Tue ZooLocistT—FEBRUARY, 1875. 4819 
one hundred pairs of suckers, or about sixteen hundred suckers 
altogether! the largest measured one-fourth of an inch in diameter, 
and they diminished at the extremities to almost microscopic 
minuteness. “Ah!” said a Sark man who was by, “I wish 
you would kill all them nasty ‘devil-fish’ (he had Victor Hugo's 
name for them quite pat), for they do no end of damage in our 
lobster-pots.” I can quite imagine, from the great muscular 
development of the octopus, aided by its powerful and numerous 
suckers and formidable hard and curved beak, that even the stony 
carapaces of large lobsters and crabs would stand but a poor defence 
against its attacks. In consequence of the establishment of marine 
aquaria, the commercial value of octopus (like that of most other 
things now-a-days) has “ gone up,” for Mr. Lloyd tells me that as 
much as £2 is paid for a specimen, delivered alive and in good 
condition, at the Crystal Palace. 
There was a pretty little picture of a different kind in connection 
with this vestibule, seeming as though the botanical treasures of the 
island put in a plea not to be overlooked during one’s zoological 
ecstacies. Up above, and pendant from an arch-like surface of the 
rock, was a fine fern,—the one solitary object in sight,—upon which 
the rays of the sun were reflected, and which passed through it, 
lighting up the lovely bright green, as though it had been illuminated 
from behind. It was too high for me to recognise the species; but 
I think it was a Lastrea. Twice I went back with a stranger who 
was in the cavern, at the risk of being overtaken by the tide, to look 
at it, and we mutually agreed that, coming upon it suddenly after 
the subdued light and gay colours of the lower cavern, it reminded 
us of a transformation scene in a pantomime—only that it was a 
great deal more natural! 
My examination was limited to three or four days during one 
spring tide, but it would take very many days thoroughly to explore 
the treasures of the Gouliot Caverns; and the work can only be done 
at the extremely low spring tides, and not then unless there is a 
favourable wind. Although not unfamiliar with parts of our southern 
and western coasts—especially Tenby, Torquay, Ilfracombe, &c., 
of the fauna of which one is strongly reminded—all those places 
fade in comparison with these caverns. Happily several circum- 
stances combine to continue them as inexhaustible heirlooms to 
gladden the eyes of many future marine naturalists: jirstly, the 
physical conditions in which the inhabitants are placed,—protected 
