The Adventures of Maya the Bee | Page 7

doing here on my leaf?" he demanded.
Maya was startled.
"Is there any objection to a person's just resting here a moment or two?"
Maya remembered Cassandra's telling her that the nation of bees
commanded great respect in the insect world. Now she was going to see
if it was true; she was going to see if she, Maya, could compel respect.
Nevertheless her heart beat a little faster because her tone had been
very loud and peremptory.
But actually the blue-bottle was frightened. He showed it plainly. When
he saw that Maya wasn't going to let anyone lay down the law to her he
backed down. With a surly buzz he swung himself on to a blade that
curved above Maya's leaf, and said in a much politer tone, talking down
to her out of the sunshine:
"You ought to be working. As a bee you certainly ought. But if you
want to rest, all right. I'll wait here."
"There are plenty of leaves," observed Maya.
"All rented," said the blue-bottle. "Now-a-days one is happy to be able
to call a piece of ground one's own. If my predecessor hadn't been
snapped up by a frog two days ago, I should still be without a proper
place to live in. It's not very pleasant to have to hunt up a different
lodging every night. Not everyone has such a well-ordered state as you
bees. But permit me to introduce myself. My name is Jack
Christopher."
Maya was silent with terror, thinking how awful it must be to fall into
the clutches of a frog.
"Are there many frogs in the lake?" she asked and drew to the very
middle of the leaf so as not to be seen from the water.
The blue-bottle laughed.

"You are giving yourself unnecessary trouble," he jeered. "The frog can
see you from below when the sun shines, because then the leaf is
transparent. He sees you sitting on my leaf, perfectly."
Beset by the awful idea that maybe a big frog was squatting right under
her leaf staring at her with his bulging hungry eyes, Maya was about to
fly off when something dreadful happened, something for which she
was totally unprepared. In the confusion of the first moment she could
not make out just exactly what was happening. She only heard a loud
rustling like the wind in dry leaves, then a singing whistle, a loud angry
hunter's cry. And a fine, transparent shadow glided over her leaf. Now
she saw--saw fully, and her heart stood still in terror. A great, glittering
dragon-fly had caught hold of poor Jack Christopher and held him tight
in its large, fangs, sharp as a knife. The blade of the rush bent low
beneath their weight. Maya could see them hovering above her and also
mirrored in the clear water below. Jack's screams tore her heart.
Without thinking, she cried:
"Let the blue-bottle go, at once, whoever you are. You have no right to
interfere with people's habits. You have no right to be so arbitrary."
The dragon-fly released Jack from its fangs, but still held him fast with
its arms, and turned its head toward Maya. She was fearfully frightened
by its large, grave eyes and vicious pincers, but the glittering of its
body and wings fascinated her. They flashed like glass and water and
precious stones. The horrifying thing was its huge size. How could she
have been so bold? She was all a-tremble.
"Why, what's the matter, child?" The dragon-fly's tone, surprisingly,
was quite friendly.
"Let him go," cried Maya, and tears came into her eyes. "His name is
Jack Christopher."
The dragon-fly smiled.
"Why, little one?" it said, putting on an interested air, though most
condescending.

Maya stammered helplessly:
"Oh, he's such a nice, elegant gentleman, and he's never done you any
harm so far as I know."
The dragon-fly regarded Jack Christopher contemplatively.
"Yes, he is a dear little fellow," it replied tenderly and--bit Jack's head
off.
Maya thought she was losing her senses. For a long time she couldn't
utter a sound. In horror she listened to the munching and crunching
above her as the body of Jack Christopher the blue-bottle was being
dismembered.
"Don't put on so," said the dragon-fly with its mouth full, chewing.
"Your sensitiveness doesn't impress me. Are you bees any better? What
do you do? Evidently you are very young still and haven't looked about
in your own house. When the massacre of the drones takes place in the
summer, the rest of the world is no less shocked and horrified, and I
think with greater justification."
Maya asked:
"Have you finished up there?" She did not dare to raise her eyes.
"One leg still left," replied the dragon-fly.
"Do please swallow it. Then I'll answer you,"