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On the way, he saw a group of fighters joyously returning. They brought with them many white chrysalises, which the slaves at once took to the nest as if they were their own. The last comers brought grains and immediately all began to feast, the slaves as usual bringing them food, until they could eat no more.

Tom knew that, somewhere, they had robbed a Black nest and compensated themselves for their recent defeat. He was sorry that he, too, was their slave and obliged to serve them like his black comrades, but he did not see any other way, if he hoped to escape from their clutches.

Next day, he continued his building and the Redheads were greatly surprised, for they had never seen such construction. Then they began to show him a little consideration, feeding him well, but not allowing him to go out of the nest. Five or six fighting men never left his side. But Tom thought out a clever plan. He began to look for large, heavy branches, showing them that it was necessary to have strong, heavy pillars, in place of the thin spines. The Redheads at once sent out the slaves, but they could not drag such heavy beams into the nest. Then they sent Tom with a guard into the wood to select his own beams and bring them back. He purposely went very far and kept looking about, as if he could not find anything quite suitable.

The guards followed him patiently and did not leave him a moment. There was no idea of flight on Tom's part. He noticed that the appearance of nature had changed. Blossoms had disappeared, the gra.s.s was dry and yellow, the heather was rustling and through the wood a mist was blowing. It was cold, and Little Tom was very uncomfortable in his torn dress.

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Presently, they came to a little brook where there was a lot of cut twigs in a pile. There Tom stopped and began to look for hard, straight small pieces. The ants were biting the dried leaves and the blossoms, until he had his bundle of beams ready. Then he took one on his shoulder and carried it back to the nest. Thus, he worked for a few days, sure of being allowed to go outside. Every day they would go out, Tom preparing the beams, and hauling them back, while the slaves smoothed the roadway.

One day, Tom saw on a blackberry a red spot that moved. He looked more closely and recognized his friend, Seven Spot. His throat tightened with delight, but he did not know how to give him a sign without arousing the suspicion of the ants. Then he began to sing at his work as loud as he could. Seven Spot spread his wings and flew away as if he had not seen him. Then Tom knew that everything was well--and that his friends had not forgotten him.

He was so happy that he worked hard all day long, and the Redheads were amazed and delighted with his diligence. Then they began to consider how fine it would be if Tom would ally himself with them, and go against the Blacks and help them to victory. But they did not know Tom.

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Tom, at first, had planned to jump in the brook and swim to the other side, when he should be given an opportunity, but he did not know how he should get to the Ladybirds' kingdom and was afraid that he would lose his way and perish. But now he did not mind, for he hoped that Seven Spot would show him the way. All night long he did not sleep from excitement, and in the morning hurried early to the brook.

But when they reached it, Seven Spot was not to be seen. Tom looked all around, but, all day, his friend did not appear. He was quite desperate when he returned in the evening. The outside work was almost finished.

They had beams enough and were now preparing for the winter.

What if Tom had made a mistake and Seven Spot had appeared only by chance and had not noticed his King? Tom made up his mind that if Seven Spot should not come again, he would jump into the brook and swim across. He preferred to die in the wood rather than to spend the rest of his life in captivity with the Black Ants.

When, next day, Tom came with his guards to the brook, there was no sign of Seven Spot. The last beams were prepared and only waiting to be carried to the nest. Tom stooped to take up one, wondering how he should reach the brook, when out of the pile he saw two great, bulging eyes looking straight at him. The pile moved a little, then appeared a pair of fierce whiskers and two pincer-like feelers and out came a giant Wood-bug with broad shoulders and a powerful breast.

Tom became frightened and dropped the beam. The Redheads ran towards him, but the Wood-bug with a few steps met them. One he bit in two, the second he crushed under his foot and, jumping upon the pile, he caught Tom carefully in his jaws and ran with him into the forest. The slaves were horrified and ran away on all sides; the guards stood stupified, but where was the Wood-bug?

He ran quickly through the blueberries and, when they were far away, he stopped. Placing Little Tom on the ground, he said, Now sit on me and it will be easier for us both. Not another word did he say why he had come, or who had sent him.

With delight, Tom threw his arms around his neck and could not ask him enough questions, but the Wood-bug did not say very much and only waved his foot. Crawl up, crawl up. You will soon know all. Do not keep them waiting.

Tom did crawl quickly upon his back and could hardly believe that he was free. The Wood-bug ran without stopping until they came to the old beech. Into the corridor he slipped and carried Tom right into his chamber. As soon as his whiskers appeared in the corridor, Chrysomela had come running out, caught Tom in her arms and cried from very joy.

When Tom jumped down, the Wood-bug turned and disappeared without waiting to be thanked. As he looked at Chrysomela, Tom became alarmed to see how she had changed. She was pale and thin and only her true, violet eyes were as bright as formerly.

At this moment came Seven Spot, dragging himself sleepily along and hardly able to keep his feet. He welcomed Little Tom and was pleased that everything had turned out so well. Tom wanted to thank him, but Seven Spot disregarded his speech, saying that everything had been done through Chrysomela and that, without her, nothing would have been accomplished.

After they had eaten and drunk, they all sat down together and Seven Spot related how frightened they all were when Mirmex brought the news that the Redheads had captured Tom and taken him to their town. The Ladybirds flew everywhere to find their King and made inquiries of the snails, the ground beetles and the grubs, but none of them had seen him.

This was probably during the time that he was kept a close prisoner in the Redheads' nest.

They had begun to fear that the Redheads might have killed Tom for revenge and buried him in some place. Mirmex, also, for a long time, had been sending out spies and had headed a searching expedition on which he had captured some of the slaves, from whom he learned that Tom was alive and well and working inside the town.

Mirmex would have liked to have gone to Tom's rescue, but the Black Town was very busy in getting ready for the long winter, while the Ladybirds themselves were beginning to succ.u.mb to the coming sleep and were disappearing one after the other. Even Seven Spot was becoming drowsy as the winter languor began to steal over him. With difficulty he kept himself from yielding to the desire for sleep, yawning much in secret, but Chrysomela encouraged him with praise of his real willingness to help. Every day he flew to the neighborhood of the Red Town, crawling all around it, until, one day, he was rewarded by seeing Little Tom come out of the town with his guards.

Seven Spot did not want to show himself, so he flew high above the procession, lighting here and there on the bushes, until he discovered the exact spot where Tom was working. Then he sat hidden near by, on a wild briar bush, until he discovered the store of beams Tom was collecting. The next day, he came very early and lighting low down, on a blackberry, crawled about conspicuously so that Tom would be sure to see him. When he learned that Tom had seen him, he flew back immediately to Chrysomela to tell her the good news.

Then they planned how they should help Tom to escape, but no good plan occurred to them. All that night they could not sleep, and in the morning they again took counsel with one another, but without result, until, towards evening, when Seven Spot was again describing how Tom was working close to the brook, the Wood-bug suddenly thrust his head into the room and asked just where the spot was. He had been working in the corridor preparing his winter quarters and had overheard what Chrysomela and Seven Spot were discussing. When Seven Spot had described the place to him and just how one could reach it, Chrysomela begged him to help them with his advice. The Wood-bug listened very carefully, nodding his head now and then. When Seven Spot had finished, he only said To-morrow I will bring him, and at once left the room.

All that night and the next day they waited in the greatest anxiety, until, finally, the Wood-bug, true to his word, arrived with Little Tom.

When Chrysomela had finished her story, they heard Seven Spot snoring loudly and they could hardly waken him. Seven Spot looked up, rubbing his eyes, heavy with sleep.

Oh, King, he said, speaking with some difficulty, I am happy that I again see you, but be good enough to excuse me, for already the winter sleep is upon me and I hardly know where I stand.

They took leave of each other and Seven Spot disappeared languidly into the corridor, while Tom was left alone with Chrysomela in their dwelling. They sat together until late in the evening, as they had much to talk about. When, finally, they were ready to retire, they told each other that in the morning they would look over their kingdom.

In the morning, when they had come out of the beech, they could see nothing around them but a white fog which lay on every object. Through the mist, they groped their way to the pool; but there was now no sign of the green arches, the yellow cattails, or the red willow herbs.

Everywhere, were only the ends of bare, brown trunks and dry, rustling bushes, while the ground was muddy and the moss soaked with water and even from the pool the beautiful water-lilies had disappeared. All around them, there was not a single living creature. Empty and sad was their kingdom, without color, light or perfume.

Nowhere was there a sign of the former life, or its delightful charm.

They sadly returned to their home, wet and cold, where the Wood-bug awaited them. When he finally espied them, he shuffled about on his six feet, nodded with his whiskers and aired his wing sh.e.l.ls, until he found courage to speak.

When are we going to clear up? he inquired.

Neither understood him and asked what he meant. Wood-bug was puzzled that his meaning was not plain. Why, clear up for the winter, he said.

Where do you wish to sleep?

They tried to explain to him that they did not sleep during the winter.

Now it was the Wood-bug's turn to be puzzled. Tom did not know what winter was, but when he saw that the whole Ladybird kingdom had disappeared and that all the creatures were preparing for a long sleep, he felt that they must surely perish in the lonely wood. Nothing was left to do, but to seek his G.o.dmother and take Chrysomela to her, asking her to forgive them and allow them to stay with her during the winter.

Tom begged the Wood-bug to take them to the G.o.dmother in the little hut by the field behind the wood, near the brook. The Wood-bug listened without understanding until he heard the words, field behind the wood.

Then he said, I know where that is. It is where there are no trees and no bark. There we will go. In the meantime, I will clear up here and close in everything for the spring.

Tom put on a warm suit, belted on his sword and prepared a bundle of food, while Chrysomela put on a warm cloak of mole's fur lined with the silk of ants. When they were ready, they stepped out and looked around over their kingdom for the last time.

The sun shone through the clouds, brightening the dry stumps, while the cold wind whirled showers of leaves and yellow beech nut sh.e.l.ls over the dark water. The Wood-bug was waiting for them, so at once they sat down on his back and started to ride through the forest.

For a long time they rode quietly. The Wood-bug walked heavily but quickly, as the winter sleep was not yet on him. Finally they came to the edge of the forest where there was a road with deep ruts, in which stood pools of water. The Wood-bug crossed the road to the stubble field, where he put them down and said, This is the field and the path of human beings. It is not for us for, if we walk along it, before we are aware, we are crushed. Go along the stubble field. There it is safe and somewhere down there, you will find the hut.

They wanted to thank him, but the good Wood-bug was already running back across the path, hurrying to reach his own little den; so the two travelers started out by themselves to find the human dwelling.

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CHAPTER ELEVEN.

CHRYSOMELA'S DEATH.

LITTLE TOM AND CHRYSOMELA BETAKE THEMSELVES TO TOM'S G.o.dMOTHER.

THEY REST UNDER THE DOG-ROSE.

THE WIND SWEEPS THEM INTO A FURROW.

THEY WANDER IN THE DARK AND MEET A HAMSTER.

IN THE HAMSTER'S BURROW.