"Now, for his size, Little Sword was putting up a tremendous fight.
His broad, fluked tail and immense fins churned the water amazingly,
and enabled him to spring this way and that in spite of all the efforts
of the two long tentacles to hold him still. Nevertheless, he was
slowly drawn downwards, till one of the shorter feelers reached for a
hold upon him. He darted at it, and by a lucky plunge of his sword cut
its snaky tip clean off. It twisted back out of the way, like a
startled worm; and Little Sword lunged at the next one. He pierced it
all right, but at a point where it was so thick that the stroke did not
sever it, and the tip, curling over, fastened upon him. At the same
moment another feeler fixed itself upon the base of his tail, half
paralyzing his struggles.
"Little Sword was now being drawn implacably downwards. In his fierce
rage he struck at everything in reach, but he was too closely held to
inflict any serious wounds. He was within eight or nine inches of
those awful, unwinking, ink-black eyes. The great beak opened upwards
at him eagerly. It looked as if his career was at an end--when the
Fates of the Deep Sea decided otherwise. Apparently they had more use
for Little Sword than they had for the Inkmaker.
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