The Foot of Time: A Novel of Australia and the South Seas: (1933)

144 THE FOOT OF TIME
cuttle-fish, awaiting the most succulent meal it had
ever known—a white man—squirted a black, inky
fluid round about the pool. The discoloration
spread with astonishing rapidity. It also stank, in
spite of its dilution with so much water, and Bruce
gave pause, gazing spellbound to ascertain the cause
of it. The cause of it was hidden, eclipsed in its
own fog, specially expelled to blind its victim and
make capture more certain.
Molota, watching, saw Bruce hesitate, sensed the
possibilities of the spot, saw a mighty tentacle nine
feet long, sucker-covered, rear itself into the air,
blindly feeling round. An awful screech rent the
air, and perhaps the scream saved Bruce's life. He
might conceivably have dived—over the inky
patch, away from it. He knew nothing of the
length of tentacles possessed by these inhabitants
of Eden, where only man is vile; knew nothing of
the fact that man and the scenery were probably
the only things there which were not vile. But
Molota's scream gave him pause. He walked round
the rocks instead (as the soles of his feet, though
doctored by Molota, for long afterwards could
testify) , and was spared the most appalling of
speedy deaths it is probably possible for a man to
die. And many Edenites go out that way, though
they live in envied Eden. The octopii drown them,
or almost drown them, first, but it's scarcely comfortable
being held under water by vacuum saucers,
drawing your skin off you in the death hold, being
pulled closer, ever closer, to that parrot beak between
those frightful eyes. Eden? One wonders.
THE FOOT OF TIME 145
Well, Eden held a serpent, too, or so the lovely
fantasy has it.
The dire peril from which Bruce had escaped
brought Molota out of her reserve. The episode
had been somewhat lost upon Brian; his own affairs
sufficed as a rule to keep that worthy occupied.
The four made an end to their swim for the day,
and while Bruce made ready to return to his but
Pinkerton and Tamli went off together, wandering
up the nearest mountain side.
Culinary preparations were totally unnecessary
on the island, where indigenous fruits and mountain
streams offered as much as picnickers needed in
that hot, sultry climate. With the evening the
inevitable fish meals afforded the fuller nutriment—
the "piece de resistance" for the day.
It appeared evident to Bruce that he would be
thrown almost entirely upon his own resources
during his stay upon Tuamonti, and he felt doubly
glad that he had brought away text-books upon
shipbuilding and other mathematical works bearing
upon his particular line of study.
He had intended walking to the extent of the
confines of Tuamonti and scaling one of the peaks,
but the want of companionship, coupled with the
humid temperature, damped down his enthusiasm
in this ambition. Accordingly, he wended his way
back to the but to spend the day at study.
But while Bruce proposed, Molota disposed. The
girl put in an appearance shortly after he had
commenced study, proposing to act as escort, pilot,
and guide up the mountains, round the shore, or