So ANIMAL LIFE 



if starved, microscopic and ultimately dissolves. 

 Right down at the base of the animal kingdom, there- 

 fore, we find the body feeding on itself or on some 

 other animal — in times of famine diminishing, in 

 times of plenty growing, budding and overflowing 

 into its children. As the jelly-fish are budded off 

 they leave the shore, pass into deep water, and find 

 themselves amongst less and less vegetable food. 

 Their activity demands nourishment, and a deliberate 

 choice of prey is made from amongst their fellows. 



It is to the sea with its stress of life that we may 

 look for one explanation of the varied food of animals. 

 The strand itself, barren and lifeless as it appears, 

 is full of buried minuscules, plant and animal. On 

 this supply the larger animals depend, and in it they 

 bury themselves. The lugworm (fig. 26, e) and heart- 

 urchin (fig. 26, a) are but two examples out of many 

 that eat the very strand in order to gain its hidden 

 nutriment. Mollusc and urchin, though protected by 

 armour and spines, are the resort of parasitic sea- 

 worms and crabs that when young have gained a hold 

 or an entrance into these citadels and grow to maturity 

 on the secretions and crumbs of their host. The mussel 

 shelters the pea-crab (fig. 15), the prickly urchin a 

 sea-worm or a small bivalve. 



These feeders on the minuscular life of the shore 

 are in turn the prey of other animals. Scallop and 

 oyster, seemingly so well protected by their shells 

 and strong muscles, arc the particular food of the 

 starfish. Humping itself over the bivalve, the star- 



