652 



AMERICAN FORESTRY 



parts are continually being replenished 

 by fresh snowfalls, which at those high 

 altitudes do not entirely melt away in 

 summer; while the lower end, projecting 

 as it does below the snow line, loses 

 annually more by melting than it re- 

 ceived by precipitation, and is main- 

 tained only by the continued accession 

 of masses from above. The rate at 

 which the ice advances has been deter- 

 mined by Prof. J. N. Le Conte, of the 

 University of California. In 1903 he 

 placed a row of stakes across the glacier, 

 and with the aid of surveying instru- 

 ments obtained accurate measurements 

 of the distances through which they 

 moved from day to day. He found that 

 in summer, when the movement is 

 greatest, it averages 16 inches per day. 

 This figure, however, applies only to the 

 central portion of the glacier the main 

 current, so to speak for the margins 

 necessarily move more slowly, being 

 retarded by friction against the channel 

 sides. 



As one continues the ascent by the 

 wagon road a partial view of the glacier's 

 lower course is obtained, and there is 

 gained some idea of its stream-like 

 character. More satisfying are the 

 views from Paradise Park. Here several 

 miles of the ice stream (its total length 

 is nearly 5 miles) lie stretched out at 

 one's feet, while looking up toward the 

 mountain one beholds the tributary ice 

 fields and ice streams, pouring, as it 

 were, from above, from right and left, 

 rent by innumerable crevasses and re- 

 sembling foaming cascades suddenly 

 crystallized in place. The turmoil of 

 these upper branches may be too 

 confusing to be studied with profit, but 

 the more placid lower course presents 

 a favorable field for observation, and a 

 readily accessible one at that. 



A veritable frozen river it seems, 

 flowing between smooth, parallel banks, 

 half a mile apart. Its surface, in con- 

 trast to the glistening ice cascades above, 

 has the prevailingly somber tint of old 

 ice, relieved here and there by bright 

 patches of last winter's snow. These 

 lie for the most part in gaping fissures 

 or crevasses that run athwart the 

 glacier at short intervals and divide its 

 body into narrow slices. In the upper 



course, where the glacier overrides 

 obstacles in its bed, the crevasses are 

 particularly numerous and irregularly 

 spaced, sometimes occurring in two sets 

 intersecting at right angles, and pro- 

 ducing square-cut prisms. Farther down 

 the ice stream's current is more sluggish 

 and the crevasses heal up by degrees, 

 providing a united surface, over which 

 one may travel freely. 



SNOWCUPS AND HONEYCOMBS. 



At the high altitudes the sun heat is 

 astonishingly intense, as more than one 

 uninitiated mountain climber has learned 

 to his sorrow by neglecting to take the 

 customary precaution of blacking his 

 face before making the ascent. In a few 

 hours the skin is literally scorched and 

 begins to blister painfully. 



At the foot of the mountain the sun 

 heat is relatively feeble, for much of it is 

 absorbed by the dust and vapor in the 

 lower layers of the atmosphere, but on 

 the summit, which projects 2 miles 

 higher, the air is thin and pure, and lets 

 the rays pass through but little dimin- 

 ished in strength. 



The manner in which the sun affects 

 the snow is peculiar and distinctive. 

 Instead of reducing the surface evenly, 

 it melts out many close-set cups and 

 hollows, a foot or more in diameter and 

 separated by sharp spires and crests. 

 No water is visible anywhere, either in 

 rills or in pools, evaporation keeping 

 pace with the reduction. If the sun's 

 action is permitted to continue un- 

 interrupted for many days, as may 

 happen in a hot, dry summer, these 

 snow cups deepen by degrees, until at 

 length they assume the aspect of gigan- 

 tic bee cells, several feet in depth. Snow 

 fields thus honeycombed may be met 

 with on the slopes above Gibraltar 

 Rock. They are wearisome to traverse, 

 for the ridges and spines are fairly 

 resistant, so that one must laboriously 

 clamber over them. Most exasperating 

 however, is the going after a snowstorm 

 has filled the honeycombs. Then the 

 traveler, waist deep in mealy snow, is 

 left to flounder haphazard through a 

 hidden labyrinth. 



Of interest in this connection is the 

 great snow cliff immediately west of 



