1 88 The Life of the Spider 



self a lover of high places, the Thomisus selects 

 as the site of her nest one of the upper twigs of 

 the rock-rose, her regular hunting-ground, a 

 twig withered by the heat and possessing a few 

 dead leaves, which curl into a little cottage. 

 This is where she settles with a view to her eggs. 



Ascending and descending with a gentle swing 

 in more or less every direction, the living shuttle, 

 swollen with silk, weaves a bag whose outer 

 casing becomes one with the dry leaves around. 

 The work, which is partly visible and partly 

 hidden by its supports, is a pure dead-white. 

 Its shape, moulded in the angular interval 

 between the bent leaves, is that of a cone and 

 reminds us, on a smaller scale, of the nest of 

 the Silky Epeira. 



When the eggs are laid, the mouth of the 

 receptacle is hermetically closed with a lid of 

 the same white silk. Lastly, a few threads, 

 stretched like a thin curtain, form a canopy 

 above the nest and, with the curved tips of the 

 leaves, frame a sort of alcove wherein the 

 mother takes up her abode. 



It is more than a place of rest after the 

 fatigues of her confinement : it is a guard- 



