The Adventures of Maya the Bee | Page 5

forward. He pressed aside a bright petal, Maya entered, and she and the beetle walked beside each other through the narrow chambers with their subdued light and fragrant walls.
"What a charming home!" exclaimed Maya, genuinely taken with the place. "The perfume is positively intoxicating."
Maya's admiration pleased the beetle.
"It takes wisdom to know where to live," he said, and smiled good-naturedly. "'Tell me where you live and I'll tell you what you're worth,' says an old adage.-- Would you like some nectar?"
"Oh," Maya burst out, "I'd love some."
The beetle nodded and disappeared behind one of the walls. Maya looked about. She was happy. She pressed her cheeks and little hands against the dainty red hangings and took deep breaths of the delicious perfume, in an ecstasy of delight at being permitted to stop in such a beautiful dwelling.
"It certainly is a great joy to be alive," she thought. "And there's no comparison between the dingy, crowded stories in which the bees live and work and this house. The very quiet here is splendid."
Suddenly there was a loud sound of scolding behind the walls. It was the beetle growling excitedly in great anger. He seemed to be hustling and pushing someone along roughly, and Maya caught the following, in a clear, piping voice full of fright and mortification.
"Of course, because I'm alone, you dare to lay hands on me. But wait and see what you get when I bring my associates along. You are a ruffian. Very well, I am going. But remember, I called you a ruffian. You'll never forget that."
The stranger's emphatic tone, so sharp and vicious, frightened Maya dreadfully. In a few moments she heard the sound of someone running out.
The beetle returned and sullenly flung down some nectar.
"An outrage," he said. "You can't escape those vermin anywhere. They don't allow you a moment's peace."
Maya was so hungry she forgot to thank him and took a mouthful of nectar and chewed, while the beetle wiped the perspiration from his forehead and slightly loosened his upper armor so as to catch his breath.
"Who was that?" mumbled Maya, with her mouth still full.
"Please empty your mouth--finish chewing and swallowing your nectar. One can't understand a word you say."
Maya obeyed, but the excited owner of the house gave her no time to repeat her question.
"It was an ant," he burst out angrily. "Do those ants think we save and store up hour after hour only for them! The idea of going right into the pantry without a how-do-you-do or a by-your-leave! It makes me furious. If I didn't realize that the ill-mannered creatures actually didn't know better, I wouldn't hesitate a second to call them--thieves!"
At this he suddenly remembered his own manners.
"I beg your pardon," he said, turning to Maya, "I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Peter, of the family of rose-beetles."
"My name is Maya," said the little bee shyly. "I am delighted to make your acquaintance." She looked at Peter closely; he was bowing repeatedly, and spreading his feelers like two little brown fans. That pleased Maya immensely.
"You have the most fascinating feelers," she said, "simply sweet...."
"Well, yes," observed Peter, flattered, "people do think a lot of them. Would you like to see the other side?"
"If I may."
The rose-beetle turned his fan-shaped feelers to one side and let a ray of sunlight glide over them.
"Great, don't you think?" he asked.
"I shouldn't have thought anything like them possible," rejoined Maya. "My own feelers are very plain."
"Well, yes," observed Peter, "to each his own. By way of compensation you certainly have beautiful eyes, and the color of your body, the gold of your body, is not to be sneezed at."
Maya beamed. Peter was the first person to tell her she had any good looks. Life was great. She was happy as a lark, and helped herself to some more nectar.
"An excellent quality of honey," she remarked.
"Take some more," said Peter, rather amazed by his little guest's appetite. "Rose-juice of the first vintage. One has to be careful and not spoil one's stomach. There's some dew left, too, if you're thirsty."
"Thank you so much," said Maya. "I'd like to fly now, if you will permit me."
The rose-beetle laughed.
"Flying, always flying," he said. "It's in the blood of you bees. I don't understand such a restless way of living. There's some advantage in staying in one place, too, don't you think?"
Peter courteously held the red curtain aside.
"I'll go as far as our observation petal with you," he said. "It makes an excellent place to fly from."
"Oh, thank you," said Maya, "I can fly from anywhere."
"That's where you have the advantage over me," replied Peter. "I have some difficulty in unfolding my lower wings." He shook her hand and held the last curtain aside for her.
"Oh, the blue sky!" rejoiced Maya. "Good-by."
"So long," called