The Life of the Bee 
menace of winter. There, asleep in the 
depths of their cradles, they have left thou- 
sands and thousands of daughters, whom 
they never again will see. They have 
abandoned, not only the enormous treasure 
of pollen and propolis they had gathered 
together, but also more than 120 pounds 
of honey, a quantity representing more than 
twelve times the entire weight of the popu- 
lation, and close on 600,000 times that of 
the individual bee. To man this would 
mean 42,000 tons of provisions, a vast fleet 
of mighty ships laden with nourishment 
more precious than any known to us, for to 
the bee honey is a kind of liquid life, a 
species of chyle that is at once assimilated, 
with almost no waste whatever. 
Here, in the new abode, there is nothing ; 
not a drop of honey, not a morsel of wax; 
neither guiding-mark nor point of support. 
There is only the dreary emptiness of an 
enormous monument that has nothing but 
sides and roof. Within the smooth and 
rounded walls there is only darkness; and 
the enormous arch above rears itself over no- 
thingness. But useless regrets are unknown 
> fe) 
