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Updated: May 23, 2025
Then right under my bee-swollen feet swung a small black kettle, suspended by a chain round its bail, and filled with a yellowish substance, burning bluely. It was brimstone, of which we had a supply for fastening bolts in the rocks. Lancy was trying to smoke the bees off. "Back oscillated the kettle out of my sight. But the swarm had got the benefit of its contents and didn't like them.
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