Diving Water-Spider.

Though spiders require atmospheric air for respiration, yet one species well known to naturalists is aquatic in its habits, and lives not only upon the surface but below the surface of the water, contriving to carry down with it a sufficiency of air for the support of life during a considerable period of time. Its subaqueous nest is in fact a sort of diving-bell, and constitutes a secure and most ingenious habitation. This spider does not like stagnant water, but prefers low running streams, canals, and ditches, where she may often be seen in the vicinity of London and elsewhere, living in her diving-bell, which shines through the water like a little globe of silver: her singular economy was first, we believe, described by Clerck,[FS] L. M. de Lignac,[FT] and De Geer.

“The shining appearance,” says Clerck, "proceeds either from an inflated globule surrounding the abdomen, or from the space between the body and the water. The spider, when wishing to inhale the air, rises to the surface, with its body still submersed, and only the part containing the spinneret rising just to the surface, when it briskly opens and moves its four teats. A thick coat of hair keeps the water from approaching or wetting the abdomen. It comes up for air about four times an hour or oftener, though I have good reason to suppose it can continue without it for several days together.

"I found in the middle of May one male and ten females, which I put into a glass filled with water, where they lived together very quietly for eight days. I put some duckweed (Lemna) into the glass to afford them shelter, and the females began to stretch diagonal threads in a confused manner from it to the sides of the glass about half-way down. Each of the females afterwards fixed a close bag to the edge of the glass, from which the water was expelled by the air from the spinneret, and thus a cell was formed capable of containing the whole animal. Here they remained quietly, with their abdomens in their cells, and their bodies still plunged in the water; and in a short time brimstone-coloured bags of eggs appeared in each cell, filling it about a fourth part. On the 7th of July several young ones swam out from one of the bags. All this time the old ones had nothing to eat, and yet they never attacked one another as other spiders would have been apt to do."[FU]

“These spiders,” says De Geer, “spin in the water a cell of strong, closely-woven white silk, in the form of half the shell of a pigeon’s egg, or like a diving-bell. This is sometimes left partly above water, but at others is entirely submersed, and is always attached to the objects near it by a great number of irregular threads. It is closed all round, but has a large opening below, which, however, I found closed on the 15th of December, and the spider living quietly within, with her head downwards. I made a rent in this cell, and expelled the air, upon which the spider came out; yet, though she appeared to have been laid up for three months in her winter quarters, she greedily seized upon an insect and sucked it. I also found that the male as well as the female constructs a similar subaqueous cell, and during summer no less than in winter.”[FV] We have recently kept one of these spiders for several months in a glass of water, where it built a cell half under water, in which it laid its eggs.

Cleanliness of Spiders.

When we look at the viscid material with which spiders construct their lines and webs, and at the rough, hairy covering (with a few exceptions) of their bodies, we might conclude that they would be always stuck over with fragments of the minute fibres which they produce. This, indeed, must often happen, did they not take careful precautions to avoid it; for we have observed that they seldom, if ever, leave a thread to float at random, except when they wish to form a bridge. When a spider drops along a line, for instance, in order to ascertain the strength of her web, or the nature of the place below her, she invariably, when she reascends, coils it up into a little ball, and throws it away. Her claws are admirably adapted for this purpose, as well as for walking along the lines, as may be readily seen by a magnifying glass.

Triple-clawed foot of a Spider, magnified.

There are three claws, one of which acts as a thumb, the others being toothed like a comb, for gliding along the lines. This structure, however, unfits it to walk, as flies can do, upon any upright polished surface like glass; although the contrary[FW] is erroneously asserted by the Abbé de la Pluche. Before she can do so, she is obliged to construct a ladder of ropes, as Mr. Blackwell remarks,[FX] by elevating her spinneret as high as she can, and laying down a step upon which she stands to form a second, and so on; as any one may try by placing a spider at the bottom of a very clean wine-glass.