made on the beach. Suddenly a shout broke my absorption in this task.
The son of Ugh! with the gold earrings, waving his arms from amidst
the surf on the reef, called to me to come and see a big _feke_. As
his companions were dancing about and yelling madly, I left the
laundrying of the small sea-devils and splashed two hundred yards
through the lagoon to the scene of excitement. Four of the crew had
attacked a giant devil-fish, which was hidden in a cave in the rocks.
From the gloom it darted out its long arms and tried to seize the
strange creatures that menaced it. The naked boatsmen, dancing just
out of reach of the writhing tentacles, struck at them with long
knives. As they cut off pieces of the curling, groping gristle, I
thought I heard a horrible groan from the cave, almost like the
voice of a human in agony. I stayed six feet away, for I had no
knife and no relish for the game.

Four of the long arms had been severed at the ends when suddenly the
octopus came out of his den to fight for his life. He was a
reddish-purple globe of horrid flesh, horned all over, with a head
not unlike an elephant's, but with large, demoniacal eyes, bitter,
hating eyes that roved from one to another of us as if selecting his
prey. Eight arms, some shorn of their suckers, stretched out ten
feet toward us.

The Marquesans retreated precipitately, and I led them, laughing
nervously, but not joyously. The son of Ugh! stopped first.

"_Ta! Ta! Ta! Ta!_" he cried. "Are we afraid of that ugly beast? I
have killed many. _Pakeka!_ We will eat him, too!"

He turned with the others and advanced toward the _feke_, shouting