His thoughts flew like lightning and, being a resourceful boy, he instantly decided what to do.
He had kept his breath from a natural instinct and now with his free arm he dealt a swinging blow with the little axe in a direction which would not cause him to injure himself but might strike the clinging tentacle.
His one hope was that another of the flying arms might not reach him and secure his other arm, which fortunately was his right.
He suddenly felt a resistance and realized that he had struck something and hoped that it might be the tentacle of the octopus.
In another moment he felt the pressure on his arm and body relax and then realized that something had fallen from them.
He struck out vigorously with both arms, the pressure upon his lungs from having held his breath so long beginning to be unbearable.
Then he felt his right arm seized, the suckers on the tentacle pressing strong upon his muscles and seeming to draw the blood even under his clothing, and he knew that the baleful creature had again gotten a hold upon him.
He was able to clutch the hatchet in his left hand as the power gave out in his right, and at that moment he arose to the surface and drew a succession of deep breaths before another of those terrible arms seized him by the leg and drew him again under water.
In another instant, as he struck wildly at the eldritch creature that held him and felt the tension on his arm relax, everything became suddenly black.
The octopus had resorted to one of its natural tricks and had ejected a dense black fluid into the water which made it impossible for him to see anything.