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Chapter 61
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Long leagues, for weary days, we voyaged along that coast, till we
came to regions where we multiplied our mantles.
The sky grew overcast. Each a night, black storm-clouds swept the
wintry sea; and like Sahara caravans, which leave their sandy wakes--
so, thick and fleet, slanted the scud behind. Through all this rack
and mist, ten thousand foam-flaked dromedary-humps uprose.
Deep among those panting, moaning fugitives, the three canoes raced on.
And now, the air grew nipping cold. The clouds shed off their fleeces;
a snow-hillock, each canoe; our beards, white-frosted.
And so, as seated in our shrouds, we sailed in among great mountain
passes of ice-isles; from icy ledges scaring shivering seals, and
white bears, musical with icicles, jingling from their shaggy ermine.
Far and near, in towering ridges, stretched the glassy Andes; with
their own frost, shuddering through all their domes and pinnacles.
Ice-splinters rattled down the cliffs, and seethed into the sea.
Broad away, in amphitheaters undermined by currents, whole cities of
ice-towers, in crashes, toward one center, fell.--In their
earthquakes, Lisbon and Lima never saw the like. Churned and broken in
the boiling tide, they swept off amain;--over and over rolling; like
porpoises to vessels tranced in calms, bringing down the gale.
At last, rounding an antlered headland, that seemed a moose at
bay--ere long, we launched upon blue lake-like waters, serene as
Windermere, or Horicon. Thus, from the boisterous storms of youth, we
glide upon senility.
But as we northward voyaged, another aspect wore the sea.
In far-off, endless vistas, colonnades of water-spouts were seen: all
heaven's dome upholding on their shafts: and bright forms gliding up
and down within. So at Luz, in his strange vision, Jacob saw the angels.
A boundless cave of stalactites, it seemed; the cloud-born vapors
downward spiraling, till they met the whirlpool-column from the sea;
then, uniting, over the waters stalked, like ghosts of gods. Or midway
sundered--down, sullen, sunk the watery half; and far up into heaven,
was drawn the vapory. As, at death, we mortals part in twain; our
earthy half still here abiding; but our spirits flying whence they came.
In good time, we gained the thither side of great Kolumbo of the South;
and sailing on, long waited for the day; and wondered at the darkness.
"What steadfast clouds!" cried Yoomy, "yonder! far aloft: that ridge,
with many points; it fades below, but shows a faint white crest."
"Not clouds, but mountains," said Babbalanja, "the vast spine, that
traverses Kolumbo; spurring off in ribs, that nestle
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