148 COLLECTOR'S RAMBLES 



like other fishes, but jump along on the surface till they 

 reach the mud at the other side, when they alight, and 

 curl themselves for another jump. 



A very strange thing is to see the fiddler-crabs at the 

 mouths of their holes, waiting for the return of the tide. 

 Each crab is armed with one monstrous claw, out of all 

 proportion to his bod} r , and one very small, delicate, 

 left-hand claw, with which he feeds himself after the 

 food has been procured with his stout right claw. This 

 large member is red at the tip and yellow at the base, 

 and as the crabs lie in the mouths of their holes this 

 big, brightly colored appendage outside it gives the 

 muddy flats the appearance of being covered with gor- 

 geous flowers. I noticed the larger crabs often tried 

 to catch the jumping fish, generally meeting with very 

 poor success ; but the larger fish often snapped up small 

 crabs, that were imprudent enough to walk about on 

 the mud at such times. 



After gathering some large conical shells in the 

 mangrove swamps, I reached the beach. A stretch of 

 white sand lay before me ; in the distance was an 

 island on which the white tower of a lighthouse shone 

 out against the blue sky ; the water was low, and two 

 schooners lay stuck in the sand of the river waiting for 

 the tide. As I looked on the lovely scene, a dark gray. 

 moving patch on the sand caught my attention, and a 

 distinct rattling came to my ears. 



I shall never forget the start it gave me, when, on 



