<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV</SPAN></h2>
<p class="center">THE ENEMIES OF SPIDERS</p>
<p><span class="smcap">When</span> one comes to consider the multitudinous
risks to which a spider is exposed during the whole
course of its life it seems at first a little surprising that
the whole tribe has not long ago been exterminated.
Spiders continue to flourish, however, and it is very
clear that however careless Nature may be of the
individual she is extremely solicitous about the
race.</p>
<p>The infant mortality among these creatures must
be appalling. There is first their cannibalistic propensity
to be reckoned with. Newly hatched spiders
while still within the cocoon seldom attack each
other, but as soon as ever each sets up for itself, no
quarter is given. It often happens that members of
a brood of sedentary spiders spin their first snares in
close contiguity, and if food is scarce they eat one
another without compunction. It is said that a few<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</SPAN></span>
individuals of a brood may be reared to maturity on
no other food than their sisters and brothers! The
case of the survivor of the “Nancy Bell” in the Bab
Ballads would be exceedingly commonplace in the
aranead world. We have seen, too, how, on occasion,
<i>Atypus</i> will devour her young if they do not leave
the nest with due expedition. Then if the weather
conditions chance to be unfavourable just at the
period of departure from the cocoon broods are
liable to perish wholesale, washed away and destroyed
by deluges of rain; myriads, too, must be carried out
to sea in the course of their ballooning operations,
and never come safely to land.</p>
<p>But the mortality is probably even greater at a
still earlier stage, for hosts of spiders’ eggs never
hatch at all, and this for two reasons. In the first
place, the silk of spiders is a favourite material
with many birds for the lining of their nests, and
many of them use the cocoons for this purpose.
Secondly, there are numerous Ichneumon flies which
attack and parasitise spiders’ cocoons, piercing them
with their ovipositors and laying their eggs inside.
The eggs of the Ichneumon fly hatch first and feed
upon the eggs of the spider. Two such flies are
known to attack the cocoons of the garden-spider,
and not a single spider will emerge from a cocoon
thus parasitised. The spiders whose cocoons are
most subject to these attacks belong, as might perhaps<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</SPAN></span>
be expected, to the sedentary groups, and the most
elaborate but unavailing precautions are often taken
to render them Ichneumon-proof. The cocoons of
the peripatetic wolf-spiders have never been observed
to be parasitised.</p>
<p>Even if a spider has survived these early perils
there are still many dangers ahead. During its
period of growth it has to moult some eight or nine
times, and the operation is at least as dangerous as,
say, an attack of measles to the human infant. For
some time beforehand feeding ceases, and the animal
becomes inert and apparently dead, but presently the
integument splits, and out struggles the spider, pale
and soft, and leaving behind it not only the outer
skin but the lining of most of its alimentary canal
and of its breathing tubes. Sometimes, as we have
said, it fails to extricate itself and dies; quite often
it emerges with the loss of a limb, which will reappear—reduced
in size—at the next moult. It is
necessary to go into retreat for a time after moulting,
till strength has returned and the integument has
hardened.</p>
<p>But the dangers of moulting, though not negligible,
are insignificant beside others to which the spider is
exposed during its later stages, nor is a prolonged
dearth of food necessarily fatal, for, as we have seen, a
spider can fast for an astonishing time and yet retain
its health if it has a fair supply of water. But there<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</SPAN></span>
are terrible enemies at hand from which it has little
or no protection. Birds, of course, come first, for
to most insectivorous birds spiders are acceptable
morsels. I have seen a hedge sparrow going conscientiously
over a trellis work and picking out all
the spiders from the nooks and corners. Then insectivorous
mammals make no distinction between
the Insecta and the Arachnida, and often eat spiders
with avidity, as also will toads and lizards.</p>
<p>Moreover, Ichneumon flies do not confine their
attention to cocoons, but often attack well-grown
spiders. They invariably lay their eggs on one spot—at
the very front of the abdomen, near the cephalothorax,
where the spider is powerless to dislodge
them. The egg hatches out to a grub which is a
veritable “old man of the sea” on the spider’s back,
and there it remains until it causes the death of its
victim by feeding on the contents of the abdomen.
Four such Ichneumon flies have been found to attack
the garden-spider, and no kind of spider seems
exempt. How they contrive to deposit their eggs in
the proper place without great danger of themselves
falling a prey to their victims is a mystery. To
venture into a garden-spider’s web for the purpose
would seem a fool-hardy proceeding. The actual
deposition of the egg has seldom been witnessed, but
in one of the few cases that have come under
observation the spider made little resistance and<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</SPAN></span>
appeared quite demoralised. It was hanging from
a thread, down which the Ichneumon fly was seen to
crawl. When it reached the spider the latter dropped
an inch lower on two or three occasions but then
remained passive, and the parasite on nearing it,
turned round, backed down the line, and with great
care and deliberation attached an egg at the usual
spot.</p>
<p>But no enemies of spiders are more terrible than
some of the solitary wasps, and gruesome indeed is
the fate of any creature that falls into their clutches.
The social wasps often capture spiders to feed their
young but in their case the proceeding is summary
and without any finesse. They merely catch a spider,
sting it to death, cut it to pieces with their jaws, and
feed it into the mouths of their expectant grubs.
The treatment is brutal enough, but at all events it
is expeditious. Now the solitary “digger” wasps
never see their young. They make cells, either by
burrowing in the ground or by agglomerating particles
of mud or gravel, and in each cell is placed an egg
together with sufficient food to last the grub which
hatches out for the whole of its larval existence.
The mother will not be at hand—as is the social
worker-wasp—to supply new food as required, and it
is therefore necessary so to arrange matters that the
food provided may retain its fresh condition for at
least a fortnight. On the other hand the victims must<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</SPAN></span>
be deprived of all power of motion, otherwise the egg
will stand a great chance of being displaced and
crushed, and even if it hatches it will be unable to
commence its meal upon the struggling spider.</p>
<p>Now in the whole range of animal instinct there
is nothing more remarkable than the manner in which
the solitary wasps have learnt to solve this problem.
The solution lies in so stinging the victim that it is
paralysed but not killed, and though quite unable to
move, it neither shrivels nor decays, but remains
perfectly sound and edible for two or three weeks.
To accomplish this result the wasp acts as though
it possessed a knowledge of the minute anatomy of
its victim, and knew to a hair’s breadth the position
of the principal nerve ganglia which control its
actions. Into these it unerringly thrusts its sting.
But even accuracy of aim is not everything; there
must be the finest discrimination in the severity of
the wound. A slight excess, and the animal is killed;
too timid a thrust will not destroy movement. When
the delicate operation has been successfully performed,
the paralysed spider is dragged into the cell, placed
on its back, and an egg carefully deposited at the
base of its abdomen, after which the cell is sealed up.
Some wasps, instead of providing a single large
spider, store their cells with a number of smaller
victims, all rendered limp and motionless.</p>
<p>In attacking a spider the first action of one of<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</SPAN></span>
these wasps is to remove it from its natural environment.
A garden-spider in its web, or a burrowing
spider in its tunnel are more or less formidable, but
if the one can be thrown down, or the other dragged
forth into the open, they are well-nigh defenceless.
Therefore in attacking an Epeirid the wasp first darts
at it, seizes a leg, and attempts to jerk it out of the
web. If unsuccessful, the spider will now be on its
guard, and the wasp leaves it and tries the same
manœuvre on another individual. Taken by surprise,
it is instantly thrown to the ground, and can then
offer no effectual resistance. Even the large “bird-eaters”
fall victims to these terrible foes.</p>
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