Willie nodded. “That’s right. I’m a stupid ox not to think of that. Well, I’ll fix it.” He picked up the knife and cut two slits in each scarf. “Now we have peepholes. Put one on, and the mittens too, Jim. If the bees are in a bad mood, they can’t sting us through the buckskin and these winter clothes.” Jim put them on and then asked, “Now what do we do?” “I’ll climb up and start cutting the honey and wax away. It’s up there in a deep hole in the fork of the tree. You put your bucket at the base of the tree and I’ll try to drop the honey and wax into it. This is a beautiful day, so maybe most of the bees will be gone from their hive.” Jim watched as Willie climbed the tree. What a ridiculous sight he was, with the blue _capot_ flapping against his skinny legs. Willie thrust the long knife into the hole and began turning it slowly around and around. Only a few bees emerged and buzzed around his blue hood. “Fix the bucket, Jim,” Willie called as the honey began oozing down the tree. Jim put his bucket under the tree and began slapping at a few bees that were buzzing all around him. “Don’t fight them, Jim. It makes them angry. Just let them buzz and I don’t think they’ll sting you.” Soon Willie had rolled out so much honey and beeswax that his bucket would not hold it all. When both buckets were filled, Willie came down from the tree. “Now you carry one and I’ll carry the other.” Quite a bit of honey had trickled down the tree, so the bees stayed behind, instead of following Willie and Jim. As the boys walked back through the woods, Willie looked admiringly at Jim. “I didn’t realize you’re so much larger than I am,” Willie said. “Why, you’re as tall as lots of men. How old are you?” Jim smiled. “I guess I grew a lot while I was with the Potawatomis. I’m thir—why, Willie, I’m fourteen now. I forgot all about my birthday this year. But no wonder, I was fourteen the day after we captured Kaskaskia the fifth of July.” Willie stood as tall as he could. “Why, I’m almost as old as you, Jim. I’ll be fourteen the second of January.” Jim was almost a head taller than Willie. He looked down at the younger boy and smiled. “You will? I thought you were about twelve.” “I may be short, but I can do lots of things that men can’t do,” Willie replied. “Oh, I’m sure of that,” Jim agreed. Father Gibault was delighted with the amount of honey and wax that the boys brought back, and gave half the honey to Jim for Colonel Clark and his men. When Willie told him Jim would like to work alongside of him, Father Gibault said he would put in a good word for him to Monsieur Cerré. A few days later Jim went with Willie to the fur depot to see Monsieur Cerré. The merchant put him to work with Willie, sorting and counting the pelts which Indians and French _voyageurs_ had brought into Kaskaskia during the fall and winter.