"But would they attack you?"
"Never, I t'ink," said the boatman. "Ze biggest of zem hasn't a beak large enough to take in a herring."
"Well," Colin said, "I suppose that really wasn't as exciting as it seemed, but I tell you, for a
while, I felt as if I was having all the thrill I wanted."
"You ought to try ze octopus, now," said the boatman with a chuckle; "zat is, if you've had enough of ze squids. It's early yet an' we might go after some of zose octopuses zat hunt crabs."
"I'm ready," said Colin. "They won't get me by surprise, like that squid did!"
The sun was near the horizon when Colin and the boatman landed on the rocky shore, and the sunset colors were gorgeous. But Colin did not want to run any chances of being caught napping, and he followed Vincente, watching every move. Presently the boatman stopped and pointed, like a dog flushing a covey of partridges.
About eight feet away was a crab of fair size, perhaps six inches across the shell. Half-way between where they stood and the crab, right on the edge of the water, was a small octopus with its large, glaring, green eyes fixed on the crab. This was at first the only sight Colin could get of the creature, but by looking into the water closely, he was able to make out the vague shape of the octopus. The cuttlefish had changed from its natural color to the exact hue of the sandy bottom on which
it was crawling, and it was advancing so slowly that its progress could hardly be seen.