172 THE WONDERS OF INSTINCT 



or expand their pores, or close them entirely, at the fall- 

 er's pleasure. And so, with gentle moderation, she pays 

 out this living plumb-line, of which my lantern clearly 

 shows me the plumb, but not always the line. The great 

 squab seems at such times to be sprawling in space, with- 

 out the least support. 



She comes to an abrupt stop two inches from the 

 ground; the silk-reel ceases working. The Spider turns 

 round, clutches the line which she has just obtained and 

 climbs up by this road, still spinning. But, this time, 

 as she is no longer assisted by the force of gravity, the 

 thread is extracted in another manner. The two hind- 

 legs, with a quick alternate action, draw it from the 

 wallet and let it go. 



On returning to her starting-point, at a height of six 

 feet or more, the Spider is now in possession of a double 

 line, bent into a loop and floating loosely in a current of 

 air. She fixes her end where it suits her and waits until 

 the other end, wafted by the wind, has fastened its loop 

 to the adjacent twigs. 



Feeling her thread fixed, the Epeira runs along it 

 repeatedly, from end to end, adding a fiber to it on each 

 journey. Whether I help or not, this forms the " sus- 

 pension-cable," the main piece of the framework. I call 

 it a cable, in spite of its extreme thinness, because of 

 its structure. It looks as though it were single, but at 

 the two ends, it is seen to divide and spread, tuft-wise, 

 into numerous constituent parts, which are the product 

 of as many crossings. These diverging fibers, with their 



