'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.

[Illustration: OCTOPUS CAUGHT AT SANTA CATALINA, TWENTY-TWO FEET ACROSS.

_By permission of Mr. Chas. Fredk. Holder._]

[Illustration: SQUID CAUGHT AT SANTA CATALINA, 20 FEET IN LENGTH.

(In Newfoundland a species reaches 70 feet.)

_By permission of Mr. Chas. Fredk. Holder._]

Suddenly, as a wave washed it within a few feet of the crab, two of the
tentacles darted out so swiftly that Colin could scarcely follow the
move until they were upon the crab, the rest of the body of the octopus
flattening itself upon the sand as though to secure a greater purchase.
The crab set both its claws into the soft flesh of the tentacles,
whereupon, with a series of horrible convulsions, the cuttlefish
lumbered entirely out of the sea and, with two or three repulsive and
sinuous gyrations, it forced itself bodily over the crab. By this means
the outstretched membranes at the base of the tentacles smothered the
movements of the prey and prevented escape, while at the same time the
mouth and biting beaks were brought into position where they could find
a vital part.

"Do you want zat one as a specimen?" asked the boatman.

Colin was conscious inwardly that he would have preferred to have
nothing at all to do with the repulsive object, but as he had come out
in pursuit of an octopus, he would not, for the world, have shown the
white feather before the boatman.

"Yes, unless we find a bigger," he said, with an overdone assumption of
ease.

"I t'ink, sair," Vincente responded, "zat we'd better