But Ulysses was ever my pattern and model: that man of infinite patience and resource.
So, though the sun might burn and the air become suffocating in that close corner, and the quivering line of heat across the meadow make the eyes dizzy to watch, yet not a limb must be moved.

The black flies came in crowds; but they are not so tormenting if you plunge your face in the grass, though they titillate the back of the hand as they run over it.
Under the bramble bush was a bury that did not look much used; and once or twice a great blue fly came out of it, the buzz at first sounding hollow and afar off and becoming clearer as it approached the mouth of the hole.

There was the carcass of a dead rabbit inside no doubt.
A humble-bee wandering along--they are restless things--buzzed right under my hat, and became entangled in the grass by my ear.

Now we knew by experience in taking their honey that they could sting sharply if irritated, though good-tempered by nature.

How he 'burred' and buzzed and droned!--till by-and-by, crawling up the back of my head, he found an open space and sailed away.