They also noticed, and marked, with the axe, several trees where there were bees, intending to come in the cold weather, and cut them down.

Louis's father was a great and successful bee-hunter; and Louis rather prided himself on having learned something of his father's skill in that line.

Here, where flowers were so abundant and water plentiful, the wild bees seemed to be abundant also; besides, the open space between the trees, admitting the warm sunbeam freely, was favourable both for the bees and the flowers on which they fed, and Louis talked joyfully of the fine stores of honey they should collect in the fell.

He had taught little Fanchon, a small French spaniel of his father's, to find out the trees where the bees hived, and also the nests of the ground-bees, and she would bark at the foot of the tree, or scratch with her feet on the ground, as the other dogs barked at the squirrels or the woodchucks; but Fanchon was far away, and Wolfe was old, and would learn no new tricks, so Louis knew he had nothing but his own observation and the axe to depend upon for procuring honey.
The boys had been unsuccessful for some days past in fishing; neither perch nor sunfish, pink roach nor mud-pouts _[FN: All these fish are indigenous to the fresh waters of Canada.]_ were to be caught.
However, they found water-mussels by groping in the sand, and cray-fish among the gravel at the edge of the water only; the last pinched their fingers very spitefully.

The mussels were not very palateable, for want of salt; but hungry folks must not be dainty, and Louis declared them very good when well roasted, covered up with hot embers.