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The Mason-Bees by Jean-Henri Fabre
page 36 of 210 (17%)

Hitherto, the operation has been favoured by calm weather; but now
things become complicated. The heat is stifling and the sky becomes
stormy. A stiff breeze springs up, blowing from the south, the very
direction which my Bees must take to return to the nest. Can they
overcome this opposing current and cleave the aerial torrent with
their wings? If they try, they will have to fly close to the ground,
as I now see the Bees do who continue their foraging; but soaring to
lofty regions, whence they can obtain a clear view of the country, is,
so it seems to me, prohibited. I am therefore very apprehensive as to
the success of my experiment when I return to Orange, after first
trying to steal some fresh secret from the Aygues Mason-bee of the
Pebbles.

I have scarcely reached the house before Aglae greets me, her cheeks
flushed with excitement:

'Two!' she cries. 'Two came back at twenty minutes to three, with a
load of pollen under their bellies!'

A friend of mine had appeared upon the scene, a grave man of the law,
who on hearing what was happening, had neglected code and stamped
paper and insisted upon also being present at the arrival of my
Carrier-pigeons. The result interested him more than his case about a
party-wall. Under a tropical sun, in a furnace heat reflected from the
wall of the shed, every five minutes he climbed the ladder bare-
headed, with no other protection against sunstroke than his thatch of
thick, grey locks. Instead of the one observer whom I had posted, I
found two good pairs of eyes watching the Bees' return.

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