The Banded Epeira 



only in thin sheets. Fortunately, the busi- 

 ness is done. The prey is invisible under the 

 thick shroud. 



The Spider retires without giving a bite. 

 To master the terrible quarry, she has spent 

 the whole reserves of her spinning-mill, 

 enough to weave many good-sized webs. 

 With this heap of shackles, further precau- 

 tions are superfluous. 



After a short rest in the centre of the net, 

 she comes down to dinner. Slight incisions 

 are made in different parts of the prize, now 

 here, now there; and the Spider puts her 

 mouth to each and sucks the blood of her 

 prey. The meal is long protracted, so rich 

 is the dish. For ten hours I watch the in- 

 satiable glutton, who changes her point of 

 attack as each wound sucked dries up. Night 

 comes and robs me of the finish of the un- 

 bridled debauch. Next morning, the drained 

 Mantis lies upon the ground. The Ants are 

 eagerly devouring the remains. 



The eminent talents of the Epeirae are dis- 

 played to even better purpose in the industrial 

 business of motherhood than in the art of 

 the chase. The silk bag, the nest, in which 

 the Banded Epeira houses her eggs, is a much 



