The Labyrinth Spider ^o'] 



of the sun. Accompanied as it is by the 

 Thrushes' symphony, this alone is worth getting 

 up for. 



Half an hour's heat ; and the magic jewels 

 disappear with the dew. Now is the moment 

 to inspect the webs. Here is one spreading its 

 sheet over a large cluster of rock-roses ; it is 

 the size of a handkerchief. A profusion of 

 guy-ropes, attached to any chance projection, 

 moor it to the brushwood. There is not a twig 

 but supplies a contact-point. Entwined on 

 every side, surrounded and surmounted, the 

 bush disappears from view, veiled in white 

 muslin. 



The web is flat at the edges, as far as the 

 unevenness of the support permits, and gradu- 

 ally hollows into a crater, not unlike the bell 

 of a hunting-horn. The central portion is a 

 cone-shaped gulf, a funnel whose neck, narrow- 

 ing by degrees, dives perpendicularly into the 

 leafy thicket to a depth of eight or nine inches. 



At the entrance to the tube, in the gloom of 

 that murderous alley, sits the Spider, who looks 

 at us and betrays no great excitement at our 

 presence. She is grey, modestly adorned on 



