ing well along in the
afternoon and I told him I must go home. "Well, your folks might
think something has happened to you and I won't ask ye to stay any
longer; but come up again and we will find that yaller bee." I
thanked him and asked when it would suit him to go. "You kin come
any time you keer to, but ye'd better come early when you do come,
fer I might be out scoutin' round and not be home." That proposed
bee hunt was the only thing thought of on my way home, the only
thought that went with me to my bed, and in my dreams I saw the
most beautiful yellow bees in the world on combs of snowy
whiteness, some of them as large as a door.

Early the next morning, before the sun had shown himself to the
people down in the valley, I was far on my way up the mountain on
my way to the hunter's cabin. Great drops of sweat were standing
all over my face, but I never slackened my pace until I heard the
cheering "Good morning" from the old hunter at the cabin. "Jist
come and rest yerself. It's a little too early fer bees to fly
yit." I replied that I wasn't tired. "When I was your age I didn't
get tired either, but if you get to be as old as me you won't walk
so fast up hill; you're all a lather of sweat."

About an hour later we went out to where I had first baited the
bees. I began to gather wood to start a fire and burn for them
again. "What are ye goin' to do with that wood?" was his inquiry.
On being informed that this was the way I got them to bait, he
chuckled to himself and said he would show me a better and easier
way. He then took a handkerchief from his pocket, then a small
bottle containing something that was of a fluid form, and sprinkled
the handkerchief with it. He then got a pole eight or ten feet long
and put the cloth on one end, raised it as high in the air as he
could, moving it back and forth in the breeze. Very soon hundred of
bees were darting through the air. The pole was slowly lowered
until the handkerchief rested on the ground, sweetened water was
sprinkled on some bushes, and in a few minutes the yellow bees were
flying east and the black ones found previously flying west.

This was a very simple, but a new departure from the mode followed
in those days. He explained to me that the little vial contained
water, with a few drops of the oil of anisseed added, and there
were other scents perhaps better, but this being the only kind he
had at that time was the reason for using it. We went directly east