THE WINDS OF THE OCEAN 55 



conies to mind which, while easily explainable, is 

 exceedingly strange to observe. On some of our 

 vertical cliffs the herbage grows close to the edge, and 

 sheep graze all along the down, keeping, as a rule, at 

 a good distance from the danger of falling over. But 

 when a gale is blowing right dead on shore the sheep 

 will be found, not, as might be expected, far inland 

 taking shelter, but close to the cliff edge. Their 

 instinct teaches them that they will find shelter in an 

 almost calm strip, for the stormy blast, striking the 

 cliff face rises, straight upwards, and acts as a barrier 

 against the wind that would otherwise come horizontally 

 over the top close to the ground. If the wind were 

 visible, it would seem to form a sort of covered way, 

 varying in width from the edge to some distance 

 inland, and of a height proportioned to the force 

 of the gale. In the same way a fence composed 

 of flat palings set at a distance from each other, 

 equal to their width, will be found to form a per- 

 fect protection against wind blowing at right angles 

 to it, a cushion of rebounding air from each paling 

 preventing any wind from getting through the inter- 

 spaces. 



So as what the wind does on a small scale it will 

 do on the largest scale imaginable, it will be found 

 that in the narrower waters of inland seas and lakes 

 it will be vain to look for steady breezes, and sudden 

 squalls as well as shortlived but furious tempests will 

 certainly occur from every quarter of the compass. 

 The Mediterranean Sea, although of great extent, is 

 peculiarly liable to these storms, and the early mariners 

 who in the infancy of navigation sailed that classic 

 sea, undoubtedly received a first-class education in 



