The desert is a land of geographic paradoxes. As Walther has pointed out, we have rain in the desert which does not wet, springs which yield no brooks, rivers without mouths, forests preserved in stone, lakes without outlets, valleys without streams, lake basins without lakes, depressions below the level of the sea yet barren of water, intense weathering with no mantle of disintegrated rock, a decomposition of the rocks from within instead of from without, and valleys which branch sometimes upstream and sometimes down.
Within the deserts curious mushroom-like remnants of erosion afford a local relief from the searching rays of the desert sun. Pocket-like openings large enough for a hermit’s habitation are hollowed out by the wind from the disintegrated rock masses. Amphitheaters open out from little erosion valleys or wadi, and isolated outliers of the mountains stand like sentinels before their massive fronts.
Because of the general absence of clouds above a desert, no shield such as is common in humid regions is provided against the blinding intensity of the sun’s rays. Sun temperatures as high as 180° Fahrenheit have been registered over the deserts of western Africa. Every one is familiar with the fact that a blanket of thick clouds is a prevention of frosts at night, for, with the setting of the sun and the consequent radiation of heat from the earth, these rays are intercepted by the clouds, returned and re-returned in many successive exchanges. Over desert regions the absence of any such blanket of moisture is responsible for the remarkable falls of temperature at sunset. Though shortly before temperatures of 100° Fahrenheit or greater may have been measured, it is not uncommon for water to freeze during the following night. Much the same conditions of sudden temperature change with nightfall are experienced in high mountains when one has ascended above the blanketing clouds.
Fig. 207.—Borax deposits upon the floor of Death valley, California (after a photograph by Fairbanks).
Dry weathering—the red and brown desert varnish.—In desert lands the fierce rays of the sun suck up all the available moisture, and the water table may be hundreds of feet below the surface. Roots of trees a hundred feet or more in length have been found to testify to the fierce struggle of the desert plant with the arid conditions. In humid regions the meteoric water dissolves the more soluble sodium salts near the surface of the rock and carries them out to the ocean, where they add to the saltness of the sea. In the desert the rare precipitations prevent an outflow, but the sun’s strong rays suck out with the moisture the salts from within the rock, and evaporating upon the surface, the salts are left as a coat of “alkali”, which is in part carried away on the wind and in part washed off in one of the rare cloudbursts. In either case these constituents find their way to the lowest depressions of the basin, where they contribute to the saline deposits of the desert lakes ([Fig. 207]).
Fig. 208.—Hollowed forms of weathered granite in a desert of central Asia (after Walther).
Certain of the saline constituents of the rocks, as they are thus drawn out by the sun’s rays, fuse with the rock at the surface to form a dense brown substance with smooth surface coat, known as desert varnish. Within the interior a portion of the salts crystallize within the capillary fissures, and like water freezing within a pipe, they rend the walls apart. As a direct consequence of this disintegrating process the interior of rock masses may crumble into sand; and if the hard shell of varnish be broken at any point, the wind makes its entrance and removes the interior portion so as to leave a hollow shell—the characteristic “pocket rock” ([Fig. 208]) of the desert. The nummulitic limestone of Mokkatan and many of the great hewn blocks of Egyptian limestone sound hollow under the tap of the hammer, and when broken, they reveal a shell a few inches only in thickness ([Fig. 209]).