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 awe-
struck 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.