AT THE END OF THE SPECTRUM 1 65 



visual light. I was beyond sunlight as far as the human 

 eye could tell, and from here down, for two billion years 

 there had been no day or night, no summer or winter, no 

 passing of time until we came to record it. From here on, 

 even if I went down six miles, to the bottom of Bartlett 

 Deep, I would experience only differences in degree, not 

 of kind. I could now prove without doubt whether con- 

 tinued observations from a window such as this would 

 yield valuable scientific observations, or whether the at- 

 tainment of these depths must be considered in the light 

 of merely a stunt, breaking former records. 



The temperature outside was already ten degrees lower 

 than that inside, and the pressure had increased to seven 

 hundred and seventy pounds on each square inch. Two of 

 the lanternfish with the pale green lights came close to 

 the window and yard-long eels — several altogether — un- 

 dulated past. Here I began to be inarticulate, for the 

 amount of life evident from the dancing lights and its 

 activity, the knowledge of the short time at my disposal, 

 and the realization that most of the creatures at which I 

 was looking were unnamed and had never been seen by 

 any man were almost too much for any connected report 

 or continued concentration. 



Nevertheless I began to ignore the passing of dozens of 

 bright lights and to look and look with all my power at 

 some one definite object. In this way my eyes began to 

 perceive outlines, to unite apparently unconnected illumi- 

 nation. For example I saw seven fish which kept in sight 



