CHAPTER XIV 



In Defe72se of Octopuses 



I FEEL about octopuses— as Mark Twain did about the devil- 

 that someone should undertake their rehabilitation. All writers 

 about the sea, from Victor Hugo down to the present, have 

 published volumes against them; they have been the unknow- 

 ing and unwitting victims of a large and very unfair amount 

 of propaganda, and have long suffered under the stigma of be- 

 ing considered horrible and exceedingly repulsive. No one has 

 ever told the octopuses' side of the story; nor has anyone ever 

 defended them against the mass of calumnies which have been 

 heaped on their peculiar and marvelously shaped heads. We 

 have convicted them without benefit of a hearing, which is a 

 most partial and unjust proceeding. I propose that octopuses, 

 and their near relatives the squids, are among the most wonder- 

 ful of all earth's creatures, and as such are deserving of our 

 respect, if not our admiration. 



My personal interest in octopi dates back to the moment 

 when I turned to climb out of the drowned ravine at the base 

 of the Inaguan barrier reef. I had reached the lower portion 

 of the final slope and was about to seize on a piece of yellow 

 rock to steady myself when I noticed that from the top of the 

 boulder was peering a cold dark eye that neither blinked nor 

 stirred. In vain I looked for eyeUds; the orb apparently be- 

 longed to the rock itself. 



Then suddenly, I felt a chill wave creep up my spine. Be- 

 fore my gaze the rock started to melt, began to ooze at the 

 sides like a candle that had become too hot. There is no other 

 way to describe the action. I was so startled at the phenomenon 



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