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Into her dreams, echoing as from a great distance, she carried the ancient song of the soldier-bees: Sunlight, sunlight, golden sheen, By your glow our lives are lighted; Bless our labors, bless our Queen, Let us always be united. The kingdom of the bees was in a whirl of excitement. Not even in the days of the revolution had the turmoil been so great. The hive rumbled and roared.
When a hornet at the entrance gave signs of exhaustion, the bees shammed the same, and let him crawl in; but the instant the one behind showed his head a great swarm of fresh soldiers dashed up to defend the apparently unprotected entrance, while the invader who had gone on ahead would find himself, already wearied, suddenly confronted by glittering ranks of soldier-bees who had not yet stirred a finger in battle.
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