158 INSECT BEHAVIOR 



The eggs winter over in a dormant state, hatching sometime during 

 the spring. A quantity carried to South America for experimental 

 purposes poured forth their quaint inmates in the latter part of 

 February, but in the North, May is doubtless the hatching month. 



The young thread-legs are exactly like the parents, only quite 

 transparent and scarcely over a quarter of an inch in length. They 

 grow quite rapidly, casting off their old skin, like a caterpillar, sev- 

 eral times before they become full grown, in August. At this time, 

 shortly before paring commences, I have witnessed what I called 

 "Stampedes." The insects congregate in hundreds about certain 

 webs, which seem to be more popular than others. All goes well 

 for a time, the individuals fraternizing with one another peacefully 

 enough until some unfortunate creature from the outer world chances 

 to drop into this snare. 



The instant a victim becomes entangled, a most ridiculous stampede 

 follows to see who will first reach and bear off the juicy morsel. 

 The absurdity of this event is increased by the fact that the would- 

 be stampeders cannot possibly move rapidly. The sight reminds me 

 of that nightmare wherein I am in dire need of running, yet try as I 

 may, I can move no faster than a snail. 



When feeding, the creature holds its prey in the bend of its spiked 

 forelegs at a safe distance from its head and body. Its sharp sucking 

 tube is then thrust into the captive, whose life is rapidly drawn into 

 the body of the thread-leg. 



Flies, bugs and even bees hold no terror for this insect, who is 

 immune from their bites and stings. From their position in the 

 creature's outstretched arms they can reach no vital spots. A wildly 

 darting sting, a poisoned fang or a tireless set of muscles are of no 

 avail, and the thread-leg feeds at leisure. 



Thus these strange creatures live their easy, toilless lives. They 



