glaucus-or the wonders of the shore(格劳高斯)-第3章
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Glaucus/or The Wonders of the Shore
to be effaced by the next farmer who needs to build a wall； but
unmistakeable； boundless in significance； like Crusoe's one savage
footprint on the sea…shore； and the naturalist acknowledges the finger…
mark of God； and wonders； and worships。
Happy； especially； is the sportsman who is also a naturalist： for as
he roves in pursuit of his game； over hills or up the beds of streams
where no one but a sportsman ever thinks of going； he will be certain to
see things noteworthy； which the mere naturalist would never find；
simply because he could never guess that they were there to be found。
I do not speak merely of the rare birds which may be shot； the curious
facts as to the habits of fish which may be observed； great as these
pleasures are。 I speak of the scenery； the weather； the geological
formation of the country； its vegetation； and the living habits of its
denizens。 A sportsman； out in all weathers； and often dependent for
success on his knowledge of 〃what the sky is going to do；〃 has
opportunities for becoming a meteorologist which no one beside but a
sailor possesses； and one has often longed for a scientific gamekeeper or
huntsman； who； by discovering a law for the mysterious and seemingly
capricious phenomena of 〃scent；〃 might perhaps throw light on a
hundred dark passages of hygrometry。 The fisherman； too； … what an
inexhaustible treasury of wonder lies at his feet； in the subaqueous world
of the commonest mountain burn！ All the laws which mould a world
are there busy； if he but knew it； fattening his trout for him； and making
them rise to the fly； by strange electric influences； at one hour rather than
at another。 Many a good geognostic lesson； too； both as to the nature of
a country's rocks； and as to the laws by which strata are deposited； may
an observing man learn as he wades up the bed of a trout… stream； not to
mention the strange forms and habits of the tribes of water…insects。
Moreover； no good fisherman but knows； to his sorrow； that there are
plenty of minutes； ay； hours； in each day's fishing in which he would be
right glad of any employment better than trying to
〃Call spirits from the vasty deep；〃
who will not
〃Come when you do call for them。〃
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What to do； then？ You are sitting； perhaps； in your coracle； upon
some mountain tarn； waiting for a wind； and waiting in vain。
〃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
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Glaucus/or The Wonders of the Shore
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
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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 t
