Lakes.
In considering the journey of water from the hilltops to the sea, we should take some account of those pauses which it makes on its way when for a time it falls into the basin of a lake. These arrests in the downward motion of water, which we term lakes, are exceedingly numerous; their proper discussion would, indeed, require a considerable volume. We shall here note only the more important of their features, those which are of interest to the general student.
The first and most noteworthy difference in lakes is that which separates the group of dead seas from the living basins of fresh water. When a stream attains a place where its waters have to expand into the lakelike form, the current moves in a slow manner, and the broad surface exposed to the air permits a large amount of evaporation. If the basin be large in proportion to the amount of the incurrent water, this evaporation may exceed the supply, and produce a sea with no outlet, such as we find in the Dead Sea of Judea, in that at Salt Lake, Utah, and in a host of other less important basins. If the rate of evaporation be yet greater in proportion to the flow, the lake may altogether dry away, and the river be evaporated before it attains the basin where it might accumulate. In that case the river is said to sink, but, in place of sinking into the earth, its waters really rise into the air. Many such sinks occur in the central portion of the Rocky Mountain district. It is important to note that the process of evaporation we are describing takes place in the case of all lakes, though only here and there is the air so dry that the evaporation prevents the basin from overflowing at the lowest point on its rim, forming a river which goes thence to the sea. Even in the case of the Great Lakes of North America a considerable part of the water which flows into them does not go to the St. Lawrence and thence to the sea. As long as the lake finds an outlet to the sea its waters contain but little more dissolved mineral matter than that we find in the rivers. But because all water which has been in contact with the earth has some dissolved mineral substances, while that which goes away by evaporation is pure water, a lake without an outlet gradually becomes so charged with these materials that it can hold no more in solution, but proceeds to lay them down in deposits of that compound substance which from its principal ingredient we name salt. The water of dead seas, because of the additional weight of the substances which it holds, is extraordinarily buoyant. The swimmer notes a difference in this regard in the waters of rivers and fresh-water lakes and those of the sea, due to this same cause. But in those of dead seas, saturated with saline materials, the human body can not sink as it does in the ordinary conditions of immersion. It is easy to understand how the salt deposits which are mined in many parts of the world have generally, if not in all cases, been formed in such dead seas.[5]
It is an interesting fact that almost all the known dead seas have in recent geological times been living lakes—that is, they poured over their brims. In the Cordilleras from the line between Canada and the United States to central Mexico there are several of these basins. All of those which have been studied show by their old shore lines that they were once brimful, and have only shrunk away in modern times. These conditions point to the conclusion that the rainfall in different regions varies greatly in the course of the geologic ages. Further confirmation of this is found in the fact that very great salt deposits exist on the coast of Louisiana and in northern Europe—regions in which the rainfall is now so great in proportion to the evaporation that dead seas are impossible.
Turning now to the question of how lake basins are formed, we note a great variety in the conditions which may bring about their construction. The greatest agent, or at least that which operates in the construction of the largest basins, are the irregular movements of the earth, due to the mountain-building forces. Where this work goes on on a large scale, basin-shaped depressions are inevitably formed. If all those which have existed remained, the large part of the lands would be covered by them. In most cases, however, the cutting action of the streams has been sufficient to bring the drainage channels down to the bottom of the trough, while the influx of sediments has served to further the work by filling up the cavities. Thus at the close of the Cretaceous period there was a chain of lakes extending along the eastern base of the Rocky Mountains, constituting fresh-water seas probably as large as the so-called Great Lakes of North America. But the rivers, by cutting down and tilling up, have long since obliterated these water areas. In other cases the tiltings of the continent, which sometimes oppose the flow of the streams, may for a time convert the upper part of a river basin which originally sloped gently toward the sea into a cavity. Several cases of this description occurred in New England in the closing stages of the Glacial period, when the ground rose up to the northward.
We have already noted the fact that the basin of a dead sea becomes in course of time the seat of extensive salt deposits. These may, indeed, attain a thickness of many hundred feet. If now in the later history of the country the tract of land with the salt beneath it were traversed by a stream, its underground waters may dissolve out the salt and in a way restore the basin to its original unfilled condition, though in the second state that of a living lake. It seems very probable that a portion at least of the areas of Lakes Ontario, Erie, and Huron may be due to this removal of ancient salt deposits, remains of which lie buried in the earth in the region bordering these basins.
By far the commonest cause of lake basins is found in the irregularities of the surface which are produced by the occupation of the country by glaciers. When these great sheets of ice lie over a land, they are in motion down the slopes on which they rest; they wear the bed rocks in a vigorous manner, cutting them down in proportion to their hardness. As these rocks generally vary in the resistance which they oppose to the ice, the result is that when the glacier passes away the surface no longer exhibits the continued down slope which the rivers develop, but is warped in a very complicated way. These depressions afford natural basins in which lakes gather; they may vary in extent from a few square feet to many square miles. When a glacier occupies a country, the melting ice deposits on the surface of the earth a vast quantity of rocky débris, which was contained in its mass. This detritus is irregularly accumulated; in part it is disposed in the form of moraines or rude mounds made at the margin of the glacier, in part as an irregular sheet, now thick, now thin, which covers the whole of the field over which the ice lay. The result of this action is the formation of innumerable pools, which continue to exist until the streams have cut channels through which their waters may drain away, or the basins have become filled with detritus imported from the surrounding country or by peat accumulations which the plants form in such places.
Doubtless more than nine tenths of all the lake basins, especially those of small size, which exist in the world are due to irregularities of the land surface which are brought about by glacial action. Although the greater part of these small basins have been obliterated since the ice left this country, the number still remaining of sufficient size to be marked on a good map is inconceivably great. In North America alone there are probably over a hundred and fifty thousand of these glacial lakes, although by far the greater part of those which existed when the glacial sheet disappeared have been obliterated.
Yet another interesting group of fresh-water lakes, or rather we should call them lakelets from their small size, owes its origin to the curious underground excavations or caverns which are formed in limestone countries. The water enters these caverns through what are termed "sink holes"—basins in the surface which slope gently toward a central opening through which the water flows into the depths below. The cups of the sink holes rarely exceed half a mile in diameter, and are usually much smaller. Their basins have been excavated by the solvent and cutting actions of the rain water which gathers in them to be discharged into the cavern below. It often happens that after a sink hole is formed some slight accident closes the downward-leading shaft, so that the basin holds water; thus in parts of the United States there are thousands of these nearly circular pools, which in certain districts, as in southern Kentucky, serve to vary the landscape in much the same manner as the glacial lakes of more northern countries.
Some of the most beautiful lakes in the world, though none more than a few miles in diameter, occupy the craters of extinct volcanoes. When for a time, or permanently, a volcano ceases to do its appointed work of pouring forth steam and molten rock from the depths of the earth, the pit in the centre of the cone gathers the rain water, forming a deep circular lake, which is walled round by the precipitous faces of the crater. If the volcano reawakens, the water which blocks its passage may be blown out in a moment, the discharge spreading in some cases to a great distance from the cone, to be accumulated again when the vent ceases to be open. The most beautiful of these volcanic lakes are to be found in the region to the north and south of Rome. The original seat of the Latin state was on the shores of one of these crater pools, south of the Eternal City. Lago Bolsena, which lies to the northward, and is one of the largest known basins of this nature, having a diameter of about eight miles, is a crater lake. The volcanic cone to which it belongs, though low, is of great size, showing that in its time of activity, which did not endure very long, this crater was the seat of mighty ejections. The noblest specimen of this group of basins is found in Crater Lake, Oregon, now contained in one of the national parks of the United States.
Inclosed bodies of water are formed in other ways than those described; the list above given includes all the important classes of action which produce these interesting features. We should now note the fact that, unlike the seas, the lakes are to be regarded as temporary features in the physiography of the land. One and all, they endure for but brief geologic time, for the reason that the streams work to destroy them by filling them with sediment and by carving out channels through which their waters drain away. The nature of this action can well be conceived by considering what will take place in the course of time in the Great Lakes of North America. As Niagara Falls cut back at the average rate of several feet a year, it will be but a brief geologic period before they begin to lower the waters of Lake Erie. It is very probable, indeed, that in twenty thousand years the waters of that basin will be to a great extent drained away. When this occurs, another fall or rapid will be produced in the channel which leads from Lake Huron to Lake Erie. This in turn will go through its process of retreat until the former expanse of waters disappears. The action will then be continued at the outlets of Lakes Michigan and Superior, and in time, but for the interposition of some actions which recreate these basins, their floors will be converted into dry land.
It is interesting to note that lakes owe in a manner the preservation of their basins to an action which they bring about on the waters that flow into them. These rivers or torrents commonly convey great quantities of sediment, which serve to rasp their beds and thus to lower their channels. In all but the smaller lakelets these turbid waters lay down all their sediment before they attain the outlet of the basin. Thus they flow away over the rim rock in a perfectly pure state—a state in which, as we have noted before, water has no capacity for abrading firm rock. Thus where the Niagara River passes from Lake Erie its clean water hardly affects the stone over which it flows. It only begins to do cutting work where it plunges down the precipice of the Falls and sets in motion the fragments which are constantly falling from that rocky face. These Falls could not have begun as they did on the margin of Lake Ontario except for the fact that when the Niagara River began to flow, as in relatively modern times, it found an old precipice on the margin of Lake Ontario, formed by the waves of the lake, down which the waters fell, and where they obtained cutting tools with which to undermine the steep which forms the Falls.
Many great lakes, particularly those which we have just been considering, have repeatedly changed their outlets, according as the surface of the land on which they lie has swayed up and down in various directions, or as glacial sheets have barred or unbarred the original outlets of the basins. Thus in the Laurentian Lakes above Ontario the geologist finds evidence that the drainage lines have again and again been changed. For a time during the Glacial period, when Lake Ontario and the valley of the St. Lawrence was possessed by the ice, the discharge was southward into the upper Mississippi or the Ohio. At a later stage channels were formed leading from Georgian Bay to the eastern part of Ontario. Yet later, when the last-named lake was bared, an ice dam appears to have remained in the St. Lawrence, which held back the waters to such a height that they discharged through the valley of the Mohawk into the Hudson. Furthermore, at some time before the Glacial period, we do not know just when, there appears to have been an old Niagara River, now filled with drift, which ran from Lake Erie to Ontario, a different channel from that occupied by the present stream.
The effects of lakes on the river systems with which they are connected is in many ways most important. Where they are of considerable extent, or where even small they are very numerous, they serve to retain the flood waters, delivering them slowly to the excurrent streams. In rising one foot a lake may store away more water than the river by its consequent rise at the point of outflow will carry away in many months, and this for the simple reason that the lake may be many hundred or even thousand times as wide as the stream. Moreover, as before noted, the sediment gathered by the stream above the level of the lake is deposited in its basin, and does not affect the lower reaches of the river. The result is that great rivers, such as drain from the Laurentian Lakes, flow clear water, are exempt from floods, are essentially without alluvial plains or terraces, and form no delta deposits. In all these features the St. Lawrence River affords a wonderful contrast to the Mississippi. Moreover, owing to the clear waters, though it has flowed for a long time, it has never been able to cut away the slight obstructions which form its rapids, barriers which probably would have been removed if its waters had been charged with sediment.
Muir Glacier, Alaska, showing crevasses and dust layer on surface of ice.
CHAPTER VI.
glaciers.
We have already noted the fact that the water in the clouds is very commonly in the frozen state; a large part of that fluid which is evaporated from the sea attains the solid form before it returns to the earth. Nevertheless, in descending, at least nine tenths of the precipitation returns to the fluid state, and does the kind of work which we have noted in our account of water. Where, however, the water arrives on the earth in the frozen condition, it enters on a rôle totally different from that followed by the fluid material.
Beginning its descent to the earth in a snowflake, the little mass falls slowly, so that when it comes against the earth the blow which it strikes is so slight that it does no effective work. In the state of snow, even in the separate flakes, the frozen water contains a relatively large amount of air. It is this air indeed, which, by dividing the ice into many flakes that reflect the light, gives it the white colour. This important point can be demonstrated by breaking transparent ice into small bits, when we perceive that it has the hue of snow. Much the same effect is given where glass is powdered, and for the same reason.
As the snowflakes accumulate layer on layer they imbed air between them, so that when the material falls in a feathery shape—say to the depth of a foot—more than nine tenths of the mass is taken up by the air-containing spaces. As these cells are very small, the circulation in them is slight, and so the layer becomes an admirable non-conductor, having this quality for the same reason that feathers have it—i.e., because the cells are small enough to prevent the circulation of the air, so that the heat which passes has to go by conduction, and all gases are very poor conductors. The result is that a snow coating is in effect an admirable blanket. When the sun shines upon it, much of the heat is reflected, and as the temperature does not penetrate it to any depth, only the superficial part is melted. This molten water takes up in the process of melting a great deal of heat, so that when it trickles down into the mass it readily refreezes. On the other hand, the heat going out from the earth, the store accumulated in its superficial parts in the last warm season, together with the small share which flows out from the earth's interior, is held in by this blanket, which it melts but slowly. Thus it comes about that in regions of long-enduring snowfall the ground, though frozen to the depth of a foot or more at the time when the accumulation took place, may be thawed out and so far warmed that the vegetation begins to grow before the protecting envelope of snow has melted away. Certain of the early flowers of high latitudes, indeed, begin to blossom beneath the mantle of finely divided ice.
In those parts of the earth which for the most part receive only a temporary coating of snow the effect of this covering is inconsiderable. The snow water is yielded to the earth, from which it has helped to withdraw the frost, so that in the springtime, the growing season of plants, the ground contains an ample store of moisture for their development. Where the snowfall accumulates to a great thickness, especially where it lodges in forests, the influence of the icy covering is somewhat to protract the winter and thus to abbreviate the growing season.
Where snow rests upon a steep slope, and gathers to the depth of several feet, it begins to creep slowly down the declivity in a manner which we may often note on house roofs. This motion is favoured by the gradual though incomplete melting of the flakes as the heat penetrates the mass. Making a section through a mass of snow which has accumulated in many successive falls, we note that the top may still have the flaky character, but that as we go down the flakes are replaced by adherent shotlike bodies, which have arisen from the partial melting and gathering to their centres of the original expanded crystalline bits. In this process of change the mass can move particle by particle in the direction in which gravity impels it. The energy of its motion, however, is slight, yet it can urge loose stones and forest waste down hill. Sometimes, as in the cemetery at Augusta, Me., where stone monuments or other structures, such as iron railings, are entangled in the moving mass, it may break them off and convey them a little distance down the slope.
So long as the summer sun melts the winter's snow, even if the ground be bare but for a day, the rôle of action accomplished by the snowfall is of little geological consequence. When it happens that a portion of the deposit holds through the summer, the region enters on the glacial state, and its conditions undergo a great revolution, the consequences of which are so momentous that we shall have to trace them in some detail. Fortunately, the considerations which are necessary are not recondite, and all the facts are of an extremely picturesque nature.
Taking such a region as New England, where all the earth is life-bearing in the summer season, and where the glacial period of the winter continues but for a short time, we find that here and there on the high mountains the snow endures throughout most of the summer, but that all parts of the surface have a season when life springs into activity. On the top of Mount Washington, in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, in a cleft known as Tuckerman's Ravine, where the deposit accumulates to a great depth, the snow-ice remains until midsummer. It is, indeed, evident that a very slight change in the climatal conditions of this locality would establish a permanent accumulation of frozen water upon the summit of the mountain. If the crest were lifted a thousand feet higher, without any general change in the heat or rainfall of the district, this effect would be produced. If with the same amount of rainfall as now comes to the earth in that region more of it fell as snow, a like condition would be established. Furthermore, with an increase of rainfall to something like double that which now descends the snow bore the same proportion to the precipitation which it does at present, we should almost certainly have the peak above the permanent snow line, that level below which all the winter's fall melts away. These propositions are stated with some care, for the reason that the student should perceive how delicate may be—indeed, commonly is—the balance of forces which make the difference between a seasonal and a perennial snow covering.
As soon as the snow outlasts the summer, the region which it occupies is sterilized to life. From the time the snow begins to hold over the warm period until it finally disappears, that field has to be reckoned out of the habitable earth, not only to man, but to the lowliest organisms.[6]
If the snow in a glaciated region lay where it fell, the result would be a constant elevation of the deposit year by year in proportion to the annual excess of deposition over the melting or evaporation of the material. But no sooner does the deposit attain any considerable thickness than it begins to move in the directions of least resistance, in accordance with laws which the students of glaciers are just beginning to discern. In small part this motion is accomplished by avalanches or snow slides, phenomena which are in a way important, and therefore merit description. Immediately after a heavy snowfall, in regions where the slopes are steep, it often happens that the deposit which at first clung to the surface on which it lay becomes so heavy that it tends to slide down the slope; a trifling action, the slipping, indeed, of a single flake, may begin the movement, which at first is gradual and only involves a little of the snow. Gathering velocity, and with the materials heaped together from the junction of that already in motion with that about to be moved, the avalanche in sliding a few hundred feet down the slope may become a deep stream of snow-ice, moving with great celerity. At this stage it begins to break off masses of ice from the glaciers over which it may flow, or even to move large stones. Armed with these, it rends the underlying earth. After it has flowed a mile it may have taken up so much earth and material that it appears like a river of mud. Owing to the fact that the energy which bears it downward is through friction converted into heat, a partial melting of the mass may take place, which converts it into what we call slush, or a mixture of snow and water. Finally, the torrent is precipitated into the bottom of a valley, where in time the frozen water melts away, leaving only the stony matter which it bore as a monument to show the termination of its flow.
It was the good fortune of the writer to see in the Swiss Oberland one very great avalanche, which came from the high country through a descent of several thousand feet to the surface of the Upper Grindelwald Glacier. The first sign of the action was a vague tremor of the air, like that of a great organ pipe when it begins to vibrate, but before the pulsations come swiftly enough to make an audible note. It was impossible to tell when this tremor came, but the wary guide, noting it before his charge could perceive anything unusual, made haste for the middle of the glacier. The vibration swelled to a roar, but the seat of the sound amid the echoing cliffs was indeterminable. Finally, from a valley high up on the southern face of the glacier, there leaped forth first a great stone, which sprang with successive rebounds to the floor of ice. Then in succession other stones and masses of ice which had outrun the flood came thicker and thicker, until at the end of about thirty seconds the steep front of the avalanche appeared like a swift-moving wall. Attaining the cliffs, it shot forth as a great cataract, which during the continuance of the flow—which lasted for several minutes—heaped a great mound of commingled stones and ice upon the surface of the glacier. The mass thus brought down the steep was estimated at about three thousand cubic yards, of which probably the fiftieth part was rock material. An avalanche of this volume is unusual, and the proportion of stony matter borne down exceptionally great; but by these sudden motions of the frozen water a large part of the snow deposited above the zone of complete melting is taken to the lower valleys, where it may disappear in the summer season, and much of the erosion accomplished in the mountains is brought about by these falls.
In all Alpine regions avalanches are among the most dreaded accidents. Their occurrence, however, being dependent upon the shape of the surface, it is generally possible to determine in an accurate way the liability of their happening in any particular field. The Swiss take precaution to protect themselves from their ravages as other folk do to procure immunity from floods. Thus the authorities of many of the mountain hamlets maintain extensive forests on the sides of the villages whence the downfall may be expected, experience having shown that there is no other means so well calculated to break the blow which these great snowfalls can deliver, as thick-set trees which, though they are broken down for some distance, gradually arrest the stream.
As long as the region occupied by permanent snow is limited to sharp mountain peaks, relief by the precipitation of large masses to the level below the snow line is easily accomplished, but manifestly this kind of a discharge can only be effective from a very small field. Where the relief is not brought about by these tumbles of snow, another mode of gravitative action accomplishes the result, though in a more roundabout way, through the mechanism of glaciers.
We have already noted the fact that the winter's snow upon our hillsides undergoes a movement in the direction of the slope. What we have now to describe in a rather long story concerning glaciers rests upon movements of the same nature, though they are in certain features peculiarly dependent on the continuity of the action from year to year. It is desirable, however, that the student should see that there is at the foundation no more mystery in glacial motion than there is in the gradual descent of the snow after it has lain a week on a hillside. It is only in the scale and continuity of the action that the greatest glacial envelope exceeds those of our temporary winters—in fact, whenever the snow falls the earth it covers enters upon an ice period which differs only in degree from that from which our hemisphere is just escaping.
Where the reader is so fortunate as to be able to visit a region of glaciers, he had best begin his study of their majestic phenomena by ascending to those upper realms where the snow accumulates from year to year. He will there find the natural irregularities of the rock surface in a measure evened over by a vast sheet of snow, from which only the summits of the greater mountains rise. He may soon satisfy himself that this sheet is of great depth, for here and there it is intersected by profound crevices. If the visit is made in the season when snow falls, which is commonly during most of the year, he may observe, as before noted in our winter's snow, that the deposit, though at first flaky, attains at a short distance below the surface a somewhat granular character, though the shotlike grains fall apart when disturbed. Yet deeper, ordinarily a few feet below the surface, these granules are more or less cemented together; the mass thus loses the quality of snow, and begins to appear like a whitish ice. Looking down one of the crevices, where the light penetrates to the depth of a hundred feet or more, he may see that the bluish hue somewhat increases with the depth. A trace of this colour is often visible even in the surface snow on the glacier, and sometimes also in our ordinary winter fields. In a hole made with a stick a foot or more in depth a faint cerulean glimmer may generally be discerned; but the increased blueness of the ice as we go down is conspicuous, and readily leads us to the conclusion that the air, to which, as we before noted, the whiteness of the snow is due, is working out of the mass as the process of compaction goes on. In a glacial district this snow mass above the melting line is called the névé.
Remembering that the excess of snow beyond the melting in a névé district amounts, it may be, to some feet of material each year, we easily come to the conclusion that the mass works down the slope in the manner which it does even where the coating is impermanent. This supposition is easily confirmed: by observing the field we find that the sheet is everywhere drawing away from the cliffs, leaving a deep fissure between the névé and the precipices. This crevice is called by the German-Swiss guides the Bergschrund. Passage over it is often one of the most difficult feats to accomplish which the Alpine explorer has to undertake. In fact, the very appearance of the surface, which is that of a river with continuous down slopes, is sufficient evidence that the mass is slowly flowing toward the valleys. Following it down, we almost always come to a place where it passes from the upper valleys to the deeper gorges which pierce the skirts of the mountain. In going over this projection the mass of snow-ice breaks to pieces, forming a crowd of blocks which march down the slope with much more speed than they journeyed when united in the higher-lying fields. In this condition and in this part of the movement the snow-ice forms what are called the seracs, or curds, as the word means in the French-Swiss dialect. Slipping and tumbling down the steep slope on which the seracs develop, the ice becomes broken into bits, often of small size. These fragments are quickly reknit into the body of ice, which we shall hereafter term the glacier, and in this process the expulsion of the air goes on more rapidly than before, and the mass assumes a more transparent icelike quality.
The action of the ice in the pressures and strains to which it is subjected in joining the main glacier and in the further part of its course demand for their understanding a revision of those notions as to rigidity and plasticity which we derive from our common experience with objects. It is hard to believe that ice can be moulded by pressure into any shape without fracturing, provided the motion is slowly effected, while at the same time it is as brittle as ice to a sudden blow. We see, however, a similar instance of contrasted properties in the confection known as molasses candy, a stick of which may be indefinitely bent if the flexure is slowly made, but will fly to pieces like glass if sharply struck. Ice differs from the sugary substance in many ways; especially we should note that while it may be squeezed into any form, it can not be drawn out, but fractures on the application of a very slight tension. The conditions of its movement we will inquire into further on, when we have seen more of its action.
Entering on the lower part of its course, that where it flows into the region below the snow line, the ice stream is now confined between the walls of the valley, a channel which in most cases has been shaped before the ice time, by a mountain torrent, or perhaps by a slower flowing river. In this part of its course the likeness of a glacial stream to one of fluid water is manifest. We see that it twists with the turn of the gorge, widens where the confining walls are far apart, and narrows where the space is constricted. Although the surface is here and there broken by fractures, it is evident that the movement of the frozen current, though slow, is tolerably free. By placing stakes in a row across the axis of a glacier, and observing their movement from day to day, or even from hour to hour if a good theodolite is used for the purpose, we note that the movement of the stream is fastest in the middle parts, as in the case of a river, and that it slows toward either shore, though it often happens, as in a stream of molten water, that the speediest part of the current is near one side. Further observations have indicated that the movement is most rapid on the surface and least at the bottom, in which the stream is also riverlike. It is evident, in a word, that though the ice is not fluid in strict sense, the bits of which it is made up move in substantially the manner of fluids—that is, they freely slip over each other. We will now turn our attention to some important features of a detailed sort which glaciers exhibit.
If we visit a glacier during the part of the year when the winter snows are upon it, it may appear to have a very uninterrupted surface. But as the summer heat advances, the mask of the winter coating goes away, and we may then see the structure of the ice. First of all we note in all valley glaciers such as we are observing that the stream is overlaid by a quantity of rocky waste, the greater part of which has come down with the avalanches in the manner before described, though a small part may have been worn from the bed over which the ice flows. In many glaciers, particularly as we approach their termination, this sheet of earth and rock materials often covers the ice so completely that the novice in such regions finds it difficult to believe that the ice is under his feet. If the explorer is minded to take the rough scramble, he can often walk for miles on these masses of stone without seeing, much less setting foot on any frozen water. In some of the Alaskan glaciers this coating may bear a forest growth. In general, this material, which is called moraine, is distributed in bands parallel to the sides of the glaciers, and the strips may amount to a half dozen or more. Those on the sides of the ice have evidently been derived from the precipices which they have passed. Those in the middle have arisen from the union of the moraines formed in two or more tributary valleys.
Fig. 12.—Map of glaciers and moraines near Mont Blanc.
Where the avalanches fall most plentifully, the stones lie buried with the snow, and only melt out when the stream attains the region where the annual waste of its surface exceeds the snowfall. In this section we can see how the progressive melting gradually brings the rocky débris into plain view. Here and there we will find a boulder perched on a pedestal of ice, which indicates a recent down-wearing of the field. A frequent sound in these regions arises from the tumble of the stones from their pedestals or the slipping of the masses from the sharp ridge which is formed by the protection given to the ice through the thick coating of detritus on its surface. These movements of the moraines often distribute their waste over the glacier, so that in its lower part we can no longer trace the contributions from the several valleys, the whole area being covered by the débris. At the end of the ice stream, where its forward motion is finally overcome by the warmth which it encounters, it leaves in a rude heap, extending often like a wall across the valley, all the coarse fragments which it conveys. This accumulation, composed of all the lateral moraines which have gathered on the ice by the fall of avalanches, is called the terminal moraine. As the ice stream itself shrinks, a portion of the detritus next the boundary wall is apt to be left clinging against those slopes. It is from the presence of these heaps in valleys now abandoned by glaciers that we obtain some information as to the former greater extent of glacial action.
The next most noticeable feature is the crevasse. These fractures often exist in very great numbers, and constitute a formidable barrier in the explorer's way. The greater part of these ruptures below the serac zone run from the sides of the stream toward the centre without attaining that region. These are commonly pointed up stream; their formation is due to the fact that, owing to the swifter motion in the central parts of the stream, the ice in that section draws away from the material which is moving more slowly next the shore. As before noted, these ice fractures when drawn out naturally form fissures at right angles to the direction of the strain. In the middle portions of the ice other fissures form, though more rarely, which appear to depend on local strains brought about through the irregularity of the surface over which the ice is flowing.
If the observer is fortunate, he may in his journey over the glacier have a chance to see and hear what goes on when crevasses are formed. First he will hear a deep, booming sound beneath his feet, which merges into a more splintering note as the crevice, which begins at the bottom or in the distance, comes upward or toward him. When the sound is over, he may not be able to see a trace of the fracture, which at first is very narrow. But if the break intersect any of the numerous shallow pools which in a warm summer's day are apt to cover a large part of the surface, he may note a line of bubbles rushing up through the water, marking the escape of the air from the glacier, some remnant of that which is imprisoned in the original snow. Even where this indication is wanting, he can sometimes trace the crevice by the hissing sound of the air streams where they issue from the ice. If he will take time to note what goes on, he can usually in an hour or two behold the first invisible crack widen until it may be half an inch across. He may see how the surface water hastens down the opening, a little river system being developed on the surface of the ice as the streams make their way to one or more points of descent. In doing this work they excavate a shaft which often becomes many feet in diameter, down which their waters thunder to the base of the glacier. This well-like opening is called a moulin, or mill, a name which, as we shall see, is well deserved from the work which falling waters accomplish. Although the institution of the moulin shaft depends upon the formation of a crevice, it often happens that as the ice moves farther on its journey its walls are again thrust together, soldered in the manner peculiar to ice, so that no trace of the rupture remains except the shaft which it permitted to form. Like everything else in the glacier, the moulin slowly moves down the slope, and remains open as long as it is the seat of descending waters produced by the summer melting. When it ceases to be kept open from the summer, its walls are squeezed together in the fashion that the crevices are closed.
Forming here and there, and generally in considerable numbers, the crevices of a glacier entrap a good deal of the morainal débris, which falls through them to the bottom of the glacier. Smaller bits are washed into the moulin, by the streams arising from the melting ice, which is brought about by the warm sun of the summer, and particularly by the warm rains of that season. On those glaciers where, owing to the irregularity of the bottom over which the ice flows, these fractures are very numerous, it may happen that all the detritus brought upon the surface of the glacier by avalanches finds its way to the floor of the ice.
Although it is difficult to learn what is going on at the under surface of the glacier, it is possible directly and indirectly to ascertain much concerning the peculiar and important work which is there done. The intrepid explorer may work his way in through the lateral fissures, and even with care safely descend some of the fissures which penetrate the central parts of a shallow ice stream. There, it may be at the depth of a hundred feet or more, he will find a quantity of stones, some of which may be in size like to a small house held in the body of the ice, but with one side resting upon the bed rock. He may be so fortunate as to see the stone actually in process of cutting a groove in the bed rock as it is urged forward by the motion of the glacier. The cutting is not altogether in the fixed material, for the boulder itself is also worn and scored in the work. Smaller pebbles are caught in the space between the erratic and the motionless rock and ground to bits. If in his explorations the student finds his way to the part of the floor on which the waters of a moulin fall, he may have a chance to observe how the stones set in motion serve to cut the bed rock, forming elongated potholes much as in the case of ordinary waterfalls, or at the base of those shafts which afford the beginnings of limestone caverns.
The best way to penetrate beneath the glacier is through the arch of the stream which always flows from the terminal face of the ice river. Even in winter time every large glacier discharges at its end a considerable brook, the waters of which have been melted from the ice in small part by the outflow of the earth's heat; mainly, however, by the warmth produced in the friction of the ice on itself and on its bottom—in other words, by the conversion of that energy of position, of which we have often to speak, into heat. In the summer time this subglacial stream is swollen by the surface waters descending through the crevices and the moulins which come from them, so that the outflow often forms a considerable river, and thus excavates in the ice a large or at least a long cavern, the base of which is the bed rock. In the autumn, when the superficial melting ceases, this gallery can often be penetrated for a considerable distance, and affords an excellent way to the secrets of the under ice. The observer may here see quantities of the rock material held in the grip of the ice, and forced to a rude journey over the bare foundation stones. Now and then he may find the glacial mass in large measure made up of stones, the admixture extending many feet above the bottom of the cavern, perhaps to the very top of the arch. He may perchance find that these stones are crushing each other where they are in contact. The result will be brought about by the difference in the rate of advance of the ice, which moves the faster the higher it is above the surface over which it drags, and thus forces the stones on one level over those below. Where the waters of the subglacial stream have swept the bed rock clean of débris its surface is scored, grooved, and here and there polished in a manner which is accomplished only by ice action, though some likeness to it is afforded where stones have been swept over for ages by blowing sand. Here and there, often in a way which interrupts the cavern journey, the shrunken stream, unable to carry forward the débris, deposits the material in the chamber, sometimes filling the arch so completely that the waters are forced to make a detour. This action is particularly interesting, for the reason that in regions whence glaciers have disappeared the deposits formed in the old ice arches often afford singularly perfect moulds of those caverns which were produced by the ancient subglacial streams. These moulds are termed eskers.
If the observer be attentive, he will note the fact that the waters emerging from beneath the considerable glacier are very much charged with mud. If he will take a glass of the water at the point of escape, he will often find, on permitting it to settle, that the sediment amounts to as much as one twentieth of the volume. While the greater part of this detritus will descend to the bottom of the vessel in the course of a day, a portion of it does not thus fall. He may also note that this mud is not of the yellowish hue which he is accustomed to behold in the materials laid down by ordinary rivers, but has a whitish colour. Further study will reveal the fact that the difference is due to the lack of oxidation in the case of the glacial detritus. River muds forming slowly and during long-continued exposure to the action of the air have their contained iron much oxidized, which gives them a part of their darkened appearance. Moreover, they are somewhat coloured with decayed vegetable matter. The waste from beneath the glacier has been quickly separated from the bed rock, all the faces of the grains are freshly fractured, and there is no admixture of organic matter. The faces of the particles thus reflect light in substantially the same way as powdered glass or pulverized ice, and consequently appear white.
A little observation will show the student that this very muddy character of waters emerging from beneath the glacier is essentially peculiar to such streams as we have described. Ascending any of the principal valleys of Switzerland, he may note that some of the streams flow waters which carry little sediment even in times when they are much swollen, while others at all seasons have the whitish colour. A little further exploration, or the use of a good map, will show him that the pellucid streams receive no contributions of glacial water, while those which look as if they were charged with milk come, in part at least, from the ice arches. From some studies which the writer has made in Swiss valleys, it appears that the amount of erosion accomplished on equal areas of similar rock by the descent of the waters in the form of a glacier or in that of ordinary torrents differs greatly. Moving in the form of ice, or in the state of ice-confined streams, the mass of water applies very many times as much of its energy of position to grinding and bearing away the rocks as is accomplished where the water descends in its fluid state.
The effect of the intense ice action above noted is rapidly to wear away the rocks of the valley in which the glacier is situated. This work is done not only in a larger measure but in a different way from that accomplished by torrents. In the case of the latter, the stream bed is embarrassed by the rubbish which comes into it; only here and there can it attack the bed rock by forcing the stones over its surface. Only in a few days of heavy rain each year is its work at all effective; the greater part of the energy of position of its waters is expended in the endless twistings and turnings of its stream, which result only in the development of heat which flies away into the atmosphere. In the ice stream, owing to its slow movement and to the detritus which it forces along the bottom, a vastly greater part of the energy which impels it down the slope is applied to rock cutting. None of the boulders, even if they are yards in diameter, obstruct its motion; small and great alike are to it good instruments wherewith to attack the bed rocks. The fragments are never left to waste by atmospheric decay, but are to a very great extent used up in mechanical work, while the most of the detritus which comes to a torrent is left in a coarse state when it is delivered to the stream; the larger part of that which the glacier transports is worn out in its journey. To a great extent it is used up in attacking the bed rock. In most cases the débris in the terminal moraine is evidently but a small part of what entered the ice during its journey from the uplands; the greater part has been worn out in the rude experiences to which it has been subjected.
It is evident that even in the regions now most extensively occupied by glaciers the drainage systems have been shaped by the movement of ordinary streams—in other words, ice action is almost everywhere, even in the regions about the poles, an incidental feature in the work of water, coming in only to modify the topography, which is mainly moulded by the action of fluid water. When, owing to climatal changes, a valley such as those of the Alps is occupied by a glacial stream, the new current proceeds at once, according to its evident needs, to modify the shape of its channel. An ordinary torrent, because of the swiftness of its motion, which may, in general, be estimated at from three to five miles an hour, can convey away the precipitation over a very narrow bed. Therefore its channel is usually not a hundredth part as wide as the gorge or valley in which it lies. But when the discharge takes place by a glacier, the speed of which rarely exceeds four or five feet a day, the ice stream because of its slow motion has to fill the trough from side to side, it has to be some thousand times as deep and wide as the torrent. The result is that as soon as the glacial condition arises in a country the ice streams proceed to change the old V-shaped torrent beds into those which have a broad U-like form. The practised eye can in a way judge how long a valley has been subjected to glacial action by the extent to which it has been widened by this process.
In the valleys of Switzerland and other mountain districts which have been attentively studied it is evident that glacial action has played a considerable part in determining their forms. But the work has been limited to that part of the basin in which the ice is abundantly provided with cutting tools in the stone which have found their way to the base of the stream. In the region of the névé, where the contributions of rocky matter to the surface of the deposit made from the few bare cliffs which rise above the sheet of snow is small, the snow-ice does no cutting of any consequence. Where it passes over the steep at the head of the deep valley into which it drains, and is riven into the seracs, such stony matter as it may have gathered is allowed to fall to the bottom, and so comes into a position where it may do effective work. From this serac section downward the now distinct ice river, being in general below the snow line, has everywhere cliffs, on either side from which the contributions of rock material are abundant. Hence this part of the glacier, though it is the wasting portion of its length, does all the cutting work of any consequence which is performed. It is there that the underrunning streams become charged with sediment, which, as we have noted, they bear in surprising quantities, and it is therefore in this section of the valley that the impress of the ice work is the strongest. Its effect is not only to widen the valley and deepen it, but also to advance the deep section farther up the stream and its tributaries. The step in the stream beds which we find at the seracs appears to mark the point in the course of the glacier where, owing to the falling of stones to its base, as well as to its swifter movements and the firmer state of the ice, it does effective wearing.
There are many other features connected with glaciers which richly repay the study of those who have a mind to explore in the manner of the physicist interested in ice actions the difficult problems which they afford; but as these matters are not important from the point of view of this work, no mention of them will here be made. We will now turn our attention to that other group of glaciers commonly termed continental, which now exist about either pole, and which at various times in the earth's history have extended far toward the equator, mantling over vast extents of land and shallow sea. The difference between the ice streams of the mountains and those which we term continental depends solely on the areas of the fields and the depth of the accumulation. In an ordinary Alpine region the névé districts, where the snow gathers, are relatively small. Owing to the rather steep slopes, the frozen water is rapidly discharged into the lower valleys, where it melts away. Both in the névé and in the distinct glacier of the lower grounds there are, particularly in the latter, projecting peaks, from which quantities of stone are brought down by avalanches or in ordinary rock falls, so that the ice is abundantly supplied with cutting tools, which work from its surface down to its depths.
As the glacial accumulation grows in depth there are fewer peaks emerging from it, and the streams which it feeds rise the higher until they mantle over the divides between the valleys. Thus by imperceptible stages valley glaciers pass to the larger form, usually but incorrectly termed continental. We can, indeed, in going from the mountains in the tropics to the poles, note every step in this transition, until in Greenland we attain the greatest ice mass in the world, unless that about the southern pole be more extensive. In the Greenland glacier the ice sheet covers a vast extent of what is probably a mountain country, which is certainly of this nature in the southern part of the island, where alone we find portions of the earth not completely covered by the deep envelope. Thanks to the labours of certain hardy explorers, among whom Nansen deserves the foremost place, we now know something as to the conditions of this vast ice field, for it has been crossed from shore to shore. The results of these studies are most interesting, for they afford us a clew as to the conditions which prevail over a large part of the earth during the Glacial period from which the planet is just escaping, and in the earlier ages when glaciation was likewise extensive. We shall therefore consider in a somewhat detailed way the features which the Greenland glacier presents.
Starting from the eastern shore of that land, if we may thus term a region which presents itself mainly in the form of ice, we find next the shore a coast line not completely covered with ice and snow, but here and there exhibiting peaks which indicate that if the frozen mantle were removed the country would appear deeply intersected with fiords in the manner exhibited in the regions to the south of Greenland or the Scandinavian peninsula. The ice comes down to the sea through the valleys, often facing the ocean for great distances with its frozen cliffs. Entering on this seaward portion of the glacier, the observer finds that for some distance from the coast line the ice is more or less rifted with crevices, the formation of which is doubtless due to irregularities of the rock bottom over which it moves. These ruptures are so frequent that for some miles back it is very difficult to find a safe way. Finally, however, a point is attained where these breaks rather suddenly disappear, and thence inward the ice rises at the rate of upward slope of a few feet to the mile in a broad, nearly smooth incline. In the central portion of the region for a considerable part of the territory the ice has very little slope. Thence it declines toward the other shore, exhibiting the same features as were found on the eastern versant until near the coast, when again the surface is beset with crevices which continue to the margin of the sea.
Although the explorations of the central field of Greenland are as yet incomplete, several of these excursions into or across the interior have been made, and the identity of the observations is such that we can safely assume the whole region to be of one type. We can furthermore run no risk in assuming that what we find in Greenland, at least so far as the unbroken nature of the central ice field is concerned, is what must exist in every land where the glacial envelope becomes very deep. In Greenland it seems likely that the depth of the ice is on the average more than half a mile, and in the central part of the realm the sheet may well have a much greater profundity; it may be nearly a mile deep. The most striking feature—that of a vast unbroken expanse, bordered by a region where the ice is ruptured—is traceable wherever very extensive and presumably deep deposits of ice have been examined. As we shall see hereafter, these features teach us much as to the conditions of glacial action—a matter which we shall have to examine after we have completed our general survey as to the changes which occur during glacial periods.
In the present state of that wonderful complex of actions which we term climate, glaciers are everywhere, so far as our observations enable us to judge, generally in process of decrease. In Switzerland, although the ancients even in Roman days were in contact with the ice, they were so unobservant that they did not even remark that the ice was in motion. Only during the last two centuries have we any observations of a historic sort which are of value to the geologist. Fortunately, however, the signs written on the rock tell the story, except for its measurement in terms of years, as clearly as any records could give it. From this testimony of the rocks we perceive that in the geological yesterday, though it may have been some tens of thousands of years ago, the Swiss glaciers, vastly thickened, and with their horizontal area immensely expanded, stretched over the Alpine country, so that only here and there did any of the sharper peaks rise above the surface. These vast glaciers, almost continually united on their margins, extended so far that every portion of what is now the Swiss Republic was covered by them. Their front lay on the southern lowlands of Germany, on the Jura district of France; on the south, it stretched across the valley of the Po as far as near Milan. We know this old ice front by the accumulations of rock débris which were brought to it from the interior of the mountain realm. We can recognise the peculiar kinds of stone, and with perfect certainty trace them to the bed rock whence they were riven. Moreover, we can follow back through the same evidence the stages of retreat of the glaciers, until they lost their broad continental character and assumed something like their present valley form. Up the valley of any of the great rivers, as, for instance, that of the Rhône above the lake of Geneva, we note successive terminal moraines which clearly indicate stages in the retreat of the ice when for a time it ceased to go backward, or even made a slight temporary readvance. It is easily seen that on such occasions the stones carried to the ice front would be accumulated in a heap, while during the time when day by day the glacier was retreating the rock waste would be left broadcast over the valley.
As we go up from the course of the glacial streams we note that the successive moraines have their materials in a progressively less decayed state. Far away from the heap now forming, and in proportion to the distance, the stones have in a measure rotted, and the heaps which they compose are often covered with soil and occupied by forests. Within a few miles of the ice front the stones still have a fresh aspect. When we arrive within, say, half a mile of the moraine now building, we come to the part of the glacial retreat of which we have some written or traditional account. This is in general to the effect that the wasting of the glaciers is going on in this century as it went on in the past. Occasionally periods of heavy snow would refresh the ice streams, so that for a little time they pushed their fronts farther down the valley. The writer has seen during one of these temporary advances the interesting spectacle of ice destroying and overturning the soil of a small field which had been planted in grain.
It should be noted that these temporary advances of the ice are not due to the snowfall of the winter or winters immediately preceding the forward movement. So slow is the journey of the ice from the névé field to the end of a long glacier that it may require centuries for the store accumulated in the uplands to affect the terminal portion of the stream. We know that the bodies of the unhappy men who have been lost in the crevices of the glacier are borne forward at a uniform and tolerably computable rate until they emerge at the front, where the ice melts away. In at least one case the remains have appeared after many years in the débris which is contributed to the moraine. On account of this slow feeding of the glacial stream, we naturally may expect to find, as we do, in fact, that a great snowfall of many years ago, and likewise a period when the winter's contribution has been slight, would influence the position of the terminal point of the ice stream at different times, according to its length. If the length of the flow be five miles, it may require twenty or thirty years for the effect to be evident; while if the stream be ten miles long, the influence may not be noted in less than threescore years. Thus it comes about that at the present time in the same glacial district some streams may be advancing while others are receding, though, on the whole, the ice is generally in process of shrinkage. If the present rate of retreat should be maintained, it seems certain that at the end of three centuries the Swiss glaciers as a whole will not have anything like their present area, and many of the smaller streams will entirely disappear.
Following the method of the illustrious Louis Agassiz, who first attentively traced the evidence which shows the geologically recent great extension of glaciers by studying the evidence of the action in fields they no longer occupy, geologists have now inspected a large part of the land areas with a view to finding the proofs of such ice work. So far as these indications are concerned, the indications which they have had to trace are generally of a very unmistakable character. Rarely, indeed, does a skilled student of such phenomena have to search in any region for more than a day before he obtains indubitable evidence which will enable him to determine whether or not the field has recently been occupied by an enduring ice sheet—one which survives the summer season and therefore deserves the name of glacier. The indications which he has to consider consist in the direction and manner in which the surface materials have been carried, the physical conditions of these materials, the shape of the surface of the underlying rock as regards its general contour, and the presence or absence of scratches and groovings on its surface. As these records of ice action are of first importance in dealing with this problem, and as they afford excellent subjects for the study of those who dwell in glaciated regions, we shall note them in some detail.
The geologist recognises several ways in which materials may be transported on the surface of the earth. They may be cast forth by volcanoes, making their journey by being shot through the air, or by flowing in lava streams; it is always easy at a glance, save in very rare instances, to determine whether fragments have thus been conveyed. Again, the detritus may be moved by the wind; this action is limited; it only affects dust, sand, and very small pebbles, and is easily discriminated. The carriage may be effected by river or marine currents; here, again, the size of the fragments moved is small, and the order of their arrangement distinctly traceable. The fragments may be conveyed by ice rafts; here, too, the observer can usually limit the probabilities he has to consider by ascertaining, as he can generally do, whether the region which he is observing has been below a sea or lake. In a word, the before-mentioned agents of transportation are of somewhat exceptional influence, and in most cases can, as explanations of rock transportation, be readily excluded. When, therefore, the geologist finds a country abundantly covered with sand, pebbles, and boulders arranged in an irregular way, he has generally only to inquire whether the material has been carried by rivers or by glaciers. This discrimination can be quickly and critically effected. In the first place, he notes that rivers only in their torrent sections can carry large fragments of rock, and that in all cases the fragments move down hill. Further, that where deposits are formed, they have more or less the form of alluvial deposits. If now the observations show that the rock waste occupying the surface of any region has been carried up hill and down, across the valleys, particularly if there are here and there traces of frontal moraines, the geologist is entitled to suppose—he may, indeed, be sure—that the carriage has been effected by a glacial sheet.
Important corroborative evidence of ice action is generally to be found by inspecting the bed rock below the detritus, which indicates glacial action. Even if it be somewhat decayed, as is apt to be the case where the ice sheet long since passed away, the bed rock is likely to have a warped surface; it is cast into ridges and furrows of a broad, flowing aspect, such as liquid water never produces, which, indeed, can only be created by an ice sheet moving over the surface, cutting its bed in proportion to the hardness of the material. Furthermore, if the bed rock have a firm texture, and be not too much decayed, we almost always find upon it grooves or scratches, channels carved by the stones embedded in the body of the ice, and drawn by its motion over the fixed material. Thus the proof of glacial extension in the last ice epoch is made so clear that accurate maps can be prepared showing the realm of its action. This task is as yet incomplete, although it is already far advanced.
While the study of glaciers began in Europe, inquiries concerning their ancient extension have been carried further and with more accuracy in North America than in any other part of the world. We may therefore well begin our description of the limits of the ice sheets with this continent. Imagining a seafarer to have approached America by the North Atlantic, as did the Scandinavians, and that his voyage came perhaps a hundred thousand years or more before that of Leif Ericsson, he would have found an ice front long before he attained the present shores of the land. This front may have extended from south of Greenland, off the shores of the present Grand Banks of Newfoundland, thence and westward to central or southern New Jersey. This cliff of ice was formed by a sheet which lay on the bottom of the sea. On the New Jersey coast the ice wall left the sea and entered on the body of the continent. We will now suppose that the explorer, animated with the valiant scientific spirit which leads the men of our day to seek the poles, undertook a land journey along the ice front across the continent. From the New Jersey coast the traveller would have passed through central Pennsylvania, where, although there probably detached outlying glaciers lying to the southward as far as central Virginia, the main front extended westward into the Ohio Valley. In southern Ohio a tongue of the ice projected southwardly until it crossed the Ohio River, where Cincinnati now lies, extending a few miles to the southward of the stream. Thence it deflected northwardly, crossing the Mississippi, and again the Missouri, with a tongue or lobe which went far southward in that State. Then again turning to the northwest, it followed in general the northern part of the Missouri basin until it came to within sight of the Rocky Mountains. There the ice front of the main glacier followed the trend of the mountains at some distance from their face for an unknown extent to the northward. In the Cordilleras, as far south as southern Colorado, and probably in the Sierra Nevada to south of San Francisco, the mountain centres developed local glaciers, which in some places were of very great size, perhaps exceeding any of those which now exist in Switzerland. It will thus be seen that nearly one half of the present land area of North America was beneath a glacial covering, though, as before noted, the region about the Gulf of Mexico may have swayed upward when the northern portion of the land was borne down by the vast load of ice which rested upon it. Notwithstanding this possible addition to the land, our imaginary explorer would have found the portion of the continent fit for the occupancy of life not more than half as great as it is at present.
In the Eurasian continent there was no such continuous ice sheet as in North America, but the glaciers developed from a number of different centres, each moving out upon the lowlands, or, if its position was southern, being limited to a particular mountain field. One of these centres included Scandinavia, northern Germany, Great Britain about as far south as London, and a large part of Ireland, the ice covering the intermediate seas and extending to the westward, so that the passage of the North Atlantic was greatly restricted between this ice front and that of North America. Another centre, before noted, was formed in the Alps; yet another, of considerable area, in the Pyrenees; other less studied fields existed in the Apennines, in the Caucasus, the Ural, and the other mountains of northern Asia. Curiously enough, however, the great region of plains in Siberia does not appear to have been occupied by a continuous ice sheet, though the similar region in North America was deeply embedded in a glacier. Coincident with this development of ice in the eastern part of the continent, the ice streams of the Himalayan Mountains, some of which are among the greatest of our upland glaciers, appear to have undergone but a moderate extension. Many other of the Eurasian highlands were probably ice-bound during the last Glacial period, but our knowledge concerning these local fields is as yet imperfect.
In the southern hemisphere the lands are of less extent and, on the whole, less studied than in the northern realm. Here and there where glaciers exist, as in New Zealand and in the southern part of South America, observant travellers have noticed that these ice fields have recently shrunk away. Whether the time of greatest extension and of retreat coincided with that of the ice sheets in the north is not yet determined; the problem, indeed, is one of some difficulty, and may long remain undecided. It seems, however, probable that the glaciers of the southern hemisphere, like those in the north, are in process of retreat. If this be true, then their time of greatest extension was probably the same as that of the ice sheets about the southern pole. From certain imperfect reports which we have concerning evidences of glaciation in Central America and in the Andean district in the northern part of South America, it seems possible that at one time the upland ice along the Cordilleran chain existed from point to point along that system of elevations, so that the widest interval between the fields of permanent snow with their attendant glaciers did not much exceed a thousand miles.
Observing the present gradual retreat of those ice remnants which remain mere shreds and patches of the ancient fields, it seems at first sight likely that the extension and recession of the great glaciers took place with exceeding slowness. Measured in terms of human life, in the manner in which we gauge matters of man's history, this process was doubtless slow. There are reasons, however, to believe that the coming and going were, in a geological sense, swift; they may have, indeed, been for a part of the time of startling rapidity. Going back to the time of geological yesterday, before the ice began its development in the northern hemisphere, all the evidence we can find appears to indicate a temperate climate extending far toward the north pole. The Miocene deposits found within twelve degrees, or a little more than seven hundred miles, of the north pole, and fairly within the realm of lowest temperature which now exists on the earth, show by the plant remains which they contain that the conditions permitted the growth of forests, the plants having a tolerably close resemblance to those which now freely develop in the southern portion of the Mississippi Valley. Among them there are species which had the habit of retaining their broad, rather soft leaves throughout the winter season. The climate appears, in a word, to have been one where the mean annual temperature must have been thirty degrees or more higher than the present average of that realm. Although such conditions near the sea level are not inconsistent with the supposition that glaciers existed in the higher mountains of the north, they clearly deny the possibility of the realm being occupied by continental glaciers.
Although the Pliocene deposits formed in high latitudes have to a great extent been swept away by the subsequent glacial wearing, they indicate by their fossils a climatal change in the direction of greater cold. We trace this change, though obscurely, in a progressive manner to a point where the records are interrupted, and the next interpretable indication we have is that the ice sheet had extended to somewhere near the limits which we have noted. We are then driven to seek what we can concerning the sojourn of the ice on the land by the amount of wearing which it has inflicted upon the areas which it occupied. This evidence has a certain, though, as we shall see, a limited value.
When the students of glacial action first began the great task of interpreting these records, they were led to suppose that the amount of rock cutting which was done by the ice was very great. Observing what goes on, in the manner we have noted, beneath a valley glacier such as those of Switzerland, they saw that the ice work went on rapidly, and concluded that if the ice remained long at work in a region it must do a vast deal of erosion. They were right in a part of their premises, but, as we shall see, probably in another part wrong. Looking carefully over the field where the ice has operated, we note that, though at first sight the area appears to have lost all trace of its preglacial river topography, this aspect is due mainly to the irregular way in which the glacial waste is laid down. Close study shows us that we may generally trace the old stream valleys down to those which were no larger than brooks. It is true that these channels are generally and in many places almost altogether filled in with rubbish, but a close study of the question has convinced the writer, and this against a previous view, that the amount of erosion in New England and Canada, where the work was probably as great as anywhere, has not on the average exceeded a hundred feet, and probably was much less than that amount.
Even in the region north of Lake Ontario, over which the ice was deep and remained for a long time, the amount of erosion is singularly small. Thus north of Kingston the little valleys in the limestone rocks which were cut by the preglacial streams, though somewhat encumbered with drift, remain almost as distinct as they are on similar strata in central Kentucky, well south of the field which the ice occupied. In fact, the ice sheet appears to have done the greatest part of its work and to have affected the surface most in the belt of country a few hundred miles in width around the edges of the sheet. It was to be expected that in a continental glacier, as in those of mountain valleys, the most of the débris should be accumulated about the margin where the materials dropped from the ice. But why the cutting action should be greatest in that marginal field is not at first sight clear. To explain this and other features as best we may, we shall now consider the probable history of the great ice march in advance and retreat, and then take up the conditions which brought about its development and its disappearance.
Ice is in many ways the most remarkable substance with which the physicist has to deal, and among its eminent peculiarities is that it expands in freezing, while the rule is that substances contract in passing from the fluid to the solid state. On this account frozen water acts in a unique manner when subjected to pressure. For each additional atmosphere of pressure—a weight amounting to about fifteen pounds to the square inch—the temperature at which the ice will melt is lowered to the amount of sixteen thousandths of a degree centigrade. If we take a piece of ice at the temperature of freezing and put upon it a sufficient weight, we inevitably bring about a small amount of melting. Where we can examine the mass under favourable conditions, we can see the fluid gather along the lines of the crystals or other bits of which the ice is composed. We readily note this action by bringing two pieces of ice together with a slight pressure; when the pressure is removed, they will adhere. The adhesion is brought about not by any stickiness of the materials, for the substance has no such property. It is accomplished by melting along the line of contact, which forms a film of water, that at once refreezes when the pressure is withdrawn. When a firm snowball is made by even pressing snow, innumerable similar adhesions grow up in the manner described. The fact is that, given ice at the temperature at which it ordinarily forms, pressure upon it will necessarily develop melting.
The consequences of pressure melting as above described are in glaciers extremely complicated. Because the ice is built into the glacier at a temperature considerably below the freezing point, it requires a great thickness of the mass before the superincumbent weight is sufficient to bring about melting in its lower parts. If we knew the height at which a thermometer would have stood in the surface ice of the ancient glacier which covered the northern part of North America, we could with some accuracy compute how thick it must have been before the effect of pressure alone would have brought about melting; but even then we should have to reckon the temperature derived from the grinding of the ice over the floor and the crushing of rocks there effected, as well as the heat which is constantly though slowly coming forth from the earth's interior. The result is that we can only say that at some depth, probably less than a mile, the slowly accumulating ice would acquire such a temperature that, subjected to the weight above it, the material next the bottom would become molten, or at least converted into a sludgelike state, in which it could not rub against the bottom, or move stones in the manner of ordinary glaciers.
As fast as the ice assumed this liquid or softened state, it would be squeezed out toward the region where, because of the thinning of the glacier, it would enter a field where pressure melting did not occur. It would then resume the solid state, and thence journey to the margin of the ice in the ordinary manner. We thus can imagine how such a glacier as occupied the northern part of this continent could have moved from the central parts toward its periphery, as we can not do if we assume that the glacier everywhere lay upon the bed rock. There is no slope from Lake Erie to the Ohio River at Cincinnati. Knowing that the ice moved down this line, there are but two methods of accounting for its motion: either the slope of the upper surface to the northward was so steep that the mass would have been thus urged down, the upper parts dragging the bottom along with them, or the ice sheet for the greater part of its extent rested upon pressure-molten water, or sludge ice, which was easily squeezed out toward the front. The first supposition appears inadmissible, for the reason that the ice would have to be many miles deep at Hudson Bay in order that its upper surface should have slope enough to overcome the rigidity of the material and bring about the movement. We know that any such depth is not supposable.
The recent studies in Greenland supply us with strong corroborative evidence for the support of the view which is here urged. The wide central field of that area, where the ice has an exceeding slight declivity, and is unruptured by crevices, can not be explained except on the supposition that it rests on pressure-molten water. The thinner section next the shore, where the glacier is broken up by those irregular movements which its wrestle with the bottom inevitably induces, shows that there it is in contact with the bed rock, for it behaves exactly as do the valley glaciers of like thickness.
The view above suggested as to the condition of continental glaciers enables us to explain not only their movements, but the relatively slight amount of wearing which they brought about on the lands they occupied. Beginning to develop in mountain regions, or near the poles on the lowlands, these sheets, as soon as they attained the thickness where the ice at their bottom became molten, would rapidly advance for great distances until they attained districts where the melting exceeded the supply of frozen material. In this excursion only the marginal portion of the glacier would do erosive work. This would evidently be continued for the greatest amount of time near the front or outer rim of the ice field, for there, we may presume, that for the longest time the cutting rim would rest upon the bed rock of the country. As the ice receded, this rim would fall back; thus in the retreat as in the advance the whole of the field would be subjected to a certain amount of erosion. On this supposition we should expect to find that the front of a continental glacier, fed with pressure-molten water from all its interior district, which became converted into ice, would attain much warmer regions than the valley streams, where all the flow took place in the state of ice, and, furthermore, that the speed of the going on the margin would be much more rapid than in the Alpine streams. These suppositions are well borne out by the study of existing continental ice sheets, which move with singular rapidity at their fronts, and by the ancient glaciers, which evidently extended into rather warm fields. Thus, when the ice front lay at the site of Cincinnati, at six hundred feet above the sea, there were no glaciers in the mountains of North Carolina, though those rise more than five thousand feet higher in the air, and are less than two hundred miles farther south. It is therefore evident that the continental glacier at this time pushed southward into a comparatively warm country in a way that no stream moving in the manner of a valley glacier could possibly have done.
The continental glaciers manage in many cases to convey detritus from a great distance. Thus, when the ice sheet advanced southwardly from the regions north of the Great Lakes, they conveyed quantities of the débris from that section as far south as the Ohio River. In part this rubbish was dragged forward by the ice as the sheet advanced; in part it was urged onward by the streams of liquid water formed by the ordinary process of ice melting. Such subglacial rivers appear to have been formed along the margins of all the great glaciers. We can sometimes trace their course by the excavation which they have made, but more commonly by the long ridges of stratified sand and gravel which were packed into the caverns excavated by these subglacial rivers, which are known to glacialists as eskers, or as serpent kames. In many cases we can trace where these streams flowed up stream in the old river valleys until they discharged over their head waters. Thus in the valley of the Genesee, which now flows from Pennsylvania, where it heads against the tributaries of the Ohio and Susquehanna, to Lake Ontario, there was during the Glacial epoch a considerable river which discharged its waters into those of the Ohio and the Susquehanna over the falls at the head of its course.
Front of Muir Glacier, showing ice entering the sea; also small icebergs.
The effect of widespread glacial action on a country such as North America appears to have been, in the first place, to disturb the attitude of the land by bearing down portions of its surface, a process which led to the uprising of other parts which lay beyond the realm of the ice. Within the field of glaciation, so far as the ice rested bodily on the surface, the rocks were rapidly worn away. A great deal of the débris was ground to fine powder, and went far with the waters of the under-running streams. A large part was entangled in the ice, and moved forward toward the front of the glacier, where it was either dropped at the margin or, during the recession of the glacier, was laid upon the surface as the ice melted away. The result of this erosion and transportation has been to change the conditions of the surface both as regards soil and drainage. As the reader has doubtless perceived, ordinary soil is, outside of the river valleys, derived from the rock beneath where it lies. In glaciated districts the material is commonly brought from a considerable distance, often from miles away. These ice-made soils are rarely very fertile, but they commonly have a great endurance for tillage, and this for the reason that the earth is refreshed by the decay of the pebbles which they contain. Moreover, while the tillable earth of other regions usually has a limited depth, verging downward into the semisoil or subsoil which represent the little changed bed rocks, glacial deposits can generally be ploughed as deeply as may prove desirable.
The drainage of a country recently affected by glaciers is always imperfect. Owing to the irregular erosion of the bed rocks, and to the yet more irregular deposition of the detritus, there are very numerous lakes which are only slowly filled up or by erosion provided with drainage channels. Though several thousand years have passed by since the ice disappeared from North America, the greater part of the area of these fresh-water basins remains, the greater number of them, mostly those of small size, have become closed.
Where an ice stream descends into the sea or into a large lake, the depth of which is about as great as the ice is thick, the relative lightness of the ice tends to make it float, and it shortly breaks off from the parent mass, forming an iceberg. Where, as is generally the case in those glaciers which enter the ocean, a current sweeps by the place where the berg is formed, it may enter upon a journey which may carry the mass thousands of miles from its origin. The bergs separated from the Greenland glaciers, and from those about the south pole, are often of very great size; sometimes, indeed, they are some thousand feet in thickness, and have a length of several miles. It often happens that these bergs are formed of ice, which contains in its lower part a large amount of rock débris. As the submerged portion of the glacier melts in the sea water, these stones are gradually dropped to the bottom, so that the cargo of one berg may be strewed along a line many hundred miles in length. It occasionally happens that the ice mass melts more slowly in those parts which are in the air than in its under-water portions. It thus becomes top-heavy and overturns, in which case such stony matter as remains attains a position where it may be conveyed for a greater distance than if the glacier were not capsized. It is likely, indeed, that now and then fragments of rock from Greenland are dropped on the ocean floor in the part of the Atlantic which is traversed by steamers between our Atlantic ports and Great Britain.
Except for the risks which they bring to navigators, icebergs have no considerable importance. It is true they somewhat affect the temperature of sea and air, and they also serve to convey fragments of stone far out to sea in a way that no other agent can effect; but, on the whole, their influence on the conditions of the earth is inconsiderable.
Icebergs in certain cases afford interesting indices as to the motion of oceanic currents, which, though moving swiftly at a depth below the surface, do not manifest themselves on the plain of the sea. Thus in the region about Greenland, particularly in Davis Strait, bergs have been seen forcing their way southward at considerable speed through ordinary surface ice, which was either at rest or moving in the opposite direction. The train of these bergs, which moves upward from the south polar continent, west of Patagonia, indicates also in a very emphatic way the existence of a very strong northward-setting current in that part of the ocean.
We have now to consider the causes which could bring about such great extensions of the ice sheet as occurred in the last Glacial period. Here again we are upon the confines of geological knowledge, and in a field where there are no well-cleared ways for the understanding. In facing this problem, we should first note that those who are of the opinion that a Glacial period means a very cold climate in the regions where the ice attained its extension are probably in error. Natural as it may seem to look for exceeding cold as the cause of glaciation, the facts show us that we can not hold this view. In Siberia and in the parts of North America bordering on the Arctic Sea the average cold is so intense that the ground is permanently frozen—as it is, for instance, in the Klondike district—to the depth of hundreds of feet, only the surface thawing out during the warm summers. All this region is cold enough for glaciers, but there is not sufficient snowfall to maintain them. On the other hand, in Greenland, and in a less though conspicuous degree in Scandinavia, where the waters of the North Atlantic somewhat diminish the rigour of the cold, and at the same time bring about a more abundant snowfall, the two actions being intimately related, we have very extensive glaciers. Such facts, which could be very much extended, make it clear that the climate of glacial periods must have been characterized by a great snowfall, and not by the most intense cold.
It is evident that what would be necessary again to envelop the boreal parts of North America with a glacial sheet would not be a considerable decrease of heat, but an increase in the winter's contribution of frozen water. Even if the heat released by this snowfall elevated the average temperature of the winter, as it doubtless would in a considerable measure, it would not melt off the snow. That snowfall tends to warm the air by setting free the heat which was engaged in keeping the water in a state of vapour is familiarly shown by the warming which attends an ordinary snowstorm. Even if the fall begin with a temperature of about 0° Fahr., the air is pretty sure to rise to near the freezing point.
It is evident that no great change of temperature is required in order to bring about a very considerable increase in the amount of snowfall. In the ordinary succession of seasons we often note the occurrence of winters during which the precipitation of snow is much above the average, though it can not be explained by a considerable climatal change. We have to account for these departures from the normal weather by supposing that the atmospheric currents bring in more than the usual amount of moisture from the sea during the period when great falls of snow occur. In fact, in explaining variations in the humidity of the land, whether those of a constant nature or those that are to be termed accidental, we have always to look to those features which determine the importation of vapour from the great field of the ocean where it enters the air. We should furthermore note that these peculiarities of climate are dependent upon rather slight geographic accidents. Thus the snowfall of northern Europe, which serves to maintain the glaciation of that region, and, curiously enough, in some measure its general warmth, depends upon the movement of the Gulf Stream from the tropics to high latitudes. If by any geographical change, such as would occur if Central America were lowered so as to make a free passage for its waters to the westward, the glaciers of Greenland and of Scandinavia would disappear, and at the same time the temperature of those would be greatly lowered. Thus the most evident cause of glaciation must be sought in those alterations of the land which affect the movement of the oceanic currents.
Applying this principle to the northern hemisphere, we can in a way imagine a change which would probably bring about a return of such an ice period as that from which the boreal realm is now escaping. Let us suppose that the region of not very high land about Bering Strait should sink down so as to afford the Kuro Siwo, or North Pacific equivalent of our Gulf Stream, an opportunity to enter the Arctic Sea with something like the freedom with which the North Atlantic current is allowed to penetrate to high latitudes. It seems likely that this Pacific current, which in volume and warmth is comparable to that of the Atlantic, would so far elevate the temperature of the arctic waters that their wide field would be the seat of a great evaporation. Noting once again the fact that the Greenland glaciers, as well as those of Norway, are supplied from seas warmed by the Gulf Stream, we should expect the result of this change would be to develop similar ice fields on all the lands near that ocean.
Applying the data gathered by Dr. Croll for the Gulf Stream, it seems likely that the average annual temperature induced in the Arctic Sea by the free entrance of the Japan current would be between 20° and 30° Fahr. This would convert this wide realm of waters into a field of great evaporation, vastly increasing the annual precipitation. It seems also certain that the greater part of this precipitation would be in the form of snow. It appears to the writer that this cause alone may be sufficient to account for the last Glacial period in the northern hemisphere. As to the probability that the region about Bering Strait may have been lowered in the manner required by this view, it may be said that recent studies on the region about Mount St. Elias show that during or just after the ice epoch the shores in that portion of Alaska were at least four thousand feet lower than at present. As this is but a little way from the land which we should have to suppose to be lowered in order to admit the Japan current, we could fairly conclude that the required change occurred. As for the cause of the land movement, geologists are still in doubt. They know, however, that the attitudes of the land are exceedingly unstable, and that the shores rarely for any considerable time maintain their position. It is probable that these swayings of the earth's surface are due to ever-changing combinations of the weight in different parts of the crust and the strains arising from the contraction of its inner parts.
In the larger operations of Nature the effects which we behold, however simple, are rarely the products of a single cause. In fact, there are few actions so limited that they can fairly be referred to one influence. It is therefore proper to state that there are many other actions besides those above noted which probably enter into those complicated equations which determine the climatal conditions of the earth. To have these would carry us into difficult and speculative inquiries.
As before remarked, all the regions which have been subjected to glaciation are still each year brought temporarily into the glacial state. This fact serves to show us that the changes necessary to produce great ice sheets are not necessarily of a startling nature, however great the consequences may be. Assuming, then, that relatively slight alterations of climate may cause the ice sheet to come and go, we may say that all the influences which have been suggested by the students of glaciation, and various other slighter causes which can not be here noted, may have co-operated to produce the peculiar result. In this equation geographic change has affected the course of the ocean currents, and has probably been the most influential, or at least the commonest, cause to which we must attribute the extension of ice sheets. Next, alterations of the solar heat may be looked to as a change-bringing action; unfortunately, however, we have no direct evidence that this is an efficient cause. Thirdly, the variations in the eccentricity of the earth's orbit, combined with the precession of the equinoxes and the rotation of the apsides, may be regarded as operative. The last of all, changes in the constitution of the atmosphere, have to be taken into account. To these must be added, as before remarked, many less important actions which influence this marvellously delicate machine, the work of which is expressed in the phenomena assembled under the name of climate.
Evidence is slowly accumulating which serves to show that glacial periods of greater or less importance have been of frequent occurrence at all stages in the history of the earth of which we have a distinct record. As these accidents write their history upon the ground alone, and in a way impermanently, it is difficult to trace the ice times of ancient geological periods. The scratches on the bed rocks, and the accumulations of detritus formed as the ice disappeared, have alike been worn away by the agents of decay. Nevertheless, we can trace here and there in the older strata accumulations of pebbly matter often containing large boulders, which clearly were shaped and brought together by glacial action. These are found in some instances far south of the region occupied by the glaciers during the last ice epoch. They occur in rocks of the Cambrian or Silurian age in eastern Tennessee and western North Carolina; they are also found in India beyond the limits to which glaciers have attained in modern times.
In closing this inadequate account of glacial action, a story which for its complete telling would require many volumes, it is well for the reader to consider once again how slight are the changes of climate which may alternately withdraw large parts of the land from the uses of life, and again quickly restore the fields to the service of plants and animals. He may well imagine that these changes, by driving living creatures to and fro, profoundly affect the history of their development. This matter will be dealt with in the volume concerning the history of organic beings.
When the ice went off from the northern part of this continent, the surface of the country, which had been borne down by the weight of the glacier, still remained depressed to a considerable depth below the level of the sea, the depression varying from somewhere about one hundred feet in southern New England to a thousand feet or more in high latitudes. Over this region, which lay beneath the level of the sea, the glacier, when it became thin enough to float, was doubtless broken up into icebergs, in the manner which we now behold along the coast of Greenland. Where the shore was swept by a strong current, these bergs doubtless drifted away; but along the most of the coast line they appear to have lain thickly grouped next the shores, gradually delivering their loads of stones and finer débris to the bottom. These masses of floating ice in many cases seem to have prevented the sea waves from attaining the shore, and thus hindered the formation of those beaches which in their present elevated condition enable us to interpret the old position of the sea along coast lines which have been recently elevated. Here and there, however, from New Jersey to Greenland, we find bits of these ancient shores which clearly tell the story of that down-sinking of the land beneath the burden of the ice which is such an instructive feature in the history of that period.
CHAPTER VII.
the work of underground water.
We have already noted two means by which water finds its way underground. The simplest and largest method by which this action is effected is by building in the fluid as the grains of the rock are laid down on the floors of seas or lakes. The water thus imprisoned is firmly inclosed in the interstices of the stone, it in time takes up into its mass a certain amount of the mineral materials which are contained in the deep-buried rocks. The other portion of the ground water—that with which we are now to be specially concerned—arises from the rain which descends into the crevices of the earth; it is therefore peculiar to the lands. For convenience we shall term the original embedded fluid rock water, and that which originates from the rain crevice water, the two forming the mass of the earth water.
The crevice water of the earth, although forming at no time more than a very small fraction of the hidden fluid, is an exceedingly potent geological agent, doing work which, though unseen, yet affords the very foundations on which rest the life alike of land and sea. When this water enters the earth, though it is purified of all mineral materials, it has already begun to acquire a share of a gaseous substance, carbonic acid, or, as chemists now term it, carbon dioxide, which enables the fluid to begin its rôle of marvellous activities. In its descent as rain, probably even before it was gathered in drops in the cloud realm, the water absorbs a certain portion of this gas from the atmosphere. Entering the realm of the soil, where the decaying organic matter plentifully gives forth carbon dioxide, a further store of the gas is acquired. At the ordinary pressure of the air, water may take in many times its bulk of the gas.
The immediate effect of carbonic acid when it is absorbed by water is greatly to increase the capacity which that fluid has for taking mineral matters into solution. When charged with this gas, in the measure in which it may be in the soil, water is able to dissolve about fifty times as much limestone as it can in its perfectly pure form take up. A familiar instance of this peculiar capacity which the gas gives may often be seen where the water from a soda-water fountain drips upon the marble slab beneath. In a few years this slab will be considerably corroded, though pure water would in the same time have had no effect upon it.
The first and by far the most important effect of crevice water is exercised upon the soil, which is at once the product of this action, and the laboratory where the larger part of the work is done. Penetrating between the grains of the detrital covering, held in large quantities in the coating, and continually in slow motion, the gas-charged water takes a host of substances into solution, and brings them into a condition where they may react upon each other in the chemical manner. These materials are constantly being offered to the roots of plants and brought in contact with the underlying rock which has not passed into the state of soil. The changes induced in this stony matter lead to its breaking up, or at least to its softening to the point where the roots can penetrate it and complete its destruction. Thus it comes about that the water which to a great extent divides the rocks into the state of soil, which is continually wearing away the material on the surface, or leaching it out through the springs, is also at work in restoring the layer from beneath.
The greater part of the water which enters the soil does not penetrate to any great depth in the underlying rocks, but finds its way to the surface after no long journey in the form of small springs. Generally those superficial springs do not emerge through distinct channels, but move, though slowly, in a massive way down the slopes until they enter a water course. Along the banks of any river, however small, or along the shores of the sea, a pit a few inches deep just above the level of the water will be quickly filled by a flow from this sheet which underlies the earth. At a distance from the stream this sheet spring is in contact with the bed rocks, and may be many feet below the surface, but it comes to the level of the river or the sea near their margins. Here and there the shape of the bed rocks, being like converging house roofs, causes the superficial springs to form small pipelike channels for the escape of their gathered waters, and the flow emerges at a definite point. Almost all these sources of considerable flow are due to the action of the water on the underlying rock, where we shall now follow that portion of the crevice water which penetrates deeply into the earth.
Almost all rocks, however firm they may appear to be, are divided by crevices which extend from the soil level it may be to the depths of thousands of feet. These rents are in part due to the strains of mountain-building, which tend to disrupt the firmest stone, leaving open fractures. They are also formed in other ways, as by the imperfectly understood agencies which produce joint planes. It often happens that where rocks are highly tilted water finds its way downward between the layers, which are imperfectly soldered together, or a bed of coarse material, such as sandstone or conglomerate, may afford an easy way by which the water may descend for miles beneath the surface. Passing through rocks which are not readily soluble, the water, already to a great extent supplied with mineral matter by its journey through the soil, may not do much excavating work, and even after a long time may only slightly enlarge the spaces in which it may be stored or the channels by which it discharges to the surface. Hence it comes about that in many countries, even where the waters penetrate deeply, they do not afford large springs. It is otherwise where the crevice waters enter limestones composed of materials which are readily dissolved. In such places we find the rain so readily entering the underlying rock that no part of the fall goes at once to the brooks, but all has a long underground journey.
In any limestone district where the beds of the material are thick and tolerably pure—as, for instance, in the cavern district of southern Kentucky—the traveller who enters the region notes at once that the usual small streams which in every region of considerable rainfall he is accustomed to see intersecting the surface of the country are entirely absent. In their place he notes everywhere pitlike depressions of bowl-shaped form, the sink holes to which we have already adverted. Through the openings in the bottom of these the rain waters descend into the depths of the earth. Although the most of these depressions have but small openings in their bottom, now and then one occurs with a vertical shaft sufficiently large to permit the explorer to descend into it, though he needs to be lowered down in the manner of a miner who is entering a shaft. In fact, the journey is nearly always one of some hazard; it should not be undertaken save with many precautions to insure safety.
When one is lowered away through an open sink hole, though the descent may at first be somewhat tortuous, the explorer soon finds himself swinging freely in the air, it may be at a point some hundred feet above the base of the bottle-shaped shaft or dome into which he has entered. Commonly the neck of the bottle is formed where the water has worked its way through a rather sandy limestone, a rock which was not readily dissolved by the water. In the pure and therefore easily cut limestone layers the cavity rapidly expands until the light of the lantern may not disclose its walls. Farther down there is apt to be a shelf composed of another impure limestone, which extends off near the middle of the shaft. If the explorer can land upon this shelf, he is sure to find that from this imperfect floor the cavern extends off in one or more horizontal galleries, which he may follow for a great distance until he comes to the point where there is again a well-like opening through the hard layer, with another dome-shaped base beneath. Returning to the main shaft, the explorer may continue his descent until he attains the base of this vertical section of the cave, where he is likely to find himself delivered in a pool of water of no great depth, the bottom of which is occupied by a quantity of small, hard stones of a flinty nature, which have evidently come from the upper parts of the cavern. The close observer will have noted that here and there in the limestone there are flinty bits, such as those which he finds in the pool. From the bottom of the dome a determined inquirer can often make his way along the galleries which lead from that level, though it may be after a journey of miles to the point where he emerges from the cavern on the banks of an open-air river.
Although a journey by way of the sink holes through a cavern system is to be commended for the reason that it is the course of the caverning waters, it is, on the whole, best to approach the cave through their exits along the banks of a stream or through the chance openings which are here and there made by the falling in of their roofs. One advantage of this cavity of entrance is that we can thus approach the cavern in times of heavy rain when the processes which lead to their construction are in full activity. Coming in this way to one of the domes formed beneath a sink hole, we may observe in rainy weather that the water falling down the deep shaft strikes the bottom with great force; in many of the Kentucky caves it falls from a greater height than Niagara. At such times the stones in the basin at the bottom of the shaft are vigorously whirled about, and in their motion they cut the rocks in the bottom of the basin—in fact, this cavity is a great pot hole, like those at the base of open-air cascades. It is now easy to interpret the general principles which determine the architecture of the cavern realm.
When it first enters the earth all the work which the water does in the initial steps of cavern formation is effected by solution. As the crevice enlarges and deepens, the stream acquires velocity, and begins to use the bits of hard rock in boring. It works downward in this way by the mixed mechanical and chemical action until it encounters a hard layer. Then the water creeps horizontally through the soft stratum, doing most of its work by solution, until it finds a crevice in the floor through which it can excavate farther in the downward direction; so it goes on in the manner of steps until it burrows channels to the open stream. In time the vertical fall under the sink hole will cut through the hard layer, when the water, abandoning the first line of exit, will develop another at a lower level, and so in time it comes about that there may be several stories of the cave, the lowest being the last to be excavated. Of the total work thus done, only a small part is accomplished by the falling of the water, acting through the boring action of its tools, the bits of stone before mentioned; the principal part of the task is done by the solvent action of the carbonated waters on the limestone. In the system of caverns known as the Mammoth Cave, in Kentucky, the writer has estimated that at least nine tenths of the stone was removed in the state of solution.
When first excavated, the chambers of a limestone cavern have little beauty to attract the eye. The curves of the walls are sometimes graceful, but the aspect of the chambers, though in a measure grand, is never charming. When, however, the waters have ceased to carve the openings, when they have been drained away by the formation of channels on a lower level, there commonly sets in a process known as stalactitization, which transforms the scene into one of singular beauty. We have already noted the fact that everywhere in ordinary rocks there are crevices through which water, moving under the pressure of the fluid which is above, may find its way slowly downward. In the limestone roofs of caverns, particularly in those of the upper story, this ooze of water passes through myriads of unseen fissures at a rate so slow that it often evaporates in the dry air without dropping to the floor. When it comes out of the rocks the water is charged with various salts of lime; when it evaporates it leaves the material behind on the roof. Where the outflow is so slight that the fluid does not gather into drops, it forms an incrustation of limy matter, which often gathers in beautiful flowerlike forms, or perhaps in the shape of a sheet of alabaster. Where drops are formed, a small, pendent cone grows downward from the ceiling, over which the water flows, and on which it evaporates. This cone grows slowly downward until it may attain the floor of the chamber, which has a height of thirty feet or more. If all the water does not evaporate, that which trickles off the apex of the cone, striking on the floor, is splashed out into a thin sheet, so that it evaporates in a speedy manner, lays down its limestone, and thus builds another and ruder cone, which grows upward toward that which is pendent above it. Finally, they grow together, enlarged by the process which constructed them, until a mighty column may be formed, sculptured as if by the hands of a fantastic architect.
Fig. 13.—Stalactites and stalagmites on roof and floor of a cavern. The arrows show the direction of the moving water.
All the while that subterranean streams are cutting the caverns downward the open-air rivers into which they discharge are deepening their beds, and thereby preparing for the construction of yet lower stories of caves. These open-air streams commonly flow in steep-sided, narrow valleys, which themselves were caves until the galleries became so wide that they could no longer support the roof. Thus we often find that for a certain distance the roof over a large stream has fallen in, so that the water flows in the open air. Then it will plunge under an arch and course, it may be, for some miles, before it again arrives at a place where the roof has disappeared, or perhaps attains a field occupied by rocks of another character, in which caverns were not formed. At places these old river caverns are abandoned by the streams, which find other courses. They form natural tunnels, which are not infrequently of considerable length. One such in southwestern Virginia has been made useful for a railway passing from one valley to another, thus sparing the expense of a costly excavation. Where the remnant of the arch is small, it is commonly known as a natural bridge, of which that in Rockbridge County, in Virginia, is a very noble example. Arches of this sort are not uncommon in many cavern countries; five such exist in Carter County, Kentucky, a district in the eastern part of that State which abounds in caverns, though none of them are of conspicuous height or beauty.[7]
At this stage of his studies on cavern work the student will readily conceive that, as the surface of the country overlying the cave is incessantly wearing down, the upper stories of the system are continually disappearing, while new ones are forming at the present drainage level of the country. In fact, the attentive eye can in such a district find here and there evidences of this progressive destruction. Not only do the caves wear out from above, but their roofs are constantly falling to their floors, a process which is greatly aided by the growth of stalactites. Forming in the crevices or joints between the stones, these rock growths sometimes prize off great blocks. In other cases the weight of the pendent stalactite drags the ill-supported masses of the roof to the floor. In this way a gallery originally a hundred feet below the surface may work its way upward to the light of day. The entrance by which the Mammoth Cave is approached appears to have been formed in this manner, and at several points in that system of caverns the effect of this action may be distinctly observed.
We must now go a step further on the way of subterranean water, and trace its action in the depths below the plane of ordinary caves, which, as we have noted, do not extend below the level of the main streams of the cavern district. The first group of facts to be attended to is that exhibited by artesian wells. These occur where rocks have been folded down into a basinlike form. It often happens that in such a basin the rocks of which it is composed are some of them porous, and others impervious to water, and that the porous layers outcrop on the high margins of the depression and have water-tight layers over them. These conditions can be well represented by supposing that we have two saucers, one within the other, with an intervening layer of sand which is full of water. If now we bore an opening in the bottom of the uppermost saucer, we readily conceive that the water will flow up through it. In Nature we often find these basins with the equivalent of the sandy layer in the model just described rising hundreds of feet above the valley, so that the artesian well, so named from the village of Artois, near Paris, where the first opening of this nature was made, may yield a stream which will mount upward, especially where piped, to a great height. At many places in the world it is possible by such wells to obtain a large supply of tolerably pure water, but in general it is found to contain too large a supply of dissolved mineral matter or sulphuretted gases to be satisfactory for domestic purposes. It may be well to note the fact that the greater part of the so-called artesian wells, or borings which deliver water to a height above the surface, are not true artesian sources, in that they do not send up the water by the action of gravitation, but under the influence of gaseous pressure.
Where, as in the case of upturned porous beds, the crevice water penetrates far below the earth's surface or the open-air streams which drain the water away, the fluid acquires a considerable increase of temperature, on the average about one degree Fahrenheit for each eighty feet of descent. It may, indeed, become so heated that if it were at the earth's surface it would not only burst into steam with a vast explosive energy, but would actually shine in the manner of heated solids. As the temperature of water rises, and as the pressure on it increases, it acquires a solvent power, and takes in rocky matter in a measure unapproached at the earth's surface. At the depth of ten miles water beginning as inert rain would acquire the properties which we are accustomed to associate with strong acids. Passing downward through fissures or porous strata in the manner indicated in the diagram, the water would take up, by virtue of its heat and the gases it contained, a share of many mineral substances which we commonly regard as insoluble. Gold and even platinum—the latter a material which resists all acids at ordinary temperatures—enters into the solution. If now the water thus charged with mineral stores finds in the depths a shorter way to the surface than that which it descended, which may well happen by way of a deep rift in the rocks, it will in its ascent reverse the process which it followed on going down. It will deposit the several minerals in the order of their solubilities—that is, the last to be taken in will be the first to be crystallized on the walls of the fissure through which the upflow is taking place. The result will be the formation of a vein belonging to the variety known as fissure veins.
Fig. 14.—Diagram of vein. The different shadings show the variations in the nature of the deposits.
A vein deposit such as we are considering may, though rarely, be composed of a single mineral. Most commonly we find the deposit arranged in a banded form in the manner indicated in the figure (see diagram 14). Sometimes one material will abound in the lower portions of the fissure and another in its higher parts, a feature which is accounted for by the progressive cooling and relinquishment of pressure to which the water is subjected on its way to the surface. With each decrement of those properties some particular substance goes out of the fluid, which may in the end emerge in the form of a warm or hot spring, the water of which contains but little mineral matter. Where, however, the temperature is high, some part of the deposit, even a little gold, may be laid down just about the spring in the deposits known as sinter, which are often formed at such places.
In many cases the ore deposits are formed not only in the main channel of the fissure, but in all the crevices on either side of that way. In this manner, much as in the case of the growth of stalactitic matter between the blocks of stone in the roofs of a cavern, large fragments of rock, known as "horses," are often pushed out into the body of the vein. In some instances the growth of the vein appears to enlarge the fissure or place of the deposit as the accumulation goes on, the process being analogous to that by which a growing root widens the crevice into which it has penetrated. In other instances the fissure formed by the force has remained wide open, or at most has been but partly filled by the action of the water.
It not infrequently happens that the ascending waters of hot springs entering limestones have excavated extensive caves far below the surface of the earth, these caverns being afterward in part filled by the ores of various metals. We can readily imagine that the water at one temperature would excavate the cavern, and long afterward, when at a lower heat, they might proceed to fill it in. At a yet later stage, when the surface of the country had worn down many thousands of feet below the original level, the mineral stores of the caverns may be brought near the surface of the earth. Some of the most important metalliferous deposits of the Cordilleras are found in this group of hot-water caverns. These caverns are essentially like those produced by cold water, with the exception of the temperature of the fluid which does the work and the opposite direction of the flow.
In following crevice water which is free to obey the impulses of gravitation far down into the earth, we enter on a realm where the rock or construction water, that which was built into the stone at the time of its formation, is plentiful. Where these two groups of waters come in contact an admixture occurs, a certain portion of the rock water joining that in the crevices. Near the surface of the ground we commonly find that all the construction water has been washed out by this action. Yet if the rocks be compact, or if they have layers of a soft and clayey nature, we may find the construction water, even in very old deposits, remaining near the surface of the ground. Thus in the ancient Silurian beds of the Ohio Valley a boring carried a hundred feet below the level of the main rivers commonly discovers water which is clearly that laid down in the crevices of the material at the time when the rocks were formed in the sea. In all cases this water contains a certain amount of gases derived from the decomposition of various substances, but principally from the alteration of iron pyrite, which affords sulphuretted hydrogen. Thus the water is forced to the surface with considerable energy, and the well is often named artesian, though it flows by gas pressure on the principle of the soda-water fountain, and not by gravity, as in the case of true artesian wells.
The passage between the work done by the deeply penetrating surface water and that due to the fluid intimately blended with the rock built into the mass at the time of its formation is obscure. We are, however, quite sure that at great depths beneath the earth the construction water acts alone not only in making veins, but in bringing about many other momentous changes. At a great depth this water becomes intensely heated, and therefore tends to move in any direction where a chance fissure or other accident may lessen the pressure. Creeping through the rocks, and moving from zones of one temperature to another, these waters bring about in the fine interstices chemical changes which lead to great alterations in the constitution of the rock material. It is probably in part to these slow driftings of rock water that beds originally made up of small, shapeless fragments, such as compose clay slates, sandstones, and limestones, may in time be altered into crystalline rocks, where there is no longer a trace of the original bits, all the matter having been taken to pieces by the process of dissolving, and reformed in the regular crystalline order. In many cases we may note how a crystal after being made has been in part dissolved away and replaced by another mineral. In fact, many of our rocks appear to have been again and again made over by the slow-drifting waters, each particular state in their construction being due to some peculiarity of temperature or of mineral contents which the fluid held. These metamorphic phenomena, though important, are obscure, and their elucidation demands some knowledge of petrographic science, that branch of geology which considers the principles of rock formation. They will therefore not be further considered in this work.