Unlike the skulking, hiding octopus, its ten-armed relative, the _Sepia_ loves the daylight and the freedom of the upper water. Its predatory acts are not those of a concealed and ambushed brigand lying in wait behind a rock, or peeping furtively from within the gloomy shadow of a cave; but it may better be compared to the war-like Comanche vidette seated gracefully on his horse, and scanning from some elevated knoll a wide expanse of prairie, in readiness to swoop upon a weak or unarmed foe. Poised near the surface of the water, like a hawk in the air, the _Sepia_ moves gently to and fro by graceful undulations of its lateral fins,--an exquisite play of colour occasionally taking place over its beautifully barred and mottled back. When thus tranquil, its eight pedal arms are usually brought close together, and droop in front of its head, like the trunk of an elephant, shortened; its two longer tentacular arms being coiled up within their pouches and unseen. Only when some small fish approaches it does it arouse itself. Then, its eyes dilate, and its colours become more bright and vivid. It carefully takes aim, advancing or retreating to such a distance as will just allow the two hidden tentacles to reach the quarry when they shall be shot out. Next, the two highest or central feet are lifted up, and the three others on each side are spread aside, so that they may be all out of the way of the two concealed tentacles, presently to be launched forth; and then, in a moment--so instantaneously that the eye of an observer, be he ever so watchful, can hardly see the act--this pair of tentacles, side by side, are projected and withdrawn, as if in a flash. The fish or shrimp has vanished, the suckers of the dilated ends of the tentacles having adhered to it, and left it, as they re-entered their pouches, within the fatal "cuddle," or embrace, where it is torn to pieces by the devouring beak.[7] This action of the tentacles of the decapods is the most rapid motion that I know of in the whole animal kingdom--not excepting even that of the tongue of the toad and the lizard. These long tentacles are not used when the food is within reach of the shorter arms. [7] See an excellent article in the _Field_, Sept. 2, 1876, on the 'Ten Footed Cuttle' (_Sepia officinalis_), by the late Mr. W. A. Lloyd, an earnest and accomplished aquatic zoologist; eccentric, but in all that relates to the construction and management of an aquarium a master of his craft. It was his wish that in any future edition of my little book on the Octopus, or other writings on the cephalopods, I should use the woodcuts which illustrated his articles on Sepia and Octopus. By the kind permission of the proprietors of the _Field_, I reproduce them in suitable size for these pages. [Illustration: FIG. 3.--THE CUTTLE (_Sepia officinalis_).]