“Cephalopod” or “Head-footed” is the distinguishing name for this sub-class of Molluscs.
Very unpleasant creatures they are to tackle—more particularly those described by the familiar titles of “Octopus,” “Squid,” and “Devil-fish.” More particularly too when an individual of large dimensions has to be reckoned with.
The species that make their home near British shores seldom reach any great size. They cannot for a moment be compared with the great creatures of warmer climes; still less with the monsters of Ocean’s depths. Yet it is not desirable to have a hand or a foot in their tenacious grip.
Most of us have seen small specimens in an aquarium—evil-looking at the best. Sometimes individuals of the large species visit us from a distance, though they probably do not take up their abode by choice in our neighbourhood.
The body of a cuttlefish, like the bodies of most Molluscs, is enwrapped in a loose mantle, which in this instance is of strong and muscular make, perpetually enlarging and contracting. From the one opening in the mantle emerges the head, with two large eyes and a mouth; and round the latter, which generally boasts a sharp beak like that of a parrot, spring eight or ten long lissom powerful “arms” or limb-like tentacles, each furnished with a row of suckers, which in the smaller kinds look rather like buttons.
Through the opening at its neck the creature draws in and pours out water—breathes it in and out, in fact. When in repose, this breathing goes on quietly and automatically. But if the animal wishes to move, it forces the water out in a violent spurt through what is called the “siphon,” always in a direction opposite to that in which it intends to go. So great is the force thus employed that the cuttlefish rushes with wonderful speed, often with lightning-like rapidity, through the water.
While not protected by outside armour, like limpets and oysters, it really does secrete a shell; but the shell is inside instead of outside the mantle, stiffening the latter, though not protecting it from injury. In its case, however, the weapons of offence are sufficient, and there is less need for defensive armour.
In the cuttlefish we have a very tiger of the ocean, haunting vast areas in numbers which cannot be calculated.
One or two kinds are known which prefer to live solitary lives, but usually they herd together. Woe betide all weaker creatures where they abound! Once caught in those powerful arms, within reach of the fierce beak, no chance for them remains. Molluscs, crabs, fishes, all alike fall victims to this ruthless destroyer. It is said that the cuttlefish, like its striped prototype on land, will kill when not hungry for the pure pleasure of killing.
The smaller species are a principal article in the diet of dolphins and of codfishes. But the giants of the race would be in all cases too much for these puny foes.