JOHN.

No. VIII.

The fleet running crab (_cypoda pugilator_), mentioned as living in

burrows dug in a moist soil, and preying chiefly on the sugar-cane, is

justly regarded as one of the most noxious pests that can infest a

plantation. Their burrows extend to a great depth, and run in various

directions; they are also, like those of our fiddlers, nearly full of

muddy water, so that, when these marauders once plump into their dens,

they may be considered as entirely beyond pursuit. Their numbers are so

great, and they multiply in such numbers, as in some seasons to destroy

a large proportion of a sugar crop; and sometimes their ravages,

combined with those of the rats and other plunderers, are absolutely

ruinous to the sea-side planters. I was shown, by the superintendant of

a place thus infested, a great quantity of cane utterly killed by these

creatures, which cut it off in a peculiar manner, in order to suck the

juice; and he assured me that, during that season, the crop would be

two-thirds less than its average, solely owing to the inroads of the

crabs and rats, which, if possible, are still more numerous. It was to

me an irresistible source of amusement to observe the air of spite and

vexation with which he spoke of the crabs: the rats he could shoot,

poison, or drive off for a time with dogs. But the crabs would not eat

his poison, while sugar-cane was growing; the dogs could only chase them

into their holes; and if, in helpless irritation, he sometimes fired his

gun at a cluster of them, the shot only rattled over their shells like

hail against a window. It is truly desirable that some summary mode of

lessening their number could be devised, and it is probable that this

will be best effected by poison, as it may be possible to obtain a bait

sufficiently attractive to ensnare them. Species of this genus are found

in various parts of our country, more especially towards the south.

About Cape May, our friends may have excellent opportunities of testing

the truth of what is said of their swiftness and vigilance.

The land-crab, which is common to many of the West India Islands, is

more generally known as the Jamaica crab, because it has been most

frequently described from observation in that island. Wherever found,

they have all the habit of living, during great part of the year, in the

highlands, where they pass the day-time concealed in huts, cavities, and

under stones, and come out at night for their food. They are remarkable

for collecting in vast bodies, and marching annually to the sea-side, in

order to deposit their eggs in the sand; and this accomplished, they

return to their former abodes, if undisturbed. They commence their march

in the night, and move in the most direct line towards the destined

point. So obstinately do they pursue this route, that they will not turn

out of it for any obstacle that can possibly be surmounted. During the

day-time they skulk and lie hid as closely as possible, but thousands

upon thousands of them are taken for the use of the table, by whites and

blacks, as on their seaward march they are very fat, and of fine

flavour. On the homeward journey, those that have escaped capture are

weak, exhausted, and unfit for use. Before dismissing the crabs, I must

mention one which was a source of much annoyance to me at first, and of

considerable interest afterwards, from the observation of its habits. At

that time I resided in a house delightfully situated about two hundred

yards from the sea, fronting the setting sun, having in clear weather

the lofty mountains of Porto Rico, distant about eighty miles, in view.

Like most of the houses in the island, ours had seen better days, as was

evident from various breaks in the floors, angles rotted off the doors,

sunken sills, and other indications of decay. Our sleeping room, which

was on the lower floor, was especially in this condition; but as the

weather was delightfully warm, a few cracks and openings, though rather

large, did not threaten much inconvenience. Our bed was provided with

that indispensable accompaniment, a musquito bar or curtain, to which we

were indebted for escape from various annoyances. Scarcely had we

extinguished the light, and composed ourselves to rest, when we heard,

in various parts of the room, the most startling noises. It appeared as

if numerous hard and heavy bodies were trailed along the floor; then

they sounded as if climbing up by the chairs and other furniture, and

frequently something like a large stone would tumble down from such

elevations, with a loud noise, followed by a peculiar chirping noise.

What an effect this produced upon entirely inexperienced strangers, may

well be imagined by those who have been suddenly waked up in the dark,

by some unaccountable noise in the room. Finally, these invaders began

to ascend the bed; but happily the musquito bar was securely tucked

under the bed all around, and they were denied access, though their

efforts and tumbles to the floor produced no very comfortable

reflections. Towards day-light they began to retire, and in the morning

no trace of any such visitants could be perceived. On mentioning our

troubles, we were told that this nocturnal disturber was only Bernard

the Hermit, called generally the soldier-crab, perhaps from the peculiar

habit he has of protecting his body by thrusting it into any empty

shell, which he afterwards carries about until he outgrows it, when it

is relinquished for a larger. Not choosing to pass another night quite

so noisily, due care was taken to exclude Monsieur Bernard, whose

knockings were thenceforward confined to the outside of the house. I

baited a large wire rat-trap with some corn-meal, and placed it outside

of the back door, and in the morning found it literally half filled with

these crabs, from the largest-sized shell that could enter the trap,

down to such as were not larger than a hickory-nut. Here was a fine

collection made at once, affording a very considerable variety in the

size and age of the specimens, and the different shells into which they

had introduced themselves.

The soldier or hermit-crab, when withdrawn from his adopted shell,

presents, about the head and claws, a considerable family resemblance to

the lobster. The claws, however, are very short and broad, and the body

covered with hard shell only in that part which is liable to be exposed

or protruded. The posterior or abdominal part of the body is covered

only by a tough skin, and tapers towards a small extremity, furnished

with a sort of hook-like apparatus, enabling it to hold on to its

factitious dwelling. Along the surface of its abdomen, as well as on the

back, there are small projections, apparently intended for the same

purpose. When once fairly in possession of a shell, it would be quite a

difficult matter to pull the crab out, though a very little heat applied

to the shell will quickly induce him to leave it. The shells they select

are taken solely with reference to their suitableness, and hence you may

catch a considerable number of the same species, each of which is in a

different species or genus of shell. The shells commonly used by them,

when of larger size, are those of the whilk, which are much used as an

article of food by the islanders, or the smaller conch [strombus]

shells. The very young hermit-crabs are found in almost every variety of

small shell found on the shores of the Antilles. I have frequently been

amused by ladies eagerly engaged in making collections of these

beautiful little shells, and not dreaming of their being tenanted by a

living animal, suddenly startled, on displaying their acquisitions, by

observing them to be actively endeavouring to escape; or, on introducing

the hand into the reticule to produce a particularly fine specimen, to

receive a smart pinch from the claws of the little hermit. The instant

the shell is closely approached or touched, they withdraw as deeply into

the shell as possible, and the small ones readily escape observation,

but they soon become impatient of captivity, and try to make off. The

species of this genus (_pagurus_) are very numerous, and during the

first part of their lives are all aquatic; that is, they are hatched in

the little pools about the margin of the sea, and remain there until

those that are destined to live on land are stout enough to commence

their travels. The hermit-crabs, which are altogether aquatic, are by no

means so careful to choose the lightest and thinnest shells, as the land

troops. The aquatic soldiers may be seen towing along shells of the most

disproportionate size; but their relatives, who travel over the hills by

moonlight, know that all unnecessary incumbrance of weight should be

avoided. They are as pugnacious and spiteful as any of the crustaceous

class; and when taken, or when they fall and jar themselves

considerably, utter a chirping noise, which is evidently an angry

expression. They are ever ready to bite with their claws, and the pinch

of the larger individuals is quite painful. It is said that, when they

are changing their shells, for the sake of obtaining more commodious

coverings, they frequently fight for possession, which may be true where

two that have forsaken their old shells meet, or happen to make choice

of the same vacant one. It is also said, that one crab is sometimes

forced to give up the shell he is in, should a stronger chance to desire

it. This, as I never saw it, I must continue to doubt; for I cannot

imagine how the stronger could possibly accomplish his purpose, seeing

that the occupant has nothing to do but keep close quarters. The invader

would have no chance of seizing him to pull him out, nor could he do him

any injury by biting upon the surface of his hard claws, the only part

that would be exposed. If it be true that one can dispossess the other,

it must be by some contrivance of which we are still ignorant. These

soldier-crabs feed on a great variety of substances, scarcely refusing

anything that is edible: like the family they belong to, they have a

decided partiality for putrid meats, and the planters accuse them also

of too great a fondness for the sugar-cane. Their excursions are

altogether nocturnal: in the day-time they lie concealed very

effectually in small holes, among stones, or any kind of rubbish, and

are rarely taken notice of, even where hundreds are within a short

distance of each other. The larger soldier-crabs are sometimes eaten by

the blacks, but they are not much sought after even by them, as they are

generally regarded with aversion and prejudice. There is no reason, that

we are aware of, why they should not be as good as many other crabs, but

they certainly are not equally esteemed.

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