Читать книгу The Sea: Its Stirring Story of Adventure, Peril, & Heroism (Vol. 1-4). The History of Sea Voyages, Discovery, Piracy and Maritime Warfare онлайн

133 страница из 418

“Through Calpe’s Straits survey the steepy shore;

Europe and Afric on each other gaze!

Lands of the dark-eyed maid and dusky Moor

Alike beheld beneath pale Hecate’s blaze;

How softly on the Spanish shore she plays,

Disclosing rock, and slope, and forest brown,

Distinct though darkening with her waning phase.”

In the distance gleams Mons Abyla—the Apes’ Hill of sailors—a term which could have been, for a very long time, as appropriately given to Gibraltar. It is the other sentinel of the Straits; while Ceuta, the strong fortress built on its flanks, is held by Spain on Moorish soil, just as we hold the Rock of Rocks on theirs. Its name is probably a corruption of Septem—Seven—from the number of hills on which it is built. It is to-day a military prison, there usually being here two or three thousand convicts, while both convicts and fortress are guarded by a strong garrison of 3,500 soldiers. These in their turn were, only a few years ago, guarded by the jealous Moors, who shot both guards and prisoners if they dared to emerge in the neighbourhood. There is, besides, a town, as at Gibraltar, with over 15,000 inhabitants, and at the present day holiday excursions are commonly made across the Straits in strong little steamers or other craft. The tide runs into the Straits from the Atlantic at the rate of four or more knots per hour, and yet all this water, with that of the innumerable streams and rivers which fall into the Mediterranean, scarcely suffice to raise a perceptible tide! What becomes of all this water? Is there a hole in the earth through which it runs off? Hardly: evaporation is probably the true secret of its disappearance: and that this is the reason is proved by the greater saltness of the Mediterranean as compared with the Atlantic.