The Hawkeye Ornithologist and Oologist. Vol. 1. No. 4 April 1888

Part 3

Chapter 32,484 wordsPublic domain

But now he stands upon the sandy beach with the breakers in sight, his eyes attracted to the sea weeds and pearly shells at his feet. He is interested, and examines them carefully. Some of the shells he finds inhabited, and, as he is a naturalist, is soon acquainted with each specific form, and has a learned name for it. But he also finds a real architect in the delicate tinted coral branches at his feet. Around the head and mouth of this little creature, serving as arms for obtaining food, he finds a number of tentacles. "Nature has given you a goodly work to do, little architect," cries the naturalist, "and these tentacles are well adapted to your animal wants. _Polypus_ is many armed, and henceforth, most scientifically, your name shall be polyp!"

And then he begins a pleasing study. Zoophytes he finds everywhere, spreading their beautiful architectural works along the continental borders.

He crosses the stormy Atlantic, weighing the mighty power that drives the storm. On, on through the quiet Indian ocean, the phosphorescent Indian ocean, naming and collecting myriad living forms, until he reaches the beautiful Polynesia, where, spread out in the tropical sun are the coral reefs--monuments of submerged islands--with an epitaph to the departed written in living characters around each placid lagoon.

The scientist, though, can read and understand; it is not beyond his conception; and bringing together these epitaphs, he forms a perfect image of those submerged lands. Vegetation and animalization, well defined, are as clear in his imagination as though, even now, the white sunlight were reflected from those ancient islands, forming a perfect image on the retina.

He studies hard, and his conclusions, builded on the material laws of nature, are reliable; and now he returns to civilization honored and respected, bringing the material of his researches to the civilized world.

There are other phenomena tho', fully as grand as coral islands and polyps, and he is soon in the field of work again. The gallant ship carries him through the wintry northern seas, with their ice mountains towering beneath an enfeebled sun, to the realms of perpetual snow. Past Greenland's milky glaciers that feed the Arctic main with ice mountains. Past the struggling crater of Mount Hecla, where, bound by the king of these ultimate realms, the Fire Demon struggles to be free, groaning out the essence of wrath from his fiery nostril in moulten rivers that are petrified by the rigid Ice King, and added to the adamantine chains with which he is bound; on, on to the north through a world of icebergs that moan and groan as though they were fettered in this desolate waste of frozen sea, to bar the explorer from the frosty Ice King's ultimate throne, the North Pole. But no; the scientific mind knows no defeat, and he toils on over the icy fields, while the sun, aweary with his long vigil, sinks further and further in the horizon, as though he could no longer banish the sleep from his eyes, when lo!--an open Polar sea stretches away to the northward, breaking against a rocky, mountainous coast.

Filled with the joy of first discovery, the scientist voices the language of his soul in one grand apostrophe: "Oh restless Polar sea, that breaks upon this rock-bound coast, and spreads away, I know not where, e'en as Eternity, had I but my gallant ship, I'd sail thy tossing main!"

Sadly he toils back to the south, and none to soon. Creaking and roaring the massive icebergs among, on comes the tempest, and the scientist is thankful for the much needed shelter. The sun, too, has deserted him, and the grand aurora borealis, like a flaming sword above the lost Eden, seems to guard the Arctic realms, while sparkling gems glitter on each icy pinnacle.

The Arctic winter, which but for the aurora borealis would be black as the inkiest night, passes slowly away. Oh, how cold and gloomy it is! How the explorer struggles and struggles with the rigid Ice King, eagerly waiting for the departed sun to return and rescue him, and at last his anxious watch is rewarded. The east puts on the blush of modesty, a sure prophesy of his majesty's return, and immediately his welcome face appears. As he comes up the way, the icebergs part to let him pass, and the gallant ship, freed from her rigid chains, sails onward to the south.

Thus, even thus it is that the scientist toils on and on in a masterly search for truth. Is it for glory or wealth that he dares this? No; the luxuries of civilization are even like contagion in his estimation, and with a Stoical spirit that is grand, he leads a purely intellectual life, drawing from Nature her richest treasures which she is only too glad to give. His wisdom is like a rich soil in which the seeds of knowledge and virtue germinate. He is a lover of truth, and in Nature he finds his ideal.

Natural phenomena become beautified before his studious mind, and the lower animal forms teach him objective lessons of wisdom, that, by their very simplicity, are deeply impressed on his memory.

Even in the profound laws of chemistry and astronomy he finds a beauty that is irresistable and studies them until he develops a giant intellect. He can see beauty in truth; he can see truth in Nature; and Nature becomes his inspiration.

For The Hawkeye O. and O. CARE OF MINERALS.

BY W. S. BEEKMAN.

There seems to be difficulty in realizing a progress that is not in some manner dependant upon care. Care is exemplified at our several points of observation in the universe, and is realized in all things capable of advancement. Ourselves require care. Care for health, system, surroundings, character, and appearance. Among some of the many things, where, in its advancement, care greatly tends to produce a degree of perfection, equal to the amount bestowed, may be mentioned the various forms of accumulating objects for advancement. Among these forms, it will serve us at present to consider only that which has for its object-matter the accumulation of the natural chemical bodies for mineralogical study. Every one admires a prettily arranged series of rocks, and in our efforts to please both visual and intellectual senses, ever bear in mind that the direct results to be obtained are ever dependent upon the genuineness of the care bestowed.

Minerals are as much under the necessity of receiving care as is the delicate skin of an infant. Those hard and popularly considered imperishable bodies we do not exempt from the rulings of _care_ as one would suppose. It is the first impulse that much govern our actions while working our specimens of the bed-rock. Specimens must be broken from their homes as carefully as one would exhume a mummy. Hammer and chisel must be deftly applied to the mother-rock, giving a nip here and a whack there, making every blow tell. After securing the specimen carefully protect all its friable or delicate parts. This can be done in many ways; often in emergencies where one does not care to utilize their handkerchiefs, a handful of grass applied to a projecting crystal will insure its safety while trimming for cabinet use.

Before trimming your specimen very much, consider carefully all the objectionable parts you wish to remove. As in a game of chess--you must know the positions and the effects of every move. Many times one will in a hurry glance over a rock and say: "Well, now, if that was trimmed about so it would be a good thing." Whack goes the hammer, and crumble goes the specimen. Failing to see that there was a weak place of partial fracture of the rock, which, had it been seen, could have been protected, the specimen is destroyed, owing to the lack of care. In trimming a specimen consider what you want saved and what will be better off than on. See how it can be best shaped so as to stand easily and show what is to be admired mostly. In many instances applying the chisel to the surface in directing cleaveage planes will facilitate the improvement of the mineral at a less expense of battered material. A hard compact rock may be more easily broken by striking the stone while held in the hand, first protecting the hand by an old glove, than when laid on a hard surface. Where a stone is known to be quickly broken into fragments it may be found well to wrap the stone in stout paper, or cloth, before pounding. In this way the smaller fragments are easily obtained. Always trimming your specimens at the quarry your next attention should be the wrapping of each individual in soft paper, previous to being carried home.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]