SECOND PART
CHAPTER 18: The Devilfish
(continued)
"Does anybody fish for 'em nowadays?" the Canadian asked.
"If they don't fish for them, sailors at least sight them.
A friend of mine, Captain Paul Bos of Le Havre, has often sworn
to me that he encountered one of these monsters of colossal size
in the seas of the East Indies. But the most astonishing event,
which proves that these gigantic animals undeniably exist,
took place a few years ago in 1861."
"What event was that?" Ned Land asked.
"Just this. In 1861, to the northeast of Tenerife and fairly
near the latitude where we are right now, the crew of the gunboat
Alecto spotted a monstrous squid swimming in their waters.
Commander Bouguer approached the animal and attacked it with blows
from harpoons and blasts from rifles, but without much success
because bullets and harpoons crossed its soft flesh as if it
were semiliquid jelly. After several fruitless attempts,
the crew managed to slip a noose around the mollusk's body.
This noose slid as far as the caudal fins and came to a halt.
Then they tried to haul the monster on board, but its weight
was so considerable that when they tugged on the rope, the animal
parted company with its tail; and deprived of this adornment,
it disappeared beneath the waters."
"Finally, an actual event," Ned Land said.
"An indisputable event, my gallant Ned. Accordingly, people have
proposed naming this devilfish Bouguer's Squid."
"And how long was it?" the Canadian asked.
"Didn't it measure about six meters?" said Conseil, who was stationed
at the window and examining anew the crevices in the cliff.
"Precisely," I replied.
"Wasn't its head," Conseil went on, "crowned by eight tentacles
that quivered in the water like a nest of snakes?"
"Precisely."
"Weren't its eyes prominently placed and considerably enlarged?"
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