Part 3 (1/2)

”n.o.body sent me out,” she said. ”I have just decided to be a forager; that's all. While I was in the hive a little while ago a forager came in with two great loads of pollen in her pollen baskets. She was very tired and seemed sick. While she was looking around for an empty cell in which to put her pollen, she suddenly sank down--and--and died.”

Nuova s.h.i.+vered as she said this, and dropped her antennae down over her eyes for a moment.

”Ah, yes,” said Saggia sadly but proudly; ”worked herself to death. That is the n.o.ble death we have. We die in the harness--working for others, working for the hive. The bees know that death well and honor it.”

”They may know it well,” broke in Nuova sharply, ”but they do not honor it well. Anyway, not by their actions. n.o.body paid any attention to the poor forager when she was staggering along with her load, and none when she sank down on the floor and died. Except pretty soon a couple of cleaners came along and dragged her body away. I suppose they brought it out here and flung it off the platform somewhere. A n.o.ble death, well honored, indeed! Well, I don't want that kind. I am going to die out in the garden, under a flower.”

While Nuova was speaking, Beffa had hopped and hummed his way over to them, and now he broke in with a song, which he sang as he hopped and danced about them. This is what he sang: ”Work, no play; work all day; A useful life; a usual life; The good bee's way, All day, all day. Then die and lie Till Saggia spy The carrion stuff-- A tug; a shove, And the friend you love Is gone to gra.s.s: Ha, ha, alas, is gone to gra.s.s. A n.o.ble life; a halted breath: The epitaph: 'She worked to death.'”

Both Saggia and Nuova listened to Beffa and watched him till he had finished singing. They both saw clearly his own unhappiness and his own revolt against the rigor of the bee tradition that demands always the full sacrifice of the individual for the community. Saggia realized that Beffa, too, was a ”new bee.”

Nuova, in the meanwhile, was looking off again into the beautiful garden; at the green gra.s.s and bushes; the many-colored flowers; the blue sky and warm, bright suns.h.i.+ne over all. She was enchanted. She drew a long breath of relief and happiness. She turned to Saggia.

”Will they keep me in,” she whispered, ”if I go back into the hive? If they will, I shan't go,” she added positively.

Saggia looked about again to see if other bees were paying attention to them. None was.

”No,” she said, speaking in a low voice, ”they won't keep you. They won't pay any attention to you as long as you keep busy, coming and going. You can be a honey-gatherer. The honey-flowers are only a little way off, there in the garden. But first you must get acquainted with the outside of the hive and the entrance. Look around. See, we are just by the side of this big bush, with that long branch hanging over. You can go out a little way from the platform, then turn around and see how the hive looks from there. Then go a little farther and look back again. Then go a little way to one side, and then to the other, and notice everything that will help you to find your way back. If you get lost, see if you can't see other honey-gatherers or pollen-foragers flying with full loads; they are returning to the hive; follow them. As to collecting the honey, you will learn that easily; in fact, you will be surprised when you get to the flowers, to find that you already know how. Be careful and not get into the poppies that shut up on you, and watch always for the great-crested bee-bird that swoops down on you, and, peck”--Saggia exaggeratedly imitated a bird's pecking--”and that is the end. Now, be off for your first flight. But not too far--not for the first time.”

Nuova's face shone with eagerness. ”Oh, thank you, Saggia, thank you. You are good to me. You are different from the others. Thank you, dearest Saggia.”

Nuova started quickly forward toward the edge of the platform. Just then Beffa, who had been hopping gently about Nuova and Saggia while they were talking, now hopped and danced along in front of Nuova, singing: ”The new bee and the old world; Flowers are there and b.u.t.terflies; But ugly toads and big bee-birds, If the old bee thinks she knows, The new bee knows she doesn't. Ah, new bee knows the world-old truth, That the old world's ever new.”

Nuova had slowed her steps so that she could hear all of Beffa's little song, and as he finished she came up to him and touched him caressingly with one of her antennae. But Beffa shrank from her caress. It meant so much to him, and yet he knew it meant so little to her. He knew Nuova liked him; yes, but he knew that he more than liked Nuova: he loved her. Poor Beffa! Love! A pitiful, deformed drone that could not fly; that could never be in the Great Courting Chase! And it was only then that the drones loved; and then only a Princess that could be loved. What he felt was impossible for a bee to feel; bee tradition told him that; and yet, he knew that he did feel this impossible thing.

”Beffa, you are good to me too,” said Nuova to him; ”you and Saggia are both good to me. And you two are the wisest bees in the hive, for you know that I am not the same as the other bees. No bees are exactly the same, I believe. We can't be all exactly alike, and we can't all like the same things, or think the same way, can we? I wish I could be a Queen so that I could have you always for my jester; always by to say funny things and wise things.”

Beffa made a grimace--to hide a sob. And he hopped more grotesquely than ever, while he sang: ”Ah, well, who knows? New things unheard of may be true, For every day the world is new. Ah, well, who knows? Ah, well, who knows?”

”Good-bye, Beffa,” said Nuova. And she stepped to the edge of the platform, and spread her wings for her first flight, her first plunge into the outside world of gra.s.s and flowers and b.u.t.terflies and bee-birds. And just then something happened that postponed this flight.

CHAPTER VIII.

Nuova and Hero again, and a Battle.

Just as Nuova was about to launch herself into the air, a sudden commotion at the hive opening made her look back. After this look she had no further thought of the garden. What she saw was the group of drones coming out of the hive, with another group of worker bees attendant upon them. These attendants were cleaning the drones' bodies and wings and evidently preparing them for some great event. It was plain to Nuova that this was the preparation for the Great Courting Chase. Her heart gave a leap, her eyes became misty; she stumbled and almost fell. She was so dizzy that she thought sudden death had struck her. It was only, however, the blow of her heart and mind in realizing that Hero--her Hero--must be in the group and preparing to leave her forever. He had, in a sense, already left her forever she knew, for he had made his decision--or rather she felt that the cruel bee tradition had made the decision for him--to follow the Princess. And if he followed her he could but win. Her wonderful, handsome, powerful Hero would be easily the successful one in the Great Courting Chase.

She ran her eyes anxiously over the group of drones now well out of the entrance and spreading out on the platform. At first she did not see Hero. But in a moment she did. He was a little apart from the others, and showed none of the excitement of the other drones. Indeed, he seemed to be rather depressed, and was evidently keeping quite by himself. He had not even an attendant with him. Nuova saw in this her chance.

She turned back from the edge of the platform, merged into the excited crowd, none of the bees paying any attention to her at all, and began to work her way through the press toward Hero.

Just then, however, Uno appeared by his side and began to brush his wings. He turned on her with an impatient gesture. Surprised and angry, Uno made a grimace and left him. A moment later, Due, noticing that he had no helper, hurried over to him, but she, also, much to her surprise and chagrin, was treated as Uno had been.

Hero seemed to be in an irritable mood. As the drones and their attendants came farther out, he moved away toward the front of the platform. This brought him rather near Nuova, who was able to reach him before any other bee could offer him her services.

Nuova, unperceived by Hero, slipped behind him and began nervously and awkwardly, glancing at the attendants on the other drones for guidance, to clean his wings. Soon an awkward tug apprised Hero that some one was again trying to attend him, and he turned with an angry movement to drive her off, when he recognized Nuova, and arrested his gesture. He stood still, looking at her keenly, and, without a word, let her go on caring for him. She grew even more nervous and awkward. Then he smiled gently, and spoke to her in a low voice.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Nuova began to clean his wings]

”How do you come to be out here?” he asked. ”You weren't sent as an attendant to us. Only the older and more experienced bees are given that--honor.” He smiled again. ”You didn't come out just now?”

”No,” said Nuova almost in a whisper--”no, I was going out for honey.”

”Oh, fine!” said Hero. ”Out into the world already! You must have done your work in the hive very well.”

”Yes,” murmured Nuova demurely.

Just then two or three Black Bees slipped out from behind a bush near the platform, but no one noticed them.

”But why don't you go, then?” asked Hero. ”It is beautiful over there among the flowers.” He waved an antenna toward the garden. ”And fragrant, and exciting. Other kinds of creatures; beetles and gra.s.shoppers and big buzzing flies. Some bad ones, too; spiders and giant bee-birds always watching, watching to catch you.” Nuova shuddered. ”But you are not afraid, are you?” Hero looked at her keenly. ”Or are you? Do you prefer to stay here in safety and just wait on the drones?”

”Yes,” said Nuova slowly, ”I prefer to wait on a drone.”

”I am surprised,” said Hero sternly and even half-contemptuously.

Just then Nuova made an awkward tug at his wing. He winced. ”Ouch!” he said; then half-laughed. ”Your champion will never win Principessa if you pull his wings out.”

As he said this, Nuova involuntarily, in response to her feelings, gave an even harder tug at his wings.

Hero exclaimed again, and half-pulled away from her. He spoke almost angrily.

”Here, what are you doing?” he cried. Then, as he looked into the eager, excited, pretty face of his little attendant, he felt his heart give a curious throb. And when he spoke again it was almost tenderly.

”Well, you are good to try and help me, anyway. But”--and now he spoke rather moodily--”I don't need much preparing. I can beat any of them”--and he waved contemptuously toward the other drones--”easily, just as I am.”

Poor Nuova! He could hardly have said a more discouraging thing to her, or one to hurt her more. She drew back a little and had hard work not to cry. She half-sobbed as she said: ”That--is--fine. I am sure--you can.” She paused. Then she said slowly: ”And if you do beat them, are you sure to get--her? Are you sure to be able to catch--her?”

The excitement on the platform was growing. The drones seemed to be getting impatient, and the attendants worked feverishly at the cleaning and making ready for the wonderful event about to happen. The infection of all this excitement began to seize Hero. He had turned his face away from Nuova to stare intently at the opening of the hive. It was there, of course, that the Princess would soon appear.

At Nuova's last question he started a little. ”Eh?” he said rather brusquely. ”Oh, yes, of course, I can catch her. She will fly faster than we at first, but she can't keep it up as long as we can. She will try to go higher and higher in the air, but that is hard work. That is when we shall catch up with her.” He paused, then added, musingly: ”It is odd; she is trying her best to get away from us and yet she wants to get caught all the time. She must get caught, you know, or we shouldn't have any Queen, and the hive would go all to pieces. The old Queen never comes back, of course. The Princess is our one chance to have a Queen at all.”

Nuova seemed to be thinking hard. Something was puzzling her. ”But,” she asked insistently, ”what really does happen if a Princess doesn't get caught, or something happens to her. There must be some way to save the community, isn't there?”

Hero seemed to have lost interest again in Nuova and her questionings. He was gazing fixedly at the hive entrance.

”Oh,” he said carelessly, ”I don't know. I've heard sometimes that a worker bee can--”

He was suddenly interrupted. There was a new and very violent commotion on that side of the platform which the few Black Bees had approached, unnoticed, a few minutes before. Now there was a whole group of them plainly in sight and many others were coming quickly out from behind the bush. A great and angry buzzing was heard from the guards on the platform and cries of ”Lotta, Lotta! The Amazons! Call Lotta! Call the Amazons! Hurry! The Black Bees! The Black Bees!”

The guards, few as they were in comparison with the oncoming horde of Black Bees, threw themselves bravely at them, and a moment after Lotta and her Amazons began issuing pell-mell from the hive entrance. They were met almost immediately by the foremost Black Bees, who had easily killed or were driving back the few guards, and were making rapid headway over the platform toward the entrance. A few even had pa.s.sed in through the entrance, but they were driven out again at once by the issuing Amazons. In fact, most of the first Black Bees to gain a foothold on the platform and to push forward to the entrance or into it were killed. But that brought no terror to the others. They pressed on over the dead bodies of their comrades, lunging and striking viciously with their long lances.

But Lotta and the Amazons were fighting fiercely, too. They were making a heroic defense of the hive and its stores. The battle raged with great fury, but for a little while with no apparent advantage to either side. The Black Bees seemed, on the whole, the more expert and the more furious fighters--they are, indeed, a race of bees famous for their fighting--but Lotta's wonderful personal courage and deeds of prowess were a great inspiration to the defenders. She appeared to be everywhere at once, and her shouts of defiance to the enemy and of encouragement to her followers made up in some measure for the feebler strength and less experience of her band.

This was so obvious to the Black Bees that she was soon singled out for special attack by groups of her adversaries. Two or three Black Bees would combine to a.s.sail her from different sides, but her lightning movements and das.h.i.+ng bravery had so far saved her even from being touched by an enemy's lance. But just at the moment when Nuova had recovered a little from her amazement and terror at this sudden invasion, Lotta received her first wound. The fierce Black Bees were closing around her too closely. Nuova felt a violent rage rising within her as she realized that at any cost the Black Bees were going to kill the leader of the Amazons. Lotta was staggering, and a half-dozen lances were lunging at her. She stumbled, gave one final shout of defiance--and fell.