ridans fighting out their quarrel on the
floor. The loser is laid flat upon her back; the victress, belly to
belly with her adversary, clutches her with her legs and prevents her
from moving a limb. Both have their poison-fangs wide open, ready to
bite without yet daring, so mutually formidable are they. After a
certain period of waiting, during which the pair merely exchange
threats, the stronger of the two, the one on top, closes her lethal
engine and grinds the head of the prostrate foe. Then she calmly
devours the deceased by small mouthfuls.

Now what do the youngsters do, while their mother is being eaten?
Easily consoled, heedless of the atrocious scene, they climb on the
conqueror's back and quietly take their places among the lawful family.
The ogress raises no objection, accepts them as her own. She makes a
meal off the mother and adopts the orphans.

Let us add that, for many months yet, until the final emancipation
comes, she will carry them without drawing any distinction between them
and her own young. Henceforth the two families, united in so tragic a
fashion, will form but one. We see how greatly out of place it would be
to speak, in this connection, of mother-love and its fond
manifestations.

Does the Lycosa at least feed the younglings who, for seven months,
swarm upon her back? Does she invite them to the banquet when she has
secured a prize? I thought so at first; and, anxious to assist at the
family repast, I devoted special attention to watching the mothers eat.
As a rule, the prey is consumed out of sight, in the burrow; but
sometimes also a meal is taken on the threshold, in the open air.
Besides, it is easy to rear the Lycosa and her family in a wire-gauze
cage, with a layer of earth wherein the captive will never dream of
sinking a well, such work being out of season. Everything then happens
in the open.

Well, while the mother munches, chews, expresses the juices and
swallows, the youngsters do not budge from their camping-ground on her
back. Not one quits its place nor gives a sign of wishing to slip down
and join in the meal. Nor does the mother extend an invitation to them
to come and recruit themselves, nor put any broken victuals aside for
them. She feeds and the others look on, or rather remain indifferent to
what is happening. Their perfect quiet during the Lycosa's feast points
to the possession of a stomach that knows no cravings.

Then with what are they sustained, during thei