Feathers and Feelers 143 



approach, strike out in all directions with panic-stricken 

 haste. The scampering of the fiddler crabs making 

 their way up the slope to their burrows and the pro- 

 gressive leaps of the minnow shoals are distinctly 

 audible as a continuous, murmurous hum. Larger 

 forms are also here displayed which do not take kindly 

 to our presence. Almost under our feet the ebbing tide 

 has left a molting lady crab. Partly buried in a puddle 

 of silt, she fidgets uneasily, viewing us apprehensively 

 with her twitching stalk eyes. Having been weakened 

 by the profound physical change that she is undergoing, 

 she was unable to swim out with the retreating water. 

 But she need have no fear where we are concerned; 

 far greater danger lies in the chance observation by 

 sorpe member of a flock of herring gulls now rising with 

 a' chorus of angry cries within a stone's throw of our 

 advance. Nearing the spot where raged the recent 

 tumult, we soon have no difficulty in learning why they 

 resent our intrusion. High up on the beach is the 

 stranded carcass of a fishing frog. The casting-up of 

 these curious deep-water fish is not an uncommon occur- 

 rence on this shore; although in what manner they 

 meet their death is not readily apparent. I once found 

 a specimen nearly four feet long which had a mouth 

 more than a foot and a half wide; it was intact, 

 bearing no external evidence of any mortal injuries. 

 Nor, on cutting it open to examine the contents of its 

 stomach, was there anything to indicate an unseemly 

 death. Sometimes fishes are known to die from the 

 effects of trying to eat over-large spine-bearing crea- 

 tures which they are unable either completely to swal- 

 low or to regurgitate. But the stomachs of those ani- 



