From the time the egg is first
laid; thus, as the egg itself is not vivified for some weeks
after it is deposited, the spiders have to be preserved in a
sound and fresh state during that interval until the larva is in
such an advanced stage as to require food.
In a tropical country every one knows that a very few hours
occasion the putrefaction of all dead animal substances;
nevertheless these spiders are to be kept fresh and good, like
our tins of preserved meats, to be eaten when required.
One, two, or even three spiders, according to their size, the
mason-fly deposits in each cell, and then closes it hermetically
with clay. The spiders she has pounced upon while sunning
themselves in the centre of their delicate nets, and they are
hurried off in a panic to be converted into preserved provisions.
Each cell being closed, the whole nest is cemented over with a
thick covering of clay. In due time the young family hatch, eat
their allowance of spiders, undergo their torpid change, and
emerge from their clay mansion complete mason-flies.
Every variety of Ichneumon, however (in Ceylon), chooses the
spider as the food for its young. It is not at all uncommon to
find a gun well loaded with spiders, clay and grubs, some
mason-fly having chosen the barrel for his location. A bunch of
keys will invite a settlement of one of the smaller species, who
make its nest in the tube of a key, which it also fills with
minute spiders.
In attacking the spider, the mason-fly his a choice of his
antagonist, and he takes good care to have a preponderance of
weight on his own side. His reason for choosing this in
preference to other insects for a preserved store may be that the
spider is naturally juicy, plump and compact, combining
advantages both for keeping and packing closely.
There are great varieties of spiders in Ceylon, one of which is
of such enormous size as to resemble the Aranea avicularia of
America. This species stands on an area of about three inches,
and never spins a web, but wanders about and lives in holes; his
length of limb, breadth of thorax and powerful jaws give him a
most formidable appearance. There is another species of a
large-sized spider who spins a web of about two and a half feet
in diameter. This is composed of a strong, yellow, silky fibre,
and so powerful is the texture that a moderate-sized walking-cane
thrown into the web will be retained by it. This spider is about
two inches long, the color black, with a large yellow spot upon
the back, and the body nearly free from hair.
Some years ago an experiment was made in France of substituting
the thread of the spider for the silk of the silkworm: several
pairs of stockings and various articles were manufactured with
tolerable success in this new material, but the fibre was
generally considered as too fragile.
A sample of such thread as is spun by the spider described could
not have failed to produce the desired result, as its strength is
so great that it can be wound upon a card without the slightest
care required in the operation. The texture is far more silky
than the fibre commonly produced by spiders, which has more
generally the character of cotton than of silk.
Should this ever be experimented on, a question might arise of
much interest to entomologists, whether a difference in the food
of the spider would affect the quality of the thread, as is well
known to be the case with the common silkworm.
A Ceylon night after a heavy shower of rain is a brilliant sight,
when the whole atmosphere is teeming with moving lights bright as
the stars themselves, waving around the tree-tops in fiery
circles, now threading like distant lamps through the intricate
branches and lighting up the dark recesses of the foliage, then
rushing like a shower of sparks around the glittering boughs.
Myriads of bright fire-flies in these wild dances meet their
destiny, being entangled in opposing spiders' webs, where they
hang like fairy lamps, their own light directing the path of the
destroyer and assisting in their destruction.
There are many varieties of luminous insects in Ceylon. That
which affords the greatest volume of light is a large white grub
about two inches in length, This is a fat, sluggish animal, whose
light is far more brilliant than could be supposed to emanate
from such a form.
The light of a common fire-fly will enable a person to
distinguish the hour on a dial in a dark night, but the glow from
the grub described will render the smallest print so legible that
a page may be read with case. I once tried the experiment of
killing the grub, but the light was not extinguished with life,
and by opening the tail, I squeezed out a quantity of glutinous
fluid, which was so highly phosphorescent that it brilliantly
illumined the page of a book which I had been reading by its
light for a trial.
All phosphorescent substances require friction to produce their
full volume of light; this is exemplified at sea during a calm
tropical night, when the ocean sleeps in utter darkness and
quietude and not a ripple disturbs the broad surface of the
water. Then the prow of the advancing steamer cuts through the
dreary waste of darkness and awakens into fiery life the spray
which dashes from her sides. A broad stream of light illumines
the sea in her wake, and she appears to plough up fire in her
rush through the darkened water.
