“And you will never see them,” said the bee-master, watching me as he unpacked his kit. “They fly too fast and too high. And if you can’t see them go by out here in the broad sunshine, how will you track them to their lair through the dim light under the trees? And yet,” he went on, “that is the only way to do it. It is useless to search the wood for their nests; you might travel the whole day through and find nothing. The only plan is to follow the laden bees returning to the hive. And now watch how we do that in Sussex.”
From one of the boxes he produced a contrivance like a flat tin saucer mounted on top of a pointed stick. He stuck this in the ground near the edge of the clover-field so that the saucer stood on a level with the highest blossoms. Now he took a small bottle of honey from his pocket, emptied it into the tin receptacle, and beckoned me to come near. Already three or four bees had discovered this unawaited feast and settled on it; a minute more and the saucer was black with crowding bees. Now the bee-master took a wire-gauze cover and softly inverted it over the saucer. Then, plucking his ingenious trap up by the roots, he set off towards the forest with his prisoners, followed by his men.
“These,” said he, “are our guides to the secret treasure-chamber. Without them we might look for a week and never find it. But now it is all plain sailing, as you’ll see.”
He pulled up on the edge of the wood. By this time every bee in the trap had forsaken the honey, and was clambering about in the top of the dome-shaped lid, eager for flight.
“They are all full of honey,” said the bee-master, “and the first thing a fully-laden bee thinks of is home. And now we will set the first one on the wing.”
He opened a small valve in the trap-cover, and allowed one of the bees to escape. She rose into the air, made a short circle, then sped away into the gloom of the wood. In a moment she was lost to sight, but the main direction of her course was clear; and we all followed helter-skelter until our leader called another halt.
“Now watch this one,” he said, pressing the valve again.
This time the guide rose high into the dim air, and was at once lost to my view. But the keen eyes of the old bee-man had challenged her.
“There she goes!” he said, pointing down a long shadowy glade somewhat to his left. “Watch that bit of sunlight away yonder!”
I followed this indication. Through the dense wood-canopy a hundred feet away the sun had thrust one long golden tentacle; and I saw a tiny spark of light flash through into the gloom beyond. We all stampeded after it.