116 THE LORE OF THE HONEY-BEE 
the weapons of the common herd. She is to die, 
but her death must be brought about in another 
way. And so the fawning executioners gather 
round her, locking her in an embrace that tightens 
with every moment, until the breath is literally 
hugged out of her body. All her life has been 
spent in the midst of caresses, and now she is to 
die of them, close held to the last in that silent, 
terrible grip. 
