Those near relations of the Bees, the Ants, afford a further insight into this strange method of reproduction. Each community in the case of these insects harbours not one, but many queens. The nuptial flight, like that of the Bees, takes place in mid-air; but myriads of both sexes participate therein, forming a filmy, ever-shifting cloud, now rising, now falling, in the shimmering sunlight. At no time do they seek to attain the altitude, or the privacy, so strenuously striven for by the Bees. But in the case of the latter there is but one female, and her life is precious. She must seek sanctuary for the consummation of her marriage in the highest heavens, beyond the risk of instant destruction by insect-eating birds; for though thousands of suitors accompany her, she rises above them all, save one or two, and hence would form an easy mark. With the Ants there are thousands of queens, and the destruction of a few hundreds more or less is rather an advantage to the species than otherwise. On their return to earth the males die: their life’s work is accomplished. The females, or as we must call them, the queens, on the other hand, have a long life before them; far longer than that of the queen bee. But for them the joys of flight are restricted to this one brief revel, for, no sooner have they reached terra firma, than they renounce, as it were, the pleasures of life to devote themselves entirely to the work of reproduction. And as if to make all regrets vain, to stamp out all possible temptation to desert their vows, they tear off their gauzy wings, and with them goes all hope of fertile repentance: for the rest of this life their home is underground.