CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.
THE LONE MOUNTAIN.
It has been observed, that upon the plains of the zuur-veldt country,mountains of singular forms meet the eye of the traveller--cones, domes,square box-like masses with table tops; sharp ridges, like the roofs ofgigantic houses; and some that pierce the heavens with pointed peakslike the steeples of churches! Some, again, present a horizontaloutline, like the parapet of a fortification, while square tower-likemasses, rising above the general level, carry out the idea of some workof military architecture on a grand scale.
Our young yagers were very much interested in these mountain forms, sovaried and fantastic. Sometimes their route led them along the base ofa precipice rising a thousand feet sheer above the plain, and trendingfor miles without a break, so that for miles no access could be had tothe mountain that rose still higher above. Sometimes they werecompelled to trek along narrow ridges that sloped off on both sides,leaving scarce enough of level to run the wheels upon. Then, again,they would be compelled to pass around some spur, that, shooting formiles out into the plain, barred their direct path.
As they treked across one of the widest plains they had yet seen, asingularly formed mountain drew their attention. It could scarce becalled a mountain, as its altitude above the plain could not have beenmore than seven or eight hundred feet; but its brown rocky surface gaveit that character, and to have styled such a mass a hill would have beenequally misnaming it. There were no "foothills," or inequalities nearits base. The greensward of the level plain stretched away on everyside--its verdant colour strongly contrasting with the dark browngranite of the mountain.
The sides of this singular mountain sloped from base to summit asregularly as those of an Egyptian pyramid; and at a distance it lookedpyramidal, but on coming nearer its rounded form could be perceived. Itwas, in reality, an obtuse cone, perfect in all except the apex, and itwas there that the peculiarity of this mountain lay. Instead of endingat the apex, a steeple-like rock rose out of the summit some thirty feethigher, ending in a point that appeared from below as "sharp as aneedle." It was this that had drawn the attention of the young yagersmore particularly, as other mountains of conical form were common enoughalong their route; but this one, looking, as one of them observed, likean inverted funnel, differed from any they had yet seen. It was veryconspicuous, thus standing isolated in the midst of the open plain, andcontrasting so much in its colour with the green table upon which itappeared to rest.
"Let us go and explore it," proposed Arend; "it isn't much out of ourway. We can easily overtake these slow-going oxen again. What say yeall?"
"Let us go, by all means," said Hans, who fancied that upon soodd-looking a mountain he might fall in with some new plant.
"Agreed!" cried all the others in a breath, for when Hans proposed athing it was usually assented to by his younger comrades.
Without further ado the whole six turned their horses' heads for themountain, leaving the wagons to trek on across the plain, towards thepoint where they intended to encamp.
When the riders first faced to the mountain, it appeared to be about amile off, and all, except Hans, believed that it was not more. Hansmaintained that it was _five_, and was unanimously contradicted. Adiscussion took place, Hans standing alone--five to one against him.The idea of its being more than a mile was scouted. Hans wasridiculed--laughed at--called blind.
There was a little epitome of the world on that plain--a paraphrase upona small scale of Galileo and his contemporaries.
And here let me counsel you, boy reader, ever to be cautious how youpronounce against ideas that may be put forth, because they chance todiffer from those you already hold. Half of what you have alreadylearnt is erroneous, and much of it has been taught you with an evilintent. I do not refer to what has been taught you by your schoolinstructor, who imparts knowledge to you with the best of motives. Butthe tyrants of the earth--both priests and princes--for long centurieshave had the moulding of men's minds, and they have spared no labour toshape them to their own purposes. They have so well succeeded, that onehalf the _very proverbs_ by which conduct is guided, prove uponexamination to be false and wicked.
There is a peculiarity about the attainment of knowledge which assistswicked men in misleading their victims, and I would wish that all of youshould know this peculiarity. I do not claim to be its discoverer, forothers may have discovered it as well; but up to this hour I have metwith no promulgation of it.
It is this, that _every truth is overshadowed by a sophism, more likethe truth than truth itself_. This law holds good throughout the wholeextent of the moral, intellectual, and material world.
I cannot pause here to illustrate the above statement--not even toexplain it. But I hope the day is not distant, when you and I mayconverse upon such matters _face to face_.
I hope you believe that I have helped you to some knowledge; but I nowaffirm, and in full seriousness, that, if you examine the statement Ihave thus emphatically made, and _study it to a full understanding_, youwill have gained more knowledge in that one sentence than all I havehitherto written. You will find in it the key to most of the errors andmisfortunes that afflict mankind.
In that sentence you will also find a key to the difference of opinionthat existed between Hans and his five companions. None of the fivewere _thinkers_--they relied entirely on the evidence of their senses.A process of ratiocination never troubled the brain of any of the five.Had they never before seen a straight rod plunged into crystal water,they would most certainly have believed that the rod was bent into anangle--ay, and have ridiculed any one who should have contradicted the_evidence of their senses_, just in the way they now ridiculed Hans forasserting that an object was five miles off, when they _plainly saw_ itwas only a fifth part of that distance. It certainly _appeared_ only amile off--that is, to one who had been in the habit of measuringdistances by the eye in the ordinary atmosphere of a lowland country.But Hans knew they were now in a region elevated many thousand feetabove the level of the sea. Partly from books, and partly from his ownobservation, he had studied the nature of the atmosphere at thataltitude; and he was acquainted with the optical illusions of which itis frequently the cause. He admitted that the mountain _looked_ near,even as near as a mile; but he held on to his original opinion.
Patient as was the young philosopher, the ridicule of his companionsnettled him a little; and suddenly pulling up on the plain, hechallenged them to a measurement. They all agreed to the proposal.They had no measuring chain--not even a yardstick.
But they knew that Hans could tell distances without one; and havingconsented that his measurement should be taken, they all rode back tothe point where the discussion had commenced.
How was Hans going to manage it? By trigonometrical triangles, you willsay. Not a bit of it. He could have told the distance in that way ifhe had wished; but he had a simpler plan. Hans did not carry a_viameter_, but a _viameter_ carried him!
Yes, in the stout steady-going cob which he rode, he had as perfect aviameter as ever was set to a wheel; and Hans having once put his horseto the proper pace, could tell the distance passed over almost ascorrectly as if it had been traced by a chain! There was a certain rateof speed into which Hans's horse, when left to himself, was sure tofall, and this speed was so many steps to the minute--the steps being ofequal length. By either counting the steps, or noting the time, theexact distance could be obtained.
Hans had been in the habit of putting his horse to the proper pace forthis very purpose, and could do so at a minute's warning. So, takingout his watch to regulate the speed by the moment hand, he startedforward in a direct line for the mountain.
All rode, after, without noise--so as not to disturb Hans in hiscounting. But for that, they would have continued to gibe him a little.Only for a short while, however; for, as they rode on, and the mountaindid not appear to _come_ any nearer, their faces began to look veryblank indeed.
When they had ridden for a full half-h
our, and the mountain _stilllooked a mile off_, Hans had five very crest-fallen boys moving along inhis rear.
When they had ridden nearly another half-hour, and their horses' snoutsalmost touched the rocks of the mountain, none of the five was surprisedto hear Hans cry out in a loud firm voice:--
"Just five miles and a quarter!"
Not a word was spoken. Not one of the five ventured even a whisper ofcontradiction. Hans did not laugh in his turn, but facing round simplysaid--
"_Every truth is overshadowed by a sophism more like the truth thantruth itself_!"