Over the Ocean-bed 



A heavy cyclone may be raging above, but 

 the troublous turmoil soon ceases to affect us. 

 Stormy billows, with their showers of spray, 

 cannot disturb the calm of these depths. As 

 we sink lower, we find ourselves enwrapped in 

 stillness. A creeping current is around us, yet 

 with movement so gentle that we are not aware 

 of it. 



During the early part of our descent we come 

 across innumerable sea-weeds ; delicate floating 

 red fronds, and long brown ribbons tangled 

 together. 



Presently we pass through a sticky slimy mass 

 of Diatoms, reaching far to right and left, and of 

 great depth. Untold millions of those tiny 

 vegetables are living and growing together, in 

 one enormous floating bank. 



Now we have reached the "hundred-fathom 

 limit," and as we go beyond it, we find marked 

 changes from the life we have known above. 



No seasons here. No variations from summer 

 to winter, from spring to autumn. Only one 

 dead level of perpetual chill, becoming colder 

 and colder. 



No light here. No variations from night to 

 day, from evening to morning. Nothing but 

 N 177 



