Honeybee Mystery Read Free

are?”
    Benny smiled. “Yep. We’ve solved lots of mysteries!”
    â€œThere hasn’t been one yet they couldn’t figure out,” Grandfather added seriously.
    Clay looked at his wife. She shrugged her shoulders and nodded.
    â€œWell, why not?” he said, getting up from the table. “If you can solve this little mystery, you can have all the honey you want. How about that?”
    â€œGrandfather would love that,” Violet said.
    â€œOkay, then,” Clay said as he led them out the door and into the sunny afternoon. “Let me take you out back and show you what’s going on.”

CHAPTER 2
    â€œ Don’t Sneeze, Henry! ”
    T he Shermans kept their bees in a grove of oak trees behind one of the cornfields. On the other side of the grove was a gently sloping meadow filled with beautiful wildflowers.
    â€œWe never planned to go into the bee business,” Clay told the Aldens, “but not long after we bought this farm, one of our neighbors came over and said, ‘You know, the last owner always thought that field of wildflowers would be a perfect place to keep bees.’ So Dottie and I decided to give it a try.”
    In and around the grove were about fifty artificial beehives. They looked like small, rectangular towers. Each tower was actually a stack of boxes, and each box contained a separate hive. Hundreds of little brown bees buzzed around them.
    â€œWhat’s this thing over here?” Benny asked, pointing to a low, square table upon which sat a large basket that was shaped kind of like an igloo.
    â€œOh, that’s called a skep,” Clay told them. “It’s an old-style beehive. Apiarists — that’s the fancy word for beekeepers — used to house their bees in those things a long time ago, before these modern hives were invented.”
    â€œDo the bees still use it?” Violet asked.
    â€œI don’t think so,” Clay said. “I see them going in there sometimes, but once they build a hive in one of these boxes, that’s where they stay. I just keep that one around as sort of an antique.”
    Jessie nodded. “That’s neat.”
    â€œWhen you work with the bees, do you have to touch them?” Benny asked.
    Dottie said, “We sure do. We have to move the hives around once in a while and remove the honeycomb frames to get the honey out.”
    â€œBut you wear gloves, right?”
    â€œNo, gloves are too hard to work with. They get sticky and dirty, and you can’t really feel anything with them on.” She wiggled her fingers. “We need to be able to feel the bees in case they get caught under our hands.”
    â€œBut don’t they sting you?” Benny asked, alarmed.
    Clay smiled. “Every now and then you get a sting, but that’s rare. The main rule is to move slowly. Quick movements frighten the bees, and when they sting it’s almost always because they’re scared.”
    â€œBees are much more peaceful and gentle than most people think,” Dottie told the Aldens. “They don’t want to sting anyone. They only do that when they feel they have to. If you treat them with respect, they’ll treat you with respect.”
    â€œI haven’t been stung in ages,” Clay added.
    Then he said, “So, do you want to see how all this works?”
    â€œWe sure do,” Jessie replied.
    â€œOkay.…”
    He put on the protective headgear that he’d brought along. It really wasn’t much more than a hat with a net hanging down to protect his face and neck.
    He looked at the Alden children and smiled. “Like something from outer space, huh?”
    â€œYeah, creepy!” Benny said.
    â€œThis is just for safety. Getting stung on the hand is one thing. Getting stung on the face is worse.”
    He went over to see one of the hives and gently removed the lid from the top box. The buzzing sound became a bit louder. As Clay set