After we got to the Baker Farm, we repaired to the tree I had marked, a hemlock two feet, and a half in diameter on a side-hill a rod from the pond. I had cut my initials in the bark in the winter,* for custom gives the first finder of the nest a right to the honey and to cut down the tree to get it and pay the damages, and if he cuts his initials on it no other hunter will interfere.
Not seeing any signs of bees from the ground, one of the party climbed the tree to where the leading stem had formerly been broken off, leaving a crotch it about eighteen feet from the ground, and there lie found a small hole into which he thrust a stick two or three feet down the tree, and dropped it to the bottom; and, putting in his hand, he took out some old comb. The bees had probably died.
H. D. Thoreau, Journal, September 30, 1852
*See March 4, 1852: "I cut my initials on the bee tree."
H. D. Thoreau, Journal, September 30, 1852
*See March 4, 1852: "I cut my initials on the bee tree."
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