4318 TueE ZooLoGisT—FEBRUARY, 1875. 
intention, he attached himself by the suckers to several large 
stones, weighing I dare say fourteen pounds or more. I lifted him 
up, stones and all, into my vasculum, which was partly filled with 
sea water. Shortly afterwards he had detached himself from the 
stones, and was adhering firmly in a corner of the vasculum. 
I frequently dashed out the water and changed it, with the view to 
cleanse him of shore impurities, without his moving. On one 
occasion, however, he watched his opportunity, loosed his hold, 
and was, by the aid of his arms and suckers, over the sides of the 
vasculum, down on the ground, and making for a crevice of the 
rock with great rapidity. A very considerable amount of instinct, 
even for a cephalopod, was displayed in this proceeding: firstly, 
finding that escape was hopeless, he apparently resigned himself 
to his fate; then discovering that facility was afforded for escape, 
he watched the right opportunity, embraced it, and attempted to 
reach the only spot available for shelter. Poor poulpe! he deserved 
his liberty, but I had never taken this kind of cuttle before, and the 
temptation to put him in spirits was great, which was soon done after 
he had been killed by immersion in fresh water. During this pro- 
cess he discharged a quantity of the characteristic ink, said by 
Mr. W. A. Lloyd to be only emitted during alarm or ill health. 
The following extract from a note which I addressed to ‘ Nature’ 
(vol. ix. p. 363), may be interesting to quote in this place, embodying 
an observation with reference to this fluid :— 
“On a recent visit to the Crystal Palace Aquarium, my friend Mr. Lloyd 
was good enough to dislodge a cuttle from its place of concealment, and the 
usual inky discharge followed as the creature shot across the tank. Mr. Lloyd 
states, in his interesting ‘ Handbook to the Marine Aquarium,’ that ‘The 
ink (which is viscid) does not generally become diffused through the 
water, as writing ink would be, but is suspended in the water in a kind of 
compact cloud till it gradually settles down and is dispersed in flakes.’ Now 
I quite think, with Mr. Lloyd, that this being the case it is difficult to 
perceive how, according to the generally received opinion, its retreat is 
covered by the ejected cloud. It seems to me more likely that this discharge 
is to divert the attention of a pursuer,—a dog-fish, for instance,—which 
would for the moment be startled by the sudden appearance of masses of dark 
colour in the water, and in the confusion the cuttle makes his escape.” 
I regard it as a somewhat analogous instance to that where the 
lapwing feigns lameness, to divert the attention of a person from 
the neighbourhood of its nest. 
The dimensions of my specimen were much more modest than 
those of the Newfoundland one recently reported (thirty-five feet !), 
mine being only twenty-one inches across. Each arm bore about 
