CHAPTER VI
MARTIAN POLAR EXPEDITIONS

Polar expeditions exert an extreme attraction on certain minds, perhaps because they combine the maximum of hardship with the minimum of headway. Inconclusiveness certainly enables them to be constantly renewed, without loss either of purpose or prestige. The fact that the pole has never been trod by man constitutes the lodestone to such undertakings; and that it continues to defy him only whets his endeavor the more. Except for the demonstration of the polar drift-current conceived of and then verified by Nansen, very little has been added by them to our knowledge of the globe. Nor is there specific reason to suppose that what they might add would be particularly vital. Nothing out of the way is suspected of the pole beyond the simple fact of being so positioned. Yet for their patent inconclusion they continue to be sent in sublime superiority to failure.

Martian polar expeditions, as undertaken by the astronomer, are the antipodes of these pleasingly perilous excursions in three important regards, which if less appealing to the gallery commend themselves to the philosopher. They involve comparatively little hardship; they have accomplished what they set out to do; and the knowledge they have gleaned has proved fundamental to an understanding of the present physical condition of the planet.

The antithesis in pole-pursuing between the two planets manifests itself at the threshold of the inquiry, in the relative feasibility with which the phenomena on Mars may be scanned. For, curiously enough, instead of being the pole and its surrounding paleocrystic ice which remains hidden on Mars, it is rather the extreme extent of its extension and the lowest latitudinal deposit of frost which lies shrouded in mystery. The difficulty there is not to see the pole but to see in winter the regions from which our own expeditions set out. And this because the poles are well displayed to us at times which are neither few nor very far between; while favorable occasions for marking the edge of the caps when at their greatest have neither proved so numerous nor so favorable. The tilt of the planet’s axis when conveniently placed for human observation has been the cause of the one drawback; the planet’s meteorological condition in those latitudes at that season the reason for the other.

What knowledge we have of the size of the caps in degrees upon the surface of the planet at this their extreme equatorward extension has been given in the last chapter. Their aspect at the time together with what that aspect betokens was not there touched upon. With it, therefore, and the peculiarities it presents to view we shall begin our account of the caps’ annual history.

South Polar Cap in winter.

When first the hemisphere, the pole of which has for half a Martian year been turned away from the sun, begins to emerge from its long hibernation, the snow-cap which covers it down even to temperate regions presents an undelimited expanse of white, the edges of which merge indistinguishably into the groundwork color of the regions round about. Of a dull opaque hue along its border, its contour is not sharp but fades off in a fleecy fringe without hard and fast line of demarcation. Such notably was the aspect of the north temperate zone in 1896 when, tilted as it then was away from us into a mere northern horizon of the planet’s limb, it showed prior to the definite recognition of the north polar cap in August of that year, and such too was the look of the disk’s southern edge both before and after the first certain detection of the southern cap in 1903 and 1905. Each was then in the depth of winter. For in Martian chronology the season corresponded in each at the time to what we know in our northern hemisphere as the latter part of February and the early part of March and the appearance of the planet’s surface in both was not unlike what we know at the same season in latitude 45°. Indeed, there is reason to suppose bad weather there then and the extreme fringe, from the pale tint it exhibited, to have been cloud rather than snow.

It is quite in keeping with what we know on earth or can conceive of elsewhere that such aspect should characterize the cap at or near the attainment of its greatest development. Whether it were not yet quite arrived at this turning-point of its career or had but slightly passed it a vagueness of outline would in either event proclaim the fact. For were the frost still depositing, the cap’s edge would show indefinite; and on the other hand had it just begun to melt, evaporation would give it an undefined edge before the melting water had gathered in sufficient quantities to be itself noticeable.

Its behavior subsequent to recognition bore out the inference from its aspect when it first appeared. While for many days prior to its coming unmistakably into view it was impossible to say whether what was seen of the southern cap in 1903 and 1905 was cloud or snow; so even after it had definitely disclosed itself it continued to play at odds with the observer. Showing sharp at the edges one day it would appear but hazily defined the next, thus clearly demonstrating itself to be at the then unstable acme of its spread. Such a state of things we are only too familiar with in our own March weather when after days of sunshine that have melted off the winter’s white and fringed it with rivulets and awakening grass, a snow-storm falling upon it powders the ground again that was beginning to be bare and at one stroke extends the domain of the snow while mystifying the actual limits it may be said to occupy. The same condition of things, then, is not unknown on Mars, and to fix the precise date of so wavering a phenomenon is not so much matter of difficult observation as of physical impossibility.