<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI</SPAN></h2>
<p class="center">THERAPHOSID SPIDERS</p>
<p><span class="smcap">It</span> is quite impossible in a work like the present
to deal with the classification of spiders. About
forty families have been established, some of them of
vast extent, the Attidae, for example, including some
four thousand species. The great French arachnologist,
M. E. Simon, has occupied 2,000 quarto pages
in defining the families, sub-families and genera,
without concerning himself with the species at all!
It is, however, desirable, that the attention of the
reader should be called to the primary division of
the group, according to which all spiders are either
<i>Araneae verae</i> (true spiders) or <i>Araneae theraphosae</i>
(theraphosid spiders.)</p>
<p>Now these two kinds of spider may readily be
distinguished by a single easily observable characteristic,
the nature of the mandibles or <i>chelicerae</i>;
but it is necessary to describe the spider’s mandibles
before the difference can be appreciated.</p>
<p>Their nature is perhaps best explained by saying
that each mandible is not unlike a penknife with<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</SPAN></span>
a single small blade, rather more than half open
when in use, closed when at rest. The handle of the
penknife is certainly in most cases very short and
thick, and the blade not really a blade at all, for
it has no cutting edge, but is a “fang” or piercing
instrument generally somewhat curved, and with
a sharp point. The “blade” is, moreover, perforated
by a tube which comes from the poison-gland, situated
in the thickened “handle,” or in the spider’s head, so
that poison can be forced into the wound which it
inflicts.</p>
<p>Now take two penknives with the blades half open
and hold them so that they hang with the hinge
downward and with the blades directed towards each
other; it is clear that the blades may be made to
pierce an object situated between them by moving
the handles laterally, the object being attacked
simultaneously on either side. This is the arrangement
in the true spiders, whose jaws move sideways,
though they do not always hang perpendicularly,
but are more often somewhat slanted forwards.</p>
<p>To represent the jaws of a theraphosid spider the
penknives must be arranged differently. Place the
handles horizontally and parallel to each other, with
the blades directed downwards and also parallel.
They will now work not sideways, but up and down,
and both fangs will pierce the victim from above. In
a word, the true spiders have jaws which can be<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</SPAN></span>
separated or brought together, and which tend to
meet in the object into which they are plunged, while
the jaws of theraphosid spiders work in parallel
vertical planes, and strike downwards.</p>
<p>All the spiders which have so far concerned us
are <i>Araneae verae</i>, and we have incidentally had
occasion to note some of the principal families of that
division—Epeiridae (or Argiopidae as some prefer
to call them), Theridiidae, Agelenidae, Thomisidae,
Lycosidae and Attidae.</p>
<p>Indeed there is only one theraphosid spider that
there is the least likelihood of our coming across in
this country. Their true home is in hotter climes,
and though stragglers from their army are not rare
in the warmer portions of temperate regions, they
abound only in tropical countries. They include the
“Trap-door” spiders, common in the Mediterranean
region and in many other widely distant parts of the
world, and the great “Bird-eating” spiders of the
tropics—the spiders which are quite wrongly but
universally alluded to in America as Tarantulas.</p>
<p>The single British example is well worth the
study of any reader who is fortunate enough to come
across it. But he must first catch his hare, for
<i>Atypus affinis</i> (or <i>piceus</i> as it used to be called)
does not grow in every hedge-row, nor is it easy to
find it where it does occur. Most of the localities
recorded are in the south of England. It is a thick-set<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</SPAN></span>
dark-coloured spider about half an inch in length,
and with very thick, powerful mandibles, which, as we
have seen, work vertically.</p>
<p>Its nest is a loosely-woven tubular structure, which
partly lines a more or less vertical hole in the ground
and partly lies exposed on the surface, but which does
not present any obvious opening for entrance and
exit.</p>
<p>The situation chosen is generally a sloping sandy
bank covered with vegetation. The burrow is about
eight inches in depth and about three quarters of an
inch in diameter. Near the bottom it narrows and
then expands into a somewhat wider chamber where
the spider lives and constructs its egg-cocoon. The
portion of the tube above the ground is sometimes
longer but more often shorter than the buried portion,
and it tapers to a closed end.</p>
<p>Mr Joshua Brown, who first found this spider near
Hastings in 1856, took home several of the tubes with
the spiders inside. He could find no opening, and
though the spiders moved up and down the tubes
they did not emerge. On tearing a tube open he
found no remains of insects inside, but in one case he
came across a worm, partly within, and partly outside
the lower part of the tube, and apparently partially
devoured by the spider.</p>
<p>The same species is not rare in France and M.
Simon’s observations on it closely agreed with those<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</SPAN></span>
of Mr Brown. He believed that the spider chiefly
depended for its food on earthworms which, in the
course of their burrowings, came casually into its
neighbourhood. Since these observations, however,
considerable light has been thrown on the habits of
the spider by Enock, who found colonies on Hampstead
Heath and near Woking. His investigations
extended over several years, and wonderful patience
was needed before the secrets of this curious animal
were divulged.</p>
<p>It appears that the female, when once established,
never leaves the nest at all! The aerial portion of the
web was always a puzzle, but now we know, thanks
to Enock, that it constitutes the whole hunting ground
of the spider. Like promises and pie-crust it is
apparently made to be broken. If it is accidentally
brushed against by a passing insect the spider is
instantly aware of the fact, rushes to the spot, and
transfixes the intruder with its powerful mandibles.
It turns on its back to do this, and strikes the insect
from behind, afterwards pulling its prey through the
weft and into the tube by main force. It drags it to
the bottom of the tunnel, makes sure of its death, and
immediately returns and repairs the rent.</p>
<p>Insects were held against the tube, and the spider,
if hungry, accepted them at once; if replete however,
it always gave a tug at the tube, which retracted
a portion of it into the burrow—a curious action<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</SPAN></span>
which Enock quite learnt to interpret as the “I don’t
want any more” movement.</p>
<p>The males made nests exactly like the females,
but shallower, and they left them to search for their
mates, leaving the ends open. On finding a female
nest, they “serenaded” by tapping with their palps,
and after some delay, tore open the web and entered.
By and by the female came up and repaired the rent,
first pulling the edges together with her jaws and
then uniting them with silk from her spinnerets. In
one case nothing more was seen of the male for nine
months, when his empty skin was observed at the
end of the tube. After nine months of connubial
bliss his consort had devoured him!</p>
<p>In the autumn and spring, eggs and newly-hatched
young were often found in the nests. Late in March
a small hole, 1/16 inch in diameter, was noticed at the
end of some of the webs, and presently the young
began to emerge—never to return to the nest. They
immediately climbed the highest objects at hand, and
some were seen to be carried off by the breeze.</p>
<p>Enock found, by an ingenious experiment, that
the sand which is incorporated in the aerial part of
the tube—no doubt to render it inconspicuous—is
obtained from within, and not from outside the nest.
Carefully covering the exposed web, he powdered
the ground all round it with red brick-dust, but the
particles which the spider embedded in the web were<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</SPAN></span>
of brown sand, evidently obtained from the bottom
of the burrow and not from the surrounding surface.
But in the case of some newly-dispersed young spiders
he was able to see this operation performed. The
first part of the nest to be made was the aërial
portion, at the foot of which the digging was commenced.
Particles of sand were brought up in the
jaws of the young spider and pushed into the weft
of the tube. Occasionally the jaws were thrust
through the delicate web and particles from without
were seized and <i>pulled</i> into the silken fabric.</p>
<p>It is sad to have to relate that such young spiders
as did not emerge from the web within a reasonable
time were devoured by their unnatural parent. It
sometimes happened that a change of weather rendered
it unsuitable for the departure of the young,
and in this case the mother closed up the exit-hole,
and retired to feed upon her offspring! Thus, though
there were as many as a hundred and forty in a
brood, a good many perished at the outset, and the
ants in the surrounding soil accounted for some of
the rest.</p>
<p>The Atypidae form a small outlying group of the
Theraphosid spiders and are able to live in colder
regions than most of their relatives. The great bulk
of the division belong to the family Aviculariidae.</p>
<p>Some of the Aviculariidae are not unlike Agelena
in their mode of life, spinning a dense sheet-web<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</SPAN></span>
terminating in a tube, and entrapping their prey.
Far the greater number, however, as far as their
habits are known at all, are earth dwellers, either
inhabiting more or less complex burrows of their
own, or sheltering under stones or in chance cavities
by day and emerging at night to seek food in the
immediate neighbourhood of their hiding-places. Some
of them are quite small, but the majority are large
robust spiders, of formidable appearance. The largest
known spider, <i>Theraphosa leblondi</i>, is found in South
America, and its body measures more than three and a
half inches in length. Few spiders have attracted more
attention than the fabricators of the curious “trap-door”
nests, which are common in the Riviera, and
indeed in all the countries bordering the Mediterranean.
But abundant though they are, they are
extremely difficult to find, and it is generally only
by chance that their existence is detected.</p>
<p>The Tarantula occasionally closes the mouth of
her tunnel with a sheet of silk in which are encrusted
the <i>débris</i> of insects or particles of soil. She does
this at the time when she is spinning her cocoon and
any intrusion is particularly inopportune, but she
does it also on other occasions which are not so easily
accounted for. A reason which would naturally occur
to us would be the exclusion of excessive rain or
excessive sunshine, but the facts, unfortunately, do
not accord with this explanation.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>Now, however desirable occasional closure may
be, a permanent door would hamper the tarantula
in her hunting operations, but the habits of the trap-door
spider are different, and she closes her retreat
with a wonderful hinged lid or “trap-door.” And
the commonest form of trap-door is also the most
perfect, being thick and tapering, and fitting accurately
into the bevelled mouth of the tube like
a stopper in the mouth of a bottle. It is made of
alternate layers of spider silk and earth, and is free
for more than half its circumference, the remaining
portion of the surface disc being attached to the side
of the tube by a flexible hinge of silk. Moggridge
dissected the door of a full-sized tunnel into fourteen
graduated discs. The smallest—and of course the
lowest—represented the first door ever made by the
spider, and the successively larger discs indicated
the stages at which its increasing size rendered an
enlargement of the tube—and therefore of the door—necessary.</p>
<p>The spider always interweaves vegetable matter
from the neighbourhood into each new disc, so that,
as a rule, it is entirely indistinguishable from its
surroundings when closed; and not only <i>dead</i>
vegetable matter, for if the tube is situated amongst
moss, moss grows upon the lid. From our previous
experience, however, we shall not be surprised to
find that blind instinct and not forethought is<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</SPAN></span>
responsible for this action. Moggridge removed the lid
of a tunnel and also cleared the ground immediately
round it of all vegetation; nevertheless, when the
spider made a new door, it covered it with moss taken
from the undisturbed vegetation beyond, so that the
trap-door was now conspicuous as a green oasis in a
sandy desert! And on another occasion a spider
interwove fragments of scarlet fabric left purposely
at hand into the lid of its tunnel. It is clear, therefore,
that the decoration of the door is due to an
instinct which impels the spider to utilise any
material of the neighbourhood without any regard
to the effect produced.</p>
<p>The tube is densely lined with silk, which affords
its architect a secure foot-hold, and if any enemy
attempts to open the lid from without, the spider
resists with all its strength—which is not inconsiderable—clinging
on to its under surface with its
front legs and jaws, while the claws of its other feet
grasp the silken walls of the tube.</p>
<p>The other type of trap-door is less interesting and
much more elementary, consisting simply of a wafer-like
sheet of silk mixed with earth and vegetable
matter, but it is a curious fact that while all known
trap-door nests of the cork type are simple tubes,
the burrows with wafer doors are often much more
complex. In some cases there is a branch tube, like
that constructed by <i>Lycosa picta</i>, leaving the main<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</SPAN></span>
tunnel at a depth of some three inches, and reaching
the surface perhaps two inches away from the trap-door,
so that the whole excavation is <b>Y</b>-shaped. This
branch tube is permanently closed by a thin sheet
of silk and earth, which, however, it would not be
difficult to break through if it were urgent for the
spider to escape while the enemy was exploring the
main tunnel.</p>
<p>But a more interesting case is the occurrence of
another trap-door some way down the tube. If the
tube is unbranched, this forms merely a second
line of defence if the outer door is forced, but in the
case of a branched tube the additional door hangs at
the fork of the <b>Y</b>, and is so shaped as to form a
perfect valve, so that the spider, by holding it against
one or the other side of the tunnel, can connect the
bottom limb of the <b>Y</b> with either fork at will, leaving
to the intruder a beautifully smooth-lined tube to
explore, with no hint of the possibility of escape in
other directions.</p>
<p>There are sometimes other complications in the
ramification of the tube, but these need not detain
us. Each species of spider adheres to its own
particular type of architecture, and may safely—in
a given neighbourhood—be identified by its nest.</p>
<p>As with the Lycosidae, the burrowing is all done
by the mandibles, but here the first joint—the handle
of the penknife—is of more importance than the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</SPAN></span>
blade or fang. Indeed the burrowing species of the
Aviculariidae may be distinguished from the rest by
their mandibles, which are provided in front with a
<i>rastellum</i>, or row of teeth for digging. A trap-door
spider, then, does not go to work like a rabbit, or a
terrier, scratching and kicking away the earth as it
digs; it laboriously dislodges particles of soil with
its powerful mandibles, and carries away the loosened
fragments to deposit them at a distance.</p>
<p>The trap-door spiders of the Mediterranean region
are nocturnal creatures, and little is known of their
habits. Erber relates that a species found in the
island of Tinos comes out at night, fixes open the
trap-door with a few threads, and spins a web near
its nest to entrap passing insects, clearing away any
trace of it before the dawn. In the case of some
Chinese and also some Australian species observers
allege that they frequently wander from their nests
in the day-time.</p>
<p>A Californian species was able to leave its nest
when the trap-door was weighted with three ounces
of lead. On re-entering, it seized the edge of the
door with its mandibles, and, raising it slightly,
inserted its front legs. It then turned round and
slipped backwards into the tube. It always resisted
the forcible opening of its door to the last moment,
when it let go and slid into the tube “as though
going down a well.”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>The larger Aviculariidae have acquired a reputation
for feeding on birds, and this has given rise both
to their scientific and their popular name—bird-eating
spiders. Several travellers have stated that they
have observed them with birds in their grasp, and
there is no doubt of their ability to kill any small
bird or mammal, though it is probable that they
seldom have the opportunity, for they spin no snare
in which birds may be caught. Even without the aid
of their poison, their jaws are so large and powerful
that they may easily attain the vital organs of small
animals. Probably their staple food consists of the
larger insects.</p>
<p>They live in holes in the ground or in trees, or
sometimes in the fork of a tree-branch. In such
hiding places they spend the hours of day-light,
emerging at night in search of food. Their large size
and uncanny appearance have attracted the attention
of the collector, and a great many species are known,
but the fact that they chiefly inhabit tropical
countries has militated against any very extended
study of their habits, and the few items of information
we possess are best related with regard to the
particular spider observed, and not taken as necessarily
characteristic of the whole tribe. There is
little doubt that they live for several years. McCook
kept a specimen of <i>Dugesiella hentzi</i> in captivity
for five and a half years, and he considered that<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</SPAN></span>
when it reached him it was at least a year and a
half old, and probably more. The same species
has recently been made the subject of some very
interesting observations by Petrunkewitch, who
obtained numerous living specimens from Texas and
kept them in captivity; unless carefully packed, they
bore the railway journey badly, and it was above all
things necessary to supply them with water.</p>
<p>The captives were fed on grass-hoppers, crickets,
cockroaches and wolf-spiders, but they ate sparingly,
one grass-hopper sufficing for three days in the
summer, while in the winter hardly any food at all
was taken.</p>
<p>The sense of touch is extremely well developed
in these spiders, but in sight, hearing and smell they
are strangely deficient. No response whatever, was
obtained to either high or low notes. A cricket sang
for hours quite close to a spider which had been kept
hungry for several days, without attracting any
attention. It is very remarkable, by the way, that
insects show no instinctive dread of these formidable
creatures, not attempting to keep at a distance, and
indeed frequently running over them in trying to
find a way out of the cage. Nor do the spiders seem
to be at all guided by smell; they evince no knowledge
of the presence of insects which emit a strong
odour, nor do they react to such tests as those to
which the garden-spider was subjected unless strong<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</SPAN></span>
irritants such as chlorine are employed, in the
perception of which it is perhaps unnecessary that
smell in the strict sense should take any part.</p>
<p>They have eight eyes—two of them round and
rather business-like in appearance, and the others
oval or pear-shaped—and they are very sensitive to
light, retreating at once from the direct rays of the
sun or from a light flashed on them, but they do not
appear to <i>see</i> anything at all, recognising neither
friends nor enemies by sight, however close at hand.
It was far otherwise with a wolf-spider in the same
cage. Running towards the Dugesiella it was clearly
aware of it at a distance of several inches, and could
not be persuaded to approach nearer. But the
supremacy of the sense of touch is most striking
when the spiders are courting. When the male is
seeking the female he seems quite unaware of her
proximity unless he accidentally brushes up against
her. If he loses contact for a moment he is quite at
sea and wanders blindly about, turning, perhaps, to
the left when the least motion to the right would
bring them together again. This frequently happens
when he has accidentally touched the female with one
of the hind legs. He immediately turns about, and
if she is still there, all is well, but if she has chanced
to move out of reach, he is quite at a loss. Neither
sight nor sound nor smell guide him, but touch
only. The delicacy of this sense, however, is quite<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</SPAN></span>
remarkable. He seems to be aware at once of the
nature of the object which touches him, assuming
a threatening attitude if the touch is hostile, or
pouncing instantly if hungry and the touch is that of
a passing insect. If, however, the insect is lucky
enough to escape, it is in no danger of pursuit.</p>
<p>As in the case of many spiders—though by no
means of all—his courting is not unattended with
peril. The tragic fate which sometimes overtakes
the male spider has so hit the popular imagination
that there is a general impression that the female
spider is a confirmed misanthrope and desires the life
of any suitor bold enough to approach her. Not at
all! We have simply to remember that spiders are
carnivorous and prone to cannibalism. If the female
happens to be hungry she makes no nice discrimination
between an amorous male and a succulent grass-hopper;
if replete, she may find time for the play of
softer emotions. The male of <i>D. hentzi</i> appears to
be more or less prepared for a hostile reception on
the part of the female, for the thighs of his front legs
are furnished with spurs at their extremity and with
these he holds back and renders powerless her
threatening fangs.</p>
<p>There is no doubt that the spider’s delicate sense
of touch resides in the hairs with which both body
and limbs are thickly clothed. They are of various
kinds—fine hairs, bristles, and stout spines—and<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</SPAN></span>
many of them are supplied with nerve-fibres at the
base. The finer hairs are probably not sensory, and
they are, in the case of some Avicularid spiders very
easily shed, and have a strongly irritant action on the
hand that touches them, not unlike the sting of a nettle.</p>
<p>It is not at all unusual for one large Avicularid
spider, <i>Psalmopoeus cambridgii</i>, to be brought over
to England in cases of bananas from the W. Indies.
Mr James Adams of Dunfermline has kept two
specimens alive for a considerable time. The first
specimen lived in captivity for two years and nine
months, during which it moulted five times but
grew very little in size. Arriving in September, it
was at first fed on flies, and in a few weeks, when
these began to fail, it accepted beetles, consuming
about three a day. In November, even these insects
were difficult to obtain, and recourse was had to
cockroaches. At first about three cockroaches a
week were eaten but the number decreased until, in
the middle of March it ceased feeding altogether,
and on April 13 it cast its skin. It moulted
again in October, and twice a year for the rest of its
life—in spring and autumn. During six months it
took no food at all, and very little for four months
previously. At the last moult but one it lost a limb,
which however, reappeared when the spider again
changed its skin, though it never attained the proper
size.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>With spiders, as with insects, moulting is a very
serious matter, involving much more than the mere
casting off of an external coat. If all does not go
well limbs may easily be lost in the operation, nor is
it rare to meet with instances in which the animal has
perished in its unsuccessful attempt to discard the
old integument.</p>
<p>Mr Adams’ second specimen was kept alive for
three years and ten months. It moulted only once
each year—in June or July—and it died in the act
of casting its skin. In the case of these spiders,
also, it was noted that insects supplied to them as
food displayed no fear whatever. There were always
a few cockroaches in the same box, and they were
often observed actually with the spider in its nest,
but no notice was taken of them unless their host
chanced to be hungry. A photograph of this spider
is given in the Frontispiece.</p>
<p>It is an interesting fact that many of the Aviculariidae
of Southern Asia and Australia possess a
sound-producing apparatus which is entirely lacking
in African and American forms, but this is a subject
which deserves a chapter to itself.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</SPAN></span></p>
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