I have one. I caught her unexpectedly on the flowers. The next day, I lay in a stock of half-a-dozen Tarantulas. Perhaps I shall be able to use them one after the other, in repeated duels. On my return from my expedition in search of Lycosæ, chance smiles upon me again and gratifies my desires to the full. A second Calicurgus presents herself before my net: she is dragging her heavy, paralyzed Arachnid by the leg, in the dust of the high-road. I set great store by my find: there is an urgency about laying the egg; and I believe that the mother will accept an exchange without much hesitation. So behold my two captives, each under a glass bell with her Tarantula. I am all eyes. What a drama I may expect, in a moment! I wait, anxiously.... But ... but ... what is this? Which of the two is the attacker? Which of the two the attacked? The characters seem inverted. The Calicurgus, unfit for climbing up the smooth walls of the bell, strides along the outer circumference of the arena. With proud, swift gait and quivering wings and antennæ, she comes and goes. She soon sets eyes upon the Lycosa, marches up to her without the least sign of fear, turns around her and seems about to seize one of her legs. But, at that moment, the Tarantula rises almost perpendicularly, using her four hind-legs to stand upon and her four front-legs erect, outspread, ready to thrust and parry. The poison-fangs yawn wide: a drop of venom hangs from their point. The mere sight of them makes my flesh creep. In this terrible attitude, presenting her powerful chest and the black velvet of her belly to her enemy, the Arachnid overawes the Pompilus, who abruptly turns to the right-about and retreats. The Lycosa then closes her case of poisoned daggers and returns to her natural position, standing on her eight legs; but, at the least aggressive movement on the part of the Hymenopteron, she resumes her threatening posture. Nay, she does better: suddenly, she leaps and flings herself upon the Calicurgus, grapples with her nimbly and gnaws her with her fangs. The other, without replying with her sting, releases herself and emerges unscathed from the fierce encounter. Time after time, I witness the attack; and nothing serious ever happens to the Hymenopteron, who quickly extricates herself and seems to have felt nothing. Her manœuvres are resumed as boldly and swiftly as at the start.