Another use to which the webs of spiders are put is that of a parachute, on which the little creature—for small species alone may enjoy this luxury—sails delicately through the air. This, however is not the nearest approach made by any of the tribe to actual flight, though in practice it almost surpasses that power, even as possessed by many winged insects, who do indeed cleave the air, but cannot ride upon it in a filmy chariot, twinkling in the rays of the sun. Still there is one spider that, though it has not yet achieved wings, is in process of developing them. This little semi-Ariel—but the subject will be best done justice to in the glowing language of the Rev. O. P. Cambridge: “Adult male, length rather above two lines. The abdomen is of an elongated oval form, and rather flattened; its upper side is furnished with an epidermis, which is continued, laterally, on either side to an extent considerably exceeding the width of the abdomen, and of a semi-oval or elliptical form; the outer portion of this epidermis, on either side, is capable of being depressed and folded round the abdomen, or elevated and expanded to its full width, after the manner of wings. Mr. H. H. B. Bradley, of Sydney, New South Wales, to whom I am indebted for examples of this exceedingly interesting and remarkable spider, tells me that he has observed them elevating and depressing the flaps, and also actually using them as wings or supporters to sustain the length of their leaps. That this, as with an analogous appendage in the flying squirrel, should be intended for such sustentation one could have but little doubt, after examining it even in the preserved specimens. The three examples were all found on one spot near Sydney, in the month of October, running and jumping on low plants and flowers.”[141] It is delightful to think of a little delicate spider-body like this, rising gracefully from the petal of one flower, expanding its thin, filmy fringes, and descending in a long slanting line through the air, like a flying squirrel or a galeopithecus, onto the petal of another. Even were its appearance no more than elegant, this would be a most pleasing sight. But it is much more than this. Various hues meet in its diminutive body, and so harmonious and pleasing is the general effect produced by them that the first captor of so much loveliness was enraptured as he gazed on his prize, whilst even Mr. Cambridge, with only dried specimens to fire his imagination, yet cannot choose but exclaim: “It is difficult to describe adequately the great beauty of the colouring of this spider.”[141]