94 Trap-Door Spiders 



tremely stupid. Possibly, even with this adjunct, it appears 

 to some minds as an eminently suitable and proper way of 

 dying. 



On the hills they make the nests from eight to ten inches 

 long. They are rarely straight. For a few inches they are 

 verticle, then they gradually curve, generally up hill, and 

 sometimes there is a double curve. I have one that has a 

 sharp turn near the bottom, almost at right angles to the gen- 

 eral direction. On account of these curves no caller is able 

 to tell whether the lady of the house is at home by looking 

 down the hallway. Generally the walls are silken-lined 

 throughout, but some individuals are not particular and leave 

 the lower end bare. Then these mud walls are scarred and 

 marked with impressions of the spider's claws. 



The door is the most curious part of the nest. It is some- 

 times so well fitted that it is impossible to open it without the 

 aid of a penknife, but it can always be opened without injury 

 to hinge. The silk on the hinge part is thick and strong. 

 The hinge line is generally toward the top of the hill, but not 

 always, for I have found nests that open up hill and side wise. 

 Considering the rush with which rain comes here it would be 

 provident always to have the doors open downward, so as not 

 to be swept open by the floods. The hinges are always made 

 so strong that they spring the door to, regardless of inclina- 

 tion of position. The door stands at about an angle of 45 

 degrees and shuts as soon as the spider has crawled out. The 

 worn hinges of specimens that have been handled do not give 

 a correct idea of the tension of web in inhabited nests. 



The spiders are nocturnal or crepuscular. After four 

 o'clock in the afternoon it is not uncommon to see a door 

 gently fall to on the approach of footsteps. Spiders often be- 

 tray their nests in this way. If an attempt is made to open 

 the door, one finds that the spider is holding it down on the 

 other side with considerable strength. She catches her claws 

 in the silk and braces herself against the walls by means of 

 her many legs, and pulls for dear life. 



In every door there are four or five little holes in the silk 

 opposite the middle of the hinge, which might be called in- 

 verted door knobs, and in these she inserts her claws to open 

 or shut the door. When she finds her efforts are of no avail 

 and the door slips from her grasp, she hastens to her recep- 

 tion room at the bottom of the tube, and, throwing herself 

 backward with all feet and her cruel fangs upturned to re- 

 ceive anything that descends, she waits patiently for future de- 



