294 AMERICAN SPIDERS AND THEIR SPINNINGWORK. 



holding every radius taut, though slightly hagging at the hub. Carry 

 the finger outward to this clump of bushes. What is this? A nest! Tlie 

 leaves have been spun together deftly until they make a beautiful cap 

 shaped or hehnct shaped habitation, within which, if you will take the 

 pains to stoop a little, you may see the goodly proportions and the fair 

 colors of the Insular or the Shamrock sjiider. These nests are built on 

 every side, and vary in their forms according to the character of the 

 plant of whose leaves they have been constructed. 



The closing days of August have already begun to tint some of the 

 bushes. These sumacs have assumed their party colors of red and crim- 

 son and brown, so that our aranead dwells within a babita- 

 ^■r^ ^ tion of divers lines like the tabernacle in wliich ancient Israel 



worshiped. Of course, the spider had no part in the selection 

 of these varied colors for her tent, and has no share in the enjoyment 

 of the discoverer who notes the pretty effect it has on her domicile. 

 Nevertheless, it adds to the pleasure of the scene, and helps to impress the 

 observer with a sense of the fitness of all the surroundings not only, but 

 of these industrious creatures in the midst of their surroundings. 



I had never thought it possible that by any combination of favoring 

 circumstances so many of these handsome spiders could have been pre- 

 served in so limited a space. But here everything appears to 

 „ ,. have united to protect them from their natural enemies. Tiiese 

 bushes are just the sites in which spiders love to spin. Tliis 

 slope, with its sunny outlook towards the cast and south, has protected 

 from winter chill the eggs within cocoons, and warmed them into life 

 when springtime came. With them have come also swarms of the insects 

 which form their natural food. The place, too, is a lonely one as far 

 as man is concerned ; for, besides the farmer's occasional visits, only now 

 and then a straggler, or a lover of fields like myself, happens along. A 

 cow or two may sometimes feed here and pick up the bits of pasture that 

 grow between clumps of bushes and outcropping boulders of granite. Here, 

 too, come, in the summer season, the women and children to gather huckle- 

 berries. But the very vision of the many spider webs, and particularly of 

 the great Argiope swinging at the centre of her hub, is enough to cause 

 them to sh}' away antl leave unplucked the tempting clusters of berries 

 that hang around the dreaded snare. 



Other than these, few visitors come to the spot ; and thus, largely de- 

 livered from destructive enemies, wanned and cheered into life by the 

 favoring slope, with abundant provision for spinning sites that give good 

 and easy access to the low flying insects which supply Arachne's larder, 

 these creatures live and feed and grow and prosecute their loves, their 

 wars, their maternal duties and cares, and die amidst the glowing foliage 

 of autumn, having fulfilled as happy a destiny as one could reasonably 

 hope for a child of the spider world. 



