The Life of the Spider | Page 7

nearest grass, which she ties down with
the straps from her spinnerets, without removing the blades from the
stems; often, also, she rejects this scaffolding in favour of a masonry
constructed of small stones. The nature of the kerb is decided by the
nature of the materials within the Lycosa's reach, in the close
neighbourhood of the building-yard. There is no selection: everything
meets with approval, provided that it be near at hand.
Economy of time, therefore, causes the defensive wall to vary greatly
as regards its constituent elements. The height varies also. One
enclosure is a turret an inch high; another amounts to a mere rim. All
have their parts bound firmly together with silk; and all have the same
width as the subterranean channel, of which they are the extension.
There is here no difference in diameter between the underground manor
and its outwork, nor do we behold, at the opening, the platform which
the turret leaves to give free play to the Italian Tarantula's legs. The
Black-bellied Tarantula's work takes the form of a well surmounted by
its kerb.
When the soil is earthy and homogeneous, the architectural type is free
from obstructions and the Spider's dwelling is a cylindrical tube; but,
when the site is pebbly, the shape is modified according to the
exigencies of the digging. In the second case, the lair is often a rough,
winding cave, at intervals along whose inner wall stick blocks of stone

avoided in the process of excavation. Whether regular or irregular, the
house is plastered to a certain depth with a coat of silk, which prevents
earth-slips and facilitates scaling when a prompt exit is required.
Baglivi, in his unsophisticated Latin, teaches us how to catch the
Tarantula. I became his rusticus insidiator; I waved a spikelet at the
entrance of the burrow to imitate the humming of a Bee and attract the
attention of the Lycosa, who rushes out, thinking that she is capturing a
prey. This method did not succeed with me. The Spider, it is true,
leaves her remote apartments and comes a little way up the vertical
tube to enquire into the sounds at her door; but the wily animal soon
scents a trap; it remains motionless at mid-height and, at the least alarm,
goes down again to the branch gallery, where it is invisible.
Leon Dufour's appears to me a better method if it were only practicable
in the conditions wherein I find myself. To drive a knife quickly into
the ground, across the burrow, so as to cut off the Tarantula's retreat
when she is attracted by the spikelet and standing on the upper floor,
would be a manoeuvre certain of success, if the soil were favourable.
Unfortunately, this is not so in my case: you might as well try to dig a
knife into a block of tufa.
Other stratagems become necessary. Here are two which were
successful: I recommend them to future Tarantula-hunters. I insert into
the burrow, as far down as I can, a stalk with a fleshy spikelet, which
the Spider can bite into. I move and turn and twist my bait. The
Tarantula, when touched by the intruding body, contemplates
self-defence and bites the spikelet. A slight resistance informs my
fingers that the animal has fallen into the trap and seized the tip of the
stalk in its fangs. I draw it to me, slowly, carefully; the Spider hauls
from below, planting her legs against the wall. It comes, it rises. I hide
as best I may, when the Spider enters the perpendicular tunnel: if she
saw me, she would let go the bait and slip down again. I thus bring her,
by degrees, to the orifice. This is the difficult moment. If I continue the
gentle movement, the Spider, feeling herself dragged out of her home,
would at once run back indoors. It is impossible to get the suspicious
animal out by this means. Therefore, when it appears at the level of the

ground, I give a sudden pull. Surprised by this foul play, the Tarantula
has no time to release her hold; gripping the spikelet, she is thrown
some inches away from the burrow. Her capture now becomes an easy
matter. Outside her own house, the Lycosa is timid, as though scared,
and hardly capable of running away. To push her with a straw into a
paper bag is the affair of a second.
It requires some patience to bring the Tarantula who has bitten into the
insidious spikelet to the entrance of the burrow. The following method
is quicker: I procure a supply of live Bumble- bees. I put one into a
little bottle with a mouth just wide enough to cover the opening of the
burrow; and I turn the apparatus thus baited over the