LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XX, Issue 1621, 1 May 1879, Page 3

LITERATURE.

HANS AND THE DEVIL FISH,

A True Story of the Indian Ocean.

(Concluded ) ‘lt was a real pretty sight. The sides of the cave were covered with some hard, shining sheila that looked like glaze, and the jvay all sorts of colors shone about on it was wonderful, it puzzled me to tell where they came from ; but there wasn’t one you could mention but was shimmering and shining in that cave, the same as they do cn a mackerl'a sides when it’s took out of the water.

‘The sea was still as a pond, but very deep, for there was no seeing to the bottom, even in that clear water; but it looked so cool and pleasant that I thought I’d take off my clothes and give them a rub, for they were not very clean. ‘ There was a ledge of rock on one ride, something like a shelf ; toward tho entrance it got very narrow, and came to nothing. The other way it became wider, and led to the back of the cave, where there was a sort of beach, which ran further up than I could see, for it was darkish there, being a long way from the opening. ‘ I got out on this ledge and stripped, and soon had my things washed nice and clean. Then I thought I would take a swim, so in I went, splashing and diving and carrying on like a child. It were good fun, sir, that were, but it weren't fun when I cams up again cdJ lookod about me ; for my boat, that I’d left fastened to the led;o was gone gone clean out of sight, as if it had never been there at all.

‘ It made ma feel a bit queer, and I rubbed the water out of my eyes, thinking I must have got blinded like ; but no —look as I would, there wan no boat, and nothing to show where she’d gone. ‘lt takes a long while telling, sir. but it wasn’t ten seconds after I was out of the water before I was down by the stretcher I’d jammed into a crack of the rock ; and I weren’t nme too soon, for the rope was just slipping of the end when I finished it, the stretcher itself being all bent down on one side, though I’d put it upright when I got out of the boat. ‘ There was no doubt now where she’d gone. She’d gone down, and I began hauling in my bothering all the while what

1 hc’ i gone down for • and I d i lenty o. time to think about it, for, haul as 1 would, the boat never stirred. There she was, ba-d and fast, and 1 might as well have been pulling against the living rock, for all the good it did, ‘lt was not exactly a comfortable fix to be left in that cave without tho chance of getting out again, and when I found I could not stir the boat, I began to think I might have to stay there a goodish while ; for, though some of the crew would be sure to find it, or the German to look ivund in a day i r two. • didn’t make up my mind to bo waiting for them till I saw there was no chance of getting out any other way. ‘ Just behin d where I stood the waves had made what we call a wind-hole, but it wa°n’t so wide as d common chimney, and it would take a longish jump to gob to it, and no good then, for it narrowed at the top till you con'd only just see tho light coming through. ‘I was looking round, thinking I’d fasten tho rope safe, and then go up to the beach end, when I felt a jerk, and. before I could pull, up came the boat again, close to my feet. ‘“You’re oorno ac you went,” says I; “but no v I’ll keep you safe.” an II stooped down to lay ho’d of her, when there happened tho awfulest thing that I ever heard or dreamed of. ‘ Straight up on the water, not three feet away from me, rose two great, dripping arms. There was never a splash, never a bit of noise; but for tho drops of water falling into the sea ; bfit higher and higher those awful things came* up out of the water, a clear eight feet, and then they turned themselves and bent towards me. ‘ I gave a yell, and jumped hack, for they seemed as if they’d almost touch me. I was scared out of my senses with terror ; t and, instead of turning to the right, which ; would have led me to the broad edge, and so on to the beach, I sprang to the left; and there I was, standing on a hit of shelf, the rook behind me slippery as g’ass, and straight below me the still, green water, looking as Veautlful as you can fancy, and those two horrible arms waving and creeping nearer and nearer. ‘ If once they touched me, I was a dead man—l knew that well enough. I don’t think I should have been scared to die if it came straight forward, by drowning, or any regular seaman’s chance 5 but to bo drawn into the water by those hofrible clammy arms, and packed to pieces almost before I was dead by the creature they belonged to—it took the heart out of me, sir, I don’t deny. ‘ I kept baeking close against the rock, edging away as far as ever I could, when up came the boast itself, and I could see his ctuel bc-ak, and the frightful look of him, as he put his arms closer toward me. With another scream—for I was off my head with fright—l turned and made a spring at the windhole. However I reached it I <l.d not know; bub it was my only chance, and somehow I did it. Up I went, sweepfashiou, but I could not get far—it was too narrow, and, squeeze oud push as I might, I could not got on. ‘ Ever so far above me I could see the sky through the opening at tho top of the bole, and some bits of grass and leaf waving about against the light, ever so pretty I wasn’t thinking of such th ; ngs, biff I took notice of them for all that, afid can see them now. if I shut my eyes, just as they Were growing then, when I did not think I should ever see sky or grass again, * I suppose i had been in that hole about t n minutes, for I’d done all I knew to get on, and gave it up as a bad job, and was thinking that if I was out of the creature’s way I might stick there a good bit, and., then, perhaps, drop and make a inn for it ab the far end ot the cave. But it was a desperate chance, sir, for those beasts don’t give up a thing when once they have set themselves to get it. They wUI stop and wait as patient as you like, but you d >n’t tire them, and they’ll stop and watch you go down before them, sheer wore out and b ;at. ‘ I was thinking of this, when something cold, soft and sticky touched my foot. For a moment I did not think what it was, hut up it came, slowly, crawling above my ankle. And then another cold, soft, sticky thiog got roulld the other side, and climbed above my knee, and clung to me tight—tight as death. And then I knew that the creature had got h Id of me at last and t“ e horrible arms were clinging and sucking at my leg. ‘ I screamed then, sir. Howl did scream; and how I tried to kick them off and get my leg 1 I might just as well have tried to kick off my skin ; close as my skin they stuck to me, and swayed as T kicked, always loose and easy, but still with a steady pull toward the sea. They did not drag hard ; the creature seemed in no hurry —he knew he’d got it all his own way, and was willing to take his time. But, though the drag was not powerful, it never loosed the strain, and I had to cling to the rock, and get my elbows on a ledge and bear against it. ‘How long I staid there I don’t know—it seemed hours and hours, but it couldn’t have been lons; —not many minutes. I suppose ; and all the time I was screaming like a woman might have done for tho horror of it, when the light at the top of the hole, and the sky and the waving grass were shut out, and I was all in the dark. ‘ “ Hallo ! Who’s there ?’ hailed a voice ; and then I knew that our skipper was aloft, and help near. * I told him as well as I could, for I was pretty night beat, and the creature was pulling now with a harder strain. ‘ “Caught by a devil fish!” shouted the skipper to his men ; and his voice came to me as from a long way off. “ Hold on to him !” he cried to me, putting his mouth to the hole. “ Don’t let him go—we’il bo down in a minute.” ‘And so they were; for the Cingalese took a dive from the top, and were up at the entrance of the cave almost before he had done speaking. Tho others weren’t long after’em—they were round in tho whaleboat pretty quick, and never a sound did I hear like the mude of the beat of their oars, that brought me help and life. ‘But the Cingalese and Malay fellows were afraid to tackle the brute, though it takes a lot to frighten those divers, they being accustomed to queer things under the water ; but when they saw what had got me, not one of them would venture into tho cave. They harpooned him at last—got one from tho whaleboat—and then cut him up with creases and swords,' ‘ It was lucky for you that help was near,” I remarked as he paused, ‘You may say that, sir ; but it has always seemed to mo something more than just luck.’ * You are right. Hans. But how was it they wore on the cliff just then ?’ ‘ They’d gone prospecting for the cave, just as I had, aud come to tho wdndhole as they worked along the top of the rocks. The skipper was for one of the men trying to get down it, but they said it was no use ; and while they were talking they heard me scream ’ ‘ So that was the end of tho octopus—he was cut up by the divers ?’ ‘ Yes, sir—cub up and taken to the China market with the other things, and tho skipper pave m-- half of what he sold for ; so, with that and the twenty dollars f r finding tho cavo, the trip turned out pretty well for me. Can you gue.-s his weight, sir?’ and Hans looked at me inquiringly. ‘ No, ’ If aid ; ‘wh \t was it ?’ ‘Four hundred weight, or rather over,’ replied tho old man, slowly, as he untied tho leather bag, which all thU time ho had been holding. ‘ Look at those, sir,’ ho continued, as he took out three or four brownish-gray things, rather like small tea saucers in shape, and measuring three inches ia diameter, and then another, looking like the dark beak of a largo bird —hard, horny and sharp. I took them in my hand and examined them. * What’s the size of that, sir, do you reckon?’ said the old man, watching me attentively, as I turned over the beak-shaped thing* ‘ Three or four inches across, by seven or eight from root to point,

1 llUiht yo i are, sr .<m 1)- eiglit. t»--i it. Not a nice thing to have buri A i .1 <»u llo’h, and sucking you to pieces ’ * Why, what is it ? And what are these ?’ and 1 took u > i.he gray nan •< rs. ‘ Tha’’s the creature’* 1> ah, and those are the things on his • run that he h >lds on by sort of suction, you knov, sb'.’ ‘ By Jove !’ I ex laimed.

Somehow, until then I had listened to the story without exactly believing it—certain allowance for sailor evagg rat on had lingered in my mind ; but as I held t.he-ie relics, it sudd'nly fla L hed upon me what manner of creature it must have been in ife, the dried remains of which were yet so terrible,

‘ When we had got the brute on board,’ saik Hans, ‘I cut those off him I donh'ed if them as didn’t see him would believe the bigness of him if it weren’t for them.’ ‘I dare say not—l don’t th nk 1 did,’T answere 1, still staging at the horrid beak and strong, tough suckers and r alizin/, as I gaz’d, the enormous power f f the spider-like 'reature, «vith »ta eight gigantic a' ins covered ~ith those dreadful instruments. ‘ Well, Hans, you had an escape 1’ I said at last, as I gave back the relics. ‘ Indeed I had ; and if ever man had cause to thank the Lord for saving him from a horrible death, I had that day when the devil fish got hold of me, ’ And the old fellow reverently lifted his cap as he looked up to the deep blue sky above us. While wo were talking our “old man’ had passed along the deck, and that evening at dinner he said to me : * Was Hans telling yon his devil-fish story this afternoon ? T thought I heard a word or two as I passed.’ * Yes, sir,’ I replied ; 'and a very queer story it is ’ * Rut none the less a true one/ said the Chptain. ‘I happened to come across the skipper he was sailing with a few months after he had told me the adventure I don t generally take much heed of sailers’ yarns, but he was so accurate in his description of the cave—l have been there twice mys'lf— that it made me curious to know whether he had exaggerated the rest to make a good yarn ; so I got the skipper to talk about it. and his account of the creature tallied exactly with Han’s, and one of the Malays who had killed it was present also, and bore him out. They did not know I had heard about it from Haus, so it was independent evidence, and proved the truth, or else I had my doubts, I’ll own.’ f So bad I till I saw those remains ; but the truer a thing is the stranger is it. What would people at home say to it ?’ ‘ldon’t know, I'ob rts; bat when you have knocked ah out these seas as long as I have, you will know that there are queerer things in them than anyone could invent. Anyhow, there is no doubt that Hans’s story is true, and though shorn-going folks may doubt, you will not find it hard to be credited by an old sailor in the Indian Ocean.’