"Waal, I can say, I LIKE it," answered Gershom, first passing his
thumb along the edge of the axe, in order to ascertain its state;
then swinging the tool, with a view to try its "hang."

"I can't say much for your axe, STRANGER, for this helve has no
tarve to't, to my mind; but, sich as it is, down must come this elm,
though ten millions of bees should set upon me for my pains."

This was no idle boast of Waring's. Worthless as he was in so many
respects, he was remarkably skilful with the axe, as he now proved
by the rapid manner in which he severed the trunk of the large elm
on which he was at work. He inquired of Ben where he should "lay the
tree," and when it came clattering down, it fell on the precise spot
indicated. Great was the confusion among the bees at this sudden
downfall of their long-cherished home. The fact was not known to
their enemy, but they had inhabited that tree for a long time; and
the prize now obtained was the richest he had ever made in his
calling. As for the insects, they filled the air in clouds, and all
the invaders deemed it prudent to withdraw to some little distance
for a time, lest the irritated and wronged bees should set upon them
and take an ample revenge. Had they known their power, this might
easily have been done, no ingenuity of man being able to protect him
against the assaults of this insignificant-looking animal, when
unable to cover himself, and the angry little heroes are in earnest.
On the present occasion, however, no harm befell the marauders. So
suddenly had the hive tumbled that its late occupants appeared to be
astounded, and they submitted to their fate as men yield to the
power of tempests and earthquakes. In half an hour most of them were
collected on an adjacent tree, where doubtless a consultation on the
mode of future proceedings was held, after their fashion.