It was near five o'clock when we arrived at the solitary cabin of a settler, and though we found no inhabitant about the place, we halted, and encamped near the spring. Our horses were scarce unsaddled, when a man, who seemed to be the occupant of the house, came up, and informed us, that half a mile further on our way, we should find a house and good accommodations. Accordingly, we again mounted our horses, and rode on to "Squire Billingsby's," as our destined host was entitled, where we met a very hospitable reception.[6] As the night approached, we observed that several young women and men, the sons and daughters of the family, disappeared, going to the cottages of the neighbours (the nearest of which seemed to be the one we had passed) to spend the night, that they might leave their beds for our use. Our hospitable landlord had many swarms of bees, some of which had been taken from the neighbouring forests. Wishing to make the addition of some honey to the bountiful table spread for our entertainment, he went with a light, and carefully removing the top of one of the hives, took out as much of the comb as he wished, and then replaced the top without killing or injuring the bees. In this manner, he assured us, honey may {126} at any time be taken without destroying the insects, who will, if the season admits, speedily make up the deficiency thus produced. Some feather beds having been given up by their ordinary occupants expressly for our use, we could not well avoid accepting the accommodation thus offered, but instead of proving an indulgence, we found the use of them partook more of the nature of a punishment. We spent an unquiet and almost sleepless night, and arose on the following morning unrefreshed, and with a painful feeling of soreness in our bones, so great a change had the hunter's life produced upon our habits. Those of the party who spread their blankets, and passed the night on the floor of the cabin, rested much more pleasantly.