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 yet dead, for it could still move its head, and the opalescent fires still flamed and fleeted in its great eyes. But as long as it could not struggle Formica was satisfied, and she set herself valiantly to the task of dragging her booty home.

The distance from the crushed clover bloom to the citadel in the grass was only about fifteen feet, but it took Formica a full hour of furious effort to accomplish it. For a good half the distance the jungle was dense and trackless; and the captive, though utterly unresisting, had a way of getting its wings tangled up with the grass roots or of wedging itself between a couple of stiff stems that would drive Formica frantic with exasperation. Under these circumstances she would always waste many minutes and a vast amount of energy in striving to master the obstacle by main force before she could bring herself to take a new grip and try an easier path.

When at last she had come to the frequented trail and was continually meeting her friends, she never demanded help and seldom received any offer of it; and this was just as well, seeing that whenever a passer-by paused to lend a hand—or a mandible—the result was only confusion. The newcomer was pretty sure to go about the job in a casual, absent-minded fashion, and as often as not to pull in quite the wrong direction,