酷兔英语

章节正文
文章总共2页
grass of a manured meadow. In one the staple is deficient in length,

in another in fineness; while in all there is a constant tendency



toward disease, rendering various washings and dippings indispensable

to prevent its falling out. The problem of the quality and quantity



of the carcass seems to be as doubtful and as far removed from a

satisfactorysolution as that of the wool. Desirable breeds blundered



upon by long series of groping experiments are often found to be

unstable and subject to disease--bots, foot rot, blind staggers, etc.



--causing infinite trouble, both among breeders and manufacturers.

Would it not be well, therefore, for some one to go back as far as



possible and take a fresh start?

The source or sources whence the various breeds were derived is not



positively known, but there can be hardly any doubt of their being

descendants of the four or five wild species so generally distributed



throughout the mountainous portions of the globe, the marked

differences between the wild and domesticspecies being readily



accounted for by the known variability of the animal, and by the long

series of painstaking selection to which all its characteristics have



been subjected. No other animal seems to yield so submissively to the

manipulations of culture. Jacob controlled the color of his flocks



merely by causing them to stare at objects of the desired hue; and

possibly Merinos may have caught their wrinkles from the perplexed



brows of their breeders. The California species (Ovis montana)[2] is a

noble animal, weighing when full-grown some three hundred and fifty



pounds, and is well worthy the attention of wool-growers as a point

from which to make a new departure, for pure wildness is the one great



want, both of men and of sheep.

II



A Geologist's Winter Walk[3]

After reaching Turlock, I sped afoot over the stubble fields and



through miles of brown hemizonia and purple erigeron, to Hopeton,

conscious of little more than that the town was behind and beneath me,



and the mountains above and before me; on through the oaks and

chaparral of the foothills to Coulterville; and then ascended the



first great mountain step upon which grows the sugar pine. Here I

slackened pace, for I drank the spicy, resiny wind, and beneath the



arms of this noble tree I felt that I was safely home. Never did pine

trees seem so dear. How sweet was their breath and their song, and



how grandly they winnowed the sky! I tingled my fingers among their

tassels, and rustled my feet among their brown needles and burrs, and



was exhilarated and joyful beyond all I can write.

When I reached Yosemite, all the rocks seemed talkative, and more



telling and lovable than ever. They are dear friends, and seemed to

have warm blood gushing through their granite flesh; and I love them



with a love intensified by long and close companionship. After I had

bathed in the bright river, sauntered over the meadows, conversed with



the domes, and played with the pines, I still felt blurred and weary,

as if tainted in some way with the sky of your streets. I determined,



therefore, to run out for a while to say my prayers in the higher

mountain temples. "The days are sunful," I said, "and, though now



winter, no great danger need be encountered, and no sudden storm will

block my return, if I am watchful."



The morning after this decision, I started up the canyon of Tenaya,

caring little about the quantity of bread I carried; for, I thought, a



fast and a storm and a difficult canyon were just the medicine I

needed. When I passed Mirror Lake, I scarcely noticed it, for I was



absorbed in the great Tissiack--her crown a mile away in the hushed

azure; her purplegranitedrapery flowing in soft and graceful folds



down to my feet, embroidered gloriously around with deep, shadowy

forest. I have gazed on Tissiack a thousand times--in days of solemn



storms, and when her form shone divine with the jewelry of winter, or

was veiled in living clouds; and I have heard her voice of winds, and



snowy, tuneful waters when floods were falling; yet never did her soul

reveal itself more impressively than now. I hung about her skirts,



lingering timidly, until the higher mountains and glaciers compelled




文章总共2页
文章标签:名著  

章节正文