 CHAPTER XIV OF THE ADVENTURES OF MAYA THE BEE. CHAPTER XIV THE SENTINEL. Soon, however, the little bee's despair yielded to a definite resolve. It was as though she once more called to mind that she was a bee. Here I am, weeping and wailing, she thought, as if I had no brains, and as if I were a weakling. Oh, I'm not much of an honor to my people and my queen. They are in danger, I am doomed anyhow. So since death is certain one way or another, I may as well be proud and brave and do everything I can to try to save them. It was as though Maya had completely forgotten the long time that had passed since she left her home. More strongly than ever she felt herself one of her people, and the great responsibility that suddenly devolved upon her through the knowledge of the Hornet's plot filled her with fine courage and determination. If my people are to be vanquished and killed, I want to be killed too, but first I must do everything in my power to save them. Long live my queen, she cried. Quiet in there, clanged harshly from the outside. Ugg, what an awful voice. The watchman making his rounds, then it was already late in the night. As soon as the watchman's footsteps had died away, Maya began to widen the chink through which she had peeped into the hall. It was easy to bite away the brittle stuff of the partition, though it took some time before the opening was large enough to admit her body. At length, in the full knowledge that discovery would cost her her life, she squeezed through into the hall. From remote depths of the fortress echoed the sound of loud snoring. The hall lay in a subdued blue light that found its way in through the distant entrance. The moonlight, Maya said to herself, she began to creep cautiously toward the exit, cowering close in the deep shadows of the walls, until she reached the high, narrow passageway that led from the hall to the opening through which the light shone. She heaved a deep sigh, far, far away, glimmered a star. Liberty, she thought. The passageway was quite bright, softly stepping oh so very softly, Maya crept on. The portal came nearer and nearer. If I fly now, she thought, I'll be out in one dash. Her heart pounded as if ready to burst. But there, in the shadow of the doorway, stood a sentinel leaning against a column. Maya stood still, rooted to the spot, vanished all her hopes, gone the chance of escape. There was no getting by that formidable figure. What was she to do? Best go back where she had come from. But the sight of the giant in the doorway held her in a spell. He seemed to be lost in reverie. He stood gazing out upon the moonwashed landscape. His head tilted slightly forward, his chin propped on his hand. How his golden curious gleamed in the moonlight. Something in the way he stood there stirred the little bee's emotions. He looked so sad, she thought. How handsome he is, how superbly he holds himself, how proudly his armor shines. He never removes it, neither by day nor by night. He is always ready to rob and fight and die. Little Maya quite forgot that this man was her enemy. Ah, how often the same thing had happened to her, that the goodness of her heart and her delight and beauty made her lose all sense of danger. A golden dart of light shot from the bandit's helmet. He must have turned his head. My God! whispered Maya. This is the end of me. But the sentinel said quietly. Just come here, child. What? cried Maya. You saw me? All the time, child. You bit a hole through the wall. Then you crept along, crept along, tucking yourself very neatly into the dark places until you reached the spot where you're standing. Then you saw me, and you lost heart. Am I right? Yes, said Maya, quite right. Her whole body shook with terror. The sentinel then had seen her the entire time. She remembered having heard how keen were the senses of these clever frebooters. What are you doing here? He asked, good-humoredly. Maya still thought he looked sad. His mind seemed to be far away, and not to concern itself with what was of such moment to her. I'd like to get out, she answered, and I'm not afraid. I was just startled. You looked so strong and handsome, and your arm are shown so. Now I'll fight you. The sentinel, slightly astonished, leaned forward and looked at Maya and smiled. It was not an ugly smile, and Maya experienced an entirely new feeling. The young warrior's smile seemed to exercise a mysterious power over her heart. No, little one. He said almost tenderly, you and I won't fight. You bees belong to a powerful nation, but man for man, we hornets are stronger. To do single battle with a bee would be beneath our dignity. If you like, you may stay here a little while and chat, but only a little while. Soon I'll have to wake the soldiers up, then back to your cell you must go. How curious! The hornet's lofty friendliness disarmed Maya more than anger or hate could have done. The feeling with which he inspired her was almost admiration. With great sad eyes she looked up at her enemy, and constrained, as always, to follow the impulses of her heart. She said, I have always heard bad things about hornets, but you are not bad. I can't believe you're bad. The warrior looked at Maya. There are good people and bad people everywhere, he said gravely, but you mustn't forget we are your enemies, and shall always remain your enemies. Must an enemy always be bad? asked Maya. Before, when you were looking out into the moonlight, I forgot that you were hard and dangerous. You seemed sad. And I have always thought that people who were sad couldn't possibly be wicked. The sentinel said nothing, and Maya continued more boldly. You are powerful. If you want to, you can put me back in my cell and I'll have to die. But you can also set me free, if you want to. At this the warrior drew himself up, his armor clanked, and the arm he raised shone in the moonlight. But the moonlight was turning dimmer in the passageway. Was dawn coming already? You are right, he said. I can. My people and my queen have entrusted me with this power. My orders are that no bee who has set foot in this fortress shall leave it alive. I shall keep faith with my people. After a pause he added softly, as if to himself. I have learned by bitter experience how faithlessness can hurt. When lovey dear foresook me. Little Maya was overcome. She did not know what to say. Ah, the same sentiments moved her too. Love of her own kind, loyalty to her people. Nothing to be done here but to use force or strategy. Each did his duty, and yet each remained an enemy to the other. But hadn't the sentinel mentioned a name? Hadn't he said something about someone's having been unfaithful to him? Lovey dear, why, she knew lovey dear. The beautiful dragonfly who lived at the lakeside among the water lilies. Maya quivered with excitement. Here, perhaps, was her salvation. But she wasn't quite sure how much good her knowledge would be to her. So she said prudently. Who is lovey dear, if I may ask? Never mind, little one. She's not your affair, and she's lost to me forever. I shall never find her again. I know, miss lovey dear. Maya forced herself to put the utmost indifference into her tone. She belongs to the family of dragonflies, and she's the loveliest lady of all. A tremendous change came over the warrior. He seemed to have forgotten where he was. He leapt over to Maya's sides as if blown by a violent gust. What? You know lovey dear? Tell me where she is. Tell me right away. No. Maya spoke quietly and firmly. She glowed with secret delight. I'll bite your head off if you don't tell. The warrior drew dangerously close. It will be bitten off anyhow. Go ahead. I shan't betray the lovely dragonfly. She's a close friend of mine. You want to imprison her. The warrior breathed hard. In the gathering dawn Maya could see that his forehead was pale, and his eyes tragic with the inner struggle he was waging. Good God, he said wildly. It's time to rise the soldiers. No, no, little bee. I don't want to harm lovey dear. I love her. More dearly than my life. Tell me where I shall find her again. Maya was clever. She purposely hesitated before she said, but I love my life. If you tell me where lovey dear lives, Maya could see that the sentinel spoke with difficulty and was trembling all over. I'll set you free. You can fly wherever you want. Will you keep your word? My word of honor as a brigand, said the sentinel proudly. Maya could scarcely speak, but if she was to be in time to warn her people of the attack every moment counted, her heart exalted. Very well, she said, I believe you. Listen then. Do you know the ancient linden trees near the castle? Beyond them lies one meadow after another, and finally comes a big lake. In a cove at the south end where the brook empties into the lake the water lilies lie spread out on the water in the sunlight. Near them, in the rushes, is where lovey dear lives. You'll find her there every day at noon when the sun is high in the heavens. The warrior had pressed both hands to his pale brow. He seemed to be having a desperate struggle with himself. You're telling the truth, he said softly and groaned, whether from joy or pain it was impossible to tell. She told me she wanted to go where there were floating white flowers. Those must be the flowers you speak of. Fly away then, I thank you. And actually he stepped aside from the entrance. Day was breaking. It brigand keeps his word, he said. Not knowing that Maya had overheard the deliberations in the council chamber he told himself that one small bee, more or less, made little difference. Weren't there hundreds of others? Good-bye! cried Maya, breathless with haste, and flew off without a word of thanks. As a matter of fact there was no time to spare. End of Chapter 14 Chapter 15 of The Adventures of Maya the Bee Chapter 15 The Warning Little Maya summoned every bit of strengthened willpower she had left. Like a bullet shot from the muzzle of a gun, bees can fly faster than most insects. She darted through the purpling dawn in a lightning beeline for the woods, where she knew she would be safe for the moment, and could hide herself away should the hornet regret having let her go and follow in pursuit. Gossamer veils hung everywhere over the level country. Big drops fell from the trees on the dry leaves carpeting the ground, and the cold in the woods threatened to paralyze little Maya's wings. No ray of the dawn had as yet found its way between the trees. The air was as hushed as if the sun had forgotten the earth, and all creatures had laid themselves to eternal rest. Maya, therefore, flew high up in the air. Only one thing mattered. To get back as quickly as strength and wits permitted to her hive, her people, her endangered home. She must warn her people. They must prepare against the attack which the terrible brigands had planned for that very morning. Oh, if only the Nation of Bees had the chance to arm and make ready its defenses. It was well able to cope with its stronger opponents. But a surprise assault at rising time. What if the Queen and the soldiers were still asleep? The success of the hornets would then be assured. They would take prisoners and give no quarter. The butchery would be horrible. Thinking of the strength and energy of her people, their readiness to meet death, their devotion to their Queen, the little bee felt a great wrath against their enemies, the hornets. Her beloved people! No sacrifice was too great for them. Little Maya's heart swelled with the ecstasy of self-sacrifice and the dauntless courage of enthusiasm. It was not easy for her to find her way over the woods. Long before, she had ceased to observe landmarks as did the other bees, who had great distances to come back with their loads of nectar. She felt she had never flown as high before, the cold hurt, and she could scarcely distinguish the objects below. What can I go by? she thought. No one thing stands out. I shan't be able to reach my people and help them. Oh, oh, and here I have a chance to atone for my desertion. What shall I do? What shall I do? Suddenly some secret force steered her in a certain direction. What is pushing and pulling me? It must be homesickness guiding me back to my country. She gave herself up to the instinct and flew swiftly on. Soon in the distance, looking like gray domes in the dim light of the dawn, showed the mighty lindens of the castle park. She exclaimed with delight. She knew where she was. She dropped closer to the earth. In the meadows on one side hung the luminous wisps of fog, thicker here than in the woods. She thought of the flower sprites who cheerfully died their early death inside the floating veils. That inspired her anew with confidence. Her anxiety disappeared. Let her people spurn her from the kingdom. Let the queen punish her for desertion if only the bees were spared this dreadful calamity of the hornet's invasion. Close to the long stone wall shown the silver fur that shielded the bee city against the west wind. And there, she could see them distinctly now, were the red, blue, and green portals of her homeland. The stormy pounding of her heart nearly robbed her of her breath. But on she flew toward the red entrance which led to her people and her queen. On the flying board two sentinels blocked the entrance and laid hands upon her. Maya was too breathless to utter a syllable, and the sentinels threatened to kill her. For a bee to force its way into a strange city without the queen's consent is a capital offense. Stand back, cried one sentinel, thrusting her roughly away. What's the matter with you? If you don't leave this instant, you'll die. Did you ever? He turned to the other sentinel. Have you ever seen the like, and before daytime, too? Now Maya pronounced the password by which all the bees knew one another. The sentinels instantly released her. What? they cried. You are one of us, and we don't know you. Let me get to the queen, groaned the little bee, right away, quick, we are in terrible danger. The sentinels still hesitated. They couldn't grasp the situation. The queen may not be awakened before sunrise, said the one. Then Maya screamed, her voice rising to a passionate yell, such as the sentinels had probably never heard from a bee before. Then the queen will never wake up alive. Death is following at my heels. Take me to the queen. Take me to the queen, I say. Her voice was so wild and wrathful, that the sentinels were frightened and obeyed. The three hurried together through the warm, well-known streets and corridors. Maya recognized everything, and for all her excitement and the tremendous need for haste, her heart quivered with sweet melancholy at the sight of the dear familiar scenes. I am at home! she stammered with pale lips. In the queen's reception room she almost broke down. One of the sentinels supported her while the other hurried, with the unusual message into the private chambers. Both of them now realized that something momentous was taking place, and the messenger ran as fast as his legs could carry him. The first wax generators were already up. Here and there a little head thrust itself out curiously from the openings. The news of the incident traveled quickly. Two officers emerged from the private chambers. Maya recognized them instantly. In solemn silence, without a word to her, they took their posts, one on each side of the doorway. The queen would soon appear. She came without her court, attended only by her aid and two ladies in waiting. She hurried straight over to Maya. When she saw what a state the child was in, the severe expression on her face relaxed a little. You have come with an important message. Who are you? Maya could not speak at once. Finally she managed to frame two words. The Hornets! The queen turned pale. But her composure was unshaken. And Maya was somewhat calmed. Almighty Queen! she cried. Forgive me for not respecting the duties I owe your majesty. Later I will tell you everything I have done. I repent. With my whole heart I repent. Just a little while ago, as by a miracle, I escaped from the fortress of the Hornets. And the last I heard was that they were planning to attack and plunder our kingdom at dawn. The wild dismay that the little bee's words produced was indescribable. The ladies in waiting set up a loud wail. The officers at the door turned pale and made as if to dash off and sound the alarm. The aid said, Good God! and wheeled completely round, because he wanted to see on all sides at once. As for the queen, it was really extraordinary to see with what composure, what resourcefulness she received the dreadful news. She drew herself up, and there was something in her attitude that both intimidated and inspired endless confidence. Little Maya was odd. Never, she felt, had she witnessed anything so superior. It was like a great, magnificent event in itself. The queen beckoned the officers to her side and uttered a few rapid sentences aloud. At the end, Maya heard, I give you one minute for the execution of my orders. A fraction of a second longer, and it will cost you your heads. But the officers scarcely looked as if they needed this incentive. In less time than it takes to tell, they were gone. Their instant readiness was a joy to behold. Oh, my queen! said Maya. The queen inclined her head to the little bee, who once again, for a brief moment, saw her monarch's countenance beam upon her gently, lovingly. You have our thanks, she said. You have saved us. No matter what your previous conduct may have been, you have made up for it a thousandfold. But go, rest now, little girl. You look very miserable, and your hands are trembling. I should like to die for you, Maya stammered, quivering. Don't worry about us, replied the queen. Among the thousands inhabiting this city, there is not one who would hesitate a moment to sacrifice his life for me, and for the welfare of the country. You can go to sleep peacefully. She bent over and kissed the little bee on her forehead. Then she beckoned to the ladies in waiting, and bade them see to Maya's rest and comfort. Maya stirred in the depths of her being, allowed herself to be led away. After this life had nothing lovelier to offer. As in a dream she heard the loud, clear signals in the distance, saw the high dignitaries of state assemble around the royal chambers, heard a dull, far-echoing drone that shook the high from roof to foundation. The soldiers! Our soldiers! whispered the ladies in waiting at her side. The last thing Maya heard in the little room where her companions put her to bed was the tramp of soldiers marching past her door and commands shouted in a blithe, resolute, ringing voice. Into her dreams, echoing as from a great distance, she carried the ancient song of the soldier bees. Sunlight, sunlight, golden sheen, by your glow our lives are lighted. Bless our labors, bless our queen, let us always be united. End of Chapter 15 Chapter 16 of The Adventures of Maya the Bee This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Read by Betsy Bush, February 2009. The Adventures of Maya the Bee by Voldemire Bond Sells Translated by Adele Zold Selzer and Arthur Gooderman. Chapter 16 The Battle The kingdom of the bees was in a whirl of excitement. Not even in the days of the revolution had the turmoil been so great. The hive rumbled and roared. Every bee was fired by a holy wrath, a burning ardor, to meet and fight the ancient enemy to the very last gasp. Yet there was no disorder or confusion. Marvelous the speed with which the regiments were mobilized. Marvelous the way each soldier knew his duty and fell into his right place and took up his right work. It was high time. At the queen's call for volunteers to defend the entrance, a number of bees offered themselves. And of these several had been sent out to see if the enemy was approaching. Two had now returned, whizzing dots, and reported that the hornets were drawing near. An awesome hush of expectancy fell upon the hive. Soldiers in three closed ranks stood lined up at the entrance. Proud, pale, solemn, composed. No one spoke. The silence of death prevailed except for the low commands of the officers drawing up the reserves in the rear. The hives seemed to be fast asleep. The only stir came from the doorway, where about a dozen wax generators were at work in feverish silence executing their orders to narrow the entrance with wax. As by a miracle, two thick partitions of wax had already gone up, which even the strongest hornets could not batter down without great loss of time. The hole had been reduced by almost half. The queen took up an elevated position inside the hive, from which she was able to survey the battle. Her aides flew scurrying hither and thither. The third messenger returned. He sank down exhausted at the queen's feet. I am the last who will return, he shouted, with all the strength he had left. The others have been killed. Where are the hornets? asked the queen. At the Linden's. Listen, listen! he stammered in mortal terror. The air hums with the wings of the giants. No sound was heard. It must have been the poor fellow's terrified imagination. He must have thought he was still being pursued. How many are there? asked the queen sternly. Answer in a low voice. I counted forty. Although the queen was startled by the enemy's numbers, she gave no sign of shock. In a ringing, confident voice that all could hear, she said, Not one of them will see his home again. Her words, which seemed to sound the enemy's doom, had instant effect. Men and officers alike felt their courage rise. But when, in the quiet of the morning, an ominous whirring was heard outside the hive, first softly, then louder and louder, and the entrance darkened, and the whispering voices of the hornets, the most frightful robbers and murderers in the insect world, penetrated into the hive, then the faces of the valiant little bees turned pale, as if washed over by a drab light falling upon their ranks. They gazed at one another with eyes in which death sat waiting, and those who were ranged at the entrance knew full well that one moment more and all would be over with them. The queen's controlled voice came clear and tranquil from her place on high. Let the robbers enter one by one, until I give orders to attack. Then those at the front throw themselves upon the invaders a hundred at a time, and the ranks behind cover the entrance. In that way we shall divide up the enemy's forces. Remember, you at the front, upon your strength and endurance and bravery depends the fate of the whole state. Have no fear. In the dusk the enemy will not see right away how well prepared we are, and he will enter unsuspecting. She broke off. There, thrust through the doorway, was the head of the first brigand. The feelers played about, groping, cautious. The pincers opened and closed. It was a blood-curdling sight. Slowly the huge black and gold-striped body, with its strong wings, crept in after the head. The light falling in from the outside drew gleams from the warrior's curious. Something like a quiver went through the ranks of the bees, but the silence remained unbroken. The hornet withdrew quietly. Outside he could be heard announcing. They're fast asleep, but the entrance is half walled up, and there are no sentinels. I do not know whether to take this as a good or a bad sign. A good sign rang out forward. At that two giants leapt in through the entrance side by side. After them soundlessly pressed a throng of striped armed gleaming warriors, awful to behold. Eight made their way into the hive. Still no orders to attack from the queen. Was she dumb with horror? Had her voice failed her? And the brigands did they not see in the shadow? To right and left the soldiers drawn up in close glittering ranks, ready for mortal combat? Now at last came the order from on high. In the name of eternal right, in the name of your queen, to the defense of the realm. At that a droning roar went up. Never before had the city been shaken by such a battle cry. It threatened to burst the hive in two. Where, an instant before, the hornets had been visible singly, there were now buzzing heaps, thick, dark, rolling knots. A young officer had scarcely awaited the end of the queen's words. He wanted to be the first to attack. He was the first to die. He had stood for some time ready to leap all a quiver with eagerness for battle, and at the first sound of the order he rushed forward right into the clutches of the foremost brigand. His delicately fine-pointed sting found its way between the head and upper breast-ring of his opponent. He heard the hornet give a yell of rage, saw him double up into a glittering, gold-black ball. Then the bandits' fearful sting leapt out and pierced between the young officer's breast-rings right into his heart. And dying the bee felt himself and his mortally wounded enemy sink under a cloud of storming bees. His brave death inspired them all with the wild rapture that comes from utter willingness to die for a noble cause. Fearful was their attack upon the invaders, the hornets were sore-pressed. But the hornets are an old race of robbers trained to warfare. Pillage and murder have long been their gruesome profession, though the initial assault of the bees had confused and divided them. Yet the damage was not so great as might have seemed at first. For the bees' stings did not penetrate their breast-plates, and their strength and gigantic size gave them an advantage of which they were well aware. Their sharp, buzzing battle-cry rose high above the battle-cry of the bees. It is a sound that fills all creatures with horror, even human beings who dread this danger signal, and are careful not to enter into conflict with hornets unprotected. Those of the assailants who had already penetrated into the hive quickly realized that they must make their way still deeper inward if they were not to block up the entrance to their comrades outside. And so the struggling knots rolled farther and farther down the dark streets and corridors. How right the queen had been in her tactics! No sooner was a bit of space at the entrance cleared than the ranks in the rear leapt forward to its defence. It was an old strategy and a dreadful one for the enemy. When a hornet at the entrance gave signs of exhaustion, the bees shammed the same and let him crawl in. But the instant the one behind showed his head a great swarm of fresh soldiers dashed up to defend the apparently unprotected entrance, while the invader who had gone on ahead would find himself already wearied suddenly confronted by glittering ranks of soldier bees who had not yet stirred a finger in battle. Generally he succumbed to their superior numbers at the very first attack. Now the groans of the wounded and the shrieks of the dying mingled in wild agony with the fierce battle cries. The hornet's stings worked fearful havoc among the bees. The rolling knots left tracks of dead bodies in their wake. The hornets, whose retreat had been cut off, realizing that they would never see the light of day again, fought the fight of despair. Yet slowly one by one they succumbed. There was one great thing against them, though their strength was inexhaustible, not so the poison of their sting. After a time their sting lost its virulence and the wounded bees, knowing they'd recover, fought in the consciousness of certain victory. To this was added the grief of the bees for their dead. It gave them the power of divine wrath. Gradually the dyn subsided. The loud calls of the hornets on the outside met with no response from the invaders within. They are all dead, said the leader of the hornet's grimly, and summoned the combatants back from the entrance, their numbers had melted down to half. We have been betrayed, said the leader. The bees were prepared. The hornets were assembled on the silver fur. It had grown lighter and the red of dawn tinged the tops of the linden trees. The birds began to sing. The dew fell. Pale and quivering with rage of battle, the warriors stood around their leader, who was waging an awful inward struggle. Should he yield to prudence or to his lust for pillage? The former prevailed. There was no use, anyway. His whole tribe was in danger of destruction. Grudgingly, in a shudder of thwarted ambition, he determined to send a messenger to the bees to sue for the return of the prisoners. He chose his cleverest officer and called upon him by name. A depressed silence instead of an answer. The officer was among those who had been cut off. The leader, overcome now by mortal dread, lest those who had entered would never return, quickly chose another officer. The raging and roaring in the beehive could be heard in the distance. Be quick, he cried, laying the white petal of a jasmine in the messenger's hand. Or the human beings will soon come and we shall be lost. Tell the bees we will go away and leave them in peace forever if they will deliver up the prisoners. The messenger rushed off. At the entrance he waved his white signal and alighted on the flying board. The queen bee was immediately informed that an emissary was outside who wanted to make terms, and she sent her aide to parlay with him. When he returned with his report she sent back this reply. We will deliver up the dead if you want to take them away. There are no prisoners. All of your people who invaded our territory are dead. Your promise never to return we do not believe. You may come again whenever you wish. You will fare no better than you did today, and if you want to go on with the battle we are ready to fight to the last bee. The leader of the Hornets turned pale when this message was delivered to him. He clenched his fists, he fought with himself. Only too gladly would he have yielded to the wishes of his warriors who clamored for revenge. Reason prevailed. We will come again, he hissed. How could this thing have happened to us? Are we not a more powerful people than the bees? Every campaign of mine so far has been successful and has only added to our glory. How can I face the queen after this defeat? In a quiver of fury he cried out, How could this thing have happened to us? There must be treachery somewhere. An older Hornet, known as a friend of the queens, here took up the word. It is true we are a more powerful race. But the bees are a unified nation and unflinchingly loyal to their people and their state. That is a great source of strength. It makes them irresistible. Not one of them would turn traitor. Each without thought of self serves the wheel of all. The leader scarcely listened. My day is coming, he hissed. What care I for the wisdom of these bourgeoisie? I am a brigand that will die a brigand. But to keep up the battle now would be madness. What good would it do us if we destroyed the whole hive and none of us came back alive? Turning to the messenger he cried, Give us back our dead, we will withdraw. A dead silence fell. The messenger flew off. We must be prepared for a fresh piece of trickery, though I don't think the Hornets are in a fighting mood at present, said the queen bee when she heard the Hornet's decision. She gave orders for the rear guard, wax generators, and honey carriers to remove the dead from the city while two fresh regiments guarded the entrance. Her orders were carried out. Over mountains of the dead one brigand's body after another was dragged to the entrance and thrown to the ground outside. In gloomy silence the troop of Hornets waited on the silver fur and saw the corpses of their fallen warriors drop one by one to the earth. The sun arose upon a scene of endless desolation. Twenty-one slain, who had died a glorious death, made a heap in the grass under the city of the bees. Not a drop of honey, not a single prisoner, had been taken by the enemy. The Hornets picked up their dead and flew away. The battle was over. The bees had conquered. But at what a cost! Everywhere lay fallen bodies, in the streets and corridors, in the dim places before the brooders and honey cupboards. Sad was the work in the hive on that lovely morning of summer sunshine and sundent blossoms. The dead had to be disposed of. The wounded had to be bandaged and nursed. But before the hour of noon had struck the regular tasks were begun. For the bees never celebrated their victory nor spent time mourning their dead. Each bee carried his pride and his grief locked quietly in his breast and went about his work. End of Chapter 16 Chapter 17 of The Adventures of Maya the Bee This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Read by Betsy Bush. February 2009 The Adventures of Maya the Bee by Voldemire Boncells Translated by Adele Zold-Seltzer and Arthur Guderman Chapter 17 The Queen's Friend The noise of battle awoke Maya out of a brief sleep. She jumped up and straight away wanted to dash out to help defend the city. But soon realized that she was too weak to be of any help. A group of struggling combatants came rolling toward her. One of them was a strong young hornet, an officer, Maya judged by his badge, who was defending himself unaided against an overwhelming number of bees. The struggling knot grew nearer. To Maya's horror it left one dead bee after another in its wake. But numbers finally told against the giant. Whole clusters of bees ready to die rather than let go, hung to its arms and legs and feelers, and their stings were beginning to pierce between the rings of his breast. Maya saw him drop down exhausted. Without cry or complaint, fighting to the very end, neither suing for mercy nor reviling his opponents, he went down to his brigand's death. The bees left him and hurried back to the entrance to throw themselves anew into the conflict. Maya's heart was beating stormily. She slipped over to the hornet. He lay curled up in the twilight, still breathing. She counted about twenty stings, most of them in the four part of his body, leaving his golden armor quite whole and sound. Seeing he was still alive, she hurried away to bring water and honey to cheer the dying man, she thought. But he shook his head and waved her off with his hand. I take what I want, he said proudly. I don't care for gifts. Oh! said Maya. I only thought you might be thirsty. The young officer smiled at her, then said, not sadly, but with a strange earnestness, I must die. The little bee could not reply. For the first time in her life she seemed to comprehend what it meant to have to die, and death seemed much closer when someone else was about to die than when her own life had been imperiled in the spider's web. If there were only something I could do, she said and burst into tears. The dying hornet made no answer. He opened his eyes once again and heaved a deep breath for the last time. Half an hour later he was thrown down into the grass outside the hive along with his dead comrades. Little Maya never forgot what she had learned from this brief farewell. She knew now for all time that her enemies were beings like herself, loving life as she did and having to die a hard death without succor. She thought of the flower sprite who had told her of his rebirth when nature sent forth her blossoms again in the spring, and she longed to know whether the other creatures would, like the sprite, come back to the light of life after they had died the death of the earth. I will believe it is so, she said softly. A messenger now came and summoned her to the queen's presence. She found the full court assembled in the royal reception room. Her legs shook. She scarcely dared to raise her eyes before her monarch and so many dignitaries. A number of the officers of the queen's staff were missing, and the gathering was unusually solemn. Yet a gleam of exaltation seemed to light every brow as if the consciousness of triumph in New Glory I encircled everyone like an invisible halo. The queen arose, made her way unattended through the assemblage, went up to little Maya, and took her in her arms. This Maya had never expected, not this. The measure of her joy was full to overflowing. She broke down and wept. The bees were deeply stirred. There was not one among them who did not share Maya's happiness, who was not deeply grateful for the little bee's valiant deed. Maya now had to tell her whole story. Everybody wanted to know how she had learned of the Hornet's plans and how she had succeeded in breaking out of the awful prison from which no bee had ever escaped. So Maya told of all the remarkable things she had seen and heard, of Miss Lovey-deer with the glittering wings, of the grasshopper, of Thecla the spider, of Puck, and of how splendidly Bobby had come to her rescue. When she told of the sprite and the human beings it was so quiet in the hall that she could hear the generators in the back of the hive kneading the wax. Ah, said the queen, who'd have thought the sprites were so lovely? She smiled to herself with a look of melancholy and longing as people will who long for beauty. And all the dignitaries smiled at the same smile. How did the song of the sprite go? She asked, Say it again. I'd like to learn it by heart. Maya repeated the song of the sprite. My soul is that which breathes anew, from all of loveliness and grace, and as it flows from God's own face it flows from His creations too. There was a silence for a while. The only sound was a restrained sobbing in the back of the hall, probably someone thinking of a friend who had been killed. Maya went on with her story. When she came to the hornets, the bee's eyes darkened and widened. Each imagined himself in the situation in which one of their number had been and quivered and drew a deep breath. Awful, said the queen, perfectly awful. The dignitaries murmured something to the same effect. And so, Maya ended, I reached home and I sue for your majesty's pardon a thousand times. Oh, no one bore the little bee any ill will for having run away from the hive, you may imagine they did not. The queen put her arm around Maya's neck. You did not forget your home and your people, she said kindly. In your heart you were loyal, so we will be loyal to you. Henceforth you shall stay by my side and help me conduct the affairs of state. In that way I think your experiences, all the things you have learned, will be made to serve the greatest good of your people in your country. Cheers of approval greeted the queen's words. So ends the story of the adventures of Maya the Bee. They say her work contributed greatly to the good and welfare of the nation, and she came to be highly respected and loved by her people. Sometimes on quiet evenings she went for a brief hours conversation to Cassandra's peaceful little room, where the ancient dame lived now on pension-honey. There Maya told the young bees, who listened to her eagerly, stories of the adventures which we have lived through with her. End of Chapter 17 End of The Adventures of Maya the Bee