Part 51
“Minutes of almost eternal length roll on, and there are hundreds standing in that rocky channel, and hundreds on the bridge above, all holding their breath, and awaiting the fearful catastrophe. The poor boy hears the hum of new and numerous voices both above and below. He can just distinguish the tones of his father, who is shouting with all the energy of despair, ‘_William! William! Don’t look down! Your mother, and Henry, and Harriet are all here, praying for you! Don’t look down! Keep your eye toward the top!_’ The boy didn’t look _down_. His eye is fixed like a flint toward heaven, and his young heart on Him who reigns there. He grasps again his knife. He cuts another niche, and another foot is added to the hundreds that remove him from the reach of human help from below. How carefully he uses his wasting blade! How anxiously he selects the softest places in that vast pier! How he avoids every flinty grain! How he economizes his physical powers! resting a moment at each gain he cuts. How every motion is watched from below! There stand his father, mother, brother, sister, on the very spot where, if he falls, he will not fall alone. The sun is now half-way down the west. The lad has made fifty additional niches in that mighty wall, and now finds himself directly under the middle of that vast arch of rocks, earth and trees. He must cut his way in a new direction, to get from under this overhanging mountain. The inspiration of hope is dying in his bosom; its vital heat is fed by the increasing shouts of hundreds perched upon cliffs and trees, and others who stand with ropes in their hands on the bridge above, or with ladders below. Fifty gains more must be cut before the longest rope can reach him. His wasting blade strikes again into the limestone. The boy is emerging painfully, foot by foot, from under that lofty arch. Spliced ropes are ready in the hands of those who are leaning over the outer edge of the bridge. Two minutes more, and all will be over. That blade is worn to the last half-inch. The boy’s head reels; his eyes are starting from their sockets. His last hope is dying in his heart; his life must hang upon the next gain he cuts. That niche is his last. At the last faint gash he makes, his knife, his faithful knife, falls from his little nerveless hand, and, ringing along the precipice, falls at his mother’s feet. An involuntary groan of despair runs like a death-knell through the channel below, and all is still as the grave. At the hight of nearly three hundred feet, the devoted boy lifts his hopeless heart and closing eyes to commend his soul to God. ’Tis but a moment—there!—one foot swings off!—he is reeling—trembling—toppling over into eternity! Hark! a shout falls on his ear from above! The man who is lying with half his length over the bridge, has caught a glimpse of the boy’s head and shoulders. Quick as thought, the noosed rope is within reach of the sinking youth. No one breathes. With a faint, convulsive effort, the swooning boy drops his arms into the noose. Darkness comes over him, and with the words, _God!_ and _Mother!_ whispered on his lips just loud enough to be heard in heaven, the tightening rope lifts him out of his last shallow niche. Not a lip moves while he is dangling over that fearful abyss; but when a sturdy Virginian reaches down and draws up the lad, and holds him up in his arms before the tearful, breathless multitude, such shouting and leaping and weeping for joy, never greeted the ear of a human being so recovered from the yawning gulf of eternity.”
We will only add before leaving the subject of natural bridges, that the one in Virginia is not, as has been generally supposed, the only geological wonder of the kind in the United States. In Carter county, Kentucky, there is a natural bridge across the Rockbridge branch of the Cany fork of Little Sandy. It has a span of one hundred and ninety-five feet, and is twelve feet wide, twenty feet thick in the middle of the arch, and one hundred and seven feet above the water. In the county of Walker, in Alabama, there is another similar natural curiosity, which was discovered in a recent geological exploration. The span is one hundred and twenty feet, and the hight nearly seventy feet. This bridge is formed of sandstone, and is very symmetrical. Large beech and hemlock trees grow on the bridge, and the surrounding scenery is represented as sublime.
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PRECIPICES AND PROMONTORIES.
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BESSELY GHAUT.
The precipitous pathways which frequently occur in the Indian Apennines, a chain of mountains extending along the western or Malabar coasts of the peninsula, are called ghauts; and of these abrupt and perpendicular precipices, Bessely ghaut is considered as the most romantic. It is admirably described in the travels of Lord Valentia, from which the following particulars are extracted.
On entering the defiles of the chain of mountains by which the table-land of Mysore is separated from the low country of Canara and Malabar, the scenery becomes extremely wild and romantic. Having reached Purneah Chuttoor, situated on the summit of this celebrated ghaut, his lordship began his descent at three in the morning, by a road formed with great labor out of a bed of loose rock, over which the torrents of the preceding winter had run with such force, as to wash away all the softer parts, and in several places to leave single rocks, of four or five feet diameter, standing in the center of the road, and not more than two feet asunder. He alighted from his palanquin to admire the sublimity of the scene, and entered a forest of the largest oriental trees, several of which were one hundred feet in the stem before a single branch extended itself; notwithstanding which, the descent was so steep, that he was frequently on a level with their tops, at so small a distance as to be able to distinguish them, by the gleam of the numerous torches by which his party was accompanied, but which were insufficient to enlighten the impenetrable canopy of foliage which for miles concealed the face of heaven, or the deep gloom of the abyss into which he appeared to descend. In the day-time the scene could not have been half so awful or magnificent. The descent was impeded by numerous droves of oxen which were ascending the ghaut. At break of day an opening, in a winding part of the road, displayed the lofty mountain the party had descended, covered with forests nearly to its summit. They passed several rivulets, which at one spot had united, and formed a small stream. The surrounding vegetation was richly variegated; and the branches of the loftiest trees covered by plants of the parasitical tribe. The inhabitants of a small village, in the center of this immense forest, were employed in thrashing their grain in a truly patriarchal manner: on a floor of hard earth the grain was trodden out by oxen, which, agreeably to the Mosaical law, were unmuzzled.
THE CAPE OF THE WINDS.
The fortress of Mankoop, in the Crimea, is of a very extraordinary magnitude, and may be described as being literally stationed on the clouds. It covers the summit of a semicircular insulated mountain, which, from its frightful aspect, its altitude, and craggy perpendicular sides, independently of every other consideration than as a surprising work of nature, fills the mind with wonder on entering the defile. In this singular situation, where there are no visible means of ascent toward the hight, and still less of conveying the necessary materials for the completion of so astonishing a work, the Genoese constructed this citadel, perhaps without a parallel in Europe, the result of their wealth, address and enterprise. Being at a remote distance from the coast, it is natural to conjecture that it was employed to curb the hostile spirit of the natives toward the maritime colonial possessions. The latest possessors of this fortress were Jews, in the cemetery of whose colony the traveler meets with ruined tombs of marble and stone, lying beneath the trees he has to pass in his ascent.
The whole of the passage up the mountain is steep and difficult; nor is it rendered more practicable by the amazing labors of its original possessors, whose dilapidated works occur almost at every step. On reaching the summit, caverns and gloomy galleries, perforated in the rock, present on every side their dark mouths. On the most elevated part of this extraordinary eminence, is a beautiful plain, covered with fine turf: it is partly fenced in by the moldering wall of the fortress, but otherwise open to the surrounding precipices. From this spot the adjacent mountains, valleys, hills, woods and villages, may be discerned. “While,” observes the traveler by whom these details are supplied, “with dismay and caution we crept on our hands and knees to look over the brink of these fearful hights, a half-clad Tartar, wild as the winds of the north, mounted without a saddle, and without any other bridle except the twisted stem of a wild vine, on a colt equally unsubdued, galloped to the very edge of the precipice, where, as his horse stood prancing on the borders of eternity, he amused himself with pointing out to us the different places in the vast district which the eye commanded. We entered one of the excavated chambers, a small square apartment, which led to another on our right hand; and, on our left, a narrow passage conducted us to an open balcony, with a parapet in front, formed of the rock, on the very face of one of the principal precipices, whence the depth below might be contemplated with less danger. The vultures which hovered over the valleys did not appear larger than swallows; and the tops of the hills, covered by tufted woods, with the villages scattered amid the rocks and defiles, appeared at so intimidating a depth, that the blood chilled at the view. At length, being conducted to the north-eastern point of the crescent, that being the shape of the summit on which the fortress of Mankoop was built, and descending a few stone steps, neatly hewn out in the rock, we entered by a square door the cavern, called by the Tartars, the Cape of the Winds. It has been chiseled, like the rest, out of the solid stone; but is open on four sides. From the amazing prospect here commanded of all the surrounding country, it probably served as a post of military observation. The apertures, or windows, are large arched chasms in the rock: through these, a most extensive range of scenery over the distant mountains and rolling clouds, forms a sublime spectacle. There is nothing in any part of Europe to surpass the tremendous grandeur of the place. Beneath the cavern is another chamber leading to the several cells on its different sides: these have all been cut out of the same rock.”
The party, in descending, pursued a route, which, if they had taken in their ascent, would, our traveler observes, have afforded them a view of the sublimest scenery imaginable. They now passed beneath an old arched gateway of the citadel, once its principal entrance. This road flanks the northern side of the mountain; and the fall into the valley is so bold and profound, that a single false step would precipitate both horse and rider headlong to it. By alighting, the danger is avoided; and the terror of the descent is compensated by the noblest scenery the eye ever beheld. It was dark before they reached the bottom; and they had some difficulty to regain the principal road which leads through the defile, owing principally to the trees which project over all the lanes in the vicinity of Tartar villages, and so effectually obstruct the passage of persons on horseback, that they are in continual danger of being thrown. The defile itself is not without danger in certain seasons of the year, immense masses of limestone detaching themselves from the rocks above, and carrying all before them in their descent. Several of these masses, detached from the northern precipices, had crossed the river at the bottom, and, by the prodigious velocity acquired in their descent, had actually rolled nearly half-way up the opposite side.
THE NORTH CAPE.
This cape forms the most northerly point of the continent of Europe, and may be regarded as one of the wonders of nature. It is situated within the arctic circle, in seventy-one degrees, ten minutes, north latitude. It has been accurately described by a voyager, from whose account the following particulars are extracted.
In approaching the cape, a little before midnight, its rocks at first appeared to be nearly of an equal hight, until they terminated in a perpendicular peak; but, on a nearer view, those within were found to be much higher than those of the extreme peak, or point. Their general appearance was highly picturesque. The sea, breaking against this immovable rampart, which had withstood its fury from the remotest ages, bellowed, and formed a thick border of white froth. This spectacle, equally beautiful and grand, was illumined by the _midnight sun_; and the shade which covered the western side of the rocks rendered their aspect still more sublime and almost terrific. The hight of these rocks could not be ascertained; but here everything was on so grand a scale, that a point of comparison could not be afforded by any ordinary known objects. On landing, the party discovered a grotto, formed of rocks, the surface of which had been washed smooth by the waves, and having within a spring of fresh water. The only accessible spot in the vicinity was a hill, some hundred paces in circumference, surrounded by enormous crags. From the summit of this hill, turning toward the sea, they perceived to the right a prodigious mountain, attached to the cape, and rearing its sterile mass to the skies. To the left, a neck of land, covered with less elevated rocks, against which the surges dashed with violence, closed the bay, and admitted but a limited view of the ocean. To see as far as possible into the interior, our navigators climbed almost to the summit of the mountain, where a most singular landscape presented itself to the view. A lake in the foreground had an elevation of at least ninety feet above the level of the sea; and on the top of an adjacent, but less lofty mountain, was another lake. The view was terminated by peaked rocks, checkered by patches of snow.
At midnight the sun still remained several degrees above the horizon, and continued to ascend higher and higher till noon, when having again descended, it passed the north, without dipping below the horizon. This phenomenon, which is as extraordinary to the inhabitants of the torrid and temperate zones, as snow is to the inhabitants of the torrid zone, could not be viewed without a particular interest. Two months of continued daylight, during which space the sun never sets, seem to place the traveler in a new state of existence; while the effect on the inhabitants of these regions is singular. During the time the sun is perpetually above the horizon, they rise at ten in the morning, dine at five or six in the evening, and go to bed at one. But, during the winter season, when, from the beginning of December until the end of January, the sun never rises, they sleep above half of the twenty-four hours, and employ the other half in sitting over the fire, all business being at an end, and a constant darkness prevailing. The cause of this phenomenon, as it affects the northern and southern regions of the earth, may be readily understood. The sun always illumines half the earth at once, and shines on every side ninety degrees from the place where he is vertical. When he is vertical over the equator, or equidistant from both poles, he shines as far as each pole; and this happens in spring and autumn. But, as he declines to the north in summer, he shines beyond the north pole, and all the countries near that pole turn round in perpetual sunshine: while at the same time, he leaves the south pole an equal number of degrees, so that those parts turn round in darkness.
PRECIPICES OF SAN ANTONIA.
The mountain of San Antonia, on the route from Guyaquil to Quito, is described by Ulloa as presenting a series of the most fearful precipices. In crossing this mountain, the declivity was in some parts so great, that the mules could not have kept their footing, had not the paths been filled with holes, upward of two feet in depth, in which the mules placed their fore and hinder feet, occasionally dragging their bellies, and the legs of the rider, along the ground. Without these holes which serve as steps, the precipice would not be practicable. Should the creature happen, however, to place his foot between two of these holes, or to falter in the slightest degree, the rider would fall, and perish inevitably. To lessen the difficulties and dangers of these craggy paths, the Indians who go before the travelers, dig small trenches across.
The descent from the hights was a task of imminent danger. Owing to the excessive steepness, the water had washed away a greater part of the holes; while, on the one side were steep eminences, and on the other, the most frightful abysses. The mules were themselves sensible of the caution requisite in descending; for, on reaching the top of an eminence, they stopped, and having placed their fore feet close together, as in a posture of stopping themselves, they also placed their hinder feet together a little forward, as if going to lie down. In this attitude, having, as it were, taken a survey of the road, they slid down with great swiftness to the bottom. All the rider had to do, was to keep himself fast in his saddle, without checking his beast; as the slightest motion would have been sufficient to destroy its equilibrium, and both would have inevitably perished. The address of the creatures was truly wonderful, for, in this rapid motion, when they seemed to have lost all government of themselves, they followed exactly the different windings of the road, as if they had previously reconnoitered, and settled in their minds the route they were to follow, and taken every precaution for their safety, amid so many irregularities. The safety of the rider depended entirely on their experience and address; but, long as they had been accustomed to travel these roads, they seemed to feel a degree of horror on reaching the top of a steep declivity. Without being checked by their rider, they stopped; and if he inadvertently endeavored to spur them on, they were immovable until they had placed themselves in a secure posture. They seemed as if they were actuated by reason; for they not only viewed the road attentively, but trembled and snorted at the danger; emotions which inspired the party with the most dreadful apprehensions. The Indians went before, and, placing themselves along the sides of the mountain, where they held by the roots of trees, animated the beasts with shouts, until they at last started down the declivity.
There were some parts where the declivities were not on the side of the precipices; but the road was so narrow and hollow, and the sides so nearly perpendicular, that the danger was almost equal. The track being extremely narrow, with scarcely a sufficient width of the road to admit the mule with its rider, if the former had fallen, the latter would necessarily have been crushed, and, for want of room to disengage himself, would have been mutilated in his limbs, if he had escaped with life. It was truly wonderful to consider with what exactness these animals, after having overcome the first emotions of their fear, and when they were going to slide down the declivity, stretched out their fore-legs, to the end that they might preserve their equilibrium. The gentle inclination they made with the body, at a proper distance, in following the several windings of the road, was also a mark of surprising sagacity; and, lastly, their address in stopping themselves at the end of the impetuous career, was truly deserving of observation. Greater prudence and conduct could not have been exhibited by man!
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GEOLOGICAL CHANGES OF THE EARTH.
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There are more things in heaven and earth Than are dreamt of in our philosophy.—SHAKSPEARE.
The variety of fossil substances, many of them marine productions, which are found in mountains remote from the sea, are undeniable proofs that the earth’s surface has undergone considerable changes, some of which indicate an alteration of climate not easily to be explained. The remains of animals inhabiting hot countries, and the marine productions of hot climates, which are frequently found in high northern latitudes, lead to a suspicion that the earth’s axis was at a very remote period differently inclined from what it is at present. The tropics now extend twenty-three degrees and a half on each side the equator; but if they were extended to forty-five degrees, then the arctic circle and the tropics would coincide, and thence would arise inconceivable variations in the productions and phenomena of the earth. All this would form an amusing speculation to a person possessed of a terrestrial globe, who might tie a thread round it to represent the tropics at forty-five degrees of elevation.
By the gradual operation of the sea and of rivers, the face of the globe has, in the course of ages, undergone very material changes. The former has encroached in particular parts, and retired from others; and the mouths of large rivers, running through low countries, have often been variously modified, by a deposition and transfer of the matter washed down from the land. At Havre, the sea undermines the steep coast; while it recedes at Dunkirk, where the shore is flat. In Holland the Zuyder Zee was probably formed, in the middle ages, by continual irruptions of the sea, where only the small lake Flevo had before existed. The mouths of the Rhine have been considerably altered, as well in their dimensions as in their directions. The mud, as it is deposited by large rivers, generally causes a _delta_, or a triangular piece of land, to grow out into the sea. Thus the mouth of the Mississippi is said to have advanced above fifty miles since the discovery of America. The island called Sandy Hook, at the entrance of the harbor of New York, was formerly a peninsula attached to the main land. The old citizens of New Haven, Connecticut, point out places where once boats, and even small vessels, used to anchor, but which are now at quite a distance from the water and covered with the dwellings of the inhabitants. Most of the large rivers of the United States are more or less changing their banks, and the places of their channels, from year to year. The sea, within the space of forty years, has retired more than a mile from Rosetta, in Egypt; and the mouths of the Arno, and of the Rhone, consist in a great measure of new land.