It came so suddenly upon them that Little Silk Wing, under the touch of that blue-white radiance, stirred uneasily and half unfolded his wings.

The movement caught the great, gleaming eyes of an immense brown hunting spider who chanced at that moment to be prowling down the underside of the roof.

He was one of the kind that does not spin webs, but catches its prey by stealing up and pouncing upon it.
He knew that a little bat, when young enough, was no stronger than a big butterfly, and its blood would be quite good enough to suck.
Stealthily he crept down into the brightness of that narrow ray, wondering whether the youngster was too big for him to tackle or not.
He made up his mind to have a go at it.

In fact, he was just gathering his immense, hairy legs beneath him for that fatal pounce of his, when he was himself pounced upon by a flickering shadow, plucked from his place, paralyzed by a bite through the thorax, and borne off to be devoured at leisure by a big bat which had just come in." "Oh, I see," muttered the Child feelingly.

He was himself a good deal afraid of spiders, and he meant that he understood now why it was less dangerous for little bats to go swinging wildly through the twilight clinging to their mother's necks than to stay at home alone.
But Uncle Andy paid no heed to the interruption.
"On the following night," he continued, "Little Silk Wing and his sister found themselves once more alone in the crevice at the end of the beam.