©The British Tarantula Society Study Group
Araña Pollita: The Hunt for the Chicken Spider

 

Martin R. Nicholas

 

Foreword

 

Born in Berkshire in 1968, Martin Nicholas lives an untidy bachelor existence with a few hundred spiders and a bearded dragon called Bruce. He has been studying and collecting spiders for over 10 years and has led research trips to Central Turkey, Africa, the Southern United States and the Amazon basin. When he is not being a Sales & Marketing Executive for an Engineering company, his spare time is used giving lectures and workshops on spiders to schools, colleges and wildlife societies. A forthcoming expedition to Central Kalimantan on the Island of Borneo Martin’s next project and promises to be the most ambitious and hazardous yet ­watch this space.

 John Hancock

 

Preface

 

The hunt for the chicken spider started as an idea over an excellent glass of Single Malt Scotch, Christmas 1995. My previous endeavours at searching for spiders in Africa and the Middle East have been solitary affairs and this was the first time I decided I needed an extra pair of eyes and hands.

 

I could not have asked for a better set of either in my research partner and fellow spider-nut, Tessa Augood.

 

My thanks also go to the staff and resident scientists of the Explorers’ Inn including the unnecessarily gorgeous and wonderful Kate, Emily, Michelle, Jo and Margo and the less gorgeous but equally wonderful Phil and Darren.

 

Finally, to the one that got away, Linsay Hahn, who had to unfortunately drop out of the expedition at the last minute.

 

Chapter 1

 

In the desolate northern extremity of the Atacama Desert in Southern Peru, quite close to the Pan-American Highway, you notice deep furrows carved into the hard ground. At ground level these seem just a series of long ditches which curve in abstract directions across the desert.

 

Board the small light airplane, which takes off from near the coast and fly over this area, however and you see shapes emerge from the red-brown sand. A monkey with a long curling tale, a curious representation of a condor, a long slender lizard and a gigantic spider - 100 meters across.

 

These are the Nazca lines, constructed around 300 BC by the long-lost Paraca and Nazca cultures who vanished into the deserts around 1200 years ago, and were only rediscovered at the beginning of this century. Why they were made and what they mean is one of the great mysteries of archaeology. Theories range from their use as ceremonial walkways linking the huancas or places of worship to extra-terrestrial landing sites!  The truth may never be known but the stylised representations of the animals including the giant spider re-occur in many forms on Nazca and Paraca ceramics and fetishes.  Strangely, many of the animals, which occur in the lines, are only found in the rainforests on the other side of the Andes. The thick-legged spider may easily be interpreted as a tarantula but the species of inspiration and its place, good or evil, within the culture can only be guessed at.

 

I remembered reading about the Nazca lines some time ago and they were jogged back into my memory when I read a Christmas card and letter from my good friend Toshi Matsufuji from Peru. I had asked him if he could photograph some of the indigenous spiders of the mountains and cloud forests of his country while he carried out his work (he is an electrical engineer). He very kindly sent me some nice photographs of some large Lycosa sp. wolf spiders and a rather mangy looking Lasiodorides striatus (striped birdeater), posing next to a cassette box to give it scale.

 

Nice but nothing I had not seen before. It was what he wrote in his letter that caught my attention.

 

Toshi spoke of his visit to Madres de Dios province of Peru, close to the border with Bolivia. During a stay at a small jungle town he had got talking to a local native farmer who had come into town for supplies. The farmer spoke in an aggrieved tone about how his stock of chickens was falling and there was nothing he could do about it. My friend asked him what the cause was - jungle cats?, snakes? “No senor, su el arana pollita” was the reply.

 

I continued reading. The farmer lived on the banks of the Tambopata river and grew cash crops such as bananas, yucca and mangoes by the, sadly widespread, “slash and burn” method of farming, where an area of rainforest is cut down and set fire to. This releases nitrogen nutrients from the vegetation into the soil and makes it suitable to grow crops. The nutrients last for only 3-4 years of farming after which the farmer moves on to the next patch of forest and the process continues.

 

To supplement his diet the farmer also kept a stock of chickens for eggs and meat. These were held in a loose wire enclosure in one of the cleared areas near his bamboo hut. He noticed that some of his stock of chickens had begun to go missing, usually the young chicks, and one night discovered the culprit. Returning late he was stunned by the sight of a small chicken apparently “crawling” across the clearing away from the chicken run and towards the forest.

 

On closer inspection this was not a chicken “pining for the fiords”, but was being dragged bodily back to the forest by an enormous spider.

 

The spider, I am told, was swiftly dispatched with a Monty Pythonesque boot, but it got me thinking. As with Chinese whispers, stories get distorted, exaggerated and may even have a basis in nothing more than rural myth. So I decided to do some research on my “chicken spider”. The first reference I found was in Paul Hillyard’s excellent book “The Book of the Spider”. Quoting a Mr. Chisolm of Queensland, Australia, he writes of a barking spider (Selenocosmia sp.):

 

The tracks showed that it (the chicken) had been dragged. Following up we found the chicken 50-ft (16m) away. When one of my people took hold of it there was tugging resistance. Investigation revealed the spider with one of the chicken’s legs down the hole, which was about 5cm in diameter.

 

I also decided to get advice from Andrew Smith who told me that he, too, had come across the local name “Chicken Spider” in his travels. A friend who has been for a long time an importer and breeder of reptiles from South America recalled that some years ago a shipment came in with ten “giant spiders” loosely described on the shipping form as “Arana pollita”. The spiders were, sadly, dead and badly damaged. However my friend remembers that they were “very fat and about 10” across”.

 

Chapter 2

 

The truth, as they say on a well-known TV show, is out there and I started to make preparations for a trip to Peru to investigate this intriguing story. The area of study was to be the rainforest of the river Tambopata, a tributary of the Madres de Dios, which starts in Bolivia, and flows north through the lower valleys of the Andes until it reaches the Amazon and becomes part of the largest river in the world.

 

Tambopata is remarkable and unique in that it has five different rainforest types within its borders (Fig. 1). It is due to the close proximity of the Andes. Flora and Fauna typical of both mountain and rainforest habitats are found there along with wildlife found nowhere else on earth. Out of nowhere, biting winds sweep down from the Andes dropping the air temperature from 35 ºC to around 8 ºC in a matter of hours. The native Indians call these winds Friajes. It is in this bizarre climate that over 1200 different species of butterflies, almost 600 species of birds and incalculable numbers of other insects and consequently therefore spiders live and give it the title “Biodiversity Capital of the World”.

 

 

What better place to begin looking for this elusive arachnid?

 

Despite the research work done and in progress on the myriad animals which inhabit this and the other regions of the Amazon, our knowledge of the theraphosid spiders of South America is still mostly limited to the work of Pocock, Pickard-Cambridge, Simon and their contemporaries at the turn of the last century, and the imports of vaguely identified spiders with no data on their distribution or habitat. Recent influxes of large batches of spiders loosely described as, for instance, “Pink Toes” (Avicularia sp.) are typical of this problem.

 

The expedition was planned for early October, late in the dry season with the river at its lowest ebb and with the hope that we would find adult male theraphosids active in the forest and females mated and constructing egg chambers.

 

The three-point objective of the expedition was: -

 

1.   Find, identify and collect arboreal and terrestrial theraphosid spiders of the Tambopata rainforest.

 

2.   Obtain data on habitat, behaviour and food of these spiders and relate this to the captive care of theraphosids.

 

3.   Obtain information on local attitudes, mythology and the adaptation of spiders to human ingress in the rainforest.

 

Chapter 3

 

If your first view of South America is the huge sprawling city of Lima, you would be forgiven for boarding the next plane and going straight back home. It is a desperate, dangerous city, which gives the feeling of being on the perpetual edge of revolution. Peru’s Maoist terrorist group, Sendero Luminoso, or “Shining Path” responsible for many thousands of deaths, are now thought to have formed alliance with the drug cartels with the result that large areas of central Peru are extremely dangerous to travel through.

 

It almost never rains in Lima. Rain clouds from the rainforest hit the cold air from the Andes and condense further, dropping as rain or snow on the mountains. However, sitting as it does on the coast where warm sea water meets the colder air, Lima festers in an almost perpetual cloak of grey sea mist, which only serves to enhance its threatening appearance.

 

After a heart-stopping ride through the ghettos, and a one-night stay in a hotel, which apparently felt the need to post a guard with a machine gun at the door, we returned to the airport for the onward journey.

 

Tambopata (Fig. 2) is approximately 12 degrees south of the equator, directly east of Lima. The journey to its nearest principal town, Puerto Maldonado, is almost impossible by road and therefore the only practical way to reach it is by air. The flight via the ancient Inca City of Cuzco takes around one and a half-hours. This journey is only possible in the morning as in the afternoon the wind in the mountains picks up and makes flying suicidal.

 

Figure 2: Map showing location of Tambopata

Peru’s rainforests cover some 770,000 sq. km and lie in the east of the country starting with the moist cloud forests which line the foothills of the Andes, merging into the great Amazon basin. Fewer than 1,000,000 people live here and these include indigenous indians who have never had contact with what we choose to call “civilisation”.

 

From 10,000 feet the jungle looks like a rather badly worn shag-pile carpet complete with an attractive brown “swirl” motif where the rivers have twisted into huge oxbows by centuries of eddying currents. From this point, where the mountains flatten out, the river drops only 250m on its journey via the Amazon to the Atlantic over 2500 miles away. The terrain is, as you would expect, almost totally flat.

 

From Puerto Maldonado to the Tambopata reserve you have no choice but to go by boat. Maldonado itself is like a ready made set for a “spaghetti” western, wooden huts, dirt floors, unshaven guys with ponchos accusing you of laughing at their mule, etc., etc. It is also the stopping-off point for gold miners, loggers and indian traders, sitting as it does at the junction of two great rivers.

 

The boat is thoughtfully provided by the “Explorers’ Inn” research station where we were to be based. The river, even at its narrowest point, is 250m across and a rich brown colour from the soil it collected on its way from its sources in the Andes.

 

The jungle around Maldonado has been extensively cleared and what areas of jungle that remain are secondary forest, but the further you progress down the river, the denser the vegetation, the fewer the bare “slash and burn” patches, and the higher the canopy of the truly giant trees.

 

Near the river, as we passed, were the brown stilted huts of the Indian farmers, sited in small clearings among the crowded foliage. I remembered the letter. Was this Chicken Spider country?

 

Chapter 4

 

Roughly four hours later we pulled up to a tiny jetty at the foot of a tall mud-bank and, disembarking, we made our way up the narrow steps and through the forest to the research station.

 

The Explorer’s Inn was a collection of stilted bamboo huts, similar to those we saw on the river, thatched with palm fronds and sited around a clearing.

 

Designed as a research station for scientists wishing to study the flora and fauna quite literally on the doorstep, (and indeed, as we were to find, in the huts as well!) it now caters for the latest chic of “Eco-tourism”. The resident naturalists act as guides for the curious pot-pourri of Europeans and Americans who come to get the jungle experience.

 

Virgin rainforest encloses the little clearing completely. From everywhere the seething noise of the forest hits you almost as hard as the inescapable wet heat. High-pitched tones of the cicadas and crickets interspersed with crashes in the tree branches as a monkey flees at your approach or the cry of a Screaming Pe-Ha which sounds uncannily like a wolf whistle.

 

It seemed inconceivable that after months of preparation and buying of strong, lightweight equipment that would enable us to travel deep into the forest, that we would find the subject of our search on our very first evening in the forest.

 

But that is exactly what happened.

 

Darren, a soft spoken Australian, in the jungle to study arboreal mammals, remarked casually that he knew of a “big spider” under one of the huts. Needless to say Tessa and myself almost frog-marched him to the hut.

 

In the hard clay soil by one of the stilts our first wild tarantula stood defiantly at the mouth of her burrow. Either due to the battery of torches trained on her or the vibration of our footsteps, she turned and crawled down the neck of her burrow.

 

Fortunately, due to the shallow angle that it was dug, she was still visible, so, armed with a head torch and crawling warily under the hut, I was able to observe her.

 

The femurs, patellae and carapace reflected back a distinct metallic blue colour in the light of the torch. My immediate reaction was that this was Pamphoboetus antinious (Bolivian Steely-blue birdeater). This identification was borne out by the Tarantula Identification Guide which showed its distribution as the Madres de Dios area and this was well within its range. The blue coloration, as anyone who has seen P. antinious knows, is very distinctive.

 

We were delighted at having found our first theraphosid but was this the Chicken Spider? As a “birdeater” it was of average size (length 70mm, legspan 150-170mm). But clearly further specimens were needed to establish distribution.

 

We did not have to wait long. The rumour of two other possible burrows came to our notice following conversations with the local naturalists. The first was inside a reconstructed native hut with an earthen floor.

 

Once again the substrate was hard clay with a lot of decayed leaf material. This made the burrow difficult to spot. We were accompanied by four enthusiastic Eco-tourists, one of whom, a young lady named Trudy, saw a pair of black legs and called us over. Once again the legs vanished at our approach to the disappointment of the audience so I decided to try something which I had tried in Africa with some success - tarantula tickling.

 

Nothing happened at first but I persisted with my terrestrial “fishing” with visions of the spider howling with laughter at my insect impression. The grass stalk was suddenly jerked violently out of my hand and the spider appeared to a gasp from all. The spider was an overall jet black in colour with a pale band across the base of the chelicerae and very faint “V” shaped marks on all the patellae. The posterior section of the abdomen had a few reddish/brown setae.

 

It was the size of the spider, however, that made it remarkable. Speaking as one who has kept and bred Theraphosa blondi (Goliath birdeater) for many years I am used to large spiders but here was a thickset spider which looked like T. blondi, behaved like T. blondi with a legspan in excess of 230mm (9 inches) but in a region T. blondi should not be. Almost immediately the giant spider dashed back down her burrow. Hot and weary we vowed to return the next day

 

Plate 1: The chicken spider, Tambopata S. E. Peru (Photo M. Nicholas)

 

 

Plate 2: The chicken spider, Tambopata S. E. Peru (Photo M. Nicholas)

 

Chapter 5

 

In the bright sunlight of the next day we investigated the second burrow. The second spider was of the same species and was even bigger than the first and we were able to report fully on both the spider and its habitat and behaviour. Once again the spider had chosen a spot close to natural cover from trees and from another bamboo hut.

 

THE BURROW

 

Entrance to the burrow was dug into a bank at a shallow angle with leaf litter around and webbed into the entrance. (See Fig. 3 for burrow layout and dimensions)

 

Figure 3: Burrow structure

 

As shown, the burrow was gently sloping and quite shallow, with a narrow passage opening out into an enlarged chamber. Despite the frequent prolonged rainstorms of the area, the burrow substrate was completely dry and hard. As previously stated the patch was very well sheltered and the burrow design seemed to encourage water to run away from the entrance. This gave the burrow a humidity very similar to the surrounding air (although this was a constant 90-100%). But, taking temperature readings across the course of a day we saw that there was a small but noticeable difference in the air temperature as follows:

 

            Time                 Air temp (ºC)                Burrow temp (ºC)

             0700                           30                                30

             0900                           33                                32

             1100                           35                                34

             1300                           36                                34

             1500                           36                                34

             1700                           33                                33

             1900                           32                                32

             2100                           32                                32

 

The burrow design and position seems to buffer the temperature extremes experienced outside (Fig. 4). The burrow location was in the intermediate zone between terra-firma clay and upper flood plain forest (Fig. 1). This means that the river never floods this area during the rainy season and the burrow would remain relatively dry year-round. Whether the spider herself dug the burrow from scratch or whether she modified an existing rodent burrow was impossible to tell.

 

Figure 4: Chronological positions & temperature variations

 

Silk distribution within the burrow was, as expected, much denser in the enlarged chamber. However the use of leaf debris and silk at the entrance served as excellent camouflage and may have also helped to route the rainwater away.

 

Housekeeping would also seem to be a priority to the spider. The inside of the nest was meticulously clean with no chitinous insect parts or other indigestible remains from previous catches, stuck in the silk lining of the enlarged chamber or near the mouth of the burrow. Indeed, in a close scrutiny of the ground up to 300mm away from the opening in all directions, I could still not find any evidence of “past meals”. This could mean that either the spider takes its leftovers a long way from its burrow or they had been dispersed by natural detritus feeders such as Coleoptera or Acari, or by the natural forces of decay.

 

Those of us who keep and observe terrestrial theraphosids see an example of this in a microcosm within our spiders’ vivaria. The undigested or indigestible sections of food animals are removed as far away as possible from the spider’s retreat, very often into the water dish. This is particularly noticeable with vertebrate remains from which the spider leaves a relatively large amount of undigested matter. Of course the captive spider is limited by the geography of its tank as to where it deposits the remains and it would seem necessary for us to remove the waste as soon as possible due to the rapid development of mites and fungal infections in the substrate which, concentrated within the confines of a vivarium, may cause the secondary infection, or even death, of the spider.

 

Another noticeable absence from the burrow was the evidence of previous moults. The condition of the spider itself will be discussed in later paragraphs. The large and well-established amounts of silk throughout the enlarged chamber and at the mouth of the retreat suggested that the spider had been living there for some considerable time and yet there were not even fragments from previous ecdysis cycles and the urticating hairs on the abdomen were intact indicating a relatively recent moult. Once again this lack of material draws two possible suppositions:

 

1. The spider disposed of its shed skin in much the same way as it did with its food waste or

 

2. The shed skin was reabsorbed by the spider (chitin is a nitrogenous polysaccharide impregnated with calcium to give it rigidity and as such has a nutritional value).

 

It is well known that other arthropods such as centipedes eat their shed skins almost immediately after ecdysis, and a baby caterpillar’s first meal is always the hard shell of its egg. Cicadas, reduvids, dragonflies, etc. however do not give their shed skins a second glance and it remains discarded where it was shed.

 

Theraphosids in captivity do not provide any one answer. I have seen shed skins ejected from the retreat and totally ignored and also, on occasion, the hard sections partially eaten. This is on the times I have resisted the temptation to remove the skin myself and set it in a natural pose - come on, we’ve all done it!

 

It can only be speculated as to how the burrow structure aids the spider in defence and attack. At no time did we observe any spider further than 150mm or so away from the entrance to its retreat and an incautious movement on our part would send the spider dashing back down its burrow. It strikes me that the spider is particularly vulnerable in the narrow “neck” of the burrow, having neither room to turn or strike. Defensive action of any kind would therefore only be possible in the enlarged chamber with its higher ceiling and where a potential predator would be restricted by the confined nature of the entrance and the spider, whilst effectively in a dead end, would still have the advantage of space.

 

As to the form that predators may take it is certainly true that there was no shortage of wasps in the forest from the tiny lchneumon sp. to bi-plane sized pepsids which insisted on acting scenes from the Battle of Britain around our hut. Some of these species undoubtedly predate on spiders although we did not see this in action.

 

In addition, a large variety of snakes were indigenous to the area. We saw a small bright green palm viper (Bothrops sp.) and we were told by the resident naturalists that the Bushmaster (Lachesis muta), largest of all pit vipers, the greatly feared “barba amarilla” Bothrops atrox (formerly confused with the fer-de-lance B. lanceolatus) and many other venomous snakes were found in the reserve.  The locale and design of the burrow made it potentially an excellent snake retreat and they must be listed as a threat.

 

The native staff of the Explorers’ Inn promptly confirmed that this and the three other specimens we found over the course of our stay, were indeed the “Arana pollita”. However, the scientific identity of this enormous theraphosid remains open to speculation. The initial reaction to the appearance of the first of these giants was that this was a regional variation of Theraphosa blondi (Goliath birdeater). After several attempts we managed to coax the spider from her burrow and, blocking her retreat, were able to carry out a simple peg measurement. The flattened legspan of the largest example that we found was 270mm (10.7”) in diameter.

 

The spider was entirely clothed in black pubescence with no variation in colour from chelicerae to spinnerets. Long red/brown setae started three quarters of the way down the abdomen and continued to the end. Setae on the legs were sparse and black in colour. Distinct light bands were apparent on the base of the chelicerae and on the trochanter with more indistinct light bands in between leg sections.

 

Markings on all the patellae were one vertical and one diagonal line with the diagonal on all legs bending to form a “V” shape. Two more faint parallel markings occurred on the tibia of all legs ending with a short, light mark on the upper section of the metatarsus.

 

Anatomically, the most noticeable feature of the Chicken Spider was the swollen femur of legs three and four which, whilst noticeably thicker than legs one and two, did not look out of place and gave the spider a very “stocky” appearance. The foveal groove in the carapace was transverse (straight).

 

But was this a variation of the big, brown Theraphosa blondi (Goliath birdeater) that we see occasionally at trade shows? These tend to be imported from British and French Guyana, Surinam, Venezuela and Brazil, all east coast countries but even with these examples we see a marked colour variation from a very dark brown to a ginger/tan colour.

 

Theories regarding the reasons for this large colour variation within one species range from regionalised sub-species, proximity to moult and relative humidity of the surroundings. The concentration of setae on the legs also varies from specimen to specimen.

 

We see another example of colour variation with the red flashes on Brachypelma smithi (Mexican Red Knee) where specimens show colours from deep red to orangey-yellow on the patellae depending on its locale.

 

The size and approximate relative dimensions of the Chicken Spider seem to suggest a close relationship to T. blondi.  Its behaviour, aggression, urtication and stridulation all correspond. (N.B. The description above is constant for all four of the specimens we found.)

 

The question I have been asked most often since my return is “Did you bring any back?” The sad answer is no. A Chicken Spider, I’m sure, would form the centrepiece of anyone’s collection and would cause many a captive breeder to drool. The truth is that to take one of these spectacular spiders away from the reserve would be to touch a previously untouched and truly beautiful place, to take a little link out of a complex and delicate food chain.

 

And maybe the suggestion of this little-known giant retains a little mystery for us all!

 

A SAD FAREWELL

 

For those who love sunrises, dawn on the river Tambopata is a small slice of paradise, with a constant white noise of cicadas, crickets and birds and the occasional roar of the red howler monkeys, sadly unimpressive little beasts for such a terrifying sound. They gather in a tree just before dawn to compete in the round Peru shouting contest and believe me competition is stiff!

 

The sky turns the colour of over-ripe peach flesh and this is reflected in the unrippled waters of the river. As the sun hits the exposed mud banks they burst into striated lines of orange and red like raspberry ripple ice cream. This, contrasted with the million shades of green of the forest, is the lasting memory I take with me from the rainforest back to civilisation. From a personal point of view, we had found and had a wonderful opportunity to study the mysterious spider that we came to look for.  Looking out at the banks floating past, I could not help but wonder what the future held for this forest and, indeed, the rest of the Amazon (see last chapter)

 

Chapter 6

 

Even if the correct identification of the Chicken Spider is open to debate, the adaptation of this huge arachnid to human ingress in the forest is remarkable.

 

Three of the four spiders we found were within 2 meters of the bamboo buildings, utilising shelter by constructing under the raised floor or, in one case, actually inside the Indian hut. But, of course, the most surprising adaptation and the way it got its name is the predation of confined chickens. Questioning local people (in my world class pidgin Spanish!) the attitude is that the spider is a relatively minor pest but this annoyance is tempered with a definite fear. This attitude does not apply to all spiders by any means and sheet and orb webs in the eaves are left alone along with active hunters such as the large Heteropoda venatoria (which I’m sorry to say caused palpitations among the resident naturalists) which are simply ignored.

 

Like most of South America, Peru’s population is predominantly Roman Catholic. In every town, no matter how small, there is a central “Plaza de Armas” with a grand church in pride of place. Catholicism was brought and enforced by the Spanish Conquistadors around 500 years ago. They effectively wiped out the Inca people and their culture when they overthrew the Inca capital of Cuzco. Unfortunately the Incas had no written history; beliefs and stories were passed on by word of mouth so the place of animals in their culture can only be interpreted from the carvings, stone artefacts and burial sites. Being a mountain race, the condor was greatly revered as having a close relationship with the sun. (The sun god, Tummi, was the most powerful in Inca culture.) Indeed, at the most famous lost Inca city of Machu Picchu there is a condor temple with huge wings cut out of the rock and its head facing the rising sun.

 

Llamas, alpacas and vicunas are all represented along with some species of monkey. But the majority of figurines are of ferocious humanoid masks, with huge fangs, bulging eyes and elaborate headdresses. The significance of the spider in the mountain cultures seemed to have died out with the fall of the Paracas and Nazcas.

 

The Indian tribes of the rainforest are as diverse from each other as they are from the mountain races. Some have almost entirely embraced a “western” lifestyle and mine gold from the riverbeds and trade in US$. Others are truly unchanged and live entirely in and on the forest with a dialect unique to their tribe and, as with the Incas, totally unwritten. In between are tribes such as the Shipibo who maintain a jungle-dependent lifestyle but whose handicrafts are traded at the small jungle towns.

 

Animals occur on these ceramics and weavings. Two interwoven snakes feature strongly as does the black caiman (South America’s giant crocodile), the bizarre Hoatzin, and a tessellating pattern of a featureless black spider. The significance of this representation I could not discern but its thick legs and large body strongly suggested one of the huge arachnids we had found.

 

And so the giant Nazca spider lies impassively in the desert as it has done for over 2000 years. What did the Nazcas see? What part did this spider play in their lives? What have we not yet found?

 

Black Gold

 

Nutrients on the floor of a rainforest are sparse; to succeed a plant must make its roots shallow and widespreading. But underneath the layer of clay on the forest floor, millions of years of decaying plant material may have signed the death warrant for the rainforest.

 

Oil has been discovered in southeastern Peru. A giant oil company has already started geological surveys and experimental drilling in the forest and the implications of finding a large reservoir do not bear thinking of

 

Much lip service is paid to rainforest preservation, throw in a rock star or two and it becomes fashionable to be “Eco-friendly”. Yet logging continues and now the threat of petro-chemical exploration is here.

 

Western oil officials have made contact with some of the previously uncontacted Indian tribes to gain their assistance in the search for oil. They assure them that they will not be disturbed and their lifestyle will remain unchanged. Whether this is true or not remains to be seen, but the simple action of making contact with these people may itself sentence them to oblivion.

 

The common cold, influenza, chicken pox, everyday diseases to which we have a natural resistance, will infect and kill an unresistant Indian in days. An unintentional consequence, certainly, but as effective a killer as putting a gun to their head and pulling the trigger.

 

Cut down a tree and its animal inhabitants must find new homes in another tree, which has its full complement of animals. One set of animals die and a small slice is taken out of the food chain.

 

Poison a river (petro-chemical refining produces large amounts of effluent from water treatment de-ionisation resins) and you poison the phytoplankton with, for example, benzene or metal oxides. The phytoplankton gets eaten by zooplankton, zooplankton by segmented worms, worms by fish, fish by birds, etc., etc.

 

The toxins concentrate up as you move through the food chain and that includes our beloved spiders.

 

The sheer incomprehensible size of the Amazon rainforest, I guarantee, means that we have found just a few of the spiders that live there. Just think of the South American spiders that we see available at trade shows or in books. How little we know and how much we may never get a chance to learn.

 

TO HELP PRESERVE THE TAMBOPATA RAINFOREST AND

THE CHICKEN SPIDER PLEASE CONTACT

T.R.E.E.S, C/O MR. J. FORREST, 64 BELSIZE PARK, LONDON, NW3 4EH.

 

References

 

Explorers’ Inn 1996. General description of rainforest types within Tambopata reserve.

 

Hillyard, P. 1994.  The Book of the Spider, from Arachnophobia to the love of spiders.  Hutchinson, London.

 

Merlicio, J. 1987.  A Pictorial History of Peru” (Background information on Inca, Nazca and Paraca cultures)

 

Smith, A. M. 1986.  The tarantula classification and identification guide.  Fitzgerald Publishing, London.

 

 

This is the online version of : -Nicholas, M. R. 1996.  Araña pollita, the hunt for the chicken spider.  Journal of the British Tarantula Society Study Group (5): 1-16. This online version contains some style alterations not featured in the original paper edition.