The elderly lady-bee who helped the
baby-bee Maya when she awoke to life and slipped from her cell was called
Cassandra and commanded great respect in the hive. Those were exciting days.
A rebellion had broken out in the nation of bees, which the queen was
unable to suppress.
While the experienced Cassandra wiped Maya’s large bright eyes and tried as
best she could to arrange her delicate wings, the big hive hummed and buzzed
like a threatening thunderstorm, and the baby-bee found it very warm and said so
to her companion.
Cassandra looked about troubled, without
replying. It astonished her that the child so soon found something to criticize.
But really the child was right: the heat and the pushing and crowding were
almost unbearable. Maya saw an endless succession of bees go by in such swarming
haste that sometimes one climbed up and over another, or several rolled past
together clotted in a ball.
Once the queen-bee approached. Cassandra and Maya were jostled aside.
A drone, a friendly young fellow of immaculate appearance, came to
their assistance. He nodded to Maya and stroked the shining hairs on his breast
rather nervously with his foreleg. (The bees use their forelegs as arms and
hands.)
“The crash will come,” he said to Cassandra. “The revolutionists will leave
the city. A new queen has already been proclaimed.”