Consequently, the fragments lay
in full view of the spot where the halt was made. A little to
Gershom's surprise, Ben now produced his spy-glass, which he
levelled with much earnestness toward the tree. The bee-hunter,
however, well knew his business, and was examining into the state of
the insects whom he had so violently invaded the night before. The
air was filled with them, flying above and around the tree; a
perfect cloud of the little creatures hovering directly over the
hole, as if to guard its treasure.
"Waal," said Gershom, in his drawling way, when le Bourdon had taken
a long look with the glass, "I don't see much use in spy-glassin' in
that fashion. Spy-glassin' may do out on the lake, if a body has
only the tools to do it with; but here, in the openin's, nature's
eyes is about as good as them a body buys in the stores."
"Take a look at them bees, and see what a fret they're in," returned
Ben, handing the glass to his companion. "As long as I've been in
the business, I've never seen a colony in such a fever. Commonly, a
few hours after the bees find that their tree is down, and their
plans broken into, they give it up, and swarm; looking for a new
hive, and setting about the making more food for the next winter;
but here are all the bees yet, buzzing above the hole, as if they
meant to hold out for a siege.
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