ning. She let herself down close to the surface. There was
her image flying in reflection, the lovely gold of her body
shining at her from the water, her bright wings glittering like
clear glass. And she observed that she held her little legs
properly against her body, as Cassandra had taught her to do.

"It's bliss to be flying over the surface of water like this.
It is, really," she thought.

Big fish and little fish swam about in the clear element, or
seemed to float idly. Maya took good care not to go too close;
she knew there was danger to bees from the race of fishes.

On the opposite shore she was attracted by the water-lilies and
the rushes, the water-lilies with their large round leaves lying
outspread on the water like green plates, and the rushes with
their sun-warmed, reedy stalks.

She picked out a leaf well-concealed under the tall blades of
the rushes. It lay in almost total shade, except for two round
spots like gold coins; the rushes swayed above in the full
sunlight.

"Glorious," said the little bee, "perfectly glorious."

She began to tidy herself. Putting both arms up behind her head
she pulled it forward as if to tear it off, but was careful not
to pull too hard, just enough to scrape away the dust; then,
with her little hind legs, she stroked and dragged down her
wing-sheaths, which sprang back in position looking beautifully
bright and glossy.

Just as she had completed her toilet a small steely blue-bottle
came and alighted on the leaf beside her. He looked at her in
surprise.

"What are you doing here on my leaf?" he demanded.

Maya was startled.

"Is there any objection to a person's just resting here a moment
or two?"

Maya remembered Cassandra's telling her that the nation of bees
commanded great respect in the insect world. Now she was going
to see if it was true; she was going to see if she, Maya, could
compel respect. Nevertheless her heart beat a little faster
because her tone had been very loud and peremptory.

But actually the blue-bottle was frightened. He showed it
plainly. When he saw that Maya wasn't going to let anyone lay
down the law to her he backed down. With a surly buzz he swung
himself on to a blade that curved above Maya's leaf, and said in
a much politer tone, talking down to her out of the sunshine:

"You ought to be working. As a bee you certainly ought. But if
you want to rest, all right. I'll wait here."

"There are plenty of leaves," observed Maya