It feels so good to take an afternoon walk along the banks of the Meuraksa estuary. I often walk there at least two or three times a week. Besides liking the beautiful scenery that spoils the eyes, I also like watching thousands of fiddler crabs playing on the sand. I feel as though I am observing a busy battlefield with cavalry vehicles moving past.
Those cute creatures run into small holes when I try to approach them. A few moments later they came out hesitantly again. "It's okay; it's just a stupid man who is amazed to see us." Maybe that's what they thought about me. After making sure that the situation was safe, only then did they come out of the hole without hesitation.
This one seems to be the biggest among them. It seems that this one is a female crab. I don't see it having one big claw like the males have. Maybe she's the queen.
But wait a minute! I noticed that the right claw was cut off. The initial assumption that the crab was a female was wrong. Because he was bigger, it was certain that he was the king. But don't worry, it's normal for a crab to have one of its claws cut off. It will grow back soon.
I aimed at another one. This one also had a deformed claw, although not as tragic as the king's. It seemed that the claw had been cut off by another crab in a duel.
There were constant duels among males to defend their territories or to compete for females to mate with. Losing a claw was preferable to losing one's life. On the sand, a male's dignity was consistently at stake.
