A walk of a quarter of a mile brought them to the bold headland on the northern side of the little bay in which the Titania lay at anchor. Here the dark, volcanic rocks ended in a ledge that projected about fifty yards from the general shore-line. At the extremity of the natural breakwater the bed of the lagoon dropped abruptly to a depth of five fathoms, although the bottom could be clearly discerned.
"Topping place for a bathe," suggested Dick.
"Quite," agreed Claverhouse, "that is, if it's all right. You'd better hang on till you know there's no danger."
"There are no sharks about," declared the lad.
"Take your word for it, old man," replied Claverhouse. "All the same, I wouldn't dangle my feet in the water if I were you. There may be ground sharks, and I believe they don't hesitate to snap at a pair of paddling trilbies."
"What's a fellow to do if he can't have a swim?" inquired Dick. "If——"
His words ended in a shout of horrified surprise as a long tapering tentacle shot out from under a projecting rock and securely fastened itself to the lad's bare ankle. Then another and yet another dark, slimy tentacle obtained a grip upon his leg.
Vainly young Beverley strove to free himself from the horrible embraces of a healthy young octopus. The creature's protruding eyes and parrot-like beak were plainly visible. Although its body was only about the size of a soup plate, the eight tentacles averaged a yard in length. Each of the legs that had obtained a grip were bringing into play the dozens of suckers with which they were provided, and the net result was that Dick was a prisoner. So precarious was his position, and so strong the tractive powers of the cuttle-fish, that he had to hold on with both hands to prevent himself being drawn off the slippery rock into the sea.
Claverhouse's first instinct was to grasp Dick's rifle and fire at the head of the hideous creature; but, thinking that he might possibly put a bullet through the lad's foot—which, owing to the refractive qualities of the water, was quite feasible—he whipped out his knife.
Leaning over the edge, he struck hard and deep. The keen steel sunk to the hilt with hardly any perceptible resistance, fairly between the vicious-looking eyes. Then, even as Claverhouse was in the act of withdrawing the blade, two tentacles attached themselves firmly to his hand, at the same time binding it to the foot of the now thoroughly-scared Dick.