The Boy Scouts on the Trail; or, Scouting through the Big Game Country
Page 16
CHAPTER XVI. A LITTLE KNOWLEDGE, WELL EARNED.
"A false alarm, boys!" sang out the envious Giraffe, as they all camehurrying up to the spot where Bumpus was dancing about excitedly, with awide grin on his rosy fat face.
"It is, hey?" declared the discoverer, indignantly; "well, you just waitand see what Allan here says. There's the tree it's in; and if you put onyour specs, Giraffe, p'raps even you c'n see the swarm buzzin' around upyonder."
"He's right, boys," declared Allan, quickly; "even before I look I canhear the noise that tells the truth. We've found our bee tree; and thehonor goes after all to our chum, Bumpus."
"Hurrah for Bumpus!" exclaimed Step Hen, pounding the fat scout on theback, after the custom of boys in general.
They were all soon able to locate the buzzing sound, and gaped up withgrowing eagerness at the place where the swarm was in motion.
"Looks like a big hive, too," ventured Giraffe.
"You never can tell," Allan declared; "but from the signs I wouldn't besurprised if it was an old one, and just stocked to the doors withhoney."
"Wow! that suits me," Giraffe went on; "I can stand it every meal, rightalong. Never yet did get enough of the stuff."
"But it's awful high up," ventured Step Hen. "How under the sun will weever climb up there, and dig it out?"
"Don't have to," remarked Bumpus, placidly; "that tree's just got to bechopped down, so's to let us scoop up all the stuff we can carry backhome."
"But it's a whopper of a tree," Step Hen went on; "and who's goin' tochop it down, I'd like to know?"
"Oh!" remarked Bumpus, pleasantly, "that was all fixed long ago. You mayremember that once Giraffe here promised to chop down the tree, if ever Ilocated a hive. Well, there's the tree; so get busy, Giraffe. It's apretty hefty axe, too, I should think; but you know how to swing one.I'll sit down on this log, and see how you get on; because I've done mypart."
Giraffe started to answer back; then thought better of it; and seizinghold of the axe that Jim the guide carried, he started to hack the tree.
But Giraffe was no woodsman, and made such a sorry mess of it that Jimfinally took pity on him. He knew the scout would never get that treedown in a day, judging from the clumsy way he started in. Besides, therewould be danger of the amateur chopper bringing it down on himself. Ittakes an experienced woodsman to judge how a tree is inclined to fall.One of these fellows can drop a tree almost in any exact place he wants,unless the slant of the trunk is entirely too great to be overcome byjudicious work with the axe.
From time to time Allan "spelled" the guide, for he knew how to handle anaxe to some advantage. And the others stood around, watching withinterest the clever way in which the sharp axe cut into the wood, exactlyon a line with preceding strokes.
"I could never learn to do that in a coon's age," admitted Bumpus.
"But I mean to, and before I quit these here Maine woods," declaredGiraffe. "A feller that's as fond of fires as me, ought to know how tochop down a tree, so's to always have plenty of wood for burnin'."
"And I can see the finish of these grand woods, after _you_ do learnhow," remarked Step Hen, a little sarcastically. "You'll never rest aslong as there's one tree left to burn."
"Hey, she's shivering, now; better look out, fellers, because that tree'sgoin' to come down right soon!" called out Bumpus, edging away.
After a little more work Jim made the rest all get back beyond the dangerline, in case the tree did chance to swing around; which he knew wouldnot be the case; because Jim had once been a logger, and doubtless felledhundreds of larger trees than this one.
With a crash it came plunging down, just where the man with the axe hadsaid he meant to drop it.
"Whoop! Hurrah!" shrilled the excited Bumpus, who held a kettle in hishands; and carried away by the thrill of the moment, he forgot all thewarning he had received from Allan, plunging straight toward the upperpart of the tree.
"Split wide open, fellers, and oh! my, just look at the honey spilled allover the ground! What a wicked waste. Oh! Oh!"
"Come back from there!" shouted Jim.
It was too late. Bumpus was in the midst of the excited swarm of beesthat had started to whirl around, dazed at first by the suddencatastrophe that had overtaken their house, but rapidly becomingfuriously angry.
"Look at the silly, would you?" cried Step Hen, staring aghast at Bumpus,who had already started to fill his receptacle with the honey comb thatlay around, partly broken by the fall of the tree.
"They're after him!" shrieked Giraffe, who thought it a comical sight tosee the fat boy trying to gather up the sweet stuff with one hand, whilethe other was busily engaged slapping at the insects that began to gettheir work in on various parts of his anatomy.
Finally even the fortitude of Bumpus gave way before the onslaught ofthat army of angry bees, each member of which was armed with a sting thatcould make things exceedingly interesting for the intruder.
So Bumpus began a masterly retreat. At first he clung to his spoils; andthen, finding that he needed a dozen arms to ward off the savage littleinsects he dropped his plunder, and set out on a wild run, kicking andslapping at a tremendous rate.
Giraffe laughed heartily at the sight. He had advanced much further thanthe others, before realizing that the example of Bumpus was reckless, andStep Hen's calling warned him to pull up.
In the midst of his merriment Giraffe was seen to give a vicious lunge atthe side of his head; this was followed by another, and another, as morebees found him out; until with a yell he too had to seek safety inflight, his long arms waving every which way, like flails on a barnfloor; or the wings of a Dutch windmill in action.
It was a pair of very contrite boys that presently asked Allan's adviceas to what was best for bee stings. Step Hen himself could not keep fromgrinning at the enlarged appearance of their heads, and even gave themsome fatherly advice about the folly of being so conceited, and havingsuch swelled heads over a little thing like that.
But Allan found some mud on the border of a nearby pond, with which heplastered their hurts in the good old-fashioned way known to the earlypioneers. After which there were two of the most comical looking fellowsever seen wearing the uniform of Boy Scouts. All the same, the cool muddid seem to ease the terrible burning caused by the stings, and Allansaid it would in a measure take out the poison.
"No more rheumatism cures for me, I tell you," remarked Giraffe. "Whew! Iguess the remedy is some worse than the disease. And can't those littlebeggars just poke it into you, though? Every time one stung me, I feltlike he was pushing a six-inch knife into me, and heated red hot at that.Honey, oh! yes, I like you; but I'd rather buy it in the market afterthis."
"But don't think of giving up so soon," remarked Step Hen. "I'm dead sureAllan here knows of a way to get all the honey we want, and never bestung once, don't you, Allan?"
"I'll show you how it's done," replied the other, "though in the summertime the bee hunters often carry a piece of mosquito netting along, whichthey fasten over their hats, so the insects can't get at them. Butthere's another way. Bees are in deadly fear of smoke. All bee men givethem a few puffs of smoke before they open the hive."
"What does that do, stupefy the poor little critters?" asked Step Hen,who did not know as much about bees as even Bumpus.
"Why, you see," volunteered the latter, wishing to air his knowledge,"bees, as soon as they scent smoke, believe their hive is on fire. Everyfeller gets busy right away, loading up with honey. And when they'redoing that, they won't take any notice of other things, so they c'n behandled easy enough. I know somethin' 'bout bees, because we got a newfangled hive at home."
"Huh! I just guess you know more about 'em right now than ever you didbefore, Bumpus," chuckled Step Hen, who had not been stung once; "andit's been impressed on you pretty strong, too, so's to keep you fromforgettin' the same. After this you ain't agoin' to romp into a hive ofbees that's been upset, not in a hurry."
"We'd better wait a little longer," the other advised; "so we can getcloser. They'll quiet down in a little while, and then we can make thefire on the windward side, so that the smoke must drift right across thehive."
Presently he set them to work collecting just the kind of fuel he wanted,and which was calculated to make a dense smoke. When this smudge wasstarted going it seemed to set the bees working with feverish eagernessto load themselves down with honey. No one ever has learned just why theydo this, unless it is the desire to save enough food for self support;because they never attempt to rescue any of the young brood in the cells.
"Ain't it near time now?" asked the impatient Bumpus, whom even theswollen condition of his neck and cheeks did not seem to entirely cure ofthat eager desire to snatch the fruits of his victory from the savagelittle army of protectors.
"A little longer, and then we can set to work. Better let Jim and me dothe main part of it, boys. You might be too excited; and it's always thatkind of a fellow the bees tackle. I've known bee keepers who handle theirhives day in and day out all season, and seldom get a sting. They'recool, and never make a false move, such as knocking the box, or coughing,or any sort of sound that will anger the insects."
He went on to tell them some interesting facts connected with the findingof bee trees, which he had either heard from the lips of others, orwitnessed himself.
Ten minutes passed, and Bumpus was growing impatient again, when Allanremarked:
"Now, the time is up, I guess; and if you keep back of us, and hand usthe buckets, Jim and myself can begin to get some of that clear stuff,which looks like this season's make. It won't take only a little timetill we fill everything we brought, and there must be a ton of the stuff,all told, in this big old hive."
Even Giraffe forgot his late unpleasantness as he again advanced nearerthe spot where the stores of scattered sweetness lay.