I
Until the extraordinary affair at Sidmouth, the peculiar species
_Haploteuthis ferox_ was known to science only generically, on the
strength of a half-digested tentacle obtained near the Azores, and a
decaying body pecked by birds and nibbled by fish, found early in 1896
by Mr. Jennings, near Land's End.
In no department of zoological science, indeed, are we quite so much in
the dark as with regard to the deep-sea cephalopods. A mere accident,
for instance, it was that led to the Prince of Monaco's discovery
of nearly a dozen new forms in the summer of 1895, a discovery in
which the before-mentioned tentacle was included. It chanced that
a cachalot was killed off Terceira by some sperm whalers, and in
its last struggles charged almost to the Prince's yacht, missed it,
rolled under, and died within twenty yards of his rudder. And in its
agony it threw up a number of large objects, which the Prince, dimly
perceiving they were strange and important, was, by a happy expedient,
able to secure before they sank. He set his screws in motion, and
kept them circling in the vortices thus created until a boat could
be lowered. And these specimens were whole cephalopods and fragments
of cephalopods, some of gigantic proportions, and almost all of them
unknown to science!
It would seem, indeed, that these large and agile creatures, living
in the middle depths of the sea, must, to a large extent, for ever
remain unknown to us, since under water they are too nimble for nets,
and it is only by such rare unlooked-for accidents that specimens
can be obtained. In the case of _Haploteuthis ferox_, for instance,
we are still altogether ignorant of its habitat, as ignorant as we
are of the breeding-ground of the herring or the sea-ways of the
salmon. And zoologists are altogether at a loss to account for its
sudden appearance on our coast. Possibly it was the stress of a hunger
migration that drove it hither out of the deep. But it will be,
perhaps, better to avoid necessarily inconclusive discussion, and to
proceed at once with our narrative.
The first human being to set eyes upon a living _Haploteuthis_--the
first human being to survive, that is, for there can be little doubt
now that the wave of bathing fatalities and boating accidents that
travelled along the coast of Cornwall and Devon in early May was due
to this cause--was a retired tea-dealer of the name of Fison, who was
stopping at a Sidmouth boarding-house. It was in the afternoon, and he
was walking along the cliff path between Sidmouth and Ladram Bay. The
cliffs in this direction are very high, but down the red face of them
in one place a kind of ladder staircase has been made. He was near
this when his attention was attracted by what at first he thought to
be a cluster of birds struggling over a fragment of food that caught
the sunlight, and glistened pinkish-white. The tide was right out, and
this object was not only far below him, but remote across a broad waste
of rock reefs covered with dark seaweed and interspersed with silvery
shining tidal pools. And he was, moreover, dazzled by the brightness of
the further water.
In a minute, regarding this again, he perceived that his judgment was
in fault, for over this struggle circled a number of birds, jackdaws
and gulls for the most part, the latter gleaming blindingly when the
sunlight smote their wings, and they seemed minute in comparison with
it. And his curiosity was, perhaps, aroused all the more strongly
because of his first insufficient explanations.
As he had nothing better to do than amuse himself, he decided to make
this object, whatever it was, the goal of his afternoon walk, instead
of Ladram Bay, conceiving it might perhaps be a great fish of some
sort, stranded by some chance, and flapping about in its distress. And
so he hurried down the long steep ladder, stopping at intervals of
thirty feet or so to take breath and scan the mysterious movement.
At the foot of the cliff he was, of course, nearer his object than
he had been; but, on the other hand, it now came up against the
incandescent sky, beneath the sun, so as to seem dark and indistinct.
Whatever was pinkish of it was now hidden by a skerry of weedy
boulders. But he perceived that it was made up of seven rounded bodies,
distinct or connected, and that the birds kept up a constant croaking
and screaming, but seemed afraid to approach it too closely.
Mr. Fison, torn by curiosity, began picking his way across the
wave-worn rocks, and, finding the wet seaweed that covered them thickly
rendered them extremely slippery, he stopped, removed his shoes and
socks, and coiled his trousers above his knees. His object was, of
course, merely to avoid stumbling into the rocky pools about him, and
perhaps he was rather glad, as all men are, of an excuse to resume,
even for a moment, the sensations of his boyhood. At anyrate, it is to
this, no doubt, that he owes his life.
He approached his mark with all the assurance which the absolute
security of this country against all forms of animal life gives its
inhabitants. The round bodies moved to and fro, but it was only when he
surmounted the skerry of boulders I have mentioned that he realised the
horrible nature of the discovery. It came upon him with some suddenness.
The rounded bodies fell apart as he came into sight over the ridge,
and displayed the pinkish object to be the partially devoured body of
a human being, but whether of a man or woman he was unable to say.
And the rounded bodies were new and ghastly-looking creatures, in
shape somewhat resembling an octopus, and with huge and very long and
flexible tentacles, coiled copiously on the ground. The skin had a
glistening texture, unpleasant to see, like shiny leather. The downward
bend of the tentacle-surrounded mouth, the curious excrescence at the
bend, the tentacles, and the large intelligent eyes, gave the creatures
a grotesque suggestion of a face. They were the size of a fair-sized
swine about the body, and the tentacles seemed to him to be many feet
in length. There were, he thinks, seven or eight at least of the
creatures. Twenty yards beyond them, amid the surf of the now returning
tide, two others were emerging from the sea.
Their bodies lay flatly on the rocks, and their eyes regarded him with
evil interest; but it does not appear that Mr. Fison was afraid, or
that he realised that he was in any danger. Possibly his confidence
is to be ascribed to the limpness of their attitudes. But he was
horrified, of course, and intensely excited and indignant at such
revolting creatures preying upon human flesh. He thought they had
chanced upon a drowned body. He shouted to them, with the idea of
driving them off, and, finding they did not budge, cast about him,
picked up a big rounded lump of rock, and flung it at one.
And then, slowly uncoiling their tentacles, they all began moving
towards him--creeping at first deliberately, and making a soft purring
sound to each other.
In a moment Mr. Fison realised that he was in danger. He shouted again,
threw both his boots, and started off, with a leap, forthwith. Twenty
yards off he stopped and faced about, judging them slow, and behold!
the tentacles of their leader were already pouring over the rocky
ridge on which he had just been standing!
At that he shouted again, but this time not threatening, but a cry
of dismay, and began jumping, striding, slipping, wading across the
uneven expanse between him and the beach. The tall red cliffs seemed
suddenly at a vast distance, and he saw, as though they were creatures
in another world, two minute workmen engaged in the repair of the
ladder-way, and little suspecting the race for life that was beginning
below them. At one time he could hear the creatures splashing in the
pools not a dozen feet behind him, and once he slipped and almost fell.
They chased him to the very foot of the cliffs, and desisted only when
he had been joined by the workmen at the foot of the ladder-way up the
cliff. All three of the men pelted them with stones for a time, and
then hurried to the cliff top and along the path towards Sidmouth, to
secure assistance and a boat, and to rescue the desecrated body from
the clutches of these abominable creatures.