"Probably frightened himself to death. Lots of these low vitality races do that."
"Yet you have seen plenty of tarantulas, Mr. Barrs?" queried Roger, "although you know of no one suffering from their bites."
"Yes, lots of them. Why, the boys often use them for entertainment, sort of a prize-fight business. It is a good betting proposition, for they are inveterate fighters."
"You mean, fight each other?"
"Yes, of course. If you get hold of two tarantulas and put them down on a large sheet of paper, they will try to run away until they catch sight of each other, and then you couldn't make them run. Neither will attempt to escape, but they will crawl close till just about six inches from each other, and will then circle slowly, looking for an opening."
"Sort of sparring for wind," commented the boy.
"That's it. Then, suddenly, one or the other will spring, and either will sink his mandibles in the body of the other, or will meet with a like fate himself. Whichever gets the hold, it is fatal, but I couldn't tell you whether it is due to poison, or just to the strength of the bite."
"It's just like a regular duel," exclaimed Roger in surprise. "I never heard of anything like that."
"And what's more," continued the chief, "I have heard of a man who had a pet tarantula, with which he used to visit places and organize fights, just as people do at a cocking main, but I can't say that I ever saw it done. It may be true, just as the dancing story may be true, but if it were I should have heard of some cases of it."
"But how did the creatures get the reputation?" asked Roger. "Surely there must have been some cause for it."