GANGSTERS OF THE SEA

Evening Star, Issue 22308, 7 April 1936, Page 11

GANGSTERS OF THE SEA

FISH THAT PREY ON OTHERS ARTILLERY OF THE OCTOPUS If vou like to fish in the warm seas and to .pry into the crevices of rocks it may happen to you that, forgetting prudence, you venture with your bare leg into a hole and withdraw it instantly as something soft and subtle, something creepy and inexorable, snatches it, writes M. L. Sondaz in Voila,’ Paris. What has happened? The tiny octopus which has been lying in wait tor a prey has fallen on you. Slightly disgusted and suspicious you follow its evolutions with interest, however. It advances slowly, creeping up your leg until it reaches your hip. It is now out of the water and you distinctly see its enormous round and bulging eye, full of wonderment at so unbelievable a conquest. At that point, however, the tiny octopus must have beaten a retreat provided your courage has not failed you and you have patiently waited tor it. But perhaps you have preferred to take the offensive yourself and have got hold of the creature by one of its legs, the cold, slimy contact of which makes you shiver, but gives you at the same time a certain' sensation of pleasure. In the face of such aggressiveness on your part the tiny creature at once becomes very stubborn. It contracts and engages its artillery in the battle. The artillery of the octopus consists of innumerable diminutive suckers covering the lower surface of its tentacles. Now the little monster is firmly clinging to you. its sucking apparatus is in action, and it gives you goose flesh. The eye is staring at you fixedly and by now you have discovered the large, greedy, angular mouth, similar to the beak of a parrot. This mouth forms one indivisible whole with the head to which the tentacles .are attached. Sever the head and the creature is dead. Let us hope, however .that you have taken the more charitable course of detaching the firm and vender arms from your horrified flesh, to which they cling like so many tiny vampires, and that, in view of the diminutive size of your enemy, you. have simply laughed and shrugged your shoulders and waited for it to realise that it is not the stronger of the two. For once a creature finds this out it takes to flight—unless it be of noble bred, like the lion or the fighting bull. There is nothing noble about your octopus, however, and in a jiffy it is back in the water, relieved at the turn things have taken. It is always wise to let a too beautiful prey go! There it swims head downward —being a “ cephalopod ” —or better, it progresses in the water moving backward by leaps and bounds that may seem amusing to you but which never fail to terrify its victims. Can you imagine a crab or small fish grappling with the monster which darts on its with its back? It is immediately paralysed with terror, and the octopus has but to pick it up like an over-ripe fruit. But are these the monsters of the sea, you wonder l ? Why, yes, they may not seem monstrous to you, but think of the tiny fish and molluscs, and —you might as well admit it—you are just a wee bit afraid of them youself. Not that I wish it to happen to you, but it may happen that, diving in the Pacific as do the pearl divers, you get hold not of the precious little shell, but of a fantastic being whose tentacles arc 10 or more feet long: the octopus

vulgaris. It is no joke to be attacked by it. The divers and fishermen know it, therefore they carry a knife with them and mercilessly - sever the ,mon-. ster’s head; that is, if they can, and if not it is just too bad for them, because thousands upon thousands of tiny suckers will get to work immediately, and very soon the terrorised and exhausted victim has lost his head himself. Firmly secured by the eight arms, stronger and more inexorable than any rope, he will slowly glide through the dark and icy water until, stiff and qold. he lands on the bottom where he will be slowly devoured. ' One seldom encounters a real giant octopus of the Octopus Apollyon species, however. You may safely assume that you never run this risk. This monster emerges only in great upheavals, like Zeus surrounded by thunder and lightning. He loved the . high seas, the desolate loneliness of the greatest of oceans, and the abysmal depths where he may meet a giant shark and engage in a titanic battle. The head .of such an octopus may attain a length of 10 or more feet, and each tentacle is about 40ft long’. Imagine the enormous, phantom-like, viscous mass, the cruelty of its staring eyes, and the beak capable of tearing the most resistant prey to pieces! And each sucker on the enormous tentacles has horny edges which cut deep into the victim’s flesh. B’ortunately these giants are rare, and this is the reason why their very existence is doubted. But the tales of seafaring men about long arms reaching out for the ropes, encircling the small craft, gliding over the' deck like hideous snakes—and this no doubt is the origin of all the tales about “ sea serpents ’’—are not altogether invented. They are visions and reminiscences of nights of death and horror, of typhoonson the high sea, and nightmares which are forgotten when the sun shines again, and relegated to the realm of dreams. We listen to them sceptically, but the mystery is easily explained. The violent storm agitates the water in the abysmal depths and disturbs their inhabitants. The irritated monster, aggressive and powerful, comes up to the surface and fearlessly attacks a small boat, either because it mistakes it for a shark or because it is attracted by the human odour. The only possible course to take is the prompt severance of the tentacles with an axe, otherwise the boat may capsize.

Smaller, but just as cruel, is the 10armed squid. Two of these arms are very long, and with them it seizes its prey, which is then conveyed, to the other eight arms. These close upon it and start sucking at once, all the while pushing it nearer and nearer to the mouth, in which the file-shaped tongue reduces it to hash, .-v