the edge of the clearing, keeping in the shelter of the woods, where the bees did not molest them. They had made about half the circuit when they caught sight of a heavy cloud of smoke rising a little way back among the thickets.
“S-sh! There they are!” whispered Bob.