Welsh Journals

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New Home for a Hermit by ROSALIE K. FRY THE TIDE WAS LOW and we were crossing the rocks below the Slip at Oxwich when our moving shadows caused a sudden panic in a rock pool-we heard a hollow plop as a small fish zig-zagged frantically for shelter, scattering prawns and startled crabs in its headlong flight to safety. But the commotion soon subsided, and as the ripples died away we watched the inhabitants of the underwater world return to their interrupted occupations fish and prawns came nosing out of hiding, anemones put out cautious tentacles and a string of rising bubbles hinted at some small activity in the depths of the seaweed forest. Even the sober winkles were quietly on the move again, their white and brown and yellow shells creeping purposefully along the smooth rock wall. But presently a gaily banded shell scuttled across the floor of the pool at a pace no winkle could hope to achieve, and we caught a tell-tale glimpse of the armoured legs of a hermit crab under the rim of the shell. As we turned it over the hermit flicked back into hiding, withdrawing its legs as far inside the shell as they would go, at the same time making a pathetic, but unsuccessful attempt to block the entrance with its large right claw-it was only too clear that the unfortunate creature had already outgrown its borrowed home and was badly in need of a new and larger shell. Beyond the pool a tangle of seaweed and shells had collected on a patch of shingle between the rocks. Leaving the hermit to its own devices, I searched this corner and soon found an empty whelk of the right size. I washed it well, rinsing out the sand and grit before putting it into the rock pool. Then, recapturing the hermit crab, I lay it on its back. After a couple of false starts and hasty retreats the claws and legs slid out at last, groping for the ground. But instead of the expected rock, they came in contact with the empty shell, lying invitingly, empty side uppermost. The hermit's interest was caught at once, and leaning far out of its cramped dwelling it seized the whelk with eager claws and pulled itself into a strategic position. It examined the new shell from every angle, turning it round to inspect the outside, then thrusting its claw deep inside, time and time again, exploring the interior and scooping out grains of sand that I had overlooked. I never saw a prospective tenant show keener interest in any property. Eventually, after long consideration, it took a firm grip of the new shell and drew itself close to the opening. And there it remained for several minutes, its sensitive feelers on the alert