The Swiss Family Robinson; or, Adventures on a Desert IslandWyss, Johann David
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The Swiss Family Robinson; or, Adventures on a Desert Island
Wyss, Johann David
Family life -- Fiction; Islands -- Fiction; Survival -- Fiction
They forgot, in their eagerness, who were the tenants of this
interesting trunk. They were soon reminded of it, however, for the bees,
disturbed by this unusual noise, with an angry buzz burst out, and in an
instant attacked the causers of the annoyance; they swarmed round them,
stung them on the hands, face, and neck, settled in their hair, and
pursued them as they ran to me for assistance. It was with difficulty
that we got rid of the angry insects and were able to attend to the
boys. Jack, who had been the first to reach the hole, had fared the
worst, and was soon a most pitiable sight, his face swelled to an
extraordinary degree, and it was only by the constant application of
cold earth that the pain was alleviated. They were all eager to commence
an organized attack upon the bees at once, but for an hour or more, by
reason of their pain, they were unable to render me much assistance. In
the meanwhile I made my arrangements. I first took a large calabash
gourd, for I intended to make a beehive, that, when we had driven the
insects from their present abode, we might not lose them entirely. The
lower half of the gourd I flattened. I then cut an arched opening in the
front for a doorway, made a straw roof as a protection from the rain and
heat, and the little house was complete.
Nothing more, however, could then be done, for the irritated bees were
still angrily buzzing round the tree. I waited till dark, and then, when
all the bees had again returned to their trunk, with Fritz's assistance
I carefully stopped up every hole in the tree with wet clay, that the
bees might not issue forth next morning before we could begin
operations. Very early were we up and at work. I first took a hollow
cane, and inserted one end through the clay into the tree; down this
tube with pipe and tobacco I smoked most furiously.
The humming and buzzing that went on within was tremendous; the bees
evidently could not understand what was going to happen. I finished my
first pipeful, and putting my thumb over the end of the cane, I gave the
pipe to Fritz to refill. He did so and I again smoked. The buzzing was
now becoming less noisy, and was subsiding into a mere murmur. By the
time I had finished this second pipe all was still; the bees were
stupefied.
"Now then, Fritz," said I, "quick, with a hammer and chisel, and stand
here beside me."
He was up in a moment, and, together, we cut a small door by the side of
the hole; this door, however, we did not take out, but we left it
attached by one corner that it might be removed at a moment's notice;
then giving the bees a final dose of tobacco smoke, we opened it.
Carefully but rapidly we removed the insects, as they clung in clusters
to the sides of the tree, and placed them in the hive prepared for their
reception. As rapidly I then took every atom of wax and honey from their
storehouse, and put it in a cask I had made ready for the purpose.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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