As will be remembered by the early settlers of Michigan, bee hunting and
wild honey constituted one of the comforts and luxuries of life. Father
being somewhat expert in finding bees found a number of trees, one of
which was a large whitewood and stood full a mile or more, from home. One
day he and I cut it down. It proved to be a very good tree, as far as
honey was concerned. We easily filled our buckets and returned home,
leaving a large quantity in the tree, which we intended to return and get
as soon as possible. When we returned we found to our surprise, that the
tree had caught fire and was burning quite lively where the honey was
secreted. The fire originated from the burning of some straw that father
had used in singeing the bees to prevent their ferocious attacks and
stinging. We found that the fire had melted some of the honey and that it
was running into a cavity in the tree which the bees had cleaned out. It
looked as nice as though it had dripped into a wooden bowl. Father said
there was a chance to save it, and we dipped out a pailful of nice clear
honey, except that it was tinged, somewhat, in color and made a little
bitter by the fire.

This formed one of the ingredients used in making the metheglin. We also
secured some more very nice honey. Father said, judging from the amount
we got, he should think the tree contained at least a hundred pounds of
good honey, and I should think so too. And he said "This truly is a
goodly land; it flows with milk and honey." He also said, "I will make a
barrel of metheglin, which will be a very delicious drink for my family
and a kind of a substitute for the luxuries they left behind. It will
slake the thirst of the friendly pioneers, who may favor us with a call
in our new forest home; or those friends who come to talk over the
adventures of days now past, and the prospects of better days to come."