THE TRIUMPH OF LIFE 



the whole surface, and the earth star was a star 

 among stars, glowing like a sun — the delicate 

 foam substance of life could certainly not have 

 existed. When in later ages boiling basalt floods 

 were poiu*ed over wide surfaces life would have 

 been destroyed like a piece of human flesh 

 touched with a drop of molten metal. 



Suddenly a dim light is seen. The stone sep- 

 arates in a great opening. Cool air as from a 

 cellar strikes our heads. Before us lies in dim 

 outline a monstrous cave. Like the grotesque 

 teeth of some gigantic monster the stalactites 

 hang down from the roof and the stalagmites 

 rise from the floor. Dripping water taps and 

 patters gently. This is the craftsman at work 

 which in thousands of years has hollowed out 

 this whole cavity in the white lime stone and de- 

 posited the particles of lime in the stalactites 

 and stalagmites. The arches of this cave rise 

 to such a height that its upper galleries touch 

 the day light through open crevices, while the 

 lowest are yet in eternal earth night. Perhaps 

 just above is the tropical forest. Palms and li- 

 anas press into the crevices between the strata. 

 In the crevices nearest to the light sound the 

 shrill cries of millions of great owls that have 

 their nesting places there and only leave the cave 

 for their ghostly flights in the moonlight. We do 

 not turn our steps in that direction, but descend 

 into the lowest black gallery. As from Charon's 

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