The Adventures of Maya the Bee | Page 4

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 out of the flower,
which was about to close up for the night, and hid herself away under a
leaf high up in the top of an old tree, where she went to sleep, thinking
in the utmost confidence:
"I'm not afraid. I won't be afraid right at the very start. The sun is
coming round again; that's certain; Cassandra said so. The thing to do is
to go to sleep quietly and sleep well."
[Illustration]

[Illustration]
CHAPTER II
THE HOUSE OF THE ROSE
By the time Maya awoke, it was full daylight. She felt a little chilly
under her big green leaf, and stiff in her limbs, so that her first
movements were slow and clumsy. Clinging to a vein of the leaf she let
her wings quiver and vibrate, to limber them up and shake off the dust;
then she smoothed her fair hair, wiped her large eyes clean, and crept,
warily, down to the edge of the leaf, where she paused and looked
around.
The glory and the glow of the morning sun were dazzling. Though
Maya's resting-place still lay in cool shadow, the leaves overhead shone
like green gold.

"Oh, you glorious world," thought the little bee.
Slowly, one by one, the experiences of the previous day came back to
her--all the beauties she had seen and all the risks she had run. She
remained firm in her resolve not to return to the hive. To be sure, when
she thought of Cassandra, her heart beat fast, though it was not very
likely that Cassandra would ever find her.-- No, no, to her there was no
joy in forever having to fly in and out of the hive, carrying honey and
making wax. This was clear, once and for all. She wanted to be happy
and free and enjoy life in her own way. Come what might, she would
take the consequences.
Thus lightly thought Maya, the truth being that she had no real idea of
the things that lay in store for her.
Afar off in the sunshine something glimmered red. A lurking
impatience seized the little bee. Moreover, she felt hungry. So,
courageously, with a loud joyous buzz, she swung out of her
hiding-place into the clear, glistening air and the warm sunlight, and
made straight for the red patch that seemed to nod and beckon. When
she drew near she smelled a perfume so sweet that it almost robbed her
of her senses, and she was hardly able to reach the large red flower. She
let herself down on the outermost of its curved petals and clung to it
tightly. At the gentle tipping of the petal a shining silver sphere almost
as big as herself, came rolling toward her, transparent and gleaming in
all the colors of the rainbow. Maya was dreadfully frightened, yet
fascinated too by the splendor of the cool silver sphere, which rolled by
her, balanced on the edge of the petal, leapt into the sunshine, and fell
down in the grass. Oh, oh! The beautiful ball had shivered into a score
of wee pearls. Maya uttered a little cry of terror. But the tiny round
fragments made such a bright, lively glitter in the grass, and ran down
the blades in such twinkling, sparkling little drops like diamonds in the
lamplight, that she was reassured.
She turned towards the inside of the calix. A beetle, a little smaller than
herself, with brown wing-sheaths and a black breastplate, was sitting at
the entrance. He kept his place unperturbed, and looked at her seriously,
though by no means unamiably. Maya bowed politely.

"Did the ball belong to you?" she asked, and receiving no reply added:
"I am very sorry I threw it down."
"Do you mean the dewdrop?" smiled the beetle, rather superior. "You
needn't worry about that. I had taken a drink already and my wife never
drinks water, she has kidney trouble.-- What are you doing here?"
"What is this wonderful flower?" asked Maya, not answering the
beetle's question. "Would you be good enough to tell me its name?"
Remembering Cassandra's advice she was as polite as possible.
The beetle moved his shiny head in his dorsal plate, a thing he could do
easily without the least discomfort, as his