62 Dwellers of the Sea and Shore 



is the brilliant orange tubercle called the madreporite. 

 Lying near the rim of the central disk, at the angle of 

 two of the rays, this rounded prominence is set out in 

 vivid contrast to the rest of the body. Its gaudy color 

 and exquisite conformation make it no mean adornment 

 to the otherwise rugged exterior. It is a miniature 

 replica of some exotic brain coral. In structure it is 

 porous. It is, in brief, a filter. Its purpose is to strain 

 the water which is taken in by the starfish and used to 

 distend the tube feet when it walks. 



Lifting Asterias from the platform, I drop it into 

 the water and watch it sink slowly toward the bottom 

 where it becomes nearly lost in the dark haze that all 

 but obscures the verdant floor. Its position, however, 

 is marked for a few moments by an ascending shower 

 of bubbles, greenish-cast pearls arising in diminishing 

 numbers to break at the surface with sparkling bright- 

 ness. The soft, pleasing murmur of the bursting beads 

 finally dies out and my attention is directed to the more 

 visible parts of the hull. It immediately becomes evi- 

 dent that something of more than usual significance is 

 taking place. Several feet below the mussels I see a 

 number of starfishes clinging to the timber with their 

 backs humped in the characteristic manner they assume 

 when enveloping food. 



What can they be eating? What is it that they have 

 found in that region where only fixed vegetation seems 

 to flourish? Certainly they cannot be vegetarians. 

 And as for the presence of anything else of an edible 

 nature, I am too familiar with this portion of the hull 

 to have allowed it to escape me if it exists. Further- 

 more, it is impossible that they are enjoying a meal 



