le between two champions
born and bred for fighting, and particularly for fighting each other.
One champion was Eurypelma, the great, black, hairy, eight-legged,
strong-fanged tarantula of California, and the other was Pepsis, a
mighty wasp in dull-blue mail, with rusty-red wings and a poisonous
javelin of a sting that might well frighten either you or me. Do you
have any wasp in your neighborhood of the ferocity and strength and size
of Pepsis? If not, you can hardly realize what a terrible creature she
is. With her strong hard-cased body an inch and a half long, borne on
powerful wings that expand fully three inches, and her long and strong
needle-pointed sting that darts in and out like a flash and is always
full of virulent poison, Pepsis is certainly queen of all the wasp
amazons. But if that is so, no less is Eurypelma greatest, most
dreadful, and fiercest, and hence king, of all the spiders in this
country. In South America and perhaps elsewhere in the tropics, live the
fierce bird-spiders with thick legs extending three inches or more on
each side of their ugly hairy bodies. Eurypelma, the California
tarantula, is not quite so large as that, nor does he stalk, pounce on
and kill little birds as his South American cousin is said to do, but he
is nevertheless a tremendous and fear-inspiring creature among the small
beasties of field and meadow.

But not all Eurypelmas are so ferocious; or at least are not ferocious
all the time. There are individual differences among them. Perhaps it is
a matter of age or health. Anyway, I had a pet tarantula which I kept in
an open jar in my room for several weeks, and I could handle him with
impunity. He would sit gently on my hand, or walk deliberately up my
arm, with his eight, fixed, shining, little reddish eyes staring hard
at me, and his long seven-jointed hairy legs swinging gently and
rhythmically along, without a sign of hesitation or excitement. His hair
was almost gray and perhaps this hoariness and general sedateness
betokened a ripe old age. But his great fangs were unblunted, his supply
of poison undiminished, and his skill in striking and killing his prey
still perfect, as often proved at his feeding times. He is quite the
largest Eurypelma I have ever seen. He measures--for I still have his
body, carefully stuffed, and fastened on a block with legs all spread
out--five inches from tip to tip of opposite legs.

At the same time that I had this hoary old tarantula,