“The hornets were taking no notice of him whatever, being intent on business of their own. Henderson took a long piece of string from his trousers pocket, and in the most delicate fashion possible made one end fast to the branch which supported the nest. Then, lying down flat on his face, he squirmed softly past without getting into collision with the insects, and crawled into the cave, carrying with him the other end of the string.
“Once safely inside, his first care was to grope around for a big stone or two. These he soon procured, and with their aid the entrance was blocked. Then he took off his coat.
“He laid his ear to the crevices in his barricade. The dogs were getting so near that he could hear now the crashing of their heavy forms as they bounded through the underbrush.
“Holding his coat ready to stop up, if necessary, the small openings he had left for observation, he began jerking sharply on the string which connected him with the hornets’ nest.
“He could hear the furious buzzing which instantly arose as the hornets swarmed forth to resent the disturbance. He could see how the air grew yellow all about the nest. But it did not occur to the angry insects to seek for their disturber in the cave.
“Henderson jerked again and yet again, and the enraged swarm grew thicker.
“At this moment the dogs came into view. Very deadly and inexorable they looked as they bounded along, heads low down, their dark, muscular bodies dashing the branches aside and bearing down the undergrowth.
“Now, realizing perhaps that they had run their prey to earth, they raised their heads and barked, in a tone very different from that of their baying. Unfalteringly they dashed straight upon the barricade; and one of them, as he sprang past, struck the nest a ruder shock than any that my grandfather’s string had been able to give it.
Saved by a Hornets’ Nest.—Page 313.