"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 gla.s.s 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 ma.s.sacre 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," 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 Libellulidae."

"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 l.u.s.t 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?"