第 43 节
作者:嘟嘟      更新:2021-02-20 05:57      字数:9322
  means of sending word to its brothers and sisters in the Pyrenees how it
  was getting on。
  What do you mean?         Are you making fun of me?
  Not   the   least。 I   am   only   telling   you   a   very   strange   story;   which   is
  literally true。    Come; and sit down on this bench。             You can't catch that
  great butterfly; he is too strong on the wing for you。
  But oh; what a beautiful one!
  Yes; orange and black; silver and green; a glorious creature。              But you
  may see him at home sometimes:             that plant close to you; you cannot see
  at home。
  Why; it is only great spurge; such as grows in the woods at home。
  No。     It   is  Irish   spurge    which     grows    here;   and    sometimes     in
  Devonshire; and then again in the west of Europe; down to the Pyrenees。
  Don't touch it。      Our wood spurge is poisonous enough; but this is worse
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  still; if you get a drop of its milk on your lip or eye; you will be in agonies
  for   half   a   day。 That   is   the   evil   plant   with   which   the   poachers   kill   the
  salmon。
  How do they do that?
  When the salmon are spawning up in the little brooks; and the water is
  low; they take that spurge; and grind it between two stones under water;
  and let the milk run down into the pool; and at that all the poor salmon
  turn up dead。       Then comes the water… bailiff; and catches the poachers。
  Then comes the policeman; with his sword at his side and his truncheon
  under   his   arm:    and   then   comes   a   〃cheap   journey〃   to   Tralee   Gaol;   in
  which those foolish poachers sit and reconsider themselves; and determine
  not to break the salmon lawsat least till next time。
  But why is it that this spurge; and St。 Patrick's cabbage; grow only here
  in the west?      If they got here of themselves; where did they come from?
  All outside there is sea; and they could not float over that。
  Come; I say; and sit down on this bench; and I will tell you a tale;the
  story of the Old Atlantis; the sunken land in the far West。              Old Plato; the
  Greek; told legends of it; which you will read some day; and now it seems
  as if those old legends had some truth in them; after all。            We are standing
  now on one of the last remaining scraps of the old Atlantic land。                   Look
  down the bay。       Do you see far away; under; the mountains; little islands;
  long and low?
  Oh; yes。
  Some of these are old slate; like the mountains; others are limestone;
  bits of the old coral…reef to the west of Ireland which became dry land。
  I know。     You told me about it。
  Then that land; which is all eaten up by the waves now; once joined
  Ireland to Cornwall; and to Spain; and to the Azores; and I suspect to the
  Cape   of   Good   Hope;   and   what   is   stranger;   to   Labrador;   on   the   coast   of
  North America。
  Oh!    How can you know that?
  Listen; and I will give you your first lesson in what I call Bio… geology。
  What a long word!
  If you can find a shorter one I shall be very much obliged to you; for I
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  hate    long    words。    But     what    it  means    is;Telling   how    the   land   has
  changed   in   shape;   by   the   plants   and   animals   upon   it。   And   if   you   ever
  read (as you will) Mr。 Wallace's new book on the Indian Archipelago; you
  will see what wonderful discoveries men may make about such questions
  if   they  will   but   use   their   common   sense。   You   know   the   common   pink
  heatherling; as we call it?
  Of course。
  Then   that   ling   grows;   not   only   here   and   in   the   north   and   west   of
  Europe;   but   in   the  Azores   too;   and;   what   is   more   strange;   in   Labrador。
  Now;  as   ling   can   neither swim  nor   fly;  does not   common   sense tell   you
  that all those countries were probably joined together in old times?
  Well:     but it seems so strange。
  So   it   is;   my   child;   and   so   is   everything。 But;   as   the   fool   says   in
  Shakespeare …
  〃A long time ago the world began; With heigh ho; the wind and the
  rain。〃
  And the wind and the rain have made strange work with the poor old
  world ever since。        And that is about all that we; who are not very much
  wiser than Shakespeare's fool; can say about the matter。                   But againthe
  London Pride grows here; and so does another saxifrage very like it; which
  we call Saxifraga Geum。            Now; when I saw those two plants growing in
  the    Western    Pyrenees;     between     France    and   Spain;    and   with   them    the
  beautiful   blue   butterwort;   which   grows   in   these   Kerry   bogswe   will   go
  and find somewhat could I say but that Spain and Ireland must have been
  joined once?
  I suppose it must be so。
  Again。     There is a little pink butterwort here in the bogs; which grows;
  too; in dear old Devonshire and Cornwall; and also in the south…west of
  Scotland。      Now; when I found that too; in the bogs near Biarritz; close to
  the Pyrenees; and knew that it stretched away along the Spanish coast; and
  into   Portugal;   what   could   my   common   sense   lead   me   to   say   but   that
  Scotland;   and   Ireland;   and   Cornwall;   and   Spain   were   all   joined   once?
  Those   are   only  a   few   examples。      I   could   give   you   a   dozen   more。  For
  instance; on an island away there to the west; and only in one spot; there
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  grows a little sort of lily; which is found I believe in Brittany; and on the
  Spanish and Portuguese heaths; and even in North…west Africa。 And that
  Africa     and   Spain   were    joined   not   so  very   long   ago   at  the  Straits   of
  Gibraltar there is no doubt at all。
  But where did the Mediterranean Sea run out then?
  Perhaps   it   did   not   run   out   at   all;   but   was   a   salt…water   lake;   like   the
  Caspian; or the Dead Sea。          Perhaps it ran out over what is now the Sahara;
  the great desert of sand; for; that was a sea…bottom not long ago。
  But   then;  how   was   this   land   of Atlantis   joined   to   the   Cape   of   Good
  Hope?
  I cannot say how; or when either。           But this is plain:      the place in the
  world where the most beautiful heaths grow is the Cape of Good Hope?
  You   know   I   showed   you   Cape   heaths   once   at   the   nursery   gardener's   at
  home。
  Oh yes; pink; and yellow; and white; so much larger than ours。
  Then it seems (I only say it seems) as if there must have been some
  land once to the westward; from which the different sorts of heath spread
  south…eastward   to   the   Cape;   and   north…eastward   into   Europe。        And   that
  they   came   north…eastward   into   Europe   seems   certain;   for   there   are   no
  heaths in America or Asia。
  But how north…eastward?
  Think。     Stand     with   your   face   to  the  south   and   think。    If  a  thing
  comes   from   the   south…westfrom   there;   it   must   go   to   the   north…   east…
  towards there。       Must it not?
  Oh yes; I see。
  Now   thenThe   farther   you   go   south…west;   towards   Spain;   the   more
  kinds   of   heath   there   are;   and   the   handsomer;   as   if   their   original   home;
  from which they started; was somewhere down there。
  More sorts!      What sorts?
  How many sorts of heath have we at home?
  Three; of course:       ling; and purple heath; and bottle heath。
  And there are no more in all England; or Wales; or Scotland; except
  Now;   listen。    In   the   very   farthest   end   of   Cornwall   there   are   two   more
  sorts; the Cornish heath and the Orange…bell; and they say (though I never
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  saw it) that the Orange…bell grows near Bournemouth。
  Well。    That is south and west too。
  So it is:    but that makes five heaths。         Now in the south and west of
  Ireland all these five heaths grow; and two more:                the great Irish heath;
  with purple bells; and the Mediterranean heath; which flowers in spring。
  Oh; I know them。        They grow in the Rhododendron beds at home。
  Of course。      Now again。       If you went down to Spain; you would find
  all those seven h