I place some Locusts of different species on the webs in my menagerie, one on this, another on that.  The Spider comes rushing up, binds the prey, nibbles at it gently and withdraws, waiting for the bite to take effect.  I then take the insect and carefully strip it of its silken shroud.  The Locust is not dead, far from it; one would even think that he had suffered no harm.  I examine the released prisoner through the lens in vain; I can see no trace of a wound.

Can he be unscathed, in spite of the sort of kiss which I saw given to him just now?  You would be ready to say so, judging by the furious way in which he kicks in my fingers.  Nevertheless, when put on the ground, he walks awkwardly, he seems reluctant to hop.  Perhaps it is a temporary trouble, caused by his terrible excitement in the web.  It looks as though it would soon pass.

I lodge my Locusts in cages, with a lettuce-leaf to console them for their trials; but they will not be comforted.  A day elapses, followed by a second.  Not one of them touches the leaf of salad; their appetite has disappeared.  Their movements become more uncertain, as though hampered by irresistible torpor.  On the second day, they are dead, every one irrecoverably dead.

The Epeira, therefore, does not incontinently kill her prey with her delicate bite; she poisons it so as to produce a gradual weakness, which gives the blood-sucker ample time to drain her victim, without the least risk, before the rigor mortis stops the flow of moisture.

The meal lasts quite twenty-four hours, if the joint be large; and to the very end the butchered insect retains a remnant of life, a favourable condition for the exhausting of the juices.  Once again, we see a skilful method of slaughter, very different from the tactics in use among the expert paralyzers or slayers.  Here there is no display of anatomical science.  Unacquainted with the patient’s structure, the Spider stabs at random.  The virulence of the poison does the rest.

There are, however, some very few cases in which the bite is speedily mortal.  My notes speak of an Angular Epeira grappling with the largest Dragon-fly in my district (AEshna grandis, LIN.).  I myself had entangled in the web this head of big game, which is not often captured by the Epeirae.  The net shakes violently, seems bound to break its moorings.

The Spider rushes from her leafy villa, runs boldly up to the giantess, flings a single bundle of ropes at her and, without further precautions, grips her with her legs, tries to subdue her and then digs her fangs into the Dragon-fly’s back.  The bite is prolonged in such a way as to astonish me.  This is not the perfunctory kiss with which I am already familiar; it is a deep, determined wound.  After striking her blow, the Spider retires to a certain distance and waits for her poison to take effect.