then Uncle Eb let
out another prisoner. The bee flew off a little way and then rose in a
slanting course to the tree-tops. He showed us, however, that we were
looking the right way.

'Them little fellers hev got a good compass,' said Uncle Eb, as we
followed the line of the bees. 'It p'ints home ev'ry time, an' never
makes a mistake.'

We went further this time before releasing another. He showed us that
we had borne out of our course a little and as we turned to follow
there were half a dozen bees flying around the box, as if begging for
admission.

'Here they are back agin,' said Uncle Eb, 'an' they've told a lot o'
their cronies 'bout the man an' the boy with honey.'

At length one of them flew over our heads and back in the direction we
had come from.

'Ah, ha,' said Uncle Eb, 'it's a bee tree an' we've passed it, but I'm
goin' t' keep lettin' 'em in an' out. Never heard uv a swarm o' bees
goin' fur away an' so we mus' be near the clearin'.'

In a little while we let one go that took a road of its own. The others
had gone back over our heads; this one bore off to the right in front of
us, and we followed. I was riding in the basket and was first to see the
light of the open through the tree-tops. But I didn't know what it meant
until I heard the hearty 'hurrah' of Uncle Eb.

We had come to smooth footing in a grove of maples and the clean trunks
of the trees stood up as straight as a granite column. Presently we came
out upon wide fields of corn and clover, and as we looked back upon the
grove it had a rounded front and I think of it now as the vestibule of
the great forest.

'It's a reg'lar big tomb,' said Uncle Eb, looking back over his shoulder
into the gloomy cavern of the woods.

We could see a log house in the clearing, and we made for it as fast as
our legs would carry us. We had a mighty thirst and when we came to a
little brook in the meadow we laid down and drank and drank until we
were fairly grunting with fullness. Then we filled our teapot and went
on. Men were reaping with their cradles in a field of grain and, as we
neared the log house, a woman came out in the dooryard and, lifting a
shell to her lips, blew a blast that rushed over the clearing and rang
in the woods beyond it A loud halloo came back from the men.

A small dog rushed out at Fred, barking, and, I suppose, with some lack
of respect, for the old dog laid hold of him in a violent temper and
sent him away yelping. We must have