9 2 



THE TRIBES ON MY FRONTIER. 



cord between the two trees lower down, and then to 

 connect these by many others, all meeting in a common 

 centre, like the spokes of a wheel. Then, begining at this 

 centre, the spider goes round and round, in widening 

 circles, pulling a line after it, and fastening it to each spoke 

 in turn. Almost before the work is done, moths and 

 beetles, trying to make the passage between the two trees, 

 sail headlong into the meshes of the net, and are put up in 

 separate parcels to be eaten at leisure. In the grey light 

 of the morning, as you start on your matutinal ride, you 

 carry away the whole web on your face, dealing the fat and 

 apoplectic owner such a cruel punch in the ribs with the 

 point of your nose that it drops to the earth in a fit. Of 

 course, the poor thing has all its work to do over again 

 that night. 



5. They addict themselves to occult science, and traverse 

 the sky like a witch on a broomstick. On a windy day 

 sometimes it seems as if an cmeute had occurred in a tailor's 

 shop, and all the sweepings of the floor had broken loose. 

 Long shreds of silk and tag ends of thread of all sizes come 

 floating past. One catches on a tree or railing, and astride 

 it there is a gay yellow spider, as proud as Punch and as 

 lean as Famine; but, before you can catch her, she has 



