The mules were unharnessed and led away to the stables, where they were bountifully fed on fresh grass cut and brought by the peons. There was a fine garden here filled with all sorts of tropical trees; and not the least interesting sight in the place was a large number of beehives of a very primitive character. They were nothing else than sections of a hollow log cut off with a saw, and the ends closed with dried mud, or with boards fitted in, like the head of a barrel.
WHAT PERFUMES THE HONEY.
Frank and Fred stood at a respectful distance as they looked at the beehives. They were mindful of the proverb which refers to the prudence of the burnt child; and having been stung by the honey insects on several occasions, they did not wish a repetition of the experience. Mr. Burbank walked fearlessly up to the hives and called to the youths to follow him.
"Please excuse us," replied Frank; "the bees may recognize you, as you've been here before, but they don't know us."
"Never mind them," the gentleman answered, with a laugh. "The bees in this country are stingless, and you run no risk in making their acquaintance."
Thus assured, the youths advanced and found themselves unharmed. The bees circled about them in great numbers, but "left no sting behind." Mr. Burbank told them that the hives were emptied every six or eight weeks, and thus the bees were kept busy the year round. Why they collect honey in a country where flowers are perpetually in bloom he could not understand. "It speaks well for the industry of the insect," he remarked; "he has no occasion to work, and only does so from the force of ancestral habit. He has some imitators among the human race, but by no means so generally as many of us might wish."
While discussing the subject of bee-keeping in Yucatan they were called to supper, which was an excellent one, of purely Mexican character. Turtle soup, chile con carne, frijoles, tortillas, and other national dishes were served in abundance, and the meal ended with honey from the beehives which they had investigated. Frank and Fred had observed a delicious fragrance as they entered the room where supper was served, and were unable at first to discover its origin. All the scent of the finest flowers of Yucatan seemed to be gathered there. They looked around for floral baskets or bouquets, but none were visible. When the honey was served they found that this it was which furnished the fragrance, and they asked Mr. Burbank about it.
"You are quite right," he answered; "it is the perfume of the honey that fills your nostrils. In some seasons of the year it is much greater than now; it spreads over the whole house, and is as powerful as musk or any other famous perfume of the Old World."