The Adventures of Maya the Bee | Page 3

left the kingdom to found a new city; but for a long time the droning of the great swarm could be heard outside in the sunlight. It was not from arrogance or evil intent against the queen that these had quitted; it was because the population had grown to such a size that there was no longer room for all the inhabitants, and it was impossible to store a sufficient food-supply of honey to feed them all over the winter. You see, according to a government treaty of long standing, a large part of the honey gathered in summer had to be delivered up to human beings, who in return assured the welfare of the bee-state, provided for the peace and safety of the bees, and gave them shelter against the cold in winter.
"The sun has risen!"
The joyous call sounding in Maya's ears awoke her out of sleep the next morning. She jumped up and joined a lady working-bee.
"Delighted," said the lady cordially. "You may fly with me."
At the gate, where there was a great pushing and crowding, they were held up by the sentinels, one of whom gave Maya the password without which no bee was admitted into the city.
"Be sure to remember it," he said, "and good luck to you."
Outside the city gates, a flood of sunlight assailed the little bee, a brilliance of green and gold, so rich and warm and resplendent that she had to close her eyes, not knowing what to say or do from sheer delight.
"Magnificent! It really is," she said to her companion. "Do we fly into that?"
"Right ahead!" answered the lady-bee.
Maya raised her little head and moved her pretty new wings. Suddenly she felt the flying-board on which she had been sitting sink down, while the ground seemed to be gliding away behind, and the large green domes of the tree-tops seemed to be coming toward her.
Her eyes sparkled, her heart rejoiced.
"I am flying," she cried. "It cannot be anything else. What I am doing must be flying. Why, it's splendid, perfectly splendid!"
"Yes, you're flying," said the lady-bee, who had difficulty in keeping up with the child. "Those are linden-trees, those toward which we are flying, the lindens in our castle park. You can always tell where our city is by those lindens. But you're flying so fast, Maya."
"Fast?" said Maya. "How can one fly fast enough? Oh, how sweet the sunshine smells!"
"No," replied her companion, who was rather out of breath, "it's not the sunshine, it's the flowers that smell.-- But please, don't go so fast, else I'll drop behind. Besides, at this pace you won't observe things and be able to find your way back."
But little Maya transported by the sunshine and the joy of living, did not hear. She felt as though she were darting like an arrow through a green-shimmering sea of light, to greater and greater splendor. The bright flowers seemed to call to her, the still, sunlit distances lured her on, and the blue sky blessed her joyous young flight.
"Never again will it be as beautiful as it is to-day," she thought. "I can't turn back. I can't think of anything except the sun."
Beneath her the gay pictures kept changing, the peaceful landscape slid by slowly, in broad stretches.
"The sun must be all of gold," thought the baby-bee.
Coming to a large garden, which seemed to rest in blossoming clouds of cherry-tree, hawthorn, and lilacs, she let herself down to earth, dead-tired, and dropped in a bed of red tulips, where she held on to one of the big flowers. With a great sigh of bliss she pressed herself against the blossom-wall and looked up to the deep blue of the sky through the gleaming edges of the flowers.
"Oh, how beautiful it is out here in the great world, a thousand times more beautiful than in the dark hive. I'll never go back there again to carry honey or make wax. No, indeed, I'll never do that. I want to see and know the world in bloom. I am not like the other bees, my heart is meant for pleasure and surprises, experiences and adventures. I will not be afraid of any dangers. Haven't I got strength and courage and a sting?"
She laughed, bubbling over with delight, and took a deep draught of nectar out of the flower of the tulip.
"Grand," she thought. "It's glorious to be alive."
Ah, if little Maya had had an inkling of the many dangers and hardships that lay ahead of her, she would certainly have thought twice. But never dreaming of such things, she stuck to her resolve.
Soon tiredness overcame her, and she fell asleep. When she awoke, the sun was gone, twilight lay upon the land. A bit of alarm, after all. Maya's heart went a little faster. Hesitatingly she crept