ck, just where she could not by any possible antics get it off for
herself. When the little thing flew she fairly reeled under her burden,
tumbled down on to a leaf, recovered herself, and at last flew off on
her old line.

"Now, let's go and cook luncheon," said Jonathan, "and leave her to work
it out."

"But how can I move? I'm a landmark."

"Oh, leave your handkerchief. Anything white will do."

So I tied my handkerchief to a goldenrod stalk, and we went back to the
brook. We made a fire on a flat stone, under which we could hear the
brook running, broiled our chops on long, forked sticks, broiled some
"beef-steak" mushrooms that we had found on a chestnut stump, and ended
with water from the spring under the giant birch tree. Blue jays came
noisily to investigate us; a yellow-hammer floated softly down to the
branch overhead, gave a little purring cluck of surprise, and flew off
again, with a flare of tawny-yellow wings. In the warmth of the Indian
summer noon the shade of the woods was pleasant, and I let Jonathan go
back to the bees while I lay on a dry slope above the brook and watched
the slim, tall chestnuts swaying in the wind. It is almost like being at
sea to lie in the woods and look up at the trees. Their waving tops seem
infinitely far away, but the sky beyond seems very near, and one can
almost feel the earth go round.

As I lay there I heard a snapping of twigs and rustling of leaves. It
was the wrong direction for Jonathan, and I turned gently, expecting
nothing smaller than a deer--for deer are growing plentiful now in old
New England--and met the shameless face of a jerky little red squirrel!
He clung to a chestnut trunk and examined me, twitching all over the
while, then whisked himself upside down and looked at me from that
standpoint, mounted to a branch, clung to the under side and looked
again, pretended fright and vanished behind the limb, only to peer over
it the next moment to see what I looked like from there--all the time
clucking and burring like an alarm clock under a pillow.

The rude thing had broken the spell of quiet, and I got up, remembering
the bees, and wandered back to the sunny field, now palpitating with
waves of heat. Jonathan was nowhere to be seen, but as I approached the
box I discovered him beside it flat on his back among the weeds.

"Sh-h-h," he warned, "don't frighten them. There were a lot of them when
I got here and I've been watching their line. They all go st