Without any sort of contest, therefore, the Scorpion curves his tail, brings it down in front of his forehead and drives the sting, entirely at his ease, into the victim’s black breast. This is not the instantaneous thrust of the Wasps and the other four-winged fighters: to make the weapon penetrate requires a certain effort. The knotted tail pushes, swaying slightly: it turns the sting to and fro as we twist a pointed tool with our fingers to make it enter a hard substance. When the hole is made, the sting lingers in the wound for a moment, doubtless to allow time for a larger dose of virus to escape. The result is overwhelming. No sooner is the sturdy Lycosa stung than she draws up her legs. She is dead. I have treated myself to this stirring spectacle with half-a-dozen victims. What the first experiment showed me the others repeated. There is always the instant attack by the Scorpion the moment he sees the Lycosa, always the tactics of the tongs holding the enemy at a distance, always the sudden death of the spitted Spider. If I crushed the animal underfoot, the inertia produced would be no more immediate. It is as though the Lycosa had been struck dead by lightning. To eat the vanquished enemy is the rule, all the more inasmuch as the plump Spider is a magnificent prey, such as but rarely falls to the Scorpion’s lot in his usual hunting-grounds. Then and there, without delay, he sits down to his meal, commencing with the head, his customary routine with any sort of game. Motionless, he crunches and swallows, in tiny mouthfuls. Everything is consumed, excepting a few joints of the legs, which are tough morsels. The Gargantuan feast lasts for twenty-four hours. When the banquet is over, we wonder how the dish has managed to disappear into a belly hardly larger than the thing eaten. Those who are exposed to interminable fasts, and are compelled to gorge themselves to excess when the occasion offers, must have special digestive powers. If the Scorpion attacks the Lycosa, who would be capable of making a serious defence were she to rush upon the enemy, instead of proudly standing with her breast uncovered, what will be the fate of the meek Epeiræ? [16] All, even the largest, the Angular, the Banded, and the Silky Epeira, are fiercely attacked, all the more since these poor spinners, demoralized by fear, do not even try to fling their hanks of cord, which so promptly paralyse the assailant. In their webs, with a lavish discharge of snares, they would master the ferocious Mantis, [17] the formidable Hornet, or the big Locust, that expert kicker. Away from their own homes, faced by an enemy and not a victim, they utterly forget their potent methods of binding the foe. When stung, they all instantly succumb, struck dead like the Lycosa; and the Scorpion feasts upon them.