Mad Planet | Page 8

clayey soil.
Carefully rounded, lined with silk, it descended 30 feet, then enlarged
into a chamber where the owner and digger of the shaft might rest. An
inconspicuous trapdoor, camouflaged with mud and earth, sealed the
top of the hole. Only a keen eye could have perceived the opening. But
a keen eye now peered out from a tiny crack, the eye of the engineer of
the underground dwelling.
Eight hairy legs surrounded the creature that hung motionless at the top
of the shaft. Two pairs of ferocious mandibles stretched before its
fierce mouthparts. Two eyes glittered evilly in the darkness of the
burrow. Rough, mangy, brown fur covered the huge misshapen globe
of its body.
Implacably malignant, incredibly ferocious, was the brown hunting
spider, the American tarantula (Mygale Hentzii). Its body was over two
feet in diameter. Its hairy legs, outstretched, would cover a circle three
yards across. Eyes glistening, jaws slavering, it watched Burl.
And Burl strutted at the cliff's edge, puffed up with a sense of
importance. The white snare of the spinning spider below amused him.
He knew the spider would not leave its web to attack. Using his spear,
he shoved a chunk of fungus growing at his feet down the cliffside into
the colossal web. The black bulk of the hidden spider swung out to
investigate. Burl kept pace with it, knocking more lumps of

shelf-fungus loose, and laughing as they narrowly missed the confused,
black-and-silver creature. Then--
The trap door clicked faintly, and Burl whirled. His laughter became a
scream. Approaching with incredible speed, the monster tarantula
opened its dripping jaws. Mandibles gaping wide, poison fangs
unsheathed, the creature was 30 paces away, 20, 10. It leaped into the
air, all eight legs extended to seize!
Still screaming, Burl thrust out his arms to ward off the impact. In his
terror, his grasp on his spear became agonized. The spear point shot out,
and the tarantula fell on it. Nearly a quarter of the spear entered the
body of the ferocious thing.
Transfixed on the spear, the monster writhed nightmarishly, still
struggling to reach Burl, who himself was transfixed with horror.
Mandibles clashed, awful sounds came from the beast. One of the
attenuated, hairy legs rasped across Burl's forearm. He instinctively
stepped backward--off the edge of the cliff.
Down through space, eyes glassy with panic, the two creatures--man
and skewered tarantula--fell together. With a strangely elastic crash and
crackling, they hit the web below.
Burl could be no more fear-struck. Struggling madly in the gummy
coils of an immense web, ever binding him more tightly, with a
wounded creature still striving to reach him with poison fangs--Burl
had reached the limit of panic.
He fought madly to break the coils about him. His arms and breast were
greasy from the oily fish; the sticky web did not adhere to them, but his
legs and body were inextricably fastened by the elastic threads spread
for just such prey as he.
He paused, exhausted. Then he saw, five yards away, the silvery and
black monster waiting patiently for him to tire. It judged the moment
propitious. The tarantula and man were one in its eyes, one struggling
thing that had fallen opportunely into its snare. They moved but feebly

now. The spider advanced delicately, swinging its huge bulk nimbly
along the web, paying out a cable after it, coming inexorably closer.
Burl's arms were free because of the greasy coating they had received.
He waved them wildly, shrieking at the approaching, pitiless monster.
It paused. Those moving arms suggested mandibles that might wound
or slap.
Spiders take few hazards. This one was no exception. Its spinnerets
became busy, and with one of its eight legs, it flung a sheet of gummy
silk impartially over both tarantula and man.
Burl fought the descending shroud, striving vainly to thrust it away.
Within minutes he was covered in a silken cloth that hid even the light
from his eyes. He and his enemy, the giant tarantula, were beneath the
same covering, though the tarantula moved but weakly.
The shower ceased. The web spider had decided they were helpless.
Burl felt the cables of the web give slightly, as the spider approached to
sting and suck the sweet juices from its prey.
Burl froze in an ecstasy of terror, waiting for poison fangs to be thrust
into him. He knew the process, having seen the leisurely way giant
spiders delicately stung their prey, then withdrew to wait patiently for
the venom to take effect.
When their victim ceased to struggle, they drew near again, and sucked
the sweet juices from the body until what was once a creature vibrant
with life became a shrunken, withered husk--to be flung from the web
at nightfall. Most spiders are tidy housekeepers, destroying their snares