File:Outing (1885) (14786309863).jpg

Identifier: outing55newy (find matches)
Title: Outing
Year: 1885 (1880s)
Authors:
Subjects: Leisure Sports Travel
Publisher: (New York : Outing Pub. Co.)
Contributing Library: Tisch Library
Digitizing Sponsor: Boston Library Consortium Member Libraries

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ing groan; a tot-tering moment; the men leaped to safety ;and the old tree reluctantly bowed lowerand then leaped headlong among thesmaller trees over which it had so longbeen lord. We ran forward. Bob wasstuffing a handful of leaves into the gate-way of the honey. Tie this around the bottom of yourpants, he shouted, handing me somepieces of twine. For the puzzled bees, it appeared, areprone, in this emergency, to crawl ratherthan fly. I could see a number of themmoving about the bark, wondering, nodoubt, in a sort of stupid honey-drunken-ness, what catastrophe had come uponthem. One was creeping along the backof Bobs hand. He paid no attentionto it. With saw and ax the men worked fastto cut out a slab from the trunk andgain easy access to the honey. And soon—gently, in order that no dirt mightdrop within—they lifted out the sectionand disclosed the black cavity. Thou-sands of bees emerged—some flying, butmost of them crawling. They huddledin dusky, moving masses on the trunk as
Text Appearing After Image:
DON T TRY TO BRUSH EM OFF, BOB CAUTIONED. we raised our lanterns and bent forwardto see what we had won. Wow! yelled Ross. Get you? asked Bob. Yep. Just above the eye. But at that moment a burning needlepierced my cheek, and for a short time Ilost interest in Ross. Bob and Charliewere poking into the cavity with longiron spoons. Presently they lifted out astrip of luscious, dripping comb. Gosh! Aint them bully cells! ex-claimed Bob, as he dropped the combinto one of the pails. How much—? I began, bendingforward again. An apiarian stiletto cutme short, with a thrust into my wrist. Dont twitch your skin when theylight on you, and dont try to brush emoff, Bob cautioned. He was taking out another strip ofthe glistening, golden wax, heedless ofthe bees that clung to it. Above us theleaves whispered their protest against ourdespoilment. In the flicker from our lan-terns, strange, nervous shadows leapedamong the near-by hedges. An owl was hooting sorrowfully. And Bob andCharlie scooped out

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