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Horace Kephart Journal 18

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  • Horace Kephart (1862-1931) was a noted naturalist, woodsman, journalist, and author. In 1904, he left St. Louis and permanently moved to western North Carolina. Living and working in a cabin on Hazel Creek in Swain County, Kephart began to document life in the Great Smoky Mountains. He created 27 journals in which he made copious notes on a variety of topics. Journal 18 (previously known as Journal VI) includes information on weather, steamboats and natural features. Click the link in the Related Materials field to view a table of contents for this journal.
  • I ATMOSPHERE . ATMOSPHERE - Clear. Of Greece. "Sharp shadows, defined as by a needle's point." "Soft and exquisite clearness" of the sunlight. Apparent closeness of the remote. (Hamerton, Landscape, 148.) SKY • .. DAWN. 11 There was little or no morning bank . A brightening came in the east; then a wash o:f some ine:f:fable, :faint, nameless hue between crimson and silver; and then coals o:f :fire . These glimmered awhile on the sea-line, and seemed to brighten and darken and spread out; and still the night and t11e stars reigned undisturbed . It was as though a spark should catch and glow and creep along the foot o:f some heavy and almost incombustible wall-hanging, and the room itsel:f be scarce menaced . Yet a little a:fter, and the whole east glowed with gold and sca~let, and the hollow of heaven was :filled ~ with the dayligl1t • 11 ( stevens on, Ebb Tide, p . 109-110 . ) ~ . " Day had already filled the clear heavens; the sun already 'lighted in a rosy bloom upon the crest of Ben Kyaw; but all below I me the rude knolls of Aros and the shield of the sea la~ ste~ped ·in the clear darkline twilight of the dawn. . .• At a str~de the sunshine fell on Aros, and the shadows and colors le~ped into being. 11 (St. , Merry Men. 74.) t 11 It drew on to morning . 11 St . "Day began to come in . " 11 11 The first peep of morning." St . "The da•n had come quite clear . " " nWhen I got to the top the dawn was come . 11 St . "All the while, with the moorfowl crying 'peep!' in the heather, and the light coming slowly clearer in the east . 11 St. At the flush of dawn . HK . With the first peep of day I opened my eyes, to find myself in .•• "The world was flooded with a blue light, the mother of the dawn . 11 St . "The day was tiptoe on the threshold of the east . " St . "The dawn was growing ruddy in a long belt over the hill-tops, and day was about to flood the plateau . " St . "When I awoke again, many of the stars had disappeared ; only the stronger companions of the night still burned visibly overhead; and away towards the east I saw a faint haze of light, such as had been the Milky Way when I was last awake. Day was at hand . . . • The blue darkness lay long in the glade where I had so sweetly slumbered; but soon there was a broad streak of orange melting into gold along the mounatin-tops of Vivarais . A solemn glee possessed my mind at this gradual and lovely coming in of day •.. • Nothing had altered but the light, and that, indeed, shed over all a spirit of life and of breathing peace, and moved me to a strange exhiliration. ~· . :. ~., Ten minutes after, the sunlight spread at a gallop along the hillside, scattering shadows and sparkles, and the day had come completely . " St. "The stars were not quite extinguished . The heaven was of that enchanting mild gray-blue of the early morn. A still clear light began to fall, and the trees on the hillside were outlined sharply against the sky . " St . ,. DAWN . u tfw,... ~ ~ ~ ML ~ ~ 'd,.-L, ttz ~ ./wl«-- ~ ,/~ Jr:! _f.: ,.¢t- ~ ~~ ~ f~~oL. --J.. -~~ 1 --r )/:;;;;t;L t/x {11./1-~ ~ 1r«l,;~ krt.t../.. .-1./l ;a ~w e,e,_ ;.,....~~- ) t~~ ~ ,..c-~ ~ rk- +-- ""''"'::::; ~ ra/l.• N :/lt:o~) :4'1 .Z'/i, "The day called us about five. A beautiful morning it wa s, the high westerly wind still blowing strong, but the clouds all blown away to Europe." St. • SUNRISE. MORNING. From a mountain top. (Hamerton, Landscape,l86.) A~~&~~MM4ijJk~~~~~~. Sunrise over Constantinople. (De Amicis, LWBL, 1,456.) 11The sun was not long up, and shone straight in our eyes."St. 6 7 SUNLIGHT . , BLUE SKY . MIDDAY. "It was now high noon. 11 St. "It was now high day, cloudless, and very hot . 11 S!. CLOUDS. (See Cave, Clouds; Inwards, Weather Lore.) ucurling up perpendicular precipices like the foam of the ocean of hell during a springtide.n(Eyron.) 1). ~ ~ ~ ~ c4td..- ~- a 1"7~~L~.. ~ Scud: light, vapory clouds driven rapidly before the wind. 10 SHADOWS. a~k#J .;_A,~ ,¥ ~1 ~..,3'.1. SUNSET. 11 Nay, more , the very transience o:f these evening s:plendors gives them a :pa t hetic charm. We know that they will not last longer t han some ri ch but melancholy strain ~n music , and that they will never be :P;Iayed over again exactly , so long as the world endures . " (Hamerton , Landscape , 115 . ) At Constantinople. (De Amicis,LWBL,I,456.) From the Surruni t of Aconcagua. " . .. The most sublil,je and gorgeous coloring I have evc:b beheld. The sun, a great ball of lllood-red fire in a cloudless sky, was dipping into the waters of the Pacific. Rapidly it sank, md dis­appeared from vievr . Yet, as if still struggling for oupremacy 11i th the :fast-ap:proaching night, an afterglow of surpassing beauty sprf'ad over land and sea in a serie<J of mag'hif'icent changes of color. The mighty expanse of wa.tr--r :from north to south, together with the sky above it, ras suf'fused vri th a fiery red glow. While the red in tho sky remained, the a.ters, through a variety of intermediate shades I/ of coloring, turnt'!d slo vly to pu.r:ple and then to blue. And yet vre were not in darkness , :for :rith the sun's departure the risen moon declared itBel:f with vondrous brightness , penetrating the thin atrnorJ­phere and flooding everything v1i th its colder light . The effect produced by such a combination of brilliant moonlight and glorious sunset was beautiful beyond words . For during half an hour that i"Tonderf'ul glow rested on the horizon of the Pacific-- a great red line of subdued :fire sus}Jended in nid-air, the darkness that had fallen like a pall on sea and land beneath severing its connection with the earth. 11 (Stuart Vines in Fitz Gerald, The Highest ll.ndes,l24.) "Suddenly my attention was arrested by the ma.gni:ficant spcctac:te of the afterglow follow.i ng the sunset, ~s it hung over the east ern sky over the pam}Jas . A line of' :fire, ~s it seemed, vras spread acres::> the heavens, nloYrly tJhanging to colder tints . The rain how of shift­ing tJolors thl3.t hung thus in the :fl3.r-distant rll3.st in tho t\7ilight, 1.'ras (Wen more 'Tond.e>rful than the sunset \70 had seen from Aconcagua. The effect ,~ras extrl.lo-:r.'dinary, for, the eye bein~ unaided by any :1ight of foreground leading up to it, this fiery streru: seemed assuredly some startling meteoric phenomenon. All objects at a great distance seen :from a high mountain have, to the inexperienced eye, especially at :first oigl1t, the a:ppearmco of being lifted up too high. The obnerver looks do·m f'or the horizon,-- and lo! it is high above . The higher one goos the grel3.ter is the illusion. This lasts only for a time, :for the E!'Je is led 'bl! the ground hcneath, the slope of the moW1tain, the ranges and V'lllcys 1)Cti-7Pen, U}J to the distant blue line, and the horizon h1.mt1)les it<Jelf and re<Jumcr, its proper place . Now here there r.,ras nothing to lead the eye or to te>ach it that this band of fire across the dark arc of heaven had any connection with the earth. I !3hall never forget its p;randeur. The colors turned :pale llnd faded out, night came on, hut the moon shone brightly in the sky , and hatlted the ·tide cxr)anse of stony poalr:s and aiguillcs beneath us in its somber light . " ( same. ) "It was drawing on to sundown when ••• 11 St. "The sun was already gone from the desert mountains of Ardgour upon the hither side, but shone on those of Appin on the farther. 11 St. 12. TWILIGHT . f}~ ril<i :y .R r ...::y- 1Z t;;J;.j.t.J..: It rf.L d,_/. ~~ 1;1&l. ry!U.• ~ f.~•ll ~- ,, ~ ~ il-c~ 1f-d:4 'M-~-., .. ~ ~ 't ~ ~ -fn~ Jl;;;,(;;;v ~ Jk # ~ /h.~ cc~~ -+~~~-J.;fft~~~cj~ ~ ~· "The nighf had begun to fall. 11 11The dusk began to fall. 11 St. 11The cool morning (oe evening) twilight. HK. ( Q DARKNESS , GLOOM . Mountain gloom. (Wm .Black in Ha,erton, Landscape,58 . ) •tj ~ ~ ... -~~ a:::fa«J.-1"/l-~ ~ tt;;: ,.f&...-1 d;;:i­~~ jJAA:.L~--.tde- ~~ y.2J'!l, qf..,. ~~ h rr.aJil.~_r.,t .;;_ ~ ~ • .. cb-, .1 g_r • /.J "It was so dark inside, it seemed a body could scarce breathe."St. I felt my way, in the pitch darkness, with a beating heart. -- "Peer as I pleased, however, I could see nothing." St. Then vanished into the shades and mists. -- "The view, looking back on my day's journey, was both wild and sad. Mount M~zenc and the peaks beyond St.Julien stood out in trenchant gloom against a cold glitter in the east; and the intervening field of hills had fallen together into one broad wash of shadow, except here and there the outline of a wooded sugar-loaf in black, here and there a white irregular patch to represent a cultivated farm, and here and there a blot where the Loire, the Gazeille, or the Laussonne wandered in a gorge." (§1.) NIGHT. (Night on the Heath.)- "Then it became the home of strange phantoms; and was found to be the hitherto unrecognized original of those wild regions of obscur1ty wh1ch are vaguely felt to be compassing us about in midnight dreams of flights and disaster, and are never thought of after the dream, till revived by scenes like thls. 11 (Hardy, Return of the Native.) Under the blazing dog-star. HK. The drowsy earth. As night set in. The shades and mists of night. About nightfall. 11 The black hours. 11 St. "A wonderful clear night of stars. 11 St. 11As soon as the shadow of the night had fallen. 11 St. 11In the first gloaming of the night. 11 . St. 11 The clearness and sweetness of the night." St. 11 The sky was cloudless; .•. in the darkest part of that night ••• I have often seen it darker in a winter midday. 11 St .Kid., 218. 11 Suddenly, at a single swoop, the night fell. I have been abroad in many a black night, but never in a blacker. A glimmer of rocks, a glimmer of the track where it was well beaten, a certain fleecy density, or night within night, for a tree,-- this was all that I could discriminate. The sky was simply dark­ness overhead; even the flying clouds pursued their way invisibly to human eyesight. I could not distinguish my hand at arm's length from the track, nor my goad, at the same distance, from the meadows or the sky." St. 11But it was night when I reached the summit; the moon was riding high and clear; and only a few gray streaks of twilight lingered in the west. A yawning valley, .gulfed in blackness, lay like a hole in created nature at my feet; but the outline of the hills was sharp against the sky." St. "It was likely between one and two; the moon (as I have said) was down; a strongish wind, carrying a heavy wrack of cloud, had set in suddenly from the wee~; and we began our movement in as black a night as ever a fugitive or a murderer wanted." St. NIGHT, Voices of. Wilmot Tovrnsend in F.& s.,xxxix,ll3. Ed. in same,xxxix,l77. Roosevelt, Wild.Hunter,145-a. 16 WEATHER. 17 WEATHER - Hot. Hot winds Of the prairies. Garden k Forest, Viii,338. ·~- k::J ·M-. ~-4A~ ~.t-_ N '~~ ~-~.~ ~• WEATHER- Tropic Heat . 11 Tlle airs were very light , their spAed was small; the heat intense . The decks were scorching mnderfoot ; the sun flamed over­head, brazen out of a brazen sky ; the pitch bubbled in the seams , and the brains in the brain- _an . " ( Stevenson, Ebb Tide , p . lll . ) "We lay on the bare top of a rock, like scones upon a girdle; the sun beat upon us cruelly; the rock grew so heated, a man could scarce endure the touch of it .•.• Like the position of that saint thQ.t was martyred upon a gridiron. 11 St .Kid.,l96-197. WEATHER-- Mild. "On a clear, westerly blowing day. 11 St. "The sun shone clear ••• and steady. 11 St. 11 The strong sun upon my shoulders warmed me to the heart."St. If' WEATHER - Cold . 11It was a time in cottages when the breath of sleepers freezes to the sheets, when round the drawing-room fire of a thick-walled mansion the sitters' backs are cold even while their faces are all aglow. Many a smal~ bird went to bed supperless that night among the bare boughs." (Hardy, Far fr. M. Crowd.) It was cold enough to split rocks. HK. :2.0 The winds whistle shrilly over shorn and desolate fields. HK. "It was perishing cold, a gray, windy, wintry morning; misty clouds flew fast and low; the wind piped over the naked platform; . and the only speck of colour was away behind Mount M€zenc and the eastern hills, where the sky still wore the orange of the dawn.~ (St.) nThe wind huddled the trees. The golden specks of autumn in the briches tossed shiveringly. Overhead the sky was full of strings and shreds of vapour, flying, vanishing, reappearing, and turning about an axis like tumblers, as the wind hounded them through heaven'• It was wild weather and famishing cold. 11 St. COLD, Arctic. MMen talk of 'dying of cold' who have never been within ten degrees of frost-bite. How much can they know of that cold hand which thrusts right in to heart and brain and holds them still? or of such a winter scene as that we saw? Round us there were no delicate traceries of frost, no plumes o~ snow. Those are for English winters, or Christmas cards. The rocks we had passed on our way to the river•s mouth were hung with icicles as thick as trees, or so sheeted with ice that they looked like glaciers rather than frozen rocks. The earth itself was not so much covered with snow as that there was no earth, and no indication of it, except here and there the .top of a black pine from which the wind had torn its shroud, so that it stood out in sharp contrast to the smothering whiteness in which its fellows stood waist-deep, and under the load of which now and again a great tree snapped with the sound of a cannon-shot. But for these occasional reports this dead world was dumb in its misery; every pulse had ceased to throb, the very heart of it was stilled. We talk of the silence of the night and of the tomb! ~I In the tomb there must be the sound of those who pass overhead; the pulses of the earth, and the stir o~ growing things in the ground; · and as for the night, it is fUll of voices, t11ough they may not be familiar to the children of the day. But on the frozen river there was no sound nor any movement, not even cloud-shadows to chase one another oYer the snow, or a wind to drive tba:n and moan amongst the trees. " ( Clive Phillipps-WolleY, The Chicamon Stone.) FROST. ··· {t jt ..; ol'~j· 1 {:. Jy nt-0·1~·:!Y; - ~t CrrC PAZ ~~-r:J i~ ?nv.-1~~ _- ~~' rt.... ~ Ail P~f~"t~L ,:)};. ~- If:!(.. 7~ ~--f.;, f.---- Jt;:, ~ ~) ..:JI4: ~~-_a_ 4 ~;#<. A rimy morning. HK . 23 HAIL, SLEET. ~ -~ -/?Me, Blinding sleet. SNOW . ~..maw~~. ICE . WEATHER - Dry . DROUGHT. HUMIDITY, DEW. "Heavy dew fell and drenched the moor like rain." St. FOG, MIST . "-(J(...-h~ 'M'ff"~ JJ..,~~ :: ~· The mists of the morning. HK . "We were often so involved in fog that we must lie quiet till it lightened . " St . Kid.,240 . RAnr . ~~ ~-.....;, ~~-~-" Drizzle. A mizzling rain. The rain lashed ••• The rain beat obstinately against the window-panes. "A heavy rain that drummed upon the roof. 11 St. 11The wind had gone down as soon as the rain began." St. "A heavy, cold,and plumping rain." St. 11 Instead of the sum rising to dry me, it came on to rain, with a thick mist; so that my case was lamentable. 11 St. "All day it streamed rain; the island ran like a sop; there was no dry spot to be found. 11 St. "The rain falling like black crape upon the mountain. 11 St. .J/ STILL ATMOSPHERE . &J,.::t~,.. CLEARING WEATHER. ~ ~ ~tz ?rAkr. a~~ cJJ..-~ ~~tl ~ N-~ d;;tl ~. f.v+;lj~;k.L ~ 1. 1/;z- ~ ~ it;;-4 ~ ~~ cf-~ ~-fr:'r: ~.. ,~ l -~- az ·~·- J -J~ ..· .·i:w~ ,~.,.w..t ,;.;:., ~~~~~,;~§, .~ .2A?-J 7IJ, ?V~~ 1 ~~ "A breeze blew off the rain and brought out the sun." St. "It came clear and cold, with a touch in the air like frost, and a northerly wind that blew the clouds away and made the stars bright." St. "The wind sunk down, coming and going fainter and fainter, floating around the eaves of the tavern with an undulating, murmurous sound, as if it were turning itself into soft wings to bear away the spirit of a little child." (Aldrich.) "The weather had somewhat lightened, and the clouds massed in s quadron; but the fierce wind still hunted them through heaven, and cast great ungainly splashes of shadow and sunlight over the scene." St. ZEPHYR . BREEZE . WIND. rt.c. ~-turtit.J.. 1:1 1ti. J~ _.,;...1.. ~~rf~~~~~- ~ ~ 1- 'Jt;-~L ~. Moaning and wailing. The windows rattled in their frames. The shrill piping of the winter wind. 11The wind blew in faint and shifting capfuls." St. Right in the wind's eye. 11The wind, being in that cold quarter, the north-west, blew nearly in our faces as we went." St. CALM BEFORE A STORM. ''A gloomy and sUllen calm." (Hamerton, Landscape, 232.) WEATHER- Threatening. "The sun, which had been up s ome time, was already hot upon my neck; the air was listless and thundery, although purely clear; away over the north-west, where the isles lie thickliest congre­gated, some half-a-dozen small and ragged clouds hung together :1.n a covey; and the head of Ben Kyaw wol"e, not merely a few streamers, but a solid hood of vapor. There was a threat in the weather. The sea, it 14 true, was smooth lilce glass : even the Roost was but a seam on that wide mirror, and the Merry Men no more than caps of foam; but t o my eye and ear, so long familiar with these places, the sea also seemed to lie uneasily; a sound oT it, like a long 35 sigh, mounted to me where I stood; and, quiet as it was, the Roost itself appeared to be revolving mischief. 11 (stevenson, Merry Men,3o.) jf;- W1l4 ~~ ~ ~. )/$. "Day had already broken: gray, wet, discomfortable day." St. 11A dark day with clouds, and the sun shining upon little patches." St. 11It was a dark night, with a few stars low down; and as I stood just outside the door, I heard a hollow moaning of wind far off among the hills. I said to myself there was something thundery and changeful in the weather ... " St. "A gloom,like the approach of evening, had settled round the house." St. 11A fleet of black, menacing storm-clouds .•• " St. STORM, Brewing . (Hard!• Far fr. M. Crowd.)- "More sinister than those showers which r;1ere y threaten the wayfarer 's comfort, these menace life and happiness. You feel danger in their approach. 'The same evening the sheep had trailed home, head to tail, the behavior of rooks had been confused, and the horses had moved with timidity and caution • • • time went on and the moon vanished not to reap~ear. It was the farewell of the ambassador previous to war.' 11 {Moss in AUTH. env.,359.) STORM, Coming. The rich values of its monochrome. (Suggested by Hamerton, Landscape, 113-116.) .) ~-;_c.~~ 4-~ ~ ~-­~ wzv-- cL~- 1 It;;:~- "JV-1. ~,...,.J...) ~ i:o-j-A~, J..:t /• I A..;i;~~ "11-R.-.o. ~~~~.-a.-4.-nJ..a., tt.- ~~~I r~ t.f ~ ~ C;:;t... ~ 11 ' rJ ~~- ~ ~~ ~~. ~ 4~-&-:, Jt;;;;.. ~ ~ ..: .... ~ '*~~~.,..;:.~-- Towards night the wind hauled round from the east to the south­west. fa~:dr *8aaf1e~ WEATHER- Gale- Gathering . " For, first, "Cl1a storm that I had :foreseen was now advancing with almost tropical rapidity . The whole surface of the sea had been dulled from its conspicuous brightness to an ugly hue of cor1~gated lead ; alrAady in the distance the white waves , the uskipper ' s daughtersf 11 had begun to flee before a breeze that was still insensible on Aros; and already along the curve of sandag Bay there was a splashing run of sea that I could hear from where I stood. The change upon tlle sky was even more remarkable . There had begun to arise out of the south-west a huge and solid continent of scowling cloud; here and there , through rents in its contexture, the sun still poured a sheaf of spreading rays; and here and there , from all its edges, vast inky streamers lay forth along the yet unclouded sky . The menace was express and imminent . Even as I gazed, the sun was blotted out . At any moment the tempest might fall upon Aros in its might . 11 (Stevenson , Merry Men, 40-41 . ) "The whole world was shadowed over; only in the extreme east, on a hill of the mainland, one last gleam of s~nshine l~ngered like a jewel; rain had begun to fall. not heav1ly, but 1n great drops; the sea was rising with each moment. and ~lreadyna band of white encircled Aros and the nearer coasts of Gr1sapol. (Same, 4~.) "All was black and stormy to the eye; the last gleam of sun had vanished· a wind had sprung up, not yet high, but gusty and unsteady to the point; the rain, on the other hand, bad.ceased . . Short as was the interval, the sea al~eady ran vastly h1~her than when I bad stood there last; already 1t had regun to break over some of the outward reefs, and already it moaned aloud 1n the sea•caves of Aros. 11 (~. 46.) "As the day advanced, the wind veered round to the northeast, and settled itself down to work ..• The storm increased in violence and as night set in, the wind whistled in a spiteful falsetto key, and the tain lashed the old tavern as if it were a balky horse that refused to move on." (Aldrich.) .J9' SQUALL . STORM . Fury of its assault. (Aldrich in L.W.B.L.,I,347). Subsiding. 11 " 349. The roaring 11 shook and deafened me." St. "Now and then the tornado, sweeping down the side of Mount Agamenticus, bowled across the open country, and struck the ancient hostelry point-blank. • .• At intervals the wind hurled itself against the exposed gable, threatening to burst in the windows." (Aldrich.) .1/1 THUNDER AND LIGHTNING~ 0!1~1A-~ ~fo4+~· a~~. A blink of summer lightning. Salvos of thunders. HK. There came a clap of thunder that went through me with a jar. HK. "All of a sudden, without sound of wind or thunder, the whole sky lighted up with wild fire and went black again. I had to put my hand over my eyes to get back to the colour of the darkness; and indeed I was already half blinded when I stepped into the tower." St.Kid,33. 11 There came a blinding flash .•. and hard upon the heels of it a great tow-row of thunder." Same,35. STORM in the Forest. Hamerton, Landscape,53. \ (i - STORM. tt An oppressive slwnber h.ung about the :forest-brancb.es. In tb.e dells and on the heights was the sa111e dead heat. Here wgere t11e broolc tinkled it was no cool-li:r>ped sound, but metallic, and without the s-pirit of water. Yonder in a S})ace of moonlight on lusb. grass, th.Ej} beams were as white fire to sight and feeling. No haze s).Jread around. The valleys were clear, defined to the shadows of their verges; the distances sharply distinct, and with tl1.e colours of day but slightly softened. Richard beheld a roe moving across a slope of sward far out of rifle-mark. The breathless silence was signifi­cant, yet the moon shone in a broad blue heaven. Tong.ue out of mouth trotted the little dog after him; couched panting when he stopped an instant; rose weariedly when he started afresh. Now and then a large white night-moth flitted through the dusk of tb.e forest. On a barren corner of the wooded highland looking inland stood grey topless ruins set in nettles and rank grass-blades. Ricl1.ard mechanically sat do~n on the cru.r. nbling flints to rest, and listened to the panting of the dog. Sprinkled at his feet were emerald lights: hundreds of glow-worms studded the dark dry ground. He sat and eyed them, tb.inlcing not at all. His energies were expended in action. He sat as a part of the ruins, and the moon turned his shadow Westward from the south. Overhead, as she declined, long ripples o silver cloud were imperceptibly stealing toward her. They were the v n o:f a tempest. He did not observe them or the leaves beginning to chatter. When he again pursued ~ is course with his :face to the Rhine, a huge mountain appeared to rise sheer over him, and he had it in his mind to scale it. He zot no nearer to the base of it for all his viGourous outste~ping. The ground began to dip ; he lost sight of' the sky. Then b.ea.vy tb:ti.nder-drops struck his cheek, the leaves were singing, the earth breathed, it was black before him and behind. All at once the thunder spoke. The mountain he b.ad marked was bursting over him. Up !Dtarted the whole forest in violet fire. He saw the country at the foot of the hills to the bounding; Rhine gleam, quiver, extin­guisl1ed. Then there were pauses; and the lightning seemed as t11.e eye of heaven, and the thunder as the tone,ue of heaven,each alternately addressing him; filling him with awful rapture. Alone there-- sole human creature among tb.e grandeurs and mysteries of storm-- he felt the representative of his kind, and his spirit rose, and ularched, and exulted, let it be glory, let it be ~lin! Lower down the lightened abysses of air rolled the wrathful crash: then wb.i te tb.rusts of light were darted from the sky, and great curving ferns, seen steadfast in pallor a second, i,vere su-pernaturally agi tatcd, and vanisl1ed. Then a shrill son~ roused in the leaves and the herbage. Prolonged and louder it sounded, as deeper and heavier the deluie pressed. A mighty :force o:f Yrate..r satisfied the desire of the earth. Even in this, drenc11ed as he v;as by the first outpouring, Richard had a savage -pleasure. Keeping in motion he was scarcely conscious of the wet,and the grateful breath of the weeds was refreshing.a (Mered.ith, George. Richard Feverel, chap.xlii.) STORM ON MT . MITCHELL. "As we cat tb.ere [bY the grave of the eJqllorer Mitchell), awed a little by this presence, the clouds were gatherin~ from various quarters and drifting towards us. We could watch tl1e process of thunderstorms and tl1e manufacture of' tornnests I have often noticed on ot11.er high mountains how the clouds, forming like ~enii released from the earth, mount into the upper air, and in masses of torn fragments of mist hurry across t11e sky as to a rendezvous of witches. This was a different diSi}lay. These clouds came slowly sailing :from the distant horizon, like ships on an aerial voyage. some v1ere below us, some on our level; they were all in well-defined, distinct masses, molten silver on deck, below trailing rain, and attended on earth by gigantic shadows t11.at moved with them. This strange fleet of battle­ships, drifted by the shifting currents, was manoeuvring for an engagement. One after another, as they came into range about our peak of observation, they opened fire. Sharp flashes of lightning darted from one to the other; a jet of flame from one lea:ped across the interval and •.li!as buried in the bosom of its adversary ; and at every discn.arge the boom of great guns echoed through the mountains. It was something more than a royal salute to the tomb of the mortal at our feet, for the masses of cloud were rent in the fray, at every discharge tb.e rain was precipitated in increasing torrents, and soon the vast hulks were trailing torn fragments and wreaths of mist, like the shot-away shrouds and sails of ships in battle. Gradually, from this long ·range practice with single guns and exchange of broadsides, they drifted into closer conflict, rushed togeth.er, and we lost sight of tl1.e individual combatants in the general tumult of this aerial war • • • • I Wecaugb.t and saddled our horses, ••• envelopod ourselves in water-proofs,' and got into the stony path. for the descent just as tlte tor­rent came down. It did rain. It liglttened, the thunder crashed, the wind howled and twisted the tree-tops. It was as if we were pur­sued by tho avenging spirits of the mountains for our intrusion. such a tempest on this height had its terrors even for our hardy guide. He preferred to be lo'!rer down while it was going on." (Warner,C.D. On Horseback, 99-101.) STORM at Sea . ~~ f:J N fi.Jf;J~_.!/ ~"", STORM on the coast. (See also OCEAN-- Breakers.) uFor three days we had had the sullen threatening weather I have described. on the evening of this day there was a low moaning amongst the trees, and a heave and sigh at the base of the oliffs, whilst the widgeon and sea-fowl generally, not waiting for the flighting­time, oame whirling in in a hurry, by twos and threes, or in small flooks. They oame as if something was behind tham, and they did not make for the feeding-grounds, but, · after one or two ~iroling flights, pi tohed under tl1e lee of those points where there was · shelter from the worst of storms. The gulls too oame inland shrieking, and there was an unusual olamour amongst the myriads of orows who dwelt in the island. At sea, in the south-west, the ragged olouds were hurrying together, torn and trailing, and, through them from the low sun, great pale rays shot down to the gun-barrel grey of the sullen sea, making a watery arohway of dim light, behind whioh was the ooming storm. • •• The storm broke even as they reached shore, and the grinding of their keels on the beaoh, and the song of the rowers, was drowned in a soream of wind, whioh swung the tallest pines as if they had been saplings, and snapped the older ones with oraoks like pistol-shots. 11 (Olive Phillipps-WolleY, The Ohioamon stone-) STORM on a ~iver. VffiATHER- Tempest. uA little after sundown t11e :f'U.ll :f\.u•y of the gale broke forth, such a gale as I have never seen in summer , nor, seeing how swiftly it had come , even in winter . Mary and I sat in silence , the house quaking overhead, the tempest howling without , the fire between us sputtering with raindrops . Our thoughts were far away with the poor fellows on the schonn:er, or my not less unhappy uncle , house­less on the promontory; and yet ever and again we were startled back to ourselves, when the wind would rise and strike the gable like a solid body, or suddenly fall and draw away, so that the fire leaped into flame and our hearts bounded in our sides . Now the storm in its might would seize and shake tlle four cornel"'S of the roof, roaring like Leviathan in anger . Anon, in a lull , cold eddies of tempest moved shudderingly in the room, lifting the hair upon our heads and passing between us as we sat . And again the wind would break forth in a chorus of melancholy sounds, hooting low in the chimney, wailing with flutelil\.e softness round the house • .•• The night , though we were so little past midsummer, was as dark as January . Intervals of a groping twiligllt alternated with spells of utter blackness; and it was impossible to trace the reason of these changes in the flying horror of the sky . The wind blew the breath out of a man ' s nostrils ; all heaven seemed to thunder overhead like one huge sail; and when there fell a momentary lull on Aros, we could hear the gusts dismally sweeping in the distance . over all the lowlands of the Ross, the wind must have blown as fierce as on the open sea; and God only knows the uproar that was raging around the head of Ben Kyaw . Sheets oti mingled spray and rain were driven in our faces . All round the isle of Aros the surf, with an incessant, hannnering t mnder, beat upon the reefs and beaches . Now louder in one place, now lower in anot11er, like the combinations of orchestral music, the constant mass of sound was hardly va~ied for a moment . And loud above all this hurly-burly I could hear the changefUl voices of the Roost and the intermittent roaring of the Merry Men . At t11at houl", there flashed into my mind the reason of the name that they were called . For the noise of them seemed almost mirthfUl, as it out-topped the other noises of the night; or if not mirth:f'U.l, yet instinct with a portentious joviality . Nay, and it seemed even human . As when savage men have drunk away their reason, and, disca~ding speech, bawl together in their madness by the hour; so , to my ears, these deadly breakers shouted by Aros in the night . u (Stevenson, M:el"ry Men, pp . 52-54 . ) • • • 11From this post, he looks down upon the tumbling of tl!!e Merry Men. On such a night, of course, he peers upon a world of blackness, where the waters wheel and boil, where the waves joust together with the noise of an exp1os1on, and the foam towers and van1shes in the tw1nkling of an eye. Never before had I seen the Merry Men thus violent. The fury, he1ght and transien~y of their spoutings was a thing to be seen and not recounted. H1gh over our heads on the cliff rose thelr white columns in the darkness; and the same instant, like phantoms, they were gone. Sometimes three at a time would thus aspire and vanish; sometimes a gust took them, and the spray would tall about us, heavy as a wave. And yet the spec­tacle was rather madden1ng 1n its levity than impressive by its force. Thought was beaten down by the confounding uproar; a gleeful vacancy possessed the brains of men, a state akin to madness: and I found myself at times following the dance of the Merry Men as 1t were a tune upon a jigging 1nstrument. 11 (Same, 54-55.) W~ATHER-- Tempest. " I had slept a1"1out three hours when I was suddenly arrakcned by a treme:11.ous roaring sound, which seemed to come from far above us to the ~outh. To describe it I cannot do hPtter than quote my re­marks written on the spot:-- 1 Thursday, 8th April,lB97. zurhriggen, Pollinger, and self' bivouacked in small tent, 17 ,ooo feet, base of great spur, on rocks close to ice. Calr:1 al'ld Yrarn outoide when we fell asleep at 8 p.m. Awt~ul noise fror•1 al1ove me> to south ~roke me. It must be thunder. I listened intently. No, it is 11ind-- but there is no wind. Around the tent it is motionlesr,. Roaring ahove contin­ues, increases, becomes deafening. zurhri~gcn and Pollinger start up. Both declare it is thund~r, but come round to my opinion that it is an awful storm raging round the dome of Tupungato-- for that is ita direction . All hOlJCs of an ascent on the norrow are therefore at an end. Tent in dan~erous position right henPath rocks. A pitch­dart. night, the cold intense, ~Jan 't decar.1p, impossible to find our way down. Our only alternative to remaining, to move on to thn snow­fi(' ld. The noise increases, the storm is evidently grouing in stren­gth and approaching. IJyinr~ and lidt~ning-- Rleep out of the question, tho roar is awful-- like Niagara-- impossible to hnar one mothPr sp~ak. The storm is u:pon us-- gras-p the ace-axes to keep the tent from being wrPcl~ed. Sleeping-hags no protP-ction. The icy 'rrind penetrat­ing everything cuts us through and through: elacier beneath. Sound of falling stones ahove-- may he crushed any moment. But how can we move? Past midnight, storm furious-- for three hours we lie huddled, fearing that some rock from alJove ·Till crush t11e tent. The guy-ropes give ,_., ay-- ~omplPte vrreck. Tbc 1'Jind fallen a little at dawn-- all exhausted, .fall asleep. Awoke at 6. 30. No one n:pol:e. V'ind outside tells its own tale-- madness to go higher. No human heing can live on that great o~q>o8ed ridge with hurricane at zero-- crawl out-- a hopeless d!.l!m. Thermometer at 5°. Sit in silence, l:noYFing Yre J11Ust retreat. 1 " such (Stuart Vines in FitzGerald, Highest Andes,l87-8.) of the fa th, een in summer. nor, seeing lftly Mary and I sat in silence, the house t howling without, e ti~e between us Our thoughts were f away with the schoon r . . . and yet e and again we were star~led back to our ves, when the wind~oul rise and str1ke the gable like a solid body, r suddenly f~ and ~raw _ away, s~ that the ire .Leaped into flam "a.!ld our h rts bou ded 1n our s1des. Now he storm in its migh would seize and s ke the ~our corners of t e roof, roaring like Levia han in anger. Anon, 1n ~ 1~11. cold eddies of tempest mo ed .sfiudde-r.ingly in the room, l1ft1ng the air upon our .heads a ~-passing between ~ as we sat. And again the wind would bre· forth in a chorus of melancholy so nds, hooting low in the ch~e • wailing with flu e-like softness ound the house. • . • hough we were so litt.Le past midsummer, was .s dar as Januar. . Intervals of a groping twilight alternated w th spel s of u~ter blackness; and it was lmpossible :a trace the i~ reason of these chan~es in the f.Ly1ng horror of tne sky. The blew the breath out of a man's nostrils; all heaven ·seemed to thunder overhead like one huge sail; and when t~ere fell a momen~ary lull n Aros, we could hear the gusts dlsma.Lly sweeping 1n HURRICANE, CYCLONE, TEMPEST. The driving tempest. t?~~ r(.~.~ u ~ ~)~.4-ri.J ~-,.!::1 ~ ~­" rLMU~~ ttl Jt;;t-t«r~1 ~ ~~~...;._Pifz-~#-~· 4-' ~ f~ .;..._, Ji4. -~ =-4 ~--!-IT.;.. 4- ~-~,. ~ ~ -wtd.L -:;;;;::;z ~J..M.--uitf./r-"-~:' ~. ~ TORNADO. May 27, 1896, St.Louis. Noon. Barometer began to f'all steadily. Very hot. Fi tf'Ul winds f'rom every direction, but no coolness in them. 3 p.m. (shortly af'ter.) Peculiar looking clouds begin to f'loat lazily across the sky, in all directions, not governed by the N.W. wind. Sky inN. and w. begins to look sickly green. Clouds to s. few, and warmly tinted by sun. 4.30 p.m. Green clouds in N. become brighte:r and hang closer to earth. Thunderstorm comes up in E. bringing cool breeze with odor of burnt leather. street wind from N.; at tops of buildings from E.; clouds from S.E. and N.E. 4.55 p.m. Clouds cease shifting and marshal, going w. Heavy and ominous clouds come up from s.E. Lighter but dangerous looking clouds from N.E., higher than the others. Wind rising. Heavy lightning. Sky still bright in s. 5.05 p.m. Clouds meet over w. part of city and assume sausage shape. Vivid lightning. 5.10 p.m. Growing dark. Slight rain from s. Wind now from E., 37m. an hour. Suddenly out of w.s.w. comes a huge ball of cloud • . s~orm clouds return. Rain ceases. 5.17 p.m. Wind 80 m. an hour. Tornado strikes. Lasts 13 minutes. 5.35 p.m. Tornado past. 6.30 p.m • .Another wiclc.ed cloud comes out of N;.W., but brings only rain. FIRE . PRAIRIE FIRE. Well described in Emerson, Buel Hampton. FOREST FIRE . Well described by Bruncken, N. Amer . Forests, chap .v . RILL, RIVULET. BROOK . "Cool as the water seemed, this broiling day ••. it. •. had a mysterious invitation for the eyes." St. .RIVER . ~+Y~~'Vae~.o..1seJ.Q,all ~~·~~~~'f!iW.- ·· '"'"~···'~ ~ j ~~. ~--...· '/ ~t~ ) ..... ~ 1- ~; ;t.~~~.,J-Ij'f. ,4 ~ /}:- ~ ~ M, e'v ~.t-.... , fltw ~ ~ ... ~ /.;~ -1-..-~ IV ~M, "Above and below you may hear it wimpling over the stones, an amiable stripling of a river, which it seems absurd to call the Loire." St. "Here and there another stream would fall in from the right or the left, down a gorge of snow-wijite and tumultuary boulders. The river in the bottom (for it was rapidly growing a river, collecting on all hands as it trotted on its way) here foamed awhile in desperate rapids, and there lay in pools of the most enchanting sea-green shot with watery browns. As far as I have gone, I have never seen a river of so changeful and delicate a hue; crystal was not more clear, the meadows were not by half so green; and at every pool I saw I felt a thrill of longing to be out of these hot, dusty, and material garments, and bathe my naked body in the mountain air and water." St. RIVER- Rising . Vfhen rising rapidly the water at the middle of a river is considerably higher than at the shores - so much so as to appear like a turnpike road . ( Springer . ) 1 RIVER - Flood. ··---~·.cA.~~ ~~%<4.) flV ~~-.. 'fW., ~~A,.v...~. ~¥~ ~1-- .... ~~_z;...~!'f~- ~t~- 6o cr~ ~~-t~~ ~ ~ ~ ~,... ~ ~~ ~ ~ J~-~-~~ ~~~11 3o.y, ,,~ itZ ~ ~ 'Jt, ~ ~4- ,l«~ ~~~ ~ ....... ,.., ~ JtAJ:"h ~;tu.., ~ ~~'"'~ ~ ~ ~J ,.,. ~~ A-t- Jl. ...-.J.-~p.c~ tf ~~ ~ ~ ~ p::;;x- ...w-- ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ..? .,~ •.• "Where the streams were crying aloud. The sound of an infinite number of rivers came up from all i round. In this steady rain the springs of the mountain were brokeh up; every glen gushed water like a cistern; every stream was in high spate, and had filled and overflowed it a channel. 11 St. Kid ., 241. 6J SMOOTH WATER . CURRENT . v-4..:-fr~· ~.- ~ •.211, }J~I ~'I ~7f ... d,.J'N, ~ r.tl/:i ~-4d':;(U ~ ~-j:f;;, k~-''~. RIPPLES . "Gentle ripple of the Tweed over its pebbles . " f.scott . ) "The ripple lapping softly on the stones." St. "Low wash of the ripple . " A brisk wind swept up from the south crisping the water into countless ripples. WAVES . JJ.;Iz-+- ~1¥- ~- (~-~ ~ White-caps flecked the river. "Curded foam.""Bursting bubbles.""The waves idly beating."St. 70 .; THE MISSISSIPPI . MISSISSIPPI - References. Deming,By-ways of nature and life. G26. MISSISSIPPI - Dangers . Shooting a :fence . Agl"'ound in mud . ( Establisl'unent . ) Swept upon muddy shore by wash of steamer . striking a plantel"' while sailing . caving bank . Fog . Wind (Belgique) . MISSISSIPPI - Law of the River. ST.LOUIS- Harbor Scenes. smoky East St.Louis. Tall elevators. Powerf'ul, deep-draught tugs dashing hither and thither. Sedate ferry-boats, brick-red like freight cars, plodding from shore to shore. Fussy little launches, easoline smell in wake. ST .LOUIS- Eads Bridge . Trains , street-cars, automobiles , drays, footmen , in endless procession hither and yon. and from whose lofty parapets many a poor devil has plunged headlong into oblivion . ST .LOUIS- The Levee . Trains on levee and elevated . Merchandise stacked on the levee . Hurrying wagons . - Saloous : Bucket of Blood, Dewdrop Inn, Pimple on the River . - IL ~ J of-- /0 tl• 7LA.) /0 ~ :' ST . LOUIS -River Traffic . Busy seasons .- Wheat shipping , July and August . Hogs , begins about Oct . l5 . Keen rivalry of the companies . t STEAMBOATS - Loading !- ~argo . Barrels of oil . Coops of chickens . .~ Baskets of fruit . A wagon . Beer, cases and kegs ) . Ice . Baled hay . Crat ed machinery . ·Trunks . Household goods . Kegs of' nails . A coff'in, tenanted) . W11eat sacks . Drain- pi pe ; Horse and buggy . Barbed wire . Barrel of sauerkraut . Bird- food . Bag of cocoanuts . Crates of lemons . lrince- meat . Dry gin. Baby carriage . Chill tonic . Bologna sausage . Pretzels. Enameline . Peruna . Bundles of brooms . Rolls of leather . Candy . Barrels of whiskey . Kegs of paint . Matches . Almanacs . cartridges . Quarters of beef in burlaps . Carload of giant-powder . STEAl.!BOATS- Loading . Bustle on the wharf-boat . Clerk checking off and calling out destinations: "Rush Tower . 11 Mate : 11Rush Tower! 11 Come here nigger, where are Y' at? stow that barrel aft o' the coal-box . Where d 'ye want that meat at? Come back here you soldiering son-of-a-gun- come back! You ' re too damned. lazy to carry a cud. ·.o" tobacco . 11 Captain, cigar in mouth, talking to ageht . Longshoremen, white and black . Loading a top-heavy package in burlaps; nigger steering truck on stage : 11 Don ' t get too rambunctious now! Get that end inboard now!'' Barrels and heavy machinery stowed around capstan . STEAMBOAT- Casting odrf' . 3d bell . Rousters clamoring f'or tickets . "And sometimes they snatch their tickets a-s the hQai; is l8oaV!l:ftS and not a bastard gets aboard . 11 Vlhistle . Roustel~s at M.woolrt!t&.hawser and capstan . 11 Say, go back there and help haul that stern- line in . 11 Captain comes aboard . Pilot at wheel . ~ Captain rings 3-3 bells , from ~deck . 11 Come out here with that long plank . 11 (Long one goes ashore, short ones aboard . ) "Get over there and ketch hold of' that line, you nigger . 11 one bow-line cast off' from cleat . Captain on hurricane deck . Tickets to more rousters ~ Captain : uHow are you fixed there, Bill? 11 :Mate : uLet go . All l .. ight,sir . Back up that guy there, boy 11 (to clear stage). ~ ( Whistle~at backs out and downstream. Points her nose upstream; swings around gracefUlly; heads downstream, and gat11ers fUll speed . STEAMBOAT - Under Way.* ~)...- - . ..... ~, ~J 1 "" , .. ~ ,..4~ .,_;ib "",.t; •• ;, ..G• ,.t.p, ... • • • .1-w ~ llW .,uJ.~,t 1/UA>',L ~ a4. Jtr ~ 1 ~ ~ -"tdt dr~. -"f,w, ~' ~ ~~ ~ !;-Jtr ~ ~ f""- ku, ~ ~ '""' ~,£ ~M- .Ai:; ~a.dl Mv'ut 1- 4< ~~ ..t:k Jt;t-1 ~ ~ ~"~ ~ w-k ~ ~ ~ STEAMBOATS - Upstream. An upstream steamer laboriously plug-plugging against the cur~ rent scarce faster than a man could walk. She was loaded to the lguards, her high superstructure bulging all over with thousands of sacks of wheat. Topheavy as she was, her hull sunk under the prodigious burden till it was scarce visible, she strained along, like a donkey under a load of hay. i ,.· STEAMBOAT -Under Way- Signals , "'11J;: Passing . Chester lL-lS-11- lS . Columbia 1L- 2S-1L . Gray Eagle 2L-3s . Tenn . River 2L-2S . Belle of Calhoun 1L- 2S . STEAMBOAT -Under Way- Soundings . Nine-and-a-half' 9 11,2 f't . Quarter-less- twain 10 1/2 II Mark twain 12 II ( 2 f'athoms). Quartel' twain 13 1/2 11 Half' t·wain 15 II Quartel'-less-tllree 16 l/2 u Mal'k three 18 IJ ( 3 u ) Qual'tel' three 19 l/2 II Half' three 21 II Quarter-less-f'our 22 l/2 II Dee:p f'our 24 11 ( 4 u ) No-o- o bottom! STEAMBOAT- Under Way- Racing. Ramming the Columbia with steel hull. "Give him hell, Bob!" • STEAMBOAT - Under Way- Accidents . Tiller ro:pe :parted . 11Parted, sir ! n One rudder totally disabled, the ot11er weak . Pi:pes leaking • snags and sawyers . STEAMBOATS - In Storm • ••• •The gale hit us and blew us before it like a cork •••• , As the sea got higher, the old girl commenced to wallow and tumble and roll in fashion that made it as much as a man's life was worth to do anything but hold on grimly up above. sometimes one paddle­wheel would be racing almost out of the water, then the other would lift, then she 'd give a yaw, and a comber catching her a resounding slap, she 'd nearly stop, as if to consider the matter, and then with a stifled indignant sort of choking grunt, she 'd clunk away again. • . (The Lady Macquarie, Cornhill J!Ag.) STEAHBOAT - Landing , Unloading . 11Haul up that guy . 11 11 Come ahead slow . 11 nHeave up that stage, there . n 11 Let go that line . u 11Hurry up , now , quiok .AHurry up there ! 11 11 Come on out of the way . u "Get in here - .m_ in here ! 11 u·where in hell are my niggers? 11 11Histe up a little . 11 11 Shove that stage forrad . 11 11 Lower . Hold it - hold it! 11 Rousters ' Whoo-hee! of relief when last parcel is dumped . PUlling out . 11 Histe up I 11 11 Backlup aft, there . Haul down forrad . Rousters : 11 Ah, heave! Ah, heave! Hi o heave! 11 "Haul. that stage up forrad . Haul in there aft . " BRICKEY'S MILL. ~ Save ~ some tall timber culled betimes for ties and staves, the hills for miles back from the river remain rough and wild as God made them, to this day. 7 '?I WATERFALL . "If~~..,,.:: ~~ ,J;;,.t.,l ~ ~ .. SWAMP, MARSH. POND . LAKE . OCEAN- Breakers, Surf . (See also STORM on the Coast.) TEMPEST. • • • 1"rhere arose from the midst of tl1e night, in front of them, the voice of breakers. Each sprang to his feet and stared and listened. The sound was continuous; like the ~assing of a train; no rise or fall could be distinguished ; minute by minute the ocean heaved with an equal potency against the invisible isle; and as time passed, and Herrick waited in vain for ahy vicissitude in the voltune· of that roaJ.~ing, a sense of the eternal weighed upon his mind." (stevenson, Ebb Tide, p.l09.) .•• "On a clear, westerly blowing day, I have counted, from the top of AJ."os, the great rollers breaking white and heavy over as many as six-and-forty buried reefs , But it is nearer in shore that the danger is worst ; for the tide, here running lil>.e a mill race, makes a long belt of broken water- a Roost we call i .t - at the tail of. the land. I have often been out' there in· a dead ca1m at the slack of the tide; and a strange place .it is·, wi t11 t11e sea swirling and combing up and boiling like the cauldrons of a linn, and now and again a little dancing mutter of sound as though the Roost were talking to itself. But. when the tide begins to run again, and above all in heavy weatl1er, there is no man could take a boat within half a mile of it, nor a ship afloat that could either steer or live in such a place . You can hear the roaring of it six miles away . At the seaward end there comes the strongest of the bubble; and it's 11ere that these big breakers dance together­the dance of death, it may be called- that have got the name, in tl1ese parts or tl1e Merry Men . I have heard it said that they run fifty :feet high; but that must be the green vrater only, for the spray runs twice as high as that. 11 (stevenson, Merry rren ,pp.'1-8.) "It was near the top of the flood, and tbe Merry Men were roaring in the windless quiet of the night. Never , not even in the height of the tempest, have I heard their song with greater awe. Now , when the winds were gat11ered home, when the deep was dandling itself back into ~ its summer slumber, and when the stars rained their gentle light over land and sea, the voice of these tide­brea!: ers v1as still raised for havoc. They seemed, indeed, to be a part of the world's evil and t11e tragic side or life. 1' • (same, p. 73.) "I turned me towards the sea; the surf was running gaily, wave after wave , wi t11 their manes blowing behind them, riding one after another up the beach, towering, curving, falling one upon another on the trampled sand. Without, the salt air, the scared gulls, the widespread army or the sea-chargers, neighing to each other, as they gathered together to the assault of A:•os; and close before us, that line on the flat sands that, with all their number and theil" fUry, they might never pass. u (same, pp. 61-62.) I have heard the Roost roaring like a battle where it runs by Aros, and the great and fearful voices of the breakers that we call the Merry Men. (Same.) When the se~ is up, Heaven help the man that hears that cauldron boiling. (Same.) {Over.) OCEAN - Monotony and Desolation.- Horror. Hamerton, Landscape, 404, 405, 407, 408. Days of deadly dulness, when the sea was an unpoetical as an eternity of cold suds and bluing. (Stoddard. South Sea Idyls. 2.) Rugged isles and reefs most perilous to seamen. (Same.) The great rollers breaking white and h~avy over as many as six-and-forty buried reefs. (Same.) The sea swirling and combing up and boiling like the cauldrons of a linn, and now and again a little dancing mutter of sound as though the Roost were talking to itself. (Same.) The boiling breakers of" the ' Roost. {Same:) The breakers flying high over a deep sea reef. (Same ·.) The surf was running gaily, wave after wave, with their manes blowing behind them, riding one after another up the beach, towering, curving, falling one upon another on the trampled sand. . . • The widespread army of the sea chargers ne1ghing to each other. (Same.} The breaching of the seas. (Same·) • 77 SAILING. "But the good yacht streak held on her course bravely, quivering in the JOY of her new-spread wings. For what hulk is so dull and pitifully modern as not to feel how much gladder a thing it is to bound along with straining shrouds and singing sails and lifting keel to the fierce music of the wind than to ~e ever conscious of a burning sullenly-thudding power, put in her bosom by the unartis­tic beast,man, to make her grind her breathless way whither he would, and whither she w~l!ld not? Not the meanest mud-scow or harbour tug but would ral~er have a little mast and a bit of canvas in the fresh salt breeze than all the hundreds of land-born horse­powers and fire-driven cranks and rods that a haste-loving genera­tion can cram into the belly of the poor craft. How much more, then, nn1st the beautiful clean-built Streak have reJoiced on that ni~ht when she felt the throbbing, gnashing pain of the engines stop suddenly in her breast, and was allowed to s ~ read her beautiful wings out to be kissed and caressed all over by her old lover, the north-east wind? And the grand crested waves came creeping up, curling over their dark heads till they bristled with phosphorescent foam; and some of them broke angrily upward, jealous that the wind alone might touch those gleaming sails. But the wind roared at them in his wrath and drove them away, so that they sank back, afraid to fight with bim.;. and he took the ship in his strong arms, and bore her fast and far that night, through many a heaving billow, and past many a breaking crest-- far over the untrodden paths, where foot­steps are not, neither the defiling hand pf man. "But the good yacht Streak held on her course bravely; and the north-easter laughed and sang as he buffeted the waves from the path of his love." (Crawford, Doctor Claudius,l50-l.) "The brig was sheering swiftly and giddily through a long, cresting swell." St. LANDSCAPE . a AtNt.t.. ;,- ~ -. ""~ t~ ,.. ~ ~Jr:. ':!2?· ~a ~u---~~-6:!~ ~:Y--M. "These part s. 11 St. "The spirit of all that I beheld put me in thought of .•• "St.K,48. ROCK. ROUGH COUNTRY. (See also DESERT, MOOR, GLEN.} "Covered with big granite rocks .•• with fern and deep heather in between them where the vipers breed." St. "As rough as God made it to this day." St. "Aros is a very rough islet, its surface strewn with great rocks and shaggy with fern and heather." St. "The ruggedest scramble I ever undertook." St. "It was still the roughest kind of walking ••• nothing but a jumble of granite rocks with heather in between." St. "It was all desolate and rocky." St. "We began to make our toilsome and devious travel." St. "By day, we lay and ~lept in the drenching heatheri by night, incessantly clambered upon break-neck hills and among rude crags." (See the rest.) St.Kid.,240. Fresh brown mold. LOWLAND. PRAIRIE. PLAIN . p.... -*4f- 'I-)..,...(, .£,.,...A. Plains of Colorado. (Dilke in Hamerton, Landscape,55 . ) Dusty, treeless plains of Spain . (Hamerton, Landscape,144 . ) I · , . MOOR. a ~ 1- ~ ..L.J.., ---~ ~ ..;.~tv ..(....#-, ~ J.-:;:t;;Jv, ,._._1.. ~ ~~ ,... ~ ...::..~ ~- Desolate and dreary. Described by Maooullooh. (Hamerton,L.,l38.) Dreary moorlands and sterile hills. (Hamerton,Landsoape,l88-9.) ~.rt,,J;:- ,._;._ -ttrU.t- a I>~ ~ ,...J~ ..q{td--: c~., ..?4~.) ''-1l11!J ~w~-(~~ }r-L ~~-r~ .;tt·· ~ ;.ti:: _i j,,h--1 ~I~ ~ ,6.t.. ._r.P. . 1 ~ ~ ~ ...-(-~ +~- Jit;A ~ • .._, ,... A. ~v- tF; ~ --(TV" J~ ~ t-. 1- ~- 1- ~·~· ~- ;W./.y ~ ':" (~· tw;;::;... .q. ttA.. ,..,t:;;c.-) II 0,. ~.-...x- .,..... di; :: ~.. • ~ .. ~ ~-(J. ~ ,. ,.. ""'"""'' ..... .cUA > rrr- "' ~ • • • ~ • l• U-0 • - ,>. ,......., ~ ·-~ r..t~.{..y/._ .fl ~ "'t tt;:z .,.,.e-.- 1(:;-._ _.6./ ~rl<-_j 4 1f.x ~,:_;i: I ,.......L ,.._w ""' ......... t-1 ~ ......-. ~ ~ ....t- ~ ~ ~. ~. ~ ~-"' .:fr. "~ ~.,..:....., ·...~;~- 7t:. .,..;.......l.. .,..,.... :do:" ~...,I.. - ~ .:.?-- ~., ..... ""* ~ ..t.W... 1- ~ ~. ~,...,....... -{__,., t:;-..{.. lt;t ~ ,....,.";':J~ ...... ~.;.....tl. 1: -~4. .,.Z(,L ~ -:f ~ ...,.t.:;.,)... M.o- ~ -i'* ~ ~ 4~ ....... ..kwt-..;;... ~ ~ 'f -1~ ~ .(.4..,..;:w;; - '' ~· •• .. J.;,"!J-..1:. ~ ........A~;;;.....;);;:-~.,.~.· --~~ t;-~1<. twC"~ .;);L ~i,-, .• Jk~ .... ~iW->~t>~~-1-~---~- ~ ~ ~ t.o;;;t; ,..,. .i.-..J.., 1k; ~'±. e::;;if-1-;·-:,- -~ ':!!:- k-4 -..,...j. /1. ~~-= . _;_~_ ~ ~ lt. ~ ~~= f""" ,_..,,. I.,_....,.., -~ ~ £~,..,... ......-, :.Jr~?'- .t..J..-(..u.....• ~~--... ;JZ~- ~ .. .. 11 Low~ broken, desert land. Bald~ naked, flat place." St. "The mist rose and died away, and showed us that country lying waste as the sea."(Description follows.) St.Kid.,213 • ~. 0,_.. ..[~ ,.,....., 7....... .:At:: .t.. . ..u.- ~ ()."":1 ··~~f.i...._+.:J.. 1 )-.~ tM.d: ~ .,;.,tJ.:;.,~ .,.. ~ ~- ,4.1J. 4u- ,.k,Q ,lv,c.?-t~ . .' =-- DESERT. a~'rti'¢JA..~ 8r~ ~~~- ~~~~.~~.AA--1~- ~­• Round the decay Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare The lone and level sands stretch far away." (Shelley, Ozymandias.) Drear monotony of the wilderness of Judaea. Desolate grandeur. Bleak~ dreary,and barren. The vast void. Fromentin • s description Atcw his Life by Gonse. "Though, upon its face, that country appeared to be a desert, yet there were huts and houses of the people ..• hidden in quiet places of the hills." St. Kid., 189. THE DE.SERT • "• A disgusting place, • the reart.er will think of' the desert; 1rtry, burnt up, unwaterect., 1r10nstrous, without interest, dead .• What should take a man to sueh a country?' I will tell him. The gypsy cru~p on an English heath, the caMp fire, the kettle, and tl1e tent, speak. a language we all understand.. Un­comfortable-- impossible, as it nay be-- your ~irst glance was a glance of envy. What sight in chilc~ood fascinates one nore than these wandering roadside bivouacs? What game is more ex­citing than 'playing at eypsies 1?I remember how we smug little scions of' civilisation used to stare at the tan-faced, hare­footert. gyl)sy children, with a hanfi.kerchief tierl. over 1.heir head instead or hat. Witl1 some such :feelings birds in cage stare at birds on the wing. But it is uphill work playing at gypsies in a country li!:e England, where every :field anfi. wood and hedgerow bears the marks or centuries of' careful discipline an(l control ..• When I went out,with my thoup:hts f'ull or thf'l <'lf'lsert , and walkect ar10ng the slf'lek an:i. gentle f'ielrts, I coulcl not but f'eel a something too willingly subnissive, and, as it vere, spaniel­like in such a scene. AMong the Many things Naturf'l eives US in Englanct, there is one thing she cannot give- sympathy with the old primitive or­iginal instinct of enancipation. She is on the side of' the powers that be, the side of authority ann. routine anrt. tra<tition. •subl'lit yourself', she says. •r submit myself', ann see :hm'T I thri ''e. 1 Hers is a tranquilizing inf'l uenee , not a brae ing one. Under her tuition the Mind is attunen to a kind of' servitude. So that here, where the stif'ling influence of custon is so strong, and its 1•uts ~ut so neep, is just where there is no escape :from it. You fly to Nature, but all that her nocile f'ielris ann. obert.ient rivers and inviolable parkA! palings can rlo f'or you is to sweeten ann. hal1ow custom, and reconcile you to it, ann strengthen ann. conf'irm its hold upon you. The rl.esert is of' another order of' sot~l1E?l'Y, anrt 1'1ade of' sterner stuff. It is as ugly as hell, to be sure. . It has none of the English motherly -roncl.ness ann. gentleness about it. It hates you like poison, and vrill kill you i:f it can. But it is a land.scapP. that has never bent its nP-ck to the yoke of man, aNi its barron reef's ancl unploughed sand.s have the old, primitive, savage vieour about them still. This is its potent attraction. we are rebels, all of' us, but the on.ds are against us. We li\'e the sm'le cl.ay over and over again. Me rtake our moves in a trance. We talk of' leartinR our li\'es, but o'll:D lives J.~a<i us. we are like quaint f'igures oil in a piece o:f ta!.1es try, a...!rt c'laily routine is thf'l busy little needle and thread that assicluously stitches us in. we belong to a ~ perl.•O Au~ • . .• In the rtesert f'or the f'irst tine you have Nature with you in the olrl struggle for fmancipation . The mind here can recol-lect and r~new itself. It coMes out f'ron these solitudes not I>Ari:aps, with any e:reat store of' f'acts, but invigoratect, m;<t, ' as 1. t 7ere, retem1)ered . The senses whet thm·1se1 ''AS on the crags and reefs. A new vitality ann taring is infused into you. You step out of your ta.Df'stry f'or a noment, and. stretch your legs anrt look aoc'tlt you." (PhilliPI)S,L.Harr;n. In the De" se. r t . J, on~,.;~) ., Ar nol~" , 1905. ) THE DHJf;ERT. "My nind became :filled ri th sa(t ann solerm thoughts as MY eyes :f~ll again upon the steppe where our tent stoo<t that unhalJ.o•red nay, 1hile away to the south stretche<t the murrt.erous desert •ocean' in 1~hich r'!y caravan perished. There be:fore me lay, peaceful anri tran­QUil, thG copious lake 1 Thich ~O\lld have preserved. the 1 ives o:f both men and car:1e1s, han we only posse8sert. su:f:ficient foresight to carry ~ith us a su:fficient supply of the ~ater hich it wasted by evapor­ation upon the ctesert air to no man's pro:fit. The tovv~?rine; crests o:f the sanct-dunes were no bathed in JlUrple an~ red, and glo red like burning volcanoes in the setting sun. They were giant graves covering the dead. And as my thoup;hts r>enetrated the rlreact ilrterness of sand, :vhere I kne 1 thai my servants and camels la~r sleeping their 1 ast long sleep, my heart as op.f)ressed with uneasiness. Could they rorgive ne-- me, one out o:f the only three creatures which escaped. alive out o:f that fiery Gehenna-- could they forgive me us I stood thus,surrounded by every comfort, and gaze<t out towa~~s the spot rhere their torturert. spirits ere rlissoci­a ted f'ro11 their suf'f'ering bodies? Did brave olct Hohammed Shah, as he no·v '~ooled his parched throat under the paln-trees of the heavenly Bihesht-- nid. he perchance urge his accusation against me? For it ;<Jas indeert I, I · ho as responsible f'or that terl'ible journey through th~ nost d.ea~ly and. most accursed region on the :face of all the earth. I :fancie I coulrt hear the murnur of' a rteath-song stealing upon my ear :from t e heart o:f the desert, and expectec'l every noment to see the Sl>e ,~tres of' the poor canels w:hieh J)Arishert in such unspeak­able ar;ony st11a1inr, :forth f'rom behinn the sanrl-dunes, in search o:r him who r.lislearl then and ct.eceiverl then, :rorning upon t em that r.1ad and rtesperate, that agonising, that utterly hopeless, struggle with rleath. _[ remembereti as well as if it ·ere only yAsterrlay, how the big tears rtropped ~ror.1 their istfUl eyes, and ere ockingly gulped up by the burn inc; sanri. 11 (Hedin, sven, Central Asia and Tibet. I,J30-13l.) "For my part, I woulci rather cross the Uesert of times than travAl through Tibet once ar,ain in winter. i ble to ~orm any conception of' ;vha t it is 1 il~e: it is via (iolorosa!" (Same, II,55*~ Gobi a _o:;:en It is impose a veritable (Lake of Asphalt:) "Those coasts strewn thick with ashes of damnation, Forever foe to every living thing, That on the shore of the perfidious sea Athirsting dies,-- that watery sepulchre Of the five cities of iniquity. 11 •• Aleardi. 11A place so desert-like and lonesome •.• So empty a scene. 11 St 11The whole place seemed solemn and uncouth. 11 St. CULTIVATED FIELDS . A~ ~... l~~ - e;;tv.~t ;M ~1iiA ~~Lt-of.'. ~...(. tJ ~./' ~ ·t:JM I ~I ~~- A.1J. "Comfortable, green, cultivated hills." St. "The country was pleasant round about, running in low hills, pleasantly watered and wooded, and the crops, to my eyes, wonderfully good." "The more I looked, the pleasanter that country-side appeared; being all set with hawthorn bushes full of flowers; the fields dotted with sheep; a fine flight of rooks in the sky; and every sign of a kind soil and climate." St. GORGE. tJL~~~~ .. ~- s.11. /( r.;?.. ~ ~ ~) ~ ~ a.tn.A-~ 1 ~ ttt;; ~ d'Jf- MI<I"-.:J ?K-(I~t#- ~~ ~~ -;;-·-;,~ Jt;z ...-k..U.a.. ~~4-"" 4 ~~-P}-~, ~ ..-... ~ ~ ~~{.; ~~ [f!!d-~~~ ~~1 RAVINE, GULCH. CoUlaes.(Lewis a Clark, 299, 302, notes.) a~,~r!!Y· 30 :u HOLLOW. GLEN. ?L ..fl,.,w- ~ ~ iM-ol::-~~ ..e., ~ ,.,. ~. _4,1), Co~~ie. A hollow in a mountain, with all the appearance of an ordinary valley or dell, save that it is enclosed on all sides but the drainage ou~let. May contain a tarn. (Hamerton, ~andscape,l86.) cL~J...~. "A cleft in the head of a great mountain, with a water running through the midst, and upon the one hand a shallow cave in a rock." St .Kid., 201. "Through a labyrinth of dreary glens and hollows and into the heart of that dismal mountain of Ben Alder." St.Kid.,222. ~(?Ilk:). a. ./1~ ,;.. - ,_,.~; .... ..,.........._ ~~ ~ ~; ~. ~- 12~ - .a....~. VALLEY. ' CAVERN . }): ~--.1.. ~~-. "Echoes following you about the labyrinth." St. ~· a.~~~,L~~~~. s~ caJJ.;. HIGHLAUD . PLATEAU. HILL. (I rf!t ~~ ~a., lb:i-r ~ _,..~te~ .. ~ 4--~.N ~~, J{.,j3J'-) (At night:) "The shapes of the hills like things asleep." St. MOUNTAIN. Back-bone=(livi(le. Ribs= riclr;es which flank the mt. Water-parting. The crest of the water-parting. Flanks= sicles of r·1t. Rugged and. precipitous spurs. Topmost peak. Pass= gap; a passable defile. Ruined battlements. Furrowed by wincting e;ore;es. Cone. Pyraoid. Boss. -37-'lr Escarpment =Steep slope. Abrupt ctoclivity. Precipitous face of' ridge. Snout of' the glacier. Giant cliff's and crags. Chimnies. A gentJe grartient. MOUNTAIN. Knoll of the