Burl's arms were free, because of the greasy coating they had received.
He waved them wildly, shrieking at the pitiless monster that approached.
The spider paused. Those moving arms suggested mandibles that might
wound or slap.
Spiders take few hazards. This spider was no exception to the rule. It
drew cautiously near, then stopped. Its spinnerets became busy, and with
one of its six legs, used like an arm, it flung a sheet of gummy silk
impartially over both the tarantula and the man.
Burl fought against the descending shroud. He strove to thrust it away,
but in vain. In a matter of minutes he was completely covered in a
silken cloth that hid even the light from his eyes. He and his enemy,
the giant tarantula, were beneath the same covering, though the
tarantula moved but weakly.
The shower ceased. The web-spider had decided that they were helpless.
Then Burl felt the cables of the web give slightly, as the spider
approached to sting and suck the sweet juices from its prey.
* * * * *
The web yielded gently as the added weight of the black-bellied spider
approached. Burl froze into stillness under his enveloping covering.
Beneath the same silken shroud the tarantula writhed in agony upon the
point of Burl's spear. It clashed its jaws, shuddering upon the horny
barb.
Burl was quiet in an ecstasy of terror. He waited for the poison-fangs
to be thrust into him. He knew the process. He had seen the leisurely
fashion in which the giant spiders delicately stung their prey, then
withdrew to wait without impatience for the poison to do its work.
When their victim had ceased to struggle, they drew near again, and
sucked the sweet juices from the body, first from one point and then
another, until what had so recently been a creature vibrant with life
became a shrunken, withered husk--to be flung from the web at nightfall.
Most spiders are tidy housekeepers, destroying their snares daily to
spin anew.
The bloated, evil creature moved meditatively about the shining sheet of
silk it had cast over the man and the giant tarantula when they fell
from the cliff above. Now only the tarantula moved feebly. Its body was
outlined by a bulge in the concealing shroud, throbbing faintly as it
still struggled with the spear in its vitals. The irregularly rounded
protuberance offered a point of attack for the web spider. It moved
quickly forward, and stung.
Galvanized into fresh torment by this new agony, the tarantula writhed
in a very hell of pain. Its legs, clustered about the spear still
fastened into its body, struck out purposelessly, in horrible gestures
of delirious suffering. Burl screamed as one of them touched him, and
struggled himself.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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