the legs, which were short and stout. The nest was so firmly made that, although underground, it was easily lifted out of its place without injury. Indeed, it was no mere silk-lined hole in the ground; it was a regularly built house of clay packed into a tight wall, and hung with curtain of silk. At the bottom of this model residence was a small opening for a waste-pipe, so that no rain should drown the builder within her own doors.
The tarantula of the Pacific slope is of note particularly on account of her enemy, the tarantula hawk, or tarantula-killer. The spider is of large size and no coward. If a stick is poked at her, she does not run; on the contrary, she starts up that stick so promptly that no one less nimble will stay to interview her. The wasp that makes her life a burden is nearly two inches long, with brilliant blue body and orange wings. Like the more humble resident of New Jersey, her sting produces paralysis, and, when she has prepared the burrow in which to deposit the hopes of her family, she invariably starts out after a tarantula to furnish a supply of food for the egg she buries with it. Spiders have been found in this remarkable half-dead state several years after they were buried, still limber and apparently healthy.
Dr Horn, of Philadelphia, describes particularly this strange contest with the wasp. The insect flies round and round in gradually decreasing circles, while the spider stands half erect on her hind legs. Seizing the first favorable chance, the wasp dashes in and delivers a sting, instantly flying away and resuming the circle flight, till she sees another opportunity to strike. Two or three touches are usually enough to subdue the most savage tarantula. But the trouble is often not over for the plucky wasp even then. The battle may be without sound, but it is not without scent. The use of her sting is accompanied by an odor which is quickly recognized by any other wasp-mother in search of a spider. If one chances to strike it, she follows it up on the instant, and, if the spider is not underground, makes a fight for it. So furious is the battle that sometimes both of the combatants are killed.
In the West Indies the trap-door spider is appreciated and respected as a useful servant for its work in killing cockroaches, which, unless checked, would destroy their houses. It is bought, carried to the house, and cherished as we cherish a cat.
Quite the most interesting of this family is the second discovery of Mrs. Treat, which she called at first Tarantula turricula, or turret-building tarantula. Should one in his walks chance to notice a tiny five-sided tower rising out of the ground, elegantly made, of sticks crossed regularly at the corners in log-cabin style, and sometimes decorated with bits of moss, he would never guess that a spider was the architect. Yet such is the work of Mrs.
