The Spiders' Exodus 



of the sun does not always enable us to dis- 

 cern them. 



We must not let all the climbers be stranded 

 on the ceiling, an inhospitable region, where 

 most of them will doubtless perish, being un- 

 able to produce a second thread before they 

 have had a meal. I open the window. A 

 current of lukewarm air, coming from the 

 chafing-dish, escapes through the top. Dan- 

 delion-plumes, taking that direction, tell 

 me so. The wafting threads cannot fail 

 to be carried by this flow of air and to 

 lengthen out in the open, where a light breeze 

 is blowing. 



I take a pair of sharp scissors and, without 

 shaking the threads, cut a few that are 

 just visible at the base, where they are 

 thickened with an added strand. The result 

 of this operation is marvellous. Hanging to 

 the flying-rope, which is borne on the wind 

 outside, the Spider passes through the win- 

 dow, suddenly flies off and disappears. An 

 easy way of travelling, if the conveyance 

 possessed a rudder that allowed the passenger 

 to land where he pleases ! But the little things 

 are at the mercy of the winds: where will they 

 alight? Hundreds, thousands of yards away, 



201 



