reasonably be expected from the eminently earthly habits of the
Lycosae; all ascend the dome, a strange procedure whereof I do not yet
guess the object.
I receive a hint from the upright ring that finishes the top of the cage.
The youngsters hurry to it. It represents the porch of their gymnasium.
They hang out threads across the opening; they stretch others from the
ring to the nearest points of the trellis-work. On these foot-bridges,
they perform slack-rope exercises amid endless comings and goings. The
tiny legs open out from time to time and straddle as though to reach the
most distant points. I begin to realize that they are acrobats aiming at
loftier heights than those of the dome.
I top the trellis with a branch that doubles the attainable height. The
bustling crowd hastily scrambles up it, reaches the tip of the topmost
twigs and thence sends out threads that attach themselves to every
surrounding object. These form so many suspension-bridges; and my
beasties nimbly run along them, incessantly passing to and fro. One
would say that they wished to climb higher still. I will endeavour to
satisfy their desires.
I take a nine-foot reed, with tiny branches spreading right up to the
top, and place it above the cage. The little Lycosae clamber to the very
summit. Here, longer threads are produced from the rope-yard and are now
left to float, anon converted into bridges by the mere contact of the
free end with the neighbouring supports. The rope-dancers embark upon
them and form garlands which the least breath of air swings daintily. The
thread is invisible when it does not come between the eyes and the sun;
and the whole suggests rows of Gnats dancing an aerial ballet.
Then, suddenly, teased by the air-currents, the delicate mooring breaks
and flies through space. Behold the emigrants off and away, clinging to
their thread. If the wind be favourable, they can land at great
distances. Their departure is thus continued for a week or two, in bands
more or less numerous, according to the temperature and the brightness of
the day. If the sky be overcast, none dreams of leaving. The travellers
need the kisses of the sun, which give energy and vigour.
At last, the whole family has disappeared, carried afar by its flying-
ropes. The mother remains alone. The loss of her offspring hardly seems
to distress her. She retains her usual colour and plumpness, which is a
sign that the maternal exertions
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