“Like honey, sir?” he said.
“Oh yes. Do people keep bees out here?”
“Well, sir,” said Leather, smiling pleasantly, “Dame Nature does. There are plenty of wild bees. There’s a nest up just above that fork.”
He pointed to a spot about forty feet from the ground, where what appeared to be some flies were darting about a hole.
“Those are not bees,” said Nic, gazing up at the place where the bark appeared to be split and a portion of the tree decayed.
“Yes, sir—Australian wild bees. They make plenty of delicious honey.”
“Where you can’t get at it!”
“Oh yes; a man who can climb would get it. The bark of these trees is soft and easily cut through.”
“But the bees would sting him to death while he was doing it.”
“If they could, sir; but these bees out here are harmless. I’ve seen the naked blacks climb up, with a piece of smouldering, smoking wood to drive the insects away, and then rob a nest. They would not have much protection from the insects if they were attacked.”