“Make way! I’m coming.”
Maya’s agonized heart began to beat stormily. She recognized the voice of Bobbie, the dung-beetle.
“Bobbie,” she called, as loud as she could, “Bobbie, dear Bobbie!”
“Make way! I’m coming.”
“But I’m not in your way, Bobbie,” cried Maya. “Oh dear, I’m hanging over your head. The spider has caught me.”
“Who are you?” asked Bobbie. “So many people know me. You know they do, don’t you?”
“I am Maya—Maya, the bee. Oh please, please help me!”
“Maya? Maya?—Ah, now I remember. You made my acquaintance several weeks ago.—The deuce! You are in a bad way, if I must say so myself. You certainly do need my help. As I happen to have a few moments’ time, I won’t refuse.”
“Oh, Bobbie, can you tear these threads?”
“Tear those threads! Do you mean to insult me?” Bobbie slapped the muscles of his arm. “Look, little girl. Hard as steel. No match for that in strength. I can do more than smash a few cobwebs. You’ll see something that’ll make you open your eyes.”