"The effect of each jerk is to compress the boat. Left to itself the boat tends to resume its original shape, but the resistance to the motion through the water of the stern is much greater than that of the bow, hence, on the whole, the motion is forwards. I am told that in still water a pace of two or three miles an hour can be thus attained."
HOW A SPIDER LIFTED A SNAKE
ne of the most interesting books in natural history is a work on "Insect Architecture," by Rennie. But if the architecture of insect homes is wonderful, the engineering displayed by these creatures is equally marvellous. Long before man had thought of the saw, the saw-fly had used the same tool, made after the same fashion, and used in the same way for the purpose of making slits in the branches of trees so that she might have a secure place in which to deposit her eggs. The carpenter bee, with only the tools which nature has given her, cuts a round hole, the full diameter of her body, through thick boards, and so makes a tunnel by which she can have a safe retreat, in which to rear her young. The tumble-bug, without derrick or machinery, rolls over large masses of dirt many times her own weight, and the sexton beetle will, in a few hours, bury beneath the ground the carcass of a comparatively large animal. All these feats require a degree of instinct which in a reasoning creature would be called engineering skill, but none of them are as wonderful as the feats performed by the spider. This extraordinary little animal has the faculty of propelling her threads directly against the wind, and by means of her slender cords she can haul up and suspend bodies which are many times her own weight.
Some years ago a paragraph went the rounds of the papers in which it was said that a spider had suspended an unfortunate mouse, raising it up from the ground, and leaving it to perish miserably between heaven and earth. Would-be philosophers made great fun of this statement, and ridiculed it unmercifully. I know not how true it was, but I know that it might have been true.
Some years ago, in the village of Havana, in the State of New York, a spider entangled a milk-snake in her threads, and actually raised it some distance from the ground, and this, too, in spite of the struggles of the reptile, which was alive.
By what process of engineering did the comparatively small and feeble insect succeed in overcoming and lifting up by mechanical means, the mouse or the snake? The solution is easy enough if we only give the question a little thought.
The spider is furnished with one of the most efficient mechanical implements known to engineers, viz., a strong elastic thread. That the thread is strong is well known. Indeed, there are few substances that will support a greater strain than the silk of the silkworm, or the spider; careful experiment having shown that for equal sizes the strength of these fibers exceeds that of common iron. But notwithstanding its strength, the spider's thread alone would be useless as a mechanical power if it were not for its elasticity. The spider has no blocks or pulleys, and, therefore, it cannot cause the thread to divide up and run in different directions, but the elasticity of the thread more than makes up for this, and renders possible the lifting of an animal much heavier than a mouse or a snake. This may require a little explanation.