The Burrow loi 



remove all fears of landslip, the Lycosa delights 

 in tall turrets. She understands the art of 

 donjon-building and puts it into practice as 

 often as she possesses the means. 



This art is akin to another, from which it is 

 apparently derived. If the sun be fierce or if 

 rain threaten, the Lycosa closes the entrance to 

 her dwelling with a silken trellis-work, where- 

 in she embeds different matters, often the 

 remnants of victims which she has devoured. 

 The ancient Gael nailed the heads of his van- 

 quished enemies to the door of his hut. In the 

 same way, the fierce Spider sticks the skulls 

 of her prey into the lid of her cave. These 

 lumps look very well on the ogre's roof ; but 

 we must be careful not to mistake them for 

 warlike trophies. The animal knows nothing 

 of our barbarous bravado. Everything at the 

 threshold of the burrow is used indiscriminately : 

 fragments of Locust, vegetable remains and 

 especially particles of earth. A Dragon-fly's 

 head baked by the sun is as good as a bit of 

 gravel and no better. 



And so, with silk and all sorts of tiny materials, 

 the Lycosa builds a lidded cap to the entrance 



