ordinary flies, and branched off to Barcoo rot,
and struck the track again at bees and bee stings. When we got to bees,
Mitchell sat smoking for a while and looking dreamily backwards
along tracks and branch tracks, and round corners and circles he had
travelled, right back to the short, narrow, innocent bit of track that
ends in a vague, misty point--like the end of a long, straight, cleared
road in the moonlight--as far back as we can remember.

. . . . .

"I had about fourteen hives," said Mitchell--"we used to call them
'swarms', no matter whether they were flying or in the box--when I left
home first time. I kept them behind the shed, in the shade, on tables
of galvanised iron cases turned down on stakes; but I had to make legs
later on, and stand them in pans of water, on account of the ants. When
the bees swarmed--and some hives sent out the Lord knows how many swarms
in a year, it seemed to me--we'd tin-kettle 'em, and throw water on 'em,
to make 'em believe the biggest thunderstorm was coming to drown the
oldest inhabitant; and, if they didn't get the start of us and rise,
they'd settle on a branch--generally on one of the scraggy fruit trees.
It was rough on the bees--come to think of it; their instinct told
them it was going to be fine, and the noise and water told them it was
raining. They must have thought that nature was mad, drunk, or gone
ratty, or the end of the world had come. We'd rig up a table, with a box
upside down, under the branch, cover our face with a piece of mosquito
net, have rags burning round, and then give the branch a sudden jerk,
turn the box down, and run. If we got most of the bees in, the rest
that were hanging to the bough or flying round would follow, and then
we reckoned we'd shook the queen in. If the bees in the box came out and
joined the others, we'd reckon we hadn't shook the queen in, and go for
them again. When a hive was full of honey we'd turn the box upside down,
turn the empty box mouth down on top of it, and drum and hammer on the
lower box with a stick till all the bees went up into the top box. I
suppose it made their heads ache, and they went up on that account.

"I suppose things are done differently on proper bee-farms. I've heard
that a bee-farmer will part a hanging swarm with his fingers, take out
the queen bee and arrange matters with her; but our ways suited us,
and there was a lot of expectation and running and excitement in
it, especially whe