A JUNGLE BEACH 103 
the end of the brush. The crabs were worthy 
tenants of such strange architecture, with com- 
ical eyes twiddling on the end of their stalks, 
and their white-mittened fists feinting and threat- 
ening as I looked into their little dark rain or 
tide-pools. 
I found three pockets on one wall, which 
seemed as if they must have been “salted” for 
my benefit; and in them, as elsewhere on my 
beach, the two extremes of life met. The top- 
most one, curiously enough, contained a small 
crab, together with a large water-beetle at the 
farther end. Both seemed rather self-conscious, 
and there was no hint of fraternizing. The bee- 
tle seemed to be merely existing until darkness, 
when he could fly to more water and better com- 
pany; and the crab appeared to be waiting for 
the beetle to go. 
The next pocket was a long, narrow, horizontal 
fold, and I hoped to find real excitement among 
its aquatic folk; but to my surprise it had no 
bottom, but was a deep chute or socket, opening 
far below to the sand. However, this was not my 
discovery, and I saw dimly a weird little head 
looking up at me—a gecko lizard, which called 
this crevice home and the crabs neighbors, I 
