Part 10

To enumerate, in the broadest way, the variety of conditions under which life exists here, one has only to enumerate creatures living in the deepest abysses of the ocean; high up on the slopes of the Himalayas; swarming in arctic seas; withstanding the hot glare of a tropical sun; living deep in the ground; breeding in the darkest caves; flourishing in desert regions; thriving in water below freezing, and again in water nearly at the boiling point. Professor Jeffries Wyman, in a memoir on "Living Organisms in Heated Water," has collected data showing that fishes are found living in water ranging from 104° to 135° Fahrenheit. He also found that low forms of plant life exist in water of various temperatures as high as:

168° F. observed by Dr. Hooker in Sorujkund; 174° " " " Capt. Strachey in Thibet; 185° " " " Humboldt in LaTrinchera; 199° " " " Dr. Brewer in California; 208° " " " Descloizeaux in Iceland.

If we consider man alone, we find him at Aden, on the Red Sea, at a temperature of 130° in the shade, and in Siberia at 70° below zero; grovelling in mines deep in the Earth, and living in great communities ten thousand feet above sea-level; fighting battles on the slopes of the Himalayas, at an altitude of 19,000 feet; nomadic on sterile tracts; sweltering under the glaring sun of the equator, and existing in regions of perpetual snow and ice, and without sunlight for six months of the year. Such are a few of the varied conditions to which man has become accustomed since he emerged from his tropical and arboreal relatives.

The question finally comes down to the effect of the rarefaction of air on life. An inquiry as to how far man can stand changes of atmospheric pressure is of interest in this connection, for we know that sudden changes are accompanied by mountain sickness, at great elevations, and caisson disease under great pressure. Large birds soar among the high peaks of the Andes and drop at once to sea-level. I have dredged delicate mollusks at a depth of one hundred and fifty fathoms of water and kept them alive for weeks in an aquarium. Man, while showing a sensitiveness to changes in barometric pressure when experienced suddenly, can nevertheless get accustomed to great ranges of pressure. The cities of Bogota and Quito are 10,000 feet above the level of the sea and yet in Quito when De Saussure, the naturalist, became so ill from the rarefaction that he could hardly find energy enough to read his instruments, and his servants, digging holes in the snow, fainted from the exertion, the natives were pursuing their various activities, and bull-fights were going on! One has only to read the accounts of the English expedition to Thibet to learn that troops fought in skirmishes at the height of 19,000 feet.

Mr. Douglas W. Freshfield (in "Scot. Geo. Mag.," April, 1905) gives an account of mountain sickness in the Sikkim Himalaya. He says the effect of high altitude was different in different individuals; some men were entirely free from it, and among them a Goorkha, who ran back in a pass at an altitude of 20,000 feet to hurry up some loiterers. Another member of the party, an Englishman, actually gained in weight, and had an increased appetite. Here, then, are a few men among a small number, without previous experience in rarefied air, feeling no disturbance, and, in one case, actually benefited by it!

The question arises as to what natural selection would do among a hundred million say, who, through many centuries, might be subject to a gradual attenuation of the air. The result of rarefaction of the atmosphere and the absence of moisture is associated with marked hygienic influences. The Hadley Climatological Laboratory of the University of New Mexico has made special investigations as to the increased lung capacity of those living at high altitudes, the relation of dry soil to health, etc. Important work has been done by Drs. John Weinzirl, C. Edw. Magnusson, F. S. Maltby, and Mrs. W. C. Hadley, and their investigations go to prove that high altitudes and absence of moisture are favorable to the health of man on this world, and by analogy would not be inimical to the survival of certain forms of life in Mars.

Dr. S. E. Solby (in "Medical Climatology," p. 43, 1897), in describing the effects of rarefaction of the air says: "The amount of air taken in at each breath becomes greater, and the air-cells, many of which are at lower altitudes often unused, are dilated."

If we consider the atmospheric pressure under which a man can work and live, we find equal adaptability.

Mr. Gardner D. Hiscox, in his work on "Compressed Air, Its Production, Uses, and Applications," says: "Experience has taught that the ill effects are in proportion to the rapidity with which the transmission is made from compressed air to the normal atmosphere. That while the pressure remains stationary all subjective phenomena disappear." He speaks of pressure of forty or fifty pounds to the square inch, and says that, at these pressures, taste, smell, and the sense of touch lose their acuteness.

In the "Engineering Record" for January 23, 1904, there is an interesting article on "Caisson Disease." It says that twenty pounds pressure per square inch is common on foundation work in New York, and that bridge piers have been built when pressures of nearly fifty pounds were required. The deepest pneumatic work in New York was done in the East River gas tunnel, when the maximum pressure was about forty-seven to fifty pounds per square inch above atmospheric. In the gas tunnel four men died from the effects of heavy pressure, while none died from that reason under bridge work. The article further says that ordinarily "strong young men in proper condition do not suffer from working two four-hour shifts daily, under pressure up to twenty-five or thirty pounds; above that limit injurious effects may be felt," etc.

Let any reasonable man consider the meaning of these data. Without any selective action on the race, without even a graded increase of pressure from boyhood up, these workmen perform hard labor of stone excavation at these pressures, and in the same way, without previous experience, men are fighting battles at 19,000 feet altitude, and in one instance growing fat at 20,000 feet. Eminent German and French scientists have studied the effects of pneumatic pressure by numerous experiments on men and animals. One experimenter subjected a great number of dogs, cats, rabbits, guinea-pigs, and other animals to repeated pressures up to one hundred pounds, and carefully observed the effects of the varying conditions, some of which were fatal, while others were apparently harmless. The experiments showed that sudden release from heavy pressures was fatal, but that if three or four hours were occupied in reducing a pressure of one hundred pounds, it was harmless.

With these facts one cannot help wondering whether even man himself could not exist on Mars if allowed time to get accustomed to the rare atmosphere through thousands of generations of minute increments of adaptation.

As a matter of fact we use but a small portion of our lung capacity. Let any one experiment with himself and observe that after he has inspired the accustomed quantity of air he can continue for some time to inspire more air, and also when he has expired the accustomed quantity of air in normal breathing, he can continue to expire a great deal more air. Professor Jeffries Wyman, the famous lecturer on comparative anatomy at Harvard, used to tell us that we ordinarily inspired about twenty cubic inches of air but we could inspire one hundred cubic inches more by an effort; also that having expired the ordinary quantity we could expire a hundred cubic inches more and when the lungs were removed from the body, an extra hundred cubic inches could be forced from them. A surgeon friend tells me that many men live and work with the greater portion of both lungs diseased, and unable to perform their functions.

It would be an interesting inquiry to ascertain what other species of the animal kingdom has so wide a range as man. The dog evidently follows him in all altitudes and at all temperatures.

The group of insects to which the bees, wasps, and ants belong, have always been recognized as standing highest in intelligence among the invertebrates. In the great work of Dr. and Mrs. Peckham on wasps are shown manifestations of intelligence among the wasps that are simply startling, and the remarkable work of Miss Adele M. Fielde on the ants adds greatly to the evidences of their unique intelligence. The ant stands among the invertebrates much as man does among the vertebrates. One has only to state concretely that ants practise a division of labor; distinguish certain colors; estimate numbers; recognize friends and enemies; harvest seeds, and, it is said, raise them, hence are called agricultural ants; have insect cows and milk them; collect leaves which they chop up for the purpose of raising a kind of fungus upon which they live; organize raids and fight battles in masses; enslave other species; build covered ways and tunnels; and perform other acts of a similar nature.

Bearing these statements in mind it is an interesting fact that at altitudes in Arizona, where man finds it impossible to live except by fetching water from regions below, the ant, equally dependent on water, has survived on these high tablelands, and manages to raise huge colonies. In wandering over the mesa at Flagstaff, at an elevation of over 7,000 feet, the extreme dryness of the ground is indicated by long cracks which appear on the surface. Here, where hardly any insect is found except an occasional roaming butterfly, the ant has survived and is met with in great numbers. Even a rare solitary insect known as the velvet ant, and consequently without communal aid, is found chirping merrily amidst these arid surroundings.

In this connection, it is interesting to observe that creatures endowed with the highest intelligence, both vertebrate and invertebrate, manage to survive in considerable numbers in regions devoid of water. One conveys it to his habitations from lower levels, the other digs wells or manages to utilize the moisture from the roots of trees.

XIV

MY OWN WORK

Snow caps of solid carbonic acid gas, a planet cracked in a positively monomaniacal manner meteors ploughing tracks across its surface with such mathematical precision that they must have been educated to the performance, and so forth and so on, in hypotheses each more astounding than its predecessor, commend themselves to man, if only by such means he may escape the admission of anything approaching his kind.

PERCIVAL LOWELL.

I am led to present these few brief memoranda of my own work in order to meet questions which would naturally be asked as to whether I had ever seen Mars through a telescope, and if so did I make out any markings or canals.

DOME OF THE LOWELL OBSERVATORY, FLAGSTAFF, ARIZONA]

It was my good fortune to have the privilege of observing Mars every night at the Lowell Observatory (see Plate VII) for thirty-four days, covering an almost complete presentation of the planet. A few nights were cloudy and no observations were made. With these exceptions I was in the observer's chair several times each evening. The twenty-four inch refractor of which I had the use was the last telescope Clark ever made, and he pronounced it his best one. This instrument (Plate VIII) is mounted on a mesa near the town of Flagstaff, Arizona, at a height of over 7,000 feet above sea-level, in an atmosphere of remarkable clarity and steadiness. I have already stated on page 80 my first experiences in observing and will only present the brief notes I made at the time of observation. Better results would have accompanied these efforts had I followed the custom of Michael Faraday and asked what was I to look at, what was I expected to see? I had been somewhat prejudiced as to the existence of the canals by the comments of sporadic observers, many of whom, by the way, had never been able to see them, and denying that any one else ever had, straightway proceeded to suggest a theory to explain their presence! Careful to avoid any bias in the matter I rigidly refused to allow either Professor Lowell or his assistants to suggest where I might find a canal or a marking on the disk. The night before I left the Observatory for home I asked Mr. Lowell for the first time, to indicate the position of some conspicuous canal which I had not seen. This he did and examining the region which I supposed he had indicated on the disk I searched in vain for the line. In doing so another line was detected and drawn, and on confessing my failure to see the line he had described, showed him my drawing, when he exclaimed, "Why, you have got it," and sure enough when he showed me his drawing and repeated the directions he had given me, I found that I had been looking at the wrong pole of the planet.

TWENTY-FOUR INCH TELESCOPE OF THE LOWELL OBSERVATORY, FLAGSTAFF, ARIZONA]

In one stage of great discouragement I came across a statement made by Mr. A. Stanley Williams which has already been quoted, namely, that he had to observe continually for two months before sufficient sensitiveness enabled him to make out the more delicate markings. That I might have seen more had I been acclimated, and had been accustomed to telescopic observation there is no doubt. The record is poor enough and yet under the conditions mentioned the results may be of interest to the reader.

May 14. Midnight. Saw planet for the first time. A beautiful luminous disk with shades of tone dimly visible. Southern pole cap white and seen.

May 15. Certain details sufficiently distinct to make out dark areas, and at times a line or two.