CHAPTER X.

PARLEY DESCRIBES THE FALLS OF NIAGARA.

The river Niagara runs out of Lake Erie into Lake Ontario, and you may

see the direction it takes if you look in the map of North America. You

may likewise observe that Lake Erie is connected with three other vast

Lakes, and as its level is lower than theirs, the whole of their waters

pass through it into the Niagara.

Nearly half way between the Lakes Erie and Ontario, where the river is

about three quarters of a mile wide, it tumbles over a precipice of

160 feet in height. I shall try to describe to you what I saw when I

visited this place; but I am quite certain I shall not be able to do

justice to the scene. You must form your conceptions of it rather from

the bare facts I tell you respecting the mass of water and the height

of the rocky ledge over which it falls.

As we travelled along from the town of Waterloo on a level road on the

west bank, we saw the river gradually become wider till it was cut into

two streams by a long narrow island some miles in length. The streams

after passing the island, unite into one again, which continues its

course as before.

There is a sullen unpretending majesty about this part of the river, as

if it did not think it worth while to remind the traveller of the vast

distance which its mighty waters have come, or of the stupendous scene

to which they are travelling onward. There is nothing remarkable in its

appearance, and that very circumstance, coupled with what we knew and

what we shortly expected to see, made us full of intense feeling; and

often and often did we put our ears to the ground to hear whether the

sound of the falls could reach us, and then remount and impatiently

spur on our horses.

They say that the roar of the falls may be heard fifteen miles off when

the wind is favourable. But the day we went, there was hardly any wind,

and we were within six miles of the spot before we heard the sound.

At the distance of three miles the waters seemed fretful and

discontented, as they approached what are called the rapids; we

could see afar off "a silver cloud rising slowly into the sky--the

everlasting incense of the waters," consisting of vapour, or rather

fine spray, which is dashed out by the violence of the fall; and the

roar seemed deeper and more tumultuous.

Within half a mile the rapids commence in good earnest. A rapid means

the descent of a river down an inclined bed less sudden than a fall.

The descent here in half a mile, is fifty feet. The bed is rocky, and

the waters in rushing over it foam, and eddy, and tear along in all

directions in which they can possibly approach the awful precipice. The

unity of the stream is broken by thousands of rocks and stones, and

every part of its broad surface seems earnestly taken up with driving

forward to the falls.

After we had enjoyed this scene awhile, we turned into the road again,

and lost sight of the river till we reached a public-house, where we

took refreshment and put up our horses.

The precipice which here breaks the course of the river, is divided

into three parts by two large islands, and thus are formed three

distinct falls. One of these is called the _Great_, or _Horse Shoe

Fall_, from its peculiar shape, which you will see represented in the

picture. This is by far the most extensive waterfall in the world, and

is considered to be above a quarter of a mile in length. Then comes an

island a thousand feet in width, called Goat Island, which has a great

deal of wood growing on it. After that the Second Fall, not more than

twenty feet in width, then an island considerably smaller than the

first; and lastly, Fort Scloper Fall, about a thousand feet wide, which

joins the opposite bank of the river.

[Illustration]

The quantity of water which descends every minute in the three falls,

has been estimated to be about 700,000 tons.

Well, a path through the garden of the Inn at which we were, led us

down a steep and thickly wooded bank, to a complete shelf of rock,

about a foot in thickness, called the Table Rock, which stands out

over the river.[A] Since I was there this piece of rock has broken away

and fallen into the stream. I was not at all surprised when I heard

this intelligence, for I can assure you that though I am no coward, it

did not seem very secure when I was standing on it, and if I had not

been quite taken up with what I was looking at, I should not have staid

there long. Here the whole scene on a sudden broke upon us. We were on

a level with the top of the precipice, with the Horse Shoe Fall just

opposite, and to our left, the Second, and Fort Scloper Falls.

[Footnote A: The print is copied by the kind permission of Messrs.

Ackermann, from one of the elegant series of engravings of the Falls of

Niagara, published by them.]

In spite of the loud roar and the violent rushing of the waters, the

scene altogether produced on us feelings of deep tranquillity and

beauty. The portion of the river that falls over the Horse Shoe Fall,

comes on in such an unbroken mass, as if nothing dared to oppose the

progress of a single drop of its water. Then the deep transparent green

of the middle stream, showing at a little depth beneath its surface,

shreds of milky foam, the beautiful cloud of fine spray ever decorated

with a rich rainbow when the sun shines, and the thick woods of Goat

Island, (the island that limits the Horse Shoe Fall,) are in such

lovely harmony. Altogether, I should say that the scene from the Table

Rock, is more remarkable for its beauty than its grandeur, though its

grandeur is quite equal to that of anything I ever looked upon in my

life.

We got down to the bottom of the falls by means of some rough steps

which have been cut in the rock. As we stood on some large fragments

which have fallen down from the cliff above, the roar fell with

overpowering heaviness upon our ears, the fall was nearly hid from our

eyes by the spray, and the river rushed past our feet in a terrible

tumult of white foam. By getting along on the stones under the cliff,

we went in under the fall so as actually to be between the rock and

the descending sheet of water. Your imagination must tell you better

than I can, the character of what we then saw by the broken light that

made its way through the descending mass of waters. We stopped there,

overpowered by indescribable feelings, till we got wet through by the

spray, and then went back to the inn, stored with recollections, which

will be a feast for us as long as we live.

A traveller who visited the Falls in winter, adds some particulars

which will be interesting to you.

"At the time of my visit," says he, "the wind drove the floating ice

out of Lake Erie, with the drift wood of its tributary rivers, and

these were constantly precipitated over the Falls, but we were not able

to discover any vestiges of them in the eddies below. Immediately in

front of the sheet of falling water, on the American side, there was

also an enormous bank of snow, of nearly a hundred feet in height,

which the power of the sun had not been fierce enough to dissolve, and

which, by giving an Icelandic character to the landscape, produced a

fine effect. It appeared to me to owe its accumulation to the fallen

particles of frozen spray.

"What has been said by Goldsmith, and repeated by others, respecting

the destructive influence of the rapids above, to ducks and other

water-fowl, is only an effect of the imagination. So far from being the

case, the wild duck is often seen to swim down the rapid to the brink

of the Falls, and then fly out, and repeat the descent, seeming to take

a delight in the exercise. Neither are small land-birds affected on

flying over the Falls, in the manner that has been stated. I observed

the blue bird and the wren, which had already made their annual visit

to the banks of the Niagara, frequently fly within one or two feet of

the brink, apparently delighted with the gift of their wings, which

enabled them to sport over such frightful precipices, without danger."

PART II.

WONDERS OF THE SEA.

CHAPTER I.

PARLEY TELLS ABOUT THE FROZEN OCEAN.

Your old friend Peter loves to talk about the sea. Ever since he was

a child, he loved everything belonging to the sea, and when he was

a young man he went many long voyages, and met with many strange

adventures, on the sea. Perhaps he did not find it quite so delightful

to be shut up in the narrow compass of a ship, during long voyages,

as he dreamt he should in his childhood. But he does not now regret

whatever labours or sufferings he may have endured, for the pleasure he

finds in telling you of them.

But I do not intend here to spin you a yarn (as the sailors say) about

myself, but merely to describe to you some of the wonderful things I

have seen during my voyages, that you may love and admire them.

You have never seen the sea frozen over in the same manner as you have

seen ponds and rivers in winter. The waters of the sea, everywhere,

contain a large portion of salt, as you know from their taste, and

this prevents them from freezing, except where it is very cold. It is

only near the poles of the earth that the ocean freezes, and there are

large masses of ice, both at the north and south poles, which are never

thawed, but stand as stedfast as the everlasting hills of granite.

Icebergs are large bodies of ice filling the valleys between the high

mountains in northern latitudes. Sometimes they get loosened from the

places where they were formed, by parts of them thawing, in seasons

which are less cold than usual, and then rush down towards the sea,

where they float about in all manner of fantastic and majestic forms.

[Illustration: _Icebergs._]

These icebergs are the creation of ages, and annually increase by the

falling of snows, and of rain, which instantly freezes, and more than

repairs the loss occasioned by the heat of the sun.

I must tell you a little about the way in which cold converts water

into ice.

Everything in nature is expanded or increased in bulk by heat. You

may see in a thermometer how the quick-silver or the coloured spirit

rises in the tube, because it expands when the instrument is in a

warm place, and how it sinks in a cold place. It is just the same with

solids and gases. This would seem to be a universal law of nature,

if it were not for the _single_ exception of water at the moment of

its freezing. If water is cooled down to the freezing point, it will

gradually diminish in bulk, but at the moment it turns into ice, it

seems to spring outward, and increases considerably. In this way

bottles are broken when the water in them freezes; and rocks are often

split open in the same manner when the cracks in them contain water.

You have seen that ice does not sink in water, but floats upon the

surface; this takes place, because from the circumstance which I have

told you, a certain quantity of ice by weight, occupies more space than

the same quantity of water. Now it is worth while for you to see how

wisely this is arranged, as it respects our own climate and country;

for if ice were to sink to the bottom, the lakes, and rivers, and

ponds, would become solid masses of ice during winter, which the sun's

rays would never thoroughly thaw in summer, because, after the surface

had been thawed, the rays would have to pass through the water to get

at the ice at the bottom, and thus our climate would be rendered very

much colder than it is at present, and perhaps the springs would not

circulate, so that we should often suffer from scarcity of water.

But when the salt water freezes, the ice is very porous, almost like a

honeycomb, so that it is much lighter than frozen fresh water, and is

very buoyant upon the sea, and stands out boldly to a great height, as

is represented in the cut of the Icebergs.

I will tell you of a perilous situation in which I was placed in my

younger days, when I went a voyage to Greenland in a whale ship. It was

at the end of the fishing season, and our ship was the last but one

of the oil traders left in those seas; we had been very unsuccessful,

having only taken five small whales, and we were anxious to amend our

ill luck by tarrying after all the other ships had sailed, in hopes

of better success. We were gently sailing about in search of whales

amidst the broken ice when there suddenly arose a rather brisk breeze,

at which time our ship was situated between two icebergs,--one of them

very high and resembling a lofty mountain, and the other considerably

smaller.

Well, at the time the breeze sprung up, the large iceberg was to the

windward of us, that is, on that side from whence the wind blew, and

having a very large surface which caught the wind, it came sailing

towards us very fast.

The vast bulk of this iceberg sheltered the smaller one, which was

to the leeward of us, so that it did not move in the least, and we

who were between the two, were completely becalmed. The ship was not

advancing a knot in an hour, and we could do nothing whatever to help

ourselves. We were in the greatest dismay, and could only consider

the way in which we should meet our entire destruction. The larger

mountain of ice continued to bear down upon us, and in a few minutes

our vessel was crushed between it and the smaller one, as if it had

been put in a huge smith's vice.

Fortunately, however, for us, the two icebergs clung together, the

greater one impelling the lesser one forward, and we thus had time to

get out of the ship all our sea-chests, a large quantity of cordage,

nearly all our provisions, and everything portable; but the smaller

iceberg soon shifted round the large one and let our ship loose, which

instantly sank, and we, being on the small iceberg, were left floating

on the ocean with despair staring us in the face. Our despair, however,

was soon put to flight, for we perceived a ship at a short distance, to

which we made signal, and they came to our assistance.

But, now I come to a part of the event which I grieve to record.--The

captain and crew of the vessel which came to our succour, seeing that

we had no other alternative, thought they could make an easy prey of

us, and before they would consent to save us, required that we should

give up to them all the things which we had been enabled to rescue

from our wrecked ship!--In such circumstances you need not ask what

we did,--life is sweet, it is said, and the pitiless prospect of the

frozen regions around us, sharpened our appetite for the enjoyment of

it, and we surrendered all but the clothes in which we stood.

Shall I tell you the place where these savages came from? No. I will

only tell you that it lies in about 56 degrees North latitude, by 4-1/2

West longitude; you may, if you please, find its name by looking in the

map.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER II.

THE STORY OF A LONG JOURNEY OVER THE ICE.

[Illustration]

The Esquimaux live in the most northern parts of America, where there

is hardly anything but ice and snow to be seen from year's end to

year's end. They build their houses of snow, and make their longest

journeys in sledges upon ice along the sea-shore.

You, who have been used to a very different kind of life, may wonder

how they can enjoy themselves, or even endure existence in such

inhospitable regions. But I can assure you they love their native

country so much, that they could by no means be happy out of it; and

their pleasures are real pleasures, though they would not be pleasures

to you. And thus you may learn that God wishes everybody to be happy,

and enables them to be so if they choose to act according to the light

which He has given them, and not be ever struggling for something which

they _cannot_, and therefore _ought_ not, to possess.

And not only do the natives of these frozen countries endure perpetual

frost and snow, but good men have chosen to go and live among them for

the purpose of teaching the natives the doctrines of Christianity.

I shall relate to you a most interesting narrative of some of these

men who were Moravians, and it will give you a better notion of the

character of these parts of the world, and of the sort of life men

lead in them, than anything I could you of my own, for the story is

extremely well told.

"Brother Samuel Liebisch was entrusted with the general care of the

brethren's missions on the coast of Labrador, and the duties of his

office required a visit to Okkak, the most northern of our settlements,

and about one hundred and fifty English miles distant from Nain, the

place where he resided. Brother William Turner being appointed to

accompany him, they left Nain on March the 11th, 1782, early in the

morning, with very clear weather, the stars shining with uncommon

lustre. The sledge was driven by the baptized Esquimaux Mark, and

another sledge with Esquimaux joined company.

"An Esquimaux sledge is drawn by a species of dogs, not unlike a wolf

in shape. Like them, they never bark, but howl disagreeably. They

are kept by the Esquimaux in greater or larger packs or teams, in

proportion to the affluence of the master. They quietly submit to be

harnessed for their work, and are treated with little mercy by the

heathen Esquimaux, who make them do hard duty for the small quantity

of food they allow them. This chiefly consists in offal, old skins,

entrails, such parts of whale-flesh as are unfit for other use, rotten

whale-fins, &c., and if they are not provided with this kind of dogs'

meat, they leave them to go and seek dead fish or muscles upon the

beach.

[Illustration]

"When pinched with hunger they will swallow almost anything, and on

a journey it is necessary to secure the harness within the snow-house

over night, lest by devouring it, they should render it impossible

to proceed in the morning. When the travellers arrive at their

night-quarters, and the dogs are unharnessed, they are left to burrow

in the snow, where they please, and in the morning are sure to come

at their driver's call, when they receive some food. Their strength

and speed, even with an hungry stomach, is astonishing. In fastening

them to the sledge, care is taken not to let them go abreast. They are

tied by separate thongs, of unequal lengths, to an horizontal bar on

the fore-part of the sledge; an old knowing one leads the way, running

ten or twenty paces ahead, directed by the driver's whip, which is of

great length, and can be well managed only by an Esquimaux. The other

dogs follow like a flock of sheep. If one of them receives a lash, he

generally bites his neighbour, and the bite goes round.

[Illustration: PLATE XII.

ESCAPE ON THE ICE]

"To return to our travellers: the two sledges contained five men, one

woman, and a child. All were in good spirits, and appearances being

much in their favour, they hoped to reach Okkak in safety in two or

three days. The tract over the frozen sea was in the best possible

order, and they went with ease at the rate of six or seven miles an

hour. After they had passed the islands in the bay of Nain, they kept

at a considerable distance from the coast, both to gain the smoothest

part of the ice, and to weather the high rocky promontory of Kiglapeit.

[Illustration]

"About eight o'clock they met a sledge with Esquimaux turning in from

the sea. After the usual salutation, the Esquimaux alighting, held

some conversation, as is their general practice, the result of which

was, that some hints were thrown out by the strange Esquimaux, that it

might be better to return. However, as the missionaries saw no reason

whatever for it, and only suspected that the Esquimaux wished to enjoy

the company of their friends a little longer, they proceeded.

"After some time their own Esquimaux hinted that there was a ground

swell under the ice. It was then hardly perceptible, except on lying

down and applying the ear close to the ice, when a hollow disagreeable

grating and roaring noise was heard, as if ascending from the abyss.

The weather remained clear, except towards the east, where a bank of

light clouds appeared, interspersed with some dark streaks. But the

wind being strong from the North-west, nothing less than a sudden

change of weather was expected.

"The sun had now reached its height, and there was as yet little or

no alteration in the appearance of the sky. But the motion of the sea

under the ice had grown more perceptible, so as rather to alarm the

travellers, and they began to think it prudent to keep closer to the

shore. The ice had cracks and large fissures in many places, some

of which formed chasms of one or two feet wide; but as they are not

uncommon even in its best state, and the dogs easily leap over them,

the sledge following without danger, they are only terrible to new

comers.

"As soon as the sun declined towards the west, the wind increased and

rose to a storm, the bank of clouds from the east began to ascend, and

the dark streaks to put themselves in motion against the wind. The snow

was violently driven about by partial whirlwinds, both on the ice, and

from off the peaks of the high mountains and filled the air. At the

same time the ground swell had increased so much, that its effect upon

the ice became very extraordinary and alarming. The sledges, instead

of gliding along smoothly upon an even surface, sometimes ran with

violence after the dogs, and shortly after seemed with difficulty to

ascend the rising hill, for the elasticity of so vast a body of ice, of

many leagues square, supported by a troubled sea, though in some places

three or four yards in thickness, would, in some degree, occasion an

undulatory motion not unlike that of a sheet of paper accommodating

itself to the surface of a rippling stream. Noises were now likewise

distinctly heard in many directions, like the report of cannon, owing

to the bursting of the ice at some distance.

"The Esquimaux therefore drove with all haste towards the shore,

intending to take up their night-quarters on the south side of the

Nivak. But as it plainly appeared that the ice would break and disperse

in the open sea, Mark advised to push forward to the north of the

Nivak, from whence he hoped the track to Okkak might still remain

entire.

"To this proposal the company agreed, but when the sledges approached

the coast, the prospect before them was truly terrific. The ice

having broken loose from the rocks, was forced up and down, grinding

and breaking into a thousand pieces against the precipices, with a

tremendous noise, which added to the raging of the wind, and the snow

driving about in the air, deprived the travellers almost of the power

of hearing and seeing anything distinctly.

"To make the land at any risk, was now the only hope left, but it was

with the utmost difficulty the frightened dogs could be forced forward,

the whole body of ice sinking frequently below the surface of the

rocks, then rising above it. As the only moment to land was that, when

it gained the level of the coast, the attempt was extremely nice and

hazardous. However, by God's mercy, it succeeded; both sledges gained

the shore, and were drawn up the beach with much difficulty.

"The travellers had hardly time to reflect with gratitude to God on

their safety, when that part of the ice from which they had just now

made good their landing burst asunder, and the water forcing itself

from below, covered and precipitated it into the sea. In an instant,

as if by a signal given, the whole mass of ice, extending for several

miles from the coast, and as far as the eye could reach, began to burst

and be overwhelmed by the immense waves towering above.

"The sight was tremendous and awfully grand; the large fields of ice,

raising themselves out of the water, striking against each other, and

plunging into the deep with a violence not to be described, and a noise

like the discharge of innumerable batteries of heavy guns. The darkness

of the night, the roaring of the wind and sea, and the dashing of the

waves and ice against the rocks, filled the travellers with sensations

of awe and horror, so as almost to deprive them of the power of

utterance. They stood overwhelmed with astonishment at their miraculous

escape, and even the heathen Esquimaux expressed gratitude to God for

their deliverance.

"The Esquimaux now began to build a snow-house, about thirty paces from

the beach; but before they had finished their work, the waves reached

the place where the sledges were secured, and they were with difficulty

saved from being washed into the sea.

[Illustration]

"About nine o'clock all of them crept into the snow-house, thanking

God for this place of refuge; for the wind was piercingly cold and so

violent, that it required great strength to be able to stand against it.

"Before they entered this habitation, they could not help once more

turning to the sea, which was now free from ice, and beheld with

horror, mingled with gratitude, the enormous waves, driving furiously

before the wind, like huge castles, and approaching the shore, where

with dreadful noise, they dashed against the rocks, foaming and filling

the air with the spray. The whole company now got their supper, and

having sung an evening hymn in the Esquimaux language, lay down to rest

about ten o'clock. They lay so close, that if any one stirred, his

neighbours were roused by it.

"The Esquimaux were soon fast asleep, but brother Liebisch could not

get any rest, partly on account of the dreadful roaring of the wind and

sea, and partly owing to a sore throat, which gave him great pain. Both

missionaries were also much engaged in their minds in contemplating

the dangerous situations into which they had been brought, and amidst

all thankfulness for their great deliverance from immediate death,

could not but cry unto their Heavenly Father for his help in this time

of need.

"The wakefulness of the missionaries proved the deliverance of the

whole party from sudden destruction. About two o'clock in the morning,

brother Liebisch perceived some salt water to drop from the roof of the

snow-house upon his lips. Though rather alarmed on tasting the salt,

which could not proceed from a common spray, he kept quiet, till the

same dropping being more frequently repeated, just as he was about to

give the alarm, on a sudden a tremendous surf broke close to the house,

discharging a quantity of water into it; a second soon followed, and

carried away the slab of snow placed as a door before the entrance. The

missionaries immediately called aloud to the sleeping Esquimaux, to

rise and quit the place. They jumped up in an instant, one of them with

a large knife cut a passage through the side of the house, and each

seizing some part of the baggage, it was thrown out upon a higher part

of the beach, brother Turner assisting the Esquimaux. Brother Liebisch

and the woman and child fled to a neighbouring eminence. The latter

were wrapt up by the Esquimaux in a large skin, and the former took

shelter behind a rock, for it was impossible to stand against the wind,

snow, and sleet. Scarcely had the company retreated to the eminence

when an enormous wave carried away the whole house, but nothing of

consequence was lost."

[Illustration]

CHAPTER III.

THE JOURNEY OVER THE ICE CONTINUED.

"They now found themselves a second time delivered from the most

imminent danger of death; but the remaining part of the night,

before the Esquimaux could seek and find another more safe place

for a snow-house, were hours of great trial to mind and body, and

filled every one with painful reflections. Before the day dawned, the

Esquimaux cut a hole into a large drift of snow, to screen the woman

and child, and the two missionaries.

"Brother Liebisch, however, could not bear the closeness of the air,

and was obliged to sit down at the entrance, where the Esquimaux

covered him with skins, to keep him warm, as the pain in his throat was

very great.

"As soon as it was light, they built another snow-house, and miserable

as such an accommodation is at all times, they were glad and thankful

to creep into it. It was about eight feet square and six or seven feet

high. They now congratulated each other on their deliverance, but found

themselves in a very bad plight.

"The missionaries had taken but a small stock of provisions with them,

merely sufficient for the short journey to Okkak. Joel, his wife and

child, and Kassigiak, the sorcerer, had nothing at all. They were

obliged, therefore, to divide the small stock into daily portions,

especially as there appeared no hopes of soon quitting this place and

reaching any dwellings. Only two ways were left for this purpose,

either to attempt the land passage across the wild and unfrequented

mountain Kiglapeit, or wait for a new ice track over the sea, which it

might require much time to form; they therefore resolved to serve out

no more than a biscuit and a half per day.

"But as this would not by any means satisfy an Esquimaux's stomach, the

missionaries offered to give one of their dogs to be killed for them,

on condition, that in case distress obliged them to resort again to

that expedient, the next dog killed should be one of the Esquimaux's

team. They replied that they should be glad of it, if they had a kettle

to boil the flesh in, but as that was not the case, they must even

suffer hunger, for they could not, even now, eat dogs' flesh in its raw

state. The missionaries now remained in the snow-house, and every day

endeavoured to boil so much water over their lamp, as might serve for

two dishes of coffee a-piece. Through mercy, they were preserved in

good health, and brother Liebisch quite unexpectedly recovered on the

first day of his sore throat. The Esquimaux also kept up their spirits,

and even the rough heathen Kassigiak declared, that it was proper to

be thankful that they were still alive, adding, that if they had

remained a very little longer upon the ice yesterday, all their bones

would have been broken to pieces in a short time. He had, however,

his heels frozen, and suffered considerable pain. In the evening, the

missionaries sung an hymn with the Esquimaux, and continued to do it

every morning and evening. God was present with them, and comforted

their hearts by his peace.

"Towards noon of the thirteenth, the weather cleared up and the sea

was seen, as far as the eye could reach, quite freed from ice. Mark

and Joel went up the hills to reconnoitre, and returned with the

disagreeable news that not a morsel of ice was to be seen even from

thence, in any direction, and that it had even been forced away from

the coast at Nuasornak. They were, therefore, of opinion, that we could

do nothing but force our way across the mountain Kiglapeit.

"To-day Kassigiak complained much of hunger, probably to obtain from

the missionaries a larger portion than the common allowance. They

represented to him, that they had no more themselves, and reproved him

for his impatience. Whenever the victuals were distributed, he always

swallowed his portion very greedily, and put out his hand for what he

saw the missionaries had left, but was easily kept from any further

attempt by serious reproof.

"The Esquimaux eat to-day an old sack made of fish-skin, which proved

indeed a dry and miserable dish. While they were at this singular

meal, they kept repeating, in a low humming tone, 'you was a sack but

a little while ago, and now you are food for us.' Towards evening

some flakes of ice were discovered driving towards the coast, and on

the fourteenth in the morning, the sea was covered with them. But the

weather was again very strong, and the Esquimaux could not quit the

snow-house, which made them very low spirited and melancholy. Kassigiak

suggested, that it would be well to attempt to make good weather, by

which he meant to practise his art, as a sorcerer, to make the weather

good.

"The missionaries opposed it, and told him that his heathenish

practices were of no use, but that the weather would become favourable

as soon as it should please God. Kassigiak then asked, whether _Jesus_

could make good weather. He was told, that to _Jesus_ was given all

power in heaven and earth; upon which he demanded, that he should

be applied to. Another time he said, I shall tell my countrymen at

Seglek. The missionaries replied. 'Tell them that in the midst of this

affliction, we placed our only hope and trust in Jesus Christ our

Saviour, who loves all mankind, and has shed his blood to redeem them

from eternal misery.'

"To-day the Esquimaux began to eat an old, filthy, and worn-out skin,

which had served them for a mattress.

"On the fifteenth the weather continued extremely boisterous, and the

Esquimaux appeared every now and then to sink under disappointment.

But they possess one good quality, namely, a power of going to sleep

when they please, and, if need be, they will sleep for days and nights

together.

"In the evening the sky became clear, and their hopes revived. Mark

and Joel went out to reconnoitre, and brought word that the ice had

acquired a considerable degree of solidity, and might soon be fit for

use. The poor dogs had, meanwhile, fasted for nearly four days, but

now in the prospect of a speedy release, the missionaries allowed to

each a few morsels of food. The temperature of the air having been

rather mild, it occasioned a new source of distress, for by the warm

exhalations of the inhabitants, the roof of the snow-house got to be in

a melting state; which occasioned a continual dropping, and by degrees

made every thing soaking wet. The missionaries report, that they

considered this the greatest hardship they had to endure, for they had

not a dry thread about them, nor a dry place to lie down in.

"On the sixteenth early, the sky cleared, but the fine particles of

snow were driven about like clouds. Joel and Kassigiak resolved to

pursue their journey to Okkak, by the way of Nuasornak, and set out,

with the wind and snow full in their faces. Mark could not resolve to

proceed farther north, because, in his opinion, the violence of the

wind had driven the ice off the coast at Tikkerasuk, so as to render it

impossible to land; but he thought he might yet proceed to the south

with safety, and get round Kiglapeit. The missionaries endeavoured to

persuade him to follow the above mentioned company to Okkak, but it was

in vain; and they did not feel at liberty to insist upon it, not being

sufficiently acquainted with the circumstances. Their present distress

dictated the necessity of venturing something to reach the habitations

of men, and yet they were rather afraid of passing over the newly

frozen sea under Kiglapeit, and could not immediately determine what to

do. Brother Turner therefore went again with Mark to examine the ice,

and both seemed satisfied that it would hold. They therefore came at

last to a resolution to return to Nain.

"On the seventeenth, the wind had considerably increased, with heavy

showers of snow and sleet, but they set off at half-past ten o'clock in

the afternoon. Mark ran all the way round Kiglapeit, before the sledge,

that he might find a good track, and about one o'clock, they were quite

out of danger and reached the bay. Here they found a good track upon

smooth ice, made a meal of the remnant of their provisions, and got

some warm coffee. Thus refreshed, they resolved to proceed without

stopping, till they reached Nain, where they arrived at twelve o'clock

at night.

"The brethren at Nain rejoiced exceedingly to see them return, for by

several hints of the Esquimaux, who first met them going out to sea,

and who then in their own obscure way, had endeavoured to warn them

of their danger of the ground-swell, but had not been attended to,

their fellow-missionaries, and especially their wives, had been much

terrified. One of these Esquimaux, whose wife had made some article of

dress for brother Liebisch, whom they called Samuel, addressed her in

the following manner:--'I should be glad of the payment for my wife's

work.' 'Wait a little,' answered sister Liebisch, 'and when my husband

returns he will settle with you, for I am unacquainted with the bargain

made between you.' 'Samuel and William,' replied the Esquimaux, 'will

not return any more to Nain.' 'How not return! what makes you say so?'

After some pause the Esquimaux replied in a low tone, 'Samuel and

William are no more! all their bones are broken, and in the stomachs of

the sharks.'

"Terrified at this alarming account, sister Liebisch called in the

rest of the family, and the Esquimaux was examined as to his meaning;

but his answers were little less obscure. He seemed so certain of the

destruction of the missionaries, that he was with difficulty prevailed

on to wait some time for their return. He could not believe that they

could have escaped the effects of so furious a tempest, considering the

course they were taking.

"It may easily be conceived, with what gratitude to God the whole

family at Nain bid them welcome. During the storm, they had considered

with some dread, what might be the fate of their brethren, though at

Nain its violence was not felt so much as on a coast, unprotected by

any islands. Added to this, the hints of the Esquimaux had considerably

increased their apprehensions for their safety, and their fears began

to get the better of their hopes. All therefore joined most fervently

in praise and thanksgiving to God, for this signal deliverance."

CHAPTER IV.

THE WHALE.

It seems strange that the largest animal in nature should live in

these regions, where you would think everything must be starved by the

cold. But so it is, and it should lead you to reflect, how wonderfully

the principle which animates living beings, by the outward form and

constitution which it gives to the bodies of animals, adapts them to

support the various circumstances in which they are placed.

There are many kinds of whale which all agree in these particulars.

They are very much larger than any other creatures existing; they live

in the sea and yet suckle their young with milk, and have warm blood

and lungs like land animals, so that they can only breathe by putting

their heads above water. Some people have doubted whether it was proper

to call the whale a fish, but on the whole it is certainly more like

fishes than it is like any other of the great divisions of animals,

seeing that it swims with fins, and cannot live out of the water.

[Illustration]

The Greenland whale (naturalists call it _Balena Mysticetus_,) is the

most important of the varieties, as it is the one which produces train

oil in the largest quantities, and whalebone. In common with all the

others, it is a most awkward looking creature. Here is a picture of

one. Its usual length is from 40 to 60 feet; and the circumference of

its body about 40. It not unfrequently weighs 60 or 70 tons, which is

more than the weight of 180 fat oxen.

The tail is commonly about 6 feet long, and 25 feet wide. It lies flat

upon the water, and is what the creature principally uses in swimming,

for the fins near the head appear to be used merely to keep the body

steady in the water. It is also a weapon of defence, and possesses

prodigious strength, as you shall hear by and by.

The inside of the mouth is, perhaps, the most wonderful part of the

whale, both from its size and construction. I was once in one, which

was 15 feet in length and 7 feet wide.

It is from the mouth that the _Whalebone_, as it is called, comes.

The jaws are not furnished with teeth, but in their place there is

something which forms a curious sort of shrimp-trap, which I will

describe to you. The whalebone is ranged along in blades upon the jaws,

like the laths of a Venetian blind, and the inner edge of each blade

is furnished with a fringe of fibrous stuff almost like hair.

The natural position of the whale's mouth seems to be open, and it

mostly swims along or lies near the surface, with its lower jaw hanging

down. Little fish and insects, most of them of the smallest size,

thus come in contact with the smooth edge of the blades of bone, slip

between them, and become entangled in the hairy fringe of the inner

edge, so that they can never get out again. When the whale thinks he

has got enough in his mouth, he immediately raises his enormous lower

jaw and swallows. One of his mouthfuls must often consist of millions

of living creatures, respecting the kinds of which I shall have

something to tell you in a future page.

I told you that he was obliged to rise to the surface of the water to

breathe. You would like to see him ascend for this purpose, and snort

out a jet of thick vapour to the height of twenty feet, or more, and

making such a noise, as may be heard at a distance of several miles.

[Illustration]

Under the skin, all over the body, there is a covering of yellowish

fat of about a foot thick, which keeps the animal warm, answering the

same purpose as the fur does on land animals. It is necessary, because

the whale is not cold in the inside like other fish, but has warm,

red blood, which is of a higher temperature even than that of a human

being. This is another circumstance which becomes the more remarkable

from the cold climate in which he lives.

This fat is generally called blubber, and is what the oil comes from.

When first it is taken from the whale, it has not the least unpleasant

smell, and it is not till the cargo is unstowed that a whale ship is at

all disagreeable.

The largest sort of whale is called the _razor back_, from a ridge that

runs along his back. They are often 100 feet in length. I never saw one

of these taken, but the sailors told me that they were very difficult

to come near, and after all, not worth the trouble of killing, for they

have very little blubber.

Then there is the Cachalot, or Sperm Whale, which is smaller, and much

more slender than the common whale. It has teeth, and is of a very

quarrelsome temper. It often fights with its own kind, and I have seen

several of them which had been wounded in the jaws, and made blind by

such conflicts. It is from the head of this animal that spermaceti is

obtained.

A number of vessels are sent out every year to catch these great

creatures, and this is the way in which they manage their work. Every

vessel is furnished with five or six boats which are hung on the sides

of the vessel in such a way as to be easily lowered into the water on

the shortest notice. One or two of the boats are usually kept upon the

look out, in each of which there is a harpoon attached to a rope above

700 feet in length, and about as thick as a man's thumb. This is the

shape of the harpoon.

[Illustration]

When they see a whale showing himself above the surface of the water,

the man who is to throw the harpoon, stations himself at the bow, and

the rest pull away as fast as they are able till they approach the

whale as near as possible, and this is often to within a very short

distance in consequence of his being slower of hearing than most other

animals.

The harpooner then throws the harpoon with all his might, and if he

is lucky, it goes through the poor creature's skin and blubber, into

his flesh. The moment he feels the wound, he mostly sinks to a great

depth, and drags out the line which is carefully coiled at the bottom

of the boat, at a tremendous rate. One man stands by with a mop to keep

the edge of the boat over which the rope runs constantly wet, lest

the friction should set the boat on fire, and another holds a hatchet

ready to chop it in two in case it should become entangled. If it goes

out smoothly, they add lines as long as they are necessary: and on

one occasion, for a whale which was very refractory, Captain Scoresby

actually joined together three miles and three quarters of rope, the

weight of which was nearly two tons! Was not this a great fishing-line?

As soon as the whale is struck, they hoist a flag, and the men who are

in the ship, and constantly upon the look out, immediately come to

their assistance. If the signal is made when any of them are asleep, up

they come with their clothes under their arms, and dress afterwards

as they can, for not a moment is to be lost. This is no joke, when the

cold is more than thirty degrees below the freezing point.

[Illustration]

However, they are obliged to go; and as many boats as there may be,

then watch anxiously for the re-appearance of the whale on the surface.

As soon as he shows himself, the men of the other boats immediately

strike their harpoons into him, and so secure him till he is faint from

loss of blood, and at last comes up to the surface, spouting out blood

mixed with the vapour from his nostrils. They then despatch him with an

instrument called a lance, and the great carcass rolls over upon its

back. It is afterwards lashed by strong ropes to the side of the ship,

and the blubber is cut up into lumps of convenient size, and stowed in

casks.

It occasionally happens, after the harpooner has thrown his weapon,

that the creature in agony, flaps about his tail with tremendous

violence before he goes down. Many boats have been upset in this

manner, and Captain Scoresby relates an instance of a boat being dashed

completely in two.

Some people have thought the whale a very stupid creature, but there

does not seem much ground for this notion, though we can never be in a

condition to see much of its instinctive wisdom. As far as we can see,

it is the very best thing it could do when struck by the harpoon, to

go downwards as it does; and this seems to prove that it has quite its

share of intelligence; and it is still more remarkable, that if a mass

of ice be near when it is pursued, either before or after it has been

struck, it gets under it as quickly as possible, and often thus baffles

its pursuers.

But the most interesting thing in the character of the whale is, its

extreme love for its offspring, and a cruel use is often made by the

whalers of this beautiful disposition. They often strike a _cub_ or

_sucker_, as they call the young whales, which would not be worth

taking itself, because they know its mother will instantly expose

herself to an attack in its defence. You shall hear what Captain

Scoresby says on this, "When the young whale is struck, its mother

joins it at the surface of the water, whenever it has occasion to

rise for respiration; encourages it to swim off; assists its flight,

by taking it under her fin; and seldom deserts it while life remains.

She is then dangerous to approach; but affords frequent opportunities

for attack. She loses all regard for her own safety, in anxiety for

the preservation of her young;--dashes through the midst of her

enemies;--despises the danger that threatens her;--and even voluntarily

remains with her offspring, after various attacks on herself from the

harpoons of the fishers. In June 1811, one of my harpooners struck a

sucker, with the hope of its leading to the capture of the mother.

Presently she arose close by the 'fast-boat;' and seizing the young

one, dragged about a hundred fathoms of line out of the boat with

remarkable force and velocity. Again she arose to the surface; darted

furiously to and fro; frequently stopped short, or suddenly changed her

direction, and gave every possible intimation of extreme agony. For a

length of time she continued thus to act, though closely pursued by the

boats; and, inspired with courage and resolution by her concern for her

offspring, seemed regardless of the danger which surrounded her. At

length, one of the boats approached so near, that a harpoon was hove at

her. It hit, but did not attach itself. A second harpoon was struck;

this also failed to penetrate: but a third was more effectual, and

held. Still she did not attempt to escape, but allowed other boats to

approach; so that, in a few minutes, three more harpoons were fastened;

and, in the course of an hour afterwards, she was killed."

CHAPTER V.

A VOYAGE ON A TROPICAL SEA.

To you, my little friends, who have always lived in a climate in which

it seems as if the wind changed, and it became sun-shiny or cloudy, wet

or dry, cold or hot, without any law or regularity, it is something

strange to hear of places where the inhabitants know almost to a day

that the wind will blow constantly in one direction during so many

months in the year, and constantly in some other direction during the

rest: and where, with equal certainty, they know when to expect rain

and when fine weather.

The truth is, our changeable weather is under the influence of laws

quite as certain and fixed as their uniform weather is, only that there

are more partial causes operating in our climate, so that the effects

are not so strictly periodical. We know as little about the way in

which the laws operate in one case, as in the other.

The winds that always blow in one direction are called the Trade Winds,

and those which blow in one direction regularly during a certain

portion of the year, are called monsoons. They make navigation in some

parts of the ocean, very certain, and you cannot think how odd it seems

to a young sailor the first time he sails in them. He leads then a

lazy sort of life; there is no tacking about, but day after day he has

nothing to do but just such things as might be done on land.

When the sailors of Columbus first found themselves in the Trade Wind

blowing from the eastward, having sailed before it for many days, they

gave themselves up to despair, because they thought they should never

be able to make their way back against it to their dear native country.

They did not know that it would by and by blow quite as certainly in

another direction.

These uniform winds blow only within a certain distance of the equator,

and the cause of them is this. The heat of the climate there occasions

the air next to the surface of the earth to be always ascending, and

other air rushes in from other parts of the world to supply its place.

The motion of the earth upon its axis operates with this, by bringing

the parts of its surface successively in contact with any certain point

in the atmosphere, which does not revolve so rapidly as the earth

itself, and a fixed direction is thus given to the wind.

But it is still much more dull to find one's self in a calm on a

tropical sea. Only imagine to yourselves a stagnant and shoreless

sea, often with unsightly masses of sea-weed floating on it, a sky

constantly of a gloomy-looking red, and nothing to be seen day after

day except this sky and sea; insupportable thirst and bad water to

quench it, and the ship all the time rocking to and fro with a nasty

dull motion, and the ropes and sails idly flapping against the mast and

yards.

But though I have seen and felt all this, I cannot describe it to you

so well as the poet, so I will give you his words.

"Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down,

'Twas sad as sad could be,

And we did speak only to break

The silence of the sea.

"All in a hot and copper sky,

The bloody sun at noon,

Right up above the mast did stand

No bigger than the moon.

"Day after day, day after day,

We stuck, nor breath nor motion;

As idle as a painted ship

Upon a painted ocean.

"Water, water, everywhere,

And all the boards did shrink;

Water, water, everywhere,

Nor any drop to drink."

CHAPTER VI.

THE WATER-SPOUT.

Well! one morning when we were only a few leagues off the West Coast of

Africa, to the South of the Cape Verd Islands, we thought we were going

to have just such a calm as the poet has described. There had been a

violent storm during the night, but every breath of wind had died away,

and left a long sleepy swell upon the sea.

About nine o'clock, we noticed a cloud rising, or rather seeming to

form, at some distance from us, and just below it a white spot of foam

appeared on the surface of the water, and the waves raged over a little

round space in a way that made me feel I don't know how, for I had

never seen such a thing before. The cloud grew blacker and blacker, and

presently seemed to move down towards the sea and swell out in the same

direction, as if to provoke the waves below, which seemed straining up

towards it.

[Illustration: PLATE XIII.

WATER SPOUTS]

There suddenly seemed to grow out of the middle of the spot of waves,

a complete pillar of water of a tapering shape, and at the same moment

the lower part of the cloud seemed to condense and turn to water, and

shot downwards in a cone to meet it. They united and formed one pillar,

almost as distinct as if it had been of ice instead of water. You will

see a correct representation of this in the picture.

The size at the base must have been very large, not less than 250 feet

in diameter, but it tapered off so much that at the middle it was not

more than three or four feet. Above the middle it increased in size,

and its solidity seemed to get gradually less till it ended in a great

black cloud. Its height might have been about 700 feet.

Its form changed considerably. It generally seemed as if it was

composed of water sucked upwards in a spiral direction, and looked

almost like a great cable; but now and then it looked like a simple

hollow tube.

Sometimes it inclined a little one way, and then another; and sometimes

it was very considerably bent, and then suddenly straightened itself

again.

When the ship was nearest to it, we heard a noise from it like the

rushing of a waterfall, and before it was over, heavy rain came on with

lightning, but no thunder. The wind all the time was very unsteady,

though it was not violent.

While we were looking at it, two smaller ones formed at some distance

under very nearly the same circumstances. One of them stood quite still

for some seconds, and then disappeared; but the other moved steadily on

in a straight line, for several minutes.

The great one continued moving also very slowly for nearly half an

hour, and then seemed to snap in two, and one half sank rapidly into

the sea, as if it had been unhooked from above, and the other half

remained hanging from the cloud for some time, and then curled upwards

and disappeared, throwing down a heavy torrent of rain.

I have seen many water-spouts since, in my voyages over the great

ocean, but have never been so struck with the appearance of any one as

of this.

There is a common notion that a cannon fired at a water-spout, will

disperse it by making a great concussion of the air; but I do not

think that this is true, unless the water-spout be very small. At all

events, it was not true in this case, for we fired right at the large

one several times, and it took no effect except in splashing the water

about as the ball went through.

It is also generally imagined that they are very dangerous to ships,

and if they come close, that they throw such a quantity of water into

them as to sink them. I have somewhere read an account of a vessel

having once been put in danger by one off the Coast of Guinea, and two

or three of the men being washed overboard, and I once saw the sails

and deck of a vessel, made very wet by a small one, myself. But my own

opinion is, that there is not much to be dreaded from them, for they

are not a solid mass of water, but merely condensed vapour in the form

of a tube, with a hollow space in the middle. And I think if you were

right under one of them, it would be no worse than rain descending in

very large drops.

[Illustration]

Once I saw a much smaller water-spout on land. It was a gusty, cloudy

day, and the wind had changed several times, when a dark cloud at some

distance from where I was, extended downwards till it came nearly to a

point.

It seemed to reach about three-fourths of the distance from the cloud

to the ground, and moved along slowly for about ten minutes. When I

afterwards made inquiry of the people over whose houses it passed, they

told me that it had let fall in its progress a tremendous quantity of

rain, so as considerably to injure several houses.

HOW PARLEY SUPPOSES WATER-SPOUTS TO BE CAUSED.

I suppose you would now like me to tell you how water-spouts are

caused. I wish I could, for your sakes; and, besides, I should very

much like to know myself. I have, however, a tolerable guess upon the

subject, and that I will tell you of.

I dare say you have often seen little eddies of wind which take up

dust, straw, and other light substances, and carry them up, twirling

them round in a spiral direction like a cork-screw.

When these occur on a larger scale, they are called whirlwinds, and are

often very destructive in their effects, unroofing houses, and doing

various other mischief. They are sometimes occasioned by draughts of

air being disturbed in their course by mountains or hills, and meeting

each other. But the largest are caused by two or more currents of wind,

produced by what ordinarily influences the direction of the wind,

meeting from different quarters, and then twisting round each other

just as two strings, with weights at their ends, would do if you swung

them forcibly together so as to meet about the middle.

A whirlwind occurred some years ago, near where I was living; it lasted

about ten minutes, and produced some very curious effects. It first met

with a milk-maid, who was carrying a pail of milk upon her head, and

tore off her bonnet along with the pail, and carried both to a great

distance, where they were not found till some days afterwards. It next

twisted a wagon in pieces, and blew most of the fragments over a wall;

it unroofed a house, and carried some of the tiles to a great distance;

next it dashed through the window of the room where I was sitting,

swept all the ornaments off the mantelpiece, and made strange havock

with some of the furniture. It then passed on to a neighbouring park,

where it tore up several trees. The wind had not been extremely violent

before, neither was it immediately afterwards.

Suppose a cloud happens to be exactly in the point of union of two

currents of wind, meeting as they did in this whirlwind, it then

becomes twisted in along with them, and partially condensed; and if

it is over the land, this is all that seems necessary to form the

water-spout.

And if it happens to be over the sea, the wind, as it eddies round,

works up the waves into a ferment, and much spray and foam is produced,

which is twisted in with the whirlwind in the same manner as the cloud,

and carried upwards to meet it.

Whether this is just the way in which the thing takes place, or not,

it is pretty certain that the water-spout is caused by the meeting of

winds from various quarters, from what Dr. Franklin tells us in one of

his letters which I read the other day. He says that a sailor informed

him that he was in one of three vessels which chanced to be placed as

at the three corners of a triangle; a water-spout was formed between

them which seemed to be to the leeward of each of them.

[Illustration]

The cut will enable you to understand what I mean. The star in the

middle represents the water-spout, and the three arrows the directions

in which each of the three vessels found the wind come, which shows

that three diverse currents of air all set towards the water-spout.

CHAPTER VII.

CORAL REEFS AND ISLANDS.

When we were sailing through the Pacific Ocean, I saw a great many

coral reefs and islands; and perhaps there is hardly one of the

wonderful things which I have seen in my travels, that I remember with

more pleasure, or love more to think about, so I shall be glad to tell

you all I know of them.

You are acquainted with the appearance of Coral, as you have often seen

pieces of it in cabinets, and employed as ornaments; and you therefore

know that it always abounds with little holes, but its form, and the

shape of these holes, vary considerably. Some of it occurs in branches,

like the branches of trees, and in consequence of this, and because

it was known to increase in size from time to time, it was taken for a

marine plant, before its nature was fully investigated. The openings

in this sort are placed in the form of stars, as you will see in this

little piece of one of the branches magnified.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

Sometimes it is in large roundish masses, called brain stones, from its

resemblance to the brain of an animal; the openings are then long holes

placed in two rows between high ridges, like this.

[Illustration]

And a third form is found consisting of thin pieces, thinner than

writing paper, placed on edge, spreading out from a centre, or from a

line down the middle of a long strip, and the openings are then plain

deep furrows, running from the middle to the outside.

[Illustration]

There is also the precious red Coral of which beads and other trinkets

are made, found principally in the Mediterranean Sea, and several other

sorts, more or less rare. But what I have described to you are the

commonest.

This curious substance extends over hundreds of miles in various parts

of the Tropical Seas, in islands of different forms. But before I

describe these to you, I must tell you what is known respecting the

little animals by which it is manufactured, for it is proved to be the

work of certain kinds of the little creatures called Polypes.

THE CORAL-MAKING POLYPES.

The Polypes are a kind of animals apparently of very simple structure,

without bones, or shells, or heads, or brains. They have very large

mouths surrounded by a great number of _tentacula_, or feelers, which

are threads of flesh possessing the sense of touch in great perfection;

and to these _tentacula_ they owe the name _Polypes_, which comes from

two Greek words signifying _many feet_. The ancient naturalists who

named them, I suppose did not know but that they were feet.

[Illustration: PLATE XIV.

ACTINIÆ CORAL BUILDERS]

If this was the case, they were not, however, quite right. Most kinds

of Polypes very seldom move from one place to another in any way,

but stick themselves upon a rock by means of the flat part of their

bodies, and there remain; and when they let go they generally suffer

themselves to be washed by the waves to some other place, where they

can conveniently fix again. If you have ever been at Brighton, or

at any other places by the sea side, for any length of time, I dare

say you have seen the _sea anemones_, or _sea flowers_, as they are

called, carried round by the fish people to show to their customers;

or possibly you may have seen them in the holes on the rocks. They are

proper Polypes, and the scientific name of them is _Actiniæ_. As they

lead their lazy lives as if they were rooted in the rock, when they are

hungry they spread out their tentacula to catch any little insects or

minute fish, such as crabs and shrimps, which may come in their way.

The instant they feel anything, they close in all their tentacula with

surprising force. It is worth while to put one's finger just in the

centre of one of these "flowers," to feel how strongly they can draw

anything in. I have seen one suck in a little crab half as large as its

own body, in this manner.

When closed up they look an insensible lump of pulpy flesh, but when

their fringe of tentacula is expanded, they are very beautiful indeed,

and exhibit various rich colours. You may see them in each state in the

plate (fig. 1.), where one is represented closed up, and two are open.

If one of these curious creatures is cut into several pieces in certain

directions, each piece will become an animal. You will say that this

seems more like a plant which is propagated by cuttings, than a proper

animal. But for all this, and although it only appears to possess

the same sort of sensibility, in regard to light and touch, as some

plants do, I can give you a very good reason for its being considered

as an animal,--it can move itself according to its own _will_, and

in choosing the time in which it moves, it exhibits instinctive

intelligence. When it finds its little inch of rock in any respect

inconvenient from its being too high above low water mark, or not

sufficiently in the way of the little creatures on which it wants to

satisfy its appetite, it sucks in a great quantity of water, and swells

itself out so as to become nearly as light as the water, and then

looses its hold and continues to float about till it comes in contact

with some more convenient home. When I first saw them thus full of

water, and carried about by the waves, I thought they were dead.

Now the coral builders are all of the same general character as the

Actiniæ, in the construction of their bodies, their various colours,

great mouths surrounded by feelers, and habits of taking their meals.

But besides their being such wonderful architects, they differ from the

English creature in being very sociable, and living together in immense

companies. When you read of the Pyramids of Egypt, or of any other

great structures, you may justly think them wonderful proofs of what

the labours of many men may do when directed to a single object; but

here you have not houses, pyramids, cities, nor even mere islands, but

whole continents constructed by the combined labours of little insects.

I cannot tell you, neither can any one else, in what manner these

little workmen perform their work. It is only certain that they have

some faculty by which they appropriate the particles of carbonate of

lime contained in the sea water, and dispose them in the various forms

I have mentioned to you. When the coral is in progress, it is coated

with a soft gluey sort of substance, and over the star-like clusters

of openings, there may be seen, when the creatures are hungry, little

rosettes of tentacula, more beautiful than you can conceive.

In fig. 2 of the plate, you may see some of these animals showing their

rich rosettes on a piece of branch coral, such as is represented in the

first wood cut, page 204.

There is another sort of branch coral, where the animal always lives at

the end of the branch, the whole of which it has to itself, and will

then spread out its tentacula in a star on the extremity, as you may

see in figs. 3 and 4.

In fig. 5, you may see one of the animals which construct the sort of

coral represented in the cut, page 205.

Since these little creatures can lay down their tentacula in the

openings of their stony houses, when they are not hungry, or when they

are alarmed by the approach of anything that would hurt them, they do

not want the tough skin with which the Actinia is covered, but have

bodies of a very soft and yielding texture.

FORMS OF THE CORAL REEFS.

As I have now introduced to you, as well as I can by means of

description and pictures, the inhabitants of these wonderful submarine

continents, I shall now tell you something of the form in which they

arrange their habitations. Those that I saw about the Society and

Friendly Islands, were mostly in three different conditions. One kind

forms a nearly circular reef, sometimes with an opening in it. It is a

part of the common design of the Polypes always to make this opening

on the Leeward side, when the place is one in which any particular

wind blows during a great part of the year. I cannot tell you why

this is, but it is constantly observed wherever coral reefs are found.

This peculiarity makes the enclosed spaces of water, (which are called

Lagoons,) capital harbours for ships to anchor in, for they are nearly

always smooth, the windward side of the reef acting as a breakwater.

Here is a map of three reefs of this form, in a part of the ocean where

the prevailing wind is South East, and you will see all the openings

are towards the North West.

[Illustration]

Another sort have an island of which the foundation is coral, in the

middle of a ring like the above; and a third sort are merely the same

kind of rings round large islands, composed of other sorts of rocks and

earth. A very great number of the islands hereabouts,--perhaps most of

them, are surrounded in this manner.

I well remember the first impressions which the sight of a coral

reef made upon me. I always like to treasure up in my mind the first

impression produced by a beautiful scene; for however wonderful the

objects may be, when you have seen them many times, you become in some

degree indifferent to them. This first impression that I am going to

describe to you, is a continual feast to me when I think upon it, and I

wish you could enjoy it with me.

The first parts of the reef we saw were black, roundish masses,

standing up out of the water, having just the appearance of black men's

heads, and when I asked the sailors what they were, they told me they

were "negroes' heads." I was curious, as you may suppose, to know what

they could be, and I afterwards found they were masses of coral, which

were not covered by the sea, except at very high tides, and had become

blackened by the weather.

The sun was shining brightly, and there was a smart breeze. The waves

breaking over the ragged surface of the coral threw up abundance of

spray, which the sun's rays, every now and then, painted with the most

beautiful rainbow colours. We sailed through an opening, and when we

had got into the Lagoon, the sea was perfectly smooth. The water was as

clear as crystal, and we saw the bottom, and what was going on there,

nearly as well as if we had been close to it, though the depth was very

considerable.

[Illustration]

No flower garden was ever more exquisitely varied, both as to form and

colour, than the scene under the water. The coral itself, standing

up in the forms of shrubs, wheat-sheaves, mushrooms, stags'-horns,

cabbages, and cauliflowers, was mostly covered with millions of the

little polypes, displaying their graceful rosettes of green, purple,

yellow, brown and white. Among these were strewn innumerable shells

from the smallest to the largest, and amongst the most conspicuous

were the gigantic clams, of which many specimens weigh hundreds of

pounds.

Then there were seen fish darting in and out as they

"With quick glance,

Showed to the Sun their waved coats dropt with gold,"

the variegated Zebra fish, and a hundred other species, often popping

up from deep holes and caves, of which we could not see the bottom. All

seemed life, beauty, and enjoyment, and when I had looked at it a long

time, it brought to my mind the time when God looked upon what he had

formed, and said that it was good, for you could not wish anything to

be different from what it was; the scene appeared faultless, and quite

filled up the heart with emotions of love and beauty.

This reef was one of those which surrounded a good-sized island. The

cut will show you nearly how it appeared to be situated in regard to

the land; _a_ is the land; _b_ the coral; and _c_ the Lagoon, the

width of which was about a quarter of a mile.

[Illustration]

There were in it several masses of coral of a very curious shape, such

as I have since found always exist in Lagoons. They are first built up

in the form of a sugar-loaf, and when they get up somewhere between

high and low-water-mark, the polypes extend them at the sides so as

to make a sort of mushroom top, closely resembling the stones which

farmers place ricks upon, to keep them out of the way of rats and mice.

Their constructing these rocks in the sugar-loaf form, so as to make

them as firm as possible, is a proof that the labours of the polypes

are directed by a common instinct, and that each one does not do as he

likes, without regard to the rest. I suppose the reason why they spread

them out at top, is because they love best the highest habitations they

can get, that are not quite out of the water; and therefore as many

polypes as can, make their residences there.

As the tide went down, a considerable space of the shore of the reef

was left dry, towards the Lagoon, where it slanted off gently. Upon

this there were some of the large clam shells, such as you saw a

cut of just now. They generally lay about half open, but they would

occasionally shut their shells together with a loud report, and then

spout up a stream of water three or four feet high. We boiled one of

these fish and tasted it, but found it very disagreeable. The fish

weighed about four pounds, and the shell about fifty. There were many

of a much larger size.

The reefs towards the sea outside the Lagoons go down very suddenly,

and the soundings are generally deep, close alongside them. This is

ascribed to their being built upon the tops of submarine hills and

mountains, for it is believed that the polypes cannot work at very

great depths.

The surface of the reef is seldom quite so high as high-water-mark; but

they sometimes go along an incredible distance without interruption,

very near that point. The inhabitants of the group of islands called

Disappointment Islands, and also of those called Duff's Islands, pay

visits to each other over a bridge of coral 600 miles in length, on a

great part of which their feet are close to the water, so that they

look when on their journey at the time of high-water, just like troops

marching on the surface of the ocean.

The natives of some of the Polynesian islands have actually employed

some of these wonderful little masons to build quays and piers. The

way they do this, is to break off large masses of coral from any reef

that may be near, and drop them down where they want to form the pier.

In a short time the polypes will have stuck them together as firmly

as possible. In an island called Barabora, a very fine quay has been

thus constructed, where a good-sized vessel may conveniently take in or

discharge its cargo.

There were once coral islands where England is now, for in many

counties fossil coral is found in great quantities. It is indeed most

likely that there are large tracts in every part of the world, which

owe their existence to the labours of polypes.

This would most probably be the history of the formation of one of

these tracts, if it were in the Pacific Ocean. A volcanic eruption

would throw up a mountain from the bottom of the sea, the top of which

might be 60 or 70 feet below the surface. As soon as the eruption had

ceased, some polypes who may have left their position on a neighbouring

reef, might be brought by the tide into contact with the summit, and

would immediately begin to work. The race of polypes would multiply,

and the building would go on year after year, till the reef reached the

surface. Pieces of wood which are always drifting about in the ocean,

might be washed into the Lagoon and rest upon the shore. A little soil

might thus be formed in the course of years, and a cocoa-nut or some

other sort of seed, which would equally well bear soaking in the salt

water, might be brought from some distant land, and may take root and

produce a tree. The steady trade winds would also bring some of those

seeds which are provided with wings, such as thistles. Various sea

birds might build their nests upon the infant land, which would thus be

increased in a hundred different ways. Small animals driven out to sea

on pieces of timber or trees, torn away from their original position

by hurricanes, might land upon it; and after a succession of ages, man

would take possession, and a populous country in time be formed.

If you are fond of poetry, you would be much pleased with a very

beautiful description of such a process as this, in James Montgomery's

poem, called the Pelican Island, which you should read.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE LUMINOUS APPEARANCE OF THE SEA.

If you were to go on a long voyage, there is nothing that you would be

much more pleased with, than the occasional bright appearance of the

sea at night. You might see this in all latitudes, but more frequently

in the tropical, than in colder climates. It occurs in a variety

of modes, and, as it seems, arises from several different causes.

Sometimes the wake of the vessel looks like a waving line of beautiful

silver light; sometimes the surface will be studded with spots of

bright light, about as large as your heads; not unfrequently you may

see large islands of light; and now and then a shoal of Albicores,

or some other fish, will pass the vessel, shaking sparks of dazzling

brightness from their fins in all directions.

It has been supposed by some that the brightness in the track of a

vessel, and that which sparkles and flashes in the spray on the tops of

the waves, is electrical light: whether it is so or not, I cannot tell

you.

The effect is, no doubt, sometimes produced by decayed animal and

vegetable bodies, which appear bright in the dark. I dare say you have

seen the bodies of dead fish, and the surface of rotten wood have

this appearance. The particles in which the brightness exists are so

small, that you cannot see them, for, if you touch the luminous body,

particularly if it is a stinking fish, your fingers will immediately

appear bright in the dark, and when you look at them in the light, you

will not be able to see anything on the surface of the skin.

But the most wonderful and extensive cause of all, is the existence

of countless myriads of fish and insects, which are supplied with a

fluid substance that oozes out of their bodies, and shines with a

greenish light upon their surface. Some of them may easily be taken,

by dropping over a net where the luminous spots appear. A few of them

are small shell-fish, of the crab or lobster kind. However, the greater

part are an immense family of creatures called _Acalephæ_, or _sea

nettles_. The word _Acalepha_ is the Greek for a sting nettle, and they

are so called for a reason which I will tell you presently.

[Illustration]

There are a great many different forms of them, but they mostly agree

in having their bodies shaped something like an umbrella, with long

filaments hanging down from them. This is a picture of one of the

kind called Berenice. It takes its name from the resemblance of its

filaments, to the long hair of a lady. Berenice was the wife of a

warrior, who made a vow to sacrifice the hair of her head, which was

singularly beautiful, to Venus, if her husband returned from some

successful exploit in which he was engaged. He did so, and the lady

accordingly hung up her hair in the temple of Venus, and thereby gained

the honor of giving her name to a constellation called the hair of

Berenice, and the curious animal figured in the cut.

The substance of the body is a mere mass of jelly, mostly quite

transparent, but sometimes tinged with blue or green; and when deprived

of life it becomes merely a salt liquid, and an extremely thin skin,

weighing only a few grains.

The mouth is underneath, in amongst the filaments, which seem to be

placed where they are for the purpose of entangling small fish and

insects, to hold them till the Acalepha can swallow them. A very great

number of them are of a kind called Medusa, from the resemblance of

their filaments to the snakes, which were said to take the place of

hair upon the head of Medusa, one of the Furies. One or two sorts have

a crest which they erect as a sail, and thus move along before the

wind, on the surface of the sea, in calm weather. I will show you the

picture of one of these called the Physalia.

[Illustration]

The size varies from that of a pin's head, to a foot or more in

diameter, and it is said that some have been found to weigh as much as

50 pounds. Their weight is a very little more in proportion to their

bulk than that of salt water, and they keep themselves afloat on the

surface, as long as they are inclined, by moving very slowly along,

which they do by alternately contracting and expanding a very light

ring of muscle, which surrounds the umbrella. When they are tired of

their snail's gallop, or they want to descend on any other account,

they cease moving, and down they go. In this respect they are just

like a man swimming, who sinks if he ceases to strike with his limbs.

There are some species peculiar to hot climates, where they are

generally larger, and more luminous; and some to cold. But what is

wanting in size is amply made up in number, in the Arctic regions. A

certain naturalist calculated by a fair average, how many Acalephæ

there were in two square miles of sea, and the result of his

calculation would fill up a whole line of this work with figures; you

may judge something of it, by his saying that to count the number would

have taken 80,000 persons all the time that has elapsed since the

creation of the world, counting as fast as they could! It is on these

creatures, most of them so small that they cannot be seen without a

microscope, that the vast bodies of the whales are supported, caught in

the wonderful shrimp-trap, which I described to you in a former page!

Two or three kinds are found on your own shores, and I should not

wonder if some of you may not before now have found them lying on

the sea-shore, which the tide has left dry, and taken them up in

your hands. If so, I am sure you will not forget it, nor be in any

difficulty to know why they are called _sea nettles_. They have a

stinging power, which will make the hand smart that touches them.

This is owing to a caustic fluid with which a part of their bodies is

constantly covered.

It is this caustic fluid which is luminous. It oozes through the skin

all round the muscular ring by which they move, and at the large

filaments. The whole body of the creature looks bright, but it is only

from the light transmitted by these parts. You may get a very fair

notion of the appearance of one of their bodies, by rubbing together

two partly transparent pebbles in the dark; the light is of nearly

the same colour, and though it is only produced just at the points of

contact of the pebbles, it illuminates their whole substance.

As they move along they are much brighter when they contract their

bodies, than when they expand them; this is because in contracting they

press out the luminous fluid. I will tell you of some experiments and

observations, which have been made on them.

The body of an Acalepha was squeezed over a glass of warm fresh water,

and the fluid that dropped out communicated its luminous property to

the water. The same was then done with a glass of warm salt water, but

the effect was not nearly so great.

One was squeezed over a vessel containing nearly a quart of milk, which

it made so resplendent that one could see to read by it. The milk

retained its brightness for several hours, and when it faded, it could

be restored by stirring: even three days afterwards it was made bright

by being warmed.

In this manner the Acalephæ communicate a slight degree of light to the

sea-water, in which they swim; but, if they are put into fresh water,

the light spreads much further.

I have often seen them round the ship, looking like so many moons,

and emitting light enough for me to read by, some on the surface, and

others at various depths below it. Their appearance was exquisitely

beautiful when the weather was still and the night dark; but as I

thought about it, I could not help having something of a melancholy

feeling at the strange kind of half-life these creatures lead. They

might enjoy themselves, but I could not tell how, for they had no sight

nor hearing; they loved no light except their own selfish light; they

moved about in the open sea, without seeming to enjoy their freedom,

for they did not care which way they moved; they had no fixed homes or

neighbourhoods to love, like the coral insects; and above all, they did

not care for their kind, for they appear to come near each other only

by chance as the wind or the waves may drive them.

But as they were created by God, their life was given them for some

wise end, and no doubt they have something to do in creation, and they

are capable of enjoyment, though perhaps of nothing that would be

enjoyment to us.

[Illustration]

[Illustration: PLATE XV.

SEPIAS]

CHAPTER IX.

THE CUTTLE FISH.

Have you ever seen the bone of a cuttle fish? It is a flat, white, very

light thing, about the shape and size of a small sole, or flat fish,

which may be often picked up on the sea-shore. One side is covered

with a very hard substance, which stands out and forms a border all

round; but the other side, which has no covering, is so soft that you

can easily scrape it into powder with your nail. It is often used for

making tooth-powder, and polishing certain things, such as hard woods

and tortoise-shell.

[Illustration]

This comes from some of a most curious family of fishes, called by the

general name of _Cephalopods_, from the Greek words for head and feet,

because their feet are placed round their heads, and they walk along

with their heads downwards.

There are several kinds represented in the plate, which will give you

a general notion of their form and appearance. In the structure of

their bodies they possess much more in common with the kind of animals

with which you are familiar, than the Actiniæ which make the coral,

or the Acalephæ which produce the luminous appearance on the sea;

though nothing can be more strange or unsightly than their aspect. They

have a complete system of circulation, though their blood is neither

warm nor red as ours is; their brains are enclosed in a strong case

or skull of gristle, and their organs of sense are well developed;

they have large and perfect eyes, (as you may see in the picture,)

standing out prominently, and ears on each side of the brain. Their

mouths are armed with very strong horny lips not unlike the bill of a

parrot, between which is a very rough tongue. They have no noses, but

it has been proved by experiment that they like some smells and dislike

others, and it has been supposed that the quality of substances which

affects merely the organ of smell in us, affects in like manner the

whole surface of their bodies, or at least, of their heads. They not

only resemble birds in their mouths, but also in having gizzards.

Their great arms or legs, for they serve both purposes equally well,

of which they generally have eight, are very wonderful. They have

no bones in them to act as levers, but are merely long and muscular

masses of flesh which they move about with wonderful activity and power

in all directions, having the most complete command over them. On

their surfaces are great numbers of little suckers or cups resembling

leather, which adhere very strongly to anybody which the animal chooses

to embrace.

You have, no doubt, often played with a round piece of thick leather

with a string through it, by wetting it and pressing it with your foot

upon a stone, so as to lift the stone up, if it be not too heavy. It is

just on the same principle that the suckers of the Cuttle Fish act.

These curious creatures gather up some of their arms into a point, as

a sort of cut-water, as sailors would call it, and swim very rapidly,

by means of the others, having their heads behind. They crawl in all

directions with equal facility.

[Illustration]

Their skin changes colour in spots like that of the Chameleon. But

I shall now tell you their most remarkable peculiarities. They are

provided with a bag filled with black stuff, very like printer's ink.

This bag they can at pleasure open, and press out some of the ink; so

when any voracious fish approaches, which the Cuttle Fish thinks will

be too strong for him, he squeezes his ink-bag and colours the water

round him, and thus all of a sudden becomes enveloped in a dark cloud,

in which his enemy gropes about in vain, while he makes the best of his

way off. Is not this a most astonishing mode of defence?

The kind which is found most frequently in our country is represented

in the plate fig. 2. Its skin is smooth and often of a dusky white,

with reddish brown spots, and its length about a foot. It is eaten by

the poor people on the coasts of the Mediterranean Sea. I never tasted

it, but I do not think that either you or I should like it, from the

look of its flesh.

There is another species of which the ink makes the colour called

sepia, which is of great value to artists.

The largest is called Octopus, and is figured No. 1, in the plate. It

is a very powerful creature, and very ferocious in its disposition.

It is mostly found in the Indian Ocean, where it has been known to

drown men by throwing its great arms round their limbs as they were

swimming. It is also much dreaded by the natives of some of the

islands, who sail in small canoes; for an Octopus will sometimes

cast one of its arms over the side of the canoe, and will be sure to

overturn it, if the man does not instantly chop the arm off.

Like most other very wonderful things, the accounts of the Octopus

seem to have been strangely exaggerated, though we should not be too

ready to deny what a man who seems to be sensible and honest relates,

merely because it is not like our own experience. In regard to the

largest size to which the creature has been known to attain, it is very

difficult to tell what is the truth. I will relate to you what has been

said on the subject.

Some navigators have asserted that the largest vessels have been put in

danger by an Octopus raising its arms so as to get them entangled in

the rigging; and a great many have said the same respecting large boats.

Pliny, the Roman Naturalist, tells a story of one in particular, which

was a sad thief. I should tell you that the Octopus is able to walk on

land when the surface is uneven, so that he can get something for his

suckers to adhere to. Well, this individual that Pliny mentions, used

to visit a house near the sea-side, and steal all the provisions within

his reach. He was seen once or twice before he could be taken; but at

last his thefts were so important, that the inhabitants of the house

watched for him all night, and caught him by the help of dogs, as he

was striding over the rocks towards the sea. It is said that he weighed

700 pounds, and that his arms were 30 feet in length, and so stout that

a man could not embrace them.

Still more wonderful are the narrations which were commonly believed

about 150 years ago, respecting some Sepias that frequented the coast

of Norway. They were then generally called Krakens, and were supposed

to be at times nearly a quarter of a mile in length. It is related that

sailors not unfrequently mistook them for islands.

This is alluded to by Milton in a passage of the Paradise Lost,--

Him haply slumbering on the Norway foam

The pilot of some small night-foundered skiff,

Deeming some island, oft, as seamen tell,

With fixed anchor on his scaly rind,

Moors by his side under the lee, and waits

The wished approach of morn.

I dare say you will be ready to think that these things are very

unlikely, and I shall not much differ from you if you do. But no doubt

some of these creatures must be very large, and much to be dreaded, or

such things would never have been said of them.

[Illustration: PLATE XVI.

PAPER NAUTILUS.]

CHAPTER X.

THE NAUTILUS.

But there is one of these Sepias, or Cuttle Fish, which I like very

much, though its character rests under as severe an imputation for

dishonesty and rapacity, as that of the rest. It is that one which

inhabits the beautiful white semi-transparent shell, and is called the

Paper Nautilus, or Argonaut.

[Illustration]

Its body is represented out of the shell in the plate, fig. 3, and you

will there see that it is not very different from those that are not

provided with shells, except in having two of its eight arms spread out

at the ends into a thin membrane or web. You shall hear presently the

pretty use which it makes of these webs.

It has no muscular attachment to the shell, as most other shell-fish

have, but merely adheres to it by means of its suckers. On this

account, some have thought that the Sepia must be an usurper, who has

murdered the original master of the shell, and taken possession of his

house. But I do not believe there is any truth in this charge, for the

same sort of animal is always found in the same shell, and if it be

taken out, though it may be kept in salt water, it is sure to die.

When at the bottom of the sea, he walks about with his shell uppermost,

like a snail, but of course with a much more rapid motion, and every

now and then snatches any mouthful that may take his fancy, with two of

his long arms, and conveys it to his horny beak.

When the weather is fine, and he is disposed to enjoy it, he partly

empties his shell of water, so as to make himself lighter than the

surrounding sea, and comes up to the surface, on which he floats like a

little ship.

I once had an excellent opportunity of watching one. The sea was

beautifully calm, and blue, and the sky perfectly clear, when I caught

sight of something white coming upwards at a little distance from the

ship. In an instant the delicate white shell popped above the surface,

twirled round, and the Sepia spouted out the water remaining in his

shell, spread out his two sails, and threw out his six remaining

feet, three on each side of the edge of his shell, which acted as

oars, and scudded away before the wind. If you had but seen the glad

little creature, it would have done your heart good. He seemed full of

freedom, and life, and joy. The dark deep caves of ocean, with their

corals and sea-weeds, and strange variety of inhabitants; the broad

surface of the sea, the fresh breeze, the lovely blue sky, and the

glorious light of the sun, were all at his command.

"Thou the light sail boldly spreadest,

O'er the furrowed waters gliding,

Thou nor wreck nor foeman dreadest,

Thou nor help nor comfort needest,

While the sun is bright above thee,

While the bounding surges love thee,

In their deepening bosoms hiding,

Thou canst not fear

Small marinere;

For though the tides with restless motion

Bear thee to the desert ocean,

Far as the ocean stretches to the sea,

'Tis all thy own, 'tis all thy empery.