CHAPTER IV.
THE MOUNTAINS.
"Blue, and baseless, and beautiful, Did the boundless mountains bear Their folded shadows into the golden air. The comfortlessness of their chasms was full Of orient cloud and undulating mist, Which, when their silver cataracts hissed, Quivered with panting colour." RUSKIN.
From the Polar deserts to the icy crests of the mountains the transition is natural. There are here, so to speak, two varieties of a single class of deserts, which we might call the Deserts of Cold, since the coldness of the climate is the dominant cause which in both renders the soil more and more unproductive and uninhabitable. In effect, it is not only in departing from the Tropic Zone that we see the mean temperature gradually sinking even to the point whereat all liquids congeal and all terrestrial life becomes impossible. The same phenomenon occurs in proportion as we ascend in the atmosphere. It is a consequence of the properties of the gaseous medium which envelops our globe, and takes place in obedience to certain laws which science has been able to ascertain and define. We know now that the decline of the temperature is always in proportion to the elevation of places or of the atmospheric strata; but the value of the relation which exists between the two terms may be modified by various circumstances--such as the direction of the prevailing wind, the hygrometrical state of the atmosphere, the hour of the day, and particularly the climate, or, to speak more exactly, the thermic latitude. The warmer the climate, the more sensible the difference between the temperature of the air at the level of the sea and that which we observe at a certain height; greater, nevertheless, is the height to which we must rise to find the region where the thermometer never descends below 0°, and where, consequently, the snows and ices of the mountains do not melt in any season.
As a mean, we estimate every 580 feet of elevation in the Torrid Zone as equal to one thermometrical degree, and in the Temperate Zone at one degree for every 450 feet, the cooling of the air. That is, for every 580 feet in the one instance, and every 450 feet in the other, as we ascend above the sea's level, the temperature decreases one degree. In the Polar regions the decrease of temperature is insensible up to a certain height, which has not yet been ascertained. At Ingloolich, in 69° 21' north latitude, Captain Parry flew a kite to a height of 400 feet, with an _à minima_ thermometer attached. At this elevation the temperature of the air was 31° below zero, or the same as on the ice-fields of the sea. Humboldt counted one degree of declination for every 550 feet on Chimborazo. De Saussure obtained one degree for every 440 feet on Mont Blanc.
The limit of eternal snows, or perpetual snow-line, which at the Pole sinks to the very level of ocean, rises higher and higher as it approaches the lower latitudes, and attains its maximum elevation towards the Equinoctial Line. It follows, that in the countries bordering on the Arctic Circle, mountains of very moderate altitude show themselves all through the year in a shroud of radiant snow; while, under the Tropics, if we would meet with masses of eternal ice, we must mount to a height of 13,500 feet and more. The limit of the permanent snows is, however, affected by a variety of local circumstances, such as the neighbourhood of great seas or forests. The subjoined table, therefore, which shows the height of the curve of congelation in different latitudes, is founded upon the known law of the decrease of heat by elevation, and must be regarded rather as approximatively correct than strictly accurate.
TABLE OF SNOW-LINE. ------------------------------------- | | | | | | MEAN | HEIGHT | |LATITUDE. | TEMPERATURE | OF THE | | | AT THE LEVEL | SNOW- | | | OF THE SEA. | LINE. | | | | | ------------------------------------- | | Degrees | | | Centrigrade. | | | | Degrees | | | | Fahrenheit. | | | | | Feet. | | | | | | | 0 | 29·00 | 84·2 | 15,207 | | 1 | 28·99 | 84·2 | 15,203 | | 2 | 28·96 | 84·1 | 15,189 | | 4 | 28·86 | 83·9 | 15,135 | | 5 | 28·78 | 83·8 | 15,095 | | 6 | 28·68 | 83·6 | 15,047 | | 7 | 28·57 | 83·4 | 14,989 | | 8 | 28·44 | 83·2 | 14,923 | | 9 | 28·29 | 82·9 | 14,848 | | 10 | 28·13 | 82·6 | 14,764 | | 15 | 27·06 | 80·7 | 14,220 | | 20 | 25·61 | 78·1 | 13,478 | | 25 | 23·82 | 74·9 | 12,557 | | 30 | 21·75 | 71·1 | 11.484 | | 35 | 19·46 | 67·0 | 10,287 | | 40 | 17·02 | 62·6 | 9,001 | | 45 | 14·50 | 58·1 | 7,671 | | 50 | 11·98 | 53·6 | 6,334 | | 51½[195] | 11·24 | 52·3 | 5,950 | | 54 | 10·02 | 50·0 | 5,290 | | 55 | 9·54 | 49·2 | 5,034 | | 56 | 9·07 | 48·3 | 4,782 | | 57 | 8·60 | 47·5 | 4,534 | | 58 | 8·14 | 46·6 | 4,291 | | 60 | 7·25 | 45·0 | 3,818 | | 65 | 5·18 | 41·3 | 2,722 | | 70 | 3·39 | 38·1 | 1,778 | | 75 | 1·94 | 35·5 | 1,016 | | 80 | ·87 | 33·6 | 457 | | 85 | ·22 | 32·4 | 117 | | 86 | ·14 | 32·3 | 76 | | 87 | ·08 | 32·2 | 44 | | 88 | ·04 | 32·1 | 20 | | 89 | ·01 | 32·0 | 5 | | 90 | ·00 | 32·0 | 0 | | | | | | -------------------------------------
That the foregoing table needs considerable modification in particular localities is evident from the following facts:--In the Scandinavian Alps, lat. 65° north, the snow-line occurs at an elevation of 5200 feet, instead of 2722; in the Alps of Savoy, lat. 45° north, it is found at 7650 feet, which is nearly that of the table. On the southern slope of the Himalayas the traveller ascends to an elevation of upwards of 15,000 feet before he enters the realms of snow and ice, and on the northern slope to 12,750 feet. Finally, in the Andes of Bolivia, according to Pentland, the curve of congelation lies between 14,400 and 14,800 feet.
Thus, then, in the mid Torrid Zone, we must accomplish a weary ascent of 13,000 to 15,000 feet before we can find ourselves transported from the calcined plains whose sands scorch and blister our feet, or the dense forests whose innermost depths teem with the most exuberant and beautiful floral life, to the heart of icy deserts and the sublime silence of the mountains. And in passing from one to the other of these extremes, we traverse in a few hours all the climates which succeed one another from the Equator to the Pole. Nevertheless, I must point out an important difference between the Polar deserts and the snowy regions of the mountains, which is wholly to the advantage of the former.
I have already shown that, under the highest latitudes, men find, in the exceptional activity of their functions of nutrition, and, above all, of respiration, a powerful re-agent against the intensity of the external cold. This resource fails him on the mountain summit. In vain will he attempt, as a succedaneum against the cold, to modify his ordinary regimen, to drink warm blood, to eat fat and raw flesh; his stomach will reject such aliment, or digest it only with difficulty, and he will not suffer less from the extreme rigour of the temperature. At the Pole air pours freely into our lungs, and its pressure stoutly maintains the equilibrium of the fluids of our body. Such is not the case when we soar, Icarus like, into the higher regions of the atmosphere; in proportion as we ascend, the air rarefies, and its pressure diminishes. Consequently, respiration becomes difficult and painful; the quantity of oxygen designed to cherish animal heat by the combustion of the carbon and hydrogen of the blood becomes insufficient; at the same time, the tissues and the liquids which they enclose expand; perspiration, instead of diminishing, experiences a relative augmentation; if the atmospheric pressure is much too weak, the blood extravasates, and forces itself out through the nose, the ears, and the pores of the skin. In a word, that peculiar malady which has been named the _mal des montagnes_, and which is not always unattended with danger, attacks the hardiest traveller, and compels him with all speed to return to lower and securer levels.
When, therefore, we speak of "the pure and living air" of the mountains, of the vigour and health of their inhabitants--even as the poet says--
"An iron race the mountain-cliffs maintain"--
we are really to understand those lofty hills which are decorated in some places with the name of mountains, or the table-lands that form the first steps of the great chains. Such, indeed, are the only inhabited and inhabitable mountains. There only is the cultivation of a few plants still possible; there only can the wild beasts find an asylum in wood or forest, and the cattle green fields of pasture; there may man plant his feet, build his dwellings, devote himself to rearing his herds, to the chase, or to more sedentary industries. Let us remember, moreover, that the salubrity of the air of elevated districts has been greatly exaggerated, and that if we meet with many mountaineers agile, robust, and intelligent, we also meet with a great number affected by organic diseases either wholly unknown or very rare in the plains, such as goître, scrofula, and cretinism.
The structure of the mountains, their form, and the nature of their soil, suffice, even without these meteorological conditions I have just indicated, to render them impracticable as the dwelling-place of man and of most animals. To ascend them is almost always an enterprise of the most hazardous, frequently of the most perilous character. To climb the lofty peaks of the Himalaya, to scale the majestic brow of Chimborazo, to ascend the frozen sides of the Jungfrau or Mont Blanc, is an achievement of which the boldest boast, as if they had won a Waterloo or an Inkermann! Only a keen longing after that notoriety which for some minds fills the place of renown, or a passion for dangerous enterprise such as stimulates the pioneer or the explorer, or a powerful scientific and artistic interest, can impel the Alpine adventurer--can instigate a Saussure, a Forbes, a Pentland, or a Tyndall, to mount the scarped ramparts of primeval rocks, to tread warily along precipices which the chamois can scarcely traverse, to escalade the savage cliffs and frozen pinnacles, and to breathe
"The difficult air of the iced mountain-tops."
The annals of mountaineering are illuminated with many stirring stories of human endurance, patience, and heroism; but, alas! the page is too often robed in black, and too frequently records the death of some unhappy explorer!
It is no part of my plan to trace the geological history of mountains. We know that their formation has been attributed, according to a satisfactory theory, to the upheavals and expansions of the igneous matter which, in the primitive ages, boiled under the solid crust produced by the superficial solidification of our planet, and whose ebullition, though considerably decreased, even in our own days is frequently made known in volcanic phenomena and earthquakes. At divers epochs the crust of the globe will have been rent and dislocated, giving vent to floods of fused mineral matter; these, solidifying in their turn, will have produced those inequalities of the earth's surface which we call mountains; enormous inequalities, as they appear to us; mole-hills or grains of sand if we compare them with the volume of the terrestrial sphere.
The distribution of the mountains over the surface of the continents and islands, and the forms which they have assumed, seem, at the first glance, altogether capricious and irregular. Yet an attentive study speedily demonstrates that some higher law than that of chance presided at the violent and tumultuous production of these majestic masses. Thus, in the first place, it is evident that every mountain not a volcano connects itself of necessity to other mountains, and forms a _chain_ of greater or less length, which departs a little from the straight line, or rather from the arc of the great circle. The principal chains throw out branches, and by _mountain knots_, as they are called, unite with other secondary chains--the whole composing a _mountain system_; but the apparent irregularities of these systems may always be referred to one common direction.
If from the disposition of mountains we pass to their distribution, we perceive that all chains which have sprung from the same geological convulsion are always distinctly parallel, and the successive chains distinctly perpendicular among themselves; so that the age of a chain is known by its direction. Nor is there anything to astonish us in this species of symmetry, when we recollect that every substance previously liquefied or diluted by heat, and which, while cooling, becomes contracted by the closer compression of its atoms, splits with a certain degree of regularity, generally following lines which intersect each other at right angles. And it is through the crevices of the cooled terrestrial crust that these fused matters have escaped, according to the hypothesis generally admitted by geologists, which, by solidifying in their turn, have created the mountains. I can only indicate these considerations to the reader; their development would beguile us too far from our prescribed path.
If we direct our attention now to the configuration of mountains, we shall see that this configuration depends essentially on the nature of the rocks which constitute them. Granite, for example, is one of those which offers the most varied outlines, as the reader may see without quitting the United Kingdom, in the rugged, fantastic, broken masses of the Argyllshire Highlands, that hem in the waters of Loch Goil and Loch Long. Granite abounds in the tropical zone, and seems to prefer chains of moderate elevation. Granite heights are generally distinguished by abrupt and polished flanks, pointed or dentelated summits, scarped approaches, deeply fissured slopes, and narrow, wild, and profound valleys.
Gneiss, a felspathic and micaceous rock, of schistous structure, is found in layers sometimes horizontal or gently inclined, sometimes undulating and complicated towards the border. The contours of the gneiss mountains are less cloven than those of mountains of granite; but numerous fissures and indentations are still discoverable.
Porphyry generally occurs in isolated peaks, with almost vertical flanks; seldom in continuous chains. Porphyritic mountains, says M. Maury, imprint on the landscape a peculiarly picturesque character. This rock sometimes appears under the form of tall pillars set in close juxtaposition--it is then known as _columnar porphyry_; and to groups of these columns have been given in some countries the name of _Orgues_ or _Organs_, on account of their resemblance to the organ pipes which discourse solemn music in our cathedrals.
Thus: in Mexico two mountains occur distinguished by this appellation, _Los Organos_; one is that of Mamanchota, situated to the north of the Indian village of Actapan. The portion soaring out of the rock, says Humboldt, is three hundred feet in height; but the absolute elevation of the summit of the mountain, at the point where the Organos begin to shoot aloft, is 1385 toises (about 5310 feet). The other is the Jacal, which is nearly 9600 feet above the sea-level, and crowned with forests of pine and cedar.
But the most celebrated Organ Mountains are those which rear their glittering shafts at the extremity of the bay of Rio Janiero. "It is not only the aspect of these pointed summits," says Dr. Yvan, "that reminds the spectator of the sublime instrument of our churches; the strange sounds which escape from between these cylinders of rock render the analogy still more striking, and complete the illusion. The voice of the tempest, the lamentations of the forests bowed by the passing winds, the doleful wails of the jaguars, the cries of the howling monkeys passing between these sonorous peaks, produce a harmony before which all human instrumentation loses its grandeur. We feel that it is the universal soul which inspires the chords of the majestic keys. The _Serra dos Organos_ is clothed in virgin forest over three-fourths of its extent; it is only at long intervals, and in obscure valleys, that we encounter any traces of human industry, or that we traverse some circular treeless hollows, in which an abundant herbage flourishes, and feeds the troops of horses and oxen enclosed in these natural parks."
The _Organ Mountains_ of Epailly (in the department of the Haute Loire, in France) and of Bart (in the Corrèze), and the _Colonnades_ of Chenavari (in the Ardèche), belong to the basaltic formation, rendered so remarkable by its frequent arrangement in prismatic columns of extreme regularity. Basalt also gives birth to chains which resemble vast walls, and sometimes appears in the form of pyramids, plateaux, or simple mamelons.
Of the columnar arrangement the Palisades, on the banks of the river Hudson, may be particularized as a noble example; but a still grander spectacle is presented on the river Columbia, west of the Rocky Mountains, where the waters pour through a valley walled on either side with tier upon tier of pillars, to the height of fully a thousand feet.
The Trachytes, massive rocks of excessive roughness, occasionally appear in the shape of cones, at times in that of domes or enormous balloons, and at times as cupolas with spire-like points, like minarets. The chalks, the sandstones, the diorites, have all their characteristic aspect, and give to the mountains where they dominate, and to the landscapes which surround them, an easily recognizable physiognomy. And, finally, everybody knows the particular configuration affected by the volcanic mountains.
The great mountain-chains are unequally distributed in different parts of the world, and their disposition varies in a remarkable manner in the two great continents. For the most part it agrees with the direction of the principal land masses in each. Thus, in the Old World, the chief ranges assume an easterly and westerly course, following the parallels of latitude; in the New, a northerly and southerly direction, like that of the meridians of longitude.
In Europe, the mountains are numerous, but generally of very moderate elevation. In the north, we find the _Scandinavian Alps_, covering nearly the whole of Norway and some part of Sweden. From the Naze, or Cape Lindesnaes, they roll far away, like foam-crested billows, to the very shore of the Frozen Sea. The central and highest part of the mass, between latitude 62° and 63°, is called the Dover-feld; the more northerly portion, the Koelin Mountains; the more southerly, Lang-feld and Hardanger-feld. Their summits are comparatively flat--felds, or fields, as the name indicates; on the eastern side they slope gradually to the plains bordering the Gulf of Bothnia, their sides clothed with dense forests of pine and fir; on the west they rise abruptly from the margin of the ocean, and their steep, barren, and swarthy flanks are broken up by numerous inlets, or _fiords_, where the waters lie cradled in gloom and desolation. Their highest point is now known to be Skags-tol-tind, in the Lang-feld range, upwards of 8000 feet. All the loftier summits rise above the snow-line, and wear night and day, winter and summer, a shroud of frost and snow. The glaciers are often of great magnificence, and equal, if they do not transcend in sublimity, those of the Alps of Switzerland and Savoy.
The _Mountains of Scotland_ seldom exceed 3500 feet in height; the principal summits, however, Ben Mac-Dhui, and Ben Nevis, are respectively, 4390 and 4368 feet. Ben Lawers, on the west side of Loch Tay, reaches 3984 feet; Ben More, in the south-west of Perthshire, 3818 feet; and Schehallion, 3514 feet. Ben Lomond, east of the famous lake of that name, has an altitude of 3191 feet. The characteristics of the Scotch mountains are their barren sides, only relieved by patches of purple heather; their originally fantastic and broken outlines; their deep, narrow, savage glens, which are often of the gloomiest and most desolate aspect; and their still deep tarns, or lakes, mirroring each lofty height in their clear and glassy surface.
The most important of the European systems is that of the _Alps_, whose majestic and glorious landscapes have been for ages the admiration of the poet and the artist. They begin, on the west, near the head of the Gulf of Savoy; sweep round the upper portion of Italy, as if to shut out that historic peninsula from the European mainland; bend to the south-east to approach the Adriatic; and throw out a spur, or prolongation, along the eastern shore of that sea, and parallel with it. That portion of the system which borders the Mediterranean is distinguished as the Maritime Alps; between Italy on the one side, and France and Savoy on the other, lie the Cottian and Graian Alps; from Mont Blanc to Monte Rosa stretch the Pennine Alps; further to the eastward extend the Lepontine, Rhetian, and Noric Alps; and south-easterly, the Carnic, the Julian, and the Dinaric Alps. The Bernese Alps form the northern barrier of the Valley of the Rhone; their direction is parallel to that of the Pennine.[196]
The principal Alpine summits are:--Mont Blanc, the "monarch of mountains," 15,750 feet; Monte Rosa, 15,150 feet; Finster-Aarhorn, 14,109; the Jungfrau, 13,716; and the Ortler Spits, 12,852 feet. The scenery of the Alps is always of the grandest character; its more remarkable features being its huge glaciers, or ice-rivers, with their brilliant and ever-changing hues.
"Motionless torrents! silent cataracts! Who made you glorious as the gates of heaven Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flowers Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet."[197]
It is supposed that there are at least four hundred of the great glaciers, varying from three to thirty miles in length, from a hundred to six or seven hundred feet in thickness, and from a few yards to a couple of miles in breadth. The total superficial area of the glaciers in Switzerland, Savoy, Piedmont, and the Tyrol, has been estimated at 1400 square miles.
The _Apennines_ must be considered a subsidiary portion of the Alps, rather than as an independent system. They branch off from the Maritime Alps, and traverse the entire length of Italy. Several peaks rise to an elevation of between 7000 and 8000 feet; but the average height scarcely exceeds 3000 feet. Monte Coma, the culminating point, is 9523 feet.
The south of Italy is occupied by a remarkable volcanic region, where the subterranean fires still give awful signs of their intense activity. _Mount Vesuvius_, which raises its conical mass, girdled with vines and chestnuts, above the fair city of Naples, is 3978 feet above the sea-level. Its sister volcano, _Mount Etna_, in the island of Sicily, attains a far loftier elevation (10,872 feet),[198] and exhibits a charming variety of picturesque scenery. The forest region on the lower slopes is rich in glowing effects of colour, while near the summit the landscapes wear a grander aspect. Mr. Matthew Arnold has painted an Etnean picture with marvellous force in the following beautiful passage.[199]
"'Tis the last Of all the woody, high, well watered dells On Etna; and the beam Of noon is broken there by chestnut boughs Down its steep verdant sides; the air Is freshened by the leaping stream, which throws Eternal showers of spray on the mossed roots Of trees, and vines of turf, and long dark shoots Of ivy-plants, and fragrant hanging bells Of hyacinths, and on late anemones, That muffle its wet banks; but glade, And stream, and sward, and chestnut trees, End here; Etna beyond, in the broad glare Of the hot noon, without a shade, Slope behind slope, up to the peak, lies bare; The peak, round which the white clouds play."
* * * * *
Between France and Spain lies the great system of the _Pyrenees_, whose topmost peaks exceed 11,000 feet in altitude. Their entire breadth averages between forty and fifty miles; the southern slope is exceedingly rugged and abrupt, and the passes or defiles exhibit a character of exceeding savageness. The two loftiest crests are Mount Maladetta, 11,426 feet, and Mont Perdu, 11,275 feet. The interior of Spain consists of an elevated table-land, bordered by the wild mountain-ranges of the _Sierra Nevada_ and the _Sierra Morena_. The average height of the snowy chain of the Nevada is 6000 feet, but the Peak of Mulharen soars to the noble elevation of 11,678 feet.
In France, we meet with the chains of the _Cevennes_ and the _Vosges_, the former extending along the right bank of the Rhone, with an average altitude of 3000 feet; the latter stretching from north to south along the right bank of the Rhine. The vine-clad slopes of the latter offer many a romantic picture to the wayfarer in Rhineland. Very curious in geological interest are the extinct volcanic mountains of Auvergne; so black, charred, scathed, and desolate, that one might suppose them to have been the scene of some old-world battle between the Titans and the Olympian gods. Here the Puy de Sancy exceeds 6000 feet (6215), and the now silent cone of the Puy de Dôme, 4500 feet in height.
The _Hungarian Mountains_, or Mountains of Germany, occupy the country between the Rhine and the eighteenth meridian of east longitude. Here we meet with the dark and densely wooded crests of the Schwarz Wald, or Black Forest; the Erz-Gebirge, on the borders of Saxony and Bohemia; and the rich metalliferous masses of the legend-haunted Harz. Continuing our survey to the eastward, our glances rest on the bold and many-peaked groups of the _Carpathians_, which, commencing near the sources of the Oder and the Vistula, describe a semicircle round the fertile Hungarian plain for between seven and eight hundred miles. Striking down to the Danube, it faces on the opposite side the lofty wall of the Balkan, and through the gorge thus formed, the famous "Iron Gates" of ancient story, the river rolls its waters with impetuous rapidity. The more elevated summits of the Carpathians possess an average height of 5000 feet, but Mount Lomnitz reaches the loftier level of 7962 feet.
On the borders of Asia lies the long and narrow chain, or rather chains, of the _Ural Mountains_, with an average altitude of from 2000 to 2500 feet, sinking in about latitude 57° to a rocky ridge of little more than 1100 feet. The loftiest crest is Mount Yaman, in latitude 54° 13', 5387 feet. The Ural Mountains possess abundant mineral treasures, both gold and platinum occurring in extensive abundance.
The chain of _Mount Caucasus_ stretches for about 700 miles between the Black and Caspian Seas, in the direction of north-west and south-east. It exceeds 150 miles in breadth, throwing out from the central mass numerous branches and parallel ridges, and enclosing a network of valleys, plains, and ravines. The culminating point appears to be the group or mountain-knot of Elburz, in the meridian of 42° 25' E., which attains the stupendous elevation of 18,493 feet. Kasbek, which is really in Asia, reaches 16,500 feet.
In the Asiatic continent the grandest mountain-system is that of the _Himalayas_ (or "Snowy Mountains"), which limit the Thibetan table-land on the south, and divide it from the hot plains of northern India. They extend in an east and west direction for about 1500 miles, with a breadth of from 200 to 250; and consist of a number of parallel ranges, divided by transverse valleys, and rising one above another like a series of gigantic terraces. The slopes are clothed with an exceedingly rich and beautiful flora, and far up to the very snow-line extend magnificent breadths of forest foliage.[200] On the southern slope this snow-line is about 15,000 feet high; on the northern, 18,000 feet. The loftiest summit of the Himalayas, and probably the very apex of our globe, is _Mount Everest_ (latitude 27° 59'), 29,002 feet in altitude. _Kunchin-jinga_ is 28,156 feet; _Dhawalgiri_, 28,000 feet; and _Javaher_, 25,746 feet above the ocean-level.
"As we ascend the exterior face of these mountains,"[201] says Captain Strachey, "tropical vegetation prevails to a height of about 4000 feet, though even from 3000 feet a few of the forms of colder climates begin to appear; the vegetation, however, is, on the whole, scanty on this declivity. Far different is it when we follow the same zone of elevation into the interior of the mountains, along the courses of the larger rivers, which, owing to the great depths of their valleys, carry a tropical flora into the very heart of the mountain region. The sheltered and confined beds of these rivers, where the two great requisites for tropical vegetation, heat and humidity, are at their maximum, often afford the finest specimens of forest scenery, varied by an admixture of the temperate forms of vegetable life, which here descend to their lowest level. Thus the traveller's eye may rest on palms and acacias intermingled with pines; on oaks or maples covered with epiphytal orchideæ; while pothos and clematis, bamboos and ivy, fill up the strangely contrasted picture.
"Above 4000 feet oaks and rhododendrons greatly increase in number, and these trees, with andromeda (_Pieris_), form the great mass of the forest from 6000 to 8000 feet. Species of the deciduous trees of the temperate zone are gradually introduced as we rise, and these again, with the addition of other pines, prevail in the upper regions of forest--that is, from 8000 to 11,500 feet."
Glaciers abound in the loftier Himalayas. The lowest elevation to which they descend is about 11,500 feet above the level of the sea.
The _Altai Mountains_ lie north of Mongolia, with an average elevation of from 5000 to 7000 feet. Eternal snow crowns their loftiest summit, Mount Bielukha, 11,063 feet. In Central Asia we find the chains of the _Thian-shan_, partly volcanic, and the _Kuen-lun_, which are little known, but probably lift their towering heads to an altitude of fully 20,000 feet. China is traversed from west to east by two mountain-ranges, the Pe-ling and Nan-ling, or "Northern" and "Southern," which prolong their rocky heights to the very shores of the Pacific. West of the table-land of Pamer the eye rests upon the formidable chain of the _Beloor-tagh_, from 18,000 to 20,000 feet in elevation; and on the borders of Central Asia the Himalaya, the Beloor-tagh and other chains unite in the colossal knot or group of the _Hindoo-Koosh_. Thence, with a westerly course, extend the _Paropamisan_ and _Caspian Mountains_, the latter culminating in Mount Demavend, 14,300 feet, near the Caspian Sea. The _Soleiman Mountains_ border on the rugged plateau of Afghanistan; in Armenia rises the fable-haunted crest of Agri-dagh, or _Mount Ararat_, 17,260 feet; while, in Asia Minor, the Taurus chain, which so often beheld the banners and glancing spears of the Romans, attains its loftiest in _Mount Argæus_, or Arjish-dagh, 13,100 feet; and along the coast of Syria rolls the undulating range of _Lebanon_, with Mount Hermon soaring to 9600 feet. Arabia is occupied by a branch of the Lebanon, which runs southward into the Sinaitic peninsula. The highest of the Sinai Mountains is 9300 feet above the sea.
The average altitude of the _Ghauts_, which line the east and west coasts of Hindostan, is 3000 feet; but some of their summits aspire to 8000 feet.
A range of high mountains traverses the dreary peninsula of Kamtschatka, and appears to be a continuation of the volcanic chain which forms the Kurile Islands, and extends even to Japan and the great islands of the Eastern Archipelago. Many of the Kamtschatkan volcanoes are still active, such as Avatsha, Kluchevsky, and Assachnish, and though shrouded in snow and ice project from their seething caldrons vast showers of ashes, stones, boiling water, and lava. Avatsha is 9600 feet high.
The Indian islands contain many colossal mountains, mostly, if not all, of a volcanic character, and the same generalization is true of the beautiful Polynesian archipelagos:--
"Summer-isles of Eden lying in dark purple spheres of sea."
Mount Ophir, in Sumatra, is 13,840 feet high; Stamat, in Java, 12,300 feet; Indiapura, in Sumatra, 12,140 feet; Tomboro, in the island of Sumbawa, 7600 feet; and Kilauea, in the Sandwich Islands, 3970 feet. Kina-balu, in Borneo, is a magnificent mass, 13,968 feet in height. "Its grand precipices," says a traveller,[202] "its polished granite surfaces glittering under the bright tropical rays, the dashing cascades, which fall from so great a height as to dissolve in spray before being lost in the dark valleys below, have a magical effect upon the imagination."
* * * * *
My rapid survey of the mountain-systems of the globe now brings both writer and reader to the African Continent, which contains, however, an unusually large proportion of plain and low level. The northern mountain-ranges, which extend from east to west parallel to the Mediterranean, are known to geographers under the general appellation of _Mount Atlas_, whose culminating point occurs in the peak of Miltoin, 11,400 feet, to the south-east of the city of Morocco.
In the north-eastern part of the continent lie the _Mountains of Abyssinia_, the highest pinnacle being that of Geesh, which towers at an elevation of 15,000 feet above the sea. Many other summits are also crowned with "snows eternal," feeding a succession of streams which pour their waters into the White Nile.
Detached masses and mountain-groups spread along the western coast, between the 12th and 18th parallels of north and south latitude respectively. To the north of the Equator lie the _Kong Mountains_; and near the coast of the Bight of Biafra rises the semi-extinct volcano of the _Camaroons_, 13,129 feet high. This elevation is far exceeded by that of the colossal summits, which on the eastern coast are situated within a few degrees of the equinoctial line, and wear a crown of snow which is indissoluble. One of these, _Kilimandjaro_, has an altitude of 22,814 feet, while _Kenia_ cannot be less than 20,000 feet. Others are probably equal, or little inferior, to these in height.
In South Africa are three ranges of mountains, or rather terraces, the northernmost of which is called the _Nieuweld_, and runs in a general course of east and west. Towards its eastern extremity it bears the name of the _Sneeaberg_, or Snowy Mountain, and its summits are frequently 1000 feet high. The _Compassberg_ group is 7000 feet in elevation. Immediately to the south of Cape Town rises the curious flat-topped _Table Mountain_, 3582 feet in height. The _Peak of Teneriffe_, in the Canary Isles, off the north-west coast, is volcanic; it rises 12,236 feet above the sea.
* * * * *
Asia possesses, as we have seen, the loftiest mountain-peaks, but it is on the American continent we meet with the grandest mountain-systems. We remark, in the first place, that they are all directed from north to south; in the second, that they are grouped along the western and eastern coasts in two unequal systems, converging towards each other as they run southward. In North America these two systems are the _Rocky Mountains_ on the west; and the _Apalachian_, or _Alleghany_, on the east. The former consists of a mountain-region, diversified with valleys, terraces, and plateaus, varying in breadth from 40 to 100 miles, and raising several summits to a very conspicuous elevation, as in Mount Brown, 15,900 feet, and the volcanic peak of Mount Elias, in California, 17,500 feet.
The _Apalachian_ range extends from the Gulf of St. Lawrence to the parallel of 34°, a course of 1500 miles. It is intersected by Lake Champlain and the valley of the Hudson. Its average height does not exceed 3000 feet; but it culminates in Mount Washington to an altitude of 6234 feet.
In South America the chain of the Rocky Mountains is prolonged in the magnificent system of the _Cordilleras de los Andes_, or the Andes, which commences immediately to the southward of the Isthmus of Panama, extends along the whole stretch of the western coast, and finally terminates in the rocky archipelago of Tierra del Fuego. This chain is locally distinguished into the Columbian, Peruvian, Bolivian, Chilian, and Patagonian Andes. Its widest extension occurs between the 20th and 25th parallels, where it measures upwards of 400 miles across. Throughout its entire course it attains a very considerable elevation. Its volcanic character is very marked. Thus, in the Columbian Andes, _Antisana_ and _Cotopaxi_ are still active; in the Chilian, _Aconcagua_ is the loftiest volcano on the globe; in the Patagonian, four active volcanoes occur. The region at the base of the Chilian Andes suffers more from volcanic convulsion than any other part of the world, and its towns are repeatedly destroyed by earthquakes.
The principal summits are:--Aconcagua, 23,944 feet; Chimborazo, 21,415 feet; Sahama, 22,350 feet; Cotopaxi, 18,867; Antisana, 19,136 feet; Sorata, 21,286 feet; and Illimanni, 21,149 feet.
On the eastern coast we meet with the Mountains of Guiana and the Mountains of Brazil, never reaching a higher level than 5000 feet. _Mount Sarmiento_, in Tierra del Fuego, is 6900 feet above the sea. In the West Indies the loftiest point is found in the _Blue Mountains_ of Jamaica, 7278 feet.