One of the crew, who was an experienced fisherman, told them
all to keep perfectly still as the fellow was going ashore among the
rocks, which those creatures sometimes do; but for what purpose is not
known.
The fisherman was correct, for in a few moments they saw one of the
powerful tentacles reach up and grasp a rock which was just bare at
low water. A party of fishermen near by, were called to assist in the
capture. They were armed with oars, spears, guns and boat hooks and
formed in a circle outside the dangerous brute, where they began yelling
and splashing the water with their weapons in order to prevent its
returning to the sea and to drive it upon the shore. It moved toward
the beach, only a few yards distant, and whenever it was submerged
discolored the water almost to inky blackness. At last, harrassed on all
sides, it put its slimy tentacles on the gravelly beach. Its round,
pudgy body was no sooner out of the water, than an expert, in the
person of a half naked fisherman, rushed in and struck it a blow on the
head with a heavy club dexterously leaping away in time to avoid the
waving tentacles. At every blow, all the colors of the rainbow could be
seen glowing through the body of the octopus. Once it lifted its
powerful tentacles, clinging to the suckers of which were stones and
gravel and either in pain or anger, hurled them in all directions.
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