《glaucus》

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〃Keine luft an keine seite;

Todes…stille f乺chterlich;〃





as G攖he has it …





〃Und der schiffer sieht bek乵mert

Glatte fl刢he rings umher。〃





You paddle to the shore on the side whence the wind ought to come; 

if it had any spirit in it; tie the coracle to a stone; light your 

cigar; lie down on your back upon the grass; grumble; and finally 

fall asleep。  In the meanwhile; probably; the breeze has come on; 

and there has been half…an…hour's lively fishing curl; and you wake 

just in time to see the last ripple of it sneaking off at the other 

side of the lake; leaving all as dead…calm as before。



Now how much better; instead of falling asleep; to have walked 

quietly round the lake side; and asked of your own brains and of 

Nature the question; 〃How did this lake come here?  What does it 

mean?〃



It is a hole in the earth。  True; but how was the hole made?  There 

must have been huge forces at work to form such a chasm。  Probably 

the mountain was actually opened from within by an earthquake; and 

when the strata fell together again; the portion at either end of 

the chasm; being perhaps crushed together with greater force; 

remained higher than the centre; and so the water lodged between 

them。  Perhaps it was formed thus。  You will at least agree that 

its formation must have been a grand sight enough; and one during 

which a spectator would have had some difficulty in keeping his 

footing。



And when you learn that this convulsion probably took plus at the 

bottom of an ocean hundreds of thousands of years ago; you have at 

least a few thoughts over which to ruminate; which will make you at 

once too busy to grumble; and ashamed to grumble。



Yet; after all; I hardly think the lake was formed in this way; and 

suspect that it may have been dry for ages after it emerged from 

the primeval waves; and Snowdonia was a palm…fringed island in a 

tropic sea。  Let us look the place over more fully。



You see the lake is nearly circular; on the side where we stand the 

pebbly beach is not six feet above the water; and slopes away 

steeply into the valley behind us; while before us it shelves 

gradually into the lake; forty yards out; as you know; there is not 

ten feet water; and then a steep bank; the edge whereof we and the 

big trout know well; sinks suddenly to unknown depths。  On the 

opposite side; that flat…topped wall of rock towers up shoreless 

into the sky; seven hundred feet perpendicular; the deepest water 

of all we know is at its very foot。  Right and left; two shoulders 

of down slope into the lake。  Now turn round and look down the 

gorge。  Remark that this pebble bank on which we stand reaches some 

fifty yards downward:  you see the loose stones peeping out 

everywhere。  We may fairly suppose that we stand on a dam of loose 

stones; a hundred feet deep。



But why loose stones? … and if so; what matter? and what wonder?  

There are rocks cropping out everywhere down the hill…side。



Because if you will take up one of these stones and crack it 

across; you will see that it is not of the same stuff as those said 

rocks。  Step into the next field and see。  That rock is the common 

Snowdon slate; which we see everywhere。  The two shoulders of down; 

right and left; are slate; too; you can see that at a glance。  But 

the stones of the pebble bank are a close…grained; yellow…spotted 

rock。  They are Syenite; and (you may believe me or not; as you 

will) they were once upon a time in the condition of a hasty 

pudding heated to some 800 degrees of Fahrenheit; and in that 

condition shoved their way up somewhere or other through these 

slates。  But where? whence on earth did these Syenite pebbles come?  

Let us walk round to the cliff on the opposite side and see。  It is 

worth while; for even if my guess be wrong; there is good spinning 

with a brass minnow round the angles of the rocks。



Now see。  Between the cliff…foot and the sloping down is a crack; 

ending in a gully; the nearer side is of slate; and the further 

side; the cliff itself; is … why; the whole cliff is composed of 

the very same stone as the pebble ridge。



Now; my good friend; how did these pebbles get three hundred yards 

across the lake?  Hundreds of tons; some of them three feet long:  

who carried them across?  The old Cymry were not likely to amuse 

themselves by making such a breakwater up here in No…man's…land; 

two thousand feet above the sea:  but somebody or something must 

have carried them; for stones do not fly; nor swim either。



Shot out of a volcano?  As you seem determined to have a prodigy; 

it may as well be a sufficiently huge one。



Well … these stones lie altogether; and a volcano would have hardly 

made so compact a shot; not being in the habit of using Eley's wire 

cartridges。  Our next hope of a solution lies in John Jones; who 

carried up the coracle。  Hail him; and ask him what is on the top 

of that cliff 。 。 。 So; 〃Plainshe and pogshe; and another Llyn。〃  

Very good。  Now; does it not strike you that this whole cliff has a 

remarkably smooth and plastered look; like a hare's run up an 

earthbank?  And do you not see that it is polished thus only over 

the lake? that as soon as the cliff abuts on the downs right and 

left; it forms pinnacles; caves; broken angular boulders?  Syenite 

usually does so in our damp climate; from the 〃weathering〃 effect 

of frost and rain:  why has it not done so over the lake?  On that 

part something (giants perhaps) has been scrambling up or down on a 

very large scale; and so rubbed off every corner which was inclined 

to come away; till the solid core of the rock was bared。  And may 

not those mysterious giants have had a hand in carrying the stones 

across the lake? 。 。 。 Really; I am not altogether jesting。  Think 

a while what agent could possibly have produced either one or both 

of these effects?



There is but one; and that; if you have been an Alpine traveller … 

much more if you have been a Chamois hunter … you have seen many a 

time (whether you knew it or not) at the very same work。



Ice?  Yes; ice; Hrymir the frost…giant; and no one else。  And if 

you will look at the facts; you will see how ice may have done it。  

Our friend John Jones's report of plains and bogs and a lake above 

makes it quite possible that in the 〃Ice age〃 (Glacial Epoch; as 

the big…word…mongers call it) there was above that cliff a great 

neve; or snowfield; such as you have seen often in the Alps at the 

head of each glacier。  Over the face of this cliff a glacier has 

crawled down from that neve; polishing the face of the rock in its 

descent:  but the snow; having no large and deep outlet; has not 

slid down in a sufficient stream to reach the vale below; and form 

a glacier of the first order; and has therefore stopped short on 

the other side of the lake; as a glacier of the second order; which 

ends in an ice…cliff hanging high up on the mountain side; and kept 

from further progress by daily melting。  If you have ever gone up 

the Mer de Glace to the Tacul; you saw a magnificent specimen of 

this sort on your right hand; just opposite the Tacul; in the 

Glacier de Trelaporte; which comes down from the Aiguille de 

Charmoz。



This explains our pebble…ridge。  The stones which the glacier 

rubbed off the cliff beneath it it carried forward; slowly but 

surely; till they saw the light again in the face of the ice…cliff; 

and dropped out of it under the melting of the summer sun; to form 

a huge dam across the ravine; till; the 〃Ice age〃 past; a more 

genial climate succeeded; and neve and glacier melted away:  but 

the 〃moraine〃 of stones did not; and remains to this day; as the 

dam which keeps up the waters of the lake。



There is my explanation。  If you can find a better; do:  but 

remember always that it must include an answer to … 〃How did the 

stones get across the lake?〃



 Now; reader; we have had no abstruse science here; no long words; 

not even a microscope or a book:  and yet we; as two plain 

sportsmen; have gone back; or been led back by fact and common 

sense; into the most awful and sublime depths; into an epos of the 

destruction and re…creation of a former world。



This is but a single instance; I might give hundreds。  This one; 

nevertheless; may have some effect in awakening you to the 

boundless world of wonders which is all around you; and make you 

ask yourself seriously; 〃What branch of Natural History shall I 

begin to investigate; if it be but for a few weeks; this summer?〃



To which I answer; Try 〃the Wonders of the Shore。〃  There are along 

every sea…beach more strange things to be seen; and those to be 

seen easily; than in any other field of observation which you will 

find in these islands。  And on the shore only will you have the 

enjoyment of finding new species; of adding your mite to the 

treasures of science。



For not only the English ferns; but the natural history of all our 

land species; are now well…nigh exhausted。  Our home botanists and 

ornithologists are spending their time now; perforce; in verifying 

a few obscure species; and bemoaning themselves; like Alexander; 

that there are no more worlds left to conquer。  For the geologist; 

indeed; and the entomologist; especially in the remoter districts; 

much remains to be done; but only at a heavy outlay of time; 

labour; and study; and the dilettante (and it is for dilettanti; 

like myself; that I principally write) must be content to tread in 

the tracks of greater men who have preceded him; and accept at 

second or third hand their foregone conclusions。



But this is most unsatisfactory; for in giving up discovery; one 

gives up one of the highest enjoyments of Natural History。  There 

is a mysterious delight in the discovery of a new species; akin to 

that of seeing for the first time; in thei
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