It was a warm day in mid-spring and a large rather unlikable spider sat
the doorway of his web. It was a large web which was thickly spun and spread
widely over the garden foliage. The web was sprinkled with dew in the early
morning sunlight which quickly evaporated. The spider had caught many flies
foolish enough to get entangled into the web, and other insect unaware of the
danger of the spider’s trap.
The spider himself was indeed an ugly
creature through the design of nature and no fault of his own. His hairy legs,
all eight of them, rose from the side of his abdomen and his face was forked
with fangs ready to plunge into the body of his prey. His abdomen was swollen
from the daily diet of unlucky captives and he sat there at the door of his web
with a feeling of contentment and self-satisfaction.
The spider had often boated to his fellow
spiders that he was king of the garden. After several hours at
With a quick grab the mantis was able to
grasp the unsuspecting spider in the clutch of his claws and glared at the
spider which was now fully awake.
“Ah, ha!” said the mantis, “What a fine
meal you shall make to satisfy my appetite!”
The spider which had always been so
boastful was now truly frightened.
“Please, let me go! Other garden insects
are far more delicious and I have a bitter taste!”
“No,” said the mantis, “I have often
heard of your proud and arrogant boast that you are King of the Garden, but I shall
prove to you that it is I who has supreme power.”
The spider realized that the mantis was
as proud as he was arrogant, continued, “But, yes, of course, how foolish I was
to think that I was king. It is you who are great and I am only your servant.”
The mantis had never heard such praise
before and was quite flattered, “Do you really mean that?”
“Why yes,” said the spider. “It is you who
tower over all the insects and walk proudly on your hind legs. It is you who
can bring fear into any creature with your fearsome jaw and powerful mandibles.
I am not even worthy to walk in your shadow.”
At this point the mantis was gloating in
his conceit, “Yes, how wisely you have said all these things. But to prove my
greatness I will still kill you and rid my garden of you.”
“No, wait. Before you kill me, and I am
truly worth of death, let me weave for you a mantle of the finest web that I
can produce. Instead of a web to capture insects I
will weave a regal robe to honor you as king. I
shall weave it by moonlight and make it sturdy and strong and you will be able
to wear it in your garden and show to all the king
that you really are.”
The mantis was much honored by the selfless
gift and token of sacrifice and his hard heart melted for just a moment.
“Alright, then I will give you only three
days to weave for me a kingly robe, one that I can wear in my garden for all to
stare and wonder at.”
And with this he released the spider and
said, “I shall return in three days to claim my robe. I it is not ready then I
will capture you again and kill you.”
The days passed and the spider set himself
busy to weave a mantle worthy of a king. He had spun a web before but never a
garment and yet from the abdomen of his body a thread as strong as silk emerged
and was fashioned into a robe with a long flowing train. The spider shaped it
and lined it and gave it a collar. With colors taken from nature he was able to
dye it so that it reflected the colors of the rainbow. At night the moon shone
upon it. At daytime the early morning dew clung to it and washed it as though
it were to be baptized for the sacred ritual of a king.
By
the end of the third day it was finished and the spider hung it in a vine
overlooking the web and waited patiently for the mantis to appear.
By mid-day there was the rustling sound
of leaves being pushed aside as the mantis approached the spider’s web.
Finally, he stood at the edge of the web and glared down at the spider.
“Well,” he demanded, “have you woven me my
kingly robe?”
“Indeed, I have,” responded the spider
through jaws clenched and frightened. “It is finer than any web I have created
and is worthy of a king to rule over his kingdom.”
“Then let me see it,” the mantis demanded
and with that the spider pointed to the woven robe which lay hanging on a vine
near the web. The rays of the sun danced on its weave and its colors made of
the pigments of nature reflected the arc of a rainbow that glistened in the sky
after a rainfall.
“I want to wear it,” said the mantis and
with this he slipped his arms into the sleeves of the robe and the fit was
perfect.
“How regal I look in this robe,” the
mantis declared as he swung around so that the robe embraced him with great
fervor. The fit was perfect and was made as though for a king. But, suddenly
the mantis realized that the robe was slowly tightening about him as though the
heat from his own body was commanding it to cling to him with a deathly
embrace. The robe grew tighter and tighter and the heat from the threads of the
web was more than he could bear.
“How can I take off this royal robe?” the
mantis demanded and cried.
“Oh, my king,” gloated the spider through
his hideous fangs dripping with saliva. “You are my royal highness,. The robe is such a perfect fit!’
The mantis began to writhe beneath the robe
as it grew tighter and tighter. “Please,” he cried. “Take this off me! Please
take this off me!”
The spider drew closer to the mantis and
placed his fangs closer to the mantis’ throat. “Your majesty, may I bless you
with a regal kiss?” having said this the spider pierced the abdominal flesh of
the mantis and the poison from that kiss seeped into the body of the creature
who had designated himself as king.
The mantis slowly began to cease to
struggle. He no longer fought the robe woven from web and a misty veil covered
his eyes as the glory of the world faded fro his eyes and he succumbed to a
power greater than himself.
The spider lost not a moment and began to
dine on the largest prey he had ever captured. He dug in with a savage appetite
and devoured the flesh of the mantis never for once ever questioning who was
king of the garden. An hour passed and the spider was fully satisfied. A
hideous grin spread across his jaws; the grin of conceit and pride; a sardonic
grin of satisfaction.
Night descended on the garden and the
spider lay sated on his web with the skeletal remains of the mantis resting
nearby.
From a branch above the web a small green
garden lizard appeared. He approached the web so silently and so carefully with
the colors of his hide so well camouflaged among the garden foliage. He looked
down on both the spider and the mantis which lay beneath him motionless.
The lizard neither thought of himself as a
prince or a king, but part of the garden from which he received the nourishment
to provide for his own existence.
With the steady aim of a sharpshooter, he
flicked out his tongue which struck with the swiftness empowered by nature for
survival. In an instant the spider was gone. A few seconds later he struck out
again, a second time, and the remains of the mantis were taken into his mouth
and devoured in short hungry gulps.
He sat for a while quietly on the leaf and
gazed dreamily into the sky. The moon was still full and lit up the garden
teaming with life, each creature part of a chain fighting for survival.
Moments passed and the lizard remained
motionless while the moon stood still and slowly began disappearing into the
clouds.