CHAPTER XX

KEELING ISLAND:--CORAL FORMATIONS

Keeling Island--Singular appearance--Scanty Flora--Transport of

Seeds--Birds and Insects--Ebbing and flowing Springs--Fields of dead

Coral--Stones transported in the roots of Trees--Great Crab--Stinging

Corals--Coral eating Fish--Coral Formations--Lagoon Islands, or

Atolls--Depth at which reef-building Corals can live--Vast Areas

interspersed with low Coral Islands--Subsidence of their

foundations--Barrier Reefs--Fringing Reefs--Conversion of Fringing

Reefs into Barrier Reefs, and into Atolls--Evidence of changes in

Level--Breaches in Barrier Reefs--Maldiva Atolls, their peculiar

structure--Dead and submerged Reefs--Areas of subsidence and

elevation--Distribution of Volcanoes--Subsidence slow, and vast in

amount.

APRIL 1st.--We arrived in view of the Keeling or Cocos Islands,

situated in the Indian Ocean, and about six hundred miles distant from

the coast of Sumatra. This is one of the lagoon-islands (or atolls) of

coral formation, similar to those in the Low Archipelago which we

passed near. When the ship was in the channel at the entrance, Mr.

Liesk, an English resident, came off in his boat. The history of the

inhabitants of this place, in as few words as possible, is as follows.

About nine years ago, Mr. Hare, a worthless character, brought from the

East Indian archipelago a number of Malay slaves, which now including

children, amount to more than a hundred. Shortly afterwards, Captain

Ross, who had before visited these islands in his merchant-ship,

arrived from England, bringing with him his family and goods for

settlement: along with him came Mr. Liesk, who had been a mate in his

vessel. The Malay slaves soon ran away from the islet on which Mr. Hare

was settled, and joined Captain Ross's party. Mr. Hare upon this was

ultimately obliged to leave the place.

The Malays are now nominally in a state of freedom, and certainly are

so, as far as regards their personal treatment; but in most other

points they are considered as slaves. From their discontented state,

from the repeated removals from islet to islet, and perhaps also from a

little mismanagement, things are not very prosperous. The island has

no domestic quadruped, excepting the pig, and the main vegetable

production is the cocoa-nut. The whole prosperity of the place depends

on this tree: the only exports being oil from the nut, and the nuts

themselves, which are taken to Singapore and Mauritius, where they are

chiefly used, when grated, in making curries. On the cocoa-nut, also,

the pigs, which are loaded with fat, almost entirely subsist, as do the

ducks and poultry. Even a huge land-crab is furnished by nature with

the means to open and feed on this most useful production.

The ring-formed reef of the lagoon-island is surmounted in the greater

part of its length by linear islets. On the northern or leeward side,

there is an opening through which vessels can pass to the anchorage

within. On entering, the scene was very curious and rather pretty; its

beauty, however, entirely depended on the brilliancy of the surrounding

colours. The shallow, clear, and still water of the lagoon, resting in

its greater part on white sand, is, when illumined by a vertical sun,

of the most vivid green. This brilliant expanse, several miles in

width, is on all sides divided, either by a line of snow-white breakers

from the dark heaving waters of the ocean, or from the blue vault of

heaven by the strips of land, crowned by the level tops of the

cocoa-nut trees. As a white cloud here and there affords a pleasing

contrast with the azure sky, so in the lagoon, bands of living coral

darken the emerald green water.

The next morning after anchoring, I went on shore on Direction Island.

The strip of dry land is only a few hundred yards in width; on the

lagoon side there is a white calcareous beach, the radiation from which

under this sultry climate was very oppressive; and on the outer coast,

a solid broad flat of coral-rock served to break the violence of the

open sea. Excepting near the lagoon, where there is some sand, the

land is entirely composed of rounded fragments of coral. In such a

loose, dry, stony soil, the climate of the intertropical regions alone

could produce a vigorous vegetation. On some of the smaller islets,

nothing could be more elegant than the manner in which the young and

full-grown cocoa-nut trees, without destroying each other's symmetry,

were mingled into one wood. A beach of glittering white sand formed a

border to these fairy spots.

I will now give a sketch of the natural history of these islands,

which, from its very paucity, possesses a peculiar interest. The

cocoa-nut tree, at first glance, seems to compose the whole wood; there

are however, five or six other trees. One of these grows to a very

large size, but from the extremes of softness of its wood, is useless;

another sort affords excellent timber for ship-building. Besides the

trees, the number of plants is exceedingly limited, and consists of

insignificant weeds. In my collection, which includes, I believe,

nearly the perfect Flora, there are twenty species, without reckoning a

moss, lichen, and fungus. To this number two trees must be added; one

of which was not in flower, and the other I only heard of. The latter

is a solitary tree of its kind, and grows near the beach, where,

without doubt, the one seed was thrown up by the waves. A Guilandina

also grows on only one of the islets. I do not include in the above

list the sugar-cane, banana, some other vegetables, fruit-trees, and

imported grasses. As the islands consist entirely of coral, and at one

time must have existed as mere water-washed reefs, all their

terrestrial productions must have been transported here by the waves of

the sea. In accordance with this, the Florula has quite the character

of a refuge for the destitute: Professor Henslow informs me that of the

twenty species nineteen belong to different genera, and these again to

no less than sixteen families! [1]

In Holman's [2] Travels an account is given, on the authority of Mr. A.

S. Keating, who resided twelve months on these islands, of the various

seeds and other bodies which have been known to have been washed on

shore. "Seeds and plants from Sumatra and Java have been driven up by

the surf on the windward side of the islands. Among them have been

found the Kimiri, native of Sumatra and the peninsula of Malacca; the

cocoa-nut of Balci, known by its shape and size; the Dadass, which is

planted by the Malays with the pepper-vine, the latter intwining round

its trunk, and supporting itself by the prickles on its stem; the

soap-tree; the castor-oil plant; trunks of the sago palm; and various

kinds of seeds unknown to the Malays settled on the islands. These are

all supposed to have been driven by the N. W. monsoon to the coast of

New Holland, and thence to these islands by the S. E. trade-wind. Large

masses of Java teak and Yellow wood have also been found, besides

immense trees of red and white cedar, and the blue gumwood of New

Holland, in a perfectly sound condition. All the hardy seeds, such as

creepers, retain their germinating power, but the softer kinds, among

which is the mangostin, are destroyed in the passage. Fishing-canoes,

apparently from Java, have at times been washed on shore." It is

interesting thus to discover how numerous the seeds are, which, coming

from several countries, are drifted over the wide ocean. Professor

Henslow tells me, he believes that nearly all the plants which I

brought from these islands, are common littoral species in the East

Indian archipelago. From the direction, however, of the winds and

currents, it seems scarcely possible that they could have come here in

a direct line. If, as suggested with much probability by Mr. Keating,

they were first carried towards the coast of New Holland, and thence

drifted back together with the productions of that country, the seeds,

before germinating, must have travelled between 1800 and 2400 miles.

Chamisso, [3] when describing the Radack Archipelago, situated in the

western part of the Pacific, states that "the sea brings to these

islands the seeds and fruits of many trees, most of which have yet not

grown here. The greater part of these seeds appear to have not yet

lost the capability of growing."

It is also said that palms and bamboos from somewhere in the torrid

zone, and trunks of northern firs, are washed on shore: these firs must

have come from an immense distance. These facts are highly

interesting. It cannot be doubted that if there were land-birds to

pick up the seeds when first cast on shore, and a soil better adapted

for their growth than the loose blocks of coral, that the most isolated

of the lagoon-islands would in time possess a far more abundant Flora

than they now have.

The list of land animals is even poorer than that of the plants. Some

of the islets are inhabited by rats, which were brought in a ship from

the Mauritius, wrecked here. These rats are considered by Mr.

Waterhouse as identical with the English kind, but they are smaller,

and more brightly coloured. There are no true land-birds, for a snipe

and a rail (Rallus Phillippensis), though living entirely in the dry

herbage, belong to the order of Waders. Birds of this order are said

to occur on several of the small low islands in the Pacific. At

Ascension, where there is no land-bird, a rail (Porphyrio simplex) was

shot near the summit of the mountain, and it was evidently a solitary

straggler. At Tristan d'Acunha, where, according to Carmichael, there

are only two land-birds, there is a coot. From these facts I believe

that the waders, after the innumerable web-footed species, are

generally the first colonists of small isolated islands. I may add,

that whenever I noticed birds, not of oceanic species, very far out at

sea, they always belonged to this order; and hence they would naturally

become the earliest colonists of any remote point of land.

Of reptiles I saw only one small lizard. Of insects I took pains to

collect every kind. Exclusive of spiders, which were numerous, there

were thirteen species. [4] Of these, one only was a beetle. A small

ant swarmed by thousands under the loose dry blocks of coral, and was

the only true insect which was abundant. Although the productions of

the land are thus scanty, if we look to the waters of the surrounding

sea, the number of organic beings is indeed infinite. Chamisso has

described [5] the natural history of a lagoon-island in the Radack

Archipelago; and it is remarkable how closely its inhabitants, in

number and kind, resemble those of Keeling Island. There is one lizard

and two waders, namely, a snipe and curlew. Of plants there are

nineteen species, including a fern; and some of these are the same with

those growing here, though on a spot so immensely remote, and in a

different ocean.

The long strips of land, forming the linear islets, have been raised

only to that height to which the surf can throw fragments of coral, and

the wind heap up calcareous sand. The solid flat of coral rock on the

outside, by its breadth, breaks the first violence of the waves, which

otherwise, in a day, would sweep away these islets and all their

productions. The ocean and the land seem here struggling for mastery:

although terra firma has obtained a footing, the denizens of the water

think their claim at least equally good. In every part one meets

hermit crabs of more than one species, [6] carrying on their backs the

shells which they have stolen from the neighbouring beach. Overhead,

numerous gannets, frigate-birds, and terns, rest on the trees; and the

wood, from the many nests and from the smell of the atmosphere, might

be called a sea-rookery. The gannets, sitting on their rude nests,

gaze at one with a stupid yet angry air. The noddies, as their name

expresses, are silly little creatures. But there is one charming bird:

it is a small, snow-white tern, which smoothly hovers at the distance

of a few feet above one's head, its large black eye scanning, with

quiet curiosity, your expression. Little imagination is required to

fancy that so light and delicate a body must be tenanted by some

wandering fairy spirit.

Sunday, April 3rd.--After service I accompanied Captain Fitz Roy to the

settlement, situated at the distance of some miles, on the point of an

islet thickly covered with tall cocoa-nut trees. Captain Ross and Mr.

Liesk live in a large barn-like house open at both ends, and lined with

mats made of woven bark. The houses of the Malays are arranged along

the shore of the lagoon. The whole place had rather a desolate aspect,

for there were no gardens to show the signs of care and cultivation.

The natives belong to different islands in the East Indian archipelago,

but all speak the same language: we saw the inhabitants of Borneo,

Celebes, Java, and Sumatra. In colour they resemble the Tahitians,

from whom they do not widely differ in features. Some of the women,

however, show a good deal of the Chinese character. I liked both their

general expressions and the sound of their voices. They appeared poor,

and their houses were destitute of furniture; but it was evident, from

the plumpness of the little children, that cocoa-nuts and turtle afford

no bad sustenance.

On this island the wells are situated, from which ships obtain water.

At first sight it appears not a little remarkable that the fresh water

should regularly ebb and flow with the tides; and it has even been

imagined, that sand has the power of filtering the salt from the

sea-water. These ebbing wells are common on some of the low islands in

the West Indies. The compressed sand, or porous coral rock, is

permeated like a sponge with the salt water, but the rain which falls

on the surface must sink to the level of the surrounding sea, and must

accumulate there, displacing an equal bulk of the salt water. As the

water in the lower part of the great sponge-like coral mass rises and

falls with the tides, so will the water near the surface; and this will

keep fresh, if the mass be sufficiently compact to prevent much

mechanical admixture; but where the land consists of great loose blocks

of coral with open interstices, if a well be dug, the water, as I have

seen, is brackish.

After dinner we stayed to see a curious half superstitious scene acted

by the Malay women. A large wooden spoon dressed in garments, and

which had been carried to the grave of a dead man, they pretend becomes

inspired at the full of the moon, and will dance and jump about. After

the proper preparations, the spoon, held by two women, became

convulsed, and danced in good time to the song of the surrounding

children and women. It was a most foolish spectacle; but Mr. Liesk

maintained that many of the Malays believed in its spiritual movements.

The dance did not commence till the moon had risen, and it was well

worth remaining to behold her bright orb so quietly shining through the

long arms of the cocoa-nut trees as they waved in the evening breeze.

These scenes of the tropics are in themselves so delicious, that they

almost equal those dearer ones at home, to which we are bound by each

best feeling of the mind.

The next day I employed myself in examining the very interesting, yet

simple structure and origin of these islands. The water being unusually

smooth, I waded over the outer flat of dead rock as far as the living

mounds of coral, on which the swell of the open sea breaks. In some of

the gullies and hollows there were beautiful green and other coloured

fishes, and the form and tints of many of the zoophytes were admirable.

It is excusable to grow enthusiastic over the infinite numbers of

organic beings with which the sea of the tropics, so prodigal of life,

teems; yet I must confess I think those naturalists who have described,

in well-known words, the submarine grottoes decked with a thousand

beauties, have indulged in rather exuberant language.

April 6th.--I accompanied Captain Fitz Roy to an island at the head of

the lagoon: the channel was exceedingly intricate, winding through

fields of delicately branched corals. We saw several turtle and two

boats were then employed in catching them. The water was so clear and

shallow, that although at first a turtle quickly dives out of sight,

yet in a canoe or boat under sail, the pursuers after no very long

chase come up to it. A man standing ready in the bow, at this moment

dashes through the water upon the turtle's back; then clinging with

both hands by the shell of its neck, he is carried away till the animal

becomes exhausted and is secured. It was quite an interesting chase to

see the two boats thus doubling about, and the men dashing head

foremost into the water trying to seize their prey. Captain Moresby

informs me that in the Chagos archipelago in this same ocean, the

natives, by a horrible process, take the shell from the back of the

living turtle. "It is covered with burning charcoal, which causes the

outer shell to curl upwards, it is then forced off with a knife, and

before it becomes cold flattened between boards. After this barbarous

process the animal is suffered to regain its native element, where,

after a certain time, a new shell is formed; it is, however, too thin

to be of any service, and the animal always appears languishing and

sickly."

When we arrived at the head of the lagoon, we crossed a narrow islet,

and found a great surf breaking on the windward coast. I can hardly

explain the reason, but there is to my mind much grandeur in the view

of the outer shores of these lagoon-islands. There is a simplicity in

the barrier-like beach, the margin of green bushes and tall cocoa-nuts,

the solid flat of dead coral-rock, strewed here and there with great

loose fragments, and the line of furious breakers, all rounding away

towards either hand. The ocean throwing its waters over the broad reef

appears an invincible, all-powerful enemy; yet we see it resisted, and

even conquered, by means which at first seem most weak and inefficient.

It is not that the ocean spares the rock of coral; the great fragments

scattered over the reef, and heaped on the beach, whence the tall

cocoa-nut springs, plainly bespeak the unrelenting power of the waves.

Nor are any periods of repose granted. The long swell caused by the

gentle but steady action of the trade-wind, always blowing in one

direction over a wide area, causes breakers, almost equalling in force

those during a gale of wind in the temperate regions, and which never

cease to rage. It is impossible to behold these waves without feeling

a conviction that an island, though built of the hardest rock, let it

be porphyry, granite, or quartz, would ultimately yield and be

demolished by such an irresistible power. Yet these low, insignificant

coral-islets stand and are victorious: for here another power, as an

antagonist, takes part in the contest. The organic forces separate the

atoms of carbonate of lime, one by one, from the foaming breakers, and

unite them into a symmetrical structure. Let the hurricane tear up its

thousand huge fragments; yet what will that tell against the

accumulated labour of myriads of architects at work night and day,

month after month? Thus do we see the soft and gelatinous body of a

polypus, through the agency of the vital laws, conquering the great

mechanical power of the waves of an ocean which neither the art of man

nor the inanimate works of nature could successfully resist.

We did not return on board till late in the evening, for we stayed a

long time in the lagoon, examining the fields of coral and the gigantic

shells of the chama, into which, if a man were to put his hand, he

would not, as long as the animal lived, be able to withdraw it. Near

the head of the lagoon I was much surprised to find a wide area,

considerably more than a mile square, covered with a forest of

delicately branching corals, which, though standing upright, were all

dead and rotten. At first I was quite at a loss to understand the

cause afterwards it occurred to me that it was owing to the following

rather curious combination of circumstances. It should, however, first

be stated, that corals are not able to survive even a short exposure in

the air to the sun's rays, so that their upward limit of growth is

determined by that of lowest water at spring tides. It appears, from

some old charts, that the long island to windward was formerly

separated by wide channels into several islets; this fact is likewise

indicated by the trees being younger on these portions. Under the

former condition of the reef, a strong breeze, by throwing more water

over the barrier, would tend to raise the level of the lagoon. Now it

acts in a directly contrary manner; for the water within the lagoon not

only is not increased by currents from the outside, but is itself blown

outwards by the force of the wind. Hence it is observed, that the tide

near the head of the lagoon does not rise so high during a strong

breeze as it does when it is calm. This difference of level, although

no doubt very small, has, I believe, caused the death of those

coral-groves, which under the former and more open condition of the

outer reef has attained the utmost possible limit of upward growth.

A few miles north of Keeling there is another small atoll, the lagoon

of which is nearly filled up with coral-mud. Captain Ross found

embedded in the conglomerate on the outer coast, a well-rounded

fragment of greenstone, rather larger than a man's head: he and the men

with him were so much surprised at this, that they brought it away and

preserved it as a curiosity. The occurrence of this one stone, where

every other particle of matter is calcareous, certainly is very

puzzling. The island has scarcely ever been visited, nor is it

probable that a ship had been wrecked there. From the absence of any

better explanation, I came to the conclusion that it must have come

entangled in the roots of some large tree: when, however, I considered

the great distance from the nearest land, the combination of chances

against a stone thus being entangled, the tree washed into the sea,

floated so far, then landed safely, and the stone finally so embedded

as to allow of its discovery, I was almost afraid of imagining a means

of transport apparently so improbable. It was therefore with great

interest that I found Chamisso, the justly distinguished naturalist who

accompanied Kotzebue, stating that the inhabitants of the Radack

archipelago, a group of lagoon-islands in the midst of the Pacific,

obtained stones for sharpening their instruments by searching the roots

of trees which are cast upon the beach. It will be evident that this

must have happened several times, since laws have been established that

such stones belong to the chief, and a punishment is inflicted on any

one who attempts to steal them. When the isolated position of these

small islands in the midst of a vast ocean--their great distance from

any land excepting that of coral formation, attested by the value which

the inhabitants, who are such bold navigators, attach to a stone of any

kind, [7]--and the slowness of the currents of the open sea, are all

considered, the occurrence of pebbles thus transported does appear

wonderful. Stones may often be thus carried; and if the island on

which they are stranded is constructed of any other substance besides

coral, they would scarcely attract attention, and their origin at least

would never be guessed. Moreover, this agency may long escape

discovery from the probability of trees, especially those loaded with

stones, floating beneath the surface. In the channels of Tierra del

Fuego large quantities of drift timber are cast upon the beach, yet it

is extremely rare to meet a tree swimming on the water. These facts

may possibly throw light on single stones, whether angular or rounded,

occasionally found embedded in fine sedimentary masses.

During another day I visited West Islet, on which the vegetation was

perhaps more luxuriant than on any other. The cocoa-nut trees generally

grow separate, but here the young ones flourished beneath their tall

parents, and formed with their long and curved fronds the most shady

arbours. Those alone who have tried it, know how delicious it is to be

seated in such shade, and drink the cool pleasant fluid of the

cocoa-nut. In this island there is a large bay-like space, composed of

the finest white sand: it is quite level and is only covered by the

tide at high water; from this large bay smaller creeks penetrate the

surrounding woods. To see a field of glittering white sand,

representing water, with the cocoa-nut trees extending their tall and

waving trunks around the margin, formed a singular and very pretty view.

I have before alluded to a crab which lives on the cocoa-nuts; it is

very common on all parts of the dry land, and grows to a monstrous

size: it is closely allied or identical with the Birgos latro. The

front pair of legs terminate in very strong and heavy pincers, and the

last pair are fitted with others weaker and much narrower. It would at

first be thought quite impossible for a crab to open a strong cocoa-nut

covered with the husk; but Mr. Liesk assures me that he has repeatedly

seen this effected. The crab begins by tearing the husk, fibre by

fibre, and always from that end under which the three eye-holes are

situated; when this is completed, the crab commences hammering with its

heavy claws on one of the eye-holes till an opening is made. Then

turning round its body, by the aid of its posterior and narrow pair of

pincers, it extracts the white albuminous substance. I think this is as

curious a case of instinct as ever I heard of, and likewise of

adaptation in structure between two objects apparently so remote from

each other in the scheme of nature, as a crab and a cocoa-nut tree. The

Birgos is diurnal in its habits; but every night it is said to pay a

visit to the sea, no doubt for the purpose of moistening its branchiae.

The young are likewise hatched, and live for some time, on the coast.

These crabs inhabit deep burrows, which they hollow out beneath the

roots of trees; and where they accumulate surprising quantities of the

picked fibres of the cocoa-nut husk, on which they rest as on a bed.

The Malays sometimes take advantage of this, and collect the fibrous

mass to use as junk. These crabs are very good to eat; moreover, under

the tail of the larger ones there is a mass of fat, which, when melted,

sometimes yields as much as a quart bottle full of limpid oil. It has

been stated by some authors that the Birgos crawls up the cocoa-nut

trees for the purpose of stealing the nuts: I very much doubt the

possibility of this; but with the Pandanus [8] the task would be very

much easier. I was told by Mr. Liesk that on these islands the Birgos

lives only on the nuts which have fallen to the ground.

Captain Moresby informs me that this crab inhabits the Chagos and

Seychelle groups, but not the neighbouring Maldiva archipelago. It

formerly abounded at Mauritius, but only a few small ones are now found

there. In the Pacific, this species, or one with closely allied

habits, is said [9] to inhabit a single coral island, north of the

Society group. To show the wonderful strength of the front pair of

pincers, I may mention, that Captain Moresby confined one in a strong

tin-box, which had held biscuits, the lid being secured with wire; but

the crab turned down the edges and escaped. In turning down the edges,

it actually punched many small holes quite through the tin!

I was a good deal surprised by finding two species of coral of the

genus Millepora (M. complanata and alcicornis), possessed of the power

of stinging. The stony branches or plates, when taken fresh from the

water, have a harsh feel and are not slimy, although possessing a

strong and disagreeable smell. The stinging property seems to vary in

different specimens: when a piece was pressed or rubbed on the tender

skin of the face or arm, a pricking sensation was usually caused, which

came on after the interval of a second, and lasted only for a few

minutes. One day, however, by merely touching my face with one of the

branches, pain was instantaneously caused; it increased as usual after

a few seconds, and remaining sharp for some minutes, was perceptible

for half an hour afterwards. The sensation was as bad as that from a

nettle, but more like that caused by the Physalia or Portuguese

man-of-war. Little red spots were produced on the tender skin of the

arm, which appeared as if they would have formed watery pustules, but

did not. M. Quoy mentions this case of the Millepora; and I have heard

of stinging corals in the West Indies. Many marine animals seem to

have this power of stinging: besides the Portuguese man-of-war, many

jelly-fish, and the Aplysia or sea-slug of the Cape de Verd Islands, it

is stated in the voyage of the Astrolabe, that an Actinia or

sea-anemone, as well as a flexible coralline allied to Sertularia, both

possess this means of offence or defence. In the East Indian sea, a

stinging sea-weed is said to be found.

Two species of fish, of the genus Scarus, which are common here,

exclusively feed on coral: both are coloured of a splendid

bluish-green, one living invariably in the lagoon, and the other

amongst the outer breakers. Mr. Liesk assured us, that he had

repeatedly seen whole shoals grazing with their strong bony jaws on the

tops of the coral branches: I opened the intestines of several, and

found them distended with yellowish calcareous sandy mud. The slimy

disgusting Holuthuriae (allied to our star-fish), which the Chinese

gourmands are so fond of, also feed largely, as I am informed by Dr.

Allan, on corals; and the bony apparatus within their bodies seems well

adapted for this end. These Holuthuriae, the fish, the numerous

burrowing shells, and nereidous worms, which perforate every block of

dead coral, must be very efficient agents in producing the fine white

mud which lies at the bottom and on the shores of the lagoon. A

portion, however, of this mud, which when wet resembled pounded chalk,

was found by Professor Ehrenberg to be partly composed of

siliceous-shielded infusoria.

April 12th.--In the morning we stood out of the lagoon on our passage

to the Isle of France. I am glad we have visited these islands: such

formations surely rank high amongst the wonderful objects of this

world. Captain Fitz Roy found no bottom with a line 7200 feet in

length, at the distance of only 2200 yards from the shore; hence this

island forms a lofty submarine mountain, with sides steeper even than

those of the most abrupt volcanic cone. The saucer-shaped summit is

nearly ten miles across; and every single atom, [10] from the least

particle to the largest fragment of rock, in this great pile, which

however is small compared with very many other lagoon-islands, bears

the stamp of having been subjected to organic arrangement. We feel

surprise when travellers tell us of the vast dimensions of the Pyramids

and other great ruins, but how utterly insignificant are the greatest

of these, when compared to these mountains of stone accumulated by the

agency of various minute and tender animals! This is a wonder which

does not at first strike the eye of the body, but, after reflection,

the eye of reason.

I will now give a very brief account of the three great classes of

coral-reefs; namely, Atolls, Barrier, and Fringing-reefs, and will

explain my views [11] on their formation. Almost every voyager who has

crossed the Pacific has expressed his unbounded astonishment at the

lagoon-islands, or as I shall for the future call them by their Indian

name of atolls, and has attempted some explanation. Even as long ago

as the year 1605, Pyrard de Laval well exclaimed, "C'est

[picture]

une merveille de voir chacun de ces atollons, environne d'un grand banc

de pierre tout autour, n'y ayant point d'artifice humain." The

accompanying sketch of Whitsunday Island in the Pacific, copied from,

Capt. Beechey's admirable Voyage, gives but a faint idea of the

singular aspect of an atoll: it is one of the smallest size, and has

its narrow islets united together in a ring. The immensity of the

ocean, the fury of the breakers, contrasted with the lowness of the

land and the smoothness of the bright green water within the lagoon,

can hardly be imagined without having been seen.

The earlier voyagers fancied that the coral-building animals

instinctively built up their great circles to afford themselves

protection in the inner parts; but so far is this from the truth, that

those massive kinds, to whose growth on the exposed outer shores the

very existence of the reef depends, cannot live within the lagoon,

where other delicately-branching kinds flourish. Moreover, on this

view, many species of distinct genera and families are supposed to

combine for one end; and of such a combination, not a single instance

can be found in the whole of nature. The theory that has been most

generally received is, that atolls are based on submarine craters; but

when we consider the form and size of some, the number, proximity, and

relative positions of others, this idea loses its plausible character:

thus Suadiva atoll is 44 geographical miles in diameter in one line, by

34 miles in another line; Rimsky is 54 by 20 miles across, and it has a

strangely sinuous margin; Bow atoll is 30 miles long, and on an average

only 6 in width; Menchicoff atoll consists of three atolls united or

tied together. This theory, moreover, is totally inapplicable to the

northern Maldiva atolls in the Indian Ocean (one of which is 88 miles

in length, and between 10 and 20 in breadth), for they are not bounded

like ordinary atolls by narrow reefs, but by a vast number of separate

little atolls; other little atolls rising out of the great central

lagoon-like spaces. A third and better theory was advanced by

Chamisso, who thought that from the corals growing more vigorously

where exposed to the open sea, as undoubtedly is the case, the outer

edges would grow up from the general foundation before any other part,

and that this would account for the ring or cup-shaped structure. But

we shall immediately see, that in this, as well as in the

crater-theory, a most important consideration has been overlooked,

namely, on what have the reef-building corals, which cannot live at a

great depth, based their massive structures?

Numerous soundings were carefully taken by Captain Fitz Roy on the

steep outside of Keeling atoll, and it was found that within ten

fathoms, the prepared tallow at the bottom of the lead, invariably came

up marked with the impression of living corals, but as perfectly clean

as if it had been dropped on a carpet of turf; as the depth increased,

the impressions became less numerous, but the adhering particles of

sand more and more numerous, until at last it was evident that the

bottom consisted of a smooth sandy layer: to carry on the analogy of

the turf, the blades of grass grew thinner and thinner, till at last

the soil was so sterile, that nothing sprang from it. From these

observations, confirmed by many others, it may be safely inferred that

the utmost depth at which corals can construct reefs is between 20 and

30 fathoms. Now there are enormous areas in the Pacific and Indian

Ocean, in which every single island is of coral formation, and is

raised only to that height to which the waves can throw up fragments,

and the winds pile up sand. Thus Radack group of atolls is an

irregular square, 520 miles long and 240 broad; the Low Archipelago is

elliptic-formed, 840 miles in its longer, and 420 in its shorter axis:

there are other small groups and single low islands between these two

archipelagoes, making a linear space of ocean actually more than 4000

miles in length, in which not one single island rises above the

specified height. Again, in the Indian Ocean there is a space of ocean

1500 miles in length, including three archipelagoes, in which every

island is low and of coral formation. From the fact of the

reef-building corals not living at great depths, it is absolutely

certain that throughout these vast areas, wherever there is now an

atoll, a foundation must have originally existed within a depth of from

20 to 30 fathoms from the surface. It is improbable in the highest

degree that broad, lofty, isolated, steep-sided banks of sediment,

arranged in groups and lines hundreds of leagues in length, could have

been deposited in the central and profoundest parts of the Pacific and

Indian Oceans, at an immense distance from any continent, and where the

water is perfectly limpid. It is equally improbable that the elevatory

forces should have uplifted throughout the above vast areas,

innumerable great rocky banks within 20 to 30 fathoms, or 120 to 180

feet, of the surface of the sea, and not one single point above that

level; for where on the whole surface of the globe can we find a single

chain of mountains, even a few hundred miles in length, with their many

summits rising within a few feet of a given level, and not one pinnacle

above it? If then the foundations, whence the atoll-building corals

sprang, were not formed of sediment, and if they were not lifted up to

the required level, they must of necessity have subsided into it; and

this at once solves the difficulty. For as mountain after mountain,

and island after island, slowly sank beneath the water, fresh bases

would be successively afforded for the growth of the corals. It is

impossible here to enter into all the necessary details, but I venture

to defy [12] any one to explain in any other manner how it is possible

that numerous islands should be distributed throughout vast areas--all

the islands being low--all being built of corals, absolutely requiring

a foundation within a limited depth from the surface.

Before explaining how atoll-formed reefs acquire their peculiar

structure, we must turn to the second great class, namely,

Barrier-reefs. These either extend in straight lines in front of the

shores of a continent or of a large island, or they encircle smaller

islands; in both cases, being separated from the land by a broad and

rather deep channel of water, analogous to the lagoon within an atoll.

It is remarkable how little attention has been paid to encircling

barrier-reefs; yet they are truly wonderful structures. The following

sketch represents part of the barrier encircling the island of Bolabola

in the Pacific, as seen from one of the central peaks. In this instance

the whole line of reef has been converted into land; but usually a

snow-white line of great breakers, with only here and there a single

low islet crowned with cocoa-nut trees, divides the dark heaving waters

of the ocean from the light-green expanse of the lagoon-channel. And

the quiet waters of this channel generally bathe a fringe of low

alluvial soil, loaded with the most beautiful productions of the

tropics, and lying at the foot of the wild, abrupt, central mountains.

Encircling barrier-reefs are of all sizes, from three miles to no less

than forty-four miles in diameter; and that which fronts one side, and

encircles both ends, of New Caledonia, is 400 miles long. Each reef

includes one, two, or several rocky islands of various heights; and in

one instance, even as many as twelve separate islands. The reef runs

at a greater or less distance from the included land; in the Society

archipelago generally from one to three or four miles; but at Hogoleu

the reef is 20 miles on the southern side, and 14 miles on the opposite

or northern side, from the included islands. The depth within the

lagoon-channel also varies much; from 10 to 30 fathoms may be taken as

an average; but at Vanikoro there are spaces no less than 56 fathoms or

363 feet deep. Internally the reef either slopes gently into the

lagoon-channel, or ends in a perpendicular wall sometimes between two

and three hundred feet under water in height: externally the reef

rises, like an atoll, with extreme abruptness out of the profound

depths of the ocean.

What can be more singular than these structures? We see

[picture]

an island, which may be compared to a castle situated on the summit of

a lofty submarine mountain, protected by a great wall of coral-rock,

always steep externally and sometimes internally, with a broad level

summit, here and there breached by a narrow gateway, through which the

largest ships can enter the wide and deep encircling moat.

As far as the actual reef of coral is concerned, there is not the

smallest difference, in general size, outline, grouping, and even in

quite trifling details of structure, between a barrier and an atoll.

The geographer Balbi has well remarked, that an encircled island is an

atoll with high land rising out of its lagoon; remove the land from

within, and a perfect atoll is left.

But what has caused these reefs to spring up at such great distances

from the shores of the included islands? It cannot be that the corals

will not grow close to the land; for the shores within the

lagoon-channel, when not surrounded by alluvial soil, are often fringed

by living reefs; and we shall presently see that there is a whole

class, which I have called Fringing Reefs from their close attachment

to the shores both of continents and of islands. Again, on what have

the reef-building corals, which cannot live at great depths, based

their encircling structures? This is a great apparent difficulty,

analogous to that in the case of atolls, which has generally been

overlooked. It will be perceived more clearly by inspecting the

following sections which are real ones, taken in north and south lines,

through the islands with their barrier-reefs, of Vanikoro, Gambier, and

Maurua; and they are laid down, both vertically and horizontally, on

the same scale of a quarter of an inch to a mile.

It should be observed that the sections might have been taken in any

direction through these islands, or through

[picture]

many other encircled islands, and the general features would have been

the same. Now, bearing in mind that reef-building coral cannot live at

a greater depth than from 20 to 30 fathoms, and that the scale is so

small that the plummets on the right hand show a depth of 200 fathoms,

on what are these barrier-reefs based? Are we to suppose that each

island is surrounded by a collar-like submarine ledge of rock, or by a

great bank of sediment, ending abruptly where the reef ends?

If the sea had formerly eaten deeply into the islands, before they were

protected by the reefs, thus having left a shallow ledge round them

under water, the present shores would have been invariably bounded by

great precipices, but this is most rarely the case. Moreover, on this

notion, it is not possible to explain why the corals should have sprung

up, like a wall, from the extreme outer margin of the ledge, often

leaving a broad space of water within, too deep for the growth of

corals. The accumulation of a wide bank of sediment all round these

islands, and generally widest where the included islands are smallest,

is highly improbable, considering their exposed positions in the

central and deepest parts of the ocean. In the case of the

barrier-reef of New Caledonia, which extends for 150 miles beyond the

northern point of the islands, in the same straight line with which it

fronts the west coast, it is hardly possible to believe that a bank of

sediment could thus have been straightly deposited in front of a lofty

island, and so far beyond its termination in the open sea. Finally, if

we look to other oceanic islands of about the same height and of

similar geological constitution, but not encircled by coral-reefs, we

may in vain search for so trifling a circumambient depth as 30 fathoms,

except quite near to their shores; for usually land that rises abruptly

out of water, as do most of the encircled and non-encircled oceanic

islands, plunges abruptly under it. On what then, I repeat, are these

barrier reefs based? Why, with their wide and deep moat-like channels,

do they stand so far from the included land? We shall soon see how

easily these difficulties disappear.

We come now to our third class of Fringing-reefs, which will require a

very short notice. Where the land slopes abruptly under water, these

reefs are only a few yards in width, forming a mere ribbon or fringe

round the shores: where the land slopes gently under the water the reef

extends further, sometimes even as much as a mile from the land; but in

such cases the soundings outside the reef always show that the

submarine prolongation of the land is gently inclined. In fact, the

reefs extend only to that distance from the shore, at which a

foundation within the requisite depth from 20 to 30 fathoms is found.

As far as the actual reef is concerned, there is no essential

difference between it and that forming a barrier or an atoll: it is,

however, generally of less width, and consequently few islets have been

formed on it. From the corals growing more vigorously on the outside,

and from the noxious effect of the sediment washed inwards, the outer

edge of the reef is the highest part, and between it and the land there

is generally a shallow sandy channel a few feet in depth. Where banks

or sediments have accumulated near to the surface, as in parts of the

West Indies, they sometimes become fringed with corals, and hence in

some degree resemble lagoon-islands or atolls, in the same manner as

fringing-reefs, surrounding gently sloping islands, in some degree

resemble barrier-reefs.

No theory on the formation of coral-reefs can be considered

satisfactory which does not include the three great

[picture]

classes. We have seen that we are driven to believe in the subsidence

of those vast areas, interspersed with low islands, of which not one

rises above the height to which the wind and waves can throw up matter,

and yet are constructed by animals requiring a foundation, and that

foundation to lie at no great depth. Let us then take an island

surrounded by fringing-reefs, which offer no difficulty in their

structure; and let this island with its reefs, represented by the

unbroken lines in the woodcut, slowly subside. Now, as the island

sinks down, either a few feet at a time or quite insensibly, we may

safely infer, from what is known of the conditions favourable to the

growth of coral, that the living masses, bathed by the surf on the

margin of the reef, will soon regain the surface. The water, however,

will encroach little by little on the shore, the island becoming lower

and smaller, and the space between the inner edge of the reef and the

beach proportionately broader. A section of the reef and island in

this state, after a subsidence of several hundred feet, is given by the

dotted lines. Coral islets are supposed to have been formed on the

reef; and a ship is anchored in the lagoon-channel. This channel will

be more or less deep, according to the rate of subsidence, to the

amount of sediment accumulated in it, and to the growth of the

delicately branched corals which can live there. The section in this

state resembles in every respect one drawn through an encircled island:

in fact, it is a real section (on the scale of .517 of an inch to a

mile) through Bolabola in the Pacific. We can now at once see why

encircling barrier-reefs stand so far from the shores which they front.

We can also perceive, that a line drawn perpendicularly down from the

outer edge of the new reef, to the foundation of solid rock beneath the

old fringing-reef, will exceed by as many feet as there have been feet

of subsidence, that small limit of depth at which the effective corals

can live:--the little architects having built up their great wall-like

mass, as the whole sank down, upon a basis formed of other corals and

their consolidated fragments. Thus the difficulty on this head, which

appeared so great, disappears.

If, instead of an island, we had taken the shore of a continent fringed

with reefs, and had imagined it to have subsided, a great straight

barrier, like that of Australia or New Caledonia, separated from the

land by a wide and deep channel, would evidently have been the result.

Let us take our new encircling barrier-reef, of which the section is

now represented by unbroken lines, and which, as I have said, is a real

section through Bolabola, and let it go on subsiding. As the

barrier-reef slowly sinks down, the corals will go on vigorously

growing upwards; but as the island sinks, the water will gain inch by

inch on the shore--the separate mountains first forming separate

islands within

[picture]

one great reef--and finally, the last and highest pinnacle

disappearing. The instant this takes place, a perfect atoll is formed:

I have said, remove the high land from within an encircling

barrier-reef, and an atoll is left, and the land has been removed. We

can now perceive how it comes that atolls, having sprung from

encircling barrier-reefs, resemble them in general size, form, in the

manner in which they are grouped together, and in their arrangement in

single or double lines; for they may be called rude outline charts of

the sunken islands over which they stand. We can further see how it

arises that the atolls in the Pacific and Indian Oceans extend in lines

parallel to the generally prevailing strike of the high islands and

great coast-lines of those oceans. I venture, therefore, to affirm,

that on the theory of the upward growth of the corals during the

sinking of the land, [13] all the leading features in those wonderful

structures, the lagoon-islands or atolls, which have so long excited

the attention of voyagers, as well as in the no less wonderful

barrier-reefs, whether encircling small islands or stretching for

hundreds of miles along the shores of a continent, are simply explained.

It may be asked, whether I can offer any direct evidence of the

subsidence of barrier-reefs or atolls; but it must be borne in mind how

difficult it must ever be to detect a movement, the tendency of which

is to hide under water the part affected. Nevertheless, at Keeling

atoll I observed on all sides of the lagoon old cocoa-nut trees

undermined and falling; and in one place the foundation-posts of a

shed, which the inhabitants asserted had stood seven years before just

above high-water mark, but now was daily washed by every tide: on

inquiry I found that three earthquakes, one of them severe, had been

felt here during the last ten years. At Vanikoro, the lagoon-channel

is remarkably deep, scarcely any alluvial soil has accumulated at the

foot of the lofty included mountains, and remarkably few islets have

been formed by the heaping of fragments and sand on the wall-like

barrier reef; these facts, and some analogous ones, led me to believe

that this island must lately have subsided and the reef grown upwards:

here again earthquakes are frequent and very severe. In the Society

archipelago, on the other hand, where the lagoon-channels are almost

choked up, where much low alluvial land has accumulated, and where in

some cases long islets have been formed on the barrier-reefs--facts

all showing that the islands have not very lately subsided--only feeble

shocks are most rarely felt. In these coral formations, where the land

and water seem struggling for mastery, it must be ever difficult to

decide between the effects of a change in the set of the tides and of a

slight subsidence: that many of these reefs and atolls are subject to

changes of some kind is certain; on some atolls the islets appear to

have increased greatly within a late period; on others they have been

partially or wholly washed away. The inhabitants of parts of the

Maldiva archipelago know the date of the first formation of some

islets; in other parts, the corals are now flourishing on water-washed

reefs, where holes made for graves attest the former existence of

inhabited land. It is difficult to believe in frequent changes in the

tidal currents of an open ocean; whereas, we have in the earthquakes

recorded by the natives on some atolls, and in the great fissures

observed on other atolls, plain evidence of changes and disturbances in

progress in the subterranean regions.

It is evident, on our theory, that coasts merely fringed by reefs

cannot have subsided to any perceptible amount; and therefore they

must, since the growth of their corals, either have remained stationary

or have been upheaved. Now, it is remarkable how generally it can be

shown, by the presence of upraised organic remains, that the fringed

islands have been elevated: and so far, this is indirect evidence in

favour of our theory. I was particularly struck with this fact, when I

found, to my surprise, that the descriptions given by MM. Quoy and

Gaimard were applicable, not to reefs in general as implied by them,

but only to those of the fringing class; my surprise, however, ceased

when I afterwards found that, by a strange chance, all the several

islands visited by these eminent naturalists, could be shown by their

own statements to have been elevated within a recent geological era.

Not only the grand features in the structure of barrier-reefs and of

atolls, and to their likeness to each other in form, size, and other

characters, are explained on the theory of subsidence--which theory we

are independently forced to admit in the very areas in question, from

the necessity of finding bases for the corals within the requisite

depth--but many details in structure and exceptional cases can thus

also be simply explained. I will give only a few instances. In

barrier-reefs it has long been remarked with surprise, that the

passages through the reef exactly face valleys in the included land,

even in cases where the reef is separated from the land by a

lagoon-channel so wide and so much deeper than the actual passage

itself, that it seems hardly possible that the very small quantity of

water or sediment brought down could injure the corals on the reef.

Now, every reef of the fringing class is breached by a narrow gateway

in front of the smallest rivulet, even if dry during the greater part

of the year, for the mud, sand, or gravel, occasionally washed down

kills the corals on which it is deposited. Consequently, when an

island thus fringed subsides, though most of the narrow gateways will

probably become closed by the outward and upward growth of the corals,

yet any that are not closed (and some must always be kept open by the

sediment and impure water flowing out of the lagoon-channel) will still

continue to front exactly the upper parts of those valleys, at the

mouths of which the original basal fringing-reef was breached.

We can easily see how an island fronted only on one side, or on one

side with one end or both ends encircled by barrier-reefs, might after

long-continued subsidence be converted either into a single wall-like

reef, or into an atoll with a great straight spur projecting from it,

or into two or three atolls tied together by straight reefs--all of

which exceptional cases actually occur. As the reef-building corals

require food, are preyed upon by other animals, are killed by sediment,

cannot adhere to a loose bottom, and may be easily carried down to a

depth whence they cannot spring up again, we need feel no surprise at

the reefs both of atolls and barriers becoming in parts imperfect. The

great barrier of New Caledonia is thus imperfect and broken in many

parts; hence, after long subsidence, this great reef would not produce

one great atoll 400 miles in length, but a chain or archipelago of

atolls, of very nearly the same dimension with those in the Maldiva

archipelago. Moreover, in an atoll once breached on opposite sides,

from the likelihood of the oceanic and tidal currents passing straight

through the breaches, it is extremely improbable that the corals,

especially during continued subsidence, would ever be able again to

unite the rim; if they did not, as the whole sank downwards, one atoll

would be divided into two or more. In the Maldiva archipelago there

are distinct atolls so related to each other in position, and separated

by channels either unfathomable or very deep (the channel between Ross

and Ari atolls is 150 fathoms, and that between the north and south

Nillandoo atolls is 200 fathoms in depth), that it is impossible to

look at a map of them without believing that they were once more

intimately related. And in this same archipelago, Mahlos-Mahdoo atoll

is divided by a bifurcating channel from 100 to 132 fathoms in depth,

in such a manner, that it is scarcely possible to say whether it ought

strictly to be called three separate atolls, or one great atoll not yet

finally divided.

I will not enter on many more details; but I must remark that the

curious structure of the northern Maldiva atolls receives (taking into

consideration the free entrance of the sea through their broken

margins) a simple explanation in the upward and outward growth of the

corals, originally based both on small detached reefs in their lagoons,

such as occur in common atolls, and on broken portions of the linear

marginal reef, such as bounds every atoll of the ordinary form. I

cannot refrain from once again remarking on the singularity of these

complex structures--a great sandy and generally concave disk rises

abruptly from the unfathomable ocean, with its central expanse studded,

and its edge symmetrically bordered with oval basins of coral-rock just

lipping the surface of the sea, sometimes clothed with vegetation, and

each containing a lake of clear water!

One more point in detail: as in the two neighbouring archipelagoes

corals flourish in one and not in the other, and as so many conditions

before enumerated must affect their existence, it would be an

inexplicable fact if, during the changes to which earth, air, and water

are subjected, the reef-building corals were to keep alive for

perpetuity on any one spot or area. And as by our theory the areas

including atolls and barrier-reefs are subsiding, we ought occasionally

to find reefs both dead and submerged. In all reefs, owing to the

sediment being washed out of the lagoon-channel to leeward, that side

is least favourable to the long-continued vigorous growth of the

corals; hence dead portions of reef not unfrequently occur on the

leeward side; and these, though still retaining their proper wall-like

form, are now in several instances sunk several fathoms beneath the

surface. The Chagos group appears from some cause, possibly from the

subsidence having been too rapid, at present to be much less favourably

circumstanced for the growth of reefs than formerly: one atoll has a

portion of its marginal reef, nine miles in length, dead and submerged;

a second has only a few quite small living points which rise to the

surface, a third and fourth are entirely dead and submerged; a fifth is

a mere wreck, with its structure almost obliterated. It is remarkable

that in all these cases, the dead reefs and portions of reef lie at

nearly the same depth, namely, from six to eight fathoms beneath the

surface, as if they had been carried down by one uniform movement. One

of these "half-drowned atolls," so called by Capt. Moresby (to whom I

am indebted for much invaluable information), is of vast size, namely,

ninety nautical miles across in one direction, and seventy miles in

another line; and is in many respects eminently curious. As by our

theory it follows that new atolls will generally be formed in each new

area of subsidence, two weighty objections might have been raised,

namely, that atolls must be increasing indefinitely in number; and

secondly, that in old areas of subsidence each separate atoll must be

increasing indefinitely in thickness, if proofs of their occasional

destruction could not have been adduced. Thus have we traced the

history of these great rings of coral-rock, from their first origin

through their normal changes, and through the occasional accidents of

their existence, to their death and final obliteration.

In my volume on "Coral Formations" I have published a map, in which I

have coloured all the atolls dark-blue, the barrier-reefs pale-blue,

and the fringing reefs red. These latter reefs have been formed whilst

the land has been stationary, or, as appears from the frequent presence

of upraised organic remains, whilst it has been slowly rising: atolls

and barrier-reefs, on the other hand, have grown up during the directly

opposite movement of subsidence, which movement must have been very

gradual, and in the case of atolls so vast in amount as to have buried

every mountain-summit over wide ocean-spaces. Now in this map we see

that the reefs tinted pale and dark-blue, which have been produced by

the same order of movement, as a general rule manifestly stand near

each other. Again we see, that the areas with the two blue tints are

of wide extent; and that they lie separate from extensive lines of

coast coloured red, both of which circumstances might naturally have

been inferred, on the theory of the nature of the reefs having been

governed by the nature of the earth's movement. It deserves notice

that in more than one instance where single red and blue circles

approach near each other, I can show that there have been oscillations

of level; for in such cases the red or fringed circles consist of

atolls, originally by our theory formed during subsidence, but

subsequently upheaved; and on the other hand, some of the pale-blue or

encircled islands are composed of coral-rock, which must have been

uplifted to its present height before that subsidence took place,

during which the existing barrier-reefs grew upwards.

Authors have noticed with surprise, that although atolls are the

commonest coral-structures throughout some enormous oceanic tracts,

they are entirely absent in other seas, as in the West Indies: we can

now at once perceive the cause, for where there has not been

subsidence, atolls cannot have been formed; and in the case of the West

Indies and parts of the East Indies, these tracts are known to have

been rising within the recent period. The larger areas, coloured red

and blue, are all elongated; and between the two colours there is a

degree of rude alternation, as if the rising of one had balanced the

sinking of the other. Taking into consideration the proofs of recent

elevation both on the fringed coasts and on some others (for instance,

in South America) where there are no reefs, we are led to conclude that

the great continents are for the most part rising areas: and from the

nature of the coral-reefs, that the central parts of the great oceans

are sinking areas. The East Indian archipelago, the most broken land

in the world, is in most parts an area of elevation, but surrounded and

penetrated, probably in more lines than one, by narrow areas of

subsidence.

I have marked with vermilion spots all the many known active volcanos

within the limits of this same map. Their entire absence from every

one of the great subsiding areas, coloured either pale or dark blue, is

most striking and not less so is the coincidence of the chief volcanic

chains with the parts coloured red, which we are led to conclude have

either long remained stationary, or more generally have been recently

upraised. Although a few of the vermilion spots occur within no great

distance of single circles tinted blue, yet not one single active

volcano is situated within several hundred miles of an archipelago, or

even small group of atolls. It is, therefore, a striking fact that in

the Friendly archipelago, which consists of a group of atolls upheaved

and since partially worn down, two volcanos, and perhaps more, are

historically known to have been in action. On the other hand, although

most of the islands in the Pacific which are encircled by

barrier-reefs, are of volcanic origin, often with the remnants of

craters still distinguishable, not one of them is known to have ever

been in eruption. Hence in these cases it would appear, that volcanos

burst forth into action and become extinguished on the same spots,

accordingly as elevatory or subsiding movements prevail there.

Numberless facts could be adduced to prove that upraised organic

remains are common wherever there are active volcanos; but until it

could be shown that in areas of subsidence, volcanos were either absent

or inactive, the inference, however probable in itself, that their

distribution depended on the rising or falling of the earth's surface,

would have been hazardous. But now, I think, we may freely admit this

important deduction.

Taking a final view of the map, and bearing in mind the statements made

with respect to the upraised organic remains, we must feel astonished

at the vastness of the areas, which have suffered changes in level

either downwards or upwards, within a period not geologically remote.

It would appear also, that the elevatory and subsiding movements follow

nearly the same laws. Throughout the spaces interspersed with atolls,

where not a single peak of high land has been left above the level of

the sea, the sinking must have been immense in amount. The sinking,

moreover, whether continuous, or recurrent with intervals sufficiently

long for the corals again to bring up their living edifices to the

surface, must necessarily have been extremely slow. This conclusion is

probably the most important one which can be deduced from the study of

coral formations;--and it is one which it is difficult to imagine how

otherwise could ever have been arrived at. Nor can I quite pass over

the probability of the former existence of large archipelagoes of lofty

islands, where now only rings of coral-rock scarcely break the open

expanse of the sea, throwing some light on the distribution of the

inhabitants of the other high islands, now left standing so immensely

remote from each other in the midst of the great oceans. The

reef-constructing corals have indeed reared and preserved wonderful

memorials of the subterranean oscillations of level; we see in each

barrier-reef a proof that the land has there subsided, and in each

atoll a monument over an island now lost. We may thus, like unto a

geologist who had lived his ten thousand years and kept a record of the

passing changes, gain some insight into the great system by which the

surface of this globe has been broken up, and land and water

interchanged.

[1] These Plants are described in the Annals of Nat. Hist., vol. i.,

1838, p. 337.

[2] Holman's Travels, vol. iv. p. 378.

[3] Kotzebue's First Voyage, vol. iii. p. 155.

[4] The thirteen species belong to the following orders:--In the

Coleoptera, a minute Elater; Orthoptera, a Gryllus and a Blatta;

Hemiptera, one species; Homoptera, two; Neuroptera a Chrysopa;

Hymenoptera, two ants; Lepidoptera nocturna, a Diopaea, and a

Pterophorus (?); Diptera, two species.

[5] Kotzebue's First Voyage, vol. iii. p. 222.

[6] The large claws or pincers of some of these crabs are most

beautifully adapted, when drawn back, to form an operculum to the

shell, nearly as perfect as the proper one originally belonging to the

molluscous animal. I was assured, and as far as my observations went I

found it so, that certain species of the hermit-crab always use certain

species of shells.

[7] Some natives carried by Kotzebue to Kamtschatka collected stones to

take back to their country.

[8] See Proceedings of Zoological Society, 1832, p. 17.

[9] Tyerman and Bennett. Voyage, etc. vol. ii. p. 33.

[10] I exclude, of course, some soil which has been imported here in

vessels from Malacca and Java, and likewise, some small fragments of

pumice, drifted here by the waves. The one block of greenstone,

moreover, on the northern island must be excepted.

[11] These were first read before the Geological Society in May, 1837,

and have since been developed in a separate volume on the "Structure

and Distribution of Coral Reefs."

[12] It is remarkable that Mr. Lyell, even in the first edition of his

"Principles of Geology," inferred that the amount of subsidence in the

Pacific must have exceeded that of elevation, from the area of land

being very small relatively to the agents there tending to form it,

namely, the growth of coral and volcanic action.

[13] It has been highly satisfactory to me to find the following

passage in a pamphlet by Mr. Couthouy, one of the naturalists in the

great Antarctic Expedition of the United States:--"Having personally

examined a large number of coral-islands and resided eight months among

the volcanic class having shore and partially encircling reefs. I may

be permitted to state that my own observations have impressed a

conviction of the correctness of the theory of Mr. Darwin."--The

naturalists, however, of this expedition differ with me on some points

respecting coral formations.

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