molluscs as lay around in thousands. But it was necessary to get along, and we went ahead, while above us the “physalides” waved their long tentacles over our heads; the umbrella-like medusæ with their opal and pink colouring surrounded by a scroll-work of azure, sheltered us from the sun’s rays; and the palagia panopyres, which, in the obscurity, sprinkled our path with phosphorescent light.
All these wonders were observed within the space of a quarter of a mile, and I scarcely stopped to observe them. Following Captain Nemo, who beckoned us onward, we found the nature of the ground began to change. To the plain of sand succeeded the viscous deposit termed “ooze,” composed entirely of siliceous or calcareous shells. We then passed through a prairie of algæ—plants which the water had not disturbed, and whose growth was of a fungous nature. These grassy plants were soft to the feet, and rivalled in the softness of their texture the finest carpets ever made. A light arch of marine plants, also belonging to this extensive family of algæ, of which there are more than 2,000 known species, crossed the surface of the ocean. I could-see, floating in long bands of fucus, some globular, some tubular, laurenciæ, cladostephi, the “palm” rhodymeniæ, like the fans of the cactus. I also observed that the green plants kept near the surface, while the red varieties grew lower down, leaving to the black and brown hydrophytes the formation of the lowest gardens of the sea.
These algæ are really wonderful. This “family” produces the largest, and at the same time the smallest vegetation in the world. While one may count forty
