CUTTLE FISH.
Strange and monstrous as are the forms of many of the creatures that inhabit the deep, there are perhaps none more so than those belonging to that division of the class Cephalopoda, called Sepia or Cuttle-fish. But before we go any further let us enquire what is meant by a Cephalopod. Our readers have already learned that Gasteropod means stomach and foot, and that acephalous means headless; now here we have a word which takes a portion of each of the others, cephal—head, and peda, or poda—a foot, consequently ceph-a-lo-po-da, is a class of molluscous animals which have their feet, or organs of motion, arranged around the head, something, you may suppose, like that celebrated hero of nursery rhymes,
“Tom Toddy, all head and no body.”
Only our bag-shaped Mr. Sepia, with his great round staring eyes, and numerous legs or arms, whichever you please to call them, all twisting and twining about like so many serpents, is a much more formidable looking individual. A strange fellow is this altogether; he has a shell, but he does not use it for a covering, he carries it inside of him, and it serves the purpose of a sort of back-bone; it is horny and calcarious, light and porous, as our readers well know, having most likely often used it to take out unsightly blots, or erase mistakes in their copy or cyphering books.
When Mr. Sepia walks abroad, he sticks his little round body upright, so that his eyes, and mouth, which is armed with a parrot-like beak, are brought close to the surface over which he passes, while his long twining legs go sprawling about in all directions; on the insides of these legs are a great number of small circular suckers, by means of which the animal can fix itself to any object so tightly that it is almost impossible to detach it without tearing off part of the limb. Woe be to the poor unfortunate fish that chances to come in its way; the snaky arms are thrown around it, and made fast, and away goes the cephalopod for a ride, eating on the road to lose no time, on the finny steed that carries it. In some species each of the suckers has a hook in the centre, which of course renders the hold yet firmer, and no doubt adds to the disagreeable sensation which their tight compression must cause; it is likely that these hooks are intended to retain the hold of soft and slippery prey, which might otherwise be too agile for the “ugly customer,” that would affectionately embrace it. But Mr. Sepia, though well armed in front, is rather open to attacks in the rear of his soft naked body; to provide for such an emergency, he is furnished with a little bag of inky fluid, which he squirts out in the face of his pursuer, and escapes under cover of the cloud; this is the substance used by painters, and called sepia, whence the generic name of the mollusks which produce it.
In the British seas none of these cephalopods attain so large a size as to be formidable to man, as they do in warmer climates. It was asserted by Dens, an old navigator, that in the African seas, while three of his men were employed during a calm in scraping the sides of the vessel, they were attacked by a monstrous Cuttle-fish, which seized them in its arms, and drew two of them under water, the third man was with difficulty rescued by cutting off one of the creature’s limbs, which was as thick at the base as the fore-yard of the ship, and had suckers as large as ladles; the rescued sailor was so horrified by the monster, that he died delirious a few hours after. An account is also given of another crew who were similarly attacked off the coast of Angola; the creature threw its arms across the vessel, and had nearly succeeded in dragging it down, and was only prevented doing so by the severing of its limbs with swords and hatchets. A diligent observer of nature has asserted that in the Indian seas Cuttle-fish are often seen two fathoms broad across the centre, with arms nine fathoms long. Only think, what a monster! with a body twelve feet across, and eight or ten legs like water-snakes, some six and thirty feet long. Well may it be said, that the Indians when they go out in boats are in dread of such, and never sail without an axe for their protection.
There is a story told by a gentleman named Beale, who, while searching for shells upon the rocks of the Bonin Islands, encountered a species of Cuttle-fish called by the whalers “the Rock-squid,” and rashly endeavoured to secure it. This cephalopod, whose body was not bigger than a large clenched hand, had tentacles at least four feet across, and having its retreat to the sea cut off by Mr. Beale, twined its limbs around that gentleman’s arm, which was bared to the shoulder for the purpose of thrusting into holes of the rocks after shells, and endeavoured to get its horny beak in a position for biting. The narrator describes the sickening sensation of horror which chilled his very blood, as he felt the creature’s cold slimy grasp, and saw its large staring eyes fixed on him, and the beak opening and closing. He called loudly for help, and was soon joined by his companion, who relieved him by destroying the Cuttle-fish with a knife, and detaching the limbs piece by piece.
There are several species of these cephalopods; the most generally distributed appears to be the Octopus vulgaris, or Common Cuttle-fish, which is sometimes found on our own shores, where also may be obtained the Common Sepiola, S. vulgaris, usually about three inches long, and the Officinal Cuttle-fish, S. Officinalis, which is about a foot in length; we give below small figures of each of these three species, to show the difference in the shape: the two last, it will be observed, have, in addition to the eight tentacles, which give the generic name Octopus, signifying eight, two long side arms, the use of which does not appear to be very clearly determined.
