THE LAZY BEE
In a beehive once there was a bee who would not work. She would goflying from blossom to blossom on the orange trees sucking out all thehoney. But instead of taking it back to the hive she would eat it thenand there.
She was a lazy bee. Every morning, the moment the sun had warmed thehive, she would come to the door and look out. On making sure that itwas a lovely day, she would wash her face and comb her hair with herpaws, the way flies do, and then go flitting off, as pleased as could beat the bright weather. So she would go buzzing and buzzing from flowerto flower; and then after a time she would go back and see what theother bees were doing in the hive. So it would go on all day long.
Meantime the other bees would be working themselves to death trying tofill the hive full of honey; for honey is what they give the little beesto eat as soon as they are born. And these worker bees, very staid,respectable, earnest bees, began to scowl at the conduct of this shirkerof a sister they had.
You must know that, at the door of every beehive, there are always anumber of bees on watch, to see that no insects but bees get into thehive. These policemen, as a rule, are old bees, with a great deal ofexperience in life. Their backs are quite bald, because all the hairgets worn off from rubbing against the hive as they walk in and out ofthe door.
One day when the lazy bee was just dropping in to see what was going onin the hive, these policemen called her to one side:
"Sister," said they, "it is time you did a little work. All us bees haveto work!"
The little bee was quite scared when the policemen spoke to her, but sheanswered:
"I go flying about all day long, and get very tired!"
"We didn't ask you how tired you got! We want to see how much work youcan do! This is Warning Number 1!"
And they let her go on into the hive.
But the lazy little bee did not mend her ways. On the next evening thepolicemen stopped her again:
"Sister, we didn't see you working today!"
The little bee was expecting something of the kind, and she had beenthinking up what she would say all the way home.
"I'll go to work one of these days," she spoke up promptly; and with acheerful, winsome smile.
"We don't want you to go to work one of these days," they answeredgruffly. "We want you to go to work tomorrow morning. This is WarningNumber 2!"
And they let her in.
The following night, when the lazy bee came home, she did not wait forthe policemen to stop her. She went up to them sorrowfully and said:
"Yes, yes! I remember what I promised. I'm so sorry I wasn't able towork today!"
"We didn't ask how sorry you were, nor what you had promised. What wewant from you is work. Today is the nineteenth of April. Tomorrow willbe the twentieth of April. See to it that the twentieth of April doesnot pass without your putting at least one load of honey into the hive.This is Warning Number 3! You may enter!"
And the policemen who had been blocking the door stepped aside to lether in.
The lazy bee woke up with very good intentions the next morning; but thesun was so warm and bright and the flowers were so beautiful! The daypassed the same as all the others; except that toward evening theweather changed. The sun went down behind a great bank of clouds and astrong icy wind began to blow.
The lazy little bee started for home as fast as she could, thinking howwarm and cozy it would be inside the hive, with all that storm blowingout of doors. But on the porch of the beehive the policemen got in frontof her.
"Where are you going, young lady?" said they.
"I am going in to bed. This is where I live!"
"You must be mistaken," said the policemen. "Only busy worker bees livehere! Lazy bees are not allowed inside this door!"
"Tomorrow, surely, surely, surely, I am going to work," said the littlebee.
"There is no tomorrow for lazy bees," said the policemen; for they wereold, wise bees, and knew philosophy. "Away with you!" And they pushedher off the doorstep.
The little bee did not know what to do. She flew around for a time; butsoon it began to grow dark; the wind blew colder and colder, and dropsof rain began to fall. Quite tired at last, she took hold of a leaf,intending to rest a moment; but she was chilled and numbed by the cold.She could not hang on, and fell a long distance to the ground.
She tried to get to her wings again, but they were too tired to work. Soshe started crawling over the ground toward the hive. Every stone, everystick she met, she had to climb over with great effort--so many hillsand mountains they seemed to such a tiny bee. The raindrops were comingfaster when, almost dead with cold and fright and fatigue, she arrivedat the door of the hive.
"Oh, oh," she moaned. "I am cold, and it is going to rain! I shall besure to die out here!" And she crept up to the door.
But the fierce policemen again stopped her from going in.
"Forgive me, sisters," the little bee said. "Please, let me go in!"
"Too late! Too late!" they answered.
"Please, sisters, I am so sleepy!" said the little bee.
"Too late! Too late!" said they.
"Please, sisters, I am cold!" said the little bee.
"Sorry! You can't go in!" said they.
"Please, sisters, for one last time! I shall die out here!"
"You won't die, lazy bee! One night will teach you the value of a warmbed earned by honest labor! Away from here!"
And they pushed her off the doorstep again.
By this time it was raining hard. The little bee felt her wings and furgetting wetter and wetter; and she was so cold and sleepy she did notknow what to do. She crawled along as fast as she could over the ground,hoping to come to some place where it was dry and not so cold. At lastshe came to a tree and began to walk up the trunk. Suddenly, just as shehad come to the crotch of two branches, she fell! She fell a long, longdistance and landed finally on something soft. There was no wind and norain blowing. On coming to her wits the little bee understood that shehad fallen down through a hole inside a hollow tree.
And now the little bee had the fright of her life. Coiled up near herthere was a snake, a green snake with a brick-colored back. That hollowtree was the snake's house; and the snake lay there looking at her witheyes that shone even in that darkness. Now, snakes eat bees, and likethem. So when this little bee found herself so close to a fearful enemyof her kind, she just closed her eyes and murmured to herself:
"This is the last of me! Oh, how I wish I had worked!"
To her great surprise, however, the snake not only did not eat her, butspoke to her rather softly for such a terrible snake:
"How do you do, little bee? You must be a naughty little bee, to be outso late at night!"
"Yes," she murmured, her heart in her throat. "I have been a naughtybee. I did not work, and they won't let me in to go to my bed!"
"In that case, I shall not be so sorry to eat you!" answered the snake."Surely there can be no harm at all in depriving the world of a uselesslittle bee like you! I won't have to go out for dinner tonight. I shalleat you right here!"
The little bee was about as scared as a bee can be.
"That is not fair," she said. "It is not just! You have no right to eatme just because you are bigger than I am. Go and ask people if thatisn't so! People know what is right and wrong!"
"Ah, ah!" said the snake, lifting his head higher, "so you have a goodopinion of men? So you think that the men who steal your honey are morehonest than snakes who eat you? You are not only a lazy bee. You arealso a silly one!"
"It is not because men are dishonest that they take our honey," said thebee.
"Why is it then?" said the snake.
"It's because they are more intelligent than we are!" That is what thebee said; but the snake just laughed; and then he hissed:
"Well, if you must have it that way, it's because I'm more intelligentthan you that I'm going to eat you now! Get ready to be eaten, lazybee!"
And the snake
drew back to strike, and lap up the bee at one gobble.
But the little bee had time to say:
"It's because you're duller than I am that you eat me!"
"Duller than you?" asked the snake, letting his head down again. "How isthat, stupid?"
"However it is, it's so!"
"I'll have to be shown!" said the snake. "I will make a bargain withyou. We will each do a trick; and the cleverest trick wins. If I win,I'll eat you!"
"And if I win?" asked the little bee.
"If you win," said the snake after some thought, "you may stay in herewhere it is warm all night. Is it a bargain?"
"It is," said the bee.
The snake considered another moment or so and then began to laugh. Hehad thought of something a bee could not possibly do. He darted out of ahole in the tree so quickly the bee had scarcely time to wonder what hewas up to; and just as quickly he came back with a seed pod from theeucalyptus tree that stood near the beehive and shaded it on days whenthe sun was hot. Now the seed pods of the eucalyptus tree are just theshape of a top; in fact, the boys and girls in Argentina call them"tops"--_trompitos!_
"Now you just watch and see what I'm a-going to do," said the snake."Watch now! Watch!..."
The snake wound the thin part of his tail around the top like a string;then, with a jump forward to his full length, he straightened his tailout. The "top" began to spin like mad on the bark floor there at thebottom of the hollow tree; and it spun and spun and spun, dancing,jumping, running off in this direction and then in that direction. Andthe snake laughed! And he laughed and he laughed and he laughed! No beewould ever be able to do a thing like that!
Finally the top got tired of spinning and fell over on its side.
"That is very clever!" said the bee, "I could never do that!"
"In that case, I shall have to eat you!" said the snake.
"Not just yet, please," said the bee. "I can't spin a top; but I can dosomething no one else can do!"
"What is that?" asked the snake.
"I can disappear!" said the bee.
"What do you mean, disappear?" said the snake, with some interest."Disappear so that I can't see you and without going away from here?"
"Without going away from here!"
"Without hiding in the ground?"
"Without hiding in the ground!"
"I give up!" said the snake. "Disappear! But if you don't do as you say,I eat you, gobble, gobble, just like that!"
Now you must know that while the top was spinning round and round, thelittle bee had noticed something on the floor of the hollow tree she hadnot seen before: it was a little shrub, three or four inches high, withleaves about the size of a fifty-cent piece. She now walked over to thestem of this little shrub, taking care, however, not to touch it withher body. Then she said:
"Now it is my turn, Mr. Snake. Won't you be so kind as to turn around,and count 'one,' 'two,' 'three.' At the word 'three,' you can look forme everywhere! I simply won't be around!"
The snake looked the other way and ran off a "onetathree," then turningaround with his mouth wide open to have his dinner at last. You see, hecounted so fast just to give the bee as little time as possible, underthe contract they had made.
But if he opened his mouth wide for his dinner, he held it open incomplete surprise. There was no bee to be found anywhere! He looked onthe floor. He looked on the sides of the hollow tree. He looked in eachnook and cranny. He looked the little shrub all over. Nothing! The beehad simply disappeared!
Now, the snake understood that if his trick of spinning the top with histail was extraordinary, this trick of the bee was almost miraculous.Where had that good-for-nothing lazybones gone to? Here? No! There? No!Where then? Nowhere! There was no way to find the little bee!
"Well," said the snake at last, "I give up! Where are you?"
A little voice seemed to come from a long way off, but still from themiddle of the space inside the hollow tree.
"You won't eat me if I reappear?" it said.
"No, I won't eat you!" said the snake.
"Promise?"
"I promise! But where are you?"
"Here I am," said the bee, coming out on one of the leaves of the littleshrub.
It was not such a great mystery after all. That shrub was aSensitive-plant, a plant that is very common in South America,especially in the North of the Republic of Argentina, whereSensitive-plants grow to quite a good size. The peculiarity of theSensitive-plant is that it shrivels up its leaves at the slightestcontact. The leaves of this shrub were unusually large, as is true ofthe Sensitive-plants around the city of Misiones. You see, the momentthe bee lighted on a leaf, it folded up tight about her, hiding hercompletely from view. Now, the snake had been living next to that plantall the season long, and had never noticed anything unusual about it.The little bee had paid attention to such things, however; and herknowledge this time had saved her life.
The snake was very much ashamed at being bested by such a little bee;and he was not very nice about it either. So much so, in fact, that thebee spent most of the night reminding him of the promise he had made notto eat her.
And it was a long, endless night for the little bee. She sat on thefloor in one corner and the snake coiled up in the other corneropposite. Pretty soon it began to rain so hard that the water camepouring in through the hole at the top of the tree and made quite apuddle on the floor. The bee sat there and shivered and shivered; andevery so often the snake would raise his head as though to swallow herat one gulp. "You promised! You promised! You promised!" And the snakewould lower his head, sheepishlike, because he did not want the bee tothink him a dishonest, as well as a stupid snake.
The little bee, who had been used to a warm hive at home and to warmsunlight out of doors, had never dreamed there could be so much coldanywhere as there was in that hollow tree. Nor had there ever been anight so long!
But the moment there was a trace of daylight at the hole in the top ofthe tree, the bee bade the snake good-by and crawled out. She tried herwings; and this time they worked all right. She flew in a bee-linestraight for the door of the hive.
The policemen were standing there and she began to cry. But they simplystepped aside without saying a word, and let her in. They understood,you see, as wise old bees, that this wayward child was not the lazy beethey had driven away the evening before, but a sadder and wiser childwho now knew something about the world she had to live in.
And they were right. Never before was there such a bee for working frommorning till night, day in, day out, gathering pollen and honey from theflowers. When Autumn came she was the most respected bee in the hive andshe was appointed teacher of the young bees who would do the work thefollowing year. And her first lesson was something like this:
"It is not because bees are intelligent but because they work that makesthem such wonderful little things. I used my intelligence only once--andthat was to save my life. I should not have gotten into that trouble,however, if I had worked, like all the other bees. I used to waste mystrength just flying around doing nothing. I should not have been anymore tired if I had worked. What I needed was a sense of duty; and I gotit that night I spent with the snake in the hollow tree.
"Work, my little bees, work!--remembering that what we are all workingfor, the happiness of everybody, will be hard enough to get if each ofus does his full duty. This is what people say, and it is just as trueof bees. Work well and faithfully and you will be happy. There is nosounder philosophy for a man or for a bee!"
THE GIANT TORTOISE'S GOLDEN RULE
Once there was a man who lived in Buenos Aires and was a friend of thesuperintendent of the Zoo. This man had a very happy life, because heworked hard and enjoyed good health. But one day he fell ill, and thedoctors told him he would never get well unless he left town and went tolive in the country where there was good air and a warm climate. The mancould not think of such a thing, however. He had five little brothers,and both his parents were dead. He had to pro
vide the little boys withfood and clothes, and get them ready for school in the morning. Whowould care for them, if he went away? So he kept on with his work andhis illness grew worse and worse.
One day a man from the Zoo met him on the street and said:
"You ought to go and live an out-of-door life for a while. Now, I havean idea. We need a collection of new specimens for our museum, and youare a good shot with a gun. Wouldn't you like to go up into the Andesand hunt for us? I will pay for your outfit, and get a woman to lookafter your little brothers. It will not cost you very much, and therewill be plenty of money left for the boys."
The sick man gladly accepted. He went off to the mountains, many, manymiles beyond Misiones, where he camped in the open air and soon began toget better.
He lived quite by himself, doing his own cooking, washing his ownclothes, and making his own bed, which was a bag with blankets in it. Hedid not use a tent, but slept in the bag out under the stars. When itrained he would throw up a shelter of branches, cover it with hiswaterproof, and sit down all cozy underneath, till the storm cleared. Heate partridges and venison, with the berries and wild fruits he foundalong the mountains. Whenever he saw some rare animal that the Zoo wouldwant, he shot it, and dried its skin in the sun. In course of time, hemade a big bundle of such skins, which he carried on his shoulderwhenever he moved his camp to a new place. Many beautifully spottedsnakes he was able to catch alive; and these he kept in a big hollowgourd--for in South America wild squashes and pumpkins grow till theyare as large as gasoline cans.
All this was very hard work but the man grew strong and healthy again.And what an appetite he had when supper time came around! One day whenhis provisions were getting low, he went out hunting with his gun. Soonhe came to a wide lake, and what should he see on the shore but a hugepanther that had caught a tortoise! The fierce animal had drawn theturtle up out of the water and was clawing between the two shells tryingto scratch the meat out. As the man approached, the panther turned and,with a great roar, leaped toward him. The panther was not quick enough,however, for a bullet from the man's rifle caught him between the eyesand laid him low in his tracks.
"What a wonderful rug this skin will make for somebody!" the manexclaimed; and he carefully removed the hide and rolled it up to takehome.
"I think I will have turtle soup for supper tonight," the man continuedas he turned toward the tortoise; for turtle-flesh is one of the richestand sweetest of all meats.
But he could not help feeling very sorry for the poor turtle when he sawwhat a plight she was in. The panther's claws had torn the fleshterribly; and a great gash in her throat had all but left her headsevered from the rest of the body. Instead of killing the wounded turtlethe hunter thought he would try to cure her of her hurts.
"He could not help feeling sorry for the poorturtle...."]
The camp was some distance away and the man was very tired. Besides,when he tried to lift the tortoise, he found she weighed nearly twohundred pounds. Finally he put a rope around her, and pulled and hauledtill he dragged her along over the grass back to the camp.
The man had no extra pieces of cloth to make a bandage with, so he cutoff a piece of his shirt and took the lining out of his coat. Finally hemanaged to bind up the tortoise's throat and stop the bleeding. Then hepushed her into a corner of the shelter, where she lay motionless fordays and days. Twice a day the man would come and wash the wound withwater and liniment. When he thought the cut had healed, he took off thewrapping and the tortoise drew her head into her shell. The man keptvisiting her every morning, however, tapping gently on the turtle's backto wake her up.
The tortoise got entirely well; but then something terrible happened.The man caught a fever in the swamps around the lake, and chills andpains began to wrack his body. One morning he could not get out of hissleeping bag, but just lay there groaning. His fever got rapidly worse,and a parching thirst burned at his throat. In his delirium he began totalk out loud: "Here I am all alone, away out here in the woods. I amsurely going to die. There is no one even to bring me a drink of water."
But the tortoise, all this time, had not been sleeping so soundly as theman had thought. In fact, she had been slyly watching him as he workedabout the camp. When the hunter did not get up that morning, thetortoise understood that something was wrong, and also that it was waterhe kept calling for.
"This man," thought the tortoise, "did not eat me that day, though hehad me in his power and was hungry. Instead, he took care of me till Iwas well. A good tortoise ought surely to do as much for him!"
The big turtle--she stood as high as a chair and weighed, as I said, asmuch as a man--crawled off to the lakeside. There she hunted around tillshe found a small tortoise shell. She polished it with sand till it wasbright and shiny. Then she filled it with pure cold water from a spring,crawled back to camp with it, and gave the man a drink.
"Now for something to eat," said the turtle.
Turtles know the most peculiar kinds of roots and grasses to eat whenthey are sick. This tortoise went out and gathered a supply of suchherbs and fed them to the man; and he ate them without noticing who wasfinding his food for him, so nearly unconscious was he in his delirium.So day after day the tortoise went hunting and hunting over the mountainsides, looking for tenderer and tenderer grasses with stronger andstronger juices. And how sorry she was she could not climb trees wheresuch fine berries and fruits were hanging!
Thus the hunter lay for a week or more, struggling between life anddeath and kept alive only by the herbs the tortoise brought him. Andthen one day, to the joy of the faithful animal, the man sat up in hissleeping bag. The fever had left him and his mind was clear. He lookedaround in surprise to see the water and a bundle of grasses near him;for he was quite alone, save for the big turtle that still seemed to besleeping in her corner.
"Alas, I am lost!" he moaned. "No one will ever come to me. The feverwill return, and I cannot get any medicine nearer than Buenos Aires. IfI could walk, I might get there; but I can't, so I must die!"
And, just as he feared, the fever did return that evening worse thanbefore; and the man fell back into unconsciousness.
But again the turtle had understood: "Yes, he will die, if he stayshere! I must get him to Buenos Aires where there is some medicine!"
Carefully she dragged the bundle of skins up to the man and placed it inposition on his body. Then she did the same with the gourd full ofsnakes. And what a task it was to get the gun in place on top of thewhole pile! Finally she went out into the woods and bit off a number oftough, strong vines. These she stretched across the sleeping man andtied to his arms and legs in such a way as to keep the baggage fromfalling off. She dug her way under the sleeping bag till everything wasbalanced on her back; and then she started off toward Buenos Aires.
She crawled along for ten or twelve hours each day, swimming rivers andponds, sinking deep into the mud of bogs, climbing hills and crossingsandy plains where the sun at midday scorched terribly. In his fever theman kept calling for water; and it was very trying to the poor tortoiseto have to get the man off her back each time while she went looking fora drink for him. But she struggled forward just the same, and each nightshe knew she was that much nearer to Buenos Aires.
But the tortoise, after days and days of this toil, understood that herown strength was giving out. She did not complain, but she began to beafraid that she would die before getting the hunter to a place ofsafety. And one morning, in fact, she was so tired she was quite unableto move.
"Here I am dying all alone in the woods!" the man moaned from his bag."No one will help me get to Buenos Aires! Oh, oh, I shall die here allalone!"
You see, the man had been unconscious all the time, and thought he wasstill lying in the shelter, away back in the mountains.
The words stirred the weary tortoise to fresh effort. She got the man upon her back again and went on.
But the moment came when she could not take another step forward. Shehad not been eating for some days, because s
he had not dared take thetime for hunting. Now she was too weak to do even that. So she drew herlegs into her shell and closed her eyes, waiting for death to come, andmourning inside her turtle-heart that she had failed in saving the lifeof the man who had befriended her.
The sun went down and night fell. As the turtle chanced to open hereyes, she was surprised to see a reddish glow on the distant horizon;and she heard a voice--the voice of a wharf rat--talking near by. Therat was saying:
"My, what a turtle, what a turtle! I never saw such a big one in mylife! And what is that on her back? A cord of wood?"
The poor turtle did not know that those lights came from Buenos Aires,and that the rat was a citizen of that town, out for a night's foragingin the fields of the suburbs.
"It is not a cord of wood," the turtle murmured, "It is a man, a sickman!"
"And what on earth are you doing here with a man on your back?" the ratinquired, laughing the way rats from the city laugh at their countrycousins.
"I ... I was ..." the tortoise murmured faintly, "I was taking him toBuenos Aires to be cured ... but I shall never get there.... My strengthhas given out.... I am going to die ... we are both going to die, righthere!"
"I never saw such a silly turtle!" the rat replied. "Don't you knowyou're in Buenos Aires now? Don't you see those lights? They're from thetheater district. Go along straight ahead; and you'll get there in notime!"
This encouraging news filled the tortoise with new life. She strainedevery muscle inside her shell and moved slowly but surely forward.
When it was daylight she found herself quite inside the town. And whoshould come along the street but the superintendent of the Zoo!
"My, what a turtle! What a big turtle!" he exclaimed. "And what in theworld is she carrying on her back?"
The tortoise could not speak from sheer fatigue. She stopped, and theman came up to examine the strange outfit on her back. To his amazement,he recognized his friend in the man sleeping, pale and fever-stricken,inside the bag. He called a carriage and got the man home, sending for adoctor to come at once.
In course of time, the man got well. When he learned that the tortoisehad brought him miles and miles on her back, all the way from the Andesto Buenos Aires, he could hardly believe the story. And out of gratitudehe said he would make a home for her the rest of her life. His owncottage was quite filled with his six little brothers; and there was noroom for such a big pet in the house. But the director of the Zoo saidhe would find a place for her there, and care for her as tenderly as hewould for his own daughter.
And that is what happened. The tortoise was given a house for herselfalone, with a tank of water in the front yard, where she could swim ifshe wanted to. She was allowed to wander at will over all the gardens ofthe Zoo, though she spent a large part of her time near the monkeyhouse, where there was most to eat.
And she is still living there. Go to the zooelogical park any day and youwill see an enormously big tortoise crawling slowly along over the greengrass. If you wait long enough you will see a man come up, stoop overand rap gently with his knuckles on her shell.
That's the tortoise we have been talking about--and that's the man!
------------------------------------------------------------------------
NOTES
_How the Rays Defended the Ford._ P. 14: Where we say "shiner," theArgentine text has _dorado_, a fish apparently of the salmon family, forwhich the scientific name is _salminus platensis_. P. 18: The river-pigis the _carpincho_, a river rodent, and the largest of all survivingrodents, known to zooelogists as _hydroceros capibara_. The _carpincho_can be tamed, and trained to follow its master around like a dog.
_The Story of Two Raccoon Cubs and Two Man Cubs._ Where we say "raccoon"the Spanish text has _coati_ (nasua narica), biologically a relative ofthe bear family.
_The Blind Doe._ P. 75: The stingless bees in question are those called_yatei_ or _miri_ in the Guarani dialect. P. 80: Our "anteater" is thevariety found in Northern Argentina, there known as the _osohormiguero_. The Spanish name is _tamandua_, and the scientific,_mirmecophaga tridactyla_.
_The Alligator War._ P. 97: Where we say "walnut and mahogany" theArgentine text reads _quebracho_ and _lapacho_, hardwood trees known tocommerce under their Spanish names and common in the Chaco region. P.104: We say "sturgeon." The word used by Quiroga is _surubi_, a largeSouth American river fish of the torpedo family (_pseudo-platystomacoruscans_).
_How the Flamingoes Got Their Stockings._ P. 121: The name _tatu_ isapplied also to the _armadillo_.
_The Lazy Bee._ P. 143: The sensitive plant in question is of thevariety called _mimosa pudica_.
A. L.
THE END
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