"`Well,' says I, `honey is sweet, though it gives a man a bad _pense_, as the Royal motter says, and I'm for follering him.' So up I got, and that bird he jes' flew off, lighting here an' lighting there, so as I could keep up, and after a mile he sot still as death on a thorn bush. "`Is this the place?' says I. "The honey-bird kep' quiet, but he jes' turn his eye on me all of a sparkle. "Well, I jes' sniffed aroun' and squinted aroun', and in a brace of shakes I spotted the honey nest in a hollow ant-hill. Well, I scooted back to the house for a bucket, and after smokin' the bees, got out fifty pound weight of the finest sealed honey, not forgetting to set a piece of comb with young bees in it for the bird. "Well, Bolo was pretty sick when he saw me come in with that bucket full, and he was standing there saying he knew all along that bird was a good bird, but he didn't want to find the honey seeing as it was on my farm, and he'd be sure to find it first, whereby he could claim half, which was against hospitality. Right there, sonny, that there bird come and perched on the roof. `Chet-chet-chee!' says he, as excited as if he hadn't had a meal for a month. I see it was the same bird, for there was a stickiness about his head. "`Oh, aie;' says Bolo, then he shouted from his chest. `My little friend in the grey suit, lead on!' "Well, the bird flew off, and Bolo, he went after, whistling and calling it good names. I jest pottered about by the house into the afternoon, looking out every now and ag'in to see if Bolo were coming back, when of a sudden I see him tearing acrost the veld. He shot by me into the house, and hang me if he didn't bang the door in my face, and at the same time that honey-bird lighted on the roof. You never see sich a sight as that bird. He opened his mouth, spread his wings, rolled about and laughed fit to bust himself. Bymby he flew away with a final screech, and Bolo opened the door, his natrally black face being green, his lips curled back from his teeth, and his eyes rolling. I up with a beaker of water and threw it in his face to cool him off--and he came round. "`Did you find the honey-tree?' says I. "`Honey-tree!' says he, and his eyes began to roll ag'in, as though he were trying to look inside his head. `There were no honey-tree. It was a bad bird I knew it, I told you, and you would not believe the words of the wise man. I am going--where are my kerries?' "`What happened?'