136 The Cuttle-fish or Squid 



which line the inside of each of the eight tentacula 

 and the ends of the two long ones, has a row of claws 

 like those of a tiger's set round its inner edge. And 

 when a victim touches one of those tentacles the suckers 

 cling and automatically the claws begin to tear, so 

 that a speedy journey down the gulf in the centre of 

 the group of arms must come as a sweet relief from the 

 sensation of being devoured by many mouths at once. 



In the matter of food they are, like most of the 

 deep-sea folk, without any vulgar prejudices. What- 

 ever they get that is eatable is the thing they want, 

 nor do they waste time and trouble in selection. 

 Presumably, though the study of these curious creatures 

 bristles with difficulty, different species inhabit different 

 depths, but nearly all the larger kinds prefer deep 

 waters, say one hundred fathoms or so, while the small 

 ones like the Octopoda keep near the surface. 



Coming to the largest of all, the gigantic Cuttle- 

 fish, several very curious facts present themselves at 

 once. The first is that as far back as the day of 

 Aristotle, Pliny, and ^Elian, the gigantic Cuttle-fish 

 was fairly well known and described. Pliny, indeed, 

 tells a story which, knowing what we know of the 

 habits of the Cuttle-fish as distinct from the Octopoda, 

 savours of the incredible. While he was consul in 

 Spain, he says, one of these monsters acquired the 

 bad habit of coming ashore by night and plundering 

 the salt-fish warehouses. It came once too often, 

 and was slain. Being brought under Pliny's notice 

 he conceived a joke. He caused the head to be cut 

 off, and a cask of fifteen amphorae capacity was filled 

 with it (somewhat larger than a sugar hogshead, we 

 must suppose). This he sent to his friend Lucullus 

 in Sicily to grace one of his memorable banquets, 

 adding that he knew his love for fish. He also adds 



