if it had been originally there: but having been attacked, the
lion-hearted little warriors scorned the idea of yielding.

Certain wasp-like insects, which construct in the corners
of the verandahs clay cells for their larvae, are very numerous
in the neighbourhood of Rio. These cells they stuff full
of half-dead spiders and caterpillars, which they seem
wonderfully to know how to sting to that degree as to leave
them paralysed but alive, until their eggs are hatched; and
the larvae feed on the horrid mass of powerless, half-killed
victims -- a sight which has been described by an enthusiastic
naturalist [8] as curious and pleasing! I was much interested
one day by watching a deadly contest between a Pepsis and
a large spider of the genus Lycosa. The wasp made a sudden
dash at its prey, and then flew away: the spider was evidently
wounded, for, trying to escape, it rolled down a little
slope, but had still strength sufficient to crawl into a thick
tuft of grass. The wasp soon returned, and seemed surprised
at not immediately finding its victim. It then commenced
as regular a hunt as ever hound did after fox;
making short semicircular casts, and all the time rapidly vibrating
its wings and antennae. The spider, though well
concealed, was soon discovered, and the wasp, evidently still
afraid of its adversary's jaws, after much manoeuvring, inflicted
two stings on the under side of its thorax. At last,
carefully examining with its antennae the now motionless
spider, it proceeded to drag away the body. But I stopped
both tyrant and prey. [9]

The number of spiders, in proportion to other insects, is