We see how greatly out of place it would be to speak, in this connection, of mother-love and its fond manifestations.
Does the Lycosa at least feed the younglings who, for seven months, swarm upon her back?
Does she invite them to the banquet when she has secured a prize?
I thought so at first; and, anxious to assist at the family repast, I devoted special attention to watching the mothers eat.
As a rule, the prey is consumed out of sight, in the burrow; but sometimes also a meal is taken on the threshold, in the open air.
Besides, it is easy to rear the Lycosa and her family in a wire-gauze cage, with a layer of earth wherein the captive will never dream of sinking a well, such work being out of season.

Everything then happens in the open.
Well, while the mother munches, chews, expresses the juices and swallows, the youngsters do not budge from their camping-ground on her back.

Not one quits its place nor gives a sign of wishing to slip down and join in the meal.

Nor does the mother extend an invitation to them to come and recruit themselves, nor put any broken victuals aside for them.

She feeds and the others look on, or rather remain indifferent to what is happening.