254 THE LIFE AND LOVE OF THE INSECT 



the maternal claws within its reach, it clambers up pretty- 

 nimbly and joins the crowd of its brothers. It resmnes 

 its seat in the saddle, but wdthout, by a long way, dis- 

 playing the agility of the Lycosa's sons, who are expert 

 riders, versed in the art of vaulting on horseback. 



The test is repeated on a larger scale. This time, I 

 sweep a part of the load to the ground ; the little ones 

 are scattered, to no very great distance. There is a some- 

 what prolonged moment of hesitation. While the brats 

 wander about, without quite knowing where to go, the 

 mother at last becomes alarmed at the state of things. 

 With her two arms — I am speaking of the chelae — with 

 her two arms joined in a semi-circle, she rakes and 

 gathers the sand so as to bring the strayers to her. This 

 is done awkwardly, clumsily, with no precautions against 

 accidental crushing. The Hen, with a soft clucking call, 

 makes the wandering chicks return to the pale ; the 

 Scorpion collects her family with a sweep of the rake. 

 All are safe and sound nevertheless. As soon as they 

 come in contact with the mother, they climb up and form 

 themselves again into a dorsal group. 



Strangers are admitted to this group, as well as the 

 legitimate offspring. If, with the camel-hair broom, I 

 dislodge a mother's family, wholly or in part, and place 

 it within reach of a second mother, herself carrying her 

 family, the latter will collect the young ones by arm- 

 fuls, as she would her own offspring, and very kindly 

 allow the newcomers to mount upon her back. One 

 would say that she adopts them, were the expression 

 not too ambitious. There is no adoption. It is the same 

 blindness as that of the Lycosa, who is incapable of dis- 

 tinguishing between her own family and the family of 

 others, and welcomes all that swarms about her legs. 



