In his surprise he forgot about the strange flower and sat looking up at
Mee-ko. At once Mee-ko became quiet. He ran along the branch and down
the tree behind little Luke. Then he leaped to the ground and ran across
to another tree. When he thought he was safe, he began to talk and scold
again. To the little boy it seemed as if Mee-ko was saying, "Come here,
come away, follow me, follow me!"

But little Luke did not care to chase Mee-ko. He knew he could not catch
him, and besides, he wanted the strange flower. As soon as he reached
out his hand for it again, Mee-ko began to scold more angrily than
before. "Stop, let it alone, go away," he screamed.

"That is queer," thought little Luke; "I wonder what is the matter with
him. What can he care about the strange flower?"

Just then Ah-mo the Honey Bee flew up toward little Luke and then back
again to the flower. Little Luke reached over and seized the flower.
The stem was strong and he pulled it up, root and all. He put it to his
nose. Its odor was strangely sweet. From the broken stem some clear
juice oozed out upon his hand. Ah-mo the Honey Bee flew down and sipped
it. Then he rose and began to buzz around little Luke's head. Without
thinking, the little boy put his hand to his lips and his mouth was
filled with a strange, sweet taste. At the same time a mist rose before
his eyes, a strange feeling ran through his body, and his head swam.

In a moment the strange feeling passed away and the mist cleared from
before his face. He looked up and could scarcely believe his eyes. There
in a half circle around him sat a strange company--the strangest he had
ever seen.