Lions at Lunchtime - Mary Pope Osborne [5]
He looked around nervously. Where are the lions? he wondered.
A small bird flitted near his head.
“Hi,” Annie said to the bird.
Jack turned back to her. “According to the riddle, we’re looking for something gold and sweet.”
“What do you want?” Annie asked the bird.
The bird twittered and flew around Jack and Annie. Its feathers were dull gray. But it had a bright, happy manner.
“Annie, listen to me, not the bird,” said Jack.
The bird kept fluttering around them.
“She’s trying to tell us something,” said Annie.
Jack let out a long sigh. “You are driving me crazy today,” he said.
“But I feel like she needs our help,” said Annie. “Maybe her babies fell out of the nest.”
“Annie, you can’t save every animal in Africa,” said Jack.
“This bird is important,” said Annie. “Trust me.”
The bird darted toward the trees. It landed on a branch and cocked its head at them.
“She says follow,” said Annie.
The bird headed into the forest. Annie started after it.
“Don’t go in there!” said Jack. “You might run into—”
There was no need to finish. The bird and Annie had disappeared into the trees.
“—a snake or a lion,” Jack said to himself.
“Come on!” Annie called.
Jack moaned. He pulled on his pack and ran. The peanut butter jar thumped against his back.
The forest was cooler than the sunny plains. It was filled with shadows and bird calls.
“Where are you?” Jack shouted.
“Here!” said Annie.
He found her in a thick glade.
Bright rays streamed between the trees. Green leaves and vines swayed in the dappled light.
The little gray bird sat in a tree, twittering at them.
“Yuck, what’s that?” said Annie. She pointed at a round brown thing hanging from a low branch. Bees buzzed around it.
“If that’s her nest, it’s a pretty weird nest,” said Annie.
“That’s not a nest,” said Jack. “It’s a beehive. Don’t you see the bees?”
“Yikes,” said Annie. She stepped back from the tree.
But the little bird darted at the beehive and pecked at it.
“What’s she doing?” said Annie.
The bird kept pecking at the hive.
“I don’t know. Maybe she’s as nuts as you,” said Jack.
“Look her up in the book,” said Annie. “See if it says she’s nuts.”
“Are you kidding?” said Jack. “That nutty bird isn’t going to be in this book.”
“Just look.”
Jack opened his Africa book. He kept turning the pages. Just as he thought—there was no gray bird in the book.
“Forget it,” he said.
“Keep looking,” said Annie.
Jack turned one more page. And there it was: a little gray bird, a beehive, and a tall, painted warrior with a spear.
“I don’t believe this,” said Jack.
Then he read aloud:
This bird is called a honey guide. It’s both a friend and a helper to the Masai (muh-SI) people, an African tribe known for their fierce fighting skills and bravery.
“Hi, honey guide,” Annie called to the bird. “I knew you were important.”
Jack kept reading:
The honey guide leads a Masai tribesperson to a beehive. The bird waits for him or her to scatter the bees and take the honey. Then the bird feasts on the honeycomb.
“That’s cool,” said Jack. “They work together, like the zebras and wildebeests and gazelles.”
“Yeah,” said Annie. “And she wants us to be her helpers. We have to scatter the bees and leave her the honeycomb.”
“How do we do that?” said Jack. He looked back at the book. It didn’t say how.
“Well, maybe we could wave those weeds at them,” said Annie. She pointed to some bright green plants that looked like giant fans.
Jack put his book and backpack down. He and Annie pulled up the weeds. They waved them near the tree, and the bees scattered.
Next, Jack grabbed the tree branch and jiggled it. The hive fell to the ground and broke open.
Annie stooped and stuck her finger into the golden honeycomb.
“Yummy,” she said when she tasted the honey. “Try it.”
Jack stuck his finger in the honeycomb, too. He licked off the golden honey. It was the sweetest honey he had ever tasted.
“Now the honey guide can get to her honeycomb,” said Annie.
“Yeah, but she’d better hurry. Before the bees come back,” said Jack.
“It’s