170 HAMPSHIKE DAYS 



me, Thomisus citreus, is also singular on account of 

 its colour pale citron or white and its habit of 

 sitting on flowers. This habit and the colour, we 

 may see, are related. The citreus is not a weaver of 

 snares, but hunts for its prey, or rather lies in wait 

 to capture any insect that comes to the flower on 

 which it sits. On white, yellow, and indeed on most 

 pale-coloured flowers, it almost becomes invisible. On 

 the brilliant red bell-heath blossom it showed plainly 

 enough, but even here it did not look nearly so con- 

 spicuous as when on a green leaf. 



I had observed this white spider before, but had 

 always seen it sitting motionless in its flower ; this 

 one was curiously restless, and very soon after I had 

 settled myself down by its side it began to throw 

 itself into a variety of strange attitudes. The four 

 long forelegs would go up all at once and stand out 

 like rays from the round, white body, and by-and-by 

 they would drop and hang down like two long strings 

 from the flower. Pretty soon I discovered the cause 

 of these actions in the presence of a second spider, 

 less than half the size of the first, moving about close 

 by. His smallness and hideling habits had prevented 

 me from seeing him sooner. This small, active, white 

 creature was the male, and though moving constantly 

 about in the heath at a distance of half a foot from 

 her, it was plain that they could see each other and 

 also understand each other very well. As he moved 

 round her, passing by means of the threads he kept 



