TWO DIANAS IN ALASKA 31 



longed to bathe, but it was far too cold as yet in these 

 waters to think of swimming. I should never want 

 to try it at any time, for that lurking terror, the 

 octopus, is not uncommon in the deep recesses of the 

 Vancouver rocks. That very morning as Cecily and 

 I paddled our boat round a jutting headland, where 

 the water was as clear as crystal right down to the 

 rocks below, we saw a small octopus swimming for 

 home, long arms and suckers extended, travelling 

 tail first, an odd method of locomotion. We hung 

 over the side, interested spectators, and as we did so 

 the long-armed horror seemed to turn the water around 

 it to an inky shade, hiding its whereabouts, making 

 it impossible for us to trace its course to its rocky 

 lair. 



The evenings were rather long on board the Nome 

 City. Had Cecily and I been enthusiastic card- 

 players the hours, I suppose, would have seemed too 

 few. Ralph and the Leader said it wasn't whist we 

 played, but some fearsome hybrid that made time 

 impossible to bear. So we took to reading aloud. It 

 is always rather interesting, I think, to see the sort 

 of literature individuals rush to if given free choice. 

 Ralph was very trivial, and mostly went in for French 

 novels, and when he read these got so tied up in 

 making expurgated editions we really were often 

 fogged as to what the tale was all about. He only 

 gave us what he liked, and " bowdlerized " the story 

 out of all sense. 



The Leader on the other hand never wearied of Max 

 Nordau, and read Degeneration aloud with gusto. 



