|
IX. The Bee Something was tickling the top of Sikander's nose. Whatever it was, it was going round and round in a figure-of-eight pattern on his nose, over and over again. The strange thing was that as whatever-it-was went round and round, Sikander could hear and yet not hear a little voice in his head saying, over and over: "Beeline vector one seven fiver, Most mysterious. Sikander was tempted to open his eyes to see what was going on there on his nose, but as a kind of game with himself he decided to keep his eyes shut, to try and guess what was tickling him. He could hear other sounds of the forest around him – insects humming and buzzing, a bird singing somewhere nearby, but the voice in his head was different, as though he were reading a book to himself silently, though this voice came from somewhere else. "Beeline vector one seven fiver, The voice in Sikander's head fell silent and he heard the hum of three insects' wings buzzing near his ear, then heading off and away. "They must find it. Must do. I'm certain base was there." The voice now sounded worried, as though the speaker were trying to persuade itself and was not very happy. "How could we lose it. Impossible. Never heard of such a thing. Base must be there. Nine clicks out, vector three five fiver. Nine clicks back, one seven fiver. It must be there." This went on for some time. Sikander lay in the sun enjoying the warmth on his back and wondered what was lost and who had lost it. After a time the buzzing of insect wings came humming back and he felt three little insects settle on his nose. "Patrol seven reporting sir. No sign of it. What next sir?" The figure-of-eight began going round and round on Sikander's nose again. "Beeline vector, one seven fiver, When the three insects buzzed off again Sikander grew tired of his guessing game and opened one eyelid just a sliver to see what it was on his nose, worrying about being lost. He saw a little bee standing on his dragonsnout, looking around, obviously waiting for the other bees to return. Sikander opened his eyes a little wider and looked slowly around. He saw that he was back at the side of the octagonal pool where he had confronted the Snake, what now seemed like many years before. The surroundings had changed somewhat – there seemed to be more trees and thicker vegetation than he last remembered. But the termite mound was still there, and the earthen platform with its skewed spiral columns, and the pool itself. Sikander realised that he must have been asleep – that his encounters with the unicorn, the Lady of the Island and her owl, with the Salamander in the fiery heart of the mountain and with Countess Griffin at the white castle which was not a castle - all must have been dreams. He thought that it must have been the snake's bite to have sent him so deeply to sleep and wondered for how long he had been gone. The only way to find out would be to ask someone, and the only person around to ask was the bee resting on the end of his nose. "Good morning." said Sikander, quietly, so as not to surprise the bee. But it was wasted effort, for he heard the voice in his head squeek in shock "Oh my goodness! What was that? Don't say the Sandragon awoke. Oh my oh my!" "Well I think I'm awake," said Sikander out loud. "I feel awake. But then, I felt awake before too, and now I think I must have been asleep then, so I'm not so sure about it all. Have I been sleeping here for long?" "Awake! You really are awake! The Sandragon awoke!" The bee was quivering. Sikander was not sure whether out of fear or excitement, so he asked his question again. "Been sleeping for long, have I?" "Long? Long? My great-great-grandfather told me his great-great-grandfather used to say "at Sandragon's breakfast time" instead of never ever. Do you think the tree across your back grew there overnight?" Sikander looked over his shoulder and saw that the buttress roots of an enormous tree had grown winding and spreading across his back. He slipped out without too much effort. "I see. That long, eh? Well, I seem to be awake now and I was wondering what you have lost. I couldn't help hearing you." "What have we lost… what have we lost… It seems impossible, but we have lost our home base, our bee hive. I know exactly where it was when we set off on pollen patrol, but when the section flew back to deliver their first load of nectar, the hive just wasn't there any more. We've tried seven times and it still isn't there. We are completely lost. If we don't find our way home soon, we're done for. We can't survive out here on our own for long. We must get back to the hive and get some rest and honey." Sikander looked at the bee, which had now settled on a leaf of grass nearby, and felt sorry for the little creature. "You looked in the same place seven times and your home base wasn't there. Either you've got the place wrong, or if you've got it right, then maybe the hive has moved." "Sandragon, maybe things were different when you fell asleep long ago, but nowadays bees move and bee-hives stay still. And a patrol-leader bee has never, ever, ever got a location wrong, neither honeybound nor homebound. Oh what ever shall we do now?" The bee seemed distraught. Sikander thought the situation over - on the one hand he would have liked to try and help the little bees, but on the other hand he had been lying there fast asleep for nobody knew how long, and had still not found the Phoenix. Countess Griffin had given him precise directions and he was ready to set off again. His one serious problem was to be sure of which way north-west stood. The bee seemed to be on the verge of losing all hope. Sikander remembered how awful he had felt when he was trapped deep underground and decided he could not leave the bees to their fate. “Bee leader, perhaps I could help you find your home base. I can fly faster and further than you and I can see further away than you. If you tell me more or less where to look then perhaps I can search around further than your patrol-bees." "Sandragon, do you really mean it ?" "Of course. Do you think I would joke about your life or death?" "Then Sandragon look for the hive on beeline vector one seven fiver, nine bee clicks, base was there - hanging from a branch, high on a tree." "What? What's all this about vectors and lines? You'll have to explain it better than that." "Look, vector one seven fiver. Just a shade off sharp southbound, that way Sandragon, over there," the bee pointed with his head, and started going round and round the figure-of-eight pattern again. The middle of the figure-of-eight pointed almost southwards and as the bee walked over that section of the pattern it waggled its tail and said “Over there Sandragon, over there." "Yes alright, stop now – I've got the direction and you're making me dizzy going round and round like that. But how far away ?" "I told you, nine bee clicks, nine bee clicks over there." "Clicks? And what's a click?" "A click? That's how far a fit patrol bee can fly in a straight line, on the level, full throttle, in one minute, not taking into account any obstacles you might have to fly round, under or over. Any bee-child knows that." "Alright I've got it, more or less. Now you wait here for me and I'll go and see if I can find you your home." Sikander stretched out his wings, which were feeling rather stiff after such a long sleep, and leapt into the air. He climbed, circling round and spiralling upwards. The landscape below looked familiar from when he had flown in, looking for the Snake, so long before. He could see that the jungle had overgrown much of the ruined city which had once stretched all around the lake near the pool. When he reached a fair altitude, Sikander headed off in the direction the bee had told him. He flew slowly, scanning the jungle below, looking for any sign of the missing beehive. For quite a while there was no sign of anything looking remotely like a beehive, but then the Sandragon caught sight of a few pale whisps of smoke hanging in the still air just above a clutch of tall jungle trees. He swooped down to investigate and as he came down he zoomed past at least three or four bees flying around in an aimless way. As he came nearer to the trees he could smell the smoke – it had a sweet, tangy, aromatic smell. Sikander flew round the patch of trees and saw that a few scraps of beeswax were left hanging from a branch of one of them. Directly beneath the branch a little fire was almost burnt out, a twist of that sweet smoke curling up from under the ashes. The bees' hive was clearly gone. Hungry thieves had come with fire and aromatic grasses to smoke the guardian bees to sleep while they stole the hive and its honey. Sikander climbed back higher and higher and wondered how the bees would take this bad news. It seemed that they had very little hope indeed. But as he climbed he saw several bees zoom down past him in a much more determined manner than before. All around he heard excited bee voices calling: "Queen's airborne! Swarm assembling! Scramble all bees scramble!" The bees were all calling out the same thing. Sikander looked down in the direction the bees were hurtling - a great black humming cloud of bees was growing bigger and bigger, not far from where the hive had once been. Bees were flying towards the swarm from all around. Sikander saw that this must be his friends' one hope: to join the swarm, join the search for a site for a new hive. He turned and flew back as fast as he could to the octagonal pool where he had left the bee patrol-leader. The little bee was just where he had left it and the three patrol bees had returned from their mission too. All four of them were resting on a leaf and looking most downhearted. "Sandragon. What news? Did you find the hive?" asked the leader as Sikander closed his shimmering blue wings. "Bee leader, your hive is gone. Honey-thieves came while you were at work gathering nectar, and they have stolen the whole hive away. But you must fly back there as fast as you can – your Queen Bee is flying and a swarm is assembling right now. You must get there quickly or you'll miss them." "A swarm! A new home! All patrol leaders will be searching for sites already. Bees – all scramble – Sandragon, which way?" Fly to the site of your old hive as fast as you can – listen out as you get near and you will hear all the other bees calling to swarm. Keep your eyes open and you will see thousands of them. Go quickly, don't miss them." The four bees were already hovering, ready to go by the time Sikander finished giving them these directions. As the three section-bees turned and shot away, the patrol leader turned to Sikander: "Thankyou Sandragon. How lucky that you awoke just when you did. How shall we ever thank you for your help?" "Bee leader, just tell me one thing before you go: which way is north-west?" "Nor'west? Vector three one fiver – over there Sandragon – head that away." And with those words the leader wheeled around and flew away looking for their swarm, leaving Sikander quite alone again.  
|