ng out." "No it won't go out - sit down, my dears, and have breakfast." With that he placed before them just on the ground a huge white dish with irregular edges; it was full to the brim with a steaming omelette. Without waiting further invitation the children greedily set to. Having burnt themselves and blowing from time to time on their fingers they swallowed mouthful after mouthful. Valya became bright red in the face. Karik's nose was glistening with perspiration. The Professor was the only one who did not hurry his eating but used a piece of folded petal as a spoon. The children had not got half way through the omelette before they felt stuffed full. "Well," said the Professor, wiping his beard with a tuft of petal. "I hope you are satisfied now!" "I'm more than that," grinned Karik. "My tummy is over stretched." "And mine is very tight, too," said Valya. "Excellent! Splendid!" smiled the Professor. "I am jolly glad the omelette pleased you." "But whatever did you concoct it out of?" questioned Valya. "Obvious what one uses for an omelette - eggs," interrupted Karik. "That's simple. But how did you get the fire alight. Where did you find the matches? And again why does the fire rise in such a column? Why is the flame green? And why does the fire burn without twigs?" The Professor threw some twigs on the fire and arranged them with his poker, cheerfully winking at the children. "You thought I spent a lazy night. Not at all. All night long I ate fried ham with green peas, hot pies, beefsteaks, soup, fruit tarts. But unfortunately all these dishes were only dreams. I awoke as hungry as a wolf. Well, I jumped up and ran around looking for something to eat. I was afraid to go very far away from our palatial residence. You can see what the fog is like. I could not see more than two paces. I would get lost at the best or fall over some precipice or other. What could I do? Wait for the dawn or take a chance on it. I thought and thought and decided to build a fire. As luck would have it I found two flints in the forest last night. Those came to my rescue. I collected dry twigs, piled them in a heap and set to work." "Like a pre-historic man!" whispered Valya. "Exactly," smiled the Professor. "But I'm telling you that it's no light work. I had pretty well tortured myself before I succeeded in getting the sparks to start a fire. I now appreciate much better how very uncomfortable our forebears must have been." "But all the same why is the flame green?" asked Valya. "Why? Just because it is burning gas. Ordinary marsh gas-methane - which forces its way out of the earth in numerous places. I was lucky. I started the fire accidentally in a place where there was a quantity of the gas below the surface of the earth. Even the omelette came out of the fire!" Valya exclaimed. "Came by itself?" The Professor looked at Valya, gravely stroked his beard and continued: "Just as the fire started to burn up, something near me began to make a noise, and suddenly a strong blast of air blew me off my legs. All around me the air whistled as if I had accidentally uncorked a hurricane. It was a bird. The hurricane was caused by its wings. The fire must have frightened it off its nest." "It was not burnt?" "No, it flew away," answered the Professor. "I then started to look for its nest. And it turned out that it had not been sitting so quietly for nothing." "You found it?" "Of course - and it was out of this nest I got the egg." "It wasn't a crow." "No, by its markings it is the egg of a hedge sparrow - white with speckles. Have you ever seen the eggs of a hedge sparrow. They are not much bigger than a big pea. But I had a tolerable job moving it. I rolled it in front of me like a barrel but I had to rest at least ten times on the way. But it was even more difficult to break the shell. For a whole hour I hammered at it with stones. At last it broke suddenly and I was nearly drowned in the white of the egg. . . . Fortunately, I just managed to jump aside." The Professor looked at the children smiling. "Well, the rest was simple. The white poured itself out and the yolk I cooked on the shell, using the shell as a frying-pan." Karik leant over to Valya and said something in her car. Valya nodded her head approvingly. "Certainly say it." Karik rose and gathered his forget-me-not shirt about himself and with his arms in suitable positions made a little speech, smiling in a superior way. "On behalf of two pioneers of the Froonzensky detachment I beg to thank you for the delicious omelette and the fire!" The Professor bowed. "My dears, in actual practice it is possible even here in this lilliputian world to exist, and to exist in moderate comfort. Just wait until we have got a little more accustomed to things and see how cosy we can make ourselves." "What?" asked Karik, with alarm in his voice. "You don't think that we shall never get home and shall have to stay like this?" "No, I don't think that," replied the Professor, "but we must, however, be prepared for the very worst. Our landmark might be blown down by a storm; or, perhaps worse, some curious fellow might take the plywood box home to examine it more carefully. After all, anything might happen." "And what then?" "Nothing particular," the Professor shrugged his shoulders. 'We should live in the grass as Robinson Crusoes and, my dears, we should be much better off than the real Robinson Crusoe. He had to start up his own farm himself, but we have it all handy. Milk, eggs, honey, scented nectar, berries, meat, are all awaiting us. We can live with very little trouble in summer but we shall have to store things for the winter; we can dry bilberries, strawberries, mushrooms, and store honey, jam, bread. . . ." "Bread?" "Why, certainly. We have only to sow one grain of wheat and we shall have a harvest which will last us for a whole winter." "But where can we get meat from?" "Oh, we'll eat insects." "Insects? You can't eat insects, can you?" "Well, think! Even in our big world plenty of insects are eaten. Locusts, for instance. Locusts are eaten roasted, smoked, dried, salted and pickled." The Professor recollected something, smiled and continued: "When the Caliph Omar-ben-el-Kotal was asked what he thought of locusts, he answered, "I would like a whole basket of these good things to myself. In fact, my teeth are quite ready for them. . . ." In olden days, whenever locusts descended in their clouds on Arab soil the price of meat fell in Baghdad. By the way, they make the most delicious cakes - locusts rolled in flour and cooked in butter." "Phew! Horrible!" Valya made a face and spat out. "May be horrible to you!" coughed the Professor. "It is just that you are unaccustomed to such food - nothing else. We eat lobsters, shrimps, crabs and even crayfish, which live on dead bodies. Not only do we eat them but think them luxuries. Now, Arabs look on those who eat crabs and crayfish with disgust." "As well as locusts," he continued, "people eat other insects. In Mexico many natives collect the eggs of the striped water bug; they call them 'Hotle,' and consider them the very daintiest of dishes. Those who know think not badly of cicadas or crickets. The same cricket about which the poet of ancient Greece - Anakreon - sung." The Professor cleared his throat and raising his arm above his head said: "How blessed art thou, my tiny cricket, Hiding like God in every thicket." He thoughtfully stroked his head. "But the more simple-minded Greeks, prosaic no doubt, baked these god-like crickets in butter and ate them with relish. Even such insects as ants sometimes fall into the hands of the cook. They used to serve meat and fish in ant sauce in France. The Indians, by the way, very much like the umbrella ants. They cook them slightly salted in a frying-pan, or indeed they eat them raw." "Does anybody eat beetles?" asked Valya. "They are the most disgusting things to me." "In Egypt," the Professor replied, "they make a special dish out of beetles. Women eat it who wish to get fatter." "I can see it will be all very jolly," said Karik. "Everything will go swimmingly. . . . We shall make sausages from butterflies, we shall have barrels of salted dragonflies. We must build a store house right away. We can hang the hams and the sausages from the ceiling and stand barrels of pickled plant lice along the walls." "What about the ants?" asked Valya. "They are acid!" "We'll make pickles from the ants. No, better still, we can make mustard from them." "Splendid!" the Professor stroked his beard. "Simply splendid!" he nodded gravely. "As you can see, my dears, your future prospects are very good. And if by any chance we are not able to get home again we shall at any rate live here better than any Robinson Crusoe ever did." "That is all very good," said Valya, "but if we freeze to death in the winter all these hams and pickles will be useless." "Don't worry about that," the Professor assured her soothingly, "we shall find a cave with gas laid on, or in any case we can take the gas where we like with pipes made from rushes and reeds." "Of course." said Karik. "Marsh gas will provide us with heat and light and . . . I say. Professor! Do you think we could build a whole lot of factories and workshops? . . . ." "I am afraid not, my dear," smiled the Professor. "But we might be able to train some of the insects." "Hurrah!" shouted Karik. "We shall be able to fly and take pleasure trips across the lake." "We shall make them do all sorts of things," rejoiced Valya. "Dig tunnels, make canals and . . . in fact, generally work for us." "Oh, yes," added Karik. "We can plough, using caterpillars, make the beetles prepare wood for us, and fly to our factories on dragonflies." "It would be rather a good idea," sighed Valya, "if we could build the same sort of houses for ourselves as the Caddis fly which we could carry around with us." "What a brain-wave!" Karik waved his hand. "I have already said you were a snail and a snail's house you should have, of course!" "But how shall we cover ourselves?" asked Valya. "The Professor will invent a powder," replied Karik, and turned to their guide, "You will invent a powder, won't you, Professor?" "Oh dear no - I can't produce any powders," the Professor started laughing. "But in spite of that I hope we shall not come to a bad end. Even without a powder! You see, my dears, I am a biologist. I am pretty well acquainted with the ways of the world which now surrounds us and this knowledge is more useful than my chemicals. . . . And now, Karik, put a little brushwood on the embers. It's much nicer when there are some twigs crackling in the fire." Karik brought an armful of firewood, threw it on the green flames, stretched himself full length and gazed thoughtfully at the fire. They were all of them silent. The twigs and leaves crackled merrily. Smoke rose in a column to the sky. The travellers sat by the fire and each of them sank into daydreams. There was no reason to hurry. Until the fog had cleared, it was impossible to move on. For how should they know which way to go. Where was the landmark? In front of them or behind them? "Well," said the Professor, "as we have nothing to do I propose to sing a song." The children looked at each other in alarm. "Anything else you like but not this," was the expression on their faces. The only people who could possibly be at rest when the Professor was singing were the inhabitants of a cemetery. To anyone who could hear him his voice was about as pleasant as jabs of a sharp stick. With his eyes screwed up from the smoke and his face covered with his hands, Karik rolled over on his side away from the smoking embers and hastily started to question the Professor, who was clearing his throat ready to sing. "Tell us, Professor, how ever did you guess what had happened to us and how did you manage to find us?" "Very simple," said the Professor, fortunately for the children rising to the bait. "You had drunk half a glass of the liquid. This I noticed at once." "But. . . ." "Yes, there was a but," grinned their guide. "You had drunk the liquid, that was certain, but where had you then disappeared to? Why, I crawled about the floor for a whole hour with a magnifying glass in my hand, but devil a trace. Do you understand? Not a single clue. This - " "This meant we had flown away!" said Valya. "That is too hasty a conclusion," the Professor stopped her. "But we had flown away all the same," insisted Valya. "Nevertheless, I had no foundation for thinking this until the photographer Schmidt's dog found your pants and threw himself at the window-sill. . . . Then suddenly I remembered that when I came into the study there had been a dragonfly on the window-sill. Also I could have sworn that I heard tiny voices shouting, "Here we are! Here!" "Yes, yes. . . . That's what we shouted." "At the time I thought I must have been mistaken, but afterwards thinking it all out I realised things: the dragonfly had carried off the ruffians, and if I was to save them I must hurry to Oakland, to this pond which is in the so-called "Rotton marsh." "But why here?" asked Karik, "the dragonfly might have carried us to some wood or a field. . . ." "Not very likely," smiled the Professor rather condescendingly. "Dragonflies live near water. They lay their eggs in the water, . they are born in water, the larvae of dragonflies live in water, and the dragonflies themselves usually hunt near water. Occasionally in pursuit of some victim the dragonfly will fly away from its usual hunting-ground." "But what a long way," said Valya. "Why, we are more than ten miles from Oakland." "That's a mere trifle for a dragonfly. It can fly fifty to sixty miles an hour and ten miles is just a short stroll for it." "Well, then you came to the Rotton marsh - " "Yes," continued their guide, stroking his beard, "knowing that sooner or later the dragonfly would return to its usual hunting-ground, I decided to go to Rotton marsh. Lucky for us all this is the only pond near our town. The next is a very long way off so I knew quite well where to look for you. Well, that's all. But now - " the Professor cleared his throat, "Let us sing a little, my dears." "Stop!" shouted Valya. "Why, what's the matter?" said the Professor, in some alarm. "Don't you want to hear what happened to us?," pouted Valya. "Oh, yes, indeed, of course I should be most interested to hear your story," muttered the Professor. "Come on, tell me, it will be most interesting." He put an arm round the shoulders of each child and stretched his feet towards the fire. Karik and Valya started to vie with each other in telling him what had happened after they had drunk the magic liquid. As he listened to the children the Professor understandingly nodded his head and untiringly chipped in with: "Quite right. . . . I quite understand. . . ." "And we quite understand everything now," Karik at last said. "At least there is one thing I don't understand." "Yes! What is it?" "How was it that in the den of the under-water spider we breathed quite easily at first and then suddenly nearly suffocated?" "Very simple," replied their guide. "Judging by your story, my dear, I think you fell into the clutches of an Argyroneta spider. That is what the under-water spider is called. The name means 'Silver thread.' The spider is also called the ' Silver spider.' It builds its nest under water. This nest is like a diving bell - a bell in which divers sit and are lowered beneath the surface of the water. But this bell is no bigger than a nutshell. It is held and prevented from floating by being attached to the spider's web which is also fastened to under-water plants." "Oho!" interjected Karik, "we only just got through that web." "But the air?" questioned Valya. "How does the air get into it?" "The spider brings the air into its bell from the surface of the pond. It rises to the surface and turns its belly, which is covered with fine hairs, upwards into the air. These tiny hairs are what holds the air. When the spaces between the hairs is filled with air the spider pulls its web on to its belly and carries its balloon of air just like a skirt down into its den. By the way, as well as the air a whole lot of water midges travel under water in this 'suitcase'." "Does the air last it long?" "No," replied the Professor. "Such a supply doesn't last long. The den gets stuffy - as you found out for yourselves. Usually this under-water silver beast of prey makes several journeys to the surface of the pond getting fresh air for itself. If you sit quietly and wait patiently on the bank of a pond you can very often see the Argyroneta or silver spider replenishing its store of air." "How can you recognise them?" asked Valya. "These silver spiders," replied their guide, "are like balls of quicksilver with black dots on them. . . . You see them most often around water plants. They bob up belly upwards and head down. They remain on the surface for a few seconds and then slowly sink below the surface. At first glance they seem the most harmless of beings, do these spiders. But in actual fact the Argyroneta is a vicious beast of prey which fears nothing either at the bottom or on the surface of the pond." "Why did it hang us up to the ceiling and not eat us up?" questioned Valya. "Yes, yes. That is interesting," said Karik. "Lucky for you the spider was full," replied the Professor. "For this reason it hung you up, 'for a rainy day' . . . much the same as do foxes, squirrels, mankind, many birds. There is nothing very remarkable in this. It would have gobbled you Up the first day that the cold or heat had made all its usual prey hide themselves." "Aha! I see," said Valya. "Our spider was full but the spider next door was not so well provided and that is why it broke in - in order to eat us." "Oh, no!" said their guide. "The intruder was . . . . Do you know what?" "I know," shouted Karik. "It's enemy." "No," smiled the Professor. "The one who came in was . . . was its bridegroom." "Its bridegroom? How do you know that?" the children marvelled. "These spiders," explained the Professor, "always build their under-water dens side by side; the spider fastens his den to that of the lady spider. Then he bites his way through the walls and pays a visit. . . ." "Which," interjected Karik, "would ordinarily be called a brawl." "Yes, sometimes the bride gets angered by something and she throws herself at the bridegroom and eats him up and sometimes the bridegroom, having overpowered his bride, eats her up, but most often the bride meets her bridegroom affectionately and they begin to live together very peaceably." The Professor got up. "It seems to me," he announced, "that it is high time for us to get out again. Come on, we must collect our goods and chattels." He rummaged in the bushes and pulled out a splendid leather satchel. "Oy!" Valya opened her eyes wide, "Where did you buy that?" "I didn't buy it," smiled their guide. "I obtained it in the form of a gift from one of the Tardigrades - the Bear Animalcule. . . . While you were asleep I cut a bit off and, as you see, it makes an excellent satchel." "Ha, ha!" Karik was nodding his head, "a Bear animal attacked us and you killed it and skinned it." "Nothing of the sort," replied the Professor. "An animalcule couldn't attack us. This one is a very minute creature not more than a millimetre in size - and I did not attack it." "But the satchel is made of skin?" "The satchel. My dears, you see the Bear Animalcule has its family by means of eggs, and in order that no one should devour the eggs, it takes off its skin and puts the eggs in it just as if it was a suitcase." "But doesn't it die?" questioned Valya. "No." "Like snakes !" said Karik. "They also change their skins." "Yes," nodded the Professor. "Only snakes just throw away their old skins, but the Bear Animalcule has found this excellent use for it. . . ." "What did you do with the eggs?" "I threw them away; they, unfortunately, are not edible." The Professor opened the satchel and put into it the dish made of egg shell and the remains of the omelette which he carefully wrapped in the pink petal of some sort of flower. * * * * * The wind was now blowing freshly. The fog began to get thinner. The wind carried it like smoke over the fields, flinging it down in the hollows and ravines. The Professor covered the embers with earth. "Well," he said, "we should be off. Get ready, my dears." "But we are ready." Valya jumped up. "Here!" their guide said gruffly, examining first Valya then Karik, and after thinking a little, added: "You want to dress yourselves better." "How can we dress ourselves better?" asked Valya, examining her forget-me-not frock, which had got crumpled during the night, was torn and hung down in tatters. "Why, in the same sort of suit as I have," rejoined the Professor. He threw off his shoulders his crumpled cloak and underneath was a silvery suit made of spider's web. It was only then the children remembered that he had this strange silvery suit on when he had first appeared to them, but they had not paid any attention to it then. Now they examined the costume as if it was the first time they had seen it. "Oh! Isn't it lovely! What is it made of?" asked Valya. "Out of spider's web." "I'd like one of those," said Karik. "Me too, please!" shouted Valya. "Come on," said Karik. "Only yesterday I saw a spider's web near here." "Oh, no," grinned the Professor. "I wouldn't stand for you taking a web off a spider and nor would the spider. We'll get your suits at another shop. Come on, follow me!" And their guide quickly stepped over to the Caddis fly's house. The children ran behind him. The weak morning light barely lit up the interior of the Caddis fly's house, but nevertheless it was now possible to see that walls, floor and ceiling were lined with a thick dense layer of silken cord resembling a spider's web. "There are your suits," said the Professor. He went up to one of the walls and took a grip with his hands. "Heave ho!" he shouted, and pulled the lining towards himself. The walls started to split. "Eh, we have got you!" he shouted still louder. The lining came away in strips like damp wallpaper. He threw some pieces to each of Karik and Valya. "Undo these parcels of 'spider's web' and clean the clay off" them." The children started to knead the pieces with their hands< The dried clay crumbled and fell off in lumps. Karik found an end and started to disentangle it. The silken cord of the lining curled down in even turns, and soon Karik and Valya found a silvery pile of unravelled webbing had grown up at their feet. "Well, it is long enough!" said Karik, unwinding his apparently endless cord. "There are even longer ones," laughed the Professor. "The thread of the silk worm, for instance, can be pulled out a couple of miles." He bent down, picked up the end of the silvery cord and held it out to Valya. "Dress yourself." "In a cord. How can I put it on?" "Like this. . . ." Their guide made a loop in the cord, threw it over Valya like a lasso and then taking hold of her shoulders he twisted her round and round in one direction. The cord in the heap shook and quickly ran up and wound itself round Valya as if she had been a reel. "Grand! lovely!" rejoiced the Professor, looking at Valya. "Tough, warm and comfortable. Look! Now for you, Karik." But Karik had himself already fastened the end of the webbing around his waist and started to spin round quickly - quickly like a top. In five minutes the children were both dressed in long silver jackets. "There we are! that's that!" said their guide. "Now you take a walk around our house and meanwhile I'll change my clothes too." The children went out. The fog had completely cleared. Around them stood the damp forest. Huge drops of water were lying on the grass trees exactly like crystal balls. Just as Karik and Valya came out of the entrance the first rays of the morning sun started across the tops of the trees. Then suddenly thousands of different coloured lights began to flash, sparkle and flame. It was so surprising that the children shut their eyes and took a step back. For a few minutes they just stood silently with their eyes screwed up gazing at the strange forest lit up with sparkling balls. "If only we could show mother this!" said Valya at length. Karik sighed. "Mother is making coffee now!" he sniffed. "The milk girl has already been," added Valya sadly. "No," Karik shook his head. "It's too early, the milk doesn't come till seven." "And what is it now?" "I don't know." "Oh, well, it doesn't matter. . . . Do you know what, Karik? Let's climb this tree and see whether there are some green cows there." , "We'll climb it." The children ran up to a tree something like the famous baobab tree and started to scramble up it when their guide poked his head out of the cave and shouted: "Labour in vain, my dears." "Why?" "You will not find a single green cow to-day." "Where are they?" Karik was mystified. "Didn't you say yesterday that plant lice feed on every tree?" "That was yesterday," replied the Professor. "Yesterday in the day-time, but yesterday evening we had the rain and naturally it washed all the plant lice away. . . . Now I am ready. Let's be going!" The children turned to the Professor and, having looked at him, suddenly started laughing in a friendly way. "What's up?" he looked at himself in some confusion. "Oy! You do. . . ." "You haven't half dressed yourself!" laughed the children. The Professor stood there completely wound up in silky cording from his neck down to his heels. The whole remains of the webbing which had been in Caddis fly's house he had wound about himself, around his stomach, on his shoulders and around his neck. "You look like a cocoon!" said Valya, shaking with laughter. Their guide grinned. "Well, you yourself, you don't look like a butterfly? And you, Karik, are like a small caterpillar standing on its hind legs. . . . Come on, my dears." "But where are we going?" During the night water had flooded all around them. It was only possible to proceed in one direction. From the Caddis fly's house there stretched a narrow strip of land covered with thick green bushes. Their guide threw his sack over his shoulders and announced: "We must first of all, clearly, get out of this swamp and then we shall see what we can do. Forward!" and waving his hand he struck up: "Forward! the bugles blow. Battle most glorious. Forward! with eyes aglow The children victorious." * * * * * The dense growth of the grass forest was hushed. Heavy balls of water hung above the heads of the travellers - they had to proceed very cautiously to avoid being knocked down by falling drops. In the deserted and echoing forest the fall of these balls of water made a noise like the explosion of a bomb. One drop fell right on them. "Ay!" Valya gave a scream, as she tumbled over. "Oo-ouch!" roared Karik, finding himself thrown sideways. "Don't worry, that's nothing! A morning shower bath is very useful!" laughed the Professor, as he got up from the ground. But the sun had now risen well above the forest. The hot rays were toasting the ground. It started to steam. Vapour wrapped the grass jungle. It became stifling like a steam bath. About mid-day the travellers came to the edge of the forest. Through the occasional gaps between the trees, yellow hills now appeared. One of the hills reared itself above the ground in a sharp peak, looking like a sugar mountain which had been gilded at the summit. "There you are!" announced their guide. "We should be able to see our landmark from the top of that height." "Let's run," shouted Valya, and darted on ahead exclaiming, "I name this peak 'Golden View'." The Professor and Karik ran after her. However, "Golden View" peak was not as near as it appeared. The travellers were puffing hard and wiping their faces by the time they reached the foot of it. "Now for the view!" Karik chirped up. It was an ordinary hill of yellow rocks, for the strange rocks that had shone as if they were made of gold were just very ordinary sand. Clutching on to the sand-rocks with their hands, the travellers started to make their way up to the top of "Golden View" peak. The sun by now was high in the sky. Hot waves of sultry air were flowing over the surface of the earth like transparent air-rivers. Roastingly-hot rocks burnt their feet and kept slipping away from under them. It was indeed difficult to climb. The Professor stumbled at practically every step. The mountainside slid away under his feet, becoming a rumbling stream of hot rocks. To scramble in the tracks of their guide was a dangerous matter. Karik and Valya made an effort, overtook him and kept by his side. The climb became steeper and steeper. The young alpinists were forced to crawl on all fours, clinging to jutting-out rocks with their hands. "Just like the ascent of Mount Everest!" puffed the Professor. Neither Karik nor Valya had ever heard of Everest, but they could both at once guess that Everest was just such a mountain as the one which they were now climbing. At last here was the top. Dripping with the exertion their guide and the children came to the crest of the mountain. The professor straightened himself up and put his hand up to shield his eyes, turned his head and started to search the horizon. "Now then! Now then!" he started saying. "We'll see! We'll look for our landmark, then. . . ." He did not finish his sentence. The ground beneath his feet started to slide away. He sank in up to his waist. The children rushed to help him. But the hill beneath them started to shake and suddenly open like a mouth. The Professor, followed by the two children, hurtled down a narrow, sloping chimney, stones and earth roared down after them. Valya screamed. Karik fell on the Professor and they landed with a fearful plunge in a wet, sticky floor. The first to recover consciousness was the Professor. Grunting and groaning he extricated himself from the thick clinging mud and wiping himself, ruefully observed: "A nasty jump without a parachute! Allow me to congratulate you on your successful landing. Get up, my dears!" He wiped his hands on his tights, looked anxiously at the children who were still floundering in the mud, and asked: "All right, I hope? How's Valya? You haven't hurt yourself, have you?" "Nothing to speak of," replied Valya, getting up. "Only my elbow appears to be grazed." "What about you, Karik?" "I have bruised my knee." The children, rubbing their injured spots, gazed around in fear at the dark walls of the narrow well. "That's a mere nothing!" said their guide. "Why, I have lost the knapsack with the food and the plate. That's much worse." "Where are we?" inquired Valya. "We'll soon see," muttered their guide, sticking his beard in the air. High above their heads glimmered the distant sky. The pale light of day fell on the higher slopes, but at the bottom of this deep, gloomy well it was practically dark. "I suppose," said Karik, "that we have fallen into the den of an underground spider. They are terrible spiders. I have read about them." "What?" Valya shuddered. "Spiders again? In the air, on the ground, under the water and now under the ground - spiders?" "Calm yourself," said the Professor, "the underground spiders about which Karik is talking live in Italy and in the South of France. We haven't got any here." "Well, then, whose hole is it?" The Professor did not answer. Pulling at his beard, he made his way round the bottom of the well sounding the walls with his fist, then he said: "Yes, yes. . . . That's what it is. Andrena !" "What's an Andrena?" Valya started to whimper. "Yes, yes. . . . It's just what I thought. Everything is all right, my dears. Nothing dangerous. This time we have had a very fortunate fall, we have fallen right into a confectioner's shop." Valya's eyes became round with amazement. "You mean to say we can find tarts and pies here?" she demanded. "Yes!" smiled the Professor. "But where are they? I can see nothing but mud." "Patience is a virtue!" The Professor sounded the wall with his fist. "Open Sesame!" The wall resounded as if he had been hitting the bottom of an empty barrel. "It hasn't opened!" said Valya, licking her lips. "You needn't be surprised!" smiled their guide. "It is only in fairy stories that everything is accomplished by commands. We have to work a bit. Dig in to the earth! Just here." He went up to the wall and started to root away like a bear, tearing out heavy sticky lumps of earth with his hands. Karik and Valya hastened to help him. Karik was especially zealous. Lumps of earth and stones fairly flew under his hands. "Steady, steady!" shouted the Professor. "You'll bury us all like that. Be more careful! Please don't hurry!" Karik wanted to say something in reply, but at that moment the wall shook, stones fell away at the feet of the travellers and all could see a deep recess in the wall. The air now smelt of fresh honey cakes. "Whatever is it?" Valya licked her lips. "It smells like tea-time." "It is the confectioner's shop itself!" replied the Professor, bending forward. "But now stand to one side. There! Splendid!" He rummaged in the recess with both hands and having planted his legs widely apart tried to pull something out. "Here we are! here we are!" he laughed, and straining himself handed out a big grey ball covered in what appeared to be a yellow powder - with fine sand. "That's the lot!" he said, gently lowering the ball on to the ground. With a sharp stone he cleared the sand off it and with some difficulty tore something white off the top of it. It was just like a goose's egg, only much larger. "Oho!" said Karik. "Omelette again!" "You don't make omelettes out of this egg," grinned the Professor. "You do better this way," and he knocked off a bit of the ball with his hand and it looked like a huge loaf of milk bread. "Flower tart!" he announced. He wiped his hands on his tights, broke off a bit of the loaf and put it in his mouth. The Professor's eyebrows shot upwards. A contented smile appeared on his face. "Not bad," he said, munching away, "not at all bad! Help yourselves, my dears." The scented, sticky dough smelt of honey and flowers. It simply melted in the mouth. "That is delicious," said Valya. "Better than cream buns." "You are simply famished," answered their guide, "and not to be wondered at. We had breakfast in the middle of the night almost, and now it is nearly mid-day." "No, no, it's true this is delicious!" insisted Valya. "But what is it?" asked Karik, tucking in both cheeks full of the scented dough. "Flower pollen and honey!" replied the Professor. "Why is it at the bottom of the well?" The Professor picked up a white egg with a tough skin from the ground and he put it on the palm of his hand. "That is why," he answered. "The tart was prepared for the larva which will come out of the egg, and both tart and egg were put here by the underground bee - the Andrena." "If it is an underground bee," said Valya. "We must get out of here quickly." The Professor smiled. "Andrena is called an underground bee only because it builds its nest under ground, but the Andrena itself lives there up above us; where the dragonflies, flies and gnats live. Actually, you may often find its nest on the surface of the earth: in Rotton stumps, in the trunks of fallen trees but most often in the earth. That is why the scientists call it the underground bee." The Professor then told Karik and Valya how the larvae come out of the eggs, how they feed on the dainty cake which had been prepared for them and how finally they are transformed into winged Andrena bees. "There are always several such cakes in each nest of an Andrena bee," said their guide. "If you wish I'll get you another one." The children started to laugh. "What do you think we are - elephants?" said Karik. "We could never eat it. It would be better to drag ourselves out of this before the Andrevna bee returns." "In the first place it is an Andrena not an Andrevna," the Professor corrected Karik, "and in the second place I have already said that after this bee has dug out its nest, laid its eggs in it and prepared the food for its young it never looks at it again. There is nothing more for it to do here. . . . Yes, and there is nothing more to keep us here. We have had a good feed, so let's say good-bye to this place." Their guide went over to the sloping wall and catching hold of some roots with his hands started to climb up. The children quickly clambered after him like monkeys. Their movement upwards had soon to be made one step at a time, and they slowly crept up the side of the well towards the big round opening through which the blue sky was peeping. Every now and then they stopped to get their breath and then climbed on upwards. The rocks, dislodged by their feet, fell with a rumble to the very bottom of the Andrena nest. The Professor was the first to reach the edge of the well. Here it was light and warm. "Oof!" he sighed heavily. "My word! That was a climb. . . . What's up with you, children? I am an old man and I got up before you." He bent over the dark well and stretched his arm down. "Let me help you!" But Karik did not succeed in catching hold of his hand. The Professor suddenly appeared to bounce up like a rubber ball. High above the well they saw his heels and - he vanished. Karik clung to the side of the well in terror. "Sh-sh-sh!" "What is it?" asked Valya. "A bird has pecked him off!" whispered Karik. "A huge, huge bird with enormous wings!" Valya shuddered. "You saw it?" "Yes, I saw the wings - enormous. Like sails!" The children looked at each other. Tears started to Valya's eyes. Karik said: "All the same he'll get away!" Valya started to cry quietly. "Now, don't cry, please! He'll get away!" Karik comforted his sister, and looking cautiously out of the well, shouted loudly: "Professor! Professor!" There was no answer. Valya wiped away the tears with her fist and said resolutely: "We must climb out!" "We must!" agreed Karik. And the children helping each other climbed out of the well. They stood once more on the summit of the "Golden View" pe