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164
Glaucus; Or, The Wonders of the Shore
·
Charles Kingsley
77
But
here
we
are
at
the
old
bank
of
boulders,
the
ruins
of
an
antique
pier
which
the
monks
of
Tor
Abbey
built
for
their
convenience,
while
Torquay
was
but
a
knot
of
fishing
huts
within
a
lonely
limestone
cove.
To
get
to
it,
though,
we
have
passed
many
a
hidden
treasure;
for
every
ledge
of
these
flat
New-red-sandstone
rocks,
if
torn
up
with
the
crowbar,
discloses
in
its
cracks
and
crannies
nests
of
strange
forms
which
shun
the
light
of
day;
beautiful
Actiniæ
fill
the
tiny
caverns
with
living
flowers;
great
Pholades
(Plate
X.
figs.
3,
4)
bore
by
hundreds
in
the
softer
strata;
and
wherever
a
thin
layer
of
muddy
sand
intervenes
between
two
slabs,
long
Annelid
worms
of
quaintest
forms
and
colours
have
their
horizontal
burrows,
among
those
of
that
curious
and
rare
radiate
animal,
the
Spoonworm,
{113}
an
eyeless
bag
about
an
inch
long,
half
bluish
grey,
half
pink,
with
a
strange
scalloped
and
wrinkled
proboscis
of
saffron
colour,
which
serves,
in
some
mysterious
way,
soft
as
it
is,
to
collect
food,
and
clear
its
dark
passage
through
the
rock.
See,
at
the
extreme
low-water
mark,
where
the
broad
olive
fronds
of
the
Laminariæ,
like
fan-palms,
droop
and
wave
gracefully
in
the
retiring
ripples,
a
great
boulder
which
will
serve
our
purpose.
Its
upper
side
is
a
whole
forest
of
sea-weeds,
large
and
small;
and
that
forest,
if
you
examined
it
closely,
as
full
of
inhabitants
as
those
of
the
Amazon
or
the
Gambia.
To
“beat”
that
dense
cover
would
be
an
endless
task:
but
on
the
under
side,
where
no
sea-weeds
grow,
we
shall
find
full
in
view
enough
to
occupy
us
till
the
tide
returns.
For
the
slab,
see,
is
such
a
one
as
sea-beasts
love
to
haunt.
Its
weed-covered
surface
shows
that
the
surge
has
not
shifted
it
for
years
past.
It
lies
on
other
boulders
clear
of
sand
and
mud,
so
that
there
is
no
fear
of
dead
sea-weed
having
lodged
and
decayed
under
it,
destructive
to
animal
life.
We
can
see
dark
crannies
and
caves
beneath;
yet
too
narrow
to
allow
the
surge
to
wash
in,
and
keep
the
surface
clean.
It
will
be
a
fine
menagerie
of
Nereus,
if
we
can
but
turn
it.
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