THE MUSEUM. 



89 



For the mean lake stage such discharge 

 will begin in about 1,006 years, and 

 after 1,500 there will be no interrup- 

 tion. In about 2;ooo years the Illinois 

 river and the Niagara will carry equal 

 portions of the surplus water of the 

 Great Lakes. In 2,560 years the dis- 

 charge of the Niagara will be intermit- 

 tent, falling at low stages of the lake, 

 and in 3.500 years there will be no Ni- 

 agara The basin of Lake Erie will 

 then be tributary to Lake Huron, the 

 current being reversed in the Detroit 

 ami St. Clair channels. 



The subject is intensely interesting 

 and is well handled by Professor Gil- 

 bert. Speleological research adds its 

 testimony to the fact of this movement 

 of mother earth. Certain islands near 

 the south shore of Lake Erie have 

 caves opening at the water's edge, be- 

 ing now partly occupied with lake wa- 

 ter. These caves were explored by E. 

 L. Moseley, who finds in them stalac- 

 tites extending from the roof down in- 

 to the water, and stalagmites lying 

 three or four feet below the present 

 surface of the lake. "Comparing the 

 present water level with the lowest 

 levels known in recent times, it ap- 

 pears that these stalagmites have not 

 been above water during the present 

 century, and as stalagmites are found 

 only in the air, it is clear that the lake 

 has encroached on land since they 

 were made." 



A third paper relates to the glaciers 

 of Mount Rainier. In this Israel C. 

 Russell tells of a novel e.xperience of 

 his party in one of the snow filled cra- 

 ters on the summit of the mountain, 

 for Rainiers, America's grandest moun- 

 tain, was once an active volcano. 

 Here, at an elevation of more than 

 14,000 feet. Russell and his party 

 passed a night in a snow cavern. It 

 was a strange and altogether uncanny 

 situation. 



At this enormous altitude, frozen on 

 one side by the eternal cold of space, 

 on the other scorched by the escaping 

 residual heat of the primal molten 

 globe. "The cavern we chose in 



which to pass the night, although ir- 

 regular, was about 60 feet long by« 40 

 wide, and had an arched ceiling some 

 20 feet high. The snow had been 

 melted out from beneath, leaving a 

 roof so thin that a diffused blue light 

 prenetrated the chamber. The floor 

 sloped steeply, and on the side toward 

 the center of the crater there was a 

 narrow space between the rocks and • 

 descending roof which led to unexplor- 

 ed depths. As a slide into this forbid- 

 den gulf would have been exceedingly 

 uncomfortable, if not serious, our life 

 line was stretched from crag to crag, 

 so as to furnish a support and to allow 

 us to walk back and forth during the 

 night without chances of slipping. 

 Three arched openings or doorways 

 communicated with other chambers, 

 and through these drafts of cold air 

 were continually blowing. The icy air 

 chilled the vapor rising from the warm 

 rocks and filled the chamber with 

 steam which took on grotesque forms 

 in the uncertain, fading light. In the 

 central part of the icy chamber was a 

 pinnacle of rock, from the crevices of 

 which steam was issuing with a low 

 hissing sound. Some of the steam 

 jets were too hot to be comfortable 

 to the ungloved hand. In this unin- 

 viting chamber we passed the night. 

 The muffled roar of the gale as it swept 

 over the mountain could be heard in 

 our retreat and made us thankful for 

 the shelter the cavern afforded." 



The floor of the cell was too uneven 

 and too steeply inclined to admit of ly- 

 ing down. Throughout the night we 

 leaned against the hot rocks or tramp- 

 ed wearily up and down holding the 

 life line. Cold blasts from the branch- 

 ing ice chambers sweep over us. Our 

 clothes were saturated with condensed 

 steam, while one side of the body rest- 

 ing against the rocks, would be hot, 

 the strong drafts of air with a freezing 

 temperature chilled the other side. 



After long hours of intense darkness 

 the dome of snow above us became 

 faintly illuminated, telling us that the 

 sun was again shining. 



