The decapod crustaceans (cray-fish) which inhabit our rivers and brooks, are long-tailed like the lobster, but in the torrid zone the river species all belong to the order of the short-tailed crabs, the most perfect and highly developed of the class. Some species even entirely forsake the water and spend their days on shore, not only on the beach, but far inland on the hills. When the season for spawning arrives, large numbers of these land-crabs set out from their mountainous abodes, marching in a direct line to the sea-shore, for the purpose of depositing their eggs, which are attached to the lower surface of the abdomen and are washed off by the surf. This done, they recommence their toilsome march towards their upland retreats, setting out after nightfall and steadily advancing until the dawn warns them to seek concealment in the inequalities of the ground or among any kind of rubbish, where they lie, until the stars again invite them to pursue their course. On their seaward journey, which they prosecute so eagerly that they suffer no opposition to deter them from their purpose, they are in full vigour and fine condition, and this is the time when they are caught in great numbers for the table, their flesh being held in high estimation; but on returning from the coast they are exhausted and unfit for use. [Illustration: LAND CRAB.] Wherever the West Indian Land Crabs make their home, their burrows are as thickly sown as those of a rabbit warren. Concealed during the greater part of the day in these subterranean abodes, they come out at night to feed, but are always ready to scuttle back at the least alarm. Should, however, their retreat be intercepted they show a bold front to the enemy, seizing him with one of their long claws, and then shaking off the limb at its junction with the body. As the claw retains its tension for some little time after this voluntary separation, the effect is the same as if the creature were still actively biting, and while the enemy’s attention is engaged with these troublesome pincers, the crab takes the opportunity to conceal itself in some crevice. As is the case with all crustaceans, a new limb soon sprouts out and repairs the loss of the discarded member. A singular species of land decapod, called the Fighting Crab from its bellicose propensities, possesses one large and one very little claw, which gives it a very strange and ridiculous appearance, particularly when, running along at full speed, it holds the large claw in the air, and nods it continually, as beckoning to its pursuer.