Part 23 (2/2)

Colin had no time for aim, but seeing a vague shadow below the boat, he allowed for the refraction of the water, and threw the small barbed spear with all his might. His cast was as clean as though he were experienced, and as he grasped the rope he cried to the boatman with a laugh:

”Beginner's luck!”

”Don't let him get to anyt'ing solid,” the boatman warned him. ”Jus'

keep him from zat an' you're all right. Don't play him like a fish. Jus'

pull him in.”

This was child's play, for the squid's queer method of going through the water offered no resistance and he was pulled up to the boat. But no sooner had the cephalopod come within reach than the tables were turned.

With the speed of light the creature swung over, threw two of its arms under the boat; one clasped the gunwale and others fixed themselves on the boy's bare arms, while two waved freely as though waiting a chance to twine around his neck and strangle him.

Colin yelled with fright. As the cold, clammy suckers crinkled themselves into his flesh, the skin all over his body seemed to creep in disgust. He had been bending over as he hauled up the rope and the squid's tentacles around his arms held him poised half out of the boat, his head not more than a foot and a half from the surface of the water, looking straight into the hypnotic, black, unwinking eyes of the sea-monster.

The instinct of fright arose. Using all his strength, he raised his right arm and grasped the tentacle that had been wound around his left arm. To his surprise he found that a moderate amount of force only was needed to pull the grasp of the tentacle free, and he released himself from the creature almost without difficulty. Nor, except for a slightly reddened spot on his arms, was there any outward evidence of the encounter.

Vincente reached down for the cephalopod, allowing it to wrap some of the tentacles about him, then pried its grasp from the boat with the handle of the gaff. He made no attempt to free himself from the squid, but as he stood still for a minute or two, the creature voluntarily released its hold, falling to the bottom of the boat.

”Zey haven't any strengt' at all out of ze water,” the boatman said, ”but while swimming zey have a good deal. See, ze whole body of zat squid isn't more zan two feet long, an' yet if he'd got a hold of you in ze water, specially with ze bigger suckers on ze t'ick part of ze arms, you might have had some trouble. Zose big fellows wit' bodies twenty feet long an' arms t'irty feet, mus' be one horrible t'ing to meet on a dark night.”

”But would they attack you?”

”Never, I t'ink,” said the boatman. ”Ze biggest of zem hasn't a beak large enough to take in a herring.”

”Well,” Colin said, ”I suppose that really wasn't as exciting as it seemed, but I tell you, for a while, I felt as if I was having all the thrill I wanted.”

”You ought to try ze octopus, now,” said the boatman with a chuckle; ”zat is, if you've had enough of ze squids. It's early yet an' we might go after some of zose octopuses zat hunt crabs.”

”I'm ready,” said Colin. ”They won't get me by surprise, like that squid did!”

The sun was near the horizon when Colin and the boatman landed on the rocky sh.o.r.e, and the sunset colors were gorgeous. But Colin did not want to run any chances of being caught napping, and he followed Vincente, watching every move. Presently the boatman stopped and pointed, like a dog flus.h.i.+ng a covey of partridges.

About eight feet away was a crab of fair size, perhaps six inches across the sh.e.l.l. Half-way between where they stood and the crab, right on the edge of the water, was a small octopus with its large, glaring, green eyes fixed on the crab. This was at first the only sight Colin could get of the creature, but by looking into the water closely, he was able to make out the vague shape of the octopus. The cuttlefish had changed from its natural color to the exact hue of the sandy bottom on which it was crawling, and it was advancing so slowly that its progress could hardly be seen.

[Ill.u.s.tration: OCTOPUS CAUGHT AT SANTA CATALINA, TWENTY-TWO FEET ACROSS.

_By permission of Mr. Chas. Fredk. Holder._]

[Ill.u.s.tration: SQUID CAUGHT AT SANTA CATALINA, 20 FEET IN LENGTH.

(In Newfoundland a species reaches 70 feet.)

_By permission of Mr. Chas. Fredk. Holder._]

Suddenly, as a wave washed it within a few feet of the crab, two of the tentacles darted out so swiftly that Colin could scarcely follow the move until they were upon the crab, the rest of the body of the octopus flattening itself upon the sand as though to secure a greater purchase.

The crab set both its claws into the soft flesh of the tentacles, whereupon, with a series of horrible convulsions, the cuttlefish lumbered entirely out of the sea and, with two or three repulsive and sinuous gyrations, it forced itself bodily over the crab. By this means the outstretched membranes at the base of the tentacles smothered the movements of the prey and prevented escape, while at the same time the mouth and biting beaks were brought into position where they could find a vital part.

”Do you want zat one as a specimen?” asked the boatman.

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