Where, as is occasionally the case in deep mines, or on some bare rocky cliff of great height, we can trace a dike in its upward course through a long distance, we find that we can never distinctly discover the lower point of its extension. No one has ever seen in a clear way the point of origin of such an injection. We can, however, often follow it upward to the place where there was no longer a rift into which it could enter. In its upward path the molten matter appears generally to have followed some previously existing fracture, a joint plane or a fault, which generally runs through the rocks on those planes. We can observe evidence that the material was in the state of igneous fluidity by the fact that it has baked the country rocks on either side of the fissure, the amount of baking being in proportion to the width of the dike, and thus to the amount of heat which it could give forth. A dike sixinches in diameter will sometimes barely sear its walls, while one a hundred feet in width will often alter the strata for a great distance on either side. In some instances, as in the coal beds near Richmond, Va., dikes occasionally cut through beds of bituminous coal. In these cases we find that the coal has been converted into coke for many feet either side of a considerable injection. The fact that the dike material was molten is still further shown by the occurrence in it of fragments which it has taken up from the walls, and which may have been partly melted, and in most cases have clearly been much heated.
Where dikes extend up through stratified beds which are separated from each other by distinct layers, along which the rock is not firmly bound together, it now and then happens, as noted by Mr. G.K. Gilbert, of the United States Geological Survey, that the lava has forced its way horizontally between these layers, gradually uplifting the overlying mass, which it did not break through, into a dome-shaped elevation. These side flows from dikes are termed laccolites, a word which signifies the pool-like nature of the stony mass which they form between the strata.
In many regions, where the earth has worn down so as to reveal the zone of dikes which was formed at a great depth, the surface of the country is fairly laced with these intrusions. Thus on Cape Ann, a rocky isle on the east coast of Massachusetts, having an area of about twenty square miles, the writer, with the assistance of his colleague, Prof. R.S. Tarr, found about four hundred distinct dikes exhibited on the shore line where the rocks had been swept bare by the waves. If the census of these intrusions could have been extended over the whole island, it would probably have appeared that the total number exceeded five thousand. In other regions square miles can be found where the dikes intercepted by the surface occupy an aggregate area greater than that of the rocks into which they have been intruded.
Now and then, but rarely, the student of dikes finds one where the bordering walls, in place of having the clean-cut appearance which they usually exhibit, has its sides greatly worn away and much melted, as if by the long-continued passage of the igneous fluid through the crevice. Such dikes are usually very wide, and are probably the paths through which lavas found their way to the surface of the earth, pouring forth in a volcanic eruption. In some cases we can trace their relation to ancient volcanic cones which have worn down in all their part which were made up of incoherent materials, so that there remains only the central pipe, which has been preserved from decay by the coherent character of the lava which filled it.
The hypothesis that dikes are driven upward into strata by the pressure of the beds which overlie materials hot and soft enough to be put in motion when a fissure enters them, and that their movement upward through the crevice is accounted for by this pressure, makes certain features of these intrusions comprehensible. Seeing that very long, slender dikes are found penetrating the rock, which could not have had a high temperature, it becomes difficult to understand how the lava could have maintained its fluidity; but on the supposition that it was impelled forward by a strong pressure, and that the energy thus transmitted through it was converted into heat, we discover a means whereby it could have been retained in the liquid condition, even when forced for long distances through very narrow channels. Moreover, this explanation accounts for the fact which has long remained unexplained that dikes, except those formed about volcanic craters, rarely, if ever, rise to the surface.
The materials contained in dikes differ exceedingly in their chemical and mineral character. These variations are due to the differences in Nature of the deposits whence they come, and also in a measure to exchanges which take place between their own substance and that of the rocksbetween which they are deposited. This process often has importance of an economic kind, for it not infrequently leads to the formation of metalliferous veins or other aggregations of ores, either in the dike itself or in the country rock. The way in which this is brought about may be easily understood by a familiar example. If flesh be placed in water which has the same temperature, no exchange of materials will take place; but if the water be heated, a circulation will be set up, which in time will bring a large part of the soluble matter into the surrounding water. This movement is primarily dependent on differences of temperature, and consequently differences in the quantity of soluble substances which the water seeks to take up. When a dike is injected into cooler rocks, such a slow circulation is induced. The water contained in the interstices of the stone becomes charged with mineral materials, if such exist in positions where it can obtain possession of them, and as cooling goes on, these dissolved materials are deposited in the manner of veins. These veins are generally laid down on the planes of contact between the two kinds of stone, but they may be formed in any other cavities which exist in the neighbourhood. The formation of such veins is often aided by the considerable shrinkage of the lava in the dike, which, when it cools, tends to lose about fifteen per cent of its volume, and is thus likely to leave a crevice next the boundary walls. Ores thus formed afford some of the commonest and often the richest mineral deposits. At Leadville, in Colorado, the great silver-bearing lodes probably were produced in this manner, wherein lavas, either those of dikes or those which flowed in the open air, have come in contact with limestones. The mineral materials originally in the once molten rock or in the limy beds was, we believe, laid down on ancient sea floors in the remains of organic forms, which for their particular uses took the materials from the old sea water. The vein-making action has served to assemble these scattered bits of metal intothe aggregation which constitutes a workable deposit. In time, as the rocks wear down, the materials of the veins are again taken into solution and returned to the sea, thence perhaps to tread again the cycle of change.
In certain dikes, and sometimes also, perhaps, in lavas known as basalts, which have flowed on the surface, the rock when cooling, from the shrinkage which then occurs, has broken in a very regular way, forming hexagonal columns which are more or less divided on their length by joints. When worn away by the agencies of decay, especially where the material forms steep cliffs, a highly artificial effect is produced, which is often compared, where cut at right angles to the columns, to pavements, or, where the division is parallel to the columns, to the pipes of an organ.
What we know of dikes inclines us to the opinion that as a whole they represent movements of softened rock where the motion-compelling agent is not mainly the expansion of the contained water which gives rise to volcanic ejection, but rather in large part due to the weight of superincumbent strata setting in motion materials which were somewhat softened, and which tended to creep, as do the clays in deep coal mines. It is evident, however; it is, moreover, quite natural, that dike work is somewhat mingled with that produced by the volcanic forces; but while the line between the two actions is not sharp, the discrimination is important, and occurs with a distinctness rather unusual on the boundary line between two adjacent fields of phenomena.
We have now to consider the general effects of the earth's interior heat so far as that body of temperature tends to drive materials from the depths of the earth to the surface. This group of influences is one of the most important which operates on our sphere; as we shall shortly see, without such action the earth would in time become an unfit theatre for the development of organiclife. To perceive the effect of these movements, we must first note that in the great rock-constructing realm of the seas organic life is constantly extracting from the water substances, such as lime, potash, soda, and a host of other substances necessary for the maintenance of high-grade organisms, depositing these materials in the growing strata. Into these beds, which are buried as fast as they form, goes not only these earthy materials, but a great store of the sea water as well. The result would be in course of time a complete withdrawal into the depths of the earth of those substances which play a necessary part in organic development. The earth would become more or less completely waterless on its surface, and the rocks exposed to view would be composed mainly of silica, the material which to a great extent resists solution, and therefore avoids the dissolving which overtakes most other kinds of rocks. Here comes in the machinery of the hot springs, the dikes, and the volcanoes. These agents, operating under the influence of the internal heat of the earth, are constantly engaged in bearing the earthy matter, particularly its precious more solvent parts, back to the surface. The hot springs and volcanoes work swiftly and directly, and return the water, the carbon dioxide, and a host of other vaporizable and soluble and fusible substances to the realm of solar activity, to the living surface zone of the earth. The dikes operate less immediately, but in the end to the same effect. They lift their materials miles above the level where they were originally laid, probably from a zone which is rarely if ever exposed to view, placing them near the surface, where the erosive agents can readily find access to them.
Of the three agents which serve to export earth materials from its depths, volcanoes are doubtless the most important. They send forth the greater part of the water which is expelled from the rocks. Various computations which the writer has made indicate that an ordinary volcano, such as Ætna, in times of most intense explosion,may send forth in the form of steam one fourth of a cubic mile or more of water during each day of its discharge, and in a single great eruption may pour forth several times this quantity. In its history Ætna has probably returned to the atmosphere some hundred cubic miles of water which but for the process would have remained permanently locked up in its rock prison.
The ejection of rock material, though probably on the average less in quantity than the water which escapes, is also of noteworthy importance. The volcanoes of Java and the adjacent isles have, during the last hundred and twenty years, delivered to the seas more earth material than has been carried into those basins by the great rivers. If we could take account of all the volcanic ejections which have occurred in this time, we should doubtless find that the sum of the materials thus cast forth into the oceans was several times as great as that which was delivered from the lands by all the superficial agents which wear them away. Moreover, while the material from the land, except the small part which is in a state of complete solution, all falls close to the shore, the volcanic waste, because of its fine division or because of the blebs of air which its masses contain, may float for many years before it finds its way to the bottom, it may be at the antipodes of the point at which it came from the earth. While thus journeying through the sea the rock matter from the volcanoes is apt to become dissolved in water; it is, indeed, doubtful if any considerable part of that which enters the ocean goes by gravitation to its floor. The greater portion probably enters the state of solution and makes its way thence through the bodies of plants and animals again into the ponderable state.
If an observer could view the earth from the surface of the moon, he would probably each day behold one of these storms which the volcanoes send forth. In the fortnight of darkness, even with the naked eye, it would probably be possible to discern at any time several eruptions,some of which would indicate that the earth's surface was ravaged by great catastrophes. The nearer view of these actions shows us that although locally and in small measure they are harmful to the life of the earth, they are in a large way beneficent.
The frequent mention which it has been necessary to make of soil phenomena in the preceding chapters shows how intimately this feature in the structure of the earth is blended with all the elements of its physical history. It is now necessary for us to take up the phenomena of soils in a consecutive manner.
The study of any considerable river basin enables us to trace the more important steps which lead to the destructure and renovation of the earth's detrital coating. In such an interpretation we note that everywhere the rocks which were built on the sea bottom, and more or less made over in the great laboratory of the earth's interior, are at the surface, when exposed to the conditions of the atmosphere, in process of being taken to pieces and returned to the sea. This action goes on everywhere; every drop of rain helps it. It is aided by frost, or even by the changes of expansion and contraction which occur in the rocks from variations of heat. The result is that, except where the slopes are steep, the surface is quickly covered with a layer of fragments, all of which are in the process of decay, and ready to afford some food to plants. Even where the rock appears bare, it is generally covered with lichens, which, adhering to it, obtain a share of nutriment from the decayed material which they help to hold on the slope. When they have retained a thin sheet of thedébris, mosses and small flowering plants help the work of retaining thedetritus. Soon the strong-rooted bushes and trees win a foothold, and by sending their rootlets, which are at first small but rapidly enlarge, into the crevices, they hasten the disruption of the stones.
If the construction of soil goes on upon a steep cliff, the quantity retained on the slope may be small, but at the base we find a talus, composed of the fragments not held by the vegetation, which gradually increases as the cliff wears down, until the original precipice may be quite obliterated beneath a soil slope. At first this process is rapid; it becomes gradually slower and slower as the talus mounts up the cliff and as the cliff loses its steepness, until finally a gentle slope takes the place of the steep.
From the highest points in any river valley to the sea level the broken-up rock, which we term soil, is in process of continuous motion. Everywhere the rain water, flowing over the surface or soaking through the porous mass, is conveying portions of the material which is taken into solution in a speedy manner to the sea. Everywhere the expansion of the soil in freezing, or the movements imposed on it by the growth of roots, by the overturning of trees, or by the innumerable borings and burrowings which animals make in the mass, is through the action of gravitation slowly working down the slope. Every little disturbance of the grains or fragments of the soil which lifts them up causes them when they fall to descend a little way farther toward the sea level. Working toward the streams, the materials of the soil are in time delivered to those flowing waters, and by them urged speedily, though in most cases interruptedly, toward the ocean.
There is another element in the movement of the soils which, though less appreciable, is still of great importance. The agents of decay which produce and remove the detritus, the chemical changes of the bed rock, and the mechanical action which roots apply to them, along with the solutional processes, are constantly lowering the surface of the mass. In this way we can often prove that a soil continuously existing has worked downward through many thousand feet of strata. In this process of downgoing the country on which the layer rests may have greatly changed its form, but the deposit, under favourable conditions, may continue to retain some trace of the materials which it derived from beds which have long since disappeared, their position having been far up in the spaces now occupied by the air. Where the slopes are steep and streams abound, we rarely find detritus which belonged in rock more than a hundred feet above the present surface of the soil. Where, however, as on those isolated table-lands or buttes which abound in certain portions of the Mississippi Valley, as well as in many other countries, we find a patch of soil lying on a nearly level surface, which for geologic ages has not felt the effect of streams, we may discover, commingled in thedébris, the harder wreckage derived from the decay of a thousand feet or more of vanished strata.
When we consider the effect of organic life on the processes which go on in the soil, we first note the large fact that the development of all land vegetation depends upon the existence of this detritus—in a word, on the slow movement of the decaying rocky matter from the point where it is disrupted to its field of rest in the depths of the sea. The plants take their food from the portion of this rocky waste which is brought into solution by the waters which penetrate the mass. On the plants the animals feed, and so this vast assemblage of organisms is maintained. Not only does the land life maintain itself on the soil, and give much to the sea, but it serves in various ways to protect this detrital coating from too rapid destruction, and to improve its quality. To see the nature of this work we should visit a region where primeval forests still lie upon the slopes of a hilly region. In the body of such a wood we find next the surface a coating of decayed vegetable matter, made up of the falling leaves, bark, branches, and trunks which are constantly descending to the earth. Ordinarily, this layer is a foot or more in thickness; at thetop it is almost altogether composed of vegetable matter; at the bottom it verges into the true soil. An important effect of this decayed vegetation is to restrain the movement of the surface water. Even in the heaviest rains, provided the mass be not frozen, the water is taken into it and delivered in the manner of springs to the larger streams. We can better note the measure of this effect by observing the difference in the ground covered by this primeval forest and that which we find near by which has been converted into tilled fields. With the same degree of rapidity in the flow, the distinct stream channels on the tilled ground are likely to be from twenty to a hundred times in length what they are on the forest bed. The result is that while the brook which drains the forested area maintains a tolerably constant flow of clean water, the other from the tilled ground courses only in times of heavy rain, and then is heavily charged with mud. In the virgin conditions of the soil the downwear is very slow; in its artificial state this wearing goes on so rapidly that the sloping fields are likely to be worn to below the soil level in a few score years.
Not only does the natural coating of vegetation, such as our forests impose upon the country, protect the soil from washing away, but the roots of the larger plants are continually at work in various ways to increase the fertility and depth of the stratum. In the form of slender fibrils these underground branches enter the joints and bed planes of the rock, and there growing they disrupt the materials, giving them a larger surface on which decay may operate. These bits, at first of considerable size, are in turn broken up by the same action. Where the underlying rocks afford nutritious materials, the branches of our tap-rooted trees sometimes find their way ten feet or more below the base of the true soil. Not only do they thus break up the stones, but the nutrition which they obtain in the depths is brought up and deposited in the parts above the ground, as well as in the roots which lie in the true soil, so thatwhen the tree dies it becomes available for other plants. Thus in the forest condition of a country the amount of rock material contributed to the deposit in general so far exceeds that which is taken away to the rivers by the underground water as to insure the deepening of the soil bed to the point where only the strongest roots—those belonging to our tap-rooted trees—can penetrate through it to the bed rocks.
Almost all forests are from time to time visited by winds which uproot the trees. When they are thus rent from the earth, the underground branches often form a disk containing a thick tangle of stones and earth, and having a diameter of ten or fifteen feet. The writer has frequently observed a hundred cubic feet of soil matter, some of it taken from the depth of a yard or more, thus uplifted into the air. In the path of a hurricane or tornado we may sometimes find thousands of acres which have been subjected to this rude overturning—a natural ploughing. As the roots rot away, thedébriswhich they held falls outside of the pit, thus forming a little hillock along the side of the cavity. After a time the thrusting action of other roots and the slow motion of the soil down the slope restore the surface from its hillocky character to its original smoothness; but in many cases the naturalist who has learned to discern with his feet may note these irregularities long after it has been recovered with the forest.
Great as is the effect of plants on the soil, that influence is almost equalled by the action of the animals which have the habit of entering the earth, finding there a temporary abiding place. The number of these ground forms is surprisingly great. It includes, indeed, a host of creatures which are efficient agents in enriching the earth. The species of earthworms, some of which occupy forested districts as well as the fields, have the habit of passing the soil material through their bodies, extracting from the mass such nutriment as it may contain. In this manner the particles of mineral matter become pulverized, and ina measure affected by chemical changes in the bodies of the creatures, and are thus better fitted to afford plant food. Sometimes the amount of the earth which the creatures take in in moving through their burrows and void upon the surface is sufficient to form annually a layer on the surface of the ground having a depth of one twentieth of an inch or more. It thus may well happen that the soil to the depth of two or three feet is completely overturned in the course of a few hundred years. As the particles which the creatures devour are rather small, the tendency is to accumulate the finer portions of the soil near the surface of the earth, where by solution they may contribute to the needs of the lowly plants. It is probably due to the action of these creatures that small relics of ancient men, such as stone tools, are commonly found buried at a considerable depth beneath the earth, and rarely appear upon the surface except where it has been subjected to deep ploughing or to the action of running streams.
Along with the earthworms, the ants labour to overturn the soil; frequently they are the more effective of the two agents. The common species, though they make no permanent hillocks, have been observed by the writer to lay upon the surface each year as much as a quarter of an inch of sand and other fine materials which they have brought up from a considerable depth. In many regions, particularly in those occupied by glacial drift, and pebbly alluvium along the rivers, the effect of this action, like that of earthworms, is to bring to the surface the finer materials, leaving the coarser pebbles in the depths. In this way they have changed the superficial character of the soil over great areas; we may say, indeed, over a large part of the earth, and this in a way which fits it better to serve the needs of the wild plants as well as the uses of the farmer.
Many thousand species of insects, particularly the larger beetles, have the habit of passing their larval statein the under earth. Here they generally excavate burrows, and thus in a way delve the soil. As many of them die before reaching maturity, their store of organic matter is contributed to the mass, and serves to nourish the plants. If the student will carefully examine a section of the earth either in its natural or in its tilled state, he will be surprised to find how numerous the grubs are. They may often be found to the number of a score or more of each cubic foot of material. Many of the species which develop underground come from eggs which have carefully been encased in organic matter before their deposition in the earth. Thus some of the carrion beetles are in the habit of laying their eggs in the bodies of dead birds or field mice, which they then bury to the depth of some inches in the earth. In this way nearly all the small birds and mammals of our woods disappear from view in a few hours after they are dead. Other species make balls from the dung of cattle in which they lay their eggs, afterward rolling the little spheres, it may be for hundreds of feet, to the chambers in the soil which they have previously prepared. In this way a great deal of animal matter is introduced into the earth, and contributes to its fertility.
Many of our small mammals have the habit of making their dwelling places in the soil. Some of them, such as the moles, normally abide in the subterranean realm for all their lives. Others use the excavations as places of retreat. In any case, these excavations serve to move the particles of the soil about, and the materials which the animals drag into the earth, as well as the excrement of the creatures, act to enrich it. This habit of taking food underground is not limited to the mammals; it is common with the ants, and even the earthworms, as noted by Charles Darwin in his wonderful essay on these creatures, are accustomed to drag into their burrows bits of grass and the slender leaves of pines. It is not known what purpose they attain by these actions, but it is sufficiently common somewhat to affect the conditions of the soil.
The result of these complicated works done by animals and plants on the soil is that the material to a considerable depth are constantly being supplied with organic matter, which, along with the mineral material, constitutes that part of the earth which can support vegetation. Experiment will readily show that neither crushed rock nor pure vegetable mould will of itself serve to maintain any but the lowliest vegetation. It requires that the two materials be mixed in order that the earth may yield food for ordinary plants, particularly for those which are of use to man, as crops. On this account all the processes above noted whereby the waste of plant and animal life is carried below the surface are of the utmost importance in the creation and preservation of the soil. It has been found, indeed, in almost all cases, necessary for the farmer to maintain the fertility of his fields to plough-in quantities of such organic waste. By so doing he imitates the work which is effected in virgin soil by natural action. As the process is costly in time and material, it is often neglected or imperfectly done, with the result that the fields rapidly diminish in fertility.
The way in which the buried organic matter acts upon the soil is not yet thoroughly understood. In part it accomplishes the results by the materials which on its decay it contributes to the soil in a state in which they may readily be dissolved and taken up by the roots into their sap; in part, however, it is believed that they better the conditions by affording dwelling places for a host of lowly species, such as the forms which are known as bacteria. The organisms probably aid in the decomposition of the mineral matter, and in the conversion of nitrogen, which abounds in the air or the soil, into nitrates of potash and soda—substances which have a very great value as fertilizers. Some effect is produced by the decay of the foreign matter brought into the soil, which as it passes away leaves channels through which the soil water can more readily pass.
By far the most general and important effect arising from the decay of organic matter in the earth is to be found in the carbon dioxide which is formed as the oxygen of the air combines with the carbon which all organic material contains. As before noted, water thus charged has its capacity for taking other substances into solution vastly increased, and on this solvent action depends in large part the decay of the bed rocks and the solution of materials which are to be appropriated by the plants.
Having now sketched the general conditions which lead to the formation of soils, we must take account of certain important variations in their conditions due to differences in the ways in which they are formed and preserved. These matters are not only of interest to the geologist, but are of the utmost importance to the life of mankind, as well as all the lower creatures which dwell upon the lands. First, we should note that soils are divisible into three great groups, which, though not sharply parted from each other, are sufficiently peculiar for the purposes of classification. Where the earth material has been derived from the rocks which nearly or immediately underlie it, we have a group of soils which may be entitled those of immediate derivation—that is, derived from rocks near by, or from beds which once overlaid the level and have since been decayed away. Next, we have alluvial soils, those composed of materials which have been transported by streams, commonly from a great distance, and laid down on their flood plains. Third, the soils the mineral matters of which have been brought into their position by the action of glaciers; these in a way resemble those formed by rivers, but the materials are generally imperfectly sorted, coarse and fine being mingled together. Last of all, we have the soils due to the accumulation of blown dust or blown sand, which, unlike the others, occupy but a small part of the land surface. It would be possible, indeed, to make yet another division, including those areas which when emerging from the sea were covered with fine, uncemented detritus ready at once to serve the purposes of a soil. Only here and there, and but seldom, do we find soils of this nature.
It is characteristic of soils belonging to the group to which we have given the title of immediate derivation that they have accumulated slowly, that they move very gradually down the slopes on which they lie, and that in all cases they represent, with a part of their mass at least, levels of rock which have disappeared from the region which they occupied. The additions made to their mass are from below, and that mass is constantly shrinking, generally at a pretty rapid rate, by the mineral matter which is dissolved and goes away with the spring water. They also are characteristically thin on steep slopes, thickening toward the base of the incline, where the diminished grade permits the soil to move slowly, and therefore to accumulate.
In alluvial soils we find accumulations which are characterized by growth on their upper surfaces, and by the distant transportation of the materials of which they are composed. In these deposits the outleaching removes vast amounts of the materials, but so long as the floods from time to time visit their surfaces the growth of the deposits is continued. This growth rarely takes place from the waste of the bed rocks on which the alluvium lies. It is characteristic of alluvial soils that they are generally made up ofdébrisderived from fields where the materials have undergone the change which we have noted in the last paragraph; therefore these latter deposits have throughout the character which renders the mineral materials easily dissolved. Moreover, the mass as it is constructed is commonly mingled with a great deal of organic waste, which serves to promote its fertility. On these accounts alluvial grounds, though they vary considerably in fertility, commonly afford the most fruitful fields of any region. They have, moreover, the signal advantage that they often may be refreshed by allowing the flood watersto visit them, an action which but for the interference of man commonly takes place once each year. Thus in the valley of the Nile there are fields which have been giving rich grain harvests probably for more than four thousand years, without any other effective fertilizing than that derived from the mud of the great river.
The group of glaciated soils differs in many ways from either of those mentioned. In it we find the mineral matter to have been broken up, transported, and accumulated without the influence of those conditions which ordinarily serve to mix rockdébriswith organic matter during the process by which it is broken into bits. When vegetation came to preoccupy the fields made desolate by glacial action, it found in most places more than sufficient material to form soils, but the greater part of the matter was in the condition of pebbles of very hard rock and sand grains, fragments of silex. Fortunately, the broken-up state of this material, by exposing a great surface of the rocky matter to decay, has enabled the plants to convert a portion of the mass into earth fit for the uses of their roots. But as the time which has elapsed since the disappearance of the glaciers is much less than that occupied in the formation of ordinary soil, this decay has in most cases not yet gone very far, so that in a cubic foot of glaciated waste the amount of material available for plants is often only a fraction of that held in the soils of immediate derivation.
In the greater portion of the fields occupied by glacial waste the processes which lead to the introduction of organic matter into the earth have not gone far enough to set in effective work the great laboratory which has to operate in order to give fertile soil. The pebbles hinder the penetration of the roots as well as the movement of insects and other animals. There has not been time enough for the overturning of trees to bring about a certain admixture of vegetable matter with the soil—in a word, the process of soil-making, though the first condition, that of broken-up rock, has been accomplished, is as yet very incomplete. It needs, indeed, care in the introduction of organic matter for its completion.
It is characteristic of glacial soils that they are indefinitely deep. This often is a disadvantageous feature, for the reason that the soil water may pass so far down into the earth that the roots are often deprived of the moisture which they need, and which in ordinary soils is retained near the surface by the hard underlayer. On the other hand, where the glacial waste is made up of pebbles formed from rocks of varied chemical composition, which contain a considerable share of lime, potash, soda, and other substances which are required by plants, the very large surface which they expose to decay provides the soil with a continuous enrichment. In a cubic foot of pebbly glacial earth we often find that the mass offers several hundred times as much surface to the action of decay as is afforded by the underlying solid bed rock from which a soil of immediate derivation has to win its mineral supply. Where the pebbly glacial waste is provided with a mixture of vegetable matter, the process of decay commonly goes forward with considerable rapidity. If the supply of such matter is large, such as may be produced by ploughing in barnyard manure or green crops, the nutritive value of the earth may be brought to a very high point.
It is a familiar experience in regions where glacial soils exist that the earth beneath the swamps when drained is found to be extraordinarily well suited for farming purposes. On inspecting the pebbles from such places, we observe that they are remarkably decayed. Where the masses contain large quantities of feldspar, as is the case in the greater part of our granitic and other crystalline rocks, this material in its decomposition is converted into kaolin or feldspar clay, and gives the stones a peculiar white appearance, which marks the decomposition, and indicates the process by which a great variety of valuablesoil ingredients are brought into a state where they may be available for plants.
In certain parts of the glacial areas, particularly in the region near the margin of the ice sheet, where the glacier remained in one position for a considerable time, we find extensive deposits of silicious sand, formed of the materials which settled from the under-ice stream, near where they escaped from the glacial cavern. These kames and sand plains, because of the silicious nature of their materials and the very porous nature of the soil which they afford, are commonly sterile, or at most render a profit to the tiller by dint of exceeding care. Thus in Massachusetts, although the first settlers seized upon these grounds, and planted their villages upon them because the forests there were scanty and the ground free from encumbering boulders, were soon driven to betake themselves to those areas where the drift was less silicious, and where the pebbles afforded a share of clay. Very extensive fields of this sandy nature in southeastern New England have never been brought under tillage. Thus on the island of Martha's Vineyard there is a connected area containing about thirty thousand acres which lies in a very favourable position for tillage, but has been found substantially worthless for such use. The farmers have found it more advantageous to clear away the boulders from the coarser drift in order to win soil which would give them fair returns.
Those areas which are occupied by soil materials which have been brought into their position by the action of the wind may, as regards their character, be divided into two very distinct groups—the dunes and loess deposits. In the former group, where, as we have noted (see page123), the coarse sea sands or those from the shores of lakes are driven forward as a marching hillock, the grains of the material are almost always silicious. The fragments in the motion are not taken up into the air, but are blown along the surface. Such dune accumulations afford anearth which is even more sterile than that of the glacial sand plains, where there is generally a certain admixture of pebbles from rocks which by their decomposition may afford some elements of fertility. Fortunately for the interests of man, these wind-borne sands occupy but a small area; in North America, in the aggregate, there probably are not more than one thousand square miles of such deposits.
Where the rock material drifted by the winds is so fine that it may rise into the air in the form of dust, the accumulations made of it generally afford a fertile soil, and this for the reason that they are composed of various kinds of rock, and not, as in the case of dunes, of nearly pure silica. In some very rare cases, where the seashore is bordered by coral reefs, as it is in parts of southern Florida, and the strand is made up of limestone bits derived from the hard parts which the polyps secrete, small dunes are made of limy material. Owing, however, in part to the relatively heavy nature of this substance, as well as to the rapid manner in which its grains become cemented together, such limestone dunes never attain great size nor travel any distance from their point of origin.
As before noted, dust accumulations form the soil in extended areas which lie to the leeward of great deserts. Thus a considerable part of western China and much of the United States to the west of the Mississippi is covered by these wind-blown earths. Wherever the rainfall is considerable these loess deposits have proved to have a high agricultural value.
Where a region has an earth which has recently passed from beneath the sea or a great lake, the surface is commonly covered by incoherent detritus which has escaped consolidation into hard rock by the fact that it has not been buried and thus brought into the laboratory of the earth's crust. When such a region becomes dry land, the materials are immediately ready to enter into the state of soil. They commonly contain a good deal of wastederived from the organic life which dwelt upon the sea bottom and was embedded in the strata as they were formed. Where these accumulations are made in a lake, the land vegetation at once possesses the field, even a single year being sufficient for it to effect its establishment. Where the lands emerge from the sea, it requires a few years for the salt water to drain away so that the earth can be fit for the uses of plants. In a general way these sea-bottom soils resemble those formed in the alluvial plains. They are, however, commonly more sandy, and their substances less penetrated by that decay which goes on very freely in the atmosphere because of the abundant supply of oxygen, and but slowly on the sea floor. Moreover, the marine deposits are generally made up in large part of silicious sand, a material which is produced in large quantities by the disruption of the rocks along the sea coast. The largest single field of these ocean-bottom soils of North America is found in the lowland region of the southern United States, a wide belt of country extending along the coast from the Rio Grande to New York. Although the streams have channelled shallow valleys in the beds of this region, the larger part of its surface still has the peculiar features of form and composition which were impressed upon it when it lay below the surface of the sea.
Local variations in the character of the soil covering are exceedingly numerous, and these differences of condition profoundly affect the estate of man. We shall therefore consider some of the more important of these conditions, with special reference to their origin.
The most important and distinctly marked variation in the fertility of soils is that which is produced by differences in the rainfall. No parts of the earth are entirely lacking in rain, but over considerable areas the precipitation does not exceed half a foot a year. In such realms the soil is sterile, and the natural coating of vegetation limited to those plants which can subsist on dewor which can take on an occasional growth at such times as moisture may come upon them. With a slight increase in precipitation, the soil rapidly increases in productivity, so that we may say that where as much as about ten inches of water enters the earth during the summer half of the year, it becomes in a considerable measure fit for agriculture. Observations indicate that the conditions of fertility are not satisfied where the rainfall is just sufficient to fill the pores of the soil; there must be enough water entering the earth to bring about a certain amount of outflow in the form of springs. The reason of this need becomes apparent when we study the evident features of those soils which, though from season to season charged with water, do not yield springs, but send the moisture away through the atmosphere. Wherever these conditions occur we observe that the soil in dry seasons becomes coated with a deposit of mineral matter, which, because of its taste, has received the name of alkali. The origin of this coating is as follows: The pores of the soil, charged from year to year with sufficient water to fill them, become stored with a fluid which contains a very large amount of dissolved mineral matter—too much, indeed, to permit the roots of plants, save a few species which have become accustomed to the conditions, to do their appointed work. In fact, this water is much like that of the sea, which the roots of only a few of our higher plants can tolerate. When the dry season comes on, the heat of the sun evaporates the water at the surface, leaving behind a coating composed of the substances which the water contains. The soil below acts in the manner of a lamp-wick to draw up fluid as rapidly as the heat burns it away. When the soil water is as far as possible exhausted, the alkali coating may represent a considerable part of the soluble matter of the soil, and in the next rainy season it may return in whole or in part to the under-earth, again to be drawn in the manner before described to the upper level. It is therefore only when a considerableshare of the ground water goes forth to the streams in each year that the alkaline materials are in quantity kept down to the point where the roots of our crop-giving plants can make due use of the soil. Where, in an arid region, the ground can be watered from the enduring streams or from artificial reservoirs, the main advantage arising from the process is commonly found in the control which it gives the farmer in the amount of the soil water. He can add to the rainfall sufficient to take away the excess of mineral matter. When such soils are first brought under tillage it is necessary to use a large amount of water from the canals, in order to wash away the old store of alkali. After that a comparatively small contribution will often keep the soil in excellent condition for agriculture. It has been found, however, in the irrigated lands beside the Nile that where too much saving is practised in the irrigation, the alkaline coating will appear where it has been unknown before, and with it an unfitness of the earth to bear crops.
Although the crust of mineral matters formed in the manner above described is characteristic of arid countries, and in general peculiar to them, a similar deposit may under peculiar conditions be formed in regions of great rainfall. Thus on the eastern coast of New England, where the tidal marshes have here and there been diked from the sea and brought under tillage, the dissolved mineral matters of the soil, which are excessive in quantity, are drawn to the surface, forming a coating essentially like that which is so common in arid regions. The writer has observed this crust on such diked lands, having a thickness of an eighth of an inch. In fact, this alkali coating represents merely the extreme operation of a process which is going on in all soils, and which contributes much to their fertility. When rain falls and passes downward into the earth, it conveys the soluble matter to a depth below the surface, often to beyond the point where our ordinary crop plants, such as the small grains, can haveaccess to it, and this for the reason that their roots do not penetrate deeply. When dry weather comes and evaporation takes place from the surface, the fluid is drawn up to the upper soil layer, and there, in process of evaporation, deposits the dissolved materials which it contains. Thus the mineral matter which is fit for plant food is constantly set in motion, and in its movement passes the rootlets of the plants. It is probably on this account—at least in part—that very wet weather is almost as unfavourable to the farmer as exceedingly dry, the normal alternation in the conditions being, as is well known, best suited to his needs.
So long as the earth is subjected to conditions in which the rainfall may bring about a variable amount of water in the superficial detrital layer, we find normal fruitful soils, though in their more arid conditions they may be fit for but few species of plants. When, by increasing aridity, we pass to conditions where there is no tolerably permanent store of water in thedébris, the material ceases to have the qualities of a soil, and becomes mere rock waste. At the other extreme of the scale we pass to conditions where the water is steadfastly maintained in the interstices of the detritus, and there again the characteristic of the soil and its fitness for the uses of land vegetation likewise disappear. In a word, true soil conditions demand the presence of moisture, but that in insufficient quantities, to keep the pores of the earth continually filled; where they are thus filled, we have the condition of swamps. Between these extremes the level at which the water stands in the soil in average seasons is continually varying. In rainy weather it may rise quite to the surface; in a dry season it may sink far down. As this water rises and falls, it not only moves, as before noted, the soluble mineral materials, but it draws the air into and expels it from the earth with each movement. This atmospheric circulation of the soil, as has been proved by experiment, is of great importance inmaintaining its fertility; the successive charges of air supply the needs of the microscopic underground creatures which play a large part in enriching the soil, and the direct effect of the oxygen in promoting decay is likewise considerable. A part of the work which is accomplished by overturning the earth in tillage consists in this introduction of the air into the pores of the soil, where it serves to advance the actions which bring mineral matters into solution.