"That's just what I--" began Uncle Andy. But he was interrupted.

"Oh! _Oh_! It's stung me!" cried the Babe shrilly, jumping to his
feet and slapping at his ear. His eyes filled with injured tears.

Uncle Andy stared at him for a moment in grave reproof. Then he, too,
sprang up as if the boulder had suddenly grown red-hot, and pawed at
his hair with both hands, dropping his pipe.

"Gee! I see why he fell down!" he cried. The Babe gave another cry,
clapped his hand to his leg where the stocking did not quite join the
short breeches, and began hopping up and down on one foot. A heavy,
pervasive hum was beginning to make itself heard.

"Come!" yelled Uncle Andy, striking at his cheek angrily and ducking
his head as if he were going to butt something. He grabbed the Babe by
one arm and rushed him to the fir thicket where the rabbits had been.

"Duck!" he ordered. "Down with you--flat!" And together they crawled
into the low-growing, dense-foliaged thicket, where they lay side by
side, face downwards.

"They won't follow us in here," murmured Uncle Andy. "They don't like
thick bushes."

"But I'm afraid--we've brought some in with us, Uncle Andy," replied
the Babe, trying very hard to keep the tears out of his voice. "I
think I hear one squealing and buzzing in my hair. _Oh_!" And he
clutched wildly at his leg.