the unseen warbler that so often followed me in my rambles.

It was an exceedingly bright day, without cloud, but windy, and
finding myself in a rather open part of the wood, near its
border, where the breeze could be felt, I sat down to rest on the
lower part of a large branch, which was half broken, but still
remained attached to the trunk of the tree, while resting its
terminal twigs on the ground. Just before me, where I sat, grew
a low, wide-spreading plant, covered with broad, round, polished
leaves; and the roundness, stiffness, and perfectly horizontal
position of the upper leaves made them look like a collection of
small platforms or round table-tops placed nearly on a level.
Through the leaves, to the height of a foot or more above them, a
slender dead stem protruded, and from a twig at its summit
depended a broken spider's web. A minute dead leaf had become
attached to one of the loose threads and threw its small but
distinct shadow on the platform leaves below; and as it trembled
and swayed in the current of air, the black spot trembled with it
or flew swiftly over the bright green surfaces, and was seldom at
rest. Now, as I sat looking down on the leaves and the small
dancing shadow, scarcely thinking of what I was looking at, I
noticed a small spider, with a flat body and short legs, creep
cautiously out on to the upper surface of a leaf. Its pale red
colour barred with velvet black first drew my attention to it,
for it was beautiful to the eye; and presently I discovered that
this was no web-spinning, sedentary spider, but a wandering
hunter, that captured its prey, like a cat, by stealing on it
concealed and making a rush or spring at the last. The moving
shadow had attracted it and, as the sequel showed, was mistaken
for a fly running about over the leaves and flitting from leaf to