CHAPTER IV
BAITING THE HONEY BEES
The Indian had dumped his seventy-five pound pack on the sleepingChunky.
Chunky's howls grew more lusty as the pack was jerked from his body.
"Are you hurt?" begged Cale.
"I'm killed! I'm killed!"
"You are pretty noisy for a dead man. Let's see how badly you arehurt."
"That tree fell right-right across me."
"It wasn't a tree. Charlie John dropped his pack on you," the guideinformed him.
"He did, eh?" cried Stacy, sitting up.
"Yes, but he didn't see you. You were lying here in the shadow.Perhaps I am the one to blame. I told him to drop his pack over here,not thinking that you were there."
"Why don't you folks finish me in a decent way, if you are so anxiousto get rid of me?" demanded the fat boy, dropping over on his backand commencing to moan again.
"Here you, stop that nonsense!" commanded Tad Butler, grabbing Stacyand jerking him to his feet. "Any fellow who can raise a rumpus likethat isn't hurt at all. So this is Charlie John, is it?"
"This is the man," nodded the guide.
Tad shook hands with the Indian, who grunted his acknowledgment. Theothers made themselves known to the half-breed and after a time thecamp settled down to quietness, Chunky disturbing the quiet atintervals by a groan, for he really had sustained a severe jolt.
The next morning they were up at daylight. After an early breakfastthe party set out for the dark blue ridge in the distance, and afteran uneventful day they made camp at the foot of Old Bald Mountain.They had reached the forest. The tall spruce trees were sighingoverhead, the odor of pine was strong in their nostrils, and thebracing air put new life into every one of the party.
At supper that night Tad chanced to mention that he had been stung bya bee just before they made camp. Cale was interested at once. Heasked where this had occurred. Tad told him.
"We shall have some honey in the morning," said the guide with asmile.
"How will you find it?" asked the Professor.
"I will lure the bees. I will show you after supper. You lead meto the place where you got the sting."
This Tad did, the boys following, full of interest. Vaughn eyed thetrees about them with keen glances.
"I guess we shall have to set a trap for them," he decided, drawing asmall vial from a receptacle in his belt. Shaking the bottle well hedrew the cork and touched it against the trunk of a tree, after whichhe corked the bottle and replaced it.
"What is that stuff?" asked the Professor.
"Oil of anise."
"What does it do?"
"Calls the bees. If there are any about here you will see them inthe morning. It will call bears and several other animals, too,"smiled the guide.
"Will this call the bears?" urged Stacy.
"No, I haven't used enough of it. Besides, there are no bears downhere. We may find bear after we have got deeper into the woods. Itis bees we are after at the present moment."
The boys marveled greatly at this. They had never heard of this usefor oil of anise, and they were full of curiosity as to the outcomeof the experiment.
At daybreak, on the following morning, Vaughn awakened the boys.
"Time to look for bees," he said. "Charlie, you get breakfast whilewe are away. Make some biscuit or cakes. You know how, don't you?"
"Me know."
Cale got his rope----not a lasso, but a rope about seven feet longand very limber. Thus equipped, all hands started out, Vaughn inthe lead, his glances everywhere.
"Ou--ouch!" howled Chunky. "I'm stung! I'm stung!"
"That's good," cried the guide. "There he is!"
"Good? Good?" moaned the fat boy, dancing about holding his nose,the part that had been touched by the stinger of a bee.
"I meant the bee, not the sting," hastily explained the guide.
"There are more of them," called Tad. "My, they're all here, aren'tthey?"
"Watch them, boys. We must find out what direction they take afterthey leave here."
"There goes one to the left," cried Ned.
Cale started on a run. He halted a few paces from the tree.
"Spread out over the place. If any of you sees a bee, call to me.They don't live far from here. I can tell by the way they act. Herecome more of them."
The guide appeared to have the eyes of a hawk. He could see a beewhere the others were able to discover nothing at all. Calefollowed the trail like a hound, except that his nose and eyes werein the air instead of on the ground.
Vaughn, after running some fifteen or twenty rods, dodging trees,leaping rocks and fallen trunks, came to a sudden halt. The rest ofthe party was floundering some distance in his rear.
"I think we are close to it now. Use your eyes. Look for a hole ina tree or a crotch that looks as if it might hold a bees' nest.This looks to me like a bee tree," he announced.
The guide unslung his rope, and, taking off his boots, passed therope about the trunk of the tree, holding the free ends in his hands,and leaning well back he began to climb. This was accomplished byfrequently hitching the rope up, then taking a step upward.
The boys watched his ascent with fascinated eyes. They had neverseen anything like this. Vaughn was as agile as a cat.
"I believe I could do that," declared Chunky.
"Try it," urged the boys.
The fat boy did. After several attempts he succeeded in walking upthe trunk of a tree for fully ten feet. Chunky grinned down at themjeeringly. "You fellows are not so smart as you think you are, eh?Why, with a little practice I believe I could walk on a ceiling withmy head down. I'd be the human fly, then, wouldn't I? I--Yeow! I'mfalling!"
The fat boy had leaned forward, forgetting in his enthusiasm that hemust throw his full weight on the rope by leaning backward. Ofcourse the rope slipped, and down came Stacy.
Tad sprang forward to catch him. He only partially succeeded. Stacystruck the ground and rolled off, howling lustily, while Tad Butlerwent sprawling on his back. To add to the fat boy's discomfituretwo bees struck him under the right eye, bringing from the lad freshhowls of pain. By this time, Cale had reached the part of the treewhere he believed the bees' store of honey might be found. There wasnothing there. Tad had turned his attention to the tree that Chunkytried to climb. About twenty-five feet up he had made out a broadcrotch, and as a ray of light from the rising sun shot across thecrotch the boy thought he saw some bees dart out. At least he wassure he had seen several dark streaks cross the bar of light.
"I think they are up this tree, Mr. Vaughn. Shall I try it?"
"No, you may get stung and fall down. I will be there in a minute."
The guide descended much faster than he had gone up. Reaching theground, he eyed the tree critically, then shinned up it with somewhatmore speed than he had climbed in the first instance.
"This is the bee tree," he called down before he got to the crotch.Cale then hastily got down, covered his face with a head protector ofnetting, put on his gloves, then went up again. No sooner had hereached the crotch than a black swarm enveloped his head and body.The infuriated bees were attacking him from all sides.
"Anything there?" called Tad.
"I should say there is! I won't take it all."
"How are you going to get the honey down?" asked Ned.
"I will pass it down to you. I have a long rope with me."
Wrapping several combs of honey in a second piece of netting, whichhe fastened to the end of his rope, the guide lowered it to thewaiting hands of the Pony Rider Boys. It was a sticky mess. StacyBrown was so full of anticipation that he forgot his stings for themoment, and his were the first hands to reach the bundle. As hegrasped it, Stacy uttered a piercing scream and clapped both handsto his eyes. His head was covered with the angry bees, and they werepeppering every exposed part of his face.
"Oh, wow!" howled the fat boy, starting away on a run. He fell overa l
og and went rolling and groveling in the brush and dead leaves.
"Have you anything that will help him, Professor?" asked Tad. "Iguess he has been pretty badly stung."
"Yes, there's some ammonia in my kit at the camp. I'll take himback."
"Let me do it, Professor," offered Ned.
"Very good."
Ned hastened to the suffering Chunky and, assisting him up, led theboy back to the camp. Ned found the ammonia, but by this time thefat boy's eyes were swollen almost shut. In applying the ammonia,Rector accidentally held the mouth of the bottle under the patient'snose. Chunky took a deep breath. The fat boy's howls called theothers to camp on the run.
"He--he did it on purpose," wailed Stacy as they came running to thescene demanding to know what fresh disaster had befallen Chunky.
"I didn't do it on purpose," protested Ned indignantly. "I was tryingto help him. It isn't my fault that he took a smell of the stuff. Iwas nearly strangled by it myself. That is what I get for trying tobe a good fellow. You doctor yourself."
"Let me attend to him," said the Professor, getting down on his kneesto examine the swollen face. "You did get stung, didn't you?"
"Strange none of the rest of us was stung," wondered Walter.
"They must have known that Chunky was the easy mark," grinned Ned."But I am sorry for you, Chunky. I would rather have been stungmyself."
"I wish you had been," moaned the fat boy. "It would have served youright."
"That will do," rebuked the Professor.
"Did you get any honey?" stammered the suffering Chunky.
"About twenty-five pounds of it," answered Vaughn triumphantly,coming up at this juncture, bearing his prize into camp.
"Give me some of it!" cried Stacy.
"Yes, give the poor child a taste," begged Ned. "It may lead him toforget his troubles, and incidentally give us a rest from his howls."
A liberal chunk was broken off and handed to Stacy, who sat upinstantly and began munching it contentedly, peering out throughthe narrow slits between lids that were swollen almost shut.
"Be careful," warned Tad. "There may be a bee in the comb."
"I'll eat it if there is," mumbled Stacy. "It's good."
"We can see that," grinned Ned.
After making away with this piece, Stacy demanded more. To keep himquiet they gave the fat boy another chunk. Breakfast was about readyto serve when Stacy again woke the echoes with his howls. This timethere was a new note in his tone. Instead of holding his hands tohis face, Stacy was holding his stomach, groaning dismally, moaningand rolling over and over.
"For goodness' sake, what is the matter with that boy now?" demandedWalter.
"He is crying for more honey," scoffed Ned.
"Fat boy git pain under belt," volunteered Charlie John.
The boys looked at each other and burst out laughing.
"I was waiting for that," nodded Cale.
"For what?" questioned Tad.
"For the report. Any fellow who can eat a pound of rich honey beforebreakfast is entitled to have a stomach ache a yard wide. Give hima cup of hot coffee."
"Wait, I will fix him up," said the Professor.
In a moment he was forcing a draught between the unwilling lips ofthe fat boy. It was a hot dose, too, and it brought fresh moans fromStacy, but it had its effect, and in a few minutes Stacy was able tosit up and take interest in the breakfast that was now being served.
"Give--give me some honey," begged Chunky.
"I think you have had enough for the present," warned Vaughn.
"I want some honey," insisted the fat boy.
"No more honey today," answered the Professor incisively. "Stacy,what are we going to do with you?"
"Give me honey."
"We can't be bothered with you in this way. You will have toexercise better judgment, or I shall be forced to send you home.We are out for an enjoyable trip, not to carry along an indiscreetyoung man like yourself," warned Professor Zepplin.
"I--I can't help it if I get stung, can I?" muttered Chunky.
"No, but you need not permit your eyes to get bigger than yourstomach."
"Bigger than my stomach? Why--I can't see out of my eyes now.Bigger than my stomach? Pshaw!"
"We will drop the subject for the present," decided the Professorsharply, whereat Stacy subsided for the time being. Owing to thelad's condition, however, the party concluded not to start on untillater in the day, Mr. Vaughn offering to give the others someinstruction in woodcraft to fill up the time from then until theafternoon. Professor Zepplin treated the bee stings, Stacy taking acertain sense of pride in his condition because it made him feel thathe was a sort of martyr.
The honey was delicious, and the boys ate too much of it, but nonewould admit that he suffered any ill effects. Poor Chunky did notget another taste all the rest of the day. Yet the fat boy, whilenursing his stings, was planning something that would fill the campof the Pony Rider Boys with excitement and give them a thrill thatwould last them for some days.