Page 66 of Circle of Days
The crowd was silent and Stam was pale.
Then Yana said: “Now you can come inside.”
And the two of them disappeared into the house.
Bez was walking through West Wood with a young woman called Lali. He was fond of her. People said she looked like him, with a wide mouth and a flat nose. She was probably his daughter, though the woodlanders were not able to be exact about such things. They believed that a woman who had sex with several different men would have stronger babies.
Anyway, he liked to teach Lali, and she loved to learn. Bez was one of the few woodlanders who spoke a little of the herder language, and he was teaching it to Lali. Suddenly he stopped and said: “Look at that.”
She said: “What?”
He pointed to a dead pine tree.
“It’s a dead tree,” she said.
“There’s a hole, at about the level of a tall man’s head. What do you see?”
“Oh!” she said. “Bees—lots of them. Going in and out. Hey, let’s run! We might get stung.”
“Just hold on,” Bez said calmly. “They’re not interested inus—yet. And if that changes, the pond is only a few steps that way.” He pointed. The big pond in the middle of the wood had not yet dried up. Bez thought it must be fed by a spring, rather than rainfall—which was lucky for the woodlanders. “Jump into the water and the bees can’t get at you.”
“All right,” she said doubtfully.
“Don’t you want some honey?”
Lali licked her lips. The woodlanders were living on spring fruits and vegetables. The deer were shyer and more elusive than ever, and they had not had venison all winter. And it was too early in the year for hazelnuts. Everyone was hungry.
Bez said: “Go back to the village and bring me some fire, please, and I’ll show you something.” There were always cooking fires going in the village, regardless of the weather.
Lali hurried off, glad to get away from the bees.
Bez started collecting fuel for a smoky fire: damp moss from around the pond, the grey lichen called old-man’s beard, green pine needles, fresh shoots. To start the fire he picked up old dried-up twigs and dead leaves and piled them at the base of the dead pine. As soon as Lali got back he lit the dry tinder, then, when it was burning well, he put the other fuel on top. Thick smoke rose and visibly irritated the bees.
Lali said: “I don’t like this.”
“Go home if you like,” Bez said. “I can do this on my own. But I thought maybe you’d like to learn how it’s done.”
“All right,” she said.
“Now, can you see a large-leaf lime tree nearby?”
They both looked around. Such trees were common. “Over there,” said Lali.
The tree had heart-shaped leaves bigger than a man’s hand. “Fetch me some big leaves,” said Bez.
She did so.
“Now,” he said, “get ready to run.”
Using two of the leaves as protection for his hands, he picked up the smoldering fire in its entirety and stuffed it through the entrance hole to the bees’ nest. “Ow, that hurt!” he said, shaking his hands. Then he said: “To the pond!”
As he ran he felt a sting on the back of his neck. He heard Lali say: “Ouch!” The bees knew who had violated their nest.
Lali beat him to the pond. They went in but the water was shallow. They both sank down as far as they could, then dipped their heads. When he could hold his breath no longer, Bez put his head up. He was stung again. He saw Lali surface. Quickly, he scooped up handfuls of mud and spread it over her head and neck while she gasped for breath. Then they both submerged again.
Next time they came up, the bees had gone.
Bez had several stings but Lali had only two or three.
