A patient spider inside a metal pipe
The metal pipe lay at the edge of things, its mouth open to the blurred green of the outdoors, and inside it sat a small furry spider in green and orange. It had tucked itself near the pipe’s mouth, close enough to see out and far enough to stay dry. It was smaller than the Hyllus I had met the day before, but the family resemblance was immediate: the big eyes, the long legs, the way it angled its body to watch me approach.
This is Hyllus qishuoi, a jumping spider of the family Salticidae, order Araneae, and the second individual of the species I came across in Medog. A pipe is a strange place to find a spider, until you remember how much rain falls in this forest. Jumping spiders are daytime hunters, and a pipe or a crack is exactly the sort of retreat they use between bouts of hunting, a safe room with a view of the outside.
Salticids do not build webs to catch food. They hunt with eyes and legs, and males of many species court females with elaborate dances, waving patterned legs and flashing colours in displays that can last minutes. When the dances happen, they are among the most intricate in the spider world, legs raised and waved like flags. In the Hyllus group those displays are a well-known spectacle among spider watchers.
I let it keep its pipe. It had chosen the spot, and it watched me leave with what I choose to believe was approval.
