"Oh how nice," she gurgled with delight. "It's all mine—the sun, the grass, the water. I cannot understand why the others were so angry. It is all mine, but I don't interfere with anybody's life. I let them fly and buzz and be happy. It doesn't bother me."
Little Cacinella played a while and then sat down for a rest among some reeds. Sitting there, little Cacinella watched the other cacinellas playing, when suddenly a sparrow flashed by, no one knew whence, and dropped like a stone among them.
"Oh! Oh!" cried the little cacinellas, scattering in all directions.
When the sparrow flew away, many little cacinellas were missing from the flock.
"The thief," scolded the older cacinellas. "He ate about fifteen or more of us."
"That's worse than the drone," thought little Cacinella, and growing frightened, she hid with the other cacinellas deeper among the reeds. But there too, they found enemies. Two of them were eaten by a small fish and two more by a frog.
"What's all this?" wondered little Cacinella. "This is not a bit nice. It is almost impossible to live. They are perfectly horrid!"
It was a good thing that there were many little cacinellas. Those that disappeared were hardly missed; many new ones were always coming, flying about and squeaking, "It's all ours! It's all ours!"
"No, it's not," called our little Cacinella to them. "There are, besides us, angry drones, serious caterpillars, horrid sparrows, fishes and frogs. Take care, sisters! Take care!"
When night came, all the little cacinellas hid in the rushes. Stars sprinkled the sky. The moon rose and reflected everything in the water.