like the robber crab in habits; the natives go so far as to say that it is the 

 same animal. The size of the kakara can be judged by the size of his shell, 

 which may be as small as a thimble or as large as an orange. His soft and mus- 

 cular body curls into the spiral of the shell and is securely anchored by a 

 twist of the tail. The interior end reminds one of a tiny lobster; the same 

 stalk eyes, same legs and strong claws. Kaugre his name, he is gregarious." 

 But let me tell you about a colony of Hermit land crabs I knew quite well in 

 Fiji. One day I was patiently and vainly waiting to catch a glimpse of an ex- 

 asperating lot of wild Jungle Fowl (near relatives of the ancestors of our 

 farmyard rooster and hen) that I had heard cackling and crowing in the mountain 

 forest of Beqa (or ICbenga, as the Admiralty charts prefer to spell it, so the 

 stranger may correctly pronounce the name of this geographically important is- 

 land) and had come to rest on a trail about a thousand feet above and overlook- 

 ing the ocean. Beneath me a little native village, whose chief was our host, 

 lay scattered along a coral beach for half a mile. Barely visible over the edge 

 of the cliff was the Chief's guest house and a small weir in which was im- 

 prisoned a huge turtle for his chiefly table; turtle is taboo for any Fijian 

 below the rank of Buli. Until the chief had, a few days previously, sent four 

 as a present to the quadrennial Conference of Chiefs, the watery enclosure was 

 pretty well filled \rxth these ugly but toothsome chelonians. Beyond lay the 

 bay and, basking in the sunshine on three native boats, sprawled a dozen or 

 more sailors, among them two or three Solomon Islanders assisting the Fijians 

 in a task in which the latter specialized, the South Seas form of the dolce 

 far niente. The day was so beautiful that I forgot all about the "wild barn- 

 yard" I had come so far to see, and gave myself up to imitating and sympathizing 

 with the Polynesians in and on the water below me. I happened to look at the 

 partially covered path a few yards ahead of me and became aware dimly that the 

 square of earth was moving ever so slowly down hill. A clearer view of this 

 spot revealed a well packed array of shellfish of all sizes, big, little and 

 smallest, the last less than half an inch, the first, four or five inches 

 across. Evidently a number of gastropod families were on the move and headed 

 down the trail. This guess proved correct so far as the exterior shell was 

 concerned but the live interior turned out to be an equal number of crustaceans - 

 a large colony of hermit crabs on the march. With a stick I touched several 

 heads to see them withdrawn within the concha, and marvelled at the excellent 

 choice these creatures had made of properly sized shells, how well they fitted, 

 how nicely concealed was each interloping crab in his armored retreat, secure 

 from outside enemies. 



Engaged in these investigations, I did not notice, partly concealed as he 

 was by the pathside vegetation, a figure that made me laugh and continue to 

 laugh. As this, the largest of the crabs, crawled out of the herbage into the 

 cleared trail I saw that he was not garbed in appropriate dress. Instead of 

 the outworn shell affected by all his companions, he was girt about by a segment 

 of cocoanut that covered only part of his body, much as the conventional, un- 

 clothed tramp is pictured as veiling his nakedness by means of a flour barrel. 

 Indeed, the old crab looked like a disreputable "drunk", as he staggered along 

 in his ancient, broken and weatherbeaten nut-shell. It was, of course, no fault 

 of his that the mountain gastropods on Beqa did not grow large enough to furnish 

 shelter and to meet the exigencies of adult fashion in dress. 



However, he kept step with the moving ranks, the ill-clad hermit forming the 

 rear guard, staggering along until he was the only crab in sight. Then with a 

 final wave of his antennae, as if in jaunty adieu, he rolled his shabby old 

 shell into the leafy debris of the forest and disappeared from my sight. 



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