The men laughed and ignored him. The farther they walked away from him, the louder Jeff called. They could actually hear fear in his voice now. They were surprised that he was scared. They had heard about the bear sighting, too, but they figured that the animal was just passing through and was long gone by now. They didn't believe for a moment that Jeff was in any danger. They joined the others at the house and took some food and drinks outside to sit in the yard. They were relating how they had tied Jeff up when they were startled to hear terrifying screams from across the field from the clearing. There was no doubt the screams were coming from Jeff.
“Help! Help me!” Jeff yelled as if the cries were being ripped from his throat. “For God's sake, somebody help me!”
The men looked at each other. Jeff was really in trouble! Immediately, without a word, all the men ran through the field to the clearing at the edge of the woods. The screaming stopped before they arrived and, when they looked at the scene before them, they couldn't believe their eyes. What they saw in front of them was unthinkable. Jeff lay perfectly still, mauled and bleeding. A huge bear beside the broken body looked at the men. One man, who always carried a gun, pulled it from his pocket and fired into the air. The men began to shout at the bear until it turned and ran into the woods. They ran to Jeff, but it was too late. He was already dead.
It was one of those things that absolutely couldn't happen; yet it did. The hours and days that followed seemed unreal. The little church where the joyous wedding had taken place such a short time before was now the site of unbearable grief at Jeff's funeral. The day he was laid to rest, the neighbor men tracked and killed the bear.
Nellie moved out of the house that she and Jeff had built with so much love and happy expectations. She lived with her parents for a while, but she couldn't stand it for long. It was too hard to look at the woods and the house and the people. She moved away to live with an aunt in a faraway state. She never came back.
Nobody else moved into the house, and soon it fell to ruin. Nellie's father used it for storage.
People claimed that it wasn't really deserted, though. They claimed that, on the anniversary of the wedding and the chivaree, laughter and singing could be heard at the house. These sounds were followed by heart-wrenching screams coming from the clearing in the woods. Hunters who ventured into the woods on the anniversary night reported that they heard a growl and felt cold chills. They never saw the bear, but they felt its presence stalking them. The sense of danger was so great that they hurried from the woods and never went back at night.
As the years went by, people were so disturbed by the house that Nellie's father eventually tore it down. Those who had to pass by the woods went as quickly as they could. Stories circulated about odd sounds in the clearing and at the spot where the old house used to be. Nobody ventured close enough to check out the sounds, and nobody ever mentioned another chivaree.
Telling the Bees
Tom Simpson, Roberta's father, kept several hives of bees on his farm. He had many bee stories to share. He believed in “telling the bees.”
This practice was an odd belief among some communities that may not actually be ghostly, but it definitely falls into the categories of spooky and unexplained. It was said that bees must be told and their hives draped in mourning if the beekeeper or any member of the keeper's family died. If this practice was not carried out, it was believed that the bees would swarm and leave their hives in search of a new home.
It was important in earlier days to have bees on the farm. The honey was used for many things, especially during the Great Depression, when sugar was rationed. Honey was used for such things as healing remedies and for baking. A favorite breakfast treat was hot biscuits, honey, and butter. Naturally, people who kept hives of bees did not want them to swarm and go elsewhere.
Telling the bees was a custom brought over from England and prevailed in New England and the edge of Appalachia. In 1858, American poet John Greenleaf Whittier even wrote a poem about it called “Telling the Bees.” Children read this popular poem in their textbooks at school.
Josh Simms, a Kentucky farmer, always kept several hives of bees at the end of his garden near his barn. He had a remarkable way with the bees that especially impressed his young niece Tina. She noticed that her Uncle Josh never got stung, even when he was taking honey from the hives. The bees would often land on him, but they would fly away without doing him any harm. Then never bothered anyone who was with him, either.
One day Tina and Josh were in the garden gathering vegetables near the beehives. The bees were darting about their heads, but then would fly on.