One day, while bee-hunting, I developed a line that went toward a
farm-house where I had reason to believe no bees were kept. I followed
it up and questioned the farmer about his bees. He said he kept no
bees, but that a swarm had taken possession of his chimney, and another
had gone under the clapboards in the gable end of his house. He had
taken a large lot of honey out of both places the year before. Another
farmer told me that one day his family had seen a number of bees
examining a knot-hole in the side of his house; the next day as they
were sitting down to dinner their attention was attracted by a loud
humming noise, when they discovered a swarm of bees settling upon the
side of the house and pouring into the knot-hole. In subsequent years
other swarms came to the same place.

Apparently, every swarm of bees before it leaves the parent hive sends
out exploring parties to look up the future home. The woods and groves
are searched through and through, and no doubt the privacy of many a
squirrel and many a wood mouse is intruded upon. What cozy nooks and
retreats they do spy out, so much more attractive than the painted hive
in the garden, so much cooler in summer and so much warmer in winter!

The bee is in the main an honest citizen; she prefers legitimate to
illegitimate business; she is never an outlaw until her proper sources
of supply fail; she will not touch honey as long as honey-yielding
flowers can be found; she always prefers to go to the fountain-head,
and dislikes to take her sweets at second hand. But in the fall, after
the flowers have failed, she can be tempted. The bee-hunter takes
advantage of this fact; he betrays her with a little honey. He
wants to steal her stores, and he first encourages her to steal his,
then follows the thief home with her booty. This is the whole trick of
the bee-hunter. The bees never suspect his game, else by taking a