tightly, its head almost buried in its host. That 

 creature, although I did not know it then, was a 

 sea-spider — but of another kind — and the fancied 

 parasites were its tender young. That beginning, 

 and later similar observations in the light of a 

 larger understanding, now overwhelm me with a 

 deep conviction — the death of my little sea-spiders 

 was caused not alone by their being unable to shift 

 for themselves, but also by hunger. For with the 

 death of the parent the food source died too . . . 

 Bear in mind, the young are carried by the male 

 until they have passed through several molts. In 

 the meantime they grow. To gain growth requires 

 food. Like their elders, they are sucking animals, 

 subsisting only on liquid nourishment obtained 

 only by extracting the juices from some other ani- 

 mal — or, possibly, plant. As they do not for a 

 moment leave the fathers during this early period, 

 they of sheer necessity are obliged to find food 

 somehow; consequently they turn to him; apply- 

 ing their proboscides they feed directly through 

 his skin. Thus, by this most extraordinary of 

 fathers, they are not merely nurtured, they are 

 actually nursed! 



[37] 



