Fig. 7.—Section of mountains. Rockbridge and Bath counties, Va. (from Dana). The numbers indicate the several formations.Fig. 7.—Section of mountains. Rockbridge and Bath counties, Va. (from Dana).The numbers indicate the several formations.(Transcriber's note: click on the image for a full-size version of the figure.)
By walking across any considerable mountain chain, as, for instance, that of the Alleghanies, it is generally possible to trace a number of these parallel up-and-down folds of the strata, so that we readily perceive that the original beds had been packed together into a much less space than they at first occupied. In some cases we could prove that the shortening of the line has amounted to a hundred miles or more—in other words, points on the plain lands on either side of the mountain range which now exists may have been brought a hundred miles or so nearer together than they were before the elevations were produced. The reader can make for himself a convenient diagram showing what occurred by pressing a number of leaves of this book so that the sheets of paper are thrown into ridges and furrows. By this experiment he also will see that the easiest way to account for such foldings as we observe in mountains is by the supposition that some force residing in the earth tends to shove the beds into a smaller space than they originally occupied. Not only are the rocks composing the mountains much folded, but they are often broken through after the manner of masonry which has been subjected to earthquake shocks, or of ice which has been strained by the expansion that affects it as it becomes warmed before it is melted. In fact, many of our small lakes in New England and in other countries of a long winter show in a miniature way during times of thawing ice folds which much resemble mountain arches.
At first geologists were disposed to attribute all the phenomena of mountain-folding to the progressive cooling of the earth. Although this sphere has already lost a large part of the heat with which it was in the beginning endowed, it is still very hot in its deeper parts, as is shown by the phenomena of volcanoes. This internal heat, which to the present day at the depth of a hundred miles below the surface is probably greater than that of molten iron,is constantly flowing away into space; probably enough of it goes away on the average each day to melt a hundred cubic miles or more of ice, or, in more scientific phrase, the amount of heat rendered latent by melting that volume of frozen water. J.R. Meyer, an eminent physicist, estimated the quantity of heat so escaping each day of the year to be sufficient to melt two hundred and forty cubic miles of ice. The effect of this loss of heat is constantly to shrink the volume of the earth; it has, indeed, been estimated that the sphere on this account contracts on the average to the amount of some inches each thousand years. For the reason that almost all this heat goes from the depths of the earth, the cool outer portion losing no considerable part of it, the contraction that is brought about affects the interior portions of the sphere alone. The inner mass constantly shrinking as it loses heat, the outer, cold part is by its weight forced to settle down, and can only accomplish this result by wrinkling. An analogous action may be seen where an apple or a potato becomes dried; in this case the hard outer rind is forced to wrinkle, because, losing no water, it does not diminish in its extent, and can only accommodate itself to the interior by a wrinkling process. In one case it is water which escapes, in the other heat; but in both contraction of the part which suffers the loss leads to the folding of the outside of the spheroid.
Although this loss of heat on the part of the earth accounts in some measure for the development of mountains, it is not of itself sufficient to explain the phenomena, and this for the reason that mountains appear in no case to develop on the floors of the wide sea. The average depth of the ocean is only fifteen thousand feet, while there are hundreds, if not thousands, of mountain crests which exceed that height above the sea. Therefore if mountains grew on the sea floor as they do upon the land, there should be thousands of peaks rising above the plain of the waters, while, in fact, all of the islands except those near the shoresof continents are of volcanic origin—that is, are lands of totally different nature.
Whenever a considerable mountain chain is formed, although the actual folding of the beds is limited to the usually narrow field occupied by these disturbances, the elevation takes place over a wide belt of country on one or both sides of the range. Thus if we approach the Rocky Mountains from the Mississippi Valley, we begin to mount up an inclined plane from the time we pass westward from the Mississippi River. The beds of rock as well as the surface rises gradually until at the foot of the mountain; though the rocks are still without foldings, they are at a height of four or five thousand feet above the sea. It seems probable—indeed, we may say almost certain—that when the crust is broken, as it is in mountain-building, by extensive folds and faults, the matter which lies a few score miles below the crust creeps in toward those fractures, and so lifts up the country on which they lie. When we examine the forms of any of our continents, we find that these elevated portions of the earth's crust appear to be made up of mountains and the table-lands which fringe those elevations. There is not, as some of our writers suppose, two different kinds of elevation in our great lands—the continents and the mountains which they bear—but one process of elevation by which the foldings and the massive uplifts which constitute the table-lands are simultaneously and by one process formed.
Looking upon continents as the result of mountain growth, we may say that here and there on the earth's crust these dislocations have occurred in such association and of such magnitude that great areas have been uplifted above the plain of the sea. In general, we find these groups of elevations so arranged that they produce the triangular form which is characteristic of the great lands. It will be observed, for instance, that the form of North America is in general determined by the position of the Appalachian and Cordilleran systems on its eastern and western margins, though there are a number of smaller chains, such as the Laurentians in Canada and the ice-covered mountains of Greenland, which have a measure of influence in fixing its shore lines.
Waterfall near Gadsden, Alabama. The upper shelf of rock is a hard sandstone, the lower beds are soft shale. The conditions are those of most waterfalls, such as Niagara.Waterfall near Gadsden, Alabama. The upper shelf of rock is a hard sandstone, the lower beds are soft shale. The conditions are those of most waterfalls, such as Niagara.
The history of plains, as well as that of mountains, will have further light thrown upon it when in the next chapter we come to consider the effect of rain water on the land. We may here note the fact that the level surfaces which are above the seashores are divisible into two main groups—those which have been recently lifted above the sea level, composed of materials laid down in the shallows next the shore, and which have not yet shared in mountain-building disturbances, and those which have been slightly tilted in the manner before indicated in the case of the plains which border the Rocky Mountains on the east. The great southern plain of eastern and southern United States, extending from near New York to Mexico, is a good specimen of the level lands common on all the continents which have recently emerged from the sea. The table-lands on either side of the Mississippi Valley, sloping from the Alleghanies and the Cordilleras, represent the more ancient type of plain which has already shared in the elevation which mountain-building brings about. In rarer cases plains of small area are formed where mountains formerly existed by the complete moving down of the original ridges.
There is a common opinion that the continents are liable in the course of the geologic ages to very great changes of position; that what is now sea may give place to new great lands, and that those already existing may utterly disappear. This opinion was indeed generally held by geologists not more than thirty years ago. Further study of the problem has shown us that while parts of each continent may at any time be depressed beneath the sea, the whole of its surface rarely if ever goes below the water level. Thus, in the case of North America, we can readily note very great changes in its form since the landbegan to rise above the water. But always, from that ancient day to our own, some portion of the area has been above the level of the sea, thus providing an ark of refuge for the land life when it was disturbed by inundations. The strongest evidence in favour of the opinion that the existing continents have endured for many million years is found in the fact that each of the great lands preserves many distinct groups of animals and plants which have descended from ancient forms dwelling upon the same territory. If at any time the relatively small continent of Australia had gone beneath the sea, all of the curious pouched animals akin to the opossum and kangaroo which abound in that country—creatures belonging in the ancient life of the world—would have been overwhelmed.
We have already noted the fact that the uplifting of mountains and of the table-lands about them, which appears to have been the basis of continental growth, has been due to strains in the rocks sufficiently strong to disturb the beds. At each stage of the mountain-building movement these compressive strains have had to contend with the very great weight of the rocks which they had to move. These lands are not to be regarded as firm set or rigid arches, but as highly elastic structures, the shapes of which may be determined by any actions which put on or take off burden. We see a proof of this fact from numerous observations which geologists are now engaged in making. Thus during the last ice epoch, when almost all the northern part of this continent, as well as the northern part of Europe, was covered by an ice sheet several thousand feet thick, the lands sank down under their load, and to an extent roughly proportional to the depth of the icy covering. While the northern regions were thus tilted down by the weight which was upon them, the southern section of this land, the region about the Gulf of Mexico, was elevated much above its present level; it seems likely, indeed, that the peninsula of Florida rose to the height of several hundred feet above its present shore line. Afterthe ice passed away the movements were reversed, the northern region rising and the southern sinking down. These movements are attested by the position of the old shore lines formed during the later stages of the Glacial epoch. Thus around Lake Ontario, as well as the other Great Lakes, the beaches which mark the higher positions of those inland seas during the closing stages of the ice time, and which, of course, were when formed horizontal, now rise to the northward at the rate of from two to five feet for each mile of distance. Recent studies by Mr. G.K. Gilbert show that this movement is still in progress.
Other evidence going to show the extent to which the movements of the earth's crust are affected by the weight of materials are found in the fact that wherever along the shores thick deposits of sediments are accumulated the tendency of the region where they lie is gradually to sink downward, so that strata having an aggregate thickness of ten thousand feet or more may be accumulated in a sea which was always shallow. The ocean floor, in general, is the part of the earth's surface where strata are constantly being laid down. In the great reservoir of the waters thedébriswashed from the land, the dust from volcanoes, and that from the stellar spaces, along with the vast accumulation of organic remains, almost everywhere lead to the steadfast accumulation of sedimentary deposits. On the other hand, the realms of the surface above the ocean level are constantly being worn away by the action of the rivers and glaciers, of the waves which beat against the shores, and of the winds which blow over desert regions. The result is that the lands are wearing down at the geologically rapid average rate of somewhere about one foot in five thousand years. All this heavy matter goes to the sea bottoms. Probably to this cause we owe in part the fact that in the wrinklings of the crust due to the contraction of the interior the lands exhibit a prevailing tendency to uprise, while the ocean floors sink down. In this way the continents are maintained above the level of the sea despite the powerful forces which are constantly wearing their substance away, while the seas remain deep, although they are continually being burdened with imported materials.
Fig. 8.—Diagram showing the effect of the position of the fulcrum point in the movement of the land masses. In diagrams I and II, the lines a b represent the land before the movement, and a' b' its position after the movement; s, s, the position of the shore line; p, p, the pivotal points; l, s, the sea line. In diagram III, the curved line designates a shore; the line a b, connecting the pivotal points p, p, is partly under the land and partly under the sea.Fig. 8.—Diagram showing the effect of the position of the fulcrum point in the movement of the land masses. In diagrams I and II, the lines a b represent the land before the movement, and a' b' its position after the movement; s, s, the position of the shore line; p, p, the pivotal points; l, s, the sea line. In diagram III, the curved line designates a shore; the line a b, connecting the pivotal points p, p, is partly under the land and partly under the sea.
It is easy to see that if the sea floors tend to sink downward, while the continental lands uprise, the movements which take place may be compared with those which occur in a lever about a fulcrum point. In this case the sea endof the bar is descending and the land end ascending. Now, it is evident that the fulcrum point may fall to the seaward or to the landward of the shore; only by chance and here and there would it lie exactly at the coast line. By reference to the diagram (Fig. 8), it will be seen that, while the point of rotation is just at the shore, a considerable movement may take place without altering the position of the coast line. Where the point of no movement is inland of the coast, the sea will gain on the continent; where, however, the point is to seaward, beneath the water, the land will gain on the ocean. In this way we can, in part at least, account for the endless changes in the attitude of the land along the coastal belt without having to suppose that the continents cease to rise or the sea floors to sink downward. It is evident that the bar or section of the rocks from the interior of the land to the bottoms of the seas is not rigid; it is also probable that the matter in the depths of the earth, which moves with the motions of this bar, would change the position of the fulcrum point from time to time. Thus it may well come about that our coast lines are swaying up and down in ceaseless variation.
In very recent geological times, probably since the beginning of the last Glacial period, the region about the Dismal Swamp in Virginia has swayed up and down through four alternating movements to the extent of from fifty to one hundred feet. The coast of New Jersey is now sinking at the rate of about two feet in a hundred years. The coast of New England, though recently elevated to the extent of a hundred feet or more, at a yet later time sank down, so that at some score of points between New York and Eastport, Me., we find the remains of forests with the roots of their trees still standing below high-tide mark in positions where the trees could not have grown. Along all the marine coasts of the world which have been carefully studied from this point of view there are similar evidences of slight or great modern changes in the level of the lands. At some points, particularlyon the coast of Alaska and along the coast of Peru, these uplifts of the land have amounted to a thousand feet or more. In the peninsular district of Scandinavia the swayings, sometimes up and sometimes down, which are now going on have considerably changed the position of the shore lines since the beginning of the historical period.
There are other causes which serve to modify the shapes and sizes of the continents which may best be considered in the sequel; for the present we may pass from this subject with the statement that our great lands are relatively permanent features; their forms change from age to age, but they have remained for millions of years habitable to the hosts of animals and plants which have adapted their life to the conditions which these fields afford them.
The firm-set portion of the earth, composed of materials which became solid when the heat so far disappeared from the sphere that rocky matter could pass from its previous fluid condition to the solid or frozen state, is wrapped about by two great envelopes, the atmosphere and the waters. Of these we shall first consider the lighter and more universal air; in taking account of its peculiarities we shall have to make some mention of the water with which it is greatly involved; afterward we shall consider the structure and functions of that fluid.
Atmospheric envelopes appear to be common features about the celestial spheres. In the sun there is, as we have noted, a very deep envelope of this sort which is in part composed of the elements which form our own air; but, owing to the high temperature of the sphere, these are commingled with many substances which in our earth—at least in its outer parts—have entered in the solid state. Some of the planets, so far as we can discern their conditions, seem also to have gaseous wraps; this is certainly the case with the planet Mars, and even the little we know of the other like spheres justifies the supposition that Jupiter and Saturn, at least, have a like constitution. We may regard an atmosphere, in a word, as representing a normal and long-continued state in the development of the heavenly orbs. In only one of these considerable bodies of the solar system, the moon, do we find tolerably clear evidence that there is no atmosphere.
The atmosphere of the earth is composed mainly of very volatile elements, known as nitrogen and argon. This is commingled with oxygen, also a volatile element. Into this mass a number of other substances enter in varying but always relatively very small proportions. Of these the most considerable are watery vapour and carbon dioxide; the former of these rarely amounts to one per cent of the weight of the air, considering the atmosphere as a whole, and the latter is never more than a small fraction of one per cent in amount. As a whole, the air envelope of the earth should be regarded as a mass of nitrogen and argon, which only rarely, under the influence of conditions which exist in the soil, enters into combinations with other elements by which it assumes a solid form. The oxygen, though a permanent element in the atmosphere, tends constantly to enter into combinations which fix it temporarily or permanently in the earth, in which it forms, indeed, in its combined state about one half the weight of all the mineral substances we know. The carbon dioxide, or carbonic-acid gas, as it is commonly termed, is a most important substance, as it affords plants all that part of their bodies which disappear on burning. It is constantly returned to the atmosphere by the decay of organic matter, as well as by volcanic action.
In addition to the above-noted materials composing the air, all of which are imperatively necessary to the wonderful work accomplished by that envelope, we find a host of other substances which are accidentally, variably, and always in small quantities contained in this realm. Thus near the seashores, and indeed for a considerable distance into the continent, we find the air contains a certain amount of salt so finely divided that it floats in the atmosphere. So, too, we find the air, even on the mountain tops amid eternal snows, charged with small particles of dust, which, though not evident to the unassisted eye, become at once visible when we permit a slender ray of light to enter a dark chamber.
It is commonly asserted that the atmosphere does not effectively extend above the height of forty-five miles; we know that it is densest on the surface of the earth, the most so in those depressions which lie below the level of the sea. This is proved to us by the weight which the air imposes upon the mercury at the open end of a barometric tube. If we could deepen these cavities to the extent of a thousand miles, the pressure would become so great that if the pit were kept free from the heat of the earth the gaseous materials would become liquefied. Upward from the earth's surface at the sea level the atoms and molecules of the air become farther apart until, at the height of somewhere between forty and fifty miles, the quantity of them contained in the ether is so small that we can trace little effect from them on the rays of light which at lower levels are somewhat bent by their action. At yet higher levels, however, meteors appear to inflame by friction against the particles of air, and even at the height of eighty miles very faint clouds have at times been discerned, which are possibly composed of volcanic dust floating in the very rarefied medium, such as must exist at this great elevation.
The air not only exists in the region where we distinctly recognise it; it also occupies the waters and the under earth. In the waters it occurs as a mechanical mixture which is brought about as the rain forms and falls in the air, as the streams flow to the sea, and as the waves roll over the deep and beat against the shores. In the realm of the waters, as well as on the land, the air is necessary for the maintenance of all animal forms; but for its presence such life would vanish from the earth.
Owing to certain peculiarities in its constitution, the atmosphere of our earth, and that doubtless of myriad other spheres, serves as a medium of communication between different regions. It is, as we know, in ceaseless motion at rates which may vary from the speed in the greatest tempests, which may move at the rate of somewhere a hundred and fifty miles an hour, to the very slow movements which occur in caverns, where the transfer is sometimes effected at an almost microscopic rate in the space of a day. The motion of the atmosphere is brought about by the action of heat here and there, and in a trifling way, by the heat from the interior of the earth escaping through hot springs or volcanoes, but almost altogether by the heat of the sun. If we can imagine the earth cut off from the solar radiation, the air would cease to move. We often note how the variable winds fall away in the nighttime. Those who in seeking for the North Pole have spent winters in the long-continued dark of that region have noted that the winds almost cease to blow, the air being disturbed only when a storm originated in the sunlit realm forced its way into the circumpolar darkness.
The sun's heat does not directly disturb the atmosphere; if we could take the solid sphere of the world away, leaving the air, the rays would go straight through, and there would be no winds produced. This is due to the fact that the air permits the direct rays of heat, such as come from the sun, to pass through it with very slight resistance. In an aërial globe such as we have imagined, the rays impinging upon its surface would be slightly thrown out of their path as they are in passing through a lens, but they would journey on in space without in any considerable measure warming the mass. Coming, however, upon the solid earth, the heat rays warm the materials on which they are arrested, bringing them to a higher temperature than the air. Then these heated materials radiate the energy into the air; it happens, however, that this radiant heat can not journey back into space as easily as it came in; therefore the particles of air next the surface acquire a relatively high temperature. Thus a thermometer next the ground may rise to over a hundred degrees Fahrenheit, while at the same time the fleecy clouds which we may observe floating at the height of five or six miles above the surface are composed of frozen water.
The effect of the heated air which acquires its temperature by radiation from the earth's surface is to produce the winds. This it brings about in a very simple manner, though the details of the process have a certain complication. The best illustration of the mode in which the winds are produced is obtained by watching what takes place about an ordinary fire at the bottom of a chimney. As soon as the fire is lit, we observe that the air about it, so far as it is heated, tends upward, drawing the smoke with it. If the air in the chimney be cold, it may not draw well at first; but in a few minutes the draught is established, or, in other words, the heated lower air breaks its way up the shaft, gradually pushing the cooler matter out at the top. In still air we may observe the column from the flue extending about the chimney-top, sometimes to the height of a hundred feet or more before it is broken to pieces. It is well here to note the fact that the energy of the draught in a chimney is, with a given heat of fire and amount of air which is permitted to enter the shaft, directly proportionate to the height; thus in very tall flues, between two and three hundred feet high, which are sometimes constructed, the uprush is at the speed of a gale.
Whenever the air next the surface is so far heated that it may overcome the inertia of the cooler air above, it forces its way up through it in the general manner indicated in the chimney flue. When such a place of uprush is established, the hot air next the surface flows in all directions toward the shaft, joining the expedition to the heights of the atmosphere. Owing to the conditions of the earth's surface, which we shall now proceed to trace, these ascents of heated air belong in two distinct classes—those which move upward through more or less cylindrical chimneys in the atmosphere, shafts which are impermanent, which vary in diameter from a few feet to fifty or perhaps a hundred miles, and which move over the surface of the earth; and another which consists of a broad, beltlike shaft in the equatorial regions, which in a way girdles the earth,remains in about the same place, continually endures, and has a width of hundreds of miles. Of these two classes of uprushes we shall first consider the greatest, which occurs in the central portions of the tropical realm.
Under the equator, owing to the fact that the sun for a considerable belt of land and sea maintains the earth at a high temperature, there is a general updraught which began many million years ago, probably before the origin of life, in the age when our atmosphere assumed its present conditions. Into this region the cooler air from the north and south necessarily flows, in part pressed in by the weight of the cold air which overlies it, but aided in its motion by the fact that the particles which ascend leave place for others to occupy. Over the surfaces of the land within the tropical region this draught toward what we may term the equatorial chimney is perturbed by the irregularities of the surface and many local accidents. But on the sea, where the conditions are uniform, the air moving toward the point of ascent is marked in the trade winds, which blow with a steadfast sweep down toward the equator. Many slight actions, such as the movement of the hot and cold currents of the sea, the local air movements from the lands or from detached islands, somewhat perturb the trade winds, but they remain among the most permanent features in this changeable world. It is doubtful if anything on this sphere except the atoms and molecules of matter have varied as little as the trade winds in the centre of the wide ocean. So steadfast and uniform are they that it is said that the helm and sails of a ship may be set near the west coast of South America and be left unchanged for a voyage which will carry the navigator in their belt across the width of the Pacific.
Rising up from the earth in the tropical belt, the air attains the height of several thousand feet; it then begins to curve off toward the north and south, and at the height of somewhere about three to five miles above the surfaceis again moving horizontally toward either pole; attaining a distance on that journey, it gradually settles down to the surface of the earth, and ceases to move toward higher latitudes. If the earth did not revolve upon its axis the course of these winds along the surface toward the equator, and in the upper air back toward the poles, would be made in what we may call a square manner—that is, the particles of air would move toward the point where they begin to rise upward in due north and south lines, according as they came from the southern or northern hemisphere, and the upper currents or counter trades would retrace their paths also parallel with the meridians or longitude lines. But because the earth revolves from west to east, the course of the trade winds is oblique to the equator, those in the northern hemisphere blowing from northeast to southwest, those in the southern from southeast to northwest. The way in which the motion of the earth affects the direction of these currents is not difficult to understand. It is as follows:
Let us conceive a particle of air situated immediately over the earth's polar axis. Such an atom would by the rotation of the sphere accomplish no motion except, indeed, that it might turn round on its own centre. It would acquire no velocity whatever by virtue of the earth's movement. Then let us imagine the particle moving toward the equator with the speed of an ordinary wind. At every step of its journey toward lower latitudes it would come into regions having a greater movement than those which it had just left. Owing to its inertia, it would thus tend continually to lag behind the particles of matter about it. It would thus fall off to the westward, and, in place of moving due south, would in the northern hemisphere drift to the southwest, and in the southern hemisphere toward the northwest. A good illustration of this action may be obtained from an ordinary turn-table such as is used about railway stations to reverse the position of a locomotive. If the observer will stand in the centreof such a table while it is being turned round he will perceive that his body is not swayed to the right or left. If he will then try to walk toward the periphery of the rotating disk, he will readily note that it is very difficult, if not impossible, to walk along the radius of the circle; he naturally falls behind in the movement, so that his path is a curved line exactly such as is followed by the winds which move toward the equator in the trades. If now he rests a moment on the periphery of the table, so that his body acquires the velocity of the disk at that point, and then endeavours to walk toward the centre, he will find that again he can not go directly; his path deviates in the opposite direction—in other words, the body continually going to a place having a less rate of movement by virtue of the rotation of the earth, on account of its momentum is ever moving faster than the surface over which it passes. This experiment can readily be tried on any small rotating disk, such as a potter's wheel, or by rolling a marble or a shot from the centre to the circumference and from the circumference to the centre. A little reflection will show the inquirer how these illustrations clearly account for the oblique though opposite sets of the trade winds in the upper and lower parts of the air.
The dominating effect of the tropical heat in controlling the movements of the air currents extends, on the ocean surface, in general about as far north and south as the parallels of forty degrees, considerably exceeding the limits of the tropics, those lines where the sun, because of the inclination of the earth's axis, at some time of the year comes just overhead. Between these belts of trade winds there is a strip or belt under the region where the atmosphere is rising from the earth, in which the winds are irregular and have little energy. This region of the "doldrums" or frequent calms is one of much trouble to sailing ships on their voyages from one hemisphere to another. In passing through it their sails are filled only by the airs of local storms, or winds which make their wayinto that part of the sea from the neighbouring continents. Beyond the trade-wind belt, toward the poles, the movements of the atmosphere are dependent in part on the counter trades which descend to the surface of the earth in latitudes higher than that in which the surface or trade winds flow. Thus along our Atlantic coast, and even in the body of the continent, at times when the air is not controlled by some local storm, the counter trade blows with considerable regularity.
The effect of the trade and counter-trade movements of the air on the distribution of temperature over the earth's surface is momentous. In part their influence is due to the direct heat-carrying power of the atmosphere; in larger measure it is brought about by the movement of the ocean waters which they induce. Atmospheric air, when deprived of the water which it ordinarily contains, has very little heat-containing capacity. Practically nearly all the power of conveying heat which it possesses is due to the vapour of water which it contains. By virtue of this moisture the winds do a good deal to transfer heat from the tropical or superheated portion of the earth's surface to the circumpolar or underheated realms. At first, the relatively cool air which journeys toward the equator along the surface of the sea constantly gains in heat, and in that process takes up more and more water, for precisely the same reason that causes anything to dry more rapidly in air which has been warmed next a fire. The result is that before it begins to ascend in the tropical updraught, being much moisture-laden, the atmosphere stores a good deal of heat. As it rises, rarefies, and cools, the moisture descends in the torrential rains which ordinarily fall when the sun is nearly vertical in the tropical belt.
Here comes in a very interesting principle which is of importance in understanding the nature of great storms, either the continuous storm of the tropics or the local and irregular whirlings which occur in various parts of theearth. When the moisture-laden air starts on its upward journey from the earth it has, by virtue of the watery vapour which it contains, a store of energy which becomes applied to promoting the updraught. As it rises, the moisture in the air gathers together or condenses, and in so doing parts with the heat which caused it to evaporate from the ocean surface. For a given weight of water, the amount of heat required to effect the evaporation is very great; this we may roughly judge by observing what a continuous fire is required to send a pint of water into the state of steam. This energy, when it is released by the condensation of water into rain or snow, becomes again heat, and tends somewhat, as does the fire in the chimney, to accelerate the upward passage of the air. The result is that the water which ascends in the equatorial updraught becomes what we may term fuel to promote this important element in the earth's aërial circulation. Trades and counter trades would doubtless exist but for the efficiency of this updraught, which is caused by the condensation of watery vapour, but the movement would be much less than it is.
In the region near the equator, or near the line of highest temperature, which for various reasons does not exactly follow the equator, there is, as we have noticed, a somewhat continuous uprushing current where the air passes upward through an ascending chimney, which in a way girdles the sea-covered part of the earth. In this region the movements of the air are to a great extent under the control of the great continuous updraught. As we go to the north and south we enter realms where the air at the surface of the earth is, by the heat which it acquires from contact with that surface, more or less impelled upward; but there being no permanent updraught for its escape, it from time to time breaks through the roof of cold air which overlies it and makes a temporary channel of passage.Going polarward from the equator, we first encounter these local and temporary upcastings of the air near the margin of the tropical belt. In these districts, at least over the warmer seas, during the time of the year when it is midsummer, and in the regions where the trade winds are not strong enough to sweep the warm and moisture-laden air down to the equatorial belt, the upward tending strain of the atmosphere next the earth often becomes so strong that the overlying air is displaced, forming a channel through which the air swiftly passes. As the moisture condenses in the way before noted, the energy set free serves to accelerate the updraught, and a hurricane is begun. At first the movement is small and of no great speed, but as the amount of air tending upward is likely to be great, as is also the amount of moisture which it contains, the aërial chimney is rapidly enlarged, and the speed of the rising air increased. The atmosphere next the surface of the sea flows in toward the channel of escape; its passage is marked by winds which are blowing toward the centre. On the periphery of the movement the particles move slowly, but as they win their way toward the centre they travel with accelerating velocity. On the principle which determines the whirling movement of the water escaping through a hole in the bottom of a basin, the particles of the air do not move on straight lines toward the centre, but journey in spiral paths, at first along the surface, and then ascending.
We have noted the fact that in a basin of water the direction of the whirling is what we may term accidental—that is, dependent on conditions so slight that they elude our observation—but in hurricanes a certain fact determines in an arbitrary way the direction in which the spin shall take place. As soon as such a movement of the air attains any considerable diameter, although in its beginning it may have spun in a direction brought about by local accidents, it will be affected by the diverse rates of travel, by virtue of the earth's rotation, of the air on itsequatorial and polar sides. On the equatorial side this air is moving more rapidly than it is on the polar side. By observing the water passing from a basin this principle, with a few experiments, can be made plain. The result is to cause these great whirlwinds of the hurricanes of higher latitudes to whirl round from right to left in the northern hemisphere and in the reverse way in the southern. The general system of the air currents still further affects these, as other whirling storms, by driving their centres or chimneys over the surface of the earth. The principle on which this is done may be readily understood by observing how the air shaft above a chimney, through which we may observe the smoke to rise during a time of calm, is drawn off to one side by the slight current which exists even when we feel no wind; it may also be discerned in the little dust whirls which form in the streets on a summer day when the air is not much disturbed. While they spin they move on in the direction of the air drift. In this way a hurricane originating in the Gulf of Mexico may gradually journey under the influence of the counter trades across the Antilles, or over southern Florida, and thence pursue a devious northerly course, generally near the Atlantic coast and in the path of the Gulf Stream, until it has travelled a thousand miles or more toward the North Atlantic. The farther it goes northward the less effectively it is fed with warm and moisture-laden air, the feebler its movement becomes, until at length it is broken up by the variable winds which it encounters.
A very interesting and, from the point of view of the navigator, important peculiarity of these whirls is that at their centre there is a calm, similar in origin and nature to the calm under the equator between the trade-wind belts. Both these areas are in the field where the air is ascending, and therefore at the surface of the earth does not affect the sails of ships, though if men ever come to use flying machines and sail through the tropics at a good height above the sea it will be sensible enough. The difference between the doldrum of the equator and that of the hurricane, besides their relative areas, is that one is a belt and the other a disk. If the seafarer happens to sail on a path which leads him through the hurricane centre, he will first discern, as from the untroubled air and sea he approaches the periphery of the storm, the horizon toward the disturbance beset by troubled clouds, all moving in one direction. Entering beneath this pall, he finds a steadily increasing wind, which in twenty miles of sailing may, and in a hundred miles surely will, compel him to take in all but his storm sails, and is likely to bring his ship into grave peril. The most furious winds the mariner knows are those which he encounters as he approaches the still centre. These trials are made the more appalling by the fact that in the furious part of the whirl the rain, condensing from the ascending air, falls in torrents, and the electricity generated in the condensation gives rise to vivid lightning. If the storm-beset ship can maintain her way, in a score or two of miles of journey toward the centre, generally very quickly, it passes into the calm disk, where the winds, blowing upward, cease to be felt. In this area the ship is not out of danger, for the waves, rolling in from the disturbed areas on either side, make a torment of cross seas, where it is hard to control the movements of a sailing vessel because the impulse of the winds is lost. Passing through this disk of calm, the ship re-encounters in reverse order the furious portion of the whirl, afterward the lessening winds, until it escapes again into the airs which are not involved in the great torment.
In the old days, before Dove's studies of storms had shown the laws of hurricane movement, unhappy shipmasters were likely to be caught and retained in hurricanes, and to battle with them for weeks until their vessels were beaten to pieces. Now the "Sailing Directions," which are the mariner's guide, enable him, from the direction of the winds and the known laws of motion of the storm centre, to sail out of the danger, so that in mostcases he may escape calamity. It is otherwise with the people who dwell upon the land over which these atmospheric convulsions sweep. Fortunately, where these great whirlwinds trespass on the continent, they quickly die out, because of the relative lack of moisture which serves to stimulate the uprush which creates them. Thus in their more violent forms hurricanes are only felt near the sea, and generally on islands and peninsulas. There the hurricane winds, by the swiftness of their movement, which often attains a speed of a hundred miles or more, apply a great deal of energy to all obstacles in their path. The pressure thus produced is only less destructive than that which is brought about by the tornadoes, which are next to be described.
There is another effect from hurricanes which is even more destructive to life than that caused by the direct action of the wind. In these whirlings great differences in atmospheric pressure are brought about in contiguous areas of sea. The result is a sudden elevation in the level of one part of the water. These disturbances, where the shore lands are low and thickly peopled, as is the case along the western coast of the Bay of Bengal, may produce inundations which are terribly destructive to life and property. They are known also in southern Florida and along the islands of the Caribbean, but in that region are not so often damaging to mankind.
Fortunately, hurricanes are limited to a very small part of the tropical district. They occur only in those regions, on the eastern faces of tropical lands, where the general westerly set of the winds favours the accumulation of great bodies of very warm, moist air next the surface of the sea. The western portion of the Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbean, the Bay of Bengal, and the southeastern portion of Asia are especially liable to their visitations. They sometimes develop, though with less fury, in other parts of the tropics. On the western coast of South America and Africa, where the oceans are visited by the dry landwinds, and where the waters are cooled by currents setting in from high latitudes, they are unknown.
Only less in order of magnitude than the hurricanes are the circular storms known as cyclones. These occur on the continents, especially where they afford broad plains little interrupted by mountain ranges. They are particularly well exhibited in that part of North America north of Mexico and south of Hudson Bay. Like the hurricanes, they appear to be due to the inrush of relatively warm air entering an updraught which had been formed in the overlying, cooler portions of the atmosphere. They are, however, much less energetic, and often of greater size than the hurricane whirl. The lack of energy is probably due to the comparative dryness of the air. The greater width of the ascending column may perhaps be accounted for by the fact that, originating at a considerable height above the sea, they have a less thickness of air to break through, and so the upward setting column is readily made broad.
The cyclones of North America appear generally to originate in the region of the Rocky Mountains, though it is probable that in some instances, perhaps in many, the upward set of the air which begins the storm originates in the ocean along the Pacific coast. They gather energy as they descend the great sloping plain leading eastward from the Rocky Mountains to the central portion of the great continental valley. Thence they move on across the country to the Atlantic coast. Not infrequently they continue on over the ocean to the European continent. The eastward passage of the storm centre is due to the prevailing eastward movement of the air in its upper part throughout that portion of the northern hemisphere. Commonly they incline somewhat to the northward of east in their journey. In all cases the winds appear to blow spirally into the common storm centre. There is the same doldrum area or calm field in the centre of the storm that we note between the trade winds and in the middle of ahurricane disk, though this area is less defined than in the other instances, and the forward motion of the storm at a considerable speed is in most cases characteristic of the disturbance. On the front of one of these storms in North America the winds commonly begin in the northeast, thence they veer by the east to the southwest. At this stage in the movement the storm centre has passed by, the rainfall commonly ceases, and cold, dry winds setting to the northwestward set in. This is caused by the fact that the ascending air, having attained a height above the earth, settles down behind the storm, forming an anticyclone or mass of dry air, which presses against the retreating side of the great whirlwind.
In front of the storm the warm and generally moist relatively warm air, pressing in toward the point of uprise and overlaid by the upper cold air, is brought into a condition where it tends to form small subordinate shafts up through which it whirls on the same principle, but with far greater intensity than the main ascending column. The reason for the violence of this movement is that the difference in temperature of the air next the surface and that at the height of a few thousand feet is great. As might be expected, these local spinnings are most apt to occur in the season when the air next the earth is relatively warm, and they are aptest to take place in the half of the advancing front lying between the east and south, for the reason that there the highest temperatures and the greatest humidity are likely to coexist. In that part of the field, during the time when the storm is advancing from the Rocky Mountains to the Atlantic, a dozen or more of these spinning uprushes may be produced, though few of them are likely to be of large size or of great intensity.
The secondary storms of cyclones, such as are above noted, receive the name of tornadoes. They are frequent and terrible visitations of the country from northern Texas, Florida, and Alabama to about the line of the Great Lakes; they are rarely developed in the region westof central Kansas, and only occasionally do they exhibit much energy in the region east of the plain-lands of the Ohio Valley. Although known in other lands, they nowhere, so far as our observations go, exhibit the paroxysmal intensity which they show in the central portion of the North American continent. There the air which they affect acquires a speed of movement and a fury of action unknown in any other atmospheric disturbances, even in those of the hurricanes.
The observer who has a chance to note from an advantageous position the development of a tornado observes that in a tolerably still air, or at least an air unaffected by violent winds—generally in what is termed a "sultry" state of the atmosphere—the storm clouds in the distance begin to form a kind of funnel-shaped dependence, which gradually extends until it appears to touch the earth. As the clouds are low, this downward-growing column probably in no case is observed for the height of more than three or four thousand feet. As the funnel descends, the clouds above and about it may be seen to take on a whirling movement around the centre, and under favourable circumstances an uprush of vapours may be noted in the centre of the swaying shaft. As the whirl comes nearer, the roar of the disturbance, which at a distance is often compared to the sound made by a threshing machine or to that of distant musketry, increases in loudness until it becomes overwhelming. When a storm such as this strikes a building, it is not only likely to be razed by the force of the wind, but it may be exploded, as by the action of gunpowder fired within its walls, through the sudden expansion of the air which it contains. In the centre of the column, although it rarely has a diameter of more than a few hundred feet, the uprush is so swift that it makes a partial vacuum. The air, striving to get into the space which it is eager to occupy, is whirling about at such a rate that the centrifugal motion which it thus acquires restrains its entrance. In this way there may be, as thecolumn rapidly moves by, a difference of pressure amounting probably to what the mercury of a barometer would indicate by four or five inches of fall. Unless the structure is small and its walls strong, its roof and sides are apt to be blown apart by this difference of pressure and the consequent expansion of the contained air. In some cases where wooden buildings have withstood this curious action the outer clapboards have been blown off by the expansion of the small amount of air contained in the interspaces between that covering and the lath and plaster within (see Fig. 9).