The Adventures of Maya the Bee | Page 8

cried Maya, who knew
that the drones in the hive had to be killed off in the summer, and was
provoked by the dragon-fly's stupidity. "But don't you dare to come a
step closer. If you do I'll use my sting on you."
Little Maya had really lost her temper. It was the first time she had
mentioned her sting and the first time she felt glad that she possessed
the weapon.
The dragon-fly threw her a wicked glance. It had finished its meal and
sat with its head slightly ducked, fixing Maya with its eyes and looking

like a beast of prey about to pounce. The little bee was quite calm now.
Where she got her courage from she couldn't have told, but she was no
longer afraid. She set up a very fine clear buzzing as she had once
heard a sentinel do when a wasp came near the entrance of the hive.
The dragon-fly said slowly and threateningly:
"Dragon-flies live on the best terms with the nation of bees."
"Very sensible in them," flashed Maya.
"Do you mean to insinuate that I am afraid of you--I of you?" With a
jerk the dragon-fly let go of the rush, which sprang back into its former
position, and flew off with a whirr and sparkle of its wings, straight
down to the surface of the water, where it made a superb appearance
reflected in the mirror of the lake. You'd have thought there were two
dragon-flies. Both moved their crystal wings so swiftly and finely that
it seemed as though a brilliant sheen of silver were streaming around
them.
Maya quite forgot her grief over poor Jack Christopher and all sense of
her own danger.
"How lovely! How lovely!" she cried enthusiastically, clapping her
hands.
"Do you mean me?" The dragon-fly spoke in astonishment, but quickly
added: "Yes, I must admit I am fairly presentable. Yesterday I was
flying along the brook, and you should have heard some human beings
who were lying on the bank rave over me."
"Human beings!" exclaimed Maya. "Oh my, did you see human
beings?"
"Of course," answered the dragon-fly. "But you'll be very interested to
know my name, I'm sure. My name is Loveydear, of the order Odonata,
of the family Libellulidæ."

"Oh, do tell me about human beings," implored Maya, after she had
introduced herself.
The dragon-fly seemed won over. She seated herself on the leaf beside
Maya. And the little bee let her, knowing Miss Loveydear would be
careful not to come too close.
"Have human beings a sting?" she asked.
"Good gracious, what would they do with a sting! No, they have worse
weapons against us, and they are very dangerous. There isn't a soul who
isn't afraid of them, especially of the little ones whose two legs
show--the boys."
"Do they try to catch you?" asked Maya, breathless with excitement.
"Yes, can't you understand why?" Miss Loveydear glanced at her wings.
"I have seldom met a human being who hasn't tried to catch me."
"But why?" asked Maya in a tremor.
"You see," said Miss Loveydear, with a modest smirk and a drooping,
sidewise glance, "there's something attractive about us dragon-flies.
That's the only reason I know. Some members of our family who let
themselves be caught went through the cruellest tortures and finally
died."
"Were they eaten up?"
"No, no, not exactly that," said Miss Loveydear comfortingly. "So far
as is known, man does not feed on dragon-flies. But sometimes he has
murderous desires, a lust for killing, which will probably never be
explained. You may not believe it, but cases have actually occurred of
the so-called boy-men catching dragon-flies and pulling off their legs
and wings for pure pleasure. You doubt it, don't you?"
"Of course I doubt it," cried Maya indignantly.
Miss Loveydear shrugged her glistening shoulders. Her face looked old

with knowledge.
"Oh," she said after a pause, grieving and pale, "if only one could speak
of these things openly. I had a brother who gave promise of a splendid
future, only, I'm sorry to say, he was a little reckless and dreadfully
curious. A boy once threw a net over him, a net fastened to a long
pole.-- Who would dream of a thing like that? Tell me. Would you?"
"No," said the little bee, "never. I should never have thought of such a
thing."
The dragon-fly looked at her.
"A black cord was tied round his waist between his wings, so that he
could fly, but not fly away, not escape. Each time my brother thought
he had got his liberty, he would be jerked back horribly within the boy's
reach."
Maya shook her head.
"You don't dare even think of it," she whispered.
"If a day passes when I don't think of it," said the