xiv INTRODUCTION 



coming. Here, also, there is no selfish consideration 

 of our own wants, for we, living without the tropics, 

 are seldom afflicted by drought, although, when such 

 a state of things does arise, we are apt to realize what 

 the almost periodical scarcity of rain must mean to 

 the suffering millions of India. But there is, I submit, 

 a grand and most highly romantic lesson to be learned 

 in the contemplation of this ceaseless, silent, constant 

 transition of this prime necessity of life from the 

 ocean to the land, which goes on independently of 

 us and our trivial efforts, although in this case, as 

 in nearly every other where Nature is working on our 

 behalf, we may, if we will, aid her by storing up her 

 products. Of course we cannot store the air, but in 

 Egypt and in India we are now witnessing the amazing 

 results of forethought, assisted by engineering science, 

 in those lands once barren and now tremendously 

 fertile, simply because the water which was once 

 allowed to flow unhindered back to its source, the 

 sea, is held up and distributed over the thirsty land 

 in time of necessity. 



I have also attempted to depict the work of the 

 storm, of the hurricane, that awful demonstration of 

 the power of the air, which is qualified to rank with 

 the terror-striking earthquake and destructive volcanic 

 eruption. Unquestionably the work of the hurricane 

 and the ordinary gale is beneficent, although it cannot 

 be gainsaid that in the pursuance of its high calling 

 pigmy man is often called upon to suffer. And as we, 

 in our short-sightedness, are often only able to see 

 what affects our own immediate vicinity, we naturally 

 dread these marvellous manifestations of the beneficent 

 energies of Nature. Now, I am not attempting to run 



