第 50 节
作者:嘟嘟      更新:2021-02-20 05:57      字数:9322
  sloping   eastward;   the   way   we   are   going;   and   each   new   rock   or   soil   we
  come to lies on the top of the one before it。            Now we shall run down hill
  for many  a   mile;  down the   back of   the oolites;  past pretty  Chippenham;
  and Wootton…Bassett; towards Swindon spire。                Look at the country; child;
  and thank God for this fair English land; in which your lot is cast。
  What   beautiful   green   fields;   and   such   huge   elm   trees;   and   orchards;
  and flowers in the cottage gardens!
  Ay; and what crops; too:        what wheat and beans; turnips and mangold。
  All this land is very rich and easily worked; and hereabouts is some of the
  best   farming   in   England。      The   Agricultural   College   at   Cirencester;   of
  which you have so often heard; lies thereaway; a few miles to our left; and
  there lads go to learn to farm as no men in the world; save English and
  Scotch; know how to farm。
  But what rock are we on now?
  On   rock   that   is   much   softer   than that   on the   other  side   of the  oolite
  hills:   much      softer;  because    it  is  much   newer。     We    have    got  off  the
  oolites on to what is called the Oxford clay; and then; I believe; on to the
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  Coral rag; and on that again lies what we are coming to now。                 Do you see
  the red sand in that field?
  Then that is the lowest layer of a fresh world; so to speak; a world still
  younger than the oolitesthe chalk world。
  But that is not chalk; or anything like it。
  No; that is what is called Greensand。
  But it is not green; it is red。
  I know:     but years ago it got the name from one green vein in it; in
  which the 〃Coprolites;〃 as you learnt to call them at Cambridge; are found;
  and   that;   and   a   little   layer   of   blue   clay;   called   gault;   between   the   upper
  Greensand and lower Greensand; runs along everywhere at the foot of the
  chalk hills。
  I see the hills now。     Are they chalk?
  Yes; chalk they are:       so we may begin to feel near home now。                See
  how   they   range   away   to   the   south   toward   Devizes;   and   Westbury;   and
  Warminster; a goodly land and large。             At their feet; everywhere; run the
  rich pastures on which the Wiltshire cheese is made; and here and there; as
  at   Westbury;    there   is  good   iron…ore    in  the  greensand;     which    is  being
  smelted now; as it used to be in the Weald of Surrey and Kent ages since。
  I must tell you about that some other time。
  But are there Coprolites here?
  I believe there are:      I know there are some at Swindon; and I do not
  see why they should not be found; here and there; all the way along the
  foot of the downs; from here to Cambridge。
  But do these downs go to Cambridge?
  Of course they do。        We are now in the great valley which runs right
  across     England     from    south…west      to  north…east;    from    Axminster       in
  Devonshire to Hunstanton in Norfolk; with the chalk always on your right
  hand; and the oolite hills on your left; till it ends by sinking into the sea;
  among the fens of Lincolnshire and Norfolk。
  But what made that great valley?
  I am not learned enough to tell。          Only this I think we can say that
  once on a time these chalk downs on our right reached high over our heads
  here; and far to the north; and that Madam How pared them away; whether
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  by icebergs; or by sea…waves; or merely by rain; I cannot tell。
  Well; those downs do look very like sea…cliffs。
  So they do; very like an old shore…line。             Be that as it may; after the
  chalk was eaten away; Madam How began digging into the soils below the
  chalk; on which we are now; and because they were mostly soft clays; she
  cut them out very easily; till she came down; or nearly down; to the harder
  freestone rocks which run along on our left hand; miles away; and so she
  scooped out this great vale; which we call here the Vale of White Horse;
  and   further   on;   the   Vale   of Aylesbury;   and   then   the   Bedford   Level;   and
  then the dear ugly old Fens。
  Is this the Vale of White Horse?          Oh; I know about it; I have read The
  Scouring of the White Horse。
  Of   course   you   have;   and   when   you   are   older   you   will   read   a   jollier
  book     still;Tom    Brown's      School    Daysand      when     we    have    passed
  Swindon; we shall see some of the very places described in it; close on our
  right。
  * * *
  There is the White Horse Hill。
  The White Horse Hill?           But where is the horse?          I can see a bit of
  him:     but   he   does   not   look   like   a   horse   from   here;   or   indeed   from   any
  other place; he is a very old horse indeed; and a thousand years of wind
  and rain have spoilt his anatomy a good deal on the top of that wild down。
  And is that really where Alfred fought the Danes?
  As certainly; boy; I believe; as that Waterloo is where the Duke fought
  Napoleon。       Yes:    you may well stare at it with all your eyes; the noble
  down。      It is one of the most sacred spots on English soil。
  Ah; it is gone now。       The train runs so fast。
  So it does; too fast to let you look long at one thing:             but in return; it
  lets   you   see   so   many   more   things   in   a   given   time   than   the   slow   old
  coaches and posters did。Well? what is it?
  I wanted to ask you a question; but you won't listen to me。
  Won't I?     I suppose I was dreaming with my eyes open。                  You see; I
  have   been   so   often   along   this   lineand   through   this   country;   too;   long
  before the line was madethat I cannot pass it without its seeming full of
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  memoriesperhaps of ghosts。
  Of real ghosts?
  As   real   ghosts;   I   suspect;   as   any   one   on   earth   ever   saw;   faces   and
  scenes which have printed themselves so deeply on one's brain; that when
  one   passes   the   same   place;   long   years   after;   they   start   up   again;   out   of
  fields   and   roadsides;   as   if   they   were   alive   once   more;   and   need   sound
  sense to send them back again into their place as things which are past for
  ever; for good and ill。       But what did you want to know?
  Why; I am so tired of looking out of the window。                 It is all the same:
  fields and hedges; hedges and fields; and I want to talk。
  Fields and hedges; hedges and fields?              Peace and plenty; plenty and
  peace。     However;   it   may   seem   dull;   now   that   the   grass   is   cut;   but   you
  would not have said so two months ago; when the fields were all golden…
  green   with   buttercups;   and   the   whitethorn   hedges   like   crested   waves   of
  snow。     I should like to take a foreigner down the Vale of Berkshire in the
  end of May; and ask him what he thought of old England。                   But what shall
  we talk about?
  I want to know about Coprolites; if they dig them here; as they do at
  Cambridge。
  I don't think they do。      But I suspect they will some day。
  But why do people dig them?
  Because they are rational men; and want manure for their fields。
  But what are Coprolites?
  Well;   they   were   called   Coprolites   at   first   because   some   folk   fancied
  they were the leavings of fossil animals; such as you may really find in the
  lias at Lynn in Dorsetshire。         But they are not that; and all we can say is;
  that   a   long   time   ago;   before   the   chalk   began   to   be   made;   there   was   a
  shallow   sea   in   England;   the   shore   of   which   was   so   covered   with   dead
  animals; that the bone… earth (the phosphate of lime) out of them crusted
  itself round every bone; and shell; and dead sea…beast on the shore; and got
  covered up with fresh sand; and buried for ages as a mine of wealth。
  But how many millions of dead creatures; there must have been! What
  killed them?
  We do not know。        No more do we know how it comes to pass that this
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  thin band (often only a few inches thick) of dead creatures should stretch
  all   the  way    from    Dorsetshire     to  Norfolk;    and;   I