alf a dozen Tarantulae. Perhaps I shall be able to
employ them one after the other in repeated duels. As I return from my
Lycosa-hunt, luck smiles upon me again and crowns my desires. A
second Calicurgus offers herself to my net; she is dragging her heavy,
paralysed Spider by one leg, in the dust of the highway. I attach great
value to my find: the laying of the egg has become a pressing matter;
and the mother, I believe, will accept a substitute for her victim
without much hesitation. Here then are my two captives, each under her
bell-glass with her Tarantula.

I am all eyes. What a tragedy there will be in a moment! I wait,
anxiously... But... but... what is this? Which of the two is the
assailed? Which is the assailant? The characters seem to be inverted.
The Calicurgus, unable to climb up the smooth glass wall, strides round
the ring of the circus. With a proud and rapid gait, her wings and
antennae vibrating, she goes and returns. The Lycosa is soon seen. The
Calicurgus approaches her without the least sign of fear, walks round
her and appears to have the intention of seizing one of her legs. But at
that moment the Tarantula rises almost vertically on her four hinder
legs, with her four front legs lifted and outspread, ready for the
counterstroke. The poison-fangs gape widely; a drop of venom moistens
their tips. The very sight of them makes my flesh creep. In this
terrible attitude, presenting her powerful thorax and the black velvet
of her belly to the enemy, the Spider overawes the Pompilus, who
suddenly turns tail and moves away. The Lycosa then closes her bundle of
poisoned daggers and resumes her natural pose, standing on her eight
legs; but, at the slightest attempt at aggression on the Wasp's part,
she resumes her threatening position.

She does more: suddenly she leaps and flings herself upon the
Calicurgus; swiftly she clasps her and nibbles at her with her fangs.
Without wielding her sting in self-defence, the other disengages
herself and merges unscathed from the angry encounter. Several times in
succession I witness the attack; and nothing serious ever befalls the
Wasp, who swiftly withdraws from the fray and appears to have received
no hurt. She resumes her marching and countermarching no less boldly and
swiftly than before.

Is this Wasp invulnerable, that she thus escapes from the terrible
fangs? Evidently not. A real bite would be fatal to her. Big, sturdily
built Acridians succumb (Locusts and