venom; the lion has its talons, the devil-fish has no talons; the
griffon has its beak, the devil-fish has no beak; the crocodile has its
jaws, the devil-fish has no teeth.

The devil-fish has no muscular organisation, no menacing cry, no
breastplate, no horn, no dart, no claw, no tail with which to hold or
bruise; no cutting fins, or wings with nails, no prickles, no sword, no
electric discharge, no poison, no talons, no beak, no teeth. Yet he is
of all creatures the most formidably armed.

What, then, is the devil-fish? It is the sea vampire.

The swimmer who, attracted by the beauty of the spot, ventures among
breakers in the open sea, where the still waters hide the splendours of
the deep, or in the hollows of unfrequented rocks, in unknown caverns
abounding in sea plants, testacea, and crustacea, under the deep portals
of the ocean, runs the risk of meeting it. If that fate should be yours,
be not curious, but fly. The intruder enters there dazzled; but quits
the spot in terror.

This frightful apparition, which is always possible among the rocks in
the open sea, is a greyish form which undulates in the water. It is of
the thickness of a man's arm, and in length nearly five feet. Its
outline is ragged. Its form resembles an umbrella closed, and without
handle. This irregular mass advances slowly towards you. Suddenly it
opens, and eight radii issue abruptly from around a face with two eyes.
These radii are alive: their undulation is like lambent flames; they
resemble, when opened, the spokes of a wheel, of four or five feet in
diameter. A terrible expansion! It springs upon its prey.

The devil-fish harpoons its victim.

It winds around the sufferer, covering and entangling him in its long
folds. Underneath it is yellow; above, a dull, earthy hue: nothing could
render that inexplicable shade dust coloured. Its form is spider-like,
but its tints are like those of the chamelion. When irritated it becomes
violet. Its most horrible characteristic is its softness.

Its folds strangle, its contact paralyses.

It has an aspect like gangrened or scabrous flesh. It is a monstrous
embodiment of disease.

It adheres closely to its prey, and cannot be torn away; a fact which is
due to its power of exhausting air. The eight antennae, large at their
roots, diminish gradually, and end in needle-like points. Underneath
each of these feelers range two rows of pustules, decreasing in size,
the largest ones near the head,