David's head reeled as he watched this amazing performance. There was no need to pinch himself to see if he were dreaming: he was perfectly wide awake. Everything else around him was behaving in a normal way. The mountain was solid beneath him, the sunlight streamed down as before. Yet there was the bird, unmistakably before him, undeniably studying its book and speaking to itself. David's mind caught hold of a phrase and repeated it over and over again: "What on _earth_? What on _earth_?" But of course there was no answer to that question. And he might have lain hidden there all day, staring out at the bird and marveling, had it not been for a bee which came droning into the thicket straight for him. He had a horror of bees, ever since he had once bumped into a hive by mistake. When he heard that dread sound approaching, his whole body broke into a sweat. All thought of the bird was immediately driven from his head. He could tell from the noise that it was one of those big black-and-yellow fuzzy bees, the ones with the nasty dispositions. Perhaps--the thought paralyzed him--perhaps he was lying on its nest. On it came, buzzing and blundering through the leaves. Suddenly it was upon him, so close that he could feel the tiny breeze stirred up by its wings. All self-control vanished. He beat at it wildly with his hands, burst out of the thicket like an explosion, and smashed full tilt into the bird before he could stop himself. With a piercing squawk the bird shot into the air, flipped over, and came fluttering down facing him--talons outstretched, hooked beak open, eyes a-glare. Completely terrified, David turned and bolted for the thicket. He managed to thrash halfway through when a vine trapped his feet. He pitched forward, shielding his face with his arms, and was caught up short by a dead branch snagging his shirt. He was stuck. This was the end. He closed his eyes and waited, too numb with fear to think or cry out. Nothing happened. Slowly he turned his head around. The bird, although it still glared menacingly, seemed undecided whether to attack or flee. "What, may I ask, are you doing here?" it said at last, in a severe voice. "I--I--I was taking a walk," David said faintly. "I'm awfully sorry if I bothered you or anything." "You should not have come up here at _all_," the bird snapped. [Illustration] "Well, I'm really sorry. But there was a bee in the bush here. I--I didn't mean to...." The fright had been too much. Tears started in David's eyes, and his lip began to tremble. The bird seemed reassured, for its manner visibly softened. It lowered and folded its wings, and the glare faded from its eyes. "I'd go away," David mumbled apologetically, "only I'm stuck." He rubbed his eyes on his sleeve.