The beak of this immense fish—which could not have been much larger than the one we were contemplating from the deck of the Seamew—was as big as a six-gallon keg.
No animal can have a more formidable appearance, or a more deadly grasp, than these squid. It would seem as though the long, flexible, muscular tentacles were a sufficient means of defense and offense, without their being armed with the terrible suction cups.
These cups have a serrated edge like a handsaw, and are used for anchors as well as to secure prey. They cling with the greatest tenacity, it being easier to tear away an arm from the body of the squid, than to force the beast to give up its hold. It has all the desperate nature of a bulldog.
The beak, or jaw, is provided with terrible teeth, and even the tongue is covered on the upper part by a horny bed, bristling in the center with a series of recurving teeth, while its edge is armed with three other erect teeth, which are slender and hooked. A man might as well put his hand into a knitting machine and expect to take it out unscarred, as to risk a hand in the jaws of a squid. Those teeth tear the creature’s food to shreds.
And one other characteristic the squid possesses which gives it advantage over both enemy and prey. When excited, and at will, it can eject a substance like ink—indeed, it was used by the ancients as ink—by which it clouds the sea, and so often escapes an enemy. Its own eyes being of a phosphorescent nature, it can see well enough through the haze of this cloud of ink, therefore its prey cannot escape. Besides, its fishing-arms being three times the length of its other tentacles, the squid can “fish a long way from headquarters.”
This ink of the squid, or cuttle-fish, when dried, is used in water-color painting, and is known by the name of “sepia.” It is practically indestructible.
Now, all this by the way of introducing the squid. The Seamew crept by the creature and I, for one, was not sorry to see it finally disappear. And from what the men told about the cuttle-fish I judged that it would have been the part of unwisdom for Mr. Barney to have fired at the creature.
“Lemme tell you,” said old Job Perkins, leaning on the rail beside me. “Them ain’t critters to fool with. I know. I been there and learned.”
“Did you ever get real close to a big squid, Job?” I asked him.
“Big enough and near enough to suit me,” he said, wagging his head and expectorating over the rail. “I went up against a reef-squid once—in the Galapagos, it was—and that was enough for Job. Yes, sir!