The West India Islands possess in the Land Crab (_Gecarcinus ruricola_) a kind of crustacean highlander, who retreats into the uplands at certain times in the year. “As the spawning season approaches a mighty gathering of the clans takes place, and whole legions, unwarned by fiery cross or blazing beacon, hasten forth to join the living tide flowing onward towards the sea. Through the tangled jungle, down the rock‐strewed ravine, over fallen tree‐trunks, and among the dense undergrowth of the forest, in ceaseless, creeping, crawling, scuttling thousands, still they come onward, and ever onward, as the bright stars shine out to light them on their way. Banks, hedges, walls, and even houses, are passed straight over in this crustacean steeplechase, no flags being needed to keep the mail‐ clad competitors to the true course. Instinct the guide, and the blue sea for a goal, nothing stops the race. “Cuffee and his companions, who have been gossiping and story‐telling beneath their cocoa‐leaf roofs until half asleep, appear to become most violent and incurable lunatics, on suddenly becoming aware of the nocturnal exodus. They leap high in the air, shout, scream, and dance like fiends, whilst the most ready‐witted of the crew dash off to ‘de massa’ with the startling news. ‘Hi, golly, sa! de crab! de crab! He come for sure, this time, sure ’nuff. Plenty catch um bime by;’ and Cuffee keeps his word to the letter, and captures the pilgrims by the basketful, in spite of their claws. And black‐faced, woolly‐headed Aunt Lilly, the cook, shows her teeth, like ivory dominoes in an ebony box, as visions of white‐ snow‐like rice, cocoa‐nut milk, capsicum‐pods, and stewpans, pass in pleasing and appetising review before her; and ‘massa’ himself takes an extra pull at the cold‐sangaree jug, sleeps pleasantly, and dreams of the crab‐feast on the morrow.” [Illustration: THE WEST INDIAN LAND CRAB (_Gecarcinus ruricola_).]