THE NUPTIAL FLIGHT 165 



are unknown to man for him to essay such a portrait, wherein 

 all would be deep shadow save one or two points of flickering 

 light. 



86 



Very few, I imagine, have profaned the secret of the 

 queen-bee's wedding, which comes to pass in the infinite, 

 radiant circles of a beautiful sky. But we are able to witness 

 the hesitating departure of the bride-elect, and the murderous 

 return of the bride. 



However great her impatience, she will yet choose her 

 day and her hour, and linger in the shadow of the portal till 

 a marvellous morning fling open wide the nuptial spaces in 

 the depths of the great azure vault. She loves the moment 

 when drops of dew still moisten the leaves and the flowers, 

 when the last fragrance of dying dawn still wrestles with 

 burning day, like a maiden caught in the arms of a heavy 

 warrior ; when through the silence of approaching noon is 

 heard, once and again, a transparent cry that has lingered 

 from sunrise. 



Then she appears on the threshold — in the midst of 

 indifferent foragers, if she have left sisters in the hive ; or 

 surrounded by a delirious throng of workers, should it be 

 impossible to fill her place. She starts her flight backwards, 

 returns twice or thrice to the alighting-board, and then, having 

 definitely fixed in her mind the exact situation and aspect of 

 the kingdom she has never yet seen from without, she de- 

 parts like an arrow to the zenith of the blue. She soars to 

 a height, a luminous zone, that other bees attain at no period 



