THE TRAP-DOOR IBOBOTI, OR BURROW SPIDER
One day an ashen-gray trap-door spider, while in the dark recesses of
his home, mused as follows: “What great intelligence I have been gifted
with! I can make a burrow, and close its entrance with a door of my own
making, that prevents my enemies from getting in to attack me. When I am
inside, and my door is closed, I feel absolutely safe.”
The spider then thought how cosey and comfortable his home was, and,
looking round, saw many heads, legs, and wings of the insects he had
brought in to consume at his leisure.
This sight reminded him of the numerous feasts he had enjoyed, and of
the tussles he had had before capturing his victims. This recollection
gave him an appetite and a longing for more fights and more meals.
This trap-door spider had strong, short legs, and a head armed with
powerful nippers, between which was his ugly mouth, ready to suck the
life of his prey.
The spider walked to the opening of his burrow to watch. His fierce eyes
turned in every direction. He also listened attentively to all sounds,
for these might either be the forerunner of some unsuspecting creature
coming his way, or the noise of an approaching enemy, and he had many of
these and needed to be wary to escape them. But he neither saw nor heard
anything. He was obliged to return hungry to his hole, and this happened
the next day and the next.
Time went on, and food at last became so scarce that the spider
determined upon leaving his old burrow and going in search of a better
place to build a new home. He accordingly did so. He had to travel very
cautiously, for fear of enemies, for now he had no burrow with a
trap-door to protect him. At the least suspicious sound he hid under a
leaf, the bark of a tree, in some dark corners, or under some root.
After long exploration, he came at last to a place where he thought the
soil was right for digging a burrow, and the neighborhood and ground
seemed to be good for prey.
Having chosen the spot, he began to dig with his forelegs, using his
head at times to help. He worked very hard indeed. After his burrow had
reached a depth of several inches, he stopped, saying, “My abode is now
deep enough.”
He then began his most difficult work. Digging the burrow was nothing
compared with what he had to do now, which was to make an inside casing
throughout the length and breadth of his burrow, to keep the earth from
caving in.
To spin and weave the lining of his burrow was so great a task that it
called for careful thinking, much ingenuity, and great skill. So he went
to work, spun, and interlaced the threads in such a way that the
material, when finished, was a thick and compact mass something like
felt.
When the casing had reached the mouth of the burrow, the iboboti
stopped, for now he had to make the trap-door, a difficult piece of
mechanism. The door had to be round and of exactly the size of the
opening of the burrow, so as to fit closely. To succeed in his task, the
spider had to make no mistake in his measurements.
The top of the door was made fast to the casing by a kind of hinge. When
it was finished, he let it fall to see how it worked. It fitted
perfectly, and was so tight that not even the tiniest ant could get in.
The spider was delighted with his handiwork and the secure home he had
made. “But,” he said to himself, “the door outside must look exactly
like the earth surrounding it.” So he covered the outside of the door
with earth, which stuck to it, making it fast by mixing the earth with
some secretion. After this no creature could tell where the door was.
The spider was very contented, and said: “It will be difficult for my
enemies, as they prowl around, to find where I live; and when my door is
shut, I shall feel safe from those horrid wasps, ants, and my other
enemies,—I hate them all!”
He then raised the trap and made it fast, so that it would not fall
down, and from the opening of his dwelling he watched for prey. His body
could not be seen, as it was hidden by the darkness of the burrow. He
had not been long on the watch when he heard the footsteps of a large
fly walking toward his burrow. His wicked eyes glittered with fierce joy
at the prospect of a meal, and he prepared to attack his unsuspecting
victim, who was moving straight to his doom.
[Illustration: [Spider]]
When the fly came in sight, the spider ran out at full speed toward the
poor creature, seized him with his pincers, dragged him inside of the
burrow, and then devoured his body, except his tiny legs and wings,
which he threw aside, as they had no juice or blood in them.
The fly, however, was not big enough to make him a full meal. He was
still very hungry, and this time he prowled outside, but always
remaining within sight of his burrow, stopping now and then in a good
place of vantage to watch for victims.
Suddenly he heard the noise made by the wings of a wasp that was flying
about, and was himself looking for prey. Seized with fear, the spider
ran to his burrow as fast as his legs could carry him, and, when inside,
closed the door. He had escaped in the nick of time; the wasp, with his
extraordinary powers of vision, had sighted him at once, and came within
an ace of catching him.
The spider, once inside, felt safe and hugged himself, as he said: “How
lucky I am to have escaped with my life from this wicked wasp! They are
always after us poor spiders. How we hate them!
“Several gifts have been given to us trap-door spiders,” he mused, “so
that we can get our living and escape our enemies; but even with all
these we cannot always save ourselves. For our enemies are wary,
cunning, and treacherous, and often get the better of us; fortunately we
have very sharp ears and eyes.”
While the spider was hiding in his burrow for fear of the wasp, it
happened that a fierce, black mogara ant, about one inch long, was also
watching for prey from his own dark burrow.
While waiting, the mogara said to himself: “We mogaras live alone in our
burrows, and though they seem alike to others, they are different, and
each can recognize his own.
“We are brave, and not afraid to attack prey much larger and stronger
than ourselves, for we know the vulnerable parts of those we fight. We
hold our legs to the ground to prevent them from escaping, and our
pincers do the rest. One who is timid gets no prey. Oh, how I should
like a spider for my next meal!”
The mogara watched for a while, but as no prey came in sight, he left
his burrow and prowled around in search of food. He ran across a dead
mogara, and carried it to his burrow and devoured it in the darkness.
But this was not sufficient for him, so he went foraging again, and saw
an ozoni ant. The ozonis were also prowling everywhere for prey. They
are smaller than the mogaras, but are terribly voracious.
This ozoni said: “I am famished, and if I find no prey I must attack one
of my own kind and eat him,” for the ozonis are cannibals, feeding often
on one another. Upon this, looking around, he saw an ozoni smaller than
himself not far off, and he ran after him. The fight was fierce. The
weaker one realized that he was fighting for his life. He succeeded in
escaping from the clutches of his enemy, and ran as fast as he could;
but he had been somewhat disabled in the fight, and was recaptured.
“Oh!” said the victorious ozoni, “you thought you would escape from me,
but you cannot, and now I am going to eat you up!” which he speedily
proceeded to do.
Meanwhile the spider was unaware of what was taking place among the
mogara and ozoni ants, while he was shut up in his burrow. When he
thought the wasp must have got a long way off, he once more raised the
trap-door. Seeing a grasshopper passing by, he attacked the creature
with great fury, and after a stubborn fight carried him into his abode.
Having made an excellent meal of his last victim, and not being hungry
any more, the spider said: “Now I am going to shut my door and have a
good sleep.”
After his sleep, he again opened his door and watched. In the distance
he saw a big mogara ant and also an ozoni ant. They were looking for
prey, and for trap-door spiders. They were going in another direction,
away from the burrow of the spider, who accordingly was not frightened,
but watched until they were out of sight.
“How I hate the ants!” thought the spider, “especially these horrid
mogara and ozoni ants; they are quite as fierce as the wasps, and almost
as dangerous. If we spiders had our own way, we would kill them all.” He
did not reflect that they had to live in the way the spiders did,—that
is, by killing other creatures. The spiders have their own point of view
in regard to wasps, ants, and other enemies; but these latter had also a
different point of view in regard to spiders, and no wonder, for their
interests differ.
Weeks passed away in this round of hunting and sleeping. One day the
spider had gone out of his burrow and was in a good place to watch for
prey. Suddenly there appeared behind him at some distance upon an
eminence three mogara ants that were out foraging. They saw the spider
at once, and made for him, for they were hungry.
They walked as lightly as they could, for fear that their intended
victim would hear them, for they knew how well trap-door spiders can
hear.
Soon the spider was surrounded, and then his enemies attacked him
immediately. One of the mogara ants gave him a fierce bite that laid
open his abdomen and disabled him; the others joined in the fight, which
was soon over, and then they make a good feast of him. Such was the end
of the spider who had, in his time, killed so many insects during his
adventurous life.