In general figure the shrimp resembles the prawn: it, however,
carries no sword-like rostrum; and the front pair of feet, instead
of terminating each in a pair of claws, have a strong hook which
bends down upon a short spine. The limbs too are very much shorter,
and the animal is less elegant. The colour is a pale warm brown; but
when examined closely this is seen to resolve itself into a freckling
of black, grey, brown, and orange specks, arranged so as to make a
kaleidoscopic sort of pattern. When highly magnified many of the dots
take star-like forms.
It is amusing to see how rapidly and cleverly the shrimp takes its
place in the sand. If there be an inch or two’s depth of water, the
animal quietly sinks on the bottom; then, in a moment, you see a little
cloud of dust (so it seems) rise up along each side, and the body sinks
till the surrounding surface is nearly level with its back. Then you
perceive the value of the peculiar style of colouring: the freckling
of specks of various tints of brown, grey, and red, so exactly
resembles the hues of the sand, that you might look close at a shrimp
so sunken, and yet not discern it. The eyes, however, which are set on
the top of the head, like a Dutchman’s garret windows, are keeping a
bright watch upward, and here it lies, quiet and, against most enemies,
safe. The iron lip of the drag, however, scrapes up with its edge the
upper inch of sand-bottom, routs out the poor shrimps, which dart
upwards, to find themselves within the mouth of the ever-advancing net.
The agency in the burrowing is the false feet, which, waved rapidly to
and fro, brush up the fine sand with the currents that they make in the
water, and throw it up in those clouds on each side, presently to fall
again on the body, and help to conceal it.