And so Cunora silently backed away, an
inch at a time, until it was safe to turn and run.
On another occasion Rolla surprised a big drone bee, just as she
bent to take a drink of water from a stream. The insect had been out
of her sight, on the other side of a boulder. It rose with an angry
buzz as she bent down; a few feet away from her it hung in the air,
apparently scrutinizing her to make sure that she was one of the
runaways. Her heart leaped to her mouth. Suppose they were reported!
She made a lightninglike grab at the thing, and very nearly caught
it. Straight up it shot, taken by surprise, and dashed blindly into
a ledge of rock which hung overhead. For a second it floundered,
dazed; and that second was its last. Cunora gave a single bound
forward, and with a vicious swing of a palm-leaf, which she always
carried, smashed the bee flat.
Before they had been free five days they came to an exceedingly
serious conclusion: that it was only a question of time until they
were caught.
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