Rolla and Cunora searched for hours. They followed one creek almost
to its very beginning, and then crossed a ridge on the left and came
down another stream. Again and again Cunora found bits of mineral
such as would have deceived any one who had been less accurately
impressed than Rolla. As it afterward turned out, the very accuracy
of this impression was a great error, strange though that may seem.
Finally Rolla glanced up at the sun and sighed. "We will have to
give it up for this day," she told Cunora. "There be just time
enough to return before night." Neither said anything about the
half-rations upon which they would be fed in punishment for running
away.
So the two started back, making their way in gloomy silence through
the woods and fields of the valley. Cunora was greatly disappointed,
and soon began to show it as any child would, by maintaining a
sullenness which she broke only when some trifling obstacle, such as
a branch, got in her way. Then she would tear the branch from the
tree and fling it as far as she could, meanwhile screaming with
anger. Rolla showed more control.
It was nearing nightfall when they came within sight of the huts. At
a distance of perhaps half a mile they stopped and stared hard at
the scene ahead of them.
"Hear ye anything, Cunora?" asked the older woman.
The girl's keen ears had caught a sound. "Methinks something hath
aroused our people. I wonder--"
"Cunora!" gasped Rolla excitedly. "Think ye that Corrus and Dulnop
have succeeded in growing the flower?"
They ran nearer. In a moment it was clear that something most
certainly was arousing the people. The village was in an uproar.
"Stay!" cautioned Rolla, catching her friend's arm. "Let us use
cunning! Mayhap there be danger!"
They were quite alone in the fields, which were always deserted at
that hour. Crouching behind a row of bushes, they quickly drew near
to the village, all without being seen. Otherwise, this tale would
never be told.
For Corrus and Dulnop, after having satisfied themselves that the
wondrous flowering flower would live as long as they continued to
feed it, had immediately decided to carry it home. To do so they
first tried building the fire on a large piece of bark. Of course it
burned through, and there had been more delay. Finally Corrus
located a piece of slate, so large that a small fire could be kept
up without danger of spilling.
The two men had hurried straight for the village. Not once did
either of them dream what a magnificent spectacle they made; the two
skin-clad aborigines, bearing the thing which was to change them
from slaves into free beings, with all the wonders of civilization
to come in its train. Behind them as they marched, if they but knew
it, stalked the principles of the steam engine, of the printing-press,
of scientific agriculture and mechanical industry in general. Look
about the room in which you sit as you read this; even to the door-knobs
every single item depends upon fire, directly or indirectly! But
Corrus and Dulnop were as ignorant of this as their teeth were devoid
of fillings.
Not until then did it occur to the four watchers on the earth that
there was anything premature about the affair. It was Smith who
first observed:
"Say, Van, I never thought to impress Dulnop with any plan for using
the fire. How about you and Corrus?"
"By George!" seriously, from the geologist. And immediately the two
set to work trying to reach their agents' minds.
They failed! Dulnop and Corrus were both too excited, far too wide
awake, to feel even the united efforts of all four on the earth. And
the two Sanusians marched straight into the village without the
remotest idea of how they should act.
"It is a flower!" he shrieked, frantic with joy. "The flower has
come!" the shout was passed along. "Corrus and Dulnop have found the
flowering blossom!"
Within a single minute the two men were surrounded by the whole
human population of the place. For the most part the natives were
too awestruck to come very near; they were content to stand off and
stare at the marvel, or fall upon their knees and worship it. It was
now so dark that the flames fairly illumined their faces.
Shortly one or two got up courage enough to imitate Dulnop as he
"fed the flower;" and presently there were several little fires
burning merrily upon the ground. As for the aborigines, they let
themselves loose; never before did they shout and dance as they
shouted and danced that night. It was this Rolla and Cunora heard.
Before five minutes had passed, however, a scout awakened Supreme.
Billie could see that the bee was angry at having been disturbed,
but swiftly collected herself as she realized the significance of
the scout's report.
"So they have found the terror," she reflected aloud. "Very well.
Arouse all except the egg-layers and the drones. We can make use of
the food-gatherers as well as the fighters."
The hive was soon awake. Billie was sure that every last bee was
greatly afraid; their agitation was almost pitiful. But such was
their organization and their automatic obedience to orders, there
was infinitely less confusion than might be supposed. Another five
minutes had not passed before not only that hive, but all within the
"city" were emptied; and millions upon millions of desperate bees
were under way toward the village.
Rolla and Cunora knew of it first. They heard the buzzing of that
winged cloud as it passed through the air above their heads; but
such was the bees' intent interest in the village ahead, the two
women were not spied as they hid among the bushes. By this time
twilight was half gone. The firelight lit up the crowd of humans as
they surged and danced about their new deity. For, henceforth, fire
would replace Mownoth as their chief god; it was easy to see that.
Moreover, both Corrus and Dulnop, as primitive people will, had been
irresistibly seized by the spirit of the mob. They threw their
burden down and joined in the frenzy of the dance. Louder and louder
they shouted; faster and faster they capered. Already one or two of
their fellow villagers had dropped, exhausted, to the ground. Never
had they had so good an excuse for dancing themselves to death!
And into this scene came the bees. Not one of them dared go within
ten yards of the flames; for a while, all they did was to watch the
humans. Such was the racket no one noticed the sound of the wings.
"Shall we attack those on the edge of the crowd?" one of Supreme's
lieutenants wanted to know. The commandant considered this with all
the force of what mental experience she had had.
"No," she decided. "We shall wait a little longer. Just now, they
are too jubilant to be frightened; we would have to kill them all,
and that would not be good policy." Of course, the bee had the
pollen crop, nothing more, in mind when she made her decision; yet
it was further justified. There was no let-up in the rejoicing; if
anything, it became more frantic than before. Darkness fell upon a
crowd which was reeling in self-induced mental intoxication.
Rolla and Cunora came a little nearer; and still remaining hidden,
saw that more than half their friends had succumbed. One by one the
remainder dropped out; their forms lay all about what was left of
the fire. The two women could easily see what their friends were
blind to: the bees were simply biding their time.
"Ought we not to rush in and warn them?" whispered Cunora to Rolla.
"Surely the flower hath driven them mad!"
"Hush!" warned the older woman. "Be quiet! Everything depends upon
our silence!"
It was true. Only two of the villagers remained upon their feet, and
shortly one of these staggered and fell in his tracks. The one who
was left was Corrus himself, his immense vitality keeping him going.
Then he, too, after a final whoop of triumph and defiance,
absolutely unconscious of the poison-laden horde that surrounded
him, fell senseless to the earth. Another minute, and the whole
crowd was still.