ctopi--officials, Keith supposed--were grouped.

Rapidly the creatures following the procession swam into the chamber.
Monstrously large as the place was, the floor soon was filled with the
thick flood of cuttlefish which swarmed in from many doors. Keith,
held with the other captives just to one side of the hole he had
entered by, began to think that they must soon refuse to let any more
in--when, to his surprise, he saw the latest arrivals begin to form a
gallery twenty feet above those on the ground floor, and, when this
was extended far back and completely filled, start yet another above
it--and another, and another.... In ten minutes the mighty hall was
crowded with countless layers of the cold-eyed monsters, each layer
angling up from the central dais so that all could see.

"God!" the commander thought. "Nothing but solidly-packed devil-fish
all the way to the dome! A slaughter pit! And we, of course, are to be
the cattle!"

* * * * *

Minutes passed. The throne was still empty, and the thousands in the
amphitheater seemed waiting for an occupant. Keith wished he was able
to close his eyes. The restless, never-ceasing weaving of the
countless tentacles in the levels above made the scene a nightmare.
Some waved slowly, others whipped excitedly, but never for an instant
did one pause. The movements were like the never-ceasing shifting and
swaying of the trunks and feet of elephants; in the dim glow the huge
chamber seemed to be filled with one fantastic, million-tentacled
monster that stared with its thousand eyes down on the forlorn group
of puny human beings....

As if at a command the arms of the octopi on the platform suddenly
began to weave in perfect unison in some weird ceremony. First they
swayed out towards the waiting captives, then they swerved slowly to
the empty throne. Then came a few quick, excited whippings; and once
more the long arms reached out at the small group at the entrance.
This went on for some minutes. Then, very suddenly, a creature swam up
from what must have been an opening in the floor onto the dais-throne.

Keith saw it well.

It was an octopus, a giant amongst octopi, and Wells knew at once it
was the ruler of the realm, the lord and master of the swarming
galleries and the cities of mound-buildings.

It was larger than its fellows by a full three feet. And, encircling
each great tentacle just where it joined the central mass of flesh,
was a