THE WILD MOTHER 215 



parent, as we ascend the scale, that we find the 

 mother growing. 



The female crab, attaching her eggs to her swim- 

 merets, carries them about with her for their pro- 

 tection as the most devoted of mothers ; yet she 

 has no more concern for them, is no more con- 

 scious of them, feels no more for them, than the 

 fruiting frond of a cinnamon fern feels for its 

 spores. Here in the crab is the form, but not the 

 substance, of the mother. 



In the spider, however, just one remove up the 

 scale from the crab, you find the mother-passion. 

 Crossing a field the other day, I came upon a 

 large female spider of the hunter family, carry- 

 ing a round white sack of eggs, half the size of 

 a cherry, attached to her spinnerets. Plucking a 

 long stem of herd's-grass, I detached the sack 

 of eggs without bruising it. Instantly the spider 

 turned and sprang at the grass-stem, fighting and 

 biting until she got to the sack, which she seized 

 in her strong jaws and made off with as fast as her 

 rapid legs would carry her. 



I laid the stem across her back and again took 

 the sack away. She came on for it again, fight- 

 ing more fiercely than before. Once more she 



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