02 South Sea Adventure

by Willard Price

  He idly wondered what had been caught in the trap. He walked to its edge and looked in.

  Then he got the start of his life. Two great eyes looked back at him.

  They were as big as dinner plates. Surely no living thing could have such great eyes. He must still be dreaming. This must be another nightmare.

  The eyes glowed with a ghostly green light. They seemed to have lamps behind them. They looked like green traffic signals, but of enormous size. They said, ‘Go!’ and Roger felt like going, but his legs were so weak that he could scarcely move.

  Suddenly the water in the pool shook as if agitated by some tremendous creature and the two circles of green flame came closer to Roger.

  He let out a terrified yell, but still could not run. He was glued to the spot as if hypnotized. That was the way it was in a dream. He must be dreaming.

  Hal came tumbling to his side. ‘What’s all the hollering about?’ he demanded angrily. ‘Why can’t you let a fellow sleep?’ Then he saw what Roger saw. Like Roger, he could

  hardly believe that it was real.

  ‘They look like eyes,’ he said. ‘They can’t be. No eyes ever came that big. They must be little schools of phosphorescent plankton - little creatures that float on the

  ‘You’re nuts!’ Roger blurted. ‘Plankton don’t swim in a circle, They’re eyes, and nothing else. Gosh, they look as big as manholes.’ He drew back as if afraid he would fall into the great green pools. ‘Look out! It’s coming!’

  The Thing lurched towards them a foot or two, sending them back in a panic. Its movements splashed tons of water out of the pool. Great black twisting things like enormous snakes went up into the air and then fell back.

  ‘A giant squid!’ cried Hal. He approached to get a better look. Suddenly a great arm snaked out towards him. He jumped back just in time to escape it - but both he and Roger were soaked with spray. ‘He’s splashing sea water,’ Roger said. ‘No. he’s squirting ink. We’re covered with the stuff. Don’t let it get into your eyes.’ They moved out of range.

  Roger said, ‘No wonder they call him the pen-and-ink fish!’

  ‘Yes, and it’s good ink. You can write with it. It’s like Indian ink. I remember something about an explorer who wrote a page in his logbook with squid ink.’ ‘See him thrash about. Won’t he come after us?’ ‘I don’t think he’ll come ashore.’ ‘But can’t he escape into the sea?’ ‘He could easily enough if he knew how. But he’s as stupid as he is big. I don’t suppose he’s ever been in a spot like that before and he doesn’t know what to make of it.’

  ‘I wish we could take him alive. Mr Bassin wanted one of these.’

  ‘He won’t get this one. We can only hope we’ll come up with another after we get back to bur schooner. There are lots of them in the Humboldt Current.’

  ‘That’s the current that flows up the coast of South America and then out towards these islands?’

  ‘Right. You remember that book we read about six young scientists on a balsa raft? They sailed from Peru to the islands on that current. They saw dozens of these things. They rise and float on the surface at night and sink down to great depths in the daytime.’

  The huge green eyes burned now bright and now dim as if someone inside were turning the lights up and down. Roger shivered.

  ‘Gosh, doesn’t he ever wink?’ He thought of the eight-armed monster he had wrestled with in the cave. Its eyes had been evil too, but small, and almost like human eyes. And they had not been phosphorescent like these. ‘Now I begin to see the difference between a squid and an octopus. I’ve always wondered.’

  ‘It’s more than the difference between eyes like plates and eyes like thimbles. The body of the octopus is a bag; the squid is shaped like a torpedo. He looks something like a giant fountain pen, and acts like one. And he has ten tentacles instead of eight. Two of the tentacles are extra long. And the cups that line the tentacles are not suction cups. They are edged with sharp teeth and very dangerous. They can actually cut Wire.’

  ‘Aren’t you putting it a little strong?’

  ‘Not a bit of it. On an expedition of the American Museum of Natural History scientists had the light steel wire cables used as fishline leaders cut in two by these tentacle teeth. So look out for them - unless you’re made of something tougher than wire.’

  As dawn came on and the darkness dissolved into grey light they could see the monster clearly. It completely filled the walled pool. In fact there was not room for its mighty arms, which lay sprawled over the rocks of the shore.

  Its torpedo-shaped body kept changing colour - from black to brown, from brown to tan, from tan to sickly white.

  The eyes were more than a foot across. They were even more terrifying than they had been at night. The green phosphorescence had faded out of them and they were now a deadly black like two dark caves out of which any horror might come. They were fixed upon Hal and Roger with savage hatred. The boys felt very small under that relentless unblinking gaze.

  ‘Nightmare of the Pacific!’ breathed Hal. ‘He deserves his name!’

  The tide had not entirely ebbed. But it had gone down enough so that there was very little water left in the rock-rimmed pool. The squid could easily have escaped while the tide was high. But, unaware of its danger, it had sunk as the tide ebbed until now it was locked between the rock walls.

  The water was black with ink expelled by the angry prisoner. Now and then it filled its body with water and ejected it like a rocket, but only succeeded in ramming its rear against the wall.

  ‘Look at the size of it!’ marvelled Roger. ‘It’s twenty feet if it’s an inch - just the body - and those longest tentacles make another twenty feet.’

  ‘But it’s really small as squids go. Specimens have been found with tentacles forty-two feet long. The fellows on one scientific expedition were lucky enough to see a battle between a giant squid and a sperm whale. The squid won. It was seventy-five feet long.’

  ‘Well,’ said Roger, ‘this dainty little forty-foot item is plenty big enough for my money! Too bad we can’t use him. I suppose he’ll escape when the tide rises.’

  ‘Perhaps we can use him!’ exclaimed Hal. ‘Didn’t we need rope?’

  ‘Rope! How can you get rope out of a squid?’

  ‘Those tentacles. I’ll bet they could be cut into strips that would be as tough as leather.’

  Roger grunted his disbelief.

  ‘Well, why not?’ went on Hal. ‘If they can do it with boa constrictor or anaconda hide, why not with this? Down in Malaysia they use python skin. It’s so durable they cover furniture with it and sell it in London shops. It’s almost impossible to wear it out. And one of these tentacles is just as strong as any python or anaconda.’

  ‘Perhaps so,’ admitted Roger. ‘I know I’d hate to be hugged by one. But you can’t just walk up and help yourself to a tentacle - his honour might object.’

  The sun had risen and its heat roused the monster to fury. The giant squid prefers the chill waters of the Arctic or Antarctic. It does not mind being carried from the Antarctic up into tropical seas by the Humboldt Current because that current is very cold. The squid stays in the chill depths of the current during the day. When the sun has gone it floats up to the surface but sinks when the sun returns. It is a rabid sun-hater.

  The giant squid, trapped in the blazing heat, began to thrash about violently. Its tentacles flailed the rocks and their sharp teeth made deep scratches in the coral.

  Suddenly with a mighty heave it lurched forward six feet and at the same time flung out one of its long tentacles. Roger fled to safety. Hal, trying to escape, stumbled and fell.

  At once the great arm slipped around his waist. It tightened upon him. He could feel the teeth biting into him through his palm-cloth shirt.

  Roger was beating the tentacle with a piece of coral and shouting, ‘Omo! Omo!’

  The tentacle began to draw Hal towards the monster’s beak. The huge eagle-like beak opened, revealing a jagged row of t
eeth. Hal clung to the rocks with all his might but it was no use. The tentacle, as powerful as a python, pulled him loose. He clutched other rocks and again was pulled away.

  Omo came hobbling on his two hands and his one good leg, dragging the other after him.

  ‘Hurry, Omo!’ yelled Roger. Somehow he had faith that the Polynesian would know what to do. Roger flung away his rock. It had made no impression upon the tentacle. Now he caught his brother’s foot in both hands, braced himself behind a boulder, and held on like grim death.

  But two boys and a boulder were no match for the giant. It dragged both of them and the stone as well. Now Hal was within a few feet of the waiting beak.

  ‘Look out!’ he gasped. Another tentacle was feeling for Roger, who squirmed to one side to avoid it.

  Omo, arriving at last, picked up a large rock. Then he stood up, balancing himself on his good leg, and hurled the rock. Long training had made him as accurate with a stone as with a spear or a bow and arrow. Though he was weak from his illness, new strength came to him at this moment when he needed it most.

  The rock flew straight into the monster’s jaws where it jammed so tightly that the creature could not get rid of it.

  With a mouthful of rock, the giant must abandon its notion of making a meal out of the castaways. But it could still punish with its tentacles and it proceeded to do so.

  ‘Quick! Help me with this log!’ Omo called. Roger dropped Hal’s foot and gave Omo a hand in lifting a coconut log.

  ‘Now! Ram it between the eyes,’

  They ran forward with the log, Omo ignoring the excruciating pain in his leg, and crashed the end of the log into the monster’s brain.

  The squid threw up its arms in a violent spasm. Hal was lifted ten feet into the air, then dropped free upon the rocks.

  The ten tentacles writhed and twisted as a snake does when in its death throes. Then the life went out of them and they lay still.

  Roger and Omo turned to help Hal. But he was already on his feet. He was very unsteady. Where he had lain the coral was stained red. Blood flowed from the many cuts around his body.

  ‘I’m okay,’ he said. ‘They’re just scratches. Come on, Roger, let’s give Omo a lift.’

  They acted as two crutches, one under each arm, and got Omo back to the hut. There the Polynesian boy collapsed in pain and for the rest of that day had a pretty bad time of it.

  Hal and Roger went back to the dead giant. The rock that Omo had thrown was still locked in the great beak. Hal shivered as he looked at the serpent-like tentacle that had held him in its crushing embrace. He still felt dazed by the shock and terror of those moments.

  ‘I’m sorry we had to kill the beast,’ he said. He had the naturalist’s dislike for taking lives.

  ‘It was either His Nibs or you,’ Roger reminded him. ‘Besides, we need his rope if we’re going to get off this reef alive.’

  ‘That’s right. And we’d better get busy before the tide comes along and carries him off.’

  The hide was like tough leather. It took many hours of hard work before the ten tentacles could be severed and laid out on the rocks to dry in the sun. ‘Tomorrow we’ll cut them into strips,’ Hal said.

  The tide had risen and was tugging at the body. ‘Say goodbye to the carcass,’ said Roger. ‘Or would you like to have some of it for dinner?’

  ‘I think ‘I’ll pass that up. The Orientals eat the young squids and find them very tasty, but I’d hate to tackle this old granddad. However, there’s one more thing we need from it before we let the sea take it.’

  With a block of coral he pounded the razor-sharp beak until a part of it broke off. It was like the blade of an axe. Then he cut out a stick from the flank of a coconut log. With a narrow strap cut from a tentacle he bound the blade to the handle.

  ‘It may not be beautiful,’ he said, swinging the jerry-built axe, ‘but it will come in handy when we build that raft.’

  Chapter 18

  The pearl divers

  The next day narrow straps were cut from the tentacles of the giant squid. All flesh was scraped away from the inside surface. The straps quickly dried in the sun.

  ‘Don’t we need to tan them?’ asked Roger.

  ‘If we wanted them to last for years we would have to tan them. But it isn’t necessary for our purposes. They will stand up all right for a few weeks.’

  ‘It seems funny to be making leather out of squid tentacles.’

  ‘Why so? They make leather out of other things just as strange - kangaroo, wallaby, buffalo, ostrich, deer, lizard, alligator, shark, seal, and walrus. Cannibals have even made leather out of human skin.’

  By tying together the ends of the four straps they had cut from one of the twenty-foot tentacles they were able to get a line more than long enough to reach to the bottom of the cove. They fastened it to the palm-cloth bag and were ready for diving operations.

  ‘Let me go first,’ demanded Roger.

  He tucked a rock under one arm, gripped the bag with his other hand, and dropped into the lagoon. The ripples he left on the surface gave Hal a wobbly vision of his brother as he descended to the floor of the bay.

  Roger had difficulty in keeping his feet under him. They insisted upon floating upward. He stopped this by gripping the rock between his feet. That brought his feet down and head up.

  The pressure upon his body was tremendous. He felt as if he were being hugged by a monster. It was all he could do to prevent the stored breath from popping out of his lungs.

  He began tearing loose the big bivalves and putting them in the bag. The shells were rough and sometimes thorny. He was sorry he had not worn Omo’s gloves. Bloody scratches appeared on his hand. If a shark got a whiff of that blood - but there were not likely to be sharks inside the lagoon. He hoped not anyhow.

  It took about fifteen shells to fill the bag. He stuck it out until the job was finished. How long had he been in this terrific compression chamber? It seemed like half an hour.

  He left the full bag on the bottom and rose to the surface.

  Hal gave him a hand and pulled him out onto the rocks. He breathed with sharp whistling gasps. He writhed in agony, cramps convulsing his body. His features were contorted

  with pain and the veins stood out on his face and arms. He shook in the hot sunshine as if he had the ague. He felt cold and weak.

  Hal was anxiously scolding him.

  ‘You stayed down too long. You were down two minutes. Even the Polynesians can’t do more than three.’

  Roger managed to sit up. ‘I’m all right,’ he said dizzily. ‘Pull up the bag. Let’s see what we got.’

  Hal laid hold of the line and drew the bag to the surface. Before he took it out of the water he placed his arms beneath it lest the weight of the shell might break the palm cloth. He emptied the bag on the beach. Fifteen huge shells looking like so many black turtles lay before them.

  They could not wait to see what they contained. They opened them one after another and explored for pearls.

  There were none.

  Roger gazed into the depths of the cove with dismay.

  ‘Don’t tell me we have to go through that again!’

  ‘Many times, I’m afraid. Now it’s my turn.’

  ‘Wear the gloves,’ Roger advised him, looking at his own red hand. ‘It will save you some blood.’

  Hal put on the gloves, provided himself with a rock and the bag, and went down. He spent no time trying to bring his feet under him but let them float upward like sea fans while he hastily filled the bag.

  Then he came up, trying to make the ascent as slow as possible. But when Roger had helped him out he lay on the shelf of rock completely exhausted, with drops of blood trickling from his ears, nose, and mouth. His chest rose and fell like a bellows as he breathed in great gulps of the good air. ‘I’m afraid I’m no - amphibian,’ he panted. Roger hauled up the bag and they eagerly opened the shells.

  They worked alternately, Roger opening the first shell, Hal the
second, and so on. Twelve shells were opened without result. The next one fell to Roger.

  ‘Thirteen!’ he grumbled. ‘There can’t be any good luck in that one!’

  He thrust his knife into the muscle, twisted it, and the lips of the shell eased apart. He ran his finger along the inside rim of the lower lip.

  He stopped halfway. He looked up at Hal and his eyes became round and his mouth dropped open. He began to breathe fast. ‘Golly, I believe this is it!’

  His ringers closed upon it. He brought it out. For a moment neither could speak. They sat stunned, gazing at it.

  Then Hal whispered, ‘Holy Moses! It’s as big as a barn!’

  It was not as big as a barn, but it was as big as a marble.

  It was the largest pearl the boys had ever laid eyes upon. It was a perfect sphere. Held in one position it seemed white, in another its opalescent depths reflected all the colours of lagoon and sky. It seemed alive.

  Roger dropped it in Hal’s hand. Hal was surprised to find it so heavy. That meant it was a good pearl. He turned it slowly in his fingers. It did not have a single flaw or blemish. It was so unreal, so full of a mysterious light, that it seemed to be part of the sunshine or of the atmosphere.

  When he cupped his other hand over it to shade it from the sun, it still glowed, but now like a moon.

  Roger, a dazed expression on his face, murmured, ‘Boy! Wait till the prof sees that!’

  ‘I think he’ll decide that his experiment has been a success!’

  ‘A success, and how! But it’s a long way from here to the professor. Suppose we lose it. Or have it stolen. That Kaggs will be watching for us when we get back to Ponape - if we ever get there.’

  ‘Quit worrying!’ laughed Hal. But it was plain he also felt the great responsibility that had been suddenly thrust upon them. ‘That’s the trouble with treasure,’ he said. ‘Once you get it, you have to start worrying about keeping it. Let’s show it to Omo.’

  Inside the dark cave the pearl still gleamed as if it had a fire of its own. Hal held it before Omo’s eyes. Omo whistled softly.