"Oh! well," replied Landy with a grin that told he had only been drawing the other on for a purpose; "there might be an old king bee that had a detestation for red, just the same as a bull does, and he'd make it so warm for us we'd have to get out of the woods in a hurry."
"Rats!" the other shot back at him, "bees don't bother about what they see; I've been told by an old bee man that it's _sounds_ they get mad at. And then there ain't such a thing as a king bee anyhow--queens, drones and workers make up a colony. Oh! I ain't quite such a ninny as some people think. So I guess this beautiful red sweater goes along."
"All right, if you're willing to take such a terrible risk it's nothing to the rest of us, is it, fellows?" Landy told him, with a chuckle; and then went on to add: "Now, we'll carry a little sugar water along to use if we happen to run across any bees flying around, which at this late day ain't likely. Best we can do is to watch every tree-top and try to hear the buzzing of a swarm of young bees. They come out every fine day as long as the weather lets 'em, around noontime, and try their wings.
An old bee hunter can get on to the little hum far off and locate the hive that way. Let's see if we've got ears worth anything."
"The best of luck go with you!" called out Elmer, who was busy with something or other; "and if you need any help come back after the rest of the bunch. I see you're carrying our camp ax, Lil Artha; be careful and don't lose it, because we need that same thing right along."
"Don't worry about that, Elmer," the elongated scout shouted back. "I wouldn't let that get away from me for all the honey in seven counties.
But in case we do find a tree that looks good to us I'm ready to swing the ax for all I'm worth," and so saying he strode away after the other three.
That left just Elmer, Toby and George in camp.
"I'd be tickled half to death if they _did_ find a tree, and got a lot of honey," Toby remarked, grinning in anticipation, and licking his lips at the same time; "and I can just see that Lil Artha whooping things when the tree drops, and he rushes headlong in among the branches to scoop up some of the sweet stuff that bursts out of the crack, with a million bees swarming around his ears. If I was you, Elmer, I'd get some witch hazel ready to put on stings, for they'll need it right bad."
"Time enough for that when they report a find!" declared Elmer, who evidently did not have a great deal of confidence in the ability of Landy Smith to locate a hive, especially at that time of year, when the little insects were apt to be lying more or less dormant.
An hour passed by. Then Elmer began to wonder what could be detaining Chatz so long, for he several times looked in the direction where he knew the old deserted Cartaret house must lie, as though half expecting to see the Southern boy come on the full run, with some wonderful story of sights he had seen, or imagined he had, which was the same thing.
When Chatz did appear he was walking slowly, and his face had an expression of subdued disappointment resting on it. Apparently, then, all his prowling in and out of the building could not have met with any particular reward. In other words the Cartaret ghost was not very accommodating, and respectfully declined to make its appearance at such an unheard of hour as three in the afternoon; when every one knew that all respectable spirits only manifest themselves around the midnight hour.
"You didn't run across anything new, did you, Chatz?" Elmer asked him, as he came into camp, took a drink of cool water, and threw himself on the ground to rest.
"Not a single thing, suh; but then I didn't really expect to in broad daylight. Wait till to-night, and I reckon there may be something doing," and then Chatz allowed his brow to show three wrinkles that told of perplexity, for he had heard Elmer chuckle; and all at once it struck him that on the former occasion the scout master had gone back into the house after he and the other comrades had left; and once more the Southern boy who had the vein of superstition in his make-up asked himself what Elmer could have seen on that occasion to make him look so knowing, and have that queer smile cross his face whenever the ghost was mentioned.
But Elmer did not offer to explain, and so Chatz had to content himself with the thought that perhaps on the coming night the veil of secrecy might be lifted from the mystery.
CHAPTER XI
SACKING THE FOREST STORE-HOUSE
TOBY had insisted upon stowing that wonderful aeroplane appendix which he called an "aviator's life-saver parachute," in the bottom of the wagon when starting out on this camping trip. He was working at it while helping to keep camp the first afternoon after their arrival.
"All I hope is," he went on to say, when Elmer chanced to come around close to where he straddled a log, and did some heavy sewing with the toughest waxed string he could use, "that I find a chance to try out this thing again while we're in this region. If no other place shows up I might climb to the top of the tower on the old house, and jump off there. How high would you guess, off-hand, that might be, Elmer?"
"Oh! perhaps thirty-five or forty feet," replied the other, carelessly, and hardly noting what Toby was saying, because just then he had caught a peculiar sound that came from some little distance away.
"Do you hear that, Elmer?" called out George.
"Yes, and I was trying to make out what it was when you spoke," replied the scout master. "I reckon it must be some one busy with an ax, for the blows are repeated as regular as clock-work."
"And our chums took the camp ax away with them?" suggested Toby, looking up, an eager glow commencing to show in his eyes.
"Yes, and they went off in that direction, too," added George.
With that the four camp keepers smiled at each other.
"Can it be possible they've found a bee-tree, after all?" asked George, who, despite his yearning for a honeycomb, could not overcome his skeptical disposition, and believe that such a delightful consummation of the bee hunt had come about.
"Listen to that whanging, will you?" cried Toby; "nobody but Lil Artha could use an ax like that. As sure as you live they must have struck something. Tell me about the babes in the woods, will you; some people wade in good luck every time they start out!"
"Another fellow has taken hold, because the sound changes," George observed, sagaciously; "and p'raps Ty Collins is swinging the ax now. He can hew close to the line; fact is, I never saw a scout who could chop as evenly as Ty. Wow! did you hear that crash, fellows? A tree went down that time, whether there's any honey in the same or not. I'll only believe it when I see, smell and taste the nectar."
A short time afterwards they heard some one coming on the run. Then a figure broke out of the brush, waving excitedly.
"Hi! get your buckets, and come along to help gather the harvest!" Lil Artha was shouting as he approached, half out of breath.
"Then you sure enough did find a bee-tree, and it isn't any joke?"
demanded the incredulous George.
"Take a look at me, and then say if I show up like a joke!" demanded the long-legged scout, indignantly.
Everybody laughed as he twisted his face up, and tried to look serious.
It was an utter impossibility with that lump ornamenting the end of his nose, others gradually swelling his cheeks, while various suspicious signs behind his ears marked the places where the angry little bees had left their stings.
"No hurry, Lil Artha," said Elmer; "let me rub your face with this witch hazel, and put a little ointment on to relieve the pain and reduce the swelling. You're puffing out under the eyes right now, and if something isn't done you'll have to be led around for a while."
While Elmer was doctoring the battered comrade George kept plying him with questions, as though he had great difficulty in believing the glorious truth.
"I hope it isn't only an old hornet's nest you've struck," he went on to say, doubtfully; "but then there wouldn't be any at this time of year, I guess. Sure you saw real honey, did you, Lil Artha?"
"And smelled it too!" cried the afflicted scout. "Why, the old tree burst open when it fell, and you just ought to see what gallons of the stuff fills the hollow trunk away up near the top. My! but the bees are mad, and swarming around there by the million! I ran in among 'em, thinking to snatch a comb, and get away with it, but they swooped down on me, and I had to cut for it like fun. Elmer, however, can we get some of that honey without being stung to death? Oh! if only I had one of Daddy Green's bee head-nets that he loans to people when he's showing them the inside of a hive in his apiary, wouldn't it be the boss; and rubber gloves to go with the same."
"Perhaps I might rig up a net somehow," Elmer mused; "I've got a piece of mosquito netting in my bag that I use for a minnow seine, and that ought to make several head-nets. Let's see if we can find any gloves that'll help keep our hands out of danger."
After a hunt through all the traps the boys managed to secure enough coverings to answer the purpose after a clumsy fashion. Meanwhile George and Toby had hastily gathered what utensils they had with them capable of holding some of the honey. Everybody was wildly excited, for they had never really passed through an experience of this sort. Bee trees they had heard of many times, but that one should actually be discovered when they were camping out, and yearning for something of a sweet nature, seemed almost too good to be true.
"All ready here, Lil Artha!" exclaimed George; "and now lead us to your wonderful wild honey hive. I just want to see it with my own eyes, that's all."
Lil Artha looked severely at him, that is, as well as he could with those half-shut eyes of his, and then remarked sarcastically:
"Well, if you ain't the limit, George; I sure hope you _do_ see the plain evidence, yes, and _feel_ some of 'em too, like I did. They say the poison of bee stings is used in medicine, and it's mighty good for some things. P'raps a dose of the same'd cure you of your questioning everything there is. But come on, everybody."
Elmer did not know whether they were exactly wise in abandoning the camp, even for a brief time; but he felt that it would be hard to keep any one there; so he concluded to take the slight risk.
Lil Artha was a pretty good scout. He had noted directions as he went forth on the expedition, so that in returning to the camp he had made what might be called in more senses than one a "bee-line"; and now the trail was so plainly marked that even a fellow with one eye, or half-closed ones, could follow it back to where the other three scouts awaited their coming, hiding behind the brush so as not to attract too much attention from the buzzing horde of insects.
The netting was fashioned into head protectors, the ends being tucked well down in their coats. Then donning heavy gloves the two boys selected for the work, George and Ty Collins, started boldly into that whirling mass of excited bees.
They shortly came out bearing pans full of splendid honey, and doubtless a considerable number of stings in spite of all the precautions taken against this evil.
"Next time look for a little fresher stock," Elmer told them; "for while this is all right, and like amber in color, you'll find that it's last year's gathering. Split the tree further up, and get the latest stuff!"
So Ty took the ax back with him; while George worked a sort of smoke smudge Elmer had prepared, in order to help stupefy the bees. It did the business in great shape, too, as every bee keeper uses this means for keeping the little insects from paying too much attention to him when he is working with their hive. They seem to fancy that their home is in deadly danger of being consumed, and every working bee immediately burdens itself down with all the honey it can carry, and for the time being renders itself helpless to use its sting.