about all that this creature had to reveal, that I 

 had nothing further to find in the way of its be- 

 havior. 



Observations eventually extending over many 

 seasons taught me much indeed. I learned that the 

 squid is short-lived — probably living for four 

 years at the most; that from hatching to the adult 

 age, notwithstanding its protective appearance, its 

 method of obscuring itself with its ink, its power 

 as a swimmer, it is the frequent and favorite food 

 of many large fishes; that the female probably 

 mates but once during a summer, yet deposits 

 several batches of eggs totaling more than fifty 

 thousand. 



And who that pretends to follow the profession 

 of naturalist could review such achievements 

 of fact without a feeling of complacent finality 4 ? 

 I hesitate to picture my own species of smugness 

 in this matter. My self-satisfaction, however, was 

 not to endure. I was eventually to arrive at that 

 stage of despair, common to the experience of 

 every naturalist, in which, previous familiarity 

 notwithstanding, it becomes only too evident that 

 any real acquaintance with the subject has only 

 barely begun. 



[343] 



