noun: hoofed mammal of mountains of Europe and Asia having upright horns with backward-hooked tips
noun: a soft suede leather formerly from the sheep of the chamois antelope but now from sheepskin
 See "The Ox and the Chamois" in Nature as Teacher, p.41, Vol. II of the Ecotechnology series. — Ed.] [The Energy Evolution - Harnessing Free Energy from Nature, Letter to Werner Zimmermann]
Anyone, who has observed the appalling cruelty suffered by wretched draught-animals in the difficult and dangerous transport of logs in the mountains, will understand why I have concentrated my whole mind and thoughts on the possibility of bringing this, in any case worthless timber, down into the valley without the brains of oxen. My many suggestions for transporting timber by water were always rejected because this traditional system of transport usually causes such damage to streams that it is more economic to build forest roads and railways. They are excessively expensive to operate but nevertheless are cheaper than the subsequent damage which becomes evident in any stream-channel after a short time. Reference was always made to Archimedes' famous principle: heavy beech-logs do not float and so on scientific grounds alone it would be Utopian to take into account such foolish suggestions for water-transport.
My father had transported hundreds of thousands of solid cubic meters of beech over large distances. He never allowed this work to be carried out by day but as a rule on moonlit nights. As my father always explained, water irradiated by the Sun becomes tired and lazy, rolls itself up and sleeps. Whereas, during the night and especially in moonlight, it becomes fresh and lively so that it is able to carry pine and beech logs heavier than water.
All my arguments for water transport were dismissed as ridiculous fantasies. Thus one day I found myself once again behind a heavily-overloaded log- sledge, which, under a torrent of abuse and cracks of the whip, the wretched team of oxen had to drag over the mountain,. The poor beasts careered down- hill, spreading wide their four legs, eyes bulging with fear, because the teamster did not wish to apply brake-chains and spoil the good snow-track.
No friendly suggestions helped to alleviate the lot of the poor oxen under the yoke. Due to his paltry wages, the man was barely able to cover his expenses. What now happened I chalk up to a kindly fate with which wise Nature came to my assistance, without my having an inkling of its ramifications at the time. As a rule, the oxen, cringing with fear on the descent into the valley under withering whip-cracks, had to approach the next rise at the gallop, and on this occasion one of the oxen collapsed. Having become thoroughly entangled, all attempts to get this ox back on its feet failed. "Shame you fell down! Now you'll just have to learn how to get up again!" fumed the bemused peasant, and in a fury he began to strike the poor beast. The more I yelled at the angry man, the more he flailed at the animal. Finally the ox convulsed, dropping its foaming mouth onto the hard-packed snow. Out of its crushed eyes the last of its spirit glistened like tears.
The very next moment the man got out a halter with numerous silver clappers, which he passed over the standing oxen, sliding it over the humped back of the recumbent ox. Whereupon the blinded ox took such fright that with one heave it stood up on its four quivering legs again and in doing so tossed the peasant head over heels. The man took a long time to stand up again. Once this stalwart fellow had recovered his balance, he rubbed his nose backwards and forwards, right and left with the back of his hand. Quietly taking a sledge-hammer, he knocked away the retaining chains so that the logs tumbled thunderingly down the slope. "Mr Forester, our agreement is at an end", he declared. Taking his oxen by the yoke-strap and grinning sardonically, he returned to the cabin to inform his colleagues of the happy end to his misbegotten contract. A few hours later all the ox-teams left and I stood utterly alone in the forest, pondering on how I could get the already-sold timber down to the valley. Forced to act quickly, I had an improvised weir and sluice-gate erected, and without the slightest hesitation I had the logs thrown into the forest stream, which was beginning to rise owing to the meltwater. In the early morning the logs floated downstream without difficulty. The Sun had hardly blinked on the water before the logs sank and would not be budged from the spot. It was only in the late evening that the water came alive again, and in this way, avoiding certain times of day, I brought the logs, with only a few exceptions, down into the valley by night. Only in a deep ravine, where no ray of sunlight fell on the water, did the 'sinkers' remain lying. No surge of water was able to stir these waterlogged timbers from where they lay. Curiously enough, in the following summer, however, on the occasion of a warm rain these stragglers turned up, whereupon I noticed that they no longer lay flat, but were floating half upright.
Accustomed to observe all natural phenomena very keenly, it quickly became clear to me that the Sun's rays are able to produce many effects undreamt of by our learned scientists. At any rate, the good Archimedes had overlooked many things in this regard so even in those days I had already lost faith in the ancient Greeks. It only became clear to me later on that old Isaac Newton, the deified Mayer with his law of the conservation of energy, and the botanists with their law of heliotropism, had all erred. Once again, kind Fate came to my aid, and I will relate how this was manifested in a practical way.
 'Sinkers': Colloquial term for logs heavier than water - Ed.
 This refers to the German physicist, Julius Robert von Mayer (1814-1878), who contributed to the formulation of the Law of Conservation of Energy. - Ed.
On a particularly cold December morning after the above event had occurred, I was stalking a very powerful buck in the ravine where the logs always came to rest. It was a loner and seldom seen. I was just about to abandon the fruitless hunt when a small trickle of snow on the steeply- inclined walls caught my eye. Immediately afterwards the shrill warning call of the concealed chamois reached my ears, and at last I espied the much sought-after beast standing behind a dwarf pine. The situation was extremely tricky, because once shot, the chamois would inevitably plunge into the almost inaccessible ravine and in all probability smash its magnificent horns. In the end the hunting spirit got the upper hand. Under fire the good buck collapsed, slipped and fell head over heels over the edge. A moment later I heard it hit the ice-sheet at the bottom of the ravine far below with a dull thud.
"Damn!" I thought to myself, "Now the horns will be broken and the beard will freeze and lose its beautiful symmetry!". It was hard to know what to do next. For hours I tried to find somewhere to climb down. Suddenly I slipped and tumbled into the ravine down the icy path of an avalanche. Using my staff as a brake, I landed luckily on a heap of snow. Overjoyed, I caught sight of the chamois, which fortunately had not fallen through the ice and into the water. A minute later I stood over it, and, admiring its horns and beard, I began to remove them. I lifted up its body and attached it securely to the carrying strap, taking its entrails over to an area of open water which lay a short way upstream, in order to repay the fish for my having disturbed their night's peace. Having slit open the entrails with a knife to release the gases, I watched them sink slowly towards the bottom until they finally lay on the sandy riverbed. At this point the water was several meters deep, crystal-clear and totally still. While washing my sweaty hands, I noticed many 'sinkers' about 4m (13ft) below. They were performing a remarkable dance. It was as though the logs lying in the absolutely still water had become magnetic. Now and then the butt of one log lifted, floated upwards slightly, laying itself a few feet over another log, only to recoil in the opposite direction the very next moment as if in fright. Chamois, horns and beard were forgotten! Hour upon hour passed. I was unable to drag myself away from this extraordinary spectacle. Gradually evening fell and with it came an even keener chill. Suddenly a heavy log stood straight up, paused for a moment, and with a lurch shot out of the water, to be encircled immediately with an Elizabethan-style ruff of ice. Soon the other logs began to perform the same witches' dance. For a few minutes several logs, girdled with an ice necklace and projecting about 10cm (4 in.) above the surface, swayed to and fro in the water as if alive. Indeed, even more marvellous events were about to take place! For a long time I lay on the ice and observed the action at the bottom of the icy-cold stream. There! I couldn't believe my eyes! There was a strange activity amongst the variously-sized stones lying on the bed. A few were as large as a human head and began to come to life. For a long time they played the same game as the logs did earlier, first approaching each other only immediately to recoil. Flouting all the laws of gravity they drifted about, attracting and repelling each other. At first I thought that the stones might be electrically charged. I remembered the phenomenal luminescence given off by such milky-coloured stones which leave yellowish-gold comet-tails behind them when rubbed together under water. This phenomenon is what had apparently given rise to the legendary Rhinegold in the 'Song of the Nibelungs'.
All of a sudden a large, head-sized stone began to gyrate slowly in circles like the trout at the waterfall before it begins to float upwards. It was egg- shaped. The very next moment the stone was at the surface right before my very eyes. It was quickly encircled by a visibly-growing collar of ice and this apparently-possessed, gently rocking stone, floated on the full-moonlit surface of the water, just as the heavy beech-logs had done earlier on. Soon a second, then a third, and still more stones, all making the same manoeuvres, rose to the surface of the water. The water soon looked like a cake bespeckled with raisins. Eventually almost all the milky-white stones that had been smoothed and rounded rose to the surface. The remaining rough, angular stones which had fallen in from the banks were left motionless on the bed of the stream.
At the time I took no account of the precise angle of the incident moon beams, which make lunatics walk about on roofs. Naturally I had no idea that this involved a concentrative process, nor did I realize the significance of the oxygen-concentrating effects of the chill on this bitterly cold night of the full Moon. This cold concentration gives rise to the emission of expansive emanations, which lead to the creation of the 'original' form of motion. It is this form of movement that overcomes gravity and raises the specifically heavier stones to the surface of the water. As a huntsman I was well aware that female physical masses, charged with negative ions, become fiery when handled coolly. I also knew that in their hunger for reactive substances (semen or fertilization) these female bodies, known to triumph over the male when they succumb, were able to overcome not only their own weight, but also that of their superimposed load. What I found hard to believe was that, apart from negating their own weight, these stones were also able to over-power the watery resistance to motion pressing down upon them.
Although at the time I was unaware that this process was the starting- point for the explanation of atomic transformation, it nevertheless made me decide to be even more observant in the future. As a result further events unfolded which, understandably, appear highly mystical to scientists, but which in reality are completely natural manifestations of the forces of Nature. Without them there would be no life and movement in this fascinating world. My main concern of the moment, however, was how to remove the chamois, which by this time had become firmly frozen in the ice, and how to climb out of the ravine in the middle of the night together with my buck. Luckily it was a glorious full Moon lit night. I turned my steps home-ward over an ice-bridge that had formed. Many years later I learned that this natural phenomenon, which has still not been explained scientifically, was an everyday occurrence on the River Angara, the outflow from Lake Baikal, and enabled the farmers to cross this bridgeless river in winter.
In any event, I was fundamentally cured of whatever school knowledge I had left. On this day the relentless battle with established scientists began. I had unfortunately greatly underestimated these scientists, because I had no idea how dangerous is this species of human being. Without the faithful support of several women and the fighting comradeship of Werner Zimmermann I might perhaps have perished, as had many other discoverers before me. Thus this enquirer after truth, Zimmermann, also became part of my destiny. His Tau magazine brought me much joy and I am ever grateful to him for his constant encouragement. It greatly helped me to close the circle in order to show people previously unknown processes that Nature employs in her technology. Goethe was perhaps the only person who perceived these true processes of Nature. I quote:
All things into one are woven, each in each doth act and dwell
As cosmic forces, rising, falling, charging up this golden bell
With heaven-scented undulations, piercing Earth from powers sublime.
Harmonious all and all-resounding, fill they universe and time!
Amidst life's tides in raging motion I ebb and flood - I waft to and fro!
Birth and grave - eternal ocean, ever-moving, transient flow.
Such changing, vibrant animation - the very stuff of life - is mine,
Thus at the loom of time I sit and weave this living cloth divine.
How blossomingly I rejoice! All hail to the new!
All is born of water and upheld by water too!
Transpierced thus am I by beauty and by truth!
Oh great ocean, grant us thine eternal truth!
Wouldst thou not send clouds, nor bounteous streams endow,
Nor perfect the currents, nor rivers here and there bestow,
Then where would mountains be, and what of plains and world?
For thou alone it is that keeps this freshest life unfurled.
It was a blinded ox, a shy chamois and finally it was Goethe, the prince of poets, who gave me eyes to see.
 This refers to triboluminescence, which is the energy, expressed as light, given off by electrons
returning to their rest-orbits after having been excited due to the pressure arising when stones are
rubbed together. This emission of energy is a net gain to the overall energy-content of water. See
The Water Wizard, "Fire under Water". - Ed.
 Here 'original' also means form- or structure-originating or form- or structure-bestowing motion — Ed.
 This refers to the specific weight of the stones relative to the specific weight of the water, which equals 1 and is the base value for all definition of specific weight. In Viktor Schauberger's view it also refers to the difference between the weight of mattered imbued with life (specific weight) and dead matter (absolute weight). - Ed.