The Life of the Spider 



day, in the full light of the sun, thanks to my 

 mischievous intermediary. The web is de- 

 serted; the proprietress is in her leafy hut. 

 The telegraph-wire performs its office; the 

 Cross Spider hastens down, strides all round 

 her property, beholds the danger and 

 hurriedly returns to her hiding-place, with- 

 out taking any measures against the in- 

 truder. 



The latter, on her side, does not seem to be 

 enjoying herself. Were she placed on the web 

 of one of her sisters, or even on that of the 

 Silky Epeira, she would have posted herself in 

 the centre, as soon as the struggle had ended 

 in the other's death. This time there is no 

 struggle, for the web is deserted; nothing 

 prevents her from taking her position in the 

 centre, the chief strategic point; and yet 

 she does not move from the place where I put 

 her. 



I tickle her gently with the tip of a long 

 straw. When at home, if teased in this way, 

 the Banded Epeira — like the others, for that 

 matter — violently shakes the web to intim- 

 idate the aggressor. This time, nothing 

 happens : despite my repeated enticements, the 

 Spider does not stir a limb. It is as though 



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