THE SQUID AND OCTOPUS BARTSCH. 353 



This should be followed by the illustration of the sailing vessel 

 attacked by a huge octopus, also taken from Montfort, which is said 

 to be a facsimile of a painting that he saw in the Chapel of St. 

 Thomas, in St. Malos, a French seaport, and of which he relates the 

 following story, told by some of the crew of the vessel to which the 

 adventure it depicts happened (pi. 9) : 



The ship was on the west African coast. She had just talien in her cargo of 

 slaves, ivory, and gold dust, and the men were heaving up the anchor, when 

 suddenly a monstrous cuttlefish appeared on top of the water and slung its 

 arms about two of the masts. The tips of the arms reached to the mastheads, 

 and the w^eight of the cuttle dragged the ship over, so that she lay on her beam- 

 ends and was near being capsized. The crew seized axes and knives, and cut 

 nway at the arms of the monster ; but, despairing of escape, called upon their 

 patron saint, St. Thomas, to help them. Their prayers seemed to give them 

 renewed courage, for they persevered, and finally succeeded in cutting off the 

 arms, when the animal sank and the vessel righted. 



Now, when the vessel returned to St. Malos the crew, grateful for their de- 

 liverance from so hideous a danger, marched in procession to the chapel of their 

 patron saint, where they offered a solemn thanksgiving, and afterwards had a 

 painting made representing the conflict with the cuttle, and which was hung 

 in the chapel. 



But let Montfort, who was once painfully bitten in the side by an 

 octopus, whose bite, he says, is not poisonous, relate one of his own 

 experiences : 



On one occasion a huge mastiff which accompanied me on my explorations 

 drew my attention by his excited barking. When I came to the rocks I found 

 a cuttlefish, whose arms were 3 feet long. He was defending himself against 

 the violent attacks of the dog, an animal of immense size and strength and un- 

 daunted courage, which had already once saved my life when attacked by a 

 wolf. The dog ran around the cuttle, vainly attempting to seize the arms, 

 which followed him with singular dexterity and lashed him over the back like 

 whips. I looked on a minute in great astonishment at the dexterity of the 

 cuttle, which seemed full of rage, and showed no desire to retreat, though the 

 water was just behind it. When it saw me it seemed for the first time some- 

 what intimidated. There was a change in Its tactics. The arms struck out 

 less often, and it endeavored to drag itself to the shore. Seeing this, my brave 

 dog seemed encouraged. Watching a chance, he leaped within the arms and 

 fastened his teeth in one, quite near the body. 



Instantly four arms were drawn up and twined rigidly about the dog, who 

 struggled vainly to free himself, and, for once losing his courage, uttered pite- 

 ous howls and cries for help. IMeantime the cuttle, whose huge protruding 

 eyes seemed actually to flash fire, and whose body had turned many colors, from 

 dark violet to bright scarlet, was drawing itself with considerable speed toward 

 the water, dragging with little effort the heavy body of my struggling dog. 

 The rough rocky ground helped him to drag the weight along, by giving his 

 arms secure holds. 



Already the monster had reached the water side, when I could no longer 

 bear the sight, and rushed to the help of my faithful dog. I seized two of the 

 arms of the cuttle, and, bracing my feet firmly against a solid rock, pulled 

 with all my strength. I succeeded in tearing loose these arms. The animal 



