It is worthy of notice that the pearly nautilus and the allied fossil forms are without this means of concealment, which their strong external shells render unnecessary for their protection.
From the sac-like body containing the various organs, protrudes a head, globose in shape, and containing a brain, and furnished with a pair of strong, horny mandibles, which bite vertically, like the beak of a parrot. By these the flesh of prey is torn and partly masticated, and within them lies the tongue, covered with recurved and retractile teeth, like that of its distant relatives, the whelk, limpet, &c., by which the food is conducted to the gullet. Around this head is, as I have said, the organ which is equivalent to the foot in other molluscs—that by which the slug and the snail crawl—only that the head is placed in the centre, instead of in the front of it, and it is divided into segments, which radiate from this central head. These segments are very flexible, and capable of movement in every direction, and are thus developed into arms, prehensile limbs, by which their owner can seize and hold its living prey. That this may be more perfectly accomplished, these arms are studded along their inner surface with rows of sucking discs, in each of which, by means of a retractile piston, a vacuum can be produced. The consequent pressure of the outer atmosphere or water, causes them to adhere firmly to any substance to which they are applied, whether stone, fish, crustacean, or flesh of man.
But, although in all these highly-organised head-footed mollusks the same general build prevails, it is admirably modified in each of them to suit certain habits and necessities. Thus the octopus, being a shore dweller, its soft and pliant, but very tough body, having merely a very small and rudimentary indication of an internal shell (just a little "style") is exactly adapted for wedging itself amongst crevices of rocks. A large, rigid, cellular float, or "sepiostaire," such as Sepia possesses, or a long, horny pen such as Loligo has, would be in the way, and worse than useless in such places as the octopus inhabits. Its eight long powerful arms or feet are precisely fitted for clambering over rocks and stones, and as its food of course consists principally of the living things most abundant in such localities, namely, the shore-crabs, its great flexible suckers, devoid of hooks or horny armature, are exactly adapted to firm and air-tight attachment to the smooth shells of the crustacea.
Unlike the octopus, which is capable only of short flights through the water, the "cuttles" and "squids," such as Sepia and Loligo, are all free swimmers. For them it is necessary for accuracy of natation that their soft, and in the squids long bodies, should be supported by such a framework as they possess. In Sepia, the mantle-sac is flattened horizontally all along its lateral edges so as to form a pair of fins, which nearly surround the trunk. These fins could never be used, as they are, to enable the animal to poise itself delicately in the water by means of their beautiful undulations, which I have often watched with delight, if their attached edges were not kept in a straight line on either side. Then, these ten-footed or ten-armed genera have not, because they need them not, eight long, strong and highly mobile arms like those of the octopus, nor have they large suckers upon them. Whereas a great length of reach is an advantage to the octopus, animals which are purely swimmers, and which hunt and overtake their prey by speed, would be impeded by having to drag after them a bundle of stout, lengthy appendages trailing heavily astern. Their eight pedal arms are short and comparatively weak, though strong enough, in individuals such as are regarded on our own coasts as fullgrown, to seize and hold a fish or crustacean as strong as a good sized shore-crab. But, as compensation for the shortness of the eight arms, they are provided with two others more than three times the length of the short ones. These are so slender that they generally lie coiled up in a spiral cone in two pockets, one on each side, just below the eye, when the animal is quiescent, and are only seen when it takes its food. These long, slender tentacular arms are expanded at their extremity, and the inner surface of their enlarged part is studded with suckers—some of them larger in size than those on the eight shorter arms. As the food of these swimmers consists, of course, chiefly of fish, their sucking disks are curiously modified for the better retention of a slippery captive. A horny ring with a sharply serrated edge is imbedded in the outer circumference of each of them, and when a vacuum is formed, the keen, saw-like teeth are pressed into the skin or scales of the unfortunate prisoner, and deprive it of the slightest chance of escape.
The manner in which the eight-armed and ten-armed cephalopods capture their prey is similar in principle and plan, but differs in action in accordance with their mode of life. The ordinary habit of the octopus is either to rest suspended to the side of a rock to which it clings with the suckers of several of its arms, or to remain lurking in some favourite cranny; its body thrust for protection and concealment well back in the interior of the recess; its bright eyes keenly on the watch; three or four of its limbs firmly attached to the walls of its hiding place—the others gently waving, gliding, and feeling about in the water, as if to maintain its vigilance, and keep itself always on the alert, and in readiness to pounce on any unfortunate wayfarer that may pass near its den. To a shore-crab that comes within its reach the slightest contact with one of those lithe arms is fatal. Instantaneously as pull of trigger brings down a bird, or touch of electric wire explodes a torpedo or a mining fuse, the pistons of the series of suckers are simultaneously drawn inward, the air is removed from the pneumatic holders, and a vacuum created in each: the crab tries to escape, but in a second is completely pinioned: not a movement, not a struggle is possible; each leg, each claw is grasped all over by suckers, enfolded in them, stretched out to its fullest extent by them; the back of the carapace is completely covered by the tenacious disks, brought together by the adaptable contractions of the limb, and ranged in close order, shoulder to shoulder, touching each other; and the pressure of the air is so great that nothing can effect the relaxation of their retentive power but the destruction of the air-pump that works them, or the closing of the throttle-valve by which they are connected with it. Meanwhile the abdominal plates of the captive crab are dragged towards the mouth; the black tip of the hard horny beak is seen for a single instant protruding from the circular orifice in the centre of the radiation of the arms; and, the next, has crushed through the shell, and is buried deep in the flesh of the victim.
Unlike the skulking, hiding octopus, its ten-armed relative, the Sepia loves the daylight and the freedom of the upper water. Its predatory acts are not those of a concealed and ambushed brigand lying in wait behind a rock, or peeping furtively from within the gloomy shadow of a cave; but it may better be compared to the war-like Comanche vidette seated gracefully on his horse, and scanning from some elevated knoll a wide expanse of prairie, in readiness to swoop upon a weak or unarmed foe. Poised near the surface of the water, like a hawk in the air, the Sepia moves gently to and fro by graceful undulations of its lateral fins,—an exquisite play of colour occasionally taking place over its beautifully barred and mottled back. When thus tranquil, its eight pedal arms are usually brought close together, and droop in front of its head, like the trunk of an elephant, shortened; its two longer tentacular arms being coiled up within their pouches and unseen. Only when some small fish approaches it does it arouse itself. Then, its eyes dilate, and its colours become more bright and vivid. It carefully takes aim, advancing or retreating to such a distance as will just allow the two hidden tentacles to reach the quarry when they shall be shot out. Next, the two highest or central feet are lifted up, and the three others on each side are spread aside, so that they may be all out of the way of the two concealed tentacles, presently to be launched forth; and then, in a moment—so instantaneously that the eye of an observer, be he ever so watchful, can hardly see the act—this pair of tentacles, side by side, are projected and withdrawn, as if in a flash. The fish or shrimp has vanished, the suckers of the dilated ends of the tentacles having adhered to it, and left it, as they re-entered their pouches, within the fatal "cuddle," or embrace, where it is torn to pieces by the devouring beak.[ [7] ] This action of the tentacles of the decapods is the most rapid motion that I know of in the whole animal kingdom—not excepting even that of the tongue of the toad and the lizard. These long tentacles are not used when the food is within reach of the shorter arms.