The other swarm came out about one o'clock of a hot July day, and at
once showed symptoms that alarmed the keeper, who, however, threw
neither dirt nor water. The house was situated on a steep side-hill.
Behind it the ground rose, for a hundred rods or so, at an angle of
nearly forty-five degrees, and the prospect of having to chase them up
this hill, if chase them we should, promised a good trial of wind at
least; for it soon became evident that their course lay in this
direction. Determined to have a hand, or rather a foot, in the chase,
I threw off my coat and hurried on, before the swarm was yet fairly
organized and under way. The route soon led me into a field of
standing rye, every spear of which held its head above my own.
Plunging recklessly forward, my course marked to those watching from
below by the agitated and wriggling grain, I emerged from the miniature
forest just in time to see the runaways disappearing over the top of
the hill, some fifty rods in advance of me. Lining them as well as I
could, I soon reached the hill-top, my breath utterly gone and the
perspiration streaming from every pore of my skin.
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