146 THE WONDERS OF INSTINCT 



an unlimited supply. With captives to whom I myself 

 act as purveyor the thing is easy enough. Were it only 

 with a view to helping whoso may one day care to con- 

 tinue these relations with the big Spider of the waste- 

 lands, let me describe how my subjects are housed. 



A good-sized earthenware pan, some nine inches deep, 

 is filled with a red, clayey earth, rich in pebbles, similar, 

 in short, to that of the places haunted by the Lycosa. 

 Properly moistened into a paste, the artificial soil is 

 heaped, layer by layer, around a central reed, of a bore 

 equal to that of the animal's natural burrow. When the 

 receptacle is filled to the top, I withdraw the reed, which 

 leaves a yawning, perpendicular shaft. I thus obtain the 

 abode which shall replace that of the fields. 



To find the hermit to inhabit it is merely the matter 

 of a walk in the neighborhood. When removed from 

 her own dwelling, which is turned topsy-turvy by my 

 trowel, and placed in possession of the den produced by 

 my art, the Lycosa at once disappears into that den. She 

 does not come out again, seeks nothing better elsewhere. 

 A large wire-gauze cover rests on the soil in the pan and 

 prevents escape. 



In any case, the watch, in this respect, makes no de- 

 mand upon my diligence. The prisoner is satisfied with 

 her new abode and manifests no regret for her natural 

 burrow. There is no attempt at flight on her part. Let 

 me not omit to add that each pan must receive not more 

 than one inhabitant. The Lycosa is very intolerant. 

 To her a neighbor is fair game, to be eaten without 

 scruple when one has might on one's side. Time was 



