When I returned with my last load, well toward sunset, I found Crip waiting at our rendezvous, my ancient cell.
“You have done well to-day,” he said, “and I wanted to tell you so. Five miles is a long journey to go for a load, but it was worth it. I, too, made one trip—but have pity on me—only when I got there did I remember that I had no basket-legs; hence I was forced to return empty-handed. It is too much for me to bear. I am old and useless.”
I could not stand to hear him depreciate himself in such fashion, and remonstrated with him.
“Well, it’s too true,” he persisted. “Some day you will understand.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
A Midnight Adventure
I did not answer Crip, for at the moment I was notified that I should take my turn at guard duty, and I went at once to report.
It was now fast growing dark, and the last workers were dropping on the alighting-board and groping their way into the hive. It was the duty of guards to inspect all who entered, and to keep out bugs and ants and intruders. More than a score of guards, I among them, kept a continuous patrol before the entrance; and all went well until far into the night.
The Master with his little Shadow had passed among us as if to bid us good night, and had gone. The moon was now rising, and a mocking-bird in a neighboring tree had been rendering melodies without number. There was no sound in all the world save the mocking-bird’s song that ebbed and flowed in ever wilder cadence. High above his perch he would soar into the moonlight, and as he dropped again—his little gray body looking like a bit of mist—he would almost burst his throat with rapturous song. Often had I heard him sing, but never had he so completely abandoned himself to the sheer frenzy of it—and at such an hour!