Nuova; or, The New Bee

by Marion Ames Taggart

  CHAPTER V

  _Nuova sees Bee Moth and gets acquainted with Beffa_

  As the crack-fillers kept on singing their monotonous song over and overwhile they worked, and as they paid no attention whatever to Nuova, sheturned away after a few minutes of listening to them, and stared aroundher.

  It was the first time she had been clear up to the roof of the hive andshe saw that here, as at the bottom, there was a low, free space for thewhole length and breadth of the hive. It was rather dark up here, andvery warm and stuffy, for the warm air rising from the body of the hivecould not escape, as the propolis workers had filled all of the crevicesand cracks in the roof and where the great flat roof-board rested on thevertical sides of the hive.

  Nuova felt glad she was not a crack-filler, and turned to go down to thewax-making group where she belonged, when she saw a curious, dusky-graycreature, not a bee, although with big eyes and long antennae and wings,which are all things that bees have also. But this creature's body wasmuch slenderer than a bee's, its antennae very much longer and slenderer,and its wings not only longer, but covered over, as was the body, withmyriads of small scales and hairs. These wings were so folded that theycovered all the back and most of the sides of the body and trailed outbeyond the tip of the body. The creature was walking rapidly andnervously along the broad, upper edge of the comb on which Nuova stood,and seemed to be quite at home in the dim light of this space just underthe roof.

  Nuova stared at the creature a moment, and then began to approach her.But the creature had stepped quickly over the edge and was now runningrapidly down the face of the comb. In this lighter place Nuova could seethat she was engaged in hiding every here and there small, white eggsthat she seemed to carry somewhere in her body. She would dart nervouslyin one direction and then another, hesitating a moment after each swiftmovement long enough to drop an egg in an open cell or squeeze it into acrack in the comb.

  Nuova, not being able to catch up with the creature, called loudly toher a couple of times. "Who are you? What are you doing?" she cried; butthe creature did not reply, but only worked at her egg-hiding the morerapidly. Nuova called to her again, this time so loudly that theattention of several bees in the group of nurses was attracted.

  The minute they saw the creature, they set up a great shouting and beganracing after her.

  "Bee Moth! Bee Moth! After her!" they cried. "Call the soldiers!Amazons! here! here!"

  Nuova was amazed at the uproar, and then she was shocked to see how theAmazons and all the bees in fact dashed at the poor Bee Moth and beganto tear her literally to pieces. First her long antennae and then herwings were torn off and brandished in the air victoriously, and then herdelicate body was stung and hacked into bits, and the fragments tosseddown to the floor to be picked up and thrown out of the hive by thecleaners. And during all this violent scene, which horrified Nuovabecause, strange as it may seem, she really did not understand thereason for it, all the bees kept up the most excited buzzing andexclaiming.

  "The villain!" they cried; "when did she get in? Has she laid any eggs?How did she get in? Who saw her first? Where did she lay her eggs?"

  Some began now to peer about for the eggs, while others continued totalk and gesticulate.

  Uno, who had been standing silent for a moment as if in thought,suddenly spoke up loudly, while she looked significantly at Nuova.

  "Nuova saw her first," she said; "she called to us."

  At that several of the bees turned to Nuova.

  "Nuova, Nuova, saw her first!" they cried. "Did she lay any eggs? Whydidn't you call us sooner? _Did_ she lay any eggs, we say?"

  "Why, yes," Nuova answered innocently, "a good many; all the way from upthere"--indicating the top of the comb--"clear down to--to--" and Nuovashuddered so she could not finish.

  With this the bees burst out into a new, violent excitement, and theyseemed to be very angry with poor Nuova. "Bee Moth laid a lot of eggs!"they shouted. "Nuova saw her! Nuova let her! The stupid one! Thefaithless one! Kill her! Kill her!" And they crowded around Nuova in amost threatening manner, some trying to strike her, and two or threeAmazons trying to reach her with their lances. Nuova thought her fatewas to be that of Bee Moth's, and it really seemed so for a moment. Andthen Saggia was heard calling loudly.

  "The stupid one! The faithless one!"]

  "A crack! There must be a _crack_! She must have come in through acrack! She couldn't have come in past the guards at the door."

  This distracted the attention of the bees from Nuova, for at once theyall turned toward Saggia and began shouting all together: "A crack!There's a crack somewhere! Why haven't the crack-fillers found it?"

  Then they all began to crowd toward and clamor at the propolis-workers,who, up on their scaffolding, scowled down on the mob, seeminglyunafraid and unexcited.

  "Well," said Fessa roughly, "find the crack and we'll fill it. That'sall we've got to say. Find the crack."

  "Yes, that's right," spoke up Saggia loudly. "Some of us hunt for thecrack, and some hunt for the eggs and break them or throw them out.Every one that isn't found and hatches in the hive means danger for us.Find them all."

  At this the bees all began hunting about for the crack and the eggs.Every now and then an egg would be found and with a loud shout it wouldbe seized and thrown down to the floor of the hive. Nuova, disheveledand still trembling from the fright caused by the attack of the bees onher, crept down to the floor at the side of the hive just under thewax-makers, who had paid no attention to all the hubbub. From here shewas looking on at the search for the eggs with astonishment, whenSaggia, who had been looking anxiously about for her, saw her and cameover close to her.

  "Go up and get back into your place in the wax-curtain, and they'llforget all about you," she whispered. "But why didn't you shout outabout the Bee Moth when you first saw her?"

  "But why should I?" answered Nuova blankly and rather bitterly. "She wassuch a pretty and such an interesting creature."

  Saggia raised her antennae in astonishment and despair. "Nuova, you _are_a funny bee. You are so different. What _is_ the matter with youanyway? Don't you know--but, of course, for some extraordinary reasonyou don't--that your 'pretty and interesting creature' is one of themost dangerous enemies we have? From any of her eggs that we don't findand break, there will hatch a horrible little grub that will keep hiddenin the cracks or dark places in the hive, feeding on the wax of thecells and on the pollen and honey, too, and spinning wherever it goes aterrible, sticky, silken web that catches our feet and wings andinterferes with our getting around easily. And if there are enough ofthe Bee Moth's grubs they spin so much web that finally we can't carryon our work in the hive at all, and all our babies starve and the Queenstarves, and the whole community goes to ruin. 'Pretty and interesting,'indeed; she is sneaky and despicable, that's what she is. And if youever see another, rush for her at once and call everybody. Being prettydoesn't necessarily mean being good."

  "Yes; but, Saggia," said Nuova slowly, "if her grubs have to have waxand pollen and honey for food, and if there is nobody but Bee Moth toget them for them, and she can't, of course, doesn't she rather have tolay her eggs in a bee-hive where, when her grubby babies hatch out,there will be enough food for them? And don't they have to spin the webto keep us bees from killing them as soon as we see them?"

  Saggia stared at her; and then, strange as it may seem, even this oldbee began to understand a little that Nuova's mind was a bit differentfrom that of the other bees in the hive, and that she had a heart thatcould be hurt even by the killing of a dangerous enemy of the hive.However, Saggia contented herself with repeating, "Well, you _are_ afunny bee!" and then she urged Nuova again to start up the comb to thegroup of wax-makers, and went back to see how the search for Bee Moth'seggs was getting on.

  Just as Nuova was about to begin climbing up, she heard a strong,buzzing sound near her and found that she was almost stumbling over abee that was standing in a most odd position, with its head down andalmost touching the f
loor, and its body lifted up at an angle of fortyor fifty degrees, and all of its wings going like mad, although it wasnot, of course, beating its wings to fly, for it remained constantly inthe same position. There were two or three other bees near this onedoing the same thing, and farther away, nearer the hive entrance, weretwo or three more.

  The wing-buzzing bee nearest Nuova, whose name was Aria, seemed to bequite vexed with Nuova, for she said to her sharply: "Look out where youare going, you stupid! Are you blind and deaf?"

  Nuova was startled, and rather frightened, too, by the sharp speech, buther curiosity was even stronger than her fear. "Good gracious!" shesaid; "what are you doing?"

  "What matter to you what I am doing?" said Aria, in a thick, "buzzy"voice. "I am doing my work--which is more than you seem to be doing.Aren't you bee enough yet to know that each of us has her own appointedwork and does it without worrying about what others are doing? If we alldo our work, then the whole community gets on all right. So if you willlook out for your work, I'll look out for mine."

  Here Aria buzzed more energetically than ever for a moment withoutsaying anything. Then she began speaking again, "Still if you have to betold, you pretty little stupid bee, I'll tell you that I and mycompanions are ventilating the hive, and if we should stop to loaf andmoon about like you, you and all the rest of us would suffocate, that'swhat you'd do." And she stopped talking. But in a moment she began tosing a curious little song which was partly made up of just buzzing andhumming, and partly of words. These were the words of her song, in whichall the other ventilating bees joined:

  Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz; Back and forth, back and forth, Fanning and stirring and driving and churning; Old air we're forcing forth, new air's returning. On our heads all the day; This is the only way We can keep sweet the hive And our dear bees alive.

  Whirr, whirr, whirr, whirr; Roundabout, roundabout, Living fans ceaselessly driving and churning; Foul air we're forcing forth, fresh air's returning. Upside down all the day; Beating our wings away; So we keep sweet the hive And our dear bees alive.

  While the ventilating bees were singing and Nuova stood idly watchingand listening to them, a small, old drone bee with crumpled-up, that is,deformed wings, came, half walking and half comically hopping, down thelong aisle between the vertical combs from the back and darker part ofthe hive. He was humming a song to himself as he came along. Beffa wasthe name of the deformed bee, and he was the jester of the hive, ascould be guessed by his hopping way of walking, and by the words of hissong.

  When Nuova heard Beffa singing, she turned toward him, but did notinterrupt him. She was ever so much interested in his appearance, and byhis sort of hopping dance which he kept up all the time he was singing,and by the song itself, which told her something about him, but notenough. As he stopped singing, Nuova spoke, speaking to herself atfirst, and then to him.

  "Oh, what a funny bee," she said. "You _are_ a bee, aren't you?"

  Beffa stared at her a moment, then made her a deep, mocking bow and gavea hop or two. "Yes, pretty one, which is, of course, to say, stupid one,I be a bee--just as you be, only not just so, for I be doing my work,which I don't see that you be." Then he hopped comically about, hummingto himself the refrain of his song.

  No one, however, paid any attention to him except Nuova, who exclaimedrather petulantly: "Oh, work, work, work; always that word!"

  "Yes," said Beffa, mockingly bowing and hopping about her, "but notalways that work"; imitating grotesquely for a moment Nuova's idleattitude.

  "Do you call that hopping and singing work?" indignantly exclaimedNuova. "Why don't you go and nurse babies?"

  Beffa, who was again at his hopping and humming, stopped a moment tostare at her in surprise; then replied, in a sing-song: "I can't, oh, Ican't nurse babies."

  "Then make wax," said Nuova.

  "I can't, oh, I can't make wax," hummed Beffa.

  "Then build a comb, or fill cracks, or clean the floor, or"--and shepointed to the ventilating bees near them--"ventilate," persisted Nuova.

  "I can't," sang again Beffa, "oh, I can't build cells, or fill cracks,or scrub floors, or--" and he broke off suddenly with a sort of catch inhis voice.

  But Nuova blindly persisted. "Well, then, why don't you go out andgather pollen and bring nectar; out into the sunshine, out into thegarden."

  The poor, deformed bee, now angry, indeed, began jumping up and downviolently right in front of Nuova, and then suddenly whirled around,bringing his back and crumpled wings fairly in her face. "Oh, sillylittle pretty, pretty little silly!" he cried; "which is to say, blindone, stupid one, heartless one, _would_ I like to go out, out into thewarm sunshine, out into the fragrant garden! Would I like to go! Blind,stupid, brutal one!"

  When Nuova saw the poor, crumpled-up, useless wings, she suddenlyunderstood, and she felt like striking herself in the face as sherealized all the stupid, brutal things she had said. "Oh, you poor, poorbee!" she cried as she touched Beffa caressingly again and again withher antennae. "I didn't see; I didn't understand; I am so sorry! Won'tyou forgive me? Please?"

  Beffa, though partly appeased, was still half angry, and still spokebitterly. "Oh, you _do_ understand now! You _do_ understand why I hopand sing; why I dance for the Queen; and why I do anything I can do whenI can't do other things; can't do what a drone ought to do, fly wide andhigh in the Great Courting Chase after the Princess. I am glad youunderstand now. But hush, listen!" He whirled around, facing toward thegreat pear-shaped cell in the lower center of the comb. "Hark!Principessa, the new Princess, calls. Hark!"

  Beffa and Nuova stood silent and expectant, facing toward the Princess'scell as did all the other bees. There was a tense excitement everywhere.Nuova felt that something very important was happening. And then came astrange sound, first faint and low, then louder and shriller. It was thepiping of the young Princess shut up in her great cell, but ready now tocome out. It sent a shiver of excitement through all the bees.Ventilators stopped buzzing and wax-makers and comb-builders turnedtheir faces intently toward the sound, and even the crack-fillers, farup at the roof, stopped their work and peered down excitedly.

  There had come, indeed, one of the most exciting and tense moments thatever come to a bee community. It was the moment that precedes the birthof a new royal bee, a Princess who is destined to be the new Queen ofthe hive, or to go out from the hive with many of the workers toestablish a new community of her own.

  Again came the shrill piping of the Princess in the royal cell. Anotherwave of excitement ran over the hive. And again and again the weirdsound came. Suddenly the royal nurses began excitedly to plaster wax onthe outside of the great cell, especially over its mouth.

  Beffa whispered to Nuova: "She is trying to work her way out, but theydon't want to let her out yet. See, the drones are coming."

  And even as he spoke a gay song was heard, in voices very different fromany that Nuova had yet heard in the hive; and suddenly, as the song grewlouder, there came a half-dancing, half-marching file ofsplendid-looking, robust bees, moving spiritedly directly toward theroyal cell. They were a fine-looking lot, these drones, these dandydrones, and Nuova had a thrill she had never felt before. She gazed atthem entranced.

  The drones made a half-circle about the cell of the Princess and linedup there, strutting and dancing and singing loudly. This is the songthey sang:

  We are the courtiers, the beaux of the hive; Of the dandy drones surely you've heard! Our wings are a rainbow, our bodies are gold, To soil them would be most absurd.

  No, we never mix up with the common hive stuff, Neither garner, nor plaster, nor clean; 'Tis superior far to be just what we are, And do naught but make love to the Queen.