Bobbie crawled up on the leaf, caught hold of the thread by which Maya was hanging, clung to it, then let go of the leaf. The thread broke, and they both fell to the ground.
“That’s only the beginning,” said Bobbie.—“But Maya, you’re trembling. My dear child, you poor little girl, how pale you are! Now who would be so afraid of death? You must look death calmly in the face as I do. So. I’ll unwrap you now.”
Maya could not utter a syllable. Bright tears of joy ran down her cheeks. She was to be free again, fly again in the sunshine, wherever she wished. She was to live.
But then she saw the spider coming down the blackberry vine.
“Bobbie,” she screamed, “the spider’s coming.”
Bobbie went on unperturbed, merely laughing to himself. He really was an extraordinarily strong insect.
“She’ll think twice before she comes nearer,” he said.
But there! The vile voice rasped above them:
“Robbers! Help! I’m being robbed. You fat lump, what are you doing with my prey?”