A MASTERLY BRIGAND 
173 
the warm spring days seem to be at hand, Madam 
Lycosa comes up out of the burrow with her 
agile, squirming burden still huddled on her back. 
The time has arrived for the babies to leave her, 
but she does not seem at all concerned over the 
event. She seats herself calmly on the top rail 
of her watch-tower, and leaves the affair entirely 
to the invigorating influence of the warm sun¬ 
shine. 
“ Shortly the little fellows along the outer edge 
begin to leave in twos and threes and by the 
dozen. For a little while they scamper about on 
the ground near at hand; then, growing bolder, 
they hurry away and each one climbs to the top 
of the tallest pinnacle to be found. Sometimes 
this is a weed stalk or a grassy hummock, again it 
may be simply a clod of dirt—anything will serve 
that tends to elevate the young adventurers so 
that a view of the world may be had. The spirit 
of discovery stirs in their tiny breasts; they long 
to get far and ever farther away. And necessity, 
always the mother of invention, shows them how: 
each little spider begins to spin, and presently 
casts to the breeze a thin rope of silk, so delicate 
and fragile that we are not able to see it at all 
unless it comes between our eyes and the sun. 
You know what happens next, for the various 
members of the Lycosa family are the little aero¬ 
nauts we have seen time and again sailing along 
