Part 6

In comparing the morainal material about Mt. Shasta with that of Alpine glaciers, a feature that is particularly noticeable is the smallness of the bowlders. Upon Alpine glaciers they frequently have a diameter greater than ten feet, but about the Whitney and other glaciers of Mt. Shasta they are rarely as much as three feet in diameter. This is readily explained by the fact that the glaciers of Mt. Shasta do not move in deep valleys bounded by long, deep slopes, with many high cliffs which afford an opportunity for the formation of large bowlders. Although the Whitney glacier has its boundaries more clearly defined than any of the other glaciers about Mt. Shasta by the depression in which it moves, the valley is very shallow, and one looks in vain along its slopes for traces of polished rocks like those so magnificently displayed on the way from Meiningen to Grimsel, in the valley of the Aar. Below the terminal moraine the milky water of Whitney creek wends its way down the northern slope, plunges over a fall hundreds of feet high, into a deep cañon, and near the base of the mountain is swallowed up by the thirsty air and earth. The presence of marginal crevasses, lateral and terminal moraines, and the characteristic milky stream which issues from the lower end, are proofs that the Whitney glacier still moves, but the rate of motion has not yet been determined. The row of stakes planted last July were covered with snow before the party could reach them again in the latter part of October.

Upon the northwestern slope of the mountain, besides the Whitney glacier, there is the Bulam, differing chiefly in that it is contained in a broader, less definite valley, and forming an intermediate step toward the Hottum glacier, which is one of the most important and remarkable of the group. Unlike ordinary glaciers, it has no valley in which it is confined, but lies upon the convex surface of the mountain. Its upper surface, instead of being concave anywhere, is convex throughout from side to side, and its width (123 miles) is almost as great as its length (162 miles). At several places the surface of the glacier is made very rough by the inequalities of its bed. This is especially true of its southern portion, where prominent cliffs form the only medial moraine discovered upon Mt. Shasta. Throughout the greater part of its expanse the glacier is deeply crevassed, exposing the green ice occasionally to the depth of a hundred feet. The thickness of this glacier has been greatly overestimated. In reality, instead of being 1,800 to 2,500 feet thick, it does not appear where greatest to be more than a few hundred, for at a number of places it is so thin that its bed is exposed. Its terminal moraine is a huge pile, nearly half a mile in width, measured in the direction of glacial motion.

Next south of the Hottum glacier is the Wintum, which attains a length of over two miles, and ends with an abrupt front of ice in a cañon. Upon the southeastern slope of Mt. Shasta, at the head of a large cañon, is the Konwakitong glacier. Notwithstanding its diminutive size, its crevasses and the muddy stream it initiates indicate clearly that the ice mass continues to move. The amount of moraine material upon its borders is small, and yet, of all the glaciers about Mt. Shasta, it is the only one which has left a prominent record of important changes. The country adjacent to the west side of the Konwakitong cañon has been distinctly glaciated so as to leave no doubt that the Konwakitong glacier was once very much larger than it is at the present time. The rocks on which it moved have been deeply striated, and so abraded as to produce the smooth, rounded surfaces so common in glaciated regions. At the time of its greatest extension the glacier was 5.8 miles in length and occupied an area of at least seven square miles, being over twenty times its present size. Its limit is marked at several places by a prominent terminal moraine. The thickness of the glacier where greatest was not more than 200 feet, for several hills within the glaciated area were not covered. The striated surfaces and moraines do not extend up the slopes of those hills more than 200 feet above their bases. The thinness of the glacier is completely in harmony with the limited extent of its erosion, although the rocks are distinctly planed off, so that the low knobs and edges have regularly curved outlines. It is evident that a great thickness of rock has been removed by the ice, and that the period of ice erosion has been comparatively brief. During the lapse of time, however, there have been important climatic oscillations, embracing epochs of glacial advance and recession. None of the glaciers about Mt. Shasta, excepting the Wintum, terminate in cañons, but all of them give rise to muddy streams which flow in cañons to the mountain’s base. The cañons are purely the product of aqueous erosion, and contain numerous waterfalls, whence the streams in descending leap over the ends of old lava flows 50 to 300 feet in height.

In strong contrast with the arctic condition of Mt. Shasta to-day, are the circumstances attending its upbuilding, when it was an active volcano belching forth streams of fiery lava that flowed down the slopes now occupied by ice. It is the battlefield of the elements within the earth against those above it. In its early days the forces beneath were victorious, and built up the mountains in the face of wind and weather, but gradually the volcanic energy died away and the low temperature called into play those destructive agents which are now reversing the process and gradually reducing the mountain toward a general level. A microscopical examination of the rocks of Mt. Shasta reveals the fact that it is composed chiefly, if not wholly, of three kinds of lava. Several small areas of metamorphic rocks occur within its borders, but there is no evidence to show that they form any considerable portion of the mountain.

The range in mineralogical composition of the lavas is not extensive. There are only four minerals which deserved to be ranked as essential and characteristic constituents: they are plagioclase, feldspar, pyroxene, generally in the form of hypersthene hornblende, and olivine. The kind of lava which has by far the widest distribution upon the slopes of Mt. Shasta is composed essentially of plagioclase, feldspar and hypersthene, with some angite, and belongs to the variety of volcanic rocks which, on account of composition, and the place where first discovered, has been designated hypersthene andesite. Lava of this type has been shown by Messrs. Cross and Giddings of the Geological Survey to be widely distributed beyond the Mississippi. Upon the western slope of the mountain, especially in the vicinity of the prominent volcanic cone, the form of which suggests its name sugar loaf, the lava contains prominent crystals of hornblende instead of so much hypersthene and angite, and closely resembles the celebrated hornblende andesite lava from among the extinct volcanoes of central France. The third variety of lava which enters into the structure of Mt. Shasta is familiar to every one as basalt. It occurs in relatively small quantities, and has been extruded low down upon the slopes of the mountain. From the fact that there are three kinds of lava in the structure of Mt. Shasta, it must not be concluded that they all issued from the same volcanic vent, nor that they were effused from three separate and distinct openings. In reality, contributions to the upbuilding of Mt. Shasta have been made by over twenty volcanic orifices, of which two have been principal and far more prolific than all the parasitic events combined. This enumeration does not include those large fissures in the side of the cone, which are evidently attributable to the hydrostatic pressure of the molten mass within. The small number of parasitic cones on the slopes of Mt. Shasta is somewhat remarkable, especially when we compare it with the largest volcano in Europe. Although it is much higher than Etna, its base is less expansive, and its size about half that of the mighty monarch of the Mediterranean. Upon the irregular slopes of Etna there are 200 prominent subsidiary cones, beside over 400 of smaller size. On the contrary, Mt. Shasta has but a score of such accessories, and the remarkable regularity of its acute form forcibly expresses the highly concentrated type of volcanic energy which it represents.

From none of the vents upon its slopes have all three kinds of lava escaped, but from the summits of Shasta and Shastina, which are the products of the two largest and most prolific vents, both hornblende and hypersthene andesite have been effused. All the other orifices were subordinate, and each furnished but one kind of lava; from seven of them came hypersthene andesite; eight, hornblende andesite; and the remaining five, basalt. The relative age of the cones which mark the position of the volcanic vents is indicated by the amount of degradation which each has suffered. Judged by this criterion, those of hornblende andesite are the oldest and those of basalt the youngest. The latter are for the most part made of lapilli, and are not crater-shaped as is usually the case in other portions of the Cascade Range, but are elliptical in form, with dome-shaped summits. The presence of considerable piles of ejectments about the subsidiary vents indicates that the eruptions from these orifices were often of a violent character. On the other hand there are some without a trace of lapilli, or anything else to indicate an interruption in the quiet flow of lava welling out of the depths.

Upon the eastern slope of the mountain the cañon, excavated by Mud creek, brings to light the oldest Shasta lavas now exposed, and they are seen under such circumstances that their succession can be readily understood. The oldest lava known is hornblende andesite, which is now in an advanced state of disintegration, and it seems probable that in the early stages of its development a large proportion of the lavas ejected from Mt. Shasta were of the same mineralogical constitution. These were succeeded by extensive effusions of hypersthene andesite. Later in its history, several small streams of hornblende andesite again burst forth from the northeastern side of the cone, but the final effort of the volcanic energy was spent in the ejection of hypersthene andesite. The conditions which determine the oscillation in mineralogical composition of the lavas are as yet conjectural, but when discovered, and their influence demonstrated, an important step forward will have been made in determining the relations of many volcanic rocks.

A striking feature in the structure of Mt. Shasta is the paucity of volcanic ashes, lapilli, and other ejected matter. Only one important deposit of the kind has been discovered. It clings about the summit of the mountain, and is evidently the product of its last eruption. The summit of Shastina is so regular in outline, and the shape of its crater so well preserved, that many have supposed it to be composed chiefly of scoria and ashes; but this is not the case, for its slopes are of angular fragments of compact lava.

Mt. Shasta is almost a pure lava cone, and its remarkably regular form is a matter of wonder. That it is so regular is a sequence of several favorable circumstances. Although a score of parasitic cones spring from the side of the mountain, and have contributed to its upbuilding, yet their additions have been so small compared with the vast effusions from the summit craters Shasta and Shastina, as not to greatly modify the outline of the mountain. More important circumstances are to be found in the non-explosive character of the eruptions and the successive changes in the physical properties of the erupted lava, as the development of the mountain progressed.

It is well known that among the volcanoes of the Hawaiian Islands the eruptions are quiet and effusive. The fiery streams of liquid lava course down the gentle slopes for many miles.

Although the mountain is 14,000 feet high, its lavas have such a high degree of liquidity, and retain their mobility so long after eruption, that the base of the mountain spread by them has a diameter of about seventy miles, and an average slope of 5° 1,800 feet below its summit. Mauna Loa is nearly twenty miles in diameter. On the contrary, at a corresponding position its greatest diameter is less than two miles, a very remarkable difference, which is due chiefly to the unequal fluency of the two lavas. The very oldest lavas of Mt. Shasta lie buried within its mass, and we know nothing of their physical properties, but from an examination of the oldest ones now visible, it is evident that at the time of their eruption they possessed a higher degree of fluidity, and were more voluminous than those of later date. The long, gentle slopes about the base of the mountain are formed by comparatively old lavas. Ascending the mountain, one goes up as if upon a giant staircase, with long, inclined steps rising abruptly over the ends of successive shorter and newer lava flows.

It is evident in comparing the older and newer lava flows of Mt. Shasta that there has been a more or less regular decrease in the quantity of lava extruded during successive eruptions, and this is exactly what we should expect when we consider that as the pipe is lengthened by successive effusions, the hydrostatic pressure of the columns of lava within is gradually augmented. The increased compress of the lava flows toward the summit of the mountain indicates that the lava of successive extrusions became more and more viscous until at last the eruptions became explosive, and gave rise to the ejectments now clinging upon the upper slopes of the mountain to evidence the character of the final outburst.

It is not only possible, but very probable that the increased viscosity of lava toward the closing scenes of the volcano is correllated to the diminution of temperature. Since the beginning of the historic period there have been no eruptions from Mt. Shasta, but the freshness of its lavas indicate that not many centuries ago, with other volcanoes of the Cascade Range, it was in a state of vigorous activity, and groups of hot springs and fumeroles about the summit still attest the presence of smouldering volcanic energy, which may perhaps some day break through its confining walls.

The upbuilding of Mt. Shasta is but a matter of yesterday, as compared with the lapse of ages, since the birth of some of its neighbors. The complex group of mountains to the westward, embracing the Scott, Trinity, Salmon and Siskiyou, are composed in large part, at least, of ancient crystalline rocks of both aqueous and igneous origin; through these the rivers have cut deep cañons, the Klamath, on its way to the Sacramento southward, from the very base of Mt. Shasta to its broad valley stretching from the Sierra Nevada to the Coast Range. The cañon of the Sacramento was cut down to nearly its present level, and the mountains sculptured into existing forms long before the eruptions of Mt. Shasta had ceased, for a fiery deluge escaping from the southern slope of Mt. Shasta entered the Sacramento cañon, and as a lava stream 200 feet deep followed its course for over fifty miles.

Towering more than a mile above its neighbors, perhaps the youngest of the group, Mt. Shasta is the end of a long series of volcanoes in the Cascade Range, stretching northwest to Mt. Tacoma. This range, composed chiefly of volcanic material, is cut across by the cañons of the Columbia and the Klamath rivers, in the former of which, beneath a thickness of 3,500 feet of lava, are found strata containing Tertiary fossils. At the southern base of Mt. Shasta, in the cañon of the McLoud River, similar beds of volcanic debris are found, but without fossils, nevertheless it is evident that the main mass of the Cascade Range and its volcanoes originated in recent geologic times, and from the fact that solfataras, fumeroles, and hot springs are still abundant upon their slopes, they can not be reckoned among those which are wholly extinct.

A frontiersman in Washington Territory tells of an outburst of Mt. St. Helens in the winter of 1841-2.

Upon somewhat more trustworthy authority it is said that to the southward of Mt. Shasta, about forty miles, a small cone which may be considered parasitic to Lassens Peak, has been in eruption as late as January, 1850, ejecting considerable ashes and cinders, and pouring forth a mass of lava, which gradually spread, attaining a circumference of over four miles, and presenting an abrupt embankment-like termination upon all sides eighty to ninety feet in height. Trees, blackened by the fiery stream, are still standing to furnish incontestable evidence of its recency.

The country is full of rumors of subterranean rumblings, and the people are prone to attribute them to the dying throes of volcanic energy.

One of the most striking features of the region is the strongly contrasted types of volcanic action in Mt. Shasta. Both have approximately the same area. In the valley there have been many scores of volcanic vents, among which the energy has been so widely diffused that none of them have furnished lava sufficient to form a hill more than a few hundred feet in height.

On the contrary, the mountain represents a small number of vents, and the volcanic was nearly all concentrated in one place, so that the extrusions were all piled up, one upon another, and resulted in the upbuilding of one majestic elevation.

Thus it has been from a small beginning, probably in early Tertiary times, that by successive boilings over, so to speak, additions have been made to the mountain until it attained a height beyond its present altitude. The constructive agents reached their limit, dissipated their energy, and gave way to destructive ones, which are gradually undoing the work.

Mt. Shasta must ever be one of the most popular mountains among tourists of the West. It is easily accessible from a main line of travel which passes by its base, at Berryvale, where comfortable quarters and necessary outfit for the ascent can be obtained.

The streams are filled with trout, and the forest with game, so that the region affords many attractions for the sportsman.

Several hours’ travel by a good trail brings the party to Camp Ross, at the timber line, from which the ascent can easily be made in a day without danger.

REASSUREMENT.

BY ADA IDDINGS GALE.

Fear not, heart—though round thee ply Battle’s emblems—far and nigh. Though thy comrades round thee fall— Ensigns totter on the wall— Though the long battalions grim Seem to cloud thy future’s rim. If amidst the wild affray Thou grow sick, and turn away— Pause: that would be worst of all, If in fleeing, thou should’st fall. Stand fast, girt with sword and shield— If thou fall, fall in the field. What matters it if sad defeat Meet thy eager, hurrying feet; What, if when the banners wave Thou should’st find a shallow grave.

Foeward, bravely turn thy face, Seek no measure small of grace; And when loud the trumpets call, Bravely stand or bravely fall. Whether vict’ry or defeat, Laurel wreath or winding sheet Be thy meed—’twill differ not, Soon or late ’twill be forgot. Only thou, heart, e’er shalt know Thy deserved praise here below. Thou, and One that on his throne Ne’er forgets to watch his own, One that marks where sparrows flee, Thee will guard with equity. Then be brave with all thy might— This thy guerdon—for the right.

WILL IT PAY?

BY CHARLES BARNARD.

There are some people who always ask this question. You may suggest anything, a book to read, a science to be studied, or some new work to be done, and, though they may not be so rude as to say so, they will wonder how it will pay. “Better not go into farming, my boy. It doesn’t pay.” “Better not do this or do that. It won’t pay you.” After a little more of this sort of thing you wonder if it pays to be born, or to live, or to do anything whatever. Now, what do they mean by this question? By far the larger part of those who ask it mean that the work, whatever it may be, does not pay a handsome return in money. A few mean something quite different. They know all about it, they have seen the world, and it is all a hollow show, and their favorite dolls are full of sawdust. These people are dead, but they have forgotten it.

Let us see about this. If there is any one business in the world about which the people in it are sure it does not pay, it is farming. “It does not pay.” So many people have said this that people who are not farmers have really come to think it must be so. Is it true? Here is an ear of field corn with twelve rows of grains, and twenty grains to a row. Fair average corn, with 240 grains to the ear. We can take off one grain and plant it in the ground, and within six months have two ears of the same corn, or 480 grains from one grain. How big a profit is that? One grain increases to 480 grains. Is there any manufacturing business, art or profession that pays such an enormous return? In spite of this they say it does not pay. Then there must be something the matter with the business. Nature has provided that the increase of plants shall be very great. One seed may increase a hundred fold, or five hundred fold, or a thousand fold. Clearly the work of raising plants with such advantages in its favor ought to pay, and if it does not, it is equally clear that something is wrong, some one to blame.

The city housekeeper finds at her store on the avenue a head of lettuce. Rather wilted and damaged by rough handling. Six cents. You can plant 43,560 heads of lettuce on one acre of ground. At six cents a head that is $2,613.60 taken out of one acre of land inside of eight weeks. And yet this person gravely tells us lettuce raising does not pay. What can the matter be, and where has all this money gone? A city like New York will calmly eat 40,000 heads of lettuce in a day or two, and pay out over $2,000 for it, and be ready to eat and pay as much more the next week. The money is certainly paid to somebody, and if the farmer still insists it does not pay to raise the lettuce, there must be a reason for it.

Ask the groceryman. He replies that he must live and must have a good slice out of the money to pay him for buying the lettuce down town and bringing it up to his store. It isn’t so evident that he must live as he fancies, because there was a time when there were no storekeepers and the world got along beautifully without them. However, he is convenient, and we will allow him his slice out of the profits. The teamster, the wholesale dealer, the freight handler, the railroad people all say that they too must live, and to please them we will admit that is so, though there is not much to prove it. They must share in the $2,000 paid for the acre of lettuce. Lastly, the farmer gets what the others decide he may have after they have had what they decide is their share. If we ask each one of this row of men, it is quite possible each one will say it does not pay, but, somehow, none except the farmer says anything about it. The last man, the actual producer of the lettuce, is the only one to complain. His business is the only one concerned that people say does not pay.