[
{"source_document": "", "creation_year": 1937, "culture": " English\n", "content": "Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Dave Morgan and the Online\n    [Illustration: Geology of Colorado National Monument]\n    [Illustration: BALANCED ROCK, near head of Fruita Canyon. Spire and\n    rock are Wingate Sandstone resting on red Chinle Formation; thin\n    caprock is protective layer of resistant Kayenta Formation.\n    (Frontispiece)]\n    [Illustration: The Geologic Story of COLORADO NATIONAL MONUMENT]\n                    GEOLOGICAL SURVEY BULLETIN 1508\n                UNITED STATES DEPARTMENT OF THE INTERIOR\n                 Doyle G. Frederick, _Acting Director_\n    [Illustration: U.S. DEPARTMENT OF THE INTERIOR \u00b7 MARCH 3, 1849]\n  Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data\n  Lohman, Stanley William, 1907-\n  The geologic story of Colorado National Monument.\n  (Geological Survey Bulletin 1508)\n  Bibliography: p. 131\n  Includes index.\n  1. Geology\u2014Colorado National Monument.\n  2. Colorado National Monument.\n  I. Title. II. Series: United States Geological Survey Bulletin 1508\n For sale by the Superintendent of Documents, U.S. Government Printing\n      The Brown-Stanton river expedition                               11\n  Trips through and around the Monument                                88\n      From Grand Junction through the Redlands to the West Entrance\n      From Fruita to the West Entrance of the Monument                 96\n      Through the Monument from West to East Entrances                 97\n      From the East Entrance to Grand Junction                        118\n      Through Glade Park from the northwest arm of Ute Canyon to\n      From Glade Park to Grand Junction via the Little Park Road      121\n  R\u00e9sum\u00e9 of geologic history and relation to other National Parks\n          and Monuments in the Colorado Plateau                       125\n  Figure\n  7. Rock Column of Colorado National Monument                         20\n  9. Block diagrams of early Proterozoic events                        25\n  18. Mottled salmon-and-white Slick Rock Member                       43\n  22. Excavating type specimen of _Brachiosaurus altithorax_ Riggs     51\n  23. Skeletons of typical dinosaurs of Morrison Formation             52\n  24. Burro Canyon Formation and Dakota Sandstone                      54\n  29. Ladder Creek monocline and Redlands fault                        66\n  33. Geologic structures at Fruita entrance to Colorado National\n  34. Probable drainage patterns and land forms near the Monument at\n          four successive stages of development                        74\n  38. Closeup of updragged Wingate Sandstone along Redlands fault      90\n  39. Bronze plaque and monument marking the discovery of\n  43. Looking west from divide on Broadway 2 miles east of West\n  44. New fill on Rim Rock Drive between two tunnels on west side of\n  46. Campsites at north end of campground                            101\n  55. Looking northeast from old Serpents Trail                       114\n  56. South portal of tunnel through Wingate Sandstone                115\n  58. Glade Park fault viewed from the ground                         122\n  59. Glade Park fault viewed from the air                            123\n  60. Ladder Creek monocline and Redlands fault                       124\nFrom 1946 until about 1956 I carried out fieldwork intermittently on the\ngeology and artesian water supply of the Grand Junction area, Colorado,\nthe results of which have been published.[1] The area mapped\ngeologically contains about 332 square miles in the west-central part of\nMesa County and includes all of Colorado National Monument. During the\nfieldwork several successive custodians or superintendents and several\npark naturalists urged that upon completion of my professional paper I\nprepare a brief account of the geology of the Monument in terms\nunderstandable by laymen, and which could be sold at the Visitor Center.\nThis I was happy to do and there resulted \u201cThe geologic story of\nColorado National Monument,\u201d[2] published by the Colorado and Black\nCanyon Natural History Association in cooperation with the National Park\nService. This report contained colored sketches by John R. Stacy and a\ncolored cover, but the photographs and many of the drawings were\nreproduced in black and white.\nLater, after I had prepared popular style reports containing mostly\ncolor photographs on Canyonlands[3] and Arches[4] National Parks,\nofficials of Colorado National Monument and I discussed the possibility\nof preparing a revised and enlarged edition of my 1965 report containing\nmainly color photographs, inasmuch as the supply of the black and white\nedition was nearing exhaustion, and later became out of print. At the\nmeeting in the Monument on June 8, 1976, attended by Robert (Bob) E.\nBenton, Superintendent, A. J. (Jerry) Banta, Supervising Park Ranger,\nMargaret Short, Park Naturalist and Secretary of the Natural History\nAssociation, and me, it was agreed that: (1) A revised and enlarged\nedition containing mostly color photographs should be prepared for\npublication as a bulletin of the U.S. Geological Survey, and (2) that\nthe Colorado and Black Canyon Natural History Association gave its\npermission for use of any or all of the copyrighted material in the\nfirst edition. The present report resulted.\nThe cover is a duotone of a 9- \u00d7 12-cm infrared photograph of\nIndependence Monument taken by me. (See also fig. 6.) Most of the color\nphotographs were taken by me on 4- \u00d7 5-inch or 9- \u00d7 12-cm tripod mounted\ncameras using lenses of several focal lengths, but I took some with\n35-mm cameras. Some of the color photographs and all the black and white\nones were taken by those credited in the captions, to whom grateful\nacknowledgment is made. The points from which most of the photographs\nwere taken are shown in figure 26.\n    [Illustration: West side of Otto\u2019s Monument\n    ROCK OF AGES\n    CROSS OF AGES]\n                        History of the Monument\nThe story of how Colorado National Monument came into being is as\ncolorful as the canyons and cliffs themselves. The fantastic canyon\ncountry had a magical attraction for John Otto[5] (fig. 1) who, in 1906,\ncamped near the northeastern mouth of Monument Canyon and began building\ntrails into the canyons and onto the mesas\u2014the high tablelands that\nseparate the deep canyons. He did this back-breaking work simply because\nhe wanted to and so that others could share the beauty of this wild\ncountry.\nIn 1907 Otto got the Grand Junction Chamber of Commerce to petition\nSecretary of the Interior James A. Garfield to set aside the area as a\nNational Monument. Otto\u2019s dream came true on May 24, 1911, when\nPresident William Howard Taft signed the proclamation creating the\nMonument. On June 14, Otto climbed to the top of Independence Monument\n(fig. 6) where he placed the Stars and Stripes to celebrate Flag Day.\nFor several years thereafter Otto placed the flag atop Independence\nMonument on July 4th to celebrate Independence Day.\nUntil about 1921 the only routes into the Monument proper were John\nOtto\u2019s trails, but in that year the ranchers of Glade Park joined with\nOtto in building the steep, twisting Serpents Trail from No Thoroughfare\nCanyon to the mesa above\u2014a much shorter route to Grand Junction. It had\n54 switchbacks and climbed about 1,500 feet in 2\u00bd miles. The Serpents\nTrail was included in the Monument in 1933 and was used until 1950 when\nan easier route was built up the west side of No Thoroughfare Canyon and\nthrough a tunnel to the top of the mesa (figs. 3, 56). The Serpents\nTrail has been preserved as an interesting foot trail (fig. 55), which\ncan be hiked downhill in an hour or so. A parking area near the foot of\nthe trail allows one member of a group to drive ahead to await the\nothers.\n    [Illustration: JOHN OTTO, fantastic father of Colorado National\n    Monument, and his helpers. Photograph courtesy Grand Junction\n    Chamber of Commerce. (Fig. 1)]\nIn 1924 John Otto got the idea that the Monument should include a herd\nof big game, so he talked the Colorado Game and Fish Department into\nshipping six young elk, and he got the local Elks Lodge to pay the\ntransportation costs. The elk were turned loose in Monument Canyon, but\nthey found the sparse vegetation and scant water supply ill suited to\ntheir needs, so after a few years they found a way out over the rim and\nmigrated about 20 miles south of the Monument to lush high country where\nthey joined with native elk and multiplied to become the ancestors of\nthe present fine herd on Pi\u00f1on Mesa (shown in fig. 34_D_). Occasionally\na few return to the Monument and may be seen mainly in Ute Canyon.\nNative mule deer are frequently seen in and near the Monument.\nFar from being discouraged, Otto then hatched the idea to start a\nbuffalo[6] herd to be purchased by donations of buffalo nickels from\nschool children and by contributions from the Odd Fellows and others. He\nfinally raised enough money to get the patient Game and Fish Department\nto send him two cows and one bull. Unfortunately the bull died, so Otto\ntalked the National Park Service into shipping him a bull from\nYellowstone National Park. This time success crowned his efforts, and\nthe small herd eventually multiplied to as many as 45 animals, but\ngenerally the herd has been kept at about 20-25 head ever since. You may\nspot some of them when you gaze down into Monument or Ute Canyons or\nwhen you drive past the northeastern boundary. Rarely, you may spot one\nin Red Canyon.\nAt the northeast corner of Fourth Street and Ute Avenue in Grand\nJunction is a most unusual object, which illustrates yet another\npeculiarity of John Otto\u2014fantastic father of Colorado National Monument\n(fig. 2). Its history is best told by quoting from Al Look,[7] though\nits purpose still remains a mystery.\n  One day a horse drawn dray backed up to a vacant lot on Grand\n  Junction\u2019s Main Street [corner 6th] and unloaded a granite cube four\n  feet square, carved on two sides. It weighed more than a ton and Otto\n  supervised the setting.\n  One side [now facing west and not visible in fig. 2] showed a three\n  foot circle containing a swastika with a five pointed star in each\n  quarter. Above the emblem was carved \u201cRock of Ages\u201d and below read\n  \u201cCross of Ages.\u201d The second side [now facing south, and shown in fig.\n  2] was beyond normal comprehension. Two large W\u2019s on either side of a\n  small swastika were over the letters or initials P.P., then four chain\n  links with the letters T, H, L, J. inscribed, followed by the initials\n  I.E. Below on the left was \u201c1918,\u201d over \u201cYear 1\u201d. On the right was\n  \u201cOld Count\u201d and under it \u201cNew Count.\u201d Between them stands the word\n  \u2018MARCH.\u2019 Below this are abbreviations for the seven days of the week\n  with the figure 1 under MON ending with a 6 under SAT. The bottom line\n  [most of which is barely visible in the photograph] contained the\n  figure 7 in a circle, a carpenter\u2019s square, a small rectangle,\n  probably representing a level, a plumb bob, a carpenter\u2019s compass and\n  a circle showing the western hemisphere. That is all. It made sense to\n  John Otto because from somewhere he gathered considerable money to\n  have this monument carved by the local gravestone merchant. It stood\n  for several years to mystify pedestrians, and was finally moved beside\n  the Redlands road to the [east entrance of] Colorado Monument where it\n  is now hidden by weeds.[8]\nIt was still there in the 50\u2019s when my family and I were startled to\nfind it. We were afraid it might be lost forever so are glad it finally\nfound a safe resting place on a concrete slab at the museum. I shall\ngreatly appreciate hearing from any reader who can decipher this enigma.\n    [Illustration: JOHN OTTO\u2019S MONUMENT, at southwest corner of the\n    Historical Museum and Institute of Western Colorado, at northeast\n    corner of Fourth Street and Ute Avenue, Grand Junction. View looking\n    north. Face is 4 feet square. (Fig. 2)]\nOtto\u2019s rock is at the southwest corner of The Historical Museum and\nInstitute of Western Colorado. The main attraction inside is a life-size\nskeleton of _Allosaurus_ (fig. 23), whose bones are exact plastic\nreplicas of real ones at the museum of Brigham Young University, at\nProvo, Utah. The painstaking casting of the \u201cbones\u201d and assembly of the\nself-supporting skeleton was done by Al T. Look, son of author Al Look\nlisted under \u201cReferences.\u201d The museum also houses other items of\ninterest from the Grand Junction area.\nConstruction of the scenic Rim Rock Drive through the Monument was begun\nby the National Park Service about 1931 using workers from the Civilian\nConservation Corps, and the drive eventually was completed to join roads\nfrom Fruita and Grand Junction. The route from Fruita includes a winding\nroad up Fruita Canyon and through two tunnels to the mesa (figs. 3, 44,\nA modern Visitor Center, new housing facilities for park personnel,\nadditions to the campgrounds, the Devils Kitchen Picnic Area near the\nEast Entrance, several self-guiding nature trails, and additional\noverlooks and roadside exhibits were completed in 1964 as part of the\nMission 66 program of the National Park Service.\nThe Monument originally included 13,749 acres, but boundary changes in\n1933 and 1939 increased the total to 17,660 acres, and the inclusion of\nall of No Thoroughfare Canyon and other boundary adjustments in 1978\nincreased the size to about 20,457 acres, or about 32 square miles (see\nmap, fig. 3).\n                      Early History of the Region\nJohn Otto, early explorers, and even the Ute Indians who once hunted in\nthe area were by no means the first people to view the Monument, in fact\nthey were \u201cJohnnies-come-lately.\u201d Considerable evidence indicates that\nprehistoric people inhabited the area thousands of years ago.\n    [Illustration: MAP OF COLORADO NATIONAL MONUMENT, showing location\n    in Colorado, boundaries, streams, highways and roads, principal\n    trails, named features, overlooks, and\u2014in triangles\u2014trip guides\n    localities. The trip guides numbers correspond to the numbers in the\n    right margins of the section entitled \u201cTrips through and around the\n    Monument.\u201d Visitors are given pamphlets at the two entrance stations\n    and may purchase other reports and maps at the Visitor Center. (Fig.\nMany years ago Al Look, of Grand Junction, discovered and excavated two\ncaves in the part of No Thoroughfare Canyon formerly outside the\nMonument. He found stone projectile points, knives, awls, milling\nstones, parts of a sandal and coiled basket, reed matting, corn,\ncorncobs, acorns, and animal bones, but no pottery\u2014indicating that the\npeople had not progressed beyond basket making. Similar artifacts were\nfound in several other nearby places on the Uncompahgre Plateau.\nArchaeologists have named this old culture the Uncompahgre Complex, and\ndate it back to a few thousand years before the time of Christ.[9] It\nshould be pointed out that it is unlawful to remove artifacts, fossils,\nrocks, or minerals from a National Park or Monument.\nIn the summer of 1963 an archaeological survey of Colorado National\nMonument was carried out, under the terms of an agreement between the\nNational Park Service and the University of Colorado, by Stroh and Ewing\nand their field assistants.[10] A total of 75 aboriginal sites were\nfound of which 71 were within the Monument boundaries of that date, and\n4 were closely adjacent. These comprised 41 open campsites, 24 rock\nshelters, 2 small caves, and 8 chipping stations. Artifacts recovered\nincluded 62 projectile points, 21 metates (grinding stones), 40 manos\n(hand stones), 111 whole or fragments of blades or scrapers, 6 choppers,\nseveral fragments of baskets, potsherds (bits of broken pottery) at two\nsites, 2 wood awls, several strands of yucca fibers, 3 corncobs, 6\nkernels of corn, several bone fragments, storage cists at five sites,\nand petroglyphs at three locations.\nStroh and Ewing concluded that the majority of the sites appear to have\nbeen the campsites of a hunting and gathering people, and they\nspeculated that there may have been aboriginal activity in the area from\nas long as several thousand years ago to relatively recent times.\nThe largest of the petroglyphs,[11] or rock drawings, are on a fallen\nslab of Wingate Sandstone in No Thoroughfare Canyon, and are shown in\nfigure 4. Archaeologist John Crouch (footnote 10), who kindly reexamined\nthese petroglyphs in February 1980, told me that most of the figures\nappear to be Shoshonian (Ute), but that some may be of the Fremont\nculture[12] or even older.\n    [Illustration: PETROGLYPHS, on fallen slab of Wingate Sandstone in\n    No Thoroughfare Canyon. Figure of man at lower right is about 6\n    inches high. The fading designs were traced with chalk before\n    photographing them. Photograph by T. R. Giles, U.S. Geological\n    Survey. (Fig. 4)]\n    [Illustration: Petroglyph]\nPrior to 1881 the Monument area was inhabited only by Ute Indians, but\nit was visited from time to time by a few fur trappers, explorers, and\ngeologists. In 1776 an expedition led by Fathers Dominguez and Escalante\npassed northward across Grand Mesa, the high plateau just east of the\narea, which is pointed out in many of the photographs. A trading post\nwas built by Joseph Roubidoux about 1838 just above the present site of\nGrand Junction. In 1853 Captain John W. Gunnison, seeking a new route\nfor a transcontinental railroad, led an exploring party down what is now\nthe Gunnison River Valley, past the confluence with the Grand River (now\ncalled the Colorado, p. 16), and on down the valley. Geologists and\ntopographers of the Hayden Survey found only Ute Indians in the area in\n1875 and 1876, and their field season of 1875 was abruptly cut short\nbecause of skirmishes with hostile Utes. After the Meeker (Colorado)\nMassacre of 1879, believed by many to have been caused mainly by the\nignorance and shortsightedness of Meeker himself, treaties were signed\nforcing the Utes out of western Colorado onto reservations in eastern\nUtah, and the last of the Utes was reportedly out of the area by\nSeptember 1881. The Grand Valley was immediately opened to settlement,\nand the first ranch was staked out on September 7, 1881. Nineteen days\nlater George A. Crawford founded Grand Junction as a townsite and formed\nthe Grand Junction Town Company the next month. The success of the new\ntown was assured on November 21, 1882, when the narrow-gage line of the\nDenver and Rio Grande Railroad (now Denver and Rio Grande Western\nRailroad) reached it via the Gunnison River valley. The town of Fruita\nwas founded by William E. Pabor in 1883 and incorporated the following\nyear.\n                 The Brown-Stanton River Expedition[14]\nOf the many early expeditions down the Colorado River, only one went\npast what is now Colorado National Monument\u2014the ill-fated Brown-Stanton\nexpedition. After the pioneering expeditions of 1869 and 1871 down the\nGreen and Colorado Rivers by Major John Wesley Powell and his men, the\nmany ensuing river expeditions started in Utah or Wyoming; but the first\nphase of the Brown-Stanton expedition started in Colorado\u2014at Grand\nJunction. In 1889 Frank M. Brown organized a company for the\nconstruction of the proposed Denver, Colorado Canyon, and Pacific\nRailway, which was to carry coal from mines in Colorado over a\n\u201cwater-level\u201d line through the mighty canyons of the Colorado River to\nthe Gulf of California some 1,200 miles away, from which coal would be\nshipped to various ports in California. On March 26, 1889, president\nBrown, chief engineer F. C. Kendricks, and assistant engineer T. P.\nRigney drove the first stake at Grand Junction for a survey of the new\nline. Then Brown left for the East to obtain financing, and the other\ntwo men plus some hired hands took off in a boat down the Grand River.\nAfter reaching the confluence, they towed the boat up the Green River to\nthe town of Green River, Utah, thus becoming the first to make this trip\nupstream, albeit on foot and dragging their boats. Brown, who had\nreturned from the East, his newly appointed chief engineer Robert\nBrewster Stanton, and 14 others in six ill-designed boats of cedar\nrather than oak, left Green River, Utah, on May 25, 1889. Against the\nadvice of Major Powell and others, they carried no life preservers.\nAfter many mishaps, Brown and two others were drowned near the head of\nMarble Canyon, and the ill-fated expedition temporarily ground to a\nhalt. However, the indefatigable Stanton had new boats built of oak, and\nwith a reorganized party of 12 left the mouth of the Dirty Devil River\non November 25. After many additional mishaps the party finally reached\nthe Gulf of California on April 26, 1890. In spite of Stanton\u2019s heroic\nefforts, the railroad was never built, and the Grand Canyon was spared\nthe huffing and puffing of locomotives.\nAs shown in figures 3, 8, and 26, the first major canyon west of the\nWest Entrance of the monument is called Kodels Canyon (pronounced\n\\\u2018k\u014dd^\u01ddls\\). It was named after an early-day stonemason turned\nprospector, a hermit, who came to the Fruita area before 1900 and\nprospected for gold until at least 1930 in the canyon that now bears his\nname. He seemingly built a cabin or house near the mouth of the canyon,\nspent most of the rest of his life in a vain quest for gold in the\ncanyon, barricaded his house against would-be intruders, and took\npotshots at anyone approaching his home for fear they were after his\n\u201cgold.\u201d Some thought him only half crazy, but when he took repeated\nshots at an Indian named Henry Kadig, he was adjudged wholly insane and\nsent to the mental hospital at Pueblo, Colorado, for several years. When\nhe got out he sold the grazing rights in his canyon to the late Irving\nBeard of Fruita, and seemingly was not heard from again. According to\nvarious estimates, Kodel dug an adit between 18 and 150 feet into the\ndark Proterozoic rock in the side of the canyon (shown in fig. 3), then\nsunk a shaft somewhere between 30 and 50 feet deep. He was always \u201con\nthe verge of a big strike,\u201d but there is no record of any actual\nproduction.\nLater, a prospector from the midwest spent several summers digging in\nDevils Canyon, the next major canyon to the west, but he was equally\nunsuccessful. The unsuccessful attempts of Kodel and others is not\nsurprising, for the two canyons are some 100 miles north of the Colorado\nmineral belt\u2014a band extending roughly from Boulder to the western part\nof the San Juan Mountains, in which ore-bearing Upper Cretaceous or\nlower Tertiary rocks were intruded into all overlying rocks of whatever\nage.\nAbout 3 miles west of the Glade Park Store and Post Office are three\nlarge caves in a cliff of the Wingate Sandstone on the north wall of a\ncanyon containing a tributary of Clark\u2019s Wash. The middle cave, which\nformerly contained a small one-room framehouse and other improvements,\nwas occupied for about 40 years prior to 1958 by Mrs. Laura Hazel Miller\n(fig. 5). A large cave just to the west (left) was used for storage, and\nanother large cave just to the east formerly was fenced to shelter\ndomestic animals. Mrs. Miller lived alone most of this time but had a\ndog for companionship the last few years she lived in the cave. When my\nwife and I visited her in the mid-fifties we had a very pleasant\nconversation with this very intelligent woman and could hardly believe\nshe was 87 years old. She could not understand why anyone could live in\ncrowded cities as she much preferred the peace and quiet of her cave.\nOnce a week she walked the 6 miles round trip to and from the Glade Park\nStore and Post Office, bought what few necessities she needed, and\ntelephoned her daughter in Grand Junction. Maybe she had something the\nrest of us have missed! She became sick in her nineties and moved to\nGrand Junction to live with her daughter. After she died, the property\nwas sold, and I have since observed that vandals had burned her one room\nhouse and had destroyed most of the other improvements.\n    [Illustration: CAVE in Wingate Sandstone inhabited by Mrs. Laura\n    Hazel Miller (visible between gate posts) until 1958. One-room house\n    was entirely within cave, and smaller storehouses extended back of\n    the house. Note blackening of cave roof by soot. (Fig. 5)]\nIt may surprise you to learn that several sandstone formations supply\nwater to artesian wells northeast of the Monument in The Redlands,\nOrchard Mesa, and the southwestern side of the Grand Valley, most of\nwhich are 500 to more than 1,000 feet deep. When first drilled and for\nsome years later these wells flowed at the land surface, but eventually\nafter too many wells had been drilled too close together, each well\nreduced the output of neighboring wells until most wells ceased to flow\nnaturally. This made it necessary for most well owners to install pumps,\nwhich further aggravated the problem by reducing the artesian head (the\nheight to which the water rises above the formation from which it\nissues). This created a situation not unlike too many children sucking\non straws in the same ice cream soda, and led to a detailed\ninvestigation by the U.S. Geological Survey and the Colorado Water\nConservation Board,[16] outgrowths of which were the present report and\nits predecessors.\nThe water system of the Ute Conservancy District was virtually completed\nby late 1964 and began to supply water to rural residents of Grand\nValley between the towns of Palisade and Mack through a vast network of\npipelines. The water is obtained from surface sources on the north flank\nof Grand Mesa east of the valley and is brought to the valley via a\npipeline down the valley of Plateau Creek. Use of the new water has\nreduced the draft on many of the artesian wells. The reduced draft has\nlocally arrested the decline in the artesian head or has actually\nallowed some recovery in head.\nIn order of their importance and productivity the water-bearing\nsandstones are the Entrada, the Wingate, and local sandstone lenses in\nthe lower part (Salt Wash Member) of the Morrison Formation (fig. 7). In\na few places small flows or yields are obtained from wells that tap the\nDakota Sandstone and underlying Burro Canyon Formation, but inasmuch as\nthe Dakota contains some marine sandstones from which all the salt\nseemingly has not yet been flushed out, the water from most of these\nwells is brackish or salty.\nAs we will see on the trip \u201cFrom Grand Junction through The Redlands to\nthe West Entrance of the Monument,\u201d pages 88-95, in and near the\nMonument these sandstones look bone dry, so how can they supply water to\nartesian wells? They are indeed dry in all the cliff exposures, but as\nwill be noted later when the bending and breaking of the rocks are\ndiscussed (p. 64-71), erosion has exposed the upturned sandstones so\nthat they may take in water from the many small streams that drain the\nMonument and adjacent areas for short periods after summer\nthundershowers or during spring thaws. The water moves slowly down the\ndipping sandstones and becomes trapped under pressure beneath overlying\nbeds of siltstone or mudstone\u2014materials that are nearly impervious.\nGeologists and geographers have divided the United States into many\nprovinces, each of which has distinctive geologic and topographic\ncharacteristics that set it apart from the others. Colorado National\nMonument is in the northeastern part of the Canyon Lands section of the\nColorado Plateau Province\u2014a province that contains 15 national parks and\nmonuments, about 3 times as many as any other province. This province,\nhereinafter referred to simply as the Colorado Plateau, or the Plateau,\ncovers some 150,000 square miles and extends from Rifle, Colo., at the\nnortheast to a little beyond Flagstaff, Ariz., at the southwest, and\nfrom Cedar City, Utah, at the west nearly to Albuquerque, N. Mex., at\nthe southeast. This scenic province consists of high plateaus generally\nranging in altitude from 4,500 feet to more than 7,000 feet, which are\ndeeply and intricately dissected by literally thousands of canyons.\nColorado National Monument is drained entirely by the Colorado River,\nwhich flows to the northwest in the wide Grand Valley just a few miles\nfrom the northeastern border (fig. 3). The small streams that drain the\nMonument contain water only after summer thundershowers or after rapid\nsnowmelt.\nWhy is the large valley of the Colorado River called the Grand Valley?\nThe Colorado River northeast from its confluence with the Green River in\nthe middle of Canyonlands National Park[17] formerly was called the\nGrand River, and the Green and Grand joined at the confluence to form\nthe Colorado River. The Grand River was renamed Colorado River by act of\nthe Colorado State Legislature approved March 24, 1921, and approved by\nact of Congress July 25, 1921. But the old term still remains in names\nsuch as Grand County, Colo., the headwaters region; Grand Valley, a town\n16 miles west of Rifle, Colo.; Grand Valley between Palisade and Mack,\nColo.; Grand Mesa, an extensive plateau which towers more than a mile\nabove the Grand and Gunnison River Valleys; Grand Junction, Colo., a\ncity appropriately situated at the confluence of the Grand and Gunnison\nRivers; and Grand County, Utah, which the river traverses after entering\nUtah.\n                       The Geologic Story Begins\nColorado National Monument is a land of brightly colored cliff-walled\ncanyons and towering monoliths\u2014a majestic sample of mysterious\ncanyonlands that stretch hundreds of miles to the west and south. Now a\ndesert region more than a mile above the sea, it was not always so. More\nthan a billion years ago the site of the Monument was deep beneath the\nsea. Later, lofty mountains were pushed up only to be obliterated\neventually by the slow but relentless forces of erosion. Millions of\nyears later the earth shook to the stride of 10-ton dinosaurs\u2014then the\nsea returned again and sharks swam over the region looking for food.\nThese are but a few samples of the interesting\u2014even exciting\u2014events in\nthe long geologic history of the Monument. Many pages, indeed several\nwhole chapters, of its history are missing and must be inferred from\nnearby regions where the story is more complete. Thus, the cliffs and\ncanyons you are looking at did not get that way overnight. An\nunderstanding of the geologic processes and events that led to the\nscenic features of today should help you toward a clearer picture and\ngreater appreciation of nature\u2019s handiworks (fig. 6).\nGeologists recognize rocks of three distinctly different modes of\norigin\u2014sedimentary, igneous, and metamorphic, and there are many\nvariations of each type. The sedimentary rocks of the Monument are\ncomposed of clay, silt, sand, and gravel carried and deposited by moving\nwater; silt and fine sand transported by wind; and some limestone,\ncomposed mainly of the mineral calcium carbonate, which was precipitated\nfrom water solutions in freshwater lakes. In areas not far to the\nnortheast and southwest are many sedimentary rocks of marine origin,\nthat is, materials that were deposited in the ocean or shallow inland\nseas, but in the Monument marine sedimentary rocks occur only in parts\nof the Dakota Sandstone; however, the overlying marine Mancos Shale\nunderlies the adjacent Grand Valley and forms the lower slopes of the\nBook Cliffs across the valley (fig. 25).\nIgneous rocks were solidified from liquid molten rock intruded upward\ninto any preexisting rocks along cracks, joints, and faults. Molten rock\nthat reaches the land surface and forms volcanos or lava flows is called\nextrusive igneous rock. Joints are cracks or breaks in rocks along which\nno movement has taken place. Faults are cracks or joints along which one\nside has moved relative to the other. Different types of faults are\nshown in figure 28. Metamorphic rocks were formed from either of the\nother types by great heat and pressure at extreme depths in the Earth\u2019s\ncrust. Metamorphic rocks and some intrusive igneous rocks make up the\nhard, dark rock that floors all the deep canyons in and near the\nMonument. The nearest extrusive igneous rocks are the thick, dark lava\nflows that cap towering Grand Mesa to the east and Battlement Mesa to\nthe northeast.\n    [Illustration: INDEPENDENCE MONUMENT, separating the two entrances\n    of Monument Canyon. Looking north from Grand View; Colorado River,\n    Grand Valley, and Book Cliffs in distance. Roan Cliffs are white\n    cliffs at extreme distance on right skyline. Dark rock flooring\n    canyon is Proterozoic metamorphic rock, red material in slope at\n    base of cliffs is the Chinle Formation, vertical cliffs are Wingate\n    Sandstone, thin protective caprock on top of cliffs is lower\n    sandstone of the resistant Kayenta Formation. The top of\n    Independence Monument is nearly 450 feet above the floor of the\n    canyon. (Fig. 6)]\n    [Illustration: ROCK COLUMN OF COLORADO NATIONAL MONUMENT. 1 foot =\n  AGE (millions of years)\n    GEOLOGIC AGE\n      NAME OF ROCK FORMATION\n        KIND OF ROCK AND HOW IT IS SCULPTURED BY EROSION\n          THICKNESS (feet)\n            NAMED FOR OCCURRENCE AT OR NEAR\n    Late Cretaceous\n      Mancos Shale\n        Gray and black shale, and thin beds of sandstone and limestone.\n              Contains sea shells. Eroded from Monument, but underlies\n              Grand Valley and forms lower part of Book Cliffs.\n            Mancos, Colo.\n      Dakota Sandstone\n        Coaly shale, sandstone, conglomerate, and lignite coal. Contains\n              plant remains. Forms benches and slopes. Caps highest hill\n            Dakota, Nebr.\n    Early Cretaceous\n      Burro Canyon Formation\n        Green siltstone and shale, and sandstone and conglomerate. Forms\n              benches and slopes. Crops out on highest hill in Monument.\n            Burro Canyon San Miguel Co., Colo.\n      EROSIONAL UNCONFORMITY\n    Late Jurassic\n      Morrison Formation\n        Brightly colored siltstone and mudstone, and sandstone and\n              limestone. Contains dinosaur bones and fresh-water shells.\n              Forms slopes and badlands. Lower third with sandstone\n              lenses is Salt Wash Member, upper two thirds is Brushy\n              Basin Member.\n            Morrison, Colo.\n    Middle Jurassic\n      Summerville Formation\n        Brightly colored siltstone and mudstone, and thin sandstones.\n              Forms slopes.\n            Summerville Point San Rafael Swell, Utah\n      Entrada Sandstone\n        White and salmon-red sandstone. Upper level-bedded Moab Member\n              forms stair steps, lower mostly cross-bedded Slick Rock\n              Member forms cliffs.\n            Entrada Point Moab, Utah Slick Rock, Colo.\n    Jurassic and Triassic(?) (missing)\n    EROSIONAL UNCONFORMITY\n    Late Triassic(?)\n      Kayenta Formation\n        Red and purple siltstone and shale, and sandstone and\n              conglomerate. Forms bench between two cliffs and mesas\n              between canyons.\n            Kayenta, Ariz.\n    Late Triassic\n      Wingate Sandstone\n        Buff and light red sandstone. Cross-bedded and level-bedded.\n              Forms highest cliffs and most of named rock features in\n            Fort Wingate, New Mex.\n    Chinle Formation\n      Red siltstone and shale, and some limestone conglomerate. Forms\n            steep slopes at foot of cliffs.\n          Chinle Valley N.E. Ariz.\n    GREAT UNCONFORMITY\n    Triassic, Paleozoic, Younger Proterozoic (missing)\n      Unnamed\n        Schist, gneiss, granite, and pegmatite dikes. Floors main\n              canyons and forms high bluff above The Redlands.\n          Unknown\n    Older Proterozoic\nAfter the materials of the sedimentary rocks were deposited and covered\nby younger layers, they generally became saturated or partly saturated\nwith ground water containing small amounts of dissolved minerals. Some\nof these minerals precipitated from solution and cemented the loose\nparticles into rocks of varying hardness. Thus, most of the sandstones\nare partly cemented with the mineral calcite, composed of calcium\ncarbonate (CaCO\u2083), but some are cemented also with silica (SiO\u2082) or\nhematite (Fe\u2082O\u2083).\nLook almost anywhere in the Monument and you will see that the rocks are\npiled up in layers of different color, thickness, and hardness\u2014much like\na vast layer cake. In most of the Monument, these layers are flat or\nslope gently down to the northeast, but along the northeastern boundary\nthey are sharply bent or broken as though the cake had been carelessly\nplaced over the edge of a table and had sagged.\nLet us consider these layers one by one, beginning with the oldest at\nthe bottom, for each is a partial record of events long past. Layers of\nrock that can be easily recognized and distinguished from other layers\nare called formations and are named after a place where they are well\nexposed. For the name to be accepted for general usage it must be the\nfirst published description in a technical report of a particular\nsequence of rock layers. The places after which the formations of the\nMonument were named are given in the rock column (fig. 7), and the\noutcrops of the formations are shown on the geologic map (fig. 8). In\nthe pages that follow, the geologic events that shaped the Monument we\nsee today are discussed in chronological order, beginning with the\noldest rocks that floor the deep canyons.\n    [Illustration: Petroglyph]\n    [Illustration: GEOLOGIC MAP of Colorado National Monument and\n    vicinity, simplified and greatly reduced from part of maps at scale\n    1:31,680 by Lohman (1963, 1965a). For additional surficial deposits\n    in the Grand Valley and Orchard Mesa see Cashion (1973). (Fig. 8)]\n  EXPLANATION\n    QUATERNARY\n      Qal\u2014ALLUVIUM\n      Qls\u2014LANDSLIDE DEPOSITS\n    CRETACEOUS\n      Km\u2014MANCOS SHALE\n      Kdb\u2014DAKOTA SANDSTONE AND BURRO CANYON FORMATION, UNDIVIDED\n    JURASSIC\n      Jms\u2014MORRISON AND SUMMERVILLE FORMATIONS, UNDIVIDED\n      Je\u2014ENTRADA SANDSTONE\n    TRIASSIC\n      TRk\u2014KAYENTA FORMATION\n      TRwc\u2014WINGATE SANDSTONE AND CHINLE FORMATION, UNDIVIDED\n    PROTEROZOIC\n      PL\u2014SCHIST, GNEISS, GRANITE, AND PEGMATITE\n    CONTACT FAULT\u2014Dashed where approximately located; dotted where\n          concealed. U, upthrown side; D, downthrown side\n    ANTICLINE\n    SYNCLINE\n    CENTRAL AXIS OF SYMMETRICAL MONOCLINE\u2014Showing direction of plunge\n    UPPER BEND OF MONOCLINE\u2014Showing direction of plunge\n    STRIKE AND DIP OF BEDS\n    ABANDONED MINE\n  Geology simplified from Lohman, 1965a\n  _(Showing location of\u2014)_\n    DEVILS CANYON MONOCLINE\n    KODELS CANYON FAULT\n    LIZARD CANYON MONOCLINE\n    FRUITA CANYON MONOCLINE\n    LADDER CREEK FAULT\n                        Ancient Rocks and Events\nThe dark rocks that floor all the large canyons of the Monument (fig. 6)\nand form the high bluffs along the northeastern boundary (figs. 37, 38,\n40, 41) are of early Proterozoic[18] age\u2014among the oldest known rocks of\nthe Earth. Most were once sand and mud that spread out on the bottom of\nthe sea and later hardened into sedimentary rocks (fig. 9-1). After\nthousands of feet of such rocks had accumulated, they were squeezed,\nbent, and lifted up by slow but mighty movements of the Earth\u2019s crust to\nform high mountains perhaps like the Rockies. Heat and pressure that\ndeveloped at great depth in the roots of these mountains changed the\nsediments into metamorphic rocks known as schist (finely banded) and\ngneiss (coarsely banded) (fig. 9-2). The rocks are about 1\u00bd billion\nyears old (fig. 7).\nLater in Proterozoic time, about a billion years ago, molten material\nfrom below was forced upward along cracks or faults and cooled slowly to\nform thin seams or dikes and irregular bodies of granite (fig. 9-3).\nDikes are called pegmatite when they contain large crystals of pink\nfeldspar, white or clear quartz, black tourmaline, and large flakes of\nwhite mica. Small pegmatite dikes that pass through the older schist and\ngneiss may be seen along roadcuts in Fruita and No Thoroughfare Canyons.\n    [Illustration: BLOCK DIAGRAMS OF EARLY PROTEROZOIC EVENTS (after\n    Edwin D. McKee). (Fig. 9)]\n    [Illustration: \u2460 Layers of sand, mud, and other sediment accumulated\n    in the sea and later were hardened into sedimentary rocks.]\n    [Illustration: \u2461 The strata were compressed, bent, and uplifted into\n    high mountains. Heat and pressure at great depth changed the\n    sediments into banded schist and gneiss.]\n    [Illustration: \u2462 Molten rock flowed upward along cracks or faults.\n    Upon cooling it formed lava at the surface and granite or pegmatite\n    beneath.]\n    [Illustration: \u2463 During eons of time the forces of erosion wore down\n    the mountains to a nearly level plain.]\n                     A Great Gap in the Rock Record\nIf you look down into any of the large canyons in the Monument, you will\nnotice a brick-red formation, the Chinle, which forms steep slopes at\nthe foot of the high cliffs and lies upon the dark Proterozoic rocks\nalong nearly straight lines of contact. Such a straight-line contact is\nparticularly well shown about midway up the high bluffs along the\nnortheastern boundary of the Monument (fig. 37). If the red layer and\nall overlying rocks were stripped away, these straight lines would be\nthe exposed edges of a remarkably smooth, nearly flat erosion surface on\nthe top of the dark Proterozoic rocks, as shown in the last diagram of\nfigure 9. A vast amount of time passed between the carving of this\nsurface and the deposition of the red Chinle, and no record of the\nevents during this time is preserved in the Monument.\nDuring the latter part of the Proterozoic Eon and parts of the long\nPaleozoic Era that followed, the dark rocks were submerged beneath the\nsea several times and received sediments now found in areas to the\nnortheast and southwest. Beginning in the Pennsylvanian Period some 330\nmillion years ago (fig. 61), a large upfold of the rocks, or anticline\n(fig. 27), known to geologists as the Uncompahgre Highland, rose high\nabove sea level, probably reaching its highest level in Late\nPennsylvanian or Permian time. This old highland formed an imposing\nchain of mountains in about the position of the present Uncompahgre\nPlateau.\nAfter the old rocks were pushed up into these high mountains what became\nof them? From the moment the mountains began to rise, their rocks were\nbuffeted by wind, pounded by rain, pried open by frost, scoured by\ndebris-laden streams and, perhaps by glaciers, and the loosened rock\nparticles were dissolved or carried to the sea. Most rocks are brittle\nenough to crack when bent by Earth forces. Such cracks, called joints,\nare easy targets for erosion. The freezing of water in joints tends to\npry the rocks apart. The breakup of the rocks was hastened by the\nchemical attack on rock minerals by water charged with oxygen and carbon\ndioxide. When land plants became established in later geologic eras,\nsoil acids formed from decaying vegetation also assisted materially in\nbreaking up the rocks.\nThese same erosion processes are going on today, but their effects are\nscarcely noticeable from year to year except in soft earth after storms\nor floods. During eons of time, however, the mountains were again worn\ndown to a nearly level plain. Missing between the red Chinle and the\ndark rocks are many thousands of feet of rocks, some of which once\ncovered this surface and still occur in other regions less affected by\nerosion. This gap in the rock record, which represents more than a\nbillion years, is known to geologists as a great unconformity. Missing\nare part of the lower Proterozoic rocks, all the upper Proterozoic\nrocks, all those of the Paleozoic Era, and part of those of the Triassic\nPeriod of the Mesozoic Era. (See figs. 7 and 61.)\nTraces of primitive life have been found in some Proterozoic rocks in\nthe form of lime-secreting algae and casts of worms, but no fossils of\nmore advanced types have been found because at that time the primitive\nanimals seemingly had not yet developed shells or skeletons. The ensuing\nPaleozoic Era saw the appearance and great development of shellfish,\nfish, amphibians, reptiles, and primitive plants. Some of the rock\nlayers of ages missing at the Monument may be seen as near as Glenwood\nSprings to the northeast and Gateway to the southwest.\nAll the layers of sedimentary rocks preserved in the Monument above the\ndark Proterozoic ones were deposited by wind and water during the\nMesozoic Era. This long era has been called the age of reptiles, for\nreptiles, including dinosaurs (meaning terrible lizards), were then the\ndominant land animals. The Mesozoic Era has been divided into three\nparts\u2014the Triassic, Jurassic, and Cretaceous Periods. Rocks of each of\nthese periods crop out in the Monument.\nBy late Triassic time the Monument was part of a nearly flat plain cut\non the dark Proterozoic rocks, but there were hills or low mountains to\nthe northeast. Streams from these hills dropped mud, silt, sand, and\nsome gravel on this plain and into many small lakes that occupied the\ngentle depressions. Later, these deposits hardened mainly into red\nsiltstone and sandstone, but thin beds of gravel were cemented to form\nconglomerate, and thin beds of limestone formed in some of the shallow\nlakes by the precipitation of the mineral calcium carbonate. These\nrocks, which comprise the Chinle (pronounced Chin-lee) Formation, are\nonly 80 to 100 feet thick in the Monument but are as much as 700 feet\nthick near Moab, Utah, southwest of the Uncompahgre Plateau, where the\nentire formation is present. There, the Chinle rests on still older\nTriassic and Paleozoic rocks\u2014all absent in the Monument for the reasons\nnoted previously. In some parts of the Plateau, sandstone or\nconglomerate beds in the lower part of the Chinle yield uranium ore, but\nthese beds were not deposited in or near the Monument.\nThe red color of the Chinle and some of the overlying rocks is caused by\nminute amounts of iron oxide\u2014the same pigment used in rouge and red barn\npaint. Various oxides of iron, some including water, produce not only\nbrick red but also pink, salmon, brown, buff, yellow, and even green or\nbluish green. This does not imply that the rocks could be considered as\nsources of iron ore, for the merest trace of iron, generally only 1 to 3\npercent, is enough to produce even the darkest shades of red.\nBecause it is soft, the Chinle is easily eroded into steep slopes at the\nfoot of high sandstone cliffs in all canyons of the Monument and on top\nof the high bluffs that face The Redlands. It also forms the broad base\nof Independence Monument. Rim Rock Drive crosses the Chinle three times\nin the lower part of Fruita Canyon and twice in No Thoroughfare Canyon.\nFossil reptile bones, petrified wood, and freshwater shells come from\nthe Chinle in parts of Arizona and Utah. Reptiles probably roamed the\nMonument in Chinle time, but their remains have not been located.\nStill later in the Triassic Period the Monument became part of a vast\ndesert. Winds blowing from the northwest brought great quantities of\nfine sand and piled them up into large dunes like those in the Sahara or\nin Great Sand Dunes National Monument in Colorado. But like all deserts,\nit was not always dry\u2014occasional rainstorms produced many small lakes\nand ponds. Some of the sand was washed into these lakes or ponds and\nsettled in level layers. This huge sandpile eventually hardened into the\nbuff and light-red sandstone that we now know as the Wingate. The shapes\nof the old dunes are indicated by the steep dips of sand layers, called\ncrossbeds, which stand out in sharp contrast to the nearly level layers\nformed in the lakes and ponds (fig. 10).\nThe spectacular scenery of Colorado National Monument owes its existence\nlargely to the 350-foot cliffs of the Wingate Sandstone (fig. 6) and to\nthe desert climate, which allows us to see virtually every foot of the\nvividly colored rocks and has made possible the creation and\npreservation of such a wide variety of fantastic sculptures. A wetter\nclimate would have produced a far different and smoother landscape in\nwhich most of the rocks and land forms would have been hidden by\nvegetation.\nEroded remnants of the Wingate form most of the named rock features of\nthe Monument and are shown in many of the photographs. Independence\nMonument\u2014a towering slab of sandstone that resembles a bridge pier (fig.\n6)\u2014is all that is left of a high narrow wall that once connected the\npoint east of Independence View with the high mesa north of the slab and\nwhich once separated the two entrances of Monument Canyon. In a few\nthousand years this remnant, too, may be gone.\nVertical cliffs and shafts of the Wingate Sandstone endure only where\nthe top of the formation is capped by beds of the next younger rock\nunit\u2014the Kayenta Formation. The Kayenta is much more resistant to\nerosion than the Wingate, so even a few feet of the Kayenta, such as the\ncap on top of Independence Monument, protect the rock beneath. Once this\ncap has been eroded away, the underlying Wingate weathers into rounded\ndomes, such as the Coke Ovens.\nCold Shivers Point (fig. 53)\u2014a toadstool shaped cap of sandstone of the\nKayenta above a vertical cliff of the Wingate\u2014is perhaps the most aptly\ntitled feature of the Monument.\n    [Illustration: PETRIFIED SAND DUNES in Wingate Sandstone along old\n    Serpents Trail. Looking north across The Redlands and Grand Valley\n    to the Book Cliffs. Battlement Mesa on right skyline. (Fig. 10)]\nThe Coke Ovens (fig. 11) and Squaw Fingers were formed partly because\nmost of the caprock of Kayenta has been weathered away and also because\nthe brittle rocks were cracked along an evenly spaced set of vertical\njoints. These joints trend northward between the two named features.\nMore rapid weathering along these joints helped form the separate\nrounded domes or spires between them. Similarly, northwestward-trending\nvertical joints connect and helped shape Kissing Couple, Pipe Organ, and\nSentinal Spire.\n    [Illustration: THE COKE OVENS, looking north from overlook beneath\n    Artists Point. A set of north-south joints has allowed erosion of\n    the Wingate Sandstone to proceed more rapidly along these zones of\n    weakness and has helped create the four ovens shown. Weathering away\n    of the protective caprock of the overlying Kayenta Formation has\n    produced rounded tops on all but the left-hand shaft, which is still\n    protected by the Kayenta. Note alcoves and arches in cliff of the\n    Wingate beyond, the formation of the one on the right having been\n    aided by removal of the underlying soft Chinle Formation. Bench\n    covered by pi\u00f1on and juniper above Wingate is resistant thin-bedded\n    Kayenta Formation. Cliff above the bench is the Slick Rock Member of\n    the Entrada Sandstone. The Coke Ovens were named from their\n    resemblance to the beehive-shaped brick ovens formerly used to\n    convert bituminous coal into coke for smelting iron. (Fig. 11)]\nMany of the cliff walls of the Wingate are vertical, some even overhang,\nyet in some places the slopes are gentle enough to hold talus and to be\nclimbed (fig. 12). Why is this? The answer to this question is given in\na later section on \u201cCanyon Cutting.\u201d\nArches or shallow caves weathered out of some cliff faces of the\nWingate, particularly where the underlying Chinle Formation has been\npartly scoured away. Although there are no large caves within the\nMonument, there are three in a row along the road 3 miles west of the\nGlade Park Post Office. One of these was inhabited until 1958 (fig. 5).\nMany of the cliff faces of the Wingate are darkened or blackened by\ndesert varnish\u2014a natural pigment of iron and manganese oxides, silica,\nand clay.[19]\nDinosaurs left their footprints in the sands of the Wingate in parts of\nthe Colorado Plateau, but no tracks or fossils have yet been found in\nthis formation in or near the Monument.\nThe arid climate of Wingate time was followed by a wet period, when\nstreams from the northeast gradually covered the sand dunes with mud,\nsand, and some gravel. The sand and gravel of the stream channels were\ncemented into hard sandstone and conglomerate, and the mud of the flood\nplains hardened into red and purple siltstone and mudstone. The\nresulting Kayenta Formation makes up the bench between the two cliffs\nupon which the Visitor Center, campgrounds, and most of scenic Rim Rock\nDrive were built. Here, nature was kind, for this gently sloping bench\nwas an ideal place to build the road from which to look down into the\ndeep chasms. The Kayenta also caps the broad mesas between the canyons.\nIt is about 350 feet thick in eastern Utah, only 45 to 80 feet thick in\nthe Monument, and it is absent altogether not far east of the Monument.\nThe reasons for the eastward thinning and ultimate disappearance of the\nKayenta and some younger rocks are given in the next section.\n    [Illustration: RED CANYON, looking northeast toward Grand Junction\n    from Red Canyon Overlook. Dark notch at the bottom of the northeast\n    end of the canyon is known as the Gunsight. Linear feature in the\n    Grand Valley beyond is the Denver and Rio Grande Western Railroad.\n    Prominent point near middle of Book Cliffs is Mount Garfield (Fig.\n    25). Battlement and Grand Mesas form left and right skylines,\n    respectively. Dark green bush in right foreground is Mormon Tea.\n    [Illustration: THIN BEDDED KAYENTA FORMATION protecting underlying\n    cliff of softer Wingate Sandstone. Rim Rock Drive is on bench of the\n    Kayenta close to thinner cliff of Entrada Sandstone in background.\n    Looking northwest from a point northeast of Monument Canyon View.\nAs noted earlier, the sandstone beds and lenses of the Kayenta generally\nare coarser grained (some even contain small pebbles) and much harder\nthan the underlying Wingate Sandstone\u2014particularly the lower beds of the\nKayenta, which serve as a protective capping, as shown in figure 13 and\nin many of the other photographs. Unlike the dominantly fine grained,\nwell sorted, windblown sands of the Wingate, the coarser stream-laid\nsands of the Kayenta are angular and poorly sorted, so that small grains\nfill spaces between larger ones. Moreover, in addition to the calcite\ncement (which also holds together the sand grains in the Wingate and\nEntrada Sandstones), most of the sand grains and pebbles in the Kayenta\nare covered by interconnected \u201covergrowths\u201d of silica (SiO\u2082), which make\nup about 10 percent of the rocks and serve as a nearly insoluble hard\ncement.[20]\nThe combination of the coarse and fine grains and interlocking silica\n\u201covergrowths\u201d makes the Kayenta one of the most resistant rocks in the\nColorado Plateau.\nIn distant views of weathered outcrops the Kayenta appears to consist\nmainly of thin beds or lenses of sandstone, which indeed it does, but in\nsome fresh exposures, such as roadcuts, the highly lenticular red\nflood-plain deposits form striking features which may wedge out from 3\nor 4 feet thick to a featheredge within horizontal distances of only a\nfew feet (fig. 14).\nThe Kayenta has yielded fossil bones of dinosaurs and other reptiles in\nnortheastern Arizona and freshwater shells in eastern Utah. As yet,\nhowever, no fossils have been reported from it in or near the Monument.\n                     Another Gap in the Rock Record\nFollowing the wet interval when the Kayenta Formation was deposited over\nwide areas of the Colorado Plateau by streams, the Plateau once again\nbecame a vast desert, and this time the dry climate persisted from the\nLate Triassic into the Jurassic. The howling winds piled up enormous\nsand dunes, layer upon layer, to a total thickness of more than 2,200\nfeet at Zion National Park, and as much as 500 feet remains in eastern\nUtah and parts of southwestern Colorado. This immense sandpile\neventually was cemented by calcite into the Navajo Sandstone.\n    [Illustration: KAYENTA FORMATION, showing lenses of hard channel\n    sandstones and wedge of red siltstone and mudstone. Along road cut\n    of Rim Rock Drive near head of main stem of Ute Canyon. Vertical\n    grooves remain from drill holes used in blasting roadcut. (Fig. 14)]\nBeautifully sculptured remains of the Navajo are featured attractions at\nZion, Capitol Reef, and Arches National Parks, Rainbow Bridge, Navajo,\nand Dinosaur National Monuments; border many miles of beautiful Lake\nPowell; and form the eastern flank of the San Rafael Swell. For reasons\nto be explained, this sandstone thins to the northeast, and is absent\nentirely at about the Utah-Colorado State line, some 35 miles southwest\nof the Monument. Thus, in the Monument, the Navajo, most of the Kayenta,\nand the lower part of the Entrada Sandstone are missing at another gap\nin the rock record, as shown in figure 15.\n    [Illustration: GAP IN THE ROCK RECORD, between Kayenta Formation\n    below 3\u00bd- \u00d7 6-inch green notebook and Slick Rock Member of Entrada\n    Sandstone above. The reasons for this gap are given in the text on\n    page 38. That this is an erosional unconformity is clearly indicated\n    by the uneven top of the Kayenta, particularly to the left of the\n    notebook. Note solution pits and openings in the Entrada near top of\n    photograph. (Fig. 15)]\nHow is it possible that the Navajo Sandstone is more than 2,200 feet\nthick in Zion National Park, is several hundred feet thick in much of\nthe Plateau in Utah and parts of southwestern Colorado, yet is absent\nentirely, together with a considerable thickness of younger rocks in and\nnear Colorado National Monument? How much of the missing strata once\nwere present in the Monument is not known, but it seems clear that at\nleast part was present but was eroded away before the Entrada Sandstone\nwas deposited. There is evidence[21] that following the deposition and\nconsolidation of the Navajo Sandstone the Plateau and adjacent areas\nwere uplifted, tilted gently westward, and eroded for a considerable\nperiod of time. Erosion naturally was most pronounced in the eastern\nareas, including the Monument, where the uplift was greatest. Thus, in\nthe northeastern part of the Plateau all the Navajo and most of the\nKayenta were eroded away, and erosion continued there while the lowest\nmember of the Entrada, the Dewey Bridge Member, and the lower part of\nthe overlying Slick Rock Member were being laid down in the Moab, Utah,\narea.[22] This old erosion surface is clearly visible in many places\nalong the cliff wall on the southwest side of Rim Rock Drive between the\nVisitor Center and Kissing Couple.\nThe reduction in thickness of the Navajo Sandstone from southwest to\nnortheast and absence of the Navajo and some younger rocks in and near\nthe Monument are shown on an isometric (three dimensional) block diagram\nprepared by artist John R. Stacy and me, which is displayed in the\nMuseum of the Visitor Center. This block diagram portrays the surface\nand subsurface rocks from Zion National Park, Utah, to Black Canyon of\nthe Gunnison National Monument, Colo., via Capitol Reef National Park,\nthe Henry Mountains, and Colorado National Monument. Throughout the\nPlateau and parts of adjacent areas, the erosion surface on top of the\nNavajo Sandstone is covered by scattered pebbles of chert\u2014a hard variety\nof silica (SiO\u2082) derived from cherty beds of freshwater limestone in the\nNavajo.[23] Where the Navajo has been completely eroded away and the\nancient erosion surface is on the Kayenta Formation, as in Colorado\nNational Monument, scattered pebbles (some of which are chert) derived\nfrom the conglomerate lenses in the Kayenta are found locally on the old\nsurface.[24]\nBecause of this gap in the rock record we will continue part of our\nstory farther west, where the rock record is more nearly complete.\nIn Middle Jurassic time the land now called central Utah, which then was\nthe eroded surface of the Navajo Sandstone, sank beneath an arm of a\nshallow sea that came in from the north, and most of the area remained\nbeneath this sea until Late Jurassic time. Sediment carried into this\nsea and into bordering lagoons and estuaries later hardened into the\nsedimentary rocks of the Carmel Formation, Entrada Sandstone, and Curtis\nand Summerville Formations. The Carmel and Curtis contain abundant\nmarine fossils of Middle Jurassic age, and in central Utah the\nintervening unfossiliferous Entrada also is believed to have been\ndeposited in or near the sea, and the unfossiliferous Summerville\nFormation probably was deposited upon a tidal flat that was submerged\npart of the time.\n                  Deposits and Events East of the Sea\nIn eastern Utah, east of the ancient Jurassic sea, the Entrada Sandstone\nis entirely unfossiliferous, was partly water laid and partly wind\nblown, and has been divided into three distinctive parts, which in\nascending order are the Dewey Bridge, Slick Rock, and Moab Members.[25]\nIn and near the Colorado National Monument, the long period of erosion\ndiscussed in a preceding section probably continued well into the\nJurassic, so only the upper part of the Slick Rock Member and the\noverlying Moab Member were deposited on the eroded surface of what\nlittle remained of the Kayenta Formation (fig. 14).\nThe Slick Rock Member was named from its occurrence at and near the\nmining town of Slick Rock, Colo., which originally was named after the\nappearance of the rock because it generally forms slick, smooth cliffs.\nIt reminds one of the chicken and egg conundrum. The Slick Rock is\ncomposed mainly of sand dunes that were piled up on the eastern shore of\nthe Jurassic sea by winds blowing from the northeast. Occasional rainy\nspells created lakes and ponds in which some of the sand was laid down\nin level beds. This pile of sand later hardened into the cliff-forming\nSlick Rock Member, which looks something like the Wingate but is\ngenerally only half as thick, weathers into less abrupt cliffs, is\nmostly salmon red, and is almost free of joints. The joints in the\nWingate (fig. 11) probably resulted from the uplift and tilting of the\nPlateau before the long period of pre-Entrada erosion; whereas the land\nseems to have been more stable during Entrada time. The Slick Rock is\ncemented with calcium carbonate (CaCO\u2083), which is soluble even in weak\nacid, such as rain or snow water containing dissolved carbon dioxide.\nFor this reason solution openings or pits occur in some of the cliff\nfaces, the most striking of which are those shown near the top of figure\nThe Slick Rock Member of the Entrada Sandstone forms a line of cliffs\nand isolated monoliths that are second in height and grandeur only to\nthose of the Wingate. The Member is best displayed southwest of Rim Rock\nDrive between the Visitor Center and the Coke Ovens and along the\nwestern arm of Ute Canyon (fig. 16). It also forms the Saddlehorn just\nsouth of the camp and picnic grounds near the Visitor Center (fig. 50).\nMost of the smooth cliff faces show both the steeply dipping crossbeds\nof the old sand dunes and the flat-lying beds of the lake or pond\ndeposits.\n    [Illustration: ENTRADA SANDSTONE, just above normally dry waterfall\n    in west arm of Ute Canyon. Note smooth unjointed cliff of Slick Rock\n    Member protected at left by overhanging basal bed of Moab Member,\n    which forms about lower half of slope in distance. Upper part of\n    distant slope is the Summerville Formation overlain by Salt Wash\n    Member of the Morrison Formation. Note Slick Rock at left resting\n    upon eroded crossbedded sandstone in Kayenta Formation, in which the\n    canyon was cut. (Fig. 16)]\nThe overlying Moab Member of the Entrada is a white level-bedded\nsandstone that generally weathers into stairsteps or ledges. One of the\nbest exposures of the Moab Member is shown in figure 17, but good\nexposures also are seen along the west side of Rim Rock Drive just\nnortheast of the Coke Ovens Overlook. In some places the Moab Member\nforms cliffs continuous with those of the underlying Slick Rock Member.\nIt appears to consist of hardened beach or lagoon sand that was\ndeposited along the eastern shore of the sea, which suggests that the\nsea extended farther east during Moab and Summerville times than it did\nduring Dewey Bridge and Slick Rock times. Like the Slick Rock, the Moab\nalso is cemented by calcium carbonate, but the lower sandstone ledges of\nthe Moab Member are more resistant to erosion than the Slick Rock\nMember, so the Moab helps preserve the underlying cliffs. The top of the\nMoab Member forms patches of bare pavement east of the Monument, known\nas the \u201cSlick Rim,\u201d which may be observed from the Little Park Road.\n    [Illustration: MOAB MEMBER OF ENTRADA SANDSTONE, showing typical\n    steplike weathering. In west arm of Ute Canyon about a quarter mile\n    above the view shown in figure 16. Moab Member caps and protects\n    overhang of Slick Rock Member. Moab is overlain by unexposed slope\n    of Summerville Formation and lower part of Morrison Formation. (Fig.\nAlthough the Slick Rock Member normally is salmon colored or pink, the\nupper half of an outcrop just north of the highest point on Rim Rock\nDrive at the head of main Ute Canyon has a distinctly mottled\nappearance, wherein much of the color has been leached to white, but\nirregular splotches of color appear in the dominantly white upper part,\nand white splotches appear in the colored part, as shown in figure 18.\nBy way of contrast, in an outcrop of the two members of the Entrada\nabout 2 miles north of the Glade Park Store and Post Office (fig. 19),\nthe entire Slick Rock Member is as white as the Moab Member, and the\nformer is white for some distance to the east. Why is the salmon color\nentirely missing from the Slick Rock near Glade Park, partly missing in\nfigure 18, but present virtually everywhere else in and near the\nMonument? The answers to this seeming mystery involve events that\noccurred long ago, so only the high points will be touched upon here.\n    [Illustration: MOTTLED SALMON-AND-WHITE SLICK ROCK MEMBER, overlain\n    by white level-bedded Moab Member, on west side of Rim Rock Drive\n    about four-tenths of a mile north of head of main Ute Canyon. (Fig.\nIt seems reasonable to suppose that the Slick Rock Member at both\nlocalities originally was salmon colored or pink, as it is everywhere\nelse, but that later, the coloring agent, red ferric iron oxide (Fe\u2082O\u2083),\nwas chemically reduced, or leached to ferrous iron oxide (FeO), by\nacidic ground water, and was carried away to the northeast by the slowly\nmoving ground water. But as I have already pointed out, the cliff\nexposures of the sandstones are now bone dry, so what happened to the\nground water and why was it acidic here and not elsewhere?\n    [Illustration: WHITE ENTRADA SANDSTONE, in outcrop just east of\n    gravel road about 2 miles north of Glade Park Store and Post Office.\n    Reasons for absence of salmon color in Slick Rock Member are given\nBefore the cutting of the deep canyons of the Monument, which followed\nthe last major uplifts of the region accompanied by bending and breaking\nof the rocks, the now dry sandstones were saturated with ground water\nthat moved very slowly northeastward. Somewhere to the southwest the\nEntrada Sandstone seemingly took in water containing dissolved hydrogen\nsulfide gas (H\u2082S), changing the ground water to a weak acid. The H\u2082S\ncould have been produced by a type of anaerobic bacteria that has the\nability to reduce dissolved sulfates (SO\u2084\u207b\u00b2) in water to the dissolved\nhydrogen sulfide gas, thereby obtaining needed oxygen.\nThe next questions you might logically ask are (1) if the above\ndeductions have any merit, how do we know the acid water was caused by\ndissolved hydrogen sulfide,[26] (2) what is the source of the sulfate\nions (SO\u2084\u207b\u00b2) from which the H\u2082S was obtained, and (3) why is the color\nof the Slick Rock Member in figure 19 completely reduced to white\nwhereas that in figure 18 is only partly reduced in the upper part?\nAlthough the ground waters from artesian wells in the Grand Junction\narea contain small amounts of sulfate as do most ground waters, the\namount needed for the results observed more likely came from solution of\nthe common mineral gypsum (calcium sulfate containing some water,\nCaSO\u2084\u00b72H\u2082O). The overlying Summerville and Morrison Formations contain\nsome gypsum in many places in Utah, so it is not improbable that these\nformations contain gypsum locally in Colorado. If so, sulfate-bearing\nwater could have percolated downward into the Entrada at some point\nsouthwest of Glade Park. But as this must have happened several million\nyears ago, the clues as to just where this occurred have grown quite\ncold.\nSeemingly, the color in the Slick Rock Member near and east of Glade\nPark was entirely removed by the process described, but the very slow\nmoving ground water had time to leach only the upper part of the Slick\nRock (the most permeable part) in Ute Canyon before the process was\nhalted forever by the draining of water from these beds by canyon\ncutting.\nShortly before the Jurassic sea to the west dried up, silt, mud, and\nsome sand were carried into either a shallow arm of the sea or a broad\nbay or lagoon near it, and later the silt, mud, and sand hardened to\nbecome the Summerville Formation. The Summerville is only 40 to 60 feet\nthick in the Monument but is much thicker in Utah.\nThe Summerville Formation is so soft that it weathers very rapidly and\nhence is exposed at only a few places. It is best displayed in the high\nroadcut at Artists Point and along the road to the south for the next\nmile (fig. 20), but it is also exposed in roadcuts along the west arm of\nUte Canyon. Even the thinnest beds of the Summerville can be traced for\nhundreds of yards, and individual beds have a nearly constant thickness\nfor such distances. This greatly facilitated the detailed measurement of\na section of the Summerville[27] by my son Bill and me from Artists\nPoint to the base of the overlying Morrison Formation about a mile\nsouth. Using a 6-foot folding steel rule we measured and described each\nthin bed from some key bed at about ground level to one at eye level,\nfollowed the upper key bed southward to ground level, then repeated the\nprocess until the entire 54 feet had been measured and described.\n    [Illustration: SUMMERVILLE FORMATION, at Artists Point (fig. 3).\n    Base of formation rests upon Moab Member of Entrada just beneath the\n    pavement. Note geologist\u2019s pick resting upon lower ledge of\n    sandstone just to the left of middle. Top of the Summerville here\n    has been removed by erosion. (Fig. 20)]\nThe Summerville at the type locality in the San Rafael Swell, Utah, is\nmuch thicker than in the Monument and contains many chocolate-brown\nbeds; but the Summerville exhibits the same lateral continuity of even\nthe thinnest beds. Thin sedimentary beds of such uniform thickness are\nthought to have accumulated in relatively quiet bodies of water. If you\nlook at the undersides of some of the blocks of hard light-gray\nsandstone that have broken off, you may see corrugations like those on\nsome metal barn roofs. These are ripplemarks produced by wave or current\naction while the sand was still loose, which indicates that the water\nwas not always entirely quiet. Although much of the Summerville is red,\nyou will see beds of many other colors including gray, blue gray,\ngreenish gray, chocolate brown, and reddish brown.\n                      Dinosaurs Roam the Monument\nIn Late Jurassic time the sea to the west eventually dried up, either\nbecause it was filled with sediments or because the land rose above sea\nlevel, or both. This brought about a change from the parallel bedding in\nthe marginal marine environment of the Summerville to irregular\nstream-channel sandstones, flood-plain silts and muds, and freshwater\nlake deposits.\nStreams from higher lands to the south brought in mud, silt, and sand\nthat piled up hundreds of feet thick over thousands of square miles,\nincluding the Monument. These sediments were later compacted into the\nbrightly colored siltstone, mudstone, sandstone, and limestone now known\nas the Morrison Formation. The colors are about the same as those of the\nSummerville. Algae and other microscopic organisms extracted calcium\ncarbonate from the lake waters, and when they died this material settled\non the lake bottoms to make limestone.\nThe soft siltstone and mudstone of the Morrison Formation weather\nrapidly into steep or fairly steep slopes, but the harder beds of\nsandstone, most of which are in the lower third of the formation, known\nas the Salt Wash Member, are sculptured into bold ledges or low cliffs.\nThe generally softer upper two-thirds of the formation is called the\nBrushy Basin Member. The Morrison is best exposed in and southeast of\nThe Redlands, where the bare rocks are carved into badlands like the\nfamous ones of South Dakota. Both the Fruita Canyon and No Thoroughfare\nCanyon approaches to the Monument pass typical badlands in the Morrison.\nThe entire 600 feet of this formation is best seen in the high bluff on\nthe east side of the mouth of No Thoroughfare Canyon (fig. 21).\n    [Illustration: MORRISON FORMATION, on east side of mouth of No\n    Thoroughfare Canyon. Forty feet of Summerville Formation at base is\n    concealed by slope wash, but underlying white- and salmon-colored\n    members of Entrada Sandstone are clearly exposed at lower left.\n    Protective caprock at upper right is lowermost sandstone of\n    Cretaceous Burro Canyon Formation. Upper two-thirds of Morrison is\n    typical of the Brushy Basin Member; lower one-third is not typical\n    of the Salt Wash Member, which generally contains more and thicker\n    lenses of sandstone, some of which are just around the corner to the\n    right. Mesa on left skyline is above Serpents Trail in the Monument.\n    Looking west from Little Park Road. See also figures 55 and 60.\nIn parts of the Colorado Plateau southwest of the Uncompahgre Plateau,\nthe sandstone lenses in the Salt Wash Member of the Morrison contain\nuranium and vanadium ore associated with carbonaceous matter, including\ncoalified wood. No ores have been found in or near the Monument\npresumably because such carbonaceous matter, which helped precipitate\nthe ores, is lacking on the northeastern side of the Uncompahgre\nPlateau.\nSome of the beds of siltstone and mudstone in the Brushy Basin Member of\nthe Morrison shown in figure 21 contain bentonite, a clay derived from\nthe decomposition of volcanic ash, which indicates the presence of\nactive volcanos in or near the Plateau at the time these beds were\ndeposited. Bentonite swells when wetted, so it is widely used in\nwell-drilling muds, sealing canals, etc. Some bentonitic material has\nbeen dug from the Brushy Basin along the Little Park Road just south of\nthe point from which the photograph in figure 21 was taken and was used\nfor sealing irrigation canals in the Grand Valley.\nThe Morrison is not well exposed in the Monument, as the formation is\nrestricted to the higher parts where most of it is hidden by vegetation.\nThe lower part is seen in roadcuts and outcropping ledges along a high\nstretch of Rim Rock Drive between Artists Point and the head of the west\narm of Ute Canyon, where sandstone lenses in the Salt Wash Member are\nespecially thick.\nThe climate during Morrison time was wet enough to support abundant\nvegetation along the many lakes and streams\u2014at least enough to feed the\nhungry dinosaurs and other reptiles that roamed the area. Many bones and\nparts of several skeletons of dinosaurs have been found in the Morrison\nat several places in The Redlands not far northeast and northwest of the\nMonument.\nThe most famous dinosaur locality near the Monument is Riggs Hill where,\nin 1900, the late Elmer S. Riggs of the Field Columbian Museum (now\nField Museum of Natural History) dug out part of the first known\nskeleton of a huge _Brachiosaurus_ (fig. 22). This discovery made quite\na splash in the scientific world, for it was the first and only type of\ndinosaur found whose front legs were longer than its hind legs. The\nfossilized thigh bone (femur) alone is 6 feet 8 inches long and weighs\n549 pounds; the arm bone (humerus), though incomplete, is even longer.\nThe ribs are 9 feet long. A bronze plaque now marks the site of the\nexcavation (fig. 39).\nIn 1901, Riggs removed all but the forepart of a skeleton of\n_Apatosaurus_ from the southeast side of a large hill of the Morrison\nFormation just south of the old Fruita bridge. Riggs also found remains\nof _Diplodocus_, _Camarasaurus_, and _Morosaurus_, and, in 1937, Al\nLook, prominent writer and amateur paleontologist of Grand Junction, and\nEdwin L. Holt, an instructor in Mesa College at Grand Junction, found\nthe closely associated remains of _Allosaurus_, _Stegosaurus_, and\n_Brachiosaurus_ at the western end of Riggs Hill. Dinosaurs generally\nare thought of as huge creatures\u2014many were huge indeed (fig. 23)\u2014but\nthey came in various sizes and some were quite small.\nAn interesting Late Jurassic vertebrate fossil locality in the Salt Wash\nMember of the Morrison Formation, about 3 miles northwest of the West\nEntrance of the Monument and about 3 miles southwest of Fruita, was\ndiscovered in June 1975 by George Callison, Associate Professor of\nBiology and Research Associate in Vertebrate Paleontology at the\nCalifornia State University at Long Beach. During the summers of 1975\nand 1976 Dr. Callison and his assistants removed the closely associated\nskeletal remains of many small, primitive mammals and both small and\nlarge dinosaurs and other reptiles. Part of the results were presented\nin an unpublished manuscript.[28] During the summer of 1977 and later,\nadditional mammalian fossils were removed by Callison and assistants and\nadditional reptilian fossils were removed by Lance Erickson,\npaleontologist of the Historical Museum and Institute of Western\nColorado (fig. 2). Hopefully, the work will be continued with the aid of\ngrants from several sources.\n    [Illustration: EXCAVATING TYPE SPECIMEN OF _BRACHIOSAURUS\n    ALTITHORAX_ RIGGS from south side of Riggs Hill. Photograph taken in\n    1900, reproduced by permission of the Field Museum of Natural\n    History (Chicago). See also figure 39. (Fig. 22)]\nThe locality, which covers parts of about 180 acres of public land\nadministered by the Bureau of Land Management, has been fenced and\nposted to discourage vandalism, and has been designated the Fruita\nPaleontological Area.\nIn order to evaluate the importance of the locality and to make plans\nfor its future development and protection, the Bureau of Land Management\nheld the Fruita Paleontological Workshop on March 28-30, 1977, to which\nwere invited several renowned vertebrate paleontologists and\narchaeologists together with interested local personnel of the Bureau,\nthe National Park Service, and the Museum. All remarks and prepared\nspeeches were taken down by a shorthand reporter and were reproduced for\nthe attendees in the 83 page unpublished \u201cThe Fruita Paleontological\nReport.\u201d\n    [Illustration: SKELETONS OF TYPICAL DINOSAURS OF MORRISON\n    FORMATION.[29] _A_, _Camptosaurus_, a small dinosaur about 11 feet\n    long; _B_, _Apatosaurus_, a gigantic dinosaur about 76 feet long;\n    _C_, _Allosaurus_, a large carnivorous dinosaur about 30 feet long;\n    and _D_, _Stegosaurus_, a large armored dinosaur about 24 feet long.\nThe close association of Late Jurassic mammalian and reptilian fossils,\nas found at the Fruita site, is of considerable interest and importance,\nbut is by no means unique, for similar associations occur elsewhere in\nColorado, and in Wyoming, Europe, and Africa. Of those in the United\nStates, the quarry at Como Bluff, near Laramie, Wyo., is considered by\nmost of the experts to be the most outstanding. Of the material\nunearthed at Fruita thus far, which includes bones of some of the large\ndinosaurs found earlier by Riggs, remains of some of the smaller\ndinosaurs and a complete skull of the moderately large flesh eater\n_Ceratosaurus_ are considered the most important.\nFreshwater clam and snail shells abound in some beds of the Morrison,\nparticularly in limestones, and occur sparingly in other types of beds.\nThe shells occur mainly in The Redlands, particularly about 1\u00bd miles\nwest of the Fruita bridge. Some of these shells that are filled with\nagate are sought by rockhounds.\nThe wet climate of Late Jurassic time was followed by arid or semiarid\nclimate in the Early Cretaceous. Streams continued to deposit gravel,\nsand, silt, and mud, but at a much slower rate. These deposits\neventually hardened into the conglomerate, sandstone, and green shale or\nsiltstone of the Burro Canyon Formation. This formation, together with\npart of the overlying Dakota Sandstone, caps Black Ridge, the highest\npart of the Monument (7,000 feet) about a mile west of the Coke Ovens.\nSeveral airway beacons on this high ridge may be seen for many miles.\nThe Burro Canyon is best seen below the Monument on the west side of\nMonument Road along the lower part of No Thoroughfare Canyon, where it\nis about 60 feet thick (fig. 24).\n    [Illustration: BURRO CANYON FORMATION AND DAKOTA SANDSTONE, along\n    west side of No Thoroughfare Canyon, about 2\u00bd miles northeast of the\n    Monument\u2019s East Entrance. Basal sandstone above road and unexposed\n    green shale (brown in photograph) comprise the Burro Canyon, here 58\n    feet thick. White band two-thirds the way up the slope is 40-foot\n    basal conglomerate of the Dakota Sandstone, above which is 58 feet\n    of carbonaceous shale, a 14-foot bed of sandstone, and 17 feet of\n    sandy shale to the top of the hill. The top of the Dakota has been\n    eroded away. (Fig. 24)]\nA few fossil plants and shells have come from the Burro Canyon\nFormation, but the seeming absence of dinosaur bones suggests that\npossibly these reptiles had to move to areas of greater precipitation,\nwhere food was more abundant. Some dinosaurs may have lived in the area\nat this time, but their bones either were not fossilized or they have\nnot yet been found.\n                   Yet Another Gap in the Rock Record\nDeposition of the Burro Canyon Formation was brought to a close by\nanother uplift of the Plateau, and of course the uplift was followed by\nanother period of erosion, which continued through the end of Early\nCretaceous time. As noted in the caption for figure 24, seemingly all\nbut 58 feet of the Burro Canyon was eroded away, but 120 feet remains\nalong East Creek, only about 12 miles to the southeast, which suggests\nthat the old erosion surface was a bit uneven. That this period of\nerosion was of considerable duration is suggested by the abundance of\nthe white clay mineral, kaolinite, beneath and in the overlying white\nbasal conglomerate of the Dakota Sandstone. This type of clay commonly\nresults from prolonged weathering of many types of rocks and indicates\nthat the period of pre-Dakota erosion was of long duration.\nBy the beginning of Late Cretaceous time the eroded surface of the\nMonument was part of a low plain near sea level, and the sea was\ngradually encroaching from the east or northeast. Gravel and sand\ncarried in by streams combined with the white kaolinite on the surface\nto form the 40-foot basal conglomerate of the Dakota Sandstone (fig.\nAs the land gradually subsided nearer to sea level, swamps which were\nformed along the coast supported considerable vegetation. As the trees\nand plants died and were covered by silt and mud, they gradually changed\nto peat which finally became compacted into coal and brown or black\ncoaly shale containing plant remains. You can dig out some of this coal\nand perhaps find some plant remains near the top of the west canyon wall\njust below the highest sandstone bed in figure 24, which is outside the\nMonument.\nFor awhile the coast alternately sank slightly below and rose slightly\nabove sea level. Beach sand covered the swamp deposits, then more swamp\ndeposits covered the sand. Some of the sand contains seashells, such as\noysters and clams.\nExcept on Black Ridge, the Dakota has been entirely eroded from the\nMonument, but it crops out with the underlying Burro Canyon in a series\nof low hills south of the Colorado River. The Dakota Sandstone is about\n200 feet thick.\n                       The Sea Covers the Plateau\nStill later in the Cretaceous Period the whole region sank beneath the\nsea and stayed there a long time. Silt and limy mud were piled layer\nupon layer on the sea floor and hardened into the gray and black Mancos\nShale. Thin layers of sand were cemented into sandstone, and layers of\ncalcium-carbonate mud became chalk or limestone. Seashells and bones of\nsharks and seagoing reptiles have been found in the Mancos in many\nplaces.\nThe Mancos and all younger rocks have been stripped off the Monument,\nbut they may be seen one after the other as you travel northeastward.\nThin remnants of the Mancos cap low hills just south of the Colorado\nRiver, and the entire 3,800 feet of the Mancos underlies the Grand\nValley and Book Cliffs. The upper part is clearly exposed in the\ntowering, barren Book Cliffs, where the soft shale is protected by a\ncaprock of hard sandstone\u2014the lowermost unit of the overlying Late\nCretaceous Mesaverde Group (fig. 25).\n                        The Sea\u2019s Final Retreat\nSlow uplift of the Plateau, including the Monument region, caused the\ngradual retreat of the Mancos sea. Deposition of mud on the sea bottom\ngave way to deposition of beach sand, coal swamps, and then more beach\nsand and coal swamps. Finally, in Late Cretaceous time, the sea withdrew\nentirely, never again to return to the Colorado Plateau region.\nStreams deposited sand, silt, and mud on the newly uplifted coastal\nareas. All these deposits, including some high-grade bituminous coal\nthat was formed in the swamps, we now know as the Mesaverde Group. The\nthick cliff-forming sandstones of this unit are beautifully displayed in\nDeBeque Canyon of the Colorado River between Palisade and DeBeque, just\nupstream from the Grand Valley. There are several active coal mines in\nthe Mesaverde between Palisade and Cameo, and outcrops of coal may be\nseen on the east side of the road just south of Cameo. The electric\ngenerating station of the Public Service Company of Colorado at Cameo is\nconveniently situated over a coal mine and next to the Colorado River,\nwhich supplies cooling water.\n    [Illustration: MOUNT GARFIELD, a prominent point on the Book Cliffs\n    bordering the northeastern side of the Grand Valley. Slopes are\n    Mancos Shale; ledge about halfway upslope is the toe of an ancient\n    landslide deposit of Mesaverde sandstone blocks marking the level of\n    an ancestral Grand Valley; capping beds of sandstone at crest are\n    basal beds of Mesaverde Group. (Fig. 25)]\n    photographs were taken. Arrows point to distant views. Numbers refer\n    to figure numbers. (Fig. 26)\n    Photographs for four figures are not shown because figures 5, 25 and\n    36 were taken outside the map borders and figure 1 was taken at an\n    undisclosed locality in the monument]\nThe remains of dinosaurs have been discovered in rocks of this age\nelsewhere, but near the Monument only their tracks have been found. Some\nof these, in coal mines along the Book Cliffs and near Cedaredge, are 38\ninches across and their placement indicates an incredible stride of 16\u00bc\nfeet! Had there been highways in Mesaverde time, this bipedal giant\ncould have crossed them in two strides.\nBoth the Mancos and Mesaverde once covered the Monument area but were\nremoved long ago by erosion.\nThe end of the Cretaceous Period was also the end of the dinosaurs.\nExactly why the \u201cterrible lizards\u201d died out after dominating the world\nfor more than 150 million years is not known for sure, but many guesses\nhave been made.\nOne likely idea is that widespread uplift and mountain building that\nbegan late in Cretaceous time, accompanied by changes in climate, may\nhave greatly reduced the supply of soft edible plants. If so, it is easy\nto imagine how huge dinosaurs accustomed to a ton or more of lush plant\nfood each day would soon starve to death.\nMany dinosaurs were vegetarians. As they died out, the flesheaters, such\nas _Tyrannosaurus_, soon ran short of food also, and probably began to\neat each other. _Tyrannosaurus_ closely resembled the Jurassic\n_Allosaurus_ shown in figure 23, except that _Tyrannosaurus_ was much\nlarger and more formidable\u2014in fact it probably was the most terrible\npredator that ever roamed the surface of the Earth. The dinosaurs had\nbecome too highly specialized to their environment to adapt themselves\nto changes of this kind.\nAnother fascinating notion is that the growing population of small\nprimitive mammals devoured dinosaur eggs (which were left unattended\nlike those of turtles and alligators) nearly as fast as mamma dinosaur\ncould lay them. But whatever the reason, it is clear that some worldwide\ncondition caused the gradual extinction of the ponderous\nover-specialized dinosaurs and allowed the rise to power of the next\ntypes of animals destined to rule the Earth\u2014the brainier and more\nadaptable mammals.\nAt this time the rocks were gently bent into upfolds, called anticlines\nor arches, and downfolds, called synclines or basins (fig. 27). One\nupfold that began to take form was the Uncompahgre arch, the crest of\nwhich shapes Pi\u00f1on Mesa just south of the Monument. But this gentle\nupfold was to grow larger and to have its flanks wrinkled and broken in\nthe next geologic era\u2014the Cenozoic.\nThe beginning of the Cenozoic Era 65 million years ago\u2014give or take a\nfew million years\u2014marked the beginning of a long span of geologic time\nduring which mammals became the ruling land animals. Remains of some\nsmall primitive mammals have been found in Mesozoic rocks (p. 50), but\nthese tiny newcomers did not have a chance to flourish until the\nformidable dinosaurs died out.\nThe Cenozoic Era is divided into the long Tertiary Period\u2014The Age of\nMammals\u2014and the short (about 2 million years) Quaternary Period\u2014The Age\nof Man. The Tertiary in turn is divided into five epochs\u2014the Paleocene,\nEocene, Oligocene, Miocene, and Pliocene (fig. 61). Events during parts\nof the Tertiary Period had an important bearing upon the Monument even\nthough no rocks of this period now occur in the area.\n    [Illustration: COMMON TYPES OF ROCK FOLDS. Top, anticline, or\n    upfold; closed anticlines are called domes. Middle, syncline or\n    downfold; closed synclines are called structural basins. Bottom,\n    monocline, a common type on the Plateau in which the dip of the beds\n    changes in amount but not in direction; axes may be mapped along\n    trends of upper fold, middle flexure, or lower fold. Top and middle\n    diagrams from Hansen (1969, p. 31, 108). (Fig. 27)]\n                       Early Deposits and Events\nThe broad inland basins that were formed late in the Cretaceous Period\nreceived sand, silt, and mud brought in by streams from the uplifted or\nfolded areas. These materials became compacted into the Wasatch\nFormation\u2014the red or pink rock from which Bryce Canyon National Park was\nsculptured. One such basin lay just northeast of the Monument. The\nMonument probably was covered by some of these stream deposits after the\nmain basin was partly filled.\nThe mammals that roamed the area during the Paleocene Epoch were\nprimitive, but more advanced forms appeared later, in Eocene time. Some\nof their fossil remains have been found in the Wasatch Formation in\nPlateau Creek Valley north of Grand Mesa and near Rifle, about 60 miles\nnortheast of Grand Junction. The entire 5,000 feet of the Wasatch may be\nseen along U.S. Highway I-70 between the towns of DeBeque and Grand\nValley, and much of it helps support towering Grand and Battlement\nMesas.\nIn Eocene time the northern part of the Colorado Plateau sagged downward\nand gradually filled with water until it became a huge lake, now known\nas Lake Uinta. The waters in it teemed with plants and animals,\nparticularly micro-organisms such as algae, whose remains, coated with\ncalcium carbonate, settled to the bottom along with the sand, silt, and\nmud washed into the lake by streams. These sediments compacted into the\nremarkable Green River Formation which contains, among many rock types,\nlarge deposits of rich oil shale.\nThe light-colored Green River Formation, which is about 3,800 feet\nthick, may be seen from U.S. Highway I-70 in the upper part of the\ntowering Roan Cliffs on the northwest side of the Colorado River between\nDeBeque and Rifle. It also underlies the volcanic caprock of Grand and\nBattlement Mesas. John R. Donnell, of the U.S. Geological Survey,\nestimated that the oil shale in the Piceance Creek Basin, northwest of\nthe Colorado River alone, contains more than one trillion barrels of\noil. The Monument was at or near the south shore of this lake, and may\nhave been covered with a few hundred feet of the Green River Formation.\n                        The Mountains Rise Again\nLakes, like mountains, are temporary things. Even as lakes are forming,\nsediment begins to fill them until ultimately they are obliterated. So\nit was with Lake Uinta. Sometime after this lake dried up, the Earth\u2019s\ncrust again became restless. The gentle folds that were formed late in\nthe Cretaceous were lifted higher and bent more sharply, and the flanks\nof some folds were wrinkled and broken (figs. 27, 28). The sharply bent\nor broken rocks along the northeastern border of the Monument are\nthought to have been deformed mainly at this time, but in part both\nearlier and later. That pronounced folding of the rocks followed the\ndeposition of the Eocene Green River Formation is clearly shown along\nthe Grand Hogback monocline between the towns of Rifle and Meeker,\nColorado, where the once flat lying beds of the Green River and Wasatch\nFormations now stand vertical.\nThe folds and faults along the northeastern border of the Monument,\nwhich are shown on the geologic map (fig. 8), are discussed briefly\nhere\u2014more details are given later in \u201cTrips through and around the\nMonument.\u201d The folded and faulted northeastern border of the Monument,\nwhich is shown in figure 29 and in several ensuing photographs, is\nbelieved to have resulted from renewed uplift of the area southwest of\nthe folds and faults, including the Monument. The Redlands fault (figs.\n8, 29, 37, 38, 40, 41) generally is a normal fault but locally is a\nreverse fault, as discussed on page 92 and as shown in figure 40 and in\nthe cross section of figure 8. This fault has a maximum vertical\ndisplacement of 700 or 800 feet, but dies out in scissors fashion at\neach end. Beyond the end of the Redlands fault in the upper right of\nfigure 29 may be seen another unbroken monocline. A close-up view of the\nnorthwestern end of this fold in shown in figure 30.\n    [Illustration: COMMON TYPES OF FAULTS. Top, normal, or gravity,\n    fault which generally results from tension in and lengthening of a\n    segment of the Earth\u2019s crust, which allows the lower block to\n    subside. However, some normal faults, particularly some that are\n    vertical or nearly so, may result from uplift of the upper block.\n    Low-angle reverse faults generally are called overthrust faults or\n    simply overthrusts. In both the normal and reverse faults note\n    amount of displacement and repetition of strata. Displacement of\n    such faults may range from a few inches to many thousands of feet,\n    and in overthrusts may reach many miles. From Hansen (1969, p. 116).\nIf we proceed about a quarter of a mile northeast of the point from\nwhich figure 30 was taken, walk about 50 feet north, and look to the\nnorthwest, we see quite a different structure, for here the gentle lower\nfold of the Lizard Canyon monocline has become the east end of the\nKodels Canyon fault (fig. 31).\n    [Illustration: LADDER CREEK MONOCLINE AND REDLANDS FAULT, telephoto\n    view looking northwest from point near Little Park Road east of the\n    Monument. No Thoroughfare Canyon in foreground, which is bordered on\n    the left by northeastward-dipping beds of Wingate Sandstone at\n    northwest end of Ladder Creek monocline. The old Serpents Trail, the\n    lower part of which is barely visible, ascends this dipping block of\n    rock. The dark Proterozoic rocks form the flat-topped bluff to the\n    right and are exposed by the Redlands fault which lies just above\n    the sharply upturned remnants of the Wingate Sandstone. (Fig. 29)]\n    [Illustration: LIZARD CANYON MONOCLINE, looking southeastward across\n    mouth of Lizard Canyon from southeasternmost loop of Rim Rock Drive\n    just before it ascends Fruita Canyon. Note gentle lower bend at\n    lower left and sharper upper one at upper right. Lower bend changes\n    to Kodels Canyon fault in Fruita Canyon behind camera station. Grand\n    Mesa forms left skyline. (Fig. 30)]\n    [Illustration: KODELS CANYON FAULT, looking northwest across mouth\n    of Fruita Canyon from point on Rim Rock Drive just described in\n    text. Here, along a normal fault dipping steeply northeastward, the\n    350-foot cliff of Wingate Sandstone at upper left has been sheared\n    and squeezed into only a few feet of broken rock overlain by a steep\n    slope of the Kayenta Formation covered by pi\u00f1on and juniper. The\n    thinner cliff at right is the Entrada Sandstone which belongs high\n    atop the cliffs at left. Book Cliffs form distant skyline at right.\nIf you doubt that figure 31 shows a fault, a glance at figure 32 in the\nnext major canyon eight-tenths of a mile to the northwest should\nconvince you. Here, on the northwest side of Kodels Canyon, the Wingate\nwas not thinned but was rent completely asunder by the vertical Kodels\nCanyon fault (fig. 32). Kodels Canyon is not readily accessible to\nvisitors.\nThe Lizard Canyon monocline, Kodels Canyon fault, and other structures\nare clearly shown in the stereoscopic pair of aerial photographs in\nfigure 33.\nAnother structural feature within the Monument is the Glade Park fault\n(fig. 8), which lies mainly south of the Monument but just cuts across\nthe south end of No Thoroughfare Canyon in the latest addition to the\nMonument. It is well shown both from the air and the ground in figures\n58 and 59. It is unique among all the major faults in the area in that\nthe rocks south of the fault subsided with respect to those on the north\nside.\n    [Illustration: KODELS CANYON FAULT, looking northwestward across\n    canyon of same name. Base of Wingate cliff on left is just about\n    opposite the top of the Wingate on right. Here, nature was kind to\n    the geologist, for the vertical displacement (rise of left side with\n    respect to right side) is virtually the thickness of the Wingate\n    Sandstone\u2014about 350 feet. The Wingate on the right is lighter\n    colored than that on the left seemingly because rockfalls removed\n    desert-varnish-coated rocks and exposed the true color of the\n    sandstone. (Fig. 32)]\n    [Illustration: GEOLOGIC STRUCTURES AT FRUITA ENTRANCE TO COLORADO\n    NATIONAL MONUMENT. The stereoscopic pair of aerial photographs may\n    be viewed without optical aids by those accustomed to this\n    procedure, or by use of a simple double-lens stereoscope, such as\n    the folding ones used by the armed forces during and after World War\n    II. Geologic details may be identified by comparing photographs with\n    the geologic map, figure 8. If viewer is unable to see stereoscopic\n    pairs in three dimensions, looking at either photograph alone will\n    convey a good idea of the geologic structure. The monocline near top\n    of the photographs may be seen on the right-hand side of the highway\n    in figure 43. Photographs taken in 1937 by U.S. Soil Conservation\n    Service, hence, alinement of then unpaved Colorado Highway 340\n    differs from the paved present highway. (Fig. 33)]\nAt this point in our story it might be well to point out that the\nfolding and faulting of the rocks just described occurred when thousands\nof feet of younger rocks covered the area. Additional folding and\nfaulting, drainage changes, and gradual removal of the overlying rocks\noccurred during the remainder of the Tertiary and Quaternary Periods, as\nwill be discussed further.\nGrand and Battlement Mesas, respectively east and northeast of the\nMonument, are capped by several resistant thick flows of dark basaltic\nlava. The molten rock welled up through fissures at the east end of\nGrand Mesa and flowed westward and northwestward over the eroded surface\nof Eocene rocks. Radiometric dating of a sample of the basalt indicated\nan age of 9\u00bd million years plus or minus half a million years, placing\nthe event in the Miocene Epoch of the Tertiary Period (fig. 61).\nA small remnant of the lava on the crest of the Roan Cliffs just\nsouthwest of the present town of Grand Valley indicates that the flows\ncrossed this part of the ancestral Colorado River Valley and may have\npushed the young stream westward.\nThe lava flows are about 800 feet thick on the eastern part of Grand\nMesa but are only about 200 feet thick above the western rim of the\nmesa. As the ancestral Gunnison River is believed to be pre-Miocene in\nage, it is not known whether or not the lava flows crossed the old river\nvalley and reached as far west as the Monument.\n                        Ancestral Colorado River\nDuring most of the Pliocene Epoch the ancestral Colorado River did not\nflow past what is now Grand Junction; instead, it joined with the\nancestral Gunnison River about 10 miles southeast of the present city,\nand the combined streams flowed southwestward across the slowly rising\nUncompahgre arch through what was later to be called Unaweep Canyon\n(fig. 36). Southwest of the canyon, near the site of the present town of\nGateway, the ancestral Colorado River was joined by the combined flows\nof the ancestral San Miguel River and the previously diverted ancestral\nDolores River, then it flowed northwestward to what is now the mainstem\nof the Colorado River.\nI have attempted to show my ideas of this ancient drainage system as it\nmay have existed in middle to late Pliocene time in figure 34. But the\nstage was set for more spectacular drainage changes to follow.\n                      Piracy on the High Plateaus\nRivers, like people, do not always choose their courses wisely. After a\nfew million years of downcutting through the soft sedimentary rocks,\nmainly what is now called the Mancos Shale, the ancestral Colorado and\nGunnison Rivers found themselves cutting through the hard Proterozoic\nrocks in a deep gorge athwart the slowly rising Uncompahgre arch, which\ngreatly slowed the downcutting power of the combined streams. Note in\nfigure 34_A_ that while the mighty ancestral Colorado and Gunnison\nRivers were in this frustrating predicament, a young upstart tributary\nbegan cutting northward from what is now the mouth of the Dolores River\n(fig. 34_D_). Although the combined main rivers could lower their\nchannel only very slowly because of the hard rock in Unaweep Canyon, the\ntributary was able to cut downward and headward quite rapidly through\nthe soft Mancos Shale. It eventually cut around the northwestward\ndipping Uncompahgre arch and headed southeastward toward the ancestral\nColorado River near the present site of Palisade.\nThen occurred an act of piracy that put to shame the mightiest exploits\nof Blackbeard and Captain Kidd. In latest Pliocene or earliest\nPleistocene time additional uplift of the Uncompahgre arch, an unusually\nlarge flood, or both, caused the ancestral Colorado River to overflow\nits banks and spill across a low shale divide into the headwaters of the\ntributary. Some ponding may have preceded the spillover. With this\nenormously increased supply of water, the tributary cut down rapidly\nthrough the soft shale and captured the entire flow of the Colorado\nRiver, but the ancestral Gunnison River still flowed through Unaweep\nCanyon, as shown in figure 34_B_. Stream capture of this type is\nappropriately called \u201cpiracy.\u201d\nBut the piracy had not ended. Note in figure 34_B_ that the \u201cnew\u201d river\nsent out several tributaries, one of which headed for and, with the aid\nof yet additional and greater uplift, soon captured the ancestral\nGunnison River, as shown in figure 34_C_. This second act of piracy left\nUnaweep Canyon really \u201chigh and dry\u201d except for small streams that\ncarried off what little water the canyon received from local rain and\nsnow. While these piracies were taking place, the Book Cliffs and the\nedge of Grand Mesa gradually retreated away from the valley because of\nerosion, and more of the Uncompahgre arch was uncovered.\nThe rising Uncompahgre arch, whose renewed uplifts in latest Pliocene or\nearliest Pleistocene times played such an important role in the ultimate\nabandonment of ancestral Unaweep Canyon, was asymmetric in that the\ncrest was not in the middle but was near the southwest side. Although\nsharp, locally faulted monoclines are found on both sides of the arch,\nincluding the part within the Monument, in general, the northeastern\nflank has a rather gentle northeastward dip; whereas, the southwestern\nflank of the arch also is bordered by normal faults of considerable\nvertical displacement.[31] Thus, after abandonment, the minor drainage\nin Unaweep Canyon continued to flow northeastward from a new divide near\nthe southwestern border, and ancestral West Creek began cutting\nnortheastward toward the new divide. The drainage pattern depicted in\nfigure 34_C_ differs slightly from my earlier interpretation and results\nfrom additional fieldwork.[32]\n    [Illustration: PROBABLE DRAINAGE PATTERNS AND LAND FORMS NEAR THE\n    MONUMENT AT FOUR SUCCESSIVE STAGES OF DEVELOPMENT. Solid drainage\n    lines taken from the Moab and Grand Junction, Utah-Colorado,\n    topographic maps of the Army Map Service; dashed drainage lines are\n    my own ideas. _A_, just prior to piracy of ancestral Colorado River;\n    _B_, after piracy of ancestral Colorado River and just prior to\n    piracy of ancestral Gunnison River; _C_, abandonment of Unaweep\n    Canyon after renewed uplift of Uncompahgre arch and piracy of\n    ancestral Gunnison River; and _D_, present drainage pattern after\n    additional uplift and piracy of East Creek. Modified from Lohman\n    [Illustration: A, just prior to piracy of ancestral Colorado River]\n    [Illustration: B, after piracy of ancestral Colorado River and just\n    prior to piracy of ancestral Gunnison River]\n    [Illustration: C, abandonment of Unaweep Canyon after renewed uplift\n    of Uncompahgre arch and piracy of ancestral Gunnison River]\n    [Illustration: D, present drainage pattern after additional uplift\n    and piracy of East Creek.]\nAt the time of abandonment, ancestral Unaweep Canyon was a V-shaped\ncanyon resembling Glenwood Canyon just upstream from the city of\nGlenwood Springs, Colorado. The reasons for its change in shape and\nappearance to the beautiful U-shaped canyon we find today and the\nprofound effect the abandonment of Unaweep Canyon had on the deepening\nof the Grand Valley and the canyons of the Monument will be brought out\nin the section \u201cCanyon Cutting.\u201d\nLike the dinosaurs before them, a few of the Tertiary mammals were so\nlong on brawn and short on brains that they evolved into grotesque\nmonsters and overspecialized themselves into early extinction.\nFortunately, however, most of the mammals evolved more slowly and\nmoderately into the forms we find today.\nOne group\u2014the anthropoid primates\u2014began to think, so they developed\ntheir brains rather than their brawn, particularly the Tertiary\nancestors of man. Few remains of these ancestors have been found in\nTertiary rocks, but many more have been discovered in rocks of the next\ngeologic period\u2014the Quaternary. Thus, this period may properly be\nregarded as the age of man, for man then began to dominate the Earth for\nbetter or for worse.\nThe Quaternary\u2014latest and shortest of the geologic periods\u2014is divided\ninto the Pleistocene and Holocene (recent) Epochs (fig. 61).\nDuring the Pleistocene Epoch, all continents of the Northern Hemisphere\nand some of the Southern Hemisphere were partly covered at least four\ntimes by huge glaciers. Each glacial advance in Europe and North America\nwas ended by a warmer interval during which the glaciers melted and\nretreated northward; then, vegetation and soil had time to become\nre-established. Thus, the Pleistocene has properly been called the ice\nage.\nNone of the continental glaciers reached the Monument or the Uncompahgre\nPlateau, or arch, but small alpine glaciers grew in the high Rocky\nMountains to the east, sculpturing sharp-crested peaks and ridges and\nforming beautiful valleys and lakes. Many of the beautiful lakes on\nGrand Mesa were formed by glaciation, but some near the edges were\nformed by landslides.\nThe increased streamflow from the greater precipitation and from melting\nalpine glaciers in the Rockies, particularly during times of glacial\nretreat, helped the Colorado River cut through the rocks faster, thus\nassisting in the formation of Colorado National Monument as we see it\ntoday. The river carried thousands of cubic miles of sediment to the\nGulf of California, including a lot of rock that once covered the\nMonument, and the river is still actively at work on this immense\nearthmoving project.\nIf the ancestral Colorado River carried sediment at about the same rate\nas the present river since the building of Hoover Dam, it may have\ncarried about 3 cubic miles of sediment each century. Now most of the\nrock debris is being dumped into Lake Powell\u2014the new reservoir behind\nGlen Canyon Dam. When this, Lake Mead, and other reservoirs ultimately\nbecome filled with sediment, the Gulf of California will again be the\nburial ground.\nBut other events during the Pleistocene also played a role in shaping\nthe area. The Uncompahgre arch was again uplifted and deformed in the\nPleistocene soon after the abandonment of Unaweep Canyon. This caused\nadded tilting of the strata and more bending and breaking along some of\nthe folds and faults in the Monument.\nEast Creek, which drains the northeastern half of Unaweep Canyon, was\nforced to change its course during the Pleistocene Epoch by another act\nof piracy. After capture of the Gunnison River by the newly routed\nColorado River, East Creek joined the Gunnison by way of Cactus Park.\nThen, a tributary of North East Creek headed southward and captured East\nCreek, as shown in figure 34_D_.\nWhen the Colorado River was diverted into its new course through the\nGrand Valley past the Monument, the stream channel seems to have been\nonly about 600 to 800 feet higher than it is today, but the present\ndivide in Unaweep Canyon is now about 2,500 feet higher than the\nchannel. The difference of 1,700 to 1,900 feet was caused by the\nadditional uplift of the Uncompahgre arch during the Pleistocene.\nThus, the Grand Valley and its tributary canyons, such as those of\nColorado National Monument, were cut since the abandonment of Unaweep\nCanyon, probably mainly during the Quaternary Period. This suggests that\nthe cutting of the Monument\u2019s canyons began only about 2 million years\nago, but that much of the canyon cutting occurred only a few hundred\nthousand years ago. Indeed, the canyons are still slowly being deepened,\nlengthened, and widened.\nAs you stand on any of the lookout points and gaze down into the canyons\nof the Monument, you may well wonder how such immense chasms could have\nbeen cut by such puny streams that are dry most of the time. The streams\nflow only for short periods after heavy thundershowers or after rapid\nmelting of snow. If you are lucky enough to see them flow, you will\nnotice that the water is red or brown because of the suspended mud,\nsilt, and sand. If the flow is large, you may see or hear pebbles and\ncobbles rolling along the bed. Accordingly, the streams and their\ncutting tools are slowly deepening the channels. But, you may ask, how\ndoes this account for such wide, broad-bottomed, cliff-walled canyons?\nSuch streams act mainly as storm sewers to carry off the rock debris\nformed by other types of erosion.\nWhen cutting first began, the Monument\u2019s canyons were narrow, steep, and\nV-shaped. When the top of the hard, dark Proterozoic rocks was reached,\nhowever, downcutting slowed just as it had earlier in Unaweep Canyon.\nWhile the streams were thus hung up, other erosional processes caused\nthe cliff walls to recede away from the streams, forming broad,\nflat-bottomed, U-shaped canyons.\nRecession of the cliffs away from the middle of the canyons probably was\ncaused partly by undercutting of the soft Chinle Formation by wind and\nin places by streams. This allowed slabs of the overlying Wingate\nSandstone and younger rocks to break off and fall into the\ncanyons\u2014eventually to break up and to be carted off as sand and mud by\nstreams.\nBut other processes are probably the ones chiefly responsible for the\npresent shape and width of the canyons. The summer sun heats the cliff\nfaces until they are hot to the touch, but in the present desert climate\nof the Monument the rocks cool rapidly after sundown. Oftentimes the hot\ncliff faces are chilled rapidly by summer thundershowers. Repeated\nheating, cooling, wetting, and drying causes expansion and contraction\nof the rocks so that thin layers break off and fall. This process goes\non slowly even in winter on sun-facing cliffs, but it does not occur on\nthe cliffs that face away from the winter sun.\nEven more important, perhaps, is the alternate freezing at night and\nthawing by day on sun-facing cliff faces during the winter. Water in\ncracks near the cliff faces alternately freezes and melts, gradually\nprying off slabs of rock. Canyon walls that are shaded from the sun most\nof the winter, however, stay cold or frozen much of the winter; hence,\nthey are not subject to repeated heating and cooling or freezing and\nthawing. Thus, you will notice that because of talus accumulation many\nsuch canyon walls are sloping rather than vertical.\nTo illustrate the above conjectures concerning the cutting and shaping\nof the canyons, let us consider several canyons that trend in different\ndirections. We have seen in figure 12 that the left side of\nnortheastward trending Red Canyon is a nearly vertical cliff that faces\nthe sun most of the winter; whereas, the right side, which is shaded\nmost of the winter, slopes gently enough to be climbed at many places.\nThe sides of Ute Canyon, which trends more nearly northward (fig. 52),\nslope about equally, as would be expected. However, the west arm of the\nCanyon, which trends slightly southeastward, has sides whose slopes\ndiffer markedly (fig. 35).\nThis brings us to the remarkable transformation of the original V-shape\nof Unaweep Canyon to the beautiful U-shape of the present canyon, which\nis shown in figure 36. The abandonment of Unaweep Canyon discussed\nearlier removed the gigantic storm sewer that for millions of years\ncarried off the products of vigorous erosion of the canyon walls by the\nprocesses just described. Rock materials that now fall from the cliffs\nof the inner gorge in hard Proterozoic rocks and that fall from the\noverlying softer sedimentary rocks simply pile up at the foot of the\ncliffs to form a canyon equally as U-shaped as those cut by glaciers in\nthe high mountains. Indeed, Unaweep Canyon has been mistaken for a\nglacial canyon by many, including some geologists.\n    [Illustration: Petroglyph]\n    [Illustration: FALLEN ROCK, in west arm of Ute Canyon below\n    waterfall, from Fallen Rock Overlook. Note that the sun-facing left\n    side of canyon, containing the fallen block of Wingate Sandstone, is\n    a vertical cliff; whereas, the shaded right side can be readily\n    climbed. The right side contains a trail near the middle of the\n    picture, but it is hidden by vegetation. (Fig. 35)]\n    [Illustration: UNAWEEP CANYON, looking southwest from rim of inner\n    gorge cut in hard Proterozoic rocks, just to the right side of first\n    cattle guard on Divide Road, near middle of sec. 16, T. 14S., R. 100\n    W., about 5 miles northeast of drainage divide shown in figure\n    34_D_. Drainage divide is just around the corner to the right of the\n    most distant part of the canyon visible. Slope above vertical cliff\n    on right consists of Chinle Formation, Wingate Sandstone, and flat\n    crest of Entrada Sandstone (Kayenta Formation is absent). Paved road\n    in canyon is Colorado Highway 141. (Fig. 36)]\nThis ends the brief geologic story of Colorado National Monument, except\nfor a peek into the future, a description of trips through and around\nthe Monument, and a comparison with other Parks and Monuments on the\nPlateau. The temporary nature of lakes, rivers, and even mountains has\nbeen discussed\u2014the Monument of today and the new course of the Colorado\nRiver are no exceptions.\nThe Colorado River did not solve its problems by abandoning its\nhard-rock course in Unaweep Canyon in favor of a soft-rock course\nthrough Ruby and Westwater Canyons\u2014it just postponed them. The river has\nagain cut down into its old nemesis\u2014the hard Proterozoic rock\u2014in Ruby\nCanyon just within the Colorado border, in Westwater Canyon in Utah, and\nthe Gunnison River has reached the hard rock at its confluence with\nDominguez Creek, not far above Whitewater, as shown in figure 34_D_.\nThus, once again hard rock is slowing down old man river, and will slow\nhim down for a long time to come. Someday, Westwater and Ruby Canyons\nwill be deep gorges like Unaweep Canyon. Then it is quite possible that\nanother young tributary may sneak around the Uncompahgre arch some miles\nnorthwest of these canyons and pirate the river into a new soft-rock\ncourse.\nBy this time, the Monument will have changed appearance considerably.\nSome of the canyons will have come together by eating away the ramparts\nthat separated them\u2014just as the two entrances of Monument Canyon have\nalready done. But as the lower canyons thus eliminate themselves, the\nheadwaters will bite deeper into Pi\u00f1on Mesa, so perhaps the Monument\nwill simply creep slowly southwestward. However, renewed uplift, more\nvolcanos, changes in climate, or other events could alter the picture.\nStill, if the geologic clock ran as fast as the ones we use, the picture\nof the Monument we see today would be on the screen only a small\nfraction of a split second. But the geologic clock ticks on, slowly but\nsurely, and, someday, the Holocene Epoch in which we live will become\njust another brief chapter in the long geologic history of the Earth.\n    [Illustration: Petroglyph]\n                        How to See the Monument\nHow to see the monument depends in large part on how long you can stay,\nbut it depends also upon the direction you are travelling to or through\nGrand Junction and Fruita, and on the mode of transportation. Moreover,\nthe Monument has four entrances\u2014two main entrances from Fruita (West\nEntrance) and Grand Junction (East Entrance), and two subordinate\nentrances from the Glade Park area to the southwest.\nThough by no means as well known as our large National Parks, Colorado\nNational Monument is more readily accessible than many. It is on two\ntranscontinental highways (U.S. 6 and 50), is the western terminus of\nU.S. 24, and is on nearly completed Interstate 70, one of the most\nscenic transcontinental Interstate Highways. Highway I-70 supersedes\nmany stretches of U.S. 6, 24, and 50, but the latter are still used in\nparts of the Grand Valley and elsewhere. The Monument also is on the\nmain line of the Denver and Rio Grande Western Railroad, which still\nmaintains limited passenger service between Denver and Salt Lake City,\nbut this service may eventually be terminated. Grand Junction\u2019s Walker\nField is served by several airlines, and both Grand Junction and Fruita\nare served by busses.\nMany people driving through the Grand Valley for the first time are\nunaware of the Monument\u2019s existence unless they happen to see it on a\nroadmap or see road signs pointing toward it, but unfortunately the\nsigns are unevenly and poorly distributed. People entering Grand\nJunction from the east on U.S. 6 and 24 or from the southeast on U.S. 50\nare apt to see one or more of the signs\u2014particularly when crossing Grand\nAvenue on First or Fifth Streets. If they are heading westward and can\ndevote at least half a day, they may drive to the East Entrance, follow\nRim Rock Drive for 22 miles northwestward through the Monument, stop at\nsome or most of the scenic overlooks and the Visitor Center, leave via\nthe West Entrance, and proceed northwestward on U.S. 6 and 50 or better\nyet on I-70. However, as will be described below, longer stops are much\nmore rewarding. Those driving eastward on I-70 may see the sign at the\nFruita interchange pointing southward toward the Monument\u2014and may take\nthe above described quickie trip in reverse. Those heading northwestward\non I-70, however, may not be aware of the Monument until they see the\nsign at the Fruita interchange; then, they may not have or take time to\ndouble back southeastward through the Monument. If they do drive\nsoutheastward through the Monument, however, they can return to Fruita\nfollowing a very scenic northwesterly route through The Redlands on\nBroadway (Colo. Highway 340) and South Broadway, or they may take a\npaved shortcut from near the East Entrance to South Broadway via South\nCamp Road (p. 118). Drinking water and sanitary restrooms are available\nin the headquarters area in the campgrounds and picnic grounds and\nVisitor Center, and in the Devils Kitchen Picnic Area. Food is not\navailable in the Monument, so those planning to remain all day should\nbring lunches.\nI have conducted many groups through the Monument, always choosing to\ntravel northwestward from Grand Junction through The Redlands, just\nnortheast of the Monument, to the West Entrance, then returning\nsoutheastward through the Monument.[33] On most days, taking the trip in\nthese directions affords good lighting for photographing most of the\nscenic features. This and other routes are described in the next section\nand are plainly labeled so that the visitor may start with any trip he\nor she chooses. Regardless of how long you stay or which routes you\nfollow, it is advisable to be well supplied with color film.\nSome of the view points and overlooks have displays or signs to help\ninterpret the scenic features, and more of these aids are added from\ntime to time.\nThere are three maps in this report (figs. 3, 8, 26); these maps will be\nhelpful to anyone touring the Monument. Figure 3 shows streams, highways\nand roads, principal trails, named features, overlooks, and trip-guide\nlocations; figure 8 is a geologic map; and figure 26 shows localities\nwhere most of the photographs were taken. In addition, topographic maps\nof the Monument and adjacent areas by the U.S. Geological Survey, scale\n1:24,000, are available from several sources and are a considerable aid\nto visitors. In addition to cultural and drainage features, such maps\nshow the exact shape of the land by means of contour lines, which are\nlevel lines that go in and out of canyons, around ridges, and so forth.\nA special map of the Colorado National Monument quadrangle is available\nalso in a shaded relief edition, which gives a three dimensional effect\nby proper shading of canyons and ridges. Both types of maps are for sale\nat the Visitor Center, and these and adjacent quadrangles, such as the\nGrand Junction, Fruita, Glade Park, and Island Mesa, are sold at several\nengineering and stationery stores in Grand Junction and at the U.S.\nGeological Survey\u2019s Map Distribution Office, Building 41, Federal\nCenter, Denver, Colorado, 80225. The latter office and the Visitor\nCenter also sell copies of my \u201cGeologic Map of the Grand Junction area,\nColorado,\u201d published in 1963 as Miscellaneous Investigations Map I-404.\n    [Illustration: Petroglyph]\n               Trips Through and Around the Monument[34]\n  From Grand Junction through the Redlands to the West Entrance of the\n  STARTING POINT\nWe will begin our trip in the southwestern part of Grand Junction at the\nintersection of First Street and Grand Avenue, (this is also the\nintersection of U.S. Highways 6 and 50 and Colorado Highway 340), by\nfollowing a sign on Highway 340 pointing westward toward the Monument.\nAfter crossing a viaduct over the railroad yards and a bridge across the\nColorado River, we come to a traffic light and a sign pointing left\ntoward the Monument. The road to the left connects with Monument Road\nwhich leads up No Thoroughfare Canyon to the East Entrance. However, we\nwill continue westward toward The Redlands.\n  REDLANDS CANAL\nJust beyond the stoplight we cross a bridge over the Redlands Power\nCanal which carries 675 cubic feet per second (cfs, or ft\u00b3s\u207b\u00b9)[35] from\nthe Redlands Diversion Dam on the Gunnison River about 2\u00bd miles south of\nGrand Junction. A quarter of a mile northwest of the bridge, most of the\nwater falls to a lower powerplant that generates electricity for pumping\nthe remaining 50 cfs to three lift canals, which are used mainly for\nirrigating peach orchards in the eastern part of The Redlands.\n  SOUTH BROADWAY\nAfter Colorado Highway 340 curves right it is known as Broadway\u2014a paved\nroad serving much of The Redlands and connecting with the West Entrance\nof the Monument. We will follow Broadway about 3 miles, passing low\noutcrops and roadcuts of the Dakota Sandstone, some of which contain\ncoal beds and some of which are covered by a veneer of gravel laid down\nby the river when the channel was higher. Then, at the first store and\nfilling station we turn southwest on another paved road known as South\nBroadway.\n  SOUTH CAMP ROAD SIDE TRIP\nJust around the curve to the right is a T-intersection from which paved\nSouth Camp Road leads south to a growing suburban area; and 2\u00bd miles to\nthe southeast it connects with Monument Road at a point only half a mile\nnorth of the East Entrance of the Monument.\nExcellent views of the cliffs of dark Proterozoic rocks, the overlying\ncliffs of the Wingate Sandstone, and the Redlands fault along the\nnortheastern border of the Monument are seen all along South Broadway,\nbut views from South Camp Road and several connecting roads to the\nsouthwest are especially good. (See figs. 37 and 38.) As noted earlier,\nthe Redlands fault has a maximum vertical displacement of 700 or 800\nfeet, but dies out in scissors fashion at each end.\n    [Illustration: REDLANDS FAULT, looking west from South Camp Road\n    about one mile south of South Broadway. Fault here is nearly\n    vertical and normal, and lies between updragged Wingate Sandstone\n    and dark Proterozoic schist, gneiss, and granite. All or most of the\n    soft Chinle Formation has been squeezed out along the fault. Note\n    smooth erosion surface atop hard, dark rocks surmounted by slope of\n    red Chinle Formation and cliffs of Wingate Sandstone capped by\n    lowermost resistant beds of Kayenta Formation. (Fig. 37)]\n  _BRACHIOSAURUS_ MONUMENT\nAs we continue westward on South Broadway, note on the right the\nbrightly colored mudstone and siltstone of the Brushy Basin Member of\nthe Morrison Formation strewn with large blocks of rusty-looking\nsandstone from the Burro Canyon Formation, which caps the high ridge on\nthe right. Just above the deep cut on the right four-tenths of a mile\nwest of the intersection with South Camp Road is a bronze plaque set in\na masonry monument, whose lettering is easily readable in figure 39.\nMany years after the excavation in 1900 (fig. 22), Elmer Riggs contacted\nAl Look, of Grand Junction, in regard to the casting and erection of\nthis plaque. Al, Elmer, Ed Faber, and a few other citizens put up the\nnecessary funds and personally erected the plaque and monument. Somehow\nor other, _Brachiosaurus_ was misspelled _Brachyosaurus_, as shown in\nfigure 39, but the intentions were good. Later I will call attention to\nanother similar monument commemorating the finding by Riggs of another\ndinosaur skeleton.\n    [Illustration: CLOSEUP OF UPDRAGGED WINGATE SANDSTONE ALONG REDLANDS\n    FAULT, looking northwest from side road 1\u00bd miles southwest of\n    intersection of South Camp Road and South Broadway. White \u201cpimple\u201d\n    atop cliff near left skyline is Liberty Cap, an erosional remnant of\n    the Wingate Sandstone, reachable via the Liberty Cap Trail (fig. 3;\n    and p. 108). Chinle Formation here was largely squeezed out along\n    the fault. (Fig. 38)]\n  WATCH TURNS\nAfter a sharp turn to the north and another to the west, South Broadway\nreaches the top of a hill just above the Elk\u2019s Club and curves gently to\nthe right past sandstone lenses in the Salt Wash Member of the Morrison\nFormation. A 610-foot-deep well at the house on the left formerly flowed\nabout 1\u00bd gallons a minute from the Entrada and Wingate Sandstones.\n    [Illustration: BRONZE PLAQUE AND MONUMENT MARKING THE DISCOVERY OF\n    _BRACHIOSAURUS ALTITHORAX_ RIGGS, above roadcut on South Broadway\n    four-tenths of a mile west of South Camp Road. See also figure 22.\n    For discrepancy in spelling text. (Fig. 39)]\n  LEFT TURN\n  WATCH FOR BUFFALO\nHalf a mile to the north, South Broadway turns sharply to the left even\nthough another paved road continues northward. Three-fourths of a mile\nto the west, we turn northwestward parallel to the Monument boundary\nfence for seven-tenths of a mile before turning north again. The 7-foot\nchain-link fence just to the left of the road is the northeastern\nboundary of the Monument and encloses the herd of buffalo. In the late\nforties or early fifties a young bull challenged the older leader for\npossession of the herd and gored and pounded the old bull so badly he\nhad to be shot by a ranger. During the furious battle 125 feet of this\nstrong steel fence was utterly demolished. It is reported that sometimes\nan old bull simply takes one look at the young challenger and retreats\nwithout a battle, but other lone or rogue bulls may temporarily or\npermanently leave the herd for other reasons. Such outcasts are\ndangerous and unpredictable. One bull kept a ranger \u201ctreed\u201d for 4 hours\non a steep rock ledge in the broiling sun before moving on to a patch of\ngrass. Four of these critters delayed by one week my walking out a\nstretch of the Redlands fault on their side of the fence. I decided that\na live geologist had advantages over a dead hero.\n  REDLANDS FAULT\n  WINGATE DRIVE SIDE TRIP\nThroughout most of its 6-mile length the Redlands fault is a vertical or\nnearly vertical normal fault, but along and near this 0.7-mile stretch\nit is a reverse fault that dips from 45\u00b0 to 60\u00b0 to the southwest, as\nshown in figure 40 and in the cross section of figure 8. Good views of\nthe fault are seen all along the fence, but especially at points\none-tenth and four-tenths of a mile northwest of the first turn, the\nsecond of which is shown in figure 40. Just after turning north on South\nBroadway, let us turn west a few hundred feet on paved Wingate Drive to\nsee the northwest end of the Redlands fault, which passes through a col\nto the left of updragged remnants of the thinned red Chinle Formation\nand the Wingate Sandstone, as shown in figure 41.\n    [Illustration: REVERSE PART OF REDLANDS FAULT, looking N. 65\u00b0 W.\n    from point on South Broadway along boundary fence. Most of Chinle\n    Formation has been squeezed out, but lower part of Wingate Sandstone\n    may be seen dipping about 45\u00b0 southwestward beneath dark Proterozoic\n    rocks. Next pink band to right is Entrada Sandstone. Jumbled mass of\n    white sandstone slabs at right of photograph is part of Salt Wash\n    Member of Morrison Formation and is known locally as \u201cWhite Rock\u201d.\n    [Illustration: NORTHWEST END OF REDLANDS FAULT, passing through col\n    to left of updragged remnants of Chinle Formation and Wingate\n    Sandstone. Fault, which here is normal, ends against unbroken Lizard\n    Canyon monocline in next canyon to northwest. Looking west from\n    point just south of Wingate Drive a few hundred feet west of South\n    Broadway. (Fig. 41)]\n  MONUMENT CANYON TRAIL\nAbout half a mile north of the last turn, South Broadway rejoins\nBroadway (Colo. Highway 340) at a stop sign. After we turn left on\nBroadway and reach the first curve, we get a nice view westward into\nMonument Canyon, as shown in figure 42. The Park Service hopes to\nestablish a new trailhead at the bridge one-tenth of a mile west of the\ncurve, from which a new section of trail will follow the normally dry\nwash southwestward to join the old Monument Canyon Trail. After we cross\nthe creek leaving the canyon, we pass a low hill of the Salt Wash Member\nof the Morrison Formation on the left. Just beyond the hill, the dirt\nroad leading southwest to a farmhouse formerly was the beginning of the\nMonument Canyon Trail (fig. 3). There is a new temporary trailhead a\nquarter of a mile north, but it is hoped that a permanent one can be\nbuilt at the bridge about a quarter of a mile to the southeast, as noted\nabove. Hikers may see buffalo along this trail and should watch out for\noutcast bulls.\n    [Illustration: LOOKING WEST INTO MONUMENT CANYON, from curve on\n    Broadway just northwest of end of South Broadway, showing\n    Independence Monument. This monument was seen in figure 6 and will\n    be seen again in figure 51. Redlands fault ends in this canyon;\n    Lizard Canyon monocline can be seen on extreme right. (Fig. 42)]\n  DRAINAGE DIVIDE\nAbout half a mile north of the farm road we reach the highest point on\nBroadway (Colo. 340) at a drainage divide. Inasmuch as the three\nRedlands Lift Canals end east of the divide, there is quite a contrast\nbetween the lush irrigated lands east of the divide and the nearly\nbarren desert to the west, a view of which is shown in figure 43. To the\nsouthwest of the divide is an excellent view of the\nnortheastward-dipping beds on the Lizard Canyon monocline. On the left\nabout a mile northwest of the divide we pass the other entrance of\nMonument Canyon, then Lizard Canyon, and a switchback on Rim Rock Drive\nascending the ridge between Lizard and Fruita Canyons. The water well\nbeneath elevated tank on left is 650 feet deep and formerly flowed at\nabout half a gallon a minute from the Wingate Sandstone. Household needs\nare obtained by pumping.\n    [Illustration: LOOKING WEST FROM DIVIDE ON BROADWAY 2 MILES EAST OF\n    WEST ENTRANCE TO MONUMENT. Monoclinal hill on right is Brushy Basin\n    Member of Morrison Formation capped by basal beds of Burro Canyon\n    Formation. Rocks at left middle are blocks of sandstone in the Salt\n    Wash Member of the Morrison. (Fig. 43)]\n  ROAD INTERSECTION\nAt the next intersection, Colorado Highway 340 turns right and continues\nabout 2\u00bd miles to Fruita; the highway to the left reaches the West\nEntrance of the Monument in a quarter of a mile. Before turning left\ninto the Monument, however, we will interrupt our description of the\ntrip by making a new start from Fruita for the benefit of people\ntravelling from this direction.\n    [Illustration: Bison]\n            From Fruita to the West Entrance of the Monument\n  MORRISON FORMATION\nFrom the Fruita interchange on I-70, the overpass leads north into the\ntown of Fruita, and Colorado Highway 340 leads south about 2\u00bd miles to\nthe West Entrance of Colorado National Monument. One mile south we cross\nthe new bridge over the Colorado River; the old bridge formerly\nconnecting Fruita with the Monument may be seen half a mile upstream.\nJust south of the new bridge we see sandstone on the left and green\nshale on the right, both part of the Burro Canyon Formation. The high\nhill on the left is made up of brightly colored siltstones and mudstones\nof the Brushy Basin Member of the Morrison Formation capped by the basal\nsandstone of the Burro Canyon Formation. On the southeast side of this\nhill is another bronze plaque set in a masonry monument, similar to the\none at Riggs Hill (fig. 39), commemorating the discovery and removal in\n1900 by Elmer S. Riggs of a skeleton of the immense dinosaur\n_Apatosaurus excelcus_ Marsh. (See figure 23_B_). About 1\u00be miles\nnorthwest of the new bridge is the Fruita Paleontological area discussed\non page 50.\nJust south of the hill, the highway curves gently to the left across a\nrelatively flat surface of the Morrison Formation. To the right may be\nseen good exposures of the Entrada Sandstone, at the north end of which\ncurbstones were quarried from thin beds of the white Moab Member for use\nin some of the parking areas along Rim Rock Drive. Some of the beds are\nripple marked[36] from wave action along ancient beaches or within\nancient lagoons. Some ripple-marked curbstones from this quarry may be\nseen in the parking area at Red Canyon Overlook, and elsewhere in the\nMonument.\nAs we approach the Monument we see that to the left the rock strata are\nbent downward toward us along what geologists call a monocline (see\nfigs. 27 and 30), but to the right may be seen cliffs of dark\nProterozoic rocks surmounted by slopes of the red Chinle Formation and\ncliffs of the buff Wingate Sandstone capped by the lowermost beds of the\nresistant Kayenta Formation. The bent and broken rocks ahead are well\nshown in figure 33.\nAbout 1\u00bd miles south of the Colorado River we reach the T-intersection\nnoted previously\u2014at the end of the trip from Grand Junction through The\nRedlands to the West Entrance of the Monument\u2014and we are ready for our\ntrip through the Monument.\n            Through the Monument from West to East Entrances\n  WEST ENTRANCE\nAfter turning south on Rim Rock Drive from the intersection with\nColorado Highway 340 (Broadway), we cross the Monument\u2019s northern\nboundary and reach the checking station at the West Entrance, where a\nsmall entry fee is charged during the summer. At the first left turn we\nare in red beds of the Chinle Formation, then in sheared and broken beds\nof the Wingate Sandstone along the Kodels Canyon fault. At the\neasternmost loop of the road we may look southeastward across Lizard\nCanyon to the Lizard Canyon monocline (fig. 30), and if we look down the\nslope to the east we will see one of John Otto\u2019s well-built trails that\nformerly ascended the west side of Lizard Canyon to what is now the\ncampground, long before Rim Rock Drive was built. Do not try to stop at\nthe curve, however; play it safe, drive on, and park at Redlands View a\nquarter of a mile west.\n  REDLANDS VIEW\nBy walking about 50 feet north of the turnout, we get an excellent view\nto the west of the Kodels Canyon fault, as shown in figure 31. Just to\nthe north of the fault are the sheared and broken beds of the Wingate\nSandstone along the east end of this fault.\n  NEW EARTHFILL\nJust beyond the turnout the road curves left through a cut in the\nWingate Sandstone and ascends the east side of Fruita Canyon. About a\nquarter of a mile from the parking area we get a good view (fig. 44) to\nthe west of the new earthfill on Rim Rock Drive between the two tunnels.\nThe original fill was washed out in a few minutes on August 8, 1968, by\na cloudburst that dumped an estimated 4 inches of rain on the mesa west\nof Fruita Canyon. A culvert beneath the road just north of the north\ntunnel was wholly unable to cope with the resulting flood, part of which\nplunged over the cliff but most of which roared southward through the\ntunnel. According to the only known eyewitnesses\u2014a couple from Ohio\nwhose car was stalled in 18 inches of swift water in the lower tunnel\u2014an\nestimated 4 feet of water flowing through the north tunnel soon\nseparated the two tunnels by a gaping chasm and flowed down where the\nfill had been but moments earlier. They jockeyed their car back and\nforth in the south tunnel and retraced the route back toward Fruita.\nLater I viewed the chasm from the portal of the north tunnel and found\nit awesome indeed.\n    [Illustration: NEW FILL ON RIM ROCK DRIVE BETWEEN TWO TUNNELS ON\n    WEST SIDE OF FRUITA CANYON, looking west from east side of canyon.\n    Previous fill was washed out by flash flood, as described in text.\n    [Illustration: Petroglyph]\nThe road remained closed for 1\u00bd years until December 20, 1969, much to\nthe annoyance and discomfort of both visitors and Monument\npersonnel\u2014particularly the latter. During the summer, the usual 16-mile\ndaily round trip to the post office in Fruita via the West Entrance was\nincreased to about 80 miles by way of the East Entrance. During the\nschool season, wives of Monument personnel took turns driving a station\nwagon full of children on two daily round trips to the schools and post\noffice in Fruita. Note in figure 44, taken only 6\u00bd years after the road\nwas reopened, that small gullies already have been cut in the lower half\nof the new fill. Another local cloudburst could remove the new fill, but\nlet us hope this does not happen!\nOn the next curve to the east the road cuts entirely through the red\nChinle Formation, which here has a measured thickness of 103 feet.[37]\nFrom the base of the Chinle to about the creek crossing the road cuts\nexpose the old Proterozoic metamorphic rocks, which here have a purple\nhue.\n  BALANCED ROCK\nAt the southernmost loop of the road is a parking area for viewing\nBalanced Rock. The photograph for the frontispiece was taken from the\nhillside near the foot of the monolith.\n  HISTORIC TRAILS VIEW\nAfter the road turns north, we again cross the entire Chinle Formation,\nthen penetrate the Wingate Sandstone through the two tunnels (turn on\nyour lights) shown on all the maps and in figures 33 and 44. Just beyond\nthe highest tunnel (turn off your lights) we reach Historic Trails View,\nwith a sign noting the early expeditions that traversed the area. West\nfrom the parking area, but better yet by walking to the westernmost\ncurve, may be seen the northern part of the Black Ridge Trail.\n    [Illustration: FRUITA CANYON, looking northeast from point on Rim\n    Rock Drive above head of canyon. Dark Proterozoic rocks floor the\n    canyon, above which are the slopes of the red Chinle Formation and\n    the cliffs of Wingate Sandstone capped by the lower resistant beds\n    of the Kayenta Formation. Beyond the Grand Valley are the dark Book\n    Cliffs and the more distant, light-colored Roan Cliffs, which are\n    shown more clearly in figure 48. (Fig. 45)]\n  FRUITA CANYON VIEW\nThis foot trail is part of the old stock trail over which sheep and\ncattle once were driven down to the Grand Valley from Glade Park and\nPi\u00f1on Mesa. The road then winds upward through a series of switchbacks\ncut into the Kayenta Formation to Distant View and then to a parking\nspot at the relatively new Fruita Canyon View, which affords a splendid\nview of Fruita Canyon. Figure 45 was taken from a point about a tenth of\na mile to the east. On the right are housing facilities for Monument\npersonnel.\n  CAMPGROUND AND PICNIC AREA\nAt the top of the hill just beyond the head of Fruita Canyon, two roads\nturn left; the first makes several loops through the modern campground\nand picnic area then returns to Rim Rock Drive; the second enters a\nlarge parking lot at the Visitor Center. Let us take the first road,\nthen turn sharp to the left again just west of the Saddlehorn and\nexplore the camp and picnic areas, which are on a gently sloping mesa of\nthe Kayenta Formation dotted with pi\u00f1on and juniper trees and bushes of\nmany kinds. The Saddlehorn is an erosional remnant of the Entrada\nSandstone. (See fig. 50.) The deluxe campground has both drive-through\nand back-in campsites, modern restrooms, tables, piped water, and\ngrills. Two of the drive-through sites on the northernmost loop are\nshown in figure 46.\n    [Illustration: CAMPSITES AT NORTH END OF CAMPGROUND, Grand Valley\n    and Book Cliffs beyond. (Fig. 46)]\nA view of the picnic area and parking lot is shown in figure 47. During\nthe summer, evening slide talks are given by rangers at a small\namphitheater just north of the Saddlehorn and to the left of the view\nshown in figure 47.\n  WINDOW ROCK\nAn interesting quarter-of-a-mile self-guiding Window Rock Nature Trail\nleads from the northeast corner of the campground to Window Rock and\nloops back past Book Cliffs View, which contains a table beneath a\nramada. Window Rock Trail connects with the scenic Canyon Rim Trail,\nwhich leads southwestward to the Visitor Center. Views of Window Rock\nand Monument Canyon from Canyon Rim Trail are shown in figures 48 and\n    [Illustration: PICNIC AREA AND PARKING LOT, looking northeast from\n    top of the Saddlehorn. Large groups can be accommodated by making\n    advance reservations. Cliff of Wingate Sandstone on right across\n    Monument Canyon is part of Lizard Canyon monocline. (See fig. 29.)\n  VISITOR CENTER\u2014MONUMENT HEADQUARTERS\nAfter we return to Rim Rock Drive, a double left turn brings us to a\nlarge parking lot. We are now at the Visitor Center and Monument\nHeadquarters, which is well worth a visit. In the front of the building\nare modern restrooms and a drinking fountain. Inside the lobby may be\npurchased film, slides, post cards, maps, booklets, and reports. A\nnarrated slide show and museum help materially in conveying just what\nthe Monument has to offer. I was pleased at being asked to contribute\nseveral of the geologic exhibits, partly with the aid of former Survey\nartist John R. Stacy. From the back door a path leads to a fenced\noverlook for viewing an arm of Monument Canyon. The overlook also is the\nbeginning of Canyon Rim Trail which connects about half a mile to the\nnortheast with Window Rock Trail at Book Cliff View.\n    [Illustration: WINDOW ROCK, a window eroded along a vertical joint\n    near the top of the Wingate Sandstone. Telephoto view looking\n    northeast from Canyon Rim Trail. Note fenced overlook on Kayenta\n    Formation to left of window to keep people from crossing joint above\n    window, for someday the monolith to the right will fall, as did\n    Fallen Rock (fig. 35). Note light-colored Roan Cliffs of Green River\n    Formation beyond Book Cliffs. (Fig. 48)]\n    [Illustration: PIPE ORGAN, looking southeast across Monument Canyon\n    from Canyon Rim Trail, and Independence Monument to left beyond.\n    Photograph by Darrell Arnold, Grand Junction. (Fig. 49)]\n  GAP IN ROCK RECORD\nHalf a mile southwest of the parking lot is one of the narrowest\nstretches of Rim Rock Drive at the edge of a Wingate cliff that actually\noverhangs. But do not worry, it is well protected by a rock wall. At the\nhead of the canyon is a large jumbled landslide of the Morrison\nFormation that has covered the cliff of Entrada Sandstone. Along the\nnarrow stretch and just beyond the landslide are excellent views on the\nright of the erosional unconformity between the eroded surface of the\nKayenta Formation and the overlying Slick Rock Member of the Entrada\nSandstone, a view of which is shown in figure 15 and a discussion of\nwhich is given on pages 35 to 39.\n  PIPE ORGAN\nFrom the next parking area to the northeast at Pipe Organ Overlook we\nmay hike half a mile over Otto\u2019s Trail to an overlook of the Pipe Organ;\na view of the Pipe Organ from the northwest is shown in figure 49. From\nabout the middle of this trail we may look to the northwest across the\ncanyon to the Visitor Center and the Saddlehorn (fig. 50).\n  DEPENDENCE VIEW\nAt the next parking area at Independence View we see Independence\nMonument (fig. 51) from quite a different angle than the photograph\nshown in figure 6. This view clearly shows it to be a thin erosional\nremnant of a narrow wall that once connected mesas to the northeast and\nsouthwest and which separated the two entrances of Monument Canyon.\n  GRAND VIEW\nGrand View, six-tenths of a mile farther southeast, affords excellent\nviews of several features in and near Monument Canyon. A short improved\ntrail to the northeast leads to a sandstone ledge from which the\ninfrared photograph for the front cover was taken. The trail then veers\neastward to a fenced cliff-top viewpoint from which one may look nearly\nstraight down to a stretch of Monument Canyon Trail. You may see hikers\non the trail or buffalo in the canyon. The photograph for figure 6 was\ntaken from a point just north of the north end of the parking area.\n  MONUMENT CANYON VIEW\nAnother 1\u2153 miles takes us to the next parking area at Monument Canyon\nView, from which one may walk a short distance to the northeast. The\nphotograph shown in figure 13 was taken from a point northeast of the\nparking area.\nFrom the head of Fruita Canyon to Monument Canyon View, Rim Rock Drive\nis on a bench of the Kayenta Formation that separates the two lines of\ncliffs. We must now leave this bench, however, because from near Coke\nOvens Overlook to beyond Artists Point the bench ceases to exist, and\nthe Entrada, Kayenta, and Wingate form virtually a single cliff.\nMoreover, we must get up into the Morrison Formation in order to cross\nthe divide between Monument and Ute Canyons. For these reasons, in the\nnext three-quarters of a mile south of Monument Canyon View the road\ncuts upward through the entire Entrada Sandstone. Just beyond the first\ncurve are quarries on the right from which curb and building stones were\ncut by the Civilian Conservation Corps in the 1930\u2019s for protecting\noverlooks and narrow stretches of road. At the southwest end of this\nstretch is another parking area at Coke Ovens Overlook, which provides\ngood views of the north side of the Coke Ovens.\n  COKE OVENS OVERLOOK\nThe next parking area a quarter of a mile to the southwest is the\nMonument Canyon Trailhead of the long trail to the mouth of Monument\nCanyon and of a short trail to the Coke Ovens.\n  ARTISTS POINT\nHalf a mile to the southeast takes us to a large parking area at Artists\nPoint, which offers a wide variety of scenic views. The best exposure of\nthe Summerville Formation in the entire area that I mapped[38] is on the\nwest side of the road, as shown in figure 20. A short trail leads down\nto a fenced overlook for viewing the Coke Ovens to the north (fig. 11)\nand Monument Canyon to the northeast.\n    [Illustration: VISITOR CENTER AND THE SADDLEHORN, looking northwest\n    across canyon from Otto\u2019s Trail. Note thin-bedded bench of the\n    Kayenta Formation separating cliffs of the Entrada Sandstone above\n    the Wingate Sandstone below. The Saddlehorn is the remnant of the\n    Entrada at the extreme right. (Fig. 50)]\n    [Illustration: INDEPENDENCE MONUMENT, looking northeast from\n    Independence View. Note updragged block of Wingate Sandstone at\n    northwestern end of Redlands fault, just to the right of center. The\n    other side of this block is shown in figure 41. Grand Mesa forms\n    right skyline. (Fig. 51)]\n  HIGHLAND VIEW\n  DIVIDE\nThe Summerville Formation is exposed on the right for about the next\nhalf a mile. In the next three-quarters of a mile to Highland View the\nroadcuts are in the sandstone ledges of the Salt Wash Member of the\nMorrison Formation. Another half a mile through massive Salt Wash\nsandstones takes us to the second highest point on Rim Rock Drive\u2014the\ndivide between Monument and Ute Canyons, altitude 6,593 feet. From here\nwe may look far to the south across Glade Park to high Pi\u00f1on Mesa\u2014the\nhighest part of the Uncompahgre Plateau northwest of Unaweep Canyon,\nwhere the altitude is about 9,500 feet.\n  LIBERTY CAP TRAILHEAD\nHalfway down the hill to the south is a parking area on the left at the\nhead of Liberty Cap Trail, which goes eastward about 6 miles to Liberty\nCap\u2014a prominent conical point atop the Wingate cliff just west of the\nmouth of Ute Canyon, which appears on the left skyline of figure 38.\nFrom there, the trail descends about 2 miles to a gate in the boundary\nfence at the mouth of Ute Canyon. The roads connecting the gate with\nSouth Camp Road (fig. 3) were reported (1979) to be closed to foot\ntravel by private landowners, so hikers reaching this point must either\nretrace their steps to the parking area at the head of the Liberty Cap\ntrail, or return by a primitive trail up main Ute Canyon, turn right up\nthe west arm of the canyon, and regain Rim Rock Drive by a short\nswitchback trail noted on page 109. However, the Park Service hopes that\nin the future some sort of corridor can be established to connect the\ntrailhead with the nearby roads. Most of the \u201ctrail\u201d up Ute Canyon is\nthe normally dry channel of the creek, so hikers should watch out for\nflash floods. The round trip by Liberty Cap Trail alone is about 16\nmiles, and if the return trip is made by Ute Canyon the total distance\nis about 13 miles. Accordingly, hikers should allow a full day and carry\nfood and water.\n  GLADE PARK ROAD\nA quarter of a mile west of the Liberty Cap parking area in the west arm\nof Ute Canyon is a junction with a gravel road that leads 5 miles south\nto the Glade Park General Store and Post Office, where groceries, beer,\ngasoline, and fishing and camping supplies are available. Glade Park\nconnects with scenic roads leading east, west, and south. Later, we will\ncover in more detail a round trip from the intersection in Ute Canyon to\none near Cold Shivers Point, and another round trip from Glade Park\naround the head of No Thoroughfare Canyon and back to Grand Junction via\nthe Little Park Road.\nBut to continue with the trip through the Monument\u2014from the intersection\nwith the gravel road to Glade Park, Rim Rock Drive turns abruptly to the\nsoutheast and follows the west arm of Ute Canyon for some 3 or 4 miles,\npast many interesting points. For the next 1\u2153 miles to the first\nculvert, which crosses a large tributary, the roadcuts are in the\nSummerville Formation and Entrada Sandstone. The photographs in figures\n16 and 17 were taken looking north from the culvert and from just\nnorthwest of the culvert, respectively.\n  FLOOD\nOne day when my family and I were approaching the culvert from the west,\nwe heard a roar like an express train. Looking to the south we saw that\na severe thundershower was occurring on the headwaters in Glade Park, so\nwe raced ahead and parked east of the culvert just in time to see and\nhear a 4-foot wall of red water come roaring down the tributary, rolling\nboulders along as if they were basketballs. Unfortunately, we had no\ntime to ready or use a camera, so we simply raced down the road\nembankment and through the trees and brush to the north in time to see\nthe flood plunge eastward over a 350-foot cliff of the Wingate Sandstone\nto the canyon below. This illustrates the need for caution when\nfollowing or crossing \u201cdry\u201d washes in the desert in stormy weather or\nwhen there are storms in the distance.\n  UPPER UTE CANYON VIEW\nAbout two-tenths of a mile northeast of the culvert is Upper Ute Canyon\nView, which affords good views of the northeast cliff face of the west\narm of Ute Canyon.\n  FALLEN ROCK OVERLOOK\n  UTE CANYON TRAILHEAD\nFor the next 7\u00bd miles Rim Rock Drive is once again on a bench of the\nKayenta Formation between cliffs of the Entrada and Wingate Sandstones.\nFrom Upper Ute Canyon View the road goes southeastward along the canyon\nrim about three-tenths of a mile to a parking area. A short trail leads\ndown from the parking area to fenced Fallen Rock Overlook; the view\nshown in figure 35 is from this point. As noted in the caption of figure\n35, and on page 108, the Ute Canyon Trail zigzags down the slope from\nthe road a quarter of a mile southeast of the parking area, but there is\nno parking area at the trailhead, so it is safer to park at Fallen Rock\nOverlook and walk to the trailhead. The connection with this trail and\nthe Liberty Cap Trail also is discussed on page 108. On one hike down\nthis trail we saw two elk, which is a rare sight at such a low altitude,\nfor they generally stay on or near Pi\u00f1on Mesa.\n  UTE CANYON\nAbout a mile to the southeast, just beyond the steep dropoff on the\nleft, there is room to park, walk a short distance through the trees to\nthe east, and observe a fine view of main Ute Canyon, as shown in figure\n52. Just beyond on our right are the cliffs of the mottled\nsalmon-and-white Slick Rock Member overlain by the all white Moab\nMember, as shown in figure 18 and described in the accompanying text.\nHalf a mile southeast, where the road makes a gentle U-turn and\ncontinues northeastward, we reach the highest point on Rim Rock Drive at\nan altitude of about 6,640 feet. Note that the pi\u00f1on and juniper are\nlarger, and the bushes are larger and greener at this altitude, for the\naverage precipitation increases as we go higher.\n  LOWER UTE CANYON VIEW\nAbout a mile northeast of the highest point on the road is a large\nparking area on the left, from which a short, shaded trail leads to a\nfenced overlook called Lower Ute Canyon View, which faces the northwest\narm of Ute Canyon across the main canyon.\n    [Illustration: UTE CANYON, looking northeast from point described in\n    text. Note grass-covered alluvium in distant part of canyon floor.\n  RED CANYON OVERLOOK\nAbout half a mile beyond this parking area, we reach a small parking\narea at Red Canyon Overlook, from which the photograph shown in figure\n12 was taken. The dark green bush of Mormon Tea in the right foreground\nof figure 12 is one of the largest I have seen in the Monument. The\nreasons for the differences between the left and right walls of the\ncanyon are discussed on pages 79 and 80. The ripple-marked curbstones of\nwhite sandstone in the parking area were quarried from the Moab Member\nof the Entrada Sandstone northwest of Fruita Canyon, as noted on page\n  DS ROAD\n  COLD SHIVERS POINT\nAnother 2\u00bd miles around the south rim of Red Canyon and the head of\nColumbus Canyon takes us to the junction with the paved county road\nknown as the DS Road, which leads south and southwest to Glade Park and\nto the head of No Thoroughfare Canyon. This important intersection will\nbe included in trips through Glade Park and around the head of No\nThoroughfare Canyon, so it will be discussed later. Meanwhile, we will\ncontinue our trip eastward from this intersection. About a third of a\nmile to the northeast is a large parking area, with a path leading to a\nfenced overlook at the rim of Columbus Canyon for viewing Cold Shivers\nPoint\u2014perhaps the most aptly titled feature in the Monument (fig. 53). A\nprimitive path leads from the overlook to the toadstool-shaped platform\nat upper right, on which some visitors dare to stand, but not me. When\nthe old, steep Serpents Trail was the only route for autos to ascend\nfrom the East Entrance, barrels of water were kept at this parking area\nto quench the thirst of boiling radiators.\n  HEAD OF SERPENTS TRAIL\nAfter leaving the parking area, the downgrade on the Kayenta Formation\nbegins to steepen to the northeast until it becomes advisable to shift\ninto second gear. In about half a mile we descend a series of steep\nswitchbacks cut into the Wingate Sandstone on the steepening Ladder\nCreek monocline (figs. 8, 29), and we reach the present upper end of the\nold Serpents Trail (fig. 54), which is now an interesting foot trail. As\nnoted earlier, it is convenient to hike down this steep 2\u00bd-mile trail\nand to have one member of the party drive ahead and await the hikers at\nthe parking area in the Devils Kitchen Picnic Area, near the foot of the\ntrail. One of many rewarding views seen during the hike is shown in\nfigure 55, another was seen in figure 10.\n    [Illustration: COLD SHIVERS POINT, looking north from fenced\n    overlook on east edge of Columbus Canyon. Named feature is\n    toadstool-shaped rock at upper right. Note dark Proterozoic rocks in\n    canyon bottom. (Fig. 53)]\n    [Illustration: TOP OF OLD SERPENTS TRAIL, looking northeast from\n    switchbacks above tunnel. Top of trail is seen at sign on lower\n    right. Grand Mesa forms right skyline. (Fig. 54)]\n    [Illustration: LOOKING NORTHEAST FROM OLD SERPENTS TRAIL, before\n    1950 when the trail was still used by autos and trucks. One of John\n    Otto\u2019s old foot trails joins the old road at lower middle. Although\n    no thick lenses of sandstone appear in the Salt Wash Member of the\n    Morrison Formation in figure 21, in this view a lens about 50 feet\n    thick begins just around the corner near the base of the high bluff\n    across No Thoroughfare Canyon and is seen extending as far to the\n    left as the normally dry wash that drains the canyon. When water\n    flows down the wash after thundershowers (see p. 118) or from\n    melting snow, the sandstone lens takes in water (recharge) which\n    moves slowly down the dip of the lens to the northeast and supplies\n    several artesian wells. In turn, the light band of the Entrada\n    Sandstone beneath the cottonwood trees at the right middle and the\n    dark patch of Wingate Sandstone at the extreme lower right are\n    recharged in like manner, and they supply water to artesian wells to\n    the northeast. As the older and deeper sandstones on the right take\n    in water at higher altitudes, the water in them is under greater\n    artesian head when tapped by wells. If you think you see covered\n    wagons near the middle of the photograph arranged in a circle for\n    defense against attack by Indians, you are correct\u2014a Western movie\n    was about to be filmed. (Fig. 55)]\n    [Illustration: Petroglyph]\n    [Illustration: SOUTH PORTAL OF TUNNEL THROUGH WINGATE SANDSTONE, on\n    west side of No Thoroughfare Canyon above East Entrance. (Fig. 56)]\n  FOOT OF SERPENTS TRAIL\nJust beyond the lowest switchback shown in figure 54, we penetrate the\nWingate Sandstone through a tunnel, the south portal of which is shown\nin figure 56. After we drive through a deep cut in the Wingate Sandstone\njust south of the tunnel, we cross the entire red Chinle Formation, then\ndescend a series of switchbacks in old Proterozoic rocks. The Chinle\nFormation is crossed again near the foot of the hill, where it is about\n80 feet thick,[39] then we recross the Wingate Sandstone and Kayenta\nFormation to the parking area in the Devils Kitchen Picnic Area, near\nthe foot of the old Serpents Trail.\n  DEVILS KITCHEN\nAn improved marked trail leads southward from parking area at the foot\nof the Serpents Trail, crosses No Thoroughfare Canyon, and continues as\nan unimproved trail to the Devils Kitchen, a view of which is shown in\nfigure 57. The petroglyphs shown in figure 4 are northeast of this\nparking area. Those interested in seeing them should inquire at the\nranger station or checking station at the East Entrance.\n  EAST ENTRANCE\nJust beyond the parking area, near the foot of the old Serpents Trail, a\nroad turns left to a larger parking area for the Devils Kitchen Picnic\nArea, where covered tables, grills, and water are available. Just beyond\nwe pass the checking station and housing facilities for Monument\npersonnel at the East Entrance of the Monument. During the summer, fees\nare collected at this checking station from persons entering the\nMonument. A well just east of the housing area obtains water from the\nEntrada Sandstone to supply the houses and picnic area.\n    [Illustration: Petroglyph]\n    [Illustration: DEVILS KITCHEN, looking north from ridge in middle of\n    No Thoroughfare Canyon. An erosional remnant of the Wingate\n    Sandstone capped by the lowermost sandstone of the Kayenta\n    Formation. Photograph by T. F. Giles, U.S. Geological Survey. (Fig.\n                From the East Entrance to Grand Junction\n  SOUTH CAMP ROAD SHORTCUT\nThree fourths of a mile beyond the checking station, South Camp Road\nturns left and joins South Broadway 2\u00bd miles to the northwest. This\nprovides a fine shortcut for persons desirous of travelling back\nnorthwestward through The Redlands to regain the West Entrance of the\nMonument. The intersection of South Camp Road and South Broadway, a key\npoint on the trip \u201cFrom Grand Junction through The Redlands to the West\nEntrance of the Monument,\u201d is noted on page 89.\nBut let us continue our 3-mile return trip to Grand Junction, in order\nto point out several things of interest along Monument Road in the lower\npart of No Thoroughfare Canyon. As the canyon narrows just beyond the\nroad intersection, we see on both sides colorful badlands of the\nMorrison Formation capped by the rusty looking basal sandstones of the\nBurro Canyon Formation. Behind the building on the right just before the\nroad curves to the left is an artesian well 575 feet deep that taps both\nthe Entrada Sandstone and a sandstone lens in the Morrison\nFormation[40].\n  GAP IN ROCK RECORD\nAbout 2\u00bd miles below the checking station, we pass on the left the basal\nsandstone of the Burro Canyon Formation resting on the Morrison\nFormation, as shown in the lower left of figure 24. Just beyond we may\nlook up the hill to the left and see the 40-foot basal conglomerate of\nthe Dakota Sandstone resting unconformably on an old erosion surface\natop the Burro Canyon Formation.\n  FLOOD DAMAGE\nJust before we reach the T-intersection with the eastern segment of\nSouth Broadway we may still see on the right some of the destruction\ncaused by a devastating flood that roared down No Thoroughfare and other\ncanyons on September 7, 1978, as a result of what was termed the worst\ncloudburst to hit Glade Park, the Monument, and the Grand Valley since\n1958. A house on the flood plain just above the bridge was badly damaged\nand was filled with 4 feet of mud, and the Monument Road bridge across\nNo Thoroughfare Canyon nearest the intersection was washed out,\nnecessitating the rerouting of traffic to and from the East Entrance of\nthe Monument. Moral\u2014never build a house or even pitch a tent in a dry\nwash or arroyo in desert regions! Incidentally, indirect measurements by\nengineers of the U.S. Geological Survey indicated a discharge of 9,290\ncfs just above the washed out bridge in No Thoroughfare Canyon, and\n2,980 cfs in Red Canyon beneath the Broadway bridge.\n  SOUTH BROADWAY\nInasmuch as the bridge on Monument Road has long since been rebuilt, we\nwill cross it, turn right on South Broadway at the T-intersection, cross\nthe Redlands Power Canal (p. 88), and join Colorado Highway 340 at the\ntraffic light; thus, we complete a round trip \u201cFrom Grand Junction\nthrough The Redlands to the West Entrance of the Monument,\u201d \u201cThrough the\nMonument from West to East Entrances,\u201d and \u201cFrom the East Entrance to\nGrand Junction.\u201d\n  Through Glade Park from the Northwest Arm of Ute Canyon to Columbus\n  GLADE PARK ROAD\nA very pleasant 11-mile drive through Glade Park may be made from the\nintersection where Rim Rock Drive crosses the northwest arm of Ute\nCanyon (p. 108) to the intersection with the same drive on the rim of\nColumbus Canyon a quarter of a mile southwest of Cold Shivers Point (p.\n120). The name Glade Park refers not only to the Store and Post Office\nmentioned earlier, but also to a nearly flat farming and ranching area\nsouth of the Monument\u2014an area entirely different from the Monument or\nThe Redlands. Most of the cultivated part of Glade Park is underlain by\nnearly flat lying Entrada Sandstone which was weathered to a sandy soil,\nbut a few areas are underlain by the Morrison Formation. This drive\nshould appeal particularly to people spending from a few days to a week\nor more in the campground. For the more adventuresome, other interesting\nroads join Glade Park from several directions, as noted below.\nAfter leaving Rim Rock Drive at Ute Canyon, on a good gravelled road, we\ntraverse attractive, hilly, wooded country generally southward for about\na mile and climb some 300 feet to a flat area covered mainly by\nsagebrush and grass. About 3 miles south of the intersection, we see on\nthe left the leached white outcrops of the Entrada Sandstone shown in\nfigure 19.\n  GLADE PARK\nAnother 2 miles takes us to the Glade Park Store and Post Office at a\nfour-way intersection.\nAn improved, gravelled road leads westward through pleasant country some\n20 miles to the Utah State line, beyond which an unimproved road leads\neither to the Colorado or the Dolores Rivers. Future planning calls for\nimproving the Utah stretch of this road and for building a bridge across\neither the Colorado or Dolores Rivers to connect with scenic Utah\nHighway 128. If and when completed, this would afford a very scenic\nshortcut from Moab, Utah, to Grand Junction via the Little Park Road (to\nbe described).\nSouth from the four-way intersection an improved gravelled road takes us\nthrough wooded country, past lakes and campgrounds, to the summit of\nPi\u00f1on Mesa, as noted earlier.\n  GLADE PARK FAULT\nAlso, from the intersection a paved county road known as DS (south) Road\nleads eastward then northeastward through farming and ranching country 6\nmiles to the intersection with Rim Rock Drive near Cold Shivers Point.\nThree-fourths of a mile east of the Glade Park Store and Post Office the\nroad crosses the Glade Park fault (fig. 8) along which the Morrison and\nSummerville Formations on the right have dropped down with respect to\nthe Entrada Sandstone on the left. Here, the Entrada also has been\nleached to white.\n  LITTLE PARK ROAD\nAt 1\u00bd miles east of the Glade Park Store and Post Office is the\nintersection with the improved gravelled Little Park Road, which will be\ndescribed later. At 2\u00be miles beyond this intersection, the DS Road\nleaves the Entrada Sandstone and is on a wooded stretch of the Kayenta\nFormation the remaining 2 miles to Rim Rock Drive. The last one-tenth of\na mile is crooked and steep, so please slow down before reaching the\nstop sign at the intersection. Some years ago the brakes on a pickup\ntruck failed as the driver approached the stop sign, but he was lucky\nenough to jump out at the top of the cliff just before the truck plunged\nto the bottom of Columbus Canyon.\n       From Glade Park to Grand Junction Via the Little Park Road\n  GLADE PARK FAULT\nFrom the intersection 1\u00bd miles east of the Glade Park Store and Post\nOffice, let us turn southeast on the recently improved and gravelled\nLittle Park Road around the head of No Thoroughfare Canyon, which was\nadded to the Monument in 1978 (fig. 3). From the intersection it is\nabout 14 miles to Grand Junction by this route. In half a mile we reach\nthe new boundary of the Monument at a minor drainage divide, and as we\nstart down a steep hill beyond we may park on the right and look\nsoutheastward across No Thoroughfare Canyon along the Glade Park fault\n(fig. 58) which has produced the fishtail shape of the head of the\ncanyon, as shown in figures 8 and 59. A different view of the fault and\ncanyon head is shown by the stereoscopic pair of aerial photographs in\nfigure 59.\nThe Little Park Road closely follows the new Monument boundary around\nthe south end of No Thoroughfare Canyon, either on the Kayenta Formation\nor Entrada Sandstone, and affords good views into the canyon from\nseveral places. East of the southeast arm of the canyon, the road leaves\nthe boundary and goes northeastward about 4 miles to the end of the\nimproved part of the road, but the unimproved part is good, and the\nlower 5 miles is paved. On my geologic maps[41] of the area, I called\nthis road by its older name\u2014the Jacobs Ladder Road.\n  LADDER AND ROUGH CANYONS\nAbout a quarter of a mile from the end of the improved stretch, one may\nturn right on two tire tracks, travel about a quarter of a mile farther,\nand park near the junction of Rough and Ladder Canyons, where\ninteresting geology is reachable by short walks up Ladder Canyon or down\nRough Canyon. About a mile up Ladder Canyon is an interesting abandoned\nmica mine.[42]\n    [Illustration: GLADE PARK FAULT VIEWED FROM THE GROUND, crossing\n    head of No Thoroughfare Canyon. Looking southeast from Little Park\n    Road just southeast of new Monument boundary. Fault passes just to\n    right of white cliff of Wingate Sandstone near bottom of photograph\n    through notch in east wall of canyon. Note that surface to right\n    (south) of fault has dropped about 50 feet below left side. Grand\n    Mesa forms skyline. (Fig. 58)]\nFrom the left side of the road, about 9 miles northeast of our starting\npoint, we see the view shown in figure 60. About 2 miles farther north,\nLittle Park Road is paved through a suburban housing development all the\nway to The Redlands; there, we may turn right, cross the Gunnison River,\nand reach U.S. Highway 50; or we may turn left through Rosevale and\nreach Colorado Highway 340.\n    [Illustration: GLADE PARK FAULT VIEWED FROM THE AIR, crossing head\n    of No Thoroughfare Canyon from left to right. Land south of the\n    fault was dropped some 50 feet below that on the north side.\n    Primitive road around head of canyon has been improved and realined\n    since photographs were taken. The stereoscopic pair of aerial\n    photographs may be viewed without optical aids by those accustomed\n    to this procedure or by use of a simple double lens stereoscope,\n    such as the folding ones used by the armed forces during and after\n    World War II. Compare with the geologic map, figure 8. Photographs\n    taken in 1937 by U.S. Soil Conservation Service. (Fig. 59)]\n    [Illustration: LADDER CREEK MONOCLINE AND REDLANDS FAULT, looking\n    northwest from lookout point near Little Park Road. Telephoto view\n    of left half of this scene is shown in figure 29; photograph of\n    Morrison Formation shown in figure 21 was taken from point about a\n    mile farther north. (Fig. 60)]\n  R\u00e9sum\u00e9 of Geologic History and Relation to Other National Parks and\n                   Monuments in the Colorado Plateau\nIn the geologic story of the Monument discussed on pages 17 to 94, the\ngeologic processes and events leading to the Monument of today were told\nin the order in which they occurred; therefore, the details of the\ngeologic history have already been covered. Having finished this story\nand the trips through and around the Monument, let us see how the\ncolorful canyons, cliffs, and other erosion forms fit into the bigger\nscheme of things\u2014the geologic age and events of the Earth as a whole, as\ndepicted in figure 61. As shown in figure 7, the rock strata still\npreserved in the Monument range in age from Proterozoic to Cretaceous,\nor from about 1,500 million to 100 million years old\u2014a span of about\n1,400 million years. This seems an incredibly long time, until one\ncompares figures 7 and 61, and notes that the Earth is some 4,500\nmillion years old, and that the rock pile in the Monument is only about\na third the age of the Earth as a whole.\n    [Illustration: GEOLOGIC TIME SPIRAL, showing the sequence, names,\n    and ages of the geologic periods and epochs, and the evolution of\n    plant and animal life on land and in the sea. The primitive animals\n    that evolved in the sea during the vast Archean and Proterozoic Eons\n    left few traces in the rocks because they had not developed hard\n    parts, such as shells, but hard-shell or skeletal parts became\n    abundant during and after the Cambrian Period. This drawing was made\n    when the Geological Survey and most others used the term Precambrian\n    to embrace what is now included in the Archean and Proterozoic Eons.\n    The end of the Archean Eon and beginning of the Proterozoic Eon has\n    been placed at about 2,500 million years ago. Also, because of more\n    recent radiometric dating, the ages of the boundaries between some\n    of the geologic periods and epochs have been changed slightly. Of\n    most concern to this report, the boundary between the Pliocene and\n    Pleistocene Epochs has been changed from 3 million to 2 million\n    years. Drawn by John R. Stacy originally for inclusion in a report\n  The Earth is very old\u20144.5 billion years or more according to recent\n  estimates. Most of the evidence for an ancient Earth is contained in\n  the rocks that form the Earth\u2019s crust. The rock layers themselves\u2014like\n  pages in a long and complicated history\u2014record the surface-shaping\n  events of the past, and buried within them are traces of life\u2014the\n  plants and animals that evolved from organic structures that existed\n  perhaps 3 billion years ago.\n  Also contained in rocks once molten are radioactive elements whose\n  isotopes provide Earth scientists with an atomic clock. Within these\n  rocks, \u201cparent\u201d isotopes decay at a predictable rate to form\n  \u201cdaughter\u201d isotopes. By determining the relative amounts of parent and\n  daughter isotopes, the age of these rocks can be calculated.\n  Thus, the results of studies of rock layers (stratigraphy), and of\n  fossils (paleontology), coupled with the ages of certain rocks as\n  measured by atomic clocks (geochronology), attest to a very old Earth!\nBut this is not the whole story. As indicated earlier, younger Mesozoic\nand Tertiary rocks more than 1 mile thick that once covered the area\nhave been carried away by erosion, and, if we include these, the span is\nincreased by another 50 million years or so.\nIf we consider the geologic formations that make up the national parks\n(N.P.), national monuments (N.M.) (excluding small historical or\narchaeological ones), Monument Valley, San Rafael Swell, and Glen Canyon\nNational Recreation Area, all in the Colorado Plateau, it becomes\napparent that certain formations or groups of formations play starring\nroles in some parks or monuments, some play supporting roles, and in a\nfew places the entire cast of rocks gets about equal billing. Let us\ncompare them and see how and where they fit into the \u201cGeologic Time\nSpiral\u201d (fig. 61).\nDinosaur N.M. and Colorado N.M., with exposed rocks ranging in age from\nProterozoic to Cretaceous, cover the greatest time spans (nearly 2\nbillion years), but most of the rocks are missing at Colorado N.M., as\nnoted below. Dinosaur N.M. has one unit\u2014the Jurassic Morrison\nFormation\u2014in the starring role, for this unit contains the many dinosaur\nfossils that give the monument its name and fame, although there are\nseveral older units in supporting roles. Grand Canyon N.P. is next, with\nrocks ranging in age from Proterozoic through Permian (excluding the\nQuaternary lava flows), but here is truly a team effort, for the entire\ncast gets about equal billing. Canyonlands N.P. stands third in this\ncategory, with rocks ranging from Pennsylvanian to Jurassic, but we\nwould have to give top billing to the Permian Cedar Mesa Sandstone\nMember of the Cutler Formation, from which The Needles, The Grabens, and\nmost of the arches were sculptured. The Triassic Wingate Sandstone and\nthe Triassic(?) Kayenta Formation get second billing for their roles in\nforming and preserving Island in the Sky and other high mesas. Now let\nus consider other areas with only one or few players in the cast,\nbeginning at the bottom of the time spiral. Black Canyon of the Gunnison\nN.M., cut entirely in rocks of early Proterozoic age with only a veneer\nof much younger rocks, obviously has but one star in its cast. Colorado\nN.M. contains rocks ranging from Proterozoic to Cretaceous (equal to\nDinosaur in this respect), but Colorado is unique in that all rocks of\nthe long Paleozoic Era and some others are missing from the cast. Of\nthose that remain, the Triassic Wingate and the Triassic(?) Kayenta are\nthe stars, with strong support from the Jurassic Entrada Sandstone and\nfrom the Proterozoic rocks, which floor the U-shaped canyons.\nAll the bridges in Natural Bridges N.M. were carved from the Permian\nCedar Mesa Sandstone Member of the Cutler Formation, also one of the\nstars in Canyonlands N.P. In Canyon de Chelly (pronounced dee shay) N.M.\nand Monument Valley (neither a national park nor a national monument, as\nit is owned and administered by the Navajo Tribe), the De Chelly\nSandstone Member of the Cutler Formation\u2014a Permian member younger than\nthe Cedar Mesa\u2014plays the starring role.\nWupatki N.M. near Flagstaff, Ariz., stars the Triassic Moenkopi\nFormation. Petrified Forest N.P. (which now includes part of the Painted\nDesert) has but one star\u2014the Triassic Chinle Formation, in which are\nfound many petrified logs and stumps of ancient trees. The\nTriassic-Jurassic Glen Canyon Group, which includes the Triassic Wingate\nSandstone, the Triassic(?) Kayenta Formation, and the\nTriassic(?)-Jurassic Navajo Sandstone, receives top billing in recently\nenlarged Capitol Reef N.P., but the Triassic Moenkopi and Chinle\nFormations enjoy supporting roles.\nThe Triassic(?)-Jurassic Navajo Sandstone, which has a supporting role\nin Arches N.P., is the undisputed star of Zion N.P., Rainbow Bridge\nN.M., and Glen Canyon National Recreation Area. The Navajo also forms\nthe impressive reef at the east edge of the beautiful San Rafael Swell,\na dome, or closed anticline, now crossed by Highway I-70 between Green\nRiver and Fremont Junction, Utah.\nAs we journey upward in the time spiral (fig. 61), we come to the\nJurassic Entrada Sandstone, which stars in Arches N.P., with help from\nthe underlying Navajo Sandstone, and a supporting cast of both older and\nyounger rocks. The Entrada also forms the grotesque erosion forms called\n\u201choodoos and goblins\u201d in Goblin Valley State Park, north of Hanksville,\nUtah.\nMoving ever upward in the spiral, we come to the Cretaceous\u2014the age of\nthe starring Mesaverde Group, in which the caves of Mesaverde N.P. were\nformed, and which now house beautifully preserved ruins once occupied by\nthe Anasazi (the ancient people who once dwelt in many parts of the\nPlateau).\nThis brings us up to the Tertiary Period, during the early part of which\nthe pink limestones and shales of the Paleocene and Eocene Wasatch\nFormation were laid down in inland basins. Beautifully sculptured\ncliffs, pinnacles, and caves of the Wasatch star in Bryce Canyon N.P.\nand in nearby Cedar Breaks N.M. This concludes our climb up the time\nspiral, except for Quaternary volcanos and some older volcanic features\nat Sunset Crater N.M., near Flagstaff, Ariz.\nThus, one way or another, many rock units formed during the last couple\nof billion years have performed on the stage of the Colorado Plateau\nand, hamlike, still lurk in the wings eagerly awaiting your applause to\nrecall them to the footlights. Do not let them down\u2014visit and enjoy the\nnational parks and monuments of the Plateau, for they probably are the\ngreatest collection of scenic wonderlands in the world.\nI am grateful to many friends and colleagues not only for help on the\npresent report, but also for help on the two preceding reports which\nmade this one possible. I refer to my Professional Paper 451,[43] which\nsupplied the detailed geologic data and to the first popular-style\nbooklet.[44] First of all, I must acknowledge the great help rendered by\nmembers of my family\u2014my eldest son Bill for serving as my unpaid field\nassistant for most of the detailed mapping of the Grand Junction area,\nand my two younger sons Terry and Bob for similar services during the\nlast phases of the fieldwork. I am especially indebted to my wife Ruth\nfor material assistance in all the fieldwork, including the road logging\nand the color photography for the present report.\nI am grateful to several colleagues of the Geological Survey and\nNational Park Service for help, data, or reviews of all three reports\nnoted, and to members of my family for reviewing both popular-style\nreports.\nFor reviewing the present report I am especially indebted to David V.\nHarris, Emeritus Professor of Geology, Colorado State University; Harry\nA. Tourtelot, Geologist, U.S. Geological Survey, for reviewing both\npopular-style reports and contributing petrographic studies to the\ndetailed report; and to my wife, Ruth.\nThe comments and criticisms of all reviewers were carefully considered\nand most were adopted, but in some places I have preferred to state\nthings in my own way, and have included topics that seemingly were of\nmore interest to me than to some of the reviewers. The responsibility\nfor the form and content of this report thus remains mine.\nListed below in alphabetical order are the reports referred to in this\nreport. In the next section are listed reports for additional reading,\nwhich I hope will be of general interest to most readers of this report.\n  Beckwith, E. G., 1854, Report of explorations for a route for the\n          Pacific Railroad: U.S. Pacific R.R. Explor., v. 2, 128 p.\n  Cashion, W. B., 1973, Geologic and structure map of the Grand Junction\n          Quadrangle, Colorado: U.S. Geol. Survey Misc. Inv. Ser. Map\n  Cater, F. W., 1970, Geology of the salt anticline region in\n          southwestern Colorado: U.S. Geol. Survey Prof. Paper 637, 80\n  Colorado State Planning Commission, 1959, Colorado Year Book,\n  Dellenbaugh, F. S., 1902, The romance of the Colorado River: New York,\n          G. P. Putnam\u2019s Sons, 399 p. [reprinted 1962 by Rio Grande\n          Press, Chicago, Ill.]\n  Hamilton, D. L., 1956, Colorado National Monument, past and present:\n          Intermountain Assoc. Petroleum Geologists, 7th Ann. Field\n  Hansen, W. R., 1969, The geologic story of the Uinta Mountains [with\n          graphics by John R. Stacy]: U.S. Geol. Survey Bull. 1291, 144\n  Hayden, F. V., 1877, Report of progress for the year 1875: U.S. Geol.\n          and Geog. Survey Terr., embracing Colorado and parts of\n          adjacent territories, 827 p., 70 pls., 67 figs.\n  Hunt, C. B., 1969, Geologic history of the Colorado River, _in_ The\n          Colorado River region and John Wesley Powell: U.S. Geol.\n  Jennings, J. D., 1970, Canyonlands\u2014aborigines: Naturalist, v. 21,\n  Lohman, S. W., 1960, Geology of west-central Colorado, _in_ Guide to\n          the geology of Colorado: Geol. Soc. American, Rocky Mtn.\n          Assoc. Geologists, and Colorado Sci. Soc., p. 66, 82-84 [with\n  \u2014\u2014 1961, Abandonment of Unaweep Canyon, Mesa County, Colorado, by\n          capture of the Colorado and Gunnison Rivers: U.S. Geol. Survey\n  \u2014\u2014 1963, Geologic map of the Grand Junction area, Colorado: U.S. Geol.\n          Survey Misc. Inv. Ser. Map I-404.\n  \u2014\u2014 1965a, Geology and artesian water supply of the Grand Junction\n          area, Colorado: U.S. Geol. Survey Prof. Paper 451, 149 p.\n  \u2014\u2014 1965b, The geologic story of Colorado National Monument [with\n          graphics by John R. Stacy]: Fruita, Colo., Colorado and Black\n          Canyon Natural History Assoc., 56 p.\n  \u2014\u2014 1974, The geologic story of Canyonlands National Park, with\n          graphics by John R. Stacy: U.S. Geol. Survey Bull. 1327, 126\n  \u2014\u2014 1975, The geologic story of Arches National Park, with graphics by\n          John R. Stacy: U.S. Geol. Survey Bull. 1393, 113 p.\n  Look, Al, 1961, John Otto and the Colorado National Monument: Denver,\n          Colo., Denver Westerners, Inc., 80 p., [second edition 1962 by\n          Sandstone Publishing Co., Grand Junction, Colo.].\n  Newman, W. L., 1976, Geologic time\u2014the age of the Earth: U.S. Geol.\n  Pipiringos, G. N., and O\u2019Sullivan, R. B., 1975, Chert pebble\n          unconformity at the top of the Navajo Sandstone in\n          southeastern Utah, _in_ Canyonlands Country, Eighth annual\n          field conference, Sept. 22-25, 1975, Guidebook: Durango,\n          Colo., Four Corners Geol. Soc., p. 149-156.\n  Potter, R. M., and Rossman, G. R., 1977, Desert varnish: The\n          importance of clay minerals: Science, v. 196, no. 4297, p.\n  Williams, P. L., 1964, Geology, structure, and uranium deposits of the\n          Moab Quadrangle, Colorado and Utah: U.S. Geol. Survey Misc.\n  Wormington, H. M., and Lister, Robert H., 1956, Archaeological\n          investigation on the Uncompahgre Plateau in west-central\n          Colorado: Denver Mus. Nat. History Proc., no. 2, 129 p., 69\n  Wright, J. C., Shawe, D. R., and Lohman, S. W., 1962, Definition of\n          members of the Jurassic Entrada Sandstone in east-central Utah\n          and west-central Colorado: Bull. Am. Assoc. Petroleum\n  Cater, F. W., 1966, Age of the Uncompahgre uplift and Unaweep Canyon,\n          west-central Colorado: U.S. Geol. Survey Prof. Paper 550-C, p.\n  Everhart, W. C., 1972, The National Park Service, Praeger Library of\n          U.S. Government Departments and Agencies No. 13: New York,\n          Praeger Publishers, p. i-xii, 1-276.\n  Follansbee, Robert, 1929, Upper Colorado River and its utilization:\n          U.S. Geol. Survey Water-Supply Paper 617, 394 p.\n  Gilluly, James, Waters, A. C., and Woodford, A. O., 1975, Principles\n          of Geology [4th ed.]: San Francisco, W. H. Freeman & Co., 527\n  Hansen, W. R., 1965, The Black Canyon of the Gunnison, today and\n          yesterday: U.S. Geol. Survey Bull. 1191, 76 p.\n  Harris, D. V., 1978, The geologic story of the national parks and\n          monuments [2nd ed.]: Ft. Collins, Colo., Colo. State Univ.\n          Foundation Press, 325 p.\n  Hunt, C. B., 1956, Cenozoic geology of the Colorado Plateau: U.S.\n          Geol. Survey Prof. Paper 279, 99 p.\n  Keefer, W. R., 1971, The geologic story of Yellowstone National Park,\n          illustrated by John R. Stacy: U.S. Geol. Survey Bull. 1347, 92\n  Look, Al, 1951, In my back yard: The Univ. of Denver Press, 318 p.\n  \u2014\u2014 1955, 1,000 million years on the Colorado Plateau, land of uranium:\n          Denver, Colo., Bell Publications, 344 p.\n  Miller, P. H., and Coale, B. V., 1969, Colorado National Monument, a\n          fantastic landscape sculptured by erosion: Fruita, Colo., The\n          Colorado-Black Canyon of the Gunnison Nature Assoc., Inc., 73\n  Peale, A. C., 1877, Geological report on the Grand River district\n          [Colorado], _in_ F. V. Hayden, U.S. Geol. Survey of the Terr.,\n    [Illustration: Petroglyphs]\n[1]Reports referred to in this and some of the subsequent footnotes are\n    listed under \u201cReferences\u201d by authors in alphabetical order, followed\n    by year of publication, and other pertinent data. The report just\n    referred to is listed as Lohman, 1965a. Other reports of interest\n    are similarly listed under \u201cAdditional reading.\u201d\n[2]Lohman, 1965b.\n[5]For a very interesting account of this colorful character, see Look,\n    1961-62. My statements regarding Otto were taken mainly from this\n    account.\n[6]So-called buffalo are actually bison.\n[8]Just west of the T-intersection of Monument Road and the eastern\n    segment of South Broadway.\n[9]Wormington and Lister, 1956, p. 81, 119-122.\n[10]Archaeological survey of Colorado National Monument, 1963, by George\n    Stroh, Jr., and George H. Ewing, with laboratory assistance by\n    William D. Wade. Unpublished duplicated manuscript, 62 p., map,\n    March 1964. For copies of this and other reports or discussions of\n    the subject, or both, I am greatly indebted to: Adrienne Anderson,\n    Regional Archaeologist, Rocky Mountain Region, National Park\n    Service, Denver; Bruce Rippeteau, State Archaeologist, Denver; John\n    Crouch, District Archaeologist, Bureau of Land Management, Grand\n    Junction; H. Marie Wormington, Anthropologist Emeritus, Denver\n    Museum of Natural History; and Al Look, Grand Junction. Copies of\n    this and other unpublished reports referred to are on file at the\n    headquarters of the Monument.\n[11]Many of the cliff faces of the Wingate Sandstone, and in parts of\n    the Plateau other sandstones also, are darkened or blackened by\n    desert varnish, a natural pigment of iron and manganese oxides,\n    silica, and clay. (See fig. 32.) The varnish is darker on cliff\n    faces that have been standing longer. The prehistoric inhabitants of\n    the canyon country learned that effective and enduring designs could\n    be created simply by chiseling through the thin dark layer to reveal\n    the buff, tan, or pink sandstone beneath. These petroglyphs were\n    chiseled when the rock face was vertical; afterwards the slab fell\n    to a horizontal position.\n[12]The Fremont people were mainly hunters who roamed the Plateau around\n[13]Taken mainly from Colorado State Planning Commission, 1959,\n    Hamilton, 1956, Beckwith, 1854, and Hayden, 1877.\n[14]Taken largely from Dellenbaugh, 1902.\n[15]Information regarding Kodel and his mine was obtained mainly from Al\n    Look and C. Frank Moore of Grand Junction and Mrs. Irving C. Beard\n    of Fruita.\n[16]For details see Lohman, 1965a.\n[17]See Lohman, 1974.\n[18]The Geological Survey has divided the Precambrian into, from oldest\n    to youngest, the Archean and Proterozoic Eons, with the boundary at\n    2,500 million years. The two eons now constitute Precambrian time.\n[19]Potter and Rossman, 1977.\n[20]According to Robert A. Cadigan, U.S. Geological Survey.\n[21]See Pipiringos and O\u2019Sullivan, 1975.\n[22]See Wright, Shawe, and Lohman, 1962.\n[23]Pipiringos and O\u2019Sullivan, 1975.\n[24]According to Fred Peterson, U.S. Geological Survey.\n[25]Wright, Shawe, and Lohman, 1962; Lohman, 1975.\n[26]Paul L. Williams, U.S. Geological Survey, told me in November 1978\n    that he observed H\u2082S-bearing spring water leaching the color from\n    both the Entrada and Wingate Sandstones above Tabeguache Creek some\n    8 or 10 miles north of Nucla, Colo., and from the Wingate alone\n    along Onion Creek in eastern Utah.\n[28]Study of a fauna of small vertebrates from the late Jurassic\n    Morrison Formation of western Colorado, by George C. Callison, 21\n    pages, June 1978.\n[29]_A_, modified from Gilmore, courtesy U.S. National Museum; _B_,\n    modified from Gilmore, courtesy Carnegie Museum; _C_, modified from\n    Mathew, courtesy American Museum of Natural History; and _D_,\n    modified from Romer, after Marsh and Gilmore, courtesy University of\n    Chicago Press.\n[30]From information obtained in several discussions with John R.\n    Donnell. U.S. Geological Survey.\n[34]In the following sections the small numbered triangles in the right\n    margin refer to key points along the trip routes. Figure 3 shows the\n    locations of these key points. These numbers should be especially\n    helpful if the reader happens to follow the road guides in reverse.\n[35]One cfs, or one ft\u00b3s\u207b\u00b9, = 448.8 gallons a minute or 2446.6 cubic\n    meters a day.\n   Italic page numbers indicate major references or pre-eminent views\n  Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Monument,                 38, 128\n  Brushy Basin Member, Morrison Formation,                     47, 90, 96\n  Canyon de Chelly National Monument,                                 129\n  Denver and Rio Grande Western Railroad,                              85\n  Formations, rock. _See_ Rock formations.\n  Gap in the Rock Record. _See_ Unconformities.\n  Glade Park General Store and Post Office,                       13, 108\n  Glen Canyon National Recreation Area,                          128, 129\n  Grand Junction Chamber of Commerce,                                   1\n  Great Sand Dunes National Monument,                                  29\n  Highways. _See_ Roads.\n      _See also_ Proterozoic rocks.\n  Monoclines. _See_ Folds.\n  Museum, Historical Museum and Institute of Western Colorado,          4\n  Natural Bridges National Monument,                                  129\n  Precambrian rocks. _See_ Proterozoic rocks.\n  Road guides. _See_ Trip guides.\n  Salt Wash Member, Morrison Formation,                 _47_, 90, 94, 107\n  Trip guides, East Entrance to Grand Junction,                       118\n    [Illustration: U. S. Department of the Interior, March 3, 1849]\n\u2014Retained publication information from the printed edition: this eBook\n  is public-domain in the country of publication.\n\u2014Corrected a few palpable typos.\n\u2014Included a transcription of the text within some images.\n\u2014Renumbered footnotes, and modified references to them accordingly.\n\u2014In the text versions only, text in italics is delimited by\n  _underscores_.\n\u2014The HTML version contains relative hyperlinks to these companion\n  volumes, so that offline copies can be interlinked:\n\u2014Canyonlands National Park, Gutenberg eBook #51048,\n\u2014Arches National Park, Gutenberg eBook #51116.\nEnd of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Geologic Story of Colorado\nNational Monument, by S. W. Lohman\n*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GEOLOGIC STORY--COLORADO NAT. 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{"source_document": "", "creation_year": 1937, "culture": " English\n", "content": "Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Dave Morgan and the Online\n    [Illustration: Uncaptioned]\n               Southwest Parks and Monuments Association\n  Copyright 1961 by the Southwestern Monuments Association. All rights\n  reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without\n  permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may\n  quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine or\n  newspaper.\n           Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 61-11291\n               Southwest Parks and Monuments Association\n             (formerly Southwestern Monuments Association)\n                Printed in the United States of America\n                Arizona Lithographers \u00b7 Tucson, Arizona\nWith this booklet, as with _Mammals of the Southwest Deserts_, we are\nindebted to Dr. E. L. Cockrum, Assistant Professor of Zoology at the\nUniversity of Arizona who has checked the manuscript for accuracy. We\nare also grateful to him for offering suggestions and criticisms which\nhave added materially to its interest.\nThe writer would also like to voice his appreciation to Ed Bierly whose\nmagnificent illustrations adorn these pages. His is a talent with which\nit is a privilege to be associated.\nFinally our thanks to the editor and his staff. It is not an easy task\nto combine text with illustrations, nor to match space with type, yet it\nhas been done with feeling and precision.\nTogether, we hope that you will approve of our efforts. If through this\nbooklet you gain a better understanding of the mammals that share the\ngreat outdoors with us, or if through it you should become aware of the\nurgent necessity of preserving some of our wild creatures, (and wild\nplaces), now before it is too late; we shall indeed be well repaid.\n      Tassel-eared squirrel (Abert\u2019s squirrel)                         31\n      Spruce squirrel, Pine squirrel (Douglas squirrel, chickaree)     39\n  Carnivores (Including the Insectivores and Chiropterans)             79\n    [Illustration: Life Zones]\n    ELEVATION                         PRECIPITATION\n       11,000    HUDSONIAN ZONE         _spruce_          _red squirrel_\n        9,000     CANADIAN ZONE      _quaking aspen_         _beaver_\n        8,000    TRANSITION ZONE      _tassel-eared\n  [1]THIS BOOKLET DESCRIBES MAMMALS OF THE SOUTHWEST WHICH LIVE IN THE\n          LIFE ZONES ABOVE THE LOW DESERT.\n    SEE FLOWERS OF THE SOUTHWEST MOUNTAINS FOR PLANTS OF THESE ZONES.\n  [2]SEE FLOWERS OF THE SOUTHWEST MESAS FOR PLANTS OF THIS ZONE.\n  [3]SEE MAMMALS OF THE SOUTHWEST DESERTS FOR MAMMALS OF THESE ZONES.\n    SEE FLOWERS OF THE SOUTHWEST DESERTS FOR PLANTS OF THIS ZONE.\n                        _Geographic Limitations_\nThe only point in the United States at which four states adjoin is where\nUtah, Colorado, Arizona, and New Mexico come together. With adjacent\nportions of California, Nevada, and Texas, they contain all of our\nSouthwestern Desert. Arizona and New Mexico especially, are known as\ndesert States and for the most part deserve that appellation. Scattered\nover this desert country as though carelessly strewn by some giant hand\nare some of the highest and most beautiful mountains in our Nation. They\nmay occur as isolated peaks magnificent in their loneliness, or as short\nranges that continue but a little way before sinking to the level of the\ndesert. On the other hand it is in Colorado that the Rocky Mountains\nreach their greatest height before merging with the high country in New\nMexico, and all of the States mentioned have at least one range of major\nsize.\nTwo great highways cross this area from East to West. U.S. 66,\n\u201cMainstreet of America,\u201d goes by way of Albuquerque and Flagstaff to Los\nAngeles; farther north U.S. 50 winds through the mountains from Pueblo\nto Salt Lake City and terminates at San Francisco. Significantly, they\nmeet at St. Louis on their eastward course, and here for the moment we\ndigress from geography to history.\nSt. Louis in 1800 was a brawling frontier town. Strategically located at\nthe point where the Missouri River meets the Mississippi, it was the\njumping off place for those hardy souls adventurous enough to forsake\nthe comforts of civilization for the unknown perils of the West. Already\nSt. Louis was one of the fur centers of the world. Fashions of the day\ndecreed that top hats be worn by men. The finest hats were made of\nbeaver fur and no self-respecting dandy could be content with less.\nTrapping parties ascended the Missouri River as far as the mountains of\nMontana in search of pelts with which to supply the demand. When the\nanimals became scarce in more accessible areas, trappers turned their\nattention to the mountains of New Mexico and Colorado. Hardships of the\noverland route, coupled with danger of attack by hostile Indians,\ndiscouraged all but the most hardy of a rugged breed. These \u201cMountain\nMen\u201d as they became known, traveled in small parties with all the\nstealth and cunning of the Indians themselves. Gaunt from weeks of\ntravel across the plains, they could rest in the Spanish settlement of\nSanta Fe for a few days before vanishing into the mountains. On the\nreturn trip they might again visit the Spanish pueblo or, eager for the\nnight life of St. Louis, strike directly eastward across the prairies.\nToday\u2019s highways, while not following their trails directly, certainly\nparallel them to a great degree.\nLittle is known today of these early adventurers. A few written accounts\nhave been printed, meager records of their catches have been noted, and\nhere and there crude initials and dates carved on isolated canyon walls\nattest their passing. Their conquest of the West has faded into oblivion\nbut it must be regarded as the opening wedge of American progress into\nthe Southwest.\n                   _Mountains as Wildlife Reservoirs_\nToday\u2019s traveler spans in hours distances across these same routes that\ntook weary weeks of heartbreaking toil a century ago. As he rides in\ncushioned ease he seldom pauses to reflect on the changes that have\ntaken place since those early days. The great herds of bison with their\nattendant packs of wolves have vanished and in their place white-faced\ncattle graze on the level prairies. In the foothills the pronghorns have\ntaken their last stand. Cities have sprung up on the camping sites of\nnomadic tribes that roamed the whole area between the Mississippi River\nand the Rocky Mountains. Only the mountains seem the same.\nIn winter these massive ranges form a barrier against the storms that\nsweep in from the northwest. More important\u2014these great storehouses of\nour natural resources that in early days meant only gold and furs, and\nperhaps sudden death to the pioneers, have now been unlocked by their\ndescendants. The glitter of gold and the glamour of furs pales when\ncontrasted with the untold values that have since been taken out in the\nbaser metals and lumber. This phase too is now coming to an end. It is\nbecoming evident that in the face of our ever increasing population\nthese natural playgrounds are destined to become a buffer against the\ntensions that we, as one of the most highly civilized peoples of the\nworld, undergo in our daily life. Within another century they will\nrepresent one of the few remaining opportunities for many millions of\nAmericans to get close to nature. As such the proper development and\npreservation of mountainous areas and their values is of vital\nimportance to our Nation.\nMountains of the Southwestern States have been formed by three major\nagencies. These are, in order of importance, shrinkage of the earth\u2019s\ninterior to form wrinkles on the surface; faulting, with subsequent\nerosion of exposed surfaces; and volcanic action. The first method is\nresponsible for most of the large ranges, such as the coastal mountains\nof California and the Rocky Mountains. Faulting is responsible for many\nof the high plateau areas where one side may be a high rim or cliff and\nthe other a gently sloping incline. The Mogollon Rim, extending across a\npart of Arizona and into New Mexico, is a classic example in this\ncategory. Volcanic action may result in great masses of igneous rock\nbeing extruded through cracks in the earth\u2019s surface or it may take the\nform of violent outbursts in one comparatively small area. Several\nmountain regions in Arizona and New Mexico are covered with huge fields\nof extruded lava. Capulin Mountain in New Mexico is an example of a\nrecent volcano which built up an almost perfect cone of cinders and\nlava. Less noticeable than the mountains, but important nevertheless,\nare the tablelands of the Southwest. These mesas, too high to be typical\nof the desert, and in most cases too low to be considered as mountains,\npartake of the characteristics of both.\nThe mountains of the Southwest have been compared to islands rising\nabove the surface of a sea of desert. This is an apt comparison for not\nonly do they differ materially from the hot, low desert in climate, but\nalso in flora and fauna. Few species of either plants or animals living\nat these higher altitudes could survive conditions on the desert floor\nwith any more success than land animals could take to the open sea.\nTheir death from heat and aridity would only be more prolonged than that\nby drowning. Thus certain species isolated on mountain peaks are often\nas restricted in range as though they actually were surrounded by water.\nAt times this results in such striking adaptation to local conditions\nthat some common species become hardly recognizable. This is the\nexception to the rule however; most of the animals in this book are\neither of the same species as those in the Northern States or so closely\nallied that to the casual observer they will seem the same. Conditions\nthat enable these species ordinarily associated with the snowy plains of\nthe Midwest and the conifer forests of the North to live in the hot\nSouthwest are brought about either directly or indirectly by altitude.\nThere are in this nucleus of four States a total of six life zones, (See\nmap on page x.) The two lowest, the Lower and Upper Sonoran Life Zones,\nrange from sea level to a maximum elevation of about 7000 feet. These\ntwo have been covered in the book \u201cMammals of the Southwest Deserts.\u201d\nThe remaining four\u2014Transition, Canadian, Hudsonian, and Alpine Life\nZones\u2014will furnish the material for this book. The names of these zones\nare self explanatory, because they are descriptive of those regions\nwhose climates they approximate. Unlike the two life zones of the\ndesert, which merge almost imperceptibly together, these upper zones are\nmore sharply defined. They may often be identified at a great distance\nby their distinctive plant growth. It should be noted that plant species\nare even more susceptible to environmental factors than animals and are\nrestricted to well defined areas within the extremes of temperature and\nmoisture best suited to their individual needs. Thus each life zone has\nits typical plant species, and since animals in turn are dependent on\ncertain plants for food or cover, one can often predict many of the\nspecies to be found in an individual area.\nThe Transition Life Zone in the Southwest usually lies at an altitude of\nbetween 7000 and 8000 feet. It encompasses the change from low trees and\nshrubs of the open desert to dense forest of the higher elevations. It\nis characterized by open forests of ponderosa pine usually intermingled\nwith scattered thickets of Gambel oak. These trees are of a brighter\ngreen than the desert growth but do not compare with the deeper color of\nthe firs that grow at a higher elevation.\nThe Canadian Life Zone begins at an altitude of about 8000 feet and\nextends to approximately 9500 feet. The Douglas-fir must be considered\nthe outstanding species in this zone although the brilliant autumn color\nof quaking aspens provides more spectacular identification of this area\nduring the fall. Through the winter months when this tree has shed its\nleaves, the groves show up as gray patches among the dark green firs. At\nthis elevation there is considerable snow during winter and\ncorrespondingly heavy rainfall in summer months. Under these favorable\nconditions there is usually a colorful display of wildflowers late in\nthe spring.\nThe Hudsonian Life Zone is marked by a noticeable decrease in numbers of\nplant species. At this altitude, (9500 to 11,500 feet), the winters are\nsevere and summers of short duration. This is the zone of white fir\nwhich grows tall and slim so to better shed its seasonal burden of snow\nand sleet. In the more sheltered places spruce finds a habitat suited to\nits needs. Near the upper edge of the Hudsonian Life Zone the trees\nbecome stunted and misshapen and finally disappear entirely. This is\ntimberline; the beginning of the Alpine Life Zone, or as it often\ncalled, the Arctic-Alpine Life Zone.\nHere is a world of barren rock and biting cold. At 12,000 feet and above\nthe eternal snows lie deep on the peaks. Yet, even though at first\nglance there seems to be little evidence of life of any kind, a close\nscrutiny will reveal low mat-like plants growing among the exposed rocks\nand tiny paths leading to burrows in the rock slides. Among the larger\nmammals there are few other than the mountain sheep that can endure the\nrigors of this inhospitable region.\nThese are the zones of the Southwest uplands. Altitudes given are\napproximate and apply to such mountain ranges as the San Francisco Peaks\nof Arizona and the Sangre de Cristo Mountains in New Mexico. As one\ntravels farther north the zones descend ever lower until in the Far\nNorth the Arctic-Alpine Life Zone is found at sea level. Since climate\nmore than any other factor, determines the types of plants and animals\nthat can live in a given area it is only natural that on these mountain\nislands many species entirely foreign to the surrounding deserts are\nfound at home. Though it would seem that because of the relative\nabundance of water at higher elevations the upland species would have\nthe better environment, this is not entirely true. Balanced against this\nadvantage are the severe winters which, in addition to freezing\ntemperatures, usher in a period of deep snows and famine. Even though\nmany species show a high degree of adaptation to these conditions, an\nespecially long or cold winter season will result in the death of weaker\nindividuals.\nThe effects of man\u2019s presence on the upland species is perhaps not as\nserious as on those of the desert. Though he has been instrumental in\nupsetting the balance of nature everywhere, it has been chiefly through\nagriculture and grazing. Because of the rough broken character of much\nhigh country in the Southwest the first is impossible in many cases and\nthe second only partially successful. There are other factors however\nwhich menace the future of the upland species. Among these are: hunting\npressures, predator control, and lumbering. Even fire control, admirable\nas it may be for human purposes, disrupts the long cycles which are a\nnormal part of plant and animal succession in forested areas. These are\nonly a few of the means by which man deliberately or unconsciously\ndecimates the animal population. They are set down as a reminder that\nunless conservation and science cooperate in management problems, it is\nconceivable that many of our common species could well become extinct\nwithin the next 100 years. Our natural resources are our heritage; let\nus not waste the substance of our trust.\nAs our wilderness areas shrink it seems that our people are gradually\nbecoming more interested, not only in the welfare of our native species\nbut in their ways as well. This type of curiosity augurs well for the\nfuture of our remaining wild creatures. In times past an interest in\nmammals was limited mainly to sportsmen who often knew a great deal\nabout where to find game animals and how to pursue them. Their interest\nusually ended with the shot that brought the quarry down. Today many\npeople have discovered that a study of the habits of any animal in its\nnative habitat is a fascinating out-of-doors hobby in a virtually\nuntouched field. With patience and attention to details the layman will\noccasionally discover facts about the daily life of some common species\nthat have escaped the attention of our foremost naturalists. This is no\ncriticism of the scientific approach. It is recommended that for his own\nbenefit the nature enthusiast learn a few of the fundamentals of\nzoology, particularly of classification and taxonomy, which mean the\ngrouping and naming of species.\n                      _Classification of Animals_\nClassification of animals is easy to understand. Briefly, they are\ndivided into large groups called _orders_. These are further divided\ninto _genera_, and the genera in turn contain one or more _species_.\nScientific names of animals are always given in Latin. Written in this\nuniversal language they are intelligible to all scientists, regardless\nof nationality. It is a mistake to shy away from them because they are\ncumbersome and unfamiliar to the eye. They usually reveal some important\ncharacteristic of the animal they stand for. This is their true\nfunction; it seems to this writer that it is a mistake to name an animal\nafter a geographical location or a person, although it is frequently\ndone. The literal translations of specific names in this book will\nillustrate this point. See how much more interesting and how much more\neasily remembered those names are which describe habits or physical\nattributes of the creature.\nDescribed herein are but a part of the species native to the\nSouthwestern uplands. Those chosen were selected because they are either\ncommon, rare, or unusually interesting. Collectively they make up a\nrepresentative cross section of the mammals that live above the deserts\nof the Southwest.\nFor further information on these and other mammals of the region see the\nlist of references on page 123.\n                      (_even-toed hoofed animals_)\nThis order includes all of the hoofed animals native to the United\nStates. These are the mammals which are ordinarily spoken of as the\n\u201ccloven-hoofed animals.\u201d An odd-toed group (_Perissodactyla_), which\nincludes the so-called wild horses and burros, cannot properly be\nincluded as natives since these animals date back only to the time of\nthe Spanish conquest of our Southwest. In earlier geologic ages horses\nranged this continent, but in more primitive forms than those now found\nin other parts of the world.\nThrough a study of fossil forms it has been determined that our present\nhoofed animals evolved from creatures which lived on the edges of the\ngreat tropical swamps that once covered large areas of our present land\nmasses. They were long-legged and splay-footed, well adapted to an\nenvironment of deep mud and lush vegetation. As the waters gradually\ndisappeared and the animals were forced to take to dry land, their\nstrange feet underwent a slow transformation. Because they had become\naccustomed to walking on the tips of their toes to stay up out of the\nmud, the first toe did not touch solid ground at all in this new\nenvironment. Since it was of no use it soon vanished entirely or became\nvestigial. Some species developed a divided foot in which the second and\nthird toes and the fourth and fifth toes combined respectively to bear\nthe animal\u2019s weight. Eventually the third and fourth toes assumed this\nresponsibility alone, and the second and fifth toes became dew claws.\nThese are the cloven-hoofed animals of today. In other species the third\ntoe was developed to bear the weight, and this resulted in a single-toed\ngroup of which the horse is an example. In all cases an enormous\nmodification of the nails or claws with which most animals are equipped\nhas resulted in that protective covering called the hoof. The under\nsurface of the foot is somewhat softer and corresponds to the heavy pad\nthat protects the bottom of a dog\u2019s toe. This brief explanation refers\nonly in the broadest sense to the order as represented in the United\nStates. The feet of the various species have become so specialized to\ntheir separate ways of life that an individual can usually be easily\nidentified by its tracks alone. It is quite possible that many species\nare still undergoing subtle changes in this respect.\nWith but one exception the cloven-hoofed animals of our southwestern\nmountains bear either horns or antlers. The exception is the collared\npeccary, \u201cjavelina,\u201d (_pecari tajacu_) which, during the heat of the\nsummer, sometimes ascends to the Transition Life Zone in southern\nArizona and southwestern New Mexico. Essentially an animal of the low\ndesert, it will not be included in this book. The species which have\nhollow, permanent horns are the bighorn and pronghorn. The pronghorn is\ndistinctive in shedding the sheaths of its horns each year, but the\nhollow, bony core remains intact. In this group both sexes bear horns.\nAnimals bearing antlers are the elk and the deer. The antlers are\ndeciduous, being shed each year at about the same time as the winter\ncoat. Only the males of these species have antlers, any female with\nantlers can be considered abnormal.\nThe Southwest is fortunate in still having a number of the species of\nthis order native to the United States. The bison can hardly be\nconsidered a wild species, since it exists now only through the efforts\nof a few conservationists who brought it back from virtual extinction.\nMountain goats, caribou, and moose are the only other species not known\nto inhabit the Southwest.\nIn Nature\u2019s balance the order _Artiodactyla_ seems to have been meant as\nfood for the large predators. Their protection against the flesh eaters\nconsists mainly in fleetness of foot, keen hearing, and a wide range of\nvision, as evidenced by the large eyes set in the sides of the head.\nThey are but poorly equipped to actively resist attack by the larger\ncarnivores. Their best defense is flight.\n                        Bighorn (mountain sheep)\n             _Ovis canadensis_ (Latin: a sheep from Canada)\nRange: This species, with its several varieties, inhabits most of the\nmountainous region of the western United States. In Mexico it occurs in\nthe northern Sierra Madres and over almost the whole length of Baja\nCalifornia.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: Among or in the vicinity of more precipitous places in the\nmountains.\nDescription: A blocky animal, rather large, with heavy, curving horns.\nTotal length of adult male 5 feet. Tail about 5 inches. Weight up to 275\npounds. General color a dark gray to brown with lighter areas underneath\nbelly and inside of legs. The rump patch is much lighter than any other\npart of the body; in most cases it can be described as white. Females\nare similar in appearance to the males except that they are smaller and\nthe horns are much shorter and slimmer. Young, one or two, twins being\ncommon.\nInteresting as the desert varieties of this species may be in their\nadaptation to an environment that seems foreign to their nature, they\ncannot compare with the high mountain animal. Seen against the backdrop\nof a great gray cliff or silhouetted against the skyline of a snowy\ncrest the bighorn has a magnificence that is thrilling. In flight it is\neven more spectacular as it bounds from one narrow shelf to another in\nan incredible show of surefootedness. Yet this airy grace is exhibited\nby a chunky animal that often weighs well over 200 pounds. The secret\nlies in the specially adapted hooves with bottoms that cling to smooth\nsurfaces like crepe rubber and edges that cut into snow and ice or gain\na purchase on the smallest projections of the rocks. The legs and body,\nthough heavy, are well proportioned and so extremely well muscled that\nno matter what demands are placed on them this sheep seems to have a\ncomfortable reserve of power. No doubt the display of complete\ncoordination adds to the illusion of ease with which it ascends to the\nmost inaccessible places. Descents often are even more spectacular, the\nanimal seldom hesitating at vertical leaps of 15 feet or more down from\none narrow ledge to another.\n    [Illustration: bighorn]\nIn the high mountains where this sheep prefers to make its home it\nusually ranges near or above timberline. During winter storms it may\nsometimes be forced down into the shelter of the forests, but as soon as\nconditions warrant it will go back to its world of barren rocks and\nsnow. Here, with an unobstructed view, its keen eyes can pick out the\nstealthy movements of the mountain lion, the only mammal predator\ncapable of making any serious inroads on its numbers. It has few other\nnatural enemies. A golden eagle occasionally may strike a lamb and knock\nit from a ledge, or a high ranging bobcat or lynx may be lucky enough to\nsnatch a very young one away from its mother, but these are rare\noccurrences.\nBighorns depend mainly on browse for food. This is only natural since in\nthe high altitudes they frequent little grass can be found. Usually\nthere is some abundance of low shrubs growing in crevices on the rocks,\nhowever, and many of the tiny annuals are also searched out during the\nshort summer season. At times a sheltered cove on the south exposure of\na mountain will become filled with such shrubs as the snowberry, and the\nsheep take full advantage of such situations. As a rule they keep well\nfed for, scanty though it seems, there are few competitors for the food\nsupply above timberline.\nI have observed these sheep many times in the Rockies. Perhaps my most\nmemorable experience with this species was on Mount Cochran in southern\nMontana. It was a gray, blustery day in September with occasional snow\nflurries sweeping about the summits. On the eastern exposure of the\nmountain a steep slope of slide rock extended for perhaps 1,000 feet\nfrom one of the upper ridges to timberline. Not expecting to see any\ngame at that elevation, I made my way up this slope with no effort to\nkeep quiet. In my progress several rocks were dislodged and went\nrattling down across the mass of talus. At the summit of the ridge a low\nescarpment made a convenient windbreak against the gale that was tearing\nthe clouds to shreds as they came drifting up the opposite slope, and I\nsat down to catch my breath before entering its full force. As I sat\nthere surveying the scene spread out below, my attention was attracted\nby a low cough close by. Looking to the left about 40 feet away and 15\nfeet above me, I saw two magnificent rams standing on a projecting point\nlooking down at me. They seemed to have no fear; rather they evinced a\ndeep curiosity as to what strange animal this was that had wandered into\ntheir domain. For the better part of a half hour I hardly dared breathe\nfor fear of frightening them. At first they gazed at me fixedly,\noccasionally giving a low snorting cough and stamping their feet. Then\nas I did not move, they would wheel about and change positions,\nsometimes taking a long look over the mountains before bringing their\nattention back. Finally when the cold had penetrated to my very bones, I\nstood up. They were away in a flash, reappearing from behind their\nvantage point with two ewes and an almost full-grown lamb following\nthem. While I watched they dashed at a sheer cliff that reared up to the\nsummit, and with hardly slackening speed bounded up its face until they\nwere lost in the clouds.\nAlthough this happened in 1928 the experience is as vivid in my mind as\nthough it happened yesterday. Perhaps the most striking feature of\nbighorns seen at this close range is the eyes. They might be described\nas a clear, golden amber with a long oval, velvety black pupil. Credited\nwith telescopic vision, they must be some of the most useful as well as\nbeautiful eyes to be found in the animal kingdom.\n      _Antilocapra americana_ (Latin: antelope and goat, American)\nRange: West Texas, eastern Colorado and central Wyoming to southern\nCalifornia and western Nevada, and from southern Saskatchewan south into\nnorthern Mexico.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: Grasslands of mesas and prairies, mostly in the Upper Sonoran\nZone.\nDescription: A white and tan colored animal, considerably smaller than a\ndeer; horns with a single flat prong curving forward. Total length about\n4 feet. Tail about 6 inches. Average weight 100 to 125 pounds. Color,\ntan or black shading to white under belly and insides of legs. Two\nconspicuous white bands under the neck, and the large white rump patch\nof erectile hairs are unlike the markings of any other native animal. A\nshort, stiff mane of dark hairs follows the back of the neck from ears\nto shoulders. Hooves black, horns also black except for the light tips\non those of older males. Both sexes horned. Young, usually two, born in\nMay.\n    [Illustration: pronghorn]\nPronghorns are unique among cloven-hoofed animals of the Southwest.\nThere is only one species, with several subspecies; a variety\n_mexicana_, once common along the Mexican border, is considered extinct\nin this country. The pronghorn has no \u201cdew claws\u201d like most other\nanimals with divided hooves. It has permanent bony cores in its horns\nbut sheds the outer sheaths each year. When these drop off the\nsucceeding sheaths are already well developed. Although at first these\nnew sheaths are soft and covered with a scanty growth of short stiff\nhairs, corresponding to the velvet in antlered animals, it does not take\nlong for them to harden and become dangerous weapons. They reach full\ndevelopment at about the time of the rut; bucks have been known to fight\nto the death in the savage encounters that break out at this time.\nWere it not for its unusual horns the pronghorn probably would be known\nby a common name such as the white-tailed antelope, for the beautiful\nwhite rump patch is undoubtedly its next most conspicuous feature.\nHowever, at least two other animals have been named \u201cantelope\u201d because\ntheir posteriors have some similarity. They are the white-tailed ground\nsquirrel and the antelope jackrabbit of the Sonoran Life Zone. The\nground squirrel (_Citellus leucurus_) has merely a white ventral surface\non its tail which may or may not act as a flashing signal when flipped\nabout, but the antelope jackrabbit (_Lepus alleni_) has a rump patch\nthat bears a striking likeness to the pronghorn\u2019s both in appearance and\nmanner of use. In both cases the rump patches are composed of long,\nerectile white hairs which are raised when the animal is alarmed. In\nflight they are thought to act as warning signals; at any rate they are\nvery effective in catching the eye, and on the open plains the\npronghorn\u2019s can be seen at a distance where the rest of the animal is\nindistinguishable. It may well be, on the other hand, that this flashy\nornament is meant to attract the attention of an enemy and lead it in\npursuit of an adult individual rather than allowing it to discover the\nhelpless young. Neither animal can be matched in speed on level ground\nby any native four-footed predator.\nIn times past the pronghorn usually lived in the valley and prairie\ncountry. In the Southwest it roamed over much of both the Upper and\nLower Sonoran Life Zones, wherever suitable grass and herbage could be\nfound. On the prairies of the Midwest bands of pronghorns grazed in\nclose proximity to herds of buffalo. During the middle of the last\ncentury it was the only animal whose numbers even approached those of\nthe latter. More adaptable than the buffalo, it has retreated before the\nadvance of civilization and taken up new ranges in rough and broken\ncountry which is unsuited to agriculture. As a rule this is much higher\nthan its former range. Pronghorns are no longer found in the Lower\nSonoran Life Zone, except as small bands that have been introduced from\nfarther north. The greatest population now ranges in the upper portions\nof the Upper Sonoran and along the lower fringe of the Transition Life\nZone. The animal has always been considered migratory to some extent\nbecause it moved from mesa summer ranges to the protection of warmer\nvalleys during winter months. This habit is even more pronounced in\nlater years at the higher levels it now inhabits. These slim,\nlong-legged creatures are virtually helpless in deep snow and avoid it\nwhenever possible. They have even been known to mingle with cattle and\njoin with them at the feed racks during severe winters, an indication of\nthe extreme need to which shy pronghorns are sometimes reduced.\nThey are essentially grazing animals. In the past they ate prairie\ngrasses during the summer; in winter these same grasses made excellent\nhay that lost little in nourishment from having dried on the roots. In\naddition, they ate low herbage and nibbled leaves, buds, and fruits from\nshrubs that grew along the watercourses. Their food today is much the\nsame except that in the many areas where they receive competition from\nrange cattle they undoubtedly resort to more browse than formerly.\nNatural enemies of the pronghorn are legion, their success indifferent.\nEvery large carnivore will snap at the chance to take one, and even the\ngolden eagle has been known to kill them. The most serious depredations\nare carried out on those young too small to follow the mother. However,\nthese attacks are fraught with danger, for the females are very\ncourageous in the defense of their young and at times several will join\nin routing an enemy. In addition to this protection accorded them by\nadult members of the band, the young have an almost perfect camouflage\nin their plain coats that blend so closely with the color of the grass\nin which they usually lie concealed. Because of their fleetness, few\nadults fall prey to predators. Many attempts have been made to clock the\nspeed of the pronghorn in full flight but the estimates vary greatly.\nAlthough a fast horse can keep up with one on smooth, level ground, it\nis soon outdistanced on stony soil or in rough country.\n    [Illustration: baby pronghorn]\n           _Bison bison_ (Teutonic name given to this animal)\nRange: At present bison exist only in widely scattered sanctuaries. In\nColonial times they ranged from southern Alaska to the Texas plains,\nfrom the Rocky Mountains to the Atlantic, and as far south as Georgia.\nThey are known in historic times in Utah, Colorado, and New Mexico.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: Mainly grasslands; a comparatively small number known locally\nas \u201cwood\u201d bison lived in the fringes of the forests.\nDescription: Although bison are familiar to almost everyone, some\nfigures on weights and dimensions may be surprising. Bulls weigh up to\n1800 lbs., reach 6 feet height at the shoulders and up to 11 feet in\nlength, of which about 2 feet is the short tail. Cows average much\nsmaller from 800 to 1000 pounds, and rarely over 7 feet long. Both sexes\nhave heavy, black, sharply curving horns, tapering quickly to a point,\nand a heavy growth of woolly hair covering most of the head and\nforequarters. A large hump lies over the latter and descends sharply to\nthe neck. The head is massive, horns widely spaced, and small eyes set\nfar apart. A heavy \u201cgoatee\u201d swings from the lower jaw. All these\nfeatures combine to give the animal a most ponderous appearance.\nNevertheless, bison are surprisingly agile and are not creatures with\nwhich to trifle, especially in the breeding season, when bulls will\ncharge with little provocation. Like most wild cattle, bison normally\nbear but one calf per year. Twins are uncommon.\nThe history of the bison is unique in the annals of American mammalogy.\nIt hinges on simple economics, reflecting transfer of the western\nprairies from Indian control to white. It is a pitifully short history\nin its final stages, requiring only 50 years to drive a massive species,\nnumbering in the millions, from a well balanced existence to near\nextinction. Yet considering the nature of civilization and progress\nthere could have been no other end, so perhaps it is well that it was\nquickly over.\nFor countless centuries the bison had roamed the prairies, their\nseasonal migrations making eddies in the great herds that darkened the\nplains. They were host to the Indian, and to the gray wolf, yet so well\nwere they adapted to their life that these depredations were merely\nnormal inroads on their numbers. They drifted with the seasons and the\nweather cycles, grazing on the nutritious grasses of the prairie.\nWeather and food supply; these were the main factors which controlled\nthe \u201cbuffalo\u201d population until the coming of the white man.\nThe first white man to see an American bison is thought to have been\nCortez, who in 1521 wrote of such an animal in Montezuma\u2019s collection of\nanimals. This menagerie was kept in the Aztec capitol on the site of\nwhat is now Mexico City. There the bison was an exotic, hundreds of\nmiles south of its range. In 1540 Coronado found the Zuni Indians in\nnorthern New Mexico using bison hides, and a short distance northeast of\nthat point encountered the species on the great plains. The eastern edge\nof the Rio Grande Valley in New Mexico seems to have been the western\nlimit of bison in the Southwest. Unfavorable climate, plus the\ncomparatively heavy Indian population of the valley probably combined to\nhalt farther penetration in that direction.\nFrom 1540 until 1840 the white man limited his activities on the western\nplains to exploring. American colonization had reached the Mississippi\nRiver, but remained there while gathering its forces for the expansion\nwhich later settled the West. Under Mexican rule, the Southwest\nprogressed very slowly. Then in the span of 50 years a chain of events\noccurred which determined the destiny of the West and sealed the fate of\nthe bison herd.\n    [Illustration: bison]\nOutstanding among these events were: the War with Mexico, 1844; the 1849\nGold Rush to California; the Gadsden Purchase in 1854; and completion of\nthe transcontinental railroad in 1868. The first three added new and\nimportant territory to the United States. This made construction of\ntransportation and communication facilities a vital necessity, hence the\nrailroad. Completion of the Union Pacific Railroad in 1868 divided the\nbison population into southern and northern herds and made market\nhunting profitable. Three factors contributed to extermination: profit\nin the traffic of hides, meat, and bones; control of troublesome Indian\ntribes through elimination of one of their major sources of food; and\nfinally, removal of any competition on the grassy plains of Texas and\nKansas against the great herds of Longhorn cattle which were beginning\nto make Western range history. In 1874, only 6 years after completion of\nthe Union Pacific, the slaughter of the southern herd was complete. It\nis of interest to note that not one piece of legislation was passed to\nprotect the southern herd.\nThe northern herd did slightly better. Closed seasons were established\nin Idaho in 1864, in Wyoming in 1871, Montana in 1872, Nebraska in 1875,\nColorado in 1877, New Mexico in 1880, North and South Dakota in 1883.\nNevertheless, the herd dwindled, and by 1890 was nearly extinct. Since\nthat time, through careful management, a few small herds have been\nestablished in Parks and refuges, but today the bison must be considered\nmore a domesticated animal than a wild one.\nAlthough the animal was not as important economically to the\nsouthwestern as to the plains Indians, it was a religious symbol of some\nvalue. Archeological finds far west of the historic range, and dances\nstill used in ceremonies, reveal that several southwestern tribes sent\nhunting parties eastward into bison country. This must have been very\ndangerous, for plains Indians would have considered them invaders. Bison\nwere food, shelter, and clothing to them. Imagine their consternation\nwhen white men began to slaughter the source of their living.\nThere are today but few reminders of the great herds of the west.\nPerhaps one well versed in the ways of these wild cattle could still\nfind traces of the deeply cut trails which led to the watering places,\nor shallow depressions where the clumsy beasts once wallowed in the mud.\nMany of the Indian dances recall the importance of this animal to\nprimitive man. Perhaps our most constant reminder is the coin which\ncommemorates this symbol of the wild west, showing the Indian on one\nside and the bison on the other.\n _Odocoileus hemionus_ (Greek: odous, tooth and koilus, hollow. Greek:\nRange: Western half of North America from Central Canada to central\nMexico.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: Forests and brushy areas from near sea level to lower edge of\nthe Alpine Life Zone.\nDescription: A large-eared deer with a tail that is either all black\nabove or black tipped. Total length of an average adult about 6 feet.\nTail about 8 inches. The coat is reddish in summer and blue-gray in\nwinter. Under parts and insides of legs lighter in color. Some forms of\nthis species have a white rump patch, others none. The tail may be\nblack-tipped, or black over the whole dorsal surface, but is more\nsparsely haired than that of other native deer and is naked over at\nleast part of the under surface. Only the bucks have antlers. These are\ntypical in forking equally from the main beam. They are shed every year.\n    [Illustration: mule deer]\nThe mule deer is typical of the western mountains. Even in early days it\nwas never found east of the Mississippi and now is seldom seen east of\nthe Rockies. Only one species is recognized in the United States,\nalthough over its vast range are many subspecific forms. All are notable\nfor the size of their ears, from which derives the common name \u201cmule.\u201d\nThe black-tailed deer of the Pacific Coast, long considered a distinct\nspecies, is now rated a subspecies of the mule deer.\nIn a general way the deer of the United States may be divided into two\ngroups, these separated geographically by the Continental Divide. East\nof this line is the territory occupied by the white-tailed group;\nwestward of it live the mule deer. Inasmuch as species seldom stop\nabruptly at geographical lines, we find in this instance that a\nwhitetail subspecies, locally known as the Sonora fantail, is found\nalong the Mexican border as far west as the Colorado River, territory\nalso occupied by desert-dwelling mule deer. In like fashion the mule\ndeer of the Rocky Mountains can even now be seen in the Badlands of\nNorth Dakota, several hundred miles east of the Continental Divide and\nwell within the western range of the plains white-tailed.\nThough the two species mingle in places, they are easily distinguished\nfrom each other, even by the novice. Because in many cases the animal is\nseen only in flight, the manner of running is perhaps the most prominent\nfield difference. The mule deer, adapted to living in rough country,\nbounds away in stiff-legged jumps that look rather awkward on the level\nbut can carry it up a steep incline with surprising speed. The\nwhite-tailed, on the other hand, stretches out and runs at a bobbing\ngallop. Deer seldom take leisurely flight from a human, usually\nstraining every muscle to leave their enemy as soon as possible. In the\nrough, broken country frequented by mule deer this tactic often makes\nconsiderable commotion.\nI am reminded of a herd of an estimated 70 deer that I jumped on a steep\nmountainside in southern Utah. The crashing of brush, crackling of\nhooves, and noise of rocks kicked loose in their flight created the\nimpression of a landslide.\nAnother easily seen field difference between mule and white-tailed deer\nis the dark, short-haired tail of the former as compared with the great\nwhite fan of the latter. The tail of the mule deer seems in no way to be\nused as a signal. In flight it is not wagged from side to side as is\nthat of the white-tailed.\nAntlers of the mule deer are unlike those of any other large game\nspecies inhabiting their range. They are impressively large as a rule\nand, because of the high angle at which they rise from the head, often\nlook larger. The spread is wide in proportion to the height; thus it is\nnot unusual for a well-antlered buck to be mistaken for an elk,\nespecially at a distance. The antlers are unique in having a beam that\nforks equally to form the points. Thus a typical head might have five\npoints, these being: the basal snag, a small tine rising from the beam\nnear the head; and four points, two from the forking of each division of\nthe beam. The western manner of counting the points consists of\nnumbering those of one antler only; the method often used in the East\ncounts all of the points of both. The number of points does not\nnecessarily denote the age of a deer. Under normal conditions the\nantlers will increase in size and points with every new pair until\nmaturity is attained. They will then grow to approximately the same size\nfor several years. In old age, the antler development will usually\ndwindle with each succeeding year until, in senility, they may be as\nsmall as those of a young deer. The condition of teeth and hooves is a\nmore accurate indication of age even though this method lacks prestige\nof the time-honored system of points.\nIt would seem, from the ease with which this big deer can be established\nin varying types of habitat, that it is in little danger of extinction.\nIt is probable that the various subspecies will disappear before long\nbecause their range is rapidly being taken up by agriculture or\nlumbering. Given some protection, the species will endure in the higher\nmountains for many years to come.\n_Odocoileus virginianus_ (Greek: odous, tooth and koilus, hollow. Latin:\n    [Illustration: white-tailed deer]\nRange: Mostly east of the Continental Divide in the United States, north\ninto southern Canada, and most of Mexico except Baja California.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: Brushy and wooded country.\nDescription: A deer with a large, white tail, held aloft and wagged from\nside to side as it runs away through the underbrush. In the Southwest,\ntwo geographic variants occur, the subspecies _virginianus_ and the\nsubspecies _couesi_; the latter known locally as Sonora fantail, and\nseen in the United States only in a limited range along the border.\n_Odocoileus virginianus_ of the Southwest is a large deer. It usually\nweighs between 150 and 250 pounds, and sometimes up to 300. The average\nadult animal will measure around 6 feet in total length. Tail about 10\ninches. Color is reddish in summer, changing to gray with the winter\ncoat. Belly, insides of legs, and undersurface of tail are white. Ears\nare small. Antlers have upright tines from a single beam.\nAs the specific name indicates, this is the same deer that is found in\nthe Eastern States. It is also known as the plains whitetail, because it\nwas once common along brushy draws and river bottoms throughout the\nprairie regions. Preeminently an eastern animal, it occurs most\nabundantly in the Eastern States, dwindling in numbers westward to the\nContinental Divide. A few scattered groups are found in the Pacific\nNorthwest, and the subspecies _couesi_ extends westward along the\nMexican border to the Colorado River.\nThe white-tailed deer may be distinguished from mule deer by any of\nthree characteristics, all readily apparent in the field. These are:\nshape and construction of antlers, size and color of tail, and method of\nrunning. Antlers consist of two main beams which, after rising from the\nhead, curve forward almost at right angles with a line drawn from\nforehead to nose. The tines rise from these main beams. In the mule deer\nthe beams rise at a higher angle from the head and fork rather than\nremain single. The white-tailed tail is long and bushy, fully haired all\naround and pure white beneath. In flight it is erected and \u201cwigwagged\u201d\nfrom side to side. This, together with the white insides of the hams,\npresents a great show of white hair as the animal retreats. The mule\ndeer has a thin, sparsely-haired tail that is bare underneath and does\nnot wave from side to side in running. The \u201cwhitetail\u201d runs at a brisk\ngallop with belly close to the ground; the mule deer bounds away with a\nseries of ballet-like leaps.\nThis is the deer that contributed so much to the pioneers in their\nwestward trek from the Atlantic States. It was important not only for\nits flesh but for its hide, which after tanning became the buckskin\nmoccasins, breeches, and coats commonly worn by outdoorsmen in early\ndays. Its distribution is now spotty compared with the former range,\nalthough there are today probably more white-tailed deer in the United\nStates than in colonial times. This is mainly because in the thickly\nsettled Eastern States predators have been reduced to a minimum and\nhunting seasons carefully regulated. It is too early yet to know if\npredator elimination will result in an inferior strain of deer, but the\nrelative overpopulation in many localities has been indicated by lack of\nbrowse, disease, and excessive winter kill. The latter especially has\nbeen a problem in some of the Northern States. \u201cWhitetails\u201d are\ngregarious creatures, banding together in considerable numbers at times,\nespecially during winter. A band of them in deep snow will stay together\nand their hooves will soon tramp down the snow over a small area. As\nsucceeding snows fall, the drifts become deeper around the \u201cdeer yards\u201d\nand eventually the occupants become as imprisoned by this white barrier\nas though they were fenced. If the number of animals in the yard is too\ngreat, available browse soon disappears and many will starve to death\nbefore warm weather returns. Over most of the mountainous area occupied\nby white-tailed deer in the Southwest snow is no problem. The herds\nmerely move down to lower country when the snow gets too deep. This\nseasonal movement is so pronounced that this deer is classed as a\nmigratory animal in some localities.\nIn line with this migratory tendency the \u201cwhitetail\u201d follows a varied\nbut well-marked routine in its life pattern. About the time of shedding\nthe winter coat late in the spring, the bucks also cast their antlers.\nWith the loss of these beautiful weapons their personalities suffer.\nThey leave the group with which they have spent the winter and ascend to\nthe higher mountains, there to consort with a few similarly afflicted\nindividuals until a new growth of antlers restores their dignity. The\ndoes, left behind, have problems of their own. These include driving the\nyearling fawns away to fend for themselves in order that the does may\ngive undivided attention to the tiny, spotted newcomers that arrive in\nmidsummer. By this time the adults have put on the short, yellowish-red\nsummer coat. The fawns are reddish too, but covered with pale spots, a\ncombination that blends well with lights and shadows in the brushy\nplaces where the does choose to hide them. As soon as the fawns are\nlarge enough to follow their mothers the little family groups begin a\ngradual trek up the mountainside. There are several reasons for this\nexodus, chief of which are cooler temperatures, better browse, and fewer\nstinging insects.\nWhile the does have been rearing their young, the bucks have been\nstaging a slow comeback on the ridges above. By early fall their new\nantlers have hardened, been cleaned of velvet, and polished in the\nbrushy thickets. With restored weapons they again seek company of the\ndoes. The season of the rut comes in a time when the bucks are at the\npeak of vigor and combativeness. Yearlings and weaker bucks are soon\noutclassed, leaving the most virile and aggressive males to become\nprogenitors of the following year\u2019s fawns. The simplicity of this system\nis equalled only by its effectiveness. Natural selective breeding is one\nof the most important items in perpetuation of a species. A decline in\nnumbers of the best breeding animals often results in an inferior\nstrain. In conservation of deer herds it is well to remember that it is\nnot always the _number_ of animals that is the prime consideration. A\nsmaller group of healthy, vigorous individuals is usually more to be\ndesired than a larger population in average condition.\nAlthough the species has vanished from many of its haunts in the Prairie\nStates, it will not likely become extinct for a long time. Ranked by\nmany authorities as our foremost game animal, it has been the \u201cguinea\npig\u201d in many conservation experiments. Adaptable to almost any\nenvironment with suitable shelter and browse factors, it needs only a\nlittle protection to become well established. The \u201ckey\u201d deer of the\nFlorida Everglades, a tiny animal attaining a weight of only 50 pounds,\nis, however, on the verge of extinction. Another subspecies, the \u201cSonora\nfantail,\u201d native to Mexico and the southwestern United States, is\ngreatly reduced in numbers and seems destined to vanish.\n         _Cervus canadensis_ (Latin: stag or deer, from Canada)\nRange: Along the Rocky Mountains of the United States and Canada. Also\nfound in central Canada, western Oregon and Washington, central\nCalifornia, and various small areas in those Western States where it has\nbeen introduced.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: Wooded places and high sheltered mountain valleys.\nDescription: A very large deer with enormous antlers, a thin neck, and a\nlight rump patch. Total length 80 to 100 inches. Tail 4 to 5 inches.\nShoulder height 49 to 59 inches. Average weight 600 to 700 pounds, with\na maximum of about 1100. Coat dark in summer, lighter in winter. Longer\nhair on neck and throat of the bull forms a mane that is distinguishable\nat some distance. Antlers extremely large, usually six points on adult\nmales. Females do not normally bear antlers. Hooves are black. Young\nusually one, although twins not rare.\nThe elk is the largest member of the deer family native to the\nsouthwestern United States. It was once widely distributed, known not\nonly throughout the Middle West but also in most of the Eastern States.\nIn fact, one of its common names, \u201cwapiti,\u201d is of eastern American\nIndian origin; it was so called by the Algonquins. The Crees of Canada\nand the Northern States call it \u201cwapitiu\u201d (pale white) to distinguish it\nfrom the darker colored moose with which it was associated in that\nregion. It is now confined to the Rockies and westward in the United\nStates, and to the Rockies and central portion of Canada. Many herds now\nfound in Western States have been introduced to take the place of those\nthoughtlessly exterminated in the early days. This has been the case in\nArizona and New Mexico, where Merriam\u2019s elk disappeared before 1900.\nThis elk, now known only from scanty records and a few mounted heads and\nskulls, was a giant of its kind. Not only was it larger than the Wyoming\nelk which now takes its place, but it had correspondingly massive\nantlers. Its passing is a grim warning of what could happen easily to\nthe tule elk, a pygmy elk of central California which has been reduced\nto a dangerously small herd. The elk now present in the Southwest,\nchiefly if not all, are descendants of individuals brought down from the\nlarge herds of the Yellowstone Park area. In their new homeland they\nmaintain the same habits that characterize the species in Wyoming.\nNext to buffalo, elk are the most gregarious large mammals in the United\nStates. The degree to which they band together varies with the seasons\nand can be attributed to their migratory instincts. During summer months\nthe bands are small and widely scattered high in the Transition Life\nZone and even higher at times. With the advent of cold weather they work\ntheir way down to lower country, and winter finds them gathered in\nsheltered grassy valleys. This exodus to winter quarters can be one of\nthe most thrilling sights in Nature. In the north it is not uncommon for\nherds of a thousand or more of these stately animals to move into one of\nthe more favored valleys. They have the instinct so highly developed\namong most animals of knowing when a storm is imminent, and the\nmigration may be completed within a period of 48 hours, or even less if\nfoul weather is brewing.\nThe concentration of hundreds of these hungry animals into one small\narea creates numerous problems, the most serious being that of feed.\nBefore the white man came, the elk population was more scattered, and\nmany winter feeding grounds were available. In those ungrazed areas they\nwere able to paw down through the snow to the nourishing dry grass\nbeneath. Large herds must now be fed on hay to avoid winter losses that\nwould otherwise result. In the Southwest, with its comparatively mild\nwinters and small population, the animals experience little difficulty\nin weathering the storms without human aid. The present herds appear\nwell established, and with proper conservation measures should be a\nvaluable part of our wildlife for many years to come.\n    [Illustration: elk]\nMigratory though they are, elk still must weather a great seasonal range\nof temperature. In adapting to these changes they have developed two\ndefinite coats, one for summer and one for winter. The winter garb is\nput on early in the fall; it consists of a heavy coat of brown woolly\nunderfur with guard hairs that vary from gray on the sides to almost\nblack on neck and legs. Old bulls tend to be more black and white than\nthe cows and younger animals. This heavy pelage, often called the \u201cgray\u201d\ncoat, effectively wards off cold winds that sweep through the mountains\nand insulates the wearer against snow that is driven into the outer\nsurface. In the spring this coat is shed to make way for a light summer\ncoat. The matted hair falls away in great bunches, and the animals are\nunkempt in appearance for 2 months or more. The summer coat is made up\nof short, stiff hairs with little underfur. The pelage is glossy when\ncompared with the harsh guard hairs of the winter coat. In color it is\ntawny, appearing reddish at a distance. The rump patch is a light tawny\ncolor in both coats.\nWith the coming of spring the bulls lose the great antlers which they\nhave carried through the winter. This takes place through a general\ndeterioration of the antler base accompanied by some reabsorption of\ntissues at that point. The antlers may simply drop off or, in their\nweakened condition, be snapped off on contact with low hanging branches.\nThey are usually shed in March, and by May a new pair begins to grow. As\nwith the rest of the deer family, a thick growth of velvet covers the\nnew growth. The first stages look rather ludicrous as the antlers\ndevelop points by successive stages, each tine coming to maturity before\nthe next begins to grow. Eventually the height of the antlers \u201ccatches\nup,\u201d so to speak, with the overprominent base. At full maturity,\nattained by August, there are few sights so impressive as a bull elk in\nthe velvet. When this stage is reached the antlers, until now extremely\ntender, begin to harden and lose their sense of feeling. The bulls strip\noff the velvet by rubbing against branches and brush. Gradually the hard\ncore emerges, stained a rich brown, except for the tips of the tines\nwhich are a gleaming ivory white. The antlers are so beautifully\nsymmetrical that they seem graceful despite their size. One of the\nlargest pairs on record has a length of beam of 64\u00be inches and a spread\nof 74 inches.\nA mature bull usually has six tines on each antler. These have definite\nnames. The first tine extends forward from the head and is known as the\n\u201cbrow\u201d tine; the next to it as the \u201cbez\u201d tine. Collectively they are\ncalled the \u201clifters,\u201d formerly known as \u201cwar tines.\u201d The next point\ninclines toward the vertical; this is the \u201ctrez\u201d tine. The fourth is the\n\u201croyal\u201d or \u201cdagger\u201d point, and the terminal fork of the antler forms the\nfinal two points which are called \u201csurroyals.\u201d\nUnwieldy as this tremendous rack of antlers appears, the animals handle\nthem with comparative ease. In the normal walk or trot the body is\ncarried along smoothly with the nose held up and forward. In this\nposture the antlers are well balanced and are carried without undue\nstrain. In running through brush the nose is lifted still higher; this\nthrows the antlers farther back along the shoulders, and as the nose\nparts the branches they slide along the curving beams without catching\non the tines. Despite these cumbersome impediments, the elk creates less\ndisturbance than most large forest animals when in flight. Antlers as\nweapons of offense are far overrated, for they seldom serve this\nfunction. Males have been severely injured and even killed in fights\namong themselves, but these are exceptions, and most fighting is done by\nstriking with the front feet. If antlers are used it is usually with a\nchopping, downward motion that rakes, rather than puncturing the hide of\nthe opponent.\nDespite the fine appearance he presents, the bull elk is not content\nmerely to be seen, but insists on being heard as well. His vocal effort\nis a high, clear, mellow tone commonly known as bugling, although it\nseems to have more the quality of a whistle than the sound of a horn.\nThe call begins on a low note that is sustained for perhaps two seconds\nand then rises swiftly for a full octave to a sweet mellow crescendo,\ndrops by swift degrees to the first note, and dies away. This is\nfollowed by several coughing grunts that can be heard only at close\nrange. Bugling can be heard for a great distance, and on a clear quiet\nevening one of the greatest charms of wilderness camping is to hear this\nclear challenge flung out from some nearby ridge. The response is\nquickly returned from other hillsides, some so far away as to be mere\nwhispers in the distance.\nBugling is indulged mainly during the rutting season and lasts from\nAugust to November. During this time it undoubtedly is intended as a\nchallenge to other bulls and perhaps also to impress the cows with their\nlords\u2019 great importance. At other seasons it is heard but infrequently,\nand then probably is simply an expression of abundant animal spirits.\nCows have been known to bugle, but this is a rare occurrence.\nThe single calf is born between mid-May and mid-June. Twins are not\nuncommon. At birth the calf will weigh 30 to 40 pounds, and is an\nawkward animal. It has a pale brown coat liberally sprinkled with light\nspots, and a very prominent rump patch. For several days it remains\nhidden in the grass while the mother grazes nearby and keeps constant\nvigil. Several times daily she will return to let the calf suckle, but\nthis is done as hurriedly as possible. Many are the predators that are\nonly too anxious to catch the little one, such as mountain lions,\nwolves, bobcats, coyotes, bears, and even golden eagles. Should the calf\nbe molested it emits a shrill squeal and the cow charges in with sharp\nhooves flashing. She usually is successful in driving away the smaller\npredators and sometimes intimidates even the largest with her bristling\nshow of fury. After the calf is large enough to follow the mother, she\nwarns it of danger with a hoarse, coughing bark.\nThe presence of canine teeth in elk is a peculiarity not found in other\nAmerican deer. They are of modified form, being bulbous growths without\nknown function. They occur in both sexes but those in bulls have the\ngreatest development. At maturity they become highly polished and stain\na light brown.\n                       _Including the Lagomorphs_\nRodents are the most numerous mammals of the Southwest. This is not an\nunusual condition; they enjoy numerical superiority over other mammals\nthroughout the world. As a rule rodents are small animals; the largest\nto be found in the uplands of the Southwest are the beaver and the\nporcupine. Although these two are considerably larger than all others of\nthe group, they cannot be classed as big animals. Because of the large\nnumber of species represented and the varying conditions under which\nthey live, rodents have wide differences in physical characteristics.\nThey can all be identified as belonging to this group, however, by one\ncommon characteristic\u2014that of having long, curving incisors. As a rule\nthese number two above and two in the lower jaw, the only exception\nbeing the hares and some of their closely allied species. These properly\nbelong to the order _Lagomorpha_ but will be included here with rodents.\nThe incisors are deeply set in the jaws, that part above the gums being\na hollow tube filled with pulp. Unlike the incisors of other mammals,\nthey continue a slow steady growth throughout the life of the animal.\nThis is a means of compensating for the wear the cutting edges must\nundergo. The fronts of these teeth are covered with a heavy coat of\nenamel, while the back surfaces are either bare dentine or at best\ncovered with very thin enamel. The wear thus results in a bevel-edged\nsurface much like that of a chisel which, with the whetting it receives\nduring the normal movements of eating, remains sharp. A uniform\nsharpening of both upper and lower incisors is assured by a peculiar\narrangement of the hinge of the lower jaw. A more-than-average play in\nthis ball and socket joint allows the lower incisors to slide either\nbehind or in front of the uppers so that both sets receive approximately\nthe same wear on both sides. Should one of the incisors be broken or\notherwise damaged so that normal attrition cannot take place, its\nopposite will grow to such a degree that the animal is unable to take\nfood and then may starve to death. Canine teeth are absent in all\nrodents, and premolars are lacking in many species. The large gap thus\nleft between the narrow incisors and the comparatively massive molars\naccounts in part for the wide skull that tapers quickly to the laterally\ncompressed face so typical of rodent features.\nFood habits of the various types of rodents differ to a great degree.\nPerhaps the term omnivorous might be applied to most of them because\nvirtually all rodents will eat insects and meat in addition to the usual\nfare of vegetable matter. A few might be classed as insectivorous or\neven carnivorous. Some species store up hoards of food against lean\nseasons; others eat like gluttons when food is abundant and hibernate\nthrough times of want; still others are equipped to spend the whole year\nin a busy search for something to eat.\nHabitats are equally diverse. Some species live below the earth, some on\nthe surface of the ground, at least two species are aquatic, and a few\nare arboreal. Regardless of where they live, the great majority are home\nbuilders. They strive to locate their homes in the most protected places\nand usually line their nests with soft materials. Outstanding exceptions\nare the jackrabbit and the porcupine, both of which lead nomadic lives.\nIn spite of their secretive habits, rodents suffer a tremendous\nmortality. Practically all carnivorous animals, most predatory birds,\nand many snakes prey on rodents, and for many of them these persecuted\nanimals form the chief food. This situation is not as harsh as it might\nseem, for most rodents are prolific to a high degree. Elliott Coues\nsummed up their place in Nature\u2019s balance very aptly: \u201cYet they have one\nobvious part to play,... that of turning grass into flesh, in order that\ncarnivorous Goths and Vandals may subsist also, and in their turn\nproclaim, \u2018All flesh is grass.\u2019\u201d\n            _Lepus americanus_ (Latin: hare ... of America)\nRange: Found throughout the greater part of Canada and Alaska with\nextensive penetrations into the Southwest in Utah, Colorado, New Mexico,\nand western Nevada. Its occurrence in northern California is rather\nrare, and is confined to only a few higher mountain ranges.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: In the vicinity of streams or in conifer forests in the\nCanadian and Hudsonian Life Zones.\nDescription: A small, chunky hare with medium long ears and large hairy\nhind feet. An average individual will have a total length of about 18\ninches with a tail less than 2 inches. Hind foot about 6 inches in\nlength. Summer pelage brown, except feet and belly white, and tail\nbrownish black above. Winter coat white except for the tips of the ears\nwhich are black. Young, three to six, born in May or June.\nThe snowshoe hare, found sparingly in mountains of the Southwest, is the\nsame as that which lives in the muskeg not far from the Arctic Circle.\nThe climate of the mountain zones is surprisingly like that of the north\ncountry even though the terrain is different. The closest equivalent is\nto be found in the brushy borders of mountain streams, and here the\n\u201csnowshoes\u201d are most often found. During summer they feed on grasses,\nherbs, and leaves of many different shrubs and the tender tips of young\nbranches. Winter, a period of famine for many animals, is just the\nopposite for these large-footed hares. Able to run about on the surface\nof snowdrifts, each new snowfall lifts them closer to the tender twigs\nthat earlier in the year were far above their reach. Clean diagonal cuts\nmuch like those made with a knife mark their depredations and, since\nthey are hearty eaters, the whole tops of many favorite food shrubs may\nbe pruned out in one season.\nIn common with several other hunted creatures and a comparatively few\nthat hunt, the \u201csnowshoe\u201d undergoes a complete change of color between\nits summer and winter coat. The transformation begins when the first\nsnows are due, and usually the white coat is complete when the snows lie\ndeep on the mountains. It is not, as was once supposed, a case of the\nbrown guard hairs turning white, but a molt. The summer guard hairs are\nshed and white ones taken their place. The under fur changes color to a\nless marked degree. Close to the skin the animal is still brown.\nOutwardly it is pure white except for black ear tips. Marvelous as this\nprotective coloration is, it is not absolute proof against enemies.\nThere are many, and chief among them are lynxes, bobcats, wolves,\nweasels, and great horned owls. In many places in the far north the\nsnowshoe hare is the chief host of the lynx, their numbers fluctuating\nin unison.\n    [Illustration: snowshoe hare]\nLike most other hares the \u201csnowshoe\u201d spends a great share of its leisure\ntime in a \u201cform.\u201d This is usually nothing more than a well concealed\nhollow. The semi-darkness under low hanging evergreens is much favored\nby these nocturnal animals for this purpose. They do not, at any time,\nfrequent burrows, the closest approach to this kind of home being in\nwinter when they are sometimes completely snowed under. They suffer but\nlittle during severe storms, because their long, fluffy fur is\nprotection against the cold. Their greatest danger lies in the\npossibility of being buried alive in the event of a freezing rain\nfollowing the snow.\nThe young are born in late spring or early summer. They come into the\nworld amid plushy surroundings indeed. The mother has lined the surface\nnest with soft hair pulled from her own coat, and a softer, more\ncomfortable nursery could hardly be imagined. The little hares are born\nfully furred, with eyes open, and usually with the incisor teeth already\nthrough the gums. Their development is rapid, and long before cold\nweather arrives they are out on their own.\n                        White-tailed jackrabbit\n         _Lepus townsendi_ (Latin: hare ... for J. K. Townsend)\nRange: North of the Canadian border to the southern portion of Colorado\nand Utah, and from the Cascade Mountains east to the Mississippi River.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: Plains and open country, in the foothills, and even in the high\nmountains. Found in both Upper Sonoran and Transition Life Zones.\nDescription: A large hare with a white tail and a lanky build, found\nusually only in open country. Total length (average) 18 to 24 inches.\nTail up to 4 inches. Ears up to 6 inches in length. Weight 5 to 8\npounds. Color varies with the seasons. The summer coat is buffy gray,\nthe winter coat is white. The tail, long for a hare, is white throughout\nthe year. The tips of the ears are black both summer and winter. Young,\nthree to six in a litter, born in May. There may be a second litter\nduring late summer. As with all the hare family, the young are well\nfurred and have their eyes open at birth.\nThe white-tailed jackrabbit is the largest hare native to the United\nStates. Its great size is further emphasized by its rangy build and long\nlegs and ears. Such physical characteristics are usually marks of an\nanimal that is fiercely pursued by its enemies. This denizen of the open\ncountry is no exception. It is preyed upon by innumerable predators,\nincluding man, the most relentless and cunning of all. Yet its place in\nthe modern world is still secure, for though it is almost totally\nlacking in offensive weapons, Nature has given it defensive advantages\nfar beyond most other creatures. Perhaps the most important is the\ndeceptive speed with which it floats across the prairie. Fastest of its\ntribe and exceeded in this respect by only one native animal, the\npronghorn, this lanky jackrabbit simply runs away from most pursuit.\nEffective though this tactic is, the animal uses it usually as a last\nresort, preferring to employ the exact opposite, that of crouching\nmotionless in an effort to avoid detection. Absolute immobility is\nitself an admirable defense, but when augmented by camouflage such as\nthis creature possesses it is even more effective.\nLike most members of the hare family, the white-tailed jackrabbit is\nmore active at night than during the day. It spends most of the daylight\nhours resting in a form that it hollows out under shelter of a low shrub\nor large tuft of grass. In summer the tawny coat blends well with the\ncolor of the surroundings, and the winter coat is possibly even more\neffective. Then the crouched body resembles nothing more than a mound of\nsnow; the black tips of the ears suggest black weed stems sticking up\nthrough the white surface.\n    [Illustration: white-tailed jackrabbit]\n                          Mountain cottontail\n _Sylvilagus nuttalli_ (Latin: sylva, wood and Greek: lagos, hare. For\nRange: Western United States but east of the coastal range of mountains.\nThe northern limits are along the Canadian border; the southern limits\nin central Arizona and New Mexico.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: Mountains of the west through the Transition and Canadian Life\nZones. Seldom found below the pines.\nDescription: The \u201cpowder puff\u201d tail is the best field characteristic by\nwhich to recognize this rabbit, usually the only cottontail in its range\nat the elevations given above. It is one of the largest of its kind,\naveraging 12 to 14 inches in total length with the tail less than 2\ninches long. Average weights run from 1\u00bd to 3 pounds. Ears are\nrelatively short and wide for a cottontail. Color varies somewhat with\nrelation to habitat, but in general it is gray with a faint yellowish\ntinge. Darkest areas are about the back and upper sides; under parts are\nlight to almost white. The winter coat is heavier than the summer, but\nmuch the same color. The underside of the tail is the cottony white so\nwell known to city and country dwellers alike. From the scanty records\navailable on the number of young it would seem that three to four\nconstitute the average litter. Perhaps the higher elevations at which\nthey live keep them free from many of the predators to which their\nlowland cousins succumb, and thus they are able to maintain their\nnumbers with smaller families.\nThough often found in the depths of the forest, these shy rabbits prefer\nto live in the brushy thickets that border high mountain meadows and\nline the streams. There, in true cottontail fashion, they venture into\nthe open to feed, always ready at the first sign of danger to scurry\nback to safety under tangled branches. Once fairly entered into the maze\nof paths that they alone know, there is little danger of capture. There\nthey can count themselves safe from further pursuit by the larger\npredators and have a distinct advantage over those their own size or\nsmaller. Although so clever at turning and doubling back in their chosen\nrefuges, they seldom use much evasive action when surprised in the open.\nTheir first thought seems to be to reach cover in the straightest\npossible line, and as a consequence many are snapped up by predators who\nnot only rely on this behavior but often gain the advantage of a\nsurprise attack as well.\nFood habits are much the same as those of other cottontails, modified to\nsome extent by the different plant associations with which they are\nfound. In summer, tender grasses and herbs are the favorite fare, but in\nwinter when deep snow isolates them from even the taller herbs, these\nadaptable animals turn to bark and such small twigs as meet their taste.\nAt this time even the tips of conifer twigs are often eaten. Access to\nthis food, which during the summer is usually out of reach, is\nfacilitated by the growth of long hair on the bottom of the feet,\nespecially on the hind feet. Though these seasonal \u201csnowshoes\u201d do not\napproach those of the Arctic hare in size, they serve very well to\nsupport the lighter cottontails as they move over the soft surface. They\nare especially useful when the animal stands on its hind feet to reach\nsome inviting bit that would be out of reach in the normal crouching\nposition. During this operation it reaches for food with the mouth\nalone; the forepaws cannot be used to gather food, but hang loosely in\nfront of the body as an aid to balance.\n    [Illustration: mountain cottontail]\nThis inability to grasp or handle objects with the front feet is\ncharacteristic of all those animals which in the United States we call\n\u201crabbits.\u201d Though here included with the rodents, the jackrabbits,\nsnowshoe hares, and cottontails all lack the dexterity with the forepaws\nwith which the rest of the group is endowed. The structure of the bones\nis much like that of the ungulates in that the feet cannot be turned\nsideways. Thus front legs are used mainly for running, digging, and\nwashing the face and ears, a procedure much like that employed by\ndomestic cats, except that it is carried out with the sides of the paws\nrather than the insides of the wrists as Tabby does.\nThough it lives in a different habitat than other closely related\nspecies, the mountain cottontail shares many of their habits. It is a\nnocturnal animal, seldom seen at large except at dusk or in early\nmorning hours. During the greater part of the day it seeks refuge under\nsome brush pile or deep in the recesses of the slide rock. On occasion\nit will make itself a form in long grass or under a shrub, but usually\nprefers more substantial protection. In areas which are being logged,\ncottontails are quick to take advantage of the shelter offered by huge\npiles of limbs and debris left by loggers. Later in the season, when the\npiles are burned, it is not unusual to see as many as three or four\ncottontails scurry from one pile.\nNests for rearing the young are not of such great concern to these\nrabbits. Perhaps they instinctively choose places where an enemy would\nnever expect to find them. Many are mere hollows in tall grass or\nshallow burrows in an accumulation of pine needles. They are lined with\nsoft grasses or needles and hair which the mother pulls from her own\nbody. More hair and grass fibers are cleverly matted together to form a\nloosely woven blanket which she pulls over the nest when she leaves. It\nis arranged with such cunning and blends so well with the surrounding\nthat unless one sees the rabbit leave it is only by accident a nest is\ndiscovered. The three to five young are born blind and naked, but thrive\nso well in the warm nest that in about a month they are fully furred and\nable to leave. At this age they are extremely playful little creatures,\noften indulging in a game much like tag, although to a human observer it\nis never quite clear just who is \u201cIt.\u201d\nIn this connection it is interesting to note than among the \u201chunted\u201d\nmammals the play spirit is usually manifested by running games in which\nthere is little if any physical contact. By contrast, the young of\npredators indulge in wrestling games featuring use of teeth and claws,\noften beyond the point where fun ceases and anger begins.\n       _Ochotona princeps_ (Mongol name of pika ... Latin: chief)\nRange: Mountainous areas of the western United States, western Canada,\nand southern Alaska. Found in the southwestern United States in Utah,\nColorado and New Mexico.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: Talus slopes of the Hudsonian and Alpine Life Zones.\nDescription: A small animal bearing some resemblance to a guinea pig;\nfound only among or in the vicinity of rock slides. Total length from 6\u00bd\nto 8\u00bd inches. No visible tail. Color, gray to brown. Eyes small, ears\nlarge and set well back on head. The front legs are short and are\nexceeded but little by the hind legs. They are all quite concealed by\nthe long hair of the sides. This gives the animal much the appearance of\na mechanical toy as it glides smoothly over the rocks. The soles of the\nfeet are covered with hair, the only bare spots on the feet being the\npads of the toes. The call is distinctive, the most common being an\n\u201ceeh\u201d repeated several times. This sound is shrill, but has a falsetto\nquality as though it were being produced during an inhalation. Young\nthought to number from three to six.\n    [Illustration: pika]\nFar up on the mountainside, above timberline but below the eternal\nsnows, a great field of talus rests uneasily on the massive slopes of\nbedrock. From a distance it seems merely a smooth gray scar that softens\nthe otherwise abrupt lift of the summit. A closer inspection reveals it\nas a tumbled mass of variously shaped slabs of stone varying from tiny\nfragments to huge blocks weighing many tons. Its entire bulk is shot\nthrough with chinks and crevices of every conceivable shape and form.\nHere and there a wisp of grass or an occasional stunted shrub has found\na precarious foothold among the slabs. Other low matlike plants occur in\nconsiderable numbers. The only sounds are faint whisperings of wind\namong the rocks and a distant sighing from the forest below. Suddenly a\nsharp \u201ceeh-eeh\u201d breaks the silence, then all is quiet again. The shrill\nsounds are repeated, this time from a different quarter. You look toward\nthe sound but see nothing. Finally, if you are lucky, your eyes focus on\na little face somewhat resembling that of a tiny cottontail rabbit,\npeering at you from the safety of a home among the rocks. It is the pika\nyou see and this rock slide is his castle.\nThe pika bears a superficial facial resemblance to the rabbit, to which\nit is most nearly related. This is occasioned no doubt by the long silky\nwhiskers and deeply cleft upper lip, for the eyes are small and the\nears, while large, are shaped much differently from those of its larger\nrelative. Its other physical characteristics are entirely unlike those\nof the rabbit. The chunky body, short legs, and almost total lack of a\ntail are more like those of the guinea pig to which it is more distantly\nallied. Several species are known. All are inhabitants of the Northern\nHemisphere and all, whether Asiatic, European, or American, are found\nliving in rock slides at or above timberline. In the western United\nStates the pika is known by a variety of other common names of which\n\u201cconey,\u201d \u201clittle chief hare,\u201d and \u201crock rabbit\u201d are perhaps the best\nknown.\nLiving as it does in only one type of habitat, the pika has developed\nhighly specialized habits. The most remarkable is its practice of\ncutting hay for winter food. At timberline the growing season is short,\nbut the herbs and grasses which this animal eats spring up and mature in\na matter of weeks. During this time the pika lives high on the succulent\nleaves and stems, but during the latter part of the season it carefully\nharvests enough food to last through the coming winter. None of this\nhoard is carried directly into the burrow. Instead, it is painstakingly\ntransported to suitable areas which are exposed to the hot sun, and\nthere piled in miniature haycocks and left to cure. No human harvester\never worked harder to gather his crop or laid it up with more care than\nthis tiny husbandman. Fortunately its tastes are not critical; thus,\nalthough the individual plants are scattered, the pika is able to select\na sufficient store from the considerable number of species represented\nat this altitude.\nIn Utah and Colorado the \u201chaying\u201d time arrives with the height of the\nsummer blooming season. At timberline this usually occurs during August.\nAs though realizing that a hard frost would ruin its delightfully\nfragrant crop, the pika sets furiously to work. After cutting down as\nmuch herbage as it can handle at one time, it gathers the mass into an\nunwieldy bundle and carries it by mouth to one of the sites it has\nselected as a curing place. Usually these areas have been used the\nprevious season for the same purpose, and a mass of the least edible\nstems remain to mark their location. Depositing the load on this base,\nthe pika scurries away for another bundle. Long familiarity with routes\nacross the uneven rocks enables it to make its way with never a misstep,\neven though the load carried may be of such size that vision to the\nfront is completely obscured. Working early and late the pika\ndistributes its harvest among the various piles. As a result, the hay\ndries out evenly and when cold weather calls a halt to the work each\nlittle stack is perfectly cured without a trace of mildew. The truly\nmonumental work to which this little creature goes is shown by as many\nas a half dozen haycocks, each of which may contain up to a bushel or\nmore of feed.\nComparatively little is known of the pika\u2019s life history. What has been\nrecorded has been noted during those periods when it was seen on the\nsurfaces of rock slides. What goes on deep in the labyrinths of its\nhabitat can only be conjectured. It seems reasonable to suppose that in\nsome subterranean cavity the pika has constructed a comfortable nest\nlined with soft grasses. Certainly it remains active all winter,\nalthough buried under many feet of snow, for in the spring its stacks of\nhay have been largely consumed.\nThe number of young is thought to range from three to six. They probably\nare born in early summer, as when they appear on the surface, usually in\nlate July or early August, they are about half grown. Though family ties\nare closely knit until the young mature, pikas cannot be considered\ngregarious animals. The scarcity of food alone would be sufficient\nreason to prohibit large groups in one small area. Each adult takes up\nsquatter\u2019s rights on a territory large enough to support it, and\nthereafter holds it with but little interference from others of its\nkind.\nFew natural enemies prey on the pikas. The very openness of their\nhabitat prevents the larger predators from stealing up unseen. Hawks and\neagles account for some, and weasels are able to penetrate their\nunderground maze at will, but the natural fecundity of the species seems\nto balance these losses very well. To the nature student the pika offers\na tempting challenge. It is far from being a rare animal, yet at the\nsame time it is one about which almost nothing is known. As\nqualifications for learning its secrets, one must be somewhat of a miner\nand considerable of an arctic explorer.\n                    Tassel-eared squirrel (Abert\u2019s)\n     _Sciurus aberti_ (Latin: shade-tail ... for Col. J. J. Abert)\nRange: Northern Arizona, northwestern New Mexico, extreme southeastern\nUtah, and south central Colorado in the United States; also found in the\nSierra Madre Mountains of northern Mexico.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: Ponderosa pine forests of the Transition Life Zone.\nDescription: The only squirrels in the United States that have\nconspicuous pencils of hair on the tips of the ears. _Sciurus aberti_ is\na large squirrel with a total length of about 20 inches. Tail about 9\ninches. The summer pelage is brown on the back, with gray sides and pure\nwhite underparts. The beautiful bushy tail is silvery below and gray\nabove. During summer the long ears have no tassels on the tips.\nBeautiful as is the summer coat, it is far surpassed by the winter one.\nThen the heavier fur becomes richer brown on the back, and the contrast\nbetween the gray and white areas is further emphasized by appearance of\na narrow black band between them. The ears too become more spectacular\nwith the addition of the penciled tufts which give this animal its\ncommon name. Breeding habits of this squirrel are variable and evidently\ndepend to a great extent on the food supply. There may be as many as two\nlitters in a fruitful year and none at all in a lean year. The usual\nnumber is three or four young to a litter. These are born sometimes in a\nhollow tree, but more often in a bulky nest of leaves built in a tree\ntop.\nNo mammal of the United States has a more appropriate generic name than\nthe large tree squirrel. _Sciurus_ literally translated means\n\u201cshade-tail\u201d and refers of course to the beautiful and useful appendage\nsported by all of our arboreal types of squirrels. It is doubtful if any\ncan equal the striking plume carried by _aberti_; certainly none can\nsurpass it. Its distinctiveness is not occasioned by its size, for\nseveral species have tails that are longer. Rather, its elegance is\nderived from the width, the striking coloration, and the easy grace with\nwhich the animal displays its beauty. Whether in full flight across a\ngrassy clearing or in repose on some lofty limb, the first field mark of\nthis unusual squirrel will be the tail; the second, the tasseled ears.\nAs the map shows, _Sciurus aberti_ and its many forms are confined in\nthe United States mainly to the high country along parts of the Colorado\nRiver, and also to that great escarpment known as the Mogollon Rim,\nwhose length is divided about equally between New Mexico and Arizona. In\nthis range is found what is often referred to as the \u201cgreatest unbroken\nstand of ponderosa pine to be found in this country.\u201d Of the many\nspecies of plants and animals found as associates of this forest,\nperhaps none is more dependent on ponderosa pine than the tassel-eared\nsquirrel. This rough-barked tree furnishes a major source of food and\nshelter. In return, for Nature always demands that restitution be made,\nthe squirrels plant a part of the seeds that insure continuation of the\nponderosas.\nIt is a common belief that squirrel\u2019s diet consists of nuts and little\nelse. This is true only to a degree. A squirrel is fond of nuts and will\neat and hoard them during the short season when they are available. For\nthe greater part of the year, when its stores have been depleted, it\nturns to many other types of food among which are fruit, herbage, leaf\nbuds, and flowers. Favorite food of the tassel-eared squirrel is, of\ncourse, the large single-winged seeds found under scales of ponderosa\npine cones. Next favored are acorns from the oak that mingles with pine\nat the lower edge of the Transition Life Zone. If the season is good,\ngreat quantities of cones and acorns are buried for future use. These\nare hidden singly, not in caches, as is the habit of some squirrels. In\nthe event the squirrel does not return for its hidden stores, some of\nthe seeds will sprout eventually and take their part in the slow cycle\nof growth and decay that is continually going on in the forest.\nDuring months when these favorite foods are scarce, squirrels find the\ncambium layer of young pine twigs very acceptable. This is the tender\nlayer that lies between the wood and the bark. In the growing season it\nis especially sweet and nutritious. This was as well known to the\nIndians as the squirrels, and they too took advantage of the supply\nduring times of famine. The squirrel obtains this food by cutting off\nthe terminal clusters of needles, then severing a denuded portion of the\nbranch, of a size that may be conveniently carried to a favorite eating\nplace. Here the outer bark is deftly removed, the edible portions\nconsumed, and the base wood cast to the ground. Although large numbers\nof the terminal twigs are taken, the trees seem to suffer no serious\ndamage from this seasonal pruning.\n    [Illustration: tassel-eared squirrel]\nIn selecting a nesting site the tassel-eared squirrel turns again to its\nfavorite tree, the ponderosa pine. Because few of these healthy giants\nhave knotholes or cavities of a size to accommodate this large species,\nthe nests are usually built in the thick upper growth of branches.\nMaterial for their construction consists of small twigs of deciduous\ntrees, cut with the leaves on them. These are cleverly woven together so\nthat as the leaves wither and dry they tend to hold the bulky mass\ntogether. Aspen branches frequently are used when available, the large,\nalmost round leaves combining to form a warm wall and at the same time a\nthatch impervious to all but the most driving rains. Several exits are\nprovided in case an enemy should enter the nest, and the interior is\nlined with soft fibers. Usually more than one nest is built by each\nsquirrel, so that in an area where they are common the bulky homes are\nconspicuous not only for their size but by reason of their numbers. With\nseveral ports in a storm, so to speak, the squirrels weather the winter\nvery well. During the coldest days they remain snugly curled up in their\nnests, but on bright, still days they will be seen searching out their\nhoarded supplies, even though they may have to dig through several\ninches of snow to get to them. At such time their gruff bark, deep in\ntimbre, may be heard for a considerable distance.\nBreeding takes place in early spring, often before the snow is off. The\nsquirrels are fully polygamous, which is one of the reasons this species\ncan almost disappear and then restores its numbers within a season or\ntwo. There may be two litters each year, the first arriving as early as\nMay and the second in August or September. As mentioned before, this\nspecies is variable and the young may differ in coloration from their\nparents and from each other. Melanistic individuals are frequent; these\nshould not be confused with the Kaibab squirrel which they resemble\nsuperficially. Several subspecific forms are recognized but are not\neasily identified by the layman.\nOne\u2019s first introduction to this beautiful species is an experience long\nto be remembered. It was no less interesting to the early naturalists\nwho first penetrated the wild regions where it lived. Their accounts\nabound with adjectives such as, \u201chandsome,\u201d \u201cgraceful,\u201d etc. Dr. S. W.\nWoodhouse, who accompanied the Sitgreaves expedition on the exploration\nof the Zuni and Colorado Rivers, noticed it at once and formally\ndescribed it as a species in 1852. Since that time it has been\nintroduced into many of the \u201csky island,\u201d mountains that lie south of\nits original range. It adapts very well to new conditions, seeming to\nneed only a favorable climate and a ponderosa pine forest in which to\nlive. What effect its presence will have on these new surroundings is\nnot yet known. There is always danger that the native plants and animals\nwill suffer from such new competition in an established association.\nSuch introductions should never be made without a study of all the\nfactors involved.\n _Sciurus kaibabensis_ (Latin: shade-tail ... from the Kaibab, a forest\nRange: An area approximately 30 \u00d7 70 miles in size in northern Arizona.\nThe southern limit is bounded by the north rim of the Grand Canyon of\nthe Colorado, and much of the range is included within the boundaries of\nGrand Canyon National Park.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: Ponderosa pine forests in Canadian and upper Transition Life\nZones.\nDescription: A tassel-eared squirrel with an _all white_ tail. In size\nthis species is the same as _Sciurus_ _aberti_ but the coloration is\ndifferent. The Kaibab squirrel has the same rich, chestnut brown area\nalong the back and upper part of the head, but the sides are deep gray\nand underparts gray to black. The tail is either all silvery white or it\nmay have barely discernible light gray edging on the upper surface.\nNesting and breeding habits are the same as with _aberti_.\n    [Illustration: Kaibab squirrel]\nThis beautiful squirrel has a distinctive appearance and an uncertain\nspecific rank. It is included here because of all the mammals discussed\nin this booklet it best exemplifies the effects of isolationism. There\nis little doubt that the ancestors of both _aberti_ and _kaibabensis_\nwere of one common stock. How the progenitors of the Kaibab squirrel\ncame to be marooned on the North Rim of the Grand Canyon is of little\nmoment. Perhaps they were already there when the Colorado plateau was\nyoung and the river was just beginning its mighty task. Possibly they\nemigrated later when the gorge was not as deep as it is now. At any\nrate, it can be assumed that they have lived on the North Rim for\nthousands of years, isolated from their cousins on the South Rim by only\n20 miles of thin air horizontally, but a trip on foot that involves a\ndescent of a mile through two life zones (Upper Sonoran and Lower\nSonoran), a crossing of a wide and turbulent river, and an ascent to the\nSouth Rim through the same two desert zones. Surely this is an\nundertaking for a squirrel of the cool forests that would be too\nhazardous to be successful, even if attempted.\nThe factors that have changed this squirrel\u2019s coloration are not\ndefinitely known, but climatic conditions are probably at least\npartially responsible. The North Rim is approximately a thousand feet\nhigher than the South Rim and is considerably colder. At this higher\nelevation much of the Kaibab squirrel\u2019s habitat falls within the\nCanadian Life Zone. This in turn makes certain vegetable food available\nwhich is rare or unknown on the South Rim. Thus diet also may have\nsomething to do with its unusual appearance.\nAt various times the Kaibab squirrel has been known as a distinct\nspecies, _Sciurus kaibabensis_; at others, it has been considered merely\na subspecies of _Sciurus aberti_. The latter is its standing at this\ntime. Regardless of specific rank, it is a form that should be\nstringently protected. The population is small and goes through the same\nfluctuations as _Sciurus aberti_. During the summer of 1946 only one\nindividual was known in the area around Grand Canyon Lodge, where they\nusually were found in some numbers. At such times the heedless\ndestruction of only a few squirrels could conceivably result in the\nextermination of this rare and beautiful animal.\n                         Arizona gray squirrel\n        _Sciurus arizonensis_ (Latin: shade-tail ... of Arizona)\nRange: Central to southeastern Arizona and adjacent parts of western New\nMexico in the Upper Sonoran and Transition Life Zones.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: Associated with the native black walnuts of canyons, or often\nfound among the pines on canyon rims.\nDescription: The common gray tree squirrel to be found in the range\ngiven above. The Arizona gray is a large animal. Total length is from 20\nto 24 inches with a large tail accounting for from 10 to 12 inches of\nthis measurement. In the typical form the color is dark gray above with\nunderparts and feet pure white. The tail also is dark gray with a\nsilvery white margin. The finest examples of this species may be found\nalong the edge of the Mogollon Rim in Arizona and New Mexico. Farther\nsouth the pelage often has a yellowish or brownish tinge. In the\nmountains along the border the Arizona gray squirrel should not be\nconfused with the Mexican fox squirrel (Apache squirrel) which here\nbarely invades the United States. The Mexican cousin, about the same\nsize as _Sciurus arizonensis_, is definitely yellowish brown and has\nlighter underparts of the same color. Like other large tree squirrels of\nthe west, the Arizona gray builds a bulky nest of leaves and twigs,\nusually in the upper branches of a deciduous tree. Young, four or five\nto a litter; under exceptionally favorable conditions two litters may be\nreared in one season.\nWhen compared with the royal tribe of Abert\u2019s squirrels, this common\ngray animal of the Southwest seems but a peasant. When it is seen alone\ncomparisons are forgotten. Deliberate in its movements, whether crossing\nthe forest floor or traveling the leafy aisles of the tree tops, it\nseems always to have calculated its next maneuver. The result is a\ncareless grace that presents the sturdy body and beautiful tail to the\nbest advantage. Calm in temperament and with but little of the\nsuspicious nature that is characteristic of the smaller squirrels, the\nArizona gray may easily be tamed in outdoor surroundings and becomes one\nof the most satisfactory of wild friends. It is not recommended,\nhowever, that they be fed from the hand or handled at any time.\n\u201cFamiliarity breeds contempt\u201d is a saying that does not apply to humans\nalone. A squirrel\u2019s bite can be serious as well as painful.\nBoth Mearns and Bailey, who wrote of this species many years ago,\nmention it as occurring mostly among the walnut trees of the Upper\nSonoran Life Zone. Perhaps during the intervening years the press of\ncivilization has driven them from their chosen habitat into a higher\nelevation. At any rate, although they still frequent the more isolated\nvalleys, they are now found also in considerable numbers among the pines\nof the Transition Life Zone. The rough broken country along the Mogollon\nRim seems best suited to their requirements, and they are now quite\nabundant there.\n    [Illustration: Arizona gray squirrel]\nAlong the border of the Upper Sonoran and Transition Life Zones this\nadaptable animal finds a wide variety of food. Although the squirrels\ngenerally are known as gatherers and storers of nuts, there are many\nother types of vegetable food that they will take when conditions\nwarrant. The cambium layer of bark and leaf buds of various species of\ntrees are eaten in spring when nut stores have been depleted. Berries,\nfruit, and even flowers form a considerable part of the diet during the\nsummer. In the fall the ripening crop of pine nuts and walnuts provides\nnot only food for immediate use but stores for the long winter season\nwhen, unless enough has been laid by, the unfortunate may starve to\ndeath. The gathering period is a time of unremitting labor. From dawn to\ndusk the squirrels work feverishly carrying nuts to the hiding places\nthey have selected. Sometimes these are in a hollow tree or a nest, but\nusually the harvest is buried in the humus and debris that collect about\nthe bases of trees.\nThere are two phases to the work. In the first the squirrel works in the\ntree cutting off the cones or nuts and letting them fall to the ground.\nWhen a considerable number have been thrown down, it descends and\ncarries them away, one at a time. The latter operation is the most\ndangerous since enemies have an undue advantage over this aerialist when\nit is on the ground. During the harvest the squirrels plainly show the\neffects of their work. In gathering pine cones the fur of their forelegs\nand undersides becomes matted with pitch. The juice of walnut fruits\n(related to the eastern black walnut, _Juglans nigra_, which the early\npioneers used as a source of dye for coloring their hand-loomed cloth)\nstains their underparts a dirty brown. These marks of their labor remain\nwith them until the summer coat is shed to make way for the heavy winter\npelage.\nWhen the generic name _Sciurus_ (meaning shade-tail) is mentioned, I am\nreminded of an Arizona gray squirrel I observed several years ago.\nDuring late fall my wife and I were camped near the headwaters of the\nHassayampa River in a mixed forest of hardwoods and conifers. Our\narrival had interrupted the work of a squirrel which was gathering\nwalnuts in the immediate vicinity, but he soon became accustomed to our\npresence and renewed activities. Every sunny hour he was busy storing\nthe nuts, many of them at the base of an old pine tree near camp.\nShortly thereafter a fall storm set in and lasted for several days. It\ndeveloped into a pattern of misty drizzle followed by periods of\nclearing weather when the sun might appear for a few minutes. During\nsunny intervals the squirrel would appear, but as soon as it became\novercast again he would as quickly disappear. Finally we discovered his\nretreat. When it would threaten more rain he would run up the trunk of\nthe pine to the first branch. Here he would turn his rump to the hole\nand hunch up into a small furry ball with his long bushy tail laid\nforward over his back and head and extending down in front of his nose,\nforming an admirable protection against the few drops that spattered\ndown through the thick foliage overhead.\nSquirrels are not the only animals who use their bushy tails for\nprotection against the elements. Many mammals curl up and wrap the tail\naround themselves for warmth, but only the squirrel tribe has a tail\nlong, wide, and flat enough to be used as a roof. Though the origin of\nthe term _Sciurus_ has been lost, it is not too far fetched to suppose\nthat it was suggested by a squirrel\u2019s use of its tail as a parasol.\n                     Spruce squirrel, Pine squirrel\n                     (DOUGLAS SQUIRREL, CHICKAREE)\n  _Tamiasciurus hudsonicus fremonti_ (Greek: tamia, steward and Latin:\n      sciurus, shade-tail ... of the Hudson, named after Fremont)\n    [Illustration: spruce squirrel]\nRange: Utah, Colorado, Arizona and New Mexico in the Hudsonian and\nCanadian Life Zones.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: Conifer forests, preferably spruce, in the higher mountains.\nDescription: A small gray squirrel, usually the only squirrel to be\nfound at the elevation at which it lives. Total length 13 to 14 inches.\nTail 5 to 6 inches. Two distinct colors of pelage are seasonal. The\nwinter coat is olive gray to rufous gray above with lighter underparts;\nthe summer coat is brownish gray to yellowish gray with almost white\nbelly and feet. A black stripe along the sides is prominent at all\nseasons. The tail is narrow and noticeably shorter than the body. It is\ngray beneath, rufous gray above, with black border and a black tip.\nLittle is known of the breeding habits. The four young are born in early\nsummer and by August are usually out foraging with the mother.\nSpruce squirrels (distribution shown in accompanying map) include\nseveral of the more than two dozen varieties of red squirrels in the\nUnited States belonging to the species _hudsonicus_. Combined with\nseveral subspecies of the Douglas squirrels, (species _douglasi_, the\n\u201cchickaree\u201d of the far western mountains), they make up the genus\n_Tamiasciurus_. This term, a combining form of _Tamias_ (the genus of\nchipmunks) and _Sciurus_ (that of squirrels) clearly indicates\nrelationship of the red squirrels to both groups. It is equally apparent\nin the field where the short narrow tail, the black stripe along the\nside, and the nervous disposition remind one of the chipmunks, while the\narboreal habits, comparatively large size, and coughing bark are\ndistinctively squirrel-like.\nThe spruce squirrel is seldom, if ever, found below an elevation of 6500\nfeet, and then only in the shady canyons on the northern exposure of\nmountains. From this low it will be found up to timberline, or rather\njust below that point at which the trees are too stunted to offer the\nrequired protection. It prefers the dense shade of heavily forested\nareas, so is rare near the southern limit of its range, and increasingly\ncommon in the northern portion.\nIn common with the rest of its group, this bright-eyed little animal\nkeeps well informed on everything that goes on in the territory it has\nchosen as its own. Any intruder is thoroughly investigated, then as\nthoroughly castigated, and driven out if possible. Since these squirrels\nseem to recognize each other\u2019s domain, a trespasser of its own kind\nusually leaves at the first sign of trouble. With larger animals and\nhumans the attack consists of psychological rather than physical\nwarfare. From a limb at a safe distance above the ground, the doughty\nwarrior chatters and scolds with increasing vehemence as long as a\npassive interest is displayed by the imagined adversary. At the first\nthreatening movement it disappears in a flash around the opposite side\nof the tree. Scratching noises and falling flakes of bark, together with\nnoises of peevish defiance, indicates that it is working its way up the\ntrunk. Suddenly it reappears on another limb some distance above the\nfirst and the real show begins. Paroxysms of rage, stamping of feet,\nwaving of tail, and streams of invective all are meant to show that one\nstep closer spells trouble. A few squeaks from your pursed lips and this\ntremendous bluff gives up to curiosity. In a few minutes the erstwhile\nchallenger is back on the first limb trying to make out what this\nstrange creature is about. This amusing procedure can be carried out\nover and over again, and usually is, just to observe the stuttering\nrages of which this tiny creature is capable. With more considerate\ntreatment they soon become quite tame, although even then a quick\nmovement will send them helter skelter to the closest tree.\nIt is well that this squirrel is a quick and tireless worker. The seeds\nit extracts from the spruce cones are so tiny it takes an enormous\nnumber of them to provide that energy. With such a quantity to handle,\nit is not so careful in storing the crop as some larger squirrels. A\ncomparatively few cones are buried in the soft loam beneath the trees;\nthe rest are stuffed into holes beneath the spreading roots or simply\npiled in heaps near the base of the trunk. In a year when cones are\nplentiful there may be a bushel or more in one of these piles. With\nseveral such piles within easy reach of the warm nest fastened in the\nbranches of a nearby conifer, the small harvester has prospects of an\neasy winter ahead. Only in the most inclement weather are these active\nanimals confined to their nests. They keep tunnels open to their\nsupplies, and each snowfall adds to the security of the caches. All\nwinter long the stockpiles diminish while the snow beneath some favorite\nperch becomes littered with the scales and discarded centers of the\ncones. By spring, which comes late at this elevation, the cones are gone\nand the squirrel returns to its summer diet of leaf buds, seeds,\nberries, mushrooms, and herbs.\nThe spruce squirrel is the last of what might be called the true\nsquirrels in this book and, because the group has much in common as\nregards food, enemies, and relations to mankind, a short summary might\nbe in order.\nAs has been mentioned, the principal diet of these animals is vegetable.\nHowever, all of them, if opportunity offers, will take birds\u2019 eggs and\nyoung birds. This is not intended in any way as a condemnation of the\nsquirrel tribe. Their inroads on the bird population are what might be\ntermed \u201cnatural losses.\u201d Nature long ago established a norm in bird\nreproduction which takes such losses into account.\nThe enemies of squirrels are legion. From the air, the larger hawks and\nowls, and even eagles, are ever alert to swoop in on them. On the ground\nlynx, bobcats, foxes, and coyotes take their toll. In northern Utah and\nColorado the marten is one of the most important local controls on the\nsquirrel population. Fast and powerful, the marten is equally at home on\nthe ground or in the trees, and it is a fortunate squirrel that can\nescape one. The toll taken by all of these predators is high, yet the\nnatural fecundity of the squirrel is so great that the population\nsometimes gets out of hand and disease has to eliminate the surplus.\nIn their relationship to man the squirrels are among the most remarkable\nof our native mammals. It is not ordinarily the purpose of this book to\npoint out the economic importance of our mammals, but the beneficial\nwork carried on the squirrels is too important to pass by. One of the\nmost valuable natural resources that America has is forests. To the arid\nSouthwest the mantles of living green that cover the mountains are\ninvaluable. These are sweeping statements, but they are sober facts.\nSquirrels play a considerable part in perpetuating this national\nheritage. The fact that they do this more or less accidentally merely\nserves to call attention to the subtle patterns in which all living\nthings move to serve one another. Take their simple mechanics of storing\na pine cone, for instance. A hole is dug to a depth of several inches in\nthe soft duff under a shady conifer. The cone is pushed firmly into the\nbottom of the hole and tamped into place with several vigorous shoves of\nthe nose. Then the hole is carefully filled and smoothed over so that no\nmarauder will discover it. This procedure may be repeated hundreds of\ntimes by one individual. If the animal never returns (and the rate of\nmortality among squirrels is high), the cone can be considered planted.\nNot only is it planted at the correct depth and in the most suitable\nmaterial for successful germination and growth, but it is full of plump\nfertile seeds. Through some instinct the squirrel knows which nuts and\ncones are healthy and fully developed. If you doubt this, examine some\nof those they have left on the tree. Invariably they will be infested by\ninsects or \u201cinferior\u201d in some other respect. One of the favorite sources\nof pine nuts for reforestation projects in the Northern States is the\nstockpiles of the red squirrel. The scales of the cones are tightly\nclosed when they are taken, but as they open on the drying floor the\nhealthy, fertile nuts prove the unerring judgment of the harvester.\n                        Northern flying squirrel\n  _Glaucomys sabrinus_ (Greek: glauco, silvery and Greek: mys, mouse)\nRange: Widely distributed throughout most of our Northern States and\nCanada. In the section covered by this book, found only in northeastern\nand south central Utah, with possible occurrence in northwestern\nColorado.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: Associated with conifer forests of Transition to Alpine Life\nZones.\nDescription: Our only airborne mammal with a long bushy tail. Total\nlength 9\u00be to 11\u00bd inches. Tail 4\u00bd to 5\u00bd inches. Characteristic of this\nspecies is the fold of skin along each side from the fore to the hind\nleg. There is considerable color variation in the numerous subspecies of\nthis squirrel. In general the upper parts vary from dark brown to\ncinnamon brown. Sides of face gray; underparts white to pinkish cinnamon\nbeneath. Hind feet are brown, fore feet gray. The flying membrane is\nbrownish black above, white to cinnamon beneath. The eyes are large and\ndark brown. Young, two to six in a litter, born in spring; a second\nlitter is sometimes produced in early autumn.\nBecause flying squirrels are almost entirely nocturnal, they are seldom\nseen. This is unfortunate, for they are among the most interesting\nforest creatures. Probably more people have seen flying squirrels\nthrough the predations of a house cat than in any other way. Gentle and\nunafraid, the squirrels fall easy prey to this night prowler, which\nsometimes brings them home to show its owners. Strangely enough, the\nvictims often are not injured seriously, and if taken from the cat and\nallowed to recover from their initial fright they will glide about the\nroom with much of the grace they display in the wild.\nProperly speaking, these squirrels do not fly; that is to say, they are\nincapable of sustaining level or ascending flight. Rather they climb to\nsome height in a tree then launch out and glide to a lower point,\nusually the trunk of another tree. As the angle is usually quite sharp\nthey attain considerable speed. They check this momentum by inclining\nupwards just before reaching their objective. This results in a\nfour-point landing against the tree trunk, sometimes with an impact that\ncan be heard for some little distance on a quiet night. During these\nflights, which may extend 50 yards or more, they are able to change\ndirection or maneuver against wind currents. This is done by\nmanipulating the flying membrane and using the tail as a rudder. After a\nflight they usually ascend to the safety of the foliage above. They\ncannot be considered awkward on the ground, but it is not their chosen\nhabitat. Flying squirrels are more arboreal than any of our mammals,\nexcepting a few species of bats.\n    [Illustration: northern flying squirrel]\nLittle is known of the habits of this unusual squirrel, but they differ\nconsiderably from those of its relatives who are active during the sunny\nhours. Instead of living in a bulky nest hung in tree branches, this\nnocturnal aerialist chooses a hollow tree or an abandoned woodpecker\u2019s\nhole where the sun\u2019s rays never penetrate. Nests have been found also\nunder slabs of bark hanging to old lightning-blasted snags. Lined with\nsoft fibers and shredded bark, they often shelter whole families of\nflying squirrels for, unlike the other squirrels, these gentle creatures\nget along together. In fact, they might almost be considered gregarious.\nContrary to ordinary squirrel behavior, they never bark or scold. Their\nonly utterance is a fine whistling squeak, and this is heard usually\nonly in the nest.\nThough delicate in appearance the flying squirrel is extremely hardy. It\nis abroad throughout the winter, being confined to its nest only during\nstormy weather. It stores food for the winter, but its caches are\nusually above ground in hollow trees and crevices rather than buried in\nthe loam. Their food consists mostly of pine nuts, seeds, and acorns,\nbut they are also fond of meat. Many a flying squirrel has met its death\ntrying to take the bait from a trap set for larger game. This taste is\nunexplained; it is not known to prey on other animals.\n     Genus _Eutamias_ (Greek: eu, well or good and tamias, steward)\nThere are at least four species of chipmunks native to the area covered\nby this book. Ordinarily but one, or perhaps two, species of a genus\nhave been chosen for discussion. In this case, however, the chipmunks\nare such provocative little creatures and their presence causes so much\ninterest that all four species will be included, although briefly. Since\nthe ranges and life zones of some of them overlap in many areas,\npositive identification of a species will be difficult in those places,\nbut in others one species will be dominant or alone. Here the more\nsubtle characteristics and behavior of that type can be fixed in mind,\nand in time it will be less difficult to separate one from the other.\nRemember that most of these species have several subspecies. These\ngenerally occur along the upper or lower edges of the life zone\nfrequented by the type. In the field they are usually indistinguishable\nfrom the type to any but the most practiced observer.\n  1. Colorado chipmunk (_Eutamias quadrivittatus_)\n    [Illustration: Colorado chipmunk]\nRange: Northern Arizona, northern New Mexico, most of Utah, and all but\nthe most northern portion of Colorado. This chipmunk lives largely in\nthe Transition Life Zone. The closely related species _umbrinus_,\ncommonly called \u201cUinta chipmunk\u201d inhabits the Canadian and Hudsonian\nLife Zones in the Uinta and Wasatch Mountains of northeastern Utah.\n    [Illustration: _Colorado_]\n    [Illustration: Uinta chipmunk]\n    [Illustration: _Uinta_]\n  2. Gray-necked chipmunk (_Eutamias cinereicollis_)\n    [Illustration: gray-necked chipmunk]\nRange: Central Arizona eastward into southwestern and south central New\nMexico. Total length 7\u00bd to 10 inches. Tail 3\u00bd to 4\u00bd inches. Transition\nLife Zone and above. _Neck and shoulders gray._\n    [Illustration: _Gray-necked, Cliff_]\n  3. Least chipmunk (_Eutamias minimus_)\n    [Illustration: least chipmunk]\nRange: Western Colorado, western Utah, northern and eastern Arizona,\nnorthern and central New Mexico. Inhabits all zones from Upper Sonoran\nto Alpine. Total length 6\u2154 to 9 inches. Tail 3 to 4\u00bd inches. _The\nsmallest chipmunk with proportionally the longest tail. Tail carried\nstraight up when running._\n    [Illustration: _Least_]\n  4. Cliff chipmunk (_Eutamias dorsalis_)\n    [Illustration: cliff chipmunk]\nRange: North and western Utah extending through southeastern Arizona and\nwestern New Mexico. Found mainly in the Upper Sonoran Zone. Total length\n8\u2158 to 9\u00bd inches. Tail 3\u2158 to 4\u00bd inches. _The most indistinctly striped of\nany of these chipmunks._\nGenerally speaking, chipmunks are the link between ground squirrels and\ntree squirrels. Physically they have characteristics of both groups, a\ncombination that is pleasing indeed. A field mark that is a positive\nidentification of the chipmunk group is the striped face. In addition to\nfacial stripes, chipmunks also are striped along the back. The pattern\nconsists of a dark to black median line bordered by two more similar\nlines of varying intensity along each side. These fine lines are\nseparated by broader bands of contrasting color ranging from chestnut to\nwhite. The latter characteristic is shared by several of the ground\nsquirrels, which often are confused with chipmunks. Predominant colors\nof southwestern chipmunks run to rufous, chestnut, and grayish white\nwith the dark to black lines mentioned above. Underparts are always\nconsiderably lighter than the back. Chipmunks\u2019 tails are usually shorter\nthan their bodies, flattened horizontally, and short haired when\ncompared with tree squirrels. All species have cheek pouches of\nconsiderable capacity.\nAs will be seen from ranges given above, habitat of the chipmunks\nencompasses the whole area from sagebrush-covered foothills to\ntimberline. Their densest population, however, is to be found in thick\nforest about midway between these two extremes. Here their bright colors\nand sprightly actions do much to enliven somber surroundings. Despite\ntheir wonderful climbing ability, they are most often seen at ground\nlevel or just a little higher. They are fond of areas containing fallen\ntrees. The prostrate trunks serve admirably as highways for their forays\nin search of food, and under the litter which accumulates around them\nare many havens into which a hard pressed chipmunk may pop when pursued\nby an enemy. The territory appropriated by each of these little\ncreatures is explored with the most minute care, and all places of\nrefuge are noted for future emergencies. Any attempt to chase them will\nreveal their uncanny memory for these temporary hiding places and that\nthey are seldom at any great distance from one.\nTheir permanent homes usually are underground, excavated beneath the\nroots of trees or in rocky terrain. At the end of a narrow tunnel a room\nof considerable size is worked out. The dirt is often carried out by a\nside tunnel, which is permanently plugged with soil when the excavation\nis completed. The underground chamber is lined with soft grasses and\nfibers as insulation against the cold. At the higher elevations the\nground may freeze to a depth of several feet during the long winters.\nPermanent nests are sometimes built in hollow logs, but almost never in\nholes in upright trees. Chipmunks have little taste for upstairs\napartments. In addition to the large cavity which contains the nest,\nseveral storage chambers are constructed to hold the winter\u2019s food.\nThese may be connected to the main apartment by tunnels or may be\nentirely independent of living quarters and some distance away. As a\nspecial feature, many of the more elaborate homes have a separate\nchamber reserved for sanitary purposes. Like most of our native rodents,\nchipmunks are fastidiously clean in their habits.\nIt is difficult to discuss the habits of a group as large and of such\nwide distribution as our southwestern chipmunks in any but a most\nsuperficial manner. In general they are much more terrestrial than\nsquirrels and prefer brushy, rock terrain to the more open forests\nfrequented by their larger relatives. Nevertheless, they are adept\nclimbers and do not hesitate to take to the trees in search of food or\nto escape their enemies. These arboreal excursions are usually limited\nto one tree; they do not ordinarily attempt the daring leaps from one to\nanother that are characteristic of the squirrels. They progress quietly\nwhile on the ground, threading their way through the undergrowth so\nexpertly that their presence is often undetected.\nNormally chipmunks are shy creatures at first acquaintance, but if their\nfriendship is encouraged they often become bold to the point of being\nunwelcome. Woe to the camper whose grub box is invaded during his\nabsence. These tiny opportunists can carry away a surprising amount of\nfood in a very short while. Their natural diet differs widely according\nto habitat. Chipmunks of the foothills eat a great variety of grass\nseeds, berries, and cactus fruits. These are possibly the favorite foods\nof the whole group, but as the elevation increases this supply becomes\nlimited and is supplemented by juniper berries, acorns, and pine nuts.\nConsiderable quantities of these less perishable foods are laid away for\nfuture needs. During the summer months herbage, fungi, small tubers, and\nsome insects add variety to an otherwise dry menu.\nIt is doubtful if any southwestern chipmunks enter true hibernation\nduring the winter. Those of lower elevations are active throughout the\ncolder months, except when a period of exceptionally inclement weather\nwill force them to remain underground for a few days. At higher\nelevations they will disappear, perhaps for weeks at a time, but it is\nassumed they remain active in their underground quarters. The fact that\nduring the fall they do not lay on a coat of fat, like many species\nwhich are known to hibernate, substantiates this theory.\nBreeding habits of chipmunks are not too well known. The number of young\naverages from four to six. Those species living at low elevation\nsometimes bear two litters each year; those at higher elevations are\nlimited to one. Like the ground squirrels, the young are able to leave\nthe burrow when but little more than half grown. At this early age they\npresent a rather ludicrous appearance with their large heads and\nsparsely-haired tails. This is a time of great danger, for the\nyoungsters are easily caught by predators which would be eluded with\nlittle difficulty by a mature individual. Principal predators of the\nchipmunks are bobcats, hawks, foxes, and coyotes. The last two often dig\nout the burrows. The marten is possibly their worst enemy, but\nfortunately for the chipmunk tribe is a rare animal throughout its\nrange.\nChipmunks are quite common in several of our southwestern National Parks\nand Monuments. Despite signs to the contrary, the public cannot resist\nfeeding these little beggars, and many are the situations that develop\nfrom this practice. I recall camping at Bryce Canyon National Park where\nthe least chipmunk is a common resident. Upon our return from Rainbow\nPoint one day we spied a chipmunk with bulging cheek pouches leaving our\ntent for its den somewhere on the edge of the canyon rim. We found that\nour visitor had entered the grub box and gnawed a neat hole in the top\nof a carton of rice. Although we had been gone but a short time, more\nthan half the contents had already been carried away. This was a state\nof affairs that needed mending so we decided to teach the marauder a\nlesson. On his return trip we waited until he had entered the carton and\nthen clapped a dishtowel over the hole. The cellophane window in the\nside of the carton gave us an excellent view of our prisoner.\nInterrupted in his pilfering, he at first tried to get out of the carton\nbut, finding no exit, returned to stuffing his cheek pouches with more\nrice. When they were filled to capacity he calmly sat back and returned\nstare for stare. In the end we let him go and gave him the rest of the\nrice, exacting such payment as we could by taking pictures of his\nlabors.\n                     Golden-mantled ground squirrel\n _Citellus lateralis_ (Latin: citellus, swift, and lateralis, belonging\n          to the side, referring to the stripe along the side)\nRange: Western United States and Canada. In the area covered by this\nbook to be found in western Colorado, from northeastern Utah south\nthrough central Utah to central Arizona thence east into western New\nMexico.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: Higher mountains of this area. Usually found in evergreen\nforests of the Transition, Hudsonian, and Canadian Life Zones. It\nsometimes occurs near the upper limits of the Upper Sonoran Zone.\nDescription: A chipmunk-like ground squirrel lacking the stripes along\nthe sides of the face characteristic of the chipmunks. Total length 8\u00bd\nto 12\u00bd inches. Tail 2\u00bd to 4\u00bd inches. There is much color variation in\nthis species. Head coppery to chestnut, upper surfaces of body brownish\ngray to buffy. A light to white stripe bordered with black is present on\neach side of the back. Under surface of tail gray to yellow. Tail short\nbut fully haired. Under surfaces of body lighter, gray to buffy gray.\nLegs short, body chunky in comparison with chipmunks. Young, four to\neight, with but one litter each year.\nThe golden-mantled ground squirrel has been chosen from the rather large\ngroup of southwestern ground squirrels because it is most typically a\nmountain dwelling species. As such it does not have the advantages of a\nlong summer season like its lowland relatives. This results in two\ndefinite periods each year. One is feverish activity during summer, a\ntime of breeding, rearing the young, storing food, and laying on fat for\nthe cold months ahead. The other in winter is the exact opposite\u2014a long\ninterval of hibernation when, buried deep under the snow in a snug\nburrow, the squirrels sleep away the winter.\nThough hampered by the short summers of higher elevations, the\ngolden-mantled ground squirrels manage to lengthen the season slightly\nby a very simple expedient. Instinct prompts them to dig their burrows\non a southern exposure, often under the base of a log or in a rock\nslide. Here the snow melts away first and they often have a bare spot of\nground in front of the burrow several weeks in advance of the season.\nThe squirrels emerge from their long sleep weak and emaciated, and their\nfirst days above ground are spent soaking up the warm sunshine and\nwaking up, so to speak. During this period they live on stores laid away\nthe previous summer, and by the time the snow has melted they are fully\nactive and ready for mating.\n    [Illustration: golden-mantled ground squirrel]\nAs with the ground squirrels of lower areas, the summer diet consists\nlargely of whatever starts to grow first. During late spring, grass,\nbuds, young leaves, and flowers are eaten. Later, seeds of the annuals\nare gathered, berries are taken whenever possible, and insects often\nform a considerable part of the diet. As fall comes on, acorns, pine\nnuts, and a great number of smaller seeds and fruits become available.\nAt this time the ground squirrels must not only lay on enough fat to\nmaintain themselves through hibernation, but must also store away enough\nfood to tide them over between the time of their emergence and the\nappearance of new growth. Evidently this is an adaptation forced upon\nthem by the exceptionally long winter season. Most rodents which lay on\ncoats of fat preparatory to hibernation depend almost entirely on it to\ncarry them through. With a hibernating period of from 5 to 7 months,\nhowever, it is not difficult to realize the problems this ground\nsquirrel must face.\nThough the golden-mantled ground squirrel resembles the chipmunks in\nappearance, its temperament is quite different. Chipmunks are bright,\nnervous little sprites, always pursuing their activities with explosive\nenergy. The ground squirrels move more sedately, as though they had\nplanned every move and there was no hurry. They love to lie in the sun\nin some exposed place and watch the rest of the world go by. In habitat,\ntoo, the species differ materially. Chipmunks choose thick undergrowth\nwhere they can go about their business unobserved. Ground squirrels\nprefer more exposed locations where they take their chances in the open,\nbut with one eye always cocked aloft as insurance against attack by hawk\nor eagle. Creatures of the earth, they are always reluctant to climb.\nRarely do they ascend more than a few feet, and then only to reach some\nespecially toothsome delicacy that their keen noses have detected in a\nlow shrub or small tree.\nWith its wide distribution, visitors to the southwestern mountains can\nhardly fail to notice this golden-headed member of the ground squirrel\nfamily. It is easily tamed; too easily in fact for, like the chipmunk,\nit can quickly wear out its welcome. In many of the National Parks and\nMonuments they compete with chipmunks for the crumbs around camp sites\nand picnic tables. Visitors find their cunning way irresistible and feed\nthem despite warnings to the contrary. Because they do tame so easily\nthere is always danger that some well-meaning person will attempt to\npick them up. This can lead to unpleasant results. Their long sharp\nincisors can inflict a serious wound.\nOne of the most fascinating places to observe both chipmunks and these\nground squirrels is from the windows of the long tunnel leading\nnorthward out of Zion National Park. On the talus slopes beneath the\nwindows a great number of these rodents take up summer quarters,\ndepending for food on the largesse distributed by visitors as they eat\ntheir picnic lunches on the broad ledges of the windows. Their constant\nmovements as they run among the rocks seeking stray crumbs result in\nmany a collision and often an angry dispute as well. This proves a\ndangerous game, as rocks sometimes will be loosened by their movements\nand roll down the steep incline. I recall seeing a ground squirrel\ncrushed by one of these miniature rock slides in 1946.\n                        White-tailed prairie dog\n _Cynomys gunnisoni_ (Greek: kun, a dog and mys, mouse ... for Captain\n                Gunnison whose expedition took the type)\n    [Illustration: white-tailed prairie dog]\nRange: Western Colorado and eastern Utah to central Arizona and New\nMexico.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: Grassy meadows and mountain parks mainly in the Transition Life\nZone although they are often found both above and below this area.\nDescription: A ground-dwelling rodent somewhat resembling a ground\nsquirrel but several times larger than the biggest species of that\ngenus. Total length 12\u00bd to 15 inches. Tail 2\u00bc to 2\u00bd inches. Weight 1\u00bd to\n2\u00bd pounds. Color buff to cinnamon buff, the short fully-haired tail\ntipped with white. Sides of face darker with a dark area over the eyes.\nLegs, feet, and underparts pale cinnamon buff. Young, usually five in\nnumber, born in early summer.\n_Cynomys gunnisoni_ is the representative species of the western group\nof prairie dogs. The two remaining of the group, _Cynomys leucurus_ and\n_Cynomys parvidens_, both white-tailed species, are very similar and\npossibly will be classified with _Cynomys gunnisoni_ in the future.\n_Cynomys leucurus_ is found in northwestern Colorado and northeastern\nUtah, while _Cynomys parvidens_ is native to mountainous valleys in\ncentral Utah.\nThe common name \u201cwhite-tailed prairie dog\u201d is usually applied to\n_Cynomys gunnisoni_, the most widely distributed member of the race. The\nrange of this species borders on but seldom overlaps that of the\nblack-tailed prairie dog which lives farther east and at lower\nelevation. Climatic and geographic barriers separating these two races\nare largely responsible for pronounced differences in their habits.\nPrairie dogs are gregarious creatures, perhaps more so than any other\nrodent. Formerly the black-tail species inhabited countless thousands of\nacres in the Great Plains region. A single colony might occupy an area\nseveral miles in diameter and number many thousands. On this relatively\nflat land, every home site was equally advantageous and the grass and\nherbage all ideally suited to the prairie dog\u2019s use. Periodic flooding\nof their burrows on these level prairies was avoided by building conical\nmounds with a rim of earth around the entrance. This ingenious practice,\nsimple though it seems, represents a long step in the adaptation of\nthese animals to their environment.\nWhite-tailed prairie dogs, on the other hand, are limited to the narrow\nvalleys and infrequent open meadows of the mountains. Here there is\nneither room nor food to maintain the huge colonies characteristic of\nthe black-tailed. Under these conditions the number of individuals in a\ntown will vary from a few to 200, seldom more. If the town becomes\ncrowded, many of the inhabitants may migrate to some more favorable\nlocation. This sometimes entails a trip of several miles, a hazardous\nundertaking for a small animal whose only escape from large predators is\nin an underground burrow.\nFood of this mountain prairie dog is varied. The standard diet of grass\nand roots is augmented with browse, bark, and tubers. Bulbs of mariposas\nare taken wherever available. Coarse-leaved annuals such as sunflowers\nare not passed by. In addition to this vegetable diet, worms, beetles,\nand larvae as well as mature forms of most insects are eaten whenever\npossible.\nBurrows of white-tailed prairie dogs, though comfortable, are not made\nwith the painstaking care found in those of the lowland species. There\nis no need for a conical mound or built-up rim because there is\nvirtually no drainage problem on the sloping terrain of the mountains.\nNaturally the burrows will not be excavated in the path of flood waters,\nbut on higher ground. Earth brought out from the underground workings is\npiled to one side or in front of the entrance. The mound thus formed is\nused as a place to sun bathe or, even more important, as a look-out post\nfrom which to see all that goes on. Because these small colonies do not\nhave the advantage of numbers, each individual must be especially alert\nto approaching danger. Burrows often have more than one entrance, each\nwith its well-packed sentry post at hand, the underground plan is\nsimple. It consists of a more or less vertical shaft from which one or\nmore tunnels extend horizontally. It is common supposition that the\nprairie dog digs deeply enough to strike water. This is not so; many\nburrows do not go deeper than 6 feet. In any event, they penetrate just\nfar enough to insure a comfortable average temperature in both summer\nand winter. Water requirements of prairie dogs are met largely by the\nsucculent nature of their food. It is also presumed that during late\nsummer months when the diet consists to some extent of seeds, a chemical\nprocess within the system transforms some of the starches to water.\nThe nest is usually situated in an underground room dug at the end of a\ntunnel, less often somewhere along its length. It is a bulky structure,\nbuilt of shredded bark or coarse grasses and lined with the softest\nfibers obtainable. In these modern days prairie dogs do not object to\npaper, rags, and wool.\nThe life of the prairie dog is simple. Early in the spring it emerges\nfrom hibernation, a bit groggy but still well padded with fat. This\nnourishment sustains it until the first green shoots of grass appear.\nFrom then on food is obtainable in an ever increasing supply, limited\nonly by the distance to which these indifferent runners dare venture\nfrom their burrows. Summer is a time of eating, of dozing on the mounds\nin the warm sun, and of conversing with neighbors in the shrill barking\nwhistles characteristic of this group. It is also a time of constant\nvigilance against predators, of dust bathing to rid themselves of mites\nand fleas, and of rearing the young. The four to six young are born in\nlate spring and first appear at the burrow entrance when about the size\nof an average adult ground squirrel. Within a few days they are foraging\nfor themselves, and about 3 weeks later are able to make their own way.\nAt this time the mother frequently deserts them and builds herself a new\nburrow, leaving her offspring to divide the old homestead as best they\ncan. As fall draws near, a thick coat of fat is put on, and by the\nmiddle of October most of the town\u2019s inhabitants have retired for the\nlong winter\u2019s sleep.\n                   Yellow-bellied marmot (woodchuck)\n   _Marmota flaviventris_ (Marmota, Dutch name of European species of\n          woodchuck. Latin: flavus, yellow, and venter, belly)\nRange: Northwestern United States. Common in northern to south central\nUtah, northern and southeastern Colorado, and extreme north central New\nMexico.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: Canadian, Hudsonian, and Alpine Life Zones in rock slides,\nrocky hillsides, under rock piles, and around outcroppings in mountain\nmeadows. Seldom found below the Canadian Zone but often occurring in the\nAlpine Zone to the very summits of the mountains.\nDescription: A large, dark, brown marmot with a comparatively long bushy\ntail. Total length 19 to 28 inches. Tail 4\u00bd to 9 inches. Body color,\nyellowish brown to dark brown above; under parts yellow. The body fur\nhas a grizzled appearance. Sides of neck buffy, and sides of face dark\nbrown to black. Light brown to white between the eyes. The feet are buff\nto dark brown. Tail dark brown above, lighter below. Young, five to\neight, born in early summer.\nThis large western marmot is not too far removed from the ground\nsquirrels in either relationship or habits. It is the largest\nground-dwelling rodent native to the Southwest. As mentioned above,\nmarmots occupy a tremendous altitudinal range, reaching from above\ntimberline down into the Transition Life Zone. This distribution from\narctic to almost desert conditions is responsible for many variations in\ntheir habits. Most important is the practice of estivation by those\nindividuals which live at the lower elevations. This summer sleep is\nused as a defense against that period of drought between rainy seasons.\nIt usually starts early in June and ends about the latter part of July.\nIn the higher life zones there is no lack of green food throughout the\nsummer, consequently marmots there remain active.\nBecause of large size and ability to make good use of its sharp teeth\nand claws, the marmot\u2019s life is not so restricted as that of many\nsmaller ground-dwelling rodents. It has enemies, to be sure. Bears,\nmountain lions, wolves, lynxes, wolverines, and eagles all are alert for\na possible catch. Yet it is so well on guard and has so many burrows\nthat it is next to impossible to catch one above ground. Should the\nmarmot be surprised away from a burrow, its bold show of defense often\ngains enough time to work its way to a place of safety. When cornered\nits appearance alone is enough to make the average predator pause and\nconsider. With hair standing on end and long claws at the ready, the\nmarmot clatters its sharp teeth and hisses loudly at the enemy. This\npose is not all bluff. These big rodents are courageous and able\nadversaries against any animal up to several times their size. As far as\nman is concerned, they are timid and secretive. On many an occasion\ntheir loud, full-toned whistles will be heard, but the whistler will be\nnowhere in sight. If cornered, however, they will put up the same\ncourageous defense they display against other enemies, and certainly are\nnot animals with which to trifle.\nBurrows are usually in open places where a good view of the surroundings\nis obtained. Too, they are almost always in clefts of rocks, under\nboulders, or in coarse rocky soil. This lessens the probability of their\nbeing dug out by some large predator. Each marmot usually will have\nseveral burrows, some being \u201cescape\u201d means and one a permanent home.\nWell-worn trails lead from one to another, for these are active animals\nwhich travel extensively within the limits of their territories. Escape\nburrows may be deep or shallow, as circumstances dictate, but the home\nburrow generally is a labyrinth of long passages that terminate in a\nnest chamber up to 2 feet across. Several auxiliary tunnels are usually\nreserved for sanitary purposes. None is used for food storage; records\nindicate that this creature does not lay up stores for later use. The\nnest is the usual bulky affair, built of coarse materials and lined with\nthe softest grasses and fibers obtainable.\nLate to bed and early to rise is characteristic of the marmots. Classed\nas a diurnal animal, they nevertheless travel about a good deal at dusk.\nDuring the breeding season they may even make an extended trip at night\nto find a mate. Sunrise signals the beginning of the marmot\u2019s day. The\nslanting rays have no more than touched the boulder above its burrow\nbefore the inmate will climb up to take advantage of their warmth. It\nmay stay atop its vantage point for an hour or more. There are many\nthings a marmot can attend to while taking the early morning sunbath. A\nleisurely toilette, whistled comments to neighbors, a long scrutiny of\nthe terrain for possible danger\u2014all these are matters requiring thorough\nattention.\n    [Illustration: yellow-bellied marmot]\nShould this procedure be interrupted by a prowling enemy, excitement\nruns high. If the intruder is still some distance away, the marmot often\nwill stand up on its hind legs, picket pin fashion. Each explosive\nwhistle will be accompanied by several flicks of the tail. When it is\njudged time to retire it will dash for its burrow, making sharp chirps\nas it goes. Once inside the burrow it may chance another look outside,\nand if the caller looks menacing enough the burrow entrance will be\nplugged with earth from inside, the chirps becoming fainter as the\nbarricade is forced into place. Emergence from the burrow after a fright\nof this kind is governed to some extent by the time of year. If it is\nautumn and the marmot is about ready to hibernate, it may go to sleep in\nits cozy nest and not reappear until the next day. Even in spring and\nsummer it will remain underground for a considerable time before\nventuring out again.\nThe marmot is by nature a stocky animal. Short-legged and barrel-bodied,\nit can lay on a surprising amount of fat for the period of hibernation.\nLength of this winter sleep depends on the elevation at which the animal\nlives. On the higher mountain tops it begins about October 1. At lower\nelevations it may be considerably later. Older individuals usually go\ninto hibernation first, presumably because they are able to lay on the\nnecessary fat sooner than younger ones. As a rule they retire by stages,\ndisappearing for several days at a time; their movements are lethargic\nand they act as if already half asleep. The young of the year have spent\nthe greater part of the summer growing up, and it is rather a grim race\nwith time to determine whether they will be able to put on enough fat to\ncarry them through the long winter with a reserve supply, or whether\nthey can survive the cold weather that greets them. Especially at the\nhigher elevations, they do not retire until forced to do so by cold\nweather.\nHibernation is as profound with these big rodents as with many of the\nground squirrels. They will curl up into furry balls in their cozy\nnests, noses covered with fluffy tails, and sink into a deep sleep that\napproaches suspended animation. Bodily functions slow to a fraction of\nthe normal rate, and the system draws on its store of fat to survive.\nThe drain on this nourishment is slow, as it necessarily must be, for\nthis single source of food must last for a period of perhaps 5 months.\nThe date of emergence varies. Although February 2nd is recognized as\ngroundhog day on our calendar, this date would be chilly indeed on the\npeaks of our Southwest mountains. Nevertheless, the marmots do appear\nbefore the snow is entirely gone, and once their sleep has ended they\nrarely resume it, whether or not they see their shadows.\nBreeding takes place shortly after emergence. The young are born in\nApril or May. They are born blind; the eyes do not open until about a\nmonth after birth. The youngsters develop rapidly, and by the time they\nare half grown a daily session of sunbathing and playful tussles outside\nthe entrance of the den is part of their routine. By September they are\nfully grown, and at this time they usually strike out for themselves,\nalthough cases have been recorded in which the family remained together\nthrough the first winter\u2019s hibernation.\nMarmots have always been favorites of this writer. Their clear-toned\nwhistle is as much a symbol of the rugged peaks and lovely fir-rimmed\nmountain meadows as the coyote\u2019s barks are of the desert. Several\nwriters characterize marmots as \u201cstupid.\u201d Surely this is an unfortunate\nchoice of word. Stupid by what standards? Can one species be compared\nwith another when all must live under the different conditions to which\nthey have adapted themselves? The mere fact that a balance of Nature has\nbeen attained indicates that each has the adaptations, the habits, and\nthe degree of intelligence necessary for that species to live in harmony\nwith the whole.\n                     Deermouse (white-footed mouse)\n The genus _Peromyscus_ (Greek: pera, pouch, and muscus, diminutive of\n    [Illustration: deermouse]\nRange: All life zones throughout North America.\nHabitat: Some species of deermouse can be found in almost any\nassociation imaginable.\nDescription: A large-eared mouse with white feet. Since there are many\nspecies in this genus and most of them are quite similar,\ncharacteristics common to the greatest number will be given. Bear in\nmind that these may not hold true with every species of the genus.\nDeermice are rather small, averaging 7 to 8 inches long. Tail 3 to 4\ninches. Most species are a buffy gray above shading to brighter buff on\nthe sides and light buff to white beneath. Feet are always white. The\nears are large for a mouse, usually sparsely covered with short, fine\nhairs, but in some species almost naked. Eyes appear black but have a\nbrownish shade when viewed closely in a good light. Tail long, up to the\nlength of head and body, as a rule sparsely haired; bicolor in some\nspecies. Young, four to six, born almost any time of the year, with\nseveral litters except at higher elevations where only one litter may be\nborn, and this during late spring.\nIn the Southwest the mild climate and plentiful food supply of the lower\nlife zones combine to attract a great number of small rodents. By far\nthe greater number of species is found in the Upper and Lower Sonoran\nZones. This does not mean that mice are rare in the high mountains. They\nlive there in great numbers, but of fewer species. One is the\nlong-tailed deermouse (_Peromyscus maniculatus_), probably the most\noutstanding member of the genus, and the most widely distributed mouse\nin the United States. As might be expected, it is quite variable in\nappearance, having at least three distinct color phases. These vary from\ngolden tan to a dark gray. All phases have a sharper bicolor tail, white\nbeneath and like the rest of the upper body on top.\nThe deermouse is well known to those who are fortunate enough to own\nsummer cabins in the mountains. This is the little rodent which moves\ninto the cabin as soon as the vacationer departs. Fortunately it is not\nso destructive as the common house mouse (which, by the way, is an\nintroduced species) and limits its destructiveness for the most part to\nbuilding a large and comfortable nest in which to live during the winter\nmonths. Deermice do not hibernate, so they must prepare against the\nbitter cold. However, it is not their habit to store food either, and\ndoubtless many of them starve to death over a hard winter.\n      _Microtus montanus_ (Latin: small ear ... of the mountains)\n    [Illustration: mountain vole]\nRange: The mountainous regions of northwestern United States extending\neastward to central Colorado and southward below the northern borders of\nArizona and New Mexico.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: Valleys and grassy meadows seldom lower than the Transition\nZone.\nDescription: A small sturdy rodent with short tail, total length 5\u00bd to\n7\u00bd inches. Tail 1\u00bd to 2\u00bd inches. This is a very short tail for a rodent\nof this size, amounting to only about a fourth of the total length.\nColor, grayish brown to black above; underparts lighter to a silvery\ngray. This is but one of many species found in southwestern mountains.\nThe Mexican vole and the long-tailed vole are two which share its range.\nThey are quite similar in appearance and their life histories also are\nmuch the same.\nIn several ways this heavy-set rodent resembles the pocket gopher. The\nsmall ears and eyes as well as the short tail are all reminiscent of\nthat animal. Like many other rodents, voles are quite prolific. From\nfour to eight young are born in a litter. The number of litters each\nyear depends to a great extent on the altitude. They have been recorded\nin the Canadian Zone, where the summers are too short to permit the\nrearing of more than one litter. In the Transition Life Zone they\ncommonly bear two litters and sometimes more each year.\nThese are the small rodents which most people call \u201cfield\u201d or \u201cmeadow\u201d\nmice. In the prairie states this genus is well known for its habit of\ncongregating under shocks of small grain and corn. Here they build their\nnests and temporarily live in peace and plenty. When the shocks are\ntaken from the field, they are rudely evicted from their snug shelters\nto fall prey to the farmer\u2019s dog or to face the prospect of building a\nnew home before winter descends upon them. In the West, too, this \u201cfield\nmouse\u201d makes itself at home in agricultural areas, but its native haunts\nare the natural meadows in mountain valleys. Here they build tunnels in\nthe tangled growth of grass, and excavate shallow burrows in the soft\nearth. Marshy places are particularly to their liking, because they are\nquite at home in water. Too, the thick cover in these areas gives them\nconsiderable protection from their many enemies. A normally high\nreproduction rate (several litters per year with up to eight young in\neach litter) coupled with a secretive way of life insures their\nperpetuation. In cases where a natural balance has been upset, their\npopulation can soar to fantastic heights. In one agricultural district\nin Nevada a survey revealed an estimated 8,000 to 12,000 \u201cfield mice\u201d\nper acre.\nVoles do not hibernate. They are active night and day, summer and\nwinter. During winter storms they may remain in their snug nests for a\nfew days at a time, but with the return of clear weather, openings to\ntheir tunnels will soon appear in freshly fallen snow.\n                         Western jumping mouse\n_Zapus princeps_ (Greek: za, intensive and pous, foot. Latin: princeps,\nRange: Western United States from central Arizona and New Mexico to\nAlaska.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: High mountains in dry places with abundant low ground cover.\nDescription: A small rodent, two-toned in color, that leaps through the\ngrass much like a kangaroo rat. Total length 8 to 10 inches. Tail 4\u00bd to\n6 inches. Color buffy along sides, shading to almost black on the back\nand white on the underparts and feet. Tail bi-color, dark above and\nlight gray beneath. Ears relatively long, dark in color with light buffy\nmarginal lines. Eyes beady, set in long face with sharp nose. Front legs\nshort but hind legs and feet large and muscular. Young, four to six in a\nlitter, with no more than one litter a year in the higher elevations.\nThe jumping mice are among the most specialized small rodents in the\nUnited States. The genus is typically North American, only one species\nbeing found outside this continent. At some time in the distant past\nthis little creature adapted itself to a mode of flight much like that\nof the kangaroo and jerboa. In this respect it exceeds the kangaroo rats\nand pocket mice of the United States, species to which it is distantly\nrelated. Its general build is distinctly like that of the kangaroo, with\nthe same delicately formed front quarters and heavier hind quarters. The\ntail, though not club-shaped like the kangaroo\u2019s, is long enough to\nserve the same purpose\u2014that of a rudder to guide the direction of\nflight. The hindlegs are muscular enough to propel the body on\nproportionally longer jumps than even the kangaroo. Here the resemblance\nceases, however, for the jumping mouse is not related, even distantly,\nto this marsupial. The only pouches the jumping mice have are internal\ncheek pouches used exclusively for transportation of food.\nJumping mice have one more peculiarity that set them apart from most\nother North American mice; they hibernate. The period of hibernation is\nnot a short one at the elevations at which these mice live. It may last\nfor as long as 6 months. Preparation for this extensive period of\ninactivity consists mainly in gathering and eating grass seeds until a\nthick layer of fat is stored under the skin. With the first cold weather\nthe jumping mice retire to previously prepared underground burrows and\nsleep the winter away.\nSince they are almost exclusively seed eaters, they may have a difficult\ntime on emerging in the spring. Apparently there is no food cache stored\naway for this period, so the hapless rodents must search for what can be\nfound until the grasses head out again. The method of harvesting grass\nseed is unique, and once seen will not be easily mistaken. Living as\nthey do in a jungle of tall grass, they are not able to reach the heads\nnor to climb the slender stems. Instead, they cut off the stem as high\nas they can reach, pull the upper part down to the ground and cut it\nagain. This goes on until the head is brought within reach. Small piles\nof grass stems, all cut to an average length, indicate that this is the\nspecies which has been at work.\nJumping mice seldom will be seen except when in flight. Then their\njack-in-the-box tactics make it almost impossible to determine what they\nare really like. They are timid, inoffensive little creatures which, if\ncaught, will seldom offer to bite.\n   _Neotoma cinerea_ (Greek: neos, new and temnien, to cut ... Latin:\nRange: Mountainous portions of western North America from Alaska south\nto central California, northern Arizona and New Mexico.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: Found usually in association with the pines of the Transition\nand Canadian Life Zones; crevices in cliffs and among rock slides are\nfavorite nesting sites.\nDescription: This woodrat will be recognized at once by its bushy,\nsquirrel-like tail. The several other species in the same range have the\nusual scanty growth on the tail, so thin as to be almost unnoticeable.\nThis species is large for a woodrat; total length ranges from 12\u00bd to 18\ninches. Tail 5\u00bd to 8 inches. The soft, thick fur shows wide variation in\ncolor, as might be expected from the great range occupied by this\nspecies with its many subspecies. In general it varies from ashy to\ncinnamon above, to pure white on the underparts. Although the head has\nthe same general shape as that of other woodrats, its appearance is\naltered somewhat by long, silky whiskers up to 4 inches in length, and\nextremely large ears. The dark, beady eyes, however, are typical of the\ngenus. The young, from two to six, are born in early summer. This\naverage of four or possibly less, when the breeding habits of all the\nsubspecies are taken into consideration, seems low when compared with\nother small rodents. The low death rate indicated probably is due not\nonly to this species\u2019 secretive habits but to a high order of native\nintelligence as well.\n    [Illustration: bushy-tailed woodrat]\nMany are the names applied to this interesting little animal. \u201cMountain\nrat,\u201d \u201cpack rat,\u201d \u201ctrade rat,\u201d and woodrat are some of the most common.\nSeveral stem from the supposition that when the animal takes an article\nthat suits its fancy, it always replaces it with something which it\nsupposes to be of equal value. Observation of the creature\u2019s habits will\nindicate that these \u201ctrades\u201d are entirely by chance. These animals are\ncontinually carrying small objects about and often drop one in favor of\nanother more to their liking. The fact is that the most attractive items\nusually are carried to the vicinity of the nest, and so the scientific\nname of one of the subspecies is perhaps one of the most appropriate for\nthis industrious collector. This subspecific title is _orolestes_, which\ntranslated from the Greek means _oros_, mountain, and _lestes_, robber.\nThe penchant for carrying away another\u2019s property leads to many\nincidents both comic and tragic. The rats are not at all averse to\nsharing a prospector\u2019s cabin, and during hours when the rightful owner\nis away at work raise havoc with his possessions. During long winter\nnights they are no less industrious, and the mysterious sounds of their\nactivities will keep even a sound sleeper awake for hours. Eventually\nthis becomes so exasperating that drastic action is called for. One old\nprospector told me of a woodrat that had been bothering him for a long\ntime. Traps proved of no avail and finally one night he placed his\nforty-five on a box beside his bed, together with a candle and matches.\nDuring the night he was again awakened and quietly sat up and lighted\nthe candle. There on one of his cupboard shelves was the dim form of the\nrat. Taking careful aim in the flickering candlelight, he pulled the\ntrigger and hit the animal \u201cdead center.\u201d The heavy slug literally blew\nit apart. Unfortunately it happened to be sitting directly in front of a\n5-pound can of coffee. One may assume that without either woodrat or\ncoffee he slept soundly thereafter.\nMy own experiences with this species have been no less exasperating.\nWhen but a youth, my brother and I were quartered in an old bunkhouse\none winter. We chose the smaller of the two rooms as being easier to\nkeep warm, and after a thorough clean-up moved in. No rank novices, we\nwired our watches to a nail driven into the wall and hung our other\nvaluables from a wire stretched across the room. In the morning our\nsocks were missing! Thereafter matters were uneventful for a week. The\nwoodrat would come up through a hole in the corner of the room as soon\nas the lights were out. All night long it would make trips through the\nconnecting door into the adjoining room and carry away loads of cotton\nfrom an old mattress on the unused bed.\nCame the week-end and the Saturday barn dance about 3 miles up the\ncanyon. Fresh shirts and trousers donned, coats and vests were taken\nfrom the chair backs upon which they had been carefully hung. Behold!\nOne vest front was completely chewed out and carried away, presumably\nfor nesting material. This was the last straw; the creature must be done\naway with.\nOn the following night plans were laid with care. Two 5-gallon oil cans\nwere placed in the doorway. This left a narrow passageway just wide\nenough to accommodate a small jump trap. A piece of newspaper was placed\nover the trap and the end of the chain wired to the head of the steel\nbedstead. A short time after the lights were put out, a scratching noise\nindicated that the animal had come in through the hole. All was quiet\nuntil its nose came into contact with one of the empty cans. Then snap!\nA series of squeaks and the rattle of the chain gave warning that the\ncreature was climbing into bed. As it came in over the head, the wildly\nexcited occupants left by the foot. When the light was struck the rat\nwas sitting in the middle of the bed. A heavy boot soon dispatched it\nand a semblance of order again returned to the bunkhouse. Strange to\nsay, no more woodrats came in for the remainder of the season.\nAlthough such experiences are the rule when this rat has moved into a\ndwelling, it is a delightful creature in its native haunts. It is a rim\nrock dweller; that is, it likes best to build its nest far back in some\ndeep crevice of a cliff. If such a location is not available it may find\na protected site in a talus slope or even among the roots of a tree.\nUsually these natural fortresses are further reinforced by the addition\nof a pile of sticks and miscellaneous materials piled helter skelter\nover the nest. The nest itself is quite large, usually a foot or more in\ndiameter, built of the softest and warmest materials at hand. Somewhere\nadjacent to the nest will be found one or more caches of food against\nthe time when the snows are deep and famine stalks the land. As has been\nmentioned, the woodrat is usually associated with the pines of the\nTransition Life Zone and above, and pine nuts are one of its most\npopular items of food. Acorns, seeds, berries, stone fruits, and some\nvegetation round out its vegetable diet. It will also eat meat whenever\navailable although, except for insects, shows little inclination to kill\nits own. With such a varied menu, it seems entirely proper to call this\nrodent omnivorous.\nOne of the most characteristic marks of the woodrat\u2019s home is a strong,\nmusky odor. This is not an indication of uncleanliness. The animal is\nmost fastidious in its toilette but has this body odor in large measure.\nA study skin will retain a strong trace of it for many years. Whether it\nfunctions for an identification to others of the species is not known,\nbut it could well serve this purpose.\nAlthough classed as a nocturnal animal, the bushy-tailed woodrat is\noften active throughout the daylight hours. They are not gregarious\ncreatures; yet, since suitable nesting sites may not be found in some\nareas, other more favored localities often will harbor considerable\nnumbers of the animals. Overhanging ledges may shelter the piles of\nlitter denoting a nest every few feet. In such cases, a well-worn trail\nwill lead from one to the other. This is not an indication that a colony\nlives there in peace and harmony. These rats are truculent creatures\namong themselves, and if a stranger should venture into a nest mound, he\nis evicted with many indignant squeaks and a fearsome snapping of teeth.\nThe interloper seems to know he is out of order and usually leaves the\nnest at once without more than a token show of resistance. In neutral\nterritory such as a cabin, however, several woodrats may share the area\nquite peacefully, but to the great annoyance of the human occupant.\nThe variety of sounds produced by such a group is quite amazing. Added\nto the usual high-pitched squeaks and patter of running feet are the\nmysterious rustlings of paper and other objects being dragged about. A\npeculiar thumping sound indicates a gait which I have never seen but\noften heard at night. It must be somewhat like the leaping flight of a\nkangaroo rat, at least it indicates a swift succession of leaps across a\nflat surface such as a floor or roof. Perhaps the broad surface\npresented by the flat of the bushy tail is of assistance in this\nmaneuver. Then, like most rodents, the woodrat will thump with its hind\nlegs as an alarm signal. This is perhaps the most noticeable sound of\nall, for it marks the instant cessation of all activity for every member\nof its kind within hearing distance. The \u201cear-splitting silence\u201d that\nfollows this signal literally presses in on one in the darkness.\n _Ondatra zibethicus_ (French Canadian word from the Iroquois and Huron\n   Indian word for muskrat. Latin: the odorous substance of the civet\n             alluding to the musk secreted by the muskrat)\nRange: Virtually all of North America north of the Mexican border.\nMuskrats are found from near sea level to as high as 10,000 feet above\nit.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: This large rodent can exist only near a permanent water supply\nwhich is deep enough to shelter it from its enemies. This may be a lake,\na marsh, or a running stream.\nDescription: A large aquatic rodent whose long, flat tail undulates from\nside to side when it swims. Total length 18 to 25 inches. Tail 8 to 11\ninches. Weight 2 to 4 pounds. The thick, dark brown fur of the upper\nbody is overlaid with brown to black guard hairs. The legs are short but\npowerful. The front feet are small, but the hind feet are relatively\nlarge and partially webbed, with stiff hairs on the edges of the webs\nand along the sides of the toes. The long, black tail is flattened\nvertically. It is so scantily haired that it may be said to be naked,\nbut is covered with small scales up to 2 millimeters in diameter. The\nhead is quite similar to that of a vole. The ears are so short as to\nbarely protrude through the fur, and the eyes are small. Average number\nof young thought to be six per litter. Several litters may be born each\nyear.\nThe presence of muskrats in a shallow lake or marsh is not difficult to\ndetect. This is their chosen habitat, and here in water about 1\u00bd feet\ndeep, they build their characteristic mounds of rushes and cat-tails.\nHere they may also be seen on quiet days swimming about and carrying on\ntheir normal activities. In much of the Southwest, however, such\nfavorite habitats are few and far between and the muskrats must take\ntheir choice, if there be one, between the few permanent streams and\nirrigation canals. In these altered circumstances they react quite\ndifferently; they may often be present in considerable numbers without\nanyone being the wiser. The change in habits required by this different\nenvironment illustrates the great adaptability exhibited by many of our\nmost common mammal species.\nThe most important requirement of a muskrat is a permanent body of water\nof a depth sufficient for it to dive into and escape from its enemies.\nGiven this, it will at once set about constructing a home. In a lake or\nmarsh, there is little or no current. In sheltered bays, where wave\naction is slight, the bottom often will be muddy. In the shallow water\nalong the shore, water plants such as tules and cattails will become\nestablished. This is indeed muskrat heaven, for these and other aquatic\nplants are both their food and building materials. The most edible\nportions of the plants are the roots and the stem portions which are\nbelow the surface of the mud. When one of these choice tidbits has been\ncut free by the muskrat\u2019s sharp teeth, it is carried to some favorite\nplace to be eaten. This may be a mud bar well sheltered by overhanging\nvegetation from prying eyes, the end of a log projecting above the\nsurface of the water, or perhaps the roof of the \u201chouse.\u201d The discarded\nportion of the stem is buoyant and usually lodges among the remaining\nplants until needed for building purposes.\n    [Illustration: muskrat]\nWhen the muskrat house is being built, a great quantity of this flotsam\nis piled up until the resultant mound may project as much as 3 feet\nabove the water and be 5 or 6 feet in diameter. The nest is built above\nthe waterline in this half-submerged \u201chaystack.\u201d Entrance to the living\nquarters is by a tunnel which usually starts through the mud a short\ndistance from the base of the house, goes under the edge of the\nstructure, then inclines upward to the nest. Only one entrance is\nnecessary for even if some enemy should tear through the tangle of\nrushes deep enough to reach the nest, it would take so long that every\ninmate could easily escape by this submarine route. The house serves one\nmore important purpose in the far north. When the ice lies thick over\nthe marsh and seals this water world away from air, the muskrats can\nstill take short forays under the ice for food and return again to free\nair, without which no mammal can exist.\nHad the muskrat learned to build dams such as beavers construct, the\nspecies might very well be near extinction in the Southwest, since such\nstructures would seriously interfere with irrigation. However, since\nthey have accepted conditions as they are, the muskrats do very well for\nthemselves in the shallow streams and irrigation ditches. In fact, their\npopulation under the adverse conditions of today is probably far above\nthat of the days before the white man arrived on the scene. Do not\nassume from this statement that a whole new way of life has been opened\nup for the muskrat. There has always been a \u201cbank\u201d muskrat that lived in\nburrows in the stream banks. This fast-water addict has now taken full\nadvantage of the artificial streams that are the forerunners of\nagriculture almost everywhere in the Southwest. The burrows built into\nthe canal banks seem to be identical with those constructed under\nnatural conditions.\nThe \u201cbank\u201d muskrat builds three types of shelters, each with a definite\nand necessary function. These might be called the feeding burrow, the\nshelter burrow, and the breeding burrow, respectively. The first two are\nsimple in design and have few variations, but the breeding burrow may be\nextremely complex. If a choice is available, all burrows will be in a\nbank along the swiftest flow of water, as on the outside of a curve in\nthe canal, for instance. This prevents the entrances from silting shut\nas they would in the more quiet reaches.\nThere are two types of feeding burrows. The first and more common\nconsists of a cut made just above water level in the side of a vertical\nbank. If possible, it is behind a portiere of hanging grass or weeds, so\nas to be completely screened from view. This is merely a safe place to\nwhich the muskrat can take its food and eat without being bothered by\nenemies. The second type of feeding burrow is more elaborate, consisting\nof several such chambers along the bank connected by short tunnels.\nThese seem to be community shelters since they are used by several\nindividuals at the same time. The added safety provided by the\nconnecting tunnels seems to be the advantage in this type of dining\nroom.\nThe shelter burrow not only affords escape from enemies, but may be a\nsleeping burrow as well. It consists of two tunnels which start at\ndifferent levels under water and join just before they reach the main\nchamber, which of course, is above water level. The two tunnels assure\nan escape route if one or the other is invaded by an enemy. Each muskrat\nmay have several of these shelter burrows. The one used as a sleeping\nburrow will be furnished with a soft nest of shredded leaves. Cattail\nleaves are a favorite material for this purpose. Wet, green cattail\nleaves in a damp underground cavern make a poor bed by most standards,\nbut no doubt, it seems a dry, cozy retreat to the muskrat as it emerges\ndripping from its underwater tunnel.\nThe breeding burrows are large and elaborate in design. There is reason\nto believe they are not always the work of one individual. They may even\nrepresent combined efforts of several generations of muskrats. Often\nthey are a labyrinth of tunnels connecting many nesting chambers, each\nwith a nest of different age. This can be determined by the yellowing of\nthe shredded leaves. As might be expected, there are usually a number of\ntunnels leading from this maze into the water. A half dozen of these\nunderwater entrance tunnels is not unusual. All this room gives the\nyoung a place to exercise before they are able to take to the water.\nYoung muskrats are surprisingly precocious. They are able to leave the\nnest when very small, and at 4 weeks of age are weaned and capable of\ntaking care of themselves, although only about one-fourth grown. At this\nstage, they are peculiar looking little individuals. The fur is still in\nthe woolly stage, dark and bluish in color. The guard hairs have not yet\nappeared, and altogether they have an unkempt appearance. This rapidly\ndisappears, however, when they leave the burrow. Their progress is so\nrapid that young born early in the spring are believed to breed during\nthe following fall.\nThough ordinarily confined to the immediate vicinity of water, muskrats\nsometimes are found in amazing places. The urge to travel sometimes\ninfluences them to go across country for many miles to some other body\nof water. They may also become overcrowded in an area so that food\nbecomes scarce and some may leave on that account. It is not uncommon in\nthe Middle West for them to burrow into a farmer\u2019s root cellar in early\nfall and spend months in this haven of warmth and good food before they\nare discovered. Floods may carry them many miles away from established\nhaunts and leave them stranded on high ground when the waters recede. A\nmuskrat found in this predicament is not an animal with which to trifle.\nIf it cannot escape by water, it will probably elect to make a stand.\nThe long, sharp incisors are formidable weapons indeed, and any enemy,\nincluding man, had best allow judgment to become the better part of\nvalor.\nThe tracks of muskrats are so characteristic that they cannot be\nmistaken for those of any other animal. Strangely enough they resemble\nto a striking degree those of certain types of extinct reptiles called\ndinosaurs. The tracks of the two small front feet are close together and\noverlapped somewhat by those of the larger hind feet. Between the tracks\nis the sinuous trail left by the sharp-edged tail.\n         _Castor canadensis_ (Latin: a beaver ... from Canada)\nRange: The beaver, like the muskrat, can be found almost everywhere in\nNorth America north of the Mexican border.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: Near any water supply of enough volume, with or without\ndamming, to provide security for a beaver family.\nDescription: The largest North American rodent; further distinguished by\nhaving a broad flat tail. Total length 34 to 40 inches. Tail 9 to 10\ninches. Weight from 30 to 60 pounds. In color the beaver varies from a\ndeep, rich brown in the northern states to a much paler shade in desert\nregions of the Southwest. The soft, rich underfur is partially concealed\nby coarse, rather stiff guard hairs. The brown color of the upper parts\nshades to a chestnut under the belly and on the inner sides of the legs.\nThe forefeet are small with well developed claws. They appear naked but\nhave a scanty cover of coarse hairs. The hind feet are large and webbed,\nand are similarly covered with a few coarse hairs.\nThe body of the beaver has somewhat the appearance of a kangaroo in that\nthe rear portion is heavy and appear overdeveloped in comparison with\nthe more stream-lined head and forequarters. Much of this impression is\ngained from the heavy, flat tail which is thick and muscular at the\npoint where it joins the body. One of the most useful appendages\npossessed by any creature, the tail is paddled-shaped horizontally and\nabout an inch thick in the middle, tapering to thin edges and tip. It\nappears naked, but is covered with scales.\nThe young, averaging four in number, are born in the late spring and,\nalthough they are soon able to take care of themselves, the family\nremains together for most of the year.\nIndications of beavers in an area are their dams or the distinctive\nstumps left by their tree felling. Beaver tracks are seldom found.\nAlthough this aquatic animal often leaves the water, and may go a\nconsiderable distance overland, its tracks usually are obliterated by\nthe passage of the heavy rump and the dragging tail.\nThe beaver, perhaps as much as any other factor, was instrumental in\nopening up western America to civilization. Even before the Thirteen\nOriginal Colonies had become firmly established along the eastern\nseaboard, venturesome men were working westward in search of more beaver\nto supply the ever-increasing demand for this soft-rich fur. Industrial\nempires were founded on this traffic in skins which came from as far\nwest as the Mississippi River. By the early 1800\u2019s, the trappers had\npenetrated to the Rocky Mountains, and in 1806, upon the return of the\nLewis and Clark Expedition from the Pacific Northwest, they swarmed to\nthe headwaters of the Missouri River system. Prior to this, the\nSouthwest had been given little attention by the fur industry. It was\nconsidered an inhospitable region, inhabited by hostile Indians, and\nwith a few settlements of Spanish colonists who, up to that time, had\nactively resisted the intrusions of the more aggressive Americans.\nHowever, by the year 1820, relations had improved to such a degree that\na few of these hardy individuals were trapping on the headwaters of the\ndesert rivers. Later, their activities spread to include the entire\nlength of these remarkable watercourses.\nThese were the Mountain Men, a hard-as-nails breed of frontiersmen in a\nclass by themselves. In the period from 1820-1854, when a large part of\nthe Southwest became part of the United States through the Gadsden\nPurchase, they roamed the plains and mountains of the American Desert.\nTheir roster includes such legendary figures as Bill Williams, Pauline\nWeaver, Kit Carson, and James Pattie. Their argosy was a quest for the\nrich, brown beaver pelts which were a golden fleece indeed when\npresented to the fur traders in far-off St. Louis. In time, their\nmoccasined feet beat a broad path across the western plains\u2014a path then\nknown as the Santa Fe Trail, but identified today as U.S. 66, the \u201cMain\nStreet of America.\u201d\nToday, many of the streams which supported beaver colonies in the desert\nplaces have vanished entirely, and others have been so effectively\nharnessed for irrigation and power that there is no place for beavers in\nthem. In the higher mountains, however, there are many streams remote\nfrom civilization where clear ponds still sparkle in the sunlight, and\nthe splash and dripping of busy beavers can be heard on quiet, summer\nevenings. Because beavers quickly become established under any\nconditions which are at all favorable, they have been reintroduced into\nnumerous places where they had been extinct for many years. Usually this\nis good conservation practice, but under some conditions, it may prove a\nmistake. Ecologically speaking, beavers probably are the most important\ncreatures in any animal community of which they are members. This is\nbecause these busy engineers not only impose a tremendous drain on the\nsurrounding area for material, very often they also radically alter the\ncharacter of the terrain to fit their own needs.\n    [Illustration: beaver]\nThe life history of the beaver is one of the most interesting of all\nmammals. It has been studied for centuries by naturalists in both the\nNew and Old Worlds, for the beaver, with but few differences, is native\nto both. All this study and observation notwithstanding, the habits are\nstill only partially known. This is because the beaver is mainly a\nnocturnal creature which spends most of its daylight hours in the\nconcealment of a lodge or burrow. Then, too, in the northern latitudes\nwhere the ponds are covered with ice throughout the long winters there\nis little opportunity to observe this phase of its existence. There is\nbut one species of beaver in North America but about two dozen\nsubspecies. The northern types and those which live in the mountains of\nthe Southwest seem to be dam builders who live in beaver \u201clodges.\u201d Those\nwhich inhabited rivers of the lower desert were mostly \u201cbank\u201d beavers\nwhich lived in burrows in the banks of streams. This latter type is rare\ntoday.\nPerhaps the best way to understand the ecological importance of the\nbeaver is through watching the rise and decline of a typical colony.\nPicture if you will a small, shallow stream flowing gently down a narrow\nvalley in the mountains. Bordering the low banks is a thicket of alders.\nBack of them a thick growth of aspens extends to the edge of the valley\nand mingles with the spruce trees on the slope. Down this slope comes a\nyoung male beaver at a clumsy gallop, his broad tail striking the ground\nwith an audible thump at every lope. This emigrant has struck out for\nhimself because the colony to which he belongs has become crowded. He\nfinds the stream and, since the water is too shallow to conceal him,\ncrouches under an overhanging bank until darkness falls.\nAs soon as it becomes completely dark, he hunts for a suitable place to\nbuild a dam and soon finds a site to his liking. On one side of the\nstream a thick clump of alders projects from the bank, and on the other\na water-soaked log is half buried in the bottom of the creek. From these\nanchor points, he begins his dam, building toward the middle from each\nside. The work calls for a great deal of the alder brush to be cut and\nsunk in the bed of the stream. There it is weighted down with rocks and\nmud until secure. Additional brush is brought and interwoven with the\nfirst; gradually the structure grows until in a few days it converts the\nstream into a quiet pool deep enough to hide the beaver, should an enemy\nappear. As the water rises it covers the bases of the alders, which\nbegin to die in the pond.\nThe beaver next turns his attention to building a lodge. Selecting a\npoint to one side of the current entering the pond, he begins as he did\nwith the dam by sinking brush to the bottom and weighting it down with\nrocks. As he builds, he cleverly fashions several underwater entrances\nto the house that will be. When he has finished, the house projects\nseveral feet above the water, and the materials are so thoroughly\ninterlaced and plastered that even the most determined enemy would\ndespair of gaining entry to the living room. Debris from the\nconstruction has floated downstream to become lodged in and on the dam,\nmaking it more secure and watertight that it was when first built.\nWith the dam and the lodge both completed, the next task is to collect a\nfood supply for the following winter. This is carried on intermittently\nduring the autumn. It consists of cutting down aspens, whose bark the\nbeaver dearly loves, sectioning the branches and small trunks into\npieces which may be handled conveniently, and dragging them to the pond.\nOnce in the water, they are weighted down and will remain in good\ncondition for a long time. The beaver is joined in this task by a female\nwhich has also migrated from an overcrowded colony. Two need more food\nthan one, consequently their trails begin to head a little farther into\nthe aspen forest as they work through the crisp autumn nights. These\ntrails converge as they leave the forest and approach the pond, and end\nin a few well-developed mud slides that enter the water. Constant\ntraffic of the wet beavers leaving the water keeps the slides moist and\nslippery.\nAs winter settles in on the mountains, a thin skim of ice begins to form\non the edges of the quiet water on cold nights. Then one night it\nfreezes completely over. This causes the beavers no inconvenience at all\nbecause if on one of their underwater excursions they should wish to\nsurface for air, they have but to swim to a shallow place with firm\nbottom, and with one quick lift of their powerful muscles break a hole\nthrough the ice with their backs. They can break surprisingly thick ice\nin this way. The beavers live in comfort and plenty throughout the\nwinter. The living room of the lodge has been furnished with comfortable\nbeds of the cattails that have already become established along the edge\nof the pond. The lodge, although tightly built, still admits enough air\nfor the beavers and food is stored in plenty on the bottom of the pond.\nAs the bark is gnawed from the aspen branches, the bare poles are added\nto the bulk of the house or used in further construction of the dam.\nBefore long, the mild southwestern winter merges into spring.\nIn late spring the beaver family is considerably increased by the\narrival of four miniature beavers. They weigh but 1 pound each at birth\nand are fully furred. At this time, the father is ostracized and the\nmother and her young live together in the lodge. When the young are\nabout 3 weeks old, they take to the water for the first time. They\nquickly learn the beaver method of swimming; this is to kick with the\nhind feet and let the forelegs trail loosely alongside the breast, using\nthe flat tail both as elevator and rudder. The young beavers are called\nkits, and indeed are as playful as true kittens can be. It is most\namazing to watch them cavorting about in the water with as much ease as\nyoungsters of other mammals do on dry land. As autumn nears, this play\nis exchanged for the sterner duties of existence, and the young take\ntheir places as adults of the family.\nFifty years pass. As the colony increases the dam must be made larger,\nnew lodges must be built; and when the trails to the aspen forest become\ntoo long, canals are dug part way out to lessen the hazards which may\nbefall the beaver on dry land. The pond gradually silts up to higher and\nhigher levels until at last it is full of black, fertile soil. All of\nthe aspens within reach are finally cut down and the hungry beavers turn\nto the resinous bark of the spruces. Finally the struggle is given up.\nThe beavers migrate to a new location, and the following spring a\nfreshet tears out the center of the dam. Now the pond is gone. With it\nare gone the trout that played in its depths, and the teal that rested\nthere on their way south. In its place is a beaver meadow, a grassy park\nin the center of the spruce forest with spring flowers spangling its\ngreen surface. Aspens are already beginning to crowd in about its edges,\nand the creek is cutting deeper into its soft soil with every spring.\nBefore long heavy erosion will begin to take its toll, and some day in\nthe future a male beaver will again come galloping awkwardly down the\nslope.\nThe changing conditions which such a cycle bring about are almost\nimpossible to evaluate. At least three climax types of environment are\nrepresented: those of the alder thicket, the beaver pond, and the beaver\nmeadow. In a graphic fashion this cycle illustrates what is going on in\nNature continually, more slowly perhaps, but just as surely.\n _Erethizon dorsatum_ (Greek: to irritate in allusion to the quills and\n                     Latin: pertaining to the back)\nRange: Most of North America north of the Mexican border. Notable by\ntheir exception are the south central and southeastern United States.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: Usually associated with conifer forest, yet may sometimes be\nfound miles from any forest. An inhabitant of all life zones up to\ntimberline (Arctic-Alpine).\nDescription: A black to grizzled black and yellow creature covered with\nquills. Total length 18 to 22 inches. Tail 7 to 9 inches. Weight 10 to\n28 pounds. Body short and wide; supported by short bowed legs. Tail\nheavy and muscular, armed with short slender quills. Head small with\ndull eyes and long black whiskers, but with short ears. The incisors are\nextremely large and are of a bright, rich yellow color. The quills are\nshortest on the face and reach their greatest length near the middle of\nthe back. Often they are nearly hidden in the coarse, seal brown to\nblack underfur. The long guard hairs are also seal brown close to the\nbody, but change to a rather sere yellow at the tips. Only one young is\nbrought forth each year in a den among the rocks, or sometimes in a\nhollow log. The young are among the most precocious of any mammal.\nThe porcupine in North America is considered as belonging to but the one\nspecies _dorsatum_, although there are seven subspecies. The most common\nsubspecies found in the Southwest is _epixanthum_ (Greek _epi_, upon,\nand _xanthus_, yellow), sometimes called \u201cyellow-haired\u201d porcupine. The\nporcupine is unique among North American mammals in bearing the sharp\nquills which are perhaps its most interesting feature. Certainly they\nare responsible in large part for the unusual life history of this\nmisunderstood animal.\nQuills are no more than greatly modified hairs, and in sorting through\nthe various types of pelage on a porcupine\u2019s back, a few examples will\nbe found which are intermediate between the hair and the quills. This\ndoes not mean that coarser hairs gradually turn to quills. Each follicle\nproduces hair or quill, as the case may be, for the life of the animal.\nA quill consists of three well-defined parts: a solid sharp tip usually\nblack in color; a hollow shaft, which is white; and a root similar to\nthat of a hair.\n    [Illustration: porcupine]\nThe sharp tip is smooth for a fraction of an inch, but from this point\non, it is covered with a great number of closely appressed barbs. These\ncan be felt by rubbing the quill the \u201cwrong\u201d way between thumb and\nforefinger. It has been found that these barbs flare away from the\nsurface, when the quill is immersed in warm water. It seems natural that\nthey would do the same when embedded in warm, moist flesh. At any rate,\nquills are always difficult to extract, and if left in the victim they\npenetrate ever more deeply until they may pierce some vital organ and\ncause death. In other cases, they have been known to work entirely\nthrough body or limb and emerge on the opposite side. This is due to\nmuscular action of the victim, some movements tending to force the point\nfarther, the barbs at the same time effectively preventing any retreat.\nBelow the barbs the tip of the quill flares to join the shaft. Pure\nwhite and opaque, this portion is used by Indians to form decorative\nbands of quill work on the fronts of buckskin vests and jackets. This\npart is also hollow, and before removal of a quill from the flesh is\nattempted, a little of the end should be cut off. This collapses the\nshaft and makes extraction somewhat more easy, but very little less\npainful. Actually there is little excuse for a human to become involved\nwith one of these mild-tempered creatures, but sometimes dogs are badly\nhurt in encounters with them.\nThe root is the portion by which the quill is attached to the body.\nAlthough it is a common belief that the porcupine can \u201cthrow\u201d its\nquills, the truth is that the root portion is extremely weak and the\nquills are easily withdrawn from the body when the barbed tip is driven\ninto an enemy. In fact, any violent movement of the animal may dislodge\nquills, even though nothing has touched them. There are several\nwell-authenticated accounts of quills having been flipped for several\nfeet in this way, but in each case, it was entirely accidental and\nthrough no conscious effort of the porcupine. In other words, the\narmament of this slow, awkward creature should be considered strictly\ndefensive in every respect.\nLike the skunk, which can also defend itself most effectively, the\nporcupine has little apparent fear of its enemies. When threatened with\nviolence it simply brings its head down between the forelegs and turns\nits rump toward the attacker. With hair and quills erect it resembles a\nsoft furry ball. Appearances are seldom more deceiving! The guard hairs\nhalf conceal a spot on the back where a whorl of long quills radiates\nout in a large \u201ccowlick.\u201d Should any enemy touch these long guard hairs,\nthe muscular tail is thrashed vigorously about in an effort to drive the\nsomewhat shorter but equally keen-pointed tail quills into the attacker.\nWith every attempt at attack from another angle, the porcupine turns so\nas to present its rump to the enemy. There is one Achilles heel,\nhowever, in this otherwise almost perfect defense. It is the unprotected\nunderparts, which at times of danger are always kept pressed against the\nground or against a tree trunk. A few carnivores, among them the\nmountain lion and the fisher, are known to kill the porcupine by\nflipping it over on its back and tearing it open. Even these large\npredators seldom escape unscathed, however, and both lions and fishers\nare known to have died from the effects of quills accidentally taken\ninto the digestive tract.\nTo those who have heard that porcupines live only on bark and always\ngirdle the host trees, it may come as a surprise to find that this is\nonly partly true. Although \u201cbark\u201d is eaten to some extent throughout the\nyear, it is seldom the main diet. When a great deal is taken from one\ntree, it is gnawed off in an aimless pattern which may or may not girdle\nthe tree. During the spring and summer, a porcupine becomes a browser on\ntender leaves and twigs in the undergrowth. In autumn and winter, it\nfeeds more on mistletoe and pine needles than on bark. With its low\nreproduction rate, there is little danger of it eating up our forests,\nunless its natural enemies are removed.\n                         Northern pocket gopher\n   _Thomomys talpoides_ (Greek: thomos, a heap and mys, mouse. Latin:\nRange: From northwestern United States and southwestern Canada to as far\nsouth as northern Arizona and northwestern New Mexico.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: Soft loam in the open places in the high mountains. Seldom\nfound below 8,000 feet, but up to elevations of over 13,000 feet in New\nMexico.\nDescription: The characteristic mounds of earth built up by this group\nof burrowing rodents are usually the best indication of their presence.\nThe northern pocket gopher is of medium size. Total length 6\u00bd to 9\u00bd\ninches. Tail 1\u00be to 3 inches. It is usually gray in color with darker\npatches behind the rounded ears. Eyes and ears are small. The short tail\nhas a bare, blunt tip. Front claws are long and curved. The entire body\nis well muscled and gives an impression of power. Average number of\nyoung thought to be about four. At the high elevations at which this\nspecies lives, the young are not seen until rather late in summer.\n    [Illustration: northern pocket gopher]\nThe northern pocket gopher is one of the hardiest rodents on the North\nAmerican Continent. Even so, it would not be able to survive the climate\nof the inhospitable regions it sometimes inhabits were it not for the\nfact that is spends almost all its life underground. This creature does\nnot hibernate, but continues busily at the task of searching out food\nwhen most other subterranean dwellers are curled up fast asleep in their\ncozy nests. Why the gopher should continue working, while its ground\nsquirrel cousins sleep, is hard to say. It would seem that it has the\nsame opportunities to lay on fat for a winter\u2019s rest. The chief reason\nseems to be that the bulbs and roots upon which it feeds are always\navailable so long as the gopher keeps extending its underground\nworkings. On the other hand, the ground squirrels, which gather their\nfood aboveground, are cut off from this supply as soon as cold weather\ndrives them to shelter.\nThe pocket gophers are much alike. There are three genera and a\nconsiderable number of species represented in the Southwest but, except\nfor variations due to climate and terrain, their habits are similar.\nBurrows usually are constructed in deep loam or alluvial soils. These\ntunnels seem to follow an aimless pattern. Their course is marked by\nmounds of earth thrown out of the workings at irregular intervals. When\nthe gopher is engaged in throwing out this excavated earth, the entrance\nto the tunnel is left open until the job is completed, then tightly\nplugged to prevent enemies from entering. The tunnels themselves are\nrather small in diameter, considering the size of the gopher, for if it\nwishes to retrace its steps and there is no gallery near at hand in\nwhich to turn around, it can run backward almost as easily as forward.\nThere are usually numerous rooms excavated along the course of the\ntunnels. In one is a warm nest constructed of grass and fibers. Others\nare utilized for storage rooms and at least one is reserved as a toilet,\nthereby keeping the rest of the workings sanitary. When the ground is\ncovered with snow the northern pocket gopher especially is quite likely\nto extend its activities aboveground. Here it builds its tunnels through\nthe snow and often packs them tightly with earth brought up from below.\nThis remains as earth casts, when the snow melts and forms a\ncharacteristic mark of its presence.\nChief foods of pocket gophers are the bulbs, tubers, and fibrous roots\nencountered in the course of their diggings. Whenever an especially\nabundant supply is found, the surplus is stored away as insurance\nagainst the time when future excavation produces nothing. Gophers also\neat leaves and stems whenever available. Some plants are pulled down\nthrough the roof of the tunnel by the roots, and some are gathered near\nits mouth, although these trips \u201coutside\u201d are fraught with danger.\nCoyotes, foxes, and bobcats all are willing to chance an encounter with\nthis doughty little scrapper for the sake of the tasty meal he will\nfurnish.\nLittle is known of gopher family life. For the most part, they are\nsolitary individuals, avoiding others of their kind. At breeding time,\nhowever, they may travel some distance across country to find a mate.\nThese trips usually are carried out under cover of darkness. The young\naverage four in number. They are born late in the spring and do not\nleave to make their own homes until early autumn.\nPhysically the gopher exhibits a striking adaptation to its way of life.\nThe fur is thick and warm. It keeps soil particles from working into the\nskin at the same time it protects the wearer from the chill of his\nunderground workings. The heavy, curved front claws are admirable\ndigging tools. In especially hard soil, the large strong incisors are\nalso pressed into service for this purpose. To remove the dirt from the\ntunnel, the gopher becomes an animal bulldozer. The front legs are\nemployed as a blade pushing the soil, while the powerful hind legs push\nthe body and load towards the nearest tunnel opening. The pockets from\nwhich this creature gets its common name are never used for hauling\nearth. They are hair-lined pouches located in each cheek and utilized\nfor carrying food to the storerooms. There they are emptied by placing\nthe forefeet behind them and pushing forward. Last, by virtue of its\nlocation, but certainly not least in usefulness, is the short, almost\nhairless tail. It is used as a tactile organ to feel out the way when\nthe gopher runs backwards through the tunnels. In some respects, it is\nof more use than the eyes although the gopher uses these too, as can be\nattested by the quickness with which it detects any movement near the\nmouth of its tunnel.\nThe gopher\u2019s place in Nature seems to be akin to that of the earthworm.\nBy turning over the soil, the gopher enables it to more readily absorb\nwater and air. At the same time, fertility is increased by the addition\nof buried plants and animal matter. This is indeed a fair exchange for\nthe plants it destroys in its quest for food.\n             _Including the Insectivores and Chiropterans_\nThis group is distinguished from other animals by having canine teeth in\nboth jaws. The function of these teeth is to catch and hold other\nanimals, for carnivores are the predators. This is the most highly\ndeveloped branch of the animal world and reaches a peak of\nspecialization in man who, while lacking some of the physical\nqualifications of the other predators, has developed a brain which has\nenabled him to gain and keep ascendancy over all other animals.\nConsidered with the group in this book are two other orders, the\nInsectivora and the Chiroptera. These orders embrace the mammals in\nNorth America that live principally on worms or insects rather than on\nother mammals. They are the shrews and bats, respectively.\nSince carnivores are the hunters rather than the hunted, they enjoy far\ngreater mobility than, for instance, the rodents. It is not necessary\nthat they have a burrow in which to escape the attacks of other animals,\nfor it is unusual for them to prey upon each other. Most of the\npredators remain in one area only from choice or, in the case of adult\nfemales, in order to rear the young. Few of them hibernate; bears and\nskunks do spend a considerable time during the cold weather in a torpor,\nbut it is an uneasy sleep at best, as anyone who has disturbed these\nanimals at this time can attest. As far as the Chiroptera are concerned,\nsome species of bats hibernate and others migrate to a warmer climate to\nspend the winter. Since most of the predators are active all winter,\nwhile many of the rodents are in hibernation, this can be a period of\nfamine for carnivores. At the same time, it is a season of increased\ndanger for those species which are still active and upon which these\npredators prey.\nBecause these hunters are continually stalking other animals, their\nhabitats are as varied as those of their quarries. Thus, the mountain\nlion is a creature of the rimrock, where he can most conveniently find\ndeer browsing on mountain-mahogany; while his smaller cousin, the\nbobcat, stalks smaller animals in the slope chaparral. The wild dogs\nhunt plains and brushy country for ground squirrels and rabbits. In the\nweasel family we find the marten in the treetops pursuing squirrels, the\nweasel hunting mice in the meadow, and mink and otter pursuing prey near\nto or in the water, Some species, such as the bears, are omnivorous and\nmay be encountered almost anywhere that a plentiful supply of food of\nany kind can be found. Practically all of the species, excepting bats\nand skunks, can be considered diurnal as well as nocturnal, but the\nmajority are most active during the hours between dusk and sunrise.\nSince the carnivores\u2019 purpose in Nature\u2019s scheme is to control the\nvegetable eaters, it follows that each predator must be somewhat\nsuperior, either physically or mentally, or both, to the species upon\nwhich it preys. The associations between pursuer and pursued may be\ncasual with species such as the coyote, which preys on a great number of\nsmaller species, or they may be sharply defined as with the lynx, which\nin certain localities depends almost entirely upon the snowshoe hare for\nfood. The apparent ferocity with which some predators will kill, not\nonly enough for a meal, but much more than they need, cannot as yet be\nexplained. This habit is most pronounced in the weasel family. It may be\nthat more than ordinary control is called for in the case of their host\nspecies, rodents in most cases. Whatever the reason, this wanton killing\nhas not upset the balance which these species maintain. Man, the most\nruthless and intelligent predator of all, is the only species which has\nbeen successful in exterminating others.\nThe predators hold a favored place in the esteem of most naturalists. At\nfirst, sympathy for the weak and indignation against the strong are\nperfectly natural human feelings. As the necessity for control and the\nwonderful way in which Nature attains a balance becomes apparent, the\nrole of the predator becomes more and more appreciated by the student.\n_Felis concolor_ (Latin: a cat of the same color; referring no doubt to\n              the smooth blending of the body coloration)\nRange: At present, mostly confined to the western United States and\nCanada, and all of Mexico south to the southern tip of South America.\nThere are a number of mountain lions in Florida, and persistent reports\nindicate that they may be making a comeback in a number of other Eastern\nStates.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: As the range indicates, habitats vary widely. Mountain lions in\nthe Southwest show a preference for rimrock country in the Transition\nLife Zone or higher, but they are often seen in all the life zones.\nDescription: A huge, tawny cat with long, heavy tail. The long tail is a\nfield mark identifying the young, which, having a spotted coat,\notherwise resemble young bobcats to some degree. Total length 72 to 90\ninches. Tail 30 to 36 inches. Weight 80 to 200 pounds. Color may vary\nfrom tawny gray to brownish red over most of the body, the underparts\nbeing lighter. The head and ears appear small in proportion to the lean\nmuscular body. The teeth are large, the canines being especially\nmassive. Like most members of the cat family, the mountain lion has\nlarge feet with long, sharp claws. The tracks show the imprint of four\ntoes together with a large pad in the center of the foot. The young may\nbe born at any time of the year. Only one litter is born every 2 to 3\nyears, and the average number of young is three.\nProbably no species of mammal in the New World equals the mountain lion\nin farflung distribution. From the Yukon to Patagonia, this elusive\ncarnivore can still be found in considerable numbers in spite of\naggressive campaigns against it. In the United States, it is the chief\nrepresentative of the wild cats, a group noted for fierce and predacious\nhabits. Fortunate indeed is the person who sees one of these great\nfelines in the wild. This may not be as difficult as one might imagine\nbecause mountain lions often travel through comparatively well settled\nareas. It is especially possible in the Southwest, for the four-State\narea covered by this book contains the heaviest population of mountain\nlions in the United States. However, the comparative abundance of this\ncarnivore has not resulted in a better understanding of it. The mountain\nlion is still one of the least known and most maligned creatures of our\ntimes.\n    [Illustration: mountain lion]\nThe Mexicans know this cosmopolite as \u201cleon.\u201d In Brazil it is called\n\u201conca.\u201d Perhaps the most distinguished name, and rating as the first in\nNew World history, is \u201cpuma,\u201d given it by the Incas. Early American\nsettlers of the east coast called it \u201cpanther,\u201d \u201cpainter,\u201d and\n\u201ccatamount.\u201d In the northwestern United States, it is known as \u201ccougar\u201d\nand in the Southwest, as mountain lion. Although there is but the one\nspecies _concolor_, there are a number of subspecies. About 15 are now\nrecognized, most of them geographical races and not markedly different\nfrom the species. Four of these subspecies are found in the four States\nwith which we are concerned. One of the most interesting is\n_hippolestes_ which inhabits the State of Colorado. Translated from the\nGreek this is \u201chorse thief,\u201d an appropriate epithet indeed for this\nghostly marauder. As might be expected from their vast distribution, the\nseveral subspecies have a tremendous vertical range. In the Southwest\nthey are found from near sea level in southwestern Arizona to the tops\nof the highest peaks in Colorado.\nIn the more than four centuries that have elapsed since the white man\nfirst set foot on soil of the New World, a great mass of folklore\nconcerning the mountain lion has accumulated. Half fact, half fiction,\nthese tales have been repeated from one generation to another and few\ndetails have been lost in the telling; indeed, in most cases, several\nhave been added. Most common are those which describe its fierceness and\nits attacks on man. In the main, these tales are lurid and convincing,\nbut they do not stand up under scientific scrutiny. It is true that such\nattacks have occurred; one of the most recent and best verified was that\non a 13-year old boy in Okanogan County, Washington, in 1924. It\nresulted in the death and partial devouring of the unfortunate\nyoungster. Yet sensational as this incident was, it resulted in\npublicity far out of proportion to its importance. In fact, articles\nconcerning this case are still appearing at intervals. The truth of the\nmatter is that very few authentic cases of mountain lion attacks upon\nhumans have ever occurred in the United States, and that most of these\n_could_ have been caused by the mountain lion\u2019s being rabid. Certainly\nsuch attacks are not typical behavior of the normal animal. As far as\nman is concerned, the lion will take flight whenever possible, and even\nwhen cornered it is not nearly so pugnacious as its little cousin, the\nbobcat.\nOther stories about the mountain lion often emphasize the bloodcurdling\nscreams with which it preludes its stalk of some unfortunate person deep\nin the forest. The facts are that there is no reason to believe that\nlions cannot or do not scream, but most authorities agree that such\nvocal expressions are most likely to be made by an old male courting his\nlady love or warning away a rival. The cats are creatures of stealth and\ncunning that creep upon their prey as noiselessly as possible. Lions\nwould hardly announce their presence with the sort of screams with which\nthey are credited. It seems safe to say that at least 90 percent of\nthese alleged screams can be traced to owls or amorous bobcats.\nOftentimes these sounds have been linked to large tracks found in the\nvicinity as proof that a mountain lion was in the area. This has led one\nauthor to remark that \u201cthe witness usually is unable to distinguish the\ntrack of a large dog from that of a mountain lion.\u201d In addition, the\ninfrequent screams made by captive mountain lions indicate that such\nsounds in Nature would be far from spectacular. They consist of a sound\nthat is more like a whistle than the demoniacal wail so often ascribed\nto the wild animal.\nMany stories are told of a person, usually a pioneer ancestor, who has\nbeen followed by a mountain lion. In most cases this person has returned\nto the area suitably armed and with witnesses who found tracks of the\nbeast together with those of their friend. Strange to say, such\nincidents are not at all uncommon. They have been recorded and verified\na number of times. In these cases the animal often has made no effort at\nconcealment but has followed the person quite openly. Despite this\nboldness it seems there is no sinister motive, merely a naive and\nsurprising curiosity on the part of the big cat as to what kind of\ncreature man is. It is most unfortunate that so little data have been\nrecorded in these instances, yet this is quite understandable under the\ncircumstances.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nFinally, in most stories there is only one size of mountain lion\u2014big! As\nthe story makes its rounds the lion never gets smaller; it invariably\ngrows larger. Somehow the records have missed all these really big\nlions. Any lion which measures more than 8 feet in length and 200 pounds\nin weight will be an extremely large, old male in the record class. The\naverage will be much smaller. Statistics show most lions to be 5 to 7\nfeet in length and 80 to 130 pounds in weight for adult females, and 6\nto 8 feet in length with weights of 120 to 200 pounds for adult males.\nErrors in estimating the size of these big cats are easily accounted\nfor. In the first place the lion is a long, low, sleek creature that\ngives an impression of being longer than it is. Too, its size is\nunconsciously exaggerated by many people who are impressed with its\ntremendous power and agility. Many of its feats of strength seem\nimpossible for an animal so small. Lastly, its tanned hide may be\navailable for measurement. Actually this proves nothing; hides often are\nstretched 2 feet or more at the time the animal is skinned, and tanning\ndoes not shrink them appreciably.\nNone of the above is meant to detract in any way from the reputation of\nthe mountain lion or its place in American folklore. It is the third\nlargest predator in the Southwest, being exceeded only by the jaguar and\nthe bear in size, and surpassing them both in agility. In the past, it\nhas been feared and hated by those whose herds and flocks have suffered\nfrom its depredations. Their efforts to exterminate it have resulted in\ngrave biological problems at times, but in the light of more advanced\nstudy it seems probable this big carnivore will be spared in the future\nto keep its rightful place in our wilder areas.\nThe mountain lion \u201cgoes with the deer\u201d; that is to say, its function is\nto keep deer in check so that they will not eat up their range and\nstarve to death. Though at first glance such a possibility seems out of\nthe question, this has become a serious problem in recent years. It will\nbe further intensified as suitable deer range becomes more restricted\nwith the advance of civilization. Another function of the mountain\nlion-deer relationship is to weed out the diseased and inferior\nindividuals so that the deer herd will remain healthy and up to good\nphysical standards. It may be argued that the same end is reached by\nhunting, and so it is, with one major exception. The nimrod, intent on a\nfine trophy head, takes the buck in the prime of life, a time when he\nshould be sireing the herd of the future. The cougar does not\nconsciously select its victims; it takes the most easily caught, thus\nleaving the wisest and healthiest survivors as breeding stock.\nThough deer are the lion\u2019s preferred food, many other species of mammals\nare preyed upon when deer are scarce. These range in size from the\nsmallest rodents to animals as large as elk. Among the more unlikely\nspecies recorded are skunk and bobcat. The lion also has the dubious\ndistinction of being one of the chief predators of the porcupine. Dining\non this last species is fraught with danger, however, because no matter\nhow expertly the carcass is removed from its spiney covering, a few\nquills will penetrate the flesh of the diner. Little prey other than\nmammals is ever taken. Birds are not easily caught by such a large\nanimal and, although it does not shun water, it is poorly equipped to\ntake any form of aquatic life. The mountain lion will not eat carrion\nexcept under the most dire circumstances and prefers food that it has\nkilled itself.\nThere are two principal methods by which the mountain lion catches its\nprey. The stalk and pounce technique of the common house cat is most\neffective in brushy country where the low crouch of the lion places its\nbulk behind the close ground cover. With tip of tail twitching, it\ncreeps forward until a short run and spring, or the spring alone, will\ncarry it to the front flank of the unsuspecting victim. If the neck of\nthe hunted is not broken by the impact of the heavy body, the sharp\nclaws or massive canine teeth are brought into play to rip the jugular\nvein and end the struggle. In the other method of hunting, the lion\nchooses a ledge above a game trail and simply waits there until some\nanimal to its liking passes below. The weight of its body usually is\nsufficient to bear the victim to the ground and it is soon dispatched.\nMountain lion studies in California have determined that in hunting deer\nthe animal will catch one in every three attempts. It has been estimated\nthat in an area of heavy deer population each mountain lion will kill\none each week. It is of interest to note that in many places in the\nSouthwest deer are on the increase, indicating the need for more\npredators to keep down their number.\nSince the mountain lion has few enemies, its reproduction rate is low.\nTwo to four kittens are born in each litter, but usually at 2- to 3-year\nintervals. Dens are sometimes located deep among the rocks; others may\nbe no more than a grass nest in the brush on a rocky ridge. Like\ndomestic kittens the young are born blind. They have an interesting\ncolor pattern at birth, a strongly spotted coat and a faintly ringed\ntail. This completely disappears when they are about half grown, leaving\nthem with the tawny reddish coat which blends so well with their\nsurroundings. They mature at about 2 years of age; beautifully evolved\nkillers which must be admired by everyone who has come to understand the\nmethods by which Nature regulates the animal world.\n        _Lynx rufus_ (Latin: name of animal, and rufus, reddish)\nRange: Common throughout much of the United States and Mexico. Found\nthroughout the Southwest.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: This common species is found in all zones wherever there is\nsufficient cover to hide it.\nDescription: A bobcat distinguished from the lynx by having small ear\ntufts, a more rufous color, and a black band which crosses only the\nupper surface of the tail tip. Total length 30 to 35 inches. Tail 5\ninches. Weight 15 to 30 pounds. This is a chunky animal with long,\nmuscular legs and large feet. The sides of the face are heavily streaked\nwith black, backs of ears dark, coat generally tawny to rufous above,\nunderparts lighter. Dark spots rather prominent throughout coat, insides\nof front legs often barred with darker color. Young from two to six,\nusually born in early spring; only one litter per year.\nThese are the most common wild members of the cat family in the\nSouthwest. Their distribution over the United States takes a strange\npattern, inasmuch as they are not found in several of the midwestern and\nsoutheastern States, and in a large area in central Mexico. In all there\nare a dozen subspecies of _Lynx rufus_ in North America. They are tough\nlittle predators, among the last to retreat before the advance of\ncivilization. In fact, they may often be found on the very fringes of\nour larger cities, existing on the rats that infest the city dump.\nIn the wilder areas, which are the bobcat\u2019s appropriate home, its tracks\nare distinguishable from those of the larger _Felidae_ only by their\nsmaller size. Like the larger members of the cat family, it is equipped\nwith a set of strong retractile and extremely sharp claws. Although\nthere are five toes on each front foot and only four on the hind feet,\nthe tracks of both feet are similar. This is because the fifth toe,\ncorresponding to our thumb, is so high on the inside of the foreleg that\nnormally it does not touch the ground. During normal travel the claws\nare always in the retracted position and never show in the tracks. All\nnative cats have a tendency to place the hind feet in the tracks left by\nthe front feet, so that in effect each track is a double print. This may\nbe one of the reasons a cat\u2019s approach is so silent!\n    [Illustration: bobcat]\nBobcats have numerous traits in common with their relative, _Lynx\ncanadensis_ (not treated in this book because of its extreme rarity in\nthe Southwest), but are more versatile in their dietary tastes. While\nthe lynx is sufficiently dependent on the snowshoe hare that its\npopulation corresponds closely in fluctuation with that of its \u201chost,\u201d\nthe bobcat has a much less discriminating appetite. It also loves\nsnowshoe hares and rabbits, but takes various other mammals as\nopportunity offers, and ground-living birds. Bobcats will even eat\ncarrion, but prefer fresh meat. They are reliably reported to eat\nporcupines, young pronghorns, deer, and sheep, both bighorn and\ndomestic; and they sometimes kill adult deer, although this is a\ndifficult and dangerous proceeding. Usually a kill is at least partially\ncovered with debris, and the cat will return at least once to feed again\non it.\nThough bobcats are the least spectacular of our native cats they are the\nmost numerous and evenly distributed. Thus collectively they may be of\nmore importance in Nature\u2019s master plan than we realize. Their role may\neven increase in importance as time goes on, because of the increasing\nscarcity of the larger cat species.\n _Vulpes fulva_ (Latin: a fox ... fulva, meaning deep yellow or tawny)\nRange: Found throughout most of North America north of the Mexican\nborder. Exceptions in the United States are areas in the southeastern\nand central States and desert portions of the Southwest.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: In the Southwest these foxes are restricted to wooded areas of\nmountains. They usually are found in the Transition Life Zone or higher.\nDescription: About the size of a small dog, having a bushy tail with\nwhite tip. Total length 36 to 40 inches. Tail 14 to 16 inches. Weight 10\nto 15 pounds. Besides the type, this fox has at least two well-defined\ncolor phases with many intermediate forms. These will be considered\nseparately. A typical western form of red fox will be more yellow than\nred. The brightest red will be a rufous median line running down the\nback. This fades to an ochre yellow along the edges and grades to the\nlighter yellow of the sides. The tail is usually dark yellow with black\nguard hairs and always a white tip. The underparts are light yellow to\nwhite. Fronts of feet and lower legs and backs of ears are always very\ndark to black. The underfur is lead-colored. The head is small with\nlarge ears, yellowish eyes having elliptical pupils, narrow nose and\njaws. The young, four to six in a litter, are born early in the summer\nand but one litter is produced each year.\nThe western form of red fox might more aptly be named the \u201cyellow\u201d fox,\nsince it is definitely more yellow than red. To add to the confusion,\nthe gray fox, _Urocyon cinereoargenteus_, of the West usually has more\ngood red in its coat than the red fox. However, the gray fox is a\ndenizen of the desert and will not often be found at elevations\npreferred by the red fox. In addition, its tail is tipped with black;\nthis definitely separates the two species at a glance. The differences\nof color phases within the red fox group are more pronounced and have\nled many people to consider them separate species. The two most distinct\ntypes of these varieties are known as the \u201ccross\u201d fox and the \u201cblack\u201d or\n\u201csilver\u201d fox.\nThe term \u201ccross\u201d fox refers neither to the disposition of the animal nor\nto its being a hybrid variety, although it often is cross or mean and is\nnot a hybrid. It alludes to the dark cross on its back. This is formed\nby a dark to black median line crossing at right angles to a dark band\nthat traverses the shoulders. Its effect is increased by considerable\namounts of gray and black mixed with the normal yellow color of the\nsides. The long hairs of the tail are yellowish gray to black, the\ngeneral effect being dark but, as with the type, the tip is pure white.\nAs might be expected, there are many gradations between this color phase\nand the type, some of them being among the most striking and beautiful\nfoxes in the world.\nThe \u201cblack\u201d or \u201csilver\u201d fox is a melanistic form of the red fox. In the\nmost striking form it is a smooth shining black, the general sombreness\nof its coat being relieved by a sprinkling of silvery white guard hairs.\nThese are thickest in the area of the shoulders, on the posterior\nportion of the back, and on the top and sides of the head. The\nunderparts, though black, lack the lustrous \u201cfinish\u201d so evident on the\nback and sides. The tip of the tail is pure white in this form also.\nThis is the \u201csilver\u201d fox of commerce, an animal which through selective\nbreeding has become standardized in the fur industry. Nevertheless, the\nblack color is a recessive character, as evidenced by the throw-backs\nthat often make their appearance in otherwise black litters. Without\nconstant vigilance on the part of breeders, the \u201csilver\u201d fox would soon\nbecome a rarity again. The Mendelian law cannot be cancelled out by a\nfew generations of selective breeding.\nThe foxes are the smallest canines native to the United States. Though\nthey look much larger because of their long fur and bushy tail, the\naverage red fox will not outweigh a large house cat. They make up for\nthis lack of size, however, by being exceedingly quick in their\nmovements. They are thus able to catch many of the small mammals which\noutmaneuver coyotes and wolves. Rabbits are about the largest mammals\nwith which they can cope, but mice, woodrats, pikas, and ground\nsquirrels are all a common part of their diet. In addition, they take\nmany large insects and ground nesting birds and eggs whenever possible.\nFoxes are not as omnivorous as coyotes, but they relish berries and\nstone fruits and sometimes raid watermelon patches.\nThe social life of foxes is most interesting. The family is a closely\nknit unit which as a rule does not break up until the young are well\nable to care for themselves. Foxes are monogamous; that is, they\nnormally choose their mates for life. Dens may be in burrows dug in the\nsoil or in deep crevices in the rocks. They are usually in some spot\nwhere there is a good view of the surrounding territory. The pups are\nborn rather early in the spring and by early summer will be playing\naround in the den entrance, although they do not venture to any distance\nuntil much later. Should the den be approached while the young are in\nit, the female often will be very bold in her attempts to lead the\nintruders away from it. As soon as the young are weaned the male joins\nhis mate in bringing food to them. By early fall, the family is hunting\ntogether.\nThe red fox has been a symbol of sagacity and cunning since long before\nAesop. Much of this reputation is well earned, as witness their stubborn\nwithdrawal as civilization surrounds them. Yet sometime one wonders if\ntheir wisdom is not overrated. I am reminded of an old female who every\nyear whelped her young in the mouth of a tile drain which drained a\nmarshy piece of ground that had since become dry. The upper end of the\ntile was buried some 15 feet below the surface of the ground. My friend\nwould watch the area until the pups were about half grown. Then he would\nblock the entrance to the tile with a box trap and catch them as hunger\ndrove them out to the bait. This went on for several years, the old\nvixen never seeming to learn from bitter experience that her family\nwould be taken away from her.\n    [Illustration: red fox]\n                 _Canis lupus_ (Latin: dog ... a wolf)\nRange: Canada and Alaska north to the northern coast of Greenland. In\nthe United States it is found in three widely separated areas in Oregon,\nUtah and Colorado, and New Mexico and Arizona. It extends south into the\ntablelands of Mexico.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: In the Southwest the wolf, like the coyote, is leaving the\nplains, which are its chosen habitat, to live in the broken country of\nthe Transition Life Zone.\nDescription: Doglike in appearance, but larger than a big dog. Carries\nits short, bushy tail above the horizontal when traveling. The gray wolf\nis almost unbelievably big. Total length 55 to 67 inches. Tail 12 to 19\ninches. Height at shoulders 26 to 28 inches. Weight 70 to 170 pounds.\nThese animals show a tremendous variation in color, but the average\nindividual will appear very much like a big German shepherd dog. From\nthis average, they will vary from the almost white coat found in Alaska\nto the black phase of the red wolf of Texas. The head of the wolf is\ndistinctive. It has a broad face with a wide but short nose. The\nstraw-yellow eyes have round pupils. The ears are short and round, much\nmore like a dog\u2019s than a coyote\u2019s. The feet, in keeping with the rest of\nthe body, are large. The front feet have five toes; as is usual with\ncanines, the first toe or \u201cthumb\u201d does not touch the ground. The hind\nfoot has but 4 toes. These animals have a high reproduction rate. Each\nyear the single litter may consist of from 3 to 4 to as many as 12; the\naverage is assumed to be from 6 to 8.\nThe wolf\u2019s association with man is older than recorded history. When man\nfirst gained his ascendency over other mammals, the wolf is believed to\nhave been the progenitor of the dog. As man\u2019s partner in the chase, it\nhelped him become the one superior animal capable of exterminating it.\nAt the present time, man has come close to doing just that. Only a few\nof these magnificent wild dogs remain in the United States. Those are\nconcentrated mainly in the Southwest, and some of them undoubtedly have\ncome across the border from Mexico. Before long the species probably\nwill become extinct in this country, but the large numbers remaining in\nAlaska and Canada should persist for many years.\nMuch of the public antipathy for wolves comes from literature. Who, as a\nchild, has not thrilled to the danger that surrounded Little Red Riding\nHood, and rejoiced at the ultimate end of the arch villain? Long before\nanimated cartooning took over nursery rhymes, children\u2019s books were well\nthumbmarked at the page where the \u201cbig bad wolf huffed and puffed and\nblew the house down.\u201d To \u201ckeep the wolf from the door\u201d is an expression\nas full of meaning today as it was in the 15th century when the animal\nbecame extinct in England. The wolf has always been a symbol of taking\nruthlessly. The genus _lupinus_ (Latin: wolf), a beautiful group of\nplants of the pea family, is so called because early botanists thought\nit robbed the soil. The \u201cwolf\u201d so often encountered at house parties is\nincluded in this class. None of these characterizations gives a good\nimpression, and all are indicative of man\u2019s feeling toward the wolf. It\nis most unfortunate that man so often condemns anything which interferes\nwith his own economic progress. Nature has a place for the wolf, a\nspecialized task for which it is admirably adapted.\nIn the days before the white man, bison roamed the western plains in\ngreat herds which were constantly followed by packs of wolves and\ncoyotes. As long as the bison remained close together they were\nrelatively safe, but woe to the sick or weak that lagged behind. These\nwere quickly pulled down, and after wolves had eaten the choicest\nportions, the coyotes and vultures moved in for the rest. When the white\nman exterminated the bison, the wolves\u2019 host was gone and they turned to\nthe logical substitute, the white man\u2019s cattle. This could have but one\nresult. In the predator control campaign which followed, a wedge was\ndriven through the wolf population of the Southwest, leaving one group\nisolated in Utah and Colorado and another in southern Arizona and New\nMexico. The latter group is actually formed by immigration of wolves\nfrom Mexico. It fluctuates in numbers as the animals move back and forth\nacross the border in response to local conditions. During the\nextermination program, the behavior of the wolf was affected to a\nconsiderable extent.\nAccounts of early travelers stress the easy familiarity with which the\ngray wolf accepted their presence. When a wayfarer shot a bison, the\nwolf sat down within easy range and waited until the choicest cuts had\nbeen taken away. It then moved in for its share. Since that time the\nwolf has become one of the most wary and cunning of our wild creatures.\nGifted with a keen intelligence, it has found that only by complete\nisolation can it escape the methods devised for its destruction. To this\nend, it has moved from the plains into the more inaccessible places in\nthe mountains. Few will ever see a wolf in the Southwest again, and I\nconsider myself fortunate to have seen this gray ghost of the plains in\nyears long past, and to have heard its deep howl break the silence of a\ncold winter night.\n    [Illustration: gray wolf]\n                _Canis latrans_ (Latin: dog ... barking)\nRange: The coyote is common throughout the Southwest.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: This little wolf, once a creature of the prairies, now is found\nin all life zones and among many different associations.\nDescription: Because of their varied associations and wide climatic\nrange, coyotes are of many sizes and colors. In general, they resemble a\nrather small, lean German shepherd dog with yellowish eyes. A good field\nmark is the bushy tail which is carried low while the animal is running\nand seldom is elevated above the horizontal at any time. Average total\nlength 43 to 55 inches. Tail 11 to 16 inches. Color tawny to reddish\ngray with white or light-colored throat and chest, dark legs and feet.\nThere is usually a dark median line down the back, and the tail also is\nsomewhat darker than the body. Coyotes are lean animals; despite an\nimpression of bulkiness suggested by the long fur, a large coyote seldom\nweighs more than 30 pounds. The track is much like that of a\nmedium-sized dog; however, the prints of the claws tend to converge\ntoward a center line more than those of the domestic animal. Coyotes are\nmoderately prolific. The average litter contains from 4 to 6 pups,\nalthough as many as 11 have been recorded. The best indication that\ncoyotes are in an area is their \u201csinging\u201d during the evening. They will\nsometimes greet the sunrise, but are infrequently heard during the day.\nThere probably is more controversy about the status of the coyote in its\nrelationship to other animals than any other North American mammal\ntoday. The solution to the argument can be found by taking a 10 minute\nwalk through a bit of the great outdoors. Those living things, plant or\nanimal, which cannot adapt themselves to most changing conditions\npresented by a slowly dying world must perish. Those which survive do so\nbecause they have a mission to fulfill; they must give as well as take\nfrom their environment. To me, the unequalled ability of the coyote to\nwithstand the campaigns of man toward its extermination indicates that\nthis animal must be an especially favored child of Nature. Certainly\nmany of the subtle relationships which it maintains with its\nassociations have never been fully explored and others have not been\ndiscovered.\nIn the light of recent studies and with the influence of excellent\ndocumentary films in its favor, the coyote\u2019s place in Nature is now\nbecoming better known to the public. There seems to be no valid reason\nwhy people, who in general like dogs, should express indifference to the\nfate of this little wolf, which is but a wild dog with what most\nnaturalists agree is a higher degree of native cunning and intelligence\nthan that of the average domestic breed. In general, this attitude seems\nto stem from unfavorable and usually inaccurate stories circulated by\nword of mouth. A few hours spent in reading the scientific literature on\nthe coyote will disprove many of these folk tales. For lighter reading\ntry J. Frank Dobie\u2019s _The Voice of the Coyote_ (Little, Brown & Co.,\nBoston 1949) or _Sierra Outpost_ (Duell, Sloan & Pearce, 1941) by Lila\nLoftberg and David Malcolmson. These delightful accounts present the\ncoyote for what it is\u2014one of the more important creatures in animal\nsociety.\n    [Illustration: coyote]\nWhen the first whites pushed their way across the western prairies, the\ncoyote was chiefly a plains animal. Here it lived along the fringes of\nthe huge bison herds, seldom venturing to make its own kills but sharing\nwith the vultures the remnants left from those of the big gray wolves.\nWith small game it was more successful, making heavy inroads upon the\nrodent and rabbit population. Then, as now, the coyote was also a\nscavenger and helped rid the plains of the carcasses of larger animals\nwhich died of natural causes. When the bison and wolves were practically\nexterminated, the coyote \u201ctook to the hills\u201d and now is as frequently\nencountered in the higher mountains as anywhere. Farther west in the\ndesert areas the story has been much the same. As civilization has\nadvanced, the coyote has stubbornly retreated into the hills until now\nits \u201csong\u201d is heard in the highest canyons. The medium size and\nomnivorous tastes are factors which probably have much to do with its\nsuccess in this new environment.\nAbout half way between the gray fox and gray wolf in size, the coyote is\nlarge enough to subdue the big hares, yet nimble enough to catch the\nsmaller rodents which make up a large part of its animal diet. The rest\nis supplied by a long list of other small creatures which are less often\nencountered, including birds, reptiles, and insects. The vegetable\nportion of its food is no less varied. Berries, stone fruits, cactus\nfruit, various gourds, some herbs, and even grass are eaten in\nconsiderable quantity, depending on the season and availability of meat.\nBesides this diet of what might be called fresh food, the coyote will\nusually take carrion. This is the basis for many unfounded accusations\nagainst the species. Because scats are sometimes composed almost\nentirely of the hair of such large mammals as deer, elk and mountain\nsheep, the coyote is thought to be killing these animals. Actual records\nof such occurrences are rare; the coyote is not built for such big game.\nNature meant this to be the province of the gray wolf. Should such\npredation by coyotes take place, some other factor undoubtedly would\nrestore the balance before long. Nature\u2019s laws are as definite as those\nof human society and far more sternly enforced.\nThe family life of these intelligent creatures is interesting in its\nvariations. No two pairs will follow any given pattern. As a rule\ncoyotes, like wolves, will mate for life; but should one be killed, the\nother will usually seek another partner. Breeding takes place in early\nspring, followed some 60 to 65 days later by the appearance of a litter\nof up to 11 pups. The den is usually at the end of a burrow dug in soft\nsoil close to a vantage point which overlooks the surrounding area. More\nrarely the den is chosen in a crevice among the rocks, and some have\nbeen found which are no more than hollows in the shelter of overhanging\nshrubs. During early life of the pups the male coyote is not allowed to\napproach them. Later, when they are able to take solid food, he brings\nhis offerings to the neighborhood and the female carries them to the\nyoung. Up until the time the pups are able to leave the den, both\nparents are extremely wary in their approach to the area. They usually\ncome in down wind so as to detect the presence of an intruder. If a\nhuman investigates too closely, the pups are moved to a new location at\nonce.\nWhen the young are big enough to emerge from the den, a new phase of\ntheir existence begins. At first, they play around the entrance like a\ngroup of collie pups, stopping now and then to survey this wonderful new\nworld with wide eyes. Soon the wandering instinct asserts itself,\nhowever, and they begin to make short sorties away from the den. This is\nthe time the parents have been anticipating. Now the young can be taken\naway from an area which becomes more dangerous with every passing day.\nThe family may now hunt as a unit, initiating the young into the coyote\nway of life, or the mother may scatter the young along the perimeter of\nher range, bringing food to them as she makes her rounds. In either\nevent, they soon learn to fend for themselves and by the following\nspring are mature animals.\nUnlike his larger relative, the gray wolf, which is a great traveler,\nthe coyote will establish a range and stick to it. In time, he will\nlearn every yard of it and will notice the slightest changes. This is of\ngreat importance, not only in evading attempts on his life but also in\nthe matter of filling his stomach. The woodrat, which tonight may be\ndeep within its fortress of rock and branches, will be remembered and\ncalled upon again tomorrow when it may be out foraging for pinyon nuts.\nThe cottontail, which reached the brush pile last night, may be\nintercepted en route tonight.\nSeveral coyotes often share the same range and hunt together. This is\nespecially true of a mated pair which is feeding young. Such a\ncombination is especially efficient in running down such animals as\njackrabbits and, more rarely, pronghorns. These creatures tend to run in\na circle, and the coyotes alternate in chasing and resting until the\nanimal is exhausted. Then they both close in for the kill. Pronghorn\nhunting is fraught with danger, however, especially during the time\ntheir young are small. These sharp-hoofed animals have been known to\npursue and kill coyotes.\nIt is to be hoped that the relentless persecution of the coyote will\nsoon be a thing of the past. The species has an important place in the\necology of the Southwest, and it cannot be removed without seriously\naffecting the status of its associates. This is a situation that is\ndeplored by anyone interested in natural history. It is unthinkable that\nthe West should lose this colorful species that is so interwoven with\nits legends and history.\n    _Gulo luscus_ (Latin: having to do with the throat ... one eyed;\nRange: Canada and the high mountains of California, Utah, Colorado, and\npossibly New Mexico.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: Near timberline in the most remote areas.\nDescription: A large (20 to 35 pounds), dark-colored animal somewhat\nresembling a small bear in build. Total length 36 to 41 inches. Tail 7\nto 9 inches. In coloration the wolverine shows variation, but with no\nsharp contrasts. The back is dark brown, shading to a paler color on top\nof the head. The sides of the body are marked with dull yellowish bands\nwhich begin at the shoulders and join near the root of the tail. The\nunderparts are lighter and usually a \u201cblaze\u201d or spot of white decorates\nthe front of the chest. The legs are short and exceptionally powerful,\nthe large feet are armed with long, horn-colored claws. These register\nrather prominently in the track which otherwise is somewhat like that of\na large bobcat. The breeding habits of the wolverine are not well known,\nbut it is assumed the den is located among rocks in talus slopes. The\naverage number of young is thought to be four or less. They are born\nearly in the year.\nThis mammal, largest of the weasel family, possibly will never be seen\nby anyone who reads these lines, so scarce has it become in the United\nStates. Yet, because it is such a notorious animal and so little\nunderstood, and because it has been recorded in both Utah and Colorado\nseveral times, and long suspected to have been a native of New Mexico,\nit is here included. It would be a shame, indeed, for a layman to see\nthis celebrated creature and not be aware of this unusual good fortune.\nThe wolverine has been an object of fear and revulsion not only to the\nwhite man but to the Indian. It seems to be one of the few mammals which\ngoes out of its way to create destruction and carries a chip on its\nshoulder toward all other animals which interfere with its desires. It\nis a creature of mystery, whose life history at this late date we shall\nprobably never fully learn before it becomes extinct.\nWhen the Hudson Bay Company trappers invaded upper North America they\nfound the Objibwa Indians living in a sort of armed truce with the\nwolverine. They called it \u201cCarcajou,\u201d a term said to have been derived\nfrom the Algonquin, and accorded it the respect due a malevolent spirit.\nI have forgotten the Chippewa name for the animal, but I well remember\nthat it was considered a \u201cwindigo\u201d or evil spirit. Eskimos coveted its\nfur for trimming the hoods of their parkas. The long guard hairs\nprotected the face from the bitter air without collecting frost, and the\nunderfur did not collect snow and frost like other furs.\n    [Illustration: wolverine]\nThe scientific name of the wolverine is interesting. _Gulo_, the Latin\nterm for throat, no doubt has reference to the gluttonous habits of the\nanimal. _Luscus_, also Latin, means one-eyed or, as some authors\nsuggest, blind. This may refer to the small eyes, so deeply set as to be\nalmost invisible at a little distance, or may date back to the first\nwolverine taken to Europe from Hudson Bay. This specimen was said to\nhave lost one eye, and the name may have been derived from that. At any\nrate, the normal wolverine is neither one-eyed nor blind.\nThe wide distribution of the wolverine provides an admirable example of\nwhat life zones mean. This same species lives at timberline in the high\nmountains of desert country and is also found at or near sea level far\nnorth of the Arctic Circle. It is well adapted to this environment, with\nexceptionally thick and heavy fur which does not mat easily with snow.\nIn addition, during the season of greatest snowfall, the edges of the\nfeet and toes grow stiff hairs which, in effect, act as small snowshoes,\nand enable the animal to travel with less effort.\nFood habits of the wolverine are far from selective. Heavy and clumsy in\nbuild, it is doubtful if many large game animals fall prey to this\nawkward hunter. However, it does not hesitate to drive larger predators\naway from their kills and appropriate them for itself. At such times it\neats as much as it can, then hides the rest for future repasts. It will\nreturn to the site until the remains are completely devoured, even if\nthey spoil in the meantime. Natural prey includes rodents which it can\ndig out of burrows, and such ground-nesting birds as it comes across in\nits travels. It is said to be one of the few successful predators of the\nporcupine. Thief, predator, and scavenger, the wolverine roams its\nisolated ranges feared by hunter and hunted alike.\nThe wolverine is one of the few animals that seems to take malicious\ndelight in harassing human beings. Though robbing of traps can be\nexplained by hunger, theft and destruction of the traps themselves seems\nto represent deliberate and clever planning. So, too, does the breaking\ninto and entering of isolated cabins with attendant pilferage of their\ncontents. What cannot be eaten is either broken up and defiled or\ncarried away and hidden.\n            _Martes americana_ (Latin: a marten ... America)\nRange: North America from Alaska through the greater part of Canada,\nthence through northwestern, United States and south into California,\nUtah, Colorado, and New Mexico.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: Usually coniferous forests of the Canadian Life Zone up to the\nAlpine Zone.\nDescription: In the trees, this animal is often mistaken for a large\nsquirrel. On closer inspection it will resemble a house cat with a\nshort, bushy tail. Total length 22 to 27 inches. Tail 7 to 9 inches.\nWeight 2 to 4 pounds. The coloration of the marten is distinctive. The\nbody is a beautiful, soft, yellow-brown, darker on the back, legs and\ntail. On the chest the color lightens to a pale buff or sometimes a\nrather distinct orange. The underparts are lighter than the rest of the\nbody. The fur is extremely fine and thick. It is distinctive in being\nalmost entirely underfur, there being very few guard hairs. The body is\nextremely graceful with relatively long legs and small feet. The head is\nsmall with features somewhat resembling those of the weasel. The ears\nare large for a member of the weasel family and lend an alert appearance\nto the face. This alertness is further borne out by the lively movements\nof this animal, which is the most active of any in that group.\nThe marten, often called \u201cpine marten,\u201d is one of the most solitary\nanimals of a group whose members habitually travel alone. Perhaps this\nis because in this family of predators each species is fully able to\noverpower any resistance put up by its accustomed prey, individually and\nnot through force in numbers. Perhaps, too, it is because the entire\ngroup is made up of voracious eaters which, if they ran in packs, could\nnot encounter enough prey to adequately feed them all. Finally, this\nclan has several species which instinctively kill far in excess of\nnormal needs. This is a practice which, almost without exception, is\nconfined to those members of the weasel family which prey on rodents. It\nis evidently one of Nature\u2019s methods of controlling the rodent\npopulation. To operate at highest efficiency these killers should hunt\nalone. These factors all apply in some degree to the marten. As a\nconsequence, although there may be many in an area, the marten is\nusually found alone except for a brief time during the breeding season\nor in the case of a female with young. The male evidently has no part in\nbringing up the family.\nThe marten has always been more or less plentiful throughout its range,\nand there is no reason to believe that it will not continue to be seen\nby alert observers for many years to come. Its chosen habitat is among\nthe evergreens near timberline. This is also an area of rock slides, and\nthe marten loves to hunt the small rodents which make their homes there.\nIndeed, it divides its time between the two environments, hunting in the\ntalus slopes during summer months, and taking to the trees in winter\nwhen rock slides are buried deep beneath the snow. It is an extremely\nhardy creature which holes up in an abandoned squirrel or woodpecker\nnest only during the short periods of storm, when hunting would be\nuseless. As might be expected, its summer and winter diets vary widely.\nBoth, however, have as their basic item the spruce squirrel, the\nimportant host of the marten, and like it a hardy creature that is\nabroad throughout the year.\nThere is considerable variety in the summer diet. On and in the ground\nthere is available an amazing number of species which are denied to the\nmarten during the winter, some because of protection afforded them by\nthe deep snowdrifts and others because they hibernate. Among these are\npikas, ground squirrels, woodrats, chipmunks, and many species of mice.\nIn summer, the marten also takes eggs and young of ground-nesting birds.\nIn the trees are found other nests, not excepting those of the\nwoodpecker, into which the marten inserts its forepaw and comes out not\nonly with young birds, but often the adult as well. Martens are known to\neat quantities of the larger insects and, since they are fond of fruits\nand berries when raised in captivity, there is little doubt that they\nindulge in these delicacies in the wild.\nWinter diet consists of the spruce squirrel, augmented by such other\nsmall creatures as may be abroad during cold weather. Though it would\nseem that the marten might suffer from the curtailment of its lavish\nsummer menu, the opposite is the case. They remain fat and healthy under\nweather conditions that would seriously hamper most other predators. To\na large extent, this ability to survive is due to the untiring\nperseverance and great skill with which they hunt. In addition, few\ncreatures have been endowed with so many adaptations with which to\nwithstand the long, cold winter.\n    [Illustration: marten]\nIt will be apparent, even to the casual observer, that the marten is\nmost precisely evolved to meet the frigid conditions imposed by its\nboreal habitat. The long, fine-haired winter coat is extremely warm and\ndoes not mat with snow or frost. With such an insulated covering any\nhollow log or woodpecker\u2019s nest will do as a resting place. Snow is the\nleast of the marten\u2019s troubles; not only does it stay warm among the\ndrifts, but travels across them with ease on its \u201cbuilt-in\u201d hair\nsnowshoes, which also keep the toe pads warm. The midwinter track of a\nmarten is rather confusing, as it shows no definite toe marks, but is a\nblurry outline in soft snow, and on harder snow scarcely registers at\nall. However, if it is remembered that this animal travels much like a\nweasel, that is, it jumps instead of walking, the larger prints will\nserve to identify it as a marten.\nInteresting as the physical adaptations of the marten may be, the\nresponse of its life history to the pressures of a long winter are no\nless fascinating. As has been stressed, the marten is a solitary and\nmore or less nomadic animal. Apparently the only time of the year that\nis favorable for breeding is during the summer, as this is the only time\nwhen adults of the two sexes are commonly found together. This starts a\nreproductive cycle which, while not too uncommon, is unusual enough to\nexcite one\u2019s interest. For the following information, I am indebted to\nJames Campbell of Hope, Idaho, who live-trapped and raised many of these\ninteresting animals years ago when knowledge concerning them was\nrelatively meager.\nBox traps were used to take the marten during the middle of the winter,\nwhen snow lay from 15 to 25 feet deep along the trap lines. This was at\nan elevation of up to 6,500 feet in the panhandle of northern Idaho. As\na sprung trap was approached, the outraged captive could be heard\ngrowling its resentment and struggling to escape. A flour sack would be\nplaced around the entrance and the door opened. The marten, apparently\nmistaking the white glare for snow, invariably would leap out into the\nsack. Great care was necessary at this point, for the marten was usually\nwet with perspiration from its struggles within the box trap, and if\nallowed to chill would quickly die from exposure. The sack was placed\nwithin several others and the bundle placed in a pack-sack and carried\ndown the mountain, where the marten was cooled gradually in the house,\nthen put in the outdoor pens. Here they soon became so tame that they\nwould readily accept food from the hand, never becoming treacherous like\ntheir unpredictable cousins, the mink. They loved fruit and berries, and\nwere especially fond of chocolate candy.\nEarly in the venture, it was observed that winter-caught females were\ngiving birth to young in April. Further observation revealed that\nbreeding took place from the early part of July into late August, but\nthat no matter when breeding was accomplished the young would be born in\nApril. The first signs of pregnancy, however, would not be apparent\nuntil about 50 days before birth of the young. This indicates that, like\nmost of the hibernating bats, breeding takes place in one season, but\nthe fertilized ova remain quiescent and do not begin to develop until\nconditions are propitious for the birth of the young. This also insures\narrival of the little ones quite early in the season, so that they may\nenter the following winter fully grown. The number of young varies from\nthree to five, usually the smaller number.\nNo description of the marten would be complete without mention of its\ntremendous vitality. In trees it is superior to the squirrel, especially\nin long, arching leaps, which it makes from one lofty perch to another.\nIn winter time it will often leap from the trees into soft snowdrifts,\nseemingly for the sheer thrill of the sport. It is not uncommon for\nmartens to burrow through snowdrifts for some distance apparently in\nsearch of rodents. I have found that a marten, startled in the forest,\nis not usually too afraid of its arch enemy, man. At first it will run\naway but, if pursued too hotly, will come to bay on a low limb and put\non a great display of hissing and growling while baring its sharp, white\nteeth. It is not improbable that if it were pressed further it might\nattack its tormenter.\n            _Lutra canadensis_ (Latin: otter ... of Canada)\nRange: Most of North America south to central Arizona and New Mexico in\nthe Southwest, and south to the Gulf of Mexico in the east.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: Along and in fresh water streams and lakes.\nDescription: A short-legged, stream-lined creature with a thick tapered\ntail, usually seen in the water. Total length 3 to 4 feet. Tail 12 to 17\ninches. Weight up to 20 pounds. Color mostly a rich, dark brown with a\nsilvery sheen on the underparts. The throat and chest are lighter than\nthe rest of the body. The otter is well adapted to aquatic life, having\na long, round body and short, muscular legs. All four feet are webbed.\nThe head is long and round, with short ears. Long, stiff whiskers stand\nout near the rather thick nose. The tail is thick at the base, and the\nbody literally tapers off into the tail, increasing the general\n\u201ctorpedo\u201d effect.\n    [Illustration: river otter]\nThe otter, never plentiful in the Southwest, has become extremely rare\nin recent years. This is due in large part to its highly specialized\nhabits, coupled with an inability to compete with man in the use of the\nfew fresh water streams and lakes in the desert mountains. Yet, it has\nbeen recorded often enough in the past decade to warrant the hope that\nwith careful management and complete protection it might increase in\nnumbers. This is much to be desired because the otter is unique in\nseveral respects among our native mammals. This mild-mannered member of\nthe weasel family lacks many of the fierce and blood-thirsty habits of\nits more ferocious relatives. It is, instead, gentle, even playful.\nOutstanding among these characteristics is the otter\u2019s habit of building\nslides. These are probably nothing more or less than a refinement of the\nway otters travel through the tules and slippery mud flats, in which\nthey spend much of their time hunting crayfish and small amphibians. The\nremarkable thing about the slides is that they seem to be built for one\nspecific purpose, that of sport, an activity which ordinarily is one of\nthe least important to most mammals. In soft or muddy places, even in\nsoft snow, the otter slides along on its chest with head held high and\nforelegs trailing alongside the body. Motive power is furnished by\nthrusts of the hind legs. Excessive wear on the underparts is reduced by\nmany coarse, close-set overhairs which seem to have been developed for\nthis very purpose. The slide itself is only a narrow groove, 12 to 20\ninches wide, that is worn down a steep bank to the water\u2019s edge. The wet\nbodies of the otters make it smooth and slippery, and soon they are able\nto shoot down it with only an occasional helping kick of the hind feet.\nThis fascinating game may go on for hours on end. The descent often is\nfollowed by a general rough and tumble in the \u201cswimming hole.\u201d There the\naction is almost too fast for the eye to follow, because few mammals can\nmatch the otter for grace and speed in the water.\nAquatic as the otter is, it does not care to be always wet, and this\nleads to another curious institution in its way of life. Near the slide,\nand usually at several other places along the waterway which is\nfrequented by a family of these delightful creatures, will be found\nareas several feet in diameter, located among dry tules or in tall\ngrass, where the animals roll and thus dry themselves. These seem also\nto be community news centers, because usually near such areas are found\nthe scent \u201cposts,\u201d where otters deposit scent from the glands common to\nall members of the weasel family. In otters these glands do not secrete\nthe high-potency perfume produced by those of skunks and minks.\nNevertheless, it is sufficiently \u201cloud\u201d to be identified with the otter.\nThe dens present great contrast in location and type. They are usually\nsituated near water, but one was found more than half a mile from the\nnearest stream. On the other hand, an otter will often take over the\nabandoned burrow of a bank beaver, and access to this abode must be by\nan underwater entrance. In many instances, the den is merely a nest in a\nthick clump of tules completely surrounded by water.\nThe two to four young are born in early spring. At birth they are blind,\ntoothless, and amazingly helpless in comparison with their development 6\nweeks later. At this age they begin to leave the den, and before long\nare quite at home in the water. Though the male may be in the\nneighborhood, the female will not allow him near the young until they\nare half grown. At this time, the family will begin to live together\nuntil the young are fully able to make their own way.\nOtters are cosmopolitan in their tastes; being carnivores, they will\nprey on many species. Fish is their preferred food, and in most cases\nthey capture rough fish species, these as a rule being slow and easy to\ncatch. They are fully capable of catching trout, however, should other\nsupplies fail. Otters in captivity do not thrive on fish alone, so\nevidently the great numbers of other small animals upon which they prey\nmust be necessary adjuncts to their diet. These include crayfish, frogs,\nseveral species of small mammals, and such birds and eggs as may be\navailable.\nThe presence of otters in an area is not difficult to detect. A slide,\n\u201crolling place,\u201d or characteristic web-toed track are all sure\nindications that this interesting animal is a neighbor. Cultivate its\nacquaintance if you can. The otter is diurnal as well as nocturnal, and\nshould you be so fortunate as to see this happy animal coast down his\nslippery slide, I am sure you will get as big a thrill from it as he\ndoes.\n         _Mustela vison_ (Latin: weasel ... forceful, powerful)\nRange: The range of the mink is strikingly similar to that of the otter,\nthat is, it embraces most of northern North America, extending southward\ninto southwestern United States in the west, and to the Gulf of Mexico\nin the east.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: This semi-aquatic animal seldom is found far from fresh water\nstreams or ponds.\nDescription: The mink is about as long as an average house cat, but is\nmuch more streamlined in appearance. Total length for males 20 to 26\ninches. Tail 7 to 9 inches. Weight up to 2\u00bc pounds. Females will average\nalmost one-third smaller. Color is dark brown over most of the body,\nshading to lighter brown on the sides and darkening along the tail to a\nblack tip. There are usually a few irregular white spots on chest and\nbelly. The body is long, and round, tapering into the long, round neck.\nThe head is small with rather a triangular face, small ears, and dark,\nbeady eyes. The legs are short and, as would be expected on an aquatic\nanimal, the feet are webbed, but in this case only the bases of the toes\nare joined by the webs. The underfur is thick and fine, the guard hairs\ncoarse and conspicuously shiny. Mink will bear as many as 10 young, but\nthe average is around 5. Dens usually are in a burrow, which may or may\nnot have an underwater entrance.\nThe presence of mink in any given area is usually quite easily\ndetermined by scouting sand bars and mud flats along the water\u2019s edge.\nThe tracks are quite distinctive, especially in softer mud, because here\nthe animal spreads its toes to keep from sinking, and in places the\noutlines of the partially webbed toes become clearly apparent. In most\ncases if tracks are at all discernible, marks of the claws are\nconspicuous. The occurrence of mink away from water can not be\nconsidered normal, because this creature ranks second only to the otter,\namong southwestern carnivores, in its preference for an aquatic life.\nExceptions do occur, however; mink have been encountered crossing\nmountain ranges where they might be many miles from the closest\nwatercourse. It is thought that these infrequent cases may be migrations\nfrom unfavorable areas, or that such a trip may be undertaken in search\nof a mate.\nMuch of the mink\u2019s dependence on water stems from its diet. Some of its\npreferred foods are fish, crayfish, and frogs, none of which are more\nadept in the water than the mink. Other food items, taken whenever\ncircumstances permit, are birds and eggs and rodents. It is interesting\nto note that the muskrat is no match for the agile mink, and that one of\nthese fierce carnivores moving into an area has resulted in the\nextermination of a whole colony of muskrats. Cottontails, too, are\nunable to cope with the tactics of the mink, although their reproductive\nproclivities usually keep their numbers well ahead of such inroads. Even\nwith this wide variety of prey and its expertness at hunting, the mink\nis so voracious that in some areas it has been estimated 100 acres are\nonly enough to support one adult. The continual hunt for food may be the\nmotivation for another interesting habit of the mink which is seldom\nfound among other carnivores.\nMany beasts of prey will hide or bury a kill and come back to it later\nfor several more meals. In fact the wolverine, one of the mink\u2019s close\nrelatives, will do this. However, the mink actually collects a\nconsiderable store of food during periods of good hunting and caches it\naway against time of need. Caches will often consist of larger animals,\nsuch as muskrats and ducks, laid neatly away under an overhanging bank.\nSince these stores are highly perishable, this is mostly a cold weather\npractice. The mink is not normally a carrion eater.\nA characteristic of the weasel family is the occurrence of anal glands\nwhich secrete a liquid having a powerful odor. The skunks are best known\nin this respect. In my opinion the mink and weasel both release an odor\nwhich, by comparison, makes the skunk\u2019s \u201calmost nice.\u201d The one saving\ngrace in their case is that the odor soon evaporates, while that\nreleased by the skunks retains its strength for a long time, and regains\nmuch of the original potency with every rain. Like the skunks, these\nanimals use the disagreeable odor as a defensive weapon. It no doubt has\nother uses too, such as identifying the individual and its territory to\nother animals of the same species.\nConsidering the weasel family as a group, it becomes apparent that here\nis a rather large number of species, all closely related, yet having\nwidely divergent habits. For instance, the marten is as much at home in\ntrees as is the squirrel; the otter can catch fish with ease; and the\nbadger is able to dig better than even the ground squirrels and spends\nmuch of its life underground. In the same way, the group varies widely\nin temperament. At one end of the scale stands the wolverine, surly and\ndefiant; at the other are the marten and otter, playful and even\naffectionate. The mink might be classified as nervous and irritable.\nThere seems in its temperament to be an actual blood lust. When the mood\nis upon it, it will continue to kill even when a human is close by. I\nhave seen a mink continue to slaughter a flock of ducks even as I was\nattempting to drive it away. A mink cornered is a creature to reckon\nwith; there are few animals its size that are so courageous.\n    [Illustration: mink]\nAs might be suspected, such wildly fierce creatures make poor parents.\nThe females sometimes desert the young while they are still too small to\nmake their own way. Yet this, after all, is but a human criticism. Who\nis to condemn an animal which Nature has allowed to exist under\nconditions that would have eliminated a more amicable species?\n                      Short-tailed weasel (ermine)\n       _Mustela erminea_ (Latin: weasel ... from the fur ermine)\nRange: From northern Greenland south to northern United States with one\nextension south into Utah, Colorado, and New Mexico. To be expected in\nnorthern Arizona.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: Generally found in forests of the Transition Life Zone and\nhigher. It will often be found in the Arctic Zone.\nDescription: A tiny predator with long body and short legs. Total length\nfrom 7 to 13 inches. Tail 2 to 4 inches. Weight 1\u00bd to 3\u2154 ounces. This\nwide range in statistics is from comparing the smallest females with the\nlargest males. Males consistently average from one-fifth to one-fourth\nlarger than females. Summer color is dark brown with white underparts\nand feet. There is a white line down the insides of the hind legs\nconnecting the white of the feet with that of the belly. The tip of the\ntail is black. Winter coat is all white with the exception of the black\ntail tip. The body is long and supple, legs are short, the neck long and\nround. The head is small with rather large, bulging dark eyes. The ears\nare large for a creature of this size. Breeding dens are usually in the\nground under large rocks or among the roots under a tree. Average number\nof young is thought to be about four.\nI have a special affection for this tiny predator which, because of its\nfearlessness, has given me many a glimpse into its private life which\nwould not have been possible in the case of a larger or more timid\ncreature. Let no one underestimate the courage of this small mustelid\nwhich, if left alone, will continue its normal activities even under the\nclose scrutiny of an observer, but if molested will often turn on its\ntormenter with a fury matched by few large animals. It shares these\ncharacteristics with two other relatives of the United States: the\nlongtailed weasel (_Mustela frenata_), which is also found in the\nSouthwest, and the least weasel (_Mustela rixosa_), which inhabits part\nof the northern United States, Canada, and Alaska. The short-tailed\nweasel will not be mistaken for either of the other species, since the\nleast weasel has no black tip on the tail and the long-tailed weasel has\na tail about one-third of its body length. The tail of the short-tailed\nweasel is only about one-fourth of its body length, and this species is\nconsiderably smaller than the long-tailed weasel.\nShort-tailed weasels are the smallest carnivores in the Southwest. In\nfact, except for the least weasel, they are the smallest on the North\nAmerican Continent. Despite its size, _Mustela erminea_ is so hardy it\nranges to the northernmost point of land in the Northern Hemisphere.\nThis, the north coast of Greenland, is but a few degrees from the North\nPole. The European form, not specifically distinct from ours, is equally\nhardy. It, too, inhabits not only the more temperate zones, but\npenetrates far north of the Arctic Circle wherever land is found. In our\nSouthwest they are sometimes encountered at low elevations but more\noften in the higher mountains. Here they go through the winter change of\ncolor, but not so regularly nor so completely as in the far north.\nThe term \u201cermine\u201d refers to this animal\u2019s fur in the winter pelage. This\nis the royal ermine, reserved in days past for the use of the\naristocracy. At its best this fur is a spotless white, except for the\nsharply contrasting black tail tip. In heraldry the pure white had\nsymbolic significance, but to the weasel it has more mundane uses. These\nare as camouflage, both in pursuing prey and in avoiding attacks of\nenemies. In the far north this seasonal change of garb is mandatory and\ncomplete, but in the mild (by comparison) climate of our southwestern\nmountains the situation is somewhat altered. Here the creature can\ndescend to lower elevations as winter comes on and, if it wishes, evade\nmost of the severe weather. Under conditions which to some extent are\nleft to its own choice, the degree of color change varies greatly. In\nsnowy areas on higher peaks it will change to true ermine; lower down it\nprobably will turn to a light yellow, and below snowline the animal will\nretain the same brown above and white below that it wears all summer.\n    [Illustration: short-tailed weasel]\nLike most other members of the weasel family, these small mustelids are\nadmirably adapted to do their part in Nature. Their size permits them to\nenter the homes of all but the very smallest rodents. Their strength and\nsuppleness combined with ferocity enables them to subdue animals several\ntimes as large. Surprisingly enough, though well able to climb, they do\nnot eat many birds. Most of their prey is rodents. Small mice seem to be\npreferred, though chipmunks, ground squirrels, and woodrats also are\ntaken. Pikas and small rabbits fall prey to these mighty mites, and\nthere are many recorded cases of snakes being killed by them. Like the\nmink, short-tailed weasels will gather a cache of food when hunting is\ngood. For their size they have a tremendous appetite; it has been\nestimated that one will eat half of its own weight in food every 24\nhours. From this it will be seen that they can live only in an area\nwhere rodents are plentiful, and that they play a large part in keeping\nthese creatures under control.\nI have been privileged to see this weasel many times and under varying\ncircumstances. In all of these encounters it has seemed evident that at\nfirst the animal accepts the intrusion of man not so much as an enemy,\nbut rather as a competitor. Under these condition it will continue its\nactivities and pay very little attention to the intruder. However,\nshould any hostile action be taken against it, the weasel will make its\nescape, if possible. If cornered it will savagely defend itself, and as\na last resort spray its attacker with the foul-smelling contents of the\nanal gland. Not so long lasting as the skunk\u2019s perfume, this odorous\nmist is nearly as effective while it lasts. How much better to stand\naside and watch the little predator go about its work!\nIf you are fortunate enough to be in an area where a hay meadow is being\nirrigated, you will see the meadow voles (meadow mice) being flooded out\nof their homes. A careful watch may reveal one or more short-tailed\nweasels taking their toll of these hapless refugees. You may even find a\ncache laid away during this period of good hunting. Neither pity the\nvoles nor scorn the weasel; both are only fulfilling their destinies in\nan ages-old plan.\n     _Spilogale gracilis_ (Greek: spilos, spot and gale, weasel ...\n                       gracilis, Latin: slender)\nRange: This species, together with several subspecies, is the common\nspotted skunk of the Southwest. It has a \u201cspotty\u201d distribution over the\nwhole of the four-State area with which this book is concerned.\nHabitat: Common in most situations which offer suitable environment from\nnear sea level, to an elevation of approximately 8,000 feet. Seldom\nencountered above timberline. These skunks normally live in burrows in\nthe ground, but are not averse to taking up residence under buildings or\nin the walls or attics of frame houses.\nDescription: A small, nocturnal, black and white animal about the size\nof an average grey tree squirrel. Total length about 16 inches, of which\n6 inches is taken up by the tail. One description of the color pattern\nwould be to call it marbled. The head usually has a prominent white spot\nbetween the eyes, with several smaller spots on the sides of the face.\nThe forequarters are marked with four lateral, irregular white stripes\nwhich reach to mid body. The rump is variously blotched with white. Tail\nvery bushy and about half white and half black. Eyes dark in color, ears\nsmall. Feet small but plantigrade as in the larger species of skunks.\nYoung number three to six, born in early summer.\nAlthough this little animal has a slight heaviness of the hind quarters,\nreminiscent of the larger skunks, it is indeed, as both generic and\nspecific names suggest, much more like a weasel. This impression is\nheightened by its quick movements and a bright-eyed attention to details\nwhich its larger relatives would hardly notice. It lacks the wild and\nfierce disposition of the weasels however, and becomes a charming and\nconfiding nocturnal visitor if properly encouraged. Remember though that\nthis acquaintance can be no more than an armed truce, and that should\nthe articles of Formal Conduct be violated it can be terminated at a\nmoment\u2019s notice.\nProbably no nocturnal mammal in the Southwest is more likely to be\nencountered than this little skunk. How many of my readers can recall\ndrifting up from an uneasy sleep to the sibilant whisper of, \u201cthere\u2019s\nsomething in the tent.\u201d While eyes strain to pierce the darkness, faint\npatterings on the floor and urgent scratching at the grub box indicate\nthat there is indeed \u201csomething in the tent.\u201d Turning over with the\nutmost care, while the joints of the cot loudly complain, the flashlight\nunder the pillow is finally extricated. Surely the creature has been\nfrightened away, but no, the rattlings continue\u2014in the dishes now. The\nbrilliant white beam stabs in that direction. Red eyes stare back,\ninterested perhaps, but unafraid. The rounded ball of black and white\nfluff waits motionless to see if any harm is intended. When none is\noffered, his highness makes his way to the door and ambles away into the\nenveloping darkness. In the morning tiny squirrel-like tracks in the\ndust show that _Spilogale_ has paid a nocturnal call. These, and perhaps\nthe contents missing from the butter and bacon grease containers,\nbecause this little animal dearly loves animal fats. These are the foods\nwhich attract these animals to camp sites in such numbers that they\nfrequently become a nuisance.\nIn the wild, spotted skunks live largely on insects. These are taken not\nonly in the adult form but also in great numbers in the larval stage, as\nis shown by the well-winnowed debris under clumps of cactus and around\nthe bases of shrubs and trees. In these searches for insects small prey\nof other kinds is captured as circumstances permit. Worms and scorpions\nas well as small rodents are not refused. More rarely a ground-nesting\nbird may be disturbed and the eggs or young taken. In rural communities\nhen roosts are sometimes raided too but in the main the spotted skunk\nshould be considered beneficial, with control of grasshoppers and\nbeetles it\u2019s chief function.\nLike most predators, this member of the weasel family has few natural\nenemies. This is not surprising; few animals willingly take a chance on\nattacking this doughty little warrior, which sometimes does a handstand\nthe better to spray it\u2019s enemies. These tactics avail nothing against\nthe steely monsters that rush up and down our highways in the dead of\nnight. In the space of 50 years the automobile has developed into the\nmost successful enemy of the spotted skunk. Yet even in death on the\nhighway the skunk has it\u2019s revenge. Few will pass the spot for many a\nday without paying unwilling tribute to this malodorous legacy.\n         _Mephitis mephitis_ (Latin: a pestilential exhalation)\nRange: The southern half of Canada, the whole of the United States, and\nthe northern half of Mexico.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: All life zones up to timberline in places which have a\nsufficient food supply and proper cover.\nDescription: This is the \u201cwood kitty,\u201d approached with due respect by\nall but the most naive. About the size of a house cat. Total length 22\nto 30 inches. Tail 8 to 15 inches. Weight 6 to 10 pounds. Body color is\nblack, with black tail except for the tip, which is commonly white.\nThere are usually two white stripes on the back joining in a \u201cV\u201d at the\nback of the head and a white stripe down the front of the face. The head\nis small with a rather pointed nose, small black eyes, and small ears.\nFront legs are short, and the small feet are tipped with stout claws.\nHind legs are longer and appreciably more of the large hind feet touch\nthe ground. The tail is quite long and extremely bushy. It is carried in\na downward curve when traveling; if its owner is startled or angry, it\nis held straight up with the hairs flared out. Dens of the striped skunk\nare usually in an underground burrow, but dens in hollow logs have been\nrecorded. The usual number of young average from four to six. The family\nremains together for the greater part of a year before the young leave\nto make their own way.\nThere are four species of skunks in the Southwest, but the observer in\nthe higher country will see only two. These are the striped and the\nspotted. They are distinguished by two characteristics: first, the\nstriped skunk is easily double the size of the spotted skunk; and,\nsecond, the spotted has a pattern of broken stripes and spots of white,\nwhereas the larger animal has definitely long, continuous white stripes\nalong sides or back. Both species have the same method of defense, but\nthe odor of the smaller skunk is said to be somewhat less pungent and\ndissipates sooner than that of the striped. To the recipient of either\nbarrage this has the same consolation as if he were given a choice\nbetween being hit by the H bomb or the A bomb. In the event of a direct\nstrike it makes little difference.\nShould the reader be involved in an encounter with one of these\nmalodorous creatures, there are many remedies prescribed but few giving\nany great measure of relief. If the skin is washed with a weak solution\nof acid such as lemon or tomato juice and then scrubbed thoroughly with\nsoap and water, much of the odor will disappear. Clothes can be given\nthe same treatment, but usually it is cheaper and easier to burn them\nand charge the cost to experience. Grandpa said to bury scented clothes\nin damp earth. Perhaps in time this will do the trick; I contend they\nare better left there.\nSo much misinformation exists about the skunk\u2019s defensive mechanism and\nthe manner in which it is employed that brief explanation may not be\namiss. The scent is a fluid stored in two glands located near the base\nof the tail. These glands are embedded in a mass of contractile muscle,\nand each has a duct which connects with a tiny spray nozzle that can be\nprotruded from the anus. When danger threatens the tail is lifted, the\nnozzles aimed at the enemy, and the contraction of the muscles around\nthe glands forces out a spray of fine droplets which may carry as far as\n15 feet. The result is usually effective and lasting. Contrary to\npopular belief, the odor is distressing to the skunk as well as to its\nenemy. The tail is kept out of the way if possible, since its plumey\ndepths would hold the scent for a long time.\n    [Illustration: striped skunk]\nSkunks of different species will use this defensive weapon against each\nother. Whether individuals of the same species use it in their fights\ntogether is not known. In situations involving humans the skunk will try\nto bluff the enemy if possible. This consists of stamping the front\nfeet, of short runs at the intruder, and finally of hoisting the tail\nand aiming the \u201cguns.\u201d If a skunk is approached deliberately and if\nquick movements are avoided, it is surprising what liberties may be\ntaken before it will resort to scent. On the other hand, should it be\ntaken by surprise or should it be physically hurt, retaliation is swift\nand certain. In all cases where skunks are encountered at close range,\nremember that this little animal is one of the most independent\ncreatures on earth, that this nonchalance stems from a supreme\nconfidence in its defensive powers, and that if left alone or at least\ntreated with consideration it will go on its way as soon as possible.\nThis independent attitude inherent in all skunks probably has much to do\nwith the happy-go-lucky life that the young family lives. About\nmidsummer when the young are able to leave the burrow, the mother often\nwill take them for a stroll early in the afternoon. As she walks,\noblivious to danger, the young play along behind her, sometimes a ball\nof struggling little bodies with now and then a fluffy tail breaking\nfree and again all at odds in a mock show of ferocity with front feet\nstamping and flared tails held aloft. When the patient mother finds a\ntidbit on the trail, there is a concerted rush for the prize, which is\nseldom won without a struggle. All of this is excellent practice against\nthe time when they will be on their own. It is during this early age\nthat the young first learn to catch insects, items of great importance\nin skunk diet. Later frogs and small mammals will also be preyed upon.\nThe striped skunk is generally considered a hibernating animal. This is\nnot strictly true for, while it may remain inactive in its den for weeks\nat a time, the body processes do not slow down to the extent common in\ntrue hibernation. The skunk does lay on a considerable amount of fat\neach fall in preparation for this period of winter when food is scarce.\nActual retirement to a den for even a few days is rare in the Southwest,\nhowever. The mild climate makes this unnecessary, except in the highest\npart of their habitat.\n          _Euarctos americanus_ (Latin: a bear ... of America)\nRange: At present the range of the black bear in the United States is\nconfined to a narrow strip adjacent to both the Atlantic and Pacific\ncoasts, a few of the southeastern States, a narrow band in the Great\nLakes area, and the Rocky Mountain chain.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: In the Southwest, the higher mountains mostly in the Transition\nLife Zone and above.\nDescription: The black bear needs little description because through\npictures and reputation it has become well known to almost everyone. It\naverages 5 to 6 feet in total length with a tail so short as to be\ninconsequential. Height at shoulders is 2 to 3 feet. Weight 200 to 400\npounds. Color varies in the Southwest from deep, shining black through\nbrown to light cinnamon. In all color phases the nose is brown almost\nback to the eyes and there is usually a white \u201cblaze\u201d on the chest. The\nlegs are short and muscular. The feet are plantigrade, that is, the bear\nsteps on the whole foot, not just the toes. There are stout claws on all\nfour feet. The head proper is rather round, the muzzle long and pointed.\nEars are relatively small, as are the dark eyes. The young number from\none to four, with twins being very common. They are born while the\nmother is still in winter quarters. When the weather moderates to a\npoint where she can leave, the cubs are large enough to follow her.\nBears are probably the most popular of our wild creatures to those who\nvisit the National Park Service areas. Why this should be is hard to\nsay. Perhaps it dates back to the nursery tale of the three bears,\nfamiliar to all of us from the time we were able to walk. Perhaps too it\nstems from the easy familiarity with which these roadside bandits hail\nthe tourist in hopes of a handout. At any rate, these seemingly friendly\nclowns have become endeared to the hearts of the American public. This\nis regrettable because actually in the Park Service areas these big\ncarnivores are the most dangerous of all animals. Native intelligence\nindicates to the bears that food may be had merely by standing up\nalongside the road when a car stops. More complicated routines are soon\nlearned to wheedle bigger and better handouts. At this professional\nlevel, a substantial reward is expected when Bruin has \u201csung for his\nsupper,\u201d and should none be forthcoming, trouble is apt to ensue. This\nis but a minor annoyance to a bear, however, when compared with some of\nthe indignities dealt out to these big creatures by a thoughtless\npublic. It must be said in all fairness that anyone who teases a bear\ndeserves whatever is handed out in return. It is unfortunate that\nretribution may be in the form of serious injury or even death. Though\nthis applies mainly to the half-tame bears which roam along the highways\nin our National Parks, it is only common sense to avoid incidents with\nany bear wherever encountered. This is especially true of an old female\nwith cubs, a combination well nigh irresistible to the average\nvacationer with camera.\nIn more remote areas where bears have not had contact with man, they are\nwary to the point of timidity. Gifted with a keen sense of hearing and\nsmell which makes up for their poor eyesight, they are difficult to\napproach. Like most animals, they instinctively know that by \u201cfreezing\u201d\nthey can in most cases escape being seen. The sunburned coat of the\nbrown phase of the black bear is especially hard to spot in the\nunderbrush. However, with patience and the aid of binoculars, it should\nnot be too difficult to get a glimpse into the private life of these\nengaging creatures.\n    [Illustration: black bear]\nThough bears, because of their dentition, are classed as carnivores,\nthey might more accurately be termed omnivores. It is a matter of record\nthat the black bear will eat almost anything, either animal or\nvegetable. Nevertheless, its appetite is prodigious and demands little\nvariety, if but a few kind of foods are available. Its status as a\npredator is somewhat confused. Technically speaking, since the black\nbear preys on ground squirrels, mice and other small rodents it should\nbe classed as a predator. It will also take young deer and elk whenever\nit can, but these opportunities come rarely. Actually this bear has\nlittle direct influence on its mammal neighbors. As a scavenger it has\nconsiderable value in cleaning up the remains of kills made by other\npredators.\nSome of the small animals eaten are in almost amusing contrast with the\nhuge size of their enemy. For instance, ants are eagerly lapped up by\nmost bears, and they will literally tear old logs apart to get at these\ntoothsome morsels. Grubs are another small item which may be found\naround fallen logs and under stones. Bears are extremely fond of honey\nand will go to great lengths to get at this delicacy, which they eat\ncomb, bees, and all. Another food item which seems unusual is fish. At\nspawning time a bear will wade out into a stream and either snag a\npassing fish on its long claws or flip it out on the bank where it is\nmore easily subdued. Finally, their natural animal diet is greatly\naugmented in most Park Service areas by the scraps and bones which they\npick up on the garbage heaps. They can become a great nuisance in the\ncamping areas where, under cover of darkness, their ingenuity and great\nstrength enable them to steal many a ham and side of bacon.\nWide as this variety of animal food seems, it cannot equal the\ncosmopolitan tastes of these bears in a vegetable diet. Roots and bulbs\nof many species are dug up. Grass and browse are eaten during several\nseasons of the year; even pine needles are recorded as having been\neaten. The liking of bears for berries of all kinds is well known.\n_Arctostaphylos_, the generic name of the manzanitas, translated from\nthe Greek means \u201cbear grape.\u201d Pinyon nuts, acorns, chokecherries, and\nother stone fruits all are gathered in season. These heavy animals often\ndamage trees severely in their search for fruit. On the garbage heaps,\nwatermelon rinds and seeds, peelings of all kinds, leafy vegetables, and\ncorn cobs add to the fare. All tin cans are licked clean, and in many\ncases greasy paper and cellophane wrappings are eaten.\nThe yearly cycle of a bear\u2019s life is a study in contrasts. Much of the\nwarm part of the year is spent in search for food with which to build up\na store of fat so that the winter may be spent in inactivity. Bears\nhibernate or, more properly, retire for several months of the winter.\nThey do not fall into the deep sleep indulged by some of the rodents.\nTheirs is an uneasy sleep broken by periods of lethargy when they are\nawake but avoid any activity. By these means they conserve enough of\ntheir thick layer of fat to live out the cold weather and emerge in\nearly spring with a considerable reserve.\nHibernation takes place in late autumn, usually after the first light\nsnows. Evidently the animals have a den already located, for when they\nfeel the urge to retire they strike out across country to it. The same\nwinter quarters often will be used by one individual for several\nseasons. Dens are chosen in a variety of locations. They may be in old\nhollow logs or in the bases of fire-gutted trees. Some are in crevices\namong huge boulders, others in caves. The main concern seems to be to\nfind a place sheltered from the wind and snow. If the floor happens to\nbe covered with chips or leaves, so much the better. It usually is,\neither from air currents which bring in falling leaves or through the\nlabors of woodrats which deposit much litter in such places. The bears\ncurl up on the floor, and after the first heavy snow there is nothing to\nmark the spot. In the case of a small den, such as a cavity in the base\nof a tree, an airhole may form in the drift from the warmth of the\nanimal\u2019s respiration.\nThe cubs are born in late winter. From one to four in number, they are\nincredibly small at birth. They develop rather slowly and at the time\nthe family emerges from the den are approximately 18 inches long. The\ncubs may all be one color or some may be brown and some black. The male\nbear has no part in raising the family; indeed, he is driven from the\nscene by the irate mother, should he approach too closely. She has all\nthe responsibility for raising the family, and a busy time is assured\nwith such mischievous, carefree youngsters.\nOne of the first lessons learned by young cubs is that of obedience. The\nmother insists on compliance with her every command, and enforces her\nauthority with a heavy paw. It is fortunate the cubs are sturdily built,\nfor some of the slaps they receive in the course of an average day\u2019s\ninstruction would kill a less durable animal. The first haven of refuge\nwhen danger threatens is in the trees. A special command note and a slap\nor two sends them hustling. Now the cubs are out of the way and the\ndecks cleared for action, so to speak. The cubs will remain in the trees\nuntil the mother lets them know they may come down. This is not a time\nof boredom for the youngsters, however. Expert climbers, they carry on\nthe same games and rough play indulged on the ground, with never a fall.\nTheir confidence in the trees is amazing. It is not unusual to see a cub\nsound asleep on the end of a 20-foot branch that is bending down with\nits weight and swaying in the wind. As the months go on the cubs begin\nto lose their juvenile ways. By autumn, they have put on enough fat to\nlast the winter. They usually hibernate with the mother, since they\nremain with her for well over a year. During the following summer they\nare well able to take care of themselves, and the mother deserts them.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nIt is normal, rather than unusual, among black bears to breed only every\nother year. The youngsters usually do not breed until about three years\nold.\nNo account of this bear would be complete without mention of the\nso-called \u201cbear trees.\u201d These are trees situated at the crossroads, that\nis, near the intersections of bear trails or otherwise prominently\nlocated. When a bear encounters one, it stands up and scratches at the\nbark with its front claws as high as it can reach. Sometimes it will\nalso bite at the bark. Bears have been observed rubbing the sides of\ntheir jaws against the bark. Whether this is a way of leaving their\nscent is not known. It is thought this may be a way of communication\nwith others of the species, but this has not been definitely proven.\nMany of the trees chosen for this purpose in mountains of the Southwest\nhave been aspens. The heavy black furrows left in the white bark will\npersist until the death of the tree. Often they are the only evidence\nthat bears have ever been in the locality.\nAnother custom which will be observed very early in one\u2019s experience\nwith bears is the scratching that goes on. It may be due in part to the\npresence of ectoparasites, but the bear takes such an obvious\nsatisfaction in scratching that, one feels, this must be only\nincidental. Trees, posts, rocks, and claws are all employed for this\npurpose. Some of the smaller trees often suffer severe damage from the\ntreatment accorded them.\nMy cautious attitude toward bears is a result of early experiences with\nthem, ranging from humorous to tragic, and probably best typified by an\nincident which took place near Yellowstone Park in the late 1920s. I was\non my first trip into the Rockies at the time and hired out on a\nconstruction job at an isolated dude ranch. Horses were being used, and\ntheir supplies, including a considerable store of oats, were kept in a\nlarge tent adjacent to that in which some of the employees slept. On the\nprevious night a bear had gained access to the supply tent, torn open a\nnumber of oat sacks, and wasted more of the grain than it had eaten. The\nforeman, an old-time packer in the Park, vowed vengeance on the bear.\nThat night when he went to bed he leaned a small, double-bitted axe\nagainst the entrance to the tent. During the night I awoke as the\nforeman went out the entrance in his underwear. A partial moon shed a\nweak light over the scene and revealed the foreman entering the other\ntent with the axe in his hand. A short silence was followed by a heavy\nsplat, a tremendous grunt, and some frenzied shouts. The supply tent\nheaved violently, went down, and split open as the bear hurtled out and\nthrough the woods toward the creek. When order had been restored it\ntranspired that the foreman had stolen up to the bear, which had its\nback to him, and had struck it across the rump as hard as he could with\nthe flat of the axe. The element of surprise apparently was all in his\nfavor because the startled bear charged directly away from him into the\nfar end of the tent. Although in this instance no injuries were\nsuffered, it has always seemed that this was an extremely foolhardy\nthing to do. Although one of the most laughable happenings I have ever\nseen, it also had all the elements of a possible tragedy.\n            _Ursus horribilis_ (Latin: a bear ... horrible)\nRange: Alaska, western Canada, and in the United States confined to the\nhigh mountains of the Continental Divide as far south as northern New\nMexico.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: Except in National Park areas, grizzlies are seldom seen, since\nthey frequent only the most isolated places in the mountains; Transition\nLife Zone and higher.\nDescription: The largest carnivore in the Southwest. Easily\ndistinguished from the black bear by the prominent hump on the\nshoulders. Total length 6 to 7 feet. Tail so short as to be\nunnoticeable. Height at shoulders 3 to 3\u00bd feet. Weight 325 to 850\npounds. Color of the southwestern grizzlies is variable, ranging from\nyellowish brown to nearly black, but has a characteristic grizzled\neffect caused by the white-tipped hairs scattered through the fur. This\nis especially noticeable along the back. The grizzly, though massively\nbuilt, gives an impression of leanness. The shoulders are higher than\nthe posterior, giving the animal a streamlined appearance. The head is\nlarge and round with a square, uptilted muzzle. The legs are extremely\npowerful, the feet large and with formidable claws, those of the front\nfeet being up to 4 inches long. The young will number from one to three,\nwith two being most common. Grizzlies breed every 2 or 3 years.\nProbably no mammal in the United States is more certain soon to become\nextinct than these great bears. Many factors contribute toward this end,\nchief among them being the low reproduction rate and the rapid decrease\nof its range because of an increase in stock raising and agriculture.\nOusted from its former haunts, the species is now found chiefly in only\nthe few areas where it is rigidly protected. It seems extremely unlikely\nthat it can long survive this reduction of its once unlimited range.\nThis is the culmination of a program of destruction wrought on the\ngrizzly since penetration of the white man into the West. It but follows\nthe disappearance of other, less well known bears which lived in the\nSouthwest at that time.\nWhen the Mountain Men came into the West in the period from 1800 to 1850\nthey found a huge, light-colored bear roaming the foothills of the\ndesert country. For want of a better name they called it the \u201cgray\nbear.\u201d From the accounts of that time it is now assumed that it was a\ngrizzly; at any rate, it was said to have been extremely ferocious, a\ntrait which led to its downfall. In the space of about 70 years this\nanimal was discovered, hunted and exterminated, all without a specimen\nof any kind being preserved. Today not a trace of this big predator\nremains. Its fate illustrates the usual result of contact between a\ndangerous, highly specialized animal and man. The question which arises\nis, should any group of men ever be allowed such control over a\nwilderness that they are able to exterminate the fauna and flora to the\ndetriment of succeeding generations? The answer seems obvious if we\nconsider that \u201cwe but hold these things in trust.\u201d\n    [Illustration: grizzly bear]\nMany species of the grizzly are recognized by taxonomists, but few are\nalive today. In the United States only New Mexico, Colorado, Utah,\nWyoming, Montana, and Idaho still have some of these big animals. In\nsome other western States they have but recently become extinct.\nCalifornia is thought to have lost its last grizzly in 1925. The few\nsurvivors are probably all of the species _horribilis_. Since grizzly\ncountry is also black bear country, the layman may become confused in\nidentifying the two species. A few important differences make\nidentification easy.\nThe first and most conspicuous field mark is the prominent shoulder hump\nof the grizzly. The male black bear will sometimes with age develop a\nshoulder hump, but it cannot compare with that of the grizzly. Second,\nthe grizzly has what has been described as a \u201cdish\u201d face; that is, a\nconcavity in the general shape of the front of the face, whereas the\nblack bear develops a definite \u201cRoman\u201d nose. Third, the claws of the\ngrizzly are twice as long as those of the black bear; this is most\nnoticeable in the tracks. If one is close enough to see this\ncharacteristic in the field, he probably is too close for safety!\nLastly, the attitude of the two species toward each other when they meet\non common ground is characteristic. As a rule, the approach of a grizzly\nto a garbage dump is enough to put all black bears to flight. There is\nno intermingling of the two species; the grizzly is the master and the\nblack bear will not challenge his authority.\nIn most of its habits the grizzly resembles the black bear. It is\nomnivorous to the same degree, but somewhat more predatory. It also goes\ninto hibernation for the winter, and the cubs are born during this\ninactive period. They receive the same rigorous training as that\naccorded their black cousins, and like them, are able to climb into the\ntrees and out of harm\u2019s way. As they grow older, this ability leaves\nthem with the growing of the long claws, and adult grizzlies are\nsupposed to be unable to climb. In one respect the grizzly differs from\nnot only the black bear but from most other native mammals. It has never\nlearned to fear man to the same degree that other creatures have.\nWhether the grizzly\u2019s belligerent attitude stems from fear or contempt\nis a moot question. The important point to remember is that a grizzly\nshould be avoided at all times. Injuries suffered by humans in their\ncontacts with black bears are usually accidental rather than the result\nof deliberate assault by the animal. Grizzlies have been known to charge\nwithout other provocation than trespass on what they consider their\nterritory. Surely the public can afford to humor this irascible giant. A\nlittle consideration for its irritable nature is not too great a price\nto pay for its continued existence in our rapidly dwindling numbers of\nlarge carnivores.\n             _Sorex vagrans_ (Latin: a shrew ... wandering)\nRange: Confined to mountains of western United States and Canada, and\nnorthern and southern Mexico.\n    [Illustration: Habitat map]\nHabitat: Moist places in forests of the Transition Life Zones and\nhigher.\nDescription: A tiny creature with a long nose. Total length 4 to 5\ninches. Tail 1\u00bd to 2 inches. Color reddish brown to black above with\nsides drab and lightening to gray below. Tail indistinctly bi-color\nexcept for the last half which is dark all the way around. Head round\nand narrowing to a long, pointed, somewhat flexible nose. Long whiskers\nare found along the sides of the upper jaw. Eyes and ears so small as to\nbe difficult to see. Little is known of breeding habits of the shrews.\nThe vagrant shrew is said to breed at any time of year and to have from\n5 to 11 young in a litter.\nShrews are the smallest American mammals. Their size and secretive\nhabits combine to make them among the least known of native animals.\nThey are classed as insectivores, although they eat other small mammals\nas well as insects. They may be distinguished from mice by their\nbicuspid incisors and modified canine teeth. Another difference is that\nshrews have five toes, in contrast to the four-toed feet of mice.\n    [Illustration: vagrant shrew]\nAs far as is known at present, certain species of shrews are the only\npoisonous mammals. The big short-tailed shrew (eastern United States)\nhas a toxic substance in its saliva which helps subdue some of the\nanimals it captures. It is thought that some western species also have\nthis peculiarity. Though shrews are among the tiniest animals known,\nthey are not unduly persecuted by larger predators. This is thought to\nbe partly because of certain glands on the shrew\u2019s body which give it an\noffensive odor.\nAn outstanding characteristic of shrews is their need for a constant\nsupply of food. Because all small animals lose heat quickly, they must\neat almost constantly to replace this loss. Some species will eat their\nown weight in food as often as every 3 hours. An outstanding exception\nis the water shrew, which can do without food for as long as 2 days\nwithout starving to death. Since most shrews live in or near the water,\nthey find ample food in the insects, spiders, minnows, and small mammals\nwhich live in moist locations. The group is as ferocious as it is\nvoracious. Most shrews do not hesitate to attack animals outweighing\nthem several times. It has been said that if shrews were as big as\nsquirrels they probably would even attack man.\nIn the mountains of Utah, Colorado, and northern New Mexico the northern\nwater shrew (_Sorex palustris_) may be encountered. It is somewhat\nlarger than the vagrant shrew and will not be seen away from water. Gray\nbelow and black above, it is wonderfully camouflaged, whether in water\nor on land. It, like other shrews, has long whiskers known as vibrissae.\nLand shrews use these whiskers as tactile organs to help them follow the\ndark maze of their runways. Water shrews are thought to use them as\nsense organs in place of eyes to pursue the minnows, tadpoles, and water\nbugs they eat. Actually, the water shrew resembles a large water bug as\nit darts about below the surface surrounded by the silvery bubbles of\nair imprisoned in its fine fur.\n        Order _Chiroptera_ (Latin: chir, hand, and optera, wing)\nThe special treatment accorded bats in this book is not given them by\nchoice. It results from an inability to so clearly describe any one or\ntwo species chosen that the layman might be able to distinguish these\nfrom their numerous and equally interesting relatives. When one\nconsiders that numerically bats are thought to compare favorably with\nbirds, that there are a great number of species divided into many\ngenera, and that the four-State area with which we are concerned is\ninvaded, so to speak, by eastern, northern, western and Mexican species\nbesides having several of its own, it soon becomes apparent that this\ngroup can be described here only in the most general way. If some of the\npopular superstitions about bats are contradicted here, it is to be\nhoped the reader will find the facts no less interesting.\nThe adaptation for which bats are best known is their ability to fly.\nThis specialized talent is shared by no other type of mammal. It is made\npossible by considerable modification of several structures of the body,\nthat of the forelimbs being the most extreme. The bones of both the\nupper and lower forelegs are considerably lengthened, but cannot compare\nwith the extreme elongation of the digits. The clawlike protuberance\nfrom the front of the wing corresponds to the thumb. The wing membrane\nstretched across the \u201cfingers\u201d is attached to the side of the body and\nto the hindlegs as far as the ankle. Most bats have another wing\nmembrane, called the interfemoral membrane, which joins both hind legs,\nand in many species it also embraces the tail. The wing membranes look\nand feel somewhat like thin leather. Running through them is an\nintricate system of blood vessels. These not only supply nourishment to\nthe membrane but also act as a radiator in cooling the blood stream\nduring the strenuous physical labor involved in flight. The principles\nof flight are similar to those used by birds; that is, the wings are\npartially folded on the upstroke and fully extended during the down\nbeat. This maneuver produces a rustling sound that is clearly audible in\nthe quiet of a cave. In fact, if thousands of bats are disturbed at the\nsame time it becomes a low roar.\nThe fact that bats are nocturnal, and at the same time lead an aerial\nlife which necessitates flying through labyrinths plunged in total\ndarkness, has been the cause of much research as to the means by which\nthey can do this. It is now definitely known that they depend on a sonar\nsystem where, by emitting shrill cries, they are guided by the echoes\nrebounding from nearby objects. These \u201csqueaks\u201d range within a frequency\nof from 25,000 to 75,000 vibrations per second, which is too high for\nthe human ear to register. The sounds are uttered at rates from about 10\nper second when the bat is at rest to as many as 60 per second when it\nis in flight and surrounded by the many obstacles to be found in a cave.\nFantastic as this performance seems, it is matched by a theory that tiny\nmuscles close the bat\u2019s ears to each squeak and open them again to hear\nonly the echo.\nThe response of their vocal and hearing structure to this specialized\nuse is truly amazing. There are no more unique faces in the mammal\nkingdom than those of the bats. Most bats have enormous ears with ridged\nand channeled interiors that probably have much to do with amplifying\nfaint sounds. Set in front of the ear is a narrow, upright protuberance\nknown as the tragus. Farther down the face, in the region of the nose,\nare other strangely shaped skin structures including the \u201cnose leaf.\u201d As\nyet the functions of these appendages are not entirely known, but it is\nsuspected that at least part of their purpose is to beam the squeaks\nalong a definite line and thus help orient the bat with its\nsurroundings. With such an efficient system to guide it, the bat has\nsmall need for eyes. The expression \u201cblind as a bat\u201d is misleading,\nhowever, because most bats, in spite of their relatively small eyes, can\nsee rather well.\nSince most southwestern bats are insectivorous, with the exception of a\nvery few species along the Mexican border which are considered fruit\neaters, the question arises as to how they exist during the winter\nmonths when insects are not to be found. There are two common methods by\nwhich animals avoid such a lean period: by migration and by hibernation.\nBats employ both. Some species are thought to fly as far south as\nCentral America. Others group together in caves and hang in a deep\ntorpor all winter. In this state of inactivity their body temperatures\nmay fall to within one degree of their surroundings, and their rate of\nmetabolism sometimes falls to one-eighteenth of that during active\nperiods. As a rule, bats prefer a cool place for hibernation, because\nthe cooler the temperature the slower the rate of metabolism. Body\ntemperatures as low as 33.5\u00b0 F. have been recorded in hibernating bats.\nThe temperature must not fall below freezing, or the animals will\nperish. During this period of inactivity bats have been known to lose up\nto one-third of their weight.\nBecause of their secretive habits and nocturnal periods of activity,\nbats have few enemies other than man that are capable of making any\nserious inroads on their numbers. Consequently the birth rate is quite\nlow in most species. Many have no more than one young each year; and the\nred bat, which bears up to four young, seems to be the most prolific in\nthe United States. There is great variety in the methods by which\ndifferent species care for the young. Some mothers leave the babies\nhanging to the roof of the cave while they go on their nightly search\nfor food; others carry the young clinging tightly to their fur. The\nyoung mature quickly. They are usually able to fly within a month after\nthey are born.\nDespite much recent scientific study, bats are still among our least\nknown creatures. Their insectivorous diet surely makes them of great\nimportance to man. Beyond this, their immense numbers indicate that\necologically they must have tremendous influence on any area in which\nthey live.\nBailey, Vernon\n    1931. _Mammals of New Mexico._ North American Fauna, No. 53,\n        Washington, D. C., U. S. Department of Agriculture, Bureau of\n        Biological Survey.\nBarnes, Claude T.\n    1927. _Utah Mammals._ Salt Lake City, The University of Utah.\nBurt, William Henry and Grossenheider, Richard Philip\n    1952. _A Field Guide to the Mammals._ Boston. Houghton Mifflin Co.,\n        The Riverside Press, Cambridge.\nHall, Raymond E.\n    1946. _Mammals of Nevada._ Berkeley. University of California Press.\nIngles, Lloyd Glenn\n    1954. _Mammals of California and its Coastal Waters._ Stanford\n        University Press. Stanford, California.\nJaeger, Edmund C.\n    1950. _Our Desert Neighbors._ Stanford University Press. Stanford,\n        California.\nMearns, Edgar Alexander\n    1907. _Mammals of the Mexican Boundary of the United States._ Part\n        1. Washington D. C.: Government Printing Office.\nMiller, Gerrit S. and Kellogg, Remington\n    1955. _List of North American Recent Mammals._ Washington: United\n        States National Museum, Bulletin 205.\nNelson, E. W.\n    1918. _Wild Animals of North America._ National Geographic Society.\nWarren, Edward Royal\n    1910. _The Mammals of Colorado._ New York: G. P. Putnam\u2019s Sons.\nCockrum, E. Lendell\n    1960. _The Recent Mammals of Arizona._ Tucson: University of Arizona\n  Abert\u2019s squirrel. _See_ Tassel-eared squirrel.\n  Alpine Life Zone, xiv\n  Antelope. _See_ Pronghorn.\n  _Antilocapra americana_, 4\n  Arizona gray squirrel, 36\n  Artiodactyla, 1\n  Bear, black, 112\n  Beaver, 67\n  Bighorn, 2\n  Bison, 8\n  _Bison bison_, 8\n  Black bear, 112\n  Black-tailed deer, 11\n  Bobcat, 85\n  Buffalo. _See_ Bison.\n  Bushy-tailed woodrat, 60\n  Canadian Life Zone, xiii\n  _Canis latrans_, 92\n  Carnivores, 79\n  _Castor canadensis_, 67\n  Catamount. _See_ Mountain lion.\n  _Cervus canadensis_, 16\n  Chickaree. _See_ Spruce squirrel.\n  Chipmunks, western, 44\n      Colorado, 44\n      gray-necked, 44\n  Chiroptera, 79, 121\n  _Citellus lateralis_, 48\n  Classification of animals, xv\n  Cliff chipmunk, 45\n  Colorado chipmunk, 44\n  Cottontail, mountain, 26\n  Cougar. _See_ Mountain lion.\n  Coyote, 92\n  _Cynomys gunnisoni_, 51\n      _leucurus_, 51\n      _parvidens_, 51\n  Deer\n      black-tailed, 11\n      fantail, Sonora, 11, 14\n      white-tailed, 13\n  Deermouse, 57\n  Douglas squirrel. _See_ Spruce squirrel.\n  _Erethizon dorsatum_, 72\n  Ermine. _See_ Short-tailed weasel.\n  _Euarctos americanus_, 112\n  _Eutamias cinereicollis_, 44\n      _dorsalis_, 45\n      _quadrivittatus_, 44\n  _Felis concolor_, 80\n  Field mouse. _See_ Mountain vole.\n  Fox, red, 87\n  _Glaucomys sabrinus_, 42\n  Golden-mantled ground squirrel, 48\n  Gopher, northern pocket, 75\n  Gray-necked chipmunk, 44\n  Gray wolf, 89\n  Grizzly bear, 117\n  Ground squirrel, golden-mantled, 48\n  _Gulo luscus_, 95\n  Hare, snowshoe, 22\n  Hoofed animals, 1\n  Insectivores, 79\n  Jackrabbit, white-tailed, 24\n  Kaibab squirrel, 34\n  Lagomorphs, 21\n      hare, snowshoe, 22\n      jackrabbit, white-tailed, 24\n      cottontail, mountain, 26\n  Least chipmunk, 45\n  _Lepus americanus_, 22\n      _townsendi_, 24\n  Life zones, xiii\n      Alpine, xiv\n      Canadian, xiii\n      Lower Sonoran, xiii\n      Transition, xiii\n      Upper Sonoran, xiii\n  Lion, mountain, 80\n  Long-tailed weasel, 106\n  Lower Sonoran Life Zone, xiii\n  _Lutra canadensis_, 101\n  Lynx, 85\n  _Lynx canadensis_, 86\n  Marmot, yellow-bellied, 53\n  _Marmota flaviventris_, 53\n  Marten, 97\n  _Martes americana_, 97\n  Meadow mouse. _See_ Mountain vole.\n  _Mephitis mephitis_, 110\n  _Microtus montanus_, 58\n  Mountain cottontail, 26\n  Mountain sheep. _See_ Bighorn.\n  Mountain lion, 80\n  Mountain vole, 58\n  Mouse, western jumping, 59\n      white-footed. _See_ Deermouse.\n      Field. _See_ Mountain vole.\n      Meadow. _See_ Mountain vole.\n  Mule deer, 10\n  Muskrat, 64\n  _Mustela erminea_, 105\n  _Neotoma cinerea_, 60\n  Northern flying squirrel, 42\n  Northern pocket gopher, 75\n  _Ochotona princeps_, 28\n  _Odocoileus couesi_, 14\n      _hemionus_, 10\n      _virginianus_, 13\n  _Ondatra zibethicus_, 64\n  Otter, river, 101\n  _Ovis canadensis_, 2\n  Pack rat. _See_ Bushy-tailed woodrat.\n  Painter. _See_ Mountain lion.\n  Panther. _See_ Mountain lion.\n  _Peromyscus maniculatus_, 57\n  Pika, 28\n  Pine squirrel, 39\n  Porcupine, 72\n  Prairie dog, white-tailed, 51\n  Pronghorn, 4\n  Puma. _See_ Mountain lion.\n  Red fox, 87\n  Red squirrels. _See_ Spruce squirrel.\n  River otter, 101\n  Rodents, 21\n  _Sciurus aberti_, 31\n      _arizonensis_, 36\n      _kaibabensis_, 34\n  Short-tailed weasel, 105\n  Shrew, vagrant, 119\n  Skunk, spotted, 108\n  Snowshoe hare, 22\n  Sonora fantail deer, 11, 14\n  _Sorex vagrans_, 119\n  _Spilogale gracilis_, 108\n  Spruce squirrel, 39\n  Squirrel, Abert\u2019s. _See_ Tassel-eared squirrel.\n      Arizona gray, 36\n      chickaree. _See_ Spruce squirrel.\n      Douglas. _See_ Spruce squirrel.\n      golden-mantled ground, 48\n      flying, northern, 42\n      red. _See_ Spruce squirrel.\n      tassel-eared, 31\n  _Sylvilagus nuttalli_, 26\n  _Tamiasciurus hudsonicus_, 39\n  Tassel-eared squirrel, 31\n  _Thomomys talpoides_, 75\n  Trade rat. _See_ Bushy-tailed woodrat.\n  Transition Life Zone, xiii\n  Uinta chipmunk, 44\n  Upper Sonoran Life Zone, xiii\n  _Ursus horribilis_, 117\n  Vagrant shrew, 119\n  Vole, mountain, 58\n  _Vulpes fulva_, 87\n  Wapiti. _See_ Elk.\n  Weasel, least, 106\n      long-tailed, 106\n      short-tailed, 105\n  Western jumping mouse, 59\n  White-footed mouse, 57\n  White-tailed deer, 13\n  White-tailed jackrabbit, 24\n  White-tailed prairie dog, 51\n  Wolf, gray, 89\n  Wolverine, 95\n  Woodchuck. _See_ Yellow-bellied marmot.\n  Woodrat, bushy-tailed, 60\n  Yellow-bellied marmot, 53\n  _Zapus princeps_, 59\n    [Illustration: Southwest Parks and Monuments Association logo]\nTranscriber\u2019s Notes\n\u2014Silently corrected several palpable typographical errors.\n\u2014Retained publication information from the original source.\n\u2014In the text versions, included italicized text in _underscores_.\nEnd of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Mammals of the Southwest 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{"source_document": "", "creation_year": 1937, "culture": " English\n", "content": "MOON OF DANGER\n           The huge ship from Mars bore on toward Earth with\n           the last haggard survivors of a terrible plague.\n         But Ric Martin hurtled to intercept the space-giant,\n             knowing it brought an evil far deadlier than\n               even the relentless metal-spores it fled!\n           [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n         Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n         the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\n_\"In approximately two more hours,\" Dar Mihelson said, \"the ionization\ntowers will fail. Look well upon your world, for we may never return.\"_\n_He was a huge, stern-visaged man, with the weight of his\nresponsibility showing upon him, but his voice was soft as he spoke to\nhis people through the ship's central televise._\n_\"This is our last chance for survival. Upon the success of this flight\ndepends our very lives, and the preservation of the race. Venus is\ndenied to us. Mercury has thrown up a barricade for ten thousand miles\naround their planet. Only Earth has offered us sanctuary--and even\nthere a growing faction has risen against us in fear that some of the\ndeadly spores may be transported to their planet.\"_\n_Dar Mihelson paused, turned his bronze face to look out upon his\nworld. His violet eyes brimmed with anguish. Only the walls of red\nmetallic dust could be seen, the appalling clouds that had surged from\nthe furthermost reaches of the planet to wipe out most of the populace,\ndestroying cities, crumbling everything metallic and thereby adding\nunto itself. It had been a race of their science against time. The\nIonization Towers had held back the dust, only long enough for the huge\nspaceship to be completed._\n_\"We want to go peaceably,\" Dar Mihelson continued, \"but we are\nprepared for any contingency. Many of you have wondered about the_\nValiant's _unusual construction; some of you have doubted that the ship\nis capable. True, its secret is known only to a few, but this much I\ncan tell you now: the_ Valiant _is a fully-equipped fighting ship, and\nwe will use it as such if the occasion arises!\"_\n_The lines smoothed from Mihelson's face, as he concluded, \"You have\nall been assigned to your quarters. The take-off will be in thirty\nminutes. Let us spend that time in prayer to merciful Providence, to\nguide us safely through our crisis....\"_\nRic Martin could feel the excitement already, as he eased his gyro\ncloser to Mount Palomar and saw the great Observatory dome just below\nhim. The night was dark, ideal for observation. The greatest minds of\nEarth would be here this night, to watch a world and its people in\ntheir death-throes.\nRic's face went grim at the thought of it. For weeks the tele-casts had\nbeen jammed with the news. Mars was dying, and Mars had been a friendly\nneighbor for decades. Earth had been helpless to act. No one, not even\nthe Martians, knew where the mysterious Red Plague came from; it had\nappeared simultaneously in a score of places across the planet, quickly\nspreading and destroying everything before it.\nAfter prolonged hesitancy, the Earth Council had agreed to accept the\nMars refugees. Thereupon a brooding dread and mistrust had swept across\nEarth like a patina. A new political faction, the anti-Mars sect, had\narisen and was gathering strength. There would surely be trouble....\nA shrill siren blast brought Ric out of his revery. He glanced back,\nsaw a white-winged police 'copter descending upon him.\n\"Damn!\" Ric set his plane down on the broad field atop Palomar, as the\npolice 'copter came down beside him. Ric stepped out, straightened his\nuniform and waited.\n\"How'd you ever get through our lines?\" the officer demanded\nsuspiciously. \"Don't you know this is the night of the Mars take-off?\nNo one's permitted up here!\"\n\"Sure, I know. But I have a special pass to this shindig.\" Ric produced\na card signed by Professor George Broxted, and the name was magical.\n\"Very good, sir. Sorry to have detained you!\" The officer stared\nafter Ric's departing figure as though wondering how a Captain of the\nInterstellar Fleet could gain admittance here where so many big-names\nhad failed.\nAnd even Ric didn't realize what an occasion this was until he reached\nthe tower. Every outstanding figure in the scientific as well as the\npolitical world was here, gathered in tense groups about the huge\ntele-panel in the center of the room. This Mars take-off was certainly\nthe most dramatic event in all Mars' history and perhaps Earth's as\nwell!\nProfessor Broxted spied him, came over and shook hands.\n\"Good evening, Ric! I won't bother with introductions. No one cares\nabout that tonight. Glad you could make it!\"\n\"So am I, Professor. I wouldn't have missed this. How much time?\"\n\"Take-off's in twenty minutes, but we've already got the scene in\nfocus. We can bring it to a distance of a few miles, thanks to the new\nmagni-beams. Come.\"\nThey threaded their way toward the huge screen to stare at the scene\npictured there.\nIt was a terribly changed Mars that Ric looked upon. The blood-red\nmetallic haze covered all but a mile-wide strip of clear atmosphere;\nand along this strip Ric could see tiny dots of white light, which he\nguessed must be the Ionization Towers.\n\"There's the _Valiant_,\" Broxted said. \"You can just see it on the\nlower edge of the screen.\"\nRic peered--then gave a gasp of disbelief. Even at this distance, it\nwas apparent that the ship had tremendous bulk and stretched for fully\na mile!\n\"They're going to hoist gravs in that? It will fall apart!\"\n\"There are some here tonight,\" Broxted's voice lowered, \"who hope that\nwill happen. The _Valiant_ was built in record time under supervision\nof Dar Mihelson. It's supposed to have a new type of anti-grav.\"\nBroxted paused. \"I knew Dar Mihelson well, when I was at Mars\nUniversity two years ago. A fine man, and I trust him still. He's given\nhis word that not a spore will reach Earth, and every precaution will\nbe taken!\"\n\"It's a ticklish situation.\"\n\"Yes. And believe me, the anti-Mars faction here has grown more than\nanyone dreams! There've been secret meetings, and tonight may set\neverything off. Ric ... if the _Valiant_ manages to up gravs, keep\nyour eyes open! Wessell's here!\"\nRic's brows furrowed, beneath his shock of blond hair. Yes, Wessell\n_would_ be here. Felix Wessell was Supreme Commander of Earth's\nInterstellar Fleet, and he'd been particularly bitter in his\ndenunciation of the Earth Council's decision to accept the Mars\nrefugees. There had even been rumors that Wessell was holding the Fleet\nin readiness, if necessary, to prevent the _Valiant_ from landing on\nEarth. The man wielded a powerful influence.\nRic looked about him now but didn't see his superior, Wessell, and\ndidn't want to. He did see Lal Disbro, the Martian Ambassador. Disbro\nand his aides had been stranded on Earth when the sudden malady struck\nhis planet. Now the man was a disconsolate figure who seemed to have\naged ten years in as many weeks, knowing that only a few of his people\nwere left and even their fate was an imponderable.\nIt was largely due to Disbro's frantic efforts that the Earth Council\nhad agreed to accept the _Valiant_--and then only after appeals to\nVenus and Mercury had been coldly refused. Looking at Disbro now, Ric\nfelt truly sorry for him.\n\"It's almost time!\" Broxted touched Ric's arm. The telescopic sights\nwere being set to follow the _Valiant_ in its flight. There was tension\nin the room and sudden, deathly silence. Could the clumsy bulk of the\n_Valiant_ really hoist gravs, or would it crack up against the wastes\nof Mars? The future of a race was in the balance.\nThe televise took on a deeper glow. The entire planet of Mars was a\nbackdrop across the screen. The seconds ticked off. Suddenly then ...\nthe _Valiant_ moved! It seemed to shudder for a moment under unleashed\npower. Then it slid slowly forward across sand.\nFor a few seconds the scene wavered. The watchers couldn't tell what\nwas happening. Ric gave a quick glance at Lal Disbro. The man's face\nhad gone pale.\nNow it was apparent that the great ship was rising as a bulk, to hang\npoised, fighting against gravity. Then the flash of rockets was plainly\nseen--literally dozens of them, spaced in parallel rows across the\nlong underhull.\nThe scene was silent and unreal. But there was no doubt in any man's\nmind, now--the ship had lifted gravs and was blasting! Slowly, the\ngreat lumbering shape widened the distance. The scene resolved to the\nblackness of outer space where a glitter of stars was seen. There the\n_Valiant_ steadied on her course.\nThe worst was over. It had been dramatic, momentous. Ric heard sighs of\nrelief about him. People were congratulating Lal Disbro, whose face was\nwreathed in smiles.\nBut there were men in this room who did not smile, who were strangely\nsilent. Again Ric allowed his gaze to sweep about--and this time he\nspotted Wessell.\nThe man was tall, hard-featured, crisp of manner. His eyes were stern\nas he leaned a little forward to peer at the screen. Ric watched him.\nWessell's only show of emotion was a slight twitching at the corners of\nhis mouth. Now that the _Valiant_ had gained free space he was studying\nit, studying it hard. His lips curled a little in disdain.\nRic glanced again at the screen. The Martian ship _was_ clumsy, there\nwas no denying it. On its slow and careful course it would take perhaps\nsix days to reach Earth. Much could happen in six days....\nThen he saw Wessell rise. The man crossed to the private room where the\ncommunicators were kept. Through the partly open door Ric saw him lift\na tube and speak into it with crisp authority.\n\"Trouble,\" Ric muttered. \"I knew it!\" And there were cold, coiling\nknots in the pit of his stomach.\nWhen he bade Broxted goodbye a few minutes later, and headed back for\nthe city, it was with a feeling of dark events brewing--events that\nwere going to touch him whether he liked it or not.\nIt came very soon. The harsh buzzing of the ampliphone beside Ric's bed\njerked him awake. \"Hello,\" he said sleepily. \"Ric Martin....\"\nThen sleep was gone from him, as he listened to the voice of his Unit\nCommander.\n\"Very well, sir. Yes ... yes, I understand. At once!\" He slammed off\nthe switch and began dressing quickly. This was it! He'd been called\nback to duty at two in the morning. In thirty-six hours the Coast Fleet\nwas to join the Chicago Fleet at a rendezvous a hundred miles in space,\nand there prepare in battle formation.\n\"Wessell,\" he muttered. \"I didn't think he'd really do it! Those poor\nMartians....\"\nBy the time he reached Government Spaceport, Ric's heart was bitter\nwithin him. How could the plodding _Valiant_ hope to stand against even\ntwo Units of Earth's Fleet? True, Wessell's move was in direct defiance\nof the Council's edict, but he was moving swiftly! Ric had never\nreached a decision as to what he, as a Captain in Earth's Fleet, would\ndo if Wessell attempted to carry out his high-handed plan. He had been\ntrained to obey orders implicitly and unquestioningly.\nBut this was wrong and Ric knew it was wrong. He made his decision now.\nSetting down at the edge of the Spaceport, he hurried to the building\nhousing the tiny Patrol cruisers. These ships were swift and secret,\nwith tubes of the new allotropic metal recently found on Mercury.\nAccess to them could be attained only by special Government pass.\nAs he neared the doors, a guard stepped out of the shadows. The man\nrecognized Ric's uniform but he remained alert, hand hovering near his\nparala-gun, as he gave a challenge.\n\"Wessell's orders,\" Ric replied tersely. \"Emergency!\"\n\"Sorry, sir. You know this requires special--\"\n\"All right,\" Ric sighed. \"Here's my pass!\" He saw the guard relax for\nan instant. Ric poised on his toes and unleashed a long left that sent\nthe guard staggering against the building. The man righted himself,\nmuttered an oath and came boring in. But already Ric was following\nthrough with a vicious right; it connected with the angle of the\nguard's jaw, and he went down. Then Ric was inside the doors, sprinting\ndown the corridor.\nHe found the hangar of the _Falcon_, a swift three-man cruiser which he\nknew well. A glance at the power-board showed him that it was fueled\nand ready. A minute later he was blasting upward, watching the city's\nlights drop swiftly away.\nOnce in free space, he set the robot-control. It would be thirty hours\nbefore he intercepted the _Valiant_ somewhere in its plodding path for\nEarth. At least he could warn them! For he knew, now, that Wessell\nmeant to go all the way--utter annihilation for the _Valiant_!\nAnd this meant revolt--the overthrow of Earth's Supreme Council!\nWessell had waited a long time for this, and there were men behind\nhim, ready to back him to the hilt. The Mars crisis had provided a\nconvenient spark.\nBut Ric wasn't thinking of Wessell now, nor the Earth Council, as he\nsettled down to watchfulness. He was thinking of two thousand Martians,\nthe last of their race, struggling to keep alive this last thin\nlife-line of survival. He was thinking of death in space. Even if he\nwarned them of Wessell's plan--where were they to go?\nHours later, his probing magni-finder picked out the _Valiant_ from the\ndepths of blackness. It was still vastly far away, a mere pin-point in\nhis V-Panel, but Ric cut acceleration. He watched the Martian ship grow\nlarger by the hour. He switched to his radio-beam and sent a message\nthrough, but it remained unanswered.\nIt was still unanswered when he drew close enough to cut his rockets\naltogether and go into a drift. Surely they were radio-equipped? There\nwas only one explanation. They simply weren't expecting a spacer out\nhere, so their beam was off power.\nThey wouldn't spot him, either. The _Falcon_ was tiny by comparison,\nand solid black, undetectable against the backdrop of space. But he'd\nhave to get aboard the _Valiant_ some way! Slowly he brought his\ncruiser beneath the great ship's hull. He was more than ever impressed\nby the size of this Martian colossus.\nAnd he was puzzled. There was something strange about this ship's\nconstruction. It was more than merely clumsy, it was grotesque!\nCarefully he eased along, examining it. For one thing there were too\nmany air-locks, even for a ship of this size. Ric shook his head in\npuzzlement.\nHe began trying his tractor beam on those locks, tightening the beam\nslowly. The locks held. Still he persisted, easing the _Falcon_ along\nthe hull; he had to gain an entrance somewhere! With any kind of\nluck....\nThen, somewhere amidships, one of the locks opened under the steady\npull of his beam. Slowly it swung outward. Ric's hands flew to the\ncontrols. Carefully he eased the _Falcon_ forward and into the lock.\nThere was room to spare. The outer door closed and he heard generators\nhumming, automatically building up an atmosphere. Finally they stopped\nand he knew it was safe. He leaped down from the _Falcon_.\nThe inner door was swinging back automatically. For a moment Ric\nhesitated; then he stepped through, saw that he was in some sort of\ncontrol room. There were instruments such as he'd never seen in any\nspacer! He stared around uncertainly. Then from behind him came a\nqueerly accented voice.\n\"Greetings, Earthman. But I won't say welcome, yet. You will please\nturn around--slowly!\"\nRic turned. A Martian holding a heat gun stepped from behind a bulwark.\nThe Martian came forward and the gun got playful with the third button\non Ric's tunic.\nRic had expected this. Naturally they'd be suspicious of an Earthman\naboard--but he could soon explain things. He stepped back a little from\nthe gun.\n\"I'm friendly. I must see Dar Mihelson at once! I come with urgent\nnews!\"\n\"So? What news?\"\n\"Wessell's massing the Earth Fleet. In thirty-six hours they'll be out\nhere to meet you. He'll never allow you to land on Earth!\"\n\"So. Hear that, Kueelo?\" He addressed a second Martian who was busy at\nwork over a bank of levers.\nThis man looked up and grinned, and Ric liked him even less than the\none crowding him. He especially didn't like the eyes. They were strange\nand colorless, not quite Martian.\n\"Yes, I heard. Take care of him, Luhor; we haven't much time!\"\nLuhor surged forward, bringing the gun up. Ric swayed to the right, his\nhands darted out and caught the man's free wrist; with the same motion\nhe twisted, and brought Luhor sailing across his body to crash into a\nmetal beam, where he slumped and lay still.\nKueelo had whirled, muttering an oath that certainly wasn't Martian.\nNow he leaped for the free gun. Ric reached it a second faster, kicked\nit out of reach. He parried Kueelo's fist--then sent a left to the\nMartian's stomach and crossed with a right. The man was huge, and stood\nhis ground.\nRic danced back as Kueelo came boring in. He realized joyously that\nthis lesser, artificial gravity was an advantage. He sent a boxer's\nleft, long and weaving, to Kueelo's face, then a second and third,\nthat set the Martian off balance. Ric stepped in with a crashing\nright-cross. Kueelo's legs went rubbery. Another smashing right and the\nMartian's face lost contour; he whirled half around and slumped across\nthe bank of levers. Ric rolled his body away and stood looking down.\nThere were thirty of those levers, all numbered. They were large and\nheavy, but just now they were all pulled up from their contacts,\nrevealing masses of coils and wires. Ric frowned, wondering what it\nmeant. He thought he knew!\nThose wires could be easily fused or cut. Ric recognized sabotage when\nhe saw it....\nHe glanced at Kueelo. The man would be out for some time. He stepped\nto the one called Luhor, bent quickly over him. The man was dead, his\nskull crushed. Momentary panic flooded over Ric. After all, he could be\nwrong; if he'd blundered, he'd have to account for this!\nHe rose, looked around for an inter-communication system. He couldn't\nspot one. This ship was utterly alien to him. He did find another door,\nhowever, and stepped out into a corridor.\nRic gasped. This corridor extended for well over half a mile ahead of\nhim, and as far behind--straight through the heart of the ship. This\nwas a colossus indeed! Far ahead he could see a few men moving about,\nbut if they noticed him at that distance they gave no sign of it. He\nstarted to walk in that direction, but a crisp voice stopped him.\n\"Hold it, Earthman!\" Something hard and heavy jabbed into his back.\n\"You are very careless, Earthman. Your blow stunned me, but Martians\nrecover easily. And you forgot to take the heat gun.\"\nRic shot a glance over his shoulder. It was Kueelo all right, he of the\ncolorless eyes.\n\"Martian? Phobian half-breed, you mean! Those eyes--\"\n\"Never mind!\" The gun jabbed harder. \"No tricks with your hands this\ntime, if you want to stay alive. Turn around--slowly! Let us march in\nthe _other_ direction.\"\nThey walked along the empty corridor. Ric's mind was in turmoil. A\nhalf-breed aboard this ship was unthinkable! They passed strange,\ncurved bulkheads abutting on the corridor. Ric couldn't understand them\neither. Everything about this ship was puzzling.\n\"I'm really glad you came, Earthman. It makes my task easier!\"\n\"You mean--\"\n\"Yes. I shall leave the _Valiant_ to the Earth Fleet. But when that\nhappens _we_ won't be there.\" He chuckled. \"You don't understand? But\nyou will--soon.\"\nThey paused before a bulkhead with \"UNIT 26\" blazoned on the door.\nKueelo rapped sharply. After a long moment the door opened slightly.\nKueelo thrust it wide, shoved Ric forward and stepped in quickly behind\nhim. Ric caught a glimpse of a dozen people in this room, men and women\nalike. There were startled gasps as Kueelo waved the heat gun at them.\n\"Back! Move back all of you, and quickly! You, Earthman--get over there\nwith them.\"\nRic joined the group, saw a slow grin come over Kueelo's face. The\nother Martians were stunned, speechless, partly at the sight of an\nEarthman aboard but mainly because one of their kind stood there waving\na lethal weapon at them.\nThen Ric heard a gasp from a Martian girl standing near him, and she\nclutched at the arm of her companion.\n\"Tal ... it's he, the same one! He managed to get aboard!\"\nKueelo flashed them a glance, bowed mockingly. \"Yes. So our paths cross\nagain, Tal Horan. How fortunate for me!\" His smile faded. \"Naric! You\nmay come forward now. I shall need you.\"\nA tall brooding Martian came from the group to stand at Kueelo's side.\nHe too produced a heat gun and helped to keep the others covered. He\njerked his head toward the inner corridor. \"How did things go?\"\n\"This Earthman interfered. Luhor is dead. It doesn't matter now, we\nhave to get away from here fast! Wessell is bringing out the Earth\nFleet!\"\nRic heard mutterings about him and knew that any moment these two\nrenegades were going to have their hands full. Kueelo knew it, too. He\nopened the door again and motioned the group through, as he and Naric\nkept them carefully covered.\n\"You may stay and fight it out with your brave Commander,\" Kueelo told\nthem mockingly. \"_We_ have plans a little less foolhardy ... no, these\ntwo stay,\" he told Naric, indicating Tal Horan and the girl. \"The\nEarthman, too!\"\nOne of the Martians leaped forward, making a try for Kueelo's gun.\nKueelo blasted him down calmly, the heat beam making a charred hole\ncompletely through the man's neck. The others dragged him out, the door\nclanged shut and the five of them were alone in Unit 26.\n\"Quickly now! They'll be giving the alarm! Naric, take the controls\nwhile I release the plates. But first....\" Kueelo faced the three,\nholding a different type of gun, shorter and thicker. Without warning\nhe aimed it at the floor near their feet. A projectile burst, a pinkish\ngas sprayed quickly up.\nRic tried to leap forward, but now he couldn't move! Intuition told him\nto hold his breath. He glimpsed Tal Horan trying to support the girl as\nshe slumped to the floor. But Tal was going down too, slowly, his eyes\nburning hatred. Then things blurred for Ric. Somehow he kept himself\nerect as a shadow swayed toward him. His head seemed to burst, but he\nknew it wasn't the gas ... it was Kueelo's gun crashing down....\nSomeone slapped his face, a voice sounded urgently in his ear. Ric\nopened his eyes and looked up at Tal Horan, whose lean face broke into\na grin.\n\"That's better. Kueelo must have hit you pretty hard!\"\nRic struggled up. His head ached. They were somewhere in a tiny room,\nand he could hear a thin whine of rocket-tubes under full blast. The\nMartian girl was standing near, her attention torn between the Earthman\nand a view-plate looking out into space.\nRic walked a bit unsteadily to the view-plate. Far away in space he saw\nthe _Valiant_ still plodding its course, but their Unit seemed to be\nblasting away from it at a sharp tangent!\n\"Dar Mihelson anticipated trouble with the Earth Fleet,\" Tal Horan\nanswered Ric's puzzled glance. \"No spores are going to Earth, but\nhe's determined to fight if necessary. We only want a place to live,\nEarthman, until we can get back to Mars and wipe out that red plague!\"\n\"The name's Ric Martin. But look, Tal ... Mihelson mustn't fight! He\ncan't possibly stand against Wessell's fleet!\"\n\"I've counselled against it, but Mihelson is Commander and he's\ndetermined if it comes to a showdown--\"\n\"Look!\" The girl was pointing into the view-plate. Far ahead of the\n_Valiant_, across thousands of miles of space, they could see a tiny\npin-point of moving light. The Earth Fleet was moving out fast.\n\"Tal ... Ric Martin is right. It will mean annihilation for our people.\nBut the _Valiant_ has speed! If we could only get a message through to\nMihelson....\"\nRic strode to the door, tested it. It was locked. He turned back to\nTal. \"Where's Kueelo and his pal?\"\n\"Busy at the controls, I guess. They threw us in here.\"\nQuickly Ric searched through his pockets, brought out a disc a few\ninches in diameter, with a milky-white crystallized facing. Inside were\nhighly sensitized coils, and it was rimmed with a sliding sheathe.\n\"Short distance trans-telector,\" he explained. \"Now if I can only get\nthe _Valiant's_ wave-length!\"\nHe clicked a switch and manipulated the dials with swift surety. A bit\nof crackling came through but nothing more. He increased the power.\n\"Afraid we're out of range, and we're moving away fast! Wait....\"\nThe dial began to glow with an inner light. A man's face appeared\nthere, rather fuzzy and indistinct. Ric moved the dials infinitesimally\nand a faint voice was heard.\n\"Quickly!\" Ric held the disc to Tal Horan's lips.\nBut the girl came forward. \"Allow me, Tal! It is time that Dar Mihelson\nknew....\" She spoke crisply. \"Unit Twenty-six calling the _Valiant_!\nWe're moving away fast so listen carefully, Dar Mihelson! You must not\nfight--it would mean destruction! Look to your magni-plates ... use\nyour speed, and stay out of Earth Fleet's range!\"\nMihelson's answer filtered through, something about \"Fight to the\ndeath....\"\nThe girl's eyes flashed, she became magnificent. Her voice took a tone\nof unmistakable authority.\n\"It is Praana speaking, the Princess Praana, daughter of Bedril! I\norder you not to fight, Dar Mihelson! You will not place my people in\nsuch peril!\"\nA thousand miles away on the _Valiant's_ huge televise, Praana's face\nmust have been visible. She realized that instantly, and went on.\n\"I am in disguise, Dar Mihelson! It was Bedril's last order, and we\nplanned this well. I must remain as a rallying point for my people in\nthe time of their direst stress. The time is now! Mihelson ... you know\nmy voice, do you not?\"\n\"But what are we to do, your Eminence? We cannot return to Mars ...\nWessell blocks our way to Earth....\"\nAfter a moment of indecision, Ric whispered, \"You're sure he has speed?\nHe could outrace the Earth Fleet?\"\n\"Yes! You will see!\"\n\"The moon, then. Earth's moon! The crater Tycho....\"\n\"Dar Mihelson,\" she spoke again. \"You must get past Earth's fleet. You\ncan do that, with the element of surprise; then head for Earth's moon!\nSwing around it once and enter Tycho! You will find air-locks there at\nthe abandoned mines, and tunnels leading deep inside. You will be safe\nfor a while! Await further word from me ... I shall contact you again,\nI promise it!\"\nAlready the wave-length was becoming tenuous, but Praana was sure her\nfinal words had reached him. Ric snapped off the disc.\nA voice behind them brought them whirling around.\nKueelo stood in the doorway, heat gun held ready as always. He laughed\nmockingly.\n\"So. A handy little gadget that is, Earthman. And you really managed\nto contact Dar Mihelson with it?\" he shrugged. \"That is all right--we\nshall have entertainment now. It will be interesting to see how he\nout-maneuvers the Earth Fleet! If you three will join me?\"\nThey walked ahead of Kueelo, into a room where a visi-panel had already\ncentered the _Valiant_ and was following its slow progress. Naric\nappeared in the doorway behind them, and remained watchful. Kueelo\nstepped to the screen and manipulated the magni-lens.\nThe space scene seemed to widen, draw away a little ... then the Earth\nFleet could be seen. Even at this distance it appeared formidable.\nIn staggered horizontal tiers, perhaps fifty of Earth's cruisers had\narrayed themselves under Wessell's command. Breathlessly they watched,\nfrom their own ship which was already speeding far out of range.\nRic noticed one thing. The Earth ships were all of the heavy type,\nbuilt for concentrated power-blasts rather than speed. Mihelson might\nout-maneuver them, but, if he chose to fight....\nThe Fleet was almost in range of the _Valiant_ now, and still the\nMars ship continued its plodding course. It was unlikely that Wessell\nsuspected anything. He was approaching slowly to make sure of doing a\nthorough job. It was sheer treachery; worse, it was murder! In that\nmoment Ric felt almost ashamed of being an Earthman.\nSuddenly, from the prow of the _Valiant_ a beam of light probed forth\nto cut the gap of darkness like a slashing saber. Once, twice, three\ntimes it slashed. This was the accepted signal for a parley in space.\nTal Horan muttered and moved restlessly. Praana's golden face had gone\npale. Surely Dar Mihelson was not going to parley! He must know what\nawaited him! Speed was the only salvation now.\nFrom Earth's flagship the answering signal came. And then, although\nthe _Valiant_ still moved, the Earth Fleet applied forward rockets and\nbegan to slow appreciably. Mihelson's strategy was apparent now! This\nwould give him precious seconds needed for acceleration!\nAnd then it came. Without warning the _Valiant_ seemed to burst apart.\nTo the watchers from afar it was startling; to Wessell it must have\nbeen unbelievable. Some thirty Units, each a spaceship in itself, moved\noutward in an ever widening circle ... then all of space seemed aflame\nas the rockets burst into action. The Mars spacers sped straight at the\nEarth Fleet, but the circle was widening now and they passed safely\n_around_ the Fleet, around and beyond it and were gaining acceleration\neven as the Earth cruisers tried to reverse their drift!\nOne of the Earth ships opened up with its rear-action ray blasts.\nSlicing, probing angrily, the livid blue rays tried to intercept the\nfleeting Martian Units. Two of the rays converged upon one of the Units\nand held there. The Martian ship grew fiery red, seemed to falter ...\nthen exploded into holocaust.\nBut the others were beyond range now and gaining acceleration with each\nsecond. Even the atomo-bombs, hurled recklessly, fell far short. By the\ntime the Earth Fleet had reversed, the Martian ships were disappearing\ndots of light, heading for Earth.\n\"Mihelson did well!\" Kueelo said, and whirled dials that dissolved the\nscene. \"Only one Unit lost. But I have the most important Unit ... do I\nnot, Princess Praana!\" His voice was mocking; it seemed to have secret\nmeaning.\n\"Phobian half-breed!\" Tal Horan's face was tight with hate. \"Murderers\nand traitors, all of you ... since time began! Ric, I had an encounter\nwith this man back on Mars, at one of the Ionization Towers. He tried\nto get my identity card so he could come aboard the _Valiant_. How'd\nyou manage it, Kueelo?\"\n\"Never mind, Tal.\" It was Praana who spoke softly, but her slender body\nwas taut, her golden face showed a pallor. \"Where are you taking us,\nKueelo?\"\n\"Ah, so you are curious at last! Observe.\" Again the screen came to\nlife. Ahead of them loomed the bright red disc of Mars! They had made a\nsweeping parabola and were heading back toward the planet.\nKueelo spoke again, and for once his voice lost its mockery. \"Observe\nfurther, The Towers have failed, the plague has conquered. Mars is a\ndead world now. I know that Emperor Bedril and his group of scientists\nremained there. He was a brave man, I admit--but foolish. This was\ninevitable.\"\nPraana turned her head away. Tal Horan said bitterly, \"I wish I had\nstayed to die with him! At least our work--\"\n\"Yes! I am aware, Tal Horan, that you were working with Bedril on the\natomic breakdown of the new Mercury metal, with which you hoped to\ncombat the plague.\" Kueelo's eyes became bright. \"I am sure you must\nhave gone far. Well ... _we_ have worked on the same principle, and I'm\nsure your formula will be useful to us!\"\n\"We?\" Tal was puzzled.\nKueelo merely grinned, waved a hand at the televise.\nThey were skirting Mars. Now a tiny world moved unerringly toward them.\nIt was a dark, airless little world of crags and shadows, but it was\nunmistakable. Mars' smaller moon ... Phobos!\n\"You may watch if you wish. I'm going to treat you to as masterful a\npiece of navigation as you've ever seen.\" Kueelo stood at the control\nboard, hands ready, eyes fastened on the panorama spreading below them.\n\"You especially should appreciate this, Earthman! Naric, keep them\ncovered.\"\nPhobos rushed up before them, a horribly barren world that seemed\nto encompass all of space. Closer it came, but Kueelo didn't check\nhis drive. They could see vast plains dotted with craters, and huge\nserrated cliffs reaching up.\nAt last Kueelo applied his forward thrust, and they levelled out. Half\naround the planet they raced. A mountain range loomed. The spacer\ndipped sharply, driving straight at it! Ric was taut, sweat glistening\non his brow. No ship could ever brake in time at that suicidal speed!\nHe merely closed his eyes, awaiting the inevitable.\nA sudden force sent him reeling. A profound nausea made him retch. Then\nKueelo was at his side, touching his shoulder.\n\"How was that, Earthman?\" Kueelo laughed. \"Don't worry, we're safe\nnow!\"\nWhite-faced and shaken, Ric opened his eyes. They had entered a place\nof semi-darkness, but were still moving ahead.\n\"Where are we?\"\n\"Inside the cliffs! We've entered a magnetic field that arrests speed\nand mass synchronously. We are being slowed in a graduating net of\nforce.\"\nIn a few minutes they had come to a complete rest, but Kueelo told\nthem, \"Stay where you are! Our trip isn't over yet.\"\nRic peered into the forward screen. Darkness encompassed them. He\nturned questioningly. Kueelo grinned and gestured downward.\n\"You mean we're going inside this planet?\"\n\"Yes. _Very_ far inside. We're on the downward beams now. Patience,\nEarthman, you'll see many amazing things before we're through.\"\nIt took a long time, and there was no telling how far they'd gone or\nwith what speed. They seemed not to be moving at all. But at last a\nfaint blue radiance appeared, and Kueelo opened the lock.\nThey stepped out onto a ledge which extended perhaps a hundred yards,\nthen dropped sheerly away. The walls curving up were of polished\nsmoothness, and stretched away into unimaginable distances. The soft\nbluish light came from these walls and seemed to pervade the whole\ninterior of this hollow world. The air was damp but comfortably warm.\nAnd the gravity....\nPraana clutched at Tal Horan's arm. \"This is almost Mars gravity!\nBut ... where do they get it?\"\n\"Yes, we'll have to look into that later.\" Tal cautioned her to silence.\nA three-wheeled car was waiting for them. Kueelo hurried them into\nit, and Naric took the controls. Soon they were speeding away, and\nthey gasped as their ledge tapered off into nothingness! They were\ntraversing the inside of the shell itself.\n\"It's eerie at first,\" Kueelo told them, \"but you'll soon become\naccustomed to our gravity. Just imagine the space out there as being\n_up_. The only difference is that our light comes from the surface\ninstead of overhead.\"\n\"What's the interior diameter?\" Ric gestured outward.\n\"About three hundred miles. And you were wondering about our gravity,\nTal Horan? It comes from out there!\" Kueelo gestured vaguely at the\ngray-blue interior. \"Our power plant is anchored in space at the exact\ncenter of Phobos. But it's reverse gravity--that is to say, its force\nextends _outward_ toward the shell, instead of pulling inward.\"\nTal saw that the man was communicative. He nodded thoughtfully. \"Quite\nan engineering feat! It must have taken a long time to set up all this!\"\n\"Two generations! It was not done in my time.\"\n\"Where are we going now?\"\n\"To the city of the Phobians.\"\nPraana gasped. \"Native Phobians? But there are no Phobians left! For\nthree hundred years--\"\n\"That's the popular supposition, and it suits our convenience. Yes,\nthree hundred years ago the war between Mars and Phobos was supposed to\nhave ended. But you shall see! Perhaps Gorak himself will have much to\ntell you.\"\n\"Gorak?\"\n\"The present Phobian leader! There are only a few thousand Phobians\nremaining, as there are only a few thousand of your people. Ironic, is\nit not ... Princess Praana?\"\nThe city came into view, a sheer grotesquerie of impossible buildings\njutting crazily into space. However, as they came nearer, it was\napparent that many of them were abandoned.\nThey passed through a long street and entered a building which Kueelo\nseemed to know well. He was familiar with everything here, Ric\nthought--too familiar! They came into a room where a man sat at a\ntable, poring over charts and figures. He looked up, greeted Kueelo and\nNaric by name.\n\"This is Tal Horan, and the Princess Praana!\" Kueelo said, the pride\nof accomplishment in his voice. \"We have done better than we supposed!\nAnd this one is Ric Martin, who foolishly came into space to warn Dar\nMihelson.\"\nWhile Kueelo was telling his story, Ric watched this Phobian leader,\nGorak, who was as ghastly a character as he had ever seen. Pallid,\nwith a bluish tinge, the man stood well over six feet tall, but his\nbody seemed frail. His head was absurdly large, quite hairless and\nglistening. The colorless, lidless eyes were not nice to look into. He\nwatched the others, especially Praana, with those cold eyes as Kueelo\ntalked.\n\"So. The Princess Praana,\" Gorak said at last, and his thin gash of a\nmouth parted in a grin, revealing brownish teeth. \"But are you quite\nsure, Kueelo? I seem to remember her differently, in the tele-magnum.\"\n\"I am quite sure, Gorak. It was Bedril's wish that she disguise\nherself.\"\nGorak nodded, never once taking those lidless orbs from Praana. \"You\nhave done well, Kueelo. She will serve as a most valuable pawn. And\nthis other--Tal Horan. Is he not the metallurgist who worked with\nBedril?\"\n\"Yes, and I'm sure he must have their formula for the Counter-active!\nThey were working in the right direction, just as we....\"\nGorak held up a hand. He surveyed Tal Horan coldly from head to foot,\nand Tal returned the gaze unflinchingly. Then Gorak's gaze lingered on\nTal's right hand. He spoke without emotion.\n\"Kueelo. You have not been very observant.\"\nTal Horan whirled for the door, but a dozen Phobians had entered\nsilently to bar the way. Tal lashed out at them, and three went down\nbefore his pile-driver fists before the others brought him back,\nstruggling, to stand before Gorak.\n\"It is useless, Tal Horan. You see, we need this formula.\" Gorak\nreached to Tal's right hand, removed a colorless, plastic ring from his\nfinger. From the inside of the ring he stripped a tightly-rolled film,\nhanded it to Kueelo.\n\"It is you who will need this, Kueelo. I am sure you can persuade Tal\nHoran to assist you in deciphering it.\"\n\"Think again!\" Tal husked through clenched teeth.\nPraana faced the Phobian leader squarely. \"You beast! You'll never\nreclaim Mars from the red plague! And--my people are safe!\" Triumph\nfiltered into her voice.\nGorak grinned down at her. All of him grinned except those horrible\neyes. He turned, touched the huge tele-magnum behind him. \"Let us say,\nrather, that your people have gained a temporary respite. They are safe\non Earth's moon. I watched it.\" Sudden vicious hate erased the grin.\n\"But my people remain too, Praana! For three hundred years the Phobians\nhave hidden and burrowed and builded--and planned! The Martians thought\nthey had wiped us out. They levelled our cities with atom-blasts, they\nslashed and blackened the surface of Phobos and hunted down my people\nmercilessly. Even when our Fleet had gone down to destruction and we\nwere helpless, even when my people sued for a peace from the horrible\nwar, _pleaded_, the Martian leaders would not listen!\"\nPraana was taut with emotion. \"Yes! Yes, our history tells of it too!\nThree times the Phobians had initiated wars against Mars which ended\nin holocaust for both our peoples! And the last time, we determined it\nshould never happen again. However,\" she gained control of herself,\n\"this was long before your time or mine. Centuries ago.\"\n\"True. We are the fourth generation. It is personal, nevertheless! The\nPhobians as a race do not die easily ... nor as individuals do they\never forget!\" Gorak's lips writhed again. \"It was for _me_ to resume\nthe war against Mars! _I_ am destined to be our liberator, and I have\ndone exceedingly well. Once more we are on equal terms, Praana!\"\n\"_You_ resumed the war!\" Her face was puzzled. \"What do you mean?\"\n\"The spores, of course. The red plague that appeared so mysteriously on\nMars. Where do you think it came from?\"\nPraana's face blanched. Tal Horan tried to leap forward, to smash\nGorak's sneering face. But a dozen wiry Phobians held him back.\n\"Yes,\" Gorak went on. \"The spores were launched from here! Almost\nsingle-handed, I have accomplished the destruction of Mars. The rest\nwill be easy! We have far-reaching plans!\" With a wave of the hand\nGorak indicated that he was weary of this. \"Take them away, Kueelo. See\nthat Praana is made comfortable, but guard her well. If Tal Horan shows\na disinclination to work with you on the Counter-active, refer him\nagain to me, but I am sure you have persuasive methods equal to my own.\"\nGorak turned his cold orbs on Ric. \"As for the Earthman ... watch him\nwell! His lips have been very still, but not his brain!\"\nOutside again, Ric flashed a warning look at Tal Horan and said\ntentatively to Kueelo:\n\"As a spaceman and engineer, all of this interests me! Just what is the\nnature of these spores? How did you manage to get them across to Mars?\nAnd\"--he looked about the empty streets--\"where are the Phobians?\"\n\"You shall learn these things in due time. And, if you are entertaining\nthoughts of escaping from here,\" Kueelo said with calm assurance, \"you\nmay as well forget it. You will work, Earthman; you will work very\nhard, in order to stay alive. You'll soon learn why! Later ... you may\nbe of even more use to us.\"\nThey entered the car again and soon were speeding away from the city.\nThe shimmering blue surface light began to fade away. They entered a\ntwilight place where the walls were of dull gray stone.\n\"Where are you taking us now?\" Praana asked.\n\"You shall see! I feel it is best that you understand fully what we\nhave accomplished here, and it is only the beginning. Our plans are\nfar-reaching!\"\nFar-reaching. Ric thought he knew what that meant, but he remained\nsilent and watchful. A few miles further they entered a region of\npallid, purplish vegetation. There were vast patches of it, acres\nwide, growing from the surface. And they saw the Phobians. Hundreds of\nthese frail, pallid people were working listlessly into the growth,\nharvesting it, placing it in small fibroid carts to be hauled away.\n\"You asked about the nature of the spores,\" Kueelo said to Ric. \"Touch\nit, then. I want you to see for yourself.\"\nRic examined it curiously. It grew in thick masses close to the stone,\nalmost lichen-like. It was the strangest stuff he had ever seen. It\nseemed literally to crawl! Carefully he reached out a hand. A faint\ntingling, almost radioactive, went through his skin.\n\"Touch it with metal,\" Kueelo said.\nRic searched his pockets, found a small silver coin. Gingerly he\nextended it. When the metal was yet a few inches from the fungoid\ngrowth, it seemed to be snatched from his fingers! The growth reached\nswiftly upward at it, and the metal dissolved away. For a three foot\nradius the growth turned from the pallid purple to blood red ... seemed\ntrying to tear itself from the stone. Ric could even feel a faint heat\nfrom it.\nSo this was Gorak's weapon! This was the stuff he had launched,\nsomehow, upon Mars. It was diabolic ... and Ric could understand, now,\nhow Mars had been devastated in a matter of weeks! Questions were\npounding in his brain; but before he could speak, Kueelo was saying\nwith supreme confidence:\n\"You wonder how we control it. We have only partially done that, by\nuse of the new allotropic metal from Mercury. Under special processing\nin our atomic furnaces we have been able to strengthen the atomic\nstructure of the Mercury metal, at least to the point where it will\ncounter-act the spores temporarily. With that accomplished, it was a\nsimple matter to propel them on robot-control across the short space to\nMars.\"\n\"And upon landing there,\" Tal Horan's voice came fraught with hate,\n\"the spores broke down the metal and were free to spread on Mars! It's\ndiabolic!\"\n\"Let us say, clever,\" Kueelo continued coldly. \"And with the formula\nyou have provided, I believe we can strengthen the atomic structure\nstill more. We can increase our range. We shall have a weapon indeed!\"\nHe dismissed the subject abruptly and turned to Ric. \"Tal Horan will\nassist me tomorrow at the laboratories. _Your_ work will be here. You\nare new, and can do the work of a hundred of these Phobians.\"\nThere was secret meaning, secret amusement in the words. Ric looked\nagain at the Phobians moving slowly, automaton-like, listless and\ndull-eyed. He felt an awful foreboding as he wondered how long before\nhe became like these shells of men....\nThey returned to the city where Kueelo assigned them to their quarters.\nThey didn't lack for comfort, but Phobian guards, obviously not of the\nworker class, patrolled the corridors ceaselessly.\n\"Their plan is obvious!\" Ric said when they were alone. \"Earth is to\nbe next, unless it capitulates to their demands. And lord knows what\nthose will be!\"\n\"Yes.\" Praana was thoughtful. \"I think Kueelo would have bargained\nwith Mars, but Gorak wanted his revenge, the wholesale destruction of\nour people. And he probably figures it will be a good object lesson to\nEarth.\"\n\"They couldn't have picked a better time, with Earth divided on the\nquestion of the Mars refugees, and Wessell using the Fleet for his own\npolitical ambitions! Tal ... you'll be working with Kueelo tomorrow.\nPretend to co-operate, but slow them down if you can! Learn what their\nplans are. Find out how much time we have!\"\nTal nodded. \"We'll all have to keep our eyes and ears open. Our only\nchance is to get back to that spaceship.\"\n\"How? Even if we got past the guards, we could never find our way back\nto that air-lock.\" Ric laughed bitterly. \"Direction is meaningless in\nthis crazy world!\"\nThen he was strangely silent, as his mind struggled on the threshold\nof an idea. There was something Kueelo had said, in his boastful mood,\nsomething Ric should have remembered. Something....\nBut Ric couldn't recall it now. Events had happened too swiftly. The\nmore he tried to grasp the idea the more it eluded him. At last his\nweary mind gave it up, and he sank into a sleep of exhaustion.\nHe was awakened roughly and looked up to see Kueelo. Tal and Praana\nwere already up, and some Phobian servants were bringing breakfast in\nto them.\n\"You won't find existence here too hard,\" Kueelo told them, \"so long\nas you do as you're told. Eat your breakfast, then you, Tal Horan,\nwill accompany me, and you, Ric Martin, will go with Naric to the\nspore-fields. As for Praana ... Gorak wishes to confer further with\nher.\"\nTal Horan glanced at her anxiously, but Praana whispered, \"It's all\nright, Tal, I can take care of myself; and I may be able to help!\"\nRic accompanied Naric, and they reached the spore-fields where groups\nof Phobians were already beginning the day's work. Ric was given a\nleather hood that came over his head and around his neck, and soft\nleather gloves.\nHe went to work slowly, methodically, following the example of the\nothers. The roots of the growth, he found, were embedded deep. It clung\ntenaciously. And soon, even through his clothes, through the protecting\ngear, he could feel faint radiations at work on his skin.\nBefore an hour had passed, it began to take its toll of him. Sweat was\nin his eyes, but he did not mind that. Much worse, something seemed\nto be happening to his metabolism. His blood moved sluggishly in his\nveins, as a terrible impassivity gripped him. Almost it was as though\nessential salts within his body were being dissolved, to slow up\ncellular activity! Ric paused to stare around at the phosphorescent\nglow that clung about the place like a ghastly pall.\nA group of Phobians moved toward him, pushing one of the half-filled\ncarts. Ric watched them dully, feeling only a desire to give up, to\nsink down into the lichen growth that came about his ankles. To move,\neven to think, was an effort. Then one of the Phobians came toward him.\n\"You are new,\" the man said without emotion. \"To stand still is fatal.\nYou must keep working, keep moving, if you want to last long.\"\n\"Thanks.\" With an effort Ric roused himself from his lethargy, and\njoined the group. He worked fast now. It was tiring work, and the sweat\nstill poured from him, but he felt his brain gradually clearing, and\nthe blood didn't pound so heavily at his temples. He knew well what\nKueelo had meant when he said, \"You will work very hard, Earthman ...\nin order to stay alive.\"\n\"My name is Yarnith,\" said the Phobian who had first spoken, as he\nmoved and worked beside Ric.\nRic didn't see what that mattered, and he made no reply.\n\"You are Earthian,\" the man went on. \"I don't know how you came here,\nbut you are strong, stronger than four of us. Stay with our group,\nEarthman!\"\nRic looked at him, then, and at the others in the group. There were\nperhaps a dozen. They were frail and pallid, but somehow their eyes\nwere not so vacant, there was not the gray look of death upon their\nfaces.\n\"You've not been here so long as the others!\" Ric ventured.\nYarnith's face twisted bitterly. \"No. Once we worked in the city, at\nthe laboratories, carrying on Gorak's great work. He has promised us\nmuch ... expansion, and the respect of other worlds and the glory that\nonce was ours. But I've seen our people sent here to the spore-fields\nin increasing numbers! It's a living death!\"\nRic saw the others nod in agreement, as they listened to Yarnith. \"How\nmuch longer will it be?\" one of them grumbled. \"I for one do not intend\nto stay here and become as these others!\" He indicated the hundreds of\nPhobians moving listlessly about their work.\nRic's heart leaped. \"You mean ... you're planning an escape?\"\nBut immediately he saw he was wrong. Yarnith looked at him in\npuzzlement. \"Escape ... how can that be? This is our world, and where\ncould we go?\"\nRic knew, then, that these people knew little of Gorak's plans. They\nwere probably unaware of the secret air-lock leading from their hollow\nworld! Not for three generations had a Phobian set foot on the barren\nouter surface. Gorak was using them as pawns in his insatiable plan.\nAgain Ric looked about him. Their cart was half-filled now, and they\nwere moving toward a group of rough stone buildings that apparently\nserved as barracks. Yarnith whispered, \"Be alert, Earthman!\"\nRic was puzzled, but stayed with them. They rounded a corner of one of\nthe buildings, out of sight of the other workers. Then Yarnith acted\nquickly. He burrowed deep into the cart, came up with a small leather\npouch; then as the other Phobians gathered 'round, he portioned out the\ncontents.\nRic thought he recognized the brownish stuff. The dread _eishn_ stems,\na powerful narcotic. He'd encountered it once on Venus.\n\"It helps,\" Yarnith explained. \"It combats the fatigue, builds up a\ncellular resistance and re-activates the blood stream. But we don't\nhave much of it here, and--\"\nOne of the men gave a warning cry. Ric whirled, saw another group of\nPhobians appear around the corner of the building. Their dull eyes\ntook on a glint as they saw the _eishn_ stems. Some of the newcomers\ncarried crude knives. Then they were rushing forward, and Ric found\nhimself battling beside Yarnith and the others, battling for his life.\nHe lashed out as two of the Phobians converged upon him. His fist\ncaught one of them, the man's face lost contour and his frail body\nsailed backward. The other went down from a blow to the body. Then a\ndozen of them were upon him, hands tearing at his arms and throat, and\nRic felt himself going down. He fought back, using fists and knees now.\nThe dread lethargy of this place was gone from him. He was feeling the\nfirst joy of battle against odds.\nSoon he was clear, using his Earth strength to advantage. He rolled\naside as a knife flashed toward him, grazing his cheek. He gained his\nfeet. Yarnith and the others were fighting against overwhelming odds.\nHe saw Yarnith seize a fallen knife, and two Phobians went down with\nblood gushing from their throats.\nThe very silence lent an unreality. Ric was everywhere now, unleashing\nsledgehammer fists that cut a path through the attackers. He evaded the\nslashing knives, seized one of the Phobians and hurled him bodily.\nYarnith fought on by Ric's side, exulting, using the knife. The\nattacking group was falling back now. Panic seized them as they\nwitnessed the Earthman's strength. Soon they were fleeing, leaving a\nhalf-dozen of their dead and dying on the ground.\nRic towered there, still feeling the fierce surge of blood that was a\ntonic to him. He heard Yarnith's exultant voice.\n\"That was a battle, Earthman! I'm glad you were with us. They'll kill\nto get a few of these _eishn_ stems.\" It seemed not to matter to\nYarnith that these were his own people. He extended the pouch, but Ric\nwaved it away. Yarnith seemed puzzled, then shrugged, as the group went\nback to their work.\nDisgust flooded Ric like a cold wave from the sea. These people were\nlost, struggling against a hopeless existence. They were little more\nthan beasts, and the addiction to the _eishn_ stems only hastened the\ninevitable. He could not even feel pity--and certainly he could expect\nno help from them.\nHe returned to their quarters in the city, weary of body and mind. It\nwas hours before the dread effect of the spores left him--but Ric was\ndetermined not to resort to the _eishn_ stems. Praana and Tal Horan had\nreturned, and they compared notes for the day.\n\"They've gone far,\" Tal said grimly, \"much farther than I ever dreamed!\nThey have an improved type of atomic furnace. They process and shape\nthe new metal into bomb-casings for the spores; but they're using\nit for new rocket-tubes as well! According to Kueelo, it will give\nthem tubes that are absolutely blast proof and triples efficiency in\nrelation to fuel consumption. Already they've equipped two new spacers,\nand will have more of them ready in the event that Earth refuses the\nPhobian ultimatum.\"\nRic listened wearily, his mind trying to seize the problem. \"What will\nthe ultimatum be?\"\n\"I learned that today,\" Praana said. \"Gorak will demand full\nrecognition of Phobos as a member of the Inner Planet Federation, with\nhimself as supreme ruler of Mars once he reclaims it from the red\nplague.\"\n\"Earth Council will never agree!\"\n\"I learned even more,\" Praana went on. \"Dar Mihelson managed to reach\nLuna safely with all units! They are safe for the time being, deep\nwithin Tycho. And Ric ... the balance of Earth's fleet has sided with\nyour Earth Council, and against Wessell. Already a showdown battle is\nin the making!\"\nRic groaned. \"Just what Gorak wanted! It will give him the time he\nneeds. Tal, how far have they gone?\"\n\"Unfortunately, Kueelo's already deciphered our formula and it gives\nthem the missing equation! You see, Bedril and I were working on a\nprinciple which meant stripping the outer sheathe of electrons from the\nnew metal, without disrupting the atom itself--and the power generated\nwould serve to counter-act the spores. Here, in their new type of\natomic furnace, they have the necessary heat and pressure to do that.\"\n\"What will it mean, then?\" Ric's brows furrowed.\n\"Simply that, in a manner of speaking, they'll be able to control the\nspore action, and they'll soon be able to launch the spore-bombs all\nthe way to Earth!\"\nRic arose and paced the room angrily. He stepped to the outer door and\npeered along the corridor, but a group of guards hurried toward him\nwith electros held in readiness. They had been instructed well. Ric\nturned and continued to pace the room.\n\"It will be at least a few days before they're ready,\" Tal said.\n\"There's little I can do to slow them down, Ric--but my chance may\ncome!\"\nRic paused. Already an idea was growing apace within him. It was a\ndesperate idea but they had to try something--anything! He said, \"I\nthink somewhere in this city there's a supply of _eishn_ stems. I\nsaw some of the workers using it today--maybe it's smuggled out to\nthem occasionally. I want to get hold of some! All I can get! Praana,\nsuppose you work on that. If you can, find out where the stuff's kept!\"\nFor Ric, the next few days were an anguish that surpassed the most\nrefined torture. He worked long hours in the spore-fields, doing the\nwork of a hundred Phobians. One worked hard, in order to retain life\nand sanity; to remain long idle, out there was to die a slow death.\nAs it was, the stuff was taking an insidious toll of him. At times he\nwondered why he bothered. But he drove himself on, hoping against hope.\nOnce he even partook of the _eishn_ stems that Yarnith offered.\nThe stuff was bitter, gum-like, and offered a soaring elation and\na surcease from the terrible fatigue; but the after-effect was so\ndepressive that he didn't try it again.\nHe stayed with Yarnith's little group, moving and working and fighting\nwith them. The others became increasingly hostile, launching sporadic\nattacks--those who could rouse themselves from lethargy--in an effort\nto get some of the _eishn_ stems. But soon even Yarnith's small supply\nwas gone, divided among his group.\nStill the fighting went on, for the sake of action and blood-lust. Each\nday men died. Each day Ric had to protect himself. He found himself\ntaking a fierce joy in it, and he no longer looked upon these Phobians\nas men. They were mere beasts with the killer instinct.\nRic was becoming one of them.\nOnly one thing sustained him. After each day's work the Martian, Naric,\ncame for him in the atomo-car and took him back to his quarters in the\ncity. There at least he had the company of Praana and Tal Horan. He\ncould bathe, and rest, and the meals weren't bad.\nTal Horan, in the meantime, was working hard with Kueelo and the others\nin the laboratories, at the atomic furnaces, at the forges. Kueelo\nseemed not to care how much Tal learned of their work. He was supremely\nconfident.\nAnd well he might be. Tal told Ric of it.\n\"I've seen the newly processed metal under test! It stands up\nindefinitely against the metal-devouring spores--and eventually it will\nbe a complete counter-active against them. And the new rocket-tubes\nare frightening! I saw one of them in the testing block, subjected\nto internal blasts far greater than anything known. It seems almost\nresilient under stress!\" Tal's face had gone pale as he talked. \"Later\nthey plan to equip an entire Fleet. If that time ever comes....\"\nTime began to lose all meaning for Ric. Days blended into a\nphantasmagoria of working and fighting ... blood and madness. Already\nhe was forgetting how he had come here. He cared even less. He was here\nto die, and he hoped it would be soon.\nIt was perhaps a week later that Kueelo came to them, after the days\nwork. \"Gorak wishes to see you. All of you!\"\nTal and Praana were puzzled. In Ric, a spark struck home. He struggled\nto rouse himself. Gorak ... what could he want with them now?\n\"Today,\" Gorak told them when they appeared in his quarters, \"I spoke\nwith the Earth Council. I gave them my ultimatum.\"\nHe paused, watching their amazement. Then he turned to the tele-magnum,\na huge and magnificent instrument, as powerful as anything Earth had.\n\"I cut into the Earth beam while they were broadcasting to Venus and,\nby drowning out their channel, contacted them for a few minutes.\nNeedless to say,\" he turned his cold orbs upon Ric, \"they refused my\nterms. They refuse to believe I destroyed Mars. Of course I realize it\nwould be hard for them to capitulate even if they wanted to. Earth's\nFleet is divided, and all has not gone well with Wessell. Already there\nhave been skirmishes around Luna, and part of Wessell's fleet has gone\ndown to destruction.\"\nRic's heart leaped. At least this was good news! But Gorak's cold voice\nwent on.\n\"I cannot wait for them to destroy themselves, because in two more days\nPhobos comes into juxtaposition with Earth, and that will not happen\nagain for months. Earth must have an object lesson! Come. I wish to\nshow you what I mean.\"\nOnce again they entered the atomo-car and were speeding away from the\ncity, traversing Phobos' inner shell. They passed the laboratories and\nshops, hearing the clangor of work still going on. They came to a place\nwhere huge, powerful-looking rockets were arranged in neat rows. There\nwere literally hundreds of them.\n\"Those are the bombs!\" Tal whispered to Ric. \"They explode upon\ncontact, releasing the spores!\"\nTheir car had stopped, and Gorak ordered them out. Kueelo and Naric\nwere there, and dozens of Phobians, fully armed. The place was well\nguarded. They saw vast mechanisms reaching endlessly across the wall.\nThese were topped by huge metal discs, perhaps ten feet in diameter.\n\"The propulsion pits,\" Gorak explained. \"Even vaster, of course, than\nthose we used against Mars. I wanted you especially to see these--Ric\nMartin. Kueelo, show him.\"\nKueelo stepped to the operating board. Slowly, under his control, one\nof the huge discs slid back. A great, gleaming metal bore was revealed.\nIt ejected toward them silently, as though on great compression coils.\n\"The bores extend entirely through Phobos' shell,\" Gorak went on.\n\"It has been the work of years. They rest on huge pivots and can be\nadjusted to any desired angle.\" He waved a hand. \"As you can see, we\nhave twenty of them. Let us hope we will not need them all. Luna is\nairless, and the action of the spores will be faster there than on\nMars.\"\n\"Luna!\" Praana swayed and would have collapsed, but for Tal Horan's\narms about her. \"You're going to land the spores on Earth's moon? My\npeople are there ... bottled up in Tycho!\"\n\"That is unfortunate. Your people may yet be saved, Princess Praana. It\ndepends upon Ric Martin.\"\n\"What do you mean?\" Ric's voice was tight.\nGorak looked at him calculatingly. \"You may have wondered why we have\nrevealed everything to you--all of our plans, all of our power. It's\nbecause I want you, as an Earthman, to realize what's in store for your\nplanet unless they capitulate. I don't want Earth to go the way of\nMars. I don't even want to destroy Earth's moon--unless it's necessary.\nIt's up to you, Ric Martin, to convince your stubborn Earth Council!\"\n\"How can I do that?\"\n\"Tomorrow evening Earth's regular news broadcast will be beamed to\nVenus. I can cut into the channel again, as I did today. This time\n_you_ will speak to them. You will tell your Council what you have seen\nhere, and what faces them. It will be their last chance! If you don't\nconvince them ... Luna's destruction will! Earth was aloof when Mars\nwas dying, but this will be much nearer home!\"\nThe hours passed. A deadly quiet had come over the city, not even\nbroken now by the monotonous hum of the atomic furnaces. It was\n\"night\"; their wall lights had automatically dimmed, but outside the\nbluish light from Phobos' walls was all-pervading.\nRic, Praana and Tal Horan did not sleep. But the guards outside\nhad been doubled, and they were alert, patrolling the corridors\nceaselessly. Occasionally one of the guards stopped to look in upon\nthem.\n\"Your people will not die, Praana,\" Ric told her. \"I'll convince the\nCouncil to do as Gorak says. Later, perhaps, they can find the way to\ndeal with him.\"\n\"No! His first move would be to order the surrender of their entire\nFleet. Earth would be relegated to a minor power ... and Venus would be\nnext!\"\nTal said thoughtfully, \"Ric ... when you get in front of that\ntele-magnum, tell your Council to send their entire Fleet out here!\nThey ought to be able to blast Phobos out of space!\"\n\"Yes, if they could get within ten thousand miles of here--which\nthey can't! Gorak's bombs are radio-controlled, and the entire Fleet\nwouldn't stand long against them.\"\nThey were suddenly silent, as a Phobian guard appeared in the doorway.\nFor a moment the man stood hesitant. Praana rose, quickly crossed the\nroom to him. The guard handed something to her, and moved quickly away.\n\"The _eishn_ stems!\" Praana handed Ric several tightly wrapped bundles.\n\"For days I've been trying to persuade him to get some for us! I\nconvinced him we needed it for ourselves.\"\nRic had almost forgotten about it. \"My plan may not work, now. But it's\na last chance. If only they send me back to the spore-fields tomorrow!\"\nHe hid the drug carefully away in his clothes.\nAnd Ric did go back to the fields. For him it was the same routine day.\nThose deadly spores needed harvesting, to go into the bombs that were\nstill being assembled. He worked as usual, but stayed near the man\nYarnith, awaiting his chance.\nAt last it came. He managed to get Yarnith apart from the others.\n\"I have something for you!\" Ric reached into his pocket, brought out\none of the _eishn_ stems. Just one.\nYarnith seized it, placed it in his mouth. His hands trembled in\neagerness, his dulling eyes came to life. \"Earthman! where did you--I\nthought--\"\n\"Yes, you thought there were no more of them! Yarnith, you are no\nlonger men, you are slaves, all of you are slaves! Do you suppose Gorak\ncares about you? He and the others live in luxury in the city, while\nthe rest of you work out here and die and kill--\"\nYarnith wasn't listening, he had become as the others. He no longer\ncared. Ric looked at the man in disgust, then fury swept over him. He\nseized Yarnith's arm, whirled him around roughly. Yarnith cowered,\nwhimpering.\n\"Listen to me! Listen! There are more _eishn_ stems, enough for all of\nyou. All you have to do is take them! Do you understand that?\"\nYarnith understood that. It was all he understood, all he cared. He\nnodded eagerly. \"More of them?\"\n\"Yes, in the city! Gorak has them!\"\nYarnith slumped in despair. \"The city. We can never go there again.\nNone of us have ever--\"\nRic shoved him away disgustedly, went to join the others. Throughout\nthe day he moved among them, portioning out the stems, giving them the\nsame story. Each worker received one stem, no more. Some were beyond\nunderstanding him, and these he tried to avoid. Others watched him\ncovetously, eyeing the supply of stems he was portioning out.\nOnce a knife slashed his shoulder, and he went to his knees from the\nblow. Ric whirled and killed the man with a single blow that snapped\nthe frail neck. Ric went berserk then, dashing among them, flailing and\nlashing and throwing fists left and right as the blood-lust came upon\nhim. They fled before him.\n\"You're going to understand one thing, damn you!\" he shouted. \"There\nare plenty of these stems in the city, but you'll get them for\nyourself! I'll bring you no more!\"\nThat seemed to work better. It roused them from their lethargy, and Ric\nkept them that way. How many more he killed or maimed, he never knew.\nIt became a sort of mad game. It was a day Ric was never to forget!\nNor would they forget him. At the end of that day he saw many of them\nin groups, muttering to themselves, watching him balefully. As if for\nthe first time, they realized one thing: this Earthman always returned\nto the city ... and he had _eishn_ stems!\nWhen Ric returned this time, there was a weariness upon him such as he\nhad never known. But a fierce hope burned within him, a hope that these\nPhobians would remember ... that they'd become men again for at least a\nwhile, and not fall again into their lethargy....\nHe'd done his best, and there would not be another chance.\nKueelo came to them, as they were at the evening meal. \"Be ready, Ric\nMartin. The Earth broadcast will be in a few hours. Gorak is getting\nthe tele-magnum ready now.\" He handed Ric a closely-written paper.\n\"These are the things you will tell your Earth Council, and be sure you\nfollow it to the letter!\"\nRic scarcely looked at the paper. They waited nervously, as the minutes\nlengthened into hours, and Ric's thoughts whirled in chaos. To refuse\nGorak's dictates now would mean death to Praana's people on Luna. On\nthe other hand Ric knew that Earth would never capitulate! At the very\nbest, it would mean holocaust and a spatial war such as the System had\nnot known in two hundred years.\nAt last it was time. They were taken under special guard to Gorak's\nquarters, where the tele-magnum was ready. The next few minutes would\ndetermine the fate of two worlds, perhaps even the entire System!\nEveryone was tense. Even Gorak's pallid features were pulled into tight\nlines, as he said to Ric, \"When we've gained control of the Earth beam,\nyou will announce yourself. Then you will read what is on the paper,\nand no more! If you depart from it in the slightest, I shall order my\nguards to blast you down.\" He turned to Praana. \"When Ric Martin is\nthrough, you may make a plea to the Earth Council on behalf of your\npeople.\"\nGorak turned to the tele-magnum, an instrument that dwarfed everything\nin the room. The control panel was taller than the man himself,\nconnected to huge coils and tubes. He manipulated the controls with\nswift surety. The tubes came aglow, danced with silvery radiance.\nThe coils hummed a smooth threnody, then shrieked as they absorbed\nthe increasing power. Soon the sound rose above the audible. Then ...\nfrom far away, a faint voice was heard droning monotonously. This was\nthe Earth beam, the scheduled news broadcast to Venus. Gorak moved the\ndials swiftly, and the voice filtered through.\n\"... at last report, has been determined that the Martians under\ncommand of Dar Mihelson have maintained their temporary haven within\ncrater Tycho. The eight-day Battle of Luna, it is expected, will be\nterminated shortly. An unconfirmed report says that Felix Wessell\nhas been captured, and is being returned to Earth where he will face\ncourt-martial for high treason. Another amazing development concerning\nthe plague on Mars, is thought to be a hoax. Thirty hours ago--\"\nGorak twisted the dials viciously, cutting off the voice. \"A hoax! So\nthey think my demands are a hoax!\" Fury mastered him for a moment, then\nhe went to work over the controls. \"I'll cut into their beam. Be ready,\nRic Martin! They'd better listen now!\"\nThe voice came again, then was drowned out as Gorak's increased\npotential flooded the channel. Tal Horan, standing beside Ric, was\nsuddenly tense. He gripped his arm and whispered, \"Listen!\"\nBut Ric had heard it too, they all heard it. From the streets outside,\nfrom far away, came an angry murmur--a _crowd_ murmur, wafted to them\nthrough the night stillness. And it was coming nearer.\nThey saw Kueelo motion to several of the guards, and the men hurried\noutside. Still the sounds came, louder now, a sort of angry chant. Now\nit seemed to enter this street, to be heading this way.\nAlarmed, Kueelo himself seized an electro and hurried out. Gorak\nstill worked over the tele-magnum. He looked up in annoyance. Then he\nstraightened.\n\"Very well, Ric Martin. I've established contact!\"\nRic hesitated, then moved slowly to stand before the tele-sender. He\nmoistened his lips, glanced at the paper in his hand. At that moment a\nguard came bursting back into the room. Blood streamed from his face.\n\"The workers! I--I think they've revolted!\"\nGorak leaped to another instrument, pressed a row of buttons--six of\nthem, lightning-fast. Then he was across the room, hurrying out the\ndoor.\n\"Ric Martin speaking!\" Ric was shouting into the tele-sender. \"Be alert\nfor spore-bombs aimed at Luna!\" He could not be sure it got across,\nbut that was all he had time for. The remaining guards stood hesitant,\nstarted to follow Gorak, and then turned back.\nBut Tal Horan was leaping into action now. He met two of the guards\nbefore they could draw their weapons ... sent them crashing across\nthe room. Ric leaped to help him. An electro-beam slashed across his\nshoulder, so close he could feel the swirling heat of it. The melee was\nfurious but brief. The remaining guards were no match for the two men\nand Praana, who had seized a small ornamental vase from a table and was\nbattering one of the guards to pulp.\nTal grabbed one of the electros and came to his feet. \"We'll have to\nmake a break for it! I know the way back to that outer air-lock!\"\nOutside, the Phobian workers were coming in a surging resolute mob.\nThere were hundreds of them. On the far side of the street were Gorak\nand Kueelo and a few of the guards. Gorak was haranguing the advancing\nmob, but it was useless. Then they saw him give an order ... and the\nguards began opening up with the electros.\n\"To the right!\" Tal said. \"We've got to get past that mob. Stay on this\nside!\"\nWith Tal leading the way, they sprinted toward the advancing Phobians,\nstaying in the shadow of the walls. The electros were taking effect\nnow. The odor of burning flesh arose.\nBut there was no stemming that tide. The mob raced forward, yelling, as\nthose behind pressed on. Ric's work at the fields that day had roused\nthem, all right--perhaps too well! They found themselves being carried\nforward in the mob.\nA few crazed Phobians swerved from their path to leap at the little\nparty. Tal and Praana had no choice but to bring their electros into\nplay. Ric swung one foolhardy Phobian high over his head and dashed him\nback among his fellows.\n[Illustration: _They brought their electros into play._]\n\"This way!\" Tal hurried to a small building, blasted the lock with his\nelectro. Inside were a score of the three-wheeled, atom powered cars.\nMinutes later they were speeding away from the city, heading for the\nouter air-lock of Phobos.\nThey reached the place, and Tal worked over the mechanism until huge\nmetal doors rolled away. They saw the ship that had brought them here,\nthe Unit Twenty-Six of the Martian _Valiant_. But they had no eyes\nfor it now. Several of Gorak's own spacers were there, those with the\nnew-type rocket-tubes which Tal had mentioned.\n\"Tal!\" An idea was building up in Ric's mind. \"Remember what Kueelo\nsaid about their power plant, anchored in the center of Phobos? He\nsaid it was reverse gravity, expanding _outward_! What would happen if\nwe drove a spaceship straight into it?\"\nFor a moment they looked at each other in delighted silence.\n\"About three hundred miles,\" Tal said, looking at the gray-blue\ndistances of the hollow world. \"And Unit Twenty-Six, here, has a supply\nof atomo-bombs! We'll have to ride it out there, and then get back\nbefore the explosion ... it will take perfect timing ... but it can be\ndone!\"\nFeverishly they went to work. First they maneuvered one of Gorak's\nsmaller but speedier ships alongside the Mars spacer, anchored it there\nwith magnetic plates which could be thrown on or off in a split second.\nBut it pointed in a reverse direction, with its prow toward the larger\nship's stern. Tal Horan looked to the fuel tanks, gave all the rockets\nexperimental blasts to be sure the feed lines were working. At last all\nwas in readiness.\nTal Horan faced Praana. \"Wait here in one of the other ships. Don't be\nnervous. Watch for the explosion. You'll be able to see it. The moment\nyou do, get these rockets warmed up and ready!\"\nShe nodded, but her face had gone pale. Suddenly she choked up. \"Tal,\nis--is it necessary?\"\n\"It has to be done. This is the quickest and surest way! Don't worry,\"\nhe took her hands in his. \"We'll get back, I promise you!\"\nQuickly he turned away and entered the larger ship where Ric was\nwaiting.\n\"You're a spaceman, Ric; I'm not. You take the controls.\"\nRic nodded grimly. Slowly he threw over the rocket-feed control.\nYes, he was a spaceman. He'd handled all types of ships under all\nconditions, but he knew he'd have to call on every bit of his training\nnow! The rockets throbbed to life. Gradually the ship dragged out of\nthe lock, across the vast ledge toward the inner space. Ric increased\nthe power ... then they were free of the planet's shell and heading\ntoward the center of Phobos!\nThe mass of the smaller ship anchored to them made the controls\nunwieldy, but Ric was ready for that. What bothered him was that they\nwere fighting gravity all the way--a gravity that _spread outward_\ntoward them! The result was the same as a blast-off from a gravity\nequal to that of Mars! But there were other conditions that were not\nthe same.\nTal Horan looked to the magni-plate controls that held the smaller ship\nto them. He tightened the power a little and then came to stand by\nRic's side.\n\"About how long would you say?\"\n\"We should be able to sight it in ten or fifteen minutes.\" Ric\nnever took his eyes from the view-finder. \"At least I don't want to\naccelerate until then. We'll need full power for the final drive.\"\nThe space around them now was tinged with the gray-blue light, but it\nwas thick and murky, as though they were driving beneath the waters of\na sea.\n\"Suppose we don't sight the gravity-station. If we miss it\naltogether....\"\n\"We're not heading blind,\" Ric nodded toward an indicator above his\nhead. \"That magni-finder will indicate the direction of any mass larger\nthan ourselves, and then I can center our course. I'm just wondering if\nthe atomo-bombs will be enough!\"\n\"They will!\" Tal assured him. \"The principle of this gravity-station is\nelectronic. It's been here at the center of Phobos for three hundred\nyears without a breakdown ... but once our bombs start the disruption,\nthe explosion will be like nothing you've ever seen!\"\nRic straightened suddenly. The magni-finder had come to life--was\nindicating a position a few degrees to starboard. He altered direction\nuntil the needle centered, and held the controls there. His eyes sought\nthe proximity indicator.\n\"Heading at it now. Fifty miles! What do you think?\"\n\"We can go closer,\" Tal said. Ric didn't question him; he was a\nspaceteer, but Tal was the electronic expert.\nTal Horan was peering intently ahead, now, and he exclaimed, \"There it\nis! I can just make it out!\"\nThrough the glaucous haze they could barely make out a spherical shape,\nhanging stationary, with a faint aura around it lending to the ghostly\nappearance. It must have encompassed miles, for even at this distance\nit was looming larger by the minute.\n\"Close enough,\" Tal announced at last. \"We'd better get ready to\ntrans-ship!\"\nThey worked fast. Ric sighted the controls to pin-point precision, then\nlocked them into place. Tal Horan was standing ready at the inter-lock\nby which they would trans-ship to the smaller spacer.\nRic gave a last look at the controls ... then threw them over to\nfull blast. He sprang through the lock, as the ship leaped ahead\nlike a monster unleashed. With a sweep of the hand Tal released the\nmagni-plates, and was leaping after him. It was close! Their smaller\nship was sent spinning free, end over end, \"falling\" back toward\nPhobos' shell.\nRic crashed against a wall, was dazed for a moment. He managed to drag\nhimself forward to the controls. He groped blindly, was able to throw\non the rocket power which served to stabilize them somewhat. He dragged\nhimself upright, then, and realized that the worst was yet to come.\nIf that explosion reached them!... They must keep ahead of it at all\ncosts. Ric opened the rockets wide, and gasped at the surge of power.\nThese new rockets were blast proof indeed!\nTal was at the stern ports now, watching the larger ship driving away\nfrom them. Soon it had vanished into the gray-blue distance. The\nexplosion would be soon....\nMinutes passed. Then it came. They saw it first, a blinding flash of\nlight that seemed to encompass all of space within Phobos' shell! But\nit would be more minutes before they felt the actual concussion. They\nwere speeding away recklessly, speeding _with_ gravity now! And before\nRic quite realized it, they were nearing the outer shell again and he\nhad to break speed.\nThen his heart sank within him. Due to that wild spin, he had lost\ndirection! The huge air-lock, where Praana waited, was nowhere in sight.\nPrecious seconds passed, as Ric brought the spacer skimming the inside\nof the shell like a pebble inside a bottle! Panic gripped him. This\nwould be the end, if they didn't find that air-lock! It was the only\npassage to outer space. When the full concussion reached this shell, it\nwould flatten them!\nHe heard Tal shouting in his ear. \"The city! There's the city!\" He was\ngesturing frantically, far to the left. Ric headed for it recklessly\nand swept over the city at breakneck speed. The lock should be\nsomewhere a few miles beyond....\nThen they saw it. They glimpsed tiny pin-points of fire as Praana\nblasted the rockets of her ship as a signal to them. Ric braked with\nthe forward tubes. As it was, he came into the wall with a crashing\nglide that sheared half of the underhull away.\nThey climbed out, raced for the lock just as the first wave of\nonrushing air threatened to sweep them up. It became a hurricane. The\nfull concussion would be right behind it!\nPraana was waiting and ready. They piled into the ship and without a\nwaste motion Ric was at the controls. They swept deeper into the\nlock ... into darkness. Unbearable heat enveloped them. Already they\nwere feeling the concussion! There came a moment of giddy acceleration,\nan unbearable pressure that sent the blood pounding in their ears.\nThen a pattern of starlight swept across their vision. Sharp crags\nloomed suddenly ahead ... they passed over them, a wild terrain dropped\nsheerly away, and their spacer became a fiery pinwheel of rocket blasts\nas they were hurled into free space!\nRic was fighting the controls, fighting the unbelievable pressure that\nthreatened to black him out. He caught a glimpse of Phobos behind them,\nbursting apart in a blinding holocaust. Gradually, with alternate\nrocket thrusts, he managed to stop their wild spin. Then, dazedly, they\nturned to look.\nThe scene behind them now was like something on a slow-motion film.\nAlmost lazily Phobos was expanding, as a ghastly bluish radiance\nenveloped the area. Then Ric came alert, as spinning, disintegrating\nfragments larger than their ship began hurling about them.\nHe blasted away, and minutes later they were looking back at the deadly\narea. Only a vast powdery haze occupied the former orbit of Phobos.\nSoon even this haze would disappear as the infinitesimal particles drew\ntogether. A few larger fragments were falling toward Mars now, where\ndoubtless they would take up individual orbits about the planet.\nRic set his course, and on full rocket blast they headed for Earth. Tal\nwas worried, as he scanned the visi-panel.\n\"Ric ... just before Gorak rushed out of the room ... when he touched\nthat row of buttons....\"\n\"Yes, I know. I'm sure that released the bombs. He already had the\nsights set for Luna!\"\nHours later Earth came into view, became rapidly larger in their\nvisi-panel. They could see Luna, far to the left. And a moment later,\npart of Earth's Fleet was seen blasting out to meet them. A voice\nstabbed through their radio.\n\"Hello, hello! Commander Graham of Patrol ship _Terra_ speaking. We've\nhad you in our magniview for the past ten minutes. As you carry no\ninsignia, you will go into a drift immediately and announce yourself!\"\nRic did so gladly. Then, briefly, he explained what had happened. He\nchuckled as the Commander's amazed voice came back to him.\n\"We observed the disruption of Phobos! You came from there? What about\nthose spore-bombs?\"\n\"They're on the way! You've sighted none of them yet?\"\n\"No. We've been watching....\"\nPraana spoke into the sender, anxiously. \"What about my people? Dar\nMihelson, and the others--\"\n\"They're safe. The Battle of Luna is over, and already the Martians\nhave trans-shipped to Earth. We're patrolling the dark side of Luna. If\nwe sight the bombs, we can deflect them from their course, send them\ninto a free orbit and destroy them at our leisure.\"\n\"No!\" Ric said. \"They may land on Earth if you try that. Send a flash\nto your patrol not to touch those bombs, but get away from there fast.\nTake my word, it's urgent!\"\nHe received the Commander's assurance, and the televise blanked out.\n\"It's better to let Luna go,\" Ric said to Tal, \"than to place Earth\nin danger. We can reclaim it later--Mars, too--now that you have the\ncounter-active.\"\nTal nodded. There would be work, long and hard and dangerous. There\nwould be problems. He and Praana stood arm in arm at the visi-panel,\nwatching eagerly as the welcome panorama of Earth spread out below.", "source_dataset": "gutenberg", "source_dataset_detailed": "gutenberg -  Moon of Danger\n"},
{"source_document": "", "creation_year": 1937, "culture": " English\n", "content": "Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online\n                       ALCATRAZ OF THE STARWAYS\n                   By ALBERT dePINA and HENRY HASSE\n              Venus was a world enslaved. And then, like\n               an avenging angel, fanning the flames of\n               raging revolt, came a warrior-princess in\n             whose mind lay dread knowledge--the knowledge\n               of a weapon so terrible it had been used\n               but once in the history of the universe.\n           [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n         Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n         the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\n\"Purple!\" Mark Denning almost sobbed. \"A purple Josmian!\" Forgetting\nthe sweat in his eyes and the insufferable heat about him, his\nclutching hand held up the mud-dripping globe the size of a baseball,\niridescent in the Venusian night.\nThe phosphorescent glow that bathed the endless swamp in ghastly\ngreen, struck myriad shimmering rainbows from the dark sphere.\n\"Two more of those and you're free, lower species!\" It was an ironic\nvoice, with the resonant sweetness of a cello in its depths, that\nissued from the haze nearby.\nFrantically Mark reached down into the tepid mud, where he had felt the\nswaying stems of Josmian lilies whip about his knees. Another globe met\nhis hand. He tugged and twisted until it tore from the stem, but when\nhe raised it to the surface, it was white.\nImmediately it began to shrink. It would continue until it became the\nsize of a small marble, when it would either rot, as the majority did,\nor begin to crystallize into a priceless Venusian pearl. But that\nhappened only with one in ten thousand. It was different with the\npurple ones, they never failed to crystallize into a violet globe of\nunearthly beauty and incalculable value. Less than a hundred of the\npurple had ever been found. They were so rare that any prisoner who\nharvested three, was granted freedom.\n\"Pretty!\" the cello voice taunted, behind Mark. \"In a few hours it will\nbe rotting and stinking to high heaven!\"\n\"Cut it, Aladdo!\" Mark growled. He tossed the white Josmian into\nthe basket he pushed before him across the mud; the purple one he\nplaced carefully in his trouser pocket. He pushed on, searching the\npungent-smelling mud that came up to his thighs.\nSuddenly the warm ooze rose to his waist and crept inexorably higher.\nFor an instant, Mark clawed at the mud. It was surging up to his\narmpits now, as he floundered in the tenacious sink hole. He shook his\nhead to get the sweat out of his eyes and the numbness from his brain.\nHe stopped thrashing about, for he knew that was futile. He threw back\nhis head and gave a shout in which was more than a note of sheer terror.\n[Illustration: _Mark clawed at the mud surging up to his armpits._]\nAt least a dozen men were moving near him, waist deep in the Venusian\nmud. At his cry, they stopped and stared at him dully, fatalistically.\nThey could easily have formed a chain and pulled him out, but none\nmoved. They'd seen too many repetitions of this tragedy to care\nanymore. It happened every day; a new man, a little careless, caught in\none of the deadly sink holes ... it happened even to the veterans of\nthis Venusian prison camp, sometimes deliberately, as they became weary\nof a hopeless existence.\nThe mud was almost to Mark's chin now; only his forearms and his blond\nhead were visible. Hatred came into his eyes as he glared at the men\nabout him, most of them Earthmen like himself, who would not help him.\nAgain he struggled, tried to hoist himself upward.\n\"Don't struggle, you fool!\" came the resonant voice from behind him.\n\"Be still; every movement helps to sink you!\" Then, in an undertone,\n\"No human was ever able to think clearly, anyway.\"\nMark smiled despite his predicament, then he urged: \"Hurry\nAladdo--hurry!\"\nOver the expanse of hellish, green-lit muck, a tiny figure inched\ntoward Mark. Scarcely five feet in height, Aladdo's arms and legs were\nnow outspread, to distribute his weight over as much area as possible.\nThe rescuing figure was like an imp from hades, clad as it was in a\ntight-fitting garment of metallic blue, which even the clinging mud\nfailed to dull; while membraneous wings of a lighter hue began at its\nwrists, joined to the entire under-arm and the sides of its body all\nthe way to its feet, much as the wings of a bat.\nSwiftly it crawled and wriggled toward the Earthman, and without a word\ngrasped him with both tiny hands by the arms. It braced itself on its\nwings, and heaved. A few inches of Mark Denning emerged from the mud\nwith a sucking sound. Again Aladdo made a prodigious effort, and again\nthe Earthman came up from the mud a few more inches.\nThe winged figure held him there, while it gasped for breath. \"Now,\nspread your arms on the mud and stiffen your neck, sub-species!\" The\nwinged one laughed.\nSwiftly it cupped its seemingly fragile hands under Mark's chin, and\nslowly but surely began to pull him back and out. Most of an hour went\nby before the Earthman's superb torso had emerged and was able to help\nthe rescuer. At last he was out of the sink hole, panting, almost\nexhausted and half nude.\nHe still found strength to feel at his trouser pocket, and was\ngratified to find his purple Josmian still there. It was now about half\nits original size, and soon would cease its shrinkage and begin to\ncrystallize.\nMark gazed into the oval face, panting next to his. The heavily fringed\neyes were closed as it breathed in labored gasps, and the slender,\nfragile form shook now and then with nervous spasms. Mark never ceased\nto wonder at the beauty of the Venusians, nor at their absolute and\nmaddening conviction that theirs was the only true intelligence in\nthe Universe. Now to these qualities Mark added that of indomitable\ncourage, as he gazed at Aladdo and marvelled.\n\"Well, Aladdo, thanks seems sort of a stupid word in a case like this;\nI owe you my life. I don't know how I'll ever repay the debt....\"\nMark's eyes roved over the weird scene, taking in the soulless,\nhopeless hulks that had once been men. And it suddenly occurred to him\nthat he'd had enough of this hellish corner of Venus; he had been here\ntwo months and already he was unable to think clearly, he was becoming\nidentified with the living death of the Venusian Prison Swamp. His\nmission apparently had failed. What he had come to learn, remained a\nsecret, and he was slowly becoming like these shells of men who prowled\nthe ocean of mud, eventually to disappear beneath it.\n\"No need to thank me, middle order, I would have missed our discussions\nhad you gone.\" The Venusian grinned impishly.\n\"What? I've been promoted! You must be ill, to call me anything above\na 'lower order' or a 'sub-species'!\" Mark smiled too, but seriously\nwondered what crime had condemned Aladdo to a prison reserved only for\nthe most hardened and hopeless criminals, or for political prisoners\nwhose existence was a threat to the Tri-Planetary League.\n\"At times, you're almost intelligent,\" the Venusian replied placidly.\n\"Any one of these other men would have struggled had they been in your\nplace, and I would have been helpless.\"\n\"Why didn't you use _your_ brain,\" Mark couldn't resist prodding the\nother, \"and by flying above me, get to me quicker, instead of crawling\nall that distance?\"\nThe winged figure laughed mirthlessly, and for an answer held up its\narms. The azure membranes that were its wings, hung in limp folds.\n\"Useless, you see,\" he said quietly. \"The tendons have been cut.\nOtherwise I could fly up and out of this swamp, despite its five\nhundred mile width.\"\nMark could find no words to say. Since being assigned at his own\nrequest to this last grim haven of the damned, by the Tri-Planetary\nPrison Bureau, on a special mission, there had been moments when the\nhorror of it all had made him doubt the wisdom of maintaining such a\nghastly place. He knew, of course, the tremendous deterrent influence\nits existence exerted, besides the important revenue derived from\nVenusian pearls; still it all seemed too inhuman.\n\"You don't seem criminal, Earthman!\" the cello-like voice introduced on\nMark's thoughts. \"I fail to catch the typical vibrations of the killers\nand ravagers. Your crime ... was it political?\"\n\"Why, yes!\" Mark assented hurriedly. It wouldn't do for this Venusian\nto suspect he was an operative. \"To put it briefly, I am classified as\ntoo individualistic for the new order of 'controlled endeavor'. Also\ntyped as irreconcilable--and you know what _that_ means!\"\n\"Perfectly!\" The enigmatic smile hovering on the Venusian's lips faded\nslowly. \"I, too, am a 'political'. My father was Bedrim, the Liberator.\nAll we of Venus asked was real independence instead of the mock freedom\nyour Earth grants us; in reality we are a vassal state with no voice\nbut Earth's.\"\n\"Bedrim!\" Mark exclaimed, aghast. For more than a decade that name had\nmade history, engulfing three planets in a suicidal struggle that had\nended in a stalemate. Bedrim was dead now, Mark knew; but in Venus and\neven on Mars, the name was a glorious legend. It was only with the\ngreatest effort and vigilance that Earth was able to enforce the peace.\n\"So _this_ is what became of you!\" Mark said slowly, softly. \"The three\nworlds do not know, they still wonder--\" Then he caught himself and bit\nhis lip.\n\"Yes,\" Aladdo murmured bitterly. \"The worlds do not know. I was to be\ngiven amnesty, I was so young; but your inner Council decided that as\nlong as I lived I would be a rallying point for irreconcilables of\nVenus, and so I was hunted from planet to planet until ... well, here\nI am on my own world, but as far away from my people as if I were on\nBetelgeuse. Here I do not live.\"\n\"But surely there must be some way of convincing the Council that\nyou're harmless! And if that fails, well ... of getting you out of\nhere!\"\n\"Out of Paradim?\" Aladdo's smile had all the despairing bitterness of\na soul damned for all eternity; all the tears and the anguish and the\nwracking sorrow of the condemned since the world began seemed to be\nfrozen for an instant in that smile. \"Look about you, Earthman!\"\nIt was true. Mark had to acknowledge the psychological genius who\nhad devised the Venusian Prison System. For five hundred miles the\nswamp Paradim extended in either direction, impassable, pitted with\nsink holes into which a man would disappear without trace. And beyond\nwere the impenetrable jungles, alive with lurking carnivora, lurking\nmonsters of the night, red in tooth and claw. Only on the opposite\nhemisphere were the two larger and hospital continents of Venus.\nHere, on this tiny continent, the prison ship came once a month, to\nhover over the tiny islet in the middle of the swamp, the only spot of\nfirm ground for untold miles. Here it dropped supplies and food, and\noccasionally picked up the little heaps of fabulous Venusian pearls.\nThere were no guards and none were needed, for at night when the\nawful humidity increased, the men worked or died. With night came the\ndreaded fog, lurid in the ghostly illumination of the _igniis fatui_,\nthe phosphorescent radiance of this vast graveyard. And the idle died.\nDecomposition of the blood set in; essential salts within their bodies\nwere dissolved, cellular activity ceased, and their bodies bloated.\nNot many, however, were idle.\nEscape? For years it had been thought a virtual impossibility. The very\nthought would have brought smiles to the grim faces of that august\nbody, the Tri-Planetary Bureau of Prisons. And yet--a notorious killer\nwho had been sent to this swamp only a year ago, had recently been\nfound dead--out in space!\nA patrol ship had found the body floating a few thousand miles off\nCallisto, an atom-blast hole drilled neatly through the forehead. There\nwas not the slightest doubt that this was the same man. How had this\ncriminal been able to escape the swamp and travel to Callisto, millions\nof miles away? It was a mystery and above all, a challenge. Apparently\nthe Venus Prison had ceased to be impregnable. And that was why Mark\nDenning, the Prison Bureau's leading investigator, was here.\n\"Guard your pearl, middle species,\" Aladdo's voice was ironic once\nmore. \"Escape, and with it you may buy a pardon!\" Without a backward\nglance, the Venusian moved on with nightmare slowness through the\nswirling mists, pushing his basket into which the Josmian globes were\nloaded.\nEscape, Mark thought, following the Venusian. He did not need to\nescape, he could signal the prison ship to pick him up the next time\nit arrived. He wondered if he should. He had been here two months, and\nthey were an eternity that dwarfed any concept of hell. But he hadn't\nany clue to the mystery of the escaping convicts, and he could hardly\nreturn with a confession of failure.\nHe looked ahead through the mists, at the slender body of Aladdo in its\ntight-fitting sheath of metallic blue. \"I _would_ miss Aladdo,\" Mark\nwhispered to himself; \"and if he can stand it here, I should be able\nto!\"\n\"What are you mumbling about to yourself?\" Aladdo's mocking voice\ncame back to him. \"That lowers you from the middle species to the sub\nspecies again.\" He held up a Josmian globe against the greenish swamp\nglow. \"White,\" he said contemptuously and threw it into the basket.\nPushing through the muck with his tremendous strength, Mark cut the\ndistance that separated them. \"You may have my purple one, Aladdo. I\nwill not need it, and perhaps you ... with it you might....\"\n\"If I were to gather a hundred purple ones, I could not buy my\nrelease.\" The Venusian was staring at Mark peculiarly, as if wondering\nwhy he should have made that offer. \"Do you suppose, Earthman, any of\nthe other men saw you find it? They would kill you for it--cheerfully.\"\n\"No, I think not; no one saw me bring it up but you.\"\n\"Then guard it.\" Aladdo eyed Mark's powerful frame critically. \"Guard\nit with your life, for you may have to fight for it soon.\"\n\"Telepathy! You've caught someone's thought vibrations?\" Mark asked in\na whisper. He well knew that telepathy, although not commonly used, was\nan established fact among the Venusians.\nBut Aladdo's long lashes rested against pallid cheeks, veiling eyes\nthat were abrim with something Mark could not understand. \"No,\" the\nwinged one said at last, \"it wasn't a thought vibration--not that\nclear--perhaps a vibration of evil! Be alert, Earthman. I can say no\nmore.\"\n\"All right, thanks, Aladdo.\" But inwardly Mark cursed the inherent\nVenusian mania for ultra-reserve, for making a mystery of even the most\ncommonplace affairs. \"Let's head for the island, it's almost dawn.\"\nAbove, the cloud-cap was prismatic with color as the sun tried feebly\nto penetrate the grayness and then gave up the attempt, as if it had\ntried many times before and failed. Slowly the vast swamp's contours\ncame into view, with their small island a faint green line against the\nhorizon's rim. And as the grayish dawn light increased, suffusing the\ngrim morass, Mark and Aladdo made their slow way toward it.\n\"Up you go!\" Mark's long muscles corded as he heaved and Aladdo's body\nleft the mud with a sucking sound, to sprawl on the solid ground of the\nisland. Presently the Earthman joined him, and for a few seconds they\nrested silently.\nAll around them the vegetation surged, lush and matted, inextricably\ntangled with parasitic vines. Whereas the expanse of swamp was bare\nof the myriad growths of Venus, for some unknown chemical reason,\nthe island itself was riotous with them. It was as if every inch of\n_terra firma_ were precious. The humid air was hot and stagnant, heavy\nwith the overpowering fragrance of flowers. Even after two months of\nconditioning, Mark had difficulty in breathing, as the odors of this\nalien world increased as the temperature rose.\n\"Arrgh, what a world!\" Mark said disgustedly, as he rose to his feet.\n\"I'm going to bathe, before the gang arrives. You'd better come too.\"\nTogether they went up the vine-entangled path toward the barracks, and,\nrounding a corner of the building, followed another path to where a\nsmall spring gushed from an elevation; it fell in a sparkling shower\nand then meandered a few feet to lose itself in the swamp.\nAladdo, as usual, merely let the water flow over the metallic suit\nthat sheathed the slender body. By the time they had finished bathing,\nthe rest of the convicts began to emerge from radiating paths, to dump\ntheir swamp pearls onto the growing heap by the side of their barracks.\nSome of the men threw themselves on the ground, exhausted in minds\nand bodies, and were almost instantly asleep. A few sat against the\nbarracks wall and chewed the deadly _tsith_ stems, their eyes vacant,\ntheir faces gray. _Tsith_ was awful stuff, even if it did banish pain.\nMark knew that these men wouldn't last long, but he wondered if perhaps\nthey weren't the wiser ones after all!\nReturning from his bath to the barracks, Mark found that Aladdo had\ndisappeared. He entered, and donned a thin rubberoid garment from\namong his meager store of personal belongings. It resembled one of\nthe ancient woolen suits that Earthmen had used against the cold many\ncenturies before; but there was a great difference. Mark's garment was\nimpervious to cold or heat, highly flexible, yet the interlining of\nallurium mesh could intercept anything short of a ray blast.\nWhen Mark emerged, he found Aladdo talking in very low tones, with a\ntall, Martian-Venusian half-breed. This man was fantastic. He had the\nslenderness of the Venusians, and the finely chiseled features, but his\neyes were Martian--deep purple and immense, far too large for the face.\nThe breadth of shoulder and barrel chest was Martian too, ludicrous in\ncomparison with the wasp waist and slender thighs.\nMark had seen this half-breed about the swamp before, and wondered who\nhe was. Now Aladdo, glancing up, called to him. Mark walked over to\nthem.\n\"This is Luhor, Earthman,\" the Venusian crossed both hands at the\nwrists in the immemorial Venusian gesture indicating that a friend was\nbeing introduced. \"Luhor, the Earthman's name is Mark. He is the one I\ntold you about. Note the muscular power of the body, the intelligence\nof the face, no less than middle-order. I think you shall find him most\nuseful.\"\nMark felt as if he were on the auction block, as Aladdo calmly pointed\nout his physical attributes. He was mystified. At the back of his mind\na vague memory strove to emerge; it was barely a sense of having seen\nthis man Luhor before, moving among the torpid convicts and whispering\nto them briefly. Perhaps it had been an allusion of the swamp's night\nglow, and yet, the feeling persisted. Mark extended his hand to the\nMartian-Venusian, who eyed him silently, expressionless, without\ngrasping the proffered hand. Around them, the atmosphere was electric.\nAt last Luhor spoke. \"Only fifteen can go. They have been picked out!\"\nHis was a rumbling voice, emotionless--cold.\n\"Eliminate one then,\" Aladdo said imperiously.\n\"How? They'll fight like Ocelandians; they already know they've been\npicked, O Aladdian!\"\nThen Mark Denning understood. Escape was being planned. Aladdo was one\nof those to go, and was trying to induce Luhor to include him! Mark's\nheart was pounding, he knew that it was now or never; he must be among\nthose who escaped. He would never again be so close to the solution of\nthe mysteries he had been sent here to solve.\n\"I'm new here,\" Mark spoke hurriedly. \"Look at my arms, my chest.\nI have tremendous strength and endurance. My vitality has not been\nsapped by the swamp as yet. Take me also, Luhor, I'll repay you beyond\nanything you can dream of!\"\nThe half-breed's mouth twisted slowly into a cold sneer as he gazed\nat the Earthman, then he shrugged his shoulders. It might have meant\nanything, but Mark thought it meant denial. In silence Luhor bowed to\nAladdo and strode off toward a group of several men. It was odd, Mark\nthought--a half-breed convict showing such a mark of respect to another\nconvict. But perhaps it was because Luhor was half Venusian, and Bedrim\nhad been Aladdo's father. Mark turned questioningly to Aladdo.\nHe was amazed to see sudden alarm leap into the Venusian's eyes,\ntogether with a warning cry.\nMark stepped lithely aside, but not in time to avoid a terrific blow\nbetween his shoulder-blades that left a burning point of fire in his\nflesh. He half fell to his knees, but whirled around to confront a\nbestial face, maddened now by blood-lust. In the attacker's hand was\nthe haft and a piece of broken blade from what had evidently been a\nsmuggled knife. It was useless now, shattered against the allurium mesh\ninterlining of Mark's suit.\nWith a cry of baffled rage the attacking Earthman hurled the broken\nweapon into Mark's face, and launched himself close behind it. Mark\nrolled slightly aside, then gained his feet and whirled to face his\nattacker. Mark was icy calm now. He awaited the convict's next rush,\nthen sent a straight left unerringly to the man's head, driving him\noff-balance. Mark kept facing him, balanced lightly on his toes as the\nman came boring back in tenaciously. Mark's right arm was a peg upon\nwhich he hung the convict's blow, while he used the boxer's left, long\nand weaving, throwing it swiftly three times like a cat sparring with a\nmouse.\nThe killer rushed, aggressive and eager. Mark let his heels touch the\nground this time, refused to give way. He took a murderous hook to the\nstomach without flinching, countered with a quick left to the face and\nthen a vicious right-cross. The convict's face seemed to lose contour,\nits features blurred as the face went gory; his feet crossed and his\nknees went suddenly rubbery, he fell with a crash and didn't get up.\nMark towered above him, breathing heavily, only now aware of the little\ngroup of interested men who had watched.\n\"You fight like a Venusian Ocelandian--as ruthless, and as methodical.\"\nIt was Luhor who stepped forward and spoke; he was grinning twistedly\nas he surveyed Mark's handiwork.\n\"Now I wonder why he wanted to eliminate me?\" Mark gestured puzzledly.\nFor an answer Aladdo, standing close by him, tapped the spot where\nin a hidden, inner pocket reposed the purple pearl. The gesture went\nunnoticed by Luhor, but Mark suddenly understood.\n\"What do you care?\" Luhor waved a hand as if dismissing the fallen foe.\n\"He was one of the chosen. You may take his place, Earthman, since\nyou have so neatly disabled him.\" His large weird eyes took in Mark's\nphysique with a new interest.\nTo Aladdo he said, \"You have your wish.\" Again there was that odd note\nof deference in his voice. He bowed slightly and turned away again to\nthe gathered little group of men.\n\"When do we start?\" Mark whispered eagerly to Aladdo.\nBut the Venusian's eyes were preternaturally bright. A frail hand was\nheld up for silence. Mark stood tense, listening. The brightness of\nAladdo's eyes seemed to increase.\nAnd then Mark heard it. They all heard it. It was unbelievable.\nThe low, powerful hum of a repulsion beam rent the stillness. It was\nfaint and far away at first, but became steadily louder. This, Mark\nknew, was not the hornet's hum of the tiny craft the Prison Bureau sent\nwith supplies; this was the unmistakable vibration of a Spacer hovering\nabove them!\nSoon the immense bulk of the spaceship dropped slowly from the cloud\nbanks above, like a silvery ghost descending. It hovered fifty feet\nabove the islet, the powerful repulsion beam humming its deafening\ndrone. An under-hull lock opened. A long flexible ladder rushed\nuncoiling through the murky atmosphere until it struck the ground a\ndozen paces from the barracks.\n\"Back!\" Luhor's voice crackled like an icy javelin as an avalanche of\nhumanity scrambled toward the ladder, clawing, tearing and screaming.\nIn his hand he held an atom-blast capable of annihilating that entire\nsnarling group. They saw it and halted uncertainly. Luhor strode calmly\ntoward the ladder and again shouted, \"Back, you vermin!\" He brought\nthe weapon up as if to fire, and the tattered dregs who had been human\nbeings still prized life enough to retreat sullenly.\nIn a cold voice Luhor called names from a list in his hand. His huge\npurple orbs inspected each man to step forward, then he waved them\ntoward the ladder. Aladdo was first, and Mark's heart leaped as the\nVenusian scrambled up the weaving ladder, grasping the metal rungs with\nfragile hands. One by one, fifteen convicts were called. Mark was among\nthe last, and he heard Luhor ordering the remaining convicts into the\nswamp. Two disobeyed and leaped forward desperately. Luhor's atom-blast\nspat, one man dropped in his tracks and the other went scrambling back.\nCries, imprecations, curses and pleadings dwindled as the men retreated\nto the mud.\nIt was then that Luhor himself began to ascend the rungs, as the ladder\nwas slowly pulled up. A rush of maddened convicts clawed at empty\nair as the stairway to freedom rose above their heads. Luhor laughed\nmockingly down at them. Mark, just above, suddenly hated Luhor for that.\nInside the Spacer, with the air-lock closed, Luhor turned to the\nwaiting men. His rumbling voice rose commandingly. \"Anyone with\nweapons, whatever they are, throw them on the floor before you; if\nyou refuse, or we have to search you and find them, you'll be dropped\nthrough the air-lock into the swamp. Choose!\"\nThe absolute cold finality of his tone left no doubt. A veritable\narsenal of sharpened rocks, crude metal knives, and bent wires coated\nwith deadly poison from Venusian plants, showered down.\n\"All through?\" The half-breed's purple eyes ranged down the line\nof men, as if he could see into their minds. There was a moment of\nsilence, then one of the men hesitantly dropped an outmoded heat-gun,\nold-fashioned but deadly. Luhor's eyebrows went up, and he smiled\nthinly. \"All right,\" he told a member of the crew, \"gather up this junk\nand toss it out. You new men follow me. First you'll sluice off the mud\nand put on some decent clothes. Afterwards you'll see the _Commander_;\nand,\" he added, \"the _Commander_ will see you!\" A fleeting smile\nhovered on his lips as if he had a little joke all his own.\nMark was amazed at the spaciousness of the ship, and at the luxury of\nits appointments. It was apparent at once that this was no ordinary\nSpacer, for it was a fighting craft as well--a long, slim torpedo of\ndeath modern beyond anything he'd ever seen. He only obtained a glimpse\nof a few of the craft's weapons, but they looked formidable enough to\ntackle anything the Tri-Planetary ships could muster. He tried not to\nappear too curious, however; he knew that just now his best bet was to\nlook dazed and docile.\nHe glanced around for Aladdo, but the little Venusian had disappeared.\nMark wasn't too surprised. He was satisfied to know that Aladdo was on\nthe ship, and that eventually he would appear.\nThe men scrubbed themselves with soap under needles of warm water, and\nachieved cleanliness for the first time in many months. Dressed in\nclean trousers and tunics, they were ready at last to go before the\nCommander. The men moved restlessly and whispered among themselves.\nNone knew where they were going, or why. They only knew that a miracle\nhad happened and they had been delivered from the great swamp. It\ndidn't occur to any of them as yet that there could be a situation even\nremotely as bad as their living death in the swamp.\nOne by one, they were called, as they waited in the ship's comfortable\nleisure-room. At its far end was an automatic beryllium door, and as\neach man's name was called through an amplifier, the door would open\nto permit a man to go through. Already nine men had passed through, and\nnone had emerged.\nMark could hardly restrain his impatience. Behind that door was the\nsolution of a great mystery--a mystery which had grown in importance\nbeyond anything the Prison Bureau officials had dreamed of, Mark\nrealized, considering the perilous super-efficiency of this spaceship,\nnow speeding away from Venus!\nMark's name was called last, and he tried to achieve a careless\nnonchalance as he walked toward the door that opened silently for\nhim. He would not have been too surprised to find that Aladdo was the\nCommander of this ship; that thought had occurred to him. As he entered\nthe huge compartment, however, he had only a confused impression of\nbrilliant lighting and indiscriminate luxury. Magnificent, ceiling-high\ntapestries covered the metal walls; beneath his feet, the resilient\npile of an imperial Martian rug was a splash of varicolored splendour.\nOrnaments from three planets were everywhere, some of them museum\npieces, like the desk of extinct Martian _Majagua_ wood, inlaid with\nminiature mosaics of semi-precious stones.\n\"Loot from the spacelanes!\" Mark exclaimed inwardly. And then he was\nbeyond all amazement as his gaze went across the bright room, and he\nsaw the two people present.\nOne was Luhor, dressed resplendently now, the shadow of a smile\nupturning the corners of his mouth. He was standing. Seated at a desk\nbeside him was a girl. She was clad in a close-fitting uniform of a\nwhite, gleaming material like watered silk.\nMark slowly let out his breath, and then he crossed the room. He\nwondered if she were really that beautiful, or if it was just the\ngarish lights and surroundings.\nShe spoke first. \"If you must be amazed, please do it quickly. I am\nweary of these interviews.\"\nMark looked at her eyes that were blue but unsmiling, and lips that\nsmiled thinly but didn't mean it. Her slightly turned-up nose would\nhave been amusing ordinarily but wasn't now. Coppery brown hair was\nbrushed smoothly back from her forehead, to fall in waves to her\nshoulders. Mark wished she would smile with her eyes as well as her\nlips.\nHis own smile faded, he took a deep breath and said, \"I am sufficiently\namazed.\"\n\"Good. Then we can proceed. Luhor, is this the last one?\"\n\"Yes. He's the one I was telling you about.\"\nShe turned her cold blue eyes upon Mark again. Her voice was\nemotionless, almost a monotone. \"Luhor tells me you were exceedingly\nanxious to leave the Venus swamp. Why?\"\n\"Why!\" Mark repeated in amazement. \"Why does any man want to leave\nthere? It's a living death--and I was slowly going crazy.\"\n\"You had only been there a few months?\"\n\"That's right.\"\n\"Why were you sent there?\"\nMark hesitated for a split second, and decided he had better stick to\nthe same story he'd told Aladdo. \"I'm a 'political',\" he said.\nShe nodded, as though satisfied. \"I have never been actually in the\nswamp. I understand that you worked hard there?\"\n\"Yes, very hard. We had to, to stay alive.\"\n\"You will work very hard for me--for the same reason. Perhaps you will\nwish you had stayed in the swamp. What can you do?\"\nMark brightened. \"Around a spaceship? I can handle rocket-tubes, or\ncontrols. Also probably any weapon you care to mention. Calculations\nand differential equations are pretty easy. I could almost quote you\nthe entire _Advanced Principles of Space Navigation_....\" With a rush\nof nostalgia Mark was remembering all the mechanics and mathematics\nof his four years in Government Spacer School. He went on with cool\nconfidence, \"I could take one of your atomomotors apart, jumble the\npieces and put it together again. I'm really a mechanic rather than a\nspaceman. Spacery's only a hobby of mine....\"\nShe swung her eyes over to the half-breed. Luhor nodded, grinning with\nhuge amusement. She said to Mark:\n\"You will work at the mines, where you are going. You can make _that_ a\nhobby of yours. I do not like men with me in space who know more about\na ship than I do.\"\nMark slowly seethed, but said nothing. She waved a slim hand in\ndismissal. Luhor, still grinning, showed Mark the door by which to go\nout.\nMark awakened suddenly, aware that someone was shaking him. Intense\nlight almost blinded him as he opened his eyes, and he shut them\nhurriedly. He lay for a few seconds enjoying the luxury of the berth\non which he had slept. It had been long since he'd felt the yielding\ncomfort of a coil-pad beneath his body, or cool Lynon sheets against\nhis flesh.\n\"Rouse yourself, sluggard!\" The voice was mocking, familiar, rich with\ngolden overtones. \"Get that deficient brain of yours to working, lower\norder!\"\n\"Aladdo! You Venusian demon--where have you been?\" In his delight\nMark grabbed Aladdo's slender hands and almost crushed them. \"I was\nbeginning to think I'd have to tear this ship apart to find you!\"\n\"My hands!\" Aladdo exclaimed in alarm and withdrew them. But there\nwas shining joy in his smile. Perched on the edge of the berth, the\ntiny Venusian regarded the giant Earthman with laughing eyes, bluer\neven than the azure wings that hung like a cloak. But it was a subtly\ndifferent Aladdo; glowing and clean until the exquisitely chiseled\nface was like alabaster, the curling close-cropped hair blue-black and\ngleaming.\nDressed in a soft gray tunic and tight white trousers, the wings were\nvivid in contrast, almost iridescent. The tiny feet were encased in\nbootlets of red Ocelandian fur, and a belt of platinum links circled\nthe narrow waist, holding a holster with a small short-range atom-blast.\nSurprised, Mark flicked a forefinger at the weapon and looked\ninquiringly at Aladdo. \"They let you have this?\"\n\"Yes,\" the Venusian nodded. \"Remember, Bedrim was my father; I can\nbe most useful to them. Although my father's dead, there are still\nfollowers on three planets, ready at a moment's notice to rally behind\na leader. I could be that leader--or at least appear to be. I am a\nguest of honor on this cruiser--a prisoner, of course,\" Aladdo smiled\nironically, \"but shown every courtesy. I even have my own private\nquarters instead of sleeping here with the crew.\"\n\"But what is it all about, Aladdo?\" Mark was exasperated as the\nmystery grew. \"What's the purpose behind all this? Ruthless criminals\nsalvaged from a Venusian Prison swamp, and now this super-cruiser built\nto withstand anything! And who is that girl? I--\" But the Venusian\ninterrupted him.\n\"No time now. You'll learn everything presently. Dress quickly and come\nwith me.\"\n\"I'm dressed,\" Mark answered, springing up. He zipped on light,\ninsulated shoes and followed Aladdo to the main cabin. The rest of\nthe men were already there, clustered about the starboard ports in an\nexcited group. The light in this room was blazing. Mark could feel the\ngentle vibration of the atomomotors somewhere deep in the spaceship,\nand again the question overwhelmed him: where were they going?\nHe was soon to learn. Recklessly he gazed out into space. Instantly he\npivoted away, as if a gigantic hand had spun him. He had looked almost\ndirectly into the sun!\nIt was a sun vast beyond imagining, tongues of flame flickering slowly\nout for thousands of miles. He knew it was only the thickness of the\nCrystyte ports that saved the men's eyes. Slowly Mark's eyes became\naccustomed to the fierce glare and by shading them obliquely he could\ndiscern the object of the men's excitement--a dark little speck of a\nplanet sweeping in its orbit just beyond the sun's rim. It rapidly grew\nlarger as the spaceship moved inward on a long tangent.\n\"Mercury!\" Mark exclaimed, staring.\n\"No, we crossed the orbit of Mercury two hours ago.\" It was Aladdo who\nspoke beside him.\n\"Then, that must be ... but it's impossible!\" Mark laughed a little\nwildly. \"How long since we left Venus?\"\n\"Ten hours, Earthman. It is possible. That is the planet Vulcan.\"\n\"Unbelievable,\" Mark almost whispered. \"Why, it takes the fastest\nPatrol cruiser forty-eight hours to reach Mercury's orbit from Venus.\nLord! What sort of speed has this Spacer?\"\nBut Aladdo didn't answer. A door had opened and Luhor stepped in.\n\"Vulcan,\" he said tonelessly. \"As we approach, even the thickness of\nthese ports won't be enough. Put on these.\"\nHe handed the men pairs of Crystyte goggles, the lenses specially\nprocessed.\n\"Does this mean we're actually going to attempt a landing on Vulcan?\"\nMark asked the half-breed. \"It's madness! It has never been done!\"\n\"But it has been done.\" Luhor gazed at Mark frigidly. \"You merely have\nnever heard of it.\"\n\"Who's at the controls?\" Mark struggled to subdue the excitement in his\nvoice.\n\"Why, the Commander, naturally--assisted by myself.\" Luhor's vast chest\narched with pride. \"Observe closely, Earthman, and you will be treated\nto as masterly a feat of navigation as you're likely ever to see\nagain!\" His purple orbs roved over the men, clean-dressed, and rested,\nthe haunted look beginning to fade from their eyes. He nodded approval,\nas he turned and left.\n\"A base at Vulcan!\" Mark was repeating inwardly. And a cold fear at\nthis growing mystery grew apace within him.\nIt was not only a masterly feat of navigation--it was incredible as the\nhurtling spaceship continued along its tangent, until Vulcan, slightly\nsmaller than Mercury, came swinging around to bisect their trajectory.\nVery neatly, their speed was manipulated to allow the planet to come\nbetween them and the sun; then the great Spacer began to pursue a\ndirect course. Mark noticed that Vulcan kept one side eternally\nsunwards. Swiftly the spaceship approached the dark, outward side.\nActually it was not \"dark\" but it could be called so in comparison with\nthe molten sunward side.\nMark realized the almost insurmountable difficulty of keeping the\nSpacer on a trajectory, with the sun's tremendous gravitational pull so\ndangerously near; the slightest deviation now would send them hurtling\npast Vulcan and into that naming hecotomb. He knew, as well, that there\ncould be no atmosphere on Vulcan to help them brake.\nBut even as these thoughts were racing through his mind, Vulcan came\nrushing up at them with the fury of a miniature hell running rampant.\nIts surface was lividly aglow, with the flaming curve of the sun as a\nbackdrop blotting out the horizon. Suddenly they were leveling over its\nsurface, at a speed that to Mark spelled disaster. He saw the fore-jets\nflaming over a wide terrain of what might have been lava or pumice, but\nthat didn't seem to check their reckless speed at all. Directly ahead\nblack mountain ranges sheered upward as if to disembowel the ship on\njagged summits. Mark merely closed his eyes, awaiting the crash that\nseemed inevitable. No ship he knew could ever brake in time at that\nsuicidal speed.\nA terrific force jarred him to the floor. A profound nausea made him\nretch. Then Luhor was touching his shoulder, and Mark opened his eyes.\n\"All out, we're home!\" the half-breed grinned. \"You're lucky that the\nsynchronized magnetic fields minimize deceleration, Earthman.\" Doors\nwere opening, voices were drifting into the ship. The vibration of the\natomomotors had ceased.\nWhite-faced and shaken, the men debarked into a wide corridor hewn out\nof solid rock, into which the ship had berthed. Glancing back, Mark saw\nmetal doors of titanic proportions now hermetically closed; ahead were\nsimilar doors. Then he heard the deep, far-away throbbing of generators\nand he knew that he was in an air-lock built on a gigantic scale. A few\nseconds later the inner doors slid open.\nAs they walked forward Luhor turned to Mark with a proud smile. \"You\nwon't find _that_ type of navigation in the 'Advanced Principles,' eh,\nEarthman?\"\n\"No, indeed not,\" Mark admitted. \"But I still don't understand that\nbraking process!\"\nLuhor pointed to colossal sets of coils, in niches along each side of\nthe vast corridor. \"Synchronized magnetic degravitation fields; they\narrest mass and speed synchronously, finally stopping the spacer in a\ngraduating net of force. Similar coils to these exist for a mile along\nthe gorge back there, through which we came. Even so it is a very\ndelicate and precise process.\"\nThey stepped into a grotto so vast as to dwarf anything Mark had ever\nimagined. It extended for miles, sheltering an entire little city! Mark\nsaw rows of stone dwellings, stream-lined, ultra-modern. From larger\nbuildings came the sounds of blast furnaces and an occasional flash of\nruddy glow. Groups of workmen hurried past, glanced curiously at the\nnew arrivals but didn't stop to fraternize. And then Mark saw Carston.\nErnest Carston! One of the very highest men among the Tri-Planetary\nPrison Bureau officials! The surprise stopped Mark Denning in his\ntracks, but fortunately, thanks to his training, he managed to keep his\nface impassive as they recognized each other simultaneously. Carston\nflashed him a quick look that seemed to say, \"Later!\"\nThen the newcomers were marching in silence to a spacious building,\nwhere they were assigned rooms. The furnishings were simple, but\ncomfortable, and Luhor led them to the rear of the building where the\ndining-room was located.\nThey ate with the famished eagerness of men who had long subsisted on\ncompressed synthetic rations. Then they were issued cigarettes. To the\nmen who had been doomed on Venus only a few hours previously, it was\nlike awakening in heaven from a nightmare in hell.\nThrough Mark's mind ran an ancient saying: \"Eat, drink and be merry,\nfor tomorrow....\"\nStanding in the doorway, the girl of the unsmiling blue eyes surveyed\nthe new men silently. Her trim, aloof figure instantly commanded their\nattention, and their respect as well.\n\"I cannot waste words on you,\" she said abruptly, \"for my time is\nlimited. I know all of your names, so you shall know mine as well,\nalthough it will mean nothing to you. I am Cynthia Marnik, but you will\naddress me always as Commander. You will obey me implicitly in all\nthings here. Second to me, you will obey Luhor.\n\"All of you volunteered to come. Now that you're here, you are part of\nour scheme of things and you will work as hard as you did in the swamp.\nIt is dangerous work, but you will have ample remuneration. Idlers\nand grumblers will be done away with, I promise you. Your lives were\nforfeit in the swamp, and that is not altered by your being on Vulcan.\"\nShe paused as if waiting for objections, but every man was silent.\n\"Very well; Luhor will explain later what you're here for. Meanwhile\nyou are free to go anywhere you like within the city, but be ready to\nwork about eight earth-hours from now.\" As abruptly as she had come,\nCommander Cynthia Marnik turned and was gone.\nThe men smoked and talked among themselves, speculating what their\ntasks might be. The memory of the Prison Swamp was too recent for them\nto care much.\nMark rose quietly and stepped out of the dining-room. He'd noticed that\nAladdo was absent from the meal, and he wondered if his Venusian friend\nwas still an 'honored guest.' Deciding to inspect the city, Mark tried\nto retrace his steps to those buildings where he had heard the blast\nfurnaces; but at the first cross-corridor Ernest Carston stepped out\nand walked beside him. He smiled at Mark Denning, but held a warning\nfinger to his lips.\nThey walked in silence, while the corridors became rockier and more\ndimly lighted. At last, far away from the city, Carston stopped under\nan immense jutting rock and quietly gripped Mark's hand. There was a\nworld of feeling in his voice as he said barely whispering:\n\"I'd lost hope of ever seeing any of you again!\"\n\"How did you get here?\" Mark asked the question that had been burning\nin his mind. \"Did they pick you up at the swamp, too?\"\n\"Yes. We're both on the same trail--and here the trail ends.\"\n\"But I had no idea you'd preceded me,\" Mark told him. \"It must have\nbeen considered a far more important assignment than I was told, to\nsend _you_ to the Swamp!\"\n\"We didn't know, we weren't certain,\" Carston said thoughtfully. \"But\nwe received a bit of information which, if true, was of the greatest\nimportance. It seemed impossible, fantastic, but the hazard was so\ngreat, that even what amounted to a vague rumor warranted my going. You\nwere to follow in a few months, without knowing I had gone ahead. Well,\nyou already know most of the rest; but Earth's government doesn't even\nsuspect the deadly peril it will soon have to face!\"\n\"I'm afraid,\" Mark stated frankly, \"that there are a lot of gaps in\nwhat I do know. I can tell, of course, that something mighty big is\ngoing on here. But what was that bit of information you received?\"\n\"It goes back nearly a quarter of a century,\" Carston replied slowly,\n\"and concerns a man named George Marnik. He, and his young wife, were\namong the first pioneers to venture out to Callisto. Those were the\nruthless years, when the great Earth Monopolies stopped at nothing,\nwere very often lawless, and usually got what they wanted.\" Carston\npaused to light a cigarette.\n\"George Marnik,\" he went on, \"discovered one of the richest palladium\nveins on Callisto, and was developing it slowly. But--one of the\nMonopolies decided that it wanted Marnik's rich vein. In an ensuing\nstruggle with some of the Monopoly's hired hoodlums, Marnik's wife was\nburned down brutally with an electro-gun. She left a daughter, about\nfive years old, whom they had named Cynthia ... do you follow me?\"\n\"Go on,\" Mark said in a cold, dry voice.\n\"Well, after the tragedy, George Marnik disappeared. He was never heard\nof again--except by the Earth Monopolies. They heard of him plenty. He\nterrorized the spacelanes for years, and more than one Monopoly went\nunder, bankrupt by the incessant attacks on their ships by an enemy who\nhad achieved a ruthlessness greater even than theirs. It was rumored\nthat Marnik had vowed never to set foot on Earth again, and that his\nlife was dedicated to the destruction of the Monopolies. He almost\nachieved his task, except that the Earth's government finally stepped\nin and dissolved the Monopolies.\" Carston paused and drew in a long\nbreath.\n\"And then?\" Mark urged, as if fascinated by this saga of another day.\n\"Why, then as you know, Emperor Bedrim of Venus achieved his famous\nalliance with Dar Vaajo of Mars, and together they sought to end\nEarth's domination and exploitation of their planets. You know about\nthe bitter ten years' war--that's history. But when the Tri-Planetary\nPatrol was formed, during the truce that followed at the death of\nBedrim, half the Solar System was searched for George Marnik's base and\nthe rich plunder he was reputed to have there. It was all in vain. You\ncan now see why! The Patrol has never been able to land on Vulcan.\"\n\"But if I remember correctly,\" Mark Denning said reminiscently, \"George\nMarnik was certified as dead, as the years went by and piracy ceased.\nThe records gave no information as to his daughter Cynthia, she was\nmerely marked 'Missing.'\"\n\"Precisely!\" Carston assented.\n\"Then that vital bit of information you received must have concerned\nthis base on Vulcan!\"\n\"No. Worse! It concerned that George Marnik _was alive and planning to\nend the Inter-Planetary Truce, to loose bitter war upon three worlds\nagain_!\"\n\"Good Lord!\" Mark was stunned. \"But how? Venus and Mars were disarmed\nunder Earth's dictated peace!\"\n\"Yes, true. Mars is a small and dying race and not to be greatly\nfeared. But Venus has never become reconciled. You know their unholy\npride and their utter conviction that theirs are the greatest minds\nin our universe. Underneath the apparently peaceful surface, revolt's\nsmoldering.\"\n\"Revolt fanned by Marnik?\"\n\"Yes,\" Carston went on. \"If George Marnik did have some fantastic plan\nin mind, Venus would be the likeliest place for him to find backing\nand followers. On the face of it, it seemed absurd, of course. But\nwhen the supply of Venusian Pearls dwindled to a mere trickle, and a\ncriminal from the swamp was found dead millions of miles away, in the\nvicinity of Callisto, we knew then that there was a definite tie-up.\nIt was time to investigate. George Marnik, the last space pirate, _is\nalive_--an ancient, embittered wreck living on hate!\" Carston fell\nsilent.\n\"And Commander Cynthia, his daughter,\" Mark whispered musingly, \"is the\none in charge now!\"\n\"Yes. You wouldn't have believed it possible, eh? But remember, during\nthose reckless years when her father was the most hunted man in the\nuniverse, Cynthia grew up with him, constantly at his side, learning\nall the tricks of a master at piracy. She must share her father's\nhatred for a world that only brought them tragedy and sorrow. Marnik's\npsychopathic, of course, his mind's warped; she must share his views,\nalthough at times I wonder ... sometimes when I look at her....\" His\nvoice dwindled.\n\"So it all boils down to one thing,\" Mark's analytical mind had already\nabsorbed all the facts. \"That Spacer that brought us here is a menace\nto civilization. Its speed alone is beyond anything we have at present;\na fleet of them could wreak havoc on Earth's forces. Earth must be\nwarned at all costs, Carston!\"\nErnest Carston looked at Mark pityingly, lines of weariness and anxiety\ncreasing his face. \"Do you think,\" he said slowly, \"if there were any\nway out, I would be here? Vulcan and the Venus Swamp both have a thing\nin common: there's no escape, except through Marnik. Commander Cynthia\nonly carries out his orders.\"\n\"But she's a woman, Carston. If she could be made to realize\nwhat another Inter-Planetary war means--the awful carnage, the\ndestruction--perhaps she could somehow be reached!\"\n\"I wish that were possible!\" Carston exclaimed fervently. \"But she's\nlike a being that's hypnotized. George Marnik must dominate her\ncompletely, old and decrepit as he must be. Remember, it's the only\nlife she's ever known. He must be the only being she's ever loved.\"\n\"Have you any concrete knowledge of their plans?\"\n\"No. Only deductions. Dar Vaajo, ruler of Mars, was here three weeks\nago. Cynthia brought him. For hours he was with Marnik in the latter's\npalace. That can only mean one thing, of course. And then there's the\nnew metal. That is the real problem and the real menace!\"\n\"Metal? A new alloy?\" Mark Denning was all interest.\n\"Nothing so simple as that,\" Carston explained with tragic calm. \"A\nmetal unique in the universe! A new, _allotropic_ form of beryllium\nwhich _beyond a certain temperature reacts by hardening in direct\nratio to pressure and heat_! Once cast, it is literally heat and blast\nproof, and so light that it triples efficiency in relation to fuel\nconsumption. And George Marnik's building, has been building, a fleet\nof these Super-Spacers!\"\n\"I suppose they're mining that metal here?\" Mark's face was white.\n\"Yes, on the _sunward_ side of Vulcan! That's what swamp convicts are\nbrought here for.\"\n\"And I suppose either the ore, or the smelted metal's being shipped to\nsecret bases on Mars and Venus?\" Mark's voice was strained and opaque.\n\"Not yet, Earthman!\" The alien voice was at once like a whiplash and\nlike a fragment of music. Both men whirled about.\nOut of the shadows, as if emerging from the bizarre scene of tortured\nrocks and twisted cavern-walls, stepped a slender figure with pendant\nwings.\n\"Aladdo!\" Mark felt a curious tingling at sight of his Venusian friend,\nas he went forward with hands outstretched.\nIt was nothing compared to the shock mirrored on Carston's face.\n\"Aladdian!\" he too exclaimed, a mixture of despair and impotent rage in\nhis voice.\n\"Peace, lower order!\" Aladdo laughed, but hiding his hands behind his\nback as he addressed Mark. \"I shall not trust my hands to you again.\n_It is enough to have crippled wings!_\" The Venusian stared full into\nCarston's eyes as he uttered the last words significantly, and the\nlatter's face turned deep red.\n\"Are you still a guest? Where are they keeping you? I've missed\nyou....\" Mark turned to Carston, his face alight. \"Aladdo saved my life\nin the swamp!\"\n\"I'm staying with the Commander and her father. It is a small universe\nafter all,\" he added, turning to Carston, \"eh, Colonel?\"\n\"You know each other?\" Mark asked, surprised.\nCarston's face reddened and then paled. \"I'm a servant of my\nGovernment,\" he answered the Venusian stiffly. \"My duty is to obey, not\nto question orders, Princess!\"\n\"What is all this? What do you mean, 'Princess'? Will someone explain?\"\nMark was exasperated.\n\"Aladdian's the daughter of the late Emperor Bedrim of Venus,\" Carston\nsaid, then fell silent.\nA look at the Venusian's smiling face told Mark it was true. His own\nface was ludicrous, his mouth partly open, for the moment speechless.\nThen a dark flush of anger swept up like a tide to the roots of his\nhair.\n\"A girl ... a defenseless girl that's never committed a crime in her\nlife, condemned to that Venus Swamp! To the most ghastly, the most\ncruel living-death in the universe....\" Words failed him as he shook\nwith rage. \"What was Earth's Government thinking of? The Council must\nhave been mad!\" Mark Denning choked.\n\"Careful!\" Ernest Carston warned. \"Remember you're an Earthman,\nDenning. To question the Council is treason!\"\n\"Treason be damned, and the Council too!\" Mark raged. \"There are\nlimits! There's no reason for that Prison Swamp except greed. Better\natom-blast habitual criminals than to condemn them there; _that_ is\nworse than any crime!\" He towered above Carston, a formidable engine of\ndestruction, his face a mask of fury.\nThen a tiny, fragile hand was on his arm and the Venusian's calm voice\nrose in the brief silence, \"It is too late to remould the past. But we\ncan refashion the immediate future, Mark Denning.\"\n\"Can we? How? It seems that Marnik and Commander Cynthia hold all the\ncards!\"\n\"Not all,\" Aladdian shook her exquisite head. \"They have perfected\ntheir plans for the immediate future--but we can be _the element of the\nunpredictable_!\"\n\"You mean ... you're not in sympathy with their plans? That you won't\nserve as a rallying point to sway the masses of Venus?\" Carston looked\nbewildered. \"I thought when I saw you, that was the reason they'd\nbrought you here! We know that your people would revolt at a word from\nyou, Princess! That's what our Government feared.\"\n\"I know. And I will not lead my people to an hecatomb in space. But\nneither will the Earth continue to exploit my planet and debauch my\npeople. This time, there will be a peace and it will be equitable.\"\nAladdian had drawn herself to a full four feet eleven inches, and there\nwas an imperious note in her voice. Carston stood silent and grim.\nMark, looking at his Venusian friend anew, thought irrelevantly that,\nwith the spike-heeled sandals of Earth, Aladdian would be only slightly\nunder the average height of an Earth girl. He shook his head irritably.\nThis was no time to ponder inconsequential things.\n\"Aladdian,\" he said, \"do you know much of their plans and what is being\ndone with this new metal?\"\n\"Partly. We have discussed ways and means since my arrival here.\nGeorge Marnik is very impatient; I think he fears he may die before\nhe can see his plans carried through. First he will equip a fleet\nequal or superior to Earth's forces. Then he will take over Callisto,\nthe new Gibraltar, between the inner and outer planets, after which\nhe will complete an alliance with Venus and Mars. He does not plan\nto conquer Earth, he knows it would take years; but his scheme would\nbottle your planet, relegate it to the status of a minor power, without\ninter-planetary colonies, without outer revenues. Venus and Mars alone\nwould expand in the Solar System.\"\n\"For a while,\" Mark said laconically. \"Mars would never be content with\nanything short of complete rule, as long as Dar Vaajo lives! And the\nmetal?...\"\n\"It is smelted here under a secret process, and parts for the space\ncruisers and special rockets manufactured. Then they are stored in one\nof the asteroids where they will be assembled later into a fleet. That\nis all the data I have now.\"\n\"But this Luhor,\" Mark asked, \"what is his real status? Commander\nCynthia seems to trust him implicitly.\"\n\"She does,\" Aladdian replied. \"He's an old friend of George Marnik,\none of his trusted lieutenants from the pirate days. But he's a cold\ndevil--combines the worst from both Venusian and Martian. Don't\nunder-estimate him ... he can be deadly!\"\n\"I've had occasion to see that,\" Mark said dryly.\n\"They're all deadly in this deadly little planet!\" Carston said\nvehemently. He looked far older than his scant thirty years, his face\nwas bleak and haggard.\n\"But this is heaven in comparison with the Prison Swamp,\" Aladdian\ntold him coldly. She seemed to have a determined animosity toward the\nhigh-ranking Earth official.\n\"It wasn't I who sent you there!\"\n\"No. It was only your relentless pursuit that eventually resulted in\nmy capture,\" the Venusian answered, \"and it was only you who cut the\ntendons of my wings. Oh, I know--you were only acting under orders.\"\nAladdian was smiling again as she turned back to Mark. \"We had better\nall go back to our quarters now, but it would be best if we did not\nreturn together.\" She moved away, then added: \"Watch Luhor, Mark; I am\nnot sure, but I think he too is part of the 'unpredictable.'\"\nMark watched her slim figure, with the azure wings and tight-curling,\nblue-black hair, melt away into the shadows.\n\"I will see you tomorrow,\" her voice floated back like a golden molten\nstream.\n\"Only twenty-two men, Luhor?\" Commander Cynthia Marnik stood very\nstraight and very slim in the center of the air-lock, surveying the new\nmen plus a sprinkling of others, preparatory to the trip outside. \"Even\nless than the last trip!\" Annoyance creased a frown between her blue\neyes.\n\"All we can spare, Commander. Every available man's at the furnaces;\nyour father has ordered it so.\" Turning to the waiting men, Luhor began\nto instruct them in the operation of their metal surface suits.\n\"As you can see, they're two suits in one,\" he explained tersely,\n\"operating on the vacuum principle. Here's the cooling device between\neach metal sheathing. You'll have to bear more heat than you've ever\nendured, but don't get panicky. Here's where you regulate the oxygen\nflow into the helmet.\" He indicated a little dial.\nEach man was assigned to a wide, flat-bottomed sled which he was to\npull behind him. They were also equipped with curious, spur-like picks.\nMark failed to understand the reason for such primitive methods, but\nremained discreetly silent.\n\"You men who have made the trip before, help the new arrivals,\"\nLuhor ordered curtly. Mark noted that Luhor himself was not going to\naccompany them, but Cynthia Marnik was already encased in her suit.\nErnest Carston went over to help her adjust the helmet.\n\"I can manage quite all right, thank you,\" she said. But it did not\nescape Mark that her voice was soft and that she smiled at Carston.\nCarston came over to give Mark a hand. He smiled reassuringly through\nhis helmet's visiplate, then flicking on Mark's radio-phone, said\nbriefly:\n\"Stay close to me! I'm one of the veterans.\"\n\"Bring Vulc, we're about ready,\" the Commander's voice sounded\nstartlingly inside Mark's headpiece.\n\"Who's Vulc?\" Mark asked Carston in a whisper.\nBefore the latter could answer, there was a sudden unearthly rumbling\nbehind them. Mark turned, stared, then froze in his tracks. A huge,\nawesome apparition was lumbering in a straight line for the Commander.\nIt was vaguely human in that it possessed a head, torso, four limbs\nof elephantine proportions, and it waddled upright. But the human\nresemblance went no further.\nThe creature's skin, if skin it was, gleamed silvery metallic and gave\nthe impression of being fluid! It reminded Mark of nothing so much as\nan immense blob of mercury that might at any moment collapse into a\npuddle and spread over the floor.\nBut Vulc didn't collapse. He approached the Commander and stood\ndocilely waiting. She patted the creature's arm and then handed him\na package of something. Vulc rumbled his appreciation and poured\nthe contents into a gash that appeared in his face. Then he waddled\ncontentedly to a large sled and took up the reins.\n\"Wow! Where did you ever dig up _that_?\" Mark turned white-faced to\nCarston.\n\"Vulc? He's a native of this planet, but more than that, he's our\nambassador of peace!\"\nThe Commander's crisp voice made further conversation impossible.\n\"Single file, you men. Stay as close to each other as the sleds will\npermit. Carston, you stay in the middle, as usual, and watch out for\nthe Blitzees. If you men work hard, we should be back within ten hours.\"\nSilently the outer door of the lock slid open and the men began to file\nout, with the gigantic Vulc at the head. The brightness was intense,\nalthough they were on the planet's \"dark side.\" Shimmering waves of\nheat danced before them over the flat terrain.\nAt the very end of the line Commander Cynthia kept pace with them.\n\"What did you mean by 'ambassador of peace,' Carston?\" Mark had\npurposefully fallen into line next to him.\n\"Adjust your radio-phone to its shortest distance communication,\"\nCarston directed him, \"so it will be inaudible to anyone else.\" As Mark\ndid so, Carston continued, \"We couldn't get out the metal we're after,\nwithout Vulc. His home is on the Neutral strip where we're going--that\npart of the planet where the outward and sunward side meet. All of\nVulc's kin are there, and they resent us. They have attacked us before.\nWe bring Vulc as an evidence of friendly intentions; they have a speech\nof sorts, and Vulc's supposed to pacify them.\"\n\"What was it the Commander gave him before we left?\"\n\"Powdered metal, filings, and tiny scraps from the factories. That's\nwhat's in those big sacks up there on Vulc's sled--a peace offering for\nhis people.\"\n\"They subsist on metal!\" Mark Denning was aghast.\n\"Everything on this planet does--that is, everything native to it. And\nthey're impervious to heat, of course. If Vulc had not been captured by\nGeorge Marnik almost immediately after it was born, it would never have\nbeen conditioned to the comparatively cool atmosphere of the Base.\"\nIn silence they trudged mile after mile, following the same line of\nblack hills that housed their Base. Mark marvelled at how comfortable\nthe vacuum suits were, but he knew the real heat hadn't started yet.\nIt came presently, as they veered further outward from the hills. The\nheat increased steadily and became more intense than anything Mark had\never experienced. Perspiration dripped stickily within his suit. He\nwanted to wipe his face but couldn't; he could only shake his head to\nkeep the sweat from his eyes.\nBut there was no keeping the mirages from his eyes. In every direction\nthe terrain rocked and rolled under huge undulating hazes of heat.\nHorizons leaped at him in wave after wave, and fled away again. The men\nahead seemed to do fantastic dances.\nThey no longer trod on rock. The ground beneath was soft, white and\nleprous looking, powdery almost as dust. Mark felt it hot around his\nmetal-clad ankles. Now he realized the reason for the flat-bottomed\nsleds. He knew, too, that a spaceship could never venture over here and\nget back safely; compasses and magniplates and everything else would go\nhaywire. Peering ahead, he discerned Vulc's fantastic bulk which now\nhad turned a glowing cherry red! He shuddered at the thought of what\nwould happen to a man suddenly bereft of the protecting vacuum suit.\nOut of the silence, a vast rumbling sound rose like magnified thunder.\nMark saw Carston fumble with his radio-phone then peer all about into\nthe haze.\n\"Blitzees coming!\" he yelled into his instrument.\nEveryone stopped. Mark followed Carston's line of sight, but he\ncouldn't see a thing.\n\"Swarm coming from the left!\" Carston yelled again.\nThe Commander moved hurriedly along the line. \"Lie down everyone, face\nto the left! Upend your sleds and if you value your lives, stay behind\nthem!\"\nFor a second all was confusion as the men flung themselves to the\npowdery soil; then a metal barrier sprang up as the sleds came end to\nend. Still nothing could be seen.\nSuddenly then they came. The air was blue from crackling sparks as\ndozens of the Blitzees struck the sleds with the impact of bullets. A\nsound like the humming of millions of hornets was in their ears, as the\ngreater part of the swarm passed overhead. Mark had a confused vision\nof electric blue streaks that writhed and zig-zagged, landed and leaped\nagain, propelling themselves blindly. As suddenly as it had come, the\ndanger was over.\nThe men arose somewhat shakily. The ground about them was strewn\nwith the snake-like Blitzees. Mark picked one up and found it to be\nmetallic, about five inches in length, transparent blue in color. The\nhead was triangular, eyeless; along its back Mark felt a thin, wiry\nsort of filament!\n\"They're like living bolts of electricity,\" Carston told him. \"They\nseem to short-circuit themselves when they strike the sleds.\" The\ncaravan continued.\nHours later they arrived at their destination, a small rise in the\nterrain before them, covered with glittering crystals in huge,\nboulder-like lumps. The sides of the little hill was composed of the\nsame ore, apparently in limitless amount.\nBut as if guarding it against them, rows of redly-glowing Vulcs stood\nmotionless, elephantine, facing them. Mark couldn't tell whether they\nwere friendly or hostile. To him there was no expression to be seen\non those fluid heads. But Commander Cynthia's Vulc went over to his\nhenchmen and jabbered in rumbling noises, pointing to the huge sacks on\nhis own sled. Presently three of the Vulcs came over and snatched at\nthe sacks, opened them and grabbed handfuls of the metallic filings.\nSeemingly satisfied, the trio lumbered off followed by the rest,\nbearing the sacks.\nThe men began to work then, loading the ore on the sleds and breaking\nit with their small hand-picks. Even to have come here was bad\nenough, and to breathe was an agony--but to work, in this inferno of\nunimaginable heat and blinding glare, was a nightmare. More than once\nMark felt himself sway, and stood quite still until the dizziness\npassed. One of the men pitched forward and lay still.\nCommander Cynthia examined the fallen man. She gestured to Vulc who\ngrasped him and stretched him over the ore in his own sled. The\nCommander's face was drawn and white through the visiplate, and her\neyes were tragic. Mark was seeing evidences today that she was not\nentirely cold and heartless, as he had at first thought.\nIt seemed an eternity before they were through with their task. At\nlast the sleds were loaded to capacity, and they rested a while before\nstarting the return journey.\nThey could only pull the heavy sleds slowly now, and only the knowledge\nthat every mile brought them nearer to the Base, away from this\nsuffocating hell, spurred them on.\nAfter a while the Commander called a halt, and the men sank down\nagainst their sleds like puppets whose strings have been cut. There\nwas a strange absence of curses and rebellion against the appalling\nexperience they were undergoing; there was not enough strength left for\nthat.\nThen Mark saw Commander Cynthia suddenly stand up. Through the\nvisiplate her eyes were wide, and they mirrored horror!\n\"Up on your feet, every man of you! Test your oxygen tanks--quickly!\"\nHer voice was tense with suppressed emotion.\nSomething in her tone seemed to cut a path through the heat-ridden\nlethargy of their minds, for the men staggered to their feet, hands\nfumbling for the testing buttons.\nMark found his, and his eyes darted to the tiny dial inside his helmet.\nThe pointer swung and registered _one hour_. Frantically he pressed\nthe button again; once more the pointer inexorably indicated the same\nperiod of time.\n\"One hour!\" he breathed, stunned. That was barely a third of the\ntime it would take to return to the Base! Out of the dancing mirage\nbefore him the alabaster face of Aladdian seemed to float and smile.\nWith infinite, pain-laden regret Mark realized that unless a miracle\nhappened he would never see her again, and now for the first time it\ndawned on him how much he wanted to.\nAround him the men were milling in confusion, panic-stricken. Their few\nhours' stay at the Base had been like a brief taste of heaven, and life\nhad become precious once more.\n\"All of us can't get back,\" the Commander was saying. \"But there's\nenough oxygen among us to permit seven, at most eight, to do so. I'm\nwilling to draw lots with the rest of you. But decide quickly! Every\ninstant is precious!\"\n\"No!\" a man screamed hysterically, near the breaking point. \"I'd rather\ntake my chances....\" His voice ended in a hoarse sob.\nThen a strange thing happened. Ernest Carston, white-faced and\nunsteady, stepped forward.\n\"You can take my supply, Commander Cynthia,\" he offered. \"You need not\ndraw lots; let the men do that.\"\nShe waved him aside and shook her head, but her eyes softened\ngratefully. She glanced at the teletimer at her wrist. \"I will give\nyou men just thirty seconds to make your decision; otherwise I will be\nforced to make it.\"\nBut from the group came no decision, only sullen argument and frantic\nbabbling. Some of them measured the distance between them and the girl,\neying hungrily the atom-blast guns at either side of her wrist.\n\"What a woman!\" Carston murmured to himself, lost in admiration. But\nMark heard him.\n\"Yes, she is magnificent,\" he agreed in a dry croak. \"A pity all that\ncourage and....\" He checked himself and fell dully silent again.\nIt was then that Mark saw something or thought he did, far away,\nshimmering through the dancing heat. He wiped the sparkling dust from\nhis visiplate and strained his eyes desperately, praying that it was\nnot a mirage. He clutched at Carston and pointed.\n\"The hills ... are those the hills? _Our hills?_\"\nCarston nodded dumbly. At last he managed to croak, \"Yes, but the\nentrance is miles away ... at the other end.\"\n\"But there may be a chance! Remember Aladdian, the corridors--a\nhoneycomb of caverns? Commander!\" Mark turned up his radio-phone, his\nvoice drowning out the babble of the men. \"How far is that range of\nhills, Commander?\"\nShe followed his pointing arm. \"A little less than an hour, at its\nclosest point.\"\n\"And the system of caverns--how far does it extend? Aren't those hills\npractically honeycombed their entire length? We might find--\"\n\"Wait!\" The word came explosively, as her mind darted into the past,\ndown the corridor of years. \"Yes, I remember ... some of the caverns\ndid lead out to this side, and father sealed them to make the Base\nairtight....\" She gazed at the distant hills as if trying to recapture\na forgotten scene. And a bulky shape hurtled forward, clawing for the\nweapons at her waist.\nBut Carston had been watching. He thrust out a metal-shod foot and the\nconvict went sprawling ludicrously into the swirling white dust.\n\"Thank you, again!\" the Commander said in a whisper. \"This trip has\nbeen a revelation--in so many ways.\" Her face was as white as the\npowdery soil underfoot, and she was near collapse; but from some\nunknown source she still drew from enough strength reserve to maintain\nher authority. Hands on her atom-blast guns, she faced the men.\n\"Into line as before. We've got to make the hills in less than one\nhour. Leave the sleds. It's the hills or your lives!\"\nThe effect was miraculous. Suddenly they were docile, grasping at the\nslender hope she offered them and content to have her bear the burden.\nQuickly they fell into line, with Vulc leading the way again. The men\nneeded no urging; the knowledge that they only had one more hour of\noxygen was enough.\nIf their trek up to now had been a nightmare, this latter\nstage surpassed even the most secret refinements of a Martian\ntorture-chamber. In an agony of slowness the minutes lengthened and\nseemed to stand still. The low range of hills seemed to dance mockingly\nand recede into the distance beyond the horizon's endless rim. In\naddition now to the heat in their brains and the glare in their eyes,\ntheir lungs were tortured as they regulated the oxygen intake-valves to\nthe barest minimum.\nAfter an eternity in which even memory seemed to have fled, they were\nwalking on rock and the heat began imperceptibly to abate. Directly\nbefore them, the hills rose out of the torturing blaze. Cries that were\nlittle more than miserable croakings echoed through the radio-phones\nas the men broke ranks; they staggered on, holding to each other for\nsupport.\nMark looked around for the Commander, and saw her clutching at\nCarston's shoulder for support, while his arm was about her waist,\nhalf-holding her up. The girl disengaged herself and by sheer\nwill-power drove toward the base of the low-lying cliffs before them.\n\"Wait!\" she ordered.\nShe stopped, and the men halted behind her, weaving on their feet. She\nstared around us as if desperately trying to recall something deeply\nimbedded in the matrix of the past; then she veered to the right,\nwaving for Vulc and the men to follow.\nMark tested his oxygen tank and glanced at the dial again. It read \"ten\nminutes.\" It was a race with time which now, perversely, seemed to be\nrushing by on flying feet.\nThirty yards further, the cliffs curved in sharply. Rounding it, the\nCommander gave a glad cry. In the center was a gigantic metal door,\nhermetically sealing what had once been the entrance to a cave. The men\nstaggered forward, some of them clawing feebly at the barrier. Others\nsank wordlessly to the rocky ground. They weren't even sure that\nbeyond that metal wall they would find life-giving air.\nThe Commander had drawn both atom-pistols, and stood there surveying\nthe barrier as if paralyzed.\n\"What are you waiting for?\" Mark pressed forward. \"In minutes, the men\nwill be dying! Blast an opening!\"\nFor the very first time, Mark saw her hesitant, indecisive, as if\nunable to think. \"But the air ...\" she managed to gasp. \"It will escape\nfrom the caves, clear back to the Base! All those men there ... and\nfather ... their lives are more important than ours!\"\nIn those brief seconds Mark admired her. Despite the deadly threat to\nthe Earth she embodied, he admired her for her humanity and loyalty\nto the men at the Base. But there was no time to lose. He made her\ndecision superfluous.\n\"We've got to chance it!\" With a swift, darting movement he wrested an\natom-blast gun from her hand and discharged it steadily at the metal\ndoor, at a point just above the ground. A second later she was helping\nhim with the other gun. Instantly the metal turned fiery red, then\nwhite, and finally a circular section fell outward with a hissing rush\nof air.\n\"Dive in, men!\" With the dregs of a strength he didn't know he still\npossessed, Mark grasped the men and pushed them toward the aperture,\nhelped shove them through. \"Throw your helmets back!\" he shouted. \"In\nyou go,\" he told the Commander, and despite her protests he lifted her\noff her feet, almost handing her through the blasted entrance.\nOnly Vulc and Mark were left. As the Earthman crawled through, he\nmotioned for Vulc to follow. The metallic being dropped to all fours\nand pushed in his arms, his head, his massive shoulders. His sides\nscraped the still hot edges of the aperture. And there he stuck.\nThe men inside grasped his arms and pulled, but in vain. Vulc gazed\nludicrously from side to side and heaved prodigiously, but in vain. The\nVulcanian seemed molded to the hole.\n\"Wait! Tell him not to struggle, not to move!\" Mark was exultant as he\nturned to the girl. \"The air's no longer rushing away; if he'll only\nremain there until we can get back with equipment to seal that hole,\nthe danger's over!\"\nVulc seemed to be pondering; his limbs sprawled like a distorted\nswastika, and on his usually blank, fluid face was something like\nsurprise. In the dim recesses of his alien mind he could find no\nparallel to this.\nThe Commander spoke to him slowly, with desperate emphasis; reaching\ninto a pocket of her suit, she brought out another package of powdered\nmetal which Vulc promptly stuffed into his mouth. \"He understands,\" she\nsaid at last. \"But I'll leave one of you here with him, to be certain\nhe does.\"\nFor a while they rested, lying prone, helmets thrown back, luxuriating\nin the comparative coolness and the draughts of pure air. All were\nthirsty, their throats parched and aching. But the nightmare was over.\nPresently the Commander rose to her feet and gave the order to march.\nShe was almost her usual self again, detached, impersonal. But she was\nwhite to the lips and her eyes were electric as she said:\n\"Luhor will pay for this!\"\nShe barely breathed it, but Mark heard her. And he knew what she meant.\nIt was Luhor who had prepared the units of oxygen for the suits.\nUnder the dim illumination maintained even as far as these outlying\ncaves, the group went grimly on. Their passage through the tortuous\ncorridors was dotted by discarded vacuum suits. But no echoes drifted\nback to them from the activity of the Base.\nTwice they lost their way, ending up against blank rock walls and\nretracing their steps. But at last the inter-connecting tunnel chain\nbecame familiar to the Commander.\n\"She blames Luhor for the oxygen business!\" Mark murmured to Carston\nwalking beside him.\n\"Should!\" Carston exclaimed laconically, grimly. \"Aladdian warned us\nagainst Luhor, remember? There'll be hell to pay when we get back!\nAny monkey-wrench thrown into the machinery of their plans, helps the\nEarth. I hope....\"\nHe broke off, staring moodily ahead.\n\"She's far more human than you think,\" Mark Denning said softly.\n\"Yes, I noticed that today.\" Carston's voice sounded glad. \"It's only\nthe Spartan training she learned while cruising the spacelanes with\nher piratical father that keeps her up--that, and the old man's insane\nwill, driving her on through a sense of loyalty to him.\"\nThey were so near to the Base now that Mark expected momentarily to\nhear the clang of metal in the factories, the voices of workmen. His\nheart quickened at the thought of seeing Aladdian, and he forgot his\nweariness in embroidering upon that thought.\nBut the ominous stillness remained unbroken.\nThey entered the final corridor leading to the vast central chamber.\nThe Commander ran forward, with the anxious men close behind her. They\nentered the grotto. The subterranean Base extended into the distance\nbefore their startled, unbelieving eyes.\n\"What--\" Cynthia began bewilderedly.\nIt was a dead city, soundless and inert. Under the distant cavern roof\nit had the air of a ghost town drained of all life.\nMark's heart leaped into his mouth. \"Aladdian!\" he cried involuntarily,\nand his hands clenched in an agony of anxiety of helpless rage.\nCommander Cynthia was already running toward the palace, a deathly fear\nmirrored in her eyes.\nThe men had stopped uncertainly, too weary and exhausted to understand.\nThen driven by a single thought, they staggered off to their building\nin search of water and food.\nScarcely had the echoes of Mark's cry stopped reverberating, when from\nthe shadows of a transverse corridor emerged the elfin figure of the\nVenusian.\nAladdian gazed at Mark as if he had returned from the dead. She closed\nher eyes, swayed a little. Mark caught her in his arms. He too was\nsilent. No words would serve.\n\"To the palace!\" she finally breathed, gently disengaging herself.\nFollowed by Carston, they hurried to the imposing building where old\nGeorge Marnik reigned. Aladdian led them swiftly through the panelled\nouter hall, through the magnificent salon where the loot from many\nyears was a fabulous welter of wealth. Mark had no eyes for it now.\nThey did not stop until they reached the inner chambers and finally\ncame to George Marnik's room, where no one but Cynthia was ever\npermitted.\nLying grotesquely twisted on the priceless Martian tapestry that\ncovered the bed, the ancient pirate was dead. Cynthia Marnik was\nkneeling beside him, weeping softly. There was no doubt as to the\nmanner of his death. The pencil-thin opening through his temple could\nonly have been done by an atom-blast.\n\"Luhor,\" Aladdian said, indicating the wound with a gesture.\nThey withdrew, leaving Cynthia alone with her grief. The two men\nfollowed the Venusian girl to the immense palace dining-room. With her\nown hands she served them food and drink, asking no questions, uttering\nno words until their vast hunger and thirst were appeased. Then she sat\ndown.\n\"And so,\" she began without preamble, \"the unpredictable has entered.\"\nAt their rush of questions she held up a hand. \"Let me explain,\" she\nbegged. \"I can do it briefly if you are silent. After you left, Luhor\nordered every man here to go aboard the Spacer. He blasted down two\nor three who refused; you will find them in the air-lock. Previous\nto that, I heard him arguing with George Marnik. He atom-blasted\nMarnik from behind. I know, because I deliberately contacted his mind,\nalthough the effort nearly drove me mad; it is not easy for us to tune\nto an alien intellect, but Luhor being partly Venusian helped.\"\n\"The miracle is that he didn't take you with him,\" Carston ventured.\n\"You were too valuable to leave behind!\"\n\"When we came here yesterday,\" she said simply, \"I studied the plans\nof these caverns. When I learned what was in Luhor's mind, I hid in a\nmaze of abandoned corridors. They searched for me a while, but since\nhe plans to return, he gave up the search for the present. He had no\ntime to waste! The Patrol has been to the Prison Swamp; failing to find\neither of you, and learning of my disappearance, _Earth has mobilized\nits fleet_!\"\n\"How--how do you know this?\" Both men leaned tensely forward.\n\"Through the ethero-magnum George Marnik has in his laboratory\nhere--the most powerful receiving and transmission instrument I've ever\nseen, greater even than the ethero-magnum we have on Venus!\"\n\"So _that's_ how he kept always a step ahead of the Patrol,\" Carston\nmused. \"The scientists he used to kidnap from space-liners--he must\nhave forced them to perfect scientific inventions here!\"\n\"Yes,\" the Venusian girl nodded, \"but I haven't told you the most\nimportant part, Luhor's plan. If he succeeds, there will be no peace.\nHe has taken the men to the asteroid where Marnik's new fleet of space\nvessels are to be assembled. But worse than that--_they are also to\nfit gigantic rockets to the asteroid itself_! It is very dense, and\ngreatly pitted, which simplifies things. With the rockets of this new\nmetal he can guide the asteroid's course! It will be the terror of\nspace, literally invulnerable, with banks of immense electro-cannon and\natom-blasts, and cradling a swarm of the new Spacers!\"\nErnest Carston could only hold his head in his hands. Earth's greatest\nenemy had died in Marnik, but a greater, more ruthless one had arisen\nin Luhor!\n\"Go on, Aladdian, please,\" Mark's tones were reassuring.\n\"Luhor does not suspect that I contacted his mind. He believes all of\nyou have died in the wastes--I got that from his mind, too. Since he\nwill return, because Vulcan's to be the seat of his empire, and he\nwants me, we have time to plan how we are going to receive him. He's\npersuaded that the only living being on Vulcan now is a defenseless\ngirl.\" She smiled enigmatically.\n\"But that asteroid! That hellish threat to Earth!\" Carston was beside\nhimself.\n\"And to Venus, and Mars,\" Aladdian reminded him gently. \"It will take\nmonths for those rockets to be installed, Earthman. He will be here\nlong before that, I am certain of it--as only a woman can be certain.\"\nShe raised her eyes and gazed at the doorway.\nFramed at the entrance to the dining-room, Cynthia Marnik stood looking\nsomberly and dry-eyed. Aladdian rose swiftly and went over to her.\n\"My dear ...\" the Venusian said softly, a world of compassion in\nher voice. Cynthia smiled wanly and took the tumbler of water that\nCarston extended to her. She drank dazedly and then sat down with the\ninexpressible weariness of one whose world has come tumbling down\nabout her head. Aladdian darted to the kitchen and upon returning made\nthe Earth girl drink a cup of concentrate, then led her away, to her\nbedroom. \"You must sleep,\" Aladdian was saying softly, monotonously,\nwith a hypnotic cadence in her voice.\n\"I wonder if it will be safe to arm the men?\" Carston questioned\nthoughtfully, his mind grappling with the problem.\n\"That's a chance we'll have to take,\" Mark Denning replied. \"A few\namong them are not really hardened criminals, but are _politicals_, as\nyou know. I think they will all fight for us, provided we can offer\nthem freedom when, and if, we win.\"\n\"I can make them no promises not sanctioned by the Earth Council,\"\nCarston said stiffly. \"Remember, their lives are forfeit!\"\n\"And so will ours be, if you don't snap out of that single-track rut in\nwhich you've grooved your brain!\" Mark exclaimed acidly. \"Council or no\nCouncil, the Earth, Venus, Mars and the colonies must be saved! This is\nno time to quibble about ethics. A hell of a lot will be left of your\nCouncil if we don't stop Luhor!\"\n\"You startle me sometimes, Mark Denning. You do not sound as a true\nservant of the Earth State!\"\n\"Because to you,\" Mark said slowly, \"the State is the few decrepit\nmembers calling themselves the Council, and the top-heavy Government of\nEarth. But to me, the 'State' are the millions and billions of human\nbeings whose destinies are ruled by a self-appointed few, and who are\nnow facing even a worse slavery if we don't succeed in being what\nAladdian calls 'the unpredictable!'\"\nCarston's face flushed with anger. He drew himself to his full height\nas he said, \"I represent the Government of Earth, which rules the\nPlanets--and I am your superior officer!\"\n\"You're wrong!\" Mark Denning countered, rising too. \"I'm a free agent\nas of this moment, and recognize no superior. I'll not be hamstrung by\nrules and regulations which can't serve us now, Carston!\"\n\"No need to quarrel,\" Aladdian spoke placidly from the doorway where,\nunnoticed, she had been listening. \"Because only I and Cynthia can make\nterms with Earth, if we survive.\"\n\"You and Commander Cynthia?\" Carston exclaimed. \"Both of your lives\nhave been forfeit. I doubt if the Council will be willing to listen to\nany terms coming from _you_.\"\nMark Denning's face was stained by a dull flush, and he took a step\nforward; but Aladdian laid her hand lightly on his arm and stopped him.\n\"The Colonel belongs to the old order,\" she said very softly, \"it is\ndifficult for him to adjust himself to a changing universe. But this\ntime it is beyond his control.\"\n\"Why?\" Carston uttered the word grimly.\n\"Because through the ethero-magnum I have already warned Venus and\nMars. My planet is being mobilized. Mars will soon take the necessary\nsteps. But the most important reason of all, is that Earth has no\nmeans of landing a fleet on Vulcan, does not know the location of\nLuhor's asteroid, and _does not even suspect the existence of the new\nallotropic metal_.\"\nCarston looked baffled as the Venusian girl spoke, then turned to Mark\nDenning with the expression of a man who for once felt hopelessly lost.\n\"I can promise the men who aid us a fortune to each,\" Aladdian\ncontinued, \"and the leisure to spend it--on Venus. As for the Earth,\"\nshe said thoughtfully--\"only Commander Cynthia and I know the formula\nfor the new metal, and the location of the asteroid!\"\n\"I will talk to the men!\" Mark said with a finality that left no doubt.\n\"Let them rest for a few hours, then I'll see to it that they're on\nour side. I know how to rouse them. Wait until they learn that Luhor\nshort-changed them on oxygen! How much backing can you expect from\nVenus, Aladdian?\"\n\"To the last man,\" she said quietly. \"They have already seen me through\nthe ethero-magnum, and heard my story. I intercepted the Tri-Planetary\nBeam as the Earth broadcast, and transmitted our beam along their\nchannel. By the time Earth's Government set out their interceptor to\nneutralize my beam, it was already too late; the three planets are\nseething!\"\n\"And Luhor? Wouldn't he have picked up your beam on the Spacer and\nheard you?\"\nAladdian shrugged. \"He knows I'm here. The confusion created by my\nbroadcast only served to aid his plans for the moment. He has nothing\nto fear, as far as he knows. A war between the planets would only make\nhis conquest simpler.\"\n\"And knowing that,\" Carston spoke bitterly, \"you still broadcast your\nstory and let your image be seen! Do you suppose Venus will ever be\ncontent now with anything short of war?\"\n\"Yes, I do. We are intelligent beings, not Martian atavisms, nor do we\nhave your Earth's insane will to _Power_. We only want peace and with\nit freedom. But the game is ruthless, Carston, the universe is the\nstake!\" Aladdian turned to leave.\n\"Mark,\" she said gently from the doorway, \"Cynthia can show you where\nthe arsenal is located; you'll find every imaginable weapon. Also, you\nhad better study the combination that opens the air-locks, and the\nsynchronized degravitators. I suspect that Luhor will be back here\nsoon--_very soon_.\"\nSuddenly the terrific reaction of that day hit Mark with sickening\nimpact. He was hardly able to rise to his feet. Carston was slumped\nover the table; Mark went over and shook him gently, and somehow aided\nthe older man to his feet. Together they went into the fabulously\nfurnished salon, and unable to go any further, threw themselves on\ncouches piled with priceless rugs and embroidered scarves from the\nvarious planets. Carston instantly was asleep.\nDespite his utter weariness, Mark slept fitfully, awakening and\ndropping back to sleep as the hours passed in their eternal caravan.\nSomething clamored at the back of his brain, something he had forgotten\nbecause of the major crisis they'd had to confront on their return to\nthe Base.\nAnd suddenly he sat upright. The overhead lights had automatically\ndimmed, no one was stirring. With a shock, Mark had remembered Vulc and\nthe man they had left to watch him! He leaped to his feet, aching in\nevery bone, and ran to the building where the men were quartered.\n\"If Vulc gets tired of waiting and wriggles through that hole!...\" He\ntried not to think of the rest.\nHe burst into the building and roused the men. \"Up, on your feet,\nthere's no time to waste!\" His terrible urgency instilled them with a\nnameless fear, prodding them as nothing else would have done.\n\"Your lives are at stake,\" he told them bluntly, and reminded them of\nVulc. \"At any moment he might decide he's waited long enough. Who among\nyou knows how to repair that breach?\"\nThree of the men came forward. \"All right,\" Mark told them, \"hurry to\nthe shops and get what instruments and materials you need--but hurry!\"\nThe men could not return to sleep now, knowing that at any moment the\nBase's life-giving air might go rushing away. This emergency, following\nso close upon the other hardships of the day, seemed too much. Mark\nsaw that they were all very near the breaking point. Now was the\npsychological moment to speak to them, and by giving them the entire\npicture, lift them above the present crisis as well as inspire them\nwith hope for the future.\nCalmly he told of Luhor's treachery in giving them a short oxygen\nsupply, with the intention of murdering them all. Deliberately, with\ncalculated phrases, he aroused their hatred and thirst for revenge.\nMark paused, letting it sink in, giving time for their dark passions\nto reach a peak. Then he told of Luhor's asteroid, and the threat to\nthe planets. He dangled before their eyes the promise of untold wealth,\nand freedom on Venus for the rest of their lives. To give his promises\nauthority and weight, he made no bones about the fact that he was a\nhigh operative of the Tri-Planetary Bureau of Prisons--but he climaxed\nit with the guarantee of a blanket pardon from the Earth Council itself.\n\"You will see and hear the Council on the ethero-magnum, but we shall\nbe making the terms,\" Mark Denning said forcefully. \"There's no trick\nin this, you have everything to gain and nothing to lose! In the\nSwamp, your lives were forfeit; they were forfeit here on Vulcan too.\nI promise you wealth on Venus, and the freedom you'll never have any\nother way! Who's with me?\"\nHe need not have asked, for the clamor that answered him was\naffirmative and unanimous. Gone for the moment was their fatigue, as\nthey embroidered upon the possibilities of the days to come.\nNot until the trio returned from repairing the breach, bringing Vulc\nwith them, did the men return to their sleep with the first and only\nhope they had had in years. Only Mark Denning realized the trials to\ncome. These few men had been won over easily. Not so easy would be\nthe negotiated terms with Earth. The Earth Government had won its\ndominance over the System the hard way, only after a bitter ten-years'\ninter-planetary war, and it would not easily relinquish its position.\nThe days that followed were eternities to the little group left\nstranded on Vulcan Base. Nerves were taut and tempers were short. Every\nman there, as well as the two women, realized that their very lives as\nwell as the fate of the System depended on the day of Luhor's return\nfrom the asteroid.\nMark had aroused the men too well. They were impatient and restless.\nThey didn't want their freedom handed to them on a silver platter,\nthey wanted to fight for it. Aladdian had said Luhor would be back\nsoon--very soon. Mark questioned her about it.\n\"Even with that fast Spacer,\" Aladdian replied, \"it will take him\nseveral days to get out to that asteroid and back again. Cynthia tells\nme her father sent a crew of men there a month ago, to assemble the\nnew Spacers. Luhor will undoubtedly win them all to his side, and bring\nhalf of them back to continue the work here. Cynthia says--\"\n\"Cynthia seems to have confided a lot in you!\" Mark exclaimed with a\nsudden, unexplainable suspicion.\nAladdian smiled wearily, and slowly shook her head. \"You are demoted\nback to the lower order, Mark Denning,\" she said with a hint of the\nsame mockery Mark had known in the Swamp. \"Cynthia Marnik needs our\nhelp now. She only carried out her father's orders, but now that the\ndynasty is crumbling about her ears, she's bewildered and a little\nfrightened. Something else has happened to her too, for the first time\nin her life.\"\n\"What's that?\"\n\"Never mind,\" Aladdian said enigmatically. \"Ernest Carston knows.\nIt will turn out all right. Meanwhile you had better put the men\nhere to work, it will help pass the time. Goodbye ... Mark.\" Like an\nazure-winged elf she hurried back to the laboratory where she spent\nmost of her time.\nThat was the first instance Mark could remember when Aladdian had\ncalled him by his first name, and he liked it.\nHe called the men together and assigned them to posts at the furnaces,\nwhere they continued to turn out the metal that would be fashioned\ninto the super rocket-tubes. Earth was massing its fleet and Venus was\nmobilizing. Mark realized that if a truce could not be called, they\nwould need every one of the outlaw Spacers on the asteroid, and others\nas well. He took a few of the men with him to the arsenal, where they\nbegan to get every available weapon in readiness for the Tri-Planetary\nshowdown that was sure to come.\n\"Tell the men to stop work,\" Aladdian said to Mark two days later,\n\"then bring them to the laboratory. They have as much right as we\nto know what is happening. I have been working on the ethero-magnum\nsender, and I shall try to contact both Venus and Earth.\"\nThey gathered in the magnificent laboratory George Marnik had erected.\nHere, various machines were arranged in preponderant array, but all\nwere dwarfed by the imposing ethero-magnum in the center of the room.\nHidden atomomotors hummed a smooth and powerful threnody. The control\npanel, as tall as Aladdian herself, connected to huge coils of radical\ndesign which themselves led to the televise, a huge sensitized sheet of\nmetal reaching clear up to the ceiling.\nCarston, an Earth patriot to the end, watched these activities with\nmisgivings. But he was silent, curiously so, and Mark wondered at it.\nMark was soon to know the reason for Carston's silence, and to realize\nthat the Earth official did not give up so easily....\n\"I want you all to stand back against the walls,\" Aladdian said, \"out\nof range of the televise. Luhor may pick this up, and he must not know\nthere is anyone here but me.\"\nShe operated the dials quickly, surely, with tendril-like fingers. A\nfaint, far away voice was heard droning monotonously. \"Earth is sending\nto Venus now,\" Aladdian said, never once removing her gaze from the\ndancing dials before her. \"If I can intercept the Earth beam, I can get\nmy message to Venus through that channel, by drowning them out. I did\nit once before.\"\nThe sound of the voice increased, and words became distinguishable.\nThey were haranguing, dictatorial--undoubtedly one of the Earth Council\nspeaking to Venus. At the same time the huge metallic sheet above\nAladdian's head took on a silvery glow, and a wavering scene began to\nappear. The scene was a crowded city square, with thousands of faces\nupturned to a televise screen atop one of the buildings.\n\"That is N'Vaarl, Capitol City of Venus,\" Aladdian murmured. \"They\nare listening to the Earth broadcast. Now I will let them see me.\"\nAutomatically her hand reached out, and grasped a lever which she threw\ndownward. The atomomotors shrieked as they absorbed the increased\npower, and soon the sound rose above the audible. At the same time the\nEarth voice was drowned out, and the scene at N'Vaarl became very clear\nto the watchers in the room.\nOn the huge public televise screen at N'Vaarl, the image of Aladdian,\nPrincess of Venus and daughter of Bedrim the Liberator, became\nvisible. The crowd did not cheer, but awaited her message, knowing that\nat any moment the Earth would throw off the beam when it realized what\nwas happening.\n\"Greetings, my people!\" Aladdian spoke quickly. \"As I told you before,\nEarth is mobilizing its fleet and I know that you are preparing for any\ncontingency. That is well, but I entreat you not to act in any manner\nuntil you have heard further from me! There is a greater danger than\nthat of Earth! I am safe and well, I cannot come to you now, but soon--\"\nIn that moment the Earth beam ceased, and the scene on the televise\nblanked out. Aladdian turned with a satisfied smile to Mark and Cynthia\nand the others. \"It is enough that they saw me. My people will not act\nnow without word from me. I hope I shall never have to give that word.\"\n\"Aladdian,\" Mark spoke worriedly, \"isn't it a risk for you to broadcast\nat all? The Earth Government doesn't know your present whereabouts, but\nif they were to send out tracer beams and learn you were operating from\nVulcan ... well, it's true that no Patrol ship is equipped to land on\nVulcan, but they could bottle us up here--\"\nErnest Carston, who had been silent but eternally watchful, became\nsuddenly tense at Mark's words.\n\"They _have_ sent out tracer beams,\" Aladdian replied, \"but with\nthis instrument I can neutralize them all.\" Fondly she touched the\nethero-magnum by her side. \"Anyway, the immediate danger is not from\nEarth, but from Luhor. Let us not forget that! And I must warn Earth,\nmust make them understand.\"\nShe turned to the dialed panel again, and even as her fingers made\nswift connections, she continued to speak. \"It may not be easy to\nestablish a direct channel from here to Earth, but I think I have\ncompleted a new trans-telector beam on which George Marnik was working.\nIt should do away with the magnetic disturbance caused by our close\nproximity to the sun. We shall see.\"\nAgain the atomomotors whined and ascended the scale. This time, there\nwas a new exultant note. Minutes passed, then the overhead screen\nbegan to take on a hazy, shifting blur. Aladdian's fingers moved\nunerringly on the dials. The blur came suddenly, sharply into focus.\nCarston, standing against the far wall next to Mark Denning, leaned\ntensely forward, his eyes aglow. The scene on the televise was the\nEarth Council. Carston almost leaped forward in his excitement, but\nMark gripped his arm tightly.\nAladdian was speaking to the Council. In slow, matter-of-fact tones she\ntold of George Marnik, of the new metal, of Luhor and Luhor's plans.\nShe told of the asteroid and the fleet being assembled there, without\nrevealing the asteroid's position. She described the properties of the\nnew metal but was careful not to hint of its source.\n\"I seek to warn you,\" Aladdian's voice came fervent and clear. \"You are\nplunging into disaster. It is not my people I think of now, but the\nTri-Planet Federation! If you continue to mobilize your fleet I am not\nsure I can control the Irreconcilables among my people--I certainly\ncannot control Dar Vaajo of Mars, who is headstrong beyond reason. It\nwill mean an hecatomb in space, with Luhor holding his asteroid in\nreadiness for the final blow!\"\n\"This Luhor and the formidable asteroid of which you speak,\" came the\ncold, sneering voice of the Earth Coordinator. \"Tell us more of them.\nGive us the location of the asteroid.\"\nAladdian hesitated for an instant. \"No. That I cannot do.\"\n\"You cannot, because no such asteroid and no such metal exists! You\nwould try to frighten us with this story of a demon asteroid and a\nsuper space fleet! It would not be that you seek to gain time for your\npeople to rally to you, now that they know you have escaped the Prison\nSwamp? Or perhaps you need time in which to coordinate your resources\nwith those of Dar Vaajo of Mars! Let us advise you, Aladdian, that\nwithin a week the main body of our fleet will be at Venus, and it will\nnot go well with your Irreconcilables. We shall know how to handle them\nthis time, we shall not be so lenient as before! Perhaps, in order\nto spare them, you will wish to give yourself up to us, daughter of\nBedrim!\"\nAladdian's slender body grew taut as though struck by a whip lash. With\na single sweep of the control lever she cut off the beam. Dazedly she\ncrossed the room, oblivious to the murmurs of the others; her usually\nalabaster face was now chalk white beneath her curling blue-black hair,\nher lips were pressed tight but they trembled nevertheless.\nAt the laboratory door Mark caught her arm, walked beside her.\n\"Aladdian,\" he choked. \"I--\"\nShe became aware of him then, smiled up at him through her bitterness.\n\"Aladdian, I am--I just wanted to say--I'm sorry I'm an Earthman!\"\nShe stopped suddenly, faced him, took one of his hands in both of hers.\n\"No, Mark! Do not say that, do not ever say it. For you are more than\nthat ... much more....\"\nIt was night, and the overhead lights in the corridors were dimmed.\nErnest Carston tossed restlessly in his bed. He could not sleep, he had\nbeen unable to sleep since seeing and hearing the Earth Council on the\nethero-magnum.\nCarston arose, and dressed quickly. Silently he crossed the room to\nthe outer door, and stepped out into the corridor. He paced slowly,\naimlessly, his brow knit in deep thought. Finally he made a decision,\nand turned his footsteps in the direction of the palace and the\nlaboratory. He was still an Earth official; he had known all the time\nthat he would have to take matters here into his own hands.\nBefore he reached the corridor leading to the laboratory, however,\nhe heard the soft shuffle of footsteps. Carston leaped back into the\nshadows just as a lone figure emerged from one of the transverse\ncorridors. It passed very close to him, and he saw that it was Cynthia\nMarnik; her face seemed very white, and her steps were hurried.\nCarston's heart quickened a pace, as he followed her at a safe\ndistance, keeping to the shadows. She continued along the main\ncorridor, past the men's quarters and past the furnaces. With a shock,\nCarston realized she was heading for the outer air-lock.\nHe reached there in time to see the huge door slide open, then Cynthia\nstepped through, and the door closed. Carston waited, giving her time\nto leave the tunnel, before he followed. Finally he entered the tunnel\nhimself, having long since learned how to operate the mechanism of\nthese doors. Cynthia was gone; the outer doors were closed.\nCarston hurried down the long tunnel. The magnetic degravitizing coils\nalong each side were silent now, would remain so until the Spacer's\nreturn. Carston reached the racks of vacuum suits near the outer door,\nquickly donned one and was soon outside the Base.\nAgainst the sun-swept horizon, a hundred yards away, he could easily\ndiscern Cynthia's metal-encased figure. She kept close to the shadows\nat the foot of the low lying cliffs. Not once did she look back. A\nquarter of a mile further, she turned sharply, entered a narrow,\nsteep-walled canyon.\nPuzzled, Carston hurried forward. He reached the canyon and entered it,\nrealizing that this must be one of the few places on Vulcan's surface\nwhere there was anything simulating night; it wasn't really dark, but\nsort of a twilight gloom between the rock cliffs sheering upward.\nAnd he saw Cynthia. She hadn't gone far. Her vacuum-suited figure stood\nvery still, and she seemed to be staring up at the immensity of space.\nCarston crept closer, came very near indeed, until he could see the\nprofiled whiteness of her face beneath the helmet.\nCarston stared too, following her gaze. At first he didn't see a thing.\nThen, high on the horizon, out of the sun's glare, right between the\ncanyon walls ... he caught the bright blue glint of a star. He suddenly\nrealized what it was, and with a sharp intake of breath he whispered:\n\"Earth!\"\nShe must have had her helmet phones on. She turned slowly to face him,\nand Carston was startled at the clear-cut radiance of her face.\n\"It's the Earth, yes ... it's beautiful. There's no other place on this\nplanet where you can see it like that, and then only when the position\nis right. Sometimes not for months....\"\nCarston stepped quickly to her side. Cynthia averted her face, but\nnot before he saw the glint of tears in her eyes, and the lengthening\nglimmer of one that rolled down her cheek beneath the transparent\nhelmet.\nFor an instant, Carston was dumbfounded. Then a vast exultation surged\nwithin him. \"I knew it!\" he whispered fiercely. \"Almost from the first\nmoment I saw you, I sensed there was something artificial beneath your\nmask of hardness. This is it! You don't hate Earth at all, Cynthia,\nyou've never hated it!\"\n\"Yes,\" she spoke softly, her voice deepening. \"I've never hated Earth.\nIt was only father--\" Abruptly she stopped, and her gaze strayed to\nwhere the blue star shone like an aquamarine ablaze. \"I can't remember\nclearly; it's like a vague dream--but I have a dim vision of green\nfields and golden light, and clouds in an unreal blue sky; and trees\nbeside a wide lake, with a crisp tang of air, different from the air\nhere. To me, that's Earth. I was born there.\" Her voice faded, and as\nif from a great distance Carston heard her say, \"Oh perhaps it's just a\ndream.\"\n\"No, it's not a dream,\" Carston whispered, standing very close to her\nnow. \"It's part of you, it belongs to you! All Earthians feel that out\nhere, a yearning to get back. Cynthia, I've loved you from the very\nfirst ... didn't you know? Let me take you back with me, out of this\nmadness that can only mean death for us all!\" He stopped, at the sight\nof her upturned face, white and wan.\n\"I guessed. Yes, I know. I've been waiting a long time to hear you say\nthis. And I'd go with you, Carston, but how is it possible now? My\nlife's forfeit, you yourself said so!\"\nNow Carston was very sure of himself. \"No, my dear,\" he said softly,\ntrying to filter the triumph from his voice. \"Your life's not forfeit\nif you help prevent the carnage and destruction that Aladdian's mad\ndream will bring about. She doesn't know, she _can't_ know the awful\npower of Earth's fleet. Luhor's vaunted super-cruisers will be so many\nleaves scattered in the void. This allotropic metal on which his hope\nof invincibility is based, can be neutralized and destroyed!\"\n\"But how? What can we do?\" Cynthia's voice held a note of despair, as\nher hand unconsciously went out to his.\n\"We can give Earth the location of Luhor's asteroid, and the secret of\nVulcan!\" He said it so softly, so insinuatingly that it was little more\nthan a thought. \"I can promise you an absolute pardon, my dear--more!\nI can promise you honor for aiding Earth. The Council knows how to\nreward, as it knows how to punish.\"\n\"But Aladdian and Mark? Would it not mean death, or worse, for them\nboth?\" She shuddered, as a vision of the Swamp came before her eyes. \"I\ncould never condemn them to that,\" she thought aloud.\n\"With my influence, I can get amnesty for them--leniency at least,\"\nCarston said with the glibness of one to whom nothing mattered but the\nultimate task that must be accomplished at all costs. \"All Earth wants\nis to avoid another war. If we make it possible for Earth's fleet to\ncapture Luhor and neutralize the asteroid, I'm certain the Council will\npardon Aladdian and Mark.\" He pressed her hand confidently in both of\nhis.\nShe seemed to hesitate, but Carston knew she had already made up\nher mind. \"If you're sure you can obtain the pardon--and stop this\nsenseless war--yes--yes, my dear, I'll give the Earth Council any\ninformation you wish--\"\nHer voice dwindled and stopped as Carston took her into his arms.\nHe, himself, was white and trembling with the reaction of having\naccomplished his task. Over her shoulder he could see the twinkling\nblue dot of Earth. He smiled, and it was a very smug smile. His breath\nwas long and trembling, but his intense emotion at the moment was _not_\nakin to love.\n\"Soon, now.\"\nCarston's murmur echoed eerily against the shrill hum of the\natomomotors in the upper scales. The phantasmal glow of the selector\nscreens suffused the chamber. Selenic cells poured additional power\ninto the trans-telector beam as Cynthia's fingers trembled over the\nshining dials. Carston, standing beside her, was white-faced and tense.\nSlowly a shifting blur materialized on the huge televise of the\nethero-magnum. It focused, and the thin-lipped, ascetic features of the\nEarth Coordinator materialized in the immense Council room of Earth.\nThe Council in full session surrounded him. All were intent on their\nreceiving screens, on which Carston and Cynthia were reflected.\nCynthia stepped nervously aside, and Carston came forward. He bowed\nlow. Then his voice, hoarse with uncontrollable elation, rose in\ngreeting.\n\"Your Beneficence, and Elders of the Council! I am speaking from\n_Vulcan_, the long-sought base of Captain George Marnik, where I have\nbeen a prisoner for many months! But no longer. This,\" he gestured\nhesitantly, \"is Cynthia, George Marnik's daughter, for whom I beseech\nthe Coordinator's and the Council's clemency for the service she is\nabout to do.\"\nThen in slow and measured words Carston told in detail all that had\nhappened, beginning with his own release from the Swamp by Cynthia,\nrelating Luhor's murder of Marnik, and finally telling of the asteroid\nwhere Luhor's space cruisers were being assembled, and of the new\nallotropic metal being mined on Vulcan. Then he motioned for Cynthia to\ncome forward.\nThe Coordinator had listened in silence, his grim face impassive. Every\neye in the Council room was unwaveringly on the screen, and the silence\nlay heavy between two distant worlds. Slowly, Cynthia walked toward the\nethero-magnum sender, a sheaf of note paper in her hand. She smiled\nwanly, but confidently at Carston. Then in a colorless voice she read\nher mathematical figures giving the position of the asteroid in space,\nand the formula for the shortest approach from Vulcan, as the key for\ncomputation of the trajectory from Earth. Without animation, she gave\nthe formula for the allotropic metal process, and the secret of the\nentrance to Vulcan.\nThen she fell silent. As if she didn't know what to do, she turned to\nCarston and caught for a fleeting instant the smug smile of triumph on\nhis lips; but before she could comprehend its meaning, it was gone.\n\"Will ... will I be pardoned?\" Cynthia questioned aloud, more to\nCarston than to the Coordinator on the screen.\nBut the silence in the Council room of Earth persisted, as busy\nmathematicians already were furiously computing the mathematical\nformulae. A thin, contemptuous smile had parted the Coordinator's lips.\nIt was the first time Carston had ever seen him smile, and the room\nwhere he and Cynthia stood, although millions of miles distant, seemed\ncolder suddenly as that glacial glimmer came through the screen.\nCarston opened his lips to speak. \"Your Beneficence,\" he began--\nBut suddenly, catapulted from the deepening darkness of the corridors,\nan azure-winged figure with curved hands outstretched fell like an\navenging fury upon Carston's back! Dainty hands, suddenly transformed\ninto claws, dug like spikes of steel; a supple body too ethereal for\nstrength, now seemed made of metal as the Venusian girl attacked him\nwith a savagery that brought every man of Earth's distant Council room\nto his feet!\nClose on her heels Mark Denning had barely time to separate the tangled\nfigures. Carston's face dripped blood where Aladdian's fingernails had\nfurrowed deep. Cynthia seemed rooted to the spot. So incredibly swift\nhad it been, that the battle was over in seconds. Aladdian's eyes were\npools of fire as she faced the Council. Her streaming hair seemed to\nshimmer as she spat her venom into the screen.\n\"Very well, send your space fleet, you clumsy fools! Let your madness\ncondemn the planets to a bath of blood! Yes, you have the formula for\nthe allotropic metal--but what good is it to you without a source of\nsupply? You have the location of the asteroid--but do you suppose your\nfleet can stand against such a mobile fortress as Luhor will make it?\nBut it's a waste of words, I know I can never convince you. Only death\nand destruction can. But this I do tell you! Never, _never again_ will\nyou enslave Venus! Never again will you imprison me in that inhuman\nSwamp, and never will you land on Vulcan! For I have one weapon left,\none which only we of Venus possess. We have used it once on Mars, once\nin our history only, for we are not warlike. But before Luhor and the\nMartian hordes overrun my planet and _yours_ as he certainly can, I\nwill use this weapon, Earthian!\"\nOn the screen, the Coordinator's face was livid. \"Arrest her,\" he said\nacross the immense distance to Carston. \"In the name of the Supreme\nCouncil of the Tri-Planetary Federation, arrest her! Her life's\nforfeit!\"\nBut Carston stood motionless, pale as death, suddenly confronted by the\ngrim figure of Mark who gripped an electro-pistol in his hand.\nAt this veritable moment, out of the void, cutting in on the beam like\nthe disembodied cachination of some strange creature, wave upon wave of\ngigantic mirth poured on two worlds! And as every participant of this\ndrama stood tense, watching their screens, there slowly emerged the\nhalf-breed figure of Luhor, his gargantuan laughter still roaring in\nuncontrollable paroxysms.\n\"So that's it!\" Luhor managed to choke between spasms. \"What\nentertainment you have provided me with--and what information! And\nto think, Aladdian, that I'd planned to make you my empress. Why, my\nlittle dove has claws!\" he exclaimed admiringly. His immense, ugly bulk\ndominated the entire screen, as his bellowing laughter began again.\nThe Earth Coordinator, almost beside himself, threw a master switch;\nthe televise screens of two worlds flickered and went blank, the\npulsing whine of the atomomotors was like a dirge.\nCynthia passed a trembling hand across her eyes, and her gaze wavered\nbefore Aladdian's accusing stare. She glanced briefly at Carston with a\nslowly dawning wonderment, as if an awareness of his aims had begun to\nawaken within her.\n\"I--I'm afraid I've made a mess of things,\" she said in a slow, deep\nvoice. \"Ever since father's death, I seem to have lost my grip. I'm so\nsorry, Aladdian, I thought it was for the best; Carston assured me we'd\nbe pardoned....\" Her voice trailed off as she turned her face away from\nthem all.\n\"I should burn you!\" Mark Denning said to Carston in a cold, tight\nvoice, and Carston went white. \"You've managed to wreck our plans\nabout as completely as possible. If the Earth blasts Luhor out of\nspace, we face surrender or slow starvation. If Luhor wins, he can\nstarve us out or blast his way in here with his allotropic cruisers,\nnow that he's forewarned by you. Either way we lose--but I guarantee\nyou, Carston, _you_ won't come out of this easily!\" Each word was like\nice, and Aladdian nodded slowly at Mark's words, a strange light in her\nbrilliant eyes.\n\"We haven't lost yet, Mark.\" With a swift motion she crossed to the\nethero-magnum again, and turned it on. \"Remember, I have still a\nweapon. My people are behind me.\"\n\"But Venus doesn't have a fleet! Earth has seen to that.\"\n\"Wait.\" Her unerring precision brought the screen to life in a burst\nof light. A scene took place, alien, exotic--the imperial palace on\nVenus. A great crowd stood before it in silence, extending into the\ndistance, as if the park-like expanse had become a place of pilgrimage.\nIn eternal vigil all faced the televise screen that rose from the floor\nlevel to the top of the palace. Fantastic blue-green mountains filled\nthe background, dwarfing the small fragile figure that materialized on\nthe receiving screen.\n\"My people, I speak to you for the third, perhaps for the last time--\"\nThere was a world of yearning in the cello-like voice as Aladdian\nopened her arms toward them. A cyclonic roar burst forth in tribute and\ngreeting, but quickly died down as they awaited her message.\n\"When I last spoke, I told you not to act without word from me. I\nhoped I would never have to give that word, but now I fear I must. The\nhour is almost here. What I will ask of you, is the supreme sacrifice.\nYou know what that means. I, too, am prepared to make it. There is no\nother way. Many will die, but only that the others may avoid an even\nworse slavery than they now endure, and that we may attain our rightful\ninheritance, an equal place in the Planetary Federation.\" The voice\nrose like a stream of music, and tears were in Aladdian's eyes. \"The\nchoice is yours, my people!\"\nWhen the thunderous response had died down in waves of overpowering\nsound, Aladdian stood in silence for several moments; in silence, too,\nthe Venusian multitude remained with upturned faces. Mark had an eerie\nfeeling that a _Planet_ was in tune with the fragile, winged figure.\nWhen the connection had been broken, and once more the laboratory had\nreverted to semi-gloom, Mark turned to Carston and removed his weapons\nfrom him. \"I can't take any chances with you now,\" he said coldly,\n\"after what you've done. You wanted to become a hero in the eyes of the\nEarth Council. Well, from now on you'll dance to my tune.\"\n\"But not for long!\" Carston sneered openly, recovering his poise and\nconfidence. \"The game's up, Denning; you're a renegade to Earth and\nshall be treated as such. It'll be child's play for Earth's fleet to\nburn Luhor and his asteroid to a crisp. After that--\" He stopped and\ngrinned contemptuously.\n\"After that, we'll be taken care of?\" It was Aladdian who spoke,\nand her voice was soft like dark molten gold. \"Careful, Mark,\" she\ninterposed quickly, placing her hand on Mark's arm as his grip\ntightened on the electro.\n\"_I_ don't deserve any lenience,\" Cynthia said dully. \"I've been a\nfool.\"\nAladdian gazed at the Earth-girl with a universe of pity in her eyes,\nand a great understanding. \"No, my dear,\" she said softly, \"not a fool.\nOnly a girl in love.\"\n\"But you!\" she lashed at Carston. \"You shall reap the whirlwind; and I\nassure you, a Venusian whirlwind is beyond your ken!\"\n\"No sign of the asteroid!\" Mark Denning's voice was harsh as he\naddressed the restless group of men milling in front of the laboratory.\n\"We've picked up Earth's fleet, that is all; it's now proceeding beyond\nthe orbit of Mars. Come in and watch if you wish, but it may be hours\nyet.\"\nThe clang and clamor of the furnaces had long ago ceased, as Vulcan\nawaited the outcome of the space struggle that would mean so much to\nthem all. Since Carston's betrayal had become known, the men had\ndiscussed the situation from every angle. Paradoxically they hoped for\nLuhor's victory, so that _they_ could deal with the Martian half-breed.\nAt the very worst, death was better than Paradim, which surely awaited\nthem again if Earth won in this crisis.\nAs Earth's fleet in awesome array, advanced toward the asteroid's\nposition which Cynthia had given, Aladdian kept a ceaseless vigil\nat the televise. In far off N'Vaarl, the palace grounds were a sea\nof upturned Venusian faces intent upon their screen. Dar Vaajo sat\nbrooding on his barbaric throne on Mars, his craggy face dark with\npassion, thinking of the upstart Luhor who had wrecked his plans.\nWithin the austere Council chamber of Earth, the Coordinator paced\nto and fro before the screen, while the awed Council didn't dare to\nstir. It hadn't been hard for the ethero-screens of each world to pick\nout the flaming majesty of Earth's fleet, and they had followed its\nprogress for hours. The meteoric speed seemed a snail's pace, across\nthe respective televise panels.\n\"Look!\" Aladdian cried, spilling the cup of hot concentrate Cynthia had\nbrought to her.\nWith electrifying suddenness, the scene in the panel had leaped to\nvivid life. Concentric whorls of green, disintegrating light flashed\nfrom all units of Earth's fleet simultaneously, merging into a single\nappalling cloud that preceded the fleet itself. To the watchers, the\nspread of the light seemed slow, but it must have encompassed thousands\nof miles.\n\"But why?\" Aladdian breathed, even as she twisted the dials trying\nto center the scene more perfectly. \"They're not within hours of the\nasteroid belt, and they will only give their position away to Luhor!\"\nCarston, Mark and the others had come crowding into the room to\nwatch the scene. Carston whispered, exultantly, \"That green light is\nradio-active disintegrating energy! It merges with whatever it touches,\nunbalancing the atomic structure of metal. Wait'll they envelop Luhor's\nasteroid in that!\"\n\"Yes, I know it well,\" Aladdian murmured. \"They used it in the long war\nagainst Venus. But there is a neutralizing force now, which even Earth\ndoes not know. George Marnik developed it, right here on Vulcan Base.\"\nCarston's lips curled, but he said nothing. The sight of Earth's\nmighty armada sweeping forward on its mission had instilled him with a\nswaggering confidence. They continued to watch the scene in silence,\neven as the Earth Council and the people of Venus and Dar Vaajo on Mars\nwere watching.\nStill the Fleet swept forward. Minutes passed. The greenish half-circle\nof light preceded it, beating back the darkness, expanding unimaginable\ndistances as though reaching out greedy hands.\nThen suddenly Aladdian's words came true.\nFrom a point in space far in advance of the Fleet, a tiny white beam\nof light became visible. It reached out like a slashing saber, swiftly\nexpanding and closing the gap of darkness. It came from the asteroid\nitself, now revealed to the watchers for the first time--merely a tiny\ndark mass that seemed to move forward with infinite caution against the\nFleet.\n\"There it is!\" Mark breathed. \"Luhor's carried his plan through! He's\nmade a rogue asteroid of it, moved it clear out of the belt--\"\nWords ceased, as they watched the preliminary maneuvers. The asteroid's\nslashing saber of white touched the disintegrating power of the green.\nBut it was the green that disintegrated! Slowly, almost carressingly,\nthe pale beam moved across the advancing blanket of light. Where it\ntouched, the green dissolved magically as though it had never been.\n\"That's what I meant. The etheric inertia ray!\" Aladdian's murmur was\ntinged with exultation, as she sensed Carston standing beside her taut\nwith surprise.\nStill the Earth Fleet moved forward in battle formation, in staggered\nhorizontal tiers. Impelled by the terrific momentum, it depended upon\nmaneuverability to escape the impending danger. But, inexorably, the\nasteroid moved forward also, as if hungry to meet its enemy. Limned\nbehind its own ghastly light, it was revealed as a leisurely rotating\nmass of rock and mineral, with jagged pinnacles reaching out and deep\nblack gullies agape.\nA blinding lance of electric blue lashed from Earth's Flagship, like\na probing finger searching for a weak point. It stabbed Luhor's white\nray and ended in a corruscating upheaval of incandescent light. The\nasteroid was very close now; it seemed as if nothing could prevent that\nsidereal mass, some ten miles in diameter, from plowing through the\ntiers of Earth Spacers.\nBut in that veritable moment when disaster seemed certain, Earth's\nmassed fleet executed one of the most spectacular feats of navigation\nthe Universe had ever witnessed. The units literally _broke apart_ and\nmoved outward into a perfect cone-like formation, with the base, or\nopen end, toward the asteroid. Again the green radiance, from all sides\nnow, went out to envelop the asteroid in a glaucous sheath, as the dark\nmass drifted into the trap.\n\"This is it!\" Carston gloated hoarsely. \"Now watch your asteroid\ncrumble!\" The others said nothing. All were tense, as the tiny\nten-mile world entered the open end of the cone to what seemed certain\ndestruction. Now the white etheric inertia ray lashed out savagely\nagain, sweeping in swift arcs, but failed to dispel the concentrated\nwaves of green fire.\nThen from the surface of the dark world, Luhor's own space fleet\narose--six cruisers only, dwarfed in size by some of Earth's larger\nships. With blinding speed, the six allotropic cruisers headed for the\nclosing jaws of the trap.\nThe Earth Commander was not prepared for such acceleration. It was\nunbelievable. He had little time to think, as Luhor's cruisers blasted\nwith the raking fire of electro-cannon at close range. Three Earth\nships went hurtling end over end through the void, ripped from stern\nto bow. Impervious to the wild fire of Earth's Fleet, the allotropic\ncruisers plowed on. Two Earth cruisers at the jaws of the trap were\nunable to maneuver in time. Luhor's ships in a straight line hit them\nhead-on, plowed through them and out again, leaving behind a tangled\nwreck of twisted girders and scattered debris.\nLuhor's six ships were out of the trap now, and they wheeled in a\nmighty arc, hung chain-poised as though to watch.\nBehind, the now glowing asteroid erupted the real destruction. This had\nbeen Luhor's plan from the first. The balance of men taken from Paradim\nSwamp, left on the bleak little world to fight for their lives, now\nreleased hidden rocket tubes that blasted in perfectly spaced rotation.\nThe rocky world began to spin, as it plunged ponderously forward. Bank\nupon bank of electro-cannon lashed out like uncurled blue lightning.\nAtomite bombs burst among Earth's fleet which surrounded this deadly\npinwheel. In less than a minute Earth's vast armada was completely\ndisorganized, space became a shambles of ripped metal plates, twisted\nrocket tubes and blasted hulls.\nLike a livid, craggy corner of hell running rampant, the rogue\nasteroid spun faster and faster, spewing annihilation. But this was\nits death throes. The concentrated disintegrating glow had taken\neffect, and could not now be stopped. The craggy world began to\ncrumble in great masses of rock and metal like a leprous organism.\nThe few remaining units of the Earthian fleet tried desperately to\nescape the disintegrating lethal mass--but behind them now, at a safe\ndistance from it all, Luhor's ships barred the way. Pitilessly his\nelectro-cannon raked them, impervious to their erratic salvos. His\nFlagship with its impossible speed darted among them like a cosmic\nscimitar, until barely half a dozen of Earth's former armada were able\nto flee in scattered disarray.\nHalf a dozen, out of more than a hundred. Contemptuously, Luhor did not\neven deign to pursue.\nWhere an immense battle fleet and a dwarf world had battled for\nsupremacy in space, now only shattered metal fragments and a\ndisintegrated rain of mineral and rock remained veiled by cosmic\ndarkness.\nIt had been too much and too sudden for speech. Aladdian was on her\nfeet now, even she was still gripped by the awe of the vast debacle.\nMark watched Ernest Carston stumble dazedly from the Laboratory room,\nthe appalling horror in his eyes betraying how intimately Earth's\ntragedy was his. He'd sent them out there to conquer, and they had\nremained to die. No one spoke. The crowding men who'd hoped for a\nvictory by Luhor, even turned away before the magnitude of his power.\nThe laboratory on Vulcan reflected in miniature the shocked silence of\nfour worlds. They'd seen the mightiest armada of all time reduced to\nnothing in a space of minutes.\nAladdian was the first to act. With the same beam, through which they'd\nwatched the holocaust, she contacted Earth. She tuned the Council\nchamber where gray faces looked to the Coordinator in bewilderment and\nfear. But the Coordinator, stricken to the depths of his narrow soul,\nwas incapable of speech. In the oppressive silence Aladdian's winged\nfigure materialized on the screen.\n\"I greet you, Earthians, for the last time.\" Her molten voice had\novertones of sadness. \"You have seen your mighty fleet destroyed. Earth\nis defenseless. Luhor is on his way to Earth.\"\n\"How--how do you know?\" The Coordinator was moved to speech now,\ngalvanized into life by a more immediate fear!\n\"How? Because I am right now in telepathic contact with Luhor's mind.\"\n\"We shall fight to the end!\"\n\"Yes, I expected that of you. You would condemn Earth to the same fate\nas your Fleet. Awaken, Earthmen! No weapon that you have can destroy\nallotropic metal. You have seen Luhor's ships slice through your\nvessels as if they were paper. You're at his mercy now.\"\nAladdian allowed her words to sink while she widened the beam to\ninclude Mars and Venus as well as Earth, that her voice might carry to\nthe entire Federation.\n\"I am not speaking to you only, now, but to three worlds whose fate\ndepends on your decision. Agree to what I ask, and the danger from\nLuhor will be eliminated.\"\n\"What do you ask?\" The Coordinator's voice came through as a mere\nwhisper.\n\"Three things only. Absolute liberation of Venus and Mars, which means\nequal representation at the Tri-Planetary Federation Council. Complete\nabolishment of the inhuman Swamp of Paradim. And Venus to retain\nVulcan with its allotropic metal as a measure of final safety. Agree to\nthese points before the assembled peoples of the inhabited planets who\nare listening now, and Luhor shall never reach Earth.\"\nOn Mars and Earth and Venus her winged figures were reflected, while\nher voice cadenced in the ears of untold millions.\n\"First,\" came the Coordinator's voice, \"how are _you_ to prevent that\nfiend Luhor from pursuing his course? And second, what guarantees will\nwe have that Venus will not build more of the allotropic cruisers to\nattack?\" Although white and shaken, the Coordinator could still snarl.\n\"I will answer your second question first. As you well know, Venus\nhas never in all her history resorted to war. Rather than kill,\" her\nvoice became bitter, \"we submitted to Earth's cruel domination. We saw\nthe inhuman Prison Swamp spring into being, for greed of the Josmian\npearls; death and persecution for the sake of power. I even personally\nsuffered this!\" She held up her wings whose tendons had been cut. \"Yet\ndespite it all, history does not record murder by Venusians. _That_,\nEarthian, is your guarantee that we shall keep the peace. As to Luhor,\nI and I alone can stop him now. This is an offered chance you may take\nor leave. Remember, Luhor's fleet has ten times the speed of Earth's\nfastest vessel, and will be there sooner than you suppose. Think fast,\nEarthian!\"\n\"Think also,\" Mark interposed in a voice of steel, \"that here on Vulcan\nwe have the allotropic metal, the means to work it, and the men to\nbuild our own cruisers if we so desire!\"\n\"I accept,\" the Coordinator said sullenly. Despite his fear and\nhelpless rage, he could only envisage defeat and destruction should\nLuhor arrive at Earth. As for Aladdian on Vulcan stopping the mad\nhalf-breed, he did not see how it was possible; but he had nothing\nfurther to lose by agreeing. With a gesture, he ordered the Council to\ndraw up a pact.\nFour worlds watched the signatures grow one by one. Then, and not until\nthen, did Aladdian play her last card as she brought Venus into focus.\nThe single word was the last she uttered as she opened her arms. Her\npeople were ready. They knew the sacrifice.\nMillions of miles away an entire _Planet_, as if it had been a single\ncosmic mind, concentrated on Luhor's fleet. A mighty stream of thought\nflowed out, vast but intangible. Wave upon wave, directed by Aladdian,\nthe accumulated thought-vibrations beat ceaselessly upon the minds\nof Luhor and his men. And on Venus, slowly, here and there a winged\nfigure fell and lay still, its mind sapped by the prodigious effort\nthat knew no bounds. But the knowledge that Aladdian, their Princess,\nwho directed the combined flow, was under an infinitely greater mental\nstrain than any of them individually, gave them added inspiration.\nAladdian had long since made all the others, even Mark, leave the\nLaboratory. She maintained her vigil and efforts alone. On her magnum\nscreen, which had shifted to cosmic space, the six invulnerable vessels\ncontinued their purposeful route toward Earth. Serenely they sped.\nBut suddenly, with an odd twist, one of the Spacers plunged headlong\nwithout warning into a sister ship. Both exploded into a cataract of\nflame. Another wavered, wheeled, then plunged toward outer space at\nvertiginous speed, to disappear in a dwindling dot of silver. Of the\nremaining three, one began to fire broadsides against the others,\nthen rotated over and over out of control, while air-locks opened and\nfigures leaped out to instantaneous death in the frigidity of space. It\nwas a scene of silent horror.\nBut while scores died in space, hundreds died on Venus at the magnitude\nof the effort. Still the Venusian populace of millions concentrated in\npurposeful silence.\nA sense of madness unleashed stole into the laboratory room where\nAladdian stood alone, motionless and white-faced. She scarcely\nbreathed. Her blue eyes were dilated. On the screen now only one\ncruiser remained. Not until then did Aladdian move, her hand reaching\nout automatically to the dials. A second later the interior of Luhor's\ncruiser lay revealed.\nThe huge half-breed had held out to the last. He'd realized what was\nhappening, knew that the thought-power of an entire telepathic nation\nwas reaching out across vast distances of space, the ghastly vibration\nof madness battering against the brains of his men. Now even Luhor\nbegan to succumb, his brutal face contorted by spasms of demoniac\nevil. His crew of men around him were already insane. A few sobbed\nmonotonously on their knees, rocking from side to side. Others were\nalready dead. One crewman was absorbed in daintily flaying another with\na bright, keen penknife, while the rest were systematically destroying\nthe ship and each other.\nIn the midst of the scene, Luhor's face went suddenly grey and\nblank. He drew his electro-pistol and like a man possessed, used it\nmethodically about him until only he remained alive. It was then that\nAladdian used her last remaining strength, directing Luhor like an\nautomaton to the controls, where he remained frozen. The vessel heeled\nin space and changed course, heading away from Earth now, speeding\ndirectly sunward toward Vulcan Base.\nWithin the laboratory room, Aladdian swayed, her face whiter than\ndeath; she grasped at the instrument panel for support, but her fingers\nclosed on air, as she crumpled to the floor.\nShe was barely conscious of Mark and Cynthia and Carston seconds later,\nbursting into the room. And of Mark's face mirroring his anxiety as he\nhurried to her.\nIn the same instant she knew that her people's accumulative vibration\nhad reached an apex of power, and like an avenging fury was turning\n_their way--centering on one person in that laboratory room_!\nDesperately Aladdian tried to stop it, but she was too near exhaustion\nand too late.\nLike a concentrated, cosmic javelin of death, that stream of madness\nreached Carston alone. He shrieked but once, and leaped wildly, hands\nclutching at his temples; then he crumpled to the floor. He had been\nblasted to death as suddenly as if a gigantic atom-blast had drilled\nhim between the eyes.\nNot until then, could Aladdian rise wearily to her feet, assisted by\nMark. Sorrowfully she looked at the figure of Carston. Already on\nVenus, she knew, thousands lay dead, and perhaps hundreds more had died\nin this final vengeful effort.\n\"They could not forget,\" she said sadly, \"that it was Carston who\nhounded me throughout the System to result in my imprisonment at\nParadim; and that it was he who cut the tendons of my wings.\"\nShe still clung to Mark's arm, half-supported by him. But despite her\nutter weariness and all she had gone through, Aladdian still had eyes\nfor Cynthia, who stood there, a forlorn, shattered figure, staring down\nat the body of Carston.\n\"Do not mind too much, my dear.\" Aladdian's voice and heart went out in\npity to the Earth girl. \"In a short time you will forget all that has\nhappened here. Come with us to Venus, I know you will find happiness\nthere.\"\n\"With us?\" It was Mark who spoke, his voice a bare whisper of hope.\n\"Yes, Mark.\" Aladdian smiled at him, the impish smile he had known in\nParadim. Then from the recesses of her tunic she drew forth a gleaming,\niridescent pearl.\n\"The purple Josmian!\" Mark gasped. \"The one I found in the Swamp. I'd\nforgotten about it!\"\n\"I kept it for you, Mark, knowing I would need it for this moment. From\nlower species to middle order,\" her smile was impish again, \"is not bad\nfor an Earthman. Take the Josmian now, it's yours; with it I elevate\nyou to the highest order and--\"\nBut she said no more, for within Mark's arms she was deciding he wasn't\nmuch taller than the average Venusian; no, not a great deal taller, at\nall.", "source_dataset": "gutenberg", "source_dataset_detailed": "gutenberg -  Alcatraz of the Starways\n"},
{"source_document": "", "creation_year": 1937, "culture": " English\n", "content": "Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online\n               Europa was the only sanctuary for Earth's\n              doomed millions. Yet to hold it, Mark Lynn\n              had to fight his traitorous Overlords. And\n             he was destined to lose--for his weapons were\n            antiquated, his allies a fragile peaceful race.\n           [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n         Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n         the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\n\"Your business?\"\nThe Martian Proctor's parchment-like face was blank as he examined\nLynn's pass-card impassively.\n\"Since when are Internationals given explanations?\" Mark Lynn's dark\ngreen eyes glowed. \"I've been given none.\"\n\"In the Council Hall, humility's essential.\" The tall Martian drew\nhimself erect, arrogantly.\n\"See that you observe it, then.\" Lynn barked laconically and turning\nentered the tube, while the violet-eyed Planetarian gasped in\nincredulity.\nWhen the door of the tube in which he'd been transported opened\nsilently, Mark Lynn found himself before a blank, polished wall of\nBeryloy, but as he stepped before it, the wall slid aside to reveal an\naustere room of dura-plon whose walls were buckled in places, as if\nthey'd endured tremendous pressure; part of the room was marked off by\nberyloy cables, where a _bas-relief_ of man's progress had crumbled to\nthe floor and had not been removed as yet. The ceiling seemed uneven,\nthe polished expanse of floor was asymmetrical.\nAcross an enormous desk, now covered by a plotting chart, a figure\ndressed in the purple uniform of a scientist, with the golden cord of\nthe Psychologists, gazed at him placidly out of level hazel eyes.\nThe short-cropped hair that escaped the confines of the tight, silver\nkepis, was golden-brown, unruly, and the oval face freckle-sprinkled\nhad the serious expression of a precocious child.\nMark regarded the girl gravely, startled at her youth, although being\naccustomed to female scientists her sex did not surprise him. He\nremained silent, as the etiquette of 2,022 demanded when before the\nruling class.\n\"You've made a characteristic beginning, Spacer Lynn,\" the girl\nobserved coldly and gestured toward a visi-screen at her side. \"Was it\nnecessary to leave the Proctor frothing?\"\n\"At the moment, yes!\" Mark replied evenly. \"Martian arrogance annoys\nme, scientist.\"\nThe girl frowned slightly. \"I'm Doctor Fortun,\" she stated after a\npause. \"The Council has decided to honor you with a mission. It is a\nproblem particularly suited to your ... er ... talents; your record\nshows a rare agility of mind impossible to find among Civicans.\"\n\"That's because controls one, six and fifteen failed to affect me,\"\nMark said smiling, unconsciously displaying magnificent teeth, dazzling\nagainst the background of his space-tanned features.\n\"Because you're a ...\" the girl began irritably and then checked\nherself. \"No matter, Spacer Lynn.\"\n\"Why not finish it?\" Mark sat down, stretching long, sinewy legs\nuntil he sprawled relaxed and loose-jointed, so that it seemed even\nhis magnificent muscles would never be able to lift the great body.\n\"Atavistic, is the word.\" He grinned engagingly and hooded his eyes\nslightly as he appraised Doctor Fortun with undisguised admiration.\nThe young scientist reddened, but she continued in a quiet voice.\n\"You were selected because you evolved the expedient of taking\nInternationals on space exploration, in defiance of the Council Law\nthat no International can serve more than two years in one position,\nby simply shifting them to different levels of work on the Spacers,\nwhere they would be unlikely to contact each other, and, incidentally,\nmanaged to keep yourself as a Spacer long after your term had expired.\n\"Your record shows also that you circumvented the non-voting status\nof Internationals by organizing Civicans into groups to vote for the\ninterests of Internationals in exchange for confidential information on\nplanetary resettlement, so that they could obtain choice localities....\"\n\"There's a fundamental necessity of calling worn-out laws to the\nattention of the Council by evasion, when they refuse to listen,\" Mark\nexplained affably.\nDoctor Fortun straightened angrily, her hazel eyes gold-bright with\nannoyance. \"You were not summoned to discuss revision of existing\nlaws,\" she flashed. \"That impudence of yours hardly becomes....\" She\nwas at a loss for words. Belonging as she did to the highest hereditary\nrank in the realm, the smiling assurance of Spacer Lynn, three ranks\nbeneath her, and his frank insolence was a new experience to the girl.\nMark Lynn laughed joyously. The admiration in his eyes deepened.\n\"Thank the eternal stars!\" He exclaimed.\n\"Have you gone mad?\" The girl's voice was tight with fury. \"Dare you\nlaugh at a scientist?\"\n\"No, not mad--merely happy! First the Council calls me because being\n_International_ and beyond Civican control my individualism and my\nfreedom of action are useful; you, of course, approve. Then when I\nshow those very qualities, you're furious. And, I'm happy because ...\"\nhis voice dwindled.\n\"Yes, go on!\" Her words were sheathed in velvet, but her eyes were\nferal, like flaming topaz.\n\"Because it's paradoxical and shows you're still a woman--lovelier than\nany I've ever seen,\" he finished almost in a whisper.\nDoctor Fortun looked as if she were about to slap his face. Remembering\nthe dignity of a scientist in time, she gazed at Mark Lynn with a\nmixture of feelings. Finally, something of his infectious good-nature,\nof his open admiration touched her and she laughed quietly.\n\"You are right, Spacer Lynn,\" she acknowledged. \"For a moment I forgot\nI was a Psychologist--it's a quality about you that for an instant\nmade me feel less a scientist and more a ... but never mind. We'll be\ntogether for the Deity knows how long, and it's futile to begin by\nquarrelling. Lean forward so you can see this chart, I'll explain.\"\n\"We'll be together, did you say?\" Mark was delighted. \"Then give me a\ndozen problems!\"\n\"Yes,\" she replied dubiously. \"As a Psychologist I'll be part of\nthe expedition. You'll find that this one problem will be more than\nenough.\" The girl pressed a button on her desk and one of the undamaged\nwalls began to glow until it became an astro-map, a reproduction of\ncharted space. Each planet was indicated in relative size, and in the\nlower center, pulsing angrily a thin red line marked \"Comet\" seemed to\nbe approaching inferior conjunction with Terra.\n\"Is that the problem?\" Mark asked. \"Simple! When it enters Terra's\norbit, life on Terra ceases. Evacuation's the only possible solution.\nI knew that comet was approaching, but not being an Astronomer I\ndidn't compute its trajectory. Besides, being on Io is like being\nin exile--news hardly ever reaches us there. Will it destroy Terra\ncompletely?\"\n\"No, not entirely. At first, indications were that it would enter the\norbit of our system at such an angle that Terra would be destroyed.\nHowever, we've checked with the observatories on Pluto since then,\nand it has been determined that it will merely enter the field of\nattraction sufficiently to shift the axis to opposition. Of course,\nthis will render Terra unfit for habitation ... perhaps for a century\nor two ... therefore, as you realized, evacuation's the answer.\"\n\"I'm listening,\" Mark said earnestly, as the magnitude of the problem\nbefore them struck him. \"However, you're aware I'm not an astronomer,\nand the technique of evacuation could best be handled by the Council\nitself. I'm afraid I still don't quite see what my role's to be.... But\nwhatever it is, I'm ready.\"\n\"Turn your attention to this plotting chart,\" Doctor Fortun indicated\nthe map on her desk. \"These areas marked in red have already been\naffected. Tremors have increased and volcanic openings are occurring\nin these and these areas, never dangerous before. While you were on Io\nawaiting orders for another exploratory journey, we began to attempt\nresettlement of our _Civicans_ and _Ruralians_ on other Planets--even\ngiving them their choice of occupations and of planets ... quite a\nconcession you must agree.\"\n\"Quite!\" The irony in his voice seemed to escape her.\n\"We have succeeded in resettling two-thirds of Terra's population\non Mars and Venus, and a limited number on Mercury; this last world\nonly offered limited space at best in its twilight zone, and it was\nnecessary to construct subterranean cities beneath its dark side--the\nfrigid half--but that's another problem. Now, however, Venus refuses to\naccept any more Terrans and Mars has also closed its doors to us. Under\nexisting treaties they have no right to exclude Terrans, but we're\nhardly in a position to enforce them now.\"\n\"Hardly!\" Lynn agreed sardonically.\n\"The problem's further complicated by the innate characteristics of\nthis remaining third,\" Doctor Fortun paused, and gazed very intently\ninto the dark green eyes of the Spacer before she resumed.\n\"They're for the most part internationals, ruralians who originally\nrefused to undergo controls one and six, and were not condemned to\nPower Reserve because of the increasing need for Vitaminic Flora, as\nyou no doubt know that vibroponics, due to some peculiarity of the\nradiations are greatly deficient in certain vitamins. The balance\nare Planetarians from throughout the system who flatly refuse to\nbe repatriated. And, last but certainly not least, religious and\nphilosophic groups--the former, fanatical believers in _ancestrals_\nand atavistic cults, who chose to regard this cosmic tragedy as a\nmanifestation of Divine Wrath and devote their time to frenzied,\nmasochistic meetings and revivals. The latter have turned stoic, and\nchoose to see nothing in our civilization worth living for, claiming\nthat all incentive has been removed, consequently, they prefer to\nmeet their fate on Terra. In short, this last third is completely\nintractable.\"\n\"I'm amazed the Council's taken no measures!\" Mark exclaimed.\n\"Oh, measures have been taken, of course. The philosophers\nhave had rank and prerogatives--even when they had scientific\nhonors--nullified. The religious groups have had their food allowance\nreduced to the starvation point and all their privileges recalled.\nThe Internationals ...\" here she paused again as she regarded Mark,\n\"since they're free-thinkers, and the most dangerous of the lot, were\nordered to report for control-treatment under penalty of death. They\npromptly took to the fastnesses in the mountains and deserts by the\nmillions, and are existing on game and vegetables to be found in the\nnow abandoned regions. They are armed for the most part.\"\nMark Lynn was openly grinning now, but the girl chose to ignore it and\ncontinued:\n\"Unfortunately, our armed forces are too busy keeping order in the\nnew resettlements, or they would have been subdued long ago. The\nresettlements have been supplied with seed, tools, cattle, metallic\nsubstances, concentrated fuel, machinery ... in fact, everything\nnecessary for a successful evacuation. This last group would have\nbeen similarly supplied, they were even given a reprieve for their\ninsubordination and offered special terms--the Council can be\nmunificent!\" For an instant her voice rang with exaltation. \"But they\nabsolutely refuse evacuation, except....\"\n\"Except what?\" Lynn was all attention, sensing that this was the core\nof the problem.\n\"Except on their own terms!\" The young scientist exclaimed with a trace\nof bitterness.\n\"But why don't you permit them to decide what manner of death they're\nto have? What possible interest can the Council have in what to them\nis an atavistic, intransigent group that detests our system of planned\nexistence? If the prospect of a continuation of this civilization gags\nthem, even in another planet, then obviously their choice to remain and\ndie here should be respected.\" Mark's voice was very soft.\nThe limpid hazel eyes of the girl mirrored her shock at Mark's words.\n\"Impossible! It would be horribly wasteful. And, a distinct failure on\nthe Council's part. Those lives can be useful--the Council never fails!\"\n\"Amen!\" Mark Lynn exclaimed archaically. \"And where do I come in?\"\nThe irony of his present situation didn't escape him. That he, an\n_International_, a strata of the highly complex social order considered\nmost dangerous, should be called in to solve a problem of such\nmagnitude, involving (of all people) Internationals and intransigents,\nwould have been fantastic to anyone not acquainted with the subtle and\nat times Machiavellian methods of the Council.\nDoctor Fortun handed him a rolled, tissue-thin, metallic cylinder for\nan answer.\n\"Those are your orders from the Council,\" she said soberly. \"I'm but an\nagent, as you know. Just one among the scientists who will be in charge\nupon arrival. Do not read it now. It is final. Take this card, it's a\npermit to enter a scientific News-Casting Booth and scan all available\ndata for the past year. We know that out of the remaining third,\nroughly three or four hundred million at best will be transportable.\nThe balance are far too old to withstand the journey--their power\npotential is negligible, and in any case, they'd much rather die than\nleave. But it's the three or four hundred million transportables who\nare highly useful for the particular purpose of the Council, that\nwe must ... or rather,\" she smiled faintly, \"you must convince.\" She\nopened a drawer and extracted a gleaming metal disk. \"These credits\nwill be ample,\" she said, extending it to Mark.\nLynn's eyes widened. \"Ten thousand credits? I've had to work as many\nyears for that amount!\"\nDoctor Fortun smiled. \"May you live to spend them, Spacer Lynn,\" she\nsaid cryptically. \"Greetings!\"\nMark Lynn wanted to speak, to ask her social name, anything that would\ndelay his departure from her office. But he knew the interview was at\nan end even before she turned to the mass of figures and data on her\ndesk.\nSpacer Lynn threw a rapid glance around the room. They were still\nalone, but he knew that the entire interview had been minutely\nrecorded--the august body of scientists of the first order who composed\nthe Council took no chances, especially with Internationals, the\nadventurers, the pioneers who opened up new worlds for the maddeningly\nimpersonal efficiency of the Council to take over and remold. But Mark\ndidn't care. There was little that they didn't know about him, in\ndetail.\nMark Lynn in common with a few million others was a product of his time\nand station. One of the immense legion of war orphans that the constant\nand increasingly destructive warfare of the twentieth and twenty-first\ncenturies had left behind, he was automatically a ward of the Executive\nCouncil.\nNow that wars had finally been abolished as wasteful and inefficient,\nthe ultimate goal of the social order was \"Achievement.\" It had become\na religion. It was instilled into infantile minds with the first\ntoddling steps; it was propagated through a thousand subtle means; it\nwas a constant threat in the background of every living being under\nthe government of Terra. _Achievement_ was the inexorable law. It\nmight mean producing so many tons of vitaminic flora during a span of\nso many years, or perhaps the production of metallic substances, or\nthe exploration of so many worlds, as in Mark's case. Regardless of\nthe task imposed, its final, successful and unequivocal completion was\nthe \"Achievement\" for that particular being. And, woe unto him who\n_failed_ to achieve!\nIn Mark Lynn's case, having been given over to the International\nPolice for training as an astrogator and having finished his course\nwith brilliant honors, he had been given a first-class exploration\nrating, and trained in outer space navigation. Years of successful\ninterplanetary and outer space exploration and research had given\nhim an unequaled experience as an explorer. It was his duty to give\nthe Council implicit obedience--and to reserve his thinking for the\nproblems of unexplored worlds and outer space. The Council, Rulers of\nthe World State, frowned on thinking without directives, especially by\nthose beyond control, such as the Internationals, of which Mark Lynn\nwas a great leader.\nThinking led to individualism, and the latter to conflict of opinions,\neventually to become conflict of a far more deadly sort. The recent\npast was an unerasable record of promiscuous thinking; it had brought\ntoo many problems, social and economic--it was wasteful, slipshod and\ninefficient. So it became a matter of unalterable policy to train\neach individual rigidly in that station in life to which he was\nbest fitted, where he or she could function with maximum efficiency\ntoward achievement. It became essential to apply control \"one,\" which\ninstilled into the mental patterns a dreadful guilt of waste--whether\nof energy, credits or time, much as the ancient Puritans lived in the\nfear of their consciences and could never be comfortable or enjoy\nfrivolous moments or leisure. Control \"six\" became an obsession to\nachieve, subtly replacing the emotional complex of what in an earlier\nday was called \"ambition,\" until nothing, literally nothing could stand\nbefore that one, all-important goal. And finally, control \"fifteen\"\nbecame an absolute need for guidance, a pattern that subtly replaced\nthe instinct for security of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, so\nthat all problems, all crises were solved by the Council. An attempt to\nmake individual solutions, resulted in an awful sense of \"aloneness,\"\nof absolute insecurity that could drive a civican or ruralian to the\nverge of a psychosis. There were other controls, some major and\nsome minor, but these three, one, six and fifteen, were the three\nimperatives. Mark Lynn was impervious to them--he had to be to belong\nto the Internationals.\nWith the sealed cylinder in an inner pocket of his tunic, that boasted\na golden sun embroidered on the chest, Mark left the building and\nmade his way through the milling crowds in the streets. They were all\nhurrying to some individual task--office workers in the black gowns\nof their calling; artisans with wide, tooled belts. The violet-eyed\nMartian proctors who acted as guards, and the tiny, slender Venusians,\nwith their vari-colored wings and melodious voices. Scientists of\nthe various orders were hurrying to the transportation belts, while\ntechnicians in their bright blue tunics went in and out of different\nbuildings. There was no confusion, no disorder, despite the evident\nhaste.\nShops were closed, deserted or wrecked by earthquakes. Many buildings\nwere in partial ruins, others had huge cracks along the sides. Yet,\nfrom the public visi-screens posted along the street came glimpses of\nbeautiful scenes and soft, seductive music. A light powdery snow was\nfalling, and the wind danced a sara-band unchecked.\n\"Weather control stations must have failed,\" Mark said inwardly, and\nbreathed deeply, gratefully, the keen, icy freshness of the wind.\nAn old woman, a ruralian carrying a huge bundle, spied him and eagerly\ngrasped his arm. \"Greetings, International! Pray give an old woman\ninformation! I've farmed my allotment and _achieved_ ten years ahead\nof my plan, and now they tell me I must move to Venus! I don't mind\nthe moving--though I mistrust those winged creatures--but I'm old and\nvery tired. Does my moving mean I'll have another allotment to achieve?\nMust I clear Venusian land? Tell me International, if I'm assigned to\na freighter, will the gravs be likely to shorten what remains of my\nlife-span?\"\nMark laughed at the loud avalanche of questions. \"Peace, Ruralian,\"\nhe managed through his laughter. \"I doubt if you'll be required\nto _achieve_ another allotment. Didn't the government grant you\nsufficient credits for a new start?\"\nThe ruralian woman pulled out a package of rank, Venusian cigarets\nand contentedly puffed on one after lighting it. \"Yes, when the\nearth-temblors ruined my land and a mouth of fire finished it, a\nproctor came from the Council and gave me enough credits to last a body\na life-time, then told me to make my way to transportation. But I can't\nbring myself to spend those credits, International--its wasteful....\nI'd rather achieve another allotment. Why, I haven't bought a thing for\nfifty years that I could grow or make myself!\n\"I've been some time getting here from the Arizona sector, for the\nshakes disrupted the conveyor roads, and I lost a lot of things when\nanother mouth of fire pushed up where the road was and blew my cart\nto the four winds--It's a miracle I'm here at all! But about the\nfreighter, will the gravs....\"\n\"Ask for the sleep-freeze ... it will be given you, in any event. If\nanything, it'll lengthen your span, and the journey will seem like an\novernight trip to you. If you need directing, a proctor will assist\nyou. Greetings Ruralian!\" Mark tried to make his tones as kindly as he\npossibly could, but realizing the woman was eager to make conversation,\nhe ended the incident--he was still on duty.\n\"Greetings, International,\" she replied disappointed, and heaved the\nbundle to her shoulder.\nMark had not walked ten paces when instant correlation between his\nsenses, mental synthesis and muscular reaction made him swerve\naside, bending over at the same time. It had been the horror-shocked\nexpression in the eyes of a technician barely three paces before him,\nthat had sent the Spacer hurtling to one side, half bent over, bowling\npedestrians aside like ten-pins. A thin pencil of light flashed where\nMark's head had been seconds before. Mark had turned without pausing\nand he saw a tall International whose yellow tunic bore the red whorl\ninsignia of a conveyor-road inspector.\nMark's molecular rate was faster than any other strata, purposely,\nbecause of his calling, and to the spectators it seemed as if he'd\ntwisted, turned and flung himself into a prodigious tackle all in\none motion. The attacking International, fully as tall as Mark, went\ndown under the terrific impact, his atomo-pistol sailing through the\nicy atmosphere in a falling arc. But with the agility of a Martian\nHellacorium, he was up and snarling: \"Traitor!\" through clenched teeth.\nWith a cry of baffled fury he launched himself at Mark unhesitatingly,\none hand fumbling at his belt.\nBut Mark ducked, side-stepping. He was icy calm now, although the\nreason for this attack baffled him. Mark was in his element in a fight;\nthe International Police trained its wards to be fighting machines,\ndeadly in their efficiency. Explorers had to be!\nMark wheeled as the attacker hurtled past him and his straight left\nwent unerringly to the man's head, jarring him. Automatically Mark's\ntraining came to the fore, as everything else faded until it was only\nSpacer Lynn and a murderous enemy. Mark's right was a peg upon which\nhe hung the attacker's blasting blow, while he used the boxer's left,\nlong and weaving, throwing it swiftly like a cat sparring with a\nmouse dangling by the tail from its teeth. His left bounced off the\nattacker's chin. It was a little high, but the man rocked on his heels.\nThe killer rushed. Mark let his heels touch the ground, refused to run.\nThe attacker was too aggressive and eager for complete defense. Mark\ncaught him with a left and right and calmly took a murderous hook to\nthe belly without flinching, then he let his right hand ride, dropping\nit like a sledge-hammer. The attacker's face seemed to lose contour,\nits features blurred as the face went gory; his feet crossed and his\nknees went suddenly rubbery. The conveyor-road inspector fell with a\ncrash and didn't get up.\nMark became suddenly aware that two Martian proctors flanked him,\ndeadly atomo-pistols pressing at his sides.\n\"Silence and obedience, International! Follow!\" came the crisp, laconic\norder from the senior proctor.\nInstantly a visi-screen lighted and a cold, imperious voice directed:\n\"Remove the attacker, dispose as power reserve. Spacer Lynn proceed on\nmission!\"\nIn unison, the two proctors saluted and the atomo-pistols disappeared.\nIt was the voice of the Council, through some subordinate.\n\"The eyes and ears of the universe!\" Mark Lynn exclaimed ironically in\na whisper. The cometary reaction must have been psychological as well\nas physical to bring about crime in a social order where for centuries\nit had disappeared. Or had it? Mark wondered. How many secrets, how\nmuch factual data the Council kept from the people? No one would ever\nknow. But why try to liquidate him? He'd just arrived from years in\nouter space; surely he couldn't possibly have enemies on Terra! Was\nhis mission known? And come to think of it, just what was his mission\nactually? Meditatively, he tapped the cylinder in the inner pocket of\nhis tunic. Could _that_ have been the motive for the assault?\n\"Palanth!\" Mark Lynn exclaimed delightedly as he spied a dandified\nMartian leaning against a column of chrysophrase, upon entering the\nlobby of the International Police headquarters to report.\nTall and sinewy-lean, with the exaggeratedly narrow waist\ncharacteristic of the Martians, Palanth gazed startled at his companion\nof many adventures, from behind a silken square of Venusian-spider\nsilk drenched in the overpowering fragrance of Venusian Jasmines. Only\nthe violet eyes were visible, startling against the background of his\nflaming hair.\nIn the tight-fitting yellow tunic of an International, he resembled an\nancient, narrow-waisted cretan come to life, but for the flaming mane\nand towering height.\n\"Greetings! O bird of ill-omen, what malodorous wind blew you in\nfrom outer space?\" He dropped the handkerchief long enough to reveal\nchiselled nostrils and white even teeth as he smiled heart-warmingly.\nHe placed his left hand on Mark's shoulder, in the immemorial gesture\nMars reserved for the closest friends.\n\"One sec, Planetarian, while I check in,\" Mark grinned also placing\nhis hand on the Martian's shoulder, knowing how it annoyed the\nMartian to be called by a lower rank. Mark stepped into a booth that\nautomatically recorded his status as the visi-screen panel glowed into\nlife.\n\"Spacer Mark Lynn, Exploratory Astrogator First Class, reporting. Under\nsealed orders from the Supreme Council. Last station Io. Awaiting\nfurther orders.\" In a thousand departments that recorded global\ninformation and checked it in detail even psychologically, Mark's words\nautomatically became part of the endless record. But there was no\nanswer. The visi-screen faded to a smouldering green and went blank.\n\"Strange!\" Mark muttered to himself, stepping out of the booth. \"These\norders must be final.\" He touched the slight bulge made by the cylinder\nhe carried.\nCuriosity was beginning to needle him, but orders from the Council\ncould only be opened in absolute privacy, especially sealed orders.\nPalanth was waiting for him, the eternal handkerchief pressed against\nhis nose. A brilliant panagran, blood-red and flashing made a deep\nspot of color against his left ear-lobe. Everything about him seemed\nindolent, aesthetic, super-refined. And the exquisite fragrances from\nthe known universe with which he drenched his squares of silk, thanks\nto his mania against human odors, added to the foppish effect.\n\"Have you come to twist the tail of the comet, O thou especially not\nwanted?\"\nPalanth waved his handkerchief diffusing jasmines in the rich austerity\nof the lobby, as he lounged back against the column with a sigh that\nmight have meant anything. His yellow tunic--as near the color of gold\nas he dared, without actually being the hue reserved for the Supreme\nhead of the Council, shimmered like watered silk. His slender hands\nflashed with _acerines_ and _calchuites_.\n\"Breath-taking, as usual,\" Mark was grinning from ear to ear,\n\"specially that godawful jungle fumes you're soaked in ... arrgh! I\ncan't breathe!\"\n\"My only defense against you creatures,\" Palanth said languidly. \"I\nneed replenishing, Mark, shall we go?\"\n\"Lord, yes. I could eat an Europan.\" Mark checked himself as an\nodd tight expression came into his eyes, and his hand tightened\non something hard inside a lower pocket of his tunic. He fell\nunaccountably silent for a moment.\nPalanth strode beside him with a lithe, tigerish stride which belied\nhis now forgotten languid pose of a few minutes ago. His deceptive\nexterior--which many to their final regret had found could disappear\nlike lightning, still made him seem a Planetarian fop whom the Council\npermitted harmless foibles for reasons of their own.\n\"I never hoped to see you again after that crash on Europa.\" Palanth\nexclaimed with a relieved sigh. \"You're so reckless, Mark, and death is\nso permanent!\"\n\"Of course, _you_ are not reckless,\" Mark taunted with obvious irony,\nremembering how the Martian International could explode into action\nlike an enraged Martian Hella. \"In your superior wisdom, there's no\nreason to take chances--everything's planned in advance, logically,\ncoldly.... Bah. Do you recall that little incident on Venus when they\nserved you imitation Thassalian and that little Venusian baggage tried\nto dope you with....\"\n\"Cease! O chattering....\" Palanth interrupted as near being embarrassed\nas it was possible for him to be. The rest of what he said was buried\nin the perfumed handkerchief which he hastily pressed against his face\nas they joined the crowds that filled the avenue.\n\"But what are you here for? It is permissible to know?\" Mark asked\nsoberly at last.\n\"I may as well tell you,\" Palanth said, his tones muffled by the\nhandkerchief. \"You'd never have the imagination to guess!\"\n\"You probably have been appointed to regulate the last batch of\noutgoing freighters enroute to various space stations, in order to\nrelieve congestion and ease pressure of transportation. There may be\nsomething else ... eh?\"\n\"Master mind! But there's that last _something else_ that you'd never\nguess.\"\n\"Inductive reasoning tells me that a freight coordinator would\nbe assigned to freight problems ... let _me_ talk ... but this\nseems to be the last time that old Terra is going to send freight\nanywhere. I feel there's one last measure to be taken against the\nunpredictable--something calculated to checkmate a future result. Oh\nI know I sound as if I were talking gibberish, Palanth, but well ...\nit's still sort of foggy in my mind. I'll know more when I read my\norders.\"\n\"I've already read mine,\" Palanth said quietly. \"I'm persuaded they're\nnot very different from yours--in the last analysis. It's a gigantic\ngame, Mark!\"\n\"Then you know?\"\n\"Yes!\" It was almost a whisper, almost a telepathic assent. \"But here's\nour energy center, let's go on in.\"\nOnce within the vast dining-hall, known as an Energy Center, they\nselected a table and from the menu the number of the meal that suited\nthem, pressing the numerically corresponding stud on the panel above\nthe table. The food came on a conveyor belt that passed beneath the\nfloor and emerged from the center of the table which was hollow and had\na panel that slid aside as the food arrived.\n\"Well, what have you learned,\" Palanth asked Mark as they began their\nmeal.\nMark Lynn outlined what he knew and added a few conjectures of his own,\nand Palanth's face split gradually in a wide grin.\n\"A pretty mess.... How many of you flesh-eating mammals are there left\nto transport ... the irreconcilables, I mean, the dissenters.\"\n\"Roughly about five hundred million. They're an amazing mixture\nof Internationals, Philosophers and Ruralians--the three most\nindividualistic strata!\"\n\"It would be easier to ray them down, let the Comet wipe them out\nin due time, than to go to all this trouble of persuading them to\nevacuate.\" Palanth retorted coldly. \"Still, to my Martian mind, they're\nfar more valuable than your herds of controlled sheep--at least, they\ncan think for themselves!\"\n\"However, in a controlled, beneficent political economy such as the\nWorld State, any such benevolent treatment as raying them down, or\nabandoning them to sidereal extinction is outlawed,\" a quiet, mellow\nvoice said behind them.\nBoth Mark and Palanth looked up with a start to see the exquisite oval\nface with the serious, limpid hazel eyes of Doctor Fortun, in her\npurple scientist tunic. Palanth rose instantly and bowed, Mark was but\na fraction of a second behind him.\n\"It's a rare honor for Spacers to enjoy socially the company of a\nScientist,\" Mark said gravely, but his eyes were dancing.\n\"Probably just as well, if you express such unorthodox opinions\nfreely,\" she replied sitting between them at the table. \"However, we\nhave a long journey ahead, might as well begin to know each ... as\nwe really are.\" Her smile was an adventure, and when she turned her\nhead to survey Palanth with frank curiosity, Mark noted that her hair\nescaping the tight-fitting kepis was almost the color of dark honey in\nthe sun.\n\"A long journey....\" Palanth murmured as he picked absorbedly at\nsomething on his plate that resembled purple pop-corn. \"A long journey,\nwhere ... how, and to what end?\"\n\"What are you eating?\" Doctor Fortun asked almost too casually, instead\nof replying.\n\"These? Oh, candied violets,\" Palanth's languid pose had returned aware\nthat many eyes were upon him in the crowded energy center.\n\"Don't you have enough perfume as it is without eating it too?\" Mark\ngrowled.\n\"Peace, O spawn of unthinkable misfortune!\" Palanth said grandly and\nfilled his mouth with the delicacy.\nDoctor Fortun laughed aloud, it was like the tintinnabulation of\nclustered silver bells.\n\"Fraud!\" she exclaimed amiably. \"If I were not acquainted with your\npast record I'd think you were a fop. Does that pose ever fool anybody,\nPalanth?\"\nThe tall Martian grinned shrugging his shoulders. \"Who knows? _It's\nbeen so long since I've had adventure for a bride!_\" He quoted a line\nfrom the famous Terran poet of the twenty-first century.\n\"He's done it so long, it's become second nature with him,\" Mark said\ninelegantly. \"However, the perfume business is no pose. Wait till you\nsee his collection of extracts!\"\nPalanth glared at him, but remained silent. Just then a growing\ntremor shook the energy center, and one of the walls split from floor\nto ceiling. Their table fell with a crash and the hum of the food\nconveyors ceased. Voices rose in startled exclamations and the crash\nof other tables added to the increasing noise. A convulsive heave\nrent the floor and the continuous series of audio-pictures on the\nvisi-screen ceased abruptly.\nAfter what seemed an eternity, in reality seconds, the quake subsided,\nleaving wreckage behind and the pale, strained faces of the guests.\n\"Even here in North America, the very heart of the World State, the\nquakes are increasing,\" Doctor Fortun said thoughtfully. \"Our estimates\ngave us eight more weeks before the proximity of the comet neutralized\nastro-warp evacuation. It seems hardly possible, but there may be\nelements in the situation we have failed to calculate. I believe the\nsooner we complete evacuation the better it'll be.\" She glanced at Mark\nspeculatively.\n\"I suggest you read your orders this evening, once you're registered at\nInternational House, Spacer Lynn.\"\n\"That's my plan,\" Mark told her. \"And speaking of unknown elements,\nI'm still puzzled at being attacked by an International today. I was\nunaware that I had enemies on Terra. What could the motive have been?\"\n\"Attacked?\" Palanth was instantly alert. \"Why didn't you tell me, Mark?\"\nThe Spacer shrugged his shoulders. \"It was a minor incident--only, it's\nmystery bothers me. I've been taught there's no crime on Terra, and I\nam too unimportant for political liquidation.\"\n\"You forget,\" Doctor Fortun said softly, \"the profound dislocations\nbrought about by this unforeseen situation. Two-thirds of Terra's\npopulation have been evacuated. Another third--the most intractable,\nrefuses cooperation. There are many sympathizers in high places.\nIn the inevitable confusion, the efficiency of the World State has\nbeen impaired. What would have been impossible a few months ago,\ncan happen now. You're not only our chief explorer, but a name to\nconjure with among Internationals--your word has never been broken.\nBeing suspected of having become a subservient tool of the Council is\nenough for certain elements to consider you too dangerous to their\naims--therefore, guard your life, Spacer!\"\n\"But I'm not a tool!\" Mark exclaimed fiercely. \"My allegiance to the\nCouncil only involves my life--not the lives of others--I'll not\ndefraud them, dissenters or not!\"\nDoctor Fortun smiled quietly, as if contemplating some inner scene. The\nbrilliant hazel eyes were veiled and whatever activity went on behind\nthe smooth forehead was masked. The confusion within the Energy Center\nhad subsided, and the guests were leaving now in orderly fashion, but\nas fast as possible.\n\"It's time to exit,\" the girl said casually. \"Pity we were interrupted\njust when we were beginning to really know each other.\" Suddenly her\nmanner changed as with what seemed an unconscious gesture she removed\nthe tight-fitting cap and her hair fell about her shoulders with the\ngleaming patina of dark gold. Her smile had the demure sweetness of an\nembarrassed girl, her eyes were soft and luminous as she gazed first at\nMark and then at Palanth.\n\"There's a strato-cruiser of the first order leaving at six for a\nresort on the gulf of Mexico--Havanol--it's perhaps the last time we'll\nhave a chance to see it. Shall we ...\" she hesitated, \"shall we dine\nthere?\" Rose mantled her cheeks and her long lashes swept downwards as\nshe made the suggestion.\n\"Havanol!\" Mark was enchanted. \"Martian music and food to tempt\narchangels ... but how can you and I enter Havanol? It's open only to\nspecial permit!\"\n\"You're not by any remote chance forgetting me?\" Palanth inquired with\nelaborate irony. \"I've never seen Havanol, besides, I'm sure Doctor\nFortun would like to use some Parnassin for the occasion.\"\n\"Parnassin! The perfume of the butterfly orchids of Venus! Why,\nPalanth, it's worth more than _calchuites_--it's the rarest, the most\nunattainable of extracts!\" Doctor Fortun clasped her hands in ecstasy\nat the very thought of it. Then her rigid scientific training asserted\nitself. \"But I couldn't wear it, it's like evaporating a fortune in\ncredits within a few hours,\" she said unhappily.\n\"Bother, control 'one,' forget it for one memorable night!\" Palanth was\nexasperated. \"I know its antidote--and I have it!\" he said savagely.\n\"So have I,\" Mark said grinning.\n\"_Thassalian?_\" the girl was startled. It was the forbidden Martian\nliquor of the Gods. It could achieve almost miraculous cures when taken\nin tiny doses; it gave the sensation of ineffable happiness, and when\ntaken to excess, it drove the addict hopelessly insane.\n\"We still haven't solved the problem of the special permit,\" Mark\nreminded them.\n\"I have one for a party of four, which I haven't used as yet,\" Doctor\nFortun said with a hint of shyness. \"You'll have time to read your\norders and then I'll pick you both up at International House in my\nhelio-plane. Agreed?\"\n\"Agreed!\" Both Mark and Palanth said fervently. They watched the\nslight figure of the girl as she made her way through the crowds with\nprecision, her purple tunic vivid against the white carpet of fallen\nsnow. \"Her mind was well guarded!\" Palanth thought aloud.\n\"It is a mind of power, or I would have contacted it,\" Mark barely\nwhispered without moving his lips.\n\"Still, there can be nothing at Havanol that we can't cope with,\"\nPalanth shot a powerful telepathetic vibration at the Earthian Spacer.\n\"Have you had the feeling of being under spy-ray, Mark?\"\n\"Yes, for months ... but I've guarded my mind, and as you know, the\nCouncil's spy-ray is not quite effective on those beyond controls one,\nsix and fifteen; we're beyond conditioning for penetration by their\nmental synthesis. At times they're able to obtain partial ideation\nwhich they reconstruct and reform into thought-pattern trends--but\nhell! our thought-trends and individualistic patterns have been known\nto them all our lives. However, we are being used as tools--indirectly!\"\n\"We have no proof, Earthman! In any event, within certain limits we are\nstill free agents. Their orders may be one thing, what we do ... is\nanother. This cataclysm has shorn the World State of most of its power,\non Terra at any rate. Mars and Venus would sweep the resettlements off\ntheir planets if the Terran fleet weren't constantly on guard!\"\n\"Havanol may give us an inkling of what the game is!\" Mark observed.\n\"The whole secret lies within the reason for evacuating the\nirreconcilables. The Civicans, Guildians, Technicians and Ruralians\nare merely the base of the pyramid; between them and the Scientists\nthere's a gap that must be filled by the Internationals and the\nPhilosophers--without pioneers and thinkers in the abstract, their\nrule's static. Their scheme, whatever it is, fails without us.\" Mark\nwas telepathically communicating with Palanth his conclusions as they\nneared International House.\nPalanth's violet eyes narrowed in amusement. \"They no doubt have\na surprise for us in store--how poetic that we should be the ones\nto surprise them!\" The Martian waved his perfumed kerchief and the\nsparkling iciness of the breeze was scented with fresh jasmines.\nMark's hand tightened on the hard object he carried in a lower pocket\nof his tunic. It seemed to him as if an immeasurably distant vibration\nreached the very top of his brain where the most difficult thinking\nis done. It was a fleeting thought, the barest sidereal whisper, that\nwas gone almost the instant it impinged upon his mind. Could the final\nanswer lie there for them?\nWith Terra gone, or made uninhabitable, they would be homeless\nchildren of space, unless they subjected themselves to the prosaic,\nuninspiring existence of the planetarian settlements, limited by space,\nrigidly under Council control--their lives but pawns in a gigantic\ngame that was planned for centuries to come with a cold, mathematical\nimpersonality that reduced life to a mechanical phenomenon. Mark\nshuddered slightly.\n\"Yes, Palanth, poetic justice indeed! Come to my apartment at\nInternational House, I want to tell you a story ... the story of what\nhappened on Europa when I was Mark the daredevil, recorded as Hugh\nBetancourt--the surname of my Mentor before I earned my rank and the\nright to use my own name. Jim Brannigan was my second in command, when\nhe crashed our ship on Europa....\" He was smiling with a distant look\nin his eyes.\nLater, they met Doctor Fortun.\nShe was still sheathed in the filmy tunic of silver-violet she had worn\nat Havanol. The fragrance of Venusian butterfly-orchids was a faint\ninvitation to desire. But her firm, capable hands at the controls, sent\nthe luxurious helio-plane hurtling through the stratosphere at a dizzy\nspeed above a continental cloud bank.\nDawn was beginning in a young flood of opalescent fire; the ship was\ndipping and the clouds were swirling. Doctor Fortun sat silent with an\nenigmatic smile on her lips. Mark Lynn didn't speak lest he break the\nspell, while Palanth leaned back in his mullioned seat, eyes closed,\nrecapturing the past memorable hours.\nAt last the terrain became visible.\nIt seemed only seconds and they were hovering above the immense\ninterplanetary field where vast spacers awaited launching. Built to\naccommodate hundreds of thousands, their titanic proportions dwarfed\neverything around them. Doctor Fortun touched the controls of her\nhelio-plane, and instantly the ship veered and aimed straight for one\nof the spacers. She flicked a lever and locked the controls. Calmly,\nshe released another lever, and the robot pilot took over. She leaned\nback with a sigh, her shoulders slumped, silent still.\nMark Lynn's eyes widened. \"What are you doing! We'll crash against that\nSpacer....\" He leaped to the controls but the locking mechanism had\nbeen set for arrival and could not be unlocked until the ship came to a\nstop. At the urgency in his voice, Palanth jerked forward wide awake,\nin time to glimpse the cavernous proportions of the starboard port of\nthe interplanetary spacer yawning open to receive them.\nAs it entered the stupendous spacer, the helio-plane decelerated\nsuddenly, coming to an abrupt stop that pressed them back against\ntheir ultra-padded seats as if a gigantic hand had pushed them back.\nInstantly the spacer's port closed automatically without a sound and\nvari-colored lights flashed within the ship. A bell rang shrilly,\ninsistently somewhere.\n\"Strap yourselves immediately and push that small lever on the side of\nyour seats, it'll convert them into couches,\" Doctor Fortun directed\nhurriedly. \"Prepare for launching!\" She herself was already busy\nconverting her own seat and then strapping herself. From a pocket of\nher tunic she took a tiny box and opening it took two pellets which she\nswallowed; within seconds she was unconscious. Mark reached over and\ntook the box from her nerveless fingers. \"Vanadol! For those who do not\nwish the sleep-freeze, Palanth! Do you want any? Or will you withstand\nthe gravs?\"\n\"Neither, I'll submerge my conscious mind and thus preserve everything\nthat occurs in my subconscious without suffering the effects of\nacceleration.\"\n\"So will I,\" Mark agreed. His dark green eyes were lambent with fury.\n\"We've been tricked very neatly, old Spacer. We're going somewhere,\nwilly-nilly. The first trick's theirs!\" He gazed at the unconscious\nform of the girl with a mixture of sorrow and anger. \"The same old\nstory on a higher plane,\" he whispered to himself. \"A memorable\nnight--and the next day shanghaied into space! I wonder if the ancients\nstaffed their crude water vessels in this manner?\"\nAs they submerged their conscious minds, a buzzer vibrated throughout\nthe interplanetary spacer, a tremor went through the beryllium alloy\nmonster and suddenly it catapulted into space on the astro-warp,\nrobot-controlled until beyond the gravitational pull of Terra. The\ntiny Helio-Plane, tiny in comparison with the titanic spacer, hung\nsuspended in a special craddle to minimize still further the effects\nof 2g's acceleration. Doctor Fortun and the two Internationals were\ntoo valuable to take chances. But the incongruous three were beyond\ninductive thinking as the \"Stellar-Virgin\" leaped away from Earth.\nThey didn't hear a mechanical voice order: \"Free fall into orbit\nthree.\" Presently the ship settled into the warp. After a while, the\nsame mechanical voice ordering: \"Free fall into orbit nine.\" Presently\nthe Space Drive took hold as the interplanetary cruiser warped out into\nfree space. The normal gravity plates began to function and instantly\nthe pressure ceased.\nColor returned to Mark Lynn's face, he was the first to awaken.\nFrom where he lay, he could see the still form of Palanth, a fallen\ndishevelled giant, and the fragile figure of Doctor Fortun, pale as\ndeath and as still. A pang of pity shot through him, then remembering,\na surge of anger made his eyes grow cold.\nLeisurely he unstrapped himself and stretched, then went over and\nunstrapped his two companions. \"Well, we're together, for better or for\nworse,\" he sighed. Just then Palanth shuddered and opened his violet\neyes; at sight of Mark he sat up abruptly, passing a dazed hand over\nhis eyes. Then he saw the still unconscious form of Doctor Fortun and\nrecollection came to him.\n\"She's still asleep,\" Mark said softly. \"Let her rest, we'll have ample\ntime for explanations.\"\nSuddenly Palanth laughed. \"Shanghaied, by Jupiter's Red Spot!\" He\nsearched assiduously for his eternal kerchief. \"Ah, here it is ...\"\nthen remembering, \"My extracts! All my fragrances that have taken years\nto collect, left on Terra!\" He cursed venomously in five interplanetary\ndialects until he was out of breath.\n\"Magnificent!\" Mark commented admiringly.\nPalanth subsided into smoldering fury, his great eyes almost black, the\nchiselled nostrils quivering. To him it was an appalling loss.\n\"Go on, don't stop now,\" Mark urged him grinning. \"Later, when she\nwakes up, you won't be able to mourn your perfumes; now's your\nchance, besides I'd like some of those remarks for my own collection,\nPlanetarian!\"\n\"You'll find them in your private quarters awaiting you in the Spacer,\"\na wan voice said wearily. \"I feel as if I'd been mangled,\" Doctor\nFortun sighed tremulously. Both men turned toward the girl, but her\nslender body had not stirred, the eyes were closed, only a tiny, tired\nsmile hovered on the curving lips.\n\"Didn't know you were awake!\" Mark reddened at the recollection of the\nlurid language.\n\"Praise be to Antares. My extracts ... where are they, where are my\nquarters ... let's get out of here!\" Palanth could think of nothing but\nhis priceless collection. \"Without them I'd have to condition myself to\npollution!\"\n\"You're not very complimentary, Martian!\" Doctor Fortun chided, her\nhazel eyes flickered open and she sat up. The girl surveyed Mark Lynn\nwith calm, clear eyes. \"What, no violence, not even recriminations?\nWhat an utterly erroneous conception the Council has about you\nInternationals,\" she observed, and waited for Mark to speak.\n\"We don't indulge in futilities, Doctor Fortun,\" Mark replied. \"But\nperhaps you can give us an inkling of what all this is about; I think\nwe deserve at least that much, Scientist!\"\nThe girl seemed to meditate in silence. An odd, half fearful, half\nashamed expression flitted across her features. \"Yes, you deserve a\ngreat deal more than I can offer you, Spacer Lynn. But I'm afraid I\ncan only give you another unpleasant experience to chalk up against\nme. It's all part of a pattern agreed upon even before you and your\ncompanion arrived on Terra. It was thought that only your influence on\nInternationals and Philosophers could persuade them to evacuate--they'd\nbelieve you, where they would never trust the Council. It was necessary\nthat you be seen on Terra--when you entered the Council building, it\nwas visi-screened in detail throughout the World State; your encounter\nwith the attacker on the street, was seen by countless millions. It\nhad to be established that you were on Terra, and in touch with the\nCouncil, so that your audio-visi-screen broadcast should be considered\n_authentic_.\"\n\"But I didn't broadcast, my orders from the Council were to promise\nall Internationals, Philosophers and the Ruralians--in fact, all\ndissenters--a habitable planet to which they would be transported in\nsleep-freeze, together with all metallic substances, seeds, plasms,\ndrugs, food, in fact everything required for their normal existence\nfor a five-year cycle--free from interference by the Government of the\nWorld State--provided they agreed to furnish the World State with an\nequal amount of materials within one hundred years. I never believed\nfor an instant that the Council would relinquish control, the absolute\nlack of weapons, or of machinery to fashion them, was in itself a proof\nof intentions beyond the letter of the offer. I meant to refuse to\nbroadcast to the irreconcilables my personal guarantee as demanded by\nthe Council. Besides, I know of no such planet.\"\n\"That was why I took you to Havanol,\" Doctor Fortun nodded sadly. \"The\nCouncil anticipated your refusal--your psychological data easily\ntold them that--and since at Havanol only those with special permit\ncould enter, the guests were specially chosen, so that none without\nthe scientific circle knew you were there, thus your broadcast became\nauthentic in the minds of the dissenters. You noticed there were no\nvisi-screens at Havanol, under the excuse that nothing that did not\ncontribute to pleasure could be permitted.\"\n\"But I tell you, I didn't broadcast!\" Mark was becoming exasperated.\n\"You keep on harping on that!\"\n\"No, but your double did,\" the girl's voice was opaque. \"Turn on the\nvisi-screen in the Spacer, and you'll learn the truth. Everything that\nhas been visi-screened on Terra since your arrival, was recorded in\nthe Spacer's telecast--simply select the broadcasts of the date and\nhour when we went to Havanol, and it will be shown on the visi-screen\npanel in the Commander's quarters. Your double--part resemblance,\npart surgico-synthesis even imitates your voice within one-tenth of\na microgram of its tonal quality. Detection was beyond human power,\nSpacer Lynn.\"\n\"If I ever get my hands on him...!\" Mark's fingers clenched\nspasmodically as his face went dark with passion.\n\"You never will,\" the girl said sadly, \"nor on the double who took the\nplace of Palanth ... even that detail was taken care of, perfumes and\nall,\" her smile was bitter. \"By now, both have been converted to power\nreserve, their usefulness having ended.\" There was an uncomfortable\npause, the silence becoming oppressive in the luxurious helio-plane of\nthe girl.\n\"Who's the Commander of the Interplanetary Spacer?\" Mark asked at last,\nhis agile mind already seeking means to circumvent the snare.\n\"_You!_\" was the laconic reply.\n\"I? Has the Council gone mad? Do they think that after what's happened\nthey can place a spacer in my power, and still command my allegiance? I\ncan lose their damned Patrol in uncharted space ... _and I will!_\"\n\"No, Spacer Lynn, you'll have to find a better, a more definitive\nsolution than that. You see, you promised millions a planet of freedom,\nwhere they could build a new civilization patterned after the old\nAmerican Constitution, but on an even greater, a wider plane of being.\nYou promised them freedom from the Council, and a chance to develop\nuntrammelled not only their minds but their emotions as well; you do\nnot know it, but your double was trained as a great actor, years of\nconditioning and training taught him to ring the changes of emotion on\nhuman souls not deadened by the controls. Reports showed that millions\nwept, that a tidal wave of joy coursed through their ranks sending\nthem pouring like a human cataract into the awaiting spacers, and\nsleep-freeze, Mark!\"\n\"Have you the figures on how many agreed to evacuate?\" Mark's face was\nwhite and tense. Palanth was silent, immobile, in the hieratic attitude\nof Martians in deep thought.\n\"Roughly, three hundred million. I received the secret report just\nbefore we left Havanol.\"\n\"Where are they now?\" Mark forced himself to ask.\n\"Travelling in space under robot control. When they arrive within the\norbit of Europa, they will remain in an orbit calculated to parallel\nthe trajectory of our Universe in space, in relation to the orbit of\nEuropa, so that they will be like satellites of that planet. You will\nfind an instrument in your quarters, which when operated activates a\nvibrational beam of such potency that it will contact the robot control\nof those spacers, causing them to land on the planet at various places\nand intervals. The major task will be to administer the antidote to\nsleep-freeze, but as each dissenter's awakened, he or she can join in\nawakening the rest. Your task is to build a civilization of Europa, a\ncivilization with all the technical science of Terra, and to thoroughly\ndevelop that planet.\"\n\"But why Europa? It's a bleak world of cold and bare rocks, lit\nby a hellish crimson radiation from Jupiter's red spot, deserted,\ninhospitable....\"\n\"But habitable, and rich in minerals, a large world with which to\nreplenish a ravaged earth. The moon, our Luna, will go, Mark. The\nCouncil plans to eventually move Europa from its orbit to take the\nplace of our Moon! What happened to you when you crashed there, is\nknown to the Council; they inspected your ship and found it had been\nexpertly repaired with rare metals and superb skill. By spy-ray they\nobtained enough out of your mind to obtain a pattern. You didn't have\nreserve oxides with you on that trip, yet oxides had been used in\nrepairing your ship; an assortment of special tools were needed to make\nthe repairs--tools you didn't have with you, yet the work had been done\nwith a skill that surpassed that of our best technicians. And, finally,\nit was established that your skull had been crushed from behind, yet,\nyou arrived in perfect health, the bone fracture entirely healed and\nwith _thrice the energy_ reserve of a normal man! as a psychologist, I\nworked on the report. It was startling!\"\n\"I see. And if I refuse to be part of their plan?\" Mark's voice had the\nflat tones of a man condemned to death.\n\"You will be sentenced to power reserve, and Europa taken by force.\nA scientist will be placed in charge and armed proctors brought to\npreserve obedience. The Council hopes such measures will not be\nnecessary--it will mean a constant struggle with the dissenters, and\nVenus and Mars might take advantage of the situation to begin the\nancient wars all over again. That is why they are willing to give\nyou a free rein. Ultimately of course, they envision the planet as a\nsatellite of the Earth, its population under complete Council control.\"\n\"I'll not live to see that tragic day!\" Mark's voice held infinite\nconviction.\n\"Neither will I,\" seconded Palanth.\n\"I suppose you're the direct representative of the Council?\" Mark asked\nthe girl. \"You'll keep them informed of everything we do!\" There was\ncontempt in his deep, bitter voice.\n\"Don't spare my feelings!\" Doctor Fortun smiled with a quiet sadness.\n\"I've told everything but what the Supreme Council instructed me to\nsay. I was to tell you another story ... to play enchantress and keep\nyou lulled, if necessary, in a fool's paradise. But controls one, six\nand fifteen never quite worked with me. I've had to feign a lot and\nmask my mind lest I be condemned to power control. We Psychologists are\nvery few--it's our only defense. Those we instruct in the techniques\nof the mind, must join our guild and swear allegiance _to us_! Why do\nyou think I arranged to come on this trip? For love of the Council?\n\"I'm a woman, Mark! I want a home instead of a clinic and a husband\ninstead of an order for fertilization. I want to experience the rapture\nthat is love and have children. I came because I thought the very\nqualities in you the Council means to utilize might be the means of\ncircumventing their purpose and ... and make us free!\"\nAn incredulous look of surprise spread over Mark's face. For an instant\nhe wondered if the Machiavellian tactics of the Council could extend\neven this far. But with a determined mental effort he probed the girl's\nmind and found it was unguarded. There was no trickery, no deception\nin her mind, even as the tears that blurred the lovely hazel eyes were\ngenuine.\n\"Venus be praised!\" He exclaimed fervently, and it was all he could do\nto refrain from taking her in his arms and kissing away the tears that\nwere rolling down her cheeks.\n\"She speaks the truth,\" Palanth said telepathically, there was a trace\nof embarrassment in his thoughts. \"She will be a most valuable ally in\nour fight.\"\nMark smiled, his face had lighted as if a profound grief had been\nremoved. \"You already know we'll fight, eh, Palanth?\"\n\"But of course, O Terran of dubious intellect!\" The Martian said\ngrandly and waved the sadly crumpled kerchief now almost devoid of its\noverpowering perfume. He was himself again, eager for the intellectual\nstruggle against overwhelming odds.\n\"What sort of intelligence is there on Europa?\" Doctor Fortun asked,\nonce more in control of herself.\n\"Exquisite beings with a mental power beyond our own, but resembling\nnothing human,\" Mark replied.\n\"Let's leave this helio. I'm anxious to inspect the Spacer; I've never\ncommanded a ship of this size.\"\n\"How many are aboard and what are they?\" Palanth inquired. \"I hope\nthey're Internationals!\"\n\"I don't know the figures, Palanth, but I'm certain at least ninety\npercent are Internationals. I do know at least five hundred scientists\nof various categories are aboard. They'll be the first to be awakened\nfrom sleep-freeze, for at journey's end, they take charge.\"\n\"And who's going to give them the antidote?\" Mark asked silkily.\n\"Robots, timed to administer it the moment we land on Europa. They have\norders to direct resettlement without interfering too much--and of\ncourse, they are the eyes and ears of the Council; they are the only\nones who have the necessary equipment for interplanetary communication,\nas you'll find out!\"\n\"I think they need a long, long rest, don't you Palanth?\" Mark was\nsmiling.\n\"Indeed, O protector of the martyred!\" Palanth exclaimed\ngrandiloquently. \"They must be tired, very tired ... of anything but\nsleep!\"\n\"I've never seen these robots,\" Mark Lynn thought aloud. \"Are there\nmany, Doctor Fortun?\"\n\"Approximately fifty--more than necessary, but they're to be used on\nlanding by the scientists. These robots, Mark, are humanoid in their\nmental processes, able to perform tasks too difficult for human beings,\nespecially in the mathematical field. They are created secretly, for\nthe peoples of the World State must not know of their invention--there\nwould be no need for labor if they were to be produced in sufficient\nnumbers; production of necessities and luxuries could be increased a\nthousand fold, and ... it would destroy the present social philosophy\nof the World State. It would remove the _credo_ of achievement, it\nwould abolish the standards of rigid thrift and conservation in a world\nof undreamed plenty, and finally, with robots able to solve the most\nintricate problems the absolute need for guidance would be neutralized.\n\"The Supreme Council had these robots built for their exclusive use.\nOnly one thousand exist, we've been allotted fifty because Europa's\nbeen acknowledged as a major achievement.\"\n\"Can they be neutralized--the robots, I mean?\" Mark was thinking at a\nfurious pace.\n\"These robots are impressionless, blank, so to speak. Their only\nmotivation is to administer the sleep-freeze antidote to the\nscientists aboard. After that, the scientists can direct them to\nrequired tasks, and each problem as it is solved by the robot, remains\nin its mechanical nero-pattern for repetition if necessary. They're\nwholly metallic, almost indestructible. _Whoever uses them first, is\ntheir master!_\"\nIt was then that Mark unable to restrain himself, bent down and kissed\nher. \"It occurs to me,\" he said very gently, \"that I've never known\nyour social name.\"\n\"Lucero,\" the girl whispered. \"It's an ancient, almost forgotten name\nof the romance languages now lost.\"\n\"The evening star!\" Mark breathed. \"No wonder you're golden....\"\nForgetting Palanth he was about to take her in his arms, when the\nlatter coughed with the dry, hacking sound of the Martians.\n\"Are we going into the Spacer, or have we changed our minds?\"\nhe inquired of the universe in general. \"Terra's being wrecked,\nwe're shanghaied aboard a sleep-freeze coffin polluted with half a\nthousand scientists and fifty inimical robots; we are headed for\nan unexplored moon of Jupiter, in the mesh of a gigantic plot, and\nthree hundred million victims are dependent on our wits ... yet two\nhighly specialized humans on whom the fate of a universe depends, are\noblivious of it all like two Phobos-struck kaladonis! Arrgh ... what a\nrace, O Mind of ultimate understanding!\" He bowed at the mention of the\nMartian all highest--the nameless God.\nBoth Lucero and Mark came to, faces crimson, smiling sheepishly.\nTogether they left the helio-plane and went down an emergency ladder\ninto the interior of the vast interplanetary Spacer.\nWithin the _Stellar Virgin_ the silence was intense--the silence of\na dead city. In the luxurious quarters provided for the scientists,\nthe latter lay soundless and inert in the almost ultimate oblivion\nof sleep-freeze. They were ten in number to each mammoth, cavernous\nstateroom, and in the very center, upon a throne-like dais, motionless\nand life-like, a gigantic robot sat immobile, awaiting the end of the\ntrip, when for the first time since they were fashioned, they would\nperform the only task impressed upon their virgin brains.\nMark Lynn went silently from cabin to cabin, to all outward\nappearances inspecting the ship, but inwardly, his mental processes\ngeared to the apex of their wide-awakedness, grappled endlessly\nwith the problem of the robots. If the scientists awakened from the\nsleep-freeze thanks to the antidotes, they'd instantly command the\nrobots for their initial tasks and thereafter they'd be masters of that\nincalculable source of power. With the robots under their command, the\nscientists would be masters indeed, able to dispose of the machinery\nwithin the Spacer at their will, to manufacture more machinery, build\nweapons and in short, control Europa.\nHe thought of the thousands of Internationals in the Spacer's hold,\nand his head ached with the sustained effort. It was a little thing\nthat gave him the clue, the intense pain at the base of his brain was\nlike a constant hammering, and Mark considered an infinitesimal dose of\nVanadol. It would banish the pain as if by magic.\n\"Vanadol!\" He exclaimed electrified. \"By Io, Vanadol is the answer! How\nmuch Vanadol have we got aboard? Palanth, search the medical stores and\nfind how much of the stuff we've brought along ... hurry!\" Mark's eyes\nwere sparkling, green as emeralds.\nLucero regarded him curiously. \"What's so important about Vanadol,\nMark?\"\n\"The scientists must not awaken until we have the robots under our\ncommand. By giving each scientist a heavy dose of Vanadol, enough for\nweeks of sleep, we circumvent the antidote for sleep-freeze. It's\nthis way: when we land, the mechanism within each robot timed for\nrelease on arrival, activates them for their one and only task, the\nadministration of anti-sleep freeze, but since each scientist will\nhave been thoroughly drugged with Vanadol, they'll be released from\nsleep-freeze, but will continue to sleep under the powerful narcotic.\nThe robots then will be given such commands as we decide on, and will\nbe entirely answerable to us three only. They will facilitate immensely\nthe task of making Europa truly habitable, and since they are almost\nindestructible, will be the most valuable of all weapons. Let's get\nbusy, if there's enough Vanadol, we've won the first round after all!\"\nPresently the Martian returned, \"There's tons of the stuff,\" he\nannounced. Mark had to explain all over again.\n\"Panadur!\" Mark Lynn breathed softly as he glanced at the stark\ngrandeur of Europa from one of the glassite ports. It was night. The\nmacabre glow of Jupiter's Red Spot enveloped the satellite in a red\nopaline haze that made the vari-colored cliffs gleam with twisted\nflames in deep crimson and orange and purple. Over all, an eternal\nmantle of snow lay like frozen spume. Mark opened his hand and looked\nat the jewel he held. It was pulsing now with a fiery radiance.\nThe great spacer was lying in the cup-shaped hollow of the immense\nvalley, resting on the blanketing snow, just as once before, a\ntiny cruiser had rested crippled in the fantastic Europan night.\nBut it was different then. Mark remembered his chilling awe at the\nDantesque panorama, and his shock when Jim Brannigan had found life\non Europa, the strange, exquisitely furred bipeds with slender arms\nand six-fingered hands. He had thought them animals then, despite the\nbright intelligence shining in the beryl-eyes of the creatures. But\nhe'd learned differently in time, when Jim had crushed his skull from\nbehind, and the Panadurs had saved him by absorbing Jim's life-energy\nand transferring it to him while he lay unconscious. That was the\nmiracle, that the metabolism of the Panadurs could absorb energy from\nany source and transfer it at will. They were telepathic, and their\nleader had given him the jewel to facilitate communication if Mark ever\nreturned.\nIt was like the remembrance of a dream, to have the past pass in review\nthrough his mind as he methodically donned his allurium suit, and\nturned on the heating unit.\n\"I'm going out ... alone,\" he said firmly to Palanth and Lucero. \"I\nowe the inhabitants of this world a debt, and whether we remain or\nnot, is for them to decide. You see this star-like jewel? That's the\nStar of Panadur; by concentrating my thoughts, it acts as a sort of\ntransmitting crystal and will make it possible for me to reach the\nleader of the Panadurs. I will return.\" He smiled reassuringly into\nLucero's distraught face, and Palanth's scowling one.\n\"Why can't I accompany you?\" The Martian growled. \"Since when must I be\nleft behind in the face of danger? Am I an old woman, Mark?\"\n\"But there's no danger, Palanth! It's a promise I gave that never,\nnever would I bring any intelligent creature to Panadur without their\napproval. This world's a treasure house, and the Panadurs are a\ntreasure in themselves, for their fur is finer than anything in the\nUniverse, including Neptune's moons. I know of a vast cavern floored\nwith oxide, and cliffs of pure metal. Europa, or rather, Panadur, is\nan inexhaustible source of power! It remains with them--the Panadurs,\nwhether we remain or not.\" He smiled at them again, almost pleadingly,\nfor them to understand, and without another word, stepped through the\nair-locks and was gone. They could see his tall figure in its gleaming\nsheath outlined in the unearthly glow until it disappeared in the\ndistance.\nMark Lynn let his mind be passive. Contact with the alien intelligence\nhad been made; the jewel in his hand was now a burst of radiance, as\nhe traversed the valley in the direction of the cavern country, and at\nlast he was before the gigantic mass of cliffs he sought. He entered\na low, gallery-like cave that wound downwards into the bowels of the\ncliff, following the twisting turns as the gallery widened and the\nluminescent walls became even more luminous, until at the end of a turn\na burst of radiance met his eyes and he was once more in the grotto of\ntitanic proportions lighted by the glaucous radiance, like the green\nlight beneath the waters of a shallow sea. At his feet, crystalline and\npowdery, the entire floor of the grotto was covered by oxide as far as\nhis eyes could see. Mark had the odd sensation of living a part of his\nlife over again. He waited in silence.\nMark knew that thousands of burning beryl eyes were peering at him\nfrom concealed openings in the walls; he felt the mental rapport with\ntheir leader that was rapidly absorbing from his mind all that could\nbe obtained. The wait was interminable. At last, a silvery-grey,\nfurred being, was before Mark, seemingly having come from nowhere. Its\nexquisite triangular face, with the wide-set beryl eyes and broad\nforehead, was startlingly human.\n\"Greetings, twice come!\" the faint shadow of a smile seemed to cross\nits features as it telepathed the thought. \"When your space machine\nlanded, we feared the worst--but we are reassured. Your mind tells me\nthat countless of your kind hover asleep over our world. What would you\nhave us do?\"\n\"Your permission to remain,\" Mark sent the telepathic reply. And\nthen, in a welling flood of thought, poured out the story of what had\nhappened on Terra, the resettlement of two-thirds of the population on\nother planets, and finally, their abhorrence of their Terran Government\nand its methods.\n\"Allow us, O Panadur, to build a new civilization on your world, a\ncivilization where we may achieve happiness in freedom. We bring over\ntwo thousand Space machines laden with everything we can possibly\nneed, and millions of eager beings. We will transform your world into\na Paradise such as you have never known. Weather control stations will\ngive Panadur freedom from cold and darkness; cities will be reared in\nbeauty, and to you, we guarantee forever, freedom from attack; for\nif we do not remain on Panadur, whom the Terrans call Europa, the\nCouncil of Terra will never rest until it has been subjugated by its\ninterstellar fleet. Your mines will be ravaged, your people will be\nenslaved, blood redder than the angry spot of the greater world will\nflow in rivers.\"\n\"And how can you prevent them from doing so, in any event?\" the Panadur\nasked.\n\"We will make your world impregnable. Each one of the Spacers that\nbrings our people here, will be turned into a fighting cruiser; the\nminds of the greatest scientists of Terra will be utilized for our\nadvancement ... and, these scientists, five-hundred of them, now\nasleep, will be delivered into your care as hostages, together with\nfifteen robots, placed under your command. We will ensure your safety,\nin return for your scientific aid. We know you have no tools; even to\nrepair a small rent on my cruiser when I crashed here before, took\nhundreds and hundreds of your people and the tools I had, plus weeks of\nwork! The result was magnificent, but I know how handicapped you were.\nMy robots will build you machines of power, and we will give you that\nwhich you may choose from our ships. In insuring your safety, we ensure\nours. One for all, and all for one, O Panadur. Fate has decreed that\nyour world is in danger--shall we join forces?\"\n\"It is true, Terran. We have achieved mental mastery, but we've\nnever conquered our environment. Our hands,\" he extended fragile,\nsix-fingered hands without thumbs, \"are hardly suited to fashion tools.\nBut with machines that create other machines ... and metal beings such\nas I saw in your mind....\" A far away look came into beryl eyes as the\nPanadur leader paused.\n\"Let your mind be passive that I may contact and transmit to my people,\nthey must know the entire story.\"\nMark complied, and instantly, as if a tremendous force had struck him,\nhe reeled in darkness, consciousness fled. He never knew that not far\nbehind him another being fell unconscious also. It was Palanth. The\nMartian had followed unseen, unwilling to let Mark risk the unknown by\nhimself.\nThe hours slid in silence under the unchanging luminescence of the\nprimordial cavern, now filled with countless Panadurs in hieratic\nattitudes.\nAt last one of the beings stood erect and made a silent motion; waves\nof pure energy began to course through Mark Lynn and Palanth. But when\nthey awoke, all the Panadurs were gone save their leader. Mark dazedly\nstretched his long limbs and looked at the Martian uncomprehendingly,\nthen slowly remembrance came.\n\"So, you did follow me after all? Disobedience of orders in an\nuncharted world--do you know the penalty imposed by the Council?\"\n\"May the Council swelter in Venus' deepest swamp!\" Palanth spat\nirreverently. \"Didn't intend to take chances ... your life's too\nvaluable, O scourge of the Planets!\" Under a grandiloquent manner he\ntried to hide the mixture of bewilderment and awe with which he gazed\nat the placid Panadur Leader. He still had not quite decided what had\nhappened to him.\nThe Panadur in turn, gazed inscrutably at the being from Mars, its\ndelicate nose wrinkled slightly at Palanth's mingled fragrances. What\nwent on in the Panadur's prodigious mind was unknown to the two men,\nfor the three-foot tall Leader's mind was not in contact with theirs.\nThe faintest hint of a smile hovered over his placid features. At last\nhe began to send:\n\"The tragedy of your world, 'twice come' is only less startling than\nthat of your Government--your leaders are a paradox! With a philosophy\nof achievement they conceal the greatest achievement of all--men\nof metal to enrich your lives; with the goal of conservation and\neconomy, they waste the most precious of all things--Life! From such a\nGovernment, we can expect but destruction.\n\"Yet, your people reared without controls are dissenters.... I fear\nthey might not accept our guidance, that at some future time their will\nto power might create an even greater problem to be solved. However,\nthere's no alternative now. We accept the fifteen men of metal, O\nTerran, but above all we must have the 'Sleeping Ones' whose minds we\nwill study. _We Panadurs must guard against a future paradox._ Your\npeople,\" he paused and gazed from Mark to Palanth, \"may remain.\"\nThe mental rapport was broken, and the furred leader disappeared into\nthe depths of the cavern, leaving Mark and Palanth to retrace their\nsteps to the _Stellar Virgin_.\nFor the first time in her highly-trained life, Lucero felt the full\nimpact of loneliness as the Europan night swallowed Mark and Palanth.\nAt last she chose action rather than endure the atavistic emotions\nthat had begun to grip her. And methodically she flitted silently from\ncompartment to luxurious compartment where the scientists dreamt their\ndrugged sleep. Carefully she scanned their faces and was struck by one\noverwhelming fact--this was no collection of second rate scientists\nfor the solution of routine problems, but an assemblage of the first\norder, now inert and helpless in the coma of Vanadol, presided over by\na sphinx-like robot.\nThe last compartment was much larger than the preceding ones, and by\nfar more luxurious; during the previous inspection, Mark, Palanth and\nherself had had no time to come this far, and the girl was startled at\nits complex magnificence. Equipped for research work, it was a miracle\nof scientific devices, from energizing cabinets to a bewildering array\nof surgical apparatus and tools.\nOnly one man occupied it, and on the raised dais an immobile robot. But\nthe face that Lucero bent over made her gasp with involuntary fear. It\nwas the face of Verdugo, the infamous cerebral surgeon whose gifted\nfingers could change an entire ego with a few movements of the atomic\nscalpel.\nThe sight of the dreaded scientist in their midst was startling\nenough, but what made the girl turn ashen was the sudden flutter of\nthe surgeon's lids. A painful groan came from his lips, as he trembled\nand opened his eyes. The sight of Lucero bending over him seemed to\nreassure him, for he smiled faintly.\nBehind Lucero the towering robot glided noiselessly to peer at his\nawakening master. The girl was unaware it had moved.\n\"Shall I bring a measure of Thassalian, Master?\" The metal man's richly\nmodulated voice rose without the slightest mechanical inflection.\nFor one shattering instant, the girl felt as if her reason was taking\nwings. She remained utterly still as if in the grip of paralyzing\nhysteria. But her training saved her. Slowly she turned and gazed into\nthe strangely human features of the metal giant. At close quarters she\nnoted the smooth beryloid construction of the superb outer shell; the\nindestructible optics of non-abradable, chemically inert crystal with\nmicroscopic adjustments. But most important of all, she sensed that\nhere was a brain which had attained full growth--powerful, experienced\nand ... organic!\n\"Yes, bring me some Thassalian, _Alcoran_,\" the surgeon assented\nwearily and half-rose from his couch with a sigh. \"The sleep-freeze\nreaction is far worse than I'd anticipated!\"\n\"The antidotes have been given--two antidotes Master!\" The super-robot\nanswered instantly.\n\"Two! For the love of Terra! If it took a double antidote I must have\nbeen given a dose big enough for a Hellacorium....\"\n\"Doctor Verdugo,\" Lucero interrupted purposely, now entirely calm.\n\"There's life ... intelligent life on Europa.\" She didn't intend that\nAlcoran should have a chance to disclose what he must have known.\n\"Yes?\" Doctor Verdugo was all attention. \"Bring the Thassalian!\" He\nwaved an imperious hand at Alcoran, \"and don't stand there like an\neffigy! Must your orders be given twice?\" He glared at the robot.\n\"Proceed, Doctor Fortun. Intelligent life ... what's it like?\"\n\"Humanoid, but furred against Europa's eternal cold. They seem to be\ntelepathic!\"\n\"Telepathic.... Remarkable! I must have a specimen without delay. Have\nmy scientists been awakened?\"\n\"We've just arrived, Doctor, they're being given the antidote now,\"\nLucero was once again her coldly efficient self.\n\"Your Thassalian, Master.\" Alcoran extended the small glass and waited\nwhile the scientist drank, closing his eyes against the ecstasy\nimparted by the liquor.\n\"Help me up!\" The girl complied stifling a grimace of distaste as his\narm encircled her waist. Verdugo stood on his feet with the girl's\nhelp, weaving a little, and finally recovered his balance.\n\"Telepathic ...\" he murmured, the light of some fiendish purpose\ngleaming in the coal black eyes. \"Order some of my scientists to secure\na specimen immediately, Doctor Fortun!\" The girl bowed.\n\"Master ...\" Alcoran's voice was insistent. \"You must....\"\n\"Silence! Never use the word 'must' to me, never!\" Verdugo had drawn\nhimself to his full height. \"Ever since I synthetized his brain, he's\ngot the idea that _he_ owns me! I had to order him not to stir from\nhis seat during the entire voyage ... I wouldn't have had any peace\notherwise,\" he smiled at the girl and waved toward the super-robot. \"I\nsynthetized his brain from three of the finest intelligences on Terra!\"\n\"You mean you transferred three brains to Alcoran's helmet?\" She\nasked aghast. \"But didn't they retain their memories ... their\npersonalities...?\"\n\"Of course not, my dear. I never do things by halves. And now I must\ninform the Council we have arrived, and the discovery of life on\nEuropa.\" He walked toward the immense metal wall and his slender hand\nreached out to touch a spot. Silently, the huge metal partition rose\nupwards revealing a hidden alcove in the very center of which, taking\nup about two-thirds of the available space stood a gigantic machine.\n\"A Tele-Magnum!\" Lucero breathed.\n\"Alcoran, contact Venus ... the Council Hall,\" Doctor Verdugo ordered\nhis super-robot. The latter came noiselessly forward. Once seated at\nthe console of the incredibly complex mechanism, his agile finger ran\nwithout hesitation over the banked keys, after pressing a master switch\nthat lighted serried ranks of powerful tubes, with an eerie violet\nlight.\n\"Give my orders to my scientists, Doctor Fortun--it is imperative I\nhave an Europan specimen immediately.\" Doctor Verdugo made a curious\ngrimace that accentuated the evil expression stamped on his features,\nthen he nodded in dismissal.\nWith a great effort Lucero quieted her swirling thoughts. She had\nno doubt but that the super-robot knew about the administration of\nVanadol. If Verdugo learned of it, he would instantly report it to the\nCouncil, and at least part of the fleet would come to investigate.\nAgainst the fleet of Terra they were powerless.\n\"I'll not deserve this world and freedom if I fail now!\" She told\nherself. White-faced and grim she began to carry out a plan that\nwas slowly growing in her mind out of sheer desperation. Once again\nshe retraced her steps from compartment to compartment, and began\nmotivating each robot, commanding them to administer the sleep-freeze\nto the men and women in the lower tiers. One robot she left, the one in\nthe compartment next to that of Doctor Verdugo--she had a task for that\none.\nWhen all the robots save one had been sent below, she went back and\nentered the next to the last compartment.\n\"Arise and come with me,\" she ordered the robot. \"I'm your master, you\nwill obey my orders implicitly.\" The metal monster stirred, as if some\nhidden mechanism had come to life at the vibration of her words. It\narose on frictionless bearings and stood glittering before her; she\nopened its breast and inspected the masterly work that had been done\non the control panel; its eyes, lit now by the glow of intelligence\nseemed uncannily human. Lucero knew this specimen didn't possess the\nMachiavellian intelligence of Alcoran--only Verdugo could accomplish\nsuch a satanic piece of work--but it was larger and more powerful than\nAlcoran, the latter being a specialized product for intricate mental\nwork.\nResolutely Lucero marched to Doctor Verdugo's compartment, followed\nby the fearful metal servant. The scientist had already completed\npreparations for a vivisection when the girl entered, and was bending\nover a multitude of helixes of finest wire of sensitized silver.\nAn array of electric and atomic-powered instruments from tiny,\nsilver-like scalpels, to razor-sharp saws gleamed on tables at his\nsides; fulgurants cast ultra-visibility light upon the white-swathed\ncouch where the victim was to be strapped alive. Verdugo did not hear\nthem enter, but Alcoran did! Instantly the super-robot gave a warning\ncry at the sight of his metal counterpart and stood before the girl and\nrobot like an impassable wall.\n\"Attack!\" Lucero did not waste words. \"Destroy it!\" She pointed to the\nslightly crouching Alcoran.\nWith a blasting roar the girl's robot lunged, and Alcoran sprang\nforward to meet the attack. It was a nerve shattering impact, like that\nof two armored pre-historic monsters engaged in a death-struggle.\nBehind the metal men, both Lucero and Verdugo maneuvered for position,\ntheir atomo-pistols blazing a path through scientific instruments and\nfurnishings as they fired over and around the struggling robots. The\nawesome din of the gigantic battle was deafening, as the compartment\nwas slowly converted into shambles.\nOnce Alcoran managed to grip the leg of Lucero's robot and the latter\nwent crashing against the vivisection table, instantly pulverizing\nit. But with a leap that carried it half across the vast alcove,\nthe robot charged Alcoran like a battering-ram and driving him into\nthe Tele-Magnum room with the impetus of his leap. The explosion of\nshattered tubes and crashing metal, the singing hum of ripped berlyloy\nand pulverized plastuco, was drowned by the clang and thud of the\ngigantic bodies as they strove to wrench each other apart.\nAnd now, only the litter-strewn floor was between Lucero and Verdugo,\nthe latter oozing blood from a seared shoulder where an atomoblast had\ntouched. Deliberately she aimed her atomo-pistol, even as the surgeon\nsimultaneously raised his, but her blast only disintegrated a fulgurant\non the ceiling, while Verdugo's fatal pencil of violet light speared\nan empty spot, for at that instant the hurtling form of Alcoran spewed\nfrom the alcove, barely grazing the girl, but such was the terrific\nforce of his passage that it knocked her spinning against the wall\nwhere she collapsed.\nBehind Alcoran, hurtling like an avenging angel, Lucero's robot came\ncharging with but one thought--destruction.\n\"Alcoran!\" It was Verdugo shouting hoarsely at his creation, now\nspread-eagled on the floor. \"Run, follow me!\" He dived for the\npassageway as Alcoran, damaged as he was, his brain shaken by the\nterrific concussion arose and sped after him.\nAt the sight of the fallen girl, Lucero's robot checked his rush,\nhesitated and finally bent over her. He raised the still form as if\nit were a feather and stood for a moment as if trying to cerebrate.\nFinally it deposited her with infinite care on the couch where\nVerdugo had slept. Then it began to search what cabinets had not been\ndestroyed, for a stimulant.\nIt found the decanter of Thassalian, that miraculously had escaped\ndestruction; gently opening the girl's mouth the robot poured a few\ndrops down her throat. Just then Mark Lynn and Palanth burst into the\nroom. Shamble was before their eyes. Mark went white with apprehension\nand leaped to Lucero's side, but the robot placed a formidable metal\nhand against the earthman's chest and growled:\n\"Back, Terran! Come no nearer!\"\nPalanth slid toward them atomo-pistol in hand, just as Mark drew his.\nBut at that moment Lucero opened her eyes and groaned softly.\n\"Mark!\" There was a universe of gladness in her cry. She waved a limp\nhand toward the robot. \"This is Mark Lynn and the other's Palanth--your\nmasters also, obey them.\"\nThe robot stepped back and Mark kneeled at her side. \"Are you hurt, my\ndarling?\" Lucero shook her head and tried to smile.\nPalanth turned to the robot. \"Tell us what occurred in detail,\" he\ncommanded. Thus it was that from the metal lips they heard the entire\nstory with photographic accuracy, as far as he had seen.\n\"I might have known they'd have one last counter-check,\" Mark\nreproached himself. \"I should never have left you!\"\n\"Who could have foreseen this?\" Lucero raised herself on an elbow.\n\"Even I had no idea that Verdugo was with us, not to speak of his\nbringing one of the only two ultra-specialized super-robots in\nexistence. We'll have to work very fast, Mark! There's nothing,\nliterally nothing, that Alcoran cannot accomplish in a scientific\nway, provided he has the materials--Verdugo may even have him build a\nTele-Magnum and communicate with the Council!\"\n\"But where's he going to get materials, my dear? A Tele-Magnum is a\ntall order!\"\n\"I don't know.... But I do know that Verdugo has the mind of a fiend\nand the skill of a genius, and Alcoran's a triple-synthetized brain,\nand under Verdugo's control!\"\n\"We'll deal with the surgeon,\" Palanth's voice was deadly.\n\"And we shall deal with Verdugo and his scientists,\" came the quiet\ntelepathic thought.\nBoth Mark Lynn and the Martian turned seeking its source, and saw\nframed in the doorway to the alcove, the silver-furred figure of the\nPanadur leader.\n\"That was the agreement,\" the Panadur added after a pause. \"Thousands\nof my people await without to carry him away.\"\nLucero's robot took a step forward tentatively and then gazed\nquestioningly at its mistress, and suddenly a wave of energy from the\nPanadur stopped it dead in its tracks.\n\"The agreement will be honored,\" Mark acquiesced, \"but one has escaped,\nO Panadur, and Klonos knows where in that maze of rocks and caverns\nhe's now hiding with his super-robot.\"\n\"That's our problem, Terran. The agreement was five-hundred, and\nfive-hundred scientists shall we have.\"\n\"You will need the fifteen robots immediately,\" Mark said thoughtfully.\n\"Lucero, my dear, only you can command the robots, so place fifteen\nunder the Panadur's command ... are you able to walk?\"\n\"Of course, I was only stunned.\" She rose from the couch and left the\ncompartment followed by her ever-watchful metal man. The Panadur seemed\nto melt away as it glided into the hall.\n\"And now,\" Mark addressed Palanth, \"we must begin to land the\nspacers, I have the radio beam. The sooner everyone has been given\nthe sleep-freeze antidote, the better. Internationals first, they\nare our best fighters, just in case the Council has another trick up\nits sleeve. Then we must find some way of increasing the spacers'\nresistance to the disintegrating beam--the alloy used on robots' case\nshell is the clue--they're impervious to atom-blast. Weather stations\nnext--robots to be detailed on that and machinery stations to turn out\nmechanical robots and more machinery ... tools, weapons for defense ...\nwe're really fighting for time.\"\n\"I know. But even then, I can think of nothing that can stop Terra's\nfleet if it ever comes to Europa. It's practically invulnerable, or\nVenus and my own Mars would have shaken off the Council's domination\nlong ago!\"\n\"I have an idea Palanth! It's far from clear, but if it works.... It\nhas to do with radiant energy--even the Fleet couldn't withstand that.\"\n\"Radiant energy! Have you lost your mind? Who can control a radiant\nenergy vortex? Besides, we have no means of releasing it. Stop dreaming\nMark!\"\n\"It isn't a dream,\" Mark shrugged wide shoulders. \"But come, let's take\na look at the scientific exodus--I'm certainly glad to be rid of them,\nhope the Panadurs can cope with that tribe.\"\n\"What do you suppose the Panadurs _really_ want with them, Mark?\"\n\"Probe their minds of course. Panadurs have surpassing intellects,\nbut they have neither tools nor scientific techniques. I suppose they\nwant to learn all they can from our 'sleeping beauties,' in order to\nachieve their own inventions. Panadurs are thumbless, unable to make\ntools, thus their development has been purely along mental lines. Since\ntheir metabolism requires no food, as they are able to absorb energy\n_directly_, they have by-passed all domestic arts and sciences.\"\nThe steadily increasing noise from the tiers below, had now become a\ncacophonous din, as more and more Internationals came to life.\nThe Panadur Leader bending over a scientist for the nth time, probed,\ndelved and searched the innermost recesses of the quiescent brain under\nthe scalpel, but at last he straightened with a baffled expression.\nThe Europan cavern was a vast catacomb under the glaucous radiance of\nthe radio-active walls that spread a green stela on the faces of the\nsleeping scientists, flanking the walls in lengthening rows.\nThe Panadur knew what had been done, he had even tried the delicate\nprocess, but the secret of transferring a living brain, minus its\npersonality and the seat of entity, remained unsolved.\nNot one of the scientists brought from the _Stellar Virgin_ possessed\nthe secret technique, and many Panadurs had sacrificed themselves in\nvain as their brains died under the atomo-knife.\nPresently the Panadur Leader raised his delicate face, the brilliance\nof his eyes increased as he turned to face the tunnel that led to the\ncavern's entrance, then the single thought flashed out: \"_Enter!_\"\nIt wasn't long until the silence was broken by the tread of heavy-shod\nfeet crunching the glittering oxide crystals, and Mark entered followed\nby Palanth. The awful responsibility for three-hundred million lives\nand the transfiguration of a world, had left its mark on the faces of\nthe two men.\n\"We bring bad news, Panadur!\" Mark said bluntly, in his preoccupation\nhe unconsciously resorted to speech. \"One of the space vessels has\nbeen looted of vital supplies that can be used for the construction\nof an interplanetary radio. Verdugo took the opportunity to steal its\nradio installations with the aid of his robot, while the passengers\ncelebrated their arrival on Europa. If Verdugo builds a Tele-Magnum and\ncontacts the Council, it means War!\"\n\"And war,\" Palanth seconded, \"means the Terran Fleet, against which we\nare not prepared!\"\n\"When were the supplies stolen?\"\n\"Three revolutions of Panadur on its axis ago--we learned of it today.\nEnough time for Alcoran to have built an instrument powerful enough to\ncontact the Council on Venus.\"\n\"The blame is partly ours,\" the Panadur telepathed sadly. \"We should\nhave captured Verdugo long ago. But it meant wasting lives to imprison\nthat madman ... but now, we have no recourse, the scientist and his\nmetal servant will be brought in. It will solve another problem,\" he\nadded thoughtfully. \"This!\" He indicated the trepanned cranium of the\nscientist on the operating table.\n\"If you need them, Panadur, you may have every robot in our\npossession,\" Mark offered.\nFor an instant the nearest thing to a smile the two men had ever seen,\ncrossed the features of the strange being of Europa.\n\"Panadur thanks you, Terran. But we already have built over a\nthousand robots, half of them have mechanical brains and can be\nradio-controlled, but the other half, the important one requires a\nknowledge of Verdugo's technique for transplanting organic brains to\nmetal men. He shall provide that ... personally!\"\n\"Once long ago,\" Mark spoke meditatively, \"you slew an enemy of mine\nwith a volume of energy like a bolt of lightning, then you somehow\ntransferred the latent energy of that being to me. _Could that have\nbeen radiant energy?_\" He paused. \"Could it, O Panadur?\"\nBut the Europan had abruptly interposed an impenetrable barrier between\nhis mind and that of the two men. With an imperious gesture he pointed\nto the exit of the cavern. Mark and Palanth gazed at each other in\nbewilderment, finally they left in silence.\nAs soon as they were lost to view, the cavern began to be filled by a\nsteady stream of thousands upon thousands of silvery Panadurs silently\nfiling in from the inner caverns.\n\"What in Phobos happened to him?\" Mark thought aloud, trying to\nunderstand the incomprehensible conduct of the Panadur Leader.\n\"Don't ask me riddles about this fantastic race of beings!\" Palanth\nexclaimed irritably, waving his handkerchief. \"What has radiant energy\ngot to do with them anyway?\"\n\"Just a hunch of mine, Palanth. If the energy they absorb from minerals\nis radiant energy ... well, we might be able to defy the Terran Fleet\nitself ... _if_!\"\n\"You still speak in riddles, O Thou specially not wanted!\" Palanth\nlapsed into his usual grandiloquent manner. \"At any rate, your idea of\nfighting the Terran Fleet with radiant energy certainly had a startling\neffect on that mysterious biped of yours.\" He pressed still another\noffensively perfumed handkerchief to his face and eyed the changing\nlandscape of Europa with distaste. It was a raw panorama of great\ntracts of vivid red soil, exposed by the melting snows; outcrops of\nglittering rocks rich in minerals flashed in rainbow hues under the\npowerful ultra-visibility reflectors that were substituting for Terra's\nSol. In the near distance, gigantic skeletal structures were a babel of\nsound, and beyond, the mile-high weather control towers fought steadily\nthe numbing cold.\n\"Must I explain in words of one syllable so that dubious intellect of\nyours can absorb it?\" Mark asked mockingly. \"Well, while asking the\nPanadur about radiant energy, _I had in mind_ building thousands of\ntiny spacers out of some of the Spacer Transports that brought us here.\nThese tiny swarms are to be filled with _radiant energy_ and aimed by\nmechanical robot control directly at the Terran Fleet so that they\nwill explode on contact, annihilating everything in their path. Thus\nlives will be conserved.... _But the radiant energy must come from the\nPanadurs!_\"\n\"Too many _ifs_,\" Palanth replied unconvinced. \"However, we can have\na fleet of miniature spacers ready before the Council's butchers get\nwithin a million parsecs of Europa.\n\"But without either your damned radiant energy or some explosive that\nwill do what no explosive has ever done before, or ray either, for that\nmatter, the ships will be as useless as ... as a Panadur in a fight!\"\n\"_Build the fleet!_\" came the startling telepathic command from the\ndirection of the cavern country.\n\"He ... _It_ was in contact!\" Palanth gazed at Mark Lynn startled.\n\"He always is,\" Mark held up the gleaming blue, star-like gem he\ncarried in his pocket. \"Probably appreciated your complimentary remark\nabout the fighting qualities of Panadurs. But that's what I wanted to\nhear him say!\" He exulted. \"Hold up everything Palanth, and throw all\nour resources into the building of the miniature fleet.\"\n\"Yeah! But let's not forget to get the remaining spacers into shape\njust in case.... I'd much rather die exploding on a Terran spacer, than\ntrapped like a Martian desert rat on Europa.\"\n\"Patience, O Spawn of unfortunate begetting!\" Mark taunted his friend\nwith one of the latter's favorite insults. \"Everything in good time.\"\nAs their Spacer came into view in the distance, Mark increased his\nspeed unconsciously as he thought of Lucero.\nHis eyes were expressionless, his ego inert, but with the incredible\ndexterity of genius and long practice, Doctor Verdugo transferred the\nbrains of drugged scientists to the waiting rows of perfected robots.\nThe bolt of living energy that had dropped the infamous Terran surgeon\nin the recesses of an Europan cavern, had neutralized his will, and his\negocentric and sadistic personality no longer dominated his brain.\nNow his flying fingers manipulated atomic scalpels without hesitation,\nand one by one scientific brains were short of certain areas, without\nimpairing them. Silently he coupled the organic demi-brains with the\nmechanical motor organs of the robots, by means of nerve tendrils that\nled out of the brains themselves, and were curled into coils about\nwhich he placed helixes of sensitized silver wire, that made them\nvirtually transformers--nervous impulses into electrical and vice versa.\nThe miracle that was Alcoran, the super-robot, was being multiplied\nfive-hundred fold, as each scientific hostage provided a brain to\nactivate the new super-robots of the Panadurs.\nAlcoran itself had been operated upon to remove certain allegiances\nand memories and now, under the direct control of the Panadur leader,\nassisted the doctor in the operations.\nThe Panadur leader watched expressionless as the work went on\nceaselessly, inexorably until every scientific brain was housed in a\nmetal man.\nFinally, at a telepathic command from their leader, the Panadurs began\nto carry the cadavers of the scientists away--their energy potential\nmust not be wasted--the need for energy would be great. And then, an\nuncanny, a hair-raising scene took place.\nAs if felled by a blow, Doctor Verdugo collapsed prone upon the now\nempty operation table, and Alcoran detaching himself from among the\nnewly activated robots, grasped instruments and began to operate.\nStranger still, a Panadur silently lay down by the side of the\nscientist and relaxed as if in death.\nDoctor Verdugo's cranium was trepanned and opened, Alcoran deftly\nextracted the brain operating with the mastery that had been Verdugo's.\nThen he opened the brain pan of the Panadur and removed certain parts\nfrom its alien brain, including the pituitary at the apex, which\nseemed enormous in comparison with the size of the Panadur's brain,\nand grafted it to what had been the brain of Doctor Verdugo. Then as\na swarm of Panadurs dragged a robot forward, he inserted the organic\nbrain in the super-robot's helmet, made the necessary connections,\ncompleted the task and sealed the incision. Verdugo's body was carried\naway. The same swarm of Panadurs circled the super-robot, and began to\ngenerate energy potential which they transmitted to the quiescent brain\nin its metal head.\nSlowly, the superb metal man rose from the table and with slender,\ndelicate hands grasped its head. Its brilliant beryl eyes of purest\nindestructible crystal, glowed in the chiseled semi-triangular face.\nSuddenly it raised its head and gazed straight at the Panadur leader,\nand as if it had received a command, it bowed silently. Then, with the\nlithe, cat-like stride of the Panadurs it headed for the exit of the\nCavern and was gone.\nAn expression of triumph exalted the Leader's features. \"Hereafter,\" he\nthought, \"the energy output to control robots' brains telepathically,\nwill not be necessary. _They could be rendered telepathic!_\"\nIt was then the Leader turned majestically toward the cavern's depths\nand issued his final command to the waiting legions of his people. The\nrobots with the mechanical brains, nearly a thousand strong, marched\nforward, and, behind them, rank upon rank of the countless furry\nPanadurs.\nOnce outside in the artificial sunlight of Europa, only the myriad\nbullet-shaped, miniature spacers flashing in the golden light, drew\ntheir eyes. The distant rows of tiny, waiting ships drew robots and\nPanadurs alike like a magnet and the immense army of silver-gray beings\nwith a vanguard of metal men swept forward, eerily silent.\nWithin the _Stellar Virgin_, Mark Lynn paced the confines of what had\nbeen Verdugo's chamber. The Tele-Magnum, repaired and rebuilt could be\nseen in the small alcove. Mark's face was gray and haggard as he faced\nLucero and Palanth, seated on a couch against the wall.\n\"No word from the Panadur Leader, and we cannot wait much longer! If\nmy calculations are right, the Terran Fleet should be nearing Europa's\norbit. We cannot afford to be caught on the ground.\"\n\"Do you suppose the Council would listen?\" It was Palanth hoping\nagainst hope. \"Try them, Mark; we can spar for time.\" Then in sheer\ndesperation: \"I told you, Terran, those bipeds would never come through\nwith that infernal radiant energy!\" His features also showed the strain\nhe'd gone through, even the ubiquitous handkerchief was missing.\n\"I will!\" Mark had reached a decision. \"But no mercy can be expected\nfrom them, I'll have to handle it _my way_....\" He broke off and walked\nto the Tele-Magnum, followed by Lucero and Palanth. Outside, an immense\nmultitude of Terrans awaited orders.\nMark Lynn sat down at the console and manipulated the controls,\nhis fingers danced over the console keys until the eerie glow of\nswirling colors and the ascending whine of the instrument told him\nhe had the required power. Scene after scene rushed on and off the\ntele-panel until finally Venus City flashed into view. Mark made minute\nadjustments and increased the potential--at last the inner Council\nChamber was revealed.\nIt was filled to overflowing with scientists of the highest order. An\natmosphere of excitement pervaded it as experts of various categories\nrushed in and out with their calculations and reports. They were\nelectrified as the scene within the Spacer was flashed on their\ngigantic tele-panel. Mark waited an instant before he spoke, as the\nholy of holies subsided into utter silence.\n\"Europa,\" he said with complete aplomb, \"greets the Council. A free\nEuropa offers peace. Soon the Terran Fleet will have reached our new\nworld, and that Fleet will not return to Venus! Before it is too\nlate, before the interplanetary void becomes the scene of a gigantic\nhecatomb, we ask you, _turn your fleet back_ before it is too late!\"\nThere was an interval of stunned, disbelieving silence. Within the\nmemory of all present such a speech had never been heard. Such\ninsolence was so utterly unthinkable, that the scientists stood\ngrotesquely open-mouthed. Then in a rising tide of fury pandemonium\nbroke loose.\n\"Traitor!\" Was the universal cry. \"Apostate, blasphemer!\" From among\nthe scientific swarm that had completely forgotten their dignity, a\ntall, white-bearded scientist detached himself and raising both arms\nroared: \"Silence! The Master will speak!\" The pandemonium ceased\nlike a receding storm. Mark Lynn waited. Contemptuously he eyed the\nsleek bodies clothed in costly raiment, the bejeweled fingers and\ncruel faces. A wave of revulsion swept over him as he remembered what\ncountless millions had suffered at their hands. And as he waited, a\ndeep, magnificently modulated voice broke the stillness:\n\"_You_ offer peace!\" Low, sardonic laughter slashed like a scimitar.\n\"Peace I shall grant you earthling... in the _power reserve_! You and\nthat addled female who has betrayed her scientist's oath, and that\nfoppish Martian who even dares to ape my robes. To the rest of the\ndissenters, conditioning by the controls and rigid supervision for\nfifteen years. Those who are immune to controls, shall be condemned to\npower reserve.\"\nHe paused as if relishing the effect of words that sealed a planet's\ndoom. Then: \"As for those humanoid creatures with silver furs Doctor\nVerdugo mentioned in his message, we have already planned their orbit\nof _achievement_ ... that is,\" the satanic chuckle rose again, \"for the\nones we spare to serve, the rest shall be disposed of properly.\"\nThe unseen speaker's voice ceased, as if there were nothing more to be\nsaid.\nIn the momentary silence the voice of a robot boomed behind him:\n\"Master, a messenger from Panadur!\"\nMark Lynn whirled and saw a new type of robot, whose delicate features\nresembled uncannily those of the beings of Europa. Its beryl eyes\nregarded him steadily as it stood motionless flanked by two robot\nguards. Then Mark received the telepathic message flashing from the\nsuper-robot's brain:\n\"I, Leader of Panadur, have attended to represent my People.\"\nFor an instant Mark wondered if the Leader had somehow transferred his\nown brain to the metal man, for some obscure purpose of his own, but\ntelepathically, he was reassured.\n\"The metal man's brain relays my thoughts only. It is a vehicle,\nnothing more, and can convey speech when the need shall arise.\"\n\"War is imminent, Panadur,\" he telepathed, knowing that the Council\ncould not receive his thoughts. \"Without radiant energy we're doomed to\nfailure.\" But from the super-robot came no answer. Mark Lynn whirled to\nface the Tele-Magnum again, and his voice rang true with contemptuous\nassurance.\n\"You're dreaming, _Benevolence_! My offer was merely to prevent\nneedless slaughter. Your hour of domination has passed. When your\nTerran Fleet reaches the orbit of Europa, it will disintegrate, leaving\nyou and your cruel henchmen helpless to enforce your vandal rule on\nMars and Venus; a tidal wave of retribution will sweep you out of the\nplanetary colonies. Europa is and will remain free. Your despotic rule\nhas come to an end. This is your _last_ chance for peace!\"\n\"You are mad!\" There was a terrible anger in the voice of the Supreme\nRuler. \"Mad.... Do you think for an instant that I would send the\nentire Terran Fleet to your puny satellite? A mere section of a\nthousand ships will be enough to blast your blaspheming minions off its\nfrozen wastes. But enough of this, in less than an hour our ships will\nbe above you and death shall be swift!\" The Tele-Screen went blank.\n\"I can stay no longer, my men await me.\" Palanth rose abruptly and left\nthe chamber. He hurried to his flagship that led a section of what\nremained of the great Spacers that had brought them to Europa.\n\"My bluff has failed,\" Mark said quietly to Lucero, and his face was\ndrained of all color. \"Go to the Panadur caverns, my dear, they may be\nable to provide safety for you. I have only one course of action left.\"\nLucero shook her lovely head. \"We began together, we shall end that\nway.\" There was unshakable determination in her quiet, husky voice.\n\"Go and give the necessary orders ... it ... it ...\" her voice broke\nslightly, \"has been a glorious adventure, Mark!\" He kissed her with\ninfinite tenderness and tore himself away.\nOnce in the control room, his tones were hard as beryloy as he issued\ncommand after command, and the gigantic spacers rose in a crescendo of\nsound toward the trackless void. He knew the ships had been rendered\nas formidable as was within their power, but even that was not enough,\nand the knowledge that countless millions faced certain death became a\nterrible anger and desperation within him.\nThe Europan Fleet in battle formation, assumed a staggered triangle,\nin tiers of ships that rendered it a three-dimensional wedge. Powerful\nsuper-armored spacers formed the frontal line, while the spacers they\nhad been able to equip with atomic projectors guarded the sides, ready\nto meet encirclement. At the very apex rode the _Stellar Virgin_, with\nPalanth's sectional flagship the _Hellacorium_ one tier beneath. It was\na magnificent sight, and viewing it through the Tele-Magnum, Mark had a\nmomentary lift of pride.\n\"Connect three-dimensional telecast,\" Mark ordered the robot, and\ninstantly the tele-panel showed a scene as if it were an open window on\nthe heavens. In the distance racing at unimaginable speed, the Terran\nFleet flashed on majestically.\nBreathlessly, the watchers on two worlds eyed its inexorable approach.\nSuddenly, from the vanguard of the Terran Fleet a pencil of livid\nlight speared an Europan Spacer, and the great transport seemed to\ndisintegrate in space. Mark's knuckles were white as they tightened.\n\"Maneuver and blast!\" He roared into the radio, and in unison, but with\nvertiginous speed the Europa fleet became a single perpendicular line\nthat spewed atom-blast in an awesome holocaust. But the Terran Fleet\ncame on unscathed. Simultaneously converging beams of livid light shot\nout from its foremost cruisers and a score of Europan Spacers crumbled\ninto dust. In desperation a flight of them hurled themselves suicidally\nagainst the driving Terran Fleet, and whorls of incandescence illumined\nthe ghastly scene, and it was then that Mark saw several shattered\nTerran Spacers spinning down.\n\"We have no chance!\" Mark gritted as he saw the Europan Spacers\ndisintegrated in the awful struggle. \"Murderers!... We'll hurl all our\nremaining spacers against the Terran Fleet; if that's the only way to\nshatter them, that's the way it'll be!\" As he was about to give the\nfateful command, the Panadur super-robot, who had accompanied them, lay\na restraining metal hand on Mark Lynn's arm:\n\"Wait!\" He exclaimed laconically, and pointed to the three-dimensional\nTele-cast. He flicked a tiny lever and made delicate adjustments. As\nif seen through an ultra-powerful telescope, a vast swarm of silver\nspecks were rising from Europa itself. With dazzling speed many times\ngreater than that of the Spacers, the darting miniatures grew in size.\nPresently they reached the battle scene, and like metal hornets were\ndarting among the intermingled fleets, as if seeking their prey.\nFrom thousands of projectors of the Terran Fleet, a myriad\nscintillating beams crossed and criss-crossed the void like cosmic\nfingers, but the tiny ships in an unexpected maneuver, executed with\ndazzling speed, had scattered, skimming, darting, swooping like silver\nhawks, spreading like an immense net over and beneath the Terran ships.\nNow, they aimed themselves with unerring accuracy at the battle-giants\nof the Council.\nDozens disappeared into puffs of brilliant light as the Terran beams\nfound their mark, but as the flagship of the Terran Fleet maneuvered\ninto position to annihilate the on-coming swarm, a single silver\nminiature crashed squarely against its nose. As if a meteor had\nexploded in space, there was a burst of intolerable light blinding the\nwatchers, and just as they were able to see again, a salvo of crashes\nbecame a flaming incandescence that human eyes could never record.\n[Illustration: _Space was a raving hell of raw energy._]\nWhen at last the awesome scene had ceased, and they were able to open\ntheir tortured eyes, the void was empty but for a pitiful remnant\nfleeing pell-mell from an enemy that became a living projectile and\ncrashed suicidally against their ships with immediate annihilation to\nboth. A few silver bullets pursued them relentlessly until distance\nswallowed them.\nIn their Europan ships, now being tossed like leaves in a storm, no\none spoke. There were no words in human throats that could shatter the\nbrooding silence in two worlds.\nEven the sight of a thin, towering old man, whose despotic face was\nblanched as he gazed from the balcony above the Council Chamber, was\nnot enough to bring back their speech. The head of the Council, the\nSupreme Ruler had shown himself for the first time in history!\n\"Fiends!\" He croaked in a voice that trembled with shocked unbelief.\n\"Demons! What manner of beings have you on Europa that their bodies\ncan shatter the Council's fleet? For this your world shall be\ndestroyed--utterly destroyed!\"\n\"With what?\" It was the Panadur Leader speaking through his robot.\n\"Listen, O Man of evil! The five-hundred scientists you sent to our\nworld, no longer exist. Their minds activate such robots as you have\nnever even imagined. Verdugo is a robot himself--the robot whose voice\nyou are listening to, as my telepathic commands reach its brain. You\nsaw my people hurling themselves against your might and dissolving into\n_radiant energy_, which we absorb directly from matter as you absorb\nenergy from food. We can store it in our bodies, increasing it into a\npotential which can be directed at will and released with cumulative\nforce. Nothing in our universe can withstand that--and we're willing to\ndie by the millions that Panadur may be free!\"\n\"We shall make treaties with Mars and Venus, to permit the millions\nof Terrans to dwell on their Planets until we can provide habitation\nfor them elsewhere. In the meantime, take your choice, old man! Your\nterror-reign is ended. We give you the choice of the radiant death,\nor a space ship to take you and your vermin beyond the inner planets.\nYou will be provided with whatever you need--but the Council must go\nforever!\"\nThe Supreme Ruler realized defeat. He had never granted mercy--he\nexpected none. His arms hung limp at his sides, and his head with its\nsmoldering, hatred-filled eyes hung on his aged chest. He gazed at the\nstunned assembly of scientists below him and knew there was no escape.\nIf he defied Mark Lynn and the Panadurs, the Terran Fleet would be\nutterly destroyed and without that safeguard, Mars and Venus would\nsweep them off their planets. Everywhere his thoughts turned he only\nsaw death. And, as the power he had held for years slipped from his\ngrasp, he became a gray, broken old man who knew fear.\n\"We will go, International!\" He flung with one final sneer, as the\nhatred of a trapped beast flamed in his eyes.\nAs Mark Lynn manipulated the keys and cut the connection, he found a\nwarm body being pressed against his, and a tear-wet face that burrowed\nbeneath his chin. His arms went about Lucero.\n\"Crying, indeed! Where is the dignity of a scientist, Doctor Fortun?\"\nHe smiled with a vast tenderness.\n\"Damn scientists,\" she exclaimed inelegantly, and burrowed deeper. \"All\nI want is to be a woman, Mark!\"\nAt that moment the tele-panel lighted signaling and Mark connected\nagain. It was Palanth.\n\"Mark! Mark!\" His face was alight with triumph. But Mark did not\nanswer, for a new dawn was rising in his heart, and Lucero's lips were\npressed to his.\nThe Martian went silent, scowled for a moment and shrugged his\nshoulders, then pressed a square of Venusian silk to his supercilious\nnose in order to hide a spreading grin.\n[Transcriber's Note: No Section V heading in original.]", "source_dataset": "gutenberg", "source_dataset_detailed": "gutenberg -  The Star Guardsman\n"},
{"source_document": "", "creation_year": 1937, "culture": " English\n", "content": "Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online\n                     Minions of the Crystal Sphere\n         Like a monster flashing jewel, Plastica hovered over\n         Neptune. And burning at its heart like the malignant\n         sparkle of a gem was the blazing hate of millions of\n       slaves, ready to flare into raging battle at the ringing\n          tocsin of Vyrl Guerlan, the man without a country.\n           [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n         Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n         the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nThe vast globe of transparent plastic, infinitely stronger than the\nmost powerful columbium steel, hung suspended in space, ablaze in\nbrilliant pyrotechnics of light. And as cold and impersonal as the laws\nof the empire it ruled.\nWithin it was the City of the Inner Circle. Patterned after the City\nof Plastica itself, it rose within the globe in graduated tiers, but\nunlike Plastica, there were no graduations of caste--they were all\nProtectors, these scientists of the Inner Circle, and above them ruled\nthe legendary figure of _His Benevolence_, the \"Protector in Chief.\"\nSix thousand feet below, the turbulent ocean tossed restlessly as\nif resentful of the awful pressure of the stupendous anti-gravity\nbeams that kept the glittering sphere in space--sacred, inviolate,\ninvulnerable. Above the ocean's shoreline, set amidst low hills, rose\nPlastica, entirely enclosed in a shell of the same transparent plastic,\nand rising tier on tier--each one a small world unto itself, and each\nbarred from communication with other tiers. Here the millions toiled\nand loved and died ... and entered the portals of Blessed Sleep.\nIn the vast reaches of Neptune, only this continent--Adamic, was\nlivable, thanks to immense volcanic valleys where constant volcanic\nactivity of titanic proportions maintained a temperate atmosphere in\ncontrast to the frigid, desolate continents to the north and west. And\ndotting the valley of Plastica like transparent beehives, the twelve\njewels of the diadem--twelve cities where five million human beings\ndwelt in each, formed the empire of sixty million descendants of the\noriginal immigrants who chose to follow the Council in their flight\nfrom Venus.\nThere was no other sign of man, except among the virgin forests of the\nvolcanic valleys, where the Irreconcilables who fled the rigid laws of\nthe Protectors, carried on a precarious existence, assailed by fierce\nwild beasts of prey, and hunted for sport with lances and long-swords\nby the members of the Inner Circle, and the Scientists of the first\norder. Burdened by the awful gravity of the great planet, and without\nadequate arms to defend themselves, they were doomed quarry.\nWithin the capital, Plastica, and in each of the twelve cities, each\nindividual life had a definite pattern known only to the members of\nthe Inner Circle. Any deviation from that pattern brought instant\nretribution. There was no appeal, for each judgment was based on\ncold, inexorable law. Ever since the great exodus from Earth, when\nthe original Council had fled Terra, and forced colonies on Mars and\nVenus, and later after their disastrous war with Europa, the Council\nitself had been given the alternative of leaving the inner planets\nor being executed, the members of the Council had colonized Neptune\nwith millions who unable to live without the \"controls\" had chosen to\naccompany them into space. As the centuries passed and a new ruler of\nthe Council had been elected, changes had occurred in the laws, methods\nhad been perfected, until now, all Neptune was ruled by the City in the\nFlaming Sphere, and to the millions in Plastica and the other great\ncities, the Protectors (as they now styled themselves), had become\nlegendary figures. The Law was supreme. And behind the Law, was the\n\"Blessed Sleep.\"\nIn the fabulous hall of the palace, where the reeling torches in relief\nthrew faces of ink and of gold, there was a sudden silence as an\nunearthly voice rose limpid, supernally lovely, in a single ululating\nnote. It was as if a gargoyle were singing with the voice of an angel.\nBut the bizarre assemblage of jaded, pleasure-sated \"Protectors\" of\nthe _Inner Circle_ had no eyes for the cadaverous Minister of Justice,\nwhose distorted features seemed uglier as he directed a stream of\nmodulated notes upward toward the gigantic doors at the top of jewelled\nstairs. All eyes peering through the slits of black and golden masks\nthat completely hid their faces, were directed at the great red doors,\nshining like gigantic, square cut rubies under the primitive light of\nresinous torches. Every detail of the masquerade was perfection itself,\ncopying faithfully the conditions of primitive ages thousands of years\npast. The magnificent costumes of the guests harked back to pirates and\nslave-dealers, to vanished kings and oriental potentates. Back to an\nera when humanity was young, as if these scientists who had the command\nof miracles at their finger-tips, had wearied of their scientific\nperfection.\nBejamel, Minister of Justice, had conceived the idea, and His\nBenevolence had approved. From the current \"favorite\" of His\nBenevolence, to the newest neophyte of the Inner Circle, the Masquerade\nhad immediately become a command performance.\nOnly one thing they had no need to imitate, one thing that harked back\nto the darkest annals of Terra and surpassed anything that Planet had\never known--their utterly ruthless intrigues for the favor of His\nBenevolence. Assassinations were a commonplace, besides it provided a\nconstant incentive to the Scientists of the First Order, for from them\nwere chosen the fortunate ones who filled the vacancies of the Inner\nCircle.\nThe audience gave a vast sigh, like a susurrating breeze, as the\nponderous doors began to open under the exact tonal vibration of\nBejamel's voice, for Bejamel, Minister of State, was the only one\nwho could open those doors, aside from the \"Protector in Chief\"\nhimself. Within the inner chamber nothing was discernible as the doors\nopened--nothing but a vast radiance intolerable to their eyes. As if\na command had been given, all of them kneeled with bowed heads. At\nlast, Bejamel's ululating chant ceased and when they looked again, the\njewelled door had closed, but on the dais at the top of the stairs\nimmediately above them reclined a figure--a monstrous figure of man,\nwhose sharp, pale-yellow eyes gazed at them with bored contempt from\namid folds of bulging flesh.\n\"Benevolence!\" The roar of thousands of voices rose in servile tribute,\nand left hands were flung upwards, fingers extended in salute. His\nBenevolence looked them over with cold, cruel eyes that seemed to miss\nno detail, and a little smile extended the bulbous lips. Languidly he\nwaved a massive hand to the masqueraders, noting that none had achieved\nthe bejewelled opulence of his Mandarin's costume, and instantly\nthe revelry burst into tumult. The corps of exquisite dancers until\nnow frozen in motionless attitudes, began a series of provocative\nmovements, while barbaric drums and percussion instruments wove a theme\nof madness and desire. Over all, the shrill _passionata_ of the reeds\nand strings winged insistently to combine in a diabolic pattern that\nplucked at raw nerves and bared hidden jealousies and hates and bared\nthe instincts of the jungle, red in tooth and claw.\nA group of dancers weaving and undulating in the suggestive rhythms\nof the Venusian \"_Vuda_\" passed like an uncoiling serpent before the\naugust dais and burst into bacchanalian frenzy before the sardonic\nyellow eyes of His Benevolence. The fantastic splendor of the scene\nwas heightened by the young, supple bodies of the most beautiful girls\nin the empire, the Virgins of the Sacred Flame, chosen yearly for that\nsacred trust.\n\"Well,\" an impassive voice inquired of a tall, dark-haired _guest_ who\nstood in the side-lines, stiff and uncertain, his conventional black\nmask too small to hide the firm, square-cut mouth, his blue-black mane\nof shoulder-length hair betraying him as a newcomer lacking as it did\nthe curled and perfumed artistry of the other guests.\n\"I suppose it's superfluous to ask your reactions to your first visit\nto the mysteries of our City.\" The faint laughter that accompanied\nthe words brought a flush to the cheeks of the newcomer, fortunately\ncovered by the mask.\n\"How did you know I was a newcomer?\" The youth inquired in turn.\n\"Simple,\" the cold, impassive voice replied. \"You have no jewels save\nthat ring of a scientist of the First Order you're trying to conceal.\nYour costume's far too simple.... When do you begin your probationary\nperiod for the Inner Circle?\" The speaker was below medium height,\nslender as a sheathed rapier, and dressed in a single garment of\ntight-fitting silk literally emblazoned in diamonds of the first water.\nHis square-cut mane of red-gold hair was starred with myriad blue and\nred and yellow flashing stones, but the face was thoroughly hidden by\nthe golden mask.\n\"Tomorrow!\" The words were spoken with a vast regret. \"I'm afraid I\ndon't quite understand.... I hadn't expected this. Why I thought Sacred\nCity was a heaven of achievement of ...\" he stopped as if words failed\nhim.\n\"Go on!\" The sexless voice had a hint of mockery in its depths now.\n\"This is merely a preamble.\" He waved a marvelously slender hand in the\ndirection of the revellers. \"Later ... but then, I always manage to\nslip away before the real feast commences. If you wish, you may come\nwith me.\"\n\"But who are you? I might as well tell you who am I,\" the youth began,\nbut his unknown acquaintance waved his words aside with a gesture.\n\"I know who you are--scientist of the First Order Guerlan, as for me,\nit does not matter who I am--you will see me again ... soon.\" He turned\nto leave.\n\"Wait!\" Guerlan exclaimed. \"Take me with you out of this ... this\nwelter of vice and ...\" words failed him in his disgust.\n\"Traitor ... Blasphemer!\" A hoarse cry of rage rose above the music\nand tumult. The swirling dancers split asunder as if a giant's hand\nhad flung them back. In the center of the cleared space, Guerlan found\nhimself facing a stocky, powerful figure of a man, costumed in the\nancient garments of a Pirate, eyes gleaming through the slits of\nhis golden mask. In his hand he hefted a long columbium sword with\nbejewelled hilt. \"Draw, vermin!\" He taunted the dazed youth. \"Draw\nbefore I spit you on my sword like a spider!\"\nOn the dais, still reclining as he gulped superb white grapes, His\nBenevolence had begun to show signs of interest for the first time. The\nveil of boredom had left his yellow eyes, an expectant grin split his\nlips hungrily. Here was an unscheduled diversion of the first order.\nGuerlan wore a long, thin rapier for a weapon, it had come with the\ncostume, or he'd never have thought of wearing it--nothing like this\nfantastic nightmare could possibly have occurred to him. \"Why did they\nhave to choose me!\" He groaned inwardly. But with a swift movement\nhe drew the blade and stood _en garde_. He sensed dimly that it was\na true weapon, flexible and needle-sharp, not a costume-toy. And\nonce he had it in his hand, all his relentless, austere training in\nfencing and sword-play came flooding in his mind. It was not considered\nsportsmanlike to hunt Irreconcilables with atmo-pistols, only swords\nand spears were used--but the end was the same for the defenseless\nrebels.\nDimly Guerlan was aware of the dispassionate voice whispering in his\near, \"Watch out for tricks ... and win! The penalty will be far less\nsevere.\"\nGuerlan wondered if his unknown acquaintance of the frigid voice meant\nthat his rebellious words had reached the awesome figure on the dais,\nand that by winning he might be shown mercy. But he had no more time to\nthink irrelevant thoughts, for with a cry of drunken fury, his accuser\nstruck without preamble, slashing downward in a mighty blow calculated\nto have cloven anything in two. But Guerlan smiled contemptuously at\nthe transparent maneuver; he merely shifted sideways and flicked his\nrapier, and the sword slid harmlessly along the shining columbium\nsteel rapier. But the pseudo-pirate had no intentions of giving up\nthe initiative, he whirled the saber over his head and again brought\nit down in a glancing blow that would have sheared through Guerlan,\nand the young scientist again parried it with such precision that the\nrazor-sharp blade slid off singing to one side.\nIt was a superb struggle, and His Benevolence had directed his palace\nminions to clear space for his unobstructed view. He now held a\ngigantic uncut, but polished diamond to one eye, which he alternated\nwith an emerald and then a ruby, watching the battle through various\ncolors. An immense golden platter of viands and fruits slowly\ndisappeared down his capable maw.\nSuddenly Guerlan closed in. His rapier flashed with vertiginous speed,\nflicking in and out, so rapidly that it barely seemed to touch the\nbrawny forearm of his attacker, but when it came away it left a flowing\ngash from elbow to wrist. With a bellow of humiliation and rage, the\npirate-costumed scientist lunged with a tremendous slash, but his\nsword-point speared the air and before he could recover his balance,\nGuerlan drove his rapier deep into the fleshy shoulder.\nHis attacker was silent now, an ominous rage contorted the brutal face\nfrom which he'd torn the golden mask. He had but one single idea, to\nkill and kill quickly. Laughter and jeering shouts rose around him.\nAs did the acrid odor of blood mingling with the exotic fragrances\nthat cloyed the atmosphere ... his own blood! His reaction to the\naudible scorn of the other inner circle scientists was instantaneous.\nHe came in whirling his saber until it was like a silver vortex, then\nhe brought it down in a savage slash to shear Guerlan's head off his\nshoulders. But the youth leaped back, engaging the Pirate's sword at\nthe same time and with a strange flicking motion accomplished faster\nthan the eye could catch, he twisted suddenly at a precise instant and\nsent his attacker's sword flying through the silent hall.\nIt was an all but forgotten, ancient Italian trick whose origins were\nlost. But the Scientist of the Inner Circle, sweating under his gaudy\npirate's costume knew nothing about Italian fencing tricks--he only\nknew that one moment he'd thought to shear his opponent's head off his\nshoulders and the next he was disarmed. A look of sheer horror came\ninto his blood-flecked eyes and next an uncontrollable scream escaped\nhis lips. That sealed his doom. Guerlan saluted and made no motion to\nfinish him. But from the fabulous dais where the jeweled stairs were\nlike a flowing stream of fire, a mocking, infinitely sardonic laugh\nchilled every scientist present in that room.\n\"Our unfortunate brother is afraid, he is tired, is he not Bejamel?\nAfter such an ordeal he deserves sleep ... soothing 'Blessed Sleep!'\"\nAgain that demoniac, perversely cruel cachinnation that travestied\nlaughter, while the scientist, grovelling now, babbled in a frenzy of\nappeals for a mercy that didn't exist. He was led screaming to a side\ndoor and then once more there was silence in the hall.\n\"Bring the rebel!\" Once more it was the voice of His Benevolence,\npurring now, silky, filled with anticipatory pleasure. But Guerlan\nneeded no one to bring him before the dreaded presence. He walked calm\nand erect to what he sensed would be his death. He knew that from\nthis soulless being he could expect no justice--nothing but death.\nBut there was to be a surprise in store for him. His Benevolence was\nan adept at ringing the changes of torture on a human soul, and this\nwas a magnificent occasion. \"We have heard you disapprove of us?\" His\nBenevolence's voice was light, cheerful, there was no hint of danger in\nthe silky tones. But Guerlan knew. That partly developed extra-sensory\nperception that was a part of his heritage was prenaturally alert now.\nHe was not fooled.\n\"I expressed a misunderstanding, Your Benevolence,\" Guerlan bowed\nand slowly took off his mask. Above the wide-spaced deep-green eyes,\nflashing like tourmalines, a tiny tattooed six-pointed star seemed to\ntremble with the pulsing of a vein.\n\"You see, Bejamel? I told you that 'Perceptives' would never do, yet\nyou so persuasively sold me the idea of how useful they could be if\ntheir extra-sensory perceptive powers were developed.\" He sighed. \"It's\nthat genius of yours for intrigue.... But it has failed. We can allow\nno dissidents to enter the mysteries of the inner circle, Bejamel!\"\n\"I kneel before your Benevolence,\" Bejamel's gargoyle features were\npainfully contorted as he tried to grovel. \"In my zeal for service to\nyour Magnificence, I have failed, but there's always the Blessed Sleep\nfor this blasphemer, O Symbol of Charity!\" He finished ominously and\npondered what a jewel of a victim he would make.\nBut His Benevolence gave Bejamel a look of such cold, devastating evil,\nthat _he_ should dare to offer a solution, that the cadaverous Minister\nof Justice seemed to shrink, pale and desperate, against the wall of\nscientists who watched avidly the _miseen sc\u00e8ne_.\n\"No mercy, no finesse.\" His Benevolence again was wearing the mask of\nmerciful forgiveness. \"No Bejamel--not the Chamber of Blessed Sleep,\njust ...\" and he held up two fingers weighted with jewels. Then he\nturned to Guerlan.\n\"My son!\" Guerlan flinched. \"Having been offered the sacred honor of\nentering the Inner Circle, you failed to understand your first test\nof the lesser mysteries ... all this ... this pitiful show of human\nfrailty and weakness, this odious travesty on the sins of the flesh,\nwas staged to test you. And you.\" A world of sadness seemed to darken\nHis Benevolence's voice, \"and you condemned us! Instead of seeing it as\na mere test, and valuing it for what it was worth, you believed that\nwe were such monsters of hypocrisy as to entertain such lives.\" He\nwagged his head from side to side in inexpressible disappointment and\ngrief. \"I would pardon you from the depths of my heart, but The Law is\ninexorable--I can but soften the harshness of your retribution.\n\"And so, my son,\" he held up two fingers again, \"you not only are\nbarred from entering the sacred inner circle, but are demoted from\nscientist of the first, to that of the second order. There is one\nplastic center where a problem has not been solved. Achieve its\nsolution and you will be promoted to your original place, and\nperhaps ... perhaps as you grow older, you may again be considered for\nthe priceless boon, the blessed destiny you have lost tonight.\"\nA brooding sadness mantled the obese face, lending it dignity and a\ntransitory greatness. The soft echoes of the august voice ceased, and\nGuerlan found himself being led by members of the Inner Circle Guard\nback to the atomo-plane that had brought him here from Plastica. He\nwas too dazed to think, a vast, anguished feeling of defeat and shame\nfilled his mind, the words of His Benevolence whom he had dared to\ndoubt, were etched in acid in his brain. But, deep in the recesses of\nhis consciousness, something mocking, something not quite articulate,\nstruggled to plant in his chaotic thoughts, the swiftly growing seeds\nof doubt.\nBehind him, had he only been there to see and hear, a cataract of\nlaughter had engulfed the great Hall, and His Benevolence, surrounded\nby his favorites and the most magnificently beautiful girls of the\nempire, shook in paroxysms of mocking laughter.\nBut Guerlan knew nothing of this. His muscles ached from the battle and\nhis brain was awhirl. Once out in space again, he noted that a great\nstorm was in progress.\nHurtling under guard through the stormy reaches of space, he idly\nwatched through the plane's transparent dome how lightning danced\na drunken saraband. But although Guerlan strove to re-direct his\nthoughts, the echoes of His Benevolence's voice were like a sunset gun\nin his brain--final, incontestable, a sentence to the obscurity of the\nSecond Order, and problems ... he had mentioned a specific problem. And\nGuerlan remembered with chill apprehension the sentence for failure to\nsolve problems in the second order. Three failures brought a warning,\nfive a probation and the sixth ... final judgment.\nThe upper air of the First Level, reserved for the Scientists of the\nFirst Order, had the exhilarating quality of Burgundy. As far as\nGuerlan's eyes could reach, the opaline and prismatic domes of the\nFirst Level's exquisite structures extended in every direction. The\nlight was soft and caressing, thanks to the illumination and climate\nconditioning of the mammoth Weather Stations. A soft, lilting melody\nreminiscent of the ancient ballets of another age of centuries past,\nwas like a ripple of melodic laughter, enhancing a background of\nineffable peace. But Guerlan knew how illusory all this was for him.\nOnly enough time--a few hours to arrange his affairs and move to the\nSecond Level had been granted him. A profound pang of regret was like a\ndull ache in his heart.\nHe had been trained from childhood to be a scientist of the First\nOrder, his mental coordinates had warranted it. So he had never seen\nany other level but the First. Vaguely he had heard of that Second\nlevel where spartan simplicity was a virtue, luxury-less, where\ntoil was constant, and thinking--a dangerous luxury, except where\nwork-problems were concerned. And the columbium steel band around his\nyoung heart seemed to constrict more and more. Quickly he finished\npacking his personal possessions. Nothing else was allowed him--a\nsentence of demotion entailed complete personal loss.\n\"In twenty-seven seconds,\" an impassive voice vaguely reminiscent,\npredicted from the inter-connecting catwalk above, \"the vat will burst,\nflooding the safety moat with acid.\"\nThe marvelous tonal quality was startling, for in its depths there was\nno emotional content--almost as if it were a sexless voice prophesying\nthe most natural thing in the world.\nWith a swift movement that sent the muscles rippling along a\nLeander-like torso, Vyrl Guerlan abandoned the precision tool with\nwhich he had tackled a gigantic refractory coupling. Gleaming with\nperspiration, his square-cut mouth compressed into a line of fury,\nhe gazed up at the speaker and wondered where he'd heard that voice\nbefore. Above him rose the titanic vat of processing acid, that treated\nthe materials and converted them into gelatinous masses in the first\nprocess.\n\"I was a First Order Scientist, I'm now an Analyst,\" Guerlan said\nbrusquely. \"Nothing in my tests indicates such an accident.\" But the\nwhining crescendo of the vat's machinery was threnody in major and\nminor warning of sudden, devastating trouble, as its originally smooth\npurr changed to a cacophony of sound.\n\"Twelve seconds!\" Came the placid voice in reply. \"Care to test _my_\nprediction?\"\nFor an answer Guerlan scrambled up the hetero-plastic ladder to the\nupper catwalk with the agility of dread, his mane of blue-black hair\ntangled and dishevelled, his face white and strained.\nGuerlan towered beside the fragile figure of the scientist, whose\nwasp-like waist and marvelously slender hands gave him an elfin\nquality in comparison with Vyrl's streamlined strength. For an instant\nGuerlan felt an overpowering desire to seize the delicate body in his\nown great hands and break it in two. But the luminous violet eyes\non the abnormally lovely face, appraising him now as if he were a\nparticularly obnoxious specimen, held him in check with their utterly\ncalm detachment. It was then he remembered where he'd last heard those\nimpersonal tones, that sexless voice that seemed devoid of all emotion.\n\"Why ... you're the scientist of the golden mask when I was at\nthe ...\" but a cool hand was suddenly pressed against his lips. A vague\nfragrance as of Venusian jasmines was in Guerlan's nostrils and before\nhe could say any more, a livid crack appeared down the length of the\nvat, growing swiftly until the vat where Guerlan had been working on\nthe defective coupling, split into two halves with a prodigious hiss,\nlike an apple cloven in two.\nA cataract of spuming acid flooded into the safety moat, while\nhundreds of analysts and technicians came scrambling up the opaque\nhetero-plastic ladders that surpassed columbium steel in tensile\nstrength and cycle-endurance for unlike metal, there was no fatigue\nfactor. A babel of voices rose above the broken hum of the machinery\nand the swirling hiss of the released acid. Intolerable fumes taxing\nthe conditioners in the safety towers, burned the membranes of their\nnostrils and mouths as they gasped for air.\nAnd, above the hum of the machinery, the growing turmoil of\npanic-stricken technicians and tumult of excited voices, rose the\ncrystalline tones of the slender scientist once more:\n\"_Vat 66 explodes in twelve minutes!_\"\nA desperate look--the look of a trapped animal glazed Guerlan's green\neyes. If this was true, it was the end for him.\n\"The organic acid vat!... But, it's impossible!\" He gasped.\nYet, inwardly, even as he denied the possibility, he knew with\nsoul-wrenching dread, and the certitude of a _perceptive_ that it was\ntrue.\nBut he didn't have time to think, to plan a solution of the problem,\nfor already the outpouring technicians were sweeping him onward in\na desperate exodus toward the multiple conveyors that reached every\nsection and floor of the titanic structure that was known as Plastic\nNo. 15. Once as he was being pushed forward by the press of horrified\nanalysts, synthetizers, selectors, graders and all the technical\ncomplement of the Second Order who actually transformed all foods,\nmaterials, minerals and in fact everything produced in Neptune, he\nglimpsed the calm features of the scientist he had first seen at the\nFeast of the Jewels in the City of the Sphere, and it seemed to him\nthere was a hint of pity in the violet eyes.\nGuerlan's face was white as _Jadite_ as he roared orders in an effort\nto stem the maddened flood of men. He exhorted them to don their masks\nof crysto-plast and try to hold back the expected explosion, but no\none paid any attention; it was doubtful if they even understood him\nin their growing horror of the dread, corrosive acid that converted\norganic matter into a secret formula that none but the Scientists of\nthe Inner Circle were permitted to know anything about. They never saw\nthe final product under the penalty of death.\nAt last they debouched into the conveyors, and Guerlan, among a\ngroup of others, was taken to the Dispersors--platforms where the\nultra-sensitive dispersal machines sensitized to the vibrations of\ntheir individual plastic wrist-band of rank, unerringly sent them to\ntheir proper levels.\nGuerlan's generous mouth was compressed into a pale scimitar. His odd,\nslanting green eyes with long dark lashes, were almost black with\nrebellious fury. Suddenly he was shunted into a special conveyor and a\nplatform where the conveyors to the inner corridors revolved.\n\"They already know!\" He exclaimed bitterly. And he was not wrong.\nFor presently a plastic arm the color and texture of aluminum, but\nincredibly stronger gathered him in and gently pushed him into an\nalcove that immediately became hermetically sealed the very moment he\nhad entered. Guerlan saw that he was in an Efficiency Cubicle where\ntechnicians were periodically tested. Before him stood a towering\nNeuro-graph entirely fashioned of several types of plastics including\ncrystallite, as transparent as its namesake. It was an invention so\ncomplicated that it resembled nothing so much as a multiplication\nof tesseracts. Presently it became activated by Guerlan's mental\nfrequency, and one of its slender rods moved forward silently.\nA magnetic current went through the analyst and held him rigid, while\nanother rod clamped a plastic helmet over the young man's head. For\nseveral seconds the almost inaudible sighing of the complex machinery\nwas the only thing that disturbed the silence. Then, in precise,\nclipped tones an uncannily human voice began in sonorous tones to\nsummarize his mental and physical coordinates:\n\"Efficiency totally neutralized by intense mental stress. Subject\nsuffering from psycho-atavistic retrogression. Paranoiac tendencies\nwith delusions of persecution. Immediate fear of death ... intense.\"\nThere was a pause in which Guerlan had time to remember how many times\nhe had attended councils with other Scientists of the First Order, when\nthe readings of the Master Neuro-graph on the First Level from which\nhe'd been ejected, had been tabulated from the readings of the various\nneuro-graphs in the Plastic Centers and transmitted to the Council of\nthe Inner Circle in the City of the Sphere. Guerlan, his eyes flaming,\nhis face mutinous, awaited for the recommendation. It was not long in\ncoming.\n\"Report to Psychiatry III for amnesiac treatment for removal of\n_superfluous_ knowledge. Recommendation: _Reclassify for Level III_.\"\n\"Damn them!\" The desperate rebellion of a man condemned to worse than\ndeath rose from his heart as the magnetic rod freed him and the helmet\nwas removed from his head.\nHe began to circle the cubicle like a trapped animal. \"Level III!\"\nHe wailed inwardly. The Level of the Automatons conditioned to\nslave-labor, dwelling in semi-darkness and squalor, on a diet\nrestricted to barest essentials of energy units, until finally the\nBlessed Sleep claimed him--whatever that was, he shuddered. He'd\nhad six failures in his section--Plastic No. 15, and six meant the\nultimate sentence. There was no trial, no jury, no opportunity even of\nexplaining or seeking in a rational manner the reason for those ghastly\nexplosions. Inexorably, the Law was final. But who was _The Law_?\nFrom the high Level of a First Order Scientist engaged in scientific\nwork that had resulted in the miraculous array of plastics that had\nmade their civilization a thing of undreamed-of power and wealth,\nhe was cast without recourse to the Level of Darkness--memory-less,\nreflex-conditioned, practically mindless except for slavish toil and\nanimal needs.\nLittle had he dreamed, even when a Scientist of the First Order, that\nthere existed such stupendous extremes as the fantastic splendor of\nthe City of the Sphere, and the hellish misery of Level III. The\nNeuro-graph was speaking again in the sonorous, purple period that made\nhis hackles rise.\n\"Analyst Guerlan,\" it intoned and paused impressively. \"You have failed\nin your _Allotment_. Six accidents have destroyed enormous wealth\nand caused inexcusable damage. You had not less than five previous\nrepetitions of the same type of accident to study and find a solution\nto the problem ... a problem given you because of your blasphemous\nattitude toward the Inner Circle. The sixth explosion was your epitaph.\nRetribution _is_ The Law.\n\"You will be immediately conditioned for Level III. Amnesiac Treatment\nwill be administered to save needless suffering--we are merciful--a\nrobot-proctor will guide you henceforth through the various stages. A\nProtector has spoken.\" The icy voice was silent.\nGuerlan wondered which Protector had passed sentence. The hum of the\nmachine told of coordinators falling into place as his mental and\npsychic state was recorded, the amount of energy of his metabolism\nchecked and the time potential of his servitude unerringly estimated. A\nlivid glow enveloped the strange instrument, and then, silently, a part\nof the seemingly blank wall behind him slid aside for a robot-proctor's\nentrance.\nGuerlan knew that the inexorable sentence had been transmitted by\nremote control through incredibly delicate processes to the machine\nbefore him. But who'd decided on the sentence, or why the reason\nfor its harsh cruelty, he had no way of knowing. He doubted if the\nelephantine Protector in Chief had bothered to pass it. But Guerlan had\nno time to dwell on this question, for the bery-plastic robot-proctor,\nits non-abradable crystallite eyes gleaming, had grasped him firmly by\nthe elbow to lead him away.\nIt was then that Guerlan acted without preconceived plan. His\nmagnificent chest arched as he sucked in air; then with a sinuous\nmovement of vertiginous speed, he twisted free and swooping downwards\nat the same time he grasped the robot by its legs and then heaved with\na muscle-wrenching effort, flinging the plastic man with shattering\nimpact into the Neuro-graph. A dry, staccato rattle followed the\nrending crash. Part of the robot-proctor protruded from what had been\nthe machine's crystallite dome and fragments of delicate mechanism and\nscintillating shards of priceless _Jadite_ showered on the plastic\nfloor.\nInstantly the cubicle was illuminated by a vivid, crimson fluorescence,\nwhile the opening in the wall began rapidly to close. But Vyrl Guerlan\nwas already speeding toward the closing aperture. Instantly he was\nthrough, seconds later only a blank wall showed where an opening had\nbeen. A series of alarms in coordinated prismatic flashes flared in\nevery direction, activating the Safety Machines. Long, crane-like\nalumi-plastic arms extended from ramps and conveyor-heads to trap\nhim; all efficiency cubicles became hermetically sealed cells, and\nover all, a shrill maddening whine rose in fiendish wail, insistent,\nnerve-shattering.\nGuerlan knew death was at his heels. He dodged the gasping arms and\nmagnetic traps, straining his extra-sensory perception to its fullest\npower without slowing down the killing pace he maintained. Still he\nwondered how long he could last against the diabolical ingenuity of\nthe Inner Circle. If he only had some human to go up against, with\natomo-pistols, or the more devastating supernal fire of the electronic\nflash, forbidden to all but the Inner Circle Scientist--or even the\nprimitive swords and rapiers used to hunt Irreconcilables in Neptune's\nvast forests. But machines! Soulless, cold plastic machines! His\ncapable hands clenched and unclenched as he flung himself toward the\nascending conveyor before him, his breath labored, his chest heaving.\n\"No, idiot ... not that one!\" There was an intense urgency in the\ncrystalline voice that speared into his consciousness. Even before he\nturned to locate the speaker, he recognized the voice. Twice before in\na moment of crisis he'd heard it.\n\"You!\" Guerlan breathed explosively. He tensed himself to leap upon the\nfragile figure at the least movement. But once more the preternaturally\ncalm gaze from the violet eyes held him in thrall.\n\"That conveyor was purposely set in motion to trap you ... it leads to\nPsychiatry III where you would have been neutralized, Guerlan. Take the\nblue, lapiz-lazuli conveyor behind you to the right. Hurry! We've only\nseconds before the chamber is gassed!\"\nSuiting action to his words, the slender scientist dashed to the\ngleaming plastic conveyor that imitated in all its sapphirine\nperfection the blue glory of lapiz-lazuli. In an instant Guerlan was\nbeside the scientist in a leap. He grasped the fragile shoulder with\nfingers that dug into rounded flesh.\n\"If this is a trap, you die with me,\" he said briefly.\n\"Your fingers,\" the scientist remarked impassively, \"are like columbium\nsteel. Suppose you await developments before indulging in atavistic\nimpulses--besides, a real man offers no violence to a woman!\"\n\"A woman ... you?\" Guerlan's dazed expression was ludicrous. \"I thought\nyou were one of those repugnantly beautiful 'Intermediates' the Inner\nCircle uses for intricate mental synthesis.\"\n\"Am I repugnantly beautiful?\" the scientist asked in cold detachment,\nluminous violet eyes gazing inscrutably into the reddening features of\nthe young analyst.\nGuerlan gazed at the exquisite face before him, and said laconically,\n\"On the contrary.\" He was too confused for words just now.\n\"My name is Perlac,\" the girl scientist said without preamble. \"Listen\ncarefully. This conveyor happens to be the only one that leads to the\naero-dome. All the rest have no exit, for although you do not know\nit, every rest period you are directed to exit-conveyors by magnetic\ncoordinators that act on impulses sent by Selectors. These selectors\nare attuned to the mental wave-length of the individual. No scientist,\nanalyst or technician may leave a plastic center without being tested\nand their fitness for even limited temporary freedom established ...\n_not even to rest_! That is why the direction of the conveyors is\nchanged for every allotment period and no one is permitted to know\nwhich is the exit conveyor! Had you remained in City of the Sphere and\njoined the Inner Circle, you would have learned all this.\"\nGuerlan stared at Perlac in incredulity. \"But ... where are the\nSelectors? I've never seen them!\"\n\"Is that strange? They're in the walls, imbedded in the flooring\nbeneath your feet ... oh, in a thousand places! But we've no time for\ninvolved explanations just now. We're nearing the Aero-dome. Prepare\nfor the worst; but if we can get to my plane, we'll be beyond capture.\"\n\"In a slow, propulsion type craft?\" Guerlan asked unbelievingly. \"We'll\nbe captured in minutes, if not blasted out of the Second Level by\nRobot-Proctors!\"\nPerlac turned and gazed into the young analyst's eyes; a gentle, slow\nsmile illumined her features like a tardy dawn.\nSuddenly they were at the vast platform that exited into the Aero-dome,\nbut where the great section of wall should have slid aside, it remained\nblank and hermetically closed. It was a definite dead end.\nFar below them a greenish opalescence began to rise in tenuous,\nbillowing clouds, and the faint odor of new-mown hay came almost\nimperceptibly to their nostrils. From the bowels of the gigantic\nplant, robot-proctors began to debouch onto the blue conveyor in\nserried ranks, impervious to death. Guerlan gazed curiously at the\ngirl scientist. \"Looks like your plan has failed, Perlac. What I can't\nunderstand is why you've thrown your lot in with me. I'm condemned ...\nfirst it was to Level II, then for six failures to the living death of\nLevel III, and now that I have rebelled, I have no end but death. You\nmust have known there were _six failures_!\"\n\"Yes, I knew ... that's why I'm here.\" The unearthly voice was barely\na whisper. \"Ever since the night you were at the Feast of the Jewels\nand you were appalled at the debauchery of the Inner Circle, you\nhave been chosen. And my plan has not failed!\" There was a world of\nconviction in the exquisite voice, yet she said it softly, very softly\nindeed.\nSlowly Perlac raised her hand, and Guerlan saw it held a tiny, slender\ninstrument the butt of which was a round ball concealed in the palm of\nher hand. It was the dreadful electronic-flash, and she calmly aimed\nit at the blank wall, playing it up and down its length. The seemingly\nimpenetrable wall of toughest bery-plastic parted from top to bottom\nunder the supernal fire of the electronic-flash, as the electronic\nbalance of the plastic's atomic structure was disrupted and literally\ndispersed into space. There was no flash, no explosion, nothing but\na silent widening of the breach, until it was wide enough to permit\nGuerlan's herculean shoulders to squeeze through.\nNothing seemed to have issued from the instrument in Perlac's hand, no\nbeam of force, no light--literally nothing, yet, the strongest material\nknown to their civilization, surpassing even the heaviest columbium\nsteel armor, had been riven in seconds.\n[Illustration: _Guerlan followed Perlac through the gaping hole._]\nOnce out in the immense Aero-dome, the platform was filled with\nships of every description under robot-proctor guard, from tiny\nelectro-copters with retractible vanes, to a large, powerful cruiser\nreserved for Inspectors of the First Order. The moment Perlac and\nGuerlan came into view, the robot-proctors aimed their electro-pistols\nand atomo-pistols, but Perlac already had covered them with her\nelectronic-flash and their plastic bodies disintegrated in seconds.\n\"The Cruiser!\" Guerlan was exultant. \"That's what we need, it has the\nspeed and endurance, and perhaps we can get by the robot-guard at the\nouter gates of the shell, and reach the forests!\"\n\"No,\" Perlac shook her gold-red mane, \"we'll take my ship, no time\nto argue now ... you'll see!\" She was already running toward a\nblunt-looking four-seater of the electro-type usually reserved for\nscientists of the First Order who were not inspectors.\nGuerlan hesitated, exasperation written in his face. To disdain a\npowerful cruiser for this slow-going, vulnerable craft was beyond\nhis comprehension. But Perlac without slackening her stride made a\nperemptory motion with her slender hand and shouted: \"Follow me! I've\nbeen right thus far; trust me, you fool!\"\nBehind them, through the breach in the wall a phalanx of robot-proctors\nwas emerging, and wisps of green gas were beginning to reach the\nAero-dome.\nIn giant strides Guerlan covered the distance to Perlac's plane and\nentered its cabin. The die was cast, after all he owed her his life in\na way. But for her he would be in Psychiatry III right now.\nHe had scarcely strapped himself, when the ordinary-looking craft shot\nforward in a dazzling burst of acceleration that pressed Guerlan back\nagainst the mullioned seat with almost paralyzing force. But even then\nhis trained faculties noted the sheath of columbium with which the\nplane was completely lined, and his ears detected the unmistakable hum\nof powerful atomic engines. One glance at the complex instrument panel\ntold him that here was a craft that was far more than it seemed to be.\nBut he'd scarcely time to begin to think order out of chaos, when a\ngrowing nausea born of the steadily increasing acceleration cleaved his\ntongue to his palate, and his lower jaw slowly twisted to one side.\nPerlac, an immobile figurine of alabaster, eyes closed, seemed crushed\nagainst her seat. On and on the plane sped slanting upwards as if\ndetermined to crash the transparent barrier that separated them from\nthe next level. And then as suddenly as it began, their terrific speed\nslackened and the plane levelled off. The intense agony Guerlan had\nmomentarily felt dwindled and disappeared. He saw the girl manipulate\nwhat was evidently a robot control, setting it for a new direction and\nrate of speed, then lock it in place.\n\"Look downwards, Guerlan, there to our right,\" Perlac whispered.\nAn umbrella of atomo-planes in all the sleek glory of deadly\ninterceptors, spread below them in battle formation; behind them the\nimmense plastic pylons that supported the next tier, and the crenelated\nsuperstructure of Level II, combined with distance to dwarf them\ninto toy-like dimensions. The semi-transparent roof of Level II was\ndangerously near, Guerlan saw, and the forest of pylons dead ahead that\nmarked the center of their level was another fatal hazard. But Perlac\nmanipulated the intricate controls with casual ease, leaving the rate\nof speed and general direction to the robot-control, she merely made\nminute adjustments.\n\"We outdistanced them!\" Guerlan was awed. That anything in the\npossession of even an Inner Circle scientist could outdistance the\nPursuit Fleet of the Protector in Chief was unimaginable.\n\"This spacer's something His Benevolence would give the Diadem Jewel\nfor--or rather for the secret of its construction!\" The girl laughed\nsoftly. \"It's atomic, of course, but a variation based on a principle\nthat goes beyond Terran equations.\"\nGuerlan gazed wonderingly at the exquisite features of the fragile\ngirl-scientist, marveling at the incredible courage of this puzzling\nbeing who unaccountably had chosen to throw in her lot with his own.\n\"Perlac,\" Guerlan spoke thoughtfully. \"I'm afraid today has been\nsomething of a mystery. From what I've seen you do to that Aero-dome\nwall, the inexplicable accidents of the acid vats were undoubtedly your\ndoing. Yet, you've saved my life and in so doing forfeited your own.\nWhy? What interest can you possibly have in a doomed life such as mine?\"\nThe girl smiled slowly, ineffably, in a mixture of melancholy sweetness\nand inexpressable sadness. She turned her golden head slightly and when\nshe spoke her voice had sombre overtones rich with emotion.\n\"Do you know what is piped into the so-called organic vats, Guerlan?\nNo, you wouldn't know. Plants, you thought, beasts and cattle and dead\nflesh.... Dead, yes. The murdered bodies of human beings, such as _you_\nwould have been!\"\nAll Guerlan's rigid training rose in protest at the charge against\nthe Protector in Chief. It could not be! There could be no murder in\nPlastica, duels yes, honorable combat between men ... but murder!\nHe acknowledged that the Laws of Plastic, Inc., were ruthless and\nharsh, and the Inner Circle had become lax in their supervision,\nuntil Plastics, Inc., had become an octopus. But to imply that His\nBenevolence would countenance cold-blooded murder ... every fiber of\nhis being revolted from such a charge.\nAnd then he remembered the Feast of the Jewels, and the travesty of\njustice in his case, and he was silenced.\n\"His Benevolence and the Inner Circle _are_ Plastics, Inc.\" Perlac\ncontinued imperturbably as if reading his thoughts. \"Don't argue now,\nstrap yourself in and prepare for an orbital fall, we'll wheel in\ndirect ratio with the rotation of the planet then dive in a concentric\nspiral that will become tighter and tighter until we reach our\nobjective. It is the only way we can elude the robot-proctor patrol....\nLook, they are climbing already. The plane's robot control is set\nand timed--it will take us there. No human being can possibly retain\nconsciousness to guide the plane in such a maneuver,\" she explained,\npale as alabaster.\nBefore Vyrl Guerlan had time to do else but tighten the broad straps\nand lean back against the mullioned seat, the girl had touched a series\nof knobs. Suddenly the craft began to wheel with meteoric speed, then\ndived with a violence that sent the landscape spinning into a fantastic\npattern that quickly blurred. Guerlan felt as if the very marrow in\nhis bones had liquefied, an intolerable pain lanced at the back of\nhis brain like an atomic needle, and his face was contorted into a\nspasmodic grimace he was unable to control. He tried to close his eyes\nbut couldn't, tried to shout and suddenly plummeted into an abyss.\nThey were diving downward into the outskirts of the immense city, down\na secret inter-communicating passage that connected the various levels,\npast the third, fourth and finally into a yawning chasm where all\nwas darkness. The hurtling craft sped on unerringly as if drawn by a\nmagnetic beam.\nWhen Guerlan finally awoke, he found himself in intense darkness. Only\nhis labored breath disturbed the silence. Motionless, his body a living\npain, he tried to adjust his thoughts and piece together the jig-saw\npuzzle of the last few hours. Groping into his tunic he brought out an\natomo-torch. By its discreet illumination, he saw that the girl was\nquivering like a being in torture. Gently he massaged her temples and\nthe base of her neck then her soft, white throat; with infinite care he\nopened her mouth and inserted a pellet of _alphaline_ to stimulate her\nheart, then stroked the gleaming red-gold hair back from her forehead\nuntil the girl showed signs of coming to.\n\"Have you any stimulants aboard?\" he asked her, when Perlac opened\nher eyes. \"I feel drained, but that's nothing to what you must feel,\nPerlac!\"\nShe gave him a pallid smile. \"There,\" she pointed weakly, \"to the left\nof the instrument panel.\"\nGuerlan pressed the combination lock and found in the compartment a\nfull kit of surgical instruments and bandages in a superb _Jadite_\ncase. A priceless flask of _Sapphirac_ filled with sterile water, and,\nto his intense surprise, a Platino-plastic bottle, encrusted with\ntourmalines more brilliant than emeralds and filled with the utterly\nproscribed _Sulfalixir_!\n\"That ... that's it,\" Perlac gasped and reached for the bottle in\nGuerlan's hand.\n\"But, it's deadly!\" Guerlan was aghast. \"How can you risk addiction to\nthat dreadful drug?\"\n\"You're a victim of conditioning.\" Even as weak as she felt, Perlac\nmanaged a low laugh, \"_Sulfalixir_ is a miracle drug--not what you've\nbeen taught to believe.\" She drank sparingly and offered him the\nbottle, but Guerlan drew back in categorical refusal. \"As you wish. Now\nwe must leave the plane.\"\n\"But where in ten thousand Hellacoriums are we?\" Guerlan's voice was\nmutinous. \"I've been a pawn in a game ever since I went to the sphere\nand blasphemed, since you burst the acid vat and exploded Organic 66!\nBy Neptune's Moon I'll be dissolved if I stir another step without\nknowing what this is all about!\" His green eyes were wide and gleaming,\nhis handsome face set in rigid lines.\n\"All right, atavism! You're on Level Five, and you're going to a\nmeeting. I want you to appraise what the Amnesiac treatment does to\nhuman beings, and how the condemned live on this level. The third\nlevel is sheer luxury compared to this. You Scientists of the First\nLevel have no conception of what happens on the third, fourth and\nfifth levels, where life ceases to be even existence and becomes....\"\nBut words failed her, and she fell back against her mullioned seat\nbreathing heavily. After a pause she asked: \"Will you come now?\"\n\"No,\" Guerlan grinned. \"I'll lead the way. It was an experience seeing\nyou in a fury; blessed if I thought anything could disturb you!\" He\nstood up and pressed the plane's dome release and the stale, fetid air\nof the nether regions of the city swept in. Only the conditioners broke\nthe silence with their constantly iterated and reiterated subconscious\nhomily of simple, child-like thought-patterns for the amnesiacs. It\nwas an eternal reiteration of the \"Conditioning Controls\" which no\namnesiac could ever escape, except at intervals when the amnesiac\ncounter-reaction set in as their metabolism building up a resistance\nto the administered drug rendered them impervious and they regained a\nmeasure of their former memories as consciousness returned. That was\nthe period of danger, when they were at the verge of any madness, in\ntheir utter hopelessness. Deliberately they invited death. But here in\nthese vast catacombs, their end was but a detail, and the organic vats\neventually received them.\n\"Listen!\" It was Perlac's voice indistinct with indignation, \"listen to\nthe 'conditioners,' Guerlan!\"\n\"Sleep ... sleep now. Deep, dreamless sleep ... for the conservation\nof your energy is your noblest effort ... so you may conserve your\nstrength for work ... work ... you must, you absolutely must\n_Achieve_ ... so that you may fulfill your maximum allotment ...\nmaximum ... and be rewarded.... Sleep ... sleep....\"\nEndlessly the fiendish mosaic of lies and psychological half-truths\nwent on and on, imbedding itself in the violated minds that slept in\nthe stupor of the utterly exhausted.\nGuerlan shivered. A malefic aura of death and torture seemed woven into\nthe matrix of darkness that surrounded them. The very odor of death\nwas in their nostrils as they left the atomo-plane by the light of his\ntorch and faced the narrow, tortuous thoroughfare that wended its way\nfrom the wide circle where the plane had come to rest.\nPerlac pressed close to him and her slender hand gripped his arm.\nThere were no robot-proctors in sight, none were needed here where\nno amnesiac ever left alive. No victims were in sight, for the day\nworkers rested and the nocturnal shift toiled in their prisoning\nworkrooms. Behind them, in front of them, from every side, the\nConditioners continued their endless chant: \"Loyalty ... obedience ...\nunquestioningly you must achieve ... for our glorious State.\"\nIn the abysmal darkness their atomo-torch was a pool of light that\nadvanced before them. But Perlac unerringly went directly to a building\nwhose front seemed to be an impenetrable, blank wall. She pressed a\nhidden mechanism near the far corner of the structure, and presently\na door slid aside, revealing a passageway to the beam of the torch.\nOnce within, Guerlan became aware it was some sort of dormitory, for\nstretched on rows of cots made of cheap plastic, the amnesiacs slept in\ntheir leaden tunics. These were the pitchblende workers who had but a\nbrief life-period, due to the radiations.\nIn another corridor slept the brown-tunics, the organic-matter workers,\nblood-stained from their gruesome labors, their stertorous breathing\nwitness to their exhaustion. Perlac kept on rapidly going from corridor\nto corridor until she stopped at a door leading to the cellar, opening\nit, she scrambled down a plastic ladder, followed by Guerlan, and\nfinally into a sub-cellar gallery that wound tortuously into the very\nbowels of Neptune.\nHere were the sightless wrecks who lived in eternal darkness and whose\ntask was to tend the machinery that air-conditioned and kept reasonably\nwarm the dreadful Fifth Level. Some seemed strangely twisted and had\nthe loathsome whiteness of fungi, others mindlessly tottered by like\nautomatons. Guerlan drew aside in a mixture of nausea and profound\npity. A welling, terrible anger strove to rise within him at the sight\nof these horrors that went by like Dantesque shadows of the damned.\nAt last Perlac stopped and made six curious rasping sounds at a heavy\nrocky section of the dripping wall.\nAs if in a nightmare, Guerlan saw part of the stone surface pivot\nsilently inward, and before them was another passageway. But this\none was immaculately clean, completely sheathed in neutral grey\nhetero-plastic, and the aura-lumes diffused a gentle light that was\nsoft and yet perfectly measured. The murmur of voices reached them, and\nthe air was fresh and exhilarating after the fetid, miasmic air of the\nFifth Level and the sub-cellars.\n\"We have arrived, Guerlan!\" Perlac gazed at the young scientist, as\nif essaying to appraise his reactions to what he'd seen en route.\n\"You're going to meet the leaders of the Irreconcilables ... not those\npoor creatures of the forests and jungles, but the real 'underground'\nthat has but one purpose--Freedom from the Protectors. Now, do you\nunderstand why you were brought here?\"\nGuerlan nodded in silence. His face was impassive, but the odd,\nslanting green eyes were burning with lambent fires and his powerful\nhands were knotted.\nWithin seconds the passageway led them to an immense cavern--on Terra\nit would have been unthinkable, but in keeping with Neptune's bulk,\nthe cavern was a gargantuan retreat. Stupendous stalactites pending\nfrom the ceiling defied adjectives, their bases lost in darkness.\nThe walls as far as the eye could reach were sheathed in a gleaming\nplastic new to Guerlan. The floor, too, was resilient plastic, smooth\nand perfectly laid, as if an army of workmen and machines had labored\non its perfection, which indeed they had. Buildings clustered at the\nfar distant end, like a miniature city; and in the very center of the\nvast grotto, surrounded by an army of scientists and technicians, an\natomo-Spacer, super-armored and longer than any Guerlan had ever seen,\nrested in its cradle in all its sleek, shining glory.\nTesting and repair machines were scattered around the great\nsubterranean chamber, driven by technicians and coordinators who worked\nfeverishly, silently, as if engaged in a life-and-death race with time.\nToward the left, where the cavern extended into another vast grotto,\nan ordine-plastic building caught Guerlan's eye because of the\nfact that it was ordine. That plastic was used only where need\nfor the staunchest material existed. Ordine, an adaptation of the\nplastic mineral principle, could withstand a siege--was practically\nindestructible, and Guerlan wondered what it housed. Perlac sensed his\ncuriosity and gazed in turn at the great structure. Her eyes brooding\nand dark with an emotion he could not fathom slowly filled with tears.\n\"That's the psycho-clinic,\" she told him. \"We try to neutralize the\namnesiac treatment, sometimes successfully, sometimes not. Under\ncertain conditions, it can be neutralized, but remember the amnesiac\ntreatment here on Level Five is an intensification of the treatment\napplied on Levels Three and Four.... They're practically lost when they\ncome here, but our work in the higher levels is too dangerous to be\ncarried out in large numbers. Care to go in and watch the therapy used?\"\n\"Yes.\" Guerlan's laconic reply was an index of his mental state.\nWords came with difficulty in the face of this ghastly drama that had\nsuddenly unfolded before his eyes.\nHe wondered about the other cities, Perdura, and Telluria and\nsemi-tropical Columbia, with its warm springs and teeming soil where\nthe most exquisite delicacies for the Inner Council, and to a lesser\nextent the First Order were grown. Wondered if they, too, were\ncondemned to this inhuman rule of death and oppression.\nPerlac made a signal to one of the technicians, and a two-seater\n\"Treader\" with its revolving belt instead of wheels moved out from\namong the parked vehicles. But before Guerlan and Perlac could enter\nthe swift surface car, a dull roar that seemed to shake the very\nfoundations of the cavern paralyzed all movement, as if in a slow\nmotion-picture of ancient days, a tremendous section of the cavern wall\nfell in a shower of rock and plastic, and through the gaping breach,\nrank upon serried rank of \"Intermediates\" poured through. They wore\nthe Inner Council's conventional plastic armor, vividly scarlet, with\ntight-fitting helmets of crysto-plast. Silently they deployed with grim\nprecision and aimed their atomo-rifles.\nBut if they had expected to wreak havoc aided by the element of\nsurprise, they were mistaken. Technicians and scientists working on the\nsuper-spacer, instantly entered the armored ship, while the army of\nmechanics, graders, coordinators and workmen, who labored on treaders\nand tended the mechanical appliances and repair machines, took cover in\nand behind their charges.\nFor a second Guerlan had been frozen in his tracks. The thought that\nflashed into his mind was one of exultation instead of despair. Here\nwas an enemy he could really fight. All the pent-up fury, the terrible\nanger of a decent man who has had all his beliefs swept away in a\nmatter of hours, who had seen depths of human degradation he had never\ndreamed possible, was like a bath of cold fire that left him calm,\ndetermined and with one desire ... to exterminate.\nAs if she were a doll, Guerlan swept Perlac beside the armored\n\"Treader\" and without preamble snatched the Electro-Flash the girl\nwore at her waist. \"Keep covered. Let me do the fighting!\" He\nexclaimed, impervious to her outraged stare. Carefully he aimed at the\nforemost leader of the Intermediates, and the obscenely beautiful,\nsexless warrior, crumpled as part of him instantly dissolved. A vast,\ncoruscating sheet of blue, atomic fire swept forward from the deadly\natomo-rifles of the invaders, and vehicles, technicians, and several\nmachines, became a welter of smoking flesh and melting metal.\nIt was then the super-spacer went into action with its two frontal\natomo-guns, the thunderous echoes vibrated with tympani-shattering\nforce, and Guerlan saw a phalanx of Intermediates vanish as if they\nwere leaves in a wind.\nUnaware of doing so, Guerlan was bellowing exultantly, as he played the\nElectro-Flash horizontally across another phalanx that had succeeded\nin gaining the proximity of the Spacer. They had seen him now, and\nthe survivors aimed their atomo-rifles at the treader that sheltered\nthem from the blue fire. But before they could bring their fire into\nfocus, the supernal fire of the electro-flash had decimated them. A few\nmanaged to direct the stream of atomic fire on the treader, however,\nand half of it was a molten mass while the rest was already cherry red\nand the heat becoming unendurable.\nElectro-rifles, atomo-pistols, the guns from the giant spacer and a few\nelectro-flash weapons were concentrated on the Intermediates who by\nsheer force of numbers had gained the center of the Cave.\nAnd then they were met by a wall of flesh. From the buildings at the\nfurther end and from every vehicle and machine a wall of humanity\nsurged forward, firing ceaselessly, hacking with long-swords and\nponiards; and the carnage under the brilliant plastilumes was without\nquarter ... to the death. Slowly, inch by inch, the Intermediates were\ndriven back. Scores had died, and the losses among the defenders were\nappalling; it seemed as if a Pyrrhic victory was to be the end. And\nthen, like creatures from a nightmare, released from depths of living\nhell, a motley, ragged, maddened multitude came shrieking, shouting\nand hurling imprecations from the chaste building Perlac had called\nthe Psycho-clinic. Like avenging furies, they flung themselves at the\nhard-pressed Intermediates. Wounds did not stop them; atomic-fire left\ngaping holes in their ranks, around which the survivors raced on.\nImpervious to pain, and welcoming death, these travesties of human\nbeings fought with the savagery of madness.\nThey were the Amnesiacs. Deprived of the hypnotic drug, partly in\npossession of their faculties and their memories, they remembered! And\nremembering, they paid back for the torture of a lifetime!\nAssailed from every side, the crack Inner Circle battalion of\nIntermediates split into two halves and strove to meet both fronts. But\nGuerlan with a cry that would have done credit to a Venusian _Calamar_,\nsnatched the sword from a fallen technician and raced to where the\nAmnesiacs were tangled in a death struggle. With the electro-flash\nin his left hand, he stabbed and hacked at exposed limbs and through\nshattered crysto-plast. And the battle turned slowly, increasing in\ntempo until it was a rout that pressed the remaining Intermediates\ninto a demoralized race of life. But they were not to escape. Out of\nall control, all semblance of humanity now, the remaining Amnesiacs\nwere a screaming horror that pursued the quarry and pulled it down\nlike the giant _Calamar_ of Venus pulls down its prey in the virgin\nforests, until only the moaning wounded and the dead remained on the\nblood-drenched plastic flooring of the titanic grotto.\nGuerlan never knew when the battle was finally over. His tunic was a\ncrimson stain from top to bottom; a long slash across his ribs to the\ncenter of his powerful chest, had left a shallow gash that dripped a\nslow gout of blood. His shoulder was seared by a slanting atomic-blast\nthat would have taken half of him had it come any nearer. He became\naware of the ghastly silence only when Perlac's marvelously slender\nhand was pressed to his cheek, and her melodious voice was repeating:\n\"Guerlan, Guerlan, my dear!\" He turned and saw her eyes were aswim with\nunshed tears.\nHe took her hand in his powerful ones without a word, and held it\ncaressingly, while all about them was a shambles of death and wreckage.\n\"My initiation,\" he said slowly, huskily, with a hint of a smile in his\nlong, green eyes.\n\"I knew I was not wrong in choosing you,\" Perlac replied and bravely\nessayed a smile, too; but she had reached the end of her physical\nresources and with a whispered, \"Oh, my dear,\" she wilted unconscious\nin his arms.\nGuerlan lifted her fragile form as if she were a precious doll and\nwalked toward the super-spacer; a group of scientists who had emerged\nfrom its interior, watched his approach with a hint of anxiety as they\nmotioned for him to hurry. Among them, a tall, elderly scientist of\nthe second order, whose white mane was like an aureole about the pale,\nsharp-featured face, hurried forward as if unable to contain himself.\n\"Is Perlac wounded?\" He inquired with a world of worry in his voice.\n\"Tell me, man! Hurry!\"\n\"Peace,\" Guerlan answered wearily. \"She's not harmed, just fainted ...\nthe miracle is that she's been able to stand as much as she has. Have\nyou restoratives?\"\n\"Bring her into the plane, we have everything needed, stranger. Praised\nbe the Ultimate Power she has not been harmed!\" Then he drew himself\nerect as he and Guerlan came abreast of each other, and said with\nquiet dignity:\n\"I am Paulan, ex-scientist of the first order, now Leader of the\nUnderground. I saw you fight with us. Welcome, my son.\" His eyes\nwere as clear and as blue as a child's, but the fires of a profound\nintellect shone from their depths.\n\"The time,\" Guerlan was speaking, \"is now, not at some supposedly\npsychological moment logically thought by the Board. I'm a new member,\ntrue, but it is evident the Inner Circle has been aware of your\nactivities for some time, or they wouldn't have sent such a well-armed,\nultra-trained battalion of Intermediates. The time to strike is now!\nUnless you want to await an attack in such force that this cavern will\nbecome a hecatomb.\"\n\"We are already harassing them in every city,\" Paulan said\nthoughtfully. \"Vats are exploding regularly, amnesiacs are being\nrestored to usefulness and our forces are increasing day by day. What\nmore would you propose, my son, an attack on the city of the sphere?\"\nAll eyes in the heavily guarded and armed Board meeting room were upon\nthe young scientist. At the head of the long, exquisite Platino-plastic\ntable sat Paulan, the leader, and at his right sat Perlac. All down the\nlength of the great table, scientists of the first and second orders,\nanalysts, technicians, and even members of the lower strata chosen\nfor their value to the movement, sat to consider the crisis. Their\nunderground movement was in the open now, and they could expect nothing\nbut extermination at the hands of the Inner Circle.\n\"That would be madness at present,\" spoke a tiny Venusian, not more\nthan four and a half feet tall, wrapped in his long, scarlet wings that\njoined to the sides of his fragile body, reached from wrists to his\nankles. \"Although,\" he grinned impishly, \"I would like to take a crack\nat them in their holy of holies!\"\nMorluc, the Martian, snorted.\n\"Mars will help, but we must have a share of the machinery and plastics\nof Neptune ... a _preferred_ share,\" he emphasized gazing disdainfully\nat the Venusian member.\n\"Equal shares!\" the latter snapped dryly. \"Mars' help is still to be\nseen, as your excellence is aware!\" The Venusian drove his point home\nwith emphatic gestures.\n\"We've offered our fleet!\" Morluc, the Martian member, said stiffly.\n\"Can any more be asked?\"\nCarladin, the Venusian, shrugged his shoulders. \"We don't offer,\nMorluc, we've _delivered_ one hundred electro-flash pistols, and\nit took genius to analyze and copy the design and manufacture them\nsecretly, not to speak of smuggling them here!\"\n\"Peace!\" Paulan thundered. \"Scientist Guerlan is unable to reply to my\nquestion!\"\nBoth the Martian and the Venusian members were silent, although they\nstill glared at each other across the table. The rivalry of Venus and\nMars was legendary and had endured for centuries. Little eddies of\nwhispers and conversation, came to a standstill, and once more their\neyes were turned expectantly toward Guerlan who stood up from his seat\ntoward the foot of the table.\n\"I have a plan,\" he stated quietly. His bandaged shoulder and chest\nwere living aches, and breathing was difficult, but a great enthusiasm\ntransfigured his features until with eyes alight with the fire of a\ngreat purpose, he seemed boyish for all his magnificent height and\nmusculature.\n\"Unless we divert the power of the Inner Circle.... I say _divert_, but\ndecisively, we're doomed. Any army we can muster would be met by the\nlegions of fanatical Intermediates who from pre-birth are conditioned\nand scientifically bred for battle. An Intermediate's glandular\nstructure has been modified to heighten unbelievably the combative\ninstinct. If atomo-rifles and atomic fire don't crush us, they'll start\nusing electro-flash. Their fleet is legion, and they have at their\ncommand the Scientists of the First Order, as deluded as I was, not to\nspeak of the Neophytes of the Inner Circle. Don't forget that the City\nof the Sphere has two million scientists, not counting the women.\n\"But, if we divert their Intermediates, cut off their sources of\nsupply, and breed revolt _on every tier, in every city_, their forces\nwill be divided, and we will have a chance to win. When I was a child,\nI had access to the ancient records which were translated by my father\nfor the Inner Circle. Among them I came upon a parchment so ancient\nthat it was ready to crumble into dust. After it had been treated for\npreservation, I read the translation made from that forgotten language\nby my father; it was about a great city that once ruled most of Terra,\nand their motto was--Divide and Rule. And that,\" Guerlan paused, \"is my\nplan.\"\nHe sat down a little abashed when he realized the vehemence with which\nhe had been talking. His eyes sought Perlac's, and a wave of color\nsuffused his face as he saw the open admiration in the girl's eyes.\n\"Magnificent, if it works,\" Carladin said with a satirical smile in\nthat husky voice of his that seemed too big for so small a body. \"But,\nmy friend, who is going to 'Muzzle the Calamar'? In other words, who is\ngoing to breed revolt in every city and tier ... and, above all, just\nhow?\"\n\"My son, you can't rouse emotions in amnesiacs--they haven't any, even\nin the higher levels where the treatment is mild. As for the scientists\nof the Second Order--they'd consider revolt blasphemy, not to speak\nof the First Order. Unless you have a complete, thought-out plan, I'm\nafraid you've been carried away by your own enthusiasm,\" Paulan said\nvery gently.\n\"My plan _is_ complete, Paulan. And I have work for both Venus and\nMars. I'm sure they would like to share in our victory. Listen!\"\nIt was not only a garden of vast dimensions, it was an Eden riotous\nwith the most exquisite blooms of Venus, and myriad bright-plumaged\nbirds that sang with a complete abandon that bespoke no instinct of\nfear, for they were sacred. In the near distance, the rose and white\ncrysto-plast temple of the Virgins of the Sacred Flame was a triumph in\narchitecture, for here within the inviolate garden of His Benevolence\nwas the sacred shrine.\nA muted orchestra was playing, hidden in the foliage, and the\nincredible re-creation of sunlight drew an iridescent aureole from the\nalabaster fountain that constantly renewed a miniature lake in the\ncenter of the garden.\nRose-colored _Garzas_ and sparkling, blue azurines searched for\ntid-bits in the shallows, while a flight of _Albas_, the snowy-white\nnightingales of the Volcanic Valley, swept overhead in an ecstasy of\nsong. It was idyllic, a spot instinct with peace under the soft hand of\nbeauty.\nBut near the shore of the small lake, idly moving his hand in the cool\nwaters, while with the other he stuffed roasted doves into the red,\ncruel mouth, His Benevolence listened in ominous silence as the Chief\nof the Intermediates made his report. Standing behind the gargantuan\ncorpulence of the 'Protector in Chief,' Bejamel listened, too, and his\ngargoyle's features slowly registered a rising fear that whitened his\nrepulsive face. It was incredible! Had anyone else dared to make such\na report, he would have instantly banished him or her to the 'Blessed\nSleep.' But the Intermediates, be they either of the warrior class,\nand trained to fight to the death, or of the scientist category, were\ncold, unemotional beings whose precision could not be questioned. As\nfor their loyalty--that was under control, for their only _imperative_\nwas Vanadol, reacting on them curiously instead of drugging them to\nsleep--compensating them for their sexlessness with an unearthly\necstasy. And Vanadol was under absolute Inner Circle control ... under\nBejamel!\n\"Only three Intermediates escaped alive from the caverns under the\nfifth level?\" Bejamel inquired incredulously in that magnificent voice\nthat was a melody in itself.\n\"Silence!\" There was nothing lovely in the harsh command of His\nBenevolence. \"Bunglers! Should condemn you and your strategists to\nthe Blessed Sleep, but the quota of jewels is filled.... What do you\nplan doing now? Or are you going to let those Irreconcilables become a\ncancer on the side of the empire?\" His voice became indistinct as he\nstuffed golden nectarines into his mouth.\n\"Magnificence! If your Benevolence permits....\" Bejamel's attempt at a\nsmile was a ludicrous failure. But the sulphuric stare he received for\nhis pains, left him wordless and pale.\n\"Proceed!\" His Benevolence nodded at the Intermediate. The pale yellow\neyes were blazing.\n\"Our plans are to destroy the cavern immediately, and utilize our\nIntermediate Scientists to ferret out the dissenters for disposal\nat your Effulgence's orders.\" The Chief of the Intermediates replied\ncalmly, evenly, as if his life were not hanging by the thinnest thread.\nHe bowed profoundly, and then stood erect, in all the glory of his\ngolden tunic and platino-plastic helmet.\n\"Also, a flight of pursuit atomo-planes awaits disorders in every tier\nof every city, Your Benevolence!\"\n\"Like over-fed blackbirds,\" His Benevolence observed scornfully. \"They\ndidn't prevent Guerlan and that unidentified companion of his from\nescaping! And that reminds me, Bejamel,\" his voice changed to a silken\npurr. \"I thought you had checked the safety coordination of the plastic\ncenters. Surely, with all the safeguards you reported installed, the\nmachines supplied you by scientists, and the robot-proctor guard, not\nto speak of the selector-controlled tests of the workmen, I still fail\nto understand how Guerlan escaped retribution.\" His lips parted in a\nsmile of sadistic pleasure, as Bejamel went green.\n\"And,\" His Benevolence held up a hand that flashed with a vortex of\nprismatic fire from the many jewels, \"what has become of your daughter,\nPerlac? I seldom see her any more.\"\n\"Since Your Benevolence said that her hips were too narrow and her face\ntoo sharp, I banished her from your presence, Effulgence!\"\n\"Well, bring her back!\" He snapped in fury. \"Sometimes I think you\nusurp my authority, Bejamel.\" His eyes narrowed speculatively, and the\nenmity he felt for the Minister of Justice because of the latter's\nsilent opposition to allowing his daughter to become a Virgin of the\nSacred Flame, smouldered within him.\nBejamel bowed profoundly, but a glint of savage rage shone in his eyes.\n\"Send the Virgins ... let them sing!\" His Benevolence commanded, \"and\nconvey my forgiveness to Estrella; she may enter the presence!\"\n\"Your Benevolence's favorite will rejoice at the magnanimous decision!\"\nBejamel replied in a soft murmur that was sheer music. But the\nexpression on his averted face belied his words.\nHe hurried away through the foliage of the Venusian Jasmine trees and\nthe tangles of fragrant Maravillas, until he came to the pavillion of\nwhite _Jadite_, so exquisitely planned that in its white simplicity it\nmight have been an idealized Greek temple.\n\"Estrella,\" he called the moment that he entered. \"Hurry, child!\" And\nseeing her curled on a couch worth a respectable fortune, \"_He_ will\nsee you ... mind you, he's in a vile temper--as capricious as I've ever\nseen him. But evidently he has need of you. Soothe him from this evil\nmood, or we'll all suffer!\" He paused out of breath.\nEstrella uncoiled languorously from the Sapphirine couch and stood\nlightly swathed in filmiest draperies of spider silk, that revealed\nthe distracting beauty of her limbs and full, firm breast. The large,\nbrilliant dark eyes, shadowed by curling lashes were rebellious\nand scornful, and the flower-like red mouth mutinous. A cascade of\npale gold hair tumbled curling about the marble shoulders, and sent\ngleaming tendrils to the satiny throat, encircled by a necklace\nof star-sapphires, rarest of all jewels because of the tremendous\ndifficulties in creating the star in the depths of the jewel.\n\"Let _him_ wait ... I have had to wait too long!\" she blazed.\n\"Sheesh! ... even the walls have ears, Star of the Evening! And\nremember his saying: 'A favorite in disfavor is a jewel that has\ncrystallized'. He means that literally; I couldn't bear to see you as a\nruby in his finger ring.\"\nEstrella paled, shrugged her shoulders and dashed out of the pavillion.\nOut in the garden, she was like a butterfly in the sunlight, a gorgeous\ncreature that came to rest at His Benevolence's feet. A choir of\nVirgins sang softly and undulated with the rhythm of the music, while\nHis Benevolence fondled Estrella with one hand and with the other ate.\nMeanwhile, in the sumptuous Audience Chamber, a multitude of Protectors\nof the Inner Circle, Scientists of the First Order, the Directors of\nvarious cities, and even Intermediate Scientists moved restlessly,\npacing up and down the imposing length of the chamber. Their faces were\npale and anxious; some seemed distraught, rehearsing silently, over and\nover in their minds what they had to say.\nBut among themselves they barely spoke. A careless word, flung in a\nmoment of anxiety, might be the beginning of a fatal intrigue. They\nwere taking no chances.\nThe dour, ascetic visaged Marvalli, Scientist of the Inner Circle and\nChief of Columbia, seemed on the verge of nervous prostration. He\nwondered in anguish what would His Benevolence say when he learned\nthat the warehouses filled with exquisite tropical and semi-tropical\ndelicacies for his table and that of the Inner Circle, had been\ndestroyed by a raging holocaust that had left nothing but blackened\ncinders, and that the priceless machinery for the Vibroponic farms,\nwhich speeded up the growth and maturity of exotic plants and fruits,\nand a multitude of legumes and vegetables, was a twisted, molten\nmass--he quaked inwardly and a cold sweat oozed out of his pores.\nVidal, Chief of Plastica had a harrowing report too. Vat after vat of\nprocessing acid had split in halves and flooded moats and safety levels\nuntil the acrid fumes made the Plastic Centers of his city untenable.\nConveyors had been disrupted and even robot-proctors dissolved as if\nthey'd been made of _papier-mache_. All his efforts at locating the\nsource of these depredations were in vain. Meanwhile, the plastic\nindustry in Plastica was paralyzed. That as bad as it was, however,\ncould be remedied temporarily by the installation of more vats, but an\namazing thing was that even the replacement vats had been found damaged\nbeyond repair.\nBut of them all, Weiman, \"The Butcher\", as he was called, was the most\ndistraught of all. Never in all the history of Perdura, his beloved\nPerdura, where the Neptunian _Bagazo_ plant was processed into the drug\nfor the amnesiac treatment, had such depredations been committed. A\nveritable nightmare of explosions had shattered the intricate machinery\nof the processors; the receiving vats of staunchest plastic had been\nfound in shards and slivers, while the stores of the sacred drug had\ndisappeared. An emergency order sent to the nurseries where the plants\nwere grown obtained no response and investigation disclosed that the\nnurseries had been destroyed.\nIt was then he had ordered a search party to go into the semi-tropical\nforests far up the valley in search of wild plants and they were met\nby a savage mob of Irreconcilables! But not the gravity-burdened,\nfrightened Irreconcilables he had been used to hunt with lances\nand swords, but a grim, determined company of fighters armed with\natomo-pistols and atomo-rifles who exterminated the searching party\nexcept one member, whom they sent back with the insolent warning: \"Stay\nout of our land!\"\nThe atmosphere of the Audience Chamber was electric. A wave of\nrebellion seemed to be sweeping the Empire.\nWhen Bejamel, Minister of Justice, entered the Chamber, there was a\nconcerted rush to meet him.\n\"Excellency, I request an audience!\" And from another Chief of a City.\n\"Nay, Excellency.... Mine cannot wait, it's a catastrophe!\" \"I crave\na hearing...! Your Excellency!\" Pandemonium had broken loose in the\nchaste precincts of the Audience Hall.\n\"Peace!\" Bejamel shouted above the tumult, and strove to present a\ncalm exterior. But an icy fear constricted his throat, and his usually\ncommanding tones of unearthly beauty failed him. Nevertheless he\nstemmed somewhat the rising confusion.\n\"You, Vidal!\" Bejamel singled out the Inner Circle Scientist in charge\nof Plastica. \"Your report.\"\n\"I demand Martial Rule, and sufficient troops to insure order,\" Vidal\ngasped. \"Plastica's paralyzed. Most of the plastic-acid vats have been\ndestroyed; conveyors in shambles and robot-proctors disintegrated.\nI know of only one weapon capable of shattering Columbium-Plastic\nand Bery-Plastic--and do it without a sound. These weapons are\nelectro-flash, and assigned to the Inner Circle. When an Inner Circle\nScientist loses the one assigned to him, he is under penalty to report\nit immediately. I can't conceive how these weapons could have fallen\ninto the hands of whoever these depredators are, and in sufficient\nnumbers to wreak such havoc in such a short time!\"\n\"I didn't ask for a diagnosis, and least of all for a cure!\" Bejamel\nsaid frigidly. \"I asked for symptoms. Your report, Vidal!\"\nAnd Vidal gave it, freed from the fear His Benevolence's presence\nalways inspired, he gave it bitterly, in complete detail.\n\"And you Marvalli?\" Bejamel's voice shook a little despite his efforts\nto control it. From Marvalli's expression he feared the worst.\n\"Columbia has been unable to provide its quota of special foods for\nforty-eight hours, and all its reserves have been destroyed.\" In a\nvoice filled with foreboding, he told his story, wringing his hands\nfrom time to time, unconscious of doing it.\nWeiman was next. He gave a minute account of depredations in Perdura.\n\"And so,\" he finished in an anguished voice, \"we not only have no\nBagazo for the amnesiac treatment ... we are unable to procure any, and\neven if we had it, the machinery is a shambles, Excellency!\" His voice\nended in a wail.\nOn and on the audience continued, each account adding to the\nseriousness of the situation. At last Bejamel rose. His face was\ninscrutable. \"What a gargantuan indigestion His Benevolence is going to\nhave today,\" he thought grimly.\n\"Remain!\" He exclaimed peremptorily, and strode in the direction of the\nenchanted garden.\nHe didn't even pause to watch the gyrations and posturings of Virgins\nof the Sacred Flame. Brushing aside the tall Intermediates that stood\nguard over the recumbent form of His Benevolence, he bowed slightly,\nand in a cold, tight voice explained his mission.\n\"Your Benevolence,\" his voice never had been lovelier, \"the empire is\nin open revolt. We are not facing isolated cases of vandalism. Nor the\nunderground opposition of the Irreconcilables. This is a fiendishly\nplanned and perfectly executed strategy of destruction. Unless we meet\nit with overwhelming force, we lose control of the empire!\"\n\"Don't exaggerate, Bejamel!\" His Benevolence snorted disdainfully.\n\"A few vats have been shattered--others can be made. Bagazo has been\ndestroyed ... we'll get all we need from the forests, and later have\nour chemists synthesize the drug. Just issue the necessary orders, I\ncan't be bothered now.\"\nBejamel's smile was feline, and feral lights gleamed in the eyes that\ngave him such a gargoylish expression amidst his twisted features.\n\"No, Effulgence. This calls for a meeting of the Inner Circle. You may\nnot know it, but hundreds of thousands of amnesiacs, now deprived of\nthe drug, _remember_! Death to them is a boon, and before they die they\nwill be sure to take as many of us as possible. And _they are being\narmed_!\"\n\"Let a few thousand die!\" He exclaimed heartlessly. \"They'll pave my\nnew Hall of Rubies!\" But he knew now that Bejamel was not exaggerating.\nThe great intellect of the evil ruler, had grasped the disastrous\nconsequences of such a revolt, and instantly he acted.\n\"Very well, Bejamel. Call the Council. Hold all witnesses for the\nsession. Meanwhile, mobilize all the Intermediates of the warrior\norder, and the Scientists of the first and second orders. Every Inner\nCircle Scientist who is still worthy of his rank, and all Inner Circle\nNeophytes to be in readiness. Make a survey of robot-proctors, and\ncoordinate all available defenses. We can at least be ready at a\nmoment's notice. And, find out how long our present stores of food will\nlast ... we should have enough for months! Think you can remember all\nthis?\" He purred mockingly.\n\"To hear your Benevolence is to obey!\" Bejamel replied imperturbably.\nAnd left to carry out the orders. A little smile was at the corners of\nhis mouth, and the feral light was still lambent in his strange green\neyes.\nHe could hear His Benevolence's harsh tones as the latter told His\nVirgins: \"Get out!\" Only Estrella remained by the side of the obscene\nbulk. Bejamel pitied her.\nOnce back in the Audience Chamber, pandemonium broke loose, but with\na peremptory wave of his hand and the words: \"You will remain as\nwitnesses for a full meeting of the Council tonight,\" Bejamel quelled\nthem. He watched them file out with a speculative gaze. \"When the sea's\ndisturbed,\" he murmured softly, \"creatures from the bottom rise to the\ntop.\" Then he walked slowly to his own chambers, singing softly to\nhimself, and it was as if the voice of an angel were issuing from the\nthroat of a Gargoyle.\nOnly one thought worried him, and that was the protracted absence of\nPerlac. She had been gone for days. Perhaps he had missed her in\nhis preoccupation with duties of State, he thought. Bejamel shrugged\nhis thin shoulders and sat down at a jewel-encrusted desk worthy of\nan Inner Circle Scientist ransom. Silently he began to write with an\nelectro-stylus on a sheet of transparent plastic. Nothing showed.\nIt was to Gualdamar, whom to give the full plenitude of his titles was\nChief Guardian of the City of the Flaming Sphere, The Leader of the\nIntermediate Warriors, Chief Strategist, and Scientist of the Inner\nCircle.\nAs Bejamel wrote, he thought with part of his mind of the many minor\nrevolts that had occurred when the amnesiac treatment failed because of\nthe defense against the drug that human metabolism built periodically,\nbut nothing like this had ever happened in the annals of the Empire.\nPlastic Inc., as the Inner Circle taught the people to believe, was\npart of them, and they rose and fell together. It occurred to Bejamel\nthat he was very old, it was indecent to thrust such a crisis on his\nfading intellect. The thought made his smile acidly. There was nothing\ndecadent about that Machiavellian mind that enabled him to remain in\npower through decades of intrigues, pitfalls and traps, and lately, the\ngrowing enmity of his Benevolence because he would not allow Perlac to\nbecome a chattel of his Obese Effulgence in the Temple of the Sacred\nFlame.\nHe wondered if he would be able to weather this crisis. Still he wrote\nswiftly, invisibly on the transparent plastic, and as he did so, the\nthought of Venus, great in its first bloom of advanced civilization, of\nEuropa, transmuted into an Eden by the courage of its Terrans and the\nstrange unearthly science of the Panadurs. If all else failed, he could\nseek sanctuary on either one of these two planets. Mars repelled him,\nnone of that grim land for his weary bones. But if he had to flee, he\nmeant to flee along with Perlac, and he had a score to settle before he\nwent.\nWhen he had finished, he pressed a button, and a robot-proctor entered\nnoiselessly, received instruction and as quietly disappeared. Bejamel\nknew that his robot would deliver the message in person, nothing could\ntake that plastic message from him short of destruction.\n\"Tonight we attack!\" Guerlan persisted uncompromisingly, but his eyes\nsought Perlac's and found confirmation in her swift smile. \"I offer\nthe counsel of daring--all or nothing!\" A roar of approval greeted his\nwords, the echoes dwindling down the series of subterranean caverns\nthat formed a continental link in the bowels of Neptune and was used to\nshelter the army of scientists, technicians, analysts, coordinators,\nmechanics and workmen. They were now under Columbia's Fifth Level, and\nrising to the crysto-plast dome, each tier was now under the domination\nof the Irreconcilables.\nBut Paulan, the Commander in Chief, arose in all the dignity of his\ngreat age. He frowned in disapproval, sighing before he spoke.\n\"I fear too great an army has been assembled against us, Plastica,\nTelluria, Perdura, the eleven remaining cities will have to be\nconquered, and remember, since we captured Columbia with comparative\nease while the Inner Circle's Army was engaged in destroying the\ncaverns beneath Plastica, all the other cities swarm with Intermediates\nand the Scientists of the First and Second Circle, not to speak of\nthose fiends of the Inner Circle themselves. We have converted millions\nthrough the use of the Ethero-Magnum, thanks to our loyal Perlac,\nwho taught us to use it as the Inner Circle used it to condition the\namnesiacs; we have paralyzed the Plastic Industry; destroyed the\nmachinery for processing _Bagazo_ into the amnesiac drug, and we\ncontrol all the stores of _Bagazo_. We have achieved the arming of\nthousands of our followers. Surely, that is a great victory. I feel\nthat should be enough for the present; besides, the Inner Circle will\nwant to come to terms with us.\"\nAnd it was true. Hunger and privation stalked the tiers of the\ngreat cities; chaos reigned. Even the great Plastic centers now had\nbecome a shambles of exploding acid vats; conveyors bore a welter of\nhalf-asphyxiated humanity, gaunt with hunger and the spasms lack of the\namnesiac brought on; transportation was paralyzed, and everywhere the\namnesiacs flared into madness as the effects of the drug wore off; and\nin a frenzy of remembrance and need of the drug, they attacked all in\nthe ranks of scientists, destroying everything they could lay hands on.\nThousands died under the trained precision of the Intermediates, and\nScientists of the First Order, but the casualties they inflicted in the\nserried ranks of the Chief Protector were appalling.\n\"A compromise is not enough!\" Guerlan was pitiless. \"We have but one\nEther Magnum here in Columbia with which to carry our message to the\nSecond Level of each city and the workmen of the Third Level. True\nwe have close to a quarter of a million warriors, but in a war of\nattrition, they have the greater resources. Besides,\" his voice was\nacid with scorn, \"who wants a compromise? Not I!\" His great green eyes\nunder the long dark lashes flashed fire and the generous, square-cut\nmouth was bitter. He pointed an accusing finger at the legion of men\nand women that filled to overflowing the immense central cavern.\n\"You have asked for enough food to insure health in your children\nand have been told that synthetic-parturition will take care of your\noffspring, as indeed it does, and you never see them again! You who\nhave asked but a measure of happiness and have been giving all you\npossess in energy, loyalty and obedience, and are given in return a\nbrutalizing drug that robs you of the will to live! You who through\nthe intrigues and machinations of the Inner Circle have been brutally\nthrust into the Second, the Third and even the Fourth Levels without a\ntrial, without a hearing merely to satisfy the sadistic minds that rule\nus from the City of the Sphere.... YOU, would you want a compromise?\"\nThe negative roar that rose in response, shook the lofty ceiling of the\ncavern and was like a whirlwind. When it had died down, Paulan stood up\nagain.\n\"I resign,\" he said simply. \"Younger hands than mine will have to lead\nyou. Perhaps you're right, Guerlan, if so, take my place as Commander\nin Chief, my son.\"\nFor a moment there was silence, and then another multi-throated roar of\napproval.\nGuerlan was silent before the majestic dignity of the old man, and\nsomething akin to pity welled out of his heart for the great patriarch;\nbut Perlac was on her feet, her sculptured arms flung above her head\ndemanding attention from the great multitude.\n\"I second the nomination!\" Her limpid tones carried far.\n\"And I ... and I ... and I!\" Thousands of voices strove to be heard,\ndown into the farthest reaches of the linked caverns, as those who\ncould not see, heard through the inter-connecting teleradio.\n\"Then,\" Guerlan spoke firmly, almost coldly, \"the Council of War is\ncalled to session, we will meet in the Venusian spacer. All troops\nstand by for orders.\"\n\"Lead, Commander!\" exclaimed a rich baritone voice.\nIt was Carladin, winged, diminutive, proud that the first session of\nthe Council of War should be held in his magnificent atomo-plane,\nthe one that had been repaired in the cavern beneath Plastica. He\nwas proud, too, of Venus' inventive genius in converting the secret\nelectronic formula of the electro-flash into a magnification of that\nweapon, to the size of a cannon, and raised to the sixth power, enough\nto practically blast an atomo-plane out of space. As for his special\ngift to the cause, that was an ironic touch that only a Venusian mind\nwas capable of conceiving, for although unbelievably kind, they never\nforgave. \"Poetic Justice,\" Carladin had called it, and insisted on the\nuse of his special gift, even bringing a battalion of Venusians to\nhandle it.\n\"Telluria reporting ... Telluria ... Fourth Level cleared. Entrance to\nThird Level forced.... Fighting intense ... Telluria....\" The voice of\nthe announcer faded and the magnified face in the telecast dissolved\nbefore their gaze.\nGuerlan, Perlac and Carladin listened intently in the control cabin of\nthe Venusian spacer which hovered like a great bird in the darkness\nabove Columbia.\nThe enormous ethero-magnum that occupied a large section of the control\nroom, came to life again as an ascending whine warned them, it was\nPerdura calling:\n\"Perdura calling ... Perdura ... Commander Guerlan!\"\n\"Come in, Perdura!\" Guerlan exclaimed impatiently, his nerves taut from\ninaction, but plans had to be observed. \"Come in!\"\nThe shifting swirls of light on the telecast became steady and a young,\npale-featured youth could be seen speaking with great intensity.\n\"We're on the second level, Commander. The defense has been terrific,\nthey're bringing robots into the battle. One electro-flash cannon\ndestroyed thus far, but we're pushing forward. No further news.\"\nIt was disappointing. In a concerted attack in eleven cities, thousands\nof Irreconcilables had emerged from the bowels of Neptune, striking\nupwards from the fifth levels of the cities, aided by crazed amnesiacs\nwho fought with tooth and nail when no weapons were available. But it\nwas Plastica that worried him most, for here was the strategic city\nthey must capture at all costs. Unable to control his impatience any\nlonger, he asked Perlac to contact Plastica. The girl's slender fingers\nplayed over the banked keys, adjusting tiny levers and driving home the\nactivating selectors. Swirls of magnificent colors flooded the Telecast\nscreen, while the ascending whine of the complex instrument went beyond\nthe auditory limits of the human ear; and presently scene after scene\nof ghastly destruction showed on the telecast, the fifth level came and\nwent a shattered welter; the fourth where destruction was appalling\nshowed great rents in the crysto-plast dome that separated it from\nthe third. There was fighting still in the second level, as isolated\nparties strove to decimate the remaining, fleeing Intermediates;\nthe fallen forms of robot-proctors littered the conveyors and\ninter-connecting avenues, the carnage was incredible.\nBut it was in the first level itself where the battle without quarter\nwas now taking place. Divisions of ordine-plastic robots charged\ngreat masses of Irreconcilables, only to be shattered in great waves\nas the electro-flash cannon, gift of Venus, disintegrated their\nelectronic balance. Thousands of lurid flashes from atomo-rifles and\natomo-cannons, laboriously hauled to the first level by the attackers,\nbelched destruction at buildings laden with Intermediates and Second\nLevel Scientists; aero-tanks with treads instead of landing gear,\nwere attempting to settle on the vast first level, their atomo-cannon\nslashing at the attackers with great scimitars of lurid blue light.\nIt was a titanic holocaust that would long live in the annals of the\nUniverse, for Venus, Mars, Mercury and Europa had their Tele-Magnums\ntrained on the fantastic struggle.\nAnd then the face of the Commander of the Irreconcilables attacking\nPlastica, showed on the Telecast, a great gash over an eye still\noozing a gout of blood that trickled down the left side of his face.\nGrim, with an awful determination in his young eyes, the Commander\nspoke hoarsely. \"Commander Guerlan, we need aircraft to engage the\naero-tanks. Plastica is surrounded without the crysto-plast dome, and\nthousands of Inner Circle Scientists await the precise moment to enter\nin their Treaders and annihilate us. In reaching the first level,\nour losses have been too great, Commander!\" He saluted and the face\nwithdrew, as if having delivered his message there were nothing more to\nbe said.\n\"Carladin,\" Guerlan's voice was vibrant with pent-up emotion, \"you've\nbrought with you eight-hundred atomo-spacers better than anything the\nInner Circle has, if the speed and strength of Perlac's atomo-spacer is\na sample. There is _your_ task!\"\n\"Not mine, Commander!\" There was an edge of keen delight in the superb\nbaritone voice of the tiny, winged figure. \"I also brought with me a\ngreat warrior of space to lead my fleet. I have another task I shall\nrelish even more! In one of my spacers, the flag-ship, are the hounds\nof Mother Venus, with which we hunt in the great virgin forests. One to\neach member of a battalion of my people ... on a fragile leash! I shall\ncommunicate with my fleet immediately, may I take one of the emergency\nplanes?\" And as Guerlan nodded assent, Carladin was gone.\nGuerlan wondered what the Venusian had meant by the hounds of Venus,\nbut he was too preoccupied with the battle to care, all that mattered\nwas that he was willing to use his fleet in accordance with the plan.\n\"Gloriana calling.... Gloriana calling Commander Guerlan....\" The\nmonotonous iteration and reiteration of the announcer demanded\nattention. Perlac touched a bank of jet black keys as Guerlan said:\n\"Come in Gloriana, report, we're listening!\"\n\"Gloriana reports a stalemate. We have gained second level, almost\ntook the first, but the fleet is above the first level, we can't combat\nit. All levels cleared but the first. Gloriana sounding off.\"\nOther reports came in, but still Guerlan waited for the one thing\nthat was imperative. And at last, through an eternity of waiting,\nColumbia came on the Ethero-Magnum, then like bursting flowers of fire,\nthe atomic flashes from the emerging atomo-spacers of Venus as they\nlaunched themselves straight up into the heavens through the vertical\nfunnel-like channel that rose from the caverns, straight up into the\nupper reaches of the first level. Spacer after spacer soared aloft and\ndisappeared in the direction of Plastica. All but the last. It rose\nmajestically upward and then, describing a parabola in midair, began to\nlose altitude, its atomic flashes like falling stars.\nAnd then began the most bizarre attack in the history of six planets,\nfor as the fleet attacked the swarm of atomo-fighters and aero-tanks of\nthe Inner Circle, the last Venusian spacer had landed outside Plastica,\nand a multitude of Venusians each one leading a gigantic _Calamar_, the\ndreaded, armored tiger of Venus, launched themselves upon the besieging\nScientists of the Inner Circle that awaited the propitious moment to\nenter Plastica during the battle and destroy the Irreconcilables by an\nattack from their rear.\nThe roar of the ravenous beasts was a crescendo that drowned the wild,\nagonized screams of the scientists as mammoth claws ripped through\nplastic-breast plates and Venusian silks, and fangs found fat throats\nand steaming blood. Overhead the clash of the two air armadas was a\nholocaust of fire, as the two armies beneath fought also for supremacy\non the first level.\nWhat the outcome would be, was beyond prediction, for neither\nside entertained any doubt now but that it was a struggle to the\ndeath--there could be no quarter. If Plastica fell, most of the\nEmpire went with it, for within it was the very life-blood of the\nnation--Plastics, the beginning, the reason and the end of their\nexistence. For plastics were clothing and shelter, and weapons\nand furniture, and even medicines and synthetic concentrates that\nwent under the name of food. Besides, they had Columbia, where the\nsustenance of the City of the Sphere and the first levels was grown\nand manufactured.\nSlowly at first, imperceptibly, the battle turned in their\nfavor, objectives that seemed unattainable were reached by the\nIrreconcilables, and the defenders fell back. The invulnerable fleet,\nthe much touted and dreaded air armada, as being decimated by the\nunearthly speed of the Venusian spacers; and Intermediates and robots\nalike fell before the supernal fire of the electro-flash cannon\nand electro-rifles. Still, the battle wore on and on, with such an\nintensity that it was incredible that anything that lived could endure\nit. Without Plastica itself, a horror of carnage, blasted Calamars\nand torn bodies, marked where the Inner Circle Reserves had been, but\nCaladin's spacer was nowhere in view.\n\"The time,\" Perlac said softly, \"has come, my dear.\"\nGuerlan gazed at the exquisite features of Perlac in misery. He was\nsilent. But the girl laid a hand on his shoulder caressingly, and\nforced him to look into her eyes. \"We must face it, Guerlan, unless we\ndo, this war may last for years, and oceans of blood will flow. It is\nthe better way.\"\n\"I know, I know Perlac. But let me do it alone. I can't ... I just\ncan't bear to have you risk your life, my dear.\" Impulsively he crushed\nher to him in a fierce embrace and kissed the flower-like mouth. Then\nhe released her.\n\"I will be in less danger than you; after all I am Bejamel's daughter.\nAnd don't you think that I, too, could not bear to have you go alone?\nNo, dear, we are in this together, for life or for death.\"\nAs if the gods of war relished the appalling daring of their plan,\nsuddenly the way was opened to them, for on the immense Tele-Magnum,\nthe heavenly tones of Bejamel's voice could be heard, as slowly, his\ngargoyle face came into view. Hurriedly Perlac threw the switch which\nprevented him at the Palace on the Sphere from seeing them.\n\"Commander Guerlan! Bejamel, Minister of Justice, speaks.\" There were\nrich undertones of irony, and bitterness, too, in the superlative voice\nof the speaker.\n\"I have learned that my daughter is your prisoner. We have captured\nimportant prisoners, too. Paulan, your ex-leader, and that misguided\nMartian who has chosen to espouse your cause. But all this is of\nno moment, I am willing to ransom my daughter on your own terms,\nbarbarian!\" Even in his grief, Bejamel was unable to suppress the\ninsulting epithet.\n\"What do you offer, Bejamel?\" Guerlan spoke calmly, although a seething\nmaelstrom swirled within him. \"But make your offer worth listening to,\nI have no time for barter.\"\n\"A thousand prisoners of war, and a coffer of jewels, Guerlan!\"\nGuerlan laughed shortly. \"Your fame for sagacity has been overrated,\nBejamel, the jewels ... we shall shortly make our own--The Ultimate\nPresence knows there will be enough dead when this is over. As for the\nprisoners,\" his voice became indifferent, \"we'll take them, of course,\nbut we have more men than we need, Scientist. Offer me something beyond\nmy means and I'll send your daughter to you, unharmed!\"\n\"Speak, Dissenter, I am a man of reason!\" Bejamel's voice was filled\nwith cunning. \"Speak!\"\n\"Since you are the only one who can open His Benevolence's doors,\noutside of the mechanism he can activate from within, destroy the\nmechanism. Take away his invulnerable robe of force, and then ... then\nforget to sing! Let him starve slowly in his enchanted garden, after he\nhas devoured all his birds and pets.\" Guerlan's laughter was mocking.\nBut within he was tense with anxiety. Would his strategy win, he\nwondered? One could not deal in a normal manner with Bejamel.\n\"Agreed!\" The celestial voice had risen to limpid heights.\nThe fleets of atomo-spacers and aero-tanks stood poised, withdrawn,\nmarking an invisible, aerial lane through which hurtled the slim,\nsilver flash of an atomo-plane. The most powerful Tele-Magnum in the\npalace of His Benevolence was focused on that ship, without pause,\nuntil every detail of its interior was exposed on the great tele-screen\nat the palace. But its interior revealed only the pale, haggard face of\nPerlac, inexpressibly lovely in its sadness, and motionless beside her,\nthe gigantic robot-proctor of bery-plastic, embossed with the insignia\nof the House of Justice and Bejamel's own intricate emblem. It had\nbeen sent to act as a guard and bring her unharmed to the palace.\nForming a perfect target, a trio of transports carrying a thousand\nIrreconcilables, prisoners of war, came from the opposite direction,\nreleased from the City of the Sphere, as per agreement. The vessels\nneared each other, crossed and passed en-route to their opposite\ndestinations. At last, Perlac's plane reached the outer air-locks of\nthe Sphere, where pressure was adjusted, and entering ships were guided\nto their berths at the base of the immense globe, where the machinery\nof the anti-gravity repulsor beams was housed also, and where the\nglittering tiers rose upward to end at the great Hanging Gardens of His\nBenevolence, where the palace stood.\nAnd then the armistice was broken. Hundreds of swift, deadly\ninterceptor planes, atomo-powered, dived after the retreating\ntransport; tremendous aero-tanks rushed in for the kill spewing a blaze\nof livid radiations. One of the transports managed to dive into the\ninter-connecting, ascending and descending chamber of the city, but the\nothers, trapped, rather than be rayed like sheep, courageously turned\nand fought. But to no avail. Outside the tropical city of Columbia,\nthey crashed in great flaming gouts, like miniature volcanoes.\nAhead of Perlac and her robot-proctor was the City of the\nSphere. Majestically it blazed like a cosmic jewel against the\nimpenetrably-black backdrop of space. It grew immense, fantastic, like\na minor planet glowing in space, but suddenly, their speed slackened\nas the robot-control began to decelerate; and presently they slid with\na vast hiss into the first airlock, where the synchronized magnetic\nfields instantly checked their speed. A terrific force jarred them\nuntil their bones seem to melt, then doors were opening, voices could\nbe heard shouting orders, and the official pilot entered the ship and\nwith an obsequious salute to the girl, he took seat at the controls and\nguided the ship into the second lock.\nThe entire length of both the first and second locks were lined\nwith the titanic coils of the synchronized, magnetic degravitation\nfields, which stopped the vessels in a graduating net of force. But\nthe transparent sides of the sphere gave a curious sensation of lack\nof solidity, of fragility even, as if they had entered a vast hall\nof glass. Only those who really knew the secret composition of the\nSphere, were aware of its near-invulnerability, even beyond that of the\nstrongest known metal-alloys.\nAt last the long, slim atomo-plane was berthed, and the tall,\ncadaverous figure of Bejamel hove into view. He waited for Perlac\nclosely followed by her robot guard to approach him, in accordance with\nthe etiquette of Plastica. Then, unable to suppress any longer the\nprofound emotions that stirred his complex being, he opened his arms\nwide and rushed forward to enfold the only being he had ever loved,\nin the fragile embrace of his skeletal arms. A suspicious brilliance\nswam in the long green eyes, and the ordinarily limpid voice was husky,\nuncertain, as he exclaimed: \"Perlac, O my dear!\" He could say no more.\nPerlac was touched. She brushed her lips against his cheek, then she\ngently pushed him back, to gaze into the inscrutable green eyes of the\nMinister of Justice, who was also her father.\nBehind her, looming unnoticed, as a piece of activated mechanism, was\nthe Robot-Proctor, both servant and guard.\n\"Father,\" she said impulsively, \"Don't take me to the Palace! I\ncouldn't bear to enter the temple as one of the Virgins ... rather\nwould I prefer to be a prisoner of the Irreconcilables.\"\nFather and daughter gazed at each other in silence, surrounded by the\ndeep, far-away hum of the throbbing generators as the incredible stream\nof atomic power fought the gravity of Neptune. Great opaque doors at\nthe far end of the second lock led into the inner chambers where the\nrobot-tended machinery never faltered for a second. Bejamel smiled\nslowly, ironically, and shook his head. \"We're not going there!\"\nHe waved an emaciated hand at the guard of honor that awaited his\npleasure at a respectful distance, and instantly the Intermediate\nOfficer in charge came forward. \"Command!\" he said laconically. It\nwas the same officer that had reported the defeat of the Intermediate\nbattalion in the caverns beneath Plastica. His superbly beautiful\nface was impassive, but the brilliant eyes were restless, as if the\ncreature's nerves were overwrought.\n\"My atomocopter!\" Bejamel said as laconically, and then passed a small\npackage to the Intermediate. \"For you and the entire Palace Guard,\" he\nsaid softly. \"There will be no need of you and your men tonight. We\nhave all but won ... celebrate.\"\nThe light of hunger, of delight, of the nearest feeling akin to\ngratitude he could possibly feel, flashed like a flame into the\nIntermediate's eyes. \"I bow in thanks, O Lord of Justice,\" he replied\nformally.\nWithin seconds, they were speeding upwards in Bejamel's private\natomocopter, past tier after tier of the fabulous City of the Sphere.\nEvery tier was a beehive of activity, as scientists of the Inner\nCircle, scurried in every direction engaged in a multitude of tasks.\nAtomo-planes flashed through the inter-connecting levels on their way\nto the titanic battle below. Thousands of the Neophytes, aided by\nrobots, supplied arms and concentrates to the departing vessels, while\nother thousands boarded them on their way to swell the ranks of the\ndefenders, and take the place of their countless dead.\nAt last they reached Bejamel's private dwelling. He never called it\na palace. In the tenebrous depths of his involved soul, there were\nflashes of genius, and one of them was to have and to rule without ever\nmentioning the fact. His dwelling was exquisite in proportions, the\nsimplicity of its white _Jadite_ facade, depending on the artistry of\nits composition and carved decors, not on opulence of mosaic-jewelling\nas was the case with the palace of His Benevolence. A repugnance of\nrococco display was enough to deter him from bad taste.\nThey went immediately into his private chambers, and here Perlac had a\ngreat surprise, for reclining on a dais covered with silvery Venusian\nfurs and the priceless plumage of the Martian Kra, was the one person\nshe would never have expected to see--Estrella, favorite of His\nBenevolence!\nOnce over her shock, Perlac turned and favored her ancient father with\na sly smile.\n\"Incredible!\" she murmured. \"Can it be possible?\" Bejamel bridled.\n\"Why not?\" He rose to his full, cadaverous height. \"Estrella and I\nare going to Venus, child, I have yet many more years of life, and\nloneliness is not good for an active mind like mine. That's why I\nransomed you from that barbarian Guerlan, so that you may go with us.\nI am going to the palace now, I have one final errand to accomplish\nwell, before we leave!\" He smiled slowly, satirically, as if the most\ndelicious thought in the universe had taken shape in his mind.\n\"Did you take care of His Exalted Benevolence's power-screen belt, my\ndear?\" he inquired of Estrella.\n\"Yes,\" the girl nodded, her eyes filling with hatred at the mention of\nthe dreaded name. \"It will never function again!\"\n\"Then,\" Bejamel said emphatically, in the tones he used when he had\ndelivered the final word, \"meet me at the emergency outer lock. My\nship is there waiting, robot-manned, provisioned, containing fortunes\nin jewels and priceless things. We will go to Venus, and to a new ...\na greater life!\" he exclaimed, his eyes shining on the reclining form\nof Estrella. \"I shall expect to see you, Perlac, with Estrella aboard\nmy ship within one hour!\" And to the silent robot-proctor. \"Guard the\nwomen,\" he said directing a tiny beam of force from the microscopic\nmechanism concealed in his ring of office at the forehead of the robot,\nwhich instantly sealed the order within the synthetic brain of the\nmetal-plastic man. \"Guard them and bring them to my ship within one\nhour.\"\nThe metalo-plastic robot seemed to stiffen, his great non-abradable\ncrystal eyes gleamed and a powerful arm went up in acknowledgment of\nthe peremptory order. Satisfied, Bejamel turned and left.\nIt was then that Perlac turned to the towering robot and said softly,\n\"Now!\" And to Estrella, who watched uncomprehendingly, \"Are you ready?\nThrow something about you, and veil your face, Estrella, we're going to\nthe space ship!\"\n\"But we've still got a lot of time!\" the favorite protested. \"It's true\nthat most of my things are on the spacer, but I want to arrange some\npersonal matters before we go; wait a while!\"\nA tremendous power was in Perlac's voice as she replied:\n\"We're leaving now!\" Yet she said it very softly. \"You're dripping with\njewels, are you taking those things with you?\"\n\"But of course! Such a question, have you gone mad?\"\n\"You know what they are? Each one represents a life ... they're made\nfrom organic-plastic, human beings executed by greed!\" Perlac reminded\nher.\nBut Estrella shrugged her divine shoulders as she arose. \"My not\nwearing them wouldn't help those slain ones now. Besides, they're\nnearer to me in death, than they could ever have been in life!\" She\nsmiled with incredible vanity. She threw a robe of Kra plumes about\nher, and allowed herself to be led to the atomocopter.\nWithin seconds they were speeding to the outer lock and Bejamel's ship.\nIt was there that the robot-proctor left them, and hurried to the\nlower chamber where the pulsing generators sang their eternal threnody\nof unlimited power. Unnoticed he gained the great metalo-plastic\ndoors that divided the vast chambers from the anti-gravity repulsor\nmachinery. Unhesitatingly, it directed a thin pencil of force at an\norifice slightly above the center of the great doors, just as Perlac\nhad explained over and over, and the massive portals parted slowly,\nremaining open.\nRobots of the lower grades worked among the maze of towering machinery,\noiling, testing, doing a multitude of tasks. But the robot-proctor,\nwithout paying them any attention, seemed to suddenly open at the side\nand an electro-flash gun, of large size, magnified by the Venusian\nscientists and raised to many times its normal power, came into view\nfrom the aperture. Without making a sound, without even a beam of\nlight, the fatal weapon was aimed at the very heart of the colossal\nmotors and generators, wheel and pistons seemed to warp, shrink and\ndisappear uncannily; the steady throbbing hum of the degravitator,\nlost its smooth rhythm and thereafter large sections of machinery\ndisappeared under the relentless action of the supernal fire being\ndirected at them.\nInstantly the robots came to life, for a moment they milled wildly,\nas if this supreme emergency were something they were not able to\ncope with, and then they saw the new robot in their midst. Their\nsynthetic brains activated only to the repair and maintenance of the\nmachines, and to their safeguard, focused on the attacker, and its\nremoval was instantly their immediate task. They attacked _en masse_,\nbut the robot-proctor eluded them among the mazes of metalo-plastic,\nof bery-plastic rods and generators, and the tremendous motors which\nwere being eaten by an invisible leprosy. With a swift slash of the\nelectro-flash gun, the robot-proctor caused havoc among the robots that\npursued him, legs, arms, even heads wavered and disappeared as the\nelectronic balance was completely disrupted by the flash.\nA tremor seemed to shake the gigantic Sphere. By now, the great\ndegravitator chamber was in shambles, and the remaining motors were\nunable to cope with the awful pressure of the gravity of the giant\nplanet.\nWith one final murderous sweep of the electro-flash, that seemed\nto shear like an invisible scimitar through machinery, robots and\neverything in its path, retreated as it had come, racing upwards\ntowards the Sphere's emergency locks. There was no apparent pursuit.\nOnly the vivid scarlet lights of imperative emergency, flooding what\nhad been the degravitator chamber were witnesses to the destruction.\nIn the coordinating offices of the Maintenance Scientists, the\ntelesolidographs gave three-dimensional accounts of the wreckage.\nBut even there, confusion, bred by a growing panic, caused a delay,\nlosing them their chance of effecting repairs. Suddenly, panic brooked\nno obstacles. The light of intelligence and logic was flung aside as\nmen and women becoming aware of the ghastly fate that awaited them,\npoured out on the various levels in a frenzy to escape. The news of\nthe destruction of vital machinery in the anti-gravity repulsor beam\nchamber was being relayed everywhere.\nAlready the colossal Sphere was swaying gently and settling lower,\ndislocating the delicate balances that held it poised in space. The\nstresses on the plastic structures and pylons was tremendous.\nAs the robot arrived at Bejamel's spacer, a dramatic scene unfolded\nbefore his huge non-abradable eyes. Holding an electro-flash in her\nslender hand, her eyes brimming with tears, Perlac seemed to have for\nthe moment at least, control of the superb ship. She was saying:\n\"We don't leave here until Guerlan returns!\" Her lips were white, but\nthe sheer determination written in her lovely face, held even Bejamel\nwho was taken aback.\n\"Guerlan! Are you mad, Perlac? That barbarian's below on the planet's\nsurface!\"\n\"On the contrary,\" the robot-proctor spoke in a voice leaden with\nfatigue, \"I'm here, Bejamel.\" Slowly he emerged from the enclosing\nplastic shell of what had been a robot, then let the huge, hollow\nplastic man fall clattering to the spacer's floor. Silently he searched\nthe ex-Minister of Justice, who seemed transfixed by a vast surprise.\nFrom under Bejamel's arm-pit, Guerlan took a hidden electro-flash, and\na venom-tipped dagger concealed in a fold of his tunic. Having drawn\nhis fangs, he smiled. \"We can blast off now ... but not for Venus!\"\nMajestically, Bejamel turned to Perlac with an inscrutable smile. He\ngazed at the girl in a mixture of bitterness and admiration:\n\"You're indeed _my_ daughter!\" he said at last. Then to Guerlan: \"What\ndo you propose to do with me?\"\n\"Keep you on Neptune,\" Guerlan replied bluntly. \"Utilize your vast\nknowledge of jurisprudence, and your personal and intimate knowledge\nof the thousands of scientists who are certain to surrender sooner or\nlater. Human beings have inalienable rights, rights that we propose\nto return to them. But unfortunately, it will not be easy to give\nfreedom to those who have never known what freedom is. We will need\nall the science and power of mind available. So, Bejamel, we must use\nyou--under our supervision, of course. You see, even the venom of a\ncobra is eminently useful, if handled right!\"\nThey eyed each other, these two. Both powerful, dominating intellects,\nboth capable of profound emotions. It was the older man, who used to\nthe devious ways of the Sphere and His Benevolence's court, yielded\ngracefully. Bejamel glanced at Estrella, and it occurred to him that\nwhatever years of life remained to him would be sweet if she were at\nhis side. At that instant, a vast tremor shook the gigantic city of the\nSphere, and Bejamel's eyes went wide.\nSeated at the controls, Guerlan turned slightly to Bejamel. \"Give your\nIntermediates orders to open the lock and activate the catapult--we\nhave minutes, perhaps only seconds, before the Sphere gives under the\ngravity pull. Make your choice, or I give the ship full power and crash\nthrough the airlock, Bejamel!\" Guerlan's voice was cold, impassive.\n\"I shall give the order,\" Bejamel assented in a brittle voice.\nFrom a vantage point in space, the scene that met their eyes had the\nmemorable quality of those stupendous spectacles of nature that human\neyes rarely if ever are privileged to see.\nThe vast sphere was aflame with color, dazzling in the vivid\ncoruscations of blue and orange and mauve and yellow lights. Spinning\nslowly, it was a thing of unearthly beauty, a floating, starry globe\nthat might have been a toy of the gods. It was being deserted by every\ntype of craft imaginable; hundreds of planes, 'copters, electros ...\nevery available type of ship that could evacuate the jostling, crying,\nscreaming thousands who had jammed the outer air-locks and emergency\nexits.\nInexorably, the Sphere sank lower and lower, as the remaining\ngenerators fought the awful gravity of Neptune that held the doomed\nglobe in its gigantic grip. Enough power still remained to the\nincredible sphere to keep it from crashing headlong into the furious\nwaters of the vast ocean below. But at last, as if the ultimate ounce\nof power were gone, the Globe seemed to lurch in a glory of prismatic\nlights, then with terrific momentum it began the dizzy plunge through\nspace, whirling like a falling meteor.\nPerlac, Bejamel, Estrella--even Guerlan himself, could not take their\neyes from the tragic glory that was the sphere. Suddenly they saw it\nilluminate the ocean for miles as it neared the surface of the waters,\nthen with a vast splash that sent a tidal wave licking the shore's\nhills hungrily, it sank into the cold, green waters.\n\"And there it will remain for all eternity!\" Guerlan said\nthoughtfully. \"A tomb of evil, that men might live!\"\nBejamel was silent. The gargoyle's face was softened by a profound\nsadness. He sighed like a man who has lived too much, and at last seeks\nrest. He turned his back to the scene below as if unable to bear it any\nmore. \"An epoch has passed,\" he said softly in the magnificent voice.\nBut Guerlan was at the Tele-Magnum, broadcasting offer of an armistice\nto the warring armadas below.\n\"Scientists of the Inner Circle and the First Level,\" he said with\ninfinite assurance. \"Your City of the Sphere has plunged to its doom,\nand, with it went His Infamous Benevolence and hundreds of thousands of\nyour henchmen. You no longer have a haven of refuge, no base in which\nto refuel or obtain supplies. When your present ammunition is gone,\nwhen repairs and food are necessary, and when the men who die must be\nreplaced, there is no spot where you can return. Yours is a certain\ndoom--unless you unconditionally surrender. We offer a pardon to all\nwho are willing to join our cause; lay down your arms and aid in the\nreconstruction--a far more glorious future is before us!\"\nAn immense weariness had etched lines about his mouth and eyes, and\nhis shoulders slumped as if a great reaction had set in. But his eyes\ncould still flame with joy, as he saw the deadly fleet of the Inner\nCircle abandon the struggle, as he saw the embattled armies cease their\ncarnage. As he turned from the Tele-Magnum to go to the controls and\nguide the ship to their base in Columbia, he suddenly felt soft arms\nentwine around his neck and a soft face that pressed close to his. He\ndidn't even need to look, the fragrance of Venusian jasmines was in his\nnostrils and a warm, flower-like mouth pressed close to his.\nIt was then that Bejamel turned to Estrella and was eyeing him with\ncritical eyes and said sardonically:\n\"Shall we make it unanimous?\"\nEnd of Project Gutenberg's Minions of the Crystal Sphere, by Albert de Pina", "source_dataset": "gutenberg", "source_dataset_detailed": "gutenberg -  Minions of the Crystal Sphere\n"},
{"source_document": "", "creation_year": 1937, "culture": " English\n", "content": "Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online\n                 Like a tide, the horror of the silver\n                  death was sweeping to inundate the\n                 inhabited worlds--with only Varon to\n                  halt its flood--and he was already\n                    marked by the plague he fought.\n           [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n         Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n         the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nFermin, the _Arch-Mutant_, had risen before dawn and in the\ngarnet-colored light that passed for morning on Ganymede, repaired to\nthe magnificent austerity of his cloister where he received an endless\nseries of reports.\nHe had been reading _Seville-Lorca_ the previous evening, delighting\nin the incredible pages which had been the great historians' dying\ncontribution to their worlds, and to which he had every intention of\nadding an ironic anti-climax of his own. He sat in an austere Jadite\nchair basking in the archaic warmth of an open hearth, and watched\nwhimsically for a moment how the darting flames reflected a bright\npatina on the fur of the somnolent Felirene at his feet. There was\na chapter on the Jovian Societies he wanted to re-read. Not for\nthe brilliant, facile style in which _Seville-Lorca_ presented the\ndistilled chronicles of the Jovian Moons, but for that deeper purport\nwhich is the notation of the heart.\nSlowly, Fermin became absorbed in the photo-plastic record on the stand\nbefore him, unrolling in synchronized timing with his own reading speed.\n\"... It seems natural, I suppose, human nature being as it is--that the\nMother Planet should maintain an attitude of supercilious aloofness.\nBut then, it is axiomatic we can never quite love those we have\nwronged. And the history of the colonization of the major Jovian Moons\nis anything but exalting.\n\"When at the close of the 'Great Unrest,' as the twenty-third century\nis popularly known, it was definitely established that the ratio of\nMutants to the grand total of normal populations was becoming an\nincreasingly dangerous potential, they were given their choice of a\ncharter to the newly explored Jovian Moons--a magnanimous gesture\nwhich ignored with olympic indifference the fact that at least\none--Ganymede--had already a civilization of its own.\n\"The fact that 'Mutants' were the direct result of malignant rays and\nfiendish gases to which their ancestors had been exposed during the\nendless wars that ravaged Terra until the twenty-second century, thus\ndamaging and modifying their chromosomes until Mutants began to appear\nin increasing numbers, was beside the point.\n\"Terra was not interested in 'origins' it was only interested in\n'conclusions'--and that the sooner the better! For these silver-haired\nMutants the color of old ivory, with the piercing silver-grey eyes,\nwere a constant reminder of a recent barbarism, of fratricidal wars so\ndamning that the new apostles of the 'Great Peace' would rather avert\ntheir minds. Besides, and this was the deciding factor, the Mutants'\ninfinite capacity for intrigue bid fair to upset Terra's idyllic\napplecart!\n\"For in a world devoid of want, where strife had ceased under\nscientific control, where obedience was taken for granted, and\nrobot-labor performed an endless variety of tasks, the blessed Mutants\nfound ways and means of fomenting discontent with admirable logic. Had\nit been confined to their own ranks, it would have been no problem at\nall, for as yet their number were negligible--scarcely a million. But\nthe perversity of human nature is sometimes appalling to behold; thus,\nunder the persuasive eloquence of the Mutants, great numbers of the\npopulation of the World State began audibly to long for freedom!\n\"What manner of freedom they longed for, was a little difficult for\nthe World-Council to establish. For surely, in the face of universal\nplenty, freedom from want had been accomplished. Since the Government\nwas a benevolent bureaucracy staffed by scientists, oppression was\nunknown. And, in the absence of need for labor, thanks to robots,\nanyone could and did pursue such bents and careers as best suited them,\nwithin certain limits. Even pleasure palaces; rejuvenation centers--and\npleasures had been socialized. The Government furnished Cinemils, mild\nstimulants; even the more esoteric delights to all who performed a\nminimum of work per day.\n\"Of course, we now know (thanks to three hundred years of perspective),\nwhat the World-State failed to perceive: That human beings need not so\nmuch 'Freedom' per se, as the 'conditions of freedom.' For in a Social\nOrder where everything is provided without effort, effort itself is\nhopelessly circumscribed. Where the 'Will to Achievement' is subtly\nneutralized by an established way of life, that precludes 'friction,'\nsuch a 'Will' becomes atrophied and progress stagnant. Just as\n'resignation' is an inadequate word to describe the psychic exhaustion\nof a wounded soldier who contemplates with indifference the immediacy\nof death, so is 'exaltation' insufficient to describe the spiritual\nchange that came over large segments of the World-State under the fine\nivory hands of the Mutants.\n\"Fortunately, the Terran Government had the wit to sense an impending\nexplosion that would have scattered their precious 'Peace' to Kingdom\nCome. Thus began the hurried exodus of both Mutants and malcontents\nto the Jovian system of Moons. The Mutants went first by unanimous\ndecision of the Council. They demanded to be taken to Ganymede, where\nwith a sigh of infinite relief (on the part of the World-State),\nthey were deposited bag and baggage. Then the malcontents were taken\nto Callisto, to Io, to Europa, and some even to one or two of those\nsmaller Moons hardly bigger than asteroids. Even in exile, however, the\nparental hand of Terra followed its strange and wayward children.\n\"For we can suppose without fear of error, that the stately World-State\nGovernment felt much as an old and weary hen that has hatched a\nparticularly bewildering brood of ducks. Deep in its heart, Terra felt\na guilty sense of blame, and had anyone been able to reach that cold\nand battered throne, he would have discovered the angry pity and vast\nmisgivings with which it undertook the colonization of the Moons.\n\"But as usual, they failed to take into consideration the\n'Unpredictable,' that cosmic accident that recurs always in the lives\nof men--thus the World-State never even dreamed of what were later on\nto be called 'The Societies.'\"\nFermin the Arch-Mutant paused meditatively in his reading, and wondered\nwith faint amusement if _Seville-Lorca_ peering from the summit of some\nremote Nirvana could see the stupendous drama that was being enacted in\nthe Moons, and write on the spectral pages of a book, a new addition\nto his \"_Annals_.\" But his sardonic reverie was suddenly arrested in\nmid-flight, for at his feet the great, golden _Felirene_ had stirred\nwith the preternatural awareness of the feline, its immense green eyes\nferal as it sensed....\n    \"_O Moon of my delight_\n     That knows no waning...\"\n               Terra--19th Century.\nIn the semi-darkness, the vast crysto-plast observatory was deserted.\nFor the fifteen Tiers devoted to the feast, overflowed with celebrants\nwho observed the three hundredth anniversary of their landing.\nAll Io seemed devoted to the chief preoccupation in their lives, and,\nhad managed to make of an historic fact, the excuse for a planet-wide\nbacchanale. Julian Varon removed his black silk mask and stepped to the\nwide balcony overhanging the plains. The frosty air was like a benison\non his narrow, high-cheek-boned face, and the silence was a greater\nblessing still. Vaguely, he remembered the lines of an ancient poem of\nthe twentieth century, which, by one of those ironies of Fate, had been\npreserved when far greater masterpieces had faded into oblivion:\n    \"_The brandy's very good--\n    Blue space before me and no sign of man._\"\nMeditatively, he raised the fragile Bacca-glass to his lips and sipped\nthe fiery liquor that Ionians distilled from the fragrant stems and\nleaves of the _Clavile_ plant. For days, his mind had whirled in\nhopeless circles, and he wondered with a curious sense of detachment,\nwhether he wouldn't be better off to leave the problem to the\nscientists. Only, it was his duty as much as any scientist, to search\nfor clues.\nJulian raised his eyes and gazed at the great tiers of stars that\nglittered above the towering, purple crags of the _Mallar_ range.\nThroughout the hours of the Ionian night, the skies had been peopled by\nthe singing of these constellations. But there had been none to hear\nit, for despite the ravages of the _Silver Plague_, the inhabited Moons\nof Jupiter had gone mad with revelry, as if they would distill the last\ndrop of pleasure from each passing hour that brought them closer and\ncloser to extinction.\n\"I wonder,\" Julian spoke aloud, \"why decadence always hastens the tempo\nof pleasure!\" He smiled acidly as his own voice sounded strange in his\nears. Below him, the blazing tiers within the transparent enveloped,\nthat was Atalanta, capital of Io, the great Galilean satellite,\nsparkled polychromatically in the night. In the utter silence, a stream\nof music faint and far away, like a tiny goblin orchestra reached him,\nas the icy wind plucked with elfin fingers at his cape.\nAnd something else reached him, too, that sent the blood racing through\nhis veins as his hypersensitive awareness of danger, translated the\nsound of stifled breathing behind him into a signal for action.\nHe whirled with a speed that was an index of Jovian training, for in\nthe vastly lighter gravities of the Moons, his muscular coordination\nwas breath-taking.\nBefore him stood a Mutant in the act of crouching for a leap. He was\nhuge, squarely built, his silver mane standing straight out as he\nsprang with a murderous rush. Julian stepped aside with calculated\nease and his left hand moved like a piston into the Mutant's face.\nThere was no time to seek the hidden \"electro\" under his arm-pit, and\npower-rapiers had to be checked before entering pleasure palaces. The\nMutant bellowed with fury, and rammed a right deep into Julian's ribs,\nthen brought up his left and Julian tasted the claret in his mouth. The\nsilver-haired, silver-eyed being was obviously fighting to kill. And\nsuddenly Julian's vast amazement changed to a cold fury that turned his\nblue-grey eyes to a smouldering black.\nHe slid two sharp jabs into his enemy, then crossed his right and felt\nbone give under his fist. He moved in, blasting with both fists like\nrocket exhausts, and heard the Mutant's breath exploding from his body.\nThe Mutant with supreme effort tossed a fist grenade at him, but Julian\nhad caught the rhythm of the battle and swayed away with it; he made\nthe assailant miss again, then with all his dynamic power sent his\nright hand crashing home.\nHe saw the Mutant, face askew, slide drunkenly to the blood-patterned\nfloor. Then cool hands were on his wrists, on his brow, and sanity\nbegan to return again.\n\"Darling!\" Narda said in a husky voice that was distilled music, and\ndrew down his golden head against a priceless gown that was all blue\nshadows and pin-points of lights, to stanch the blood from his cut\nlips. Her violet eyes were bright with unshed tears, but in the odd,\nslurred melody of her haunting voice there was no tremor as she asked,\n\"What on Io's happened? Were you recognized by any chance? _And a\nMutant...!_\"\n\"Hardly think so ... still.... Oh, forget it, this is not a night for\nproblems. Did anyone ever tell you that your eyes are in Heaven,\" he\ngrinned irresistibly with a charm that made him seem younger.\n\"No! None of your ... what was it your barbaric ancestors called\nit?... _blarney!_\" It was then she noticed the tell-tale silver flood\nat the roots of his yellow mane, and her heart stood still. _The\nSilver Plague!_ Carefully she lighted a cigarette and blew a perfect\nsmoke-ring into the icy air, she brushed an imaginary tobacco speck\nfrom lips that were like red roses. And when she spoke Narda was\nperfectly calm.\n\"I came to find you because they're going to play the _Ecstasiana_\nwith a native orchestra from Ganymede--the muted viols and flute-like\ninstruments, and those weird violins of that strange race.... We danced\nit the first time we met. Remember, my dear?\" Her eyes were radiant as\nif all her tears were concentrated in her heart, leaving only their\nsparkle behind.\nHe nodded silently. He was too full of the racking knowledge that all\nhis dreams had been destroyed by this alien malady that turned the hair\nto gleaming silver, and rendered them sterile. That, and his terrible\nlove for this exquisite, gallant being who had consecrated her youth\nand brains and loveliness to the only ideal in the chaos of their\nlives--The _Dekka_. And as they turned to go, the tiny tele-rad on\nJulian's wrist began to flash a pin-point of light in a complicated\ncode.\nThey both watched instantly alert, translating the urgent message with\nthe ease of years of experience. The message was peremptory--final.\nThey were to repair to the Dekka's ancestral Hall without delay for a\nplenary session. The laconic order ceased as the instrument went blank.\nJulian Varon looked at Narda for a long moment. Then he shrugged his\nshoulders. \"We'll have to leave right away, it may be _emergency_!\"\nNarda nodded. \"We'll have barely time to change in the spacer.\"\nFrom below, the strain of the _Ecstasiana_ rose to engulf them in a\nflood of melody.\nShe laid a sculptured hand on his arm. She was silent. She was waiting.\nThe _Dekka's_ summons brooked no delay. For this was no game of mere\nintrigue, but a gigantic fight instinct with the overwhelming drama\nof the unseen. The huge Mutant on the floor groaned and rolled to one\nknee. He had the strength and courage of a _Felirene_. He got up and\nrushed with scorn and hatred written on his features. He came with all\nrockets firing. Julian stood there in the battering storm and fought\nback. He dug his left into the flesh of the Mutant inches deep, then\nripped a hook to his jaw. In the clinch that followed he could hear\nNarda's sobbing breath, as the Mutant's laces pounded low; he countered\nwith secret, murderous tactics of his own. Then, he pulled the trigger\non his left hand, aiming with precision at a vital spot. He let it go.\nHe heard the Mutant crash against the floor and lay still. Julian stood\nfor a moment with his tongue on fire, his lungs heaving like bellows\nwith the effort. He bent down and forced himself to search the man, but\nthere were no clues on the giant.\nFrom above, Atalanta was like a gargantuan bottle left behind by some\ngod in his cups. Narda at the controls brought the intra-Moon spacer\nspiraling down expertly to a landing behind a concealing rampart of\nrock. Ahead of them a black, basaltic cliff reared its jagged crags,\nits boulder-strewn base seemingly impassable. Nevertheless, the two\nmasked and cloaked figures hurried their steps toward the desolate\nbarrier.\n\"We're probably late!\" Julian observed. \"We seem to be the last to\narrive.\" He drew his dark, _Felirene_-lined cloak closer about him and\nled the way forward.\n\"Small loss if we've missed the preliminaries!\" Narda replied. \"I\nwonder how much longer the _Dekka's_ going to wait? For fifty years\nMutants have been appearing in our midst in small numbers--changed\novernight, rendered sterile--and the scientists did nothing about it.\nLately it has become a plague that threatens the Moons with extinction,\nand still we're fumbling in the dark! Oh, Julian!\" Her voice rose in an\nascending scale of grief.\n\"Don't move!\" Julian whispered harshly and froze into immobility. He'd\ndetected motion--something that had stirred among the boulders to his\nright. Instinctively his fingers groped for the handle of the tiny\nweapon under his arm-pit. No bigger than a toy-gun, its electronic\nstream was devastating at close quarters. He aimed it at the spot where\nhe had sensed movement and fired as a darker shadow catapulted out of\nthe gloom.\nThe spectral-blue beam of radiance from the weapon met the creature\nin midair and melted a jagged hole in its side; there was a fiendish\nscream of agony, then briefly a muffled tumult among the boulders.\n\"What on Jupiter was it?\"\nNarda stepped forward to investigate, but Julian stopped her. \"No time\nnow.\" It mattered little what manner of beast had waylaid them. The\nJovian satellites, even frigid Callisto, had teemed with life of their\nown before colonization by Man. And, since the Terrans had preferred\nto build stupendous cities within transparent, berylo-plastic shields,\nshaped like bottles, there had been small point in the systematic\ndestruction of native fauna. The cities were largely self-sustaining,\nanyway. All commerce and intercourse was carried on by air. Only\nadventurers and fools would venture into the wastelands ... adventurers\nand fools, and perhaps, members of the _Dekka_.\nAs they reached the base of the cliff, Julian glanced back at Narda and\nsmiled. \"Be alert, I'm forcing issues tonight ... inaction's killing\nme!\" He was like a Martian eagle--poised for battle.\nNarda sensing his mood smiled thinly in the shadows.\nShe wondered silently what new, macabre mission would be assigned to\nthem this time. And hoped that the summons meant something far more\nthan the usual battle between rival Societies striving to milk the\nvenom from each other's fangs. For on at least three major Moons, Io,\nEuropa and Callisto, men and women were struck by an invisible foe that\nleft them trembling with fever, and when that dwindled away, a tide of\nsilver rose from the roots of their hair, and even the eyes became\nluminous with the deadly patina. Nothing was known of Ganymede. It was\nhard to tell in the absence of reports, for Ganymede, aside from its\nown native civilization, had been colonized by Terran Mutants, who\ncould and did procreate, thus perpetuating their race. But the victims\nof the Silver Plague were left sterile. It was hard to differentiate.\nMeanwhile the Moons were dying!\nAnd yet, a stubborn feeling in her heart kept insisting that perhaps\nthe _Plague_ was something man-made, and like all poisons should have\nan antidote. She glanced at Julian and shuddered with anguish--there\nwould be no progeny for them--her own turn might be next! What a\nfiendish weapon, if _it was a weapon_, she thought. The ultimate in\nrefinement of warfare--a refinement that in their Moons had been going\non for three hundred years!\nNarda shivered again, increasingly cold, as she let her mind rove\nbriefly over their past history and their centuries of spurious\npeace. For nothing as crude as open, physical warfare disturbed ever\nthe equilibrium of the various Moons. On the surface, the various\ngovernments maintained the most cordial relations--idyllic almost.\nBut underneath--that was a different story! The most ruthless strife\nhad never abated for even an hour. It might take the form of secretly\nsystematic destruction of vibroponic farms of a world desperately in\nneed of food; or perhaps the categorical embargo of essential supplies\nnon-existent in another Moon. Or the proselyting of vast members of\ncolonists from a sister world by means of economic lures. The loser\nalways paid enormous ransom in whatever it was the victor coveted.\nThus the subterranean warfare was carried on by secret Societies, much\nas hitherto the Ancients on Terra had employed secret agents, members\nof the powerful \"Intelligence.\" Only that on the \"Moons,\" the Societies\nhad much greater power than the _laissez-faire_ governments themselves.\nEach Moon had its \"Society,\" disavowed, legendary, invisible. They\nmaintained secret armies of Astro-operatives and space navies always in\nreadiness for _any_ eventuality--or an initial _open_ break that none\nof them had the courage to be the first to start. But more important\nstill, in their vast, secret laboratories, armies of scientists and\ntechnicians toiled ceaselessly on new techniques and inventions.\nDelved into intricate psychological data that was a miracle of\ningenuity, calculated always to prepare as far as possible against the\n_unpredictable_.\nThe murmuring wind of Io swirled among the stones and laved them with\nits icy caress, and Narda trembled violently again. This time the spasm\nfailed to abate, and she whispered through chattering teeth:\n\"Please, Julian ... hurry. I'm chilled to the marrow ... d-dear....\"\n\"You're what?\" His voice was suddenly a rasping in his throat.\nJulian straightened slowly from where he kneeled at the base of the\ncliff, where he'd been activating the mechanism of the concealed\nentrance with the wrist transmitter. He eyed the convulsed form of\nNarda then touched her burning forehead; he noted the tendons corded\nat her throat. A cold sweat of anguish beaded his brow as he said\ncasually, \"It is cold, darling,\" and then he punched carefully,\nprecisely, and cried with agony as he felt his hand touch her flesh.\nHe caught her tenderly as she slumped in his arms without a sound. He\nkissed her cold cheek and sought consolation in the fact that she would\nnot suffer the first harrowing convulsive fever of the Plague. It would\nlast for two hours. _How well he knew from experience the course of the\ndisease!_ And he hoped Narda would not come to before then.\nQuickly he retraced his steps to where they had left the ship, and\ndeposited her inert form in the control room. Then he prepared a note\nwhich he placed in her hand, it read: \"_It was the kindest thing to do,\ndarling. Wait until I return. There's hope._\"\nHe finally adjusted the wrist-transmitter to the exact wave-length\nrequired to open the entrance to the _Dekka's_ Hall of Sessions, raced\nswiftly toward the cliff like a disembodied shadow. In the distance\na golden _Felirene_ wailed its banshee love-call, urgent, savage--as\nsavage as the burning agony that stifled Julian's breath, and as\nprimordial.\n    _\"For this is wisdom--\n    Not to love and live\n    But to question what Fate\n    Or the Gods may give....\"_\n        Terra--20th Century.\n\"I for one, have no intention of being sterilized by--shall we\nsay--remote control!\" The sardonic voice paused for emphasis. That\nwould be _Astran_, Julian thought as he entered the great Hall, vast\nenough to encompass an army. The satirical tones were all too familiar;\nhe had heard them many, many times during the years he had risen from\na mere Astro-operative, through the successive stages of \"Facet,\"\nSection-Facet Arch-Guardian; Techno-Star and finally had become\nControl-Facet, representing the flat, top-most facet of the stupendous\njewel that hung above the Dais of the _Dekka_. \"Dekkans,\" the voice\ncontinued, \"despite my great age, I can think of less inglorious ends\nthan to die impotent!\" The flaming glory of the immense diamond cut in\nthe shape of a ten-point double star, veiled the speaker.\n\"Perhaps we're not facing a conscious enemy at all--that is, none that\nwe have been able to discover,\" Astran amended with a dry chuckle\ndistilled of acid. \"And believe me, the resources of the _Dekka_ are\nanything but negligible! However, it may be that through a weakening\nof our race as a whole because of our existence under a different\nenvironment than Earth, we have succumbed to a microorganism native\nto these Moons, which originally were too alien to fit in mankind's\nmetabolic processes. But now, now that through centuries of adaptation\nwe have subtly changed. _It_ ... whatever it is, filtrable virus,\nmicroorganism, or whatever, _has had a chance to take hold_. All of\nyou know the effects of the disease--hypertrophy of pigmentation\nglands--silver hair and eyes, as well as its one single deadly\nresult--_sterility_!\" Astran paused on the ghastly thought and let it\nsink in.\n\"Our scientists have been unable to isolate the germ, it must be a\nfiltrable virus ... that is their problem. But, if as I suspect there\nis a ... what was it the barbaric, ancient Romans called it?... a\n_Deux ex machina_ behind it, then, by the perdurable glory of our\nMoon, gentlemen, I pledge a holocaust that'll dwarf Jupiter's Red Spot\ninto insignificance!\" The capacity for destruction in Astran's cold,\ndispassionate voice was awesome.\nIn the ensuing silence, Julian's mind trained to the apex of its\nwide-awakedness, felt the horror-vibration that swept the audience of\nDekkans. He saw the coruscating streamers of living fire that blazed\nfrom the stupendous double star, and, with a feeling of shock saw\nthat ahead of him an Astro-operative's mask had slid imperceptibly to\none side, enough to expose a tell-tale _silver tide that had reached\nhalf-an-inch above the hair-roots_!\nCasually almost, Julian moved with his strange, smooth elegance\nover the ethereal blueness of the safiro-plast flooring, and the\nimperturbable gaze of his frigid eyes probed into the suddenly startled\nglare of the man. Without warning his hand flashed out and came away\nwith the torn mask. A wealth of hair that had been tinted gold but\nshowed unmistakable silver at the roots and parting cascaded to his\nshoulders.\nThe narrow face of the Mutant, with its thin, high-bridged nose and\nsilver eyes, flushed crimson as he was exposed, and the long claw-like\nhand darted to his side, groping for the deadly Power-rapier that\nwas _de rigeur_. All in one sinuous motion he lunged with the weapon\nthat described a silver vortex under the fulgurant star. In the utter\nsilence Julian, too, had drawn.\nThe breath of all present seemed to pause for a startled second, then\ntheir ranks split to give them room. There could be no interference\nin a duel, that was the law. There was courage in the Mutant, a\nfanatical valor that was mirrored in his eyes. He knew his life to be\nforfeit--and he intended to sell it as dearly as he possibly could.\nOnly the singing impact of the blades was heard, as the darting swords\nparried and cut, swirling streamers of unleashed power. And suddenly,\nthe Mutant seemed to recoil upon himself, as if gathering all his\nreserves of strength, then he launched himself forward in a vertiginous\nfury of unholy speed. And that was his undoing, for Julian trained\nunder Jovian gravity could more than match it, and the Mutant staking\nall on speed, had had to sacrifice his guard. There was a soundless\nflash, like the glare from a gigantic glass, and where the Mutant's\nchest had been there was only space, space lit by the spectral-blueness\nof the Dekka Star. The body fell a charred and twisted thing from which\nthe watchers averted their eyes. The peculiar odor of disintegrated\nflesh stung their nostrils.\nFor the first time in living memory, a spy had contrived to enter their\nmidst. Julian didn't care to think what would happen to the units who\nguarded and activated the Neuro-graphs that were posted the length of\nthe entrance corridor. Still, it was obvious that only a mind of great\npower could have had the satanic ingenuity to plan an invasion of the\n_Dekka's_ Hall of Sessions.\nJulian Varon bent over the mutilated form suppressing an impulse to\nretch. It was unmistakably a _true_ Mutant from Ganymede, where the\ndark flower of their civilization had reached obscure heights. The\nfeatures of the man were unmistakeable. As he straightened, Julian\nraised his left arm exposing the tiny double star at his wrist, symbol\nof his rank, and belatedly reported to the _Dekka_.\n\"A Ganymedean Mutant, _Serenity_!\" Julian spoke, facing toward the Dais\nwhere he knew Astran stood behind the veiling curtain of light shed\nby the diamond star. \"This dubious honor is the second one tonight,\"\nJulian said with a mirthless laugh. \"I've fought one bare-handed, the\nother with Power-rapiers, I should like the next encounter to be with\n'Electro-cannon!' However, perhaps these two encounters are something\nof a clue. Surely,\" he paused and swept the assembled Dekkans with his\neyes, \"they must form part of a definite pattern.\"\n\"Please continue, Control-Facet,\" Astran's voice held a note of\nsuppressed excitement.\n\"Simply that it has occurred to me, that while we on Io, the dwellers\non Europa and even Callisto have been ravaged by this hellish disease,\nGanymede has failed even to _mention_ the scourge in their reports.\nEven taking for granted their genius for silence and intrigue--their\naloofness from their sister-worlds' affairs, such a catastrophe as\nthis Plague should have blasted them out of their shells, _if they have\nbeen ravaged, too_! If not,\" Julian paused deliberately, and into these\nwords he put all the dynamic, irresistible power of his trained voice,\n\"_we should investigate, regardless of consequences_!\"\n\"Investigate!\" Astran's voice held a grim sardonicism. \"If what I\n_intuit_ is true, we, the Dekka are prepared to underwrite Jovian\nhistory for the next hundred years!\"\nJulian sighed with a sudden feeling of exultance, and he knew why.\nWryly, he was aware that what Astran termed \"intuit\" was an integer\nof vastly complicated cerebro-geometric figures; graphs of brainpower\ncoordinates and emotional integers, whose tendrils root-like delved\ninto the innermost recesses of the human mind. And Astran was perhaps\nthe greatest Cerebro-Geometrician of them all. Quite obviously the\nscientists of the Dekka had been far from idle. And, the expose of the\nMutant spy had been like a piece in a jig-saw puzzle falling into place\nand revealing the beginnings of a pattern of some sort, but as yet not\nclear.\n\"Quorum!\" Astran's voice rose imperatively. \"Astro-operatives and\nFacets clear the Hall. All others remain.\"\nThe real session was about to begin. Julian Varon knew it all by heart.\nThe endless series of individual reports on every nook and corner\nof their worlds, so that each member of the Dekka present would be\nacquainted with the sum total of their individual experiences. Still\nthey remained masked.\nA great multitude of lesser members surged toward the exit, while those\nchosen to remain grouped forward under the flaming diamond star, whose\nlight veiled the ten members of the _Dekka_. For the ten leaders of\ntheir order of whom Astran was the foremost, might be known by their\nnames, recognized by their voices, but they were never seen. There was\na saying that all others \"could enter the light, but could never touch\nthe flame.\"\nAll the waning night, while Io revelled in a fantastic carnival of\npleasure, they gave their reports in minute detail, and the ten minds\non the dais that formed the Dekka, made calculations with infinite\npatience and fed them to the Neuro-graphs by their desks complicated\ncerebro-geometric figurates were set up, and woven into the matrix\nof their problem. The possible influence of certain key figures in\nthe Societies of other Moons whose intelligence, emotional stability\nand intellectual attributes were known, was reduced to high-level\nvariables, and again fed to the marvelous machines together with the\nrelevant data culled from the members present. Astran was like a raging\njuggernaut, asking questions, prodding laggard memories, directing the\nother nine members of the Dekka. He was tireless, and pitiless. How at\nhis great age he could accomplish it, was a mystery. But it had been\nthat boundless energy and stupendous will that had been responsible for\nthe greatness of Io--not to speak of the _Dekka_.\n_He must be over two hundred!_ Julian thought with awe, recalling dimly\nthe \"Memoirs\" of an earlier historian whom Astran had commissioned to\ncompile a history of Io, and in so doing had managed to bedevil that\npoor man's life to such an extent, that the historian had counted the\ncessation of Astran's visits as among the compensations for dying!...\nThat had been fifty years ago, when already for a century Astran had\nled the Dekka.\nAt last, the Neuro-Graph machines, marvelous as they were could do no\nmore. Out of that welter of figures, endless reports and calculations,\none master mathematical conclusion remained. _The answer lay in\nGanymede!_\nIt suddenly occurred to Julian just how ghastly was the irony of\ntheir position. For their ancestors in gaining all the \"conditions of\nfreedom,\" had gained far more than they'd bargained for, including this\nepidemic of Mutations that in rendering them sterile sealed the doom\nof their Moons. Had _Terra_ known it, this was the perfect answer--a\nfew decades and all of them would remain only as a Mars-dry chapter in\nhistory.\nThey had sown the whirlwind ... and were reaping extinction!\nAnd Julian found a kindred feeling in the vast capacity for sheer\ndestruction that Astran had hinted at tonight.\nIf the answer lay in Ganymede with its dual civilization of Terran\nmutants and their descendants, and the original Ganymedean race,\nhe meant to visit that stupefying world of cabals and intrigues and\nunrivaled luxury.\nJulian stood alone at last beside the spacer where lay Narda's\nunconscious form. He glanced up into the ultra-marine skies blazing\nwith myriad fiery roses, and gazed at the red ruby that was Ganymede\nreflecting the great Red Spot of the parent world.\nFinally Julian entered the spacer and tenderly raised Narda's head\nto pour Sulfalixir down her throat. First he had to take her where\nshe would be cared for, and then ... and then.... With a sigh he took\nthe controls and set the drive. In seconds he was soaring, above the\ndeserted plains.\n    \"_Terra glances--Men bend low--\n    As Death dances, on tip-toe!_\"\n        Io--_27th Century_.\nLike a shallow bowl hooded in starlight, the secret Ganymedean landing\nfields came rushing upward as Julian coasted the muted spacer,\ndescending in a great rush of wind.\nIt seemed deserted and bleak, coldly uninviting. There was a brief jar\nas Julian made contact and brought the small but almost invulnerable\nsemi-cruiser to a partial stop. His fingers were still over the\nbanked keys when it came with mind-shattering suddenness--a burst of\nintolerable light! The spacer trembled, shuddered like a living thing.\nInstantly the hidden depression was alive with shadow-shapes as the\nfirst shot struck home. Again the livid-orange flare blotted out the\nstarlight with a macabre radiance, and Julian reeled against the panel.\nHe had time for but one thought: \"Hidden! Secret, eh!\"\nHe pressed the stud and drove the \"Drive\" forward one quarter. The\nspacer reared like a mammoth stallion and plunged vertiginously into\nthe mass of men and projectors, scattering rocks and limbs in a welter\nof crushed metal and torn flesh. The pandemonium of screams and\nexplosions was drowned in the roar of the hurtling ship. The warm blood\nspurted out of Julian's ears and its acrid scent was in his nostrils.\nThe momentum had carried the spacer across the entire field before\nJulian could bring it to a stop. Reeling with the effects of concussion\nhe drove himself out of the wounded vessel and into the darkness of\nthe tumbled terrain. The city was very near, he knew, even if no\ngarish brilliance heralded it. He had to get to it.... _He had to!_\nThe \"plan\" was complete, and even if only one small phase of the plan\nwere defeated, the whole pattern would have to be reconstructed and the\nelement of surprise would be lost.\nAnd then he realized grayly that an _awareness_ of the Plan existed.\nElse how explain such a reception? Violence was out in the open now.\nAnd, the _Dekka_ had not been the one to force the issue. Still, the\npressure of the thought in his mind--the overwhelming responsibility\nof his task--was so great, that it drove him with cyclonic power. It\nlent wings to his strength as he covered the distance in great leaps,\nand was profoundly grateful for his Jovian training. The tumult behind\nhim receded into the distance, became indistinct. But Julian knew that\ntransmitters would be crackling with warning. His instinctive ruse with\nthe spacer had worked like a miracle, but he knew he could not hope to\nhave disposed of all his attackers. They would be on his trail like\nbloodhounds in short order!\nThe darkness now was but faintly suffused with the shimmer of\nstarlight, and great sections of the sky were blotted out. He came up\nagainst a solid barrier and realized he was in the city. Ahead loomed a\nvast shadow whose upthrust towers caught glimmers of faint luminescence.\n\"The Temple!\" he breathed, and darted like a hunted animal into the\nsilent sanctuary. He didn't deceive himself that he would be inviolate,\nalthough that was the law; but it was a respite. Time to get his\nbearings in the damnable city of darkness and tortuous ways.\nOnce within the lofty nave of the temple, Julian took swift stock of\nhis surroundings. It was illuminated with surpassing skill, soothing,\ncaressing almost. But it suddenly struck him that the perfection of\nthe workmanship had a double purpose--it served primarily to mask the\nimpregnability of the place. It was a veritable fortress instantly\nconvertible if the need arose. It had been built to withstand a siege!\nAhead of him was a lofty, jewel-encrusted altar. But no idol was\nenthroned there. No inscription even. Only the raging inferno of a\nminiature atomic-vortex held under control by some unknown means and\nenclosed in a transparent substance which he rightly judged to be an\nillusion, and was a field of force, in reality. There seemed to be no\nexit anywhere, except the entrance through which he had come. Julian\nhad suddenly come to the end.\nHe searched like a trapped creature, his whole being convulsed by the\nurgency of his will, while the tumult of the chase drew nearer and\nnearer with desperate urgency he explored the altar. \"_Surely_,\" he\nreasoned, \"_there must be some way the priests of the temple reach the\nnave!_\" With frantic fingers he explored the gemmed surfaces, driving\nhis mind to intuit the logical means of ingress not to speak _egress_.\nThe chromatic shimmer of the gems blurred and merged together, formed\ncuriously fantastic patterns, as his senses reeled through the\nafter-effects of concussion. Imperceptibly almost, his probing fingers\nfelt a slight projection on a flat surface. With a swift, jabbing\nmotion he pushed in, and a circular section the size of a small coin\nslid to one side. There was a thin metallic ring beneath. He twisted\nit, and the whole section large enough for a stooping man to enter\nswung silently inward. He hesitated briefly gazing into the dark\naperture. He could already hear clearly the shouted commands of his\npursuers, as the troops deployed into the branching streets. He entered\nand the aperture closed.\nWhen the golden _Felirene_ sprawled on the fabulous rug twitched its\nplumed tail and narrowed its lambent eyes to slits of emerald fire,\nFermin, the Arch-Mutant did not move. He did not raise his head.\nThe silver-grey eyes remained fixed, the slightly narrow skull\nimmobile; outwardly, he seemed absorbed in the photo-plastic record.\nBut the long, fragile finger of his hand pressed one of the gems that\nstudded the milky whiteness of the Jadite chair on which he sat.\nImperceptibly the jewel depressed. In the open hearth before him, a\nburning log of aromatic wood crackled and sent up a shower of sparks\nlike shooting stars against the blue glory of the aquamarine glass\ncolumns that flanked it.\n\"The slightest movement means death!\" Fermin said softly, in a voice\nthat was calm and poised and unhurried. \"Even a spoken word might set\n_it_ off.\" In the brooding silence, the subdued hissing of the flames\ncould be heard.\n\"You see, intruder, you're standing in a radio beam that controls a\nNeuro-flash. The slightest movement disturbs the beam, which in turn\nreleases the \"flash.\" A most deplorable accident....\" His voice trailed\ninto a melodious undertone faintly etched with laughter. Then he rose\nand flung back the folds of his jewelled scarlet robe, bright as fresh\nblood, with a gesture of fastidious elegance.\n\"Come, _Sappho_ ... let us welcome our guest!\" he bade the now\ncrouching, six-foot-long beast whose formidable claws were bared.\n\"This is a memorable occurrence!\" He moved with an effortless surety\nremarkable in its economy of movement; there was something oddly\nregal and imperturbable in his stride. Beside him, Sappho, the feral\ncreature, paced with a fluid motion almost like flight, its golden fur\ngleaming with firelight reflections.\nAcross an invisible, if lethal barrier they met.\nFermin gazed into the inscrutable eyes, blue-grey and silvered, almost\nlike his own. He appraised the astonishing shoulders of the man,\nthe golden hair with the unmistakable rising tide of silver. Noted\nthe absence of weapons except for the usual power-rapier. \"What a\nmagnificent addition to our cause,\" he meditated. Unhurriedly Fermin\nretraced his steps to the chair, and depressed another flashing gem\nthat shut off the radio-beam, then came back to the silent man. \"How,\"\nhe inquired in a voice like ice, \"did you get in here?\" Inwardly Fermin\nwas torn between the desire to let _Sappho_ display her peculiar\ntalents, and that of adding yet another valuable recruit to the cause.\nHe smiled slowly as if reading the intruder's thoughts: \"It is safe to\nspeak now,\" he pointed out. \"I've shut off the power.\"\n\"My entrance is but a detail,\" Julian answered. His eyes traveled\nslowly, noting the shock of translucent hair, the silver eyes, then\npaused briefly at the power-rapier hanging from Fermin's belt. For a\nsecond he had an almost uncontrollable desire to laugh at the ghastly\nirony of it. After waiting for hours in the secret passage, he had to\nblunder headlong into the presence of the one being in all Ganymede he\nwould have avoided at all costs!\n\"I sought sanctuary and there was the Temple-nave. It's inviolate,\nisn't it?\" (_The point was, should he brazen it out or fight._)\n\"Of course!\"\n\"But obviously, I couldn't remain in the Temple forever, so ... I had\nto find an exit.\" (_Wonder if the paralysis ray works on a Felirene!_)\n\"Continue, please,\" Fermin's voice was a smooth purr.\n\"The atomic vortex drew my attention and I found beneath it what I\nsought. Then, when I came in here and saw you absorbed in those\nrecords ... why, I hesitated....\"\n\"_As simple as that._\" A world of irony lay in Fermin's pellucid tones.\nThe smile of ancient Medusa, would have been mild compared with the\nchange that came over the Arch-Mutant's face. \"No doubt, it is also a\nmere detail that the Atomic-vortex--which represents, incidentally,\nthe Absolute--is absolutely fatal! That secret exit beneath the altar\nis known only to five other persons besides myself. And, that the\nslightest miscalculation in manipulating the secondary controls of the\nlast door that leads to this chamber, releases an electronic current\nsufficient in itself to incinerate a squadron! Remarkable!\" Fermin's\neyes were flashing molten silver. \"And casually strolled through!\" The\nhooded eyes were shadowed with death now. \"However,\" the unhurried\nvoice continued, \"_we expected you, Julian Varon_.\"\n\"Yes, I am Varon,\" Julian answered with a sort of sardonic calm he\nreserved for moments when death loomed very near. \"I am too near _the\nflame_ to have dispensed with your attention. The point is, Fermin,\nI thought you a gentleman, while you seem to consider me a knave.\nI'm afraid we are both mistaken!\" His generous mouth curved in a\ncontemptuous smile, as the taunt struck home. Death was something the\nmembers of the Dekka had to learn to accept in advance.\nFermin chuckled, if anything as vulgar as a chuckle might be said to\nissue from those chiselled, aristocratic lips, but his face was ashen\nas his hand grasped the neutralized hilt of his Power-rapier.\n\"My rank is higher than a Prince, Dekkan--I don't have to be a\ngentleman! My mistake lay in thinking that you might be interested in\nan offer I was about to make. After all, _you're a sterile Mutant now_.\"\nThe savage Felirene licked its golden muzzle and gave a muffled roar\nas if tired of waiting, its prodigious musculature rippled under the\nmetallic sheen of its priceless fur. Fermin stroked it caressingly.\n\"See, even Sappho has lost patience. I regret I must subject you to\nthe Psycho-graph--that is, unless you prefer to tell me the reason for\nyour visit of your own accord.\" The mellifluous accents were a study in\nmodulation--clear, precise--sardonic.\nJulian had a flashing remembrance of what a Psycho-graph could do\nto him. It had happened once before during his twenty-nine years of\nexistence. He relived for an instant the burst of dazzling light, the\nagonizing fury in his brain, while voices that mocked and danced and\nprobed penetrated deeper and deeper into his consciousness until they\nbecame a searing Babel in his mind. Julian had vowed it would never\nhappen again. Suddenly he blanked his mind with swift ruthlessness.\nAnd with the same savage ruthlessness he struck. A tiny paralysis\nbeam flashed from the ring on his left little finger and stretched\nout the Felirene without a sound. His right hand already had sought\nthe Power-rapier and the flashing blade described a scintillant wheel\nbefore him. But Fermin's reflexes were quite as swift. His own blade\nleaped into his long, aristocratic hand, as he sought cunningly to back\ntoward the Jadite chair.\nBut Julian didn't give him that chance he needed, his onslaught drove\nforward with appalling speed, slashing, parrying, probing like a\nliving thing, until the Arch-Mutant's face went gray, shadowed by\nthe first fear he had known in his extraordinary life. Craftily, the\nscarlet-robed Arch-dynast feinted to the left, in the secret Ganymedean\nlure, and to his vast astonishment saw the lure engaged, _and then_,\na searing flash that coruscated before his dazzled eyes left him only\nthe neutralized hilt of his rapier in his hand! Fermin had a confused\npicture of molten drops spilling from the weightless hilt and of golden\nmotes dancing before his eyes, when the paralysis beam convulsed him\nin a frozen shudder and he tumbled slowly to the rug--graceful even in\nunconsciousness.\nJulian did not waste a single precious second. Both Fermin and his\n_alter ego_ would be out for at least two or three hours, he knew.\nBut his presence might be discovered there any moment. He search\nthe jewelled cabinets that lined one wall. Feverishly he scanned\nthe photo-plastic record on the stand, and even read the flowing\nhieroglyphics of Ganymede, so much like the written Arabic of forgotten\nantiquity, which he found in a special compartment over the hearth, and\nfound ... nothing! Nothing but a single word, frozen and faded in a now\nneutralized telesolidograph screen that flanked the white splendor of\nthe Jadite chair. The word was \"_Paradisiac_.\" And that was the name\nof perhaps the most glamorous, and the most dangerous pleasure den in\ntheir known universe.\nAt last in desperation, he searched the fallen body unceremoniously.\nThe jewelled garments of the Arch-Mutant yielded no records, no secret\nnotes, only a tiny vial fashioned of a single blood-red _Panagran_,\nwhich contained a colorless liquid. This, Julian thrust into a pocket.\nThen like a wraith he melted into the aquamarine penumbra of the\ntitanic columns and disappeared as soundlessly as he had come.\nOnce out in the diluted scarlet of Ganymede's morning, he saw that the\ntemple was ringed with guards. Most of them lounged in the careless\nsense of security that comes with routine. Julian, the pupils of\nhis eyes dilating, slid along the side of one wall, there was only\none guard there--beyond was a wide avenue somewhere along which the\nParadisiac was located. He moved as quietly as a _Felirene_, as\nimplacable as death. The guard never even felt the blow that felled\nhim. Then Julian was sprinting madly as shouts rose behind him in the\nroseate gloom.\n\"Damn this pink fog!\" he exclaimed through clenched teeth.\nBehind him the muffled stamp of scurrying feet and the metallic\nscraping of power-rapiers became distinct; oaths and imprecations in\nvarious dialects grew loud.\nHe swerved aside into a half-concealed doorway to hide his progress,\nfor it wouldn't do to have his pursuers see him. A badly aimed\npower-beam from an old-fashioned heat-ray gun splashed off a\nwall not a block distant, in incandescent fury. \"The fools!\" he\nthought contemptuously. But his eyes scanned the buildings for\na sign of the \"Paradisiac.\" He was beyond fear--beyond emotion\neven. But what bothered him in a sort of dazed wonderment was that\nthe word \"Paradisiac\" should have been frozen in the neutralized\ntelesolidograph. For his assignment as part of the \"Plan\" was to meet\nanother member of the Dekka, a Techno-Star, at the \"rendezvous!\" How\nFermin, the Arch-Mutant had managed to obtain that information was\nincredible! It was an index to plans and forces he had not previously\nconceived.\nBut the problem now was to find the Paradisiac, he had merely a matter\nof minutes in which to seek concealment. And in this world of tortuous\ncabals not to speak of instant death, no blatant signs advertised\npleasure, shelter or concealment. The latter was an art that was\nsubtly applied to itself. One either did, or did not, know where to go.\nSanctuary was there for the asking--at a price. But the signs were only\nfor the initiate to recognize.\nDesperately Julian tuned in the secret wave-length of the _Dekka_,\nand turning his wrist-transmitter to full force, sent out in code a\nstreamlined account of what had transpired since his landing, as a last\ndetail he told briefly of his encounter with Fermin, and of taking the\ncurious vial from the Arch-Mutant. It was then that out of the soft,\nroseate haze, a brilliant, vari-colored pinwheel flashed briefly, then\nvanished as if it had never been, not fifty paces from where he stood.\nAnd Julian without hesitation was at the blank, beryloid wall in a few\nstrides.\nWith his rapier-scabbard, he tapped a series of sounds, and the wall\nseemed to part, just wide enough for him to squeeze through the\naperture. Behind him, the incredibly resistant plastic wall had closed.\nIn silence he waited, trying to control his labored breathing. Knowing\nthat he was being inspected, and that the translucent barrier before\nhim would or would not open--as _they_ willed. The thought flashed\nthrough his mind that perhaps this _sub-rosa_ stronghold of the Dekka,\nkept ostensibly as a pleasure-den, might have become tainted--a trap\ninstead of a refuge. And in that brief instant of harrowing suspense,\nJulian became conscious of a presence, something cold and weirdly\nimpersonal, that pervaded the cubicle with its aura. He shifted\nuneasily, poised with a grim determination. The blood-stained fabric\nmoulded to his superb torso gleamed with the sheen of wet metal under\nthe soporific illumination. There was no sound save his audible\nbreathing.\nAfter what seemed eternity--in reality seconds--the wall before him\nslid silently aside. A long corridor stretched before him. It led to\nthe public rooms. The sudden shock of overwhelming relief had the\nquality of vertigo. The quadrangle walls seemed to lose solidity and\nbecome curved. He shut his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, the\nwall on the left side of the quadrangle bore a message in brilliant\nletters as if they'd emerged glowing from the plastic substance itself.\nIt was a message and a question:\n\"PUBLIC ROOMS NOT NEUTRAL. DISGUISE DESIRED?\"\nJulian stared. Behind the silver-grey brilliance of his eyes, a mind\ntrained to irrevocable decisions worked at the level of maximum\nawareness. His judgment balanced factors and variables. True, his\ninstructions had been to seek sanctuary here, at this place, and\non this street that for all its seemingly deserted obscurity was\nhoneycombed with palaces fabulous for luxury and unlimited pleasures.\nEven the exotic tastes of jaded minds whose more esoteric interests\ncould only be aroused by pain--the wild suffering of crucified\nflesh--were catered to.\nFugitives from half a dozen worlds lost their identity in the opulent\nwarrens where \"life\" so often could be bought and sold with oblique\nindifference. But he had to visit the Public Rooms--his only contact\nwith what he had come to seek _was there_! Someone who had devoted a\nlifetime to the Dekka, in Ganymede. Imperturbably he re-read the fading\nwords, and with a mental squaring of his shoulders, he replied:\n\"Yes. Nothing _organic_, of course. But it must be more than merely\nskillful!\"\nInstantly the wall glowed again:\n\"THE SIXTH PANEL TO YOUR LEFT AWAITS YOUR PLEASURE.\"\nJulian strode down the hall and paused before the sixth panel, it\nopened inwardly with the same silent precision that characterized\neverything in the place. Thus far he had seen no one. The maximum\nanonymity was, of course, essential. Still, there was something\neerie in the atmosphere of complete detachment. He entered and found\nhimself in a circular room with curving, almost translucent walls.\nThe floor was firm, yet resilient under foot. He felt like a fop\nat a rejuvenation center, and laughed suddenly at the thought. His\nwhole countenance was lit by that rare smile. From somewhere a slim,\ncompletely masked creature glided silently into the room.\nJulian judged its height at slightly less than five feet; however,\nbeyond the fact that its body was undeniably human, and exquisitely\nproportioned, Julian was unable to go, for the being's skin-tight\ngarment left not an inch of surface exposed--except its hands. These\nwere long, and marvelously sensitive, with a nervous life of their own\nas if they acted independently of the Ganymedean's guiding brain.\nThey were measuring him now, taking in the magnificent breadth of\nshoulder, the long, flat thighs and narrow waist, above which rose\nthe inverted pyramid that was Julian's torso. At last they carefully\nremoved his helmet and paused as if appraising the great shock of\ngolden hair. With a swift motion that took in Julian's entire body,\nthe designer indicated that Julian strip. Again the exquisite hands\nrepeated the gesture--impatiently this time--but Julian, his face set,\nstill hesitated.\nThe designer was a native Ganymedean, beyond doubt--Julian knew that\nmuch. But, was it a man or a woman? Julian was well aware that the\nexquisite beings of fabulous Ganymede, who even when confronted with\nthe outrage that was _The Dynasty_, foisted upon them by the Terran\nMutants had disdained arming themselves to the teeth as the rest of\nthe Moons had done, had some very strange ideas about things. And the\n\"Control-Facet\" had no intention of disrobing before a woman--even as\nalien and anonymous a being as the Ganymedeans. His face was beginning\nto flush with sheer annoyance.\nAs if reading Julian's thoughts, the masked designer shook its head\nand made an expressive gesture with its hands, as if Julian's nudity\nwould be a thing of such utter unimportance, that it would scarcely be\nnoticed, except as a foundation upon which to achieve a superlative\ndisguise. And Julian had no alternative. It was either disrobe or enter\nthe Public Rooms as he was. Mentally he consigned the stubborn race of\nGanymede to the most sulphuric region he could think of, and palming\nhis electro-beam, undressed. The coldly unemotional designer was unable\nto suppress a gasp! Its ancient, long-forgotten Gods must have been\nlike this; theirs was a cult of beauty, and in Julian it was witnessing\na masterpiece. Almost, reverently, the fluttering hands began their\nwork.\nThe Ganymedean's artistry was very great. \"_Part of their accursed\nstubbornness!_\" Julian thought. For the Ganymedeans had an exasperating\ntenacity of purpose which brooked no obstacles until they achieved\ntheir ends--it bordered on genius, or madness, or both. Had they\ndevoted it to the art of War, Seville-Lorca's \"_Jovian Annals_\" would\nhave been a vastly different story.\nThe space-tanned face with its slightly flaring nostrils, and large\nsilver-grey eyes, crowned by the shock of golden mane, began to change\nsubtly under the magical hands of the designer. Slowly the shoulder\nlong hair took on a dull, ruddy sheen, while the coppered complexion\npaled and a temporary irritant brought a deep flush to his cheeks.\nWith deft movements, the winged brows were darkened and narrowed, and\nthe generous, full lips were pulled slightly inwards and taped with\ninvisi-plastic, until only a thin, cruel curve remained. The Ganymedean\nstepped back and scrutinized the effect. Quickly it crossed to a part\nof the circular chamber and then pressed a stud. A great section of\nthe wall sank downward, revealing tier after tier of dazzling costumes\nalready composed. There were gossamer silks from Venus, lustrous as\nmoonlight pools; the opulent gleam of stiff brocades from Mars, as\nunyielding as the character of that supercilious race. Velvets like\ncrushed petals, embroidered in _Starlimans_, the priceless green\ndiamonds of Mercury; vivid fabrics from distant Neptune, which were\nnot woven at all, but secret plastics worth a small fortune each. And,\nthey were all green--in an infinite gradation of shades, nuances, hues.\nThe artist's hands reached and drew forth a single garment open at the\nback. And then the real work began.\nJulian's eyes were inscrutable. He had not been asked what effect was\nto be achieved, or indeed how he wished to be changed. True, nothing of\nan _organic_ nature had been attempted. But he was not used to this.\nThe Ganymedean designer, whatever it was, was a great artist. Great\nenough to take liberties, or else possessed of the effrontery of\ngenius. But then, Julian meditated, Ganymedeans were like that. There\nwere times when one didn't know whether to slay them or leave them.\nThen it occurred to Julian that perhaps the instructions of the _Dekka_\nhad been specific. But dismissed the thought with a wry smile. Even\nthe Dekka's instructions as to the actual disguise would have been\nquietly ignored by this creature. It was a work of art, and in that\nrealm, Ganymedeans listened to no one. But his meditation was cut short\nby the gestures of the artist, which clearly indicated that Julian tilt\nhis head. In his hands he held a tiny bottle, and something like an\neye-dropper.\n\"I said _nothing organic_!\" Julian reminded him coldly.\n\"A tint, nothing more,\" the Ganymedean spoke for the first time in\nsoft, slurred accents. \"It will only last a few days, then disappear.\nAnd, without it, the work is incomplete.\" Julian submitted reluctantly.\nThe artist was at last finished. One graceful hand motioned toward a\nhuge moon of a mirror suspended by anti-gravitic means, and Julian\nturned curiously to see what the creature had transformed him into.\nHis astounded gasp was audible in the silent alcove. For he saw a\ntall, disdainful Martian whose violet eyes looked coldly out a face he\ncouldn't recognize as his own; a mane of ruddy, curling ringlets fell\nto the neck-line, while thin, cruel lips curving slightly expressed\nunutterable boredom. For the rest, his body was sheathed in palest\nsilver-green, of a texture like human epidermis--satiny, rippling with\nhis every movement, while a great belt of _Panagrans_ circled his\nnarrow waist.\nThe Ganymedean held up an expressive finger, then flew to a drawer\nhidden beneath the folds of the costumes. He extracted something and\ncame swiftly back. Julian felt a sharp pain in his left ear-lobe, then\nthe icy sensation of a cauterizer stanching the capillary flow, and\nsomething was fastened to his ear. When he gazed into the reflecting\nmoon, he saw a huge, solitary _Starliman_ swirling green fire from\nhis left ear-lobe. The picture of a ruthless, interplanetary fop was\nsuperbly complete. Only a Neuro-Graph machine could possibly have\nrevealed his identity now.\nJulian went over to where his former garments lay on the floor, and\nfastened his Power-rapier to the jeweled belt, then extracted the\nvial he had taken from Fermin, taking care that the designer didn't\nsee it, and secreted it on his person. When he straightened up again,\nthe Ganymedean was holding a cloak of rich _ocelandian_ fur which\nJulian threw about his shoulders. The artist gazed at him for a brief\ninstant, with something like a smile in its brilliant eyes--all that\ncould be seen of his masked face. Then as silently as he had come, he\nliterally walked into a section of the panelling which gave way before\nhim and disappeared in the endless labyrinth that was the Paradisiac.\nThe door of the circular room opened soundlessly. Julian's hand flew\nto the electro-beam under his arm-pit, but no one came. It was a mute\ninvitation to depart.\nThe long corridor led him to the balcony overhanging the Public Rooms.\nBelow him was a hall so vast, built on a scale so great, that it\nimparted a feeling of limitless distances, yet he knew this was an\nillusion. To his right, a crysto-plast conveyor spiralled down in a\nswirl of imprisoned waters, foaming like a rushing stream, while at the\nbottom, freed by the deliberately lessened gravity, the worst and best\nfrom all the inhabited worlds sat at individual platforms or revolved\nlazily in the upper levels. The enchantment of fantastic harmonies wove\na subtle spell of desire and nameless longings. But although he felt\nthe magic of the extravagantly honeyed chords, Julian reminded himself\nthat was not there to propitiate the eternal caprice of the flesh.\n    _\"Within my heart, all ecstasy,\n    Within my eyes, all visions dwell.\n    Life--Death, I turn to rhapsody--\n    I am the deathless Philomel.\"_\n              TERRA--20th Century.\nHe swept the assemblage with a glance. Purposely he had stood for\nseconds in full view. A perfect fop--as frivolous, as dangerous as\nanything the Paradisiac harbored. The ultimate in elegance.\nJulian stepped on the conveyor and had the illusion of being borne\nalong on a cataract of foam to where an immaculately garbed Ganymedean\nbowed and led the way to a secluded platform embowered in the\ngeometrical interlacings of frost crystals. The panel in the table's\ncenter instantly suffused with softest light as he sat down, and a note\nlike the echo of a forgotten song rang subdued.\n\"Venusin ... undiluted!\" Julian ordered laconically.\nMentally he enjoyed in anticipation the exhilarating power of the\ntreacherous drink. It was precisely what a successful adventurer would\nhave ordered there.\nHe waited calmly, conscious that he was the cynosure of many eyes. He\nknew a thousand dramas were being enacted in the sumptuous den, under\nthe masking surface of convention and social intercourse.\nThe place was like a gigantic cup abrim with beauty--so much of it--in\nthe decors, in the music, in the _flesh_, left him cold. A glowing\ncore of contempt burned within him at the overwhelmingly seductive\nweakness it induced. Julian knew he had to be as invulnerable as\nberylo-plast--deaf to all the mellower dictums of the heart. He was\nhere for one single, solitary purpose that was the all-embracing,\nthe tremendous _now_. To meet a bearer of information so secret, so\nprofoundly vital, that its possessor had not dared even transmit it\nin the highly complicated secret code of the _Dekka_. For that he\nhad braved what he now realized was certain death. It was his task\nto receive it, and pass it through channels that would reach the ten\nDekkan patriarchs.\nOnce more, as he had done when he'd paused at the top of the conveyor,\nJulian raised his arm and almost imperceptibly made the secret,\nimmemorable gesture of the Dekka. He was impatient. There was no time.\nDisguise or no disguise, he knew that any minute now, the Paradisiac\nmight erupt like a long-seething volcano. _Why wasn't the person he\nwas to meet here yet?_ Mechanically his fingers groped for the vial he\nhad taken from Fermin, and paused startled as he felt the unmistakable\noutline of something hard beside the shape of the miniature vial. He\ndrew it out slowly, palmed so that no observer could discern it from\neven a short distance. It was a tiny plastic disc bearing the words:\nSUB ROHAN SQUARE. As Julian raised the glass of Venusin to his lips,\nhe swallowed the disc, which he knew would dissolve. _He already had\nmet the informant!_ The thought was almost shocking in its intensity.\nIt could only have been the Ganymedean designer! And yet, the message\nin itself was disappointing. What could there be beneath Rohan Square,\nthe central plaza before the Temple where he'd met Fermin?\nAlready amidst the perfect glamour, the seductive illusions of the\nParadisiac, forces were gathering that no Ganymedean art could dispel,\nand which were far from being illusory.\nNeighboring platforms had drawn increasingly near; implacable eyes,\ndevoid of languor or of drugs, gazed with cold intensity at the\nfrost-trellised bower and its solitary occupant. The lighting effects\nof the Paradisiac had changed, dimmed to an idyllic, translucent\ntwilight, while the music sank to undulations of the B flat tonality\nthat were magical--plucking at the emotions with unerring skill.\nA draft of fragrance--the heady _florestan_ of Ganymede--made Julian\nturn his head. Up the brief stairs of his platform a woman was\nascending calmly. Julian rose, a tiny frown between his eyes. He had\nnot sent for a companion; then he remembered his brief flash of passion\non the conveyor and wondered with startled dismay if these Ganymedeans\nwent so far as to read the most intimate thoughts of their guests! But\nno, it could not be.\nHe shot a clear violet glance of keen appraisal at the girl. She was\na _true_ Mutant. Her utter refinement of features, the classical\nloveliness stamped with intolerable pride were beyond doubt Ganymedean,\nas was the hair, almost crystalline, that fell in shining waves to her\nshoulders. The eyes, an enchanting shade of silvered blue, were smiling\nwith a secret amusement.\n\"Shall one intrude?\" The ghost of a smile parted her lips as she sat\ndown, her priceless gown sweeping the platform with the crystal sheen\nof water. She threw back a shawl as sheer and fantastic as the Veil of\nTanit must have been, with a gesture that only a very beautiful woman\ncan achieve.\n\"Enchanted,\" Julian answered conventionally, but entirely without\nwarmth. He offered her a drink. Maliciously he suggested _Venusin_,\ncertain it would be refused.\nThe girl let her glance rove over the wondrous spectacle on the stage\nthat had emerged from the floor in the center of the hall, and, her\nsmile was an adventure as she replied:\n\"Venusin ... weaver of chimeras ... like all this,\" she waved an\nalabaster hand, \"illusion ... dreams. But even our greatest dreams\n_betrays_ us sometimes. Yes, let it be Venusin!\"\nJulian wondered, straining all his faculties, whether the veiled\nwarning were a prophecy of things to come, or the ironical skating\non thin ice of the enemy itself! And was aware that part of his mind\nkept harping on the loveliness of this cryptic stranger. _What was her\npurpose? Had she penetrated his disguise? Was she there to make sure\nthat under the miracle of art there was some one far more dangerous\nthan a dissipated Martian fop?_ His answer came from her slender,\nfragile hands. _They were twining and untwining like lilies bending\nbefore the wind!_\n\"Let's dance,\" Julian said suddenly with an emotion he would not\nanalyze. He rose and caught her roughly up to him. He saw her eyes go\nexpressionless with surprise, she was stunned a little. And before she\ncould recover, the irresistible power of Julian's arms had borne her\nto the greater anonymity of the dance floor in seconds. One moment\nthe lyric quality of the atmosphere was part of them, and then the\nillusion was shattered as the frost-trellised bower vanished almost\nsimultaneously with their leaving it. Lurid pencils of unleashed power\nimpinged on the crysto-plast table charring it, while the fragile walls\ndisappeared under the barrage. Julian saw a burly Mutant searching for\nhim, atom-blast in hand, while beside him another Dynast, his face\nstamped with the excesses of Vanadol slipped into the pandemonium the\ndance-floor had become.\nWith cold ruthlessness Julian aimed his electro-beam and saw the upper\npart of the Mutant's torso disappear. He saw the other one near the\nconveyor and the \"electro\" flashed again. The beam went through the\ncreature and struck the great conveyor releasing the imprisoned waters.\nAn icy geyser of liquid shot upward, and pandemonium broke loose.\nAll the lights went out and madness stalked the swirling humanity\nthat desperately sought to escape. He was in a maelstrom of fighting,\nshrieking beings and a chaos of noise as tables and chairs crashed.\n\"Let me lead ... my eyes are conditioned to darkness!\" Julian felt a\ntiny hand grasp his arm.\n\"So are mine ... but who....\" He could see dimly a tiny, slender\nfigure, scarcely five feet in height, completely masked. Then he\nremembered the slurred accents of the artist who had achieved his\ndisguise. The Ganymedean already was scurrying toward the same\ndirection in which Julian wanted to go, to the right of where the\nconveyor had been. Icy water already swirled around his ankles, and the\nbabel of sounds had risen to a crescendo of unleashed fear, when Julian\nreached the plastic wall. The Ganymedean was ahead of him, and Julian\nsaw him press a spot in the smooth barrier. A draft of icy air struck\nhis face as an aperture appeared. He dived in.\nThey must have traveled miles before Julian's Ganymedean guide began\nto falter, then stopped. The being had silently ignored every question\nthus far, and twice had asked for silence. Now he turned on a tiny\npencil beam and surveyed their surroundings. It was a cavern, musty and\nicy in temperature; great festoons of dust held together by age-old\ncobwebs hung from the curved ceiling.\nThe Ganymedean went directly to a section of the rocky wall on the\nleft, and searched the crumbling surface minutely with the pencil-beam\nuntil he found what he sought; he made an odd twisting motion with\nfingers pressed to the wall, and a circular section slid inward; beyond\nwas another tunnel ending in a seemingly blank wall.\n\"You will find a metal disk in the exact center of the wall,\" the\nGanymedean explained hurriedly. \"Blast it with your electro-beam.\nIt is the mechanism of a door, the combination to which we do not\npossess. Be prepared to _destroy instantly everything that meets your\neyes_--everything!\" He motioned for Julian to enter the tunnel. \"You\nwill have only seconds to achieve your purpose. And remember, your\nlife's already forfeit, so do not hesitate now!\"\n\"But what _is_ behind that door?\" Julian asked, exasperated. \"I have a\nright to know!\" He laid a detaining hand on the Ganymedean's shoulder.\n\"_I must know!_\"\nBy the spectral radiance of the pencil-beam, the artist eyed Julian\nwith a strange expression in his eyes. \"As you will, Dekkan,\" the\nbeing shrugged his shoulders. \"You will find a laboratory ... if you\nlive to reach it. It is doubly guarded, although even the Dynasty\ndoes not suspect the existence of that door, for it is part of the\nremains of our own subterranean system. Beyond it ...\" the Ganymedean\npaused, \"in that laboratory is stored the blood-plasma of Mutants who\nhave voluntarily submitted to _innoculation with a certain disease_.\nThe resulting modified virus is the _Plague_. It's like a vaccine\nmagnified a thousand times--its victims do not die, they merely become\n_sterile_!\" The Ganymedean turned toward where the corridor curving to\nthe right was lost to view. \"I go that way,\" he said simply. \"My place\nis here.\"\n\"But ... your message on the disc ... you mentioned Rohan Square!\"\nJulian exclaimed. \"If I survive this, how can I....\"\n\"_You are standing beneath Rohan Square, and the Temple, Dekkan!_\"\nAnd that was all. Suddenly he was gone like a wraith that melted into\nthe darkness and the silence, his footsteps muted by the velvet carpet\nof dust. Julian hesitated no longer.\nHe found the metal disc in the wall, and with the \"electro\" at low\npower destroyed the ancient mechanism of the door. As if released\nfrom the bond that for so long had held it, the great section rolled\nback with a crash, carrying away with it a jagged section of plastic\ncovering from its other side. Julian had a vivid glimpse of startled,\nsilver-haired technicians who stared unbelieving at the strange\napparition. In that dazed moment of inaction, Julian acted. _He was\nin!_ The lethal power of the electro-beam in his hand swept like a\nscythe through the group of Mutants. It was ghastly. The blasted sides\nof culture vats poured their viscous contents on the floor. There was\na livid, billowing flare of incandescence as acids were struck. It\nwas a welter of destruction and supernal fire that roared into the\nlaboratory before any of the Mutants had a chance to act. The acrid\nsmoke, the odor of disintegrated flesh was like a heavy pall. Through\nit, galvanized figures could be seen descending a winding staircase\nthat led upward from the subterranean lab. The Guards!\nJulian poured a withering barrage at the plastic staircase, and saw it\ndisintegrate into golden, dancing motes that merged with the advancing\ncurtain of fire. He could hear frantic commands shouted from above as\npower beams crossed and criss-crossed the lab. The raging maelstrom\nwas unbearable now, and Julian retreated toward the tunnel. Almost at\nthe doorway a ponderous section of plastic from the caving ceiling\nstruck him on the left shoulder and fractured his collar bone. He held\nhis left arm at the elbow to support the broken clavicle and sprinted\ndown the tunnel to the corridor. Muffled explosions behind him fed\nthe cataract of fire. He pushed shut the circular section of wall\nand followed as fast as he was able in the direction he had seen the\nGanymedean disappear.\nThe corridor seemed endless. Even his tremendous strength was taxed.\nCharred, the magnificent costume in tatters, his left side a gory\nwelter of blood, he kept on doggedly, on and on, the unnerving fear\nin his heart--not for his life--but that he might not be able to\ntransmit to the _Dekka_ the ghastly solution of their problem. He kept\nforcing his legs, and was amazed when a draft of pure, frigid air smote\nhis feverish face. He found himself by the shores of Ganymede's one\nand only shallow sea. Above him the stars were like freshly washed\ndiamonds; the icy harshness of the wind was like a tonic.\nHe saw a tiny light describe a parabola overhead, and to his mind,\ninconsequentially came the lines from a famous poem:\n    \"_And an errant star falls rapt and free,\n    In the blue cup of the sea...._\"\nAnd then Julian realized it was no star. He followed with a vast\nunbelieving wonder, the tiny light winking on and off. _He knew that\ncode!_ Beyond he saw the tremendous looming shadows he had thought\nto be clouds. For an instant, Time stood still. Julian reeled with a\nsurging wave of relief that was like pain in its intensity. Frantically\nhe worked the wrist transmitter on his useless left arm, while waves\nof nausea rolled over him, receded and rolled again. He would never\nknow how long he stood there, sending that long-repeated, incoherent\nmessage, until his mind spinning down the labyrinth of unconsciousness\nbrought peace....\nIt was a universe later. The blessed peace of _Vanadol_ had vanished\npain. Sulfalixir was cutting through the darkness in his brain like a\nbright sun. Julian opened his eyes and stared ... stared into a face\nthat reminded him of tele-photos that preserved archaic illustrations\nof ancient Saints. It was hallowed in the bright patina of silver hair,\nbut it was no Mutant, a virile aura of power shone in those intensely\nblue eyes.\nThe \"Saint\" smiled; the fact was illumined as if with an inner light.\n\"Peace, Varon! There's no need to speak for we have the information.\nYou gave it to us--piece-meal--I must say.\" He smiled with kindly\nhumor. \"But you gave it. We have synchronized and correlated what you\ntold us in the transmitter before you went to the Paradisiac, and your\nlater message from the shore.\"\n\"_That voice ... that voice!_\" The thought blotted out all else in\nJulian's mind. It could not be, it was incredible, and yet, no one\nelse in his experience had just that tonal quality ... those ironic\novertones....\n\"You probably wondered,\" the \"Saint\" was speaking again, \"when you saw\nour signal, how the Dekkan fleet could be above Ganymede unchallenged.\nLook!\" He activated a telesolidograph standing by the side of Julian's\nbed.\n\"Every inhabited Moon has its fleet here tonight, my son. When we\nflashed them the news you gave us of the laboratory where the _Plague_\ngerms were kept, and of the incredible plan of the Dynasts--the\nMutants, they came on at full power. Enough to blast Ganymede out of\nits orbit! The plan was the most fiendish, the most ingenious weapon of\nwar ever conceived! You must have guessed it of course ... for fifty\nyears they infected our people in slowly increasing numbers, until at\nlast they let loose the Plague.\"\n\"Narda ....\" Julian began as memory agonizingly came back.\n\"That is the name you kept repeating with every other word in your\ndelirium,\" the stranger smiled. \"A Techno-Star, as we found out. She of\ncourse, will be one of the very first to be given the antidote, Varon.\"\n\"Antidote....\" Julian's voice was opaque with wonder, it was as if his\nheart had lurched in his chest.\n\"You brought it,\" the silver-haired stranger replied. \"In the\n_Panagran_ vial you took from the Arch-Mutant. Our scientists\nare already reproducing it. It acts both as an immunizer and an\nantidote. The Mutants had to develop it as a safeguard for the native\nGanymedeans. It was the only way they could be assured of even their\nreluctant loyalty. And the Mutants didn't dare war against the\nGanymedeans--they still possess ancient weapons that the Dynasty\ncould not cope with. I wish we could obtain some of them,\" he sighed\nwistfully. \"What a strangely stubborn race....\"\nBut Julian was scarcely listening, an upsurging volcano of hope had\nset his whole being afire with the immortal, singing flame. Narda ...\nhimself!... He closed his eyes against the tremendous psychic strain.\n\"Once more open war has been averted by a hair's breadth--I'm a little\nbit sorry, in a way, _Serenity_.\"\nJulian opened his eyes startled. \"Serenity? You mean '_Control-Facet_.'\nYou _are_ Astran, aren't you?\"\n\"Of course, my son! _Don't try to tell me what I mean!_\" He smiled\nwith feral delight, then: \"We're going to bomb the temple to its\nfoundations--a mere token, of course. I shall have you carried to the\nobservation tower.... It will be a welcome sight. Will you do us the\nhonor of directing the routine, _Serenity_?\"", "source_dataset": "gutenberg", "source_dataset_detailed": "gutenberg -  The Silver Plague\n"},
{"source_document": "", "creation_year": 1937, "culture": " English\n", "content": "Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online\n                     Keeper of the Deathless Sleep\n            Nardon, the Correlator, had banded together the\n           greatest brains of the Solar System to battle the\n            menace spawned by Saturn--was leading them into\n              the stronghold of the Energasts themselves.\n           [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n         Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n         the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\n_\"We cannot fight,\" Antaran said. \"Not now.... We must be patient a\nwhile longer. Venus still holds the secret of Vulcan base and without\nallotropic metal our fleet would be so much papier mache!\" He fell\nsilent._\n_In the soft, smoky-blue twilight of the great subterranean room\nbeneath the Universarium, Bill Nardon gazed expressionlessly at the\nangular austerity of the Council Leader's face, and remained silent._\n_\"Three more spacers today!\" Antaran sank slowly into the yielding\nfirmness of a priceless crysto-plast chair. \"Disappeared....\" He\npaused. \"Must you have this hellish blue fog, Bill?\" He frowned in\ndistaste. Bill Nardon smiled slowly from where he lay on a great couch\nof alabastrine, utterly relaxed. \"Would you rather have a mountain\nnight, a summer twilight, or dawn?\" His great shoulders shook a little\nwith silent laughter until the mane of dark red hair that hung to his\nshoulders seemed to twinkle with pinpoints of light. He pressed a\nseries of selectors on the back of the couch, and slowly a rosy light\nlike a tardy dawn diffused through the room together with the smell of\nthe sea. \"Don't look so outraged, Antaran; that Spartan conditioning of\nyours is a tragedy!\" The aged Council leader shrugged his shoulders._\n_\"Listen to me!\" Antaran said brusquely. \"Half a hundred thousand men\nand women from six planets cannot be hidden away like so much plunder.\nSooner or later someone is bound to escape and give away the mystery.\nYet months have passed and no trace of them has been found. Correlate\nthat!\"_\n_He sniffed at the marvelously fresh odor of the sea and blinked at the\nrose-gold light of the static dawn as if it weren't a scientific and\nartistic miracle, but something not quite decent._\n_\"The loss in terms of life and treasure is negligible. It's what it\npurports in the long run that's serious. Already Venus has clamped down\non shipments of radio-actives and Mars has declared limited martial\nlaw. No trade with Neptune is possible in the face of their embargo,\nand the European coalition of Terrans and Panadurs have closed their\nworld! The logical development of this psychological state of nerves\n_\"War.\" Bill Nardon said softly, almost in a whisper that died in the\nfaint sea-breeze that eddied about the room. For a long time there\nwas silence, while the \"Correlator\" played with the selectors on the\ncouch unaware of doing so in his profound absorption, and the tardy\ndawn faded into bright daylight which in turn gave way to the perfumed\nmystery of a starry night deep within the mountains and the odor of\npine stole about the room. A ripple of music almost as soft as a sigh\ninvaded the chamber, gathering in volume and poesy of melody like an\nenchanted lullaby to a wonder child or, a woman utterly beloved._\n_When the \"Correlator\" came to, Antaran had gone._\nThe rain's silver curtain had lifted for some time--over an hour\nnow--Bill Nardon mused. The blinding blueness of the skies was\nreflected on the satiny sheen of the platino-plastic structures of the\nspaceport, now glorious in its display of opulence for the benefit of\nthe arriving delegations of five worlds. The Terran display of grandeur\nhad been planned to increase with exquisite skill all the way to the\n_Universarium_.\nWhich in itself was a piece of effrontery, Bill thought with a sardonic\nsmile, considering that with Earth, only six worlds were represented,\nwhich was far from being the Universe. Not to mention that each\nplanet was sovereign, jealously and hypersensitively suspicious of\nthe slightest encroachment upon their rights and domains. Bill was\ncertainly aware of the fact that the word _Universarium_ would be a\ncause for resentment.\nThey were arriving now. Upon the gigantic Ethero-solidograph that\ncovered an entire wall of the spacious room, deep in the bowels of the\n_Universarium_, Bill Nardon could see the great inter-planetary vessels\nemerge from outer space, where both space and time have but a remote\nand relative meaning, and flash like inter-stellar daggers into the\nouter fringe of the stratosphere.\n\"Warships! All of them!\" He mused aloud, while the slightly satirical\nsmile deepened, hovering on his square-cut lips, crinkling the corners\nof the long, strangely colored eyes--almost electric blue.\n\"Warships?\" he mused.\nBill saw them extend lateral fins upon the icy fragility of the upper\nair, much as a bird extends its wings, and come shrieking through the\ntortured air in a mad race to be the first to land upon the expectant\nEarth. In great flawless spirals--beautiful beyond belief--they lost\naltitude, leaving behind a vortex of clouds boiling furiously at their\npassage. Venus was in the lead. Bill Nardon recognized the powerful\ncruiser by its insignia of a serpent biting its tail, fashioned of\n_Josmians_--Venusian pearls. Close behind it was Europa, with the\ninsignia of a blazing Jupiter on its side; Neptune with its emblazoned\nshield of a tiered city, and little Mercury with the royal emblem of\nincandescent Sol. And at the very end, aloof, disdainful, the truly\nmagnificent work of science and art that was the Martian vessel, which\ncharacteristically wore no emblem at all, and seemed to be content to\nbe the last to arrive, so long as it kept from being contaminated by\nclose contact with the races of other worlds than Mars.\nA great swirl of ceremonial music rose from the immense spaceport, the\ncathedral-like architectonics weaving intricate patterns upwards to the\nskies as if to receive in an ocean of melody the arriving delegates.\nBill Nardon sighed, his task was about to begin. With a slight movement\nof his right hand, he touched the controls gleaming on the desk before\nhim, and the scene at the spaceport rushed with vertiginous speed into\nclose focus; still he was not satisfied, but continued to manipulate\nthe Ethero-solidograph controls until the emerging occupants of the\nVenusian ship grew on the screen to life-size. With infinite care he\nstudied and analyzed their faces, their exquisite fragile bodies with\nthe long, membranous wings; noted the almost imperceptible shadow\nof baffled apprehension beneath the mask of imperturbability, and\nfound--nothing. But that was to be expected. After all, of all the\nplanets, Venus was the least warlike, which was fortunate indeed.\nThe tall, rangy Europans, offspring of Terran colonists, with their\nstrange, silver-furred Panadur co-rulers, came next. Bill lingered over\nthe Panadur leader, so strangely human in his four feet of upright,\nslender body, completely furred in gleaming silver fur to the very\nthroat-line, with the delicate triangular face dominated by immense\nberyl eyes. Strange creatures of a world within a world, drawing\ntheir sustenance from the eerie radio-active caverns of their great\nJupiterian satellite. The Neptunians were descendants of Earthmen too,\nbut subtly changed by the awesome environment of their gigantic world.\nThe Mercurians were a problem in themselves. For of all the planets,\ntheirs was a ruthless Matriarchy. The striding, uncompromising Amazons\nthat emerged from that blunt, utilitarian-looking ship, were in\nthemselves a promise of trouble. They gazed around them out of blazing\ndark eyes, and their metallic complexions seemed to flow oddly like\nquicksilver with their movements, as if their features were fluid.\nOnly the eyes, hard, suspicious, expecting the worst, retained their\nunyielding character. When the Martians emerged, tall, tawny-haired,\nwith their immense violet eyes and exaggeratedly narrow waists, that\ncontrasted with their broad shoulders, it occurred to Bill that the\nleast accident would precipitate an holocaust that would end in the\nmost gigantic hecatomb the universe had ever seen. He shuddered to\nthink what would happen if the least delegate were to meet with harm.\nFrom the very beginning, he had protested against this inter-planetary\nmeeting on Terra, and great as his influence was, profound as the\nrespect was in which his unique powers were held, the Council vote had\nbeen against him.\nStill, Bill Nardon could not rid himself of the feeling that this was\na wild goose chase, that nothing would be accomplished by a meeting of\nthe highest dignitaries of the Inter-Planetary League--in short, that\nthe great danger of an _accident_ that was being incurred was not only\nunnecessary--but futile, which was far worse.\nAsprawl in the great hetero-plastic chair, his long legs extended, his\nsuperb torso completely relaxed, he looked as if even his great muscles\nwould never again lift that magnificent body upright. But all the while\nhis unique mind was absorbed in assembling multitudes of details and\nfacts, coordinating and correlating psychological factors and psychic\ncoordinates with the speed of thought into a clear picture which in the\nend proved--absolutely nothing. He was baffled. To the tragic problem\nwhich would soon be under discussion in the stupendous _Universarium_,\nexpressly built for that momentous purpose, he would be able to bring\nprecisely nothing.\nFor once he had failed. And Bill damned the cold efficiency of the\nMaster Neurograph machine that had unerringly summarized his strange\nmental coordinates. For Bill's mind had the peculiar gift of being able\nto grasp a series of basic facts and from them deduce with supernal\naccuracy the individual answer to any _human_ problem. What took the\ngreat Philosophers in Psychiatry VI days, and weeks, and even months to\nsolve, Bill Nardon could coordinate and give the correct answer to in\nhours, sometimes minutes.\nThere was nothing mysterious about it. Given enough time, Bill Nardon\ncould have explained in detail how he could solve a particular problem\nin human equations--if he cared to, which he never did--it was merely\na mental ratio of activity in the upper part of his brain, where the\nmost involved and difficult thinking is done, many times greater\nthan that of the normal human brain. To this was added an intensity\nand scope of _awareness_ surpassing any Neurographic records known.\nThe result was the coordination of details, the synchronizing of\nfactors--nay, _nuances_ so tenuous that they were non-existent to even\nthe philosophical minds.\nAs a result, Bill Nardon had been immediately removed from his job as\nan explorer and transferred to Security I, answerable only to the very\nhead of the Supreme Council itself.\nTo him it had been a tragedy. The ecstasy of the vast reaches of\nspace; the illimitable freedom, birthright of explorers, the intimate\ncommunion with the stars had been transmuted into a guarded existence\nas if he were one of the most valuable factors in the security of\nEarth, which unquestionably he was. Every luxury, every whim even, was\nhis to indulge, he could have anything ... literally anything, but\nfreedom!\nAnd now he had failed. In his sardonic mood he was glad that he\nhad been unable to find even a tiny clue. In all that glittering,\nheterogenous assemblage Bill had not found even a slight _nuance_ to\npounce upon. Involuntarily he shook his head, and the dark red mane\nthat fell to his shoulders in the conventional style of the day,\nswirled about his shoulders, again he shook his head as if some almost\nimperceptible irritant were annoying him. And suddenly he sat upright,\nhis eyes narrowed and steel-blue. In his intense absorption in the\nscene on the Ethero-solidograph, the elfin probing of his mind had gone\nunnoticed. A profound surprise mingled with the instant pointing of all\nhis faculties as he became aware. That _anyone_ could penetrate his\nmental defenses was unthinkable!\nEven before his awareness of peril was complete, Bill became a blur of\nmotion that coiled and sprang erect. And the incredible shape that had\nlaunched itself with razor-like talons outspread unerringly for the\nsprawling Terran's throat thudded against iron-hard stomach muscles,\nover which a thin beryllium mesh tunic afforded protection. Almost at\nthe very instant it struck, the creature launched itself again, with\ndemoniacal fury, taloned hands reaching with super-human strength for\nthe bared throat, its taloned feet trying to disembowel the Terran.\nBill fought silently, driving a shattering blow to the open mouth with\nits gleaming fangs, with the other striving to keep it at arm's length.\nBut the thing twisted with a sinuous motion and flung itself to one\nside, then leaped in again, driving like a tiger for the Terran legs,\nas Bill sprang to one side and then dived for the flashing creature.\nBill caught one of its legs and instantly it coiled back upon itself\nand fastened its fanged mouth upon his forearm. Only the invulnerable\nBeryllium mesh saved it from being fanged through; as it was, the awful\npressure of those inhuman teeth was excruciating agony. In desperation\nBill aimed another slashing blow at the maniacal face of the being, and\nsaw it become indistinct with blood; using every ounce of strength at\nhis command, the Earthman slowly forced back the face of the thing and\nwith a convulsive movement shattered its vertebrae. When Bill released\nit, the creature dropped limp on the bloodied translucence of the\nJadite flooring.\nReeling from fatigue, his body a mass of bruises, Bill methodically\nexamined his attacker. It was about four feet tall, humanoid in shape,\neven as to features which were delicate--surprisingly beautiful in\nthe repose of death. It had the face of a very beautiful woman in\nminiature. But there was nothing lovely about the competent taloned\nhands with their cording of steely muscles, or about the oddly shaped\nflexible feet--almost hands in themselves, like that of the now extinct\napes of thousands of years back when Terra had been young. The body\nhad evidently been evolved with a great simplicity of purpose--and,\nstrangest of all, it was sexless!\nAnd this was the thing that had been able to penetrate the defenses\nof his mind, almost succeeding in probing it without Bill being aware\nof it. In coordinating his findings, it occurred to Bill Nardon that\nthis unholy creature was the nearest thing to a _homunculi_ he had ever\nknown! But whence had it come? How correlate such a _mind of power_\nwith such utterly ruthless, coldly calculating ferocity.\nBill shivered a little, and it was not altogether from his recent\nexertions in defense of his life. Stretched upon the exquisite\nwhiteness of the plastic Jadite flooring, there was an infinitely\nappealing beauty to its face in the ultimate sleep, as if it were a\nwelcome repose. The light brown eyes still open mirrored sadness--that\nwas the incredible fact. The mind that had tip-toed the shores of\nhis consciousness with sandals of foam, was still. But Bill Nardon's\nmind recovered from the horror of the unexpected attack, felt even\nmore the icy chill of failure as it sought factors and only found an\nimpenetrable mystery instead.\n\"No planet ... no world known to me,\" and Bill had traveled half a\ngalaxy in his time, \"has spawned this creature. This,\" he paused, his\neyes electric with excitement, \"is a manufactured, an artificially\nevolved being! But who? Not the Martians surely; the Venusians? The\nNeptunians? No, no race in the entire six planets is capable of\ncreating....\" In the very midst of his soliloquy he paused startled.\n\"The Panadurs! Only they with their strange powers could achieve such\na miracle.... But would they? In all the annals of Europa there is\nno clue to the \"Will to Conquer.\" Besides, to the Panadurs life was\nsacred....\" His thoughts swirled feverishly, and, impenetrably, the\nmystery became more and more involved as the glittering assemblage of\ndelegates from other worlds traveled to the great _Universarium_.\nFor a timeless moment of absolute silence, every being present stood\nwith bowed head in reverence to the Absolute. Then they took their\nassigned places around the immense Council table grimly. The crisis was\nat hand.\nWhen Bill Nardon entered, he was late, for the preliminaries, the usual\ndiplomatic fencing and jockeying for favorable positions was over. The\nsmouldering resentment of six belligerent worlds was frankly in the\nopen.\nAntaran, Head of the Supreme Council of Terra, presided at the head of\nthe table--there had been no difficulty about that--as was his due as\nHost; but Venus and Mars had been diplomatically seated at his right\nand left, respectively, facing each other and with equal honors, where\nthey could glare at each to their hearts' content. Neptune had been\ngiven the other end of the table facing Antaran, and to his right the\nAmazonian leader from Mercury. The balance of the delegates had been\nscattered around the council table interspersed cleverly with members\nof Terra's Council.\nBill saw instantly Antaran's anxious frown as he entered and caught the\nhalf-annoyed, half-anxious query at his lateness, telepathed in their\nsecret code. He merely signalled, \"Wait, Antaran!\" and proceeded to\nstand behind the Terran Leader's chair as unobtrusively as possible.\nBut it _had_ been an entrance! His stately height of six feet five\ninches, in the close fitting tunic of beryllium, the dark red mane\nof wavy hair falling to his shoulders, allied to the lateness of his\ncoming, gave him an importance in the eyes of the visiting delegates\nwhich, just now, he would have liked to avoid.\nBut when Antaran arose, all eyes centered coldly upon the Council\nLeader. A sensuous fragrance of Venusian Jasmines wafted like an\ninvisible presence as the Martian Leader insolently applied a gossamer\nhandkerchief to his nostrils in defense of the odors of the other\nraces, and the tiny, winged Venusian ambassador glared with scorn.\nThe Amazonian being from Mercury clanked her power-rapier uneasily,\nwhile the tall Neptunian unconsciously touched his belt. Above them,\nthe cathedral-like dome of the tremendous Hall of Planets rose until\nthe graduating hues of its intricately carved Sapphirine plastic walls\npaled from translucent sapphire to aquamarine, to beryl to palest\nmauve, and then only the sheerest rose-gold or diffused sunlight where\nthe intricate interlacing of arches was like a cob-web pattern in the\ndistance.\n\"We are gathered here,\" Antaran began without preamble in his terse,\nicy voice, \"to discuss a problem that threatens....\" He paused as if\nnot willing to voice the ghastly thought, \"to plunge our Universe into\nsuicidal strife, and engulf the magnificent fruits of inter-planetary\ncivilization.\"\nBill Nardon while engaged in appraising the reactions of those\npresent, couldn't help being amused with part of his mind at the Terran\nLeader's purple periods. \"Dearly loves speeches!\" He exclaimed mentally\nin the curious mental short-hand with which he was wont to soliloquize.\n\"Ship after inter-planetary ship has disappeared without trace\nsomewhere in transit between the inner and outer planets.... That is,\"\nhe amended, \"the known outer planets which include uninhabited Jupiter\nand its uncolonized Moons, the great centers of civilization--Europa\nand Neptune. I cannot speak for Uranus which has only been partly\nexplored, and those two unknown quantities, Pluto and especially\nSaturn, that planet of maddening contradictions on which no space\nvessel has been able to land. Thousands upon thousands of passengers,\ncolonists of all races, and untold treasure has vanished into thin air,\nwithout trace. I submit,\" Antaran drew himself to his full skeletal\nheight of over six feet, thin to the point of emaciation and austere\nin all the dignity of his two hundred years, \"I submit that Terra is\nblameless--that the infamy of this outrage is surpassed only by the\nmystery of the purpose behind it all!\" He stood grim and silent, with\nfolded arms, his translucent gray eyes searching the faces before him.\nAnd pandemonium broke loose! The Martian exquisite forgot his affected\nsnobbishness and his perfumed handkerchief, and was shouting:\n\"The floor! Grant me the floor!\"\nWhile the blazing eyed virago from Mercury unceremoniously shoved the\ntall Neptunian aside and was bellowing in stentorian tones:\n\"I take the floor, Terran! I take the floor!\"\nOddly enough, it was the tiny Panadur from Europa who eventually got\nit. He had leaped upon the Council table and stood immobile, sending\npowerful telepathic vibrations in utter silence, for his race was\nvoiceless. Before the incredible power of that involved mind, the\nTerrans, the surpassingly telepathic Venusians, even the Martians gave\nway. Only the Mercurian creature bellowed still, until Antaran granted\nthe floor to the Panadur. And the telepathic flood poured out. The\nbeing from Europa accounted for his world in no uncertain terms. To\nthem life was sacred, and the last thing in the Universe they wanted\nwas strife!\nPlanet after planet laid their cards on the table. Even Mars, for all\ntheir supercilious affectation, made a categorical denial. And as the\nmystery deepened, mutual suspicion flamed higher and higher. It was\nVenus that finally gave voice to what was in all their minds.\n\"After all, treasure is replaceable, great as the loss may be. But at\nleast a dozen inter-planetary spacers built of the invulnerable metal\nfrom Vulcan have disappeared! A few more of such Venusian ships, and\nwhatever planet is responsible will have a respectable fleet of the\nmost deadly ships of space known to our Universe! Our inter-planetary\ntreaty with Mars and Terra and Mercury gave us undisputed and undivined\nsovereignty over Vulcan Base and the invulnerable metal of its mines,\nbecause having in our grasp the conquest of Terra and Mars, we kept the\npeace! Now, after ages of adhering to the treaty, we are faced with\nvirtual attack. We demand a solution!\"\nIt was then that Bill decided it was high time to intervene. With a\ngesture he signalled to the outer arch of the Hall of Planets, while\nsimultaneously he requested the floor. Antaran granted the request\nwhile a slight frown of puzzlement crinkled the pale, parchment-like\nbrow crowned with snowy hair. And into the silent Hall came two\nordine-plastic robots bearing between them a plastic box. They laid it\non the floor, before the Council table and as silently withdrew. All\neyes were centered on the plastic box, and the _personal_ vibrations of\nthe delegates were overpowering, as Bill strode calmly towards the box\nand wordlessly opened the lid.\nWith one effortless gesture he lifted the inert and stiffening form of\nthe _homunculi_ that had attacked him, and flung it into the center\nof the table. Even as they arose in amazement, he swept them with a\nbright, electric blue glare and with the unsuspected force of his\ntremendous mind-power he gave them a faithful, telephathic picture\nof what had occurred. They all saw it. The battle to the death; the\ncreature's probing of his mind--_All!_\nAnd there was no doubt as to its authenticity, the proof was before\ntheir eyes, and no mind--not even Bill Nardon's--could possible fake\nsuch a harrowing experience and bring before them the _corpus delicti_,\nnot even through telekinesis!\n\"That,\" Bill Nardon telepathed succinctly, \"is a definite clue. I do\nnot know of any race in our inter-planetary League able to _create_\nsuch a creature. I only have a suggestion to make. Once I was an\nexplorer. I can be one again. Ordinary minds cannot cope with this\nproblem. Terra will have to risk me if a solution to this mystery\nis to be achieved. I suggest a suicide expedition. If Mars, Venus,\nNeptune, Mercury and Europa will join Terra in sending a group of their\nbest, their keenest minds, and their highest trained inter-planetary\nexplorers, we may have a chance to relay back to the inhabited planets\nwhatever we discover.\n\"I said _suicide_ expedition--I meant just that. A single cruiser,\narmed by the combined science of all planets. Let Venus provide\nVulcanite, because it's invulnerable; the atomic engines supplied by\nTerra--those are details. Every Ethero-Magnum Station between the inner\nand outer planets to be constantly on the alert--as far as Neptune!\"\nHis narrowed eyes swept them briefly, noting the instant negative\nreaction from the Venusian at the mention of Vulcanite. Suspicion\nlingered. Doubts rooted on a million incidents of the past--intrigues\nso involved as to drive a mind mad. Injustices. The last fratricidal\nwar that had set their Universe aflame.\nThe stately Martian had recovered his aplomb; the wisp of handkerchief\nhe pressed to his nostrils as he eyed the inert creature asprawl on the\ntable diffused a breath of fragrance, cool as a mountain breeze. He\ngestured toward it fastidiously, his violet eyes inscrutable.\n\"That ... _homunculi_, or android ... nothing mysterious about it.\nSuperb biosynthesis, I grant you, but Terra _could_ produce it!\" The\nlast words were like a stab.\n\"And so _could_ Mars,\" the Venusian said wearily in instant\ncontradiction. \"The point it, what could anyone of us hope to gain by\nwar?\" The word was out at last. The chill atmosphere of horror the\nappearance of the _homunculi_ had inspired, became icy, seemed to\nseep like the breath of death through the lofty Hall. In the silent\npause their faces were like masks as the tiny Venusian eyed them with a\nsardonic glance. \"Power, perhaps?\" He continued. \"No one planet wears\nthe crown of empire--no one ever will as long as Venus holds Vulcan!\"\nHe said it softly, but with a Universe of power in his voice.\nThe sloe-eyed Amazon from Mercury stirred uneasily, and the Neptunian\ndelegate seemed uncertain as to the next move. In silence, Bill Nardon\nwaited patiently.\nA swift glance of intelligence flashed between the rangy Europan\nEarthman and his inseparable Panadur companion. And then the latter\nrose. He held up a silver-furred arm perfectly moulded, and gestured\nwith his oddly human but thumbless hand.\n\"This being could have easily traveled by spacer from whence it\ncame--as easily as we did!\" The Panadur telepathed. \"A small ship would\nbe practically indetectable; besides, in view of our coming, even if\nseen it would have been taken for one of our ships. It occurs to me\nthat this being may not have been created by another race, but _is in\nitself_ the very danger we have to face!\"\n\"No!\" Bill Nardon exclaimed with utter conviction. \"I caught it\nexploring my mind. In the instant that I contacted his, I _knew_ it was\nnot independent ... it was _directed_. Three things only have I been\nunable to solve: It brought no weapons save its own murderous powers;\nit was purposely directed at me as if to destroy the only 'Correlating'\nmind in our League. And, most mysterious of all--in death, an ineffable\nsadness overlays its features, where the expression of bestial lust to\nkill should have been frozen in death.\" As Bill finished, the Martian\ndelegate stood up:\n\"I suppose my Government would be willing to release the Multi-Energon\nScreen for this expedition--retaining its secret, of course--provided,\"\nhe flared, \"provided Venus releases the necessary Vulcanite for the\nhull!\" They glared at each other from both sides of the Council Table\nin ominous silence.\nThe Panadur gazed at them with evident scorn. \"Europa,\" he telepathed\nwith a curious sort of sardonic benignity, \"would be quite willing\nto supply radiant energy bombs!\" The nearest thing to a smile seemed\nto flit over his delicate features, as he noted their reaction to the\ndreaded reminder.\n\"And we will furnish plastics such as your worlds have never seen!\" The\nman from Neptune spoke at last. The Amazon merely clanked her awful\n_Power-rapier_ significantly.\n\"No strikes yet!\" Bill Nardon said softly, his eyes glued to the\nElectronoscope. \"Sense anything, Freml?\"\n\"Only an outflow of thought-energy ... infinitely distant.... I\ndon't quite know, Nardon. It's voiceless ... patternless, to me at\nleast.\" The Panadur leader sounded uncertain. Even to his stupendous\nmind-power, the voiceless susurration, alive, malignant, was a tenuous\nthing sensed more than felt, directionless, part of the vast, galactic\nnight that engulfed the _bait ship_ in blackness so velvety it was\nlike smothering charred ash. The gigantic super-spacer in the building\nof which six planets had tried to outdo each other, knifed through\nthe impalpable vibrations in its endless flight. Back of it, a tiny\nsmouldering disk, like a glowing ruby-brooch, nearly three-quarters of\na billion miles away, was the sun.\nAhead, Saturn was slowly coming into position, and the great wings of\nlight that were its rings shone with the glory of an eternal rainbow,\npaling the immense crystalline jewel that was Pluto.\nThe tension within the spacer mounted perceptibly. Yet interminably\nthe hours dragged on and on. All screens were down, save those for\nmeteorite protection, as if deliberately inviting an attack. Every\nmember of the heterogeneous crew knew their assigned tasks so that\nmechanically they would spring to their stations at the least warning.\nSaturn grew immense, glorious beyond belief, until Bill Nardon was\nforced from the Electronoscope by the intolerable light. It was then\nthat some one laughed. Rather, it was a cachinnation sounding eerily in\ntheir midst.\nAbruptly, Bill Nardon tensed, his preternatural faculties alert.\nHe swung slowly from the eye piece of the 'scope and faced the\nemissaries--scientists-explorers all, of the six planets. It was the\nNeptunian who had laughed. He was shaking silently now, as if some\nhidden mirth convulsed him.\n\"We're close to the last planetary outpost,\" he observed, \"and, nothing\nyet! This isn't an expedition, Nardon ... it's a farce! What can you\nexpect to find in Saturn? A frozen waste of solid, glassy hydrogen and\nhelium, an infinite wilderness of 'hot-solid' gases under unimaginable\npressure. You know Saturn has an atmosphere of at least twenty thousand\nmiles in depth!\"\n\"I know nothing of the kind,\" Bill answered evenly, with studied calm.\n\"Saturn has never been properly 'correlated.' Liquids and solids don't\ncompress; besides, even if Saturn were as you say a frozen waste with\na temperature of say 180\u00b0 C. below zero, that would still be too hot\nfor hydrogen, which cannot exist as a liquid at that temperature. I\nneedn't mention helium which requires a temperature lower still for\nliquefaction.\"\n\"You're leading us,\" the Neptunian hissed through clenched teeth, \"into\ngales of methane and ammonia roaring around a dead world of frightful\ncold; into a frozen hell where if the atmosphere doesn't crush us,\nwe'll never escape the overwhelming gravitational pull.... You ... you\nfiend.\" The last words were a shriek just as he launched himself in a\ntigerish leap straight for the throat of the Terran \"Correlator.\"\nAnd Bill sprang aside, his left hook instinctively catapulting to\nthe unprotected chin of the Neptunian. But it failed to stop him.\nOff balance, slightly stunned by the blow, the maddened delegate\nfrom Neptune whirled on the Terran, aiming a staggering blow that\nwhizzed past Bill's head with savage force. Off balance, the Neptunian\nstaggered forward, his lean features contorted by bestial rage and the\nlust to kill. He was like a man possessed.\nBill Nardon was icy calm now. The harrowing training all members of the\nExplorer Class had to undergo, had come to the surface, and to the tall\nTerran everything had ceased to exist but the task at hand. He rolled\naside slightly, sending a straight left to the Neptunian's head,\ndriving him off balance again. Bill weaved to and fro, lightly balanced\non his toes as the Neptunian came boring back with terrible tenacity.\nBill's right arm was a peg on which he hung the blows of the man\nfrom Neptune, while lashing like a cobra, his boxer's left, long and\nweaving, stabbed in again and again. The \"Correlator\" didn't want to\nkill the man. For here was another mystery. The attack was absurd, from\nthe standpoint of their aims and goals. But he had no time to correlate\nthe facts and arrive at a decision.\nThe Neptunian rushed murderously eager, and Bill let his heels\ntouch the floor, refused to give way. He took a staggering blow to\nthe midriff, and went pale from pain, but with the swiftness of a\nstriking _Calamar_, he countered with a vicious left to the face and\na slashing right cross. The Neptunian staggered uttering a hoarse cry\nas his features seemed to run like the quicksilver face of the Amazon\nfrom Mercury. He staggered and fell to the blood-spattered ordine\nplastic floor of the cruiser. Bill stood heaving, only now the answer\nwas apparent to him, but again his thoughts were cut short, for the\nNeptunian was far from through. Into the ghastly face, a new expression\nof diabolical fury had appeared, and as he lurched to his feet, his\nright hand clawed at his belt for a weapon. Only power-rapiers had been\nallowed them individually until a landing was effected, and it was\nfortunate, for as the clawing fingers closed about the rapier's hilt,\nan unholy light came into the Neptunian's eyes.\nBill heard a thunderous battle-cry as a bulky shape sprang between him\nand the Neptunian, but he swept his rescuer aside. It was the Amazon,\nher own power-rapier drawn for battle.\n\"No interference!\" he exclaimed in a voice as cold as outer space. His\nown blade was in his hand now, the flexible Columbium-steel activated\nby the dreadful electronic fire. The touch of that blade disintegrated\nflesh and bone and metal even. They were face to face now, confronting\neach other with the wary savagery of Venusian Ocelandians. The smell of\ndeath was in the air, and too, the wordless, tremendous, inarticulate\nvibration from an unknown source that seemed to hint at inconceivable\nhorror, and ebbed and flowed about them. They could all sense it now,\nas it increased as if in a crescendo of triumph.\nAnd at that instant the Neptunian struck. One moment they were circling\nfor an opening, their ghastly weapons ready, and the next the singing\nblades met in midair as Bill Nardon parried the slashing blow. And\nthen reason tottered as time stood still. Where the blades had been a\nflaring vortex of unendurable blue light sprang between them like a\nhellish fan of electronic fury opening before their eyes.\nThe Neptunian's blade had disappeared, consumed in the incredible\nholocaust; only the neutralized hilt of Vulcanite remained in his\npalsied hand as they reeled aside, blinded and unnerved. Bill's blade\nswished through the air as he reversed it and struck the Neptunian on\nthe left temple with the Vulcanite hilt. The man's knees went rubbery\nand without a sound he slumped to the floor.\n\"The screen ... throw on the Multi-Energon screen!\" Bill bellowed.\n\"This man was being _directed_, someone else may be next!\" The powerful\nhum of the inner screen within the cruiser, that rendered everything\nwithin impervious to every known power, arose in the brief silence. And\nnone too soon. Suddenly the cruiser lurched, and trembled like a great\nwounded stallion.\nBill had a confused picture of the addled members of several planets\nclinging to ultra-mullioned gravity seats as the ship began to spin.\nEvery possible aid of science had been lavished on the cruiser, even\nto the most exacting provisions against physical injury, or the danger\nfrom an unexpected crash-landing in some far off world. But even their\ncombined science, great as it was, had not foreseen the unpredictable\nenough to counteract this blow.\nAs if a cosmic hand had grasped the hurtling, spinning ship, it\ndescribed an orbital parabola, flashing like a living thing through\nspace, and headed at an unimaginable acceleration directly into the\nphantasmal light of the great winged world. Bill's dazzled eyes saw\nthe tiny Panadur fight to strap himself to the acceleration seat on\nwhich he perched, while frantically he strove to retain consciousness.\nEverything seemed ringed with prismatic rainbows from the awful glare\nof the electronic flash, as Bill resolutely set his conscious and\nsub-conscious mind in alignment to fight off oblivion. But nothing\nhuman could withstand consciously the orbital fall of the great ship,\nas it dived into the fathomless abyss of night in a concentric spiral\nthat narrowed tighter and tighter, wheeling in direct ratio with the\nrotation of the mammoth planet, at which it was aimed like the spear of\na cosmic angel.\nBill's last comforting thought was the Multi-Energon screen. Nothing,\nhis superb mind conceived, could possibly penetrate that. A crash was\nimminent, he knew, but against that they were prepared. He tried to\ncontact whatever it was that had sent the polyglot vibrations and had\nmanaged to grip the Neptunian's brain, and only a confused disorder,\nas of many minds abandoning their temporary union came to him, and\nthen ... the profound illimitable darkness of complete oblivion.\nNone aboard saw the fantastic scene as the cruiser neared Saturn and\nwas trapped by the hungry pull of the planet. None witnessed the\nmacabre sight of stupendous mountains rising to impale them as they\nstruck its atmosphere. Uncannily, the cruiser began to decelerate\nas the robot control went into action, activated by the atmospheric\npressure. In a great swinging arc, the super-spacer settled lower and\nlower, until at last, immense lateral fins shot out of its sides, and\nsecondary rockets belched forth, braking the headlong rush.\nBeneath them, a world of light and shadows shimmered under the\nunearthly loveliness of the great rings, as if illumined by a sidereal\ncurrent of glowing jewels. Three of the nine moons were in transit,\nphantasmal in their silent loveliness as they hovered over the parent\nworld. Beneath, the liquid sparkle of an unknown ocean undulated\nsoftly, twinkling with myriad star points as if spangled with stardust.\nAt last the inter-planetary cruiser came to rest, ploughing up\nimmense furrows in the glittering sands of the shore, in a partial\ncrash-landing. The robot controls, magnetically activated to decelerate\nin direct ratio with the proximity of land, had held true. The almost\nincandescent tertiary-outer hull of the ship, began to cool to a dull\nsilvery hue. In the near distance, a glorious city of towering spires\nand prismatic domes, was like a fairy scene on a colossal scale. But\nno fingers of light issued from its towers and domes. No living beings\nissued from its portals to investigate the arrival of these voyagers of\nspace.\nOnly the querulous susurration of the spumeless waves of the great\nshining sea disturbed the eternal silence of Saturn. The silence of\na dead world had enveloped the Terran ship, even as within it, the\nunconscious members of its heterogeneous crew were wrapped in the\nsilence of oblivion.\nThe wheeling moons, one blue, one palest amber, and one, the largest\nlike a glowing ruby of the skies, passed on, while time marched on in\nits endless cavalcade.\nBill gasped in a spasm of living torture as consciousness returned in\na flood. Slowly he opened long blue eyes that were tragic with pain,\nand surveyed the inert forms all about him in the great control cabin\nof the ship. To one side, the partly crushed form of the Neptunian\ndelegate sprawled abnormally twisted. Bill knew instantly the man was\ndead, and a flicker of sorrow touched his eyes. There had been no time\nto strap him to an acceleration chair. It was their first casualty. To\nhis right a slight movement betrayed returning life to the Amazonian\nbeing from tiny Mercury. The woman, if she could be termed that, moaned\nunconsciously and then opened her coal black eyes with a stupefied\nlook. They widened as comprehension came. The great cruiser was at\nrest, and through the visiports flooded the jewelled illumination of\nSaturn's rings. An indistinct croak issued from her throat, and was\nechoed by the \"_Ahh_\" of excruciating pain as the fastidious Martian\nalso came to. With an effort, Bill Nardon unstrapped himself and rose\nunsteadily, flexing cramped muscles that shrieked exquisite torture at\nevery movement he made. But he managed to reach the emergency cabinet\nand extract a priceless Neptunian flask of Jadite, jewelled with\nSapphirines. He opened and satisfied himself that it was filled with\n_Sulfalixir_, then ministered to their needs. The miraculous stimulant\nwas like a draught of life-essence to them. Not until then, did he\nascend to the observation dome. The sight that greeted his eyes was to\nremain as long as he lived a memorable experience.\nBehind him trooped the others, to stand in awe at the spectacle before\nthem. \"Saturn!\" Bill Nardon breathed. \"For countless ages unvisited by\nman ... and yet, a habitable world!\" In the distance, the shimmering\ncity glowed with a thousand hues under the illumination of the rings,\nsilent, aloof.\n\"Cut multiple screen briefly and obtain atmospheric samples,\" Bill\nNardon broke the spell. \"I'll want everyone wearing Energon helmets for\nthe interval while the screen's off.\"\nHe gestured to the assembled scientists, coldly efficient. The\nbreathless moment of matchless thrill was over. The winged Venusian\nleft immediately on his way to the Geology lab, while the Martian\nfollowed to make atmospheric tests. The Neptunian scientist in charge\nof chemistry was dead, so Bill sent a Terran subordinate in his stead.\nAt last only the Panadur whose task was psycho-synthesis due to his\nabnormal telepathic sensitiveness remained with Bill, who besides being\nCommander, had the arduous task of correlating findings.\n\"We've landed _alive_! That is the incredible fact,\" the Panadur\nflashed. \"And now that we're here, it seems our enemy--whatever it is,\nhas changed its plans. At least, I sense no peril.\"\n\"Here,\" Bill replied mentally, handing the silvery creature a flexible\ncrysto-plast helmet powered by the Energon principle, \"Don your helmet.\nThe screen is being cut, and we can't risk any more _seizures_.\" He\npaused while he adjusted his own helmet, then went on: \"If we are\nalive, we have the multiple-energon screen to thank,\" he said slowly.\n\"Whatever seized us in space meant to end our journey right then and\nthere. Remember the man from Neptune!\"\n\"That city is human ... I sense it!\" The Panadur telepathed, as the\nimpenetrable barrier of the screen was cut off. \"Odd, the vibration\nis low, almost imperceptible, where it should be tremendous if it's\ninhabited!\"\n\"We're plagued by mysteries!\" Bill replied exasperated. \"Well, next\nthing's to vibrate the news to Europa and Neptune via Astro-Magnum....\nHope it hasn't been damaged--no Ethero-Magnum could bridge the distance\nto the nearest planets!\"\nBut Freml, the Panadur, wasn't listening even with part of his mind;\nthe great shining city in the near distance seemed to have a hypnotic\nfascination for him. Slowly he took off the Energon screen helmet,\nand seemed to concentrate its mental power into its highest apex of\nultra-sensitivity. At last it turned its glaucous beryl eyes on Bill\nNardon, shining with a great excitement, and poured a telepathic stream:\n\"There is life in that city ... an ocean of life! But it's not\nactive ... it's dormant, submerged ... helpless!\" The Panadur seemed to\ngrope for qualifying adjectives; impatiently it went on: \"But _there is\none_ that is not dormant, and it is a mind of power!\"\nInto their midst the Martian scientist raced with a wild look in his\neyes.\n\"The atmosphere ... Commander ... it can't be! It's a hydrogen, oxygen\ncompound stabilized by an unknown gas that has properties of living\nenergy ... there's nothing like it in our known universe ... it's like\na sentient thing!\"\n\"Is it breathable?\" Bill's laconic query.\n\"Yes, exhilarating even ... but I have yet to test for secondary\nmetabolic effects.... I ... for once in my existence I was too excited\nto complete the tests!\" The Martian scientist was abashed. \"It has one\nremarkable property, though, its vibratory conductivity exceeds that of\nwater many times, not to speak of air.\"\n\"That will aid us in sending by Astro-Magnum,\" Bill thought instantly,\nand their attuned minds received the message. \"Astro-radio will receive\nan impetus in its passage through this atmosphere we had not counted\non!\"\nAnd something else they had not counted on was advancing toward them\nlike a vast curtain of scintillating light. It was Bill who saw it\nfirst, covering half of the vast horizon, terrible in the unearthly\nbeauty of its swirling vortices of prismatic stars.\nIn a prodigious leap Bill Nardon was at the conveyor that slid\nnoiselessly into the control room, in those few dreadful seconds, it\nseemed to him he would never have time to reach the control board as\nhe raced with extinction. When his hand closed over the switch that\nactivated the outer Multi-Energon Screen, a wave of nausea swept him\nfrom the intensity of the reaction.\nAnd without warning the starry swarm struck. Like billions of miniature\nstars exploding, the ship was enveloped in coruscating flame, lurid,\nunbearable in the dazzling glare of the holocaust, until even\nBill Nardon doubted if the mathematically perfect Energon Screen\nproviding an infinite overlapping series, would hold. Beneath was the\ninvulnerable hull of Vulcanite, he knew. But would even Vulcanite be\nimpervious to this bombardment once the screen gave way?\n\"All scientists at emergency stations!\" He barked as he telepathed at\nthe same time. \"Battle crews man all weapons and hold fire pending\norders. Everyone wear helmets!\"\nHe, himself took over the Electro-Flash, Neptune's gift to the\nExpedition. In a way, it was the ultimate weapon, disrupting as it did\nthe very electronic balances of organic and inorganic matter.\nAnd then, as abruptly as it had come, the terrible grandeur of the\nliving curtain was withdrawn, receding into the far distance like a\nvast nebula of microscopic stars.\nBill shook himself. This must be telekinesis, a nightmare instilled\ninto their minds, it couldn't be real! But the white-faced Venusian\nthat fluttered in, flashing incoherent messages as he tried to\ntelepath, dispelled that thought.\n\"Commander ... I have checked the graph of power intake of automatic\nabsorber P-6, set to absorb cosmic rays for auxiliary power.... I....\"\nHe passed a tiny, weary hand over his smooth brow, and his azure wings\nhung limp, \"I can't believe it ... we have more power, _more atomic\npower_ than when we began this trip! It is as if we had tapped an\nincredible source of radio-active energy!\"\nSilently, a Terran scientist handed Nardon a developed electro-photo\nof a small segment of the \"curtain\" of fire. Unmistakably outlined\nwere myriad tiny insect bodies, unquestionably composed of some living\nradio-active substance.\n\"The Absolute be praised!\" Bill breathed fervently. \"No known ship--not\neven Vulcanite could possibly withstand a radio-active bombardment\nof such scope!\" He turned slowly to where the Martian scientists\nstood silent in a group. \"I salute you,\" he telepathed gravely.\n\"Your Multi-Energon screen is the greatest defensive weapon in our\nUniverse.\" Embarrassedly, the tall, violet-eyed Martians stirred\nuncomfortably; they had a deep distaste for any emotions and suppressed\nthem ruthlessly. Other findings began to trickle in. The nameless\ninter-stellar spacer that had emerged from the combined ingenuity of\nhalf a dozen worlds, spurred by the ultimate incentive of a brooding\nand catastrophic peril, all the more terrible because it was unknown,\nliterally swarmed with specialists in every known science. It remained\nfor the special mind of Bill Nardon to correlate all the scientific\ndetails and weld them into a final complete knowledge, behind which\nit was his task to find and solve the _primum mobile_--the motivating\nfactor that they sought.\nOne thing emerged beyond the shadow of a doubt. Each attack had\nbeen characterized by a complete absence of a known _presence_. The\nindividual attempt on Bill's life on earth had been carried out by\na creature acting outside its own volition; the magnetic force that\nhad drawn their ship into Saturn itself, likewise was disembodied,\nand now this radio-active swarm that would have consumed them but for\nthe Energon screen--it too gave no clue as to the final, directing\nintelligence behind. And yet, in their very midst, a great scientific\nmind had gone mad.\nThe stalemate was clear. Thus far they had weathered the unimaginable\nbehind their Energon Screen. But they were trapped within just as\neffectively as long as they were unable to emerge. The sum total of\ntheir knowledge resolved itself to a series of bizarre incidents--to\nwhich it might be added the cryptic thought-projection of Freml, the\nPanadur. He had mentioned \"_an ocean of submerged life ... helpless_\"\nhad been his final description. Yet he had also indicated a \"Mind\nof Power\" far from helpless or submerged indeed. And great as it\nmight be, _one single entity_ was, foe or not, worthy of challenge.\nThe incomplete puzzle in Bill Nardon's mind revolved with all the\nmaddening quality of a picture almost discerned, yet eluding the final\ncomposition that would give it recognizable form.\nThe question was, should they correlate all findings and attempt a\nreturn to Earth, and utilize their meager knowledge in preparation of\nsome sort of a defense. Or, take the final risk and visit that silent\ncity whence Freml had drawn vibrations of intelligent life. Bill Nardon\nalready knew what his decision would be. He would call a conference,\nof course, but in his mind the determination to confront whatever that\n'Mind of Power' was--_alone_, had already crystallized.\nAnd in another mind, alien beyond belief, in comparison with his, the\nsame idea had taken root. For Freml, the Panadur, had not told Bill\nNardon all he had obtained in that last mental projection of his. A\ndeep, inhuman horror had traveled the incredibly-faint thought waves.\nSomething ancient beyond calculation, as if the essence of evil itself\nhad come alive, had bridged the gap.\n\"I see no wisdom in risking your life too. For if I perish, my task\nfalls upon your shoulders, Freml. In that emergency, you were selected\nto command the ship ... remember?\"\nVoicelessly the Panadur assented, and continued to patter softly beside\nBill Nardon.\n\"I've brought with me the League's ultimate weapons,\" the red-headed\nTerran continued. \"Electro-flash, power-rapier ... if those were to\nfail, what use would there be in attempting to remain? Thus, I would\nmake a suggestion--return to the spacer in the Z-auxiliary that brought\nus to the city; I'll keep in touch with you through the ethero-radio,\"\nhe lifted his left arm exposing the watch-like instrument on his wrist.\nThe Panadur lifted his great beryl eyes to the tall Terran and\ntelepathed softly, \"You don't expect me to agree to that!\"\n\"No,\" Bill smiled, \"it was the expression of a hope. But tell me this,\nif as I expect, there's strife, what can you hope to add in my favor\nthat would be as important as your being safe in the ship, were I to\ndie?\"\nFreml didn't answer right away. It was not hesitation, Bill knew that,\nbut the Panadur had blanked his mind. There were things they didn't\nimpart whenever they touched on secrets of his race. Then--\n\"A weapon _you_ do not have!\" He seemed to consider the next thought\nbefore he telepathed:\n\"You know my race can store the accumulative power of radiant energy,\nand _direct_ it at will.... It's in the legends ... that's how we saved\nthe first Earthmen who trod Europa.\"\nThey were in the very heart of the silent city now, and the lofty domes\nand exaggerated spires swam in the glaucous dusk that was Saturn's\neternal day. Overhead great stars blazed like flaming roses, and the\nglory of the rings was a spangled ocean of glowing jewels, shimmering\nin patternless rhythms of color. Their sense of reality drained away as\nthe full impact of its dissolving magic gripped their minds.\nAt last they stood before the portals of the great building whose lofty\ntower was the city's dominant note. For here the vibrations had led\nthem, vibrations of life--dormant, helpless--and something else too.\nTheir senses preternaturally alert weapons ready, they exchanged one\nfinal look, then Bill Nardon pushed the great portal before him, and it\nswung silently inwards. And then the great stars, the wheeling moons,\nthe glorious rings that poured down enchantment, were forgotten before\nthe sight that gripped them as they stepped inside. For on an infinite\nseries of tiers that filled the lofty immensity of the room lay inert\nbeings.\nRow upon endless row of creatures that to all appearances could have\nbeen highly evolved Terrans, except for an exaggerated refinement of\nfeatures, an evident fragility of bodies, as if evolved almost to the\nvery brink of decadence. Their marmoreal flesh had the cold whiteness\nof death, and their hair had grown until it spread in great festoons\nof yellow and black and silver grey. A fine, glittering film of dust\noverlay their tunics and flesh, and over all, the impalpable feeling of\ndisaster, of a gigantic tragedy, hung like a pall.\n\"Cataleptic!\" Freml flashed the thought, as he examined the nearest\nbeings. \"A living death!\"\n\"Rather,\" Bill Nardon said slowly, \"a deathless sleep!\" It occurred\nto him that the entire city was thus peopled with sleepers in\noblivion--the ocean of submerged life Freml had sensed.\nUpward through the broad ramps of a now motionless conveyor they\nascended floor after floor, filled to over-flowing with inert\nSaturnians, until at last the conveyor ceased and only the polished\nwalls of some unknown substance of what appeared to be an ascensor,\nremained. Nardon examined it carefully before pressing the colored\ndisk on the side of its closed door. Noiselessly the panel slid\naside revealing a shining quadrangle. Unhesitatingly they entered\nand the door automatically closed. A series of vari-colored disks\nmade a triangular pattern on the left, and Bill pressed the black\none at its apex. It shot upwards swiftly without the slightest jar,\nits incomparable smoothness gave no hint of the extraordinary speed\nsave for the slight, hollow feeling in the pit of their stomachs its\noccupants felt. After a brief interval it stopped, decelerating as\nsmoothly as it had begun, and the sliding door swept aside. And before\nthem opened a great, transparent alcove beyond whose translucent walls\nand ceiling, the colossal theatricalism of the heavens was visible.\nBut Bill Nardon and the Panadur had no eyes for the sidereal spectacle\nabove, two figures in the foreground held their eyes. A girl and what\nwas evidently a man. Two figures, no more. And just now there was not\nthe faintest hint of a belligerent move. Somehow the sight of that girl\nseated immobile with her exquisite hands folded on her lap, and the\nstartling peacefulness of the man at the towering instrument he was\nplaying, had a curious anticlimactic effect on Bill. He had not known\nwhat to expect--but surely, not this!\n\"Beware!\" came the Panadur's warning with unusual force, as they\nadvanced at the ready into the center of the alcove.\nThe man at the instrument ceased playing, and calmly, casually almost,\nleaned over to the silent girl and kissed her softly upon the lips,\nbrushing the flower-like mouth with a fleeting caress. And before their\nuncomprehending eyes, a spectral-blue flash lit the alcove with its\nghastly glare, as their lips met! Instantly, the girl's marvelously\ntinted flesh, like Venusian nacre superimposed on gold, with the\nhighlights gleaming through, _paled_ to the translucent whiteness of\nJadite.\nFor she was golden--her eyes, her hair, the extraordinary lashes that\ngleamed with the age-old patina of ancient gold. Only her cold, remote\nserenity was as if she were enveloped in an invisible icy sheath. There\nwas no hint of feeling, of emotional force even ... until Bill gazed\ninto her eyes and saw the infinite depths of tragedy. As they stood\ntransfixed, she stirred a little and said in a low, magnificent voice:\n\"I am Margalida, the _Aurean_, transmitting for my Lord. If you\nprefer, I shall telepath.\" Her deep contralto was glorious in itself,\nbut she spoke as impersonally, as _neutral_, even, as if she were a\nmechanical instrument, nothing more. And had they known, it could\nnot be otherwise, for her task was to serve only as an instrument of\ntransmission for the telepathic vibrations of the creature at the\ninstrument. Hers was a conquered race, a race sunk in cataleptic\noblivion, and she no longer had a will. Her double usefulness made\nher life secure, for the time being. For the Cinnabarian whom she\ntermed her \"Lord\" in keeping with the custom of his race, chose, to\ncommunicate only through the medium of an enslaved mind. Never, never\ndirectly, so that the telepathic vibrations of alien races had to pass\nthrough the spectrum of the captive brain and be rendered harmless. The\nCinnabarians emitted directly, but received only through the subject\nbeing.\n\"The incredible effrontery of it!\" Bill Nardon flashed to the Panadur.\n\"Has _his_ mind protected against our thoughts, and will only\ncommunicate through this tragic being!\" Bill's lips curled in a grimace\nof contempt, revealing a row of dazzling, even teeth. \"With such a mind\nof power, this ... Vampire of Life Force ... elects to communicate with\nus indirectly only! Maybe he fears he might be contaminated ... the\ncolossal effrontery!\"\n\"_He's absorbing everything we're thinking_,\" Freml thought coldly.\nFor some minutes now, he had been engaged in \"_Brooding_,\" the nearest\nterm Earth had for the Panadur process of concentrating their energy\npotential, raising it to its ultimate power. His exquisite, silvery fur\nwas an angry silver-violet now, and the beryl eyes were brilliant like\nfaceted jewels.\n\"I am Kleg,\" the telepathic vibration came winging from the man, and\neven before the girl transmitted, both Bill and Freml had received\nthe message. \"The divine overlords of _Danae_ have permitted your\ninvasion.... If you and your companions would live, you must place\nyourselves and your vessel at our disposal.\" He was playing again, the\nmusic weaving an unearthly spell in muted minors; it rose and sank\nin a shower of notes that sped like living, winged things under his\ncaressing touch. Only it was an instrument on which no human being\ncould ever hope to play, for Kleg had four flexible arms, and slender,\ntendril-like fingers on his four narrow hands that flashed with\nvertiginous rapidity, as he probed deliberately with the unholy scalpel\nof his satanic music the emotional depths of the Terran and the Panadur.\n\"Rot! Permitted indeed! You dragged us here with some magnetic device.\nTell your vampiric overlords, we acknowledge only One Divinity--the\nAbsolute.\" Bill's eyes were barely open, mere electric-blue lines\nabove his high cheek bones, while in his right hand he held the deadly\nPower-rapier, and an electronic-flash in the other.\nKleg turned slightly from the piano-like instrument, with its three\nseparate keyboards, with a curiously fastidious motion, and on the\nstrange thin face with its knife-like nose and chill, transparent eyes\nthe barest semblance of a smile parted slightly the cruel curve of\nthe faintly outlined lips. He let his four flexible arms with their\nslim hands and long, sensitive thumbs fall from the keyboards of the\ninstrument, and rose to his towering height of over seven feet in one\nsinuous motion of faultless elegance. His exaggerated slenderness made\nBill's superb physique seem primitive--barbaric.\nSuddenly the Cinnabarian's transparent eyes went black and without\nwarning a coruscating lance of living energy shot from his lips.\nBut in the infinitesimal fraction of time, Freml, the Panadur, had\nacted. The awful energy potential he'd been generating in the involved\nprocesses of his being flashed like a thunderbolt of power and met the\nCinnabarian's in mid air. A hellish flare of incandescence blinded\nthem as the universe seemed to explode before their eyes. Reeling\napart with dazzled eyes, they sensed the emergence of a new foe, and\nBill's power rapier wove a vortex of electronic disintegration as he\ntwirled it before himself and the Panadur; after a while, although\ntheir sight was ringed with a myriad rainbows and prismatic rings, they\ncould see several ape-like _homunculi_ at bay, darting before them,\nseeking an opening whence they might reach the Terran and the Panadur.\nThe Cinnabarian stood back, leaning against the immense instrument,\nlimp and deathly white, as if drained of energy, which indeed he was.\nHe eyed the _Aurean_ girl hungrily, but Bill was between him and the\nhelpless slave.\n[Illustration: _Nardon's sword sang in his hand._]\nIn a frenzy of fury, one of the _homunculi_ made a wild leap,\nand impaled itself on the flashing blade. The sickening odor of\ndisintegrating flesh and bone was a stench in their nostrils as the\ncreature fell cloven to the floor.\nBill Nardon was mercilessly using the electro-flash on the taloned\ncreatures now, as they redoubled their efforts to reach them. As\nseveral died, others rushed in, debouching from the ascensor,\nslithering from under the instrument, until the carnage was appalling.\nAt last, Bill's electro-flash went dead. He had no time to recharge,\nbut drew the less efficient and thunderous atomo-pistol from his belt,\nand aiming it at the foremost _homunculi_ pulled the trigger. A starkly\ncurious thing instantly happened even before the last roaring echoes of\nthe discharge had dwindled.\nThe tall Cinnabarian with an involuntary shriek of mortal pain doubled\nover, much like warriors on Terra had doubled up and died when a\ndreadful Radite bomb fell too near and the devastating concussion\nsnuffed out their lives. The vibrations of the atomo-pistol had\nkilled him, although the tall being from outer-space was untouched.\nAnd over the embattled _homunculi's_ faces a curious change came, as\ntheir eyes seemed to go blank, and they stood uncertain, bewildered,\nmaking no effort to attack. With one swift motion of his powerful arm,\nBill gathered the unconscious form of the _Aurean_ girl and retreated\nto the ascensor followed by the Panadur. Unheeded, the ethero-radio\non his wrist flashed red and blue, as the others back in the spacer\ntried to communicate with them. They had heard what had happened in an\nincoherent fashion, but had no way of knowing the story in full.\n\"We've got them now!\" Bill exulted, as he raced down the ramps once\nthey'd left the ascensor. \"We've got them, Freml!\"\n\"Beware!\" the Panadur flashed again. \"They never suspected we of Europa\npossessed _their_ power. I sensed from the moment I saw that kiss, that\nKleg would strike in that fashion--only, he drained himself in his\neagerness to blast us. The next time _they_ will be more careful!\"\n\"The next time I'll do my communicating with electro-cannon!\" Bill\nexclaimed. \"Although just where are the rest of those hellions? What\nKleg was doing alone in the tower's a mystery to me.\"\nThey got into the swift Z-Auxiliary and started the return journey\nto the spacer, under the lambent fires of the titanic rings. And now\nthe _Aurean_ girl trembled and became convulsed on the seat of the\nauxiliary where Bill had placed her. \"They're trying to reach her, no\ndoubt--from wherever they are ... damn them!\" Bill flamed. He took off\nhis own transparent Energon helmet and fastened it on the unconscious\ngirl. He was gratified as the convulsions ceased.\nA measure of color had returned to her wan features and her heart\nwas beating with greater strength. Bill thought of administering the\nrestorative _Sulfalixir_, but he dared not risk removing the Energon\nscreen headpiece. Freml, the Panadur, caught his urgent thoughts,\ndrained of life energy to the point of exhaustion, Margalida might not\nsurvive. And she must live, _she must_! Was Bill's intense thought.\nBehind that alabastrine brow lay the knowledge of a thousand mysteries\nthat must be cleared up.\n\"I will aid her,\" Freml telepathed with a tired sigh. He went close\nto the girl, and his fragile hand stroked her throat, then quietly he\nplaced his face close to the faltering heart and transmitted some of\nthe precious energy that still remained to him. Slowly, imperceptibly\nat first, the exquisite bosom beneath the tunic of a material sheer\nas dim blue fog, began to rise and fall with regularity. Into the\nexquisite face, the delicate nacre hue with gold highlights crept\nslowly. Not until then did Freml rise. \"Danger's past,\" he telepathed\nlaconically. \"Hurry, Bill! I shall need to borrow energy from my\npeople ... soon!\"\nAnd indeed there was a need for haste, for at last the hidden\nenemy had decided to strike in person. All else had failed despite\nmachiavellian plans. This time they meant to stamp out of existence\nthese presumptuous creatures that had blasted one of their kind--an\noverlord. Besides in the unconscious mind of the _Aurean_ girl, their\nhellish secrets lay.\nOut of the foamless waves of the strangely shining sea, immense\niridescent globes floated upwards swiftly, gaining altitude and then\ndeploying into a triangular formation like an inverted pyramid.\nIt was an awesome sight. In a frenzy for foreboding, Bill gave the\nZ-Auxiliary its maximum acceleration. He knew it was a race with\ntime, and time was on the wing. Ahead of them the super-spacer loomed\nglistening in the fantastic light, and short as the distance was, it\nseemed as if they would never make it in the face of that swooping\nformation of menacing globes. Out of the foremost sphere, a lengthening\nfinger of livid fire pointed directly at their tiny, hurtling craft.\nBill Nardon maneuvered in a wide zig-zag then aimed for the yawning\nauxiliary lock of the Spacer, and hurtled within to a jarring, crashing\nstop in the mesh of synchronized magnetic fields that achieved\ndegravitation, arresting mass and speed synchronously. The huge lock\nclanged shut instantly, and with what breath remained in his battered\nbody, Bill Nardon managed to shout into the communication system:\n\"Inner and outer Energon screens ...\" he gasped. \"Man all emergency\nand battle stations.... Prepare to launch, we're going up!\" Blood was\nseeping a scarlet thread out of his ears and nose. Freml, the Panadur,\nwas a limp heap on the auxiliary's floor, as energy drained, the sudden\nacceleration had blanked out even his stupendous mind.\nBill pressed the exit lever of the Auxiliary and got up stiff and\nweary, his body a living ache. And even before he got to the exit,\nNydron was there, inscrutable as usual, product of several races from\nthe wild days of the last inter-planetary war, until it was doubtful\nif he himself knew his antecedents, or his age, for that matter. But\nTerra counted only on achievement--not racial purity. They had at\nlast learned that much, and Nydron's military genius was ... well,\nNydron's. He was bowing slightly now, and behind him Bill discerned\nthe _Juvenals_, who under the direction of a Juvenal Surgeon, repaired\nbodies through a rejuvenating therapy that involved an extremely\ndelicate sub-glandular technique.\nBill waved to them to take charge of Freml and the _Aurean_ girl, and\nwished he himself could afford the luxury of sinking into the ineffably\npeaceful, dreamless sleep which was the first step in the process;\nbut no time for that now. He glanced at the light-copper features of\nNydron, that might be a modified-Martian, with a dash of Mercury thrown\nin.\n\"I see our military expert is ready for all contingencies!\" He strove\nto be light, casual almost. \"Have your forces been instructed, Nydron?\nI mean ... to meet this unexpected attack?\"\n\"All screens are on, Commander. As per your orders we're blasting off\nin seconds. I shall modify strategy and technique according to what\ninformation you may give me.\" The long, lambent green eyes of the man\nwidened briefly illumining the smooth, narrow face which though unlined\ngave the feeling of incredible age. \"As you doubtlessly know, _any_\nenemy has a weak link in the chain--an ... an ...\"\n\"Achilles heel?\" Bill's eyes flicked with humor.\nNydron assented with the barest flicker. Everything about him seemed\noutwardly static, thanks to his amazing economy of movement.\n\"Any luck with the Astro-radio during my absence?\" Bill asked as they\nhurried from the Auxiliary into the control room of the Spacer. If\nthey could only contact even one of the inhabited outer planets!\n\"We've been sending steadily. No response!\" Nydron replied laconically.\nA convulsive tremor shook the titanic spacer, and the shrill ascending\nwhine of the warning signal rose to inaudibility.\nOverhead the inverted pyramid of scintillating globes seemed about to\nengulf the throbbing ship.\n\"Peace, gentlemen!\" Antaran's voice floated cool and sardonic beneath\nthe lofty transepts of the Hall of Planets in the Universarium.\n\"Your charges are ... well, ancient history--almost....\n\"Of course Terra sent part of its fleet following the departure of the\n_Expedition_. But would _you_ have had it otherwise? It was not only a\nmeasure of protection for our most unique mind--Nardon's--but you must\nadmit, protection also for the other occupants of the spacer.\" It was\nexasperating, maddening, that admirable self-possession with a hint of\nlaughter.\n\"How do we know _that_ was the sole purpose of your fleet?\" Flushed,\nhis magnificent tunic dishevelled, the Martian Ambassador asked\nfuriously.\n\"You invite reprisals!\" A Neptunian was saying. \"War Fleets are banned\nfrom space except by unanimous consent--you've broken the law! Or is it\nthat you're scrapping the Treaty already?\" He glared at the Head of the\nTerran Council belligerently, and with the complete approval of half a\ndozen races.\n\"No laws have been broken ... _Gentlemen_.\" He emphasized the term.\n\"You see, we're all party to the deed. Really now, don't tell me you\nwere not aware that Mars, Venus, Neptune ... Mercury even, in fact,\nevery signatory to the Inter-Planetary League made instant preparations\nthe moment the 'Suicide' Spacer blasted off. Why, there wasn't a planet\nbut had its fleet in readiness to follow!\"\nAntaran smiled sweetly into their embarrassed faces.\n\"Admitted,\" the Martian said stiffly, \"but those were merely pardonable\nprecautions!\"\n\"Precautions that became immediate action as soon as our fleet segment\nwas discovered in space!\" Antaran's voice went cold. \"Like a comet\ndragging a lengthening tail, each planet we passed sent out part of its\nfleet, until _all of us_ were represented. Haven't your Governments\nadvised you ... Gentlemen?\"\nSmiling still, although inwardly disgusted at the eternal suspicion\nof the various worlds, he slowly drew an Astrograph from his tunic,\nsilencing them as their suspicious curiosity was aroused.\n\"As I already hinted,\" he said affably, \"I'm afraid all of you are\nslightly behind the times. Let me read you this message from ... _your_\nplanet, Vermil!\" Antaran nodded to the Neptunian Diplomat. \"It's a\nmessage via Ethero-radio sent us copied from the original Astrograph\nNeptune received from outer space:\n\"Combined Fleet reports sighting Spacer enter Saturn's atmosphere.\nMathematics of orbital maneuver computed. Will correlate to attempt\nduplication. Astro-radio messages from Spacer indicate planet\ninhabited.\"\nElectrified, their faces ludicrous, they stood before the white-haired\nleader in silence.\n\"Everyone of our Governments is now aware of this.\" Antaran said in\nkindly tones. \"We've had to maintain the utmost secrecy, for if the\nbillions that people the various worlds had learned what we were up\nagainst, there would have been panics, upheavals ... it would have\nbeen the signal for inimical minds among the '_have-nots_' to attempt\nthe age-old cycle. Remember, Gentlemen ... excepting the Panadurs,\"\nhe gazed with veiled admiration at the Ambassador of that mysterious\nrace, \"none of the rest of us have lost their Will to Battle ...\nwhich perhaps,\" he added as an after-thought, with a sort of brooding\namusement, \"is just as well!\"\nThey were still dazed, as the tremendous implications of Antaran's\nwords filled their minds.\nA new planet had been added to their group. A new world had come into\nbeing. '_Inhabited_,' the Astrograph had read! And it was a fabulous\nworld next in size only to Jupiter and the Sun. It would revolutionize\ntheir economy, possibly add illimitable riches in raw materials and....\nBut their minds were too filled with the staggering prospects to\nvisualize just now the stupefying reality of what it meant to open up\nSaturn.\nAll belligerence was forgotten. Each emissary from the various worlds\nhad withdrawn into his individual shell, lest the thundering ideas that\nswirled in their minds become common property.\nThe eternal game for favored position would begin soon, Antaran knew,\nyet Saturn was still an _unknown_ quantity. Opening a new world was\nfar from being as easy as that. Perhaps all their fleets might never\nreturn, and other expeditions would have to go forth. He sighed a\nlittle. And it occurred to him that perhaps he was getting old.\n\"Hurry them!\" Bill's thoughts crackled at the Martian expert in charge\nof ordnance. \"I want no refinements--give me good, old fashioned\natomo-cannon with the greatest possible concussion. Power them to emit\nshattering volumes of sound upon discharge!\"\nThe Martian's violet eyes widened. \"A complete reversal of all trends,\nCommander!\" he exclaimed mentally. \"But it shall be done immediately.\"\nHe withdrew slightly mystified.\nAn intolerable net of violet fire enveloped the Spacer, as the\nmaneuvering globes enlarged the pyramid to avoid the upward rush of the\ngreat ship. Up, and up the flashing cruiser sped through the screaming\nair, and the enveloping net of rays from the alien globes. And suddenly\nit levelled off and belched its answer. From myriad hidden points, huge\ndark masses catapulted into space, as the spacer instantly rose above\nthem in a burst of acceleration.\nWith frightful accuracy, the ghastly fingers of livid fire that\ncriss-crossed the violet net, swung from the globes to meet this new\nmenace before it could shower among them, and the dark masses exploded\ninto a holocaust of sound that sped through the riven air at the\nfrightful speeds Saturn's atmosphere induced. Like leaves in a great\nwind the fiery globes tossed and whirled, breaking formation. But again\nthey reformed, maintaining the pyramid with mathematical precision, and\nthe ghastly, violet web of intolerable power deepened, intensified\nuntil it was a glowing amethyst hue, and the spears of livid fire\nprobed like cosmic lances at the frantically maneuvering spacer.\n\"The Multi-Energon Screen's a blessing, Commander--how long we shall\nbe able to enjoy it, is the problem,\" Nydron observed drily. \"I'm\nconvinced this is a battle where logistics have no value.\"\nBill Nardon's features went taut. The calmer Nydron appeared, the\ngreater the nature of the crisis. He favored his military expert with\na long, searching glance. Into the pause, the Martian Aide's thoughts\nintruded anxiously:\n\"Surely, the Energon screen's not faltering!\" It was unthinkable.\n\"No, but at the rate it's consuming energy in warding off that\nelectronic barrage, it's but a question of time until we're left with a\nmechanical and mathematically perfect screen dead from lack of power!\"\n\"And, you had in mind, Nydron...?\" Bill was aware the great military\nexpert had something to propose. Only, Nydron's strategy was never\northodox, and quite often overwhelming.\nNydron shrugged his shoulders and inhaled deeply of a pungent Venusian\ncigarette. \"We've reached a stalemate. Those fiends out there,\" he\ngestured towards the Globes, \"can't penetrate our screen, but they can\ndetonate our strato-bombs at will. The question is, which source of\npower will last longer, theirs or ours!\" He paused, and puffed again.\n\"Every soldier knows death's to be expected sooner or later--it's part\nof our creed. But you've brought a shipful of master minds, doubtless\nof irreplaceable value to the Inter-Planetary League. Now, if these\nwere purely a military expedition ...\" He left the rest unsaid.\n\"In that event, what would you do?\" Bill strove to be as patient as\nhe could, for Nydron was allowing only those thoughts he wanted, to\ntrickle through.\n\"Employ the sub-atomic Dispersal Beam to penetrate their defensive\nscreen, pick off individual Globes and launch radiant energy bombs\nas close as possible, and see if that doesn't take care of their ...\nwhat you termed their Achilles Heel. Of course,\" he murmured softly,\n\"that _might hasten our end_, by using up our reserves of power all the\nsooner.\"\n\"Sub-atomic dispersal beam!\" the Martian went stiff. \"Why, that might\nbe an Energon neutralized ... you mean to say that Terra...!\"\n\"Naturally.\" Nydron seemed to be enjoying himself. \"What else could it\nbe? You didn't think Terra was going to remain wholly helpless? Every\npoison has an antidote. However, it has not been tried as yet.\"\nIt was as brilliant and ruthlessly simple a plan, as only Nydron's mind\ncould conceive.\nFrom what Bill Nardon had witnessed in the silent city's tower, he\nhad correlated the Cinnabarian's hyper-sensitivity to vibration. The\nstrange being had died from the concussion of the atomo-pistol. No\nwonder they even filtered mental vibrations through a docile, captive\nmind before they permitted the telepathed messages to reach them.\nBill had demanded atomo-cannon with intensified detonative power, but\nthis--this plan to strip them of their protective screen and spray\nthem with radiant energy bombs which continued to detonate until the\nlast minute spark was released--if it worked, it was the answer to\ntheir problem. The danger was very great, Bill knew. But in seconds he\nweighed the involved factors, and found only one definitive answer. He\ngave it.\n\"Nydron,\" Bill said formally. \"You're in absolute military charge of\nstrategy, answerable to no one--not even to me! Your plan should make\nhistory. Every scientific mind on this ship, is at your disposal if\nneeded. I told you which was their weakest link.... I think you've\nfound the answer. While you give the necessary orders, I'm going to\nvisit the clinic. The Juvenalian treatment should by now permit my\nquestioning the _Aurean_ girl safely. There are a few points not quite\nclear in my mind,\" he smiled. \"It would be a dreadful thing to die and\nnever know the complete answer to this mystery.\"\nBut Nydron was not interested in mysteries. His lambent eyes glowed\nwith inner fires, as he bowed in the ceremonial manner to the\nScientist-in-Chief, who had placed absolute command in his hands.\nIf there were the barest chance of victory, he would seize it. He\nknew that regardless of the outcome, the immortality of his name was\nassured, but if he won, this would be a victory unparalleled in the\nannals of their worlds. \"It is a great honor, Commander,\" he said\nsimply. \"The greatest I have known. The Absolute willing, we shall win!\"\nWithout wasting a single precious second, Nydron began issuing orders,\nsharp, definitive. The Dispersal Beam projectors swung into place,\nand the new radiant energy missiles, contributed by the Panadurs,\ntook the place of the Strato-bombs. Battle-crews awaited tense and\ngrim the initial frightful blast, for neither one nor the other had\nbeen tried before, and the combination of the Dispersal Beam and\nRadiant-energy Bombs was awe inspiring. Meanwhile the spacer maneuvered\nwith vertiginous speed close to the eastern wall of Globes that formed\na side of the quadrilateral, inverted pyramid. And then began the\nweirdest chase witnessed by man. For as the pyramid sought to expand\nto avoid the hurtling ship, the spacer accelerated suddenly and\nfocused twin beams of light that became concentric yellow whorls of\ndisintegrating, radio-active energy. It bathed two globes briefly, and\nsimultaneously, a shower of bombs sped unerringly to their mark.\nThe stupendous concussion rocked even their spacer, as the\nRadiant-energy Bombs burst in a hellish burst of fire that no human\neyes could endure, as if a new sun had been born in the skies. Where\nthe globes had been, nothing remained, and those that had been close\nnearby, and had been touched by the yellow vortex of the beams, were\nspinning, lurching out of control in a headlong dive towards the\nshining sea below.\nA great cry of joy went up within the Terran ship, fierce and terrible,\nas the battle-crews achieved first kill.\nBut instantly the pyramid shifted globes and closed the gap, and the\namethyst-hued net of unimaginable force deepened again until it became\nalmost black. And then a lengthening beam of milky-whiteness shot out\nof the globe at the apex, probing, relentless ... and wherever it\ntouched, gigantic tongues of flame licked upwards along its length, as\nit consumed the screen's energy.\nNydron knew how limitless was the power of that white beam. And too,\nhow close their margin was. From every projector he had the Dispersal\nBeam bathe as many globes as possible, and then the radiant energy\nbombs lashed out.\nSaturn seemed to reel. The pyramid was riven, even as the spacer was\ntossed like a row-boat on a stormy sea. A deafening crescendo of\ntitanic sound flowed over the planet, and coruscating walls of fire\nenveloped space, as if the titanic rings of Saturn had spilled over\ninto the stricken world.\nAnd relentlessly, the emerald-tinged yellow vortex of the beams\ncontinued to be focused on the Cinnabarian globes, while the unbroken\nsalvos of sound went on endlessly until the last fragment of radiant\nenergy was consumed in its own supernal fire, and globes fell like\nshooting stars.\n\"We've never known what galaxy spawned them,\" Margalida, the _Aurean_\ngirl said slowly, in a vibrant contralto that was like the deepest\ntones of a violin. She shuddered as some unnameable horror of the\nCinnabarians flowed through her mind. \"But ultimately it was we who\nunknowingly opened the door to them. They must have been waiting for\naeons to enter our Universe ... only, they didn't quite know how to\nmanipulate the forces necessary to use hyperspace. We did that for\nthem.\" The silence in the Juvenal chamber was almost a tangible thing.\n\"You understand the secrets of hyperspace?\" There was a Universe of awe\nin Bill Nardon's tones. \"Our greatest scientists hardly dare experiment\nwith the principles involved as yet!\"\n\"Not I, of course,\" Margalida gave him a wan smile, \"but our\nscientists ... there are hardly a dozen left, at peace in the deathless\nsleep. According to your time, this happened over a century ago. I had\nnot come into being then, for I was born in slavery under the rule of\nthe _Energasts_.\" She pronounced the strange word conveying a mental\npicture of the four-tentacled overlords.\n\"For centuries my people had listened to the vibrations of your\nAstrographs, faint, almost undecipherable, but as time passed, we\nlearned your languages, your customs, recorded even the ages of warfare\nthat swept your planets like a plague. But we could not reach you--oh,\nwe knew the principles of space flight, but always the gravitational\nbalance of the 'Rings' stopped us; it was a sidereal barrier that\nseemed impossible to surmount. Strange, we achieved the mathematical\nformula for orbital flight simultaneously with the breaching of\nhyperspace. And then it was too late, for in trying to reach you by the\nshortest possible route, we opened the doors on a Universe that ...\nthat....\" But she couldn't go on. The tangible horror of those alien\nbeings who had invaded Saturn overcame her.\nBill Nardon waited until the spasm was over. Then, very gently he\ninquired: \"But with a science so magnificent that you could use\nhyperspace, surely you must have had weapons that would make ours seem\nlike toys?\"\nMargalida shook her exquisite head. \"Weapons! The very memory of such\na thing has been erased from the race consciousness of my people,\nTerran. It would be so utterly unthinkable for us to slay _anything_,\nthat I doubt if I could make you understand how utterly alien to us\nsuch an act would be. For ages and ages no _Aurean_ has taken life ...\nour will--literally--could not function in that direction. We managed\nto close the gap, for as you doubtless know, hyperspace is not exactly\nan energy field, but related to it, and so long as there is matter in\ngaseous state at both terminals of the orifice, a gap can be repaired\nin a very brief time cycle. But already it was too late. Hordes of\n_Energasts_ had rushed through from Cinnabar, slaying, drinking our\nlife-energy in a horrible thirst for the divine fire. Entire cities\nwere left deserted, drained of all life, while every living thing in\nour world came under their power.\n\"Millions fled to the uninhabited parts of the planet, crossing the\nimmense oceans of lava in a molten state that provide the necessary\nheat to maintain life, thinking that perhaps the invaders could not\nfollow. At last, my people made their last stand here, in this valley,\nand built _Sonara_, the city where you found me, and we made a pact\nthat every _Aurean_ would submit to cataleptic sleep at the first sign\nof the _Energasts_.\n\"But even in that they defeated us. They took us by surprise, bridging\nthe lava oceans in their globes, and enslaving all that had no time to\ngo into catalepsis. Only three million remain now--the sleeping ones.\nAll the rest, and the generations that were born to them, perished in\nthe 'Kiss.' I'm one of the conscious few, for the Energasts needed some\nof us for telepathic transmission. Vibration, as you now know, is their\ndeath.\n\"_Down in the depths of that great sea_ they've built their cities,\nwhere preparations for the invasion of your planets has gone on for\nfifty of your years.\"\n\"But couldn't you have made some sort of compromise? Murder on such a\nvast scale seems pointless, even if they're vampires of life!\" Bill\nNardon was puzzled.\n\"Compromise!\" A tragic smile lifted the corners of the carven lips.\n\"Yes, we had our choice--although to us there was no alternative--to\nserve as an invading army to conquer your planets ... or die!\" The\n_Aurean_ girl was silent as if nothing more need be said.\nA vast astonishment held Bill mute, and something akin to a boundless\nadmiration. Here was a people so high in the mental and spiritual\nscale, that rather than offer resistance and kill, had carried passive\nresistance to the ultimate point--to the ultimate oblivion even, of\ncatalepsis!\n\"Would you care to watch the battle?\" Bill Nardon asked softly.\n\"Perhaps it will repay you for the agonies you've undergone. I'm\nsure those four-armed vampires are going to get a taste of their own\nmedicine they're never likely to forget!\"\nA strange light came into the girl's eyes, something like the ghost of\nan incalculable past, but she sighed smiling, and shook the golden head\nthat seemed to be crowned with an aura of light.\nAs Bill stood unwilling to go, held by the glory of the amazing\n_Aurean_ being, the tele-panel in the communications quadrangle glowed\ninto life, and the voice of Nydron himself broke the spell:\n\"Commander, we're about to begin!\" That was all. It was so\ncharacteristic of the man. The screen went blank, and Bill Nardon\npivoted towards the door enroute to the control room.\nThe broad shining sea below was a maelstrom of fury, as if convulsed by\nsubmarine volcanoes, as the spinning globes hurtled into its depths.\nMountainous spouts of the shimmering liquid seemed to be reaching\ntheir descending spacer. Towards the far horizon, the rapidly receding\noutline of a few surviving spheres raced in pell-mell flight. Silence\nreigned, but for the tortured heaving of the lashing waves.\n\"Land as close to the city as possible!\" Bill Nardon directed. \"And,\ncut all screens, we'll need every ounce of power.\" His face was gray,\nfor he needed no experts to tell him what the battle had cost them in\nenergy output. Still, they were alive. Horribly battered and drained\nto the point of exhaustion, but alive ... that was the miracle! But\nnow, he had the horrible feeling of a Commander whose base has been\ndestroyed. Where refuel? Where obtain the precious energy to withstand\nanother assault? Bill knew this was not the end. What Cinnabarians\nstill remained in those fathomless depths would never rest until the\nspacer and all within it was erased from Saturn's face.\nBill thought with a grimace of all those inter-planetary spacers that\nhad vanished without trace. \"Without Energon Screens, without the\ninvulnerable Vulcanite or the Dispersal Beam, they never had the ghost\nof a chance...!\" he exclaimed inwardly, and his long, vise-like hands\nslowly knotted at his sides. Beads of perspiration rolled down his\ncheeks as he concentrated on finding a solution to their problem.\nThe staccato sound of the landing signal swept through the ship as\nthey prepared to make contact. In the near distance the great city\nshone under the illumination of the rings, enveloped in the sepulchral\nsilence of its cataleptic legions.\nBill's eyes widened as the thought slowly evolved into ordered\nprocesses in his mind. \"The _Aureans_....\" Involuntarily he spoke\naloud. \"Hyperspace!\" If he could awaken even one of those remaining\nancients who knew the secret of hyperspace, he might contact Terra, or\none of the inhabited planets. Hope rose like an exultant flame, and he\nhurried to the Juvenal chamber where Margalida recovered.\nAt the doorway of the control room, he almost collided with Freml, the\nPanadur, and it suddenly occurred to Bill he had not seen the silvery\nPsycho-synthetist for some time.\n\"Where have you been? Under the treatment?\" Bill inquired.\n\"Of course not!\" Freml telepathed disdainfully. \"What need have I of\nsuch crude methods? As soon as I awoke I left the chamber ... my people\nsupplied some energy, I needed nothing else. But you're hurrying....\"\n\"To the Juvenal Chamber. We have no time to waste!\" Bill flashed. \"If\nwe can awaken one of those cataleptic _Aurean_ scientists, we may get\nfrom him the necessary equations to use hyperspace, Freml.... It means\nwe can contact our worlds ... obtain aid!\"\n\"Perhaps I can help,\" the Panadur thought slowly. \"It should not be so\ndifficult to bring them back to conscious life.\"\nHe followed Bill into the hushed atmosphere of the Juvenal, his own\nmind strangely blanked as he communicated with the other Panadurs\naboard. It was their way, mysterious, aloof.\nAnd now that the screens were down, the subtle, all-pervading\nvibrations of the Cinnabarians had commenced again.\nThey would have to don Energon helmets, Bill thought wearily. It was\na battle without end. But the sight of Margalida was to him like the\nsight of an eden seen from the bleak monotony of desert wastes. His\nelectric-blue eyes kindled as the girl smiled, a question in her eyes.\nShe extended a fragile hand that might have been carven of Jadite, and\nin the husky voice with the harp-like cadences she said:\n\"I know you've won ... and for the first time in my life, I have been\nglad to know that beings have died!\"\nIt was as near as she could come to exult in the extinction of the\ndreaded _Energasts_.\n\"You're improving!\" Bill's face was illumined by a dazzling smile.\n\"I'm afraid that if you're among us for some time, in the end you'll\nshare our atavistic instincts; even Freml here can blast a hellion\nout of existence when the need arises,\" he said with a bright glance\nto the Panadur. \"However, we need your help, Margalida. We want to\nawaken at least one, more if possible, of the remaining scientists in\nthe deathless sleep. Do you know where they are? Can you direct us to\nthem?\"\n\"Yes,\" she assented gravely. \"They sleep in the second tower, where the\ntraction beams that captured the ships of space for the _Energasts_,\nare located. I will lead you to them.\"\n\"Bring your fellow Panadurs, Freml, we shall need them,\" Bill\ntelepathed. \"This will have to be done with all possible\nprecautions--any moment there may be another attack.\" A little pulse at\nthe base of his throat trembled as he gazed at Margalida.\nThe burning roses that were the stars had paled a little, before all\nthe preparations were completed and they were ready to leave the ship.\nOnly Nydron and his battle-crews, with several of the lesser scientists\nwere to remain, for this might be the only chance they would have to\nwrest the secret from the dormant minds. And then there was Margalida,\nnothing must happen to her. So Bill Nardon left nothing to chance. Even\nthe austere Juvenal surgeon was to go along, and a protective bodyguard\nof Mercurian Amazons, power-rapiers and all--bristling with lethal\nweapons.\nThese last were the most eager of all. Seeing them in their bulky,\nserried ranks, Bill Nardon flashed them a clear, blue glance and\ngrinned. The mental picture of these ruthless creatures tangled in\nmortal combat with the taloned _homunculi_ of the _Energasts_, would\nhave astonished the gods.\nBut all their preparations were in vain, for suddenly the Ethero-Magnum\nscreen began to glow in the control room, as other screens glowed in\nthe stately central cabin, in the Juvenal Chamber, and even upon the\nwalls of the battle-stations so that what one saw, was the property of\nall. The sound of indrawn breaths sounded explosive in the stillness;\nan unbearable tension made the atmosphere electric.\nFor one agonized instant, no one dared to hope--an anticlimax would\nhave been terrible to endurances that had been tested to the breaking\npoint. In this planet of contradictions and alien madness, _anything_\nwas possible.\nOut of the misty darkness of outer space, the streaks of silver that\nwere ships flashed headlong into the monstrous embrace of Saturn,\nwheeling over the planet's outermost gravitational limits, in\nawe-inspiring orbital fall. The strange tug-of-war between the pull\nof the vast rings, and the giant planet itself, must be neutralized.\nSwinging in tremendous arcs to lessen the speed they hadn't dared\ndiminish in space, they came in roaring with all braking rockets\nflaming in great blasts. Behind them, still more silver streaks came\ninto view.\nFor an awful moment it seemed as if the forces against them would\ndefeat the ships. They seemed to hang static in space, as they turned\nthe night of Saturn red with the furious cataracts of rocket fire. And\nthen--\n\"They're going to make it. They are!\" Bill Nardon exulted fiercely.\nThe foremost, a Terran spacer, had cut its rockets and swerved,\npeeling off in a magnificent plunge from dizzying heights into the\natmosphere. Behind it streamed the balance of the Terran Fleet, like\nhounds that had sighted its quarry. And in the nebulous reaches of the\nstratosphere, the swarm that was still more ships flashed, reflecting\nthe splendor of the rings.\nThe lofty screen divided itself into two parts now. One segment showed\nthe Terran ship come coasting down in great, breath-taking spirals,\nfollowed by its sister vessels, while the upper section mirrored the\nout-distanced and far more numerous portion of the immense fleet of\nspacers. They saw the Terran ship level suddenly, and from its bomb\nbays, a shower of black projectiles dropped swiftly toward some target\nthey could not see. It banked in another wide turn and again its deadly\nbombs showered down on the maelstrom the first bombs had caused below.\nAnd then they saw the cause of the unexpected maneuver. An immense\niridescent globe had risen from the shimmering depths of the sea.\nAnother and another rose from the surface like cosmic bubbles rising\nfrom the tossing waves, hurrying to intercept the new invaders before\nthey had a chance to land. The sinister violet haze was rapidly\nreaching out already, like an immense, empurpled amoeba reaching out\nwith hungry tendrils.\nAt a sign from Bill Nardon, the great strategist Nydron was at the\nTele-radio, transmitting orders to the Terran ship that now darted and\nlashed out with its disintegrating rays like a Manthis over a nest of\nrattlesnakes. \"Use your sub-atomic Dispersal Screen, you fools!\" He was\nroaring, \"and then strike ... strike hard with everything you got!\" One\nhand was pounding into the reddened palm of the other.\nThe balance of the fleet was thundering down now, and they saw the\nsudden burst of incandescent lightning that was the Energon screen as\nthe Martian vessels turned their unrivalled protection on, then it\nvanished into invisibility as the screen took hold.\nAnd from the Terran ship, and its sister vessels that had finally\ncaught up, the great yellow beams that turned into vortexes of emerald\ntinged power burst out, bathing the sinister Globes, enveloping them in\ntheir lethal stream. And then, the holocaust began. It seemed as if the\nliquid depths were spawning hundreds and hundreds of the great spheres,\nwhile overhead the sullen skies were black with the flashing vessels of\nthe Inter-Planetary League.\nA great Venusian ship caught in the empurpled fog, described a parabola\nas it plunged out of control and a milky-white beam from the Globes\ncaught it as if on a spear and it plunged headlong into the sea below.\nThe titanic struggle was so appalling that even strong men accustomed\nto the vicissitudes of battle trembled at the sight.\nThere was no quarter now. Extinction of one side or the other was the\nultimate outcome--there could not be any other possible answer, in that\nfantastic hecatomb.\n\"How much power have we?\" Bill Nardon asked quietly, and his eyes,\nshadowed with the knowledge of the awful burden he was about to take\nupon himself, dwelt briefly on the expectant ones of the Military\nStrategist.\n\"Enough for about six hours, if we use the Energon Screen.\" Nydron said\nit quietly and with eagerness that was like an expressed hope. \"I think\nwe can tip the balance ... don't you?\"\nBill glanced for an instant into the screen, where shimmering globes\nand the League's ships were falling into the tossing, exploding chaos\nthat was the sea.\nHe thought of the Martian fleet, protected by the Energon, but\npowerless to neutralize the Cinnabarian defenses without the Terran\nDispersal Beam; of the Venusian ships, helpless in that holocaust,\ndespite their invulnerable Vulcanite Hulls, and, with a catch in his\nthroat, of the gallant Terran vessels, able to draw the fangs from the\nspheres with the Dispersal Beam, but open to the lethal power of those\nhellish white beams of the _Energasts_, because they did not have the\nMulti-Energon. But organized, they could wreak untold havoc on the\nenemy.\n\"Give battle orders; we are going up. The Martians, under the\nprotection of their Energon Screens, to get as close as possible to the\nglobes, ready to hurl their bombs, while the Terran ships behind them,\nscreened by the Martian Fleet, aim their Dispersal Beams to neutralize\ntheir violet power screens. Keep the Venusians and Mercurians as\nreserves--that roughly, should be our strategy, modify it as needed,\nNydron.... We'll lead!\"\nHe gazed up into the flaming clouds where the League's Fleet and the\n_Energasts_ had swept upwards in coruscating swirls of intolerable\nradiance, and then his gaze came to rest on the golden glory of the\n_Aurean_ girl. \"Margalida,\" he said softly, as if there were an\nineffable magic in that name. \"Almond blossom,\" he murmured softly\nto himself, as if in those few, last tragic moments, he would stamp\nforever the imprint of her loveliness in his heart.\nThere was no sound. The tortured atmosphere of the planet regained\na measure of peace. Only the sea remained monstrously convulsed\nas if striving to spew the shattered Globes and spacers now sunk\nbeneath its waves. And on the windswept shore, only a fraction of the\nInter-Planetary League's great ships had come to rest.\nOf the _Energasts_ there was no sign--not a single violet globe\nremained in all that vast expanse, under the blazing glory of the\neternal stars. But the victory had been almost a defeat. Countless\nvessels from all six planets, and still more countless dead would lie\nforever beneath Saturn's shimmering sea. But the relentless fury of the\n_Energasts_ had been stilled.\nAnd yet.... It was not over. The enemy was helpless for a while. He\nmust not be given time to strike again.\nFor beneath those billowing mountains of translucent liquid that seemed\nto be strewn with flashing stars, cities--immense cities filled with\n_Energasts_, what remained of them, had not felt their power as yet.\nThe Absolute only knew what fiendish plans even now were being framed,\nwhile the victors strove to recover a measure of strength, and sanity.\nIn the great central cabin of the spacer, where scientists and experts\nhad collected, to lighten in a measure the awful tension of so many\nhours, Bill Nardon suddenly looked up from the piano--the only real\nluxury he had requested for himself--and said softly as if thinking\naloud:\n\"So many cities lie in ruins ... so many nations have been bombed.\nBut this will be the first time in history that a great sea is bombed\nfrom shore to distant shore, until not a single shard remains of their\nstructures!\"\nHe looked at Nydron.\n\"Eh?\" Nydron seemed to swim up from a great weariness, and became\ntense, alert. \"You mean, we'll project the Dispersal Beam into the\ndepths and systematically bomb mile after mile of sea with radiant\nbombs?\" His eyes were awed. \"It might take years!\"\n\"Precisely,\" Nardon nodded with superlative calm. \"Even if it takes a\ncentury, until not a single _Energast_ remains to pollute Saturn!\" He\nsmiled coldly, and his long, narrow hands evoked a melodious ripple\nfrom the keys.\n\"Among my studies in correlation, are the appraisal of the methods of\nthe Ancients, from immemorial times. There was one Nation, in reality a\ncity, which was periled by the rivalry of another great metropolis. And\nin their war of extinction, one city--Rome, evolved a ghastly slogan\nwhich guided its treatment of its enemy, the slogan was: '_Delenda\nest Cartago!_' And if it takes a century, we shall be able to say,\n'_Delenda est Cinnabar!_' He fell silent, and in the momentary hush,\nhis hands began to weave a mesh of beauty as they hovered over the\npiano keys. It was a magical undulation of the B Flat tonality ... a\ndivine lullaby to a wonderful child--a girl utterly beloved.\nEnd of Project Gutenberg's Keeper of the Deathless Sleep, by Albert dePina", "source_dataset": "gutenberg", "source_dataset_detailed": "gutenberg -  Keeper of the Deathless Sleep\n"},
{"source_document": "", "creation_year": 1937, "culture": " English\n", "content": "Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Kris de Bruijn, Dave Morgan\nand the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at\n               [Illustration: PETER ILYITCH TSCHAIKOWSKY\n              _A drawing of the composer late in life._]\n                       AND HIS ORCHESTRAL MUSIC\n                  [Illustration: Harp and cello logo]\n             The Philharmonic-Symphony Society of New York\n                Printed in the United States of America\nIncluded in this little book are analyses and backgrounds of most of\nTschaikowsky\u2019s standard concert music. A short sketch of Tschaikowsky\u2019s\nlife precedes the section devoted to the orchestral music. Yet,\nthe personal outlook and moods of Russia's great composer are so\ninextricably bound up with his music, that actually the whole booklet\nis an account of his strangely tormented life. In the story of\nTschaikowsky, life and art weave into one closely knit fabric. It is\nhoped that this simple narrative will aid music lovers to glimpse the\ngreat pathos and struggle behind the music of this sad and lonely man.\n                       AND HIS ORCHESTRAL MUSIC\nFew great names in music spell as much magic to the average\nconcert-goer as that of Peter Ilyitch Tschaikowsky. In almost every\nmusical form will be found a work of his ranking high in popularity.\nAnd quite deservedly so. Tschaikowsky\u2019s music brims with a warm\nhumanity and stirring drama. The themes and feelings are easy to\ngrasp. The personal, intimate note is so strong in this music that we\nfind it natural, while listening to the _Pathetic_ symphony or the\n_Nutcracker_ ballet suite, for example, to share Tschaikowsky\u2019s joys\nand sorrows. His music seems to take us into his confidence and show us\nthe secret places of his heart. Although Tschaikowsky\u2019s range of moods\nis wide\u2014from the whimsical play of light fantasy to stormy outcries\nof anguish\u2014essentially he was a melancholy man, in his music as in\nhis life. Perhaps it is the genuineness of his music in conveying great\npathos and suffering that has drawn millions to his symphonies and\nconcertos. A frank sincerity and warmheartedness well from his music.\nThe best of his melodies linger hauntingly in the mind and heart. So\nlong as sincere feeling expressed in sincere artistic form can move the\nhearts of men, Tschaikowsky\u2019s music will continue to hold a high place\nin the concert hall and opera house.\nOnly Beethoven and Mozart can rival Tschaikowsky in the number of\ncompositions in various musical forms that stand out as repertory\nfavorites. Tschaikowsky\u2019s violin concerto is as much a \u201crequest\u201d item\nas Beethoven\u2019s. The _Pathetic_ symphony ranks with the three or four\nenduring favorites of the repertory. Tschaikowsky\u2019s _Nutcracker_ ballet\nis probably the most popular suite of its kind in music. The opera,\n_Eugene Onegin_, a masterpiece worthy to stand beside some of the\nbest Italian and German operas, is widely loved even outside Russia.\nTschaikowsky\u2019s Piano Concerto, or, at any rate, the big opening theme,\nis doubtless known to more people than all other piano concertos put\ntogether. The overture-fantasies, _Romeo and Juliet_ and _Francesca da\nRimini_, rank with the most popular in that form, and the _Overture\n1812_ is an international hit with music-lovers of all ages and stages.\nTschaikowsky\u2019s song, _None But the Lonely Heart_, is better known\nto many music-lovers than most of the songs of Brahms and Schubert,\nand the great String Quartet contains a melody familiar to every\nfollower of popular song trends. For, of all the classical composers,\nTschaikowsky has been a veritable gold-mine as a lucrative source of\nthemes for popular arrangement.\nYet, this sad and sensitive musical genius who knew so well how to\nreach the human soul surprisingly began his career as a clerk in\nthe St. Petersburg Ministry of Justice. Like other great Russian\ncomposers, Tschaikowsky arrived at music by a circuitous route, almost\nby accident. Moussorgsky, one recalls, was long an officer in the\nCzar\u2019s Army before he switched to music. And Borodin always regarded\nmusic as a secondary pursuit to his medical practice and his laboratory\nexperiments in chemistry. Tschaikowsky was first a lawyer. But soon he\nfound court action and the preparation of briefs tiresome and unsavory\ntoil, so at twenty-one he returned to his first love, which was music.\nBorn on May 7, 1840, Tschaikowsky had begun to study piano at the\nage of seven. When he was ten, his father, a director of a foundry\nat Votinsk with next to no interest in music, took the family to St.\nPetersburg. There young Peter continued his musical studies, never,\nthough, with any thought of preparing for a career in music. Yet,\nlater, even while studying law, he went on playing the piano and taking\npart in the performances of a choral society. Although he amused\nfriends by improvising on the piano, few detected any signs of creative\ngenius. At twenty-one Tschaikowsky made his crucial break. He abandoned\nlaw, began earnestly to master musical theory, and resolved to risk\npoverty and starvation by devoting himself to music professionally.\nToday we can only applaud his decision. The repertory would be the\npoorer without his music. Besides, it is not likely that the law lost a\ngreat practitioner when Tschaikowsky bade it farewell.\nHis first important step was to enroll in the Russian Musical\nSociety, later to become the St. Petersburg Conservatory. There\nAnton Rubinstein, the renowned pianist and composer, then teaching\ncomposition and orchestration, exerted a lasting influence on him.\nAt that time Anton\u2019s brother Nicholas was founding the Moscow\nConservatory. Impressed by Tschaikowsky\u2019s brilliant showing at the St.\nPetersburg school, he engaged him as instructor in harmony for the\nnew Moscow organization. Tschaikowsky held the post for eleven years.\nThe pay was scant, but there were weightier compensations. Nicholas\nRubinstein gave the young man a room in his Moscow house, encouraged\nhim to compose, introduced him around, and gave him sound advice on\nsundry matters. Best of all, he produced many of Tschaikowsky\u2019s early\ncompositions. Tschaikowsky, loyal and devoted in all his ties, never\nforgot his friend. After Rubinstein\u2019s death, he dedicated his Trio, _In\nMemory of a Great Artist_, to the great man who had given him his real\nstart in music and a creative life.\nDuring his second year in the Moscow Conservatory Tschaikowsky fell\nmadly in love with the French soprano D\u00e9sir\u00e9e Art\u00f4t, then touring\nRussia. While the indecisive Russian wasted time weighing the\nadvantages and disadvantages of marriage, a Spanish baritone named\nPadilla came along, made violent love to Mlle. Art\u00f4t, and hurried her\noff to the altar before she could catch her breath and notify her\nRussian suitor. We nevertheless owe the fickle French lady a debt of\ngratitude. Without the emotional disturbance Tschaikowsky might not\nhave been moved to write the _Romeo and Juliet_ overture-fantasy. His\nfirst serious rebuff in love had at any rate paid dividends in art.\nFrom then on Tschaikowsky wrote at a feverish pace. Whenever his duties\nat the Conservatory could spare him, he retired to his study and wrote\nsymphonies, overtures, operas, chamber music, songs, and religious\nchoruses. Sometimes a gnawing doubt in his own talents assailed him. To\nhis friends he wrote voluminous letters complaining of the strong sense\nof inferiority bedevilling his work. There were attacks of bleak gloom\nand diffidence lasting weeks. Trips to the country or to Italy and\nSwitzerland were often needed to restore his damaged nervous system and\njarred self-confidence to normalcy. Unfavorable reviews stung him like\nwasps. And while Moscow often evidenced great enthusiasm for his music,\nSt. Petersburg was harder to please. The press there was often virulent\nwith abuse.\nThen Tschaikowsky pinned great hopes on his operas _Eugene Onegin_ and\n_Pique Dame_ (\u201cThe Queen of Spades\u201d). Both proved fiascos at their\npremi\u00e8res, though the public and press later revised their opinions\ndrastically. Moreover, reports reached him of the cold reception\naccorded his _Romeo and Juliet_ in Paris and the catcalls greeting his\nmusic in Vienna. And there was a music critic named Eduard Hanslick in\nVienna who kept Tschaikowsky awake nights wondering what new critical\nblast was awaiting his latest Viennese premi\u00e8re.\nIronically, America and England were the only two countries instantly\nattracted to Tschaikowsky\u2019s music. There his prestige rose with each\nnew symphony or overture. Cambridge University conferred an honorary\ndoctor\u2019s degree on him in 1893. Europe was soon to be won over,\nhowever. Despite an often hostile press, the music publics of France,\nGermany, and Austria began clamoring for more and more of his music,\nand conductors were forced to acquiesce. But to the end he remained a\nsorrowing and morose man, hypersensitive, even morbidly so, but almost\nalways the soul of kindliness and punctilio. When, on the invitation of\nWalter Damrosch, Tschaikowsky came to America in 1891, he was widely\nacclaimed by public and press. While here he gave six concerts in all,\nfour in New York, one in Baltimore and one in Philadelphia. In New York\nhe was guest of honor on the programs of the New York Symphony Society\ncelebrating the opening of the Music Hall, now Carnegie Hall. The\nfestival lasted from May 5 to May 9, and Tschaikowsky was widely feted\nsocially and professionally. He conducted several of his own works in\nthe hall constructed largely from funds provided by the steel magnate,\nAndrew Carnegie.\nThe year 1877 is an important one in the chronicle of Tschaikowsky\u2019s\nlife. He made his one disastrous experiment in marriage with a\nromantic-minded young conservatory student named Antonina Miliukov.\nThe girl had aroused his pity and alarm by her passionate avowals of\nlove and equally passionate threats of suicide. The story is discussed\nbelow in my account of the Fourth Symphony, which grew partly out of\nthat distressing episode. Suffice it here to note that the experience\nwas so shattering to Tschaikowsky that he attempted to end his life by\nstanding up to his neck at night in the freezing waters of the Neva\nRiver. Antonina eventually died in an insane asylum. Tschaikowsky\nformed another alliance that year, one far more profitable and far\nless nerve-wracking than his short tie with Mlle. Miliukov. This was\nhis famous friendship with Nadezhka von Meck, a wealthy and cultivated\nwidow. Out of profound admiration for his music and a probable romantic\nhope to become Mrs. Tschaikowsky, Mme. von Meck settled an annuity\namounting to $3,000 on the destitute and ailing composer. The gift\ncontinued for thirteen years. Many letters about life, music, and\npeople were exchanged between Tschaikowsky and his Lady Bountiful. The\ntwo never met, however. Tschaikowsky\u2019s Fourth Symphony is dedicated to\nthis remarkable woman, who was the most famous Fairy Godmother in music.\nAlthough Tschaikowsky himself thought of the _Pathetic_ symphony as\nhis crowning masterpiece, the premi\u00e8re on October 28, 1893, in St.\nPetersburg proved a disappointment. Tschaikowsky took it bitterly.\nTwo weeks later, however, the tables were turned. Everybody acclaimed\nit warmly. But Tschaikowsky was not there to bow his acknowledgment.\nHe had fallen victim to the cholera epidemic then raging in St.\nPetersburg. Though warned by the authorities, Tschaikowsky drank some\nunboiled water on November 2. Four days later he was dead. No symphony\nwas more appropriately named than this melancholy masterpiece, the\n_Pathetic_ symphony, the brooding phrases of which sound truly like the\n\u201cswan song\u201d of a tired and abysmally disillusioned man of genius.\n                  MARCHES, OVERTURES, FANTASIAS, ETC.\nThe _Marche Slave_ stands foremost among Tschaikowsky\u2019s marches,\nof which he wrote numerous, including several incorporated in his\noperas and suites. Most of them were composed for special purposes\nor occasions. There is the _Marche Solennelle_, written \u201cfor the Law\nStudents,\u201d which figured on the housewarming program at the opening\nof Carnegie Hall in May, 1891, besides a _Marche Militaire_, which he\nwrote for the band of the Czar\u2019s 98th Infantry Regiment. In 1883 the\ncity of Moscow requisitioned a _Coronation March_ from him. Earlier,\nTschaikowsky had written a march in honor of the famous General\nSkobelev. But he held it in such low esteem that he allowed it to\ncirculate as the work of a non-existent composer named Sinopov.\n  [Illustration: The composer at the age of twenty-three, during his\n               early years at the Moscow Conservatory.]\n   [Illustration: D\u00e9sir\u00e9e Art\u00f4t, the French soprano who, in jilting\nTschaikowsky, helped to inspire his Romeo and Juliet overture-fantasy.]\nThe _Marche Slave_ was written in 1876 for a benefit concert to raise\nfunds for soldiers wounded in the Turko-Serbian war, which presently\nmerged into a greater war between Turkey and Russia. It is based\nlargely on the old Russian anthem, \u201cGod Save the Emperor,\u201d and some\nSouth Slavonic and Serbian tunes. The main theme has been traced to the\nSerbian folk song, _Sunce varko ne fijas jednako_ (\u201cCome, my dearest,\nwhy so sad this morning?\u201d). Divided into three sections, the march\nfeatures fragments of the old Czarist hymn in the middle portion.\nHow the hymn itself came to be written is told by its author, Alexis\nFeodorovich Lvov:\n\u201cIn 1833, I accompanied the Emperor Nicholas during his travels in\nPrussia and Austria. When we had returned to Russia I was informed by\nCount von Benkendorf that the sovereign regretted that we Russians had\nno national anthem of our own, and that, as he was tired of the English\ntune which had filled the gap for many years, he wished me to see\nwhether I could not compose a Russian hymn.\n\u201cThe problem appeared to me to be an extremely difficult and serious\none. When I recalled the imposing British national anthem, \u2018God Save\nthe King,\u2019 the very original French one and the really touching\nAustrian hymn, I felt and appreciated the necessity of writing\nsomething big, strong and moving; something national that should\nresound through a church as well as through the ranks of an army;\nsomething that could be taken up by a huge multitude and be within the\nreach of every man, from the dunce to the scholar. The idea absorbed\nme, but I was worried by the conditions thus imposed on the work with\nwhich I had been commissioned.\n\u201cOne evening as I was returning home very late, I thought out and wrote\ndown in a few minutes the tune of the hymn. The next day I called on\nShoukovsky to ask him to write the words; but he was no musician and\nhad much trouble to adapt them to the phrases of the first section of\nthe melody.\n\u201cAt last I was able to announce the completion of the hymn to Count von\nBenkendorf. The Emperor wished to hear it, and came on November 23 to\nthe chapel of the Imperial Choir, accompanied by the Empress and the\nGrand Duke Michael. I had collected the whole body of choristers and\nre-enforced them by two orchestras. The sovereign asked for the hymn\nto be repeated several times, expressed a wish to hear it sung without\naccompaniment, and then had it played first of all by each orchestra\nseparately and then finally by all the executants together. His Majesty\nturned to me and said in French: \u2018Why, it\u2019s superb!\u2019 and then and there\ngave orders to Count von Benkendorf to inform the Minister of War that\nthe hymn was to be adopted for the army. The order to this effect was\nissued December 4, 1883. The first public performance of the hymn was\non December 11, 1883, at the Grand Theater in Moscow. The Emperor\nseemed to want to submit my work to the judgment of the Moscow public.\nOn December 25 the hymn resounded through the rooms of the Winter\nPalace on the occasion of the blessing of the colors.\n\u201cAs proof of his satisfaction the Emperor graciously presented me with\na gold snuff-box studded with diamonds, and in addition gave orders\nthat the words \u2018God Save the Tsar\u2019 should be placed on the armorial\nbearings of the Lvov family.\u201d\nAlthough clearly a _pi\u00e8ce d\u2019occasion_ prompted by the commemoration\nof a crucial page in Russian history, the _Overture 1812_ is a minor\nmystery in the Tschaikowsky catalogue. Supposedly Nicholas Rubinstein\ncommissioned Tschaikowsky in 1880 to write a festival overture for the\nMoscow Exhibition. At least the composer admits as much in letters to\nNadezhka von Meck and the conductor Napravnik.\nBut his friend Kashkin insisted the piece was requested for the\nceremonies consecrating the Moscow Cathedral of the Saviour, intended\nto symbolize Russia\u2019s part in the Napoleonic struggle. The overture,\naccordingly, pictured the great events beginning with the Battle of\nBorodino (September 7, 1812) and ending with Napoleon\u2019s flight from\nMoscow, after the city was set aflame. To make it more effective, the\nwork was to be performed in the public square before the cathedral.\nAn electric connection on the conductor\u2019s desk would set off salvos\nof real artillery, and all Moscow would thrill with thoughts of its\nheroic past. In any case Tschaikowsky finished the overture at Kamenka\nin 1880, and though the cathedral was dedicated in the summer of 1881,\nthere is no record of the planned street scene having come off.\nInstead, we find Tschaikowsky offering the overture to Eduard\nNapravnik, then directing the Imperial Musical Society of St.\nPetersburg: \u201cLast winter, at Nicholas Rubinstein\u2019s request, I composed\na Festival Overture for the concerts of the exhibition, entitled\n\u20181812.\u2019\u201d Tschaikowsky then makes a statement that possibly suggests\nan earlier rebuff: \u201cCould you possibly manage to have this played? It\nis not of great value, and I shall not be at all surprised or hurt if\nyou consider the style of the music unsuitable to a symphony concert.\u201d\nApparently Napravnik turned down the overture, and its premi\u00e8re was\npostponed to August 20, 1882, when it figured on an all-Tschaikowsky\nconcert in the Art and Industrial Exhibition at Moscow.\nTschaikowsky\u2019s attitude to the work is further expressed in the\nletter to his patroness-saint Mme. von Meck. There he speaks of the\noverture as \u201cvery noisy\u201d and having \u201cno great artistic value\u201d because\nit was written \u201cwithout much warmth of enthusiasm.\u201d And in a diary\nentry of the time he refers to it as having \u201conly local and patriotic\nsignificance.\u201d\nThe \u201cpatriotic significance,\u201d of course, is what gives the overture\nits _raison d\u2019\u00eatre_ as a motion picture of historical events.\nTschaikowsky\u2019s brushstrokes are bold and obvious. The French and\nRussians are clearly depicted through the use of the Czarist National\nAnthem and the _Marseillaise_. Fragments of Cossack and Novgorod folk\nsongs enter the scheme, and the battle and fire scenes are as plain as\npictures. As the overture develops, one envisions the clash of arms\nat Borodino, with the Russians stiffly disputing every step and the\n_Marseillaise_ finally rising dominant. The Russians are hurled back;\nthe French are in Moscow. Finally the city is ablaze and the dismal\nrout begins, as cathedral bells mingle with the roll of drums and the\nhymn, _God Preserve Thy People_, surges out in a paean of victory.\n                     _Capriccio Italien_, OPUS 45\nDescribed by Edwin Evans as a \u201cbundle of Italian folk-tunes,\u201d the\n_Capriccio Italien_ draws partly on published collections of such\nmelodies and partly on popular airs heard by Tschaikowsky in 1880 while\ntouring Italy. \u201cI am working on a sketch of an \u2018Italian Fantasia\u2019 based\non folksongs,\u201d he notifies his patroness-confidante, Nadeshka von Meck,\nfrom Rome on February 17, 1880. \u201cThanks to the charming themes, some of\nwhich I have heard in the streets, the work will be effective.\u201d\n [Illustration: A facsimile of a piece of Tschaikowsky\u2019s music, signed\nTschaikowsky\u2019s room at the Hotel Constanzi overlooked the barracks of\nthe Royal Cuirassiers. Apparently the bugle-call sounded nightly in\nthe barracks yards contributed another theme \u201cheard in the streets,\u201d\nfor it may be heard in the trumpet passage of the introduction. The\n_Italian Fantasia_ was fully sketched out in Rome and the orchestration\nbegun. With the title now changed to _Capriccio Italien_, the work was\ncompleted that summer on Tschaikowsky\u2019s return to Russia. Nicholas\nRubinstein directed the premi\u00e8re at Moscow on December 18, 1880. Six\nyears later Walter Damrosch introduced it to America at a concert in\nthe Metropolitan Opera House, the precise date being November 6, 1886.\nAfter the introductory section, the strings chant a lyric theme of\nslightly melancholy hue, which the orchestra then develops. Later\nthe oboes announce, in thirds, a simple folk melody of less sombre\ncharacter. This, too, is elaborately worked out, before the tempo\nchanges and violins and flutes bring in another tune. This promptly\nsubsides as a brisk march section sets in, followed by a return of\nthe opening theme. There is a transition to a lively tarantella, then\nanother bright theme in triple rhythm, and finally the Presto section,\nwith a second tarantella motif leading to a brilliant close.\n\u201cIt is a piece of music which relies entirely on its orchestration for\nits effects,\u201d writes Evans in the Master Musicians Series. \u201cIts musical\nvalue is comparatively slight, but the coloring is so vivid and so\nfascinating, and the movement throughout so animated, that one does not\nrealize this when listening to the work. It is only afterwards that\none experiences certain pangs of regret that such a rich garment should\nbedeck so thin a figure.\u201d\n          SUITE FOR STRINGS, _Souvenir de Florence_, OPUS 70\nCompared with his output in other forms, Tschaikowsky\u2019s chamber music\nis small, consisting of an early quartet, of which only the first\nmovement survives, three complete string quartets, a trio, and the\n_Souvenir de Florence_, written for violins, violas, and \u2019cellos in\npairs.\nAs the title implies, the work grew out of a visit to Italy early in\n1890, though as a clew to the mood and manner of the music, _Souvenir\nde Florence_ is a better title for the first two movements than for the\nothers. The remaining _Allegretto moderato_ and _Allegro vivace_ bear\nan Italian \u201cmemory\u201d only insofar as much other music by Tschaikowsky\nand other composers may share the same quality. Even a marked Slavic\ncharacter is evident in places, which is only natural. As is well\nknown, Tschaikowsky\u2019s overture-fantasy _Romeo and Juliet_ is often\ndubbed \u201cRomeo and Juliet of the Steppes.\u201d\nA first mention of the _Souvenir_ occurs in a letter to\nIppolitoff-Ivanoff dated May 5, 1890, written shortly after\nTschaikowsky\u2019s return from abroad. It is quoted by his brother Modeste:\n\u201cMy visit brought forth good fruit. I composed an opera, \u2018Pique Dame,\u2019\nwhich seems a success to me.... My plans for the future are to finish\nthe orchestration of the opera, sketch out a string sextet [the\n_Souvenir_], go to my sister at Kamenka for the end of the summer, and\nspend the whole autumn with you at Tiflis.\u201d\nOn the following June 30 he communicated news of the sextet to his\npatroness-saint Mme. von Meck, hoping she would be \u201cpleased to hear\u201d\nabout it. \u201cI know your love of chamber music,\u201d he writes, \u201cand I hope\nthe work will please you. I wrote it with the greatest enthusiasm and\nwithout the least exertion.\u201d\nIn November Tschaikowsky went to St. Petersburg for a rehearsal of\n_Pique Dame_. While there he arranged for a private hearing of the\nsextet by friends. The performance left him cold and he resolved to\nrewrite the Scherzo and Finale. By the following May the work was\nthoroughly remodelled. It was not till June, 1892, while in Paris, that\nhe actually completed the revision to his satisfaction.\nThe four movements comprise an _Allegro con spirito_ (D minor, 4-4),\nan _Adagio cantabile e con moto_ (D major, 3-4), an _Allegretto\nmoderato_ (A minor, 2-4), and an _Allegro vivace_ (D minor-D major,\n2-4). The form is largely that of the classical string quartet, though\ncharacteristically bold and novel devices of color and structure\nabound. Often the strings are ingeniously treated to suggest wind\ninstruments, and one senses Tschaikowsky\u2019s frequent striving for\norchestral effects.\nResearch has failed to unearth the \u201copprobrious epithets\u201d Tschaikowsky\nis alleged to have heaped upon this slight but appealing work.\n                 OVERTURE-FANTASY, _Romeo and Juliet_\nShortly before the overture-fantasy on Shakespeare\u2019s tragedy took\nshape in Tschaikowsky\u2019s mind, he had been jilted by the French soprano\nD\u00e9sir\u00e9e Art\u00f4t, then enjoying a prodigious vogue as opera singer in St.\nPetersburg. The twenty-eight-year-old composer and Mlle. Art\u00f4t had\nbecome engaged in 1868, but the lady promptly left him and married the\nSpanish baritone Padilla y Ramos. The theory is that Tschaikowsky\u2019s\ncomposition grew out of the resulting emotional upset, or at least that\nhis frame of mind conduced to tragic expression on a romantic theme.\nThe Art\u00f4t episode acted as stimulus, but the concrete suggestion for\nusing Shakespeare\u2019s tragedy in a symphonic work came from Balakireff\nduring a walk with Tschaikowsky and their friend Kashkin \u201con a lovely\nday in May.\u201d Balakireff, head of the group of five young Russian\ncomposers (Tschaikowsky was not one of them) bent on achieving a pure\nnational idiom, went so far as to outline the scheme to Tschaikowsky,\nunfolding the possibilities of dramatic and musical co-ordination so\nvividly that the young composer took eagerly to the project. Balakireff\neven furnished the keys and hints for themes and development.\nHowever, four months went by before Tschaikowsky plunged into the\nactual composition of the overture-fantasy. Balakireff kept in close\ntouch with him and virtually supervised the process. His dogmatism and\nnarrowness often bored and irritated the young composer. Balakireff\naccepted this and rejected that, was pitilessly graphic in his\ncomments, and yet somehow egged on the hypersensitive Tschaikowsky to\ncompletion of a taxing assignment. Finally, in January of the following\nyear, Balakireff and Rimsky-Korsakoff came to visit him and he could\nwrite: \u201cMy overture pleased them very much and it also pleases me.\u201d\nStill, the Moscow public responded coolly, and Tschaikowsky felt\nobliged to revise much of the score that summer. Further rewriting was\ndone for the definitive edition brought out in 1881.\nThe thematic scheme is easy to follow. Friar Laurence takes his bow in\na solemn andante introduction for clarinets and bassoons in F-sharp\nminor. The feud of the Montagues and Capulets rages in a B minor\nallegro. Romeo and Juliet enter via muted violins and English horn in\na famous theme in D-flat major suggesting Tschaikowsky\u2019s song _Wer nur\ndie Sehnsucht kennt_ (\u201cNone But the Lonely Heart\u201d). The strife-torn\nMontagues and Capulets return for another bout. Chords of muted violins\nand violas hinting at mystery and secrecy bring back the love music.\nThe themes of Romeo and Juliet, the embattled families, and Friar\nLaurence are heard in succession, followed by a fierce orchestral\ncrash, and the storm subsides to a roll of kettledrums.\n _Francesca da Rimini_, FANTASIA FOR ORCHESTRA (AFTER DANTE), OPUS 32\nWritten in 1876, Tschaikowsky\u2019s symphonic treatment of the celebrated\nlove story of Paolo and Francesca grew out of an original project for\nan opera on the same subject. He abandoned the idea of an opera when\nthe libretto submitted to him proved impossible. Later Tschaikowsky\nagain read through the fifth canto of Dante\u2019s _Inferno_, in which the\ntragedy is related. Stirred by the verses and also by Gustave Dor\u00e9\u2019s\nillustrations, he resolved to write an orchestral fantasy on the\nsubject.\nPrefacing the score are the following lines from Dante\u2019s great poem:\n\u201cDante arrives in the second circle of hell. He sees that here the\nincontinent are punished, and their punishment is to be continually\ntormented by the crudest winds under a dark and gloomy air. Among these\ntortured ones he recognizes Francesca da Rimini, who tells her story.\n\u201c\u2018 ... There is no greater pain than to recall a happy time in\nwretchedness; and this thy teacher knows. But if thou hast such desire\nto learn the first root of our love, I will do like one who weeps and\ntells.\n\u201c\u2018One day, for pastime, we read of Lancelot, how love constrained him.\nWe were alone, and without all suspicion. Several times reading urged\nour eyes to meet, and changed the color of our faces. But one moment\nalone it was that overcame us. When we read of how the fond smile was\nkissed by such a lover, he, who shall never be divided from me, kissed\nmy mouth all trembling. The book, and he who wrote it, was a Galeotto.\nThat day we read in it no farther.\u2019\n\u201cWhile the one spirit thus spake, the other wept so that I fainted with\npity, as if I had been dying; and fell, as a dead body falls.\u201d\nTschaikowsky used to insist that the following titles be given in the\nprogram-book at performances of his fantasia:\n    I.  Introduction: The gateway to the Inferno\n          (\u201cLeave all hope behind, all ye who enter here\u201d)\n        Tortures and agonies of the condemned.\n   II.  Francesca tells the story of her tragic love for Paolo.\n  III.  The turmoil of Hades. Conclusion.\nThe composition starts with a descriptive setting, in which a sinister,\ngruesome picture is painted of the second circle of Dante\u2019s _Inferno_.\nThe awesome scene, with its haunting, driving winds, desolate moans,\nand dread terror, is repeated at the end. In the middle occurs a\nsection featuring a clarinet in a plaintive and tender melody heard\nagainst string pizzicati. This instantly evokes the image of Francesca\ntelling her tragic tale, which mounts in fervor and reaches its\nshattering crisis, before the wailing winds of Dante\u2019s netherworld\nclose in again.\n       SUITE FROM THE BALLET, _Swan Lake_ (_Le Lac des Cygnes_)\nAll told, Tschaikowsky wrote three ballets, plus a scattering of\nincidental dances for operas, beginning with the surviving \u201cVoyevode\u201d\nfragments. The composition of _Swan Lake_, first of the trio\u2014the\nothers being _The Sleeping Beauty_ and _The Nutcracker_\u2014originated in\na twofold impulse, the need for ready cash and a fondness for French\nballet music, especially the works of Delibes and the _Giselle_ of\nAdolphe Adam, which Tschaikowsky regarded as archetype.\nHe evidently thought little of his initial effort, for shortly after\nthe Moscow production of _Swan Lake_ he recorded in his diary: \u201cLately\nI have heard Delibes\u2019 very clever music. \u2018Swan Lake\u2019 is poor stuff\ncompared to it. Nothing during the last few years has charmed me so\ngreatly as this ballet of Delibes and \u2018Carmen\u2019.\u201d Per contra, the same\nentry bemoans the \u201cdeterioration\u201d of German music, the immediate\noffender being the \u201ccold, obscure and pretentious\u201d C minor symphony of\nBrahms!\nTschaikowsky was probably sincere when he described his own ballet as\n\u201cpoor stuff\u201d compared with Delibes\u2019. That was in 1877. Performances of\n_Swan Lake_ at the Bolshoi Theater had been flat, shabby, and badly\ncostumed. A conductor inexperienced with elaborate ballet scores had\ndirected. Modeste Tschaikowsky, in the biography of his brother,\ntestifies to this. Numbers were omitted as \u201cundanceable,\u201d and pieces\nfrom other ballets substituted. At length only a third of the original\nremained, and not the best. The ballet dropped out of the Moscow\nrepertory, and it was not until 1894 that the enterprising Marius\nPetipa wrote to Moscow for the full score and produced _Swan Lake_\nwith brilliant success at the Maryinsky Theater in St. Petersburg,\non January 15, 1895. It has since remained a repertory staple, both\nthe current Ballets Russes and the Ballet Theatre having staged it\nsuccessfully. Pavlova, Karsavina, and Markova, among others, have\ninterpreted the heroine Odette, and Prince Siegfried has been embodied\nby Nijinsky, Lifar, Mordkin, and Dolin. _Swan Lake_ was one of the\nfirst ballets witnessed in his youth by Serge Diaghileff, founder of\nthe famous Ballets Russes.\nTschaikowsky first refers to _Swan Lake_ in a letter to\nRimsky-Korsakoff, dated September 10, 1875: \u201cI accepted the work partly\nbecause I need the money and because I have long cherished a desire to\ntry my hand at this type of music.\u201d V. P. Begitche, stage manager of\nthe Bolshoi, offered 800 roubles (less than $500) and in turn granted\nTschaikowsky\u2019s request for a story from the Age of Chivalry, making\nthe sketch himself. Tschaikowsky set to work in August, 1875, and had\nthe first two acts planned out in a fortnight, but the score was not\ncompleted till the following March and for some reason held up for\nperformance until February, 1877.\nThe story, possibly of Rhenish origin, tells how Prince Siegfried woos\nand wins Odette, the Swan Queen. At a celebration the prince is told\nhe must soon choose a bride. A flight of swans overhead distracts him\nand a hunt is proposed. Siegfried and the hunters are at the lake-side.\nIt is evening. Odette appears surrounded by a bevy of swan-maidens.\nShe begs the hunters to spare the swans. They are maidens under the\nspell of the enchanter Rotbart. Swans by day, they return briefly to\nhuman form at midnight. The prince and Odette fall in love. Siegfried\nswears she will be his wife. Odette cautions him about Rotbart\u2019s evil\npower. Breach of promise will mean her death. Rotbart brings his own\ndaughter to the court ball, disguised as Odette. Siegfried makes the\nfalse choice of bride, and the pledge is broken. Discovering Rotbart\u2019s\nruse, he hastens to Odette, who at first rebuffs him. Siegfried\nblames Rotbart and Odette relents. At length Rotbart whips up a storm\nwhich floods the forest. When Siegfried vows he will die with Odette,\nRotbart\u2019s spell is shattered and all ends happily.\nTschaikowsky\u2019s close friend and collaborator Kashkin is authority for\nthe statement that an adagio section in _Swan Lake_ was a love-duet\nin the opera _Undine_ before it found new lodgings. Conversely, a\nDanse Russe in the group of piano pieces, Op. 40, was written for\n_Swan Lake_, thus balancing matters. Like _The Sleeping Beauty_ and\n_The Nutcracker_, _Swan Lake_ is famed for its waltz. The score brims\nwith typical Tschaikowskyan melody, and probably for the first time\nin ballet music a scheme of leitmotifs is used, two of the principal\nsubjects being the tremulous theme of the swans in flight and the\nhauntingly wistful theme of Odette herself, assigned to the oboe\nagainst soft strings and harp arpeggios. The music adjusts itself\nsnugly to the technic of pure classical ballet and solos and ensembles\nare contrasted adroitly.\n         SUITE FROM THE BALLET, _The Sleeping Beauty_, OPUS 66\nBased on Perrault\u2019s famous fairy tale, Tschaikowsky\u2019s _Sleeping Beauty_\nballet dates from the summer of 1889. Its music is generally regarded\nas superior to that of the _Swan Lake_ ballet and inferior to that\nof the _Nutcracker_ suite. Few ballet scores are so suitable in mood\nand style for the action they accompany. The music is truly melodious\nin Tschaikowsky\u2019s lighter vein. The fantasy is conveyed in bright,\nglittering colors, and, as Mrs. Newmarch pointed out, the music \u201cnever\ndescends to the commonplace level of the ordinary ballet music.\u201d\nThere are thirty numbers in all, many of them, especially the waltz,\nendearing in their lilting and haunting grace. The work was first\nproduced in St. Petersburg on January 2, 1890. In the early twenties,\nDiaghileff, the great ballet producer, revived the work in London and\nelsewhere with immense artistic _\u00e9clat_. Fragments of the ballet have\nbeen gathered in the Monte Carlo Ballet Russe\u2019s production of _Aurora\u2019s\nWedding_.\n          SUITE FROM THE BALLET, _The Nutcracker_, OPUS 71-A\nThe usual fit of depression assailed Tschaikowsky while composing\nthe music for his _Nutcracker_ ballet, based on E. T. A. Hoffmann\u2019s\nstory _Nussknacker und Mausek\u00f6nig_ (\u201cNutcracker and Mouse King\u201d).\nCommissioned by the St. Petersburg Opera early in 1891, the work was\nslow in taking shape. At length, on June 25, Tschaikowsky completed\nthe sketches for the projected ballet. What had taken him weeks should\nhave been finished in five days, he lamented. \u201cNo, the old man is\nbreaking up,\u201d he wrote. \u201cNot only does his hair drop out, or turn as\nwhite as snow; not only does he lose his teeth, which refuse their\nservice; not only do his eyes weaken and tire easily; not only do his\nfeet walk badly, or drag themselves along, but, bit by bit, he loses\nthe capacity to do anything at all. The ballet is infinitely worse than\n\u2018The Sleeping Beauty\u2019\u2014so much is certain.\u201d\nApparently the first night audience agreed with him, for at the\npremi\u00e8re in the Imperial Opera House, the response was chilling. Yet an\nearlier concert performance of the music had drawn plaudits from both\npublic and press. The ballet\u2019s failure, however, was easy to explain.\nThe producer, Marius Petipa, fell ill, and the work of staging the\nnew ballet was entrusted to a man of inadequate skill and experience.\nThen, the audience found it hard to thrill to the spectacle of children\ndashing coyly about in the first act. And balletomanes, accustomed to\nbeauty and glamor in their favorite ballerinas, found the girl dancing\nthe part of the Sugarplum Fairy anything but appetizing to look at.\nAct I of the ballet is concerned with a Christmas Tree party. The scene\nis overrun with children and mechanical dolls. Little Marie is drawn\nto a German Nutcracker, which is made to resemble an old man with huge\njaws. During a game, some boys accidentally break the Nutcracker. Marie\nis saddened by the tragedy. That night she lies awake in bed, sleepless\nwith grief over the broken utensil. Finally, she jumps out of bed and\ngoes to take one more look at the beloved Nutcracker. Suddenly strange\nsounds reach her ears. Mice! The Tree now seems to come to life and\ngrow massive. Toys begin to stir into action, followed by cakes and\ncandies. Even the Nutcracker creaks into life. Presently a battle\narises between the mice and the toys. The Nutcracker challenges the\nMouse King to a duel. Just as the Nutcracker is about to be felled,\nMarie hurls a shoe and kills the royal rodent. And of course, the\nNutcracker promptly is transformed into a handsome prince. Arm in arm,\nthey leave for his magic kingdom.\nThe scene now changes to a mountain of jam for the second act. This is\nthe land ruled by the Sugarplum Fairy, who is awaiting the arrival of\nMarie and her princely escort. The court cheers jubilantly when the\nhappy pair appears on the scene. What follows is the series of dances\nusually heard in the concert hall. The sequence runs as follows:\n_Miniature Overture_ (_Allegro giusto_, B-flat, 4-4), featuring\ntwo sharply differentiated themes, scored largely for the higher\ninstruments.\n_March_ (_Tempo di marcia vivo_, G major, 4-4), in which the main theme\nis chanted by clarinets, horns and trumpets, as the children make their\nmeasured entrance.\n_Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy_ (_Andante con moto_, E minor, 2-4). Here\nthe celesta gives out the entrancing melody, with pizzicato strings\naccompanying.\n_Russian Dance: Trepak_ (_Tempo di trepak, molto vivace_, G major,\n2-4), which grows out of a brisk rhythmic figure heard at the beginning.\n_Arabian Dance_ (_Allegretto_, G minor, 3-8). Intended to convey\nthe idea of \u201cCoffee.\u201d A melody in Oriental mood is announced by the\nclarinet, later picked up by the violins.\n_Chinese Dance_ (_Allegretto moderato_, B-flat major, 4-4). Intended to\nconvey the idea of \u201cTea.\u201d The melody is given to the flute against a\npizzicato figure sustained by bassoons and double basses.\n_Dance of the Mirlitons_ (_Moderato assai_, D major, 2-4). For the main\ntheme three flutes join forces. Then comes a different melody given out\nby the trumpets in F-sharp minor before the chief subject is back.\n_Waltz of the Flowers_ (_Tempo di valse_, D major, 3-4). Woodwinds and\nhorns, aided by a harp-cadenza, offer some introductory phrases. Then\nthe horns give out the fetching main melody. Soon the clarinets take it\nup. Flute, oboe, and strings bring in other themes, and the waltz comes\nto a brilliant close.\n        CONCERTO FOR VIOLIN AND ORCHESTRA, IN D MAJOR, OPUS 35\nBefore occupying its permanent niche in the repertory, Tschaikowsky\u2019s\nviolin concerto had to run a fierce gantlet of fault-finding. Friend\nand foe alike took pokes at it. The wonder is that it survived at all.\nEven Mme. von Meck, Tschaikowsky\u2019s patroness-saint, picked serious\nflaws in the work, and the lady was known for her unwavering faith in\nTschaikowsky\u2019s genius.\nAs a matter of fact, Tschaikowsky, often an unsparing critic of his\nown music, started the trend by finding objection with the Andante\nand rewriting it whole. That was in April, 1878. He was spending the\nspring at Clarens, Switzerland. Joseph Kotek, a Russian violinist and\ncomposer, was staying with him. Tschaikowsky and Kotek went over the\nwork several times, and evidently saw eye-to-eye on its merits.\nThen came the first outside rebuff. Mme. von Meck was frankly\ndissatisfied and showed why in detail. Tschaikowsky meekly wrote back\npleading guilty on some counts but advancing the hope that in time his\nLady Bountiful might come to like the concerto. He stood pat on the\nfirst movement, which Mme. von Meck particularly assailed.\n\u201cYour frank judgment on my violin concerto pleased me very much,\u201d he\nwrites. \u201cIt would have been very disagreeable to me if you, from any\nfear of wounding the petty pride of a composer, had kept back your\nopinion. However, I must defend a little the first movement of the\nconcerto.\n\u201cOf course, it houses, as does every piece that serves virtuoso\npurposes, much that appeals chiefly to the mind; nevertheless, the\nthemes are not painfully evolved: the plan of this movement sprang\nsuddenly in my head and quickly ran into its mould. I shall not give up\nthe hope that in time the piece will give you greater pleasure.\u201d\nNext came a more serious setback from Leopold Auer, the widely\nrespected Petersburg virtuoso. Auer was then professor of violin at the\nImperial Conservatory and the Czar\u2019s court violinist. Tschaikowsky,\nhoping to induce Auer to launch the concerto on its career, originally\ndedicated the work to him. But Auer glanced through the score and\npromptly decided against it. It was \u201cimpossible to play.\u201d\nTschaikowsky later made a quaintly worded entry in his diary to the\neffect that Auer\u2019s pronouncement cast \u201cthis unfortunate child of\nmy imagination for many years to come into the limbo of hopelessly\nforgotten things.\u201d Justly or unjustly, he even suspected Auer of having\nprevailed on the violinist Emile Sauret to abstain from playing it in\nSt. Petersburg.\nThe ice finally broke when Adolf Brodsky, after two years of admitted\nlaziness and indecision, took it up and succeeded in performing it with\nthe Vienna Philharmonic on December 4, 1881. Yet, even Brodsky, despite\nhis wholehearted espousal of the work, complained to Tschaikowsky that\nhe had \u201ccrammed too many difficulties into it.\u201d Previously, in Paris,\nBrodsky had experimented with the concerto by playing it to Laroche,\nwho, whether because of Brodsky\u2019s rendering or the concerto\u2019s inherent\ncharacter, confessed \u201che could gain no true idea of the work.\u201d\nEven the premi\u00e8re went against the new concerto. In the first place\nBrodsky had to do some strong propagandizing to get Hans Richter to\ninclude the work on a Philharmonic program. Then, only one rehearsal\nwas granted. The orchestral parts, according to Brodsky, \u201cswarmed with\nerrors.\u201d At the rehearsal nobody liked the new work. Besides, Richter\nwanted to make cuts, but Brodsky promptly scotched the idea. Finally,\nduring the performance, the musicians, still far from having mastered\nthe music, accompanied everything pianissimo, \u201cnot to go smash.\u201d\nOf course, Brodsky outlines the chain of contretemps in a letter to\nTschaikowsky partly to assuage the composer\u2019s pained feelings on\nreceiving news of the Vienna fiasco. For the premi\u00e8re ended with a\nbroadside of hisses, completely obliterating the polite applause coming\nfrom some friendly quarters. As the _coup de gr\u00e2ce_ Eduard Hanslick,\nEurope\u2019s uncrowned ruler of musical destinies, wrote a scathing notice,\nwhich Philip Hale rendered as follows:\n\u201cFor a while the concerto has proportion, is musical, and is not\nwithout genius, but soon savagery gains the upper hand and lords it to\nthe end of the first movement.\n\u201cThe violin is no longer played. It is yanked about. It is torn\nasunder. It is beaten black and blue. I do not know whether it is\npossible for any one to conquer these hair-raising difficulties, but I\ndo know that Mr. Brodsky martyrized his hearers as well as himself.\n\u201cThe Adagio, with its tender national melody, almost conciliates,\nalmost wins us. But it breaks off abruptly to make way for a finale\nthat puts us in the midst of the brutal and wretched jollity of a\nRussian kermess. We see wild and vulgar faces, we hear curses, we smell\nbad brandy.\n\u201cFriedrich Vischer once asserted in reference to lascivious paintings\nthat there are pictures which \u2018stink in the eye.\u2019 Tschaikowsky\u2019s violin\nconcerto brings to us for the first time the horrid idea that there may\nbe music that stinks in the ear.\u201d\nThe pestiferous odors of the Hanslick blast further embittered\nTschaikowsky\u2019s already gloomy disposition, and it is not surprising to\nlearn that the review haunted him till the day he died. But Brodsky\u2019s\nunflagging devotion to the concerto, together with his practical\nmissionary zeal in acquainting the European public with it, finally\nstarted the concerto on its path of glory.\n\u201cNor was that the end of time\u2019s revenges,\u201d wrote Pitts Sanborn.\n\u201cHanslick was to write glowingly of the \u2018Path\u00e9tique\u2019 symphony, and\nin due course Leopold Auer not only played the unplayable concerto\nhimself, but made a specialty of teaching it to his pupils, who have\ncarried its gospel the world over. But while the belated triumphs were\naccruing Tschaikowsky died.\u201d\nThe dedication is to Brodsky, who certainly earned it.\nThe first movement (_Allegro moderato_, D major, 4-4), opens with a\nmelody for strings and woodwind. Then the solo violin is heard in a\ncadenza-like sequence followed by the first theme (_Moderato assai_). A\nsecond theme, _Molto espressivo_, is next discoursed by the violin in A\nmajor. Instead of the usual development there is an intricate cadenza\nwithout accompaniment. A long and brilliant coda concludes the movement.\nThe second movement (_Canzonetta: Andante_, 3-4) starts with the\nmuted solo violin chanting, after a brief preface, a nostalgic theme\nin G minor. The flute and clarinet then offer the first phrase of\nthis theme, and later the solo violin unreels a Chopinesque second\nsubject, in E-flat major, _con anima_. The clarinet offers an obbligato\nof arpeggios when the first theme returns. The rousing finale is an\n_Allegro vivacissimo_ in D major, 2-4.\nThe Rondo-like last movement, typically Russian in theme and rhythm,\ndevelops from two folk-like melodies. Listeners will be reminded of\nthe well-known Russian dance, the Trepak, in this movement. The music\nbuilds up at a brisk pace to a crashing climax.\n   CONCERTO FOR PIANO AND ORCHESTRA, IN B-FLAT MINOR, NO. 1, OPUS 23\nLike the violin concerto, Tschaikowsky\u2019s great piano concerto in\nB-flat minor went through a gruelling ordeal of abusive rebuffs and\nsetbacks before becoming established as one of the world\u2019s most beloved\nsymphonic scores. In the case of the violin work, it was Leopold\nAuer who first flouted it as unplayable, and then made it a popular\nrepertory standby. Nicholas Rubinstein is the name linked with the\nearly stages of the piano concerto. After excoriating the concerto in\nits first state, Rubinstein grew to like it, humbly apologized for his\nblunder, and made practical amends by playing it in public with huge\nsuccess.\nEarly in its composition we find Tschaikowsky writing to his brother\nAnatol: \u201cI am so completely absorbed in the composition of a piano\nconcerto. I am anxious that Rubinstein should play it at his concert.\nThe work proceeds very slowly and does not turn out well. However, I\nstick to my intentions and hammer piano passages out of my brain; the\nresult is nervous irritability.\u201d Begun in November, 1874, the concerto\nwas completed the following month. Rubinstein was then invited to\nhear the work. Rubinstein and one or two musical colleagues gathered\nin one of the classrooms of the Moscow Conservatory. Unluckily, the\ngreat man was in a sombre mood that day. Tschaikowsky sat down and\nplayed the first movement. No comment from Rubinstein. Then he played\nthe Andantino. Still no comment. Finally, Tschaikowsky ran through the\nlast movement. He turned around expectantly. Rubinstein said nothing.\nUneasily, Tschaikowsky asked him pointblank: \u201cWhat do you think of\nit?\u201d And the storm broke. It was vulgar, cheap, pianistic, completely\nvalueless, retorted Rubinstein, who then stepped up to the piano and\nbegan to burlesque the music.\n\u201cI left the room without saying a word and went upstairs,\u201d writes\nthe distraught Tschaikowsky. \u201cI could not have spoken for anger and\nagitation. Presently Rubinstein came to me and, seeing how upset I\nwas, called me into another room. There he repeated that my concerto\nwas impossible, pointed out many places where it needed to be\ncompletely revised, and said that if I would suit the concerto to his\nrequirements, he would bring it out at his concert.\n\u201c\u2018I shall not alter a single note,\u2019 he replied. \u2018I shall publish the\nwork precisely as it stands.\u2019 This intention I actually carried out.\u201d\nTschaikowsky did make some alterations in the score, however.\nTschaikowsky changed his mind about dedicating the score to Rubinstein,\nconferring the honor on Hans Von B\u00fclow, instead. Von B\u00fclow played the\nworld premi\u00e8re in Boston on October 25, 1875, and in a letter to the\nRussian composer conveyed his enthusiasm for the work: \u201cThe ideas are\nso original, so noble, so powerful; the details are so interesting,\nand though there are many of them they do not impair the clearness\nand the unity of the work. The form is so mature, ripe, distinguished\nfor style, for intention and labor are everywhere concealed. I should\nweary you if I were to enumerate all the characteristics of your\nwork\u2014characteristics which compel me to congratulate equally the\ncomposer as well as all those who shall enjoy the work actively or\npassively respectively.\u201d Later Tschaikowsky, reading reports of how\nAmericans were acclaiming his concerto, wrote: \u201cThink what healthy\nappetites these Americans must have! Each time B\u00fclow was obliged to\nrepeat the whole finale of my concerto! Nothing like this happens in\nour own country.\u201d\nThe concerto opens with a striking theme, _Allegro non troppo e molto\nmaestoso_, in D-flat major, 3-4, familiar to music-lovers of all tastes\nthe world over. The strings take it up after some brief preluding, and\nit is then repeated, with rhythmic modification, by the solo piano.\nThere is a piano cadenza, and the theme comes back by way of the\nstrings, minus double-basses, against an ascending obbligato from the\npiano. For reasons best known to himself, Tschaikowsky never allows\nthis imposing theme to return to the scene.\nThe \u201cblind beggar tune\u201d is the name often applied to the piano theme\nserving as chief subject of the main section of the first movement\n(_Allegro con spirito_, B-flat minor). Tschaikowsky heard it sung on a\nstreet in Kamenko and he wrote to his patroness-friend, Mme. von Meck:\n\u201cIt is curious that in Russia every blind beggar sings exactly the same\ntune with the same refrain. I have used part of this refrain in my\npiano concerto.\u201d Horns and woodwind discourse the second subject (_Poco\nmeno mosso_, A-flat major) before the solo instrument turns to it.\nThe song-like first theme of the second movement (_Andantino semplice_,\nD-flat major, 6-8) is given out first by the flute, with the oboe\nand clarinets bringing in the second subject against a bassoon\naccompaniment. The _Prestissimo_ middle section in F major, has the\nspirit of a scherzo. A waltz enters the scheme by way of violas and\n\u2019cellos. Tschaikowsky\u2019s brother, Modeste, insisted the theme of this\nwaltz derived from a French song the brothers Tschaikowsky used to sing\nand whistle in their boyhood days.\nThe Rondo-like finale develops from three themes, the first of which,\na lively dance in Cossack style, is given out by the piano. A further\nfolk-like quality is observable in the second theme, and the violins\nlater chant the third of the finale\u2019s themes. In the brisk Coda the\nCossack-like first theme is given the dominant role.\n                  SYMPHONY IN F MINOR, NO. 4, OPUS 36\nAt first sight, this symphony arouses no \u201ccherchez la femme\u201d mystery.\nSeemingly, the lady is not far to seek. In fact, Tschaikowsky throws\noff the search in his dedication. The lady is Madame Nadia Filaretovna\nvon Meck. She was his loyal confidante and benefactress. The least\nTschaikowsky could do was to dedicate a symphony to her. Comfort and\nencouragement in the form of checks and adulatory letters from Mme. von\nMeck saw the sorrowing Slav through many bleak periods.\nThe association has been called \u201cthe most amazing romance in musical\nhistory.\u201d That the \u201cromance\u201d was purely platonic does not make it any\nthe less \u201camazing.\u201d Whatever Mme. von Meck\u2019s secret hopes and longings,\nTschaikowsky shrank from carrying the liaison beyond epistolary scope.\nMme. von Meck resigned herself to an advisory role of patroness-friend,\nand played it nobly. The world reveres her for it. \u201c_Our_ symphony,\u201d\nTschaikowsky wrote to her, communicating his intention to dedicate the\nFourth to her. \u201cI believe you will find in it echoes of your deepest\nthoughts and feelings.\u201d\nWhat Tschaikowsky meant, of course, was \u201c_my_ deepest thoughts and\nfeelings.\u201d The plural possessive, \u201c_ours_,\u201d is gallant rather than\ncollaborative. Even so, he could with more truth than courtesy have\nwritten to another woman, Antonina Ivanovna Miliukov, in similar\nstyle. Antonina was Tschaikowsky\u2019s wife in a domestic farce lasting\ntwo weeks. The whole episode\u2014spanning a wild sequence of engagement,\nmarriage, flight in the night, attempted suicide, separation\u2014nestles\nsnugly in the period of the symphony\u2019s origin. Antonina would have\nunderstood the words \u201c_our_ symphony.\u201d Only fate and brother Anatol\nsaved it from becoming Tschaikowsky\u2019s obituary. Not that it was\nAntonina\u2019s fault. Far from it. But no psychological analysis of the\nFourth can be complete without her.\nThe girl was a conservatory pupil. Tschaikowsky\u2019s music acted like\nmagic on her. Through it she came to a slavish worship of the composer.\nNext followed written avowals of love sizzling with passion. At first\nTschaikowsky was amused, then alarmed, finally haunted. The girl was\npersistent. Her pleas grew piteous. To make matters worse, Tschaikowsky\nwas immersed in his romantic opera _Eugene Onegin_ at the time. He had\njust composed music for Tatiana\u2019s impassioned love-letter to Onegin.\nAntonina\u2019s plight was too much like the spurned Tatiana\u2019s to be lost on\nTschaikowsky\u2019s sensitive nature. Onegin\u2019s cold disdain had virtually\nwrecked the girl\u2019s life. Antonina might even kill herself. Tschaikowsky\nsaw himself as another and more heartless Onegin. The situation\nprobably stroked his vanity, too.\nHe made a na\u00efve offer of friendship. It only stirred up more trouble.\nHe finally granted a meeting. Antonina had won. The girl was deaf\nto his self-depiction as a morose, ill-tempered neurotic who would\nassuredly drive her mad. Antonina knew better. No, there was only\none way out\u2014marriage. Tschaikowsky became engaged. He repented at\nleisure. Attempts to break the engagement proved futile. Antonina was\nbent on becoming Mrs. Tschaikowsky. They were married. A few days later\nTschaikowsky fled for his sanity. They were reconciled. There followed\ntwo hellish weeks of tragi-farcical life together in Moscow. One night,\nin a wild daze, Tschaikowsky fled again. He wandered about wildly and\nreached the Moscow River. He had made up his mind. He stood neck-deep\nin the water, hoping to freeze to death. He was rescued in time.\nThough for long he \u201cbordered on insanity,\u201d somehow he came through\nthe crisis with most of his mind. His brother Anatol took him to\nSwitzerland. Slowly Tschaikowsky got back to normal. He never saw\nAntonina Ivanovna again. The clinical aspects of the case have been\nthoroughly aired in recent years. The publication of long-withheld\nletters throw fresh light on Tschaikowsky\u2019s temperament. Antonina and\nhe were mentally and physically incompatible. Despite the fearful\nsuicidal state into which his marriage plunged him, Tschaikowsky never\nmade a harsh reference to his wife. Antonina, for her part, graciously\ncleared him in her memoirs. \u201cPeter was in no way to blame,\u201d she wrote.\n     [Illustration: The house at Votinsk, in western Russia, where\n Tschaikowsky was born and where he spent the early years of his life\n              before his family moved to St. Petersburg.]\n    [Illustration: Mme. Nadeshka von Meck, Tschaikowsky\u2019s life-long\n        benefactress, whom he corresponded with but never met.]\nDuring this period, which extends from May to September, 1877,\nTschaikowsky worked on his Fourth Symphony. Just how much of his\nprivate woes were transmuted into symphonic speech cannot be\ndetermined, even from Tschaikowsky\u2019s own written confidences. Possibly,\nthe symphony was an avenue of escape from his mounting anxieties.\nAnyway, his completion of the sketch coincides with his engagement to\nAntonina in May. The orchestration of the first movement took up a\nmonth, from August 11 to September 12\u2014the breathing spell between his\ntwo flights from Antonina. Then followed the nerve-racking fortnight\nin Moscow. The other three movements were completed in the Swiss Alps,\nwhere, thanks to his brother, he regained his full sanity and working\ntempo. A passage in a letter to Mme. von Meck, during the Antonina\nregime, suggests an explanation of Tschaikowsky\u2019s abstract talk of Fate\nin connection with his Fourth: \u201cWe cannot escape our fate, and there\nwas something fatalistic about my meeting with this girl.\u201d In January,\n1878, when the whole dismal affair was safely locked away in the past,\nhe wrote to Mme. von Meck that he could only recall his marriage as a\nbad dream:\n\u201cSomething remote, a weird nightmare in which a man bearing my name,\nmy likeness, and my consciousness acted as one acts in dreams: in a\nmeaningless, disconnected, paradoxical way. That was not my sane self,\nin possession of logical and reasonable will-powers. Everything I\nthen did bore the character of an unhealthy conflict between will and\nintelligence, which is nothing less than insanity.\u201d\nTschaikowsky wrote to the composer Taneieff that there was not a single\nbar in his Fourth Symphony which he had not truly felt and which\nwas not an echo of his \u201cmost intimate self.\u201d He frankly avowed the\nsymphony\u2019s \u201cprogrammatic\u201d character, but declared it was \u201cimpossible\nto give the program in words.\u201d Yet, to Mme. von Meck, who insisted on\nknowing the full spiritual and emotional content of the symphony, he\nwrote out a detailed analysis which has long been familiar to concert\naudiences. In reading it the listener usually does one of three things:\ntakes it literally; regards it as irrelevant to the music as such;\nrelates it to Tschaikowsky\u2019s private life. There is the fourth choice\nof combining all three. In that choice lies the synthesis of mind,\nemotion, and external stimuli which is regarded as the very stuff of\nart.\n\u201cOur symphony has a program,\u201d he writes. \u201cThat is to say, it is\npossible to express its contents in words, and I will tell you\u2014and\nyou alone\u2014the meaning of the entire work and its separate movements.\nNaturally I can only do so as regards its general features.\n\u201cThe Introduction is the kernel, the quintessence, the chief thought\nof the whole symphony. This is Fate, the fatal power which hinders one\nin the pursuit of happiness from gaining the goal, which jealously\nprovides that peace and comfort do not prevail, that the sky is not\nfree from clouds\u2014a might that swings, like the sword of Damocles,\nconstantly over the head, that poisons continually the soul. This might\nis overpowering and invincible. There is nothing to do but to submit\nand vainly to complain.\n\u201cThe feeling of despondency and despair grows ever stronger and more\npassionate. It is better to turn from the realities and to lull\noneself in dreams. O joy! What a fine sweet dream! A radiant being,\npromising happiness, floats before me and beckons me. The importunate\nfirst dream of the Allegro is now heard afar off, and now the soul\nis wholly enwrapped with dreams. There is no thought of gloom and\ncheerlessness. Happiness! Happiness! Happiness! No, they are only\ndreams, and Fate dispels them. The whole of life is only a constant\nalternation between dismal reality and flattering dreams of happiness.\nThere is no port: you will be tossed hither and thither by the waves\nuntil the sea swallows you. Such is the program, in substance, of the\nfirst movement.\n\u201cThe second movement shows another phase of sadness. Here is that\nmelancholy feeling which enwraps one when he sits at night alone in\nthe house exhausted by work; the book which he had taken to read has\nslipped from his hand; a swarm of reminiscences has arisen. How sad it\nis that so much has already _been_ and _gone_! And yet it is a pleasure\nto think of the early years. One mourns the past and has neither the\ncourage nor the will to begin a new life. One is rather tired of life.\nOne wishes to recruit his strength and to look back, to revive many\nthings in the memory. One thinks on the gladsome hours when the young\nblood boiled and bubbled and there was satisfaction in life. One thinks\nalso on the sad moments, on irrevocable losses. And all this is now so\nfar away, so far away. And it is also sad and yet so sweet to muse over\nthe past.\n\u201cThere is no determined feeling, no exact expression in the third\nmovement. Here are capricious arabesques, vague figures which slip into\nthe imagination when one has taken wine and is slightly intoxicated.\nThe mood is now gay, now mournful. One thinks about nothing; one gives\nthe fancy loose rein, and there is pleasure in drawings of marvellous\nlines. Suddenly rush into the imagination the picture of a drunken\npeasant and a gutter-song. Military music is heard passing by in the\ndistance. These are disconnected pictures which come and go in the\nbrain of the sleeper. They have nothing to do with reality; they are\nunintelligible, bizarre, out-at-elbows.\n\u201cFourth movement. If you had no pleasure in yourself, look about you.\nGo to the people. See how they can enjoy life and give themselves up\nentirely to festivity. The picture of a folk-holiday. Hardly have\nwe had time to forget ourselves in the happiness of others when\nindefatigable Fate reminds us once more of its presence. The other\nchildren of men are not concerned with us. They do not spare us a\nglance nor stop to observe that we are lonely and sad. How merry and\nglad they all are. All their feelings are so inconsequent, so simple.\nAnd you still say that all the world is immersed in sorrow? There still\n_is_ happiness, simple, native happiness. Rejoice in the happiness of\nothers\u2014and you can still live.\u201d\n                  SYMPHONY IN E MINOR, NO. 5, OPUS 64\nIf surroundings alone determined the mood of a piece of music,\nTschaikowsky\u2019s Fifth Symphony, composed one summer in a country villa\nnear Klin, would be a sunlit idyl. Of course it is nothing of the sort,\nfor though Tschaikowsky responded keenly to outdoor beauty, he was a\nprey to gloomy thoughts and visions that constantly found their way\ninto his music. His own inner world crowded out the other. Frolovskoe,\nwhere he wrote his symphony in 1888, was a charming spot, fringed by a\nforest. Between spurts of composing he took long walks in the woods and\nputtered around the villa garden.\nOn his return from Italy two years later he found that the forest\nhad been cut down. \u201cAll those dear shady spots that were there last\nyear are now a bare wilderness,\u201d he grieved to his brother Modeste.\nIronically, Tschaikowsky also composed his _Hamlet_ overture in\nthe sylvan retreat at Frolovskoe, though from his own and others\u2019\ndescriptions, the place was an ideal setting for an _As You Like It_\nsymphonic fantasy, say.\nThe first intimation that Tschaikowsky was considering a new symphony\nappears in a letter to his brother Modeste dated May 27, 1888. A dread\nthat he had written himself out as composer had been steadily gaining\na grip on Tschaikowsky\u2019s mind. He had complained about his imagination\nbeing \u201cdried up.\u201d He felt no urge to write. Finally he resolved to\nshake off the mood and convince the world and himself there were still\na few good tunes in him.\n\u201cI am hoping to collect, little by little, material for a symphony,\u201d\nhe writes to his brother on May 27. The following month we find him\ninquiring of his lady bountiful, Nadezhka von Meck: \u201cHave I told you\nthat I intended to write a symphony? The beginning has been difficult;\nbut now inspiration seems to have come. However, we shall see.\u201d In the\nsame letter he makes no bones about his intention to prove that he is\nnot \u201cplayed out as a composer.\u201d\nOn August 6 he reported progress on the new work. \u201cI have orchestrated\nhalf the symphony,\u201d he writes. \u201cMy age, although I am not very old,\nbegins to tell on me. I become very tired, and I can no longer play\nthe piano or read at night as I used to do.\u201d Ill health troubled him\nduring the summer months, but by August 26 he was able to announce\nthe completion of the symphony. At first he was dissatisfied with\nit. Even the favorable verdict of a group of musical friends, among\nthem Taneieff, did no good. Early performances of the symphony only\nstrengthened Tschaikowsky\u2019s misgivings. The work was premi\u00e8red in\nSt. Petersburg on November 17, 1888, with Tschaikowsky conducting. A\nsecond performance followed on November 24, at a concert of the Musical\nSociety, with the composer again conducting. Then came a performance in\nPrague. The public was enthusiastic. The critics, on the other hand,\nalmost unanimously attacked it as unworthy of Tschaikowsky\u2019s powers.\nIn a letter to Mme. von Meck in December he expressed frank disgust\nwith the symphony:\n\u201cHaving played my symphony twice in Petersburg and once in Prague, I\nhave come to the conclusion that it is a failure. There is something\nrepellent in it, some over-exaggerated color, some insincerity of\nfabrication which the public instinctively recognizes. It was clear to\nme that the applause and ovations referred not to this but to other\nworks of mine, and that the symphony itself will never please the\npublic. All this causes a deep dissatisfaction with myself.\n\u201cIt is possible that I have, as people say, written myself out,\nand that nothing remains but for me to repeat and imitate myself.\nYesterday evening I glanced over the Fourth Symphony, _our_ symphony.\nHow superior to this one, how much better it is! Yes, this is a\nvery, very sad fact.\u201d A composer who was still to write the _Hamlet_\noverture-fantasy, the _Sleeping Beauty_ and _Nutcracker_ ballets, the\nopera _Pique Dame_, and the _Pathetic_ symphony, was anything but\n\u201cwritten out,\u201d as Tschaikowsky feared!\nAfter the symphony triumphed in both Moscow and Hamburg, Tschaikowsky\nspeedily changed his mind and wrote to his publisher Davidoff: \u201cI like\nit far better now, after having held a bad opinion of it for some\ntime.\u201d He speaks of the Hamburg performance as \u201cmagnificent,\u201d but\nexpresses his old complaint about the Russian press, that it \u201ccontinues\nto ignore me,\u201d and bemoans the fact that \u201cwith the exception of those\nnearest and dearest to me, no one will ever hear of my successes.\u201d\nModeste Tschaikowsky attributed the work\u2019s early failure in St.\nPetersburg (that is, with the critics) to his brother\u2019s poor conducting.\nThe assumed programmatic content of the Fifth Symphony has aroused much\nspeculation. Most analysts are convinced Tschaikowsky had a definite,\nautobiographical plan in mind. Yet he left no descriptive analysis\nsuch as we have of the Fourth Symphony. There he had set out to depict\nthe \u201cinexorableness of fate.\u201d One Russian writer discerned \u201csome dark\nspiritual experience\u201d in the Fifth. \u201cOnly at the close,\u201d he observed,\n\u201cthe clouds lift, the sky clears, and we see the blue stretching pure\nand clear beyond.\u201d Ernest Newman spoke of the sinister motto theme\nfirst announced in the opening movement as \u201cthe leaden, deliberate\ntread of fate.\u201d Many have agreed with Newman in classing the Fifth with\nthe Fourth as another \u201cfate\u201d symphony.\n           SYMPHONY IN B MINOR, NO. 6, OPUS 74 (_Pathetic_)\nFirst drafts of a sixth symphony\u2014not the _Pathetic_\u2014were made by\nTschaikowsky on his return trip from America in the late spring of\n1891. Dissatisfied with the way the new score was shaping up, he tore\nit up and congratulated himself on his \u201cadmirable and irrevocable\ndetermination\u201d to do so. It is not till February, 1893, that first\nmention is made of a fresh start on a sixth symphony. \u201cI am now wholly\noccupied with the new work,\u201d he writes excitedly to his brother Anatol.\n\u201cIt is hard for me to tear myself from it. I believe it comes into\nbeing as the best of my works. I must finish it as soon as possible,\nfor I have to wind up a lot of affairs....\u201d Subsequent events were to\ngive the last sentence of this letter a sinister note of prophesy. Like\nMozart writing the _Requiem Mass_ on his deathbed, Tschaikowsky seemed\nto be defying some unfriendly fate to stop him in the midst of his\ngreat symphony.\nThere was to be a program to this symphony, a mysterious, profoundly\npersonal program. But Tschaikowsky would never tell the world what\nit was. \u201cLet them guess who can,\u201d he challenged. Amid the beautiful\nnatural scenery of Klin, near Moscow, Tschaikowsky worked at his\nsymphony. Curiously enough, his mood was bright and cheerful for a\nchange. Early in October he left for Moscow to attend a funeral. There\nhe met his friend Kashkin and together they talked jovially of life\nand death. Tschaikowsky was in excellent spirits and Kashkin assured\nhim that he would outlive them all. Tschaikowsky laughed, and talked\nexcitedly about his new symphony, how he was satisfied with the first\nthree movements, how the finale still needed tinkering.\nAt length he was in St. Petersburg again. The day of the premi\u00e8re of\nhis symphony was approaching. Rehearsals were begun and Tschaikowsky\nsoon found reason to grow morose and pessimistic again. He had counted\non the musicians reacting warmly to this new music of his, but he\nbegan to notice cool faces, indifferent glances, and\u2014horror of\nhorrors\u2014yawns. This was too much for the hypersensitive Tschaikowsky.\nHe felt his hands suddenly become lifeless, his mind lose its\nalertness. His confidence ebbed from him. To spare the men any further\nboredom he cut short the rehearsal. Still, he knew he had written\nhis greatest symphony. At the premi\u00e8re of October 28th, the audience\nreceived the new symphony coolly, and it was not till shortly after\nTschaikowsky\u2019s death that it began to make a mighty, overpowering\nimpression on listeners wherever it was played.\nBut the symphony had been baptized without a name. Tschaikowsky felt\nthe term \u201cNo. 6\u201d was too bald and lonely a title for it. \u201cProgramme\nSymphony\u201d was also ruled out, for the good reason that he refused to\ndivulge the \u201cprogram.\u201d His brother Modeste suggested \u201cTragic,\u201d but\nTschaikowsky rejected that too. When Modeste left him, he went on\ncasting about for a title. In a flash it came to him. He rushed back\nto his brother. \u201cPeter,\u201d he exclaimed; \u201cI have it! Why not call it the\n\u2018Pathetic\u2019 symphony.\u201d Tschaikowsky pounced on the proposal eagerly:\n\u201cSplendid, Modi, bravo\u2014_Pathetic_!\u201d he shouted. In his brother\u2019s\npresence Tschaikowsky wrote on the score the name by which the symphony\nhas since been known. Most programs, however, give the title in its\nFrench form, _Symphonie Path\u00e9tique_.\nShortly after the conversation with his brother, Tschaikowsky attended\na performance of Ostrowsky\u2019s play, _A Warm Heart_. Later he went\nbackstage to pay his respects to the leading actor, Warlamoff. The\ntalk somehow turned to spiritualism, and again Tschaikowsky showed\na lighthearted mood. When Warlamoff laughingly ridiculed \u201cthese\nabominations which remind one of death,\u201d Tschaikowsky agreed jovially.\n\u201cThere is plenty of time before we have to reckon with this snub-nosed\nhorror. It will not come to snatch us off just yet! _I feel that I\nshall live a long time!_\u201d Five days later, Peter Ilyitch Tschaikowsky,\ngenerally regarded as Russia\u2019s greatest composer, was dead, one of\nthe many victims of the fearful cholera epidemic then raging in St.\nPetersburg.\nIf Tschaikowsky followed a definite emotional or philosophical program\nin the _Pathetic_ symphony, the key to it died with him. Had he lived,\nthe chances are he would have divulged it, since he was not by nature\na secretive, unconfiding man. However, many have probed the symphony\u2019s\ncontent and concluded it harbored a message of impending death. Yet\nKashkin, Tschaikowsky\u2019s close friend, interpreted the fierce energy of\nthe third movement and the abysmal sorrow of the Finale \u201cin the broader\nlight of a national or historical significance.\u201d He refused to narrow\ndown the scope of the symphony to a merely personal experience.\n\u201cIf the last movement is intended to be prophetic, it is surely of\nthings vaster and issues more fatal than are contained in a purely\npersonal apprehension of death,\u201d he said. \u201cIt speaks, rather, of\n_une lamentation large et souffrance inconnue_\u2014a large lamentation\nand unknown suffering. It seems to set the seal of finality on all\nhuman hopes. Even if we eliminate the merely subjective interest, this\nautumnal inspiration of Tschaikowsky\u2019s, in which we hear the _whirling\nof the perished leaves of hope_, still remains the most profoundly\nstirring of his works.\u201d\nI think we may safely agree with Kashkin\u2019s judgment, at the same time\nreserving the right to read into this monumental dirge, for such it\nunmistakably is, our own individual sense of its profoundly moving\ntheme of tragic resignation. That Tschaikowsky left it as a testament\nof disillusion and futility is likely. Yet no one can miss the fine\nvein of tenderness and the flashes of defiance recurring through it.\nFew artists have bequeathed the world such a candid, soul-searing\nself-portrait.\n                     COMPLETE LIST OF RECORDINGS\n               PHILHARMONIC-SYMPHONY SOCIETY OF NEW YORK\nLP\u2014Also available on Long Playing Microgroove Recordings as well as on\n                the conventional Columbia Masterworks.\n                 _Under the Direction of Bruno Walter_\n  BARBER\u2014Symphony No. 1, Op. 9\n  BEETHOVEN\u2014Concerto for Violin, Cello, Piano and Orchestra in C major\n        (with J. Corigliano, L. Rose and W. Hendl)\u2014LP\n  BEETHOVEN\u2014Concerto No. 5 in E-flat major (\u201cEmperor\u201d) (with Rudolf\n        Serkin, piano)\u2014LP\n  BEETHOVEN\u2014Concerto in D major for Violin and Orchestra (with Joseph\n        Szigeti)\u2014LP\n  BEETHOVEN\u2014Symphony No. 1 in C major, Op. 21\u2014LP\n  BEETHOVEN\u2014Symphony No. 3 in E-flat major (\u201cEroica\u201d)\u2014LP\n  BEETHOVEN\u2014Symphony No. 5 in C minor\u2014LP\n  BEETHOVEN\u2014Symphony No. 8 in F major\u2014LP\n  BEETHOVEN\u2014Symphony No. 9 in D minor (\u201cChoral\u201d) (with Elena Nikolaidi,\n        contralto, and Raoul Jobin, tenor)\u2014LP\n  BRAHMS\u2014Song of Destiny (with Westminster Choir)\u2014LP\n  DVORAK\u2014Slavonic Dance No. 1\n  DVORAK\u2014Symphony No. 4 in G Major\u2014LP\n  MAHLER\u2014Symphony No. 4 in G major (with Desi Halban, soprano)\u2014LP\n  MAHLER\u2014Symphony No. 5 in C-sharp minor\n  MENDELSSOHN\u2014Concerto in E minor (with Nathan Milstein, violin)\u2014LP\n  MENDELSSOHN\u2014Scherzo (from Midsummer Night\u2019s Dream)\n  MOZART\u2014Cosi fan Tutti\u2014Overture\n  MOZART\u2014Symphony No. 41 in C major (\u201cJupiter\u201d), K. 551\u2014LP\n  SCHUBERT\u2014Symphony No. 7 in C major\u2014LP\n  SCHUMANN, R.\u2014Symphony No. 3 in E-flat major (\u201cRhenish\u201d)\u2014LP\n  SMETANA\u2014The Moldau (\u201cVltava\u201d)\u2014LP\n  STRAUSS, J.\u2014Emperor Waltz\n              _Under the Direction of Leopold Stokowski_\n  COPLAND\u2014Billy the Kid (2 parts)\n  GRIFFES\u2014\u201cThe White Peacock,\u201d Op. 7, No. 1\u2014LP 7\"\n  IPPOLITOW\u2014\u201cIn the Village\u201d from Caucasian Sketches (W. Lincer and M.\n        Nazzi, soloists)\n  KHACHATURIAN\u2014\u201cMasquerade Suite\u201d\u2014LP\n  MESSIAN\u2014\u201cL\u2019Ascension\u201d\u2014LP\n  SIBELIUS\u2014\u201cMaiden with the Roses\u201d\u2014LP\n  TSCHAIKOWSKY\u2014Francesca da Rimini, Op. 32\u2014LP\n  TSCHAIKOWSKY\u2014Overture Fantasy\u2014Romeo and Juliet\u2014LP\n  VAUGHAN-WILLIAMS\u2014Greensleeves\n  VAUGHAN-WILLIAMS\u2014Symphony No. 6 in E minor\u2014LP\n  WAGNER\u2014Die Walk\u00fcre\u2014Wotan Farewell and Magic Fire Music (Act\n        III\u2014Scene 3)\n  WAGNER\u2014Siegfried\u2019s Rhine Journey and Siegfried\u2019s Funeral March\u2014(\u201cDie\n        G\u00f6tterd\u00e4mmerung\u201d)\u2014LP\n                 _Under the Direction of Efrem Kurtz_\n  CHOPIN\u2014Les Sylphides\u2014LP\n  GLINKA\u2014Mazurka\u2014\u201cLife of the Czar\u201d\u2014LP 7\"\n  GRIEG\u2014Concerto in A minor for Piano and Orchestra, Op. 16 (with Oscar\n        Levant, piano)\u2014LP\n  HEROLD\u2014Zampa\u2014Overture\n  KABALEVSKY\u2014\u201cThe Comedians,\u201d Op. 26\u2014LP\n  KHACHATURIAN\u2014Gayne\u2014Ballet Suite No. 1\u2014LP\n  KHACHATURIAN\u2014Gayne\u2014Ballet Suite No. 2\u2014LP\n  LECOQ\u2014Mme. Angot Suite\u2014LP\n  PROKOFIEFF\u2014March, Op. 99\u2014LP\n  RIMSKY-KORSAKOV\u2014The Flight of the Bumble Bee\u2014LP 7\"\n  SHOSTAKOVICH\u2014Polka No. 3, \u201cThe Age of Gold\u201d\u2014LP 7\"\n  SHOSTAKOVICH\u2014Symphony No. 9\u2014LP\n  SHOSTAKOVICH\u2014Valse from \u201cLes Monts D\u2019Or\u201d\u2014LP\n  VILLA-LOBOS\u2014Uirapuru\u2014LP\n  WIENIAWSKI\u2014Concerto No. 2 in D minor for Violin and Orchestra, Op. 22\n        (with Isaac Stern, violin)\u2014LP\n                _Under the Direction of Charles M\u00fcnch_\n  D\u2019INDY\u2014Symphony on a French Mountain Air for Orchestra and Piano\u2014LP\n  MILHAUD\u2014Suite Fran\u00e7aise\u2014LP\n  MOZART\u2014Concerto No. 21 for Piano and Orchestra in C major\u2014LP\n  SAINT-SAENS\u2014Symphony in C minor, No. 3 for Orchestra, Organ and\n               _Under the Direction of Artur Rodzinski_\n  BIZET\u2014Carmen\u2014Entr\u2019acte (Prelude to Act III)\n  BIZET\u2014Symphony in C major\u2014LP\n  BRAHMS\u2014Symphony No. 1 in C minor\u2014LP\n  BRAHMS\u2014Symphony No. 2 in D major\u2014LP\n  COPLAND\u2014A Lincoln Portrait (with Kenneth Spencer, Narrator)\u2014LP\n  ENESCO\u2014Roumanian Rhapsody\u2014A major, No. 1\u2014LP\n  GERSHWIN\u2014An American in Paris\u2014LP\n  GOULD\u2014\u201cSpirituals\u201d for Orchestra\u2014LP\n  IBERT\u2014\u201cEscales\u201d (Port of Call)\u2014LP\n  LISZT\u2014Mephisto Waltz\u2014LP\n  MOUSSORGSKY\u2014Gopack (The Fair at Sorotchinski)\u2014LP\n  MOUSSORGSKY-RAVEL\u2014Pictures at an Exhibition\u2014LP\n  PROKOFIEFF\u2014Symphony No. 5\u2014LP\n  RACHMANINOFF\u2014Concerto No. 2 in C minor for Piano and Orchestra (with\n        Gygory Sandor, piano)\n  RACHMANINOFF\u2014Symphony No. 2 in E minor\n  SAINT-SAENS\u2014Concerto for Piano and Orchestra No. 4 in C minor (with\n        Robert Casadesus)\u2014LP\n  SIBELIUS\u2014Symphony No. 4 in A minor\n  TSCHAIKOWSKY\u2014Nutcracker Suite\u2014LP\n  TSCHAIKOWSKY\u2014Suite \u201cMozartiana\u201d\u2014LP\n  TSCHAIKOWSKY\u2014Symphony No. 6 in B minor (\u201cPath\u00e9tique\u201d)\u2014LP\n  WAGNER\u2014Lohengrin\u2014Bridal Chamber Scene (Act III\u2014Scene 2)\u2014(with\n        Helen Traubel, soprano, and Kurt Baum, tenor)\u2014LP\n  WAGNER\u2014Lohengrin\u2014Elsa\u2019s Dream (Act I, Scene 2) (with Helen Traubel,\n        soprano)\n  WAGNER\u2014Siegfried Idyll\u2014LP\n  WAGNER\u2014Tristan und Isolde\u2014Excerpts (with Helen Traubel, soprano)\n  WAGNER\u2014Die Walk\u00fcre\u2014Act III (Complete) (with Helen Traubel, soprano\n        and Herbert Janssen, baritone)\u2014LP\n  WAGNER\u2014Die Walk\u00fcre\u2014Duet (Act I, Scene 3) (with Helen Traubel,\n        soprano and Emery Darcy, tenor)\u2014LP\n  WOLF-FERRARI\u2014\u201cSecret of Suzanne,\u201d Overture\n               _Under the Direction of Igor Stravinsky_\n  STRAVINSKY\u2014Firebird Suite\u2014LP\n  STRAVINSKY\u2014Fireworks (Feu d\u2019Artifice)\u2014LP\n  STRAVINSKY\u2014Four Norwegian Moods\n  STRAVINSKY\u2014Le Sacre du Printemps (The Consecration of the Spring)\u2014LP\n  STRAVINSKY\u2014Sc\u00e8nes de Ballet\u2014LP\n  STRAVINSKY\u2014Suite from \u201cPetrouchka\u201d\u2014LP\n  STRAVINSKY\u2014Symphony in Three Movements\u2014LP\n              _Under the Direction of Sir Thomas Beecham_\n  MENDELSSOHN\u2014Symphony No. 4, in A major (\u201cItalian\u201d)\n  SIBELIUS\u2014Melisande (from \u201cPelleas and Melisande\u201d)\n  SIBELIUS\u2014Symphony No. 7 in C major\u2014LP\n  TSCHAIKOWSKY\u2014Capriccio Italien\n               _Under the Direction of John Barbirolli_\n  BACH-BARBIROLLI\u2014Sheep May Safely Graze (from the \u201cBirthday\n        Cantata\u201d)\u2014LP\n  BERLIOZ\u2014Roman Carnival Overture\n  BRAHMS\u2014Symphony No. 2, in D major\n  BRAHMS\u2014Academic Festival Overture\u2014LP\n  BRUCH\u2014Concerto No. 1, in G minor (with Nathan Milstein, violin)\u2014LP\n  DEBUSSY\u2014First Rhapsody for Clarinet (with Benny Goodman, clarinet)\n  DEBUSSY\u2014Petite Suite: Ballet\n  MOZART\u2014Concerto in B-flat major (with Robert Casadesus, piano)\n  MOZART\u2014Symphony No. 25 in G minor, K. 183\n  RAVEL\u2014La Valse\n  RIMSKY-KORSAKOV\u2014Capriccio Espagnol\n  SIBELIUS\u2014Symphony No. 1, in E minor\n  SIBELIUS\u2014Symphony No. 2, in D major\n  SMETANA\u2014The Bartered Bride\u2014Overture\n  TSCHAIKOWSKY\u2014Theme and Variations (from Suite No. 3 in G)\u2014LP\n              _Under the Direction of Andre Kostelanetz_\n  GERSHWIN\u2014Concerto in F (with Oscar Levant)\u2014LP\n             _Under the Direction of Dimitri Mitropoulos_\n  KHACHATURIAN\u2014Concerto for Piano and Orchestra (with Oscar Levant,\n        piano)\u2014LP\n               _Under the Direction of Arturo Toscanini_\n  BEETHOVEN\u2014Symphony No. 7 in A major\n  BRAHMS\u2014Variations on a Theme by Haydn\n  DUKAS\u2014The Sorcerer\u2019s Apprentice\n  GLUCK\u2014Orfeo ed Euridice\u2014Dance of the Spirits\n  HAYDN\u2014Symphony No. 4 in D major (The Clock)\n  MENDELSSOHN\u2014Midsummer Night\u2019s Dream\u2014Scherzo\n  MOZART\u2014Symphony in D major (K. 385)\n  ROSSINI\u2014Barber of Seville\u2014Overture\n  ROSSINI\u2014Semiramide\u2014Overture\n  ROSSINI\u2014Italians in Algiers\u2014Overture\n  VERDI\u2014Traviata\u2014Preludes to Acts I and II\n  WAGNER\u2014Excerpts\u2014Lohengrin\u2014Die G\u00f6tterd\u00e4mmerung\u2014Siegfried Idyll\n               _Under the Direction of John Barbirolli_\n  DEBUSSY\u2014Iberia (Images, Set 3, No. 2)\n  PURCELL\u2014Suite for Strings with four Horns, two Flutes, English Horn\n  RESPIGHI\u2014Fountains of Rome\n  RESPIGHI\u2014Old Dances and Airs (Special recording for members of the\n        Philharmonic-Symphony League of New York)\n  SCHUBERT\u2014Symphony No. 4 in C minor (Tragic)\n  SCHUMANN\u2014Concerto for Violin and Orchestra in D minor (with Yehudi\n        Menuhin, violin)\n  TSCHAIKOWSKY\u2014Francesca da Rimini\u2014Fantasia\n              _Under the Direction of Willem Mengelberg_\n  J. C. BACH\u2014Arr. Stein\u2014Sinfonia in B-flat major\n  J. S. BACH\u2014Arr. Mahler\u2014Air for G String (from Suite for Orchestra)\n  BEETHOVEN\u2014Egmont Overture\n  HANDEL\u2014Alcina Suite\n  MENDELSSOHN\u2014War March of the Priests (from Athalia)\n  MEYERBEER\u2014Proph\u00e8te\u2014Coronation March\n  SAINT-SAENS\u2014Rouet d\u2019Omphale (Omphale\u2019s Spinning Wheel)\n  SCHELLING\u2014Victory Ball\n  WAGNER\u2014Flying Dutchman\u2014Overture\n  WAGNER\u2014Siegfried\u2014Forest Murmurs (Waldweben)\nTRANSCRIBER\u2019S NOTES\n* Italics indicated as _italics_.\n* Small caps changed to All caps.\n* Illustrations moved to nearest paragraph break\n* Copyright notice is from the printed exemplar. Copyright was not\n  renewed, the book is in the public domain.\n* p.8: \u201cSolennelle\u201d instead of \u201cSolenelle\u201d (typo)\n* p.7, 11, 13, 40 & 46: \u201cNadeshka\u201d or \u201cNadezhka von Meck\u201d, listed\n  elsewhere as \u201cNadezhda von Meck\u201d.\n* \u201cDesir\u00e9e\u201d (Art\u00f4t), usually \u201cD\u00e9sir\u00e9e\u201d (2x)\n* p.33: \u201cPath\u00e9tique\u201d instead of \u201cPathetique\u201d (typo)\n* p.33: \u201cespressivo\u201d instead of \u201cespressive\u201d (typo)\n* p.53: \u201cCosi fan Tutti\u201d kept, but should be \u201cCosi fan Tutte\u201d\n* p.54-56: \u201cSaint-Saens\u201d kept, but should be \u201cSaint-Sa\u00ebns\u201d (3x)\nEnd of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Tchaikowsky and His Orchestral Music, by \nLouis Biancolli\n*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TCHAIKOWSKY, HIS ORCHESTRAL MUSIC ***\n***** This file should be named 50230-0.txt or 50230-0.zip *****\nThis and all associated files of various formats will be found in:\nProduced by Stephen Hutcheson, Kris de Bruijn, Dave Morgan\nand the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at\nUpdated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will\nbe renamed.\nCreating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright\nlaw means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works,\nso the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United\nStates without permission and without paying copyright\nroyalties. 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{"source_document": "", "creation_year": 1937, "culture": " English\n", "content": "Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Dave Morgan and the Online\n  (Author of \u201cThe Analytical Concert Guide\u201d and co-author, with Robert\n                   Bagar, of \u201cThe Concert Companion\u201d)\n                   THE PHILHARMONIC-SYMPHONY SOCIETY\n                   THE PHILHARMONIC-SYMPHONY SOCIETY\n                   THE PHILHARMONIC-SYMPHONY SOCIETY\n                    [Illustration: Serge Prokofieff]\n_The principal lines which I followed in my creative work are these:_\n_The first is classical, whose origin lies in my early infancy when I\nheard my mother play Beethoven sonatas. It assumes a neo-classical\naspect in the sonatas and the concertos, or imitates the classical style\nof the eighteenth century, as in the Gavottes, the_ Classical Symphony,\n_and, in some respects, in the_ Sinfonietta.\n_The second is innovation, whose inception I trace to my meeting with\nTaneieff, when he taunted me for my rather \u201celementary harmony.\u201d At\nfirst, this innovation consisted in the search for an individual\nharmonic language, but later was transformed into a desire to find a\nmedium for the expression of strong emotions, as in_ Sarcasms, Scythian\nSuite, _the opera_ The Gambler, They are Seven, _the Second Symphony,\netc. This innovating strain has affected not only the harmonic idiom,\nbut also the melodic inflection, orchestration, and stage technique._\n_The third is the element of the_ toccata _or motor element, probably\ninfluenced by Schumann\u2019s Toccata, which impressed me greatly at one\ntime. In this category are the Etudes Op. 2, Toccata, Op. 11, Scherzo,\nOp. 12, the_ Scherzo _of the Second Piano Concerto, the Toccata in the\nFifth Piano Concerto, the persistent figurations in the_ Scythian Suite,\nLe Pas d\u2019acier, _and some passages in the Third Piano Concerto. This\nelement is probably the least important._\n_The fourth element is lyrical. It appears at first as lyric meditation,\nsometimes unconnected with melos, as in_ Fairy Tale, _Op. 3,_ R\u00e9ves,\nEsquisse automnale, _Legend, Op. 21, etc., but sometimes is found in\nlong melodic phrases, as in the opening of the First Violin Concerto,\nthe songs, etc. This lyric strain has for long remained in obscurity,\nor, if it was noticed at all, then only in retrospection. And since my\nlyricism has for a long time been denied appreciation, it has grown but\nslowly. But at later stages I paid more and more attention to lyrical\nexpression._\n_I should like to limit myself to these four expressions, and to regard\nthe fifth element, that of the grotesque, with which some critics are\ntrying to label me, as merely a variation of the other characteristics.\nIn application to my music, I should like to replace the word grotesque\nby \u201cScherzo-ness,\u201d or by the three words giving its gradations: \u201cJest,\u201d\n\u201claughter,\u201d \u201cmockery.\u201d_\nIt is given to few composers to become classics in their lifetime. Of\nthese few Serge Prokofieff was a notable example. At his death in Moscow\non March 4, 1953, he was a recognized international figure of long\nstanding, a favorite of concert-goers the world over, and in almost\nevery musical form, whether opera, symphony, concerto, suite, or sonata,\na securely established creator. Only two contemporaries could seriously\ndispute Prokofieff\u2019s dominant position in world music\u2014his own countryman\nDimitri Shostakovich and the Finnish Jean Sibelius. There were those who\nplaced him first. His passing was mourned inside and outside Russia by\nall who respond to fastidious artistry and the strange wizardry of\ncreative genius. Prokofieff had come to belong to the world. While his\nmusical and cultural roots were firmly planted in the land of his birth,\nhe had achieved a breadth and depth of expression that communicated to\nall. In the vast quantity of his output there is something for everyone\neverywhere\u2014for the child, for the grown-up, for the less musically\ntutored, and for the most sophisticated taste. Serge Prokofieff is\ndistinctly deserving of the word \u201cuniversal.\u201d His music knows no\nboundaries....\nSerge Prokofieff was born on April 23, 1891, in an atmosphere of music\nand culture at Sontsovka in the south of Russia, where his father\nmanaged a large estate. He seems to have begun composing almost before\nhe could write his own name, thanks to the influence and coaching of his\nmother, an accomplished pianist. At the age of five he had already put\ntogether a little composition called \u201cHindu Galop,\u201d and there is a\nphotograph of the nine-year-old boy seated at an upright piano with the\nscore of his first opera, \u201cThe Giant.\u201d Prokofieff himself has given us a\npicture of the boy and his mother in their first musical adventures\ntogether:\u2014\n\u201cOne day when mother was practising exercises by Hanon, I went up to the\npiano and asked if I might play my own music on the two highest octaves\nof the keyboard. To my surprise she agreed, in spite of the resulting\ncacophony. This lured me to the piano, and soon I began to climb up to\nthe keyboard all by myself and try to pick out some little tune. One\nsuch tune I repeated several times, so that mother noticed it and\ndecided to write it down.\n\u201cMy efforts at that time consisted of either sitting at the piano and\nmaking up tunes which I could not write down, or sitting at the table\nand drawing notes which could not be played. I just drew them like\ndesigns, as other children draw trains and people, because I was always\nseeing notes on the piano stand. One day I brought one of my papers\ncovered with notes and said:\n\u201c\u2018Here, I\u2019ve composed a Liszt Rhapsody!\u2019\n\u201cI was under the impression that a Liszt Rhapsody was a double name of a\ncomposition, like a sonata-fantasia. Mother had to explain to me that I\ncouldn\u2019t have composed a Liszt Rhapsody because a rhapsody was a form of\nmusical composition, and Liszt was the name of the composer who had\nwritten it. Furthermore, I learned that it was wrong to write music on a\nstaff of nine lines without any divisions, and that it should be written\non a five-line staff with division into measures. I was greatly\nimpressed by the way mother wrote down my \u2018Hindu Galop\u2019 and soon, with\nher help, I learned something about how to write music. I couldn\u2019t\nalways put my thoughts into notes, but I actually began to write down\nlittle songs which could be played.\u201d\nProkofieff also recalled how much his mother stressed the importance of\na love for music and how she tried to keep it unmarred by excessive\npractising. There was only a minimum of that hateful chore, but a\nmaximum of listening to the great classics of the keyboard. At first the\nlessons between mother and son were limited to twenty minutes a day.\nThis was extended to one hour when Prokofieff was nine. \u201cFearing above\nall the dullness of sitting and drumming one thing over and over,\u201d\nProkofieff wrote, \u201cmother hurried to keep me supplied with new pieces so\nthat the amount of music I studied was enormous.\u201d\nThis exposure to music continued when the family moved to Moscow. There\nProkofieff attended the opera repeatedly and soon developed a taste for\ncomposing for voice himself. One of these early efforts was submitted to\nthe composer Taneieff, who advised the family to send their son to\nReinhold Gliere for further study. This early attraction for the theatre\nwas later to culminate not only in several operas of marked originality\nbut in numerous scores for ballet and the screen. To the end Prokofieff\nnever quite lost his childhood passion for the stage. One has only to\nhear his music for the \u201cRomeo and Juliet\u201d ballet and the opera, \u201cThe\nLove of Three Oranges\u201d to realize how enduring a hold the theatre had on\nhim.\nEmboldened by Taneieff\u2019s reaction, the eleven-year-old boy next showed\nhim a symphony. Prokofieff himself told the story to Olin Downes, who\ninterviewed him in New York in 1919 for the \u201cBoston Post.\u201d Taneieff\nleafed through the manuscript and said:\u2014\u201cPretty well, my boy. You are\nmastering the form rapidly. Of course, you have to develop more\ninteresting harmony. Most of this is tonic, dominant and subdominant\n[the simplest and most elementary chords in music], but that will come.\u201d\n\u201cThis,\u201d said Prokofieff to Mr. Downes, \u201cdistressed me greatly. I did not\nwish to do only what others had done. I could not endure the thought of\nproducing only what others had produced. And so I started out, very\nearnestly, not to imitate, but to find a way of my own. It was very\nhard, and my courage was severely put to the test in the following\nyears, since I destroyed reams of music, most of which sounded very\nwell, whenever I realized that it was only an echo of some one\u2019s else.\nThis often wounded me deeply.\n\u201cEleven years later I brought a new score to Taneieff, whom I had not\nbeen working with for some seasons. You should have seen his face when\nhe looked at the music. \u2018But, my dear boy, this is terrible. What do you\ncall this? And why that?\u2019 And so forth. Then I said to him, \u2018Master,\nplease remember what you said to me when I brought my G-major symphony.\nIt was only tonic, dominant and subdominant.\u2019\n\u201c\u2018God in heaven,\u2019 he shouted, \u2018am I responsible for this?\u2019\u201d\nProkofieff was scarcely thirteen when another distinguished Russian\ncomposer entered his life\u2014and again by way of an opera score. Alexander\nGlazounoff was so impressed by a work entitled \u201cFeast During the Plague\u201d\nthat the boy was promptly enrolled at the St. Petersburg Conservatory.\nThat was in 1904. There he remained for ten years, among his teachers\nbeing Liadoff, Tcherepnin, and Rimsky-Korsakoff. From them he absorbed\nmuch of the prodigious skill as colorist and orchestrator that later\nwent into his compositions, besides a thorough schooling in the\nnationalist ideals of Russian music.\nAt the same time he was already feeling the urge to express himself in a\nbolder and more unorthodox style of writing. This rebelliousness was\nlater to lead to controversial clashes over several of his scores. By\nthe time he left the Conservatory in 1914, Glazounoff knew that\nProkofieff had wandered off into paths of his own. Yet he arranged for a\ntrial performance of Prokofieff\u2019s First Symphony. This proved crucial,\nfor it attracted the notice of an influential group of vanguard\nmusicians and, perhaps even more important, a publisher. Yet, when he\ngraduated, it was not as composer but as pianist, that Prokofieff\ncarried off first prize. Shortly after his graduation, Prokofieff\u2019s\nfather died, and when the First World War broke out later that summer,\nhe was granted exemption from military service because of his widowed\nmother.\nDuring the war years Prokofieff composed two works that would appear to\nbe at opposite extremes of orchestral style\u2014the \u201cClassical Symphony\u201d and\nthe \u201cScythian Suite\u201d. One is an unequivocal declaration of faith in the\nbalanced serenity and suavity of the Mozartean tradition, and the other\nrocks with an almost savage upheaval of barbaric power. Over both,\nhowever, hovers the iron control and superb sureness of idiom of a\nsearching intellect and an unfailing artistic insight. The two works\nrepresent two parts rather than two sides of a richly integrated\npersonality.\nThe revolution of February, 1917, found Prokofieff in the midst of\nrehearsals of his opera \u201cThe Gambler,\u201d founded on Dostoievsky\u2019s short\nnovel, to a text of his own. Production was indefinitely suspended\nbecause of the hardships and uncertainties of the social and political\nscene. Actually it was not till 1929 that the opera was finally\nproduced, in Brussels, Prokofieff having revised it from the manuscript\nrecovered from the library of the Maryinsky Theatre of Leningrad. When\nthe October Revolution had triumphed, Prokofieff applied for a passport.\nHis intention was to come to America, where he was assured a lucrative\nprospect of creative and concert work. The request was granted, with\nthis rebuke from a Soviet official:\u2014\n\u201cYou are revolutionary in art as we are revolutionary in politics. You\nought not to leave us now, but then, you wish it. We shall not stop you.\nHere is your passport.\u201d\nProkofieff proceeded to make his way to America, following an itinerary\nthat included Siberia (a small matter of twenty-six days), Hawaii, San\nFrancisco, and New York, where he arrived in August, 1918. A series of\nrecitals followed at which he performed several of his own compositions,\nand the Russian Symphony Orchestra featured some of his larger works.\nA picturesque and revealing reaction to both Prokofieff\u2019s piano-playing\nand music was that of a member of the staff of \u201cMusical America\u201d who was\nassigned to review the visitor\u2019s first concert at Aeolian Hall on\nNovember 20, 1918.\n\u201cTake one Schoenberg, two Ornsteins, a little Erik Satie,\u201d wrote this\nculinary expert, \u201cmix thoroughly with some Medtner, a drop of Schumann,\na liberal quantity of Scriabin and Stravinsky\u2014and you will brew\nsomething like a Serge Prokofieff, composer. Listen to the keyboard\nantics of an unholy organism which is one-third virtuoso, one-third\nathlete, and one-third wayward poet, armed with gloved finger-fins and\nyou will have an idea of the playing of a Serge Prokofieff, pianist.\nRepay an impressionist, a neo-fantast, or whatever you will, in his own\ncoin:\u2014crashing Siberias, volcano hell, Krakatoa, sea-bottom crawlers!\nIncomprehensible? So is Prokofieff!\u201d\nA commission for an opera from Cleofonte Campanini, conductor of the\nChicago Opera Company, was to result in what ultimately proved to be his\nmost popular work composed for America\u2014the humorous fairy-tale opera,\n\u201cThe Love of Three Oranges.\u201d Campanini, however, had died in the\ninterim, and it was Mary Garden, newly appointed director (she styled\nherself _directa_!) of the Chicago company, who undertook the production\nof the opera in Chicago in 1921. Its reception in Chicago and later at\nthe Manhattan Opera House was scarcely encouraging. Almost three decades\nwere to pass before a spectacularly successful production, in English,\nby Laszlo Halasz at the New York City Center gave it a secure and\nenduring place in the active American repertory.\nProkofieff next went to Paris, where he renewed ties with a group of\nRussian musicians and intellectuals, among them the two Serges who were\nto become so helpful in the development of his reputation as a dominant\nforce in modern music. These were Serge Diaghileff and Serge\nKoussevitzky. For Diaghileff he wrote music for a succession of ballets,\namong them \u201cChout\u201d (1921), \u201cPas d\u2019Acier\u201d (1927), and \u201cThe Prodigal Son\u201d\n(1929). Considerable interest was aroused by \u201cPas d\u2019Acier\u201d, which was\ntermed both a \u201clabor ballet\u201d and a \u201cBolshevik Ballet\u201d by various members\nof the press both in Paris and in London, where the work was given in\nJuly, 1927. It was a ballet of factories and firemen, of lathes and\ndrill-presses, of wheels and workers, and it brought Prokofieff the\ndubious title of composer laureate of the mechanistic age.\nKoussevitzky had begun his celebrated series of concerts in Paris in\n1921. This proved a perfect setting for the newcomer. Again and again\nthe programs afforded him a double hospitality as composer and pianist.\nKoussevitzky introduced the Second Symphony and when he later took up\nthe baton of the Boston Symphony, Prokofieff was among the first\ncomposers invited to appear on his programs in either or both\ncapacities. In 1929, on the fiftieth anniversary of the Boston Symphony,\nit was to Serge Prokofieff that Koussevitzky went for a symphonic score\nto commemorate the occasion. The resulting work was Prokofieff\u2019s Fourth\nSymphony. It was not till 1927 that Prokofieff, absent from his homeland\nfor nine years, decided to return, if only for a visit. Of this period\naway from home, Nicolas Nabokov, who knew Prokofieff well, had this to\nsay in an article written for \u201cThe Atlantic Monthly\u201d in July, 1942:\u2014\n\u201cFrom 1922 until 1926 Prokofieff lived in France and travelled only for\nhis annual concert tours. In Paris he found himself surrounded by a\nseething international artistic life in which the Russian element played\na great part, thanks mainly to Diaghileff and his Ballet. Most of these\npeople were expatriates, in various degrees opposed to the new regime in\ntheir motherland. Prokofieff had too close and too profound a relation\nwith Russia to lose himself in this atmosphere. He kept up his\nfriendships with those who stayed in Russia and those who were abroad by\nsimply putting himself, in a certain sense, outside of the whole\nproblem. It was interesting to watch how cleverly he succeeded in this\nposition. There was nothing strained or unnatural about it. He earned\nthe esteem of both camps and the confidence of everyone. From a\nproduction by the Ballet Russe of his latest ballet, Prokofieff would go\nto the Soviet Embassy, where a party would be given in his honor, and at\nhis home you would find the intellectuals arriving from Russia, among\nthem his great friend, Meyerhold, Soviet writers, and poets.\n\u201cIn 1927 he dug out his old Soviet passport and returned for a short\nwhile to Russia. As a result of this first trip came his ballet \u2018Pas\nd\u2019Acier\u2019. This was Prokofieff\u2019s greatest success in Paris. It coincided\nwith a turn in French public opinion toward Russia, with the beginning\nof the Five-Year Plan, and the increasing interest in Russian affairs\namong the intelligentsia of Western Europe. For several years to come\nProkofieff kept up the dual life of going to Russia for several months\nand spending the rest of the time in Paris, until finally the demands of\nhis country inwardly and outwardly became so strong that he decided\ndefinitely to return and settle in Moscow.\u201d\nProkofieff had again visited America in 1933. In New York, within the\nspace of a few days, he performed his Fifth Concerto with Koussevitzky\nand the Boston Symphony, and his Third Concerto with Bruno Walter and\nthe Philharmonic-Symphony. So many references have been made in these\npages to Prokofieff as his own soloist, that perhaps a few balanced\nwords from Philip Hale on the subject may be appropriate at this point.\nAfter having heard him several times in Boston, the late critic and\nannotator, declared:\u2014\n\u201cHis pianistic gifts are unusually great; there was reason for his being\nrecognized in America primarily as a pianist and only later on as a\ncomposer. Though possessed of all these exceptional attainments,\nProkofieff uses them within the rigid limits of artistic simplicity,\nwhich precludes the possibility of any affectation, any calculating of\neffect whereby an elevated style of pianism is sullied. In any case I\nhave never heard a pianist who plays Prokofieff\u2019s productions more\nsimply and at the same time more powerfully than the composer himself.\u201d\nProkofieff\u2019s return to Russia opened a new and active chapter of his\ncareer. Almost overnight he began to identify himself with the ideals of\nSoviet musical organizations insofar as they were concerned with\neducation and the fostering of a community feeling of cultural\nsolidarity. The attraction of the theatre was stronger than ever, and\nsoon he was composing operas, ballet scores, incidental music for plays,\nand music for films. Indeed, the composition that virtually reintroduced\nhim to the Russian public was the striking score for the film\n\u201cLieutenant Kije.\u201d This delighted one and all with its pungent wit and\nsatiric thrusts at the parading pomp and stiffness of the court of Czar\nPaul. Less successful was the first performance in Moscow in 1934 of a\n\u201cChant Symphonique\u201d for large orchestra. This drew the reproach that it\nechoed \u201cthe disillusioned mood and weary art of the urban lyricists of\ncontemporary Europe.\u201d\nAnother composition of this period was a suite prepared by Prokofieff\nfrom a ballet entitled, \u201cSur le Borysth\u00e8ne.\u201d Interest attaches to this\nballet because of a significant verdict pronounced by a Paris judge in\nProkofieff\u2019s favor. The ballet had been commissioned by Serge Lifar and\nproduced at the Paris Op\u00e9ra in 1933. The contract had stipulated one\nhundred thousand francs as payment for the work. Only seventy thousand\nfrancs were paid, and Prokofieff sued for the remainder. Lifar contended\nin court that the unfriendly reception accorded the production proved\nthe ballet was \u201cdeficient in artistic merit.\u201d The court\u2019s judgment,\nrendered on January 9, 1934, read in part: \u201cAny person acquiring a\nmusical work puts faith in the composer\u2019s talent. There is no reliable\ncriterion for evaluation of the quality of a work of art which is\nreceived according to individual taste. History teaches us that the\npublic is often mistaken in its reaction.\u201d\nProkofieff made his last trip to the United States in February, 1938. In\nseveral interviews with the press he laid particular stress on how\nRussia provided \u201ca livelihood and leisure\u201d for composers and musicians\nof all categories. Later, the League of Composers invited him to be\nguest of honor at a concert devoted entirely to his music. Prokofieff\nwas to have made still another visit to America late in 1940 on the\ninvitation of the New York Philharmonic-Symphony Society. The invitation\nwas accepted, but Prokofieff never came. The reason given was that he\ncould not secure the required visas. Prokofieff was to have conducted a\nseries of concerts with the Philharmonic-Symphony. The Society\naccordingly asked another distinguished Russian composer to direct the\nconcerts, a Russian who had not set foot in his native land since the\nRevolution\u2014Igor Stravinsky.\nProkofieff was again at work on an opera\u2014\u201cThe Duenna\u201d\u2014when his country\nonce more found itself at war with Germany. Both the opera and a new\nballet, \u201cCinderella\u201d, were immediately shelved, and Prokofieff dedicated\nhis energies and talents to expressing in music the determination of the\nSoviet people to resist the Nazi invasion and join in the world struggle\nto crush Fascism. Instead of light operas and fairy-tale ballets, he now\ncomposed a march, two war songs, and a symphonic suite \u201c1941,\u201d a title\nwhich explains itself. As the war dragged on with its deadening weight\nof horror, and its unprecedented drama of resistance, the feelings it\ngave rise to inspired Prokofieff to compose an opera based on Tolstoy\u2019s\nmonumental historical novel, \u201cWar and Peace.\u201d America learned of its\ncompletion on January 1, 1943 in a communication that conveyed New\nYear\u2019s greetings \u201cto our American friends on behalf of all Soviet\ncomposers.\u201d\nThe opera caused Prokofieff considerable trouble because of its\nunparalleled length. Cuts and revisions were made, scenes transposed and\nreplaced, and yet Prokofieff was never quite satisfied with the work.\nExcerpts were performed in Moscow, and again the music of Prokofieff\nbecame a bone of lively contention between those who thought he had\ncaptured the spirit of the novel and those who thought he had not. There\nwas general agreement, however, that Prokofieff had written a\nmagnificent and stirring tribute to Russian valor and patriotism.\nTogether with his music for the films \u201cIvan the Terrible\u201d and \u201cAlexander\nNevsky\u201d, the new opera offered an impressive panorama of Russian\nhistory. There are in \u201cWar and Peace\u201d eleven long scenes and sixty\ncharacters. The work was much too long for a single evening, and when it\nwas finally produced in Moscow in 1946, only the first part was\nperformed. A stage premiere had been promised in Moscow as early as\n1943, but technical difficulties caused its postponement. Plans for a\nMetropolitan production for the season of 1944-45 also had to be\nabandoned.\nIn 1945 Prokofieff composed his Fifth Symphony, which is considered by\nmany critics the greatest single achievement of his symphonic career.\nProkofieff has himself spoken of it as \u201cthe culmination of a large part\nof my creative life.\u201d The symphony was warmly received both in Russia\nand in America. It has generally been assumed that it depicts both the\ntragic and heroic phases of the world crisis and an unshaken confidence\nin final victory over Nazi barbarism. Prokofieff himself would provide\nno clue to its program other than that it was \u201ca symphony about the\nspirit of man.\u201d\nWhen Germany was at last defeated, Prokofieff\u2019s pen was again busy\ncelebrating the event. This time it was an \u201cOde to the End of the War\u201d,\nscored for sixteen double basses, eight harps and four pianos. In 1947\nProkofieff composed his Sixth Symphony, and it was shortly after its\nfirst performance that the Central Committee of the Communist Party\nissued its stinging denunciation of certain tendencies in the music of\nProkofieff and six other Soviet composers. The occasion of the official\nrebuke was a new opera by Vano Muradeli, \u201cGreat Friendship.\u201d This work\nwas found offensive as a distortion of history and a false and imperfect\nexploitation of national material. Having disposed of Muradeli, the\nCommittee concentrated its attack on the Symphonic Six\u2014Shostakovich,\nProkofieff, Khatchaturian, Shebalin, Popoff, and Miaskovsky.\n\u201cWe are speaking of composers,\u201d read the statement, \u201cwho confine\nthemselves to the formalist anti-public trend. This trend has found its\nfullest manifestation in the works of such composers [naming the six] in\nwhose compositions the formalist distortions, the anti-democratic\ntendencies in music, alien to the Soviet people and to its artistic\ntaste, are especially graphically represented. Characteristics of such\nmusic are the negation of the basic principles of classical music; a\nsermon for atonality, dissonance and disharmony, as if this were an\nexpression of \u2018progress\u2019 and \u2018innovation\u2019 in the growth of musical\ncomposition as melody; a passion for confused, neuropathic combinations\nwhich transform music into cacophony, into a chaotic piling up of\nsounds. This music reeks strongly of the spirit of the contemporary\nmodernist bourgeois music of Europe and America, which reflects the\nmarasmus of bourgeois culture, the full denial of musical art, its\nimpasse.\u201d\nLike the other six composers, Prokofieff accepted the rebuke and made\npublic acknowledgment that he had pursued paths of sterile\nexperimentation in some of his more recent music. He declared that the\nResolution of the Central Committee had \u201cseparated decayed tissue from\nhealthy tissue in the composers\u2019 creative production,\u201d and that it had\ncreated the prerequisites \u201cfor the return to health of the entire\norganism of Soviet music.\u201d\nProkofieff\u2019s _mea culpa_ was first contained in a letter addressed to\nTikhon Khrennikoff, general secretary of the Union of Soviet composers.\nIt had been Khrennikoff, who, in a semi-official blast at these\n\u201ctendencies\u201d had first hurled the charge of \u201cformalism\u201d at Prokofieff\nand his colleagues, Khrennikoff evidently had in mind certain patterns\nand formulas of the more extreme innovations of modern music, like\nArnold Schoenberg\u2019s twelve-tone row and the many flourishing European\nschools of atonality, dissonance, and startling instrumental groupings.\n\u201cComposers have become infatuated,\u201d said Khrennikoff, \u201cwith formalistic\ninnovations, artificially inflated and impracticable orchestral\ncombinations, such as the including of twenty-four trumpets in\nKhatchaturian\u2019s \u2018Symphonic Poem\u2019 or the incredible scoring for sixteen\ndouble-basses, eight harps, four pianos, and the exclusion of the rest\nof the string instruments in Prokofieff\u2019s \u2018Ode on the End of War.\u2019\u201d\nIn pleading guilty to the charge of formalism, Prokofieff attempted to\nexplain how it had found its way into his music:\u2014\n\u201cThe resolution is all the more important because it has demonstrated\nthat the formalist trend is alien to the Soviet people, that it leads to\nthe impoverishment and decline of music, and has pointed out with\ndefinitive clarity the aims which we must strive to achieve as the best\nway to serve the Soviet people. _Speaking of myself, the elements of\nformalism were peculiar to my music as long as fifteen or twenty years\nago. The infection was caught apparently from contact with a number of\nWestern trends._\u201d\nThe spectacle of one of the world\u2019s most cherished and gifted composers\nmaking apologetic obeisance to political officialdom was hardly a\ncomfortable one for observers outside Russia. The non-Communist press\npounced righteously on the Central Committee\u2019s resolution as an\narbitrary invasion of the sacred province of art. Charges of\nirresponsible government interference with the free workings of creative\nendeavor were widely made, and even writers who had been at least\nculturally sympathetic to the accomplishments of Soviet art and\neducation waxed indignant over the episode. Many wondered why\nProkofieff, of advanced musical craftsmen of our time perhaps the most\nclassical and even the most melodious, should have been singled out at\nall. This bewilderment was perhaps best expressed by Robert Sabin, of\nthe \u201cMusical America\u201d staff:\u2014\n\u201cHis music is predominantly melodious, harmonically and contrapuntally\nclear, formally organic without being pedantic, original but unforced\u2014in\nshort an expression of the basic principles of classical music.\n\u201cMany of the phrases in the Central Committee\u2019s denunciation are\nfantastically inappropriate to Prokofieff\u2019s art. Prokofieff has never\nespoused atonality. He is eminently a democratic composer. Peter and the\nWolf is loved by children and unspoiled adults the world over. His music\nfor the film Alexander Nevsky and the cantata he later fashioned from it\nhave been enormously popular. His suite Lieutenant Kij\u00e9, originally\ncomposed for another motion picture, charmed audiences as soon as it was\nheard, in 1934. On the contrary, among contemporary masters Prokofieff\nis precisely one whom we can salute as being close to the people, able\nto write music that is equally appealing to connoisseurs and less\ndemanding listeners, a man who understands the musical character of\nsimple human beings.\n\u201cPerhaps the outstanding psychological trait of Prokofieff\u2019s music has\nbeen its splendid healthiness. His Classical Symphony of 1916-17 bounds\nalong with exhilarating energy and spontaneity; and in his works of the\nlast decade, 1941-51, such as the ballet, \u2018Cinderella\u2019, the String\nQuartet No. 2, and the Symphony No. 5, we find the same fullness of\ncreative power, the same acceptance of life and ability to find it good\nand wholesome. Prokofieff belongs to the company of Bach and Handel in\nthis respect\u2014not to that of Scriabin and other composers whose genius\nhad been tinged with neurotic traits and a tendency to cultism.\u201d\nNothing deterred by this unprecedented official spanking, Prokofieff\nwent about his business, which was composing. The demands and\nnecessities of this post-war period of reconstruction in Soviet life\ndrew him deeper and deeper into the orbit of its community culture. A\nlarge proportion of his music became markedly topical and \u201cnational\u201d in\ntheme and orientation. Yet for all the strictures levelled at his music,\nand Khrennikoff was to scold him yet once more for \u201cbourgeois\nformalism\u201d, Prokofieff, in most essentials, followed the unhampered bent\nof his genius. Ballet music, piano and cello sonatas continued to show\nthat preoccupation with living and exciting form that in the best art\ncan be dictated only by the exigencies of the material. It is possible\nthat towards the very end Prokofieff had found a new synthesis that\nbrought to full flower the abiding lyricism of his nature. That he was\nnow determined to achieve an emotional communication through a lyrical\nsimplicity of idiom about which there could be no mystery or confusion\nis clear. How much of this was owing to any official effort to\ndiscipline him and how much to the inevitable direction of his own\ncreative logic it must remain for later and better informed students to\nassess.\nThe Seventh Symphony would seem to be a final testament of Prokofieff\u2019s\nreturn to this serene transparency of style. The new symphony was proof\nconclusive to the editors of \u201cPravda\u201d that Prokofieff \u201chad taken to\nheart the criticism directed at his work and succeeded in overcoming the\nfatal influence of formalism.\u201d Prokofieff was now seeking \u201cto create\nbeautiful, delicate music able to satisfy the artistic tastes of the\nSoviet people.\u201d\nProkofieff\u2019s death on March 4, 1953, the announcement of which was\ndelayed several days perhaps because of the overshadowing illness and\ndeath of Premier Stalin, came with the shock of an irreparable loss to\nmusic-lovers everywhere. A chapter of world music in which a strong and\nfastidious classical sense had combined with a healthy and sometimes\nstartling freshness of novelty, seemed to have closed. Dead at\nsixty-two, Serge Prokofieff had now begun that second life in the living\nmemorial of the permanent repertory that is both the reward and the\nlegacy of creative genius. It is safe to predict that so long as the\nconcert hall endures as an institution, a considerable portion of his\nmusic will have a secure place within its hospitable walls.\n [Illustration: _The picture of him with his wife and two children was\n                  taken when he was living in Paris._]\n               \u201c_Classical Symphony in D major, Opus 25_\u201d\n\u201cIf we wished to establish Prokofieff\u2019s genealogy as a composer, we\nwould probably have to betake ourselves to the eighteenth century, to\nScarlatti and other composers of the good old times, who have inner\nsimplicity and naivete of creative art in common with him. Prokofieff is\na classicist, not a romantic, and his appearance must be considered a\nbelated relapse of classicism in Russia.\u201d\nSo wrote Leonid Sabaneyeff, and it was the \u201cClassical Symphony\u201d more\nthan any other composition of Prokofieff that inspired his words, as it\nhas the pronouncements of others who have used this early symphony as an\nindex of the composer\u2019s predilections. Yet it is dangerous to so\nclassify Prokofieff, except insofar as he remained loyal to a discipline\nof compression and a tradition of craftsmanship that seemed the very\nantithesis of the romantic approach to music. Nor was Prokofieff\ninterested in imitating Mozart or Haydn in his \u201cClassical Symphony.\u201d\nWhatever has been written about his implied or assumed intentions, he\nmade his aim quite explicit. What he set out to do was to compose the\nsort of symphony that Mozart might have written had Mozart been a\ncontemporary of Prokofieff\u2019s; not, it is clear, the other way\naround\u2014that is, to compose the sort of symphony he might have written\nhad he, instead, been a contemporary of Mozart\u2019s.\nThe symphony was begun in 1916, finished the following year, and first\nperformed in Leningrad on April 21, 1918. Prokofieff conducted the work\nhimself when he appeared in Carnegie Hall, New York, at a concert of the\nRussian Symphony Society on December 11, 1918. The occasion was its\nAmerican premiere, and the \u201cClassical Symphony\u201d speedily became a\nfavorite of the concert-going public. And no wonder! It is music that\ncommends itself at once through a limpid style, an endearing precision\nof stroke, an unfailing wit of melody, and a general salon-like\natmosphere of courtly gallantry.\nI. _Allegro, D major, 2/2._ The first violins give out the sprightly\nfirst theme, the flutes following with a subsidiary theme in a passage\nthat leads to a development section. The first violins now chant a\nsecond theme, friskier than the first in its wide leaps and mimicked by\na supporting bassoon. Both major themes supply material for the main\ndevelopment section. There is a general review in C major, leading to\nthe return of the second theme in D major, the key of the movement.\nII. _Larghetto, A major, 3/4._ The chief melody of this movement is\nagain entrusted to the first violins after a brief preface of four\nmeasures. \u201cOnly a certain rigidity in the harmonic changes and a slight\nexaggeration in the melodic line betray a non-\u2018classical\u2019 feeling,\u201d\nwrote one annotator. \u201cThe middle section is built on a running pizzicato\npassage. After rising to a climax, the interest shifts to the woodwinds,\nand a surprise modulation brings back the first subject, which, after a\nslight interruption by a recall of the middle section, picks up an oboe\ncounterpoint in triplets. At the end the accompaniment keeps marching on\nuntil it disappears in the distance.\u201d\nIII. _Gavotte: Non troppo allegro, D major, 4/4._ This replaces the\nusual minuet in the classical scheme of things. One senses a scherzo\nwithout glimpsing its shape. The strings and the woodwinds announce the\ngraceful dance theme in the first part, which is only twelve measures\nlong in a symphony which lasts, in all, as many minutes. In the G major\nTrio that follows, flutes and clarinets join in sustaining a theme over\na pastoral-like organ-point in the cellos and double-basses. A\ncounter-theme is heard in the oboe. The first part returns, and the\nmovement is over in a flash.\nThe Gavotte was a widely used dance form in the music of the eighteenth\ncentury. It was said to stem from the Gavots, the people of the Pays de\nGap. Originally a \u201cdanse grave\u201d, it differed from others of its kind in\none respect. The dancers neither walked nor shuffled, but raised their\nfeet. The gavotte was supposedly introduced to the French court in the\nsixteenth century as part of the entertainment enacted by natives in\nprovincial costumes.\nIV. _Finale: Molto vivace, D major, 2/2._ A bright little theme,\nchattered by the strings after an emphatic chord, serves as principal\nsubject of this movement. A bridge-passage leads to a two-part second\nsubject, in A major, the first part taken up by the woodwinds in a\ntwittering melody (later passed to the strings), the second a\ncounter-theme for solo oboe. The material is briefly and lucidly\ndeveloped, and a recapitulation brings back the first section, with the\nwoodwinds assuming the theme over a web of string pizzicati. A miniature\ncoda follows, and there is a sudden halt to the music, as if at the\nprecise, split-second moment that its logic and breath have run out.\nOf Prokofieff\u2019s subsequent symphonies it is only the Fifth thus far that\nhas established itself with any promise of endurance in the concert\nrepertory. The First, composed in 1908 and not included in the catalogue\nof Prokofieff\u2019s works, may be dismissed as a student experiment. The\nSecond, following sixteen years later, proved a stylistic misfit of\nnoisy primitivism and even noisier factory-like mechanism. The Third, an\nimpassioned and dramatic fantasy, dating from 1928, drew on material\nfrom an unproduced opera, \u201cThe Flaming Angel.\u201d Prokofieff also tells us\nthat the stormy scherzo movement derived in part from Chopin\u2019s B-flat\nminor Sonata. The symphony was first performed in Paris on May 17, 1929,\nand carries a dedication to his life-long friend and colleague, the\ncomposer Miaskovsky. \u201cI feel that in this symphony I have succeeded in\ndeepening my musical language,\u201d Prokofieff wrote after his return to\nRussia and when the work had received its initial performances there. \u201cI\nshould not want the Soviet listener to judge me solely by the March from\n\u2018The Love of Three Oranges\u2019 and the Gavotte from the \u2018Classical\nSymphony.\u2019\u201d According to Israel Nestyev, Prokofieff\u2019s Soviet biographer,\nthe Third Symphony was \u201csomething of an echo of the past, being made up\nchiefly of materials relating to 1918 and 1919.\u201d\nWith the Fourth Symphony we come to what might be termed Prokofieff\u2019s\n\u201cAmerican\u201d Symphony. This was composed in 1929 for the Fiftieth\nAnniversary of the Boston Symphony. Much of the music harks back to the\nsuave and courtly style of the \u201cClassical\u201d Symphony, without its uniform\nelegance of idiom, however. It was certainly a change from an explosion\nlike the \u201cScythian\u201d Suite, that had fairly rocked the sedate and\ncultivated subscribers of Symphony Hall out of their seats.\nIt is the Fifth that constitutes Prokofieff\u2019s most ambitious\ncontribution to symphonic literature. It is a complex and infinitely\nvariegated score, yet its composition took a solitary month. Another\nmonth was given over to orchestrating the work, and somewhere in between\nProkofieff managed to begin and complete one of his most enduring film\nscores, that to Eisenstein\u2019s \u201cIvan the Terrible.\u201d The fact is that\nProkofieff had been jotting down themes for this symphony in a special\nnotebook for several years. \u201cI always work that way,\u201d he explained, \u201cand\nthat is probably why I write so fast.\u201d\nComposed during the summer of 1944, the Fifth Symphony was performed in\nAmerica on November 9, 1945, at a concert of the Boston Symphony\nOrchestra under the direction of Serge Koussevitzky. Five days later,\nunder the same auspices, it was introduced to New York at Carnegie Hall.\nProkofieff had himself directed the world premiere in Moscow in January\nof that year. At that time Prokofieff, asked about the program or\ncontent of the symphony would only admit that it was a symphony \u201cabout\nthe spirit of man.\u201d The symphony was composed and performed in Moscow at\na time of mounting Soviet victories over the German invaders. It seemed\ninevitable that a mood of exultation would find its way into this music.\nTo Nestyev the symphony captured the listeners \u201cwith its healthy mood of\naffirmation.\u201d Continuing, this Soviet analyst declared that \u201cin the\nheroic, manly images of the first movement, in the holiday jubilation of\nthe finale, the listeners sensed a living transmutation of that popular\nemotional surge ... which we felt in those days of victories over Nazi\nGermany.\u201d\nIn four movements, the Fifth Symphony is of basic traditional structure,\ndespite its daring lapses from orthodoxy. The predominant mood is heroic\nand affirmative, at times tragic in its fervid intensity, sombre\nrecurringly, but essentially an assertion of joyous strength, with\nmomentary bursts of sidelong gaiety reserved for the last movement. A\nterse and searching analysis of the Fifth Symphony was made by John N.\nBurk for the program-book of the Boston Symphony Orchestra. It reads:\n\u201cI. _Andante._ The opening movement is built on two full-voiced melodic\nthemes, the first in triple, the second in duple beat. Contrast is found\nin the alternate rhythm as both are fully developed. There is an\nimpressive coda.\n\u201cII. _Allegro marcato._ The second movement has earmarks of the\nclassical scherzo. Under the theme there is a steady reiteration of a\nstaccato accompaniment, 4/4. The melody, passed by the clarinet to the\nother woodwinds and by them variously treated, plays over the marked and\nunremitting beat. A bridge passage for a substantial wind choir ushers\nin (and is to usher out) the Trio-like middle section, which is in 3/4\ntime and also rhythmically accented, the clarinet first bearing the\nburden of the melody. The first section, returning, is freshly treated.\nAt the close the rhythm becomes more incisive and intense.\n\u201cIII. _Adagio. 3/4._ The slow movement has, like the scherzo, a\npersistent accompaniment figure. It opens with a melody set forth\n_espressivo_ by the woodwinds, carried by the strings into their high\nregister. The movement is tragic in mood, rich in episodic melody. It\ncarries the symphony to its deepest point of tragic tension, as\ndescending scales give a weird effect of outcries. But this tension\nsuddenly passes, and the reprise is serene.\n\u201cIV. _Allegro giocoso._ The finale opens _Allegro giocoso_, and after a\nbrief tranquil passage for the divided cellos and basses, gives its\nlight, rondo-like theme. There is a quasi-gaiety in the development,\nbut, as throughout the symphony, something ominous seems always to lurk\naround the corner. The awareness of brutal warfare broods over it and\ncomes forth in sharp dissonance\u2014at the end.\u201d\n            _The Sixth Symphony, in E-flat minor, Opus 111_\nIn a letter to his American publishers dated September 6, 1946,\nProkofieff announced that he was working on two major compositions\u2014a\nsonata for violin and piano and a Sixth Symphony. \u201cThe symphony will be\nin three movements,\u201d he wrote. \u201cTwo of them were sketched last summer\nand at present I am working on the third. I am planning to orchestrate\nthe whole symphony in the autumn.\u201d\nThe various emotional states or moods of the symphony Prokofieff\ndescribed as follows:\u2014\u201cThe first movement is agitated in character,\nlyrical in places, and austere in others. The second movement,\n_andante_, is lighter and more songful. The finale, lighter and major in\nits character, would be like the finale of my Fifth Symphony but for the\naustere reminiscences of the first movement.\u201d\nHow active and productive a worker Prokofieff was may be gathered from\nother disclosures in the same letter. Besides the Symphony and Sonata,\nhe was applying the finishing touches to a \u201cSymphonic Suite of Waltzes,\u201d\ndrawn from his ballet, \u201cCinderella\u201d, his opera, \u201cWar and Peace\u201d (based\non Tolstoy\u2019s historical novel), and his score for the film biography of\nthe Russian poet Lermontov. Earlier that summer he had completed three\nseparate suites from \u201cCinderella\u201d and a \u201cbig new scene\u201d for \u201cWar and\nPeace\u201d. No idler he!\nThe first performance of Prokofieff\u2019s Sixth Symphony occurred in Moscow\non October 10, 1947. Four months later, on February 11, 1948, the\nCentral Committee of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union issued its\nresolution denouncing Prokofieff and six other Soviet composers for\ntheir failure to \u201cpermeate themselves with a consciousness of the high\ndemands made of musical creation by the Soviet people.\u201d The seven\ncomposers were charged with \u201cformalist distortions and anti-democratic\ntendencies in music\u201d in several of their more recent symphonic and\noperatic works. It has been assumed that the Sixth Symphony was among\nthe offending scores which the Central Committee had in mind. While it\nwas not placed under the official ban, it did not figure subsequently in\nthe active repertory. To Leopold Stokowski, who conducted its American\npremiere with the New York Philharmonic on November 24, 1949, in\nCarnegie Hall, we owe the perceptive analysis of the Sixth Symphony that\nfollows:\u2014\nI. \u201cThe first part has two themes\u2014the first in a rather fast dance\nrhythm, the second a slower songlike melody, a little modal in\ncharacter, recalling the old Russian and Byzantine scales. Later this\nmusic becomes gradually more animated as the themes are developed, and\nafter a climax of the development there is a slower transition to the\nsecond part.\u201d\nII. \u201cI think this second part will need several hearings to be fully\nunderstood. The harmonies and texture of the music are extremely\ncomplex. Later there is a theme for horns which is simpler and sounds\nlike voices singing. This leads to a warm _cantilena_ of the violins and\na slower transition to the third part.\u201d\nIII. \u201cThis is rhythmic and full of humor, verging on the satirical. The\nrhythms are clear-cut, and while the thematic lines are simple, they are\naccompanied by most original harmonic sequences, alert and rapid. Near\nthe end a remembrance sounds like an echo of the pensive melancholy of\nthe first part of the symphony, followed by a rushing, tumultuous end.\u201d\nMr. Stokowski has also stated that the Sixth Symphony represents a\nnatural development of Prokofieff\u2019s extraordinary gifts as an original\ncreative artist. \u201cI knew Prokofieff well in Paris and in Russia,\u201d he\nwrites, \u201cand I feel that this symphony is an eloquent expression of the\nfull range of his personality. It is the creation of a master artist,\nserene in the use and control of his medium.\u201d\n                    _The Seventh Symphony, Opus 131_\nAt this writing the Seventh Symphony has yet to be heard in New York.\nIts American premiere by the Philadelphia Orchestra has been announced\nfor April 10, to be followed by its first performance in Carnegie Hall,\nby the same orchestra, on April 21, with Eugene Ormandy to conduct on\nboth occasions. The work was composed in 1952 and performed for the\nfirst time in Moscow on October 11, 1952, under the direction of Samuel\nSamosud. It is a comparatively short symphony as the symphonies of our\ntime go, lasting no more than thirty minutes. For Prokofieff the\norchestration is relatively modest and the division of the symphony is\nin the four traditional movements:\u2014\n  I. Moderato\n  II. Allegretto\n  III. Andante espressivo\n  IV. Vivace\nFrom first note to last it is a transparent score, lyrical, melodic, and\neasily grasped and assimilated. Recurring themes are readily identified.\n\u201cThe harmonic structure could hardly be called modern in this _anno\ndomini_ 1953,\u201d writes Donald Engle, \u201cand the scoring is generally open\nand concise, at times even spare and lean.\u201d\nThe overall impression is that the music has two inevitable points of\nbeing, its beginning and its end, and that the symphony is the shortest\npossible distance between them. Such, in a sense, has been the classical\nideal, and thus we find Prokofieff completing the symphonic cycle of his\ncareer by returning once more, whether by inner compulsion or outer\nnecessity, to a classical symphony.\n  _Concerto No. 1, in D-flat major, Opus 10, for Piano and Orchestra_\nProkofieff\u2019s first piano concerto was his declaration of maturity,\naccording to Nestyev. It followed the composition in 1911 of a one-act\nopera, \u201cMagdalene\u201d that proved little more than an advanced student\nexercise for the operatic writing that was to come later. That same year\nProkofieff completed his concerto and dedicated it to Nicolai\nTcherepnine. Its performance in Moscow early the following year,\nfollowed by a performance in St. Petersburg, served to establish his\nname as one to conjure with among Russia\u2019s rising new generation of\ncomposers. The work suggested the tradition of Franz Liszt in its\npropulsive energy and strictly pianistic language. But it revealed the\ncompactness of idiom and phrase, the pointed turn of phrase, and lithe\nrhythmic tension that were to develop and characterize so much of\nProkofieff\u2019s subsequent music. The Concerto brought a fervid response,\nbut not all of it was on Prokofieff\u2019s side. \u201cHarsh, coarse, primitive\ncacophony\u201d was the verdict of one Moscow critic. Another proposed a\nstraitjacket for its young composer. On the other side of the ledger,\ncritics in both cities welcomed its humor and wit and imaginative\nquality, not to mention \u201cits freedom from the mildew of decadence.\u201d A\nparticularly prophetic voice had this to say: \u201cProkofieff might even\nmark a stage in Russian musical development, Glinka and Rubinstein being\nthe first, Tschaikowsky and Rimsky-Korsakoff the second, Glazounoff and\nArensky the third, and Scriabin and Prokofieff the fourth.\u201d Daringly\nthis prophet asked: \u201cWhy not?\u201d[1]\nProkofieff was his own soloist on these occasions, and it was soon\napparent that besides being a composer of emphatic power and\noriginality, he was a pianist of prodigious virtuosity. \u201cUnder his\nfingers,\u201d ran one report, \u201cthe piano does not so much sing and vibrate\nas speak in the stern and convincing tone of a percussion instrument,\nthe tone of the old-fashioned harpsichord. Yet it was precisely this\nconvincing freedom of execution and these clear-cut rhythms that won the\nauthor such enthusiastic applause from the public.\u201d Most confident and\ndiscerning of all at this time was Miaskovsky, who, reviewing a set of\nFour Etudes by Prokofieff, challengingly stated: \u201cWhat pleasure and\nsurprise it affords one to come across this vivid and wholesome\nphenomenon amid the morass of effeminacy, spinelessness, and anemia of\ntoday!\u201d\nThe First Piano Concerto was introduced to America at a concert of the\nChicago Symphony Orchestra on December 11, 1918. The conductor was Eric\nDe Lamarter, and the soloist was again Prokofieff himself.\nThe Concerto is in one uninterrupted movement, Prokofieff considering\nthe whole \u201can allegro movement in sonata form.\u201d While the music ventures\namong many tonalities before its journey is over, it ends the way it\nbegan, in the key of D flat major. One gains the impression, though only\nin passing, of a three-movement structure because of two sections\nmarked, respectively, _Andante_ and _Allegro scherzando_, which follow\nthe opening _Allegro brioso_. Actually the _Andante_, a sustained\nlyrical discourse, featuring, by turn, strings, solo clarinet, solo\npiano, and finally piano and orchestra, is a songful pause between the\nexposition and development of this sonata plan. When the _Andante_ has\nreached its peak, the _Allegro scherzando_ begins, developing themes\nalready presented in the earlier section. One is reminded of the\ncyclical recurrence of theme adopted by Liszt in his piano concertos,\nboth of which are also in one movement, though subdivided within the\nunbroken continuity of the music.\n     _Concerto No. 2 in G minor, Opus 16, for Piano and Orchestra_\nThe Second Piano Concerto of Prokofieff belongs to the lost and found\ndepartment of music. It was written early in 1913, that is, two years\nafter the First Concerto, and performed for the first time, with\nProkofieff at the keyboard, on August 23 at Pavlovsk, a town not far\nfrom St. Petersburg. A performance, with the same soloist, took place at\na concert of the Russian Musical Society on January 24, 1915. Early the\nfollowing month Prokofieff left for Italy at the invitation of Sergei\nDiaghileff, who liked the Concerto and for a while even toyed with the\npossibility of using it for a ballet. On March 7, 1915 Prokofieff,\nthrough the intervention of Diaghileff, performed his Second Concerto at\nthe Augusteo, Rome, the conductor being Bernardino Molinari. The\nreaction of the Italian press was pretty much that of the Russian\npress\u2014divided. There were again those who decried Prokofieff\u2019s bold\ninnovations of color and rhythm and harmony, and there were those who\nhailed these very things. There was one point of unanimity, however. One\nand all, in both countries, acclaimed Prokofieff as a pianist of\nbrilliance and distinction.\nNow, when Prokofieff left Russia for the United States in 1918, the\nscore of the Second Piano Concerto remained behind in his apartment in\nthe city that became Leningrad. This score, together with the orchestral\nparts and other manuscripts, were lost when Prokofieff\u2019s apartment was\nconfiscated during the revolutionary exigencies of the period. Luckily,\nsketches of the piano part were salvaged by Prokofieff\u2019s mother, and\nreturned to him in 1921. Working from these sketches, Prokofieff partly\nreconstructed and partly rewrote his Second Piano Concerto. There is\nconsiderable difference between the two versions. Both the basic\nstructure and the themes of the original were retained, but the concerto\ncould now boast whatever Prokofieff had gained in imaginative and\ntechnical resource in the intervening years. Thus reshaped, the Second\nPiano Concerto was first performed in Paris with the composer as\nsoloist, and Serge Koussevitzky conducting. The following analysis, used\non that occasion, and later translated by Philip Hale and extensively\nquoted in this country, was probably the work of Prokofieff, who was\ngenerally quite hospitable to requests for technical expositions of his\nmusic.\nI. _Andantino-Allegretto-Andantino._ The movement begins with the\nannouncement of the first theme, to which is opposed a second episode of\na faster pace in A minor. The piano enters solo in a technically\ncomplicated cadenza, with a repetition of the first episode in the first\npart.\nII. _Scherzo._ This _Scherzo_ is in the nature of a _moto perpetuo_ in\n16th notes by the two hands in the interval of an octave, while the\norchestral accompaniment furnishes the background.\nIII. _Intermezzo._ This movement, _moderato_, is conceived in a strictly\nclassical form.\nIV. _Finale._ After several measures in quick movement the first subject\nis given to the piano. The second is of a calmer, more cantabile\nnature\u2014piano solo at first\u2014followed by several canons for piano and\norchestra. Later the two themes are joined, the piano playing one, the\norchestra the other. There is a short coda based chiefly upon the first\nsubject.\n     _Concerto No. 3, in C major, Opus 26, for Piano and Orchestra_\nProkofieff did not begin work on his Third Piano Concerto till four\nyears after he had completed the first version of his Second Concerto.\nThis was in 1917 in the St. Petersburg that was now Petrograd and was\nsoon to be Leningrad. However, a combination of war and revolution, plus\na departure for America in 1918, and the busy schedule that followed,\ndelayed completion of the work. It was not until October, 1921, in fact,\nthat the score was ready for performance, and that event took place at a\nconcert of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra on the following December 17.\nProkofieff was again the soloist, as he is once more his own annotator\nin the analysis that follows.\nI. The first movement opens quietly with a short introduction, Andante,\n4-4. The theme is announced by an unaccompanied clarinet, and is\ncontinued by the violins for a few bars. Soon the tempo changes to\nAllegro, the strings having a passage in semiquavers which leads to the\nstatement of the principal subject by the piano. Discussion of this\ntheme is carried on in a lively manner, both the piano and the orchestra\nhaving a good deal to say on the matter. A passage in chords for the\npiano alone leads to the more expressive second subject, heard in the\noboe with a pizzicato accompaniment. This is taken up by the piano and\ndeveloped at some length, eventually giving way to a bravura passage in\ntriplets. At the climax of this section, the tempo reverts to Andante,\nand the orchestra gives out the first theme, ff. The piano joins in, and\nthe theme is subjected to an impressively broad treatment. On resuming\nthe Allegro, the chief theme and the second subject are developed with\nincreased brilliance, and the movement ends with an exciting crescendo.\nII. The second movement consists of a theme with five variations. The\ntheme is announced by the orchestra alone, _Andantino_.\nIn the first variation, the piano treats the opening of the theme in\nquasi-sentimental fashion, and resolves into a chain of trills, as the\norchestra repeats the closing phrase. The tempo changes to Allegro for\nthe second and the third variations, and the piano has brilliant\nfigures, while snatches of the theme are introduced here and there in\nthe orchestra. In variation Four the tempo is once again _Andante_, and\nthe piano and orchestra discourse on the theme in a quiet and meditative\nfashion. Variation Five is energetic (Allegro giusto). It leads without\npause into a restatement of the theme by the orchestra, with delicate\nchordal embroidery in the piano.\nIII. The Finale begins (Allegro ma non troppo, 3-4) with a staccato\ntheme for bassoons and pizzicato strings, which is interrupted by the\nblustering entry of the piano. The orchestra holds its own with the\nopening theme, however, and there is a good deal of argument, with\nfrequent differences of opinion as regards key. Eventually the piano\ntakes up the first theme, and develops it to a climax.\nIV. With a reduction of tone and slackening of tempo, an alternative\ntheme is introduced in the woodwind. The piano replies with a theme that\nis more in keeping with the caustic humor of the work. This material is\ndeveloped and there is a brilliant coda.\nIt was Prokofieff\u2019s Third Piano Concerto that launched a young Greek\nmusician by the name of Dimitri Mitropoulos on a brilliant international\ncareer. Mr. Mitropoulos had been invited to Berlin in 1930 to conduct\nthe Berlin Philharmonic. Egon Petri, the celebrated Dutch pianist, was\nscheduled to appear as soloist in the Prokofieff Third. But Mr. Petri\nwas indisposed and no other pianist was available to replace him in time\nfor the concert. To save the situation Mr. Mitropoulos volunteered to\nplay the concerto himself. The result was a spectacular double debut in\nBerlin for the young musician as conductor and pianist. Engaged to\nconduct in Paris soon after, Mr. Mitropoulos again billed Prokofieff\u2019s\nThird Piano Concerto, with himself once more as soloist. This time he\nwas heard by Prokofieff, who stated publicly that the Greek played it\nbetter than he himself could ever hope to. Word of Mr. Mitropoulos\u2019s\nEuropean triumphs reached Serge Koussevitzky, who immediately invited\nhim to come to America as guest conductor of the Boston Symphony\nOrchestra. It is no wonder that Dimitri Mitropoulos often refers to this\nconcerto as \u201cthe lucky Prokofieff Third.\u201d\n           _Concerto No. 5, Opus 55, for Piano and Orchestra_\nBefore concerning ourselves with Prokofieff\u2019s Fifth Piano Concerto, a\nfew words are needed to explain this leap from No. 3 to No. 5. A fourth\npiano concerto is listed in the catalogue as Opus 53, dating from 1931,\nconsisting of four movements, and still in manuscript. A significant\nreference to its being \u201cfor the left hand\u201d begins to tell us a story.\nProkofieff wrote it for a popular Austrian pianist, Paul Wittgenstein,\nwho had lost his right arm in the First World War. Wittgenstein had\nalready been armed with special scores by such versatile worthies as\nRichard Strauss, Erich Korngold, and Franz Schmidt. Prokofieff responded\nwith alacrity when Wittgenstein approached him too. The Concerto,\nbristling with titanic difficulties and a complex stylistic scheme that\nwould have baffled two hands if not two brains, was submitted for\ninspection to the one-armed virtuoso. Wittgenstein disliked it\ncordially, refused to perform it, and thus consigned it to the silence\nof a manuscript.\nMaurice Ravel, approached in due course for a similar work, was the only\ncomposer to emerge with an enduring work from contact with this gifted\ncasualty of the war. However, he too had trouble. When completed, the\nConcerto was virtually deeded to the pianist. Wittgenstein now proceeded\nto object to numerous passages and to insist on alterations. Ravel\nangrily refused, and was anything but mollified to discover that\nWittgenstein was taking \u201cunpardonable liberties\u201d in public performances\nof the concerto.... Perhaps it was just as well that Prokofieff\u2019s Fourth\nPiano Concerto remained in its unperformed innocence\u2014a concerto for no\nhands.\nIt was not long before the mood to compose a piano concerto was upon\nProkofieff again. This became his Fifth, finished in the summer of 1932\nand performed for the first time in Berlin at a Philharmonic Concert\nconducted by Wilhelm Furtw\u00e4ngler. Prokofieff was the soloist. It is\ninteresting to note that the program contained another soloist\u2014the\ngentleman playing the viola part in Berlioz\u2019s \u201cChilde Harold Symphony,\u201d\na gentleman by the name of Paul Hindemith. There was a performance of\nthe Concerto in Paris two months later.\nWhen the concerto and the composer reached Boston together the following\nyear, Prokofieff gave an interviewer from the \u201cTranscript\u201d both a\ndescription of the way he composed and an analysis of the score. About\nhis method Prokofieff had this to say:\u2014\n\u201cI am always on the lookout for new melodic themes. These I write in a\nnotebook, as they come to me, for future use. All my work is founded on\nmelodies. When I begin a work of major proportions I usually have\naccumulated enough themes to make half-a-dozen symphonies. Then the work\nof selection and arrangement begins. The composition of this Fifth\nConcerto began with such melodies. I had enough of them to make three\nconcertos.\u201d\nHis analysis follows:\u2014\n\u201cThe emphasis in this concerto is entirely on the melodic. There are\nfive movements, and each movement contains at least four themes or\nmelodies. The development of these themes is exceedingly compact and\nconcise. This will be evident when I tell you that the entire five\nmovements do not take over twenty minutes in performance. Please do not\nmisunderstand me. The themes are not without development. In a work such\nas Schumann\u2019s \u2018Carnival\u2019 there are also many themes, enough to make a\nconsiderable number of symphonies or concertos. But they are not\ndeveloped at all. They are merely stated. In my new Concerto there is\nactual development of the themes, but this development is as compressed\nand condensed as possible. Of course there is no program, not a sign or\nsuggestion of a program. But neither is there any movement so expansive\nas to be a complete sonata-form.\nI. _Allegro con brio: meno mosso._ \u201cThe first movement is an _Allegro\ncon brio_, with a _meno mosso_ as middle section. Though not in a\nsonata-form, it is the main movement of the Concerto, fulfills the\nfunctions of a sonata-form and is in the spirit of the usual\nsonata-form.\nII. _Moderato ben accentuato._ \u201cThis movement has a march-like rhythm,\nbut we must be cautious in the use of this term. I would not think of\ncalling it a march because it has none of the vulgarity or commonness\nwhich is so often associated with the idea of a march and which actually\nexists in most popular marches.\nIII. _Allegro con fuoco._ \u201cThe third movement is a Toccata. This is a\nprecipitate, displayful movement of much technical brilliance and\nrequiring a large virtuosity\u2014as difficult for orchestra as for the\nsoloist. It is a Toccata for orchestra as much as for piano.\nIV. _Larghetto._ \u201cThe fourth movement is the lyrical movement of the\nConcerto. It starts off with a soft, soothing theme: grows more and more\nintense in the middle portion, develops breadth and tension, then\nreturns to the music of the beginning. German commentators have\nmistakenly called it a theme and variations.\nV. _Vivo: Piu Mosso: Coda._ \u201cThe Finale has a decidedly classical\nflavor. The Coda is based on a new theme which is joined by the other\nthemes of the Finale.\u201d\nSumming up his own view of the Concerto, Prokofieff concluded:\u2014\n\u201cThe Concerto is not cyclic in the Franckian sense of developing several\nmovements out of the theme or set of themes. Each movement has its own\nindependent themes. But there is reference to some of the material of\nthe First Movement in the Third; and also reference to the material of\nthe Third Movement in the Finale. The piano part is treated in\n_concertante_ fashion. The piano always has the leading part which is\nclosely interwoven with significant music in the orchestra.\u201d\nAfter this rather mild and dispassionate self-appraisal, it comes as\nsomething of a shock to read the slashing commentary of Prokofieff\u2019s\nSoviet biographer Nestyev:\u2014\n\u201cThe machine-like Toccata, in the athletic style of the earlier\nProkofieff, presents his bold jumps, hand-crossing, and Scarlatti\ntechnic in highly exaggerated form. The tendency to wide skips \u00e0 la\nScarlatti is carried to monstrous extremes. Sheer feats of piano\nacrobatics completely dominate the principal movements of the Concerto.\nIn the precipitate Toccata this dynamic quality degenerates into mere\nlifeless mechanical movement, with the result that the orchestra itself\nseems to be transformed into a huge mechanism with fly-wheels, pistons,\nand transmission belts.\u201d\nTo Nestyev it was further proof of the \u201cbrittle, urbanistic\u201d sterility\nof Prokofieff\u2019s \u201cbourgeois\u201d wanderings.\n    _Concerto in D major, No. 1, Opus 19, for Violin and Orchestra_\nAlthough composed in Russia between 1913 and 1917, Prokofieff\u2019s First\nViolin Concerto did not see the light of day till October 18, 1923, that\nis to say, shortly after he had taken up residence in Paris. It was on\nthat date that the work was first performed in the French capital at a\nconcert conducted by Serge Koussevitzky, who entrusted the solo part to\nhis concertmaster Marcel Darrieux. The same violinist was soloist at a\nsubsequent concert in the Colonne concert series, on November 25. It is\nsaid that the work was assigned to a concertmaster after Mr.\nKoussevitzky had been rebuffed by several established artists, among\nthem the celebrated Bronislaw Hubermann, who relished neither its idiom\nnor its technic. This attitude was shared by the Paris critics, who\nexpressed an almost uniform hostility to the concerto. Prokofieff\u2019s\narrival in Paris had already been prepared by his \u201cScythian Suite\u201d and\nThird Piano Concerto. The new work must evidently have struck Parisian\nears as rather mild and Mendelssohnian by comparison. In any case, the\nViolin Concerto did not gain serious recognition till it was performed\nin Prague on June 1 of the following year at a festival of the\nInternational Society for Contemporary Music. The soloist this time was\nJoseph Szigeti, and it was thanks in large part to his working\nsponsorship of the Concerto that it began to gather momentum on the\ninternational concert circuit. Serge Koussevitzky was again the\nconductor when the work was given its American premiere by the Boston\nSymphony Orchestra on April 24, 1925, and once more the soloist was a\nconcertmaster\u2014Richard Burgin.\nThe D major Violin Concerto shows the period of its composition in its\nfrequent traces of the national school of Rimsky-Korsakoff and\nGlazounoff. Despite the bustling intricacies of the second movement, it\nis not a virtuoso\u2019s paradise by any means. Bravura of the rampant kind\nis absent, and of cadenzas there is no sign. Neither is the orchestra an\naccompaniment in the traditional sense, but rather part of the same\nintegrated scheme of which the solo-violin is merely a prominent\nfeature.\nI. _Andantino._ The solo violin chants a gentle theme against which the\nstrings and clarinet weave in equally gentle background. There is a\nspirited change of mood as the melody is followed by rhythmic\npassage-work sustained over a marked bass. The first theme returns as\nthe movement draws to a close, more deliberate now. The flute takes it\nup as the violin embroiders richly around it.\nII. _Vivacissimo._ This is a swiftly moving scherzo, bristling with\naccented rhythms, long leaps, double-stop slides and harmonics, and\ndown-bow strokes, \u201cnone of which,\u201d Robert Bagar shrewdly points out,\n\u201cmay be construed as display music.\u201d\nIII. _Moderato._ More lyrical than the preceding movement, the finale\nallows the violin frolic to continue to some extent. Scale passages are\ndeveloped and high-flown trills give the violin some heady moments. The\nbassoon offers a coy theme before the violin introduces the main subject\nin a sequence of staccato and legato phrases. There are pointed comments\nfrom a restless orchestra as the material is developed. Soon the soft\nmelody of the opening movement is heard again, among the massed violins\nnow. Above it the solo instrument soars in trills on a parallel line of\nnotes an octave above, coming to rest on high D.\n     _Concerto in G minor, No. 2, Op. 63, for Violin and Orchestra_\nComposed during the summer and autumn of 1935, Prokofieff\u2019s second\nviolin concerto was premiered in Madrid on December 1 of that year.\nEnrique Arbos conducted the Madrid Symphony Orchestra, with the Belgian\nviolinist Robert Soetens playing the solo part. Prokofieff himself was\npresent and later directed the same orchestra in his \u201cClassical\nSymphony.\u201d Jascha Heifetz was the soloist when Serge Koussevitzky and\nthe Boston Symphony Orchestra first performed the new concerto in\nAmerica.\nTwenty-two years had elapsed since Prokofieff had composed his first\nviolin concerto in D, so comparisons were promptly made between the\nstyles and idioms manifested by the two scores. Apart from the normal\ndevelopment and change expected over so long a period, another factor\nwas emphasized by many. The G minor concerto marked Prokofieff\u2019s return\nto his homeland after a long Odyssey abroad. He was now a Soviet citizen\nand once more a participant in the social and cultural life of his\ncountry.\nThe new concerto revealed a warmth and lyricism, even a romantic spirit,\nthat contrasted with the witty glitter and grotesquerie of the early\nconcerto. The old terseness, rigorous logic, and clear-cut form were\nstill observable, though less pronounced. There were even flashes of the\n\u201cfamiliar Prokofieffian naughtiness,\u201d as Gerald Abraham pointed out. But\nthe new mood was inescapable. \u201cSo far as the violin concerto form is\nconcerned,\u201d wrote the English musicologist, \u201cProkofieff\u2019s formula for\nturning himself into a Soviet composer has been to emphasize the lyrical\nside of his nature at the expense of the witty and grotesque and\nbrilliant sides.\u201d\nThe daring thrusts, the crisp waggishness, the fiendish cleverness and\nsteely glitter seemed now to be giving way to warmer, deeper\npreoccupations, at least in the first two movements. \u201cThe renascence of\nlyricism, warm melody, and simple emotionality is the essence of the\nsecond violin concerto,\u201d writes Abraham Veinus. The earlier spirit of\nmockery and tart irreverence was almost lost in the new surge of\nromantic melody.\nI. _Allegro moderato, G minor, 4/4._ The solo instrument, unaccompanied,\ngives out a readily remembered first theme which forms the basis of the\nsubsequent development and the coda. The appealing second theme is also\nannounced by the violin, this time against soft rhythmic figures in the\nstring section. Abraham finds a \u201cdistant affinity\u201d between this second\ntheme and the Gavotte of Prokofieff\u2019s \u201cClassical Symphony.\u201d\nII. _Andante assai, E-flat major, 12/8._ The shift to frank melodic\nappeal is especially noticeable in the slow movement. Here the mood is\nalmost steadily lyrical and romantic from the moment the violin sings\nthe theme which forms the basic material of the movement. There is\nvaried treatment and some shifting in tonality before the chief melody\nreturns to the key of E-flat.\nIII. _Allegro ben marcato, G minor, 3/4._ In the finale the old\nProkofieff is back in a brilliant Rondo of incisive rhythms and flashing\nmelodic fragments. There are bold staccato effects, tricky shifts in\nrhythm, and brisk repartee between violin and orchestra. If there is any\nobvious link with the earlier concerto in D it is here in this\nvirtuoso\u2019s playground.\n     _\u201cAla and Lolly\u201d, Scythian Suite for Large Orchestra, Opus 20_\nIt has been supposed that, consciously or not, Prokofieff was influenced\nby Stravinsky\u2019s \u201cSacre de Printemps\u201d in his choice and treatment of\nmaterial for the \u201cScythian Suite.\u201d Both scores have an earthy, barbaric\nquality, a stark rhythmic pulsation and an atmosphere of remote pagan\nritualism that establish a strong kinship, whether direct or not. In\neach instance, moreover, the subject matter allowed the composer ample\nscope for exploiting fresh devices of harmony and color. Another point\nof contact between the two scores was the figure of Serge Diaghileff,\nthat fabulous patron and gadfly of modern art. Stravinsky had already\nbeen brought into the camp of Russian ballet by this most persuasive of\nall ballet impressarios. Soon it was Prokofieff\u2019s turn. Diaghileff\u2019s\ncommission was a ballet \u201con Russian fairy-tale or prehistoric themes.\u201d\nThe \u201cScythian\u201d music was Prokofieff\u2019s answer. The encounter with\nDiaghileff had occurred in June, 1914. With the outbreak of war later\nthat year, an unavoidable delay set in, and it was evidently not till\nearly the next year that Prokofieff submitted what was ready to\nDiaghileff, who liked neither the plot nor the music. To compensate him\nfor his pains Diaghileff did two things: The first was to arrange for\nProkofieff to play his Second Piano Concerto in Rome, an experience that\nproved profitable in every sense. The second was to commission another\nballet, with the injunction to \u201cwrite music that will be truly Russian.\u201d\nTo which the candid Diaghileff added:\u2014\u201cThey\u2019ve forgotten how to write\nmusic in that rotten St. Petersburg of yours.\u201d The result was \u201cThe\nBuffoon,\u201d a ballet which proved more palatable to Diaghileff and led to\na mutually fruitful association of many years.\nWhat was to have been the \u201cScythian\u201d ballet became instead, an\norchestral suite, the premiere of which took place in St. Petersburg on\nJanuary 29, 1916, Prokofieff himself conducting. More than any other\nscore of Prokofieff\u2019s, the \u201cScythian Suite\u201d was responsible for the\nacrimonious note that long remained in the reaction of the press to his\nmusic. \u201cCacophony\u201d became a frequent word in the vocabulary of invective\nfavored by hostile critics. Prokofieff was accused of breaking every\nmusical law and violating every tenet of good taste. His music was\n\u201cnoisy,\u201d \u201crowdy,\u201d \u201cbarbarous,\u201d an expression of irresponsible\nhooliganism in symphonic form. Glazounoff, friend and teacher and guide,\nwalked out on the first performance of \u201cThe Scythian Suite.\u201d But there\nwere those among the critics and public who recognized the confident\npower and proclamative freedom of this music, and so a merry war of\nwords, written and spoken, brewed over a score that Diaghileff, in a\nmoment of singular insensitivity, had dismissed as \u201cdull.\u201d Whatever else\nthis music was\u2014and it was almost everything from a signal for angry\nstampedes from the concert hall to an open declaration of war\u2014it was\nemphatically not dull! Even the word \u201cBolshevism\u201d was hurled at the\nscore when it reached these placid shores late in 1918. In Chicago, one\ncritic wrote: \u201cThe red flag of anarchy waved tempestuously over old\nOrchestra Hall yesterday as Bolshevist melodies floated over the waves\nof a sea of sound in breath-taking cacophony.\u201d Dull, indeed!\nOf the original Scythians whose strange customs were the subject of\nProkofieff\u2019s controversial suite, Robert Bagar tells us succinctly:\n\u201cFirst believed to have been mentioned by the poet Hesiod (800 B.C.),\nthe Scythians were a nomadic people dwelling along the north shore of\nthe Black Sea. Probably of Mongol blood, this race vanished about 100\nB.C. Herodotus tells us that they were rather an evil lot, given to very\nprimitive customs, fat and flabby in appearance, and living under a\ndespotic rule whose laws, such as they may have been, were enforced\nthrough the ever-present threat of assassination.\n\u201cThere were gods, of course, each in charge of some aspect or other of\nspiritual or human or moral conduct\u2014a sun god, a health god, a heaven\ngod, an evil god and quite a few others. Veles, the god of the sun, was\ntheir supreme deity. His daughter was Ala, and Lolli was one of their\ngreat heroes.\u201d\nProkofieff\u2019s Suite is based on the story of Ala, her suffering in the\ntoils of the Evil God, and her deliverance by Lolli. The suite is\ndivided into four movements, brief outlines of which are furnished in\nthe score.\nI. \u201c_Invocation to Veles and Ala._\u201d (_Allegro feroce, 4/4._) The music\ndescribes an invocation to the sun, worshipped by the Scythians as their\nhighest deity, named Veles. This invocation is followed by the sacrifice\nto the beloved idol, Ala, the daughter of Veles.\nII. \u201c_The Evil-God and dance of the pagan monsters._\u201d (_Allegro\nsostenuto, 4-4_.) The Evil-God summons the seven pagan monsters from\ntheir subterranean realms and, surrounded by them, dances a delirious\ndance.\nIII. \u201c_Night._\u201d (_Andantino, 4-4._) The Evil-God comes to Ala in the\ndarkness. Great harm befalls her. The moon rays fall upon Ala, and the\nmoon-maidens descend to bring her consolation.\nIV. \u201c_Lolli\u2019s pursuit of the Evil-God and the sunrise._\u201d (_Tempestuoso,\n4-4._) Lolli, a Scythian hero, went forth to save Ala. He fights the\nEvil-God. In the uneven battle with the latter, Lolli would have\nperished, but the sun-god rises with the passing of night and smites the\nevil deity. With the description of the sunrise the Suite comes to an\nend.\n      _Orchestral Suite from the Film, \u201cLieutenant Kije,\u201d Opus 60_\nThe Soviet film, \u201cLieutenant Kije\u201d, was produced by the Belgoskino\nStudios of Leningrad in 1933, after a story by Y. Tynyanov that had\nbecome a classic of the new literature. The director was A. Feinzimmer.\nFor Prokofieff, who supplied the music, it represented the first\nimportant work of his return to Russia. The music belongs with that for\n\u201cAlexander Nevsky\u201d and \u201cIvan the Terrible\u201d as the most effective and\ncharacteristic Prokofieff composed for the Soviet screen. From that\nscore Prokofieff assembled an orchestral suite which was published early\nin 1934 and performed later that year in Moscow. Prokofieff himself\nconducted its Parisian premiere at a Lamoureux concert on February 20,\n1937, when, according to an English correspondent, it \u201cmade a stunning\nimpression.\u201d Serge Koussevitzky introduced it to America at a concert of\nthe Boston Symphony Orchestra on October 15 of the same year.\nThe film tells an ironic and amusing story of a Russian officer, who\nbecause of a clerical error, existed only on paper. The setting is that\nof St. Petersburg during the reign of Czar Paul. The Czar misreads the\nreport of one of his military aides, and without meaning to, evolves the\nname of a non-existent lieutenant. He does this by inadvertently linking\nthe \u201cki\u201d at the end of another officer\u2019s name to the Russian expletive\n\u201cje.\u201d The result is the birth\u2014on paper\u2014of a new officer in the Russian\nArmy, \u201cLieutenant Kije.\u201d Since no one dares to tell the Czar of his\nabsurd blunder, his courtiers are obliged to invent a \u201cLieutenant Kije\u201d\nto go with the name. Such being the situation, the film is an\nenlargement on the expedients and subterfuges arising from it. There are\nfive sections:\u2014\nI. _Birth of Kije._ (_Allegro._) A combination of off-stage cornet\nfanfare, military drum-roll, and squealings from a fife proclaim that\nLieutenant Kije is born\u2014in the brain of blundering Czar. The solemn\nannouncement is taken up by other instruments, followed by a short\n_Andante_ section, and presently the military clatter of the opening is\nback.\nII. _Romance._ (_Andante._) This section contains a song, assigned\noptionally to baritone voice or tenor saxophone. The text of the song,\nin translation, reads:\u2014\n  \u201cHeart be calm, do not flutter;\n  Don\u2019t keep flying like a butterfly.\n  Well, what has my heart decided?\n  Where will we in summer rest?\n  But my heart could answer nothing,\n  Beating fast in my poor breast.\n  My grey dove is full of sorrow\u2014\n  Moaning is she day and night.\n  For her dear companion left her,\n  Having vanished out of sight,\n  Sad and dull has gotten my grey dove.\u201d\nIII. _Kije\u2019s Wedding._ (_Allegro._) This section reminds us that\nalthough our hero is truly a soldier, like so many of his calling he is\nalso susceptible to the claims of the heart. In fact, he is quite a\ndashing lover, not without a touch of sentimentality.\nIV. _Troika._ (_Moderato._) The Russian word \u201cTroika\u201d means a set of\nthree, then, by extension, a team of three horses abreast, finally, a\nthree-horse sleigh. This section is so named because the orchestra\npictures such a vehicle as accompaniment to a second song, in this case\na Russian tavern song. Its words, as rendered from the Russian, go:\n  \u201cA woman\u2019s heart is like an inn:\n  All those who wish go in,\n  And they who roam about\n  Day and night go in and out.\n  Come here, I say; come here, I say,\n  And have no fear with me.\n  Be you bachelor or not,\n  Be you shy or be you bold,\n  I call you all to come here.\n  So all those who are about,\n  Keep going in and coming out,\n  Night and day they roam about.\u201d\nV. _Burial of Kije._ (_Andante assai_.) Thus ends the paper career of\nour valiant hero. The music recalls his birth to a flourish of military\nsounds, his romance, his wedding. And now the cornet that had blithely\nannounced his coming in an off-stage fanfare is muted to his going, as\nLieutenant Kije dwindles to his final silence.\n     _Music for the Ballet, \u201cRomeo and Juliet,\u201d Opus 64-A and 64-B_\nAs a ballet in four acts and nine tableaux, Prokofieff\u2019s \u201cRomeo and\nJuliet\u201d was first produced by the Bolshoi Theatre in Moscow in 1935.\nLike many standard Russian ballets, the performance took a whole\nevening. Prokofieff assembled two Suites from the music, the first\npremiered in Moscow on November 24, 1936, under the direction of Nicolas\nSemjonowitsch Golowanow. The premiere of the second suite followed less\nthan a month later.\nProkofieff himself directed the American premieres of both Suites, of\nSuite No. 1 as guest of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra on January 21,\n1937, and of Suite No. 2 as guest of the Boston Symphony Orchestra on\nMarch 25, 1938. Serge Koussevitzky and the Boston unit introduced the\nSuite to New York on March 31 following.\nAfter a trial performance of the ballet in Moscow V. V. Konin reported\nto the \u201cMusical Courier\u201d that Soviet critics present were \u201cleft in\ndismay at the awkward incongruity between the realistic idiom of the\nmusical language, a language which successfully characterizes the\nindividualism of the Shakespearean images, and the blind submission to\nthe worst traditions of the old form, as revealed in the libretto.\u201d\nFault was also found because \u201cthe social atmosphere of the period and\nthe natural evolution of its tragic elements had been robbed of their\nlogical culmination and brought to the ridiculously dissonant \u2018happy\nend\u2019 of the conventional ballet. This inconsistency in the development\nof the libretto has had an unfortunate effect, not only upon the general\nstructure, but even upon the otherwise excellent musical score.\u201d\nCritical reaction to both Suites has varied, some reviewers finding the\nmusic dry and insipid for such a romantic theme; others hailing its\npungency and color. Prokofieff\u2019s classicism was compared with his\nromanticism. If we are prepared to accept the \u201cClassical\u201d Symphony as\ntruly classical, said one critic, then we must accept the \u201cRomeo and\nJuliet\u201d music as truly romantic. The cold, cheerless, dreary music \u201cis\ncertainly not love music,\u201d read one verdict. Prokofieff was taken to\ntask for describing a love story \u201cas if it were an algebraic problem.\u201d\nSaid Olin Downes of \u201cThe New York Times\u201d in his review of the Boston\nSymphony concert of March 31, 1938:\u2014\u201cThe music is predominantly\nsatirical.... There is the partial suggestion of that which is poignant\nand tragic, but there is little of the sensuous or emotional, and in the\nmain the music could bear almost any title and still serve the ballet\nevolutions and have nothing to do with Romeo and Juliet.\u201d\nOthers extolled Prokofieff for the \u201cfundamental simplicity and buoyancy\u201d\nof the music, finding it typically rooted in the \u201cplane, tangible\nrealities of tone, design, and color.\u201d Prokofieff himself answered the\nrepeated charge that his score lacked feeling and melody:\u2014\n\u201cEvery now and then somebody or other starts urging me to put more\nfeeling, more emotion, more melody in my music. My own conviction is\nthat there is plenty of all that in it. I have never shunned the\nexpression of feeling and have always been intent on creating melody\u2014but\nnew melody, which perhaps certain listeners do not recognize as such\nsimply because it does not resemble closely enough the kind of melody to\nwhich they are accustomed.\n\u201cIn \u2018Romeo and Juliet\u2019 I have taken special pains to achieve a\nsimplicity which will, I hope, reach the hearts of all listeners. If\npeople find no melody and no emotion in this work, I shall be very\nsorry. But I feel sure that sooner or later they will.\u201d\nIn the First Suite which Prokofieff prepared for concert purposes, there\nare seven numbers, outlined as follows:\u20141) \u201cFolk Dance\u201d; 2) \u201cScene\u201d; 3)\n\u201cMadrigal\u201d; 4) \u201cMinuet\u201d; 5) \u201cMasques\u201d; 6) \u201cRomeo and Juliet\u201d; and 7)\n\u201cThe Death of Tybalt\u201d. Perhaps the most significant and absorbing of\nthese is \u201cMasques\u201d, an _Andante marciale_ of majestic sweep and power,\nwhich accompanies the action at the Capulet ball, leading to the\nunobserved entrance into the palace of Romeo and two friends, wearing\nmasks. One senses a brooding, sinister prophecy in the measured\nstateliness of the music. Searing and incisive in its pitiless evocation\nis \u201cThe Death of Tybalt\u201d, marked _Precipitato_ in the score. Both street\nduels are depicted in this section, the first in which Tybalt slays\nMercutio, the other in which Romeo, in revenge, slays Tybalt. Capulet\u2019s\ndenunciation follows. This First Suite is listed as Opus 64-A in the\ncatalogue of Prokofieff\u2019s works.\nThe Second Suite, Opus 64-B, also consists of seven numbers:\u2014\n1) \u201c_Montagues and Capulets_\u201d. (_Allegro pesante_). This is intended to\nportray satirically the proud, haughty characters of the noblemen. There\nis a _Trio_ in which Juliet and Paris are pictured as dancing.\n2) \u201c_Juliet, the Maiden_\u201d. (_Vivace_). The main theme portrays the\ninnocent and lighthearted Juliet, tender and free of suspicion. As the\nsection develops we sense a gradual deepening of her feelings.\n3) \u201c_Friar Laurence_\u201d. (_Andante espressivo_). Two themes are used to\nidentify the Friar\u2014bassoons, tuba, and harps announce the first;\n\u2019cellos, the second.\n5) \u201c_The Parting of Romeo and Juliet_\u201d. (_Lento. Poco piu animato_). An\nelaborately worked out fabric woven mainly from the theme of Romeo\u2019s\nlove for Juliet.\n6) \u201c_Dance of the West Indian Slave Girls_\u201d. (_Andante con eleganza_).\nThe section accompanies both the action of Paris presenting pearls to\nJuliet and slave girls dancing with the pearls.\n7) \u201c_Romeo at Juliet\u2019s Grave_\u201d. (_Adagio funebre_). Prokofieff captures\nthe anguish and pathos of the heartbreaking blunder that is the ultimate\nin tragedy: Juliet is not really dead, and her tomb is only that in\nappearance\u2014but for Romeo the illusion is reality and his grief is\nunbounded.\nProkofieff\u2019s original plan was to give \u201cRomeo and Juliet\u201d a happy\nending, its first since the time of Shakespeare. Juliet was to be\nawakened in time to prevent Romeo\u2019s suicide, and the ballet would end\nwith a dance of jubilation by the reunited lovers. Criticism was\nwidespread and sharp when this modification of Shakespeare\u2019s drama was\nexhibited at a trial showing. All thought of a happy ending was promptly\nabandoned, and Prokofieff put the tragic seal of death on the finale of\nhis ballet.\n _\u201cPeter and the Wolf,\u201d An Orchestral Fairy Tale for Children, Opus 67_\nAs early in his career as 1914 Prokofieff made his first venture in the\nenchanted world of children\u2019s entertainment. This was a cycle for voice\nand piano (or orchestra) grouped under the general title of \u201cThe Ugly\nDuckling,\u201d after Andersen\u2019s fairy-tale. It was not till twenty-two years\nlater that he returned to this vein and achieved a masterpiece for the\nyoung of all ages, all times, and all countries, the so-called\n\u201corchestral fairy tale for children\u201d\u2014\u201cPeter and the Wolf\u201d.\nCompleted in Moscow on April 24, 1936, the score was performed for the\nfirst time anywhere at a children\u2019s concert of the Moscow Philharmonic\nthe following month. Two years later, on March 25, 1938, the Boston\nSymphony Orchestra gave the music its first performance outside of\nRussia. On January 13, 1940, the work was produced by the Ballet Theatre\nat the Center Theatre, New York, with choreography by Adolph Bolm, and\nEugene Loring starring in the role of Peter. Its success as a ballet was\nlong and emphatic, particularly with the younger matinee element.\nProminent in the general effectiveness of Prokofieff\u2019s work is the role\nof the Narrator, for whom Prokofieff supplied a simple and deliciously\nchild-like text, with flashes of delicate humor, very much in the animal\nstory tradition of Grimm and Andersen.\nBy way of introduction, Prokofieff has himself identified the\n\u201ccharacters\u201d of his \u201corchestral fairy tale\u201d on the first page of the\nscore:\u2014\n\u201cEach character of this Tale is represented by a corresponding\ninstrument in the orchestra: the bird by the flute, the duck by an oboe,\nthe cat by a clarinet in the low register, the grandfather by a bassoon,\nthe wolf by three horns, Peter by the string quartet, the shooting of\nthe hunters by the kettle-drums and the bass drum. Before an orchestral\nperformance it is desirable to show these instruments to the children\nand to play on them the corresponding leitmotives. Thereby the children\nlearn to distinguish the sonorities of the instruments during the\nperformance of this Tale.\u201d\nThe characters having been duly tagged and labelled, the Narrator, in a\ntone that is by turns casual, confiding and awesome, begins to tell of\nthe adventures of Peter....\n\u201cEarly one morning Peter opened the gate and went out into the big green\nmeadow. On a branch of a big tree sat a little Bird, Peter\u2019s friend.\n\u2018All is quiet,\u2019 chirped the Bird gaily.\n\u201cJust then a Duck came waddling round. She was glad that Peter had not\nclosed the gate, and decided to take a nice swim in the deep pond in the\nmeadow.\n\u201cSeeing the Duck, the little Bird flew down upon the grass, settled next\nto her, and shrugged his shoulders: \u2018What kind of a bird are you, if you\ncan\u2019t fly?\u2019 said he. To this the Duck replied: \u2018What kind of a bird are\nyou, if you can\u2019t swim?\u2019 and dived into the pond. They argued and\nargued, the Duck swimming in the pond, the little Bird hopping along the\nshore.\n\u201cSuddenly, something caught Peter\u2019s attention. He noticed a Cat crawling\nthrough the grass. The Cat thought: \u2018The Bird is busy arguing, I will\njust grab him.\u2019 Stealthily she crept toward him on her velvet paws.\n\u2018Look out!\u2019 shouted Peter, and the Bird immediately flew up into the\ntree while the Duck quacked angrily at the Cat from the middle of the\npond. The Cat walked around the tree and thought: \u2018Is it worth climbing\nup so high? By the time I get there the Bird will have flown away.\u2019\n\u201cGrandfather came out. He was angry because Peter had gone into the\nmeadow. \u2018It is a dangerous place. If a Wolf should come out of the\nforest, then what would you do?\u2019 Peter paid no attention to\nGrandfather\u2019s words. Boys like him are not afraid of Wolves, but\nGrandfather took Peter by the hand, locked the gate, and led him home.\n\u201cNo sooner had Peter gone than a big gray Wolf came out of the forest.\nIn a twinkling the Cat climbed up the tree. The Duck quacked, and in her\nexcitement jumped out of the pond. But no matter how hard the Duck tried\nto run, she couldn\u2019t escape the Wolf. He was getting nearer ... nearer\n... catching up with her ... and then he got her and, with one gulp,\nswallowed her.\n\u201cAnd now, this is how things stand: the Cat was sitting on one branch,\nthe Bird on another\u2014not too close to the Cat\u2014and the Wolf walked round\nand round the tree looking at them with greedy eyes.\n\u201cIn the meantime, Peter, without the slightest fear, stood behind the\nclosed gate watching all that was going on. He ran home, got a strong\nrope, and climbed up the high stone wall. One of the branches of the\ntree, round which the Wolf was walking, stretched out over the wall.\nGrabbing hold of the branch, Peter lightly climbed over onto the tree.\n\u201cPeter said to the Bird: \u2018Fly down and circle round the Wolf\u2019s head;\nonly take care that he doesn\u2019t catch you.\u2019 The Bird almost touched the\nWolf\u2019s head with his wings while the Wolf snapped angrily at him from\nthis side and that. How the Bird did worry the wolf! How he wanted to\ncatch him! But the Bird was cleverer, and the Wolf simply couldn\u2019t do\nanything about it.\n\u201cMeanwhile, Peter made a lasso and, carefully letting it down, caught\nthe Wolf by the tail and pulled with all his might. Feeling himself\ncaught, the Wolf began to jump wildly, trying to get loose. But Peter\ntied the other end of the rope to the tree, and the Wolf\u2019s jumping only\nmade the rope around his tail tighter.\n\u201cJust then, the hunters came out of the woods following the Wolf\u2019s trail\nand shooting as they went. But Peter, sitting in the tree, said: \u2018Don\u2019t\nshoot! Birdie and I have caught the Wolf. Now help us to take him to the\nzoo.\u2019\n\u201cAnd there ... imagine the procession: Peter at the head; after him the\nhunters leading the Wolf; and winding up the procession, Grandfather and\nthe Cat. Grandfather tossed his head discontentedly! \u2018Well, and if Peter\nhadn\u2019t caught the Wolf? What then?\u2019\n\u201cAbove them flew Birdie chirping merrily: \u2018My, what brave fellows we\nare, Peter and I! Look what we have caught!\u2019 And if one would listen\nvery carefully he could hear the Duck quacking inside the Wolf; because\nthe Wolf in his hurry had swallowed her alive.\u201d\nTo Prokofieff\u2019s biographer Nestyev \u201cPeter and the Wolf\u201d represents a\n\u201cgallery of clever and amusing animal portraits as vividly depicted as\nthough painted from nature by an animal artist.\u201d Certainly, this\ningenious assortment of chirping and purring and clucking and howling,\ntranslated into terms of a masterly orchestral speech, is the tender and\nloving work of a story-teller patient and tolerant of the claims of\nchildren, and awed by their infinite imaginative capacity.\n    _\u201cSummer Day,\u201d Children\u2019s Suite for Little Symphony, Opus 65-B_\nFive years after completing \u201cPeter and the Wolf\u201d Prokofieff returned\nonce again to the children\u2019s corner. This time it was a suite for little\nsymphony called \u201cSummer Day.\u201d Actually the suite had begun as a series\nof piano pieces, entitled \u201cChildren\u2019s Music,\u201d that Prokofieff had\nwritten and published shortly before he turned his thoughts to \u201cPeter\nand the Wolf.\u201d The chances are that it was this very \u201cChildren\u2019s Music\u201d\nthat precipitated him into the child\u2019s world of wonder and fantasy from\nwhich were to emerge Peter\u2019s adventures in the animal kingdom. It was\nnot till 1941, however, that he assembled an assortment of these piano\npieces and arranged them for orchestra. Credit for their first\nperformance in America belongs to the New York Philharmonic-Symphony,\nwhich included them on its program of October 25, 1945. Artur Rodzinski\nconducted. At that time Robert Bagar and I were the society\u2019s program\nannotators, and the analysis given below was written by him for our\nprogram-book of that date.\nI. \u201c_Morning_\u201d (_Andante tranquillo, C major, 4-4_). An odd little\nphrase is played by the first flute with occasional reinforcement from\nthe second, while the other woodwinds engage in a mild counterpoint and\nthe strings and bass drum supply the rhythmic anchorage. In a middle\npart the bassoons, horns, \u2019cellos and (later) the violas and bass sing a\nrather serious melody, as violins and flutes offer accompanying figures.\nII. \u201c_Tag_\u201d (_Vivo, F major, 6-8_). A bright, tripping melody begins in\nthe violins and flutes and is soon shared by bassoons. It is repeated,\nthis time leading to the key of E-flat where the oboes play it in a\nmodified form. There follows a short intermediary passage in the same\ntripping spirit, although the rhythm is stressed more. After some\nadditional modulations the section ends with the opening strain.\nIII. \u201c_Waltz_\u201d (_Allegretto, A major, 3-4_). A tart and tangy waltz\ntheme, introduced by the violins, has an unusual \u201cfeel\u201d about it because\nof the unexpected intervals in the melody. In a more subdued manner the\nviolins usher in a second theme, which, however, is given a\nProkofieffian touch by the interspersed woodwind chords in octave skips.\nAs before, the opening idea serves as the section\u2019s close.\nIV. \u201c_Regrets_\u201d (_Moderato, F major, 4-4_). An expressive,\nstraightforward melody starts in the \u2019cellos. Oboes pick it up in a\nslightly revised form and they and the first violins conclude it. Next\nthe violins and clarinets give it a simple variation. In the meantime,\nthere are some subsidiary figures in the other instruments. All ends in\njust the slightest kind of finale.\nV. \u201c_March_\u201d (_Tempo di marcia, C major, 4-4_). Clarinets and oboes each\ntake half of the chief melody. The horns then play it and, following a\nbrief middle sequence with unusual leaps, the tune ends in a harmonic\ncombination of flutes, oboes, horns and trumpets.\nVI. \u201c_Evening_\u201d (_Andante teneroso, F major, 3-8_). Prokofieff\u2019s knack\nof making unusual melodic intervals sound perfectly natural is here well\nillustrated. A solo flute intones the opening bars of a pleasant\nsong-like tune, the rest of which is given to the solo clarinet. Still\nin the same reflective mood, the music continues with a passage of\norchestral arpeggios, while the first violins take their turn with the\nmelody. A middle portion in A-flat major presents some measures of\nsyncopation. With a change of key to C major and again to F major, the\nsection ends tranquilly with a snatch of the opening tune.\nVII. \u201c_Moonlit Meadows_\u201d (_Andantino, D major, 2-4_). The solo flute\nopens this section with a smooth-flowing melody which rather makes the\nrounds, though in more or less altered form. The section ends quite\nsimply with three chords.\nThis transcription departs but slightly from the piano originals, and\nwhen it does so it is because the composer has obviously felt the need\nof a stronger accent here or some figure there, unimportant in\nthemselves, which might serve to bolster up the Suite.\n     _March from the Opera, \u201cThe Love of Three Oranges\u201d, Opus 33-A_\nIt was Cleofonte Campanini, leading conductor of the Chicago Opera\nCompany, who approached Prokofieff early in 1919 for an opera.\nProkofieff first offered \u201cThe Gambler\u201d, of which he possessed only the\npiano part, having left the orchestral score behind in the library of\nthe Maryinsky Theatre of Leningrad. The offer was put aside for a second\nproposal\u2014a project Prokofieff had already been toying with in Russia.\nThis was an opera inspired in part by a device prominent in the Italian\ntradition of Commedia dell\u2019Arte and based, as a story, on an Italian\nclassic. The idea excited Campanini, and a contract was speedily signed.\nThe piano score was completed by the following June, and in October the\norchestral score was ready for submission. Preparations were made for a\nproduction in Chicago, when Campanini suddenly died. An entire season\nwent by before its world premiere was finally achieved under the\ndirectorship of Mary Garden. This occurred on December 30, 1921, at the\nChicago Auditorium, with Prokofieff conducting and Nina Koshetz making\nher American debut as the Fata Morgana. A French version was used,\nprepared by Prokofieff and Vera Janacoupolos from the original Russian\ntext of the composer. Press and public were friendly, if not\nover-enthusiastic.\nLess than two months later, on February 14, 1922, the Chicago Opera\nCompany presented the opera for the first time in New York, at the\nManhattan Opera House, with Prokofieff himself again conducting. This\ntime the critics were far from friendly. One of them remarked waspishly:\n\u201cThe cost of the production is $130,000, which is $43,000 for each\norange. The opera fell so flat that its repetition would spell financial\nruin.\u201d There were no further performances that season. Indeed it was not\ntill November 1, 1949, that \u201cThe Love of Three Oranges\u201d returned to\nAmerican currency. It was on that night that Laszlo Halasz introduced\nthe work into the repertory of the New York City Opera Company at the\nCity Center of Music and Drama. The opera was presented in a skilful\nEnglish version made by Victor Seroff. The production was \u201can almost\nstartling success,\u201d in the words of Olin Downes. \u201cThe opera became\novernight the talk of the town and took a permanent place in the\nrepertory of the company. This was due in large part to the character of\nthe production itself, which so well became the fantasy and satire of\nthe libretto, and the dynamic power of Prokofieff\u2019s score. An additional\nfactor in the success was, without doubt, the development of taste and\nreceptivity to modern music on the part of the public which had taken\nplace in the intervening odd quarter of a century since the opera first\nsaw the light.\u201d\nProkofieff based his libretto on Carlo Gossi\u2019s \u201cFiaba dell\u2019amore delle\ntre melarancie\u201d (The Tale of the Love of the Three Oranges). Gozzi, an\neighteenth-century dramatist and story-teller, had a genius for giving\nfresh form to old tales and legends and for devising new ones. The tales\nwere called _fiabe_, or fables. Later dramatists found them a fertile\nsource of suggestions for plot, and opera composers have been no less\nindebted to this gifted teller of tales. Puccini\u2019s \u201cTurandot\u201d is only\none of at least six operas founded on Gozzi\u2019s masterly little _fiaba_ of\nlegendary China. The vein of satire running through Gozzi\u2019s _fiabe_ has\nalso attracted subsequent writers and composers. It is not surprising\nthat Prokofieff, no mean satirist himself, found inspiration for an\nopera in one of these delicious _fiabe_.\nIn view of the great popularity which \u201cThe Love of Three Oranges\u201d has\nwon in recent seasons in America, it may be of some practical use and\ninterest to the readers of this monograph to provide them with an\noutline of the plot. I originally wrote the synopsis that follows for\n\u201cThe Victor Book of Operas\u201d in the 1949 issue revised and edited for\nSimon & Schuster by myself and Robert Bagar. \u201cThe Love of Three Oranges\u201d\nis divided into a Prologue and Four Acts.\nSCENE: _Stage, with Lowered Curtain and Grand Proscenium, on Each Side\nof Which are Little Balconies and Balustrades._ An artistic discussion\nis under way among four sets of personages on which kind of play should\nbe enacted on the present occasion. The Glooms, clad in appropriately\nsomber roles, argue for tragedy. The Joys, in costumes befitting their\ntemperament, hold out for romantic comedy. The Empty-heads disagree with\nboth and call for frank farce. At last, the Jesters (also called the\nCynics) enter, and succeed in silencing the squabbling groups. Presently\na Herald enters to announce that the King of Clubs is grieving because\nhis son never smiles. The various personages now take refuge in\nbalconies at the sides of the stage, and from there make comments on the\nplay that is enacted. But for their lack of poise and dignity, they\nwould remind one of the chorus in Greek drama.\nSCENE: _The King\u2019s Palace._ The King of Clubs, in despair over his son\u2019s\nhopeless defection, has summoned physicians to diagnose the ailment.\nAfter elaborate consultation, the doctors inform the King that to be\ncured the Prince must learn to laugh. The Prince, alas, like most\nhypochondriacs, has no sense of humor. The King resolves to try the\nprescribed remedy. Truffaldino, one of the comic figures, is now\nassigned the task of preparing a gay festival and masquerade to bring\ncheer into the Prince\u2019s smileless life. All signify approval of the plan\nexcept the Prime Minister Leander, who is plotting with the King\u2019s niece\nClarisse to seize the throne after slaying the Prince. In a sudden\nevocation of fire and smoke, the wicked witch, Fata Morgana, appears,\nfollowed by a swarm of little devils. As a fiendish game of cards ensues\nbetween the witch, who is aiding Leander\u2019s plot, and Tchelio, the court\nmagician, attendant demons burst into a wild dance. The Fata Morgana\nwins and, with a peal of diabolical laughter, vanishes. The jester\nvainly tries to make the lugubrious Prince laugh, and as festival music\ncomes from afar, the two go off in that direction.\nSCENE: _The Main Courtroom of the Royal Palace._ In the grand court of\nthe palace, merrymakers are busy trying to make the Prince laugh, but\ntheir efforts are unavailing for two reasons: the Prince\u2019s nature is\nadamant to gaiety and the evil Fata Morgana is among them, spoiling the\nfun. Recognizing her, guards seize the sorceress and attempt to eject\nher. In the struggle that ensues she turns an awkward somersault, a\nsight so ridiculous that even the Prince is forced to laugh out loud.\nAll rejoice, for the Prince, at long last, is cured! In revenge, the\nFata Morgana now pronounces a dire curse on the recovered Prince: he\nshall again be miserable until he has won the \u201clove of the three\noranges.\u201d\nSCENE: _A Desert._ In the desert the magician Tchelio meets the Prince\nand pronounces an incantation against the cook who guards the three\noranges in the near-by castle. As the Prince and his companion, the\njester Truffaldino, head for the castle, the orchestra plays a scherzo,\nfascinating in its ingeniously woven web of fantasy. Arriving at the\ncastle, the Prince and Truffaldino obtain the coveted oranges after\novercoming many hazards. Fatigued, the Prince now goes to sleep. A few\nmoments later Truffaldino is seized by thirst and, as he cuts open one\nof the oranges, a beautiful Princess steps out, begging for water. Since\nit is decreed that the oranges must be opened at the water\u2019s edge, the\nhelpless Princess promptly dies of thirst. Startled, Truffaldino at\nlength works up courage enough to open a second orange, and, lo! another\nPrincess steps out, only to meet the same fate. Truffaldino rushes out.\nThe spectators in the balconies at the sides of the stage argue\nexcitedly over the fate of the Princess in the third orange. When the\nPrince awakens, he takes the third orange and cautiously proceeds to\nopen it. The Princess Ninette emerges this time, begs for water, and is\nabout to succumb to a deadly thirst, when the Jesters rush to her rescue\nwith a bucket of water.\nSCENE: _The Throne Room of the Royal Palace._ The Prince and the\nPrincess Ninette are forced to endure many more trials through the evil\npower of the Fata Morgana. At one juncture the Princess is even changed\ninto a mouse. The couple finally overcome all the hardships the witch\nhas devised, and in the end are happily married. Thus foiled in her\nwicked sorcery, the Fata Morgana is captured and led away, leaving\ntraitorous Leander and Clarisse to face the King\u2019s ire without the aid\nof her magic powers.\nTypical in this \u201cburlesque opera\u201d is Prokofieff\u2019s penchant for witty,\nsardonic writing. This cleverly evoked world of satiric sorcery is\nperhaps far removed from Prokofieff\u2019s main areas of operatic interest,\nwhich were Russian history and literature. The pungent note of modernism\nis readily heard in this music, though compared with the more dissonant\nwriting of Prokofieff\u2019s piano and violin concertos, it is a kind of\nmodified modernism, diverting in its sophisticated discourse on the\nchild\u2019s world of fairyland wonder. If, as Nestyev says, the work is \u201ca\nsubtle parody of the old romantic opera with its false pathos and sham\nfantasy,\u201d it is primarily what it purports to be\u2014a fairy tale, as gay\nand sparkling and wondrous as any in the whole realm of opera.\nThe brilliant and bizarre \u201cMarch\u201d from this opera has become one of the\nbest known and most widely exploited symphonic themes of our time. It\ncomes as an exhilarating orchestral interlude in the first act at the\npoint where the straight-faced Prince and his Jester wander off in the\ndirection of the festival music. The \u201cMarch\u201d is built around a swaying\ntheme of irresistible appeal that mounts in power as it is repeated and\ncomes to a sudden and forceful halt, as if at the crack of a whip.\n[1]I quote from Nestyev\u2019s biography, translated by Rose Prokofieva and\n    published in this country by Alfred A. Knopf (1946).\n                     Special Booklets published for\n                   THE PHILHARMONIC-SYMPHONY SOCIETY\n  POCKET-MANUAL of Musical Terms,\n      Edited by Dr. Th. Baker (G. Schirmer\u2019s)\n  BEETHOVEN and his Nine Symphonies\n      by Pitts Sanborn\n  BRAHMS and some of his Works\n      by Pitts Sanborn\n  MOZART and some Masterpieces\n      by Herbert F. Peyser\n  WAGNER and his Music-Dramas\n      by Robert Bagar\n  TSCHAIKOWSKY and his Orchestral Music\n      by Louis Biancolli\n  JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH and a few of his major works\n      by Herbert F. Peyser\n  SCHUBERT and his work\n      by Herbert F. Peyser\n  *MENDELSSOHN and certain MASTERWORKS\n      by Herbert F. Peyser\n  ROBERT SCHUMANN\u2014Tone-Poet, Prophet and Critic\n      by Herbert F. Peyser\n  *HECTOR BERLIOZ\u2014A Romantic Tragedy\n      by Herbert F. Peyser\n  *JOSEPH HAYDN\u2014Servant and Master\n      by Herbert F. Peyser\n  GEORGE FRIDERIC HANDEL\n      by Herbert F. Peyser\n  RICHARD STRAUSS\n      by Herbert F. Peyser\nThese booklets are available to Radio Members at 25c each while the\nsupply lasts except those indicated by asterisk.\n--A few palpable typos were silently corrected.\n--Retained transliteration of foreign names, including \u201cProkofieff\u201d\n  rather than the currently-more-common \u201cProkofiev\u201d\n--Copyright notice is from the printed exemplar. (U.S. copyright was not\n  renewed: this ebook is in the public domain.)\nEnd of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Serge Prokofieff and his Orchestral\nMusic, by Louis Biancolli\n*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PROKOFIEFF AND HIS ORCHESTRAL MUSIC ***\n***** This file should be named 50226-0.txt or 50226-0.zip *****\nThis and all associated files of various formats will be found in:\nProduced by Stephen Hutcheson, Dave Morgan and the Online\nUpdated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will\nbe renamed.\nCreating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright\nlaw means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works,\nso the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United\nStates without permission and without paying copyright\nroyalties. 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{"source_document": "", "creation_year": 1937, "culture": " English\n", "content": "Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Dave Morgan and the Online\n    [Illustration: Geology of Arches National Park]\n    [Illustration: BALANCED ROCK, guarding The Windows section of Arches\n    National Park. Rock is Slick Rock Member of Entrada Sandstone\n    resting upon crinkly bedded Dewey Bridge Member of the Entrada.\n    White rock in foreground is Navajo Sandstone. La Sal Mountains on\n    right skyline. (Frontispiece)]\n    [Illustration: Graphic Title Page]\n                    GEOLOGICAL SURVEY BULLETIN 1393\n                UNITED STATES DEPARTMENT OF THE INTERIOR\n                    ROGERS C. B. MORTON, _Secretary_\n    [Illustration: Department of the Interior \u00b7 March 3, 1949]\n                 U.S. GOVERNMENT PRINTING OFFICE: 1975\n  Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data\n  Lohman, Stanley William, 1907-\n  The geologic story of Arches National Park.\n  (Geological Survey Bulletin 1393)\n  Bibliography: p.\n  Includes index.\n  1. Geology\u2014Utah\u2014Arches National Park\u2014Guide-books.\n  2. Arches National Park, Utah\u2014Guide-books.\n  I. Title. II. Series: United States Geological Survey\n  Bulletin 1393.\n For sale by the Superintendent of Documents, U. S. Government Printing\n  Origin and development of the arches                                 37\n  Frontispiece. Balanced Rock.\n  4. Rock column of Arches National Park                               21\n  8. Geologic section across northwest end of Arches National Park     28\n  10. Gravity anomalies over Salt Valley                               31\n  11. Tilted block of rocks in Cache Valley graben                     34\n  12. Jointed northeast flank of Salt Valley anticline                 36\n  22. Southeast end of faulted Cache Valley anticline                  56\n  23. Faulted Seven Mile-Moab Valley anticline                         58\n  28. Balanced rocks on south wall of Park Avenue                      64\n  35. Intricate crossbeds in Navajo Sandstone                          70\n  38. Looking southwestward through North Window                       73\n  42. Suspension foot bridge across Salt Wash                          78\n  51. Southeastern part of Devils Garden trail                         88\n    [Illustration: Petroglyph figure]\nBeginning of a Monument\nAccording to former Superintendent Bates Wilson (1956), Prof. Lawrence\nM. Gould, of the University of Michigan, was the first to recognize the\ngeologic and scenic values of the Arches area in eastern Utah and to\nurge its creation as a national monument. Mrs. Faun McConkie Tanner[1]\ntold me that Professor Gould, who had done a thesis problem in the\nnearby La Sal Mountains, was first taken through the area by Marv\nTurnbow, third owner of Wolfe cabin. (See p. 12.) When Professor Gould\nwent into ecstasy over the beautiful scenery, Turnbow replied, \u201cI didn\u2019t\nknow there was anything unusual about it.\u201d\nDr. J. W. Williams, generally regarded as father of the monument, and L.\nL. (Bish) Taylor, of the Moab Times-Independent, were the local leaders\nin following up on Gould\u2019s suggestion and, with the help of the Moab\nLions Club, their efforts finally succeeded on April 12, 1929, when\nPresident Herbert Hoover proclaimed Arches National Monument, then\ncomprising only 7 square miles.[2] It was enlarged to about 53 square\nmiles by President Franklin D. Roosevelt\u2019s Proclamation of November 25,\n1938, and remained at nearly that size, with some boundary adjustments\non July 22, 1960, until it was enlarged to about 130 square miles by\nPresident Lyndon B. Johnson\u2019s Proclamation of January 20, 1969.\nAccording to Breed (1947), Harry Goulding, of Monument Valley, in a\nspecially equipped car, traversed the rugged sand and rocks of the\nArches region in the fall of 1936 and, thus, became the first person to\ndrive a car into The Windows section of Arches National Monument. Soon\nafter, a bulldozer followed Harry\u2019s tracks and made a passable trail.\nWhen my family and I visited the monument in 1946, the entrance was\nabout 12 miles northwest of Moab on U.S. Highway 163 (then U.S. 160),\nwhere Goulding\u2019s old tire tracks led eastward past a small sign reading\n\u201cArches National Monument 8 miles.\u201d This primitive road crossed the\nsandy, normally dry Courthouse Wash and ended in what is now called The\nWindows section. At that time there was no water or ranger station, nor\nwere there any picnic tables or other improvements within the monument\nproper, and the custodian was housed in an old barracks of the Civilian\nConservation Corps near what is now the entrance, 5 miles northwest of\nMoab.\nFormer Custodian Russell L. Mahan reported (oral commun., May 1973) that\nsoon after our initial visit in 1946 a 500-gallon tank was installed\nnear Double Arch in The Windows section and connected to a drinking\nfountain and that two picnic tables and a pit toilet were added. At that\ntime the only access to Salt Valley and what is now called Devils Garden\nwas a primitive dirt road which, according to Breed (1947, p. 175), left\nold U.S. Highway 160 (now U.S. 163) 24 miles northwest of Moab, went 22\nmiles east, then followed Salt Valley Wash down to Wolfe cabin (fig. 1).\nAccording to Abbey (1971), who served as a seasonal ranger beginning\nabout 1958, a sign had by then been erected at the crossing of\nCourthouse Wash which read:\nThe ranger station, his home for 6 months of the year, was what Abbey\ndescribed as \u201ca little tin housetrailer.\u201d Nearby was an information\ndisplay under a \u201clean-to shelter.\u201d He had propane fuel for heat,\ncooking, and refrigeration, and a small gasoline-engine-driven generator\nfor lights at night. His water came from the 500-gallon tank, which was\nfilled at intervals from a tank truck. At that time there were three\nsmall dry campgrounds, each with tables, fireplaces, garbage cans, and\npit toilets. By that time an extension of the dirt road led northward to\nDevils Garden, and some trails had been built and marked.\nBates Wilson became Custodian of the monument in 1949 and later became\nSuperintendent not only of Arches but also of the nearby new Canyonlands\nNational Park (Lohman, 1974) and the more distant Natural Bridges\nNational Monument. In the fall of 1969, Bates told me of some of his\nearly experiences in the undeveloped monument, including the evening\nwhen 22 cars were marooned on the wrong (northeast) side of Courthouse\nWash after a flash flood. Bates and his \u201clone\u201d ranger brought ropes,\ncoffee, and what food they could obtain in town after closing time,\nthrew a line across the swollen stream, had a tourist pull a rope\nacross, then took turns wading the stream with one hand on the rope and\nthe other balancing supplies on his shoulder. After a fire had been\nbuilt and hot coffee and food passed around, the spirits of the stranded\ngroup rose considerably, except for one irate woman from the East, who\nrefused to budge from her car. Bates and his helper finally got the last\ncar out about 1 a.m., after the flood had subsided, and Mrs. Wilson then\nsupplied lodging and more food and coffee for those who needed it.\nDuring and for sometime after World War II and the Korean War, lack of\nmaintenance funds and personnel had prevented improvement of the\nfacilities in many of our national parks and monuments, particularly in\nundeveloped ones like Arches. The day was saved through the wisdom and\nforesight of former Park Service Director Conrad L. Wirth, who saw the\nneed and desirability of putting the whole \u201cwant\u201d list into one\nattractive, marketable package. In the words of Everhart (1972, p. 36):\n  Selection of a name is of course recognized as the most important\n  decision in any large-scale enterprise, and here Wirth struck pure\n  gold. In 1966 the Park Service would be celebrating its fiftieth\n  anniversary. What a God-given target to shoot for! Why not produce a\n  ten-year program, which would begin in 1956, aimed to bring every park\n  up to standard by 1966\u2014and call it Mission 66?\nThe ensuing well-documented and cost-estimated plan for Mission 66 was\nenthusiastically backed by President Dwight D. Eisenhower and approved\nand well supported by Congress to the tune of more than $1 billion\nduring the 10-year period. For Arches, this included a new entrance,\nPark Headquarters, Visitor Center, a museum boasting a bust of founder\nDr. Williams, and modern housing for park personnel, all 5 miles\nnorthwest of Moab. By 1958 (Pierson, 1960) a fine new paved road between\nPark Headquarters and Balanced Rock (frontispiece) was completed. These\nbadly needed improvements were followed by the completion of the paved\nroad all the way to Devils Garden, the building of the modern\ncampground, picnic facilities, and amphitheater in the Devils Garden,\nand the construction of turnouts and marked trails.\n    [Illustration: Petroglyph figure]\nGraduation to a Park\nArches graduated to a full-fledged national park when President Richard\nM. Nixon signed a Congressional Bill on November 16, 1971. The change in\nstatus was accompanied by boundary changes that reduced the area to\nabout 114 square miles. The loss of most of Dry Mesa, just east of the\npresent boundary (fig. 1), was offset in part by gains of new land\nnorthwest of Devils Garden. The present (1974) boundaries, roads,\ntrails, and named features of the park are shown in figure 1.\nThe park was virtually completed at graduation time, and so far this\nchange in status has shown up mainly in new entrance signs, a new 1972\nbrochure and map, and a very informative \u201cGuide to an Auto Tour of\nArches National Park,\u201d keyed to numbered signs at parking spaces. About\nall that remain to be added are new wayside exhibits, some boundary\nfences, and spur roads and trails.\n    [Illustration: ARCHES NATIONAL PARK, showing location in Utah,\n    boundaries, streams, highways and roads, trails, landforms,\n    principal named features, and the city of Moab. The reader is\n    referred to figure 7 and to road maps issued by the State or by oil\n    companies for the locations of other nearby towns and features.\n    Visitors also may obtain pamphlets, from the entrance station or\n    from the National Park Service office in Moab, which contain\n    up-to-date maps of the park and the latest available information on\n    roads, trails, campsites, and picnic sites. (Fig. 1)]\nAlthough Arches had officially become a park in November 1971, it was\nnot formally dedicated until May 15, 1972. The ceremony began by having\nthe Federal, State, and local dignitaries and other guests totaling 140\npersons board the _Canyon King_, a 93-foot replica of a Mississippi\nRiver sternwheeler (Lansford, 1972; Lohman, 1974, fig. 69), for its\nmaiden voyage down the Colorado River. After about half an hour, the\nheavily laden boat became stuck on a sandbar, and after a 90-minute wait\nthe passengers were rescued by jet boats. This delayed a luncheon at the\nVisitor Center put on by the Moab Lions Club. Following the luncheon,\nPark Superintendent Bates Wilson made a brief welcoming address, then\nintroduced J. Leonard Volz, Director of the Midwest Region of the\nNational Park Service, who served as master of ceremonies. Speakers\nincluded Utah Governor Calvin L. Rampton, Senator Frank E. Moss, a\nrepresentative of Senator Wallace F. Bennett, Representatives Sherman P.\nLloyd of Utah and Wayne Aspinall of Colorado, and Mitchell Melich,\nSolicitor General of the Department of Interior, representing Secretary\nRogers C. B. Morton. After the speeches, a commemorative plaque, donated\nby the Canyonlands Natural History Association, was unveiled by Senator\nMoss and Mr. Melich.\nMost of the color photographs were taken by me on 4- \u00d7 5-inch film in a\ntripod-mounted press camera, using lenses of several focal lengths, but\na few were taken on 35-mm film, using lenses of various focal lengths. I\nam grateful to several friends for the color photographs credited to\nthem in the figure captions. The black and white photographs were kindly\nloaned from the Moab and Arches files of the National Park Service. The\npoints from which most of the photographs were taken are shown in figure\n    [Illustration: Petroglyph figure]\nEarly History\nThe Canyon lands in and south of Arches were inhabited by cliff dwellers\ncenturies before the first visits of the Spaniards and fur trappers.\nProjectile points and other artifacts found in the nearby La Sal and\nAbajo Mountains indicate occupation by aborigines during the period from\nabout 3000-2000 B.C. to about A.D. 1 (Hunt, Alice, 1956). The Fremont\npeople occupied the area around A.D. 850 or 900, and the Pueblo or\nAnasazi people from about A.D. 1075 to their departure in the late 12th\ncentury (Jennings, 1970). Most of the evidence for these early\noccupations has been found in and south of Canyonlands National Park\n(Lohman, 1974), but some traces of these and possibly earlier cultures\nhave been found also within Arches National Park.\nRoss A. Maxwell (National Park Service, written commun., 1941)\ninvestigated two caves in the Entrada Sandstone in the upper reaches of\nSalt Wash that contain Anasazi ruins. He mentioned that perhaps a dozen\nor more other caves should be checked for evidence of former occupation\nand, also, that he found several ancient campsites littered with flint\nchips and broken tools.\nOne cave Maxwell explored some 5 miles north of Wolfe Ranch and north of\nthe park is about 300 feet long and 100 to 150 feet deep. It contains\nthe remains of one or more ruins of a structure he thought may have\ncovered much of the floor. The remaining parts of walls now are only two\nto four tiers of stones in height, although originally they may have\nbeen more than one story high. Maxwell explored a second cave on the\neast side of Salt Wash, about 2 miles north of Wolfe Ranch, which\ncontains 16 storage cists of adobe.\nThe faces of many older sandstone cliffs or ledges are darkened by\ndesert varnish\u2014a natural pigment of iron and manganese oxides. The\nprehistoric inhabitants of the Plateau learned that effective and\nenduring designs, called petroglyphs, could be created simply by\nchiseling or pecking through the thin dark layer to reveal the buff or\ntan sandstone beneath. Most petroglyphs were created by the Anasazi, but\nthose showing men mounted on horses were done by Ute tribesmen after the\nSpaniards brought in horses in the 1500\u2019s. The Fremont people and some\nearlier people painted figures on rock faces, called pictographs, and\nsome of these had pecked outlines.\nThe so-called \u201cMoab panel\u201d was described by Beckwith (1934, p. 177) as a\npetroglyph, but, as pointed out by Schaafsma (1971, p. 72, 73), it\ncomprises figures having pecked outlines and painted bodies, which\nactually are combinations of petroglyphs and pictographs. This\nbeautifully preserved group of paintings is shown in the upper\nphotograph of figure 2. Mrs. Schaafsma goes on to say, concerning the\n\u201cMoab panel\u201d:\n  The long tapered body, the antenna like headdresses, and the staring\n  eyes are characteristic features of Barrier Canyon style figures\n  elsewhere * * *. Of special interest here are the large shields held\n  by certain figures. A visit to this site indicated that the shields,\n  although apparently of some antiquity, have been superimposed over\n  some of the Barrier Canyon figures. Whether or not this was done by\n  the Barrier Canyon style artists themselves or later comers to the\n  site is impossible to tell.\nAlthough definite proof seems lacking, she suggested (written commun.,\nNov. 3, 1973) that the \u201c\u2018Barrier Canyon style\u2019[3] * * * is earlier than\nthe work in the same region clearly attributable to the Fremont.\u201d Note\nthe three bullet holes in and near the right-hand shield. A ledge above\nthe panel that contained petroglyphs during her earlier visit had fallen\nto the base of the cliff by the time my wife and I inspected the panel\nin September 1973.\n    [Illustration: ROCK ART IN ARCHES NATIONAL PARK. A (above), \u201cMoab\n    panel,\u201d on cliff of Wingate Sandstone above U.S. Highway 163 between\n    Courthouse Wash and Colorado River, believed to be the work of\n    \u201cBarrier Canyon\u201d style people. B (below), Petroglyphs on ledge of\n    sandstone in Morrison Formation on east side of Salt Wash just north\n    of Wolfe Ranch, believed to have been cut by Ute tribesmen. (Fig.\n    [Illustration: Fig. 2 B]\nMrs. Schaafsma believes the petroglyphs in the lower photograph of\nfigure 2 to be the work of Ute tribesmen, not only because of the\nhorses, but also because of the stiff-legged appearance of the mountain\nsheep. Note the bullet hole above the panel.\nLater arrivals in and near Arches National Park included first Spanish\nexplorers, then trappers, cattlemen, cattle rustlers and horse thieves,\nfollowed in the present century by oil drillers, uranium hunters,\njeepsters, and tourists. Butch Cassidy, the Sundance Kid, and other\nmembers of The Wild Bunch are known to have frequented parts of what is\nnow Canyonlands National Park (Baker, Pearl, 1971), but it is not\ncertain whether or not any of them traversed what is now Arches National\nPark.\nThe first settler in what is now Arches National Park was a Civil War\nveteran named John Wesley Wolfe, who was discharged from the Union Army\nabout 3 weeks before the Battle of Bull Run because he suffered from\nvaricose veins. In 1888 his doctor told him he had to leave Ohio for a\ndryer climate or he would not live 6 months, so he took his son Fred\nwest and settled on a tract of 150 acres along the west bank of Salt\nWash, where his \u201cWolfe cabin\u201d still stands (figs. 1, 3). From family\nletters and newspaper clippings compiled by Mrs. Maxine Newell and other\nmembers of the National Park Service (Maxine Newell, written commun.,\n1971), we learn what life in the area was like:\n  We have started a cattle spread on a desert homestead. We call it the\n  Bar-DX Ranch. Fred and I live in a little log house on the bank of a\n  creek that is sometimes dry, sometimes flooded from bank to bank with\n  roaring muddy water. We are surrounded with rocks\u2014gigantic red rock\n  formations, massive arches and weird figures, the like of which youve\n  [sic] never seen. The desert is a hostile, demanding country, hot in\n  summer, cold in winter. The Bar-DX Ranch is a day\u2019s ride from the\n  nearest store, out of the range of schools.\nAlthough John Wolfe had promised his wife and his other children that he\nwould return home the first fall that his cattle sales netted enough\nmoney, he and Fred stayed on and on, and his wife refused to go west and\njoin her husband and son. Eighteen years later he sent money from his\npension check to his daughter, Mrs. Flora Stanley, his son-in-law, Ed\nStanley, and his two grandchildren, Esther and Ferol, to join him and\nFred at the ranch. Their train was met at Thompson Springs (now\nThompson), Utah (fig. 7), by John Wolfe for the 30-mile ride to the\nranch by horse and wagon. Sight of the tiny log cabin with only a dirt\nfloor brought tears to his daughter\u2019s eyes, but her spirits rose\nconsiderably after John Wolfe promised to build a new log cabin with a\nwooden floor. But the children were enchanted with this strange country,\nwith the building of the new cabin, and, especially, with getting to go\nrabbit hunting with Grandpa Wolfe. The Stanleys stayed at the ranch\nuntil Esther was 10, then moved to Moab to await the arrival of their\nthird child, Volna.\nIn 1910 John Wolfe sold the Bar-DX Ranch, and the entire family moved to\nKansas. John Wolfe later moved back to Ohio, and died at Etna, Licking\nCounty, on October 22, 1913, at the age of 84, 25 years after his doctor\nhad warned him to move to a dryer climate or face an early death.\nWolfe had sold his spread to Tommy Larson, who later sold it to J. Marv\nTurnbow and his partners, Lester Walker and Stib Beeson. The old log\ncabin gradually came to be known as the \u201cTurnbow cabin,\u201d and this name\nappeared on early maps of the area by the U.S. Geological Survey and on\nearly pamphlets by the National Park Service, partly because Marv\nTurnbow served as a camphand in 1927 assisting in the first detailed\ngeologic mapping of the area (Dane, 1935, p. 4). In 1947 the ranch was\nsold to Emmett Elizondo, who later sold it to the Government for\ninclusion in what was then the monument.\nFrom information supplied by Wolfe\u2019s granddaughter, Mrs. Esther Stanley\nRison, and his great-granddaughter, Mrs. Hazel Wolfe Hastler, who\nvisited the cabin in July 1970, the original name Wolfe cabin, or Wolfe\nRanch, has been restored, and appears on the newer maps and pamphlets.\n(See fig. 1.) What remains of Wolfe\u2019s Bar-DX Ranch is shown in figure 3.\n    [Illustration: WOLFE\u2019S BAR-DX RANCH, on west bank of Salt Wash at\n    start of trail to Delicate Arch. Left to right: Corral, wagon, \u201cnew\u201d\n    cabin, and root cellar. \u201cOld\u201d cabin, which formerly was to right of\n    photograph, was washed away by a flood in 1906. (Fig. 3)]\nArches National Park is surrounded by active uranium and vanadium mines\nand by many test wells for oil, gas, and potash; it is underlain by\nextensive salt and potash deposits. Oil and gas are produced a few miles\nto the north and east, and potash is being produced about 12 miles to\nthe south (Lohman, 1974).\nUranium and vanadium have been mined on the Colorado Plateau since 1898\n(Dane, 1935, p. 176) and in the Yellow Cat area (also called Thompson\u2019s\narea), just north of the park (fig. 1), since about 1911 (Stokes, 1952,\np. 7). The deposits in the Yellow Cat area occur in the Salt Wash\nSandstone Member of the Morrison Formation (fig. 4). According to Pete\nBeroni (U.S. Atomic Energy Commission, oral commun., August 6, 1973),\nsome ore is still being produced in the Yellow Cat area, and the\nproduction of vanadium ore will increase as soon as the uranium mill at\nMoab is converted to also handle vanadium ore. The Corral and so-called\nShinarump mines along the southwest side of Moab Canyon just north of\nSevenmile Canyon (fig. 1) are still actively producing uranium ore from\nthe Moss Back Member of the Chinle Formation, according to Mr. Beroni.\nThe occurrences of salt and potash in and near the park and the attempts\nto find oil and gas nearby are discussed in a recent report (Hite and\nLohman, 1973), and the deposits beneath Moab, Salt, and Cache Valleys\nare discussed in later chapters.\nIn 1955 and 1956 the Pacific Northwest Pipeline, known also as the\n\u201cScenic Inch,\u201d was constructed by the Pacific Northwest Pipeline Corp.\nto transmit natural gas from wells in the San Juan Basin of northwestern\nNew Mexico for a total of 1,487 miles to the Pacific Northwest, with\nadditional pickups from gas fields in northeastern Utah, northwestern\nColorado, and southwestern Wyoming (Walters, 1956). This 26-inch\npipeline follows the general route of U.S. Highway 163 from Cortez,\nColo., past Moab to Sevenmile Canyon 10 miles northwest of Moab, where\nit turns abruptly to the northeast and crosses about the middle of\nArches National Park. It crosses the park road and the flat area between\nthe Fiery Furnace and the southeast end of Devils Garden, but the scars\nare so well healed that most visitors are unaware of its existence\nunless they happen to look southwestward across Salt Valley, where the\nfilled excavation is still visible. The filled trench also appears in\nthe lower middle of figure 23.\nUnlike Canyonlands National Park a few miles to the south, Arches was\nnot on the route of the famous early-day river expeditions of John\nWesley Powell or of most of those that followed; however, the\nsoutheastern boundary of the park is the Colorado River, formerly the\nGrand, which was traversed by the first leg of the ill-fated\nBrown-Stanton expedition (Dellenbaugh, 1902, p. 343-369; Lohman, 1974).\nThe canyon of the Colorado River along the southeastern park boundary is\ndeep and beautiful and is a favorite stretch of quiet water for boaters\nand floaters. Partly paved State Highway 128 on the east bank is a part\nof a most scenic drive from Moab to Cisco\u2014a small railroad town about 32\nmiles northeast of the eastern border of figure 1 (fig. 7). This road\nhas been variously called the \u201cMoab Mail Road,\u201d the \u201cCisco Cutoff,\u201d the\n\u201cDewey Road,\u201d or the \u201cDewey Bridge Road\u201d after an old suspension bridge\n(fig. 7) across the Colorado River at the old townsite of Dewey about 12\nmiles south of Cisco. During the summer this deep colorful canyon may be\nviewed at night by artificial illumination. Each evening one-half hour\nafter sundown, an 80-passenger jet boat leaves a dock north of the\nhighway bridge, carries passengers several miles upstream, then floats\nslowly downstream followed by a truck on the highway carrying 40,000\nwatts of searchlights which play back and forth on the colorful red\ncanyon walls, while the passengers listen to a taped discourse. The\nentire trip requires about 2 hours.\nThe spectacular arches and red rocks of Arches and vicinity have been\nused to advantage in making color movies and color TV shows. Parts of\nthe recent Walt Disney film \u201cRun, Cougar, Run\u201d were filmed beneath\nDelicate Arch (fig. 43), in Professor Valley of the Colorado River just\neast of the park (fig. 7), and in other sections of the canyon country.\nEver since military jet aircraft broke the sound barrier, there has been\na growing number of protests from concerned citizens, organizations, and\nNational Park Service officials concerning the dangers sonic booms have\nposed to Indian ruins and delicate erosional forms in our national parks\nand monuments, such as natural bridges, arches and windows, balanced\nrocks, and natural spires or towers. Many instances of damaged ruins,\nroads, erosional forms, and broken windows were reported. My wife and I\ncan vouch for the destructive power of such booms, for in October 1969,\nwhile we were having breakfast at Squaw Flat Campground in The Needles\nsection of Canyonlands National Park, a particularly severe blast from a\nlow-flying jet not only violently rocked our jack-supported trailer but\nbroke the windshield of our car.\nAt Arches National Park, particular fear was felt for Landscape Arch\n(fig. 53), thought to be the longest natural stone arch in the world,\nand many a special round trip from headquarters involving 47 road miles\nand 2 trail miles was made to check on the condition of this arch after\nespecially loud sonic booms were heard. Finally, in April 1972,\nfollowing a rash of newspaper and magazine articles that spread across\nthe nation, the Secretary of the Air Force put a virtual stop to this\ndanger by ruling that, except in an emergency (Moab Times-Independent,\n  Supersonic flights must not only avoid passing over national parks,\n  they also may not fly near them, according to the new regulation. For\n  each 1,000 feet of altitude, the pilot must allow one-half mile\n  between the flight path and the park boundary. The regulation also\n  prohibits supersonic flights below 30,000 feet (over land) so the high\n  speed planes must allow 15 miles between the nearest park boundary and\n  the flight path.\nLet us hope that with the aid of this long-needed regulation and\ncooperation from visitors, the arches will remain intact for many more\ngenerations to see.\n    [Illustration: Petroglyph figure]\nGeographic Setting\nGeologists have divided the United States into many provinces, each of\nwhich has distinctive geologic and topographic characteristics that set\nit apart from the others. One of the most intriguing and scenic of these\nis the Colorado Plateaus province, referred to in this report simply as\nthe Colorado Plateau, or the Plateau (Hunt, C. B., 1956, fig. 1). This\nprovince, which covers some 150,000 square miles and is not all\nplateaus, as we shall see, extends from Rifle, Colo., at the northeast\nto a little beyond Flagstaff, Ariz., at the southwest, and from Cedar\nCity, Utah, at the west nearly to Albuquerque, N. Mex., at the\nsoutheast. Arches National Park occupies part of the Canyon Lands\nSection, one of the six subdivisions of the Plateau. As the names imply,\nthe Canyon Lands Section of the Plateau comprises a high plateau\ngenerally ranging in altitude from 5,000 to 7,000 feet, which has been\nintricately dissected by literally thousands of canyons.\nArches National Park is drained entirely by the Colorado River, whose\ndeep canyon borders the park on the southeast (fig. 1). Most of the park\nis drained by Salt Wash, which enters the Colorado River just southeast\nof The Windows section, but the southwestern part is drained by\nCourthouse Wash and Moab Canyon, whose flows join the Colorado just west\nof the bridge on which U.S. Highway 163 crosses the river.\nWhen viewed at a distance of 1 foot, the shaded relief map (fig. 1)\nshows the general shape of the land surface in and near Arches National\nPark to the same horizontal scale as it would appear to a person in a\nspacecraft flying at a height of 250,000 feet, or about 47.5 miles. This\nmap was prepared from part of the reverse side of a plastic-relief\nmap[4] at a scale of 1:250,000 by the U.S. Army Map Service of the Moab\nquadrangle, using a simple time- and money-saving method (Stacy, 1962).\n    [Illustration: Petroglyph figure]\nDeposition of The Rock Materials\nThe vivid and varied colors of the bare rocks and the fantastic buttes,\nspires, columns, alcoves, caves, arches, and other erosional forms of\nArches National Park result from a fortuitous combination of geologic\nand climatic circumstances and events unequalled in most other parts of\nthe world.\nFirst among these events was the piling up, layer upon layer, of\nthousands of feet of sedimentary rocks under a wide variety of\nenvironments. Sedimentary rocks of the region are composed of clay,\nsilt, sand, and gravel carried and deposited by moving water; silt and\nsand transported by wind; and some materials precipitated from water\nsolutions, such as limestone (calcium carbonate), dolomite (calcium and\nmagnesium carbonate), gypsum (calcium sulfate with some water),\nanhydrite (calcium sulfate alone), common salt (sodium chloride), potash\nminerals, such as potassium chloride, and a few other less common types.\nSome of the beds were laid down in shallow seas that once covered the\narea or in lagoons and estuaries near the sea. Other beds were deposited\nby streams in inland basins or plains, a few were deposited in lakes,\nand the constituents of deposits like the Navajo Sandstone, were carried\nin by the wind. The character and thickness of the exposed sedimentary\nrocks and the names and ages assigned to them by geologists are shown in\nthe rock column (fig. 4) and in the cross section (fig. 8). The history\nof their deposition is summarized on pages 98-102. Figure 4 was compiled\nmainly from generalized sections given by A. A. Baker (1933), Dane\n(1935), McKnight (1940), and Wright, Shawe, and Lohman (1962), and, in\npart, from Hite and Lohman (1973).\n    [Illustration: ROCK COLUMN OF ARCHES NATIONAL PARK. Average\n    thickness of units 250-1,000 feet is exaggerated two times; those\n    less than 250 feet, four times. 1 foot = 0.305 meter. (Fig. 4)]\n  AGE (millions of yrs ago)\n    GEOLOGIC AGE\n      NAME OF ROCK UNIT\n            KIND OF ROCK AND HOW IT IS SCULPTURED BY EROSION\n              THICKNESS (feet)\n                NAMED FOR OCCURRENCE AT OR NEAR\n    Late Cretaceous\n      Mancos Shale\n            Lead-gray fossiliferous marine shale. Forms slopes.\n      Dakota Sandstone\n            Conglomeratic sandstone, gray shale, carbonaceous shale, and\n      Unconformity\n    Late Jurassic\n      Morrison Fm.\n        Brushy Basin Member\n            Variegated shale, some sandstone and conglomerate, petrified\n                  wood, chert, and dinosaur bones. May contain some beds\n                  of Burro Canyon (Early Cretaceous) age.\n        Salt Wash Member\n            Crossbedded white and gray conglomeratic sandstone beds and\n                  lenses, locally carnotite bearing, and red and gray\n                  sandy mudstone. Forms slopes.\n      Unconformity\n      San Rafael Group\n                (San Rafael Swell, Utah)\n        Summerville Fm.\n            Thin bedded red sandstone and shale. Some cherty limestone\n                  concretions. Forms slopes.\n                Summerville Point, Utah\n        Entrada Ss.\n                (Entrada Point, Utah)\n          Moab Member\n            White, crossbedded fine-grained sandstone. Caps Slick Rock\n                  Member north of Devils Garden and Fiery Furnace and on\n                  Klondike Bluffs.\n          Slick Rock Member\n            Salmon-colored to pink and white fine-grained generally\n                  crossbedded sandstone, containing some medium- to\n                  coarse-grained sand. Generally forms cliffs or narrow\n                  fins many of which contain arches or windows.\n          Dewey Bridge Member\n            Red muddy sandstone and sandy mudstone, with contorted\n                  bedding. Forms easily eroded bases to arches in\n                  Windows Section, hence aided in their development.\n                Dewey Bridge, Utah\n      Unconformity\n    Jurassic and Triassic(?);\n      Glen Canyon Group\n        Navajo Sandstone\n            Massive crossbedded buff, gray, and white fine-grained\n                  sandstone, and local beds of gray limestone. Forms\n                  cliffs along Colorado River, floors Windows Section.\n                Navajo Country, Four Corners (Glen Canyon, U.)\n    Late Triassic(?)\n        Kayenta Formation\n            Lavender, gray, and white lenses of sandstone, red sandy\n                  shale, and conglomerate. Contains some freshwater\n                  shells. Caps and protects cliffs of Wingate Sandstone.\n    Late Triassic\n        Wingate Sandstone\n            Massive, horizontally bedded and crossbedded reddish buff\n                  fine-grained sandstone. Forms vertical cliffs along\n                  Colorado River, Cache Valley, Salt Wash, and\n                  Courthouse Wash.\n                Fort Wingate, N. Mex.\n      Chinle Formation\n            Irregularly bedded buff to red sandstone, red mudstone,\n                  limestone, and conglomerate. Lenticular sandstone and\n                  conglomerate (Moss Back Member) locally at base.\n                  Freshwater shells, petrified wood, reptile bones.\n                Chinle Valley, Ariz.\n                Moss Back Ridge, Utah  Unconformity\n    Middle(?) and Early Triassic\n      Moenkopi Formation\n            Thin-bedded brown shale, gray and brown sandstone, arkosic\n                  grit, and conglomerate. Crops out on southwest side of\n                  Moab Valley and in several places in Salt and Cache\n                  Valleys. Forms slopes.\n                Moenkopi Wash, Ariz.\n      Unconformity\n    Permian\n      Cutler Formation\n            Chocolate brown and red sandy shale, maroon and pinkish-gray\n                  arkose and conglomerate. Lower part probably\n                  equivalent in age to Rico Formation in areas to south\n                  and east. Crops out in Moab Canyon west of Moab fault.\n                Cutler Creek, Colo.\n    Pennsylvanian\n      Hermosa Formation\n        Unnamed upper member\n            Gray marine fossiliferous sandy limestone, gray and\n                  greenish-gray sandstone and sandy shale, and red sandy\n                  shale. Exposed in ledges southwest of Moab fault in\n                  highway cut west of park entrance.\n                Hermosa Creek, Animas River Valley, Colo.\n        Paradox Member\n            Salt, gypsum, and anhydrite, with black and gray shale and\n                  limestone. Few exposures in Salt and Cache Valleys.\n                Paradox Valley, Colo.\n      Unconformity\n    Pennsylvanian(?)\n      Unnamed conglomerate\n            Yellow sandstone with boulders of limestone and chert\n                  containing Mississippian fossils. Exposed at two\n                  places in Salt Valley.\nNot exposed in the area but present far beneath the sedimentary cover\nand exposed in several places a few miles to the northeast are examples\nof the other two principal types of rocks\u2014(1) igneous rocks, solidified\nfrom molten rock forced into or above preexisting rocks along cracks,\njoints, and faults, and (2) much older metamorphic rocks, formed from\nother preexisting rock types by great heat and pressure at extreme\ndepths. Igneous rocks of Tertiary age (fig. 59) form the nearby La Sal\nMountains. The particles comprising the sedimentary rocks in the area\nwere derived by weathering and erosion of all three types of rocks in\nvarious source areas.\nArches National Park and nearby Canyonlands National Park are both in\nthe heart of the Canyon Lands Section of the Plateau; therefore, it is\nonly reasonable to wonder why the differences in their general character\nseemingly outweigh their similarities. First, let us consider the\nsimilarities. Both parks are underlain by dominantly red sedimentary\nrocks, both parks feature unusual erosional forms of sandstone, and both\ncontain beautiful natural arches, although the arches in Canyonlands are\nrestricted almost entirely to the southeastern part of The Needles\nsection and are in much older rocks than those in Arches.\nTo be sure, differences in the rocks themselves play a part in the\ndissimilarity of the two parks, and these differences are of two types.\nFirst, there are lateral changes in the character of the strata, known\nto geologists as facies changes, brought about by differences in the\nenvironment, in the type of materials, and in the mode of deposition\neven within relatively short distances. Thus, during parts of the\nPermian Period while sand, later to be known as the Cedar Mesa and White\nRim Sandstone Members of the Cutler Formation, was being deposited in\nthe southern part of Canyonlands, red mud, silt, and sand of the Cutler\nwere laid down farther north in Canyonlands (Lohman, 1974, fig. 9), and\nsimilar, though somewhat coarser, beds of the Cutler were laid down at\nArches (fig. 4). Further comparisons of the rock columns in the two\nparks show that while limestones of the Rico Formation were being\ndeposited in a shallow sea in the southern part of Canyonlands,\nadditional red mud, silt, and sand of the Cutler were being laid down\nabove sea level in areas to the northeast. The source of the coarser\nmaterials was the ancient Uncompahgre Highland, which stood above sea\nlevel from Late Pennsylvanian time to Late Triassic time (figs. 7, 59).\nAlthough wider and longer, it occupied about the same position as the\npresent Uncompahgre Plateau between Grand Junction and Gateway, Colo.\nStreams eroded the hard igneous and metamorphic rocks from this ancient\nlandmass and dumped the material into basins to the northeast and\nsouthwest. The basin to the southwest, now called the Paradox basin\n(after Paradox Valley, Colo.), at intervals contained shallow seas and\nlagoons, which I will discuss later.\nComparison of the rock columns for the two parks also reveals other\ndifferences. Both parks contain exposures of rocks as old as the\nPennsylvanian Paradox Member of the Hermosa Formation. However, only in\nthe Horseshoe Canyon Detached Unit of Canyonlands are rocks as young as\nthe Jurassic Entrada Sandstone, whereas all the spectacular natural\narches that make Arches famous were formed in the Entrada Sandstone, and\nArches also contains several younger formations of Jurassic and\nCretaceous age (fig. 4).\nA commonly asked question is \u201cWhy are most of the rocks so red,\nparticularly those in which the arches were formed?\u201d This can be\nanswered with one word\u2014iron, the same pigment used in rouge and in paint\nfor barns and boxcars. Various oxides of iron, some including water,\nproduce not only brick red but also pink, salmon, brown, buff, yellow,\nand even green or bluish green. This does not imply that the rocks could\nbe considered as sources of iron ore, for the merest trace, generally\nonly 1 to 3 percent, is enough to produce even the darkest shades of\nred. The white or nearly white Navajo Sandstone and the Moab Member of\nthe Entrada Sandstone contain little or no iron.\nAs pointed out by Stokes (1970, p. 3), microscopic examination of the\ncolored grains of quartz or other minerals shows the pigment to be\nmerely a thin coating on and between white or colorless particles. Sand\nor silt weathered from such rocks soon loses its color by the scouring\naction of wind or water, so that most of the sand dunes and sand bars\nare white or nearly so.\n                   Bending And Breaking of The Rocks\nPerhaps the greatest geologic contrast between these two closely\nadjacent parks lies in their different geologic structure\u2014the kind and\namount of bending and breaking of the once nearly flat lying strata.\nConsolidated rocks, particularly brittle types, are subject to two types\nof fracturing by Earth forces. Joints are fractures along which no\nmovement has taken place. Faults are fractures along which there has\nbeen displacement of the two sides relative to one another (fig. 6). As\nnoted in the report on Canyonlands National Park (Lohman, 1974), the\nstrata there, particularly along the valley of the Green River, are\nvirtually flat lying or have only very gentle dips. Along the Colorado\nRiver above the confluence with the Green, however, the slightly dipping\nstrata are interrupted by several gentle anticlinal and synclinal folds\n(fig. 5) and by at least one fault (fig. 6). The largest of these\nfolds\u2014the Cane Creek anticline, which crosses the Colorado River north\nof Canyonlands\u2014has yielded oil in the past and is now yielding potash by\nsolution mining of salt beds in the Paradox Member of the Hermosa\nFormation.\n    [Illustration: COMMON TYPES OF ROCK FOLDS. Top, Anticline, or\n    upfold; closed anticlines are called domes. Bottom, Syncline, or\n    downfold; closed synclines are called basins. From Hansen (1969, p.\nIn strong contrast to Canyonlands, Arches National Park contains three\nnorthwesterly trending major folds and is bordered on the southwest by a\nfourth. The largest and most important are the collapsed Salt Valley and\nCache Valley anticlines, which separate the two most scenic groups of\narches and other erosional forms\u2014Eagle Park, Devils Garden, Fiery\nFurnace, and Delicate Arch on the northeast, and Klondike Bluffs,\nHerdina Park, and The Windows section on the southwest. Farther\nsouthwest is the Courthouse syncline, containing the attractive group of\nerosional forms called Courthouse Towers (fig. 1). Finally, near the\nsouthwest edge of the park, is the Seven Mile-Moab Valley anticline\n(also known as the Moab-Spanish Valley anticline), whose southwest limb\nis cut off by the Moab fault (figs. 7, 23). The folds just named and the\nsharply contrasting geologic structures of the two parks are well shown\non sheet 2 of the geologic map of the Moab quadrangle (Williams, 1964),\nand the geologic formations are shown in color on sheet 1.\n    [Illustration: COMMON TYPES OF FAULTS. Top, Normal, or gravity\n    fault, resulting from tension in and lengthening of the Earth\u2019s\n    crust. Bottom, reverse fault, resulting from compression in and\n    shortening of the Earth\u2019s crust. Low-angle reverse faults generally\n    are called overthrusts or overthrust faults. In both types, note\n    amount of displacement and repetition of strata. Displacements may\n    range from a few inches or feet to many thousands of feet. From\n    [Illustration: PARADOX BASIN, in southeastern Utah and southwestern\n    Colorado, showing the extent of common salt and major potash\n    deposits in the Paradox Member of the Hermosa Formation, and the\n    salt anticlines. Adapted from Hite (1972, fig. 1B). (Fig. 7)]\n    [Illustration: GEOLOGIC SECTION ACROSS NORTHWEST END OF ARCHES\n    NATIONAL PARK, showing strata beneath Courthouse syncline and Salt\n    Valley anticline. For line of section, see figure 9. Caprock\n    consists of gypsum and shale, from which common salt has been\n    leached by ground water, covered by alluvium. Heavy slanted lines\n    near crest of anticline are faults. Adapted from Hite and Lohman\n    PARK, showing axes of Courthouse syncline and Salt Valley anticline,\n    line of section _A_-_A_\u2032 in figure 8 and line of section _B_-_B_\u2032 in\n    figure 10. Open circles along line of section are sites of test\n    wells for oil, gas, or potash. Adapted from Hite and Lohman (1973,\nArches National Park and most of nearby Canyonlands National Park lie\nwithin what geologists have termed the \u201cParadox basin,\u201d which contains a\nremarkable assemblage of sediments called the Paradox Member of the\nHermosa Formation. These deposits were laid down in shallow seas and\nlagoons during Middle Pennsylvanian time, roughly 300 million years ago\n(fig. 59). As indicated in figure 4, the Paradox Member contains, in\naddition to shale and limestone, minerals deposited by the evaporation\nand concentration of sea water\u2014common salt, gypsum, anhydrite, and\npotash salts. For this reason such deposits are collectively called\nevaporites. Figure 7 also shows that the northeastern part of the\nParadox basin, which is the deepest part, contains a series of partly\nalined anticlines which have cores of salt and, hence, are called salt\nanticlines. As might be expected, roughly alined synclines intervene\nbetween the anticlines, but are not shown because of space limitations.\nAccording to Cater (1970, p. 50): \u201cThe salt anticlines of Utah and\nColorado are unique in North America both in structure and in mode of\ndevelopment.\u201d To this may be added that they also are relatively rare in\nthe world.\nA section across the Salt Valley anticline and the Courthouse syncline\nin the northwestern part of the park is shown in figure 8, and the axes\nof these structures are shown in figure 9.\nNormally, a series of roughly parallel northwestward-trending folds\nwould result from shortening of a segment of the Earth\u2019s crust by\ncompressive forces from the northeast and the southwest, but such does\nnot seem to be the origin of these folds. The folds occur in a\nrelatively narrow belt along the northeastern part of the Paradox basin,\nthe deepest part, which was broken by a series of northwesterly trending\nnormal faults (fig. 6) that cut the deep-lying Precambrian and older\nPaleozoic rocks (fig. 8) prior to the deposition of the salt-bearing\nParadox Member of the Hermosa Formation. Movement along these faults\ncontinued intermittently during and after deposition of the Paradox,\nhowever, and resulted in the formation of a series of northwesterly\ntrending ridges and troughs. Following Paradox time, normal sediments\nderived from a rising landmass to the northeast began to fill the basin.\nThese sediments accumulated most rapidly and to greater thicknesses in\nthe fault-derived troughs. Salt differs from normal sediments in two\nproperties critical to the development of salt anticlines: first, salt\nis considerably lighter (fig. 10), and, second, salt under pressure will\nflow slowly by plastic deformation, much like ice in a glacier flows\nslowly downstream. Thus, salt in the troughs underlying the thicker and\nheavier masses of sediments was squeezed into the adjoining ridges,\ncausing them to rise. Once started, this process tended to be\nself-perpetuating, as the flow of salt from beneath the thick masses of\nsediments in the troughs made room for the accumulation of still greater\nthicknesses of normal sediments. Consequently, the troughs receiving\nmost of the sediments began to form downfolds, or synclines, and the\nridges receiving little or no normal sediments began to form huge salt\nrolls that later were to become the cores of the salt anticlines when\nfinally the ridges too were buried by sediments. Thus, the cross section\n(fig. 8) shows about 12,000 feet of the Paradox Member beneath the crest\nof the Salt Valley anticline and only about 2,000 feet beneath the\nCourthouse syncline. Near the middle of these structures farther to the\nsoutheast, all the Paradox Member has been squeezed out from beneath the\nbordering synclines.\n    [Illustration: GRAVITY ANOMALIES OVER SALT VALLEY, along line _B-B\u2032_\n    shown in figure 9, and relative densities and shapes of rock bodies\n    beneath. Densities are in grams per cubic centimeter. Gravity values\n    are in milligals, as shown. The standard acceleration of gravity is\n    980.665 centimeters per second per second; 1 gal is equal to 1\n    centimeter per second per second, and 1 milligal is one thousandth\n    of a gal. Modified from Case and Joesting (1972, fig. 2). (Fig. 10)]\nThe general shape of the Salt Valley anticline is shown also by\ncross-section _B-B\u2032_ (fig. 10), taken along the northeast-southwest line\n_B-B\u2032_ in figure 9, which is based upon so-called gravity anomalies over\nSalt Valley. The lighter Paradox Member, having an average density of\n2.20, has a lower gravitational attraction than the heavier rocks on\neach side, which have an average density of 2.55.\nBy this time you are doubtless wondering why prominent upfolds of the\nrocks, such as the Salt Valley anticline and associated Cache Valley\nanticline and the Seven Mile-Moab Valley anticline, now underlie\nrelatively deep valleys bordered by prominent ridges. The formation of\nthese valleys was not simple and involved many steps extending over a\nconsiderable amount of geologic time, as portrayed by Cater (1970, fig.\n13; 1972, fig. 4). For a part of the story, let us reexamine the cross\nsection (fig. 8); the rest of the story will be told in the section on\n\u201cUplift and Erosion.\u201d\nFigure 8 shows that the unnamed upper member of the Hermosa Formation\nand the overlying Cutler and Moenkopi Formations are thickest beneath\nthe Courthouse syncline but wedge out against the flanks of the\nanticline. Although the Chinle Formation and younger rocks appear to\nextend across the fold, and may have extended across this part of the\nfold, in Colorado all rocks older than the Jurassic Morrison wedge out\nagainst the flanks of the salt anticlines (Cater, 1970, p. 35) and also\nin the widest part of the Salt Valley anticline southwest of the section\nin figure 8. The salt anticlines were uplifted in a series of pulses so\nthat some formations either were not deposited over the rising\nstructures or were removed by erosion before deposition of the next\nyounger unit. By Morrison time the supply of salt beneath the synclines\nseems to have become used up; hence, the anticline stopped rising, and\nthe Morrison and younger formations were deposited across the\nstructures. Thus, in figure 4, the minimum thickness of all units older\nthan the Morrison is given as zero. Figure 4 shows the marine Mancos\nShale to be the youngest rock unit exposed in the park, but the\nMesaverde Group of Late Cretaceous age and possibly the early Tertiary\n(fig. 59) Wasatch Formation may have been deposited and later removed by\nerosion.\n                   Uplift And Erosion of The Plateau\nNext among the main events leading to the formation of landforms in the\npark was the raising and additional buckling and breaking of the Plateau\nby Earth forces partly during the Late Cretaceous but mainly during the\nearly Tertiary. After uplift and deformation, the Plateau was vigorously\nattacked by various forces of erosion, and the rock materials pried\nloose or dissolved were eventually carted away to the Gulf of California\nby the ancestral Colorado River. Some idea of the enormous volume of\nrock thus removed is apparent when one looks down some 2,000 feet to the\nriver from any of the high overlooks farther south, such as Dead Horse\nPoint (Lohman, 1974, fig. 15). Not so apparent, however, is the fact\nthat younger Mesozoic and Tertiary rocks more than 1 mile thick once\noverlaid this high plateau but have been swept away by erosion. In all,\nthe river has carried thousands of cubic miles of sediment to the sea\nand is still actively at work on this gigantic earth-moving project. In\nan earlier report (Lohman, 1965, p. 42) I estimated that the rate of\nremoval may have been as great as about 3 cubic miles each century. For\na few years the bulk of the sediment was dumped into Lake Mead, but now\nLake Powell is getting much of it. When these and other reservoirs\nultimately become filled with sediment\u2014for reservoirs and lakes are but\ntemporary things\u2014the Gulf of California will again become the burial\nground.\nAccording to Cater (1970, p. 65-67), who made an intensive study of the\nsalt anticlines, collapse of their crests seemingly occurred in two\nstages\u2014the first stage following Late Cretaceous folding; the second\nfollowing uplift of the Plateau later in the Tertiary. Solution and\nremoval of salt by ground water played the leading role in the ultimate\ncollapse.\n    [Illustration: TILTED BLOCK OF ROCKS IN CACHE VALLEY GRABEN, viewed\n    to the east toward Cache Valley from point on gravelled side road to\n    Wolfe\u2019s cabin, about half a mile east of paved road. Steep slope on\n    left composed of Jurassic Morrison Formation, hogback on top formed\n    by Dakota Sandstone of Late Cretaceous age, and gentle slopes to\n    right composed of the Mancos Shale of Late Cretaceous age. (Fig.\nAs shown by Dane (1935, pl. 1, p. 121-126), collapse of the Salt Valley\nand Cache Valley anticlines was accompanied by considerable faulting and\njointing, particularly along their northeast sides; by the upward\nintrusion of two large areas of the Paradox Member of the Hermosa\nFormation, one just northwest of the park and one in the middle of Salt\nValley south of the campground; and by two downdropped masses of rock\nknown to geologists as grabens (pronounced gr\u00e4b\u01ddns)\u2014one just northwest\nof the park and one called the Cache Valley graben, which extends both\neast and west from Salt Wash. The Cache Valley graben has preserved from\nerosion the youngest rock formations in the park, as shown in figure 11.\nThe remarkable jointing of the rocks on the northeast limb of the Salt\nValley anticline is shown in figure 12. All the arches in this section\nof the park were eroded through thin fins of the Slick Rock Member of\nthe Entrada Sandstone, and some, like Broken Arch, figure 16, are capped\nby the Moab Member.\nDifferences in the composition, hardness, arrangement, and thickness of\nthe rock layers determine their ability to withstand the forces of\nfracturing and erosion and, hence, whether they tend to form cliffs,\nledges, fins, or slopes. Most of the cliff- or ledge-forming rocks are\nsandstones consisting of sand deposited by wind or water and later\ncemented together by silica (SiO\u2082), calcium carbonate (CaCO\u2083), or one of\nthe iron oxides (such as Fe\u2082O\u2083), but some hard, resistant ledges are\nmade of limestone (calcium carbonate). The rock column (fig. 4) shows in\ngeneral how these rock formations are sculptured by erosion and how they\nprotect underlying layers from more rapid erosion. The nearly vertical\ncliffs along the lower reaches of Salt and Courthouse Washes and the\nColorado River canyon upstream from Moab consist of the well-cemented\nWingate Sandstone protected above by the even harder sandstones of the\nKayenta Formation. (See figs. 21, 22.) To borrow from an earlier report\nof mine (Lohman, 1965, p. 17), \u201cVertical cliffs and shafts of the\nWingate Sandstone endure only where the top of the formation is capped\nby beds of the next younger rock unit\u2014the Kayenta Formation. The Kayenta\nis much more resistant than the Wingate, so even a few feet of the\nKayenta * * * protect the rock beneath.\u201d In some places, as shown in\nfigures 19 and 20, the overlying Navajo Sandstone makes up the topmost\nunit of the cliff.\n    [Illustration: JOINTED NORTHEAST FLANK OF SALT VALLEY ANTICLINE,\n    viewed westward from an airplane. Light-colored wedge in middle\n    background is Salt Valley bordered on extreme left by Klondike\n    Bluffs. Dark-colored fins and pinnacles on left, of Slick Rock\n    Member of the Entrada Sandstone, form Devils Garden. Sharp pinnacle\n    above valley is the Dark Angel. (See fig. 57.) White bands of\n    sandstone extending to foreground are composed of Moab Member of the\n    Entrada. Note vegetation in the joints. Photograph by National Park\n    Service. (Fig. 12)]\nLast but far from least among the factors responsible for the grandeur\nof Arches National Park and the Plateau in general is the desert\nclimate, which allows one to see virtually every foot of the vividly\ncolored naked rocks, and which has made possible the creation and\npreservation of such a wide variety of fantastic sculptures. A wetter\nclimate would have produced a far different, smoother landscape in which\nmost of the rocks and land forms would have been hidden by vegetation.\nOn the Plateau the vegetation grows mainly on the high mesas and the\nnarrow flood plains bordering the rivers, but scanty vegetation also\noccurs on the gentle slopes or flats.\nThe combination of layers of sediments of different composition,\nhardness and thickness, the bending and breaking of the rocks, and the\ndesert climate, has produced steep slopes having many cliffs, ledges,\nand fins with generally sharp to angular edges, rather than the subdued\nrounded forms of more humid regions.\n                  Origin And Development of The Arches\nAmong the questions commonly asked by visitors are, \u201cHow do arches\nform?\u201d, \u201cWhy are some openings called windows, others arches?\u201d, \u201cWhat is\nthe difference, if any, between arches or windows and natural bridges,\nsuch as those at Natural Bridges National Monument?\u201d, and \u201cHow many\narches are there in Arches National Park?\u201d Before taking up the origin\nand development of arches, I shall attempt to explain the differences\nbetween the three types of natural rock openings named above and comment\nupon the number of arches.\n    photographs were taken. Arrows point to distant views. Numbers refer\n    to figure numbers. (Fig. 13)]\nI believe most geologists and geographers are in general agreement with\nCleland (1910, p. 314) that \u201ca \u2018natural bridge\u2019 is a natural stone arch\nthat spans a valley of erosion. A \u2018natural arch\u2019 is a similar structure\nwhich, however, does not span an erosion valley.\u201d According to this\ndefinition, Natural Bridges National Monument includes three true\nbridges, whereas all the larger rock openings in Arches National Park\nwith which I am familiar are properly termed \u201carches,\u201d but some are\ncalled windows. If we were to distinguish between arches and windows, we\nmight say that arches occur at or near the base of a rock wall, as do\nthe doors of a house or building, whereas windows are found well above\nground level. This distinction was not followed in naming the rock\nopenings in the park, however; for example, Tunnel Arch (fig. 14) is\nconsiderably higher above the ground than North Window (figs. 37, 38) or\nSouth Window (fig. 39).\nAs to the number of arches in the park, I might begin by saying that\nthere is no universal agreement as to how large a rock opening must be\nto qualify as an arch. The pamphlet formerly handed to visitors entering\nthe park proclaimed that \u201cNearly 90 arches have been discovered, and\nothers are probably hidden away in remote and rugged parts of the area,\u201d\nbut the average visitor probably sees less than a third of this number.\nDavid May, Assistant Chief of Interpretation and Resource Management,\nMoab office of National Park Service (oral commun., Oct. 1973), believes\nthat if only those in the park having a minimum dimension of 10 feet in\nany one direction were considered to be arches, the number would boil\ndown to about 56 or 57. The most complete count of arches and other\nopenings in all of southeastern Utah was made by Dale J. Stevens,\nProfessor of Geography at Brigham Young University, during the period\nFebruary through April 1973. He considered those with openings of 3 feet\nor larger and found more than 300 in southeastern Utah, of which 124 are\nin Arches National Park, although he stated that several areas of the\npark were not intensively searched because of time limitations (written\ncommun., July and Sept. 1973). The 124 arches and openings are\ndistributed among the several named areas of the park, as follows:\nCourthouse Towers, 13; Herdina Park, 11; The Windows section, 25;\nDelicate Arch area, 3; Fiery Furnace, 19; Devils Garden, 25; upper\nDevils Garden (northwest of Devils Garden), 14; Eagle Park, 2; and\nKlondike Bluffs, 12.\nProfessor Stevens generally used a range finder or a steel tape to\nmeasure the width and height of the openings and the width and thickness\nof the spans, but estimated a few of the dimensions. In the text\ndescriptions of arches or captions of figures that follow, I am\nincluding all or part of these measurements, without further\nacknowledgment.\nAll the arches in the park were formed in the Entrada Sandstone, mainly\nin the Slick Rock Member but partly in the Slick Rock and Dewey Bridge\nMembers, and a few in the Slick Rock Member occur not far beneath the\nbase of the overlying Moab Member. The sandstone of the three members is\ncomposed mainly of quartz sand cemented together by calcium carbonate\n(CaCO\u2083), which also forms the mineral calcite and the rock known as\nlimestone, but the Dewey Bridge Member also contains beds of sandy\nmudstone. Limestone and calcite are soluble in acid, even in weak acid\nsuch as carbonic acid, HHCO\u2083, also written H\u2082CO\u2083, formed by the solution\nof carbon dioxide (CO\u2082) in water. Ground water, found everywhere in rock\nopenings at different depths beneath the land surface, contains\ndissolved carbon dioxide derived from decaying organic matter in soil,\nfrom the atmosphere, and from other sources. Even rainwater and snow\ncontain a little carbon dioxide absorbed from the atmosphere\u2014enough to\ndissolve small amounts of limestone or of calcite cement from sandstone.\nThe calcite cement in the Entrada and in many other sandstones is\nunevenly distributed, however, so that all the cement is removed first\nfrom places that contain the least amounts, and, once the cement is\ndissolved away, the loose sand is carried away by gravity, wind, or\nwater.\nBoth nearly flat but slightly irregular beds of sandstone and relatively\nthin walls or fins of sandstone are prime targets for this differential\nerosion. Potholes, as shown in figure 18_A_, may be formed in relatively\nflat beds by the dissolving action of repeated accumulations of\nrainwater or snowmelt, even in arid regions like the Plateau.\nRelatively thin walls, or fins as they are called in parts of the\nPlateau including Arches, are targets for the formation of alcoves and\ncaves by solution of cement and removal of sand by gravity, wind, and\nwater, aided by the prying action of frost in joints, bedding planes, or\nother openings. Once a breakthrough of a wall or fin occurs, weakened\nchunks from the ceiling tend to fall, and natural arches of various\nshapes and sizes are produced. Arches form the strongest shapes for\nsupporting overlying rock loads, as the rock in the arch is compressed\ntoward each abutment by the heavy loads. Blocks of compressed rock\nbeneath a relatively flat ceiling tend to be dislodged also by expansion\ndue to release of pent-up pressure, until a strong self-supporting arch\nis formed. Release of pent-up pressure in rock walls may help also in\ninitiating the formation of alcoves or caves in cliff faces. Man,\nincluding the ancient Greeks, Romans, Egyptians, and others, has long\nmade use of arches in building bridges, aqueducts, temples, cathedrals,\nand other enduring edifices.\nAs vividly shown in figure 12, the Entrada Sandstone on the northeast\nflank of the Salt Valley anticline has been broken by Earth forces into\nthin slabs mostly 10 to 20 feet thick between nearly parallel joints,\nbut, as will be noted in the descriptions of individual arches, some\nrock walls are only 1 or 2 feet thick, whereas others are 50 feet thick\nor more. Some weak or thin slabs have weathered away, leaving the\nstronger or thicker ones as towering fins, particularly in the Fiery\nFurnace and Devils Garden areas. Jointing on a less spectacular scale\nalso has broken the Entrada in areas south of Salt Valley, leaving walls\nor fins of rock.\n    [Illustration: TUNNEL ARCH, reached by short trail north of main\n    trail through Devils Garden. Opening is 26\u00bd feet wide and 22 feet\n    high; span is about 14 feet thick. (Fig. 14)]\nAlthough all the arches in the park were carved from the Entrada\nSandstone, slight differences in their mode of origin or placement\nwithin the Entrada allow them to be grouped into three classes: (1)\nvertical arches formed in the Slick Rock Member alone or in the Slick\nRock and Moab Members, (2) vertical arches formed mainly in the Slick\nRock Member but partly in, and with the aid of, the incompetent\nunderlying Dewey Bridge Member, and (3) horizontal arches, or so-called\npothole arches, formed from the union of a vertical pothole and a\nhorizontal cave. Hereinafter, the three members will be referred to\nalone, without reference to the Entrada.\n    [Illustration: \u201cBABY ARCH,\u201d just southwest of Sheep Rock in\n    Courthouse Towers area. For details, see text. (Fig. 15)]\nBefore giving examples of arches in each of the three classes, it is\nappropriate to remark that the arches and other erosion forms in the\npark represent but a fleeting instant in geologic time. Many of the\npinnacles or piles of rock may be the broken remains of former arches,\nand many of the arches we see may be gone tomorrow, next year, or a few\nhundreds of years and, certainly, before many thousands of years. On the\nother hand, many new arches will form by the processes described above\nas the geologic clock ticks on.\n    [Illustration: BROKEN ARCH, reached by a \u00bd-mile trail leading\n    northward across field that separates Fiery Furnace from Devils\n    Garden. White thin-bedded unit at top is the Moab Member, which\n    rests upon the massive salmon-colored Slick Rock Member. Opening is\n    59 feet wide and 43 feet high. (Fig. 16)]\nTunnel Arch (fig. 14) is a good example of an arch eroded entirely\nwithin the massive Slick Rock Member. Just southwest of Sheep Rock (fig.\n31) is an unnamed opening in the lower part of the Slick Rock Member\nwhich I call \u201cBaby Arch,\u201d because it is one of the newest ones visible\nfrom the park road (fig. 15). It is only 25\u00bd feet wide and 14 feet high\nand penetrates a wall 14 feet thick. Note that the breakthrough probably\nbegan along the prominent recessed bedding plane at the base of the\narch. Its youthfulness is also indicated by the sharp, angular breaks in\nthe ceiling and by the pile of freshly fallen rocks. Some visitors have\nasked park personnel why they have not cleared away such debris! Despite\nits youthfulness, the ceiling has already taken on the shape of an arch.\nBroken Arch (fig. 16) was formed near the top of the Slick Rock Member\nand is strengthened and protected by the more resistant overlying Moab\nMember, which forms the upper half of the span. The crest is only 6 feet\nthick at the thinnest point and is not broken as the name seems to\nimply.\nDouble Arch (fig. 17), \u201cone\u201d of the most beautiful in the park, is in\nThe Windows section near the east end of the road. The southeast arch,\nwhich is 160 feet wide and 105 feet high, is the second largest in the\npark, but the west arch measures only 60 feet wide and 61 feet high. In\ncommon with most arches in The Windows section, these two arches of the\nSlick Rock Member rest upon bases of the weak, easily eroded Dewey\nBridge Member. More rapid erosion of the Dewey Bridge undercut the\narches and hastened their development.\n    [Illustration: DOUBLE ARCH, in The Windows section. (Fig. 17)]\n    [Illustration: PROBABLE STEPS IN FORMATION OF POTHOLE ARCH. _A_,\n    Original pothole probably formed in relatively level bed of\n    sandstone, such as this one, which is in an older rock unit\u2014the\n    White Rim Sandstone Member of the Cutler Formation, a unit not\n    present in Arches. This pothole, which contains 4 feet of water, is\n    in nearby Canyonlands National Park (Lohman, 1974, fig. 17), just\n    north of the edge of the White Rim, about 4\u00bd miles north of the\n    confluence of the Green and Colorado Rivers. Photograph by E. N.\n    Hinrichs. _B_, Pothole is being deepened by solution while cliff is\n    receding toward pothole by weathering. _C_, As erosion continues,\n    pothole and cave in cliff face are growing deeper. _D_, Pothole Arch\n    formed by union of vertical pothole and horizontal cave. _E_,\n    Telephoto view of Pothole Arch from park road near stop 14. Visible\n    span is 90 feet across and 30 feet high. (Fig. 18)]\n    [Illustration: Fig. 18 B]\n    [Illustration: Fig. 18 C]\n    [Illustration: Fig. 18 D]\n    [Illustration: Fig. 18 E]\nThe cause of the wavy bedding in the Dewey Bridge Member, as shown in\nfigure 17 but as better shown in the frontispiece, is not known for sure\nbut generally is regarded to be the result of irregular slumping during\nor just after deposition of the sediments in a body of water, caused by\nthe weight of overlying sediments.\nThe last example I shall take up is Pothole Arch (fig. 18), which\ndiffers from all the other examples in that this arch is roughly\nhorizontal rather than vertical. Most park visitors, including me, were\nnot aware of this interesting feature until after publication of the\npamphlet \u201cThe Guide to an Auto Tour of Arches National Park,\u201d which, as\npreviously noted, may be purchased at the Visitor Center. Pothole Arch\ncaps a ridge high above the road half a mile northwest of Garden of\nEden, so only those who happened to look up at the right place were\naware of its existence.\nA different mode of origin than that given in the caption for figure 18\nis depicted on a poster in the Visitor Center, which shows the pothole\nbeing formed by a waterfall having an apparent flow rate of several\ncubic feet per second. Potholes can be formed in this manner in places\nwhere sufficient streamflow is available, either continuously or\nfollowing rainstorms, but I believe the process depicted in figure 18 is\na more likely mode of origin for Pothole Arch.\nAs aptly stated on a poster in the Visitor Center, how to see the park\ndepends in part upon the question \u201cHow long can you stay?\u201d Inasmuch as\nthe park entrance and Visitor Center are beside a through U.S. Highway\n(163), many motorists first become aware of the park\u2019s existence from\nthe entrance sign, and some take time for at least a quick visit, such\nas a round trip to The Windows section, which can be made in an hour or\nso.\nFor those who have or take more time and are able to walk at least short\ndistances, a visit of 1 or 2 days is a very rewarding experience.\nOthers, particularly avid shutterbugs and those with camping gear,\nprofitably spend from several days to a week or more and hike all or\nmost of the trails.\nRegardless of how long you plan to spend, I urge at least a brief stop\nat the Visitor Center, where excellent displays and a narrated slide\nshow help materially in conveying just what the park has to offer. At\nthe counter you can purchase a copy of \u201cThe Guide to an Auto Tour of\nArches National Park,\u201d which explains the views from each of 25 numbered\nstops along the park road, as well as other reports describing arches or\nother parks and monuments.\nThe park is open the year round, but, like most high deserts, it gets\nrather hot in the summer and cold enough in the winter for occasional\nsnows and is sometimes closed temporarily because of heavy snowfall. The\nweather generally is ideal during the spring and fall. Even though\nsummer daytime temperatures may exceed 100\u00b0F (37.8\u00b0C) and slow down\nhikers, the nights are cool enough for comfortable sleeping beneath\nample covers.\nBefore beginning our trip through the park proper, let us consider a\nbeautiful part many people fail to realize actually belongs to the\npark\u2014the Colorado River canyon forming the southeastern boundary.\n    [Illustration: Petroglyph figure]\nA Trip Through The Park\n                         Colorado River Canyon\nThe southeastern boundary of the park for about 11 miles is the Colorado\nRiver, from the bridge on which U.S. Highway 163 crosses the river to a\npoint upstream about half a mile below the mouth of Salt Wash.\nIlluminated night float trips down part of this reach are run during the\nsummer, as noted on p. 16. Partly paved State Highway 128 follows the\nsoutheast side of the river for about 30 miles to Dewey Bridge, then\ngoes northward about 15 miles to Cisco, where it connects with Highway\nThe rocks of the Glen Canyon Group form the southernmost corner of the\npark, as shown in figure 19. About 2 miles northeast of the bridge, we\ncross the axis of the Courthouse syncline (fig. 9), which brings the\nNavajo Sandstone down nearly to river level, as shown in figure 20. The\nunderlying Kayenta Formation is largely hidden by vegetation and\nalluvial deposits in this view.\n    [Illustration: GLEN CANYON GROUP, forming southernmost point of\n    park, as viewed across the Colorado River from State Highway 128\n    half a mile above Moab bridge carrying U.S. Highway 163. Massive\n    sandstone forming about the lower third of cliff is the Wingate\n    Sandstone, darker thin-bedded sandstones and mudstones forming\n    middle section of cliff comprise the Kayenta Formation, upper cliff\n    is the lower part of the Navajo Sandstone. Note that the saltcedar\n    (tamarisk), which lines both banks of the river, is in full bloom.\n    [Illustration: NAVAJO SANDSTONE CLIFFS, bordering west bank of\n    Colorado River in Courthouse syncline, from State Highway 128 about\n    2 miles above the Moab bridge. Note rounded domes at top of cliff.\n    [Illustration: MOUTH OF SALT WASH, viewed across Colorado River from\n    point on State Highway 128, 11 miles above Moab bridge. Dark cliffs\n    on upper right and left are of Wingate Sandstone capped by thin\n    protective cover of resistant sandstone beds of the Kayenta\n    Formation. In background Wingate is overlain by entire Kayenta\n    Formation and lower part of the Navajo Sandstone. Wingate is\n    underlain to river level by weathered slope of the Chinle Formation.\n    Water in Salt Wash is largely backwater from the bankfull river;\n    actual flow in wash generally is much less but at times reaches\n    flood proportions. (Fig. 21)]\nAbout 11 miles above the Moab bridge is the mouth of Salt Wash (fig. 1),\nas viewed from State Highway 128. (See fig. 21.) Seventeen miles above\nthe bridge (east of area shown in fig. 1), we get an excellent view of\nthe southeast end of the highly faulted Cache Valley anticline, as shown\nin figure 22. The background shown in the photograph formerly was the\neasternmost part of the former monument, but when the monument graduated\nto a park on November 16, 1971, this part of Cache Valley along with\nmost of Dry Mesa was withdrawn from the park and put under the\nsupervision of the Bureau of Land Management, also a part of the\nDepartment of the Interior.\n    [Illustration: SOUTHEAST END OF FAULTED CACHE VALLEY ANTICLINE,\n    viewed northwestward across Colorado River from a point on State\n    Highway 128, 17 miles above Moab bridge. High cliff of Wingate\n    Sandstone on left is capped by thin protective layer of the Kayenta\n    Formation. About upper third of slope below base of cliff is the\n    Chinle Formation, below which is the Moenkopi Formation extending to\n    high-water level. Note bent and broken beds on right. (Fig. 22)]\nAs noted on page 16, part of \u201cRun, Cougar, Run\u201d was filmed just upstream\nfrom the irrigated field in the foreground of figure 22, in a wide part\nof the valley called Professor Valley (fig. 7). This valley and the\nRichardson Amphitheater on the southeast side of the river were named\nafter a Professor Richardson who settled in the area in the 1880\u2019s. The\nlong abandoned townsite of Richardson was 1\u00bc miles due east from the\npoint from which figure 22 was taken.\nThe junction of the park road with U.S. Highway 163 is shown at the\nlower left of figure 23, and the entrance station, Visitor Center,\nparking lot, and several buildings are seen at the lower right. Several\nresidences for park personnel and other buildings are shown in figure\n25. As shown in the lower part of figure 23, the geology at the park\nentrance is rather complex, as the park boundary here is partly along\nthe Moab fault and partly along a branch fault\u2014both in the Seven\nMile-Moab Valley anticline (fig. 7). The Moab fault extends\nnorthwestward from Moab for more than 30 miles (McKnight, 1940, p. 120,\nAs shown in figure 23, soon after leaving the checking station the park\nroad begins to ascend the first of several switchbacks, and cuts first\ninto the Slick Rock Member, then the Dewey Bridge Member, and finally\nthe Navajo Sandstone the rest of the way to and beyond the top of the\nhill.\nFrom points a mile or so up the hill may be seen interesting features in\nseveral directions.[5] The view to the southwest is shown in figure 23,\nto the west are the Three Penguins (fig. 24). A good view of the Moab\nValley is had by looking southeastward (fig. 25). A well in the Navajo\nSandstone at the base of the hill supplies water to all the residences\nand to the Visitor Center, where a drinking fountain and modern\nrestrooms are available to the public. Storage is provided by a steel\ntank hidden in a ravine above the buildings shown in figure 25.\nTo the north the wall of Entrada Sandstone is cut by a normal fault\n(fig. 6), as shown in figure 26.\n    [Illustration: FAULTED SEVEN MILE-MOAB VALLEY ANTICLINE. Top, View\n    toward the southwest from park road about 1 mile above entrance\n    station. Bottom, Geologic interpretation of photograph in part after\n    McKnight (1940, pl. 1). Moab fault and branch fault (both normal\n    faults, fig. 6) unite just beyond ridge of Slick Rock Member. Total\n    vertical displacement along both faults is about 2,500 feet. H.F.,\n    unnamed upper member of Hermosa Formation; M.F., Moenkopi Formation;\n    D, downthrown side of faults; U, upthrown side. Valley fill and\n    slope wash of recent (Holocene) age obscure faults and underlying\n    rocks. The original sequence of the rocks may be visualized by\n    placing the Navajo Sandstone, the upper part of which is exposed at\n    the lower right, on top of the Kayenta Formation, the lower few feet\n    of which cap and protect the cliffs of Wingate Sandstone in the\n    background. The Pacific Northwest (gas) Pipeline mentioned on page\n    15 is buried beneath the slice of the Moenkopi Formation between the\n    two faults, which accounts for the disturbed appearance of the rock.\n    [Illustration: Geologic interpretation of photograph]\n    [Illustration: THREE PENGUINS, viewed westward from park road about\n    1 mile above entrance station. Penguins are carved in massive Slick\n    Rock Member seen resting upon thin-bedded Dewey Bridge Member. (Fig.\n    [Illustration: MOAB VALLEY, viewed southeastward from park road\n    about 1 mile above entrance station. Moab fault in about middle of\n    valley, hidden beneath recent (Holocene) valley fill and slope wash,\n    separates unnamed upper member of Hermosa Formation just above U.S.\n    Highway 163 on right from Navajo Sandstone forming hills on left and\n    ledges in foreground. Park Service residences at base of hill. White\n    patch bordering Colorado River on northwest is tailings pile of\n    Atlas Corporation\u2019s uranium mill. Moab and Spanish Valley are beyond\n    river, and south end of La Sal Mountains forms distant skyline.\n    [Illustration: FAULTED WALL OF ENTRADA SANDSTONE, north of park road\n    about 1 mile above entrance station. Fault is nearly vertical and\n    normal (fig. 6), but fault trace slopes steeply downward to right,\n    separating upthrown Slick Rock and Dewey Bridge Members on left from\n    downthrown Slick Rock Member on right. Light-colored rock in\n    foreground is Navajo Sandstone. Displacement probably does not\n    exceed 50 feet. (Fig. 26)]\n    [Illustration: PARK AVENUE, viewed to the north along trail. (Fig.\n                         Courthouse Towers Area\nAbout 2.3 miles from the entrance station is a turnoff and parking area\nat the south end of the Park Avenue trail (stop 2), which is about 1\nmile long and ends at another parking area 1.7 miles farther north. An\ninteresting hike is best made from south to north in a downhill\ndirection, and hikers generally meet the cars of relatives or friends\nawaiting them at the northern parking area. The trail begins in a canyon\ncut in the soft Dewey Bridge Member and walled by high fins of the Slick\nRock Member (fig. 27), but farther north the canyon is floored by the\nbare Navajo Sandstone. The avenue was named from the resemblance of the\neast wall to a row of tall buildings. Atop the west wall, just to the\nleft of the view in figure 27, are two balanced rocks (fig. 28). The one\non the left, which resembles somewhat the head of an Egyptian queen, is\noffset to the right along a bedding plane, and this offset may have been\ncaused by an earthquake.\nAs we progress toward Courthouse Towers proper, lofty fins and monoliths\nlie mostly on our left, and to the right are fine distant views of the\nLa Sal Mountains (stop 4). A general view of the Courthouse Towers is\nshown in figure 29, and closeups of two of the named rock sculptures\u2014the\nThree Gossips and Sheep Rock\u2014are shown in figures 30 and 31. Just beyond\nSheep Rock, which some think resembles the Sphinx, we see \u201cBaby Arch,\u201d\nshown in figure 15.\nFive miles from the entrance station, the road crosses Courthouse Wash\non a modern bridge (stop 6)\u2014a distinct improvement over the two tracks\nin the sand we used in 1946. The Courthouse syncline, named after the\nwash, extends northwestward through here. (See figs. 8, 9, 20.) About a\nmile west of the bridge, Professor Stevens found another pothole arch. A\nmile and a half north of the bridge is stop 7, where attention is called\nin the booklet to the vast area of \u201cpetrified dunes\u201d east of the road,\nwhich are simply dunelike exposures of the crossbedded Navajo Sandstone\nformed originally by the cementation of a vast area of sand dunes. My\nview of these was taken about 1 mile beyond the stop (fig. 32).\n    [Illustration: BALANCED ROCKS ON SOUTH WALL OF PARK AVENUE, at south\n    end of trail. (Fig. 28)]\n    [Illustration: COURTHOUSE TOWERS, viewed to the northwest from point\n    on park road about three-fourths of a mile northeast of the south\n    end of Park Avenue trail. Sandstone towers are Slick Rock Member\n    resting on Dewey Bridge Member, which also forms foreground. Three\n    Gossips at upper left, Sheep Rock just beyond. The Organ and Tower\n    of Babel are on right. (Fig. 29)]\n    [Illustration: THE THREE GOSSIPS, shown at upper left of figure 29.\n    [Illustration: SHEEP ROCK, shown on center-left skyline in figure\nWest of the road between the petrified dunes and The Windows section,\nthe Entrada Sandstone, particularly the Dewey Bridge Member, has been\nweathered into grotesque spires and pinnacles resembling the so-called\n\u201choodoos and goblins\u201d in Goblin Valley State Park, just north of\nHanksville, Utah. Typical examples of \u201choodoos and goblins\u201d are shown in\nfigure 33 (near stop 8). It seems reasonable to assume that some of\nthese spires are the skeletal remains of former arch abutments. From\nhere may be seen North and South Windows and Turret Arch on the skyline\nto the northeast (figs. 37-40).\n    [Illustration: PETRIFIED SAND DUNES, looking northeast from park\n    road 2.7 miles north of Courthouse Wash. The Navajo Sandstone was\n    once a huge sandpile of dunes laid down by winds during an arid\n    interval, so it is interesting to note that the irregularly\n    weathered sandstone once again resembles a pile of crossbedded\n    dunes. See also figure 35. (Fig. 32)]\n    [Illustration: \u201cHOODOOS AND GOBLINS,\u201d weathered from Dewey Bridge\n    Member, viewed northwest from park road about 2\u00bd miles north of\n    Courthouse Wash. (Fig. 33)]\nThe Windows section, one of the most beautiful parts of the park, once\nwas the only readily accessible part of the former monument and is still\nthe only collection of arches seen by many visitors who either do not\nhave or do not take time to travel farther north. All the arches and\nerosion forms are on or near a high crest called Elephant Butte (Dane,\n1935, p. 126, 127), which separates Salt Valley from the Courthouse\nsyncline. The ridge also marks the south edge of several minor\nanticlines and synclines termed by Dane the \u201cElephant Butte folds.\u201d\n    [Illustration: EYE OF THE WHALE, one of several arches in Herdina\n    Park, just south of jeep trail about 2 miles northwest of Balanced\n    Rock. Cut in Slick Rock Member. Front opening is 60 feet wide and 27\n    feet high, but back opening is only 35 feet wide and 11 feet high.\n    Photograph by Professor Dale J. Stevens, Brigham Young University.\nGuarding the approach to The Windows section is Balanced Rock (stop 9).\nAs shown in the frontispiece, it is accompanied on the right by another\nbalanced rock and a third one may be seen in the distance. The original\nroute to The Windows section, pioneered by Goulding, passed just north\nof Balanced Rock. Traces of the old road between here and the Garden of\nEden parking area are still visible but no longer used. To the west,\nhowever, a part of the old road is the starting point of a jeep trail\nleading northwestward through Herdina Park to a point near Klondike\nBluffs, where it joins the dirt road in Salt Valley (fig. 1). Visitors\nhaving four-wheel-drive vehicles may wish to drive at least as far as\nEye of The Whale (fig. 34), which is about 2 miles northwest of Balanced\nRock. There are several picnic tables at the beginning of this jeep\ntrail, but no water.\n    [Illustration: INTRICATE CROSSBEDS IN NAVAJO SANDSTONE, on north\n    side of road between Garden of Eden and Cove of Caves. Red crest is\n    basal part of Dewey Bridge Member. (Fig. 35)]\nJust beyond Balanced Rock, a branch paved road turns eastward 2\u00bd miles\nto the main parking lots in The Windows section. Between the Garden of\nEden (stop 13) and Cove of Caves are spectacular exposures of the Navajo\nSandstone showing the crossbedding typical of the original dunes (fig.\n35). Just east of the crossbedded Navajo Sandstone, shown in figure 35,\nwe pass Cove Arch and Cove of Caves (stop 10) on the north side of the\nroad (fig. 36).\nJust around the curve east of Cove of Caves is the first of two parking\nlots (stop 11) forming a one-way loop at the end of this branch of the\nroad. From the loop may be seen the greatest concentration of readily\naccessible arches in the park, all of which are roofed by the Slick Rock\nMember and floored by the Dewey Bridge Member. Let us take the short\npaved trail from the upper lot to the southeast, where we come first to\nNorth Window (fig. 37). If we walk through this arch and climb the rock\nbeyond (fig. 37 caption), we see one of the best views in the park (fig.\n38). A short walk south of North Window brings us to South Window (fig.\n39). The other side of this arch may be reached either by walking around\nthe nearby southeast end of the fin or by walking through North Window.\nA short walk to the southwest brings us to Turret Arch\u2014the one seen\nthrough North Window in figure 38. Figure 40 was taken from the\nsouthwest side of Turret Arch, viewed northeastward toward South Window,\none corner of which appears at the left. Both North and South Windows\nmay be seen in one photograph taken from points near Turret Arch.\n    [Illustration: COVE ARCH AND COVE OF CAVES, on north side of road\n    just west of Double Arch and Parade of Elephants. Arch at left and\n    three of the caves on right are roofed by Slick Rock Member and\n    floored by Dewey Bridge Member. Arch is 48\u00bd feet wide and 34 feet\n    high. In time the caves will eat through the 30-foot-thick fin and\n    become arches. Note sharp contact between Dewey Bridge Member and\n    Navajo Sandstone. (Fig. 36)]\n    [Illustration: NORTH WINDOW, viewed to the northeast. Large rock\n    seemingly partly blocking left end of arch actually is the southeast\n    end of a fin some 50 feet or more beyond the arch, from which figure\n    38 was taken. Arch is 93 feet wide and 51 feet high. (Fig. 37)]\nFrom the lower parking lot (stop 12), a short walk by paved trail takes\nus to spectacular Double Arch, shown in figure 17. This arch is visible\nfrom the parking lot but is best seen and photographed from at or near\nthe end of the trail. Looking westward from near the trail\u2019s end, we see\nthe Parade of Elephants, shown in figure 41. This feature is described\non pages 16 and 17 of \u201cThe Guide to an Auto Tour of Arches National\nPark\u201d as \u201cwhimsical stone statuary resembling a circus pachyderm parade.\nWith tail in trunk, the elephants rumble toward you along a sandstone\nroadway.\u201d\nRibbon Arch, on the north side of Elephant Butte, is one of the most\ndelicate ones in the park (fig. 1). Although it is 50 feet wide and 55\nfeet high, the rock span is only 1\u00bd feet wide and 1 foot thick.\nOn the way back to the intersection with the main park road, we pass\nstop 14, from which may be seen Pothole Arch (fig. 18). One and one-half\nmiles north of the intersection with the main road is the Panorama Point\nparking area (stop 15), which affords fine distant views of Salt and\nCache Valleys and points beyond. A roadside exhibit portrays the gradual\ndevelopment of the Salt Valley anticline, which supplements my\ndescription on pages 27-32. A parking space a short distance farther\ndown the hill (stop 16) provides good distant views of the Fiery\nFurnace. I tried several telephoto shots from this viewpoint, but\npreferred my closeup views, such as the one shown in figure 44.\n    [Illustration: LOOKING SOUTHWESTWARD THROUGH NORTH WINDOW, from fin\n    shown beyond left side of North Window in figure 37. Turret Arch\n    (fig. 40) is seen at right middle ground, south rim of Moab Valley\n    to left of arch, Colorado River canyon forms left skyline. (Fig.\n    [Illustration: SOUTH WINDOW, viewed toward northeast. Arch is 105\n    feet wide and 66 feet high. See text. (Fig. 39)]\nTwo and a half miles northeast of the road intersection near Balanced\nRock, a gravelled side road leads northeastward to several points of\nconsiderable interest. The photograph in figure 11 was taken from this\nside road about half a mile northeast of the intersection. About 2 miles\nto the northeast, just beyond Salt Valley Wash, is a parking area (stop\n17) at the beginning of the trail past Wolfe\u2019s Bar-DX Ranch (fig. 3) to\nfamed Delicate Arch, which is featured on the front cover. Although the\ntrail to the arch is only 1\u00bd miles long, it crosses several hills at the\noutset, then climbs 500 feet, mostly on bare Entrada Sandstone, so is\nconsidered quite strenuous, particularly in hot weather. The Park\nService advises hikers to carry water. The Walt Disney crew, cameras,\ngear, cougars, and all climbed this trail in the hottest part of the\nsummer of 1971 (see p. 16), while my wife and I were working in the\nvicinity. Visitors who do not wish to make the hike may get a distant\nview of Delicate Arch by driving to a parking area (stop 18) 1.3 miles\nfarther east.\n    [Illustration: TURRET ARCH, viewed northeast toward South Window,\n    part of which is visible on left. Small opening on right is visible\n    also in figure 38. Largest arch is 39 feet wide and 64 feet high;\n    smaller one is 12 feet wide and 13 feet high. A still smaller one,\n    not visible in the photograph, is 8 feet wide and only 4\u00bd feet high.\n    [Illustration: PARADE OF ELEPHANTS, viewed west from end of trail to\n    Double Arch. Two elephants are on right, one on left. (Fig. 41)]\nAfter leaving Wolfe\u2019s Ranch, the trail to Delicate Arch crosses Salt\nWash on a suspension foot bridge (fig. 42). Just beyond the bridge, a\nshort walk to the left (north) leads to the Ute petroglyphs shown in the\nlower photograph of figure 2. The most difficult part of the trail, on\nbare sandstone, is marked by cairns of stones placed at sufficient\nintervals to keep hikers from losing the barely visible trail. When the\nsummit finally is reached and the last corner rounded, one suddenly sees\nperhaps the most sublime view in the park\u2014famed Delicate Arch, framing\npart of the La Sal Mountains beyond (fig. 43). This graceful arch and\nmighty Landscape Arch (fig. 53) were considered to be in serious\njeopardy during the era of sonic booms, but hopefully this danger now is\nIt may be of interest to shutterbugs that professional photographer Hal\nRumel lugged an 8- \u00d7 10-inch camera plus a heavy tripod and accessories\nup the steep trail to get the excellent photograph of Delicate Arch\nshown in figure 43. The late afternoon sun intensified the red somewhat,\nbut my shots made earlier in the day using both 4- \u00d7 5-inch and 35-mm\nequipment resulted in unwanted shadows, even though the salmon color of\nthe Slick Rock Member was more nearly normal.\nAfter leaving the junction with the side road, the main park road\ntraverses slices of vertical strata squeezed between faults along the\nnorth side of Salt Valley, then gradually climbs out of the valley for\nabout 2 miles to a parking area (stop 19), from which good views are had\nof the southeast end of Salt Valley and of the grabens in the west end\nof Cache Valley. (See fig. 11.)\n    [Illustration: Petroglyph figure]\n    [Illustration: SUSPENSION FOOT BRIDGE ACROSS SALT WASH, in front of\n    Wolfe\u2019s cabin at beginning of Delicate Arch trail. (Fig. 42)]\n    [Illustration: DELICATE ARCH, from end of trail 1\u00bd miles above\n    Wolfe\u2019s Ranch. The opening is 33 feet wide and 45 feet high. The\n    left abutment is only 5 feet wide at the narrowest point. The arch\n    is carved near the top of the Slick Rock Member, and the top of the\n    span, 19 feet thick, is capped by a few feet of the more resistant\n    Moab Member, as is Broken Arch (fig. 16). Photograph by Hal Rumel,\n    Salt Lake City. (Fig. 43)]\nAbout half a mile farther uphill is a parking area for viewing the\nsoutheastern part of the Fiery Furnace (stop 20), a vast array of\ntowering fins and pinnacles of the reddish Slick Rock Member separated\nby narrow slots, vaguely resembling flames shooting skyward. The view of\nthe Fiery Furnace in figure 44 was taken about 1 mile farther up the\nhill. It is not difficult to get lost among this myriad of fins and\nnarrow slots, so ranger-guided tours are conducted during the summer.\nAbout 1 mile farther northwest is a parking area (stop 23) from which a\nshort walk to the north end of Fiery Furnace leads to a narrow slot\nbetween high fins (fig. 45), along which a short sandy trail leads to a\nrecess along the southwest wall containing Sand Dune Arch (fig. 46).\nThis hidden arch receives sunshine only near the middle of the day and\nis a delightful, shady place to rest.\nFrom the entrance to the slot leading to Sand Dune Arch, a trail goes\nhalf a mile north across an open field to Broken Arch, shown in figure\n16. This field, which separates the Fiery Furnace and Devils Garden\nareas, is seen from the air in figure 12.\n    [Illustration: Petroglyph figure]\n    [Illustration: FIERY FURNACE, viewed northwest along park road about\n    1 mile northwest from stop 20. Fins and spires are of the jointed\n    Slick Rock Member (fig. 12), but the top of the Dewey Bridge Member\n    is seen to the right of the curve in the road. (Fig. 44)]\n    [Illustration: TRAIL TO SAND DUNE ARCH, looking northwest away from\n    arch, between towering fins of Slick Rock Member, at northwest end\n    of Fiery Furnace. Southeast end of Devils Garden in distance. (Fig.\n    [Illustration: SAND DUNE ARCH, in recess along southwest wall of\n    narrow slot shown in figure 45. Slick Rock Member. (Fig. 46)]\n                    Salt Valley and Klondike Bluffs\nBefore proceeding to the end of the paved road, let us take an\nunimproved side road, which turns south about a third of a mile beyond\nthe last stop, in order to see more of Salt Valley and to visit Klondike\nBluffs in the northwestern part of the park. After descending 2.3 miles\nof winding road we reach the normally dry bed of Salt Valley Wash, and\nturn abruptly to the northwest. For the next three-fourths of a mile the\n\u201croad\u201d is simply two tracks in the loose, sandy bed of the wash, which\nobviously should not be travelled when flooded or when there is even a\nhint of rain. In dry weather, however, this road may be travelled by\nordinary passenger car. This stretch of the wash cuts through an\nintruded block of the Paradox Member of the Hermosa Formation consisting\nmainly of gray and brown gypsum, the common salt having been dissolved\nout by ground water. Such an intrusive block of salt-bearing rock is\nknown to geologists as a diapir\u2014not to be confused with the garment\n(diaper) worn by infants.\nFrom here on the road traverses a rather uninteresting stretch of valley\nnorth of Salt Valley Wash. Eleven miles from the starting point, the\nroad reaches an intersection from which a side road leads southwestward\nthree-fourths of a mile to a parking area at the foot of Klondike\nBluffs, which form the south side of Salt Valley. From here, one may\nmake a strenuous hike over a primitive trail about 1\u00bd miles long to\nbeautiful Tower Arch (fig. 47).\nThe valley road continues northwestward from the intersection to and\nbeyond the northwest end of the park and connects with roads to Crescent\nJunction, Thompson, and the Yellow Cat mining district, north of the\nLet us return to the paved road and continue our tour of the park.\nTurning left (northwest) at the intersection with the paved park road,\nwe enter Devils Garden\u2014another large maze of towering red fins separated\nby narrow slots, which resembles the Fiery Furnace. After a third of a\nmile, we reach stop 24 and walk 100 feet or more to the north for a good\nview of Skyline Arch (fig. 48). This arch is very appropriately named,\nas it forms the skyline viewed either from the road on the south or from\nthe campground on the north, from points south of the amphitheater. Less\nwell known is the fact that Skyline Arch is clearly visible to the naked\neye or through binoculars from stretches of Highway I-70 (or old U.S.\nHighways 6 and 50) about 11 miles to the north. Most arches and other\nerosion forms do not change appearance much from day to day or year to\nyear, but some, like \u201cBaby Arch\u201d (fig. 15), show evidence of relatively\nrecent origin. In November 1940 (Abbey, 1971, p. 42) Skyline Arch\nsuddenly doubled in size by the fall of a large rock that occupied what\nis now the northwest half of the arch. Photographs taken before and\nafter this event appear on pages 24 and 25 of the road guide and also in\nthe museum at the Visitor Center.\n    [Illustration: TOWER ARCH, on Klondike Bluffs, viewed eastward. Arch\n    is in Slick Rock Member but tower on left, after which arch was\n    named, is capped by a protective layer of the resistant Moab Member.\n    Opening is 88 feet wide and 43 feet high. Photograph by Robert D.\n    Miller. (Fig. 47)]\n    [Illustration: SKYLINE ARCH, viewed north from point about 100 feet\n    north of stop 24, in Slick Rock Member. Although fins are vertical,\n    note that the strata seem to dip about 15\u00b0 to the right, although\n    the actual dip is to the northeast. (See fig. 50.) (Fig. 48)]\nAnother half mile brings us to a one-way (to right) loop at the end of\nthe park road. Just beyond the beginning of the loop is a parking lot\nand very attractive picnic area containing several picnic tables shaded\nby pi\u00f1on pines at the foot of a towering red fin of the Slick Rock\nMember. Just north of this picnic ground, a paved side road leads\neastward into a truly beautiful, well-equipped campground comprising\nboth back-in and drive-through campsites for trailers, campers, or\ntents; three pairs of modern restrooms, hydrants, and drinking\nfountains; and an amphitheater, where illustrated campfire talks are\ngiven nightly during the summer. The east end of the campground is shown\nin figure 49.\n    [Illustration: CAMPGROUND IN DEVILS GARDEN, viewed northwestward\n    across turn-around at southeastern end. (Fig. 49)]\nDevils Garden in general and the campground in particular are on the\ncrest of a ridge separating Salt Valley to the southwest from the Sagers\nWash syncline to the northeast, which lies north of Yellow Cat Flat and\nnorth of the area shown in figure 1. From the higher parts of the\ncampground striking views are to be had toward the north and northeast,\nparticularly late in the afternoon, as shown in figure 50.\n    [Illustration: VIEW NORTH FROM CAMPGROUND, in late afternoon.\n    Reddish Slick Rock Member capped by light-colored Moab Member are\n    seen dipping northeastward toward Sagers Wash syncline. Book Cliffs,\n    north of Thompson, are 16 miles north on left skyline. (Fig. 50)]\nIn about the middle of the one-way loop at the end of the park road is a\nwell that supplies water to the campground from early in the spring\nuntil the return of freezing weather late in the fall. The well, which\nwas drilled in 1962 to a depth of 900 feet, obtains a small amount of\nwater from the Wingate Sandstone. No water was found in the overlying\nNavajo and Entrada Sandstones because of the pronounced dip of the rocks\ntoward the northeast, which allows any water in these rocks to drain\nnortheastward (Ted Arnow, written commun., 1963). Water from this well\nis pumped to a steel tank in a high part of the campground, whence it\nflows by gravity to the three sets of restrooms.\n    [Illustration: SOUTHEASTERN PART OF DEVILS GARDEN TRAIL, viewed\n    northwestward. Narrow slot between fins of Slick Rock Member\n    indicates local spacing of joints. (Fig. 51)]\nAt the northwest end of the one-way loop is a large parking area for use\nby people hiking the Devils Garden trail. This trail leads to seven of\nthe most interesting arches in the park, all of which are in the Slick\nRock Member, and there are many more farther to the northwest. The\napproximate distances to the seven arches are given in the paragraphs\nthat follow. The trail is paved for about 1 mile as far as Landscape\nArch (fig. 53), but from there to Double O Arch (fig. 56) the trail is\nprimitive, and the Park Service recommends rubber soles as part of the\ntrail is on bare sandstone. For these reasons, many visitors hike only\nas far as Landscape Arch.\n    [Illustration: PINE TREE ARCH, viewed northeastward. Opening is 46\n    feet wide and 48 feet high. Fin is 30 feet thick. (Fig. 52)]\nMuch of the trail, particularly the first part, lies in a narrow slot\nbetween fins of the Slick Rock Member, as shown in figure 51. After\nabout half a mile, a side trail to the north leads to a Y, the\nright-hand fork of which goes to Tunnel Arch (fig. 14). The left-hand\nfork leads to Pine Tree Arch, obviously named for the pi\u00f1on pine framed\nby this arch (fig. 52).\nAt the end of the improved part of the trail, we reach Landscape Arch\n(fig. 53), claimed by the Park Service to be the longest known natural\narch in the world. According to Ouellette (1958) it is 291 feet long and\n118 feet high, but Professor Stevens\u2019 measurements indicate it to be 287\nfeet long and 106 feet high. At its thinnest point on the right, the\nspan is only 11 feet wide and 11 feet thick. In 1958 three young men\nmade what was claimed to be the second known ascent of Landscape Arch,\nusing ropes and other climbing gear, after which they walked across\n(Ouellette, 1958). This crossing was made with the permission of a park\nranger, but such permission is no longer given, for the safety of both\nthe arch and of would-be climbers.\nWall Arch is about a quarter of a mile beyond the end of the improved\npart of the trail, and another three-fourths mile brings us to Navajo\nArch (fig. 54) and Partition Arch (fig. 55). A distant view of Partition\nArch may be had just before reaching Landscape Arch. Part of the\nremaining trail to Double O Arch (fig. 56) is on the top of a low\nsandstone fin, in part between somewhat higher fins and in part above\nlower slots.\n    [Illustration: LANDSCAPE ARCH, viewed southwestward from near end of\n    improved part of Devils Garden trail. Note that ground beneath arch\n    is covered by slope wash and near the middle with what appears to be\n    a small landslide. Slick Rock Member here is more nearly buff than\n    salmon colored, because of a smaller content of iron oxide. Fresh\n    breaks and angular blocks of stone at right abutment indicate\n    relatively recent rock falls. See text for size. (Fig. 53)]\n    [Illustration: NAVAJO ARCH, viewed northeastward from a branch of\n    Devils Garden trail. One of few arches having a flat soil-covered\n    floor. Opening is 40\u00bd feet wide. Photograph by National Park\n    Service. (Fig. 54)]\nBeautiful Double O Arch (fig. 56) is at the end of the Devils Garden\ntrail about 2\u00bd miles northwest of the trailhead. About half a mile\nnorthwest of the trail\u2019s end is a prominent landmark called Dark Angel\n(fig. 57), which is visible in figure 12 and from the unimproved road in\nSalt Valley.\n    [Illustration: PARTITION ARCH, viewed southwestward from near Devils\n    Garden trail. Arch frames part of south wall of Salt Valley and, on\n    skyline, mesas south of Moab Valley. Opening is 27\u00bd feet wide and 26\n    feet high. A smaller opening to the right measures 8\u00bd feet wide and\n    8 feet high. Photograph by Dawn E. Reed. (Fig. 55)]\n    [Illustration: DOUBLE O ARCH, viewed about north from northwest end\n    of Devils Garden trail. Large opening is 71 feet wide and 45 feet\n    high; small one at lower left is 21 feet wide and 11 feet high. Span\n    of large opening is 11 feet wide and 6 feet thick. Arch frames a\n    part of the Book Cliffs about 14 miles to the north. Photograph by\n    Hildegard Hamilton, Flagstaff, Ariz. (Fig. 56)]\n    [Illustration: DARK ANGEL, a shaft of the Slick Rock Member that is\n    an erosional remnant of a once high, narrow fin. About one-half mile\n    northwest of Double O Arch. Photograph by National Park Service.\n    [Illustration: \u201cINDIAN-HEAD ARCH,\u201d in upper Devils Garden. Arch and\n    most of head are in Slick Rock Member, top of head is basal part of\n    Moab Member. Opening is 4 feet wide and 4\u00bd feet high. Photograph by\n    Professor Dale J. Stevens, Brigham Young University. (Fig. 58)]\n    [Illustration: GEOLOGIC TIME SPIRAL, showing the sequence, names,\n    and ages of the geologic eras, periods, and epochs, and the\n    evolution of plant and animal life on land and in the sea. The\n    primitive animals that evolved in the sea during the vast\n    Precambrian Era left few traces in the rocks because they had not\n    developed hard parts, such as shells, but hard shell or skeletal\n    parts became abundant during and after the Paleozoic Era. (Fig. 59)]\n    The Earth is very old\u20144.5 billion years or more according to recent\n    estimates. Most of the evidence for an ancient Earth is contained in\n    the rocks that form the Earth\u2019s crust. The rock layers\n    themselves\u2014like pages in a long and complicated history\u2014record the\n    surface-shaping events of the past, and buried within them are\n    traces of life\u2014the plants and animals that evolved from organic\n    structures that existed perhaps 3 billion years ago.\n    Also contained in rocks once molten are radioactive elements whose\n    isotopes provide Earth scientists with an atomic clock. Within these\n    rocks, \u201cparent\u201d isotopes decay at a predictable rate to form\n    \u201cdaughter\u201d isotopes. By determining the relative amounts of parent\n    and daughter isotopes, the age of these rocks can be calculated.\n    Thus, the results of studies of rock layers (stratigraphy), and of\n    fossils (paleontology), coupled with the ages of certain rocks as\n    measured by atomic clocks (geochronology), attest to a very old\n    Earth!\nProfessor Stevens found 14 arches in what he called upper Devils Garden,\nnorthwest of Double O Arch, and two arches in the northwesternmost\nextension of the park known as Eagle Park (fig. 1). One of the unnamed\narches in upper Devils Garden is shown in figure 58. I am tentatively\ncalling it \u201cIndian-Head Arch,\u201d because of the rather obvious\nresemblance.\nThis ends our journey through Arches National Park, but there remains\nfor consideration a summary of the principal geologic events leading to\nthe formation of this beautiful part of the Colorado Plateau and a brief\ncomparison with the geology of other national parks and monuments on the\nPlateau.\n                      Summary of Geologic History\nHaving finished our geologic trip through Arches National Park, let us\nsee how the arches and other features fit into the bigger scheme of\nthings\u2014the geologic age and events of the Earth as a whole, as depicted\nin figure 59. As shown in figure 4, the rock strata still preserved in\nthe park range in age from Pennsylvanian to Cretaceous, or from about\n300 million to 100 million years old\u2014a span of about 200 million years.\nThis seems an incredibly long time, until one notes that the earth is\nsome 4.5 billion years old, and that our rock pile is but 1/23 or 4\u00bd\npercent of the age of the Earth as a whole. Thus, in figure 59, the\nrocks exposed in the park occupy only about the left half of the top\nwhorl of the spiral.\nBut this is not the whole story. As indicated earlier, younger Mesozoic\nand Tertiary rocks more than 1 mile thick that once covered the area\nhave been carried away by erosion, and if we include these the span is\nincreased to about 250 million years, or nearly a full whorl of the\nspiral.\nDeep tests for oil and gas tell us that much older rocks underlie the\narea, and we have seen that some of these played a part in shaping the\npark we see today. In addition to the Precambrian igneous and\nmetamorphic rocks, there is about 2,000 feet of Paleozoic sedimentary\nrocks older than the Pennsylvanian Paradox Member of the Hermosa\nFormation, most of which was laid down in ancient seas. This includes\nstrata of Cambrian, Ordovician, Devonian, Mississippian, and\nPennsylvanian ages (fig. 59). There are some gaps in the rock record\ncaused by temporary emergence of the land above sea level and erosion of\nthe land surface before the land again subsided below sea level so that\ndeposition could resume. Silurian rocks are absent, presumably because,\nhere, the Silurian Period was dominated by erosion rather than\ndeposition.\nWhile Pennsylvanian and Permian rocks were being laid down in and\nsouthwest of the park, a large area to the northeast, called by\ngeologists the Uncompahgre Highland (because it occupied the same\ngeneral area as part of the present Uncompahgre Plateau), rose slowly\nabove sea level. Whatever Paleozoic rocks were on this rising land plus\npart of the underlying Precambrian rocks were eroded and carried by\nstreams into deep basins to the northeast and southwest. Thus, while\nsome marine or near-shore deposits were being laid down in and south of\nthe park, thousands of feet of red beds were being laid down by streams\nbetween the park and what is now the Uncompahgre Plateau. During part of\nMiddle Pennsylvanian time, a large area, including the park, known as\nthe Paradox basin, was alternately connected to or cut off from the sea,\nso that the water was evaporated during cutoff periods and replenished\nduring periods when connection with the sea resumed. In these huge\nevaporation basins were deposited the salt and gypsum plus some potash\nsalts and shale that now make up the Paradox Member of the Hermosa\nFormation.\nArches National Park contains four northwesterly trending major\nfolds\u2014the Salt Valley and Cache Valley salt anticlines, the Courthouse\nsyncline, and the faulted Moab-Seven Mile anticline, which forms the\nsouthwestern border. How these folds were formed was explained on pages\n27-32. The history of their growth, however, was a long one that began\nabout 300 million years ago in the Pennsylvanian and ended about 50\nmillion years ago in the early Tertiary. The growth of these folds\noccurred in two stages. The first stage, which involved the development\nof the salt cores of the anticlines, ended in the Jurassic with the\nbeginning of Morrison time; the second stage, which involved additional\nfolding that intensified the magnitude and shape of existing folds,\noccurred in the early Tertiary and was followed later by collapse of the\nsalt anticlines. The formation and collapse of the Salt Valley and Cache\nValley anticlines was accompanied by pronounced jointing (fig. 12),\nwhich allowed differential erosion to produce the tall fins in which the\narches were formed.\nThe old Uncompahgre Highland continued to shed debris into the bordering\nbasins until Triassic time, when it began to be covered by a veneer of\nred sandstone and siltstone of the Chinle Formation (Lohman, 1965). The\narea remained above sea level during the Triassic Period and most, if\nnot all, of the Jurassic Period, although the Jurassic Carmel Formation\nwas laid down in a sea that lay just to the west.\nLate in the Cretaceous Period a large part of Central and Southeastern\nUnited States, including the eastern half of Utah, sank beneath the sea\nand received thousands of feet of mud, silt, and some sand that later\ncompacted into the Mancos Shale. This formation, as well as all younger\nand some older strata, has long since been eroded from most of the park\narea, but a little of the Mancos is preserved in the Cache Valley graben\n(fig. 11), and the entire Mancos Shale and younger rocks are present in\nadjacent areas, such as the Book Cliffs north of Green River, Crescent\nJunction, and Cisco (figs. 7, 50, 56).\nThe land rose above the sea at about the close of the Cretaceous and has\nremained above ever since, although inland basins and lakes received\nsediment during parts of the Tertiary Period. Compressive forces in the\nEarth\u2019s crust produced some gentle folding of the strata at the close of\nthe Cretaceous, but more pronounced folding and some faulting occurred\nduring the Eocene Epoch, when most of the Rocky Mountains took form.\nDuring the Miocene Epoch igneous rock welled up into older rocks to form\nthe cores of the nearby La Sal, Abajo, and Henry Mountains. Additional\nuplift and some folding occurred in the Pliocene and Pleistocene Epochs.\nMuch of the course of the Colorado River was established during the\nMiocene Epoch, with some additional adjustments in the late Pliocene and\nearly Pleistocene Epochs (Hunt, C. B., 1969, p. 67). Erosion during much\nof the Tertiary Period and all of the Quaternary Period plus some\nsagging and breaking of the crest of the anticlines, brought on by\nsolution and lateral squeezing of salt beds beneath the Moab-Seven Mile,\nSalt Valley, and Cache Valley anticlines, combined to produce the\nlandscape as we now see it.\nThe Precambrian rocks beneath the area are about 1.5 billion years old;\nso an enormous span of time is represented by the rocks and events in\nand beneath Canyonlands National Park.\nIf we consider the geologic formations that make up the national parks\n(N.P.), national monuments (N.M.) (excluding small historical or\narchaeological ones), Monument Valley, San Rafael Swell, and Glen Canyon\nNational Recreation Area, all in the Colorado Plateau, it becomes\napparent that certain formations or groups of formations play starring\nroles in some parks or monuments, some play supporting roles, and in a\nfew places the entire cast of rocks gets about equal billing. Let us\ncompare them and see how and where they fit into the \u201cGeologic Time\nSpiral\u201d (fig. 59).\nDinosaur N.M., with exposed rocks ranging in age from Precambrian to\nCretaceous, covers the greatest time span (nearly 2 billion years), but\nhas one unit\u2014the Jurassic Morrison Formation\u2014in the starring role, for\nthis unit contains the many dinosaur fossils that give the monument its\nname and fame, although there are several older units in supporting\nroles. Grand Canyon N.P. and N.M. are next, with rocks ranging in age\nfrom Precambrian through Permian (excluding the Quaternary lava flows in\nthe N.M.), but here there is truly a team effort, for the entire cast\ngets about equal billing. Canyonlands N.P. stands third in this\ncategory, with rocks ranging from Pennsylvanian to Jurassic, but we\nwould have to give top billing to the Permian Cedar Mesa Sandstone\nMember of the Cutler Formation, from which The Needles, The Grabens, and\nmost of the arches were sculptured; the Triassic Wingate Sandstone and\nthe Triassic(?) Kayenta Formation get second billing for their roles in\nforming and preserving Island in the Sky and other high mesas.\nNow let us consider other areas with only one or few players in the\ncast, beginning at the bottom of the time spiral. Black Canyon of the\nGunnison N.M., cut entirely in rocks of early Precambrian age with only\na veneer of much younger rocks, obviously has but one star in its cast.\nColorado N.M. contains rocks ranging from Precambrian to\nCretaceous\u2014equal to Dinosaur in this respect, but Colorado is unique in\nthat all the rocks of the long Paleozoic Era and some others are missing\nfrom the cast; of those that remain, the Triassic Wingate and the\nTriassic(?) Kayenta are the stars, with strong support from the Jurassic\nEntrada Sandstone.\nAll the bridges in Natural Bridges N.M. were carved from the Permian\nCedar Mesa Sandstone Member of the Cutler Formation, also one of the\nstars in Canyonlands N.P. In Canyon de Chelly (pronounced dee shay) N.M.\nand Monument Valley (neither a national park nor a national monument, as\nit is owned and administered by the Navajo Tribe), the De Chelly\nSandstone Member of the Cutler Formation\u2014a Permian member younger than\nthe Cedar Mesa\u2014plays the starring role.\nWupatki N.M. near Flagstaff, Ariz., stars the Triassic Moenkopi\nFormation. Petrified Forest N.P. (which now includes part of the Painted\nDesert) has but one star\u2014the Triassic Chinle Formation, in which are\nfound many petrified logs and stumps of ancient trees. The\nTriassic-Jurassic Glen Canyon Group (fig. 19), which includes the\nTriassic Wingate Sandstone, the Triassic(?) Kayenta Formation, and the\nTriassic(?)-Jurassic Navajo Sandstone, receives top billing in recently\nenlarged Capitol Reef N.P., but the Triassic Moenkopi and Chinle\nFormations enjoy supporting roles.\nThe Triassic(?)-Jurassic Navajo Sandstone, which has a supporting role\nin Arches N.P., is the undisputed star of Zion N.P., Rainbow Bridge\nN.M., and Glen Canyon National Recreation Area, despite the fact that\nthe latter is the type locality of the entire Glen Canyon Group. The\nNavajo also forms the impressive reef at the east edge of the beautiful\nSan Rafael Swell, a dome, or closed anticline, now crossed by Highway\nI-70 between Green River and Fremont Junction, Utah.\nAs we journey upward in the time spiral (fig. 59), we come to the\nJurassic Entrada Sandstone, which stars in Arches N.P., with help from\nthe underlying Navajo Sandstone, and a supporting cast of both older and\nyounger rocks. The Entrada also forms the grotesque erosion forms called\n\u201choodoos and goblins\u201d in Goblin Valley State Park, north of Hanksville,\nUtah.\nMoving ever upward in the spiral, we come to the Cretaceous\u2014the age of\nthe starring Mesaverde Group, in which the caves of Mesaverde N.P. were\nformed, and which now house beautifully preserved ruins once occupied by\nthe Anasazi, the same ancient people who once dwelt in Arches N.P. and\nnearby areas.\nThis brings us up to the Tertiary Period, during the early part of which\nthe pink limestones and shales of the Paleocene and Eocene Wasatch\nFormation were laid down in inland basins. Beautifully sculptured\ncliffs, pinnacles, and caves of the Wasatch star in Bryce Canyon N.P.\nand in nearby Cedar Breaks N.M. This concludes our climb up the time\nspiral, except for Quaternary volcanoes and some older volcanic features\nat Sunset Crater N.M., near Flagstaff, Ariz.\nThus, one way or another, many rock units formed during the last couple\nof billion years have performed on the stage of the Colorado Plateau\nand, hamlike, still lurk in the wings eagerly awaiting your applause to\nrecall them to the footlights. Don\u2019t let them down\u2014visit and enjoy the\nnational parks and monuments of the Plateau, for they probably are the\ngreatest collection of scenic wonderlands in the world.\nMany reports covering various aspects of the area have been cited in the\ntext by author and year, and these plus a few additional ones are listed\nin \u201cSelected References.\u201d A few works of general or special interest\nshould be mentioned, however.\nBetween 1926 and 1929 the entire area now included in the park was\nmapped geologically in classic reports by Dane (1935) and by McKnight\n(1940). These men and their field assistants mapped the area by use of\nthe plane-table and telescopic alidade without benefit of modern\ntopographic maps or aerial photographs, except for topographic maps of\nthe narrow stretch along the Colorado River mapped under the direction\nof Herron (1917). Only small sections could be reached by automobile, so\nnearly all the area was traversed using horses and mules or by hiking.\nThis work plus mapping done in nearby areas to the south and to the\nnorth (Stokes, 1952) during the uranium boom of the mid-fifties was used\nby Williams (1964) in compiling a geologic map of the Moab quadrangle at\nSeveral early reports on the Colorado River and its potential\nutilization contain a wealth of information and many fine photographs,\nincluding two by La Rue (1916, 1925) and one by Follansbee (1929).\nYou may be interested in brief accounts of the geology of other national\nparks and monuments, or other areas of special interest, such as the\nreports on the Uinta Mountains by Hansen (1969), Mount Rainier by\nCrandell (1969), Yellowstone National Park by Keefer (1971), and ones by\nme on Colorado National Monument (Lohman, 1965) and Canyonlands National\nFor those who wish to learn more about the science of geology, I suggest\nthe textbook by Gilluly, Waters, and Woodford (1968).\nI am greatly indebted to Bates Wilson, former Superintendent, and to\nformer Assistant Superintendent Joe Carithers, for their splendid\ncooperation in supplying data and information; to Chuck Budge, former\nChief Ranger; Dave May, Assistant Chief of Interpretation and Resource\nManagement; Joe Miller, former Maintenance Engineer; Bob Kerr, new\nSuperintendent; Maxine Newell, Park Historian and member of the staff at\nArches National Park; Jerry Banta, former Park Ranger at Arches; and\nCarl Mikesell, Park Ranger at Arches, for their many favors.\nI am grateful to several colleagues and friends for the loan of\nphotographs, for geologic help and data, and for reviewing this report.\nI am also deeply grateful to my wife, Ruth, for accompanying me on all\nthe fieldwork and for her help and encouragement.\n                          Selected References\n  Abbey, Edward, 1971, Desert solitaire, a season in the wilderness: New\n          York, Ballantine Books, 303 p.\n  Baker, A. A., 1933, Geology and oil possibilities of the Moab\n          district, Grand and San Juan Counties, Utah: U.S. Geol. Survey\n  Baker, Pearl, 1971, The Wild Bunch at Robbers Roost: New York,\n          Aberlard-Schuman, 224 p.\n  Beckwith, Frank, 1934, A group of petroglyphs near Moab, Utah: Santa\n  Breed, Jack, 1947, Utah\u2019s arches of stone: Natl. Geog. Mag., p.\n  Case, J. E., and Joesting, H. R., 1972, Regional geophysical\n          investigations in the central Colorado Plateau: U.S. Geol.\n          Survey Prof. Paper 736, 34 p.\n  Cater, F. W., 1970, Geology of the salt anticline region in\n          southwestern Colorado: U.S. Geol. Survey Prof. Paper 637, 80\n  \u2014\u2014 1972, Salt anticlines within the Paradox Basin, _in_ Geologic atlas\n          of the Rocky Mountain region, United States of America:\n          Denver, Colo., Rocky Mtn. Assoc. of Geologists, p. 137, 138,\n  Cleland, H. F., 1910, North American natural bridges, with a\n          discussion of their origins: Geol. Soc. America Bull., v. 21,\n  Crandell, D. R., 1969, The geologic story of Mt. Rainier: U.S. Geol.\n  Dane, C. H., 1935, Geology of the Salt Valley anticline and adjacent\n          areas, Grand County, Utah: U.S. Geol. Survey Bull. 863, 184 p.\n  Dellenbaugh, F. S., 1902, The romance of the Colorado River: New York,\n          G. P. Putnam\u2019s Sons, 399 p. [reprinted 1962 by Rio Grande\n          Press, Chicago, Ill.]\n  Everhart, W. C., 1972, The National Park Service, Praeger Library of\n          U.S. Government Departments and Agencies No. 13: New York,\n          Praeger Publishers, p. i-xii, 1-276.\n  Follansbee, Robert, 1929, Upper Colorado River and its utilization:\n          U.S. Geol. Survey Water-Supply Paper 617, 394 p.\n  Gilluly, James, Waters, A. C., and Woodford, A. O., 1968, Principles\n          of geology [3d ed.]: San Francisco, W. R. Freeman & Co., 685\n  Hansen, W. R., 1969, The geologic story of the Uinta Mountains [with\n          graphics by John R. Stacy]: U.S. Geol. Survey Bull. 1291, 144\n  Herron, W. R., 1917, Profile surveys in the Colorado River Basin in\n          Wyoming, Utah, Colorado, and New Mexico: U.S. Geol. Survey\n          Water-Supply Paper 396, 6 p., 43 pls.\n  Hite, R. J., 1972, Pennsylvanian rocks, _in_ Geologic atlas of the\n          Rocky Mountain region, United States of America: Denver,\n          Colo., Rocky Mtn. Assoc. of Geologists, p. 133-137.\n  Hite, R. J., and Lohman, S. W., 1973, Geologic appraisal of Paradox\n          basin salt deposits for waste emplacement: U.S. Geol. Survey\n          open-file report, 75 p.\n  Hunt, Alice, 1956, Archeology of southeastern Utah, _in_ Geology and\n          economic deposits of east-central Utah: Salt Lake City,\n          Intermountain Assoc. of Petroleum Geologists, 7th Ann. Field\n  Hunt, C. B., 1956, Cenozoic geology of the Colorado Plateau: U.S.\n          Geol. Survey Prof. Paper 279, 99 p.\n  \u2014\u2014 1969, Geologic history of the Colorado River, _in_ The Colorado\n          River region and John Wesley Powell: U.S. Geol. Survey Prof.\n  Jennings, J. D., 1970, Canyonlands-Aborigines: Naturalist, v. 21,\n          Summer, Special Issue no. 2, p. 10-15.\n  Joesting, H. R., Case, J. E., and Plouff, Donald, 1966, Regional\n          geophysical investigations of the Moab-Needles area, Utah:\n          U.S. Geol. Survey Prof. Paper 516-C, 21 p.\n  Keefer, W. R., 1971, The geologic story of Yellowstone National Park,\n          illustrated by John R. Stacy: U.S. Geol. Survey Bull. 1347, 92\n  Lansford, Henry, 1972, Boatman in the desert, a passenger-carrying\n          sternwheeler in canyon country: \u201cEmpire\u201d [magazine of the\n  La Rue, E. C., 1916, Colorado River and its utilization: U.S. Geol.\n          Survey Water-Supply Paper 395, 231 p.\n  \u2014\u2014 1925, Water power and flood control of Colorado River below Green\n          River, Utah, with a foreword by Hubert Work, Secretary of the\n          Interior, p. 1-100. [Appendix A, A report on water supply, by\n          E. C. La Rue and G. F. Holbrook, p. 101-123; and Appendix B, A\n          geologic report on the inner gorge of the Grand Canyon of\n          Colorado River, by R. C. Moore, p. 125-171]: U.S. Geol. Survey\n          Water-Supply Paper 556, 176 p.\n  Lohman, S. W., 1965, The geologic story of Colorado National Monument\n          [with graphics by John R. Stacy]: Fruita, Colo., Colorado and\n          Black Canyon Natural History Assoc., 56 p.\n  \u2014\u2014 1974, The geologic story of Canyonlands National Park, with\n          graphics by John R. Stacy: U.S. Geol. Survey Bull. 1327, 126\n  McKnight, E. T., 1940, Geology of area between Green and Colorado\n          Rivers, Grand and San Juan Counties, Utah: U.S. Geol. Survey\n  Ouellette, C. M., 1958, Over the top of Landscape Arch: Desert Mag.,\n  Pierson, Lloyd, 1960, Arches National Monument, _in_ Geology of the\n          Paradox basin fold and fault belt: Durango, Colo., Four\n          Corners Geol. Soc. Guidebook, 3d Ann. Field Conf., p. 17-21.\n  Schaafsma, Polly, 1971, Rock art of Utah: Cambridge, Mass., Harvard\n          Univ., Papers of the Peabody Museum of Archaeology and\n  Stacy, J. R., 1962, Shortcut method for the preparation of\n          shaded-relief illustrations, _in_ Short papers in geology,\n          hydrology, and topography 1962: U.S. Geol. Survey Prof. Paper\n  Stokes, W. L., 1952, Uranium-vanadium deposits of the Thompsons area,\n          Grand County, Utah, with emphasis on the origin of carnotite\n          ores: Utah Geol. and Mineralogical Survey Bull. 46, 51 p.,\n          December.\n  \u2014\u2014 1970, Canyonlands\u2014Geology: Naturalist, v. 21, Summer, Special Issue\n  Walters, H. H., 1956, Pacific Northwest Pipeline\u2014The scenic inch, _in_\n          Geology and economic deposits of east-central Utah: Salt Lake\n          City, Intermountain Assoc. of Petroleum Geologists, p.\n  Williams, P. L., 1964, Geology, structure, and uranium deposits of the\n          Moab quadrangle, Colorado and Utah: U.S. Geol. Survey Misc.\n  Wilson, B. E., 1956, Arches National Monument, _in_ Geology and\n          economic deposits of east-central Utah: Salt Lake City,\n          Intermountain Assoc. of Petroleum Geologists, 7th Ann. Field\n  Wright, J. C., Shawe, D. R., and Lohman, S. W., 1962, Definition of\n          members of the Jurassic Entrada Sandstone in east-central Utah\n          and west-central Colorado: Bull. Am. Assoc. Petroleum\n    [Illustration: Petroglyph figure]\nFootnotes\n[1]Mrs. Tanner, of Phoenix, Ariz., is the author of an earlier history\n    of Moab (her hometown). She has completed a revision entitled, \u201cThe\n    Far Country\u2014A Regional History of Moab and La Sal, Utah,\u201d which will\n    be serialized in the Moab Times-Independent, after which it will be\n    published.\n[2]For the benefit of visitors from countries in which the metric system\n    is used, the following conversion factors may be helpful: 1 inch =\n    2.54 centimeters, 1 foot = 0.305 meter, 1 mile = 1.609 kilometers, 1\n    U.S. gallon = 0.00379 cubic meter.\n[3]Barrier Creek flows through Horseshoe Canyon in the detached unit of\n    Canyonlands National Park. The canyon walls are adorned by striking\n    pictographs (Lohman, 1974, fig. 2). \u201cBarrier Canyon style\u201d is named\n    after the pictographs found in Horseshoe Canyon.\n[4]Plastic-relief maps are no longer available from the U.S. Army Map\n    Service but may be obtained from the T. N. Hubbard Scientific Co.,\n    Box 105, Northbrook, Ill. 60062. A topographic map at a scale of\n    1:250,000 of the Moab quadrangle and similar maps at a scale of\n    1:62,500 for the Thompson, Cisco, Moab, and Castle Valley\n    quadrangles are available from the U.S. Geological Survey, Denver\n    Distribution Section, Federal Center, Denver, Colo. 80225, from the\n    Canyonlands Natural History Association at Moab, and from privately\n    owned shops where maps are sold. Most of the park is covered by the\n    Thompson and Moab quadrangles. The southern part of the park is\n    shown also on the Moab 4 NW, Moab 4 NE, and Mt. Waas 3 NW\n    quadrangles at a scale of 1:24,000. A special topographic map of\n    Arches National Park at a scale of 1:50,000 is in preparation by the\n    U.S. Geological Survey. These maps also may be obtained from the\n    above-listed sources.\n[5]This is numbered stop 1 in the booklet referred to earlier \u201cThe Guide\n    to an Auto Tour of Arches National Park,\u201d and corresponds to the\n    numeral one on a small sign at the roadside parking place. Some of\n    the other numbers are given in the pages that follow.\n            [Italic page numbers indicate major references]\n  Artifacts, La Sal and Abajo Mountains                                 9\n  Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Monument                      102\n  Brown-Stanton expedition, exploration                                15\n  Canyon de Chelly National Monument                                  102\n  Canyon Lands Section, Colorado Plateau                            9, 22\n  Canyonlands Natural History Association                               8\n  Cedar Mesa Sandstone Member, Cutler Formation                   22, 102\n      wetter, different landscape produced                             37\n  Colorado Plateau, geologic formations included                      101\n  Colorado River, course established                                  101\n  De Chelly Sandstone Member, Cutler Formation                        102\n  Delicate Arch area, number of arches                                 41\n  Deposition of rock materials, environments                         _20_\n  Dissimilarity of Arches vs. Canyonlands                          23, 24\n  Earthquake, rock offset along bedding plane                          63\n  Float trip, nighttime illuminated, down Colorado River               52\n  Geologic events forming the Colorado Plateau                       _98_\n  Glen Canyon National Recreation Area                           101, 103\n  Goulding, Harry, first person to drive into The Windows section   2, 69\n  Grand Canyon National Park and National Monument                    102\n  \u201cGuide to an Auto Tour of Arches National Park,\u201d (The)    5, 50, 51, 72\n  Horseshoe Canyon Detached Unit of Canyonlands                        23\n  Humid regions, subdued rounded landforms                             37\n  Maxwell, Ross A., investigation of caves                          9, 10\n  Melich, Mitchell, Solicitor General                                   8\n  Mission 66, presidential and congressional support                    4\n  Mississippi River sternwheeler replica                                8\n  Morton, Rogers C. B., Secretary of the Interior                       8\n  Natural Bridges National Monument                        3, 37, 40, 102\n  Needles section, The, Canyonlands National Park                 16, 102\n  Nixon, Richard M., Congressional Bill                                 5\n      Hermosa Formation, average density                               32\n  Park Service. _See_ National Park Service.\n  Pipeline scars, Pacific Northwest Pipeline                           15\n  Powell, John Wesley, Canyonlands National Park                       15\n  Relief map, shaded, Arches National Park, described              18, 19\n  Rock formations, sculptured by erosion                               35\n  Roosevelt, Franklin D., proclamation                                  2\n      properties critical to formation of salt anticlines              30\n  Salt Wash Sandstone Member, Morrison Formation                       14\n  \u201cScenic Inch,\u201d Pacific Northwest Pipeline                            15\n  Slick Rock Member, Entrada Sandstone                                 34\n  Sonic booms, dangers posed to arches                             16, 17\n      introduction of horses to this country                           10\n  Strata, lateral changes across the park                              22\n  Supersonic flights banned, Moab-Times Independent                    17\n  \u201cThe Guide to an Auto Tour of Arches National Park\u201d       5, 50, 51, 72\n  The Needles section, Canyonlands National Park                  16, 102\n  White Rim Sandstone Member, Cutler Formation                         22\n  Windows, distinguished from arches                                 _40_\n    [Illustration: U. S. Department of the Interior, March 3, 1849]\nTranscriber\u2019s Notes\n\u2014Retained publication information from the printed edition: this eBook\n  is public-domain in the country of publication.\n\u2014Corrected a few palpable typos.\n\u2014Included a transcription of the text within some images.\n\u2014In the text versions only, text in italics is delimited by\n  _underscores_.\n\u2014The HTML version contains relative hyperlinks to a companion volume on\n  Canyonlands National Park, Gutenberg eBook #51048.\n\u2014A third book in the series, on Colorado National Monument, was revised\n  after this book was printed.\nEnd of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Geologic Story of Arches National\nPark, by S. W. 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{"source_document": "", "creation_year": 1937, "culture": " English\n", "content": "Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Dave Morgan and the Online\n    [Illustration: Geology of Canyonlands]\n    [Illustration: LOOKING NORTH FROM EAST WALL OF DEVILS LANE, just\n    south of the Silver Stairs. Needles are Cedar Mesa Sandstone.\n    Junction Butte and Grand View Point lie across Colorado River in\n    background.]\n    [Illustration: The Geologic Story of Canyonlands NATIONAL PARK]\n                    GEOLOGICAL SURVEY BULLETIN 1327\n                UNITED STATES DEPARTMENT OF THE INTERIOR\n                    ROGERS C. B. MORTON, _Secretary_\n             Library of Congress catalog-card No. 74-600043\n    [Illustration: U.S. DEPARTMENT OF THE INTERIOR \u00b7 MARCH 3, 1849]\n                 U.S. GOVERNMENT PRINTING OFFICE: 1974\n For sale by the Superintendent of Documents, U.S. Government Printing\n           Washington, D.C. 20402\u2014Price $2.65 (paper covers)\n  Canyons of the Green and Colorado Rivers                             85\n  Frontispiece. Looking north from Devils Lane near Silver Stairs.\n  Figure\n  2. Pictographs on wall of Horseshoe Canyon                           10\n  7. Canyonlands National Park and vicinity                            19\n  9. Rock column of Canyonlands National Park                          22\n  10. Section across Canyonlands National Park                         24\n  11. Aerial view of The Neck and Shafer Trail                         28\n  13. Cane Creek anticline (viewed from Dead Horse Point)              30\n  15. Looking southwest from Dead Horse Point                          32\n  21. Monument Basin from Grand View Point                             41\n  27. Junction Butte and Grand View Point                              48\n  30. Looking north from Anticline Overlook                            51\n  31. Cane Creek anticline (viewed from Anticline Overlook)            52\n  34. Elaterite seeping from White Rim Sandstone                       59\n  40. Aerial view eastward across Salt Canyon                          65\n  60. The confluence from Confluence Overlook                          83\n  66. Drainage changes at Anderson Bottom Rincon                       94\n  73. Relatively recent rincons along Indian Creek                    103\nOn September 12, 1964, President Lyndon B. Johnson signed an act of\nCongress establishing Canyonlands as our thirty-second national park,\nthe first addition to the park system since 1956.\nThe birth of Canyonlands National Park was not without labor pains. In\nthe 1930\u2019s virtually all the vast canyon country between Moab, Utah, and\nGrand Canyon, Ariz., was studied for a projected Escalante National\nPark. But Escalante failed to get off the ground, even when a second\nattempt was made in the 1950\u2019s. Not until another proposal had been made\nand legislative compromises had been worked out did the park\nmaterialize, this time under a new name\u2014Canyonlands. Among the many\ndignitaries who witnessed the signature on September 12 was one of the\nmen most responsible for the park\u2019s creation, park superintendent Bates\nE. Wilson, who did the pioneer spade work in the field.\nThe newborn park covered 400 square miles[1] at the junction of the\nGreen and Colorado Rivers in Utah. It included such magnificent features\nas Island in the Sky, The Needles, Upheaval Dome, and the two great\nstone formations, Angel Arch and Druid Arch. On November 16, 1971,\nPresident Richard M. Nixon signed an act of Congress enlarging the park\nby 125 square miles in four separate parcels of land, so the area now\ntotals 525 square miles, all in southeastern Utah, as shown on the map\n(fig. 1). The northern boundary was extended to include parts of Taylor\nand Shafer Canyons. The addition at the southeast corner takes in the\nheadwaters of Salt and Lavender Canyons and part of Davis\u2019 Canyon. The\nlargest addition, at the southwest corner, includes grotesquely carved\nareas bearing such colorful names as The Maze, Land of Standing Rocks,\nThe Fins, The Doll House (fig. 36), and Ernies Country (named after\nErnie Larson, an early-day sheepman). The fourth parcel lies about 8\nmiles west of the northwest corner and encompasses much of Horseshoe\nCanyon, whose walls are adorned by striking pictographs (fig. 2).\nAt this writing (1973) the park is still in its infancy, with most of\nthe planned developments and improvements awaiting time and money, but a\ngood start has been made. In 1960 my family and I first traversed Island\nin the Sky to Grand View Point over a rough jeep trail; now it is\nreached with ease over a good graded road which eventually will be\npaved. A temporary trailer-housed entrance station near The Neck will be\nreplaced by permanent headquarters for the Island in the Sky district\nafter water is piped up from wells drilled near the mouth of Taylor\nCanyon.\nIn August 1965, when the Park was but 11 months old, we drove the family\ncar over a two-track dirt \u201croad\u201d from Dugout Ranch to Cave\nSpring\u2014temporary headquarters for the Needles district of the park,\nwhose personnel were housed partly in trailers and partly in the cave.\nNow a modern paved highway, built by the State (Utah Highway 11) for 19\nmiles to Dugout Ranch and by San Juan County, the State of Utah, and the\nNational Park Service for the next 18 miles, extends a total of 38 miles\nfrom U.S. Highway 163 to a new modern campground at Squaw Flat (fig.\n39). The entrance station and housing for park personnel are now in\ntrailers about 2 miles west of Cave Spring, but the trailers will be\nreplaced by permanent structures. A shallow well near temporary\nheadquarters supplies the only water available to the campground 1.5\nmiles to the west, but a new supply is to be developed for the\ncampground and permanent headquarters. Groceries, gasoline, trailer\nhookups, and charter flights are available at Canyonlands Resort, just\noutside the eastern park boundary. The old cowboy line camp at Cave\nSpring has been restored so that visitors can see this phase of colorful\nCanyonlands history (fig. 6). Except for 2\u00bd miles of partly graded road\nwest from Squaw Flat, all travel to the west and south is by\nfour-wheel-drive vehicle or on foot. In order to reach the confluence of\nthe Green and Colorado Rivers, The Grabens, and Chesler and Virginia\nParks, drivers must conquer formidable Elephant Hill, with its 40\npercent grades and backup switchbacks. SOB Hill and the Silver Stairs\nalso tax the skill and patience of jeepsters. Parts of this area will\neventually be reached by graded roads, possibly by about 1977, but many\nhope that much of it will be kept accessible only by jeep or foot\ntrails.\nBates Wilson, recently retired superintendent not only of Canyonlands\nNational Park but also of nearby Arches National Park and of Natural\nBridges National Monument about 80 miles to the south, is one of the few\nmen in the park service who has guided a national park through all\nphases\u2014location, promotion, establishment, and initial development. He\nretired in June 1972 to a ranch along the Colorado River north of Moab.\nUnless credited to others, for which grateful acknowledgment is made,\nthe color photographs were taken by me. Most of these were taken on 4-\nby 5-inch film in a tripod-mounted press camera using lenses of several\nfocal lengths, but a few were taken on 35-millimeter film. Unless\ncredited to others, the black and white photographs were kindly loaned\nfrom the Moab and Arches files of the National Park Service. The points\nfrom which most of the photographs were taken are shown in figure 19.\n    [Illustration: Petroglyph]\nMajor Powell\u2019s River Expeditions\nAlthough Major John Wesley Powell was not the first geologist to view\nthe canyon lands, his two daring boat trips down the Green and Colorado\nRivers in 1869 and 1871 made history by bringing to light the first\ndescriptions of the geography and geology of what was then the largest\nremaining uncharted wilderness in the United States. Many landmarks\nalong the canyons in the park were named by Powell and his men during\nthose explorations. J. S. Newberry is thought to have been the first\ngeologist to view the canyon lands\u2014at least he seems to have been the\nfirst one whose observations were recorded (1861), but the more\ncomprehensive findings of Powell (1875) were the ones that made history.\nThe 100th anniversary of Major Powell\u2019s pioneer exploration of the Green\nand Colorado Rivers was commemorated in 1969 by a national centennial\nsponsored jointly by the U.S. Department of the Interior, the\nSmithsonian Institution, the National Geographic Society, and many other\norganizations. This touched off many magazine and newspaper articles,\nseveral commemorative programs and dedications, and several publications\nof lasting interest. Noteworthy among the latter is U.S. Geological\nSurvey Professional Paper 669 entitled \u201cThe Colorado River Region and\nJohn Wesley Powell.\u201d Of its four separate parts, two are of special\ninterest to our Canyonlands story: part A, \u201cJohn Wesley Powell: Pioneer\nStatesman of Federal Science,\u201d by Rabbitt (1969) and part C, \u201cGeologic\nHistory of the Colorado River,\u201d by Hunt (1969). An interesting history\nof the National Park Service by Everhart (1972) was published as part of\nthe national park centennial effort. The Powell Society, Ltd., of\nDenver, Colo., was founded mainly to publish four \u201cRiver Runners\u2019 Guides\nto the Canyons of the Green and Colorado Rivers, with Emphasis on\nGeologic Features,\u201d covering five reaches of the two rivers from Flaming\nGorge Dam, Utah, to Grand Canyon, Ariz. One of these by Mutschler (1969)\ncovers Labyrinth, Stillwater, and Cataract Canyons, all in Canyonlands\nNational Park. Another guidebook by Baars and Molenaar (1971) covers the\nColorado River from about Potash, Utah, to the confluence with the\nGreen, and Cataract Canyon. It is difficult to realize that thousands of\npeople annually now boat down the canyons Powell dared to explore\nwithout knowledge of the dangers that lay ahead.\nDuring the summer of 1968 a U.S. Geological Survey expedition led by\nEugene M. Shoemaker retraced the historic 1869 and 1871 river voyages of\nMajor Powell, in order to reoccupy the camera stations of the 1871\nvoyage and rephotograph the same scenes nearly 100 years later.\nRemarkably enough, about 150 camera stations were recovered, many\nrequiring considerable search, and official photographer Hal G. Stephens\nrephotographed the scenes taken with cumbersome wet-plate cameras nearly\n100 years earlier by E. O. Beaman (above the site of Lees Ferry) and by\nJ. K. Hillers (below the site). A report containing these remarkable\nsets of before and after photographs hopefully will be published\neventually as a delayed part of the Powell centennial. A few pairs have\nbeen published by others (Baars and Molenaar, 1971, p. 90-99), and two\npairs are shown herein as figures 62 and 67. As these photographs show,\nin most places the rocks and even the vegetation remain virtually\nunchanged after nearly a century, but a few other pairs not included\nherein show catastrophic changes resulting from local floods or\nrockfalls.\n    [Illustration: CANYONLANDS NATIONAL PARK, showing location in Utah,\n    Lake Powell, Dead Horse Point State Park, boundaries, streams,\n    roads, trails, landforms, and principal named features. There was\n    insufficient room to show all named features; some not shown are\n    related in text by distance and direction to named ones, and some\n    additional names are given in figures 7, 51, and 59. Hans Flat\n    Ranger Station near left border is in Glen Canyon National\n    Recreation Area. The reader is referred to road maps issued by the\n    State or by oil companies for the location of U.S. Highway 163\n    (shown as 160 on old maps) and other nearby roads and for the\n    locations of the towns of Green River, Crescent Junction, Moab, La\n    Sal Junction, and Monticello. Visitors also can obtain pamphlets at\n    the entrance stations to the Needles and Island in the Sky districts\n    of the park or at the National Park Service office in Moab; these\n    contain up-to-date maps of the park and the latest available\n    information on roads, trails, campsites, and picnic sites. (Fig. 1)]\nOn June 26, 1969, state and local officials met along the Green River at\nthe mouth of Split Mountain Canyon, in Dinosaur National Monument, to\ndedicate a monument to Major Powell, commemorating the 100th anniversary\nof his first river trip, and to dedicate the Powell Centennial Scenic\nDrive, also known as the Powell Memorial Highway. In the absence of any\nroads closely paralleling the Green and Colorado Rivers except for short\ndistances, this route is virtually the only means of approach to the\nrivers and comprises parts of several state and federal highways\nconnecting Green River, Wyo., and Grand Canyon, Ariz. A segment of it,\nU.S. Highway 163, connects Crescent Junction, Moab, Monticello, and\nBlanding, all in Utah, and provides the principal access routes to\nCanyonlands and Arches National Parks and Natural Bridges National\nMonument.\nThe ceremonies at the mouth of Split Mountain Canyon began with the\nlanding of the official party flotilla of four boats similar to the ones\nused 100 years earlier by Powell, who was impersonated by a bearded man\ndressed to resemble the one-armed major. After the dedication, the four\nboats resumed the voyage down the Green River for another ceremony.\nOn June 29 a second monument was dedicated at the head of Desolation\nCanyon, some 50 miles southwest of Vernal, Utah, where the 1869 Powell\nexpedition first ventured into the then unknown wilderness. The bronze\nplaque identifies Desolation Canyon, named by Powell, as a national\nhistoric landmark that comprises 58,000 acres in an area 1 mile wide on\neach side of a 95-mile reach of the Green River.\n    [Illustration: Petroglyph]\nEarly History\nThere is abundant evidence that the canyon lands were inhabited by cliff\ndwellers centuries before the explorations of Powell or the earlier\nvisits of the Spanish explorers and the fur trappers. Projectile points\nand other artifacts found in the nearby La Sal and Abajo Mountains\nindicate occupation by aborigines from about 3,000-2,000 B.C. to about 1\nArcheologists have found evidence of two occupations by prehistoric\npeoples in and near Canyonlands National Park\u2014the Fremont people around\n850 or 900 A.D. and the Pueblo or Anasazi people from about 1075 to\ntheir departure in the late 12th century (Jennings, 1970). Within the\npark, the most densely populated area was along Salt Canyon and its\ntributaries in the Needles district, but many prehistoric dwellings and\ngranaries are also found just south of the park in Beef Basin and Ruin\nPark.\nThe Fremont people, who were mainly hunters, seemingly left no\nartifacts, but they did leave beautiful pictographs, or rock paintings,\nsuch as the group of ghostly human figures on the sandstone wall of\nHorseshoe Canyon (fig. 2), in the detached unit northwest of the park\nproper (fig. 1). The All American Man (fig. 3), a most unusual \u201cHumpty\nDumpty\u201d figure painted in red, white, and blue on the wall of a cave\nabout 3\u2153 miles above the cable across the east fork of Salt Canyon, is\nbelieved to have been done in the Fremont style, but as shown in the\nphotograph, it is next to one of three dwellings in the same cave that\nwere built later by the Anasazi people. Tower Ruin (fig. 4) is one of\nmany well-preserved granaries built by the Anasazi, who farmed the flood\nplains of creeks such as Salt and Horse Canyons. According to Jennings\n  There is some evidence that these early Utah people practiced a form\n  of irrigation, using shallow ditches to carry water to their crops.\n  There is also evidence that a change in climate sometime around the\n  late 12th century brought about summer flash flooding and induced the\n  cliff dwellers to abandon their Canyonlands homes and farms.\n    [Illustration: PICTOGRAPHS ON WALL OF HORSESHOE CANYON, believed to\n    have been made by Fremont people about 1,000 years ago. Numbered\n    chalkmarks 1 foot apart along bottom were made by some previous\n    photographer. Photograph by Walter Meayers Edwards, \u00a9 1971 National\n    Geographic Society. (Fig. 2)]\n    [Illustration: THE ALL AMERICAN MAN, on wall of cave in Cedar Mesa\n    Sandstone Member of Cutler Formation along upper Salt Canyon,\n    believed to have been painted by Fremont people. Granary on right\n    was built by Anasazi people. Chalk outline was added by some\n    previous photographer. Photograph by National Park Service. (Fig.\n    [Illustration: TOWER RUIN, an Anasazi granary in cave in Cedar Mesa\n    Sandstone Member along tributary of Horse Canyon. (Fig. 4)]\nVisitors to the Needles district pass through Indian Creek State Park 12\nmiles west of U.S. Highway 163. The principal attraction, which is\nvisible at the base of the Wingate Sandstone cliff on the right (north),\nis Newspaper Rock (fig. 5), one of the best preserved and most\nintriguing petroglyphs, or rock inscriptions, in the canyon lands. Many\nof the older cliff faces of the Wingate and Navajo Sandstones are\ndarkened or blackened by desert varnish, a natural pigment of iron and\nmanganese oxides. The prehistoric inhabitants of the canyon country\nlearned that effective and enduring designs could be created simply by\nchiseling through the thin dark layer to reveal the buff or tan\nsandstone beneath. According to Jesse D. Jennings (letter of Mar. 20,\n1962, to Utah Div. Parks and Recreation),\n  There are at least three periods of workmanship visible on the rock.\n  The last is quite recent since it shows men mounted on horses [brought\n  in by Spanish explorers]. These are probably less than 200 years old\n  and are probably the work of Ute tribesmen. The others cannot be\n  identified with any specific cultural group, although the earliest may\n  be as much as one thousand years old and are probably the work of the\n  so-called \u201cFremont\u201d peoples * * *\nIn addition to the designs by the Fremont, Anasazi, and Ute artists, you\nwill note a few names and dates as late as 1954.\n    [Illustration: Petroglyph]\n    [Illustration: NEWSPAPER ROCK, petroglyphs cut in Wingate Sandstone\n    cliff in Indian Creek State Park. Inscriptions probably span about\n    1,000 years and include figures by Fremont, Anasazi, and Ute people\n    (mounted horsemen) and by a few early white settlers. (Fig. 5)]\nThe modern history of Canyonlands is as colorful as the canyons\nthemselves, and involves Indians, cattlemen, bank robbers, cattle\nrustlers, and horsethieves, followed by oil drillers, uranium hunters,\npotash miners, jeepsters, boaters, and tourists. A brief summary of\ntheir activities is taken mainly from a recent account by Maxine Newell\n(1970), to whose work you are referred for further details.\nBands of Ute and Navajo Indians roamed the canyons and mesas until the\nlate 1800\u2019s, but gradually they were driven out and succeeded by pioneer\ncattlemen, the first of whom were George and Silas Green in 1874-75,\nfollowed by the Taylor brothers in 1880-81. Cowboys named many of the\nnatural features of the area, and the Needles country provided the\nscenic background for some of Zane Grey\u2019s western tales and for David\nLavender\u2019s \u201cOne Man\u2019s West.\u201d Lavender Canyon, whose headwaters were\nrecently annexed to the park, was named for him. Visitors to the Needles\ndistrict pass the Dugout Ranch about 7 miles northwest of Newspaper\nRock. The earliest ranch dwellings were dirt houses built by the\nSomerville and Scorup brothers, who bought the huge Indian Creek spread\nfor $426,000 from the Carlisle Co. in 1918. In 1973 the ranch was\noperated by Robert and Heidi Redd, whose line camp at Cave Spring served\nas temporary park headquarters and later was restored to a typical line\ncamp (fig. 6) as part of the Cave Spring Environmental Trail.\nRobbers Roost Canyon and Spring some 30 miles west of the park was the\nhangout of a horsethief named Cap Brown in the seventies. From 1884\nuntil about 1900 it was the hiding place for the notorious Butch Cassidy\nand his Wild Bunch, who robbed banks, trains, and mine payrolls and\nstole or traded horses and cattle from the ranchers. Cassidy and his\ngang managed to get along with the cattlemen by either replacing or\npaying for most of the horses and cattle, but the law finally drove them\nout, and Butch, the Sundance Kid, and a woman named Etta Place moved to\nBolivia. According to the movie version, Butch and the Sundance Kid were\nhunted down and shot by Bolivian soldiers for robbing banks and mine\npayrolls, but according to Baker (1971) Butch returned safely to the\nUnited States and died in the Northwest in 1943 or 1944, and the\nSundance Kid is reported to have died in Casper, Wyo., in 1958 at age\n98. Art Ekker (Findley, 1971, fig. 3), present owner of Robbers Roost\nRanch, which contains the former hangout, commented: \u201cA lot of people\nare sure that Butch and his gang buried some money around Robbers Roost.\nEvery so often somebody turns up with a map or a metal detector and\nwants to start digging. They\u2019ve found a lot of rusty tin cans and old\nhorseshoes.\u201d\n    [Illustration: CAVE SPRING LINE CAMP. Above, line-camp exterior,\n    showing entrance and corral; below, interior, showing furnishings\n    and staple food items kept in stock. Served as regular cowboy line\n    camp for many years, then as part of temporary park headquarters;\n    later restored as part of Cave Spring Environmental Trail. A nearby\n    cave, also in Cedar Mesa Sandstone, contains a spring. (Fig. 6)]\n    [Illustration: Fig. 6, lower image]\nThe uranium boom of the 1950\u2019s, touched off by Charlie Steen\u2019s fabulous\nMi Vida mine south of La Sal, Utah, temporarily skyrocketed the\npopulation of Moab and sent uranium hunters into every nook and cranny\nof the canyon lands. Many of the jeep trails were first made then, and\nlanding strips and prospect holes of that period are plentiful. Most of\nthe prospects were in the Chinle Formation, particularly in the Moss\nBack Member at the base, but some were in rocks older than the Chinle,\nand some were in younger rocks. The uranium mines in the park are no\nlonger operating, but production has been resumed in a few mines just\nnorth and east of the park. Information on some of these mines, obtained\nfrom E. P. Beroni (U.S. Atomic Energy Comm., oral commun., Feb. 14,\n1973) is given at appropriate places below.\nThe number of boaters or floaters on the Colorado and Green Rivers is\nincreasing steadily, and trips by jet boat and other power boats are\navailable from Moab. Tourist travel over good roads on Island in the Sky\nand Hatch Point and by paved road to The Needles also is increasing\nsteadily. Travel west of the Green River and main stem of the Colorado\nRiver is still restricted largely to a few jeep trails and to hiking or\nhorseback riding.\n    [Illustration: Petroglyph]\nGeographic Setting\nGeologists have divided the United States into many provinces, each of\nwhich has distinctive geologic and topographic characteristics that set\nit apart from the others. One of the most intriguing and scenic of these\nis the Colorado Plateaus province, referred to in this report simply as\nthe Colorado Plateau, or the Plateau. This province, which covers some\n150,000 square miles and is not all plateaus, as we shall see, extends\nfrom Rifle, Colo., at the northeast to a little beyond Flagstaff, Ariz.,\nat the southwest and from Cedar City, Utah, at the west nearly to\nAlbuquerque, N. Mex., at the southeast. Canyonlands National Park\nappropriately occupies the heart of the Canyon Lands section, one of the\nsix subdivisions of the Plateau. As the names imply, the Canyon Lands\nsection of the Plateau comprises a high plateau, generally ranging in\naltitude from 5,000 to 7,000 feet, which has been intricately dissected\nby literally thousands of canyons.\nCanyonlands National Park is drained entirely by the Colorado and Green\nRivers, whose confluence is an important and scenic central feature of\nthe park (figs. 59, 60). Individual canyons traversed or drained by\nthese rivers are discussed in later chapters.\nWhen Major Powell reached the confluence in 1869, the river flowing in\nfrom the northeast to join the Green River was called the Grand River,\nand the Green and Grand joined there to form the Colorado River. The\nGrand River was renamed Colorado River by act of the Colorado State\nLegislature approved March 24, 1921, and by act of Congress approved\nJuly 25, 1921. But the old term still remains in names such as Grand\nCounty, Colo., the headwaters region; Grand Valley, a town 16 miles west\nof Rifle, Colo.; Grand Valley between Palisade and Mack, Colo.; Grand\nMesa, which towers more than a mile above the Grand and Gunnison River\nvalleys; Grand Junction, Colo., a city appropriately located at the\nconfluence of the Grand and Gunnison Rivers; Grand County, Utah, which\nthe river traverses after entering Utah; and Grand View Point, the\nsouthern terminus of Island in the Sky.\nWhen viewed at a distance of 1 foot, the shaded relief map (fig. 1)\nshows the general shape of the land surface in and near Canyonlands\nNational Park to the same horizontal scale as it would appear to a\nperson in a spacecraft flying at a height of 250,000 feet, or about 48\nmiles. This map was prepared by artist John R. Stacy from parts of the\nreverse sides of four plastic relief maps[2]\u2014Salina, Moab, Cortez, and\nEscalante quadrangles, at a scale of 1:250,000\u2014using a simple time- and\nmoney-saving method he devised (Stacy, 1962).\nAn image of Canyonlands National Park and vicinity from a satellite at a\nheight of about 570 miles is shown in figure 7. Note white clouds and\nblack cloud shadows on right.\n    [Illustration: CANYONLANDS NATIONAL PARK AND VICINITY, from NASA\u2019s\n    unmanned Earth Resources Technology Satellite (ERTS-1), at height of\n    about 570 miles. The space image map was prepared from simultaneous\n    scanning in three color bands\u2014blue green, red, and near\n    infrared\u2014that were combined to produce a false-color image in which\n    vigorous green vegetation (forests and irrigated areas) appears\n    bright red, water dark blue, and soils and bare rocks various shades\n    of blue, blue green, or yellow green. Bright-blue area on west bank\n    of Colorado River about 10 miles southwest of Moab is the group of\n    large evaporation ponds of Texas Gulf, Inc., shown in figures 31 and\n    71. Images were taken at 10:31:10 a.m., Aug. 23, 1972, during the\n    432d orbit, telemetered to Alaska, videotaped, then photographed.\n    Sun elevation was 53 degrees above horizon from azimuth of 130\n    degrees. Image covers an area about 100 miles square. (See scale.)\n    Location of Monticello is approximate; that of other towns is\n    believed to be correct. Park boundaries are not shown because of\n    difficulty in locating them accurately, but features such as\n    Colorado and Green Rivers can easily be compared with those in\nRocks and Landforms\nThe vivid and varied colors of the bare rocks and the fantastic canyons,\nbuttes, spires, columns, alcoves, caves, arches, and other erosional\nforms of the canyon country result from a fortuitous combination of\ngeologic and climatic circumstances and events unequaled in most other\nparts of the world.\nFirst among these events was the piling up, layer upon layer, of\nthousands of feet of sedimentary rocks under a wide variety of\nenvironments. Sedimentary rocks of the region are composed of particles\nranging in size from clay and silt through sand and gravel carried to\ntheir resting places by moving water, silt and sand particles\ntransported by wind, and some materials precipitated from water\nsolutions, such as limestone (calcium carbonate), dolomite (calcium and\nmagnesium carbonate), gypsum (calcium sulfate with some water),\nanhydrite (calcium sulfate alone), common salt (sodium chloride), potash\nminerals such as potassium chloride, and a few other less common types.\nSome of the materials were laid down in shallow seas that once covered\nthe area (fig. 8) or in lagoons and estuaries near the sea. Some beds\nwere deposited by streams in inland basins or plains, a few were\ndeposited in lakes, and some, like the Navajo Sandstone, were carried in\nby the wind. The character and thickness of the sedimentary rocks, and\nthe names and ages assigned to them by geologists, are shown in the rock\ncolumn in figure 9 and in the cross sections in figures 10 and 15, and\nthe history of their deposition is discussed in the chapter \u201cSummary of\nGeologic History.\u201d The rock column was compiled mainly from generalized\nstratigraphic sections given by Baker (1933, 1946), McKnight (1940),\nHinrichs and others (1967, 1971b), and F. A. McKeown and P. P. Orkild\n(U.S. Geol. Survey, unpub. data, Mar. 16, 1973).\nNot exposed in the area but present far beneath the sedimentary cover,\nand exposed in a few surrounding places, are examples of the other two\nprincipal types of rocks: (1) igneous rocks, solidified from molten rock\nforced into or above younger rocks along cracks, joints, and faults and\n(2) much older metamorphic rocks, formed from other pre-existing rock\ntypes by great heat and pressure at extreme depths. The particles\ncomprising the sedimentary rocks were derived by weathering and erosion\nof rocks of all three types in the headwater regions of the ancestral\nColorado River basin. Igneous rocks of Tertiary Age (fig. 80) form the\nnearby La Sal, Abajo, and Henry Mountains (fig. 7).\n    [Illustration: SHALLOW INLAND SEA which covered Canyonlands and\n    vicinity during Middle Pennsylvanian time. (Fig. 8)]\nSecond among the main events leading to the formation of the canyon\ncountry was the raising and buckling of the Plateau by earth forces so\nthat it could be vigorously attacked by various forces of erosion and so\nthat the rock materials thus pried loose or dissolved could eventually\nbe carted away to the Gulf of California by the ancestral Colorado\nRiver. Some idea of the enormous volume of rock thus removed is apparent\nwhen you look down some 2,000 feet to the river from any of the high\noverlooks, such as Dead Horse Point (fig. 15) or Green River Overlook\n(fig. 23), or when you lay a straightedge across the three high mesas in\nfigure 10 and note the large volume of missing rocks below. Not so\napparent, however, is the fact that some 10,000 feet of younger Mesozoic\nand Tertiary rocks that once overlay this high plateau also has been\nswept away. In all, the river has carried thousands of cubic miles of\nsediment to the sea and is still actively at work on this gigantic\nearthmoving project. In an earlier report (Lohman, 1965, p. 42) I\nestimated that the rate of removal may have been as great as about 3\ncubic miles each century. For a few years the bulk of it was dumped into\nLake Mead, but now Lake Powell is getting much of it. When these and\nother reservoirs ultimately become filled with sediment, for reservoirs\nand lakes are but temporary things, the Gulf of California will again\nbecome the burial ground.\n    [Illustration: ROCK COLUMN OF CANYONLANDS NATIONAL PARK. One foot\n    equals 0.305 meter. (Fig. 9)]\n  AGE (millions of yrs ago)\n    GEOLOGIC AGE\n      NAME OF ROCK FORMATION\n            KIND OF ROCK AND HOW IT IS SCULPTURED BY EROSION\n              THICKNESS (feet)\n                NAMED FOR OCCURRENCE AT OR NEAR\n    Jurassic\n      Entrada Sandstone\n            Crossbedded white fine-grained sandstone at top (Moab\n                  Member); salmon colored to pink, fine-grained,\n                  generally crossbedded sandstone in middle (Slick Rock\n                  Member); red earthy sandstone and siltstone at base\n                  (Dewey Bridge Member, grades into Carmel Formation\n                  west of Green River). Forms steep-sided buttes north,\n                  east, and west of park.\n                Entrada Point, San Rafael Swell, Utah\n    Jurassic & Triassic(?)\n      Glen Can Group\n        Navajo Sandstone\n            Crossbedded buff to gray sandstone, some red sandstone, and\n                  thin beds of limestone. Residual rounded patches on\n                Navajo Country, Ariz., New Mexico, Utah\n    Late Triassic(?)\n        Kayenta Formation\n            Irregularly bedded stream-laid gray, buff, lavender and red\n                  fine-to-coarse-grained sandstone and siltstone. Caps\n                  most high mesas and forms tops of highest cliffs.\n                  Contains fresh-water fossils.\n                Glen Canyon, S. Utah, Kayenta, Arizona\n    Late Triassic\n        Wingate Sandstone\n            Buff and light red generally crossbedded medium-grained\n                  sandstone. Forms highest cliffs, many of which are\n                  coated with black desert varnish.\n                Ft. Wingate, New Mexico\n      Chinle Fm.\n        Unnamed upper member\n            Reddish siltstone, mudstone, and sandstone locally bleached\n                  to bluish or greenish gray, and few thin beds of\n                  limestone. Forms steep slopes at base of highest\n                  cliffs. Contains some fossil wood and reptile bones.\n                Chinle Valley, Ariz.\n        Moss Back Mbr\n            Gray, brown, and gray-green sandstone and conglomerate.\n                Moss Back Ridge, Utah\n    Middle(?) and Early Triassic\n      Moenkopi Fm.\n        Unnamed upper member\n            Brick red, reddish-brown, and brown mudstone and sandstone,\n                  and some conglomerate and gypsum. Forms slopes broken\n                Moenkopi Wash, Ariz.\n    Triassic(?)\n        Hoskinnini Tongue\n            Pale-brown fine-to-coarse-grained sandstone; forms ledges.\n                Hoskinnini Mesa, Ariz.\n    Permian\n      Cutler Fm.\n            Undivided Cutler Formation in northeastern part of area is\n                  composed of buff, red, and purple arkosic sandstone\n                  and conglomerate. South of Indian Creek is the thick\n                  Cedar Mesa Sandstone Member, composed of massive\n                  mainly crossbedded white to pale red sandstone with\n                  thin beds of cherty limestone. Forms needles, arches\n                  and other erosional features. Thickening southwestward\n                  is the White Rim Sandstone Member of white crossbedded\n                Cutler Creek, Colo.\n        White Rim Sandstone Member\n                White Rim, Wayne Co., Utah\n        Organ Rock Tongue\n                Organ Rock, Utah\n        Cedar Mesa Sandstone Member\n      Rico Formation\n            Buff, red, and purple arkosic sandstone and conglomerate\n                  containing several thin beds of marine fossiliferous\n                  limestone. Forms moderately steep slopes.\n    Pennsylvanian\n      Hermosa Formation\n                Hermosa Creek, Animas River Valley, Colo.\n        Unnamed upper member\n            Blue, greenish, and gray fossiliferous limestone interbedded\n                  with white, gray, and greenish sandstone and gray to\n                  green shale. Lower part known only from deep wells.\n                  Forms steep canyon walls.\n        Paradox Member\n            Salt, gypsum, and anhydrite with interbedded black and brown\n                  shale; some limestone.\n                Paradox Valley, Colo.\nLast but far from least among the factors responsible for the grandeur\nof the canyon country is the desert climate, which allows us to see\nvirtually every foot of the vividly colored naked rocks and has made\npossible the creation and preservation of such a wide variety of\nfantastic sculptures. A wetter climate would have produced a far\ndifferent and smoother landscape in which most of the rocks and land\nforms would have been hidden by vegetation. In the canyon lands the\nvegetation is mainly on the high mesas and on the narrow flood plains\nbordering the rivers, but scanty vegetation does grow on the gentle\nslopes or flats.\nThe desert climate has combined with the nearly flat lying layers of\nsediments of different character, hardness, and thickness to produce\nsteep slopes having many cliffs and ledges and generally sharp to\nangular edges rather than the subdued rounded forms of more humid\nregions. This has led geologists to refer to such terrain as having\n\u201clayer-cake geology,\u201d and this is brought out by the profile in the rock\ncolumn (fig. 9), by the cross section (fig. 10), by figure 15, and by\nmany of the other photographs. But the baker of this cake was rather\ncareless\u2014not only do the layers range widely in thickness and character,\nbut some are wedge shaped, thick on one side of the cake but thin or\nabsent on the other. Then too, when he ran out of icing in the midst of\na layer, he was apt to finish with a different kind or color, for no\ninspector was on the job to insure orderly construction.\nIf all the rock strata in the park were present at one locality, their\nsequence and thickness would be those shown on the right-hand side of\nthe graphic section in figure 9. However, because of the lateral changes\nin thickness and character and the wedging out of certain beds, such as\nthe White Rim Sandstone Member of the Cutler Formation, no two sections\nof the strata are exactly alike. This will be brought out in photographs\nof different exposures of rocks in various parts of the park.\nAn often-asked question is, why are most of the rocks so red? This can\nbe answered by one word\u2014iron, the same pigment used in rouge and in\npaint for barns and boxcars. Various oxides of iron, some including\nwater, produce not only brick red but also pink, salmon, brown, buff,\nyellow, and even green or bluish green. This does not imply that the\nrocks could be considered as sources of iron ore, for the merest trace\nof iron, generally only 1 to 3 percent, is enough to produce even the\ndarkest shades of red. The only rocks in the park that contain virtually\nno iron are white sandstones of the White Rim Sandstone Member of the\nCutler Formation (figs. 21-24) and the Navajo Sandstone.\n    [Illustration: Fig. 10, first section]\n    [Illustration: SECTION ACROSS CANYONLANDS NATIONAL PARK from North\n    Point at west (left), via Grand View Point in middle, to Needles\n    Overlook at east (right), showing the three principal topographic\n    levels and character of the rock strata. Line of section bends at\n    Grand View Point, which is northernmost part. (Fig. 10)]\nAs pointed out by Stokes (1970, p. 3), microscopic examination of the\ncolored grains of quartz or other minerals shows the pigment to be\nmerely a thin coating on and between white or colorless particles. Sand\nor silt weathered from such rocks soon loses its color by the scouring\naction of wind or water, so most of the sand dunes and sand bars are\nwhite or nearly so.\nThe map (fig. 1) and cross section (fig. 10) of the park show that in\ngeneral the major features of the landscape lie at three different and\ndistinctive levels. A recently erected plaque on Grand View Point\nappropriately refers to these levels as the \u201cThree Worlds.\u201d The high\nplateaus, or mesas, in and adjoining the park dominate the skyline\u2014in\nfact, the central one, between the Green and Colorado Rivers, is\nappropriately named Island in the Sky. If you stand on either the east\nor the west shore of this towering cliff-bordered island, you can look\nacross a sea of fantastic erosional forms to a similar cliff-bordered\nshore at about the same level. Closer inspection of the sea of rocks on\neither side shows relatively flat benches or platforms about halfway to\nthe bottom; below these are the generally steep sided or cliff-bordered\ncanyons of the two rivers and their larger tributaries. From some\nvantage points along the shore, such as Dead Horse Point (fig. 15) or\nGreen River Overlook (fig. 23), you can see the deepest level of all\u2014the\nchannels and flood plains of the Green and Colorado Rivers.\nWhat caused the \u201cThree Worlds\u201d and the formidable cliffs supporting the\nhigh mesas or forming towering monoliths like Angel Arch or Druid Arch\n(figs. 43, 54)? Differences in the composition, hardness, arrangement,\nand thickness of the rock layers determine their ability to withstand\nthe forces of fracturing and erosion and hence their tendency to form\ncliffs, ledges, or slopes. Most of the cliff- or ledge-forming rocks are\nsandstones consisting of sand grains deposited by wind or water and\nlater cemented together by silica (SiO\u2082), calcium carbonate (CaCO\u2083), or\none of the iron oxides (such as Fe\u2082O\u2083), but some hard, resistant ledges\nare made of limestone (calcium carbonate). The rock column (fig. 9)\nshows in general how these rock formations are sculptured by erosion and\nhow they protect underlying layers from more rapid erosion. The nearly\nvertical cliffs supporting the highest mesas consist of the\nwell-cemented Wingate Sandstone protected above by the even harder\nsandstone of the Kayenta Formation. To borrow from an earlier report of\nmine (Lohman, 1965, p. 17),\n  Vertical cliffs and shafts of the Wingate Sandstone endure only where\n  the top of the formation is capped by beds of the next younger rock\n  unit\u2014the Kayenta Formation. The Kayenta is much more resistant than\n  the Wingate, so even a few feet of the Kayenta * * * protect the rock\n  beneath.\nIn some places remnants of the overlying Navajo Sandstone make up the\ntopmost unit of the cliff.\n    [Illustration: Petroglyph]\nHow to See the Park\nThe question of how to see the park has no simple answer, for the park\nis too vast and complex to comprehend by a quick visit to any one of its\nmany and varied parts or by any one means of transportation. Some, as\ndid Major Powell, view it only from the rivers\u2014by boat plus a few\nback-breaking climbs up the bordering canyon walls. Others see only the\nsmall parts reachable by passenger cars. The more venturesome see vastly\nmore by jeep, foot, or horseback. And a few prefer to view it as the\nbirds do\u2014from the air. Many, those who put aside their magazines long\nenough, get bird\u2019s-eye views without half trying, for Canyonlands is\nbeneath the principal air routes connecting Los Angeles with Grand\nJunction and Denver. Actually, a full appreciation of all the wonders\nand beauties of the park is possible only by combining all these\napproaches and methods of locomotion, but only a few fortunate souls\nsuch as Bates Wilson have thus been able to inspect virtually every\nsquare foot of it.\nThe task clearly before me, then, is how best to present such a complex\nwonderland to you, the reader. The method I selected, after considerable\nthought and a few false starts, is to begin at the top\u2014the high\nmesas\u2014and work my way downward much as the rivers have done in carving\nout this fantastic area, to some of the broad benchlands beneath the\nmesas and eventually to the river channels and deep canyons. Although\nthe approach I selected may not be the best, and admittedly is but one\nof several that comes to mind, I hope it gets the job done.\nEven though the \u201cpeninsular\u201d mesas east and west of Island in the Sky,\nknown respectively as Hatch Point and the Orange Cliffs, lie outside the\npresent boundaries, they provide breathtaking views of important\nfeatures within the park, so brief descriptions of them are included\nbelow. But first, let us take a closer look at Island in the Sky.\nAs the map (fig. 1) shows, Island in the Sky is really a fork of a\nwedge-shaped peninsula extending southward between the two rivers. An\noutlier to the south named Junction Butte has already been severed from\nthe main peninsula by erosion and now is a true island. (See\nfrontispiece and fig. 22.) A large chunk of Island in the Sky south of\nThe Neck was about to be severed by erosion from the main peninsula to\nbecome a true island, when recent widening and grading of the road gave\nit a temporary reprieve. When my family and I first squeaked over this\nnarrow neck in 1960 by jeep, furtive glances to right or left showed the\ntwo canyons perilously close, and complete severance seemed imminent.\nThe road builders have staved off disaster for a few thousand years, but\nultimately the large section to the south will become another island,\nand a bridge will be required to connect it to the mainland. Its\nappearance from the air before the road widening is shown in figure 11.\n    [Illustration: AERIAL VIEW OF THE NECK AND SHAFER TRAIL, looking\n    southwest, taken before rebuilding of park road on mesa top.\n    Cliff-walled canyon to right of The Neck, in middle, drains westward\n    to the Green River; south fork of Shafer Canyon to left drains\n    eastward to Colorado River. This is the narrowest part of Island in\n    the Sky. Photograph by National Park Service. (Fig. 11)]\nThe entrance road to Island in the Sky intersects U.S. Highway 163 at a\npoint 10 miles northwest of Moab, or 21 miles southeast of Crescent\nJunction on Interstate Highway 70. From U.S. 163 a paved road climbs\ncolorful Sevenmile Canyon past sandstone cliffs of the Wingate, Kayenta,\nand Navajo Formations to reach the high mesa. There, just \u201coffshore\u201d to\nthe north, are anchored the \u201cbattleships\u201d that guard the island\u2014Merrimac\nand Monitor Buttes (fig. 12). These landmarks are composed of the\nEntrada Sandstone\u2014the same rock that forms Church Rock at the entrance\nto the Needles district (fig. 37) and that shapes the spectacular arches\nin Arches National Park. All three members of the Entrada (Wright and\nothers, 1962), as noted in the figure 12 caption, are present here as\nwell as at Church Rock. Eleven miles from the junction with U.S. Highway\n163 a graded road to the right, called Horsethief Trail, goes 16 miles\ndown to the Green River, where it connects with roads following the\nriver both upstream and downstream. The road upstream leads to two\nuranium mines in the lower part of Mineral Canyon which were reactivated\nin 1972 and 1973. The switchbacks are quite spectacular and are\nreminiscent of the Shafer Trail. Three miles south of the Horsethief\nTrail turnoff is a fork in the road\u2014to the left the pavement continues\nto Dead Horse Point, and straight ahead a graded road leads southward to\nthe Island in the Sky district of Canyonlands National Park.\n    [Illustration: MERRIMAC (LEFT) AND MONITOR BUTTES guard north\n    entrance to Island in the Sky. White rock near middle is Navajo\n    Sandstone. Buttes comprise all three members of Entrada Sandstone:\n    remnant white top of Moab Member, vertical cliffs of Slick Rock\n    Member, and sloping base of Dewey Bridge Member. (Fig. 12)]\nMost of Island in the Sky has a scattered growth of pi\u00f1on and juniper\ntrees, but several large flat areas, such as Grays Pasture, contain\nsufficient sandy soil to support a mantle of grass and weeds, which is\nused for grazing; however, grazing in this part of the park will be\ndiscontinued in 1975.\n                      DEAD HORSE POINT STATE PARK\nLet us follow the paved road from U.S. Highway 163 all the way to Dead\nHorse Point, which was set aside as a state park in 1957. The park has a\nvisitor center, museum, modern campgrounds and picnic facilities, and\npiped water, which is hauled all the way from Moab. An entrance fee of\n$1 permits us to drive across the narrow neck to a parking area near the\npoint proper, which is protected by stone walls and is provided with a\nramada, benches, paths, and sanitary facilities. From Dead Horse Point\nwe get breathtaking views in several directions, including a loop of the\nColorado River called the Goose Neck, 2,000 feet nearly straight down.\n    [Illustration: CANE CREEK ANTICLINE, looking northeast toward the La\n    Sal Mountains from Dead Horse Point. Colorado River cuts across\n    crest at middle right, above which is Anticline Overlook. (See fig.\n    31.) Jeep trail and part of Shafer dome lie below. (Fig. 13)]\nHow did such a magnificent viewpoint get such a macabre name? Dead Horse\nPoint was named for a sad but colorful legend concerning a band of wild\nhorses that once roamed the high mesas. The point is really an embryo\nisland separated from the mainland by a narrow neck barely wide enough\nfor the present road. In the early cowboy days the island was used as a\nnatural corral in which wild mustangs were penned up behind a short\nfence across the neck so that the better ones could be sorted out and\ndriven to mines in the San Juan Mountains of Colorado. A band of horses\ncorralled too long without water allegedly died of thirst within sight\nof the river 2,000 feet below, hence the name of the point, or at least\nso one version of the story goes. Some versions allude to the wranglers\nas cowboys; others, as horsethieves.\nTo the northeast we can see the Cane Creek anticline\u2014an upward fold of\nthe rocks\u2014behind which loom the La Sal Mountains (fig. 13). A cutaway\nview of a typical anticline is shown in figure 14. A better view of the\nCane Creek anticline can be seen from Anticline Overlook, as shown in\nfigure 31. From our vantage point at Dead Horse Point, we can see much\nof Hatch Point, including Anticline Overlook, by looking east and\nsoutheast. Spectacular views of the northern part of Canyonlands\nNational Park lie to the south, southwest, and east. Looking southwest\n(fig. 15), we see most of the rock formations exposed in\nCanyonlands\u2014more than can be seen from any other vantage point in or\nnear the park. The names of the visible rock units shown in figure 15\ncan be compared with the complete list in the rock column (fig. 9).\nParts of Shafer dome, a \u201cclosed\u201d rounded anticline, are visible in the\nlower left of figure 15 and in the lower right of figure 13. Its general\ndomelike shape is outlined by the bluish-white Shafer limestone, a\nmarker bed which also caps the bench on the peninsula within the Goose\nNeck of the river. This limestone, which here forms the top of the Rico\nFormation, is not shown in the rock column (fig. 9) because its exposure\nis limited to the Shafer dome and the Cane Creek anticline and its name\nis used only locally by prospectors for oil and gas.\n    [Illustration: CUTAWAY VIEW OF ANTICLINE, or upfold of the rocks.\n    [Illustration: LOOKING SOUTHWEST FROM DEAD HORSE POINT toward Island\n    in the Sky on right skyline, Orange Cliffs on left skyline, Colorado\n    River and White Rim Trail below, and Shafer dome at lower left.\n    Sketch from photograph shows names of rocks. (Compare with fig. 9.)\n    [Illustration: Fig. 15, cont.]\nNote that the White Rim Sandstone Member of the Cutler Formation,\nreferred to hereinafter simply as the White Rim Sandstone, becomes\nthinner toward the right (northeast) in figure 15 but is absent entirely\nin figure 13, just a short distance to the northeast. The gradual\ndisappearance of recognizable beds of this type toward the northeast,\nincluding the disappearance of some limestone beds containing marine\nfossils, are examples of what geologists call facies changes. Here the\nchanges result from the fact that while strata were being deposited in\nor near ancient seas that lay to the southwest, beds of different\ncharacter were being laid down on land by streams emanating from the\nnortheast. This will be gone into in more detail in discussions that\naccompany illustrations to follow, particularly figure 27, fig. 31, and\nThe north entrance to the Island in the Sky district of Canyonlands\nNational Park used to be 6 miles south of the junction with the paved\nroad to Dead Horse Point, but since the land additions of November 1971,\nit is only 4\u00bd miles south of this junction. A temporary trailer-housed\nentrance station marks the old boundary.\n                      SHAFER AND WHITE RIM TRAILS\nDuring the early 1950\u2019s a remarkable but hair-raising road known as\nShafer Trail was cut down the face of the cliffs below The Neck to reach\nthe C Group of uranium claims near the head of Lathrop Canyon. It\nbranches southward from the park road a mile south of the new entrance,\nthen descends in a series of switchbacks. The aerial view (fig. 11)\nshows the upper trail and The Neck before the park road was graded and\nwidened, and a view from near The Neck (fig. 16) shows the precipitous\ncliffs the trail descends. It follows the general route of an old foot\ntrail.\n    [Illustration: SHAFER TRAIL, from just south of The Neck (fig. 1,\n    fig. 11). Navajo Sandstone is above road at left, Kayenta Formation\n    forms upper half of cliff below road, and Wingate Sandstone forms\n    lower, vertical half of cliff; lower part of road is in Chinle\n    Formation. (Fig. 16)]\nShafer Trail connects with the White Rim Trail, which, as the name\nsuggests, is built mainly on the White Rim, after which the White Rim\nSandstone was named. The White Rim Trail can be followed northeastward\nto join the pavement at Potash, or it can be followed southward along\nthe Colorado River canyons to Junction Butte, thence northward along\nStillwater and Labyrinth Canyons of the Green River to and beyond the\nnorthern boundary of the park. At Horsethief Bottom, you can leave the\ncanyon by Horsethief Trail and rejoin the paved road leading northward\nto U.S. 163. At Lathrop Canyon, 8 or 10 miles south of where Shafer\nTrail meets the White Rim Trail, a branch of the White Rim Trail leads\ndownward to the Colorado River, where picnic tables and sanitary\nfacilities are provided. This is used as a lunch stop by some boating\ngroups.\nAlthough some two-wheel-drive cars or trucks have traversed the White\nRim and Shafer Trails, they may encounter trouble with deep sand,\nwashouts, or fallen rocks, so four-wheel-drive vehicles are recommended.\nIn the summer these trails should not be attempted without plenty of\nwater, and two vehicles traveling together provide an added margin of\nsafety. All vehicles should carry emergency equipment including a\nshovel, tow chain or rope, jack, tire tools, and other necessary items.\nGeologists and uranium prospectors working along the White Rim Trail\nhave obtained good drinking water from small springs that flow from the\nbase of the White Rim Sandstone in many places (Neal Hinrichs, U.S.\nGeol. Survey, oral commun., Feb. 1973). After rains, runoff gathers in\nlarge potholes in the White Rim Sandstone in some places and affords\nemergency drinking water. Several such potholes filled with water are\nshown in figure 17. Some potholes occur also in the Cedar Mesa Sandstone\nin the Needles district.\nAbout a mile southwest of The Neck, the road crosses Grays Pasture\u2014the\nwidest and flattest part of Island in the Sky. The drive over this flat\ngrassland yields not the slightest hint of the awesome cliff-walled\nchasms on either side of the island. Some 5 miles southwest of The Neck,\nboth the island and the road branch like a Y. At a point 0.4 mile north\nof the Y, Mesa Trail leads one-quarter mile east to Canyon Viewpoint\nArch, which frames the Colorado River canyon and the La Sal Mountains\n(fig. 18). This arch, at the very top edge of the cliff, is composed of\nthe lower part of the Navajo Sandstone. The only other arch of Navajo\nSandstone in or near the park that I know of is the small one shown in\nfigure 33, but of course there may be others.\n    [Illustration: NATURAL TANKS, filled with runoff from rain, serve as\n    emergency sources of drinking water. Largest tank in foreground\n    contains 4 feet of water and small fresh-water shrimp. So-called\n    tanks, or potholes, are formed partly by water dissolving the\n    calcium carbonate cement and partly by wind or water removing the\n    resulting loose sand grains. View is north toward Junction Butte\n    from point about a mile south of the White Rim Trail. Red rocks in\n    hill on right are in lower part of Moenkopi Formation. Photograph by\n    E. N. Hinrichs. (Fig. 17)]\n    [Illustration: CANYON VIEWPOINT ARCH, framing Colorado River canyon\n    at east end of Mesa Trail 0.4 mile north of Y in Island in the Sky\n    road. Arch is in lower part of Navajo Sandstone. (Fig. 18)]\n    photographs were taken. Arrows point to distant views. Numbers refer\n    to figure numbers. (Fig. 19)]\n    [Illustration: THE WHITE RIM, looking northeast toward La Sal\n    Mountains from overlook 3 miles north of Grand View Point. White Rim\n    Sandstone here is thicker than near Dead Horse Point (fig. 15) but\n    thinner than in Monument Basin and Stillwater Canyon (fig. 21, fig.\nLet us now take the branch south of the Y and follow the narrow crest of\nGrand View Point for about 6 miles to the main overlook. About 0.9 mile\nsouth of the Y, a short walk to the west over the lower part of the\nNavajo Sandstone affords a magnificent view of Stillwater Canyon of the\nGreen River, including Turks Head (fig. 23, fig. 24). Half way to the\npoint is a parking area and overlook, from which we get a spectacular\nview of canyons cutting the White Rim and of the La Sal Mountains beyond\n(fig. 20). Note that the White Rim Sandstone, which forms the broad\nbench appropriately named the White Rim, is here much thicker than where\nseen near Dead Horse Point (fig. 15).\n    [Illustration: MONUMENT BASIN FROM GRAND VIEW POINT, Needles\n    Overlook on left skyline, Abajo Mountains on right skyline. Red\n    spires and cliffs in basin are Organ Rock Tongue of Cutler\n    Formation. (Fig. 21)]\nThree more miles southward takes us to Grand View Point and its nearby\npicnic area. Though named after the former Grand River some 2,000 feet\nbelow, Grand View Point has a double meaning, for we see from here a\ntruly grand view (fig. 21)! At our feet is spectacular Monument Basin,\ncut below the White Rim into the brick-red Organ Rock Tongue of the\nCutler Formation. The White Rim Sandstone here is slightly thicker than\nto the northeast (fig. 20) but thinner than to the west (fig. 23),\nbecause it forms a wedge-shaped body that thickens westward. In the\ndistance southeastward are the Abajo Mountains, just west of Monticello,\nUtah. The prominent projection on Hatch Point on the left skyline is\nNeedles Overlook, from which the photograph in figure 27 was taken. A\ncloseup view of Monument Basin, showing Junction Butte and Grand View\nPoint in the background, is shown in figure 22. The slender spire in the\nforeground has a measured height of 305 feet (Findley, 1971, p. 78).\n    [Illustration: MONUMENT BASIN FROM THE AIR, looking north to\n    Junction Butte and Grand View Point. Spire of Organ Rock Tongue in\n    foreground is 305 feet high. White top of Cedar Mesa Sandstone is at\n    bottom of photograph. Photograph by National Park Service (Fig. 22)]\nAbout a quarter mile west of the Y, a left fork of the road goes about a\nmile and a half to Green River Overlook, which provides a superb view of\nStillwater Canyon of the Green River, the Orange Cliffs beyond, and the\nHenry Mountains in the extreme distance (fig. 23). Note that here the\nWhite Rim Sandstone is much thicker than in preceding views. The\nprominent butte enclosed by the loop of the river is known as Turks Head\nand is better seen from the air (fig. 24). The light-colored band near\nthe base of the cliffs in the background of figure 24 is characteristic\nof the bleached upper part of the Moenkopi Formation in this part of the\npark. According to F. A. McKeown and P. P. Orkild (U.S. Geol. Survey,\nunpub. data, Feb. 16, 1973), petroliferous material or odor generally\noccurs in this bleached zone and in the basal beds of the Moenkopi.\nThe campground just north of Green River Overlook has no water at this\nwriting (1973), but water from wells in Taylor Canyon will eventually be\npiped to nearby parts of Island in the Sky.\nFive miles northwest of the Y we come to Upheaval Dome, one of the most\nunusual geographic and geologic features of the park. Viewed from the\nair (fig. 25), it resembles somewhat a volcanic or meteor crater and has\nbeen called such by some. Because beds of salt are known to underlie the\npark, some have suggested that the salt may have thickened and welled\nupward to form a salt dome, similar to domes along the Gulf Coast\n(Mattox, 1968). However, only 1,470 feet of salt was encountered in an\noil test just east of Upheaval Dome (Robert J. Hite, U.S. Geol. Survey,\noral commun., Feb. 13, 1973); so although salt may have played a role,\nUpheaval Dome clearly is not a salt dome with dimensions similar to the\nGulf Coast types. It may be related to a mound on the deep-seated\nPrecambrian rocks (Joesting and Plouff, 1958, fig. 3; Joesting and\nothers, 1966, p. 13, 14, 17), but the exact origin of the dome is not\nclear.\nThe central part has the structure of a dome, in that the strata dip\ndownward away from the middle. A ringlike syncline, or downward fold in\nthe rock layers (fig. 26), surrounds the dome, beyond which the strata\nresume their nearly flat position. The white rock in the bottom of the\ncraterlike depression is not salt, but jumbled large fragments of the\nWhite Rim Sandstone. Surrounding that are slopes of the Moenkopi and\nChinle Formations, cliffs of the Wingate Sandstone, a circular bench of\nthe Kayenta Formation, and outer ramparts of the Navajo Sandstone.\nUpheaval Canyon leads to Stillwater Canyon of the Green River at the\nupper left.\n    [Illustration: STILLWATER CANYON AND GREEN RIVER, looking southwest\n    from Green River loop of river. Brown material covering nearby parts\n    of the White Rim is lower part of Overlook. Orange Cliffs in\n    background, Henry Mountains on right skyline, Turks Head in Moenkopi\n    Formation. (Fig. 23)]\n    [Illustration: TURKS HEAD, an erosional remnant of the White Rim\n    Sandstone supported by red beds of Organ Rock Tongue, in loop of\n    Green River. Aerial view looking north. Photograph by National Park\n    Service. (Fig. 24)]\n    [Illustration: UPHEAVAL DOME, aerial view looking northwest toward\n    junction of Upheaval and Taylor Canyons with Labyrinth Canyon of\n    Green River. Photograph by Walter Meayers Edwards, \u00a9 1971 National\n    Geographic Society. (Fig. 25)]\n    [Illustration: CUTAWAY VIEW OF SYNCLINE, or downfold of the rocks.\nOne mile before the road ends, a well-marked foot trail leads to the top\nof Whale Rock, a prominence on the Navajo Sandstone that forms the outer\nring of the dome. At the end of the road, another foot trail ascends\nfrom the picnic area to the foot of the Wingate Sandstone cliffs around\nthe central part of the dome. The views of the dome from these trails\nare interesting, but you are really too close to get a true picture of\nthe unusual feature, which is obtainable only from the air, as shown in\nfigure 25.\nJust west of Upheaval Dome, Bighorn Mesa is connected to Steer Mesa by a\nneck only 15 feet wide flanked by 300-foot vertical cliffs, as pointed\nout by McKnight (1940, p. 12). I later learned from Ed McKnight (oral\ncommun., June 6, 1973) that during his field work in this area in 1926\nhe was riding a mule across this narrow neck when the half-asleep mule\nsuddenly became aware of the dropoff on one side and began to turn\naround and head back. Ed hastily but cautiously dismounted and led the\nmule across! When this neck is finally breached by erosion, Bighorn Mesa\nwill be just as isolated and inaccessible as Junction Butte, now cut off\nfrom Grand View Point. (See frontispiece and fig. 27.)\nThe high mesa east of Canyonlands National Park and the Colorado River\ncanyons, called Hatch Point, contains several vantage points ideally\nsuited for viewing scenic features of the park and adjacent areas. Hatch\nPoint is part of the vast public domain administered by the Bureau of\nLand Management\u2014a sister agency of the Geological Survey and the\nNational Park Service, all in the U.S. Department of the Interior. The\nBureau, hereinafter referred to simply as the B.L.M., has made many\nimprovements on Hatch Point, including fine roads, two modern\ncampgrounds with sanitary facilities and piped water from wells, and two\noverlooks with protective fences, benches, paths, sanitary facilities,\nand ramadas containing panels that describe the features visible from\nthe viewpoints. Because of these improvements, the B.L.M. has\nappropriately named this area \u201cCanyon Rims Recreation Area.\u201d\nGeologically, Hatch Point is similar to Island in the Sky. Both are\nbordered by towering cliffs of the Wingate Sandstone capped by the\nresistant Kayenta Formation, and rounded remnants of the overlying\nNavajo Sandstone rise above the otherwise-flat mesa surface in many\nplaces.\nAccess to this high tableland is by a good paved road leading west from\nU.S. Highway 163 at a point 32 miles south of Moab and 22 miles north of\nMonticello. About 5 miles west of the highway we pass Windwhistle\nCampground, nestled in an attractive cove of Entrada Sandstone cliffs,\nand 16 miles from the highway we reach an intersection. From here it is\n7 miles west by paved road to Needles Overlook, 10 miles north to\nAnticline Overlook. Like the other high mesas, Hatch Point contains\nperipheral areas of scattered pi\u00f1on and juniper trees and large flat\ngrasslands used for grazing. Grain tanks here and there store winter\nfeed for the cattle.\nLet us follow the pavement to Needles Overlook, from which fine morning\nviews of Canyonlands National Park can be seen to the south and west.\nNorthwestward (fig. 27) we look 10 miles across the Colorado River\ncanyon to Junction Butte and Grand View Point. (This view is along the\nline of the east half of the cross section in fig. 10.) The feather edge\nof the White Rim Sandstone caps the White Rim west of the Colorado\nRiver, but the White Rim is absent on the east side of the canyon and in\nthe entire Needles district to the southwest, where the important scenic\nfeatures are carved from the underlying Cedar Mesa Sandstone Member of\nthe Cutler Formation, referred to hereinafter simply as the Cedar Mesa\nSandstone. Both these sandstones are missing in the foreground of figure\n27\u2014their place being taken by thin beds of red siltstone, mudstone, and\nsandstone similar to those that comprise the Organ Rock Tongue shown\nbetween the two sandstones in figure 22. These are additional examples\nof facies changes mentioned earlier (p. 34).\n    [Illustration: JUNCTION BUTTE AND GRAND VIEW POINT, looking\n    northwest from Needles Overlook. (Fig. 27)]\n                          CANYONLANDS OVERLOOK\nTurning north from the intersection 7 miles east of Needles Overlook, we\ntraverse a nearly flat grassy tableland to Hatch Point Campground. In\nfigure 1 the campground is shown west of the old road; the new road is\nwest of the campground, but no map of the new route was available for\nplotting in figure 1. About a mile before we reach the campground a jeep\ntrail heads west then northwest about 5\u00bd miles to Canyonlands Overlook,\na scant mile from, but some 1,400 feet above, the eastern border of\nCanyonlands National Park. This overlook affords fine views of the\nColorado River canyons and the eastern shore of Island in the Sky, but\nat present (1973) there are no plans to improve the trail for\npassenger-car travel.\nTwo miles north of the campground we cross a minor drainage leading\nnortheastward into the north fork of Trough Springs Canyon. The B.L.M.\nplans a road down this canyon to Kane Springs Canyon, 1,100 feet below,\nwhere it will connect both with a scenic drive to Moab, the lower part\nof which is paved, and with the jeep trail going west over Hurrah Pass\n(fig. 30) and thence south along the eastern benches of the canyons of\nthe Colorado River to the Needles district of the park. E. Neal Hinrichs\n(U.S. Geol. Survey, oral commun. Feb. 16, 1973) reported specimens of\nblue celestite (strontium sulfate, SrSO\u2084) and barite (barium sulfate,\nBaSO\u2084) in the Cutler Formation at a point where a sharp bend of this\njeep trail crosses a fault, or fracture (fig. 56), in the northeast fork\nof Lockhart Canyon (shown in fig. 1 as the easternmost loop of the trail\nabout 6 miles northeast of Lockhart Basin). Farther south, the trail\nswings west of Lockhart Basin, whose center exposes part of a syncline\n    [Illustration: SYNCLINE IN CORE OF LOCKHART BASIN, near Needles\n    Overlook. Dish-shaped roof is Wingate Sandstone, partly bleached;\n    sloping sides are Chinle Formation; dark sloping ledge at left\n    middle ground is Moss Back Member of Chinle resting on Moenkopi\n    Formation. Photograph by E. N. Hinrichs. (Fig. 28)]\nTwo and a half miles farther north, or about 2 miles south of Anticline\nOverlook, a short road leads to the west and entirely around a small\nconical butte of the Navajo Sandstone. This new circular drive has not\nyet been formally named and is simply called the U-3 loop, as designated\nin the surveyor\u2019s notebook. It affords splendid views to the west and is\nto be equipped with picnic tables. Looking west (fig. 29) we see a\nW-shaped loop of the Colorado River, Dead Horse Point on the right\nskyline, and Island in the Sky on the distant skyline. The strata\ncurving over Shafer dome appear in the right middle background.\n    [Illustration: VIEW WESTWARD FROM U-3 LOOP. Dead Horse Point on\n    right skyline, Island in the Sky capped by Navajo Sandstone in\n    extreme distance, Kayenta Formation in foreground at left. Cliffs\n    topping ridge at left are Wingate Sandstone protected by caprock of\n    the Kayenta Formation; red slopes beneath cliffs are Chinle\n    Formation, with dark ledge of Moss Back Member at base; steep slopes\n    and ledges beneath are Moenkopi Formation, lower part of which is\n    Hoskinnini Tongue; reddish gentle slopes below are Cutler Formation;\n    nearly flat benches above Colorado River are Rico Formation, with\n    Shafer limestone at top. (Fig. 29)]\nTwo more miles takes us to Anticline Overlook for the most sublime views\nin this part of the area. To the north (fig. 30) we look across the\nnortheast flank of the Cane Creek anticline, an upfold of the rocks\n(figs. 13, 14). Hurrah Pass straddles the narrow wall separating the\nColorado River and its canyon at the left from Kane Springs Canyon on\nthe right. The Colorado River appears again in the right background,\nwhere it leaves Moab Valley. The Kings Bottom syncline, or downfold\n(fig. 26), seen in the middle distance between the Cane Creek anticline\nand the Moab anticline, exposes a wide area of the Navajo Sandstone. The\nridge on the right skyline, composed of the Entrada Sandstone, is The\nWindows Section of Arches National Park, and the left skyline shows\nfaintly the distant Book Cliffs.\nOn the east wall of Kane Springs Canyon just to the right of figure 30\nis the Atomic King mine in the Cutler Formation, from which uranium ore\nhas been mined at intervals during the last 2 or 3 years.\n    [Illustration: LOOKING NORTH FROM ANTICLINE OVERLOOK, across axis of\n    Cane Creek anticline. Unimproved road crosses Hurrah Pass in\n    foreground. Colorado River at left is near Potash and in right\n    background is at Moab. For description of strata, see caption for\n    [Illustration: CANE CREEK ANTICLINE, looking northwest from\n    Anticline Overlook. Colorado River is cutting into limestone of\n    unnamed upper member of Hermosa Formation in lower bench at crest of\n    fold; Rico Formation, with bluish-white Shafer limestone at top,\n    forms upper curved bench; remainder of formations are as given in\n    caption for figure 29. Potash mine (right) and evaporation ponds\n    (left) are operated by Texas Gulf, Inc. Merrimac and Monitor Buttes\n    on right skyline are shown in figure 12. (Fig. 31)]\nTo the northwest (fig. 31; see also fig. 13) is a textbook example of a\nrock fold\u2014the Cane Creek anticline\u2014laid bare by the Colorado River\ncutting directly across its crest (fig. 1). Anticlines are noted as\nsources of or at least hunting grounds for oil and gas, and this one is\nno exception, although production has been relatively small and was\nstopped altogether in about 1963. Some oil and gas was produced also\nfrom wells on the north flank of Shafer dome, just beneath Dead Horse\nPoint (figs. 1, 15), but other favorable-looking structures farther\nsouth that were tested, such as Lockhart anticline, Rustler dome, and\nGibson dome (fig. 1), failed to yield commercial amounts (Baker, 1933,\np. 80-84). Some of the colorful events in the early days of wildcatting\nare noted on page 100.\nExploration for oil and gas led to the discovery of potash beneath\nseveral anticlines in eastern Utah and western Colorado. According to\nHite (1968, p. 325), the Cane Creek anticline is underlain by about\n5,200 feet of salt-bearing rocks in the Paradox Member of the Hermosa\nFormation (fig. 9), of which about 84 percent is halite (common salt,\nsodium chloride) and associated potash salts (sylvite, potassium\nchloride). The potash mine of Texas Gulf, Inc., is shown at the right in\nfigure 31. The white area to the left of the mine is waste common salt,\nwhich is recovered with the potash salts, and the white area with dark\nstripes at the left is a small part of more than 400 acres of\nevaporation ponds built to separate the salts. These ponds also can be\nseen from Dead Horse Point. The dark stripes are the visible parts of\nplastic membranes lining the ponds. Mining of an 11-foot bed of ore\nbegan by usual underground methods from the bottom of a shaft 2,788 feet\ndeep but became too difficult because of intense and intricate folding\nof the salt beds. Now the salts are being extracted by a method\ninvolving solution, wherein river water is introduced into the former\nworkings and allowed to stand long enough to dissolve the salts, then\nthe brine is pumped out to evaporation ponds, and the valuable potash\nsalts are separated from the sodium salts. Closeup views of the mine and\nevaporation ponds are seen in figures 70 and 71.\nAs noted earlier, most of the readily recognizable thin beds, such as\nthe White Rim Sandstone, pinch out south of here, and figure 31 marks\nthe northeasternmost exposure of the Shafer limestone at the top of the\nRico Formation. Northeast from here the Rico and overlying Cutler\nFormation are not readily separable and are included in the so-called\nCutler Formation undifferentiated. This land-laid unit of red sandstone,\nsiltstone, and shale is as much as 8,000 feet thick just southwest of\nthe ancient Uncompahgre highland (present Uncompahgre Plateau, in\nwestern Colorado and eastern Utah), from which it was derived by erosion\nduring the Permian Period (fig. 80).\nThe high mesas west of Canyonlands National Park do not form as distinct\na mainland as does Hatch Point, but rather are broken up into a maze of\npeninsulas and islands, as shown in figure 1. Owing to the gentle\nnorthwestward dip of the rock strata, the altitude of the mesas declines\nfrom about 7,000 feet in the south to about 5,300 feet in the north and\nnorthwest, where the whole aspect of the country becomes more rounded\nand subdued. As shown on the map (fig. 1), however, the name Orange\nCliffs is applied to much of the eastward-facing cliffs, which are made\nof the Wingate Sandstone capped by the Kayenta Formation. Remnants of\nthe Navajo Sandstone increase in number to the north and west, where\nremnants of the next two younger rock units\u2014the Carmel Formation and the\nEntrada Sandstone\u2014also occur. Thus, the cliff-forming units dip downward\nbeneath younger rocks that form the relatively flat Green River Desert\nto the northwest, also referred to as the San Rafael Desert. Figure 32\nis a view southeastward from The Spur, shown on the map (fig. 1) as the\nnorthern section of the Orange Cliffs.\nAt present (1973), the areas west of the Green River and the main stem\nof the Colorado River are the least accessible of any in the park and in\nthis respect have not changed much since Butch Cassidy and his Wild\nBunch roamed the area, except that the former main horse trails are now\njeep trails. A secondary road south from the town of Green River goes\npast the north side of the Horseshoe Canyon Detached Unit (figs. 1, 2)\nand connects with another secondary road to the west, which joins Utah\nHighway 24 at Temple Junction, 20 miles north of Hanksville; near\nHorseshoe Canyon a jeep trail leads south to the Orange Cliffs. Owing to\nblowing sand, these \u201croads\u201d are not considered reliable for passenger\ncars and are best negotiated by four-wheel-drive vehicles or horses.\n    [Illustration: VIEW SOUTHEASTWARD FROM THE SPUR, in northern section\n    of Orange Cliffs. Junction Butte and Grand View Point on left\n    skyline; Abajo Mountains in extreme distance to right of center.\n    Photograph by Parker Hamilton, Flagstaff, Ariz. (Fig. 32)]\n    [Illustration: LOOKING NORTH DOWN MILLARD CANYON from head of canyon\n    a mile northwest of French Spring. Note small arch or window in the\n    Navajo Sandstone at upper left, which is shown in figure 1 as\n    \u201cArch.\u201d The Navajo is underlain by the cliff-forming Kayenta\n    Formation and Wingate Sandstone resting upon a sloping base of the\n    Chinle Formation and, farther downstream, ledges and slopes of the\n    Moenkopi Formation. Photograph by Parker Hamilton, Flagstaff, Ariz.\nAccording to Baker (1971, p. 12), the road leading eastward along North\nPoint was used by the Wild Bunch in traveling to French Spring, whence\nthey dropped down Millard Canyon (fig. 33) and crossed the Green River\nat Bonita Bend, which is just east of Buttes of the Cross (fig. 64).\nThey also followed the Old Spanish Trail from the Henry Mountains\neastward across the Dirty Devil River, up North Hatch Canyon, across\nSunset Pass, and down across the Land of Standing Rocks to Spanish\nBottom on the Colorado River (fig. 1). After crossing the river, they\nfollowed the trail up Lower Red Lake Canyon (fig. 59) and eastward\nthrough The Needles to Monticello.\n    [Illustration: Petroglyph]\nThe Benchlands\nThe White Rim, a broad benchland some 1,000-1,200 feet below the\nsouthern half of Island in the Sky, and some of the associated\nbenchlands west of the Green River and between the Colorado River and\nHatch Point have already been discussed as viewed from Island in the\nSky, the White Rim Trail, or Hatch Point. There remain for consideration\nseveral other prominent benchlands.\n                  The Maze and Land of Standing Rocks\nThe Maze, an intricately carved series of canyons and gullies, has been\ncalled a \u201cThirty-square-mile puzzle in sandstone\u201d (Findley, 1971, p.\n71-73), and one can readily visualize a king-sized rat struggling in\nvain to find a way out. The rock is the Cedar Mesa Sandstone, which here\nunderlies red shales beneath the White Rim Sandstone. South of The Maze\nan area containing tall spires was appropriately named by the Indians\n\u201c_Toom\u2019-pin wu-near\u2019 Tu-weap\u2019_,\u201d or \u201cLand of Standing Rocks\u201d (Powell,\nWest of The Maze is Elaterite Basin, so named because of a dark-brown\nelastic mineral resin called elaterite, which seeps from the White Rim\nSandstone. One of these seeps is shown in figure 34, and a wedge-shaped\nlayer of the sandstone is shown in figure 35. In the Range Canyon area\nshown in figure 35, sand was being laid down in an offshore bar at the\nleft, while red silts and muds were being deposited on land to the\nright. The dark bed just above the White Rim near the middle of the\nphotograph is the Hoskinnini Tongue of the Moenkopi Formation, which\nintertongues with and pinches out in beds of the Moenkopi Formation to\nleft. These are excellent examples of what geologists call facies\nchanges.\nSouth of the Land of Standing Rocks are equally colorful areas known as\nThe Fins and Ernies Country (named after Ernie Larson, an early-day\nsheep man). A prominent row of spires near Cataract Canyon is known as\nThe Doll House (fig. 36).\n    [Illustration: ELATERITE SEEPING FROM WHITE RIM SANDSTONE in\n    Elaterite Basin west of The Maze. Elaterite is a dark-brown elastic\n    mineral resin. Photograph by Donald L. Baars. (Fig. 34)]\n    [Illustration: WHITE RIM SANDSTONE in north wall of Range Canyon,\n    south of Elaterite Basin. Bed thins from 230 feet at left (west) to\n    38 feet at right (east), and disappears (by facies change into red\n    shales) a short distance farther east. See description in text of\n    pinch out of Hoskinnini Tongue. Bed at top of mesa is Moss Back\n    Member of Chinle Formation. Photograph by Donald L. Baars. (Fig.\n    [Illustration: THE DOLL HOUSE, eroded from Cedar Mesa Sandstone just\n    west of Spanish Bottom, above Cataract Canyon. Notice the red layer\n    at right offset by a fault. Photograph by Parker Hamilton,\n    Flagstaff, Ariz. (Fig. 36)]\nThe Needles district is currently (1973) the most highly developed part\nof the unfinished park as the result of design, not accident, for this\ndistrict includes the greatest number and widest variety of spectacular\nfeatures\u2014The Needles proper, The Grabens (pronounced gr\u00e4b\u01ddns), colossal\narches and other erosional forms, large meadows such as Squaw Flat and\nChesler and Virginia Parks, a wide variety of prehistoric ruins and\npictographs, and Confluence Overlook for viewing the joining of two\nmighty rivers\u2014the Green and the Colorado. Like the White Rim and The\nMaze, the Needles district is another of the broad benchlands about\nmidway between the high mesas and the deep canyons.\nUtah Highway 211, as mentioned already, is a 38-mile-long paved road\nleading to the Needles district from U.S. Highway 163 at a point 15\nmiles north of Monticello and 18 miles south of La Sal Junction. The\nintersection is well marked by Church Rock (fig. 37), a butte of the\nEntrada Sandstone. Highway 211 gradually climbs an eastward-dipping\nslope of the Navajo Sandstone dotted with a few buttes and patches of\nthe Entrada Sandstone, such as Church Rock, and reaches the first of two\nsummits 3 miles west of Highway 163. The road crosses a broad gentle\nvalley in the Navajo Sandstone, reaches the second summit about 10 miles\nfrom the highway, then descends steeply through the Navajo Sandstone and\npart of the Kayenta Formation to Indian Creek, 1\u00bd miles below, and\nfollows this creek nearly to The Needles. Half a mile down the canyon\ntakes us to the top of the cliff-forming Wingate Sandstone, and another\nhalf mile brings us to Indian Creek State Park and its striking\nNewspaper Rock (fig. 5). Another 1\u00be miles takes us to the base of the\nWingate and top of the underlying Chinle Formation, which forms the red\nslope beneath the cliffs.\nHistoric Dugout Ranch (p. 14) is 19 miles west of the highway, and from\nhere a dry-weather road leads southward up north Cottonwood Creek 37\nmiles to Beef Basin and connects with roads to Elk Ridge and the Bears\nEars, both just west of the Abajo Mountains. Just west of the ranch we\nget a good view ahead of two historic landmarks\u2014North and South\nSix-Shooter Peaks (fig. 38), so named because of their resemblance to a\npair of revolvers pointing skyward. The guns are sculptured from slivers\nof Wingate Sandstone resting upon conical mounds of the Chinle. These\ncan be seen from a wide area; both appear in figures 38 and 40, and the\nnorth one is seen in figure 77.\n    [Illustration: CHURCH ROCK, standing guard at the intersection of\n    U.S. Highway 163 and the east end of Utah Highway 211 leading to the\n    Needles district. Rock is Entrada Sandstone: red foundation is Dewey\n    Bridge Member; yellowish smooth rounded body of church is Slick Rock\n    Member; white steeple is Moab Member. La Sal Mountains at left.\n    [Illustration: NORTH AND SOUTH SIX-SHOOTER PEAKS, looking west from\n    entrance road to The Needles. (Fig. 38)]\nA mile west of Dugout Ranch we descend to the top of the Moss Back\nMember of the Chinle, a ledge of gray-green sandstone forming the base\nof this generally red formation, and reach the base of the member at the\ntop of the Moenkopi Formation in the next mile and a half. The Moss Back\nis uranium bearing in nearby areas.\nAt 3.8 miles west of Dugout Ranch a poorly marked road on the left\ncrosses Indian Creek, then forks; the left-hand fork follows the bed of\nLavender Canyon, and the right-hand fork goes into Davis Canyon.\nHeadwaters of both these canyons are new additions to the park.\nThe red Organ Rock Tongue of the Cutler Formation is seen about 3 miles\nbeyond the turnoff, or about 6 miles west of Dugout Ranch. Another 1\u00bd\nmiles takes us down in the rock column (fig. 9) to the top of the Cedar\nMesa Sandstone. The White Rim Sandstone, which forms such a prominent\nbench around the southern part of Island in the Sky (figs. 20-23) and\nwest of the Green River, is missing from the Needles district, its place\nin the rock column being taken by red shales and sandstones of the\nCutler Formation. South of Indian Creek other underlying red beds of the\nCutler are gradually replaced in turn by the thick Cedar Mesa Sandstone.\nErosion has reduced the general level of the Needles district to or into\nthe Cedar Mesa Sandstone, but many streams have cut into the underlying\nRico Formation, and the Colorado River has cut also into, and in places\nthrough, the limestones of the unnamed upper member of the Hermosa\nFormation. Our first view of The Needles is another 4 miles, and 1 more\nmile takes us to the park boundary, nearly 32 miles from the U.S.\nHighway 163. We pass a road on the right leading to Canyonlands Resort,\nand on the left is a new line camp which replaces the restored one at\nCave Spring (fig. 6).\nThe unusual features of the Needles district are due in some part to the\ncharacter and thickness of the underlying rocks but in large part to\nerosion along joints and faults. Joints are fractures along which no\ndisplacement has taken place, and faults are fractures along which there\nhas been displacement of the two sides relative to one another (fig.\n76). The Cedar Mesa Sandstone comprises 500 to 600 feet or more of hard\nwell-cemented buff, white, and pink beds of massive sandstone. On the\nbasis of the type and amount of deformation and erosion of the Cedar\nMesa Sandstone and underlying rocks, the Needles district can be divided\ninto three differing areas: (1) an eastern area where the rocks are\nrelatively undeformed but are carved into an intricate series of\ncanyons, including Salt Canyon and the upper reaches of Davis and\nLavender Canyons\u2014the section of the district that contains most of the\narches and Indian ruins; (2) The Needles proper, where tensional forces\nhave cracked the brittle Cedar Mesa Sandstone into a crazy-quilt pattern\nof square to rectangular blocks separated by joints widened by erosion,\ncreating a myriad of spires and pinnacles; and (3) The Grabens, where\nthe previously jointed rocks were later subjected to additional\ntensional forces that produced a series of nearly parallel faults that\ntrend northeastward and separate downdropped blocks of rock, called\ngrabens, from intervening stationary or upthrown blocks of rock, called\nhorsts.\nLet us examine each of these areas in the order named. For traveling to\nmost features a four-wheel-drive vehicle is strongly recommended. Some\nvisitors negotiate the jeep trails with dune buggies or motorcycles, but\nfour-wheel-drive vehicles are considered safer and generally more\nreliable. A few trails can be traveled only on foot.\nSquaw Flat, in the western part of the relatively undeformed area, is a\nnearly flat area of lower Cedar Mesa Sandstone covered here and there by\na thin layer of sparsely vegetated soil and surrounded by generally low\nhilly erosional forms in the upper part of the sandstone. Short canyons\nand alcoves in the sandstone hills along the west side afford excellent\nsemi-private campsites, each of which has its own paved access road,\npicnic table, and trash can (fig. 39). Moreover, ground water at shallow\ndepth in the underlying sandstone has encouraged the growth of\nexceptionally large pi\u00f1on and juniper trees that provide welcome shade.\n    [Illustration: SQUAW FLAT CAMPGROUND, in the Needles district, in\n    Cedar Mesa Sandstone. Large pi\u00f1on and juniper trees draw ground\n    water from this sandstone. (Fig. 39)]\n                   SALT, DAVIS, AND LAVENDER CANYONS\nA glance at the southeast corner of the map (fig. 1) shows that most of\nthe arches and prehistoric ruins in the park are in Salt Canyon and its\nmain tributary, Horse Canyon. A few are in adjacent Davis and Lavender\nCanyons, whose headwaters were recently annexed to the park. These\ncanyons are accessible only by negotiating the streambeds on\nfour-wheel-drive vehicles, horseback, or foot. Salt or Horse Canyons are\nbest conquered by four-wheel-drive vehicles plus short hikes in the\nnorthern part and long hikes in the southern part.\nAn aerial view (fig. 40) eastward across Salt Canyon shows that erosion\nhas produced an intricate series of meandering canyons separated by\nrather narrow walls of the Cedar Mesa Sandstone, resembling somewhat The\nMaze, west of the Green River.\n    [Illustration: AERIAL VIEW EASTWARD ACROSS SALT CANYON. Note narrow\n    walls and pinnacles between canyons and alcoves. Six-Shooter Peaks\n    are in left background. Photograph by Wayne Alcorn, National Park\n    Service. (Fig. 40)]\nThe massive sandstone beds of the Cedar Mesa are composed of sand grains\ncemented together by calcium carbonate (CaCO\u2083), which also forms the\nmineral called calcite and the rock known as limestone. Limestone and\ncalcite are soluble in acid, even weak acid such as carbonic acid\n(H\u00b7HCO\u2083), formed by solution of carbon dioxide (CO\u2082) in water. Ground\nwater, found everywhere in rock openings at differing depths beneath the\nsurface, contains considerable dissolved carbon dioxide derived from\ndecaying organic matter in soil, from the atmosphere, and from other\nsources. Even rain water and snow contain small amounts absorbed from\nthe atmosphere\u2014enough to dissolve small amounts of limestone or of\ncalcite cement in sandstone. The calcite cement in the Cedar Mesa and\nmany other sandstones is unevenly distributed, so the cement is removed\nfirst from places that contain the least amounts, and once the cement is\ndissolved, the loose sand grains are carried away by gravity, wind, or\nwater. Thus, relatively thin walls of sandstone containing irregularly\ndistributed patches of soluble cement are prime targets for the\nformation of potholes (fig. 46), alcoves, and caves. Once a breakthrough\noccurs, weakened chunks from the ceiling tend to fall off, and arches of\nvarious shapes are produced, because an arch is naturally the strongest\nform that can support the overlying rock load. Man, from the ancient\nGreeks, Romans, and Egyptians to modern day, has long made use of arches\nin building bridges, aqueducts, temples, cathedrals, and other enduring\nedifices. All the spectacular arches we are about to see were carved\nfrom the Cedar Mesa Sandstone.\nLet us begin our tour of Salt and Horse Canyons by driving a\nfour-wheel-drive vehicle eastward from the fine campground at Squaw\nFlat. After about a mile we pass the Wooden Shoe (fig. 41) capping a\nridge south of the highway; it contains one of the smallest arches we\nwill encounter. Three quarters of a mile east of the temporary ranger\nstation we come to Cave Spring, an old restored cowboy line camp\npictured in figure 6. This and an adjacent cave containing a spring are\npart of the interesting well-marked Environmental Trail, well worth the\nhalf hour or so it requires.\n    [Illustration: WOODEN SHOE, near temporary ranger headquarters, the\n    Needles district. Carved in Cedar Mesa Sandstone. (Fig. 41)]\nThe jeep trail up Salt Canyon lies mostly in the sandy bed of Salt Creek\nbut includes a few shortcuts across goosenecks and some rough rocky\nstretches around rapids or waterfalls. It is best traveled when the\ncanyon bottom is moist but not soaked. When the sand is soft and dry, a\nshift into four-wheel drive is generally necessary. Signs warn of\nquicksand, which occurs when the sand is fully saturated; hence, summer\nthundershowers sometimes require delaying or postponing the trip. When\nin doubt, consult a park ranger for expected weather and trail\nconditions. Thundershowers sometimes occur so suddenly and violently as\nto cause serious floods, and the \u201croad\u201d is closed when heavy rain is\nexpected. However, if an unexpected storm occurs while you are up in the\ncanyon, try to reach high ground and wait until the flood subsides. If\nyou do not have time to get your vehicle out of the flood\u2019s path, at\nleast get yourself and passengers to a safe spot.\n    [Illustration: PAUL BUNYANS POTTY, on east wall of Horse Canyon.\nTwo and a half miles south of Cave Spring we reach the confluence with\nHorse Canyon, marked by a sign at the Y giving distances to points of\ninterest up each canyon. Let us try Horse Canyon first. After about a\nmile we pass Paul Bunyans Potty on the left\u2014one of the most aptly titled\nfeatures of the park (fig. 42). Two miles south of the Y is Keyhole\nRuin, nestled in a cleft high on the cliff to our left\u2014a granary built\nby the Anasazi. Here we face another Y. The left fork leads half a mile\neast to Tower Ruin (fig. 4), one of the largest and best preserved\nAnasazi granaries in the park. The right fork takes us on up Horse\nCanyon, and in about 2 miles we pass Gothic Arch on the right. In 2 more\nmiles, 4 miles from Salt Canyon, a short hike up the tributary to the\nright leads to Castle Arch and Thirteen Faces. Assuming we have taken\nphotographs of the important features along the way, it probably is\nabout time to return to camp at Squaw Flat, unless we choose to spend\nthe night at Peek-a-boo Spring and primitive campground in Salt Canyon,\nabout 1.2 miles above the confluence with Horse Canyon.\nAnother drive takes us up Salt Canyon 8\u00bd miles past the confluence with\nHorse Canyon to another confluence and Y, which has a primitive campsite\nwithout water. One mile up the left, or southeast, tributary is a\nparking area where we begin the \u00bd-mile walk to Angel Arch, considered by\nmany people to be the most beautiful and spectacular arch in the park if\nnot in the entire canyon country. Angel Arch was drawn for the front\ncover by John R. Stacy and is pictured in figure 43.\n    [Illustration: Petroglyph]\n    [Illustration: ANGEL ARCH, along tributary of Salt Canyon. (Fig.\n    [Illustration: FISHEYE ARCH, along upper Salt Canyon, looking north.\n    Photograph by National Park Service. (Fig. 44)]\nFrom the last Y we can proceed only about 2\u00bd miles farther up main Salt\nCanyon by vehicle, and the remaining features shown on the map (fig. 1)\ncan be reached only on foot. The All American Man, a unique pictograph\nreferred to earlier (fig. 3), is about 3\u00bd miles up the canyon. Those\nhardy souls who wish to hike many additional miles to the head of Salt\nCanyon will be rewarded with views of four additional arches and several\nruins. Two of these arches are shown in figures 44 and 45.\nThe more adventuresome may wish to explore upper Lavender and Davis\nCanyons by driving up the sand washes in a four-wheel-drive vehicle, but\ninquiry should be made from a park ranger regarding access to the canyon\nmouths and condition of the washes. Hand Holt Arch (fig. 46) and Cleft\nArch (fig. 47) are two of the rewarding sights in Lavender Canyon, and\nfigure 48 shows one of the arches in Davis Canon.\n    [Illustration: WEDDING RING ARCH, along upper Salt Canyon.\n    Photograph by National Park Service. (Fig. 45)]\n    [Illustration: HAND HOLT ARCH, in Lavender Canyon. Note holes in\n    sandstone formed by solution and wind scour. Photograph by National\n    Park Service. (Fig. 46)]\n    [Illustration: CLEFT ARCH, in upper Lavender Canyon, looking north.\n    Photograph by E. N. Hinrichs. (Fig. 47)]\n    [Illustration: ARCH, in upper Davis Canyon, looking northwest.\n    Photograph by E. N. Hinrichs. (Fig. 48)]\n                      THE NEEDLES AND THE GRABENS\n    [Illustration: THE NEEDLES, looking southwest from Squaw Flat. (Fig.\n    [Illustration: CHESLER PARK IN THE NEEDLES, aerial view looking\n    northeast. Photograph by Walter Meayers Edwards, \u00a9 1971 National\n    Geographic Society. (Fig. 50)]\nThe northeastern edge of The Needles proper can be seen from Squaw Flat\n(fig. 49), but the true character of The Needles can be appreciated\nbetter from the air (fig. 50). You cannot get far into The Needles\nwithout traversing part of The Grabens, so we will consider them\ntogether. An aerial oblique view (fig. 51) shows The Needles in the\nforeground and The Grabens in the middle background. As shown on the map\n(fig. 1), you can hike into The Needles and The Grabens from Squaw Flat,\nbut let us make the trip using a four-wheel-drive vehicle and several\nshort hikes.\n    [Illustration: THE NEEDLES AND THE GRABENS, aerial oblique view\n    looking west over Chesler Park in foreground, The Grabens to the\n    right, and Cataract Canyon behind. Photograph by U.S. Army Air\nOrdinary passenger cars now can go 2\u00be miles west of Squaw Flat to Soda\nSpring, at the east base of Elephant Hill, but beyond Soda Spring\nfour-wheel-drive vehicles should be used. Some people conquer the hill\nin dune buggies or on motorcycles, but this is considered quite\ndangerous. Both sides of this short (1\u00bc miles) but formidable hill have\nswitchback curves too sharp to negotiate in the regular manner, so\nspecial driving techniques must be followed. On the east side, you must\ndrive out on a flat rock, jockey back and forth until turned completely\naround, then proceed up the hill. On the west side, you descend a\n40-percent grade to a shelf, _back_ down a narrow stretch of about\n30-percent grade and back sharply to the left onto a flat rock, then go\nforward again. On the return trip the whole procedure is carried out in\nreverse order.\nWest of Elephant Hill, the road reaches a Y, at which you must turn left\non a one-way road; the right-hand road is for later one-way return to\nthe Y. Why the left-hand fork is one way soon becomes apparent, for the\nroad leads into a narrow shallow graben, called Devils Pocket (fig. 51),\nbetween rock walls, and is barely wide enough for one car. After about 2\nmiles the graben widens out into a beautiful spot called the Devils\nKitchen, which contains several picnic tables tucked into shady recesses\nin the sandstone walls. This is the starting point for two trails\nleading southward by different routes to Chesler Park, from which other\ntrails lead to Druid Arch or back to Squaw Flat.\nFrom the Devils Kitchen, the road turns abruptly westward for about half\na mile to another Y in about the middle of Devils Lane, one of the\nlarger grabens and one of two whose entire length is traversed by roads,\nas shown on the map (fig. 1). Only the left fork is a two-way road, so\nlet us take the left fork 2\u00be miles southwestward to the next road\njunction. About halfway down Devils Lane, a fault crossing the graben\nhas created a narrow steep ridge appropriately called SOB Hill, because\nthe road over it creates a challenge that some vehicles fail to meet on\nthe first attempt!\nThe next road intersection is now shown on the map (fig. 1) as a sharp\nturn leading southwest to Ruin Park and Beef Basin. The abandoned left\nfork (not shown) leads east into Chesler Park. This park, shown in\nfigure 50 and near the bottom of figure 51, is a beautiful natural\nmeadow of several hundred acres fenced by a natural wall of needles and\ncontaining a central island of needles. Because of vehicular damage to\nmeadow vegetation, the National Park Service found it necessary to close\nthe road. To reach Chesler Park now, vehicles must go right a short\ndistance to the Chesler Canyon turnoff, then left about half a mile to a\nparking area. From here, a \u00bd-mile hike east through the narrow Joint\nTrail gets us to the south side of Chesler Park, where we join the\nabandoned road to reach the northeast corner of the park and the trails\ninto The Needles proper (fig. 1).\nThis change adds 1\u00be miles (one way) to the hike to Druid Arch, making\nthe round trip about 11\u00bd miles. At the old trailhead, near the northeast\ncorner of Chesler Park, is a sign proclaiming the need for rubber-soled\nshoes and water, and I strongly support these admonitions, for much of\nthe hike is on bare smooth sandstone and includes steep slopes and\n_generally_ dry waterfalls. The hike should not be attempted by anyone\nnot in good physical condition, and it should not be undertaken alone;\ntwo or more people should travel together.\nAs shown in figure 52, the trail to Druid Arch from Chesler Park starts\nout on bare Cedar Mesa Sandstone marked by a succession of rock cairns,\ntwo of which are visible and without which the trail would soon be lost.\nThe trail drops rapidly down into Elephant Canyon, which is then\nfollowed southward 2 miles to the arch. This canyon has cut through the\nCedar Mesa into the underlying Rico Formation, and much of the canyon is\nquite narrow and steep sided, as shown in figure 53. Although much of\nthe Rico consists of red beds laid down above sea level by ancient\nstreams, the trail crosses several thin beds of dark-gray hard limestone\ncontaining fossil marine seashells and ancient sea anemones whose\noriginal calcium carbonate parts have been locally replaced by jasper\n(red iron-bearing silica). When at last the weary hiker makes the steep\nclimb out of the canyon and rounds the final bare-rock curve, the sudden\nand striking view of Druid Arch (fig. 54) seems worth every bit of the\neffort\u2014at least it was to me and my hiking companion.\nAfter my friend and I hiked to Druid Arch and after the length of this\nroute was increased to a round-trip distance of 11\u00bd miles, a new route\nwas constructed having a round-trip length of only 8\u00bd miles. This new\ntrail starts at the end of the passenger-car road at the east edge of\nElephant Hill, goes 1\u00bc miles southwest to join an older trail in\nElephant Canyon, then follows this canyon 3 miles south to the arch.\n    [Illustration: TRAIL TO DRUID ARCH, near its beginning at northeast\n    corner of Chesler Park, marked only by rock cairns, two of which are\n    visible. (Fig. 52)]\n    [Illustration: UPPER ELEPHANT CANYON, containing trail to Druid\n    [Illustration: DRUID ARCH, from end of arduous trail shown in\nAfter returning to our vehicle west of Chesler Park and backtracking\nover SOB Hill to the intersection in the middle of Devils Lane, let us\nproceed northward on a one-way road to and beyond the Silver Stairs for\na closer look at Devils Lane and other grabens to the west and for a\nlook at the confluence of the Green and Colorado Rivers. But first let\nus pause and reflect upon the possible origin of The Grabens.\nGeologists have different opinions as to just how grabens and complex\nsystems of joints have formed, but all seem to agree that tensional\nforces were involved. Some think that solution of salt and gypsum from\nthe Paradox Member of the Hermosa Formation by ground-water movement\nallowed the brittle Cedar Mesa Sandstone and other overlying rocks to\nsag, producing tension cracks and faults. Others believe that removal of\nthe salt and gypsum occurred by plastic flowage toward the Meander\nanticline (see p. 108 and fig. 61), whose axis follows the Colorado\nRiver southwest from The Loop, past the confluence, and to and beyond\nSpanish Bottom. Some suppose that compaction due to the weight of the\nabnormally thick pile of sedimentary rock underlying the area may have\ncaused the sagging, cracking, and faulting. The rock deformation may\nhave resulted from a combination of these and possibly other things, of\ncourse, but whatever the cause, the resulting features are very\nstriking. There was room to show only two of the named grabens within\nthe park on the map (fig. 1), but all are shown in figure 51, and\nseveral appear in figure 59. A diagramatic cross section of a typical\ngraben is shown in figure 55. The tension faults shown in figures 55 and\n56 are called normal faults, in contrast to faults formed by horizontal\ncompression, which are called reverse faults (figs. 75, 76).\nThe Grabens range in width from about 7 or 8 feet at the north end of\nDevils Pocket to nearly 2,000 feet at the south end of Red Lake Canyon,\nbut the average width is about 500 feet. The floors of The Grabens are\ncovered by soil and grass, but the displacement along the faults is\nbelieved to approximate the height of the walls\u2014nearly 300 feet. That\nThe Grabens are of fairly recent origin is attested by the fact that\nmost of the walls are vertical fault faces showing little sign of\nerosion (fig. 57); that no through drainage has yet been established in\nCyclone Canyon, which is a series of basins with low divides between;\nand that several pre-existing streams were interrupted or diverted by\nthe faulting.\n    [Illustration: A SIMPLE GRABEN, formed by tension in directions\n    indicated by horizontal arrows. Downdropped central block is the\n    graben; stationary or uplifted blocks on sides are called horsts.\n    From Hansen (1969, p. 123). See also figure 76. (Fig. 55)]\n    [Illustration: CUTAWAY VIEW OF NORMAL FAULT, resulting from tension\n    in and lengthening of the earth\u2019s crust. Note amount of displacement\n    and repetition of strata. Compare with figure 76. From Hansen (1969,\nNow let us continue our journey northward along Devils Lane. Just before\nreaching the Silver Stairs we may wish to pause long enough to take in\nthe distant view to the northwest toward Junction Butte and Grand View\nPoint. (See frontispiece.) After descending the steep Silver Stairs in a\nnarrow cleft between rock walls, we reach another intersection: a\ntwo-way road continuing northwest goes to our destination, and a one-way\nroad turning right returns to Elephant Hill via part of Elephant Canyon\nAbout 2 miles to the northwest we cross the north end of Cyclone Canyon,\nthe largest graben. It contains a road 3\u00bd miles long and is well worth\nseeing. About one-half mile from the south end, an old trail follows Red\nLake and Lower Red Lake Canyons to the Colorado River across from\nSpanish Bottom (figs. 1, 61).\nFrom near the north end of Cyclone Canyon (figs. 1, 59), we drive west\nthree-fourths mile to a parking area and hike one-half mile to an\noverlook for a spectacular view of the confluence of the Green and\nColorado Rivers (figs. 59, 60) and of the northern part of Cataract\nCanyon (fig. 61). These and other canyons are discussed in the next\nchapter.\n    [Illustration: WEST WALL OF CYCLONE CANYON GRABEN, a nearly vertical\n    fault face showing little sign of erosion. (Fig. 57)]\n    [Illustration: LOWER ELEPHANT CANYON, followed by jeep trail from\n    near Silver Stairs to Elephant Hill. (Fig. 58)]\n    [Illustration: THE CONFLUENCE FROM THE AIR, and some of The Grabens.\n    See also figure 51. Vertical aerial photograph by U.S. Geological\n    Survey. (Fig. 59)]\n    [Illustration: THE CONFLUENCE FROM CONFLUENCE OVERLOOK, shown in\n    figures 1 and 59. Green River entering from left, Colorado River\n    from right. Red beds near top are Rico Formation, overlain by Cedar\n    Mesa Sandstone and underlain by unnamed upper member of Hermosa\n    Formation. (Fig. 60)]\n    [Illustration: CATARACT CANYON, from the rim, looking south to\n    Spanish Bottom at bend. Beds dip to left and right away from\n    Colorado River, which here is followed by axis of Meander anticline.\n    (See p. 108). Cliff below overhanging rock resembles profile of a\n    man; the rock resembles his hat. Photograph by Walter Meayers\n    Edwards, \u00a9 1971 National Geographic Society. (Fig. 61)]\nCanyons of the Green and Colorado Rivers\nWe have discussed two of the three major topographic divisions of the\npark\u2014the high mesas and the benchlands\u2014and there remains to consider the\nthird division\u2014the canyons of the mighty Green and Colorado Rivers and\nsome of their tributaries. After we discuss a few features common to\nboth rivers, we will take up the details of each river.\nA glance at the map (fig. 1) shows that above the confluence both rivers\nare very crooked and contain many loops, or meanders, the most striking\nof which are Bowknot Bend of the Green River (fig. 62), several miles\nnorth of the park, and The Loop of the Colorado River (fig. 74). In\ncontrast, the main stem of the Colorado River below the confluence is\nconsiderably straighter. Not apparent on the map are the facts that the\ncrooked rivers above the confluence have very gentle grades and are free\nfrom rapids or falls, whereas a few miles south of the confluence the\nmain stem plunges into Cataract Canyon\u2014the steepest and wildest reach of\nthe river, containing 64 rapids. These differences are partly explicable\non the basis of the geologic structure and character of the rocks\nthrough which the rivers have cut. Above the confluence, the soft strata\ndip gently northward, so in flowing generally southward the two rivers\nare cutting \u201cagainst the grain,\u201d which tends to impede their flow and\nthus reduce their grades. Below the confluence, the hard limestones of\nthe Hermosa Formation lie relatively flat for several miles and then\nbegin to dip gently southward, thus allowing the river to cut \u201cwith the\ngrain\u201d and therefore drop more rapidly.\nThe quiet, smooth waters above the confluence permit power boating\nbetween the towns of Green River, Utah, and Moab during part of the\nyear, whereas the rapids below Spanish Bottom, 3\u00bd miles below the\nconfluence, restrict river travel to float trips using sturdy boats or\nrafts.\nAbove the confluence, a so-called Friendship Cruise is run each year\nduring the Memorial Day weekend. Participants tow their own power boats\non trailers to the town of Green River, and after the boats are\nlaunched, facilities are available at nominal cost for transporting cars\nand boat trailers to Moab to await the arrival of the boats. Although\nsome high-powered speedboats are reported to have made the run down the\nGreen River to the confluence then up the Colorado River to Moab in a\nfew hours, the trip for most boats requires 2 to 7 days.\nTrips by power boats, including jet boats, can be arranged from either\nGreen River or Moab. Some passengers from Moab return by jeep from\nLathrop Canyon via the White Rim Trail, and some from Green River return\non land via the Horsethief Trail. Many prefer the quieter float trip\ndown to the confluence, with return to either town by a prescheduled\npower boat, and some more adventurous souls float through the rapids of\nCataract Canyon all the way to Lake Powell.\nIn the spring of 1972, a 93-foot 150-passenger stern-wheeler (fig. 69)\nbegan passenger service on the Colorado River from just above Potash to\nthe foot of Dead Horse Point and return (Lansford, 1972).\n                     Entrenched and cutoff meanders\nMeanders such as those above the confluence generally are formed by\nstreams flowing in soft alluvium consisting of clay, silt, and sand,\nsuch as along the Mississippi River below Cairo, Ill. But there is no\nsoft alluvium along the Colorado and Green Rivers, so how did these\nmeanders form? They probably attained their serpentine shape while\ncutting in softer, younger material, which long ago was removed by\nerosion, and then continued to cut their crooked channels down, until\nthey created the deep rock-walled canyons in which they now flow as\n\u201centrenched\u201d meanders.\nMeandering streams tend to shorten their lengths from time to time by\ncutting through narrow walls between adjacent loops, leaving abandoned\nhorseshoe-shaped channels or lakes. In most of the United States these\nare known as oxbows or cutoff meanders, but in the desert Southwest they\nare commonly called by the Spanish term \u201crincon.\u201d Cutoffs are common\nalong soft alluvial channels such as the lower Mississippi River valley\nbut are rare along channels whose meanders are entrenched into hard\nrock. Thus, there have been many natural (and several manmade) cutoffs\nalong the lower Mississippi during historic times, but the most recent\nones along the Green and upper Colorado Rivers probably occurred a\nmillion or so years ago, during the Pleistocene Epoch (figs. 65, 80).\nMark Twain served several years as an expert riverboat pilot on the\nMississippi River during which several cutoffs took place. Chapter 27 of\nhis \u201cLife on the Mississippi\u201d contains sage references to both natural\nand artificial cutoffs and concludes with a few good-natured jibes at\ngeologists in particular and scientists in general:\n  Therefore the Mississippi between Cairo and New Orleans was twelve\n  hundred and fifteen miles long one hundred and seventy six years ago.\n  It was eleven hundred and eighty after the cutoff of 1722. It was one\n  thousand and forty after the American Bend cut-off. It has lost\n  sixty-seven miles since. Consequently, its length is only nine hundred\n  and seventy-three miles at present.\n  Now, if I wanted to be one of those ponderous scientific people, and\n  \u201clet on\u201d to prove what had occurred in the remote past by what had\n  occurred in a given time in the recent past, or what will occur in the\n  far future by what has occurred in late years, what an opportunity is\n  here! Geology never had such a chance, nor such exact data to argue\n  from! Nor \u201cdevelopment of species,\u201d either! Glacial epochs are great\n  things, but they are vague\u2014vague. Please observe:\n  In the space of one hundred and seventy-six years the Lower\n  Mississippi has shortened itself two hundred and forty two miles. That\n  is an average of a trifle over one mile and a third per year.\n  Therefore, any calm person, who is not blind or idiotic, can see that\n  in the Old O\u00f6litic Silurian Period, just a million years ago next\n  November, the Lower Mississippi River was upward of one million three\n  hundred thousand miles long, and stuck out over the Gulf of Mexico\n  like a fishing rod. And by the same token any person can see that\n  seven hundred and forty-two years from now the Lower Mississippi will\n  be only a mile and three-quarters long, and Cairo and New Orleans will\n  have joined their streets together, and be plodding comfortably along\n  under a single mayor and a mutual board of aldermen. There is\n  something fascinating about science. One gets such wholesale returns\n  of conjecture out of such a trifling investment of fact.\nMuch more has been written about the Green River and the main stem of\nthe Colorado than about the Colorado above the confluence (the former\nGrand River), because all but one of the early float trips began on the\nGreen. The first reports concerning Powell\u2019s memorable voyages of 1869\nand 1871 were his articles published in Scribners Monthly during 1874\nand 1875 followed by his formal 1875 report \u201cExploration of the Colorado\nRiver of the West and Its Tributaries.\u201d As pointed out by Porter (1969,\np. 21), however, Powell\u2019s narrative\n  is written _as if_ everything chronicled therein occurred during the\n  first trip. Events which actually occurred in 1871 and 1872 are\n  reported as happening in 1869. There is no mention of the personnel of\n  the 1871-72 party, nor is there an indication that there even _was_ a\n  second trip. The engravings illustrating the report were made from\n  photographs taken by Beaman and Hillers between 1871 and 1874, but\n  this fact is not noted.\nFor these reasons, Porter\u2019s account contains Powell\u2019s diary of the first\n(1869) trip and many of the missing photographs, plus his own beautiful\ncolor prints. Much more complete and accurate accounts of the 1871\nvoyage than those of Powell, including many of the photographs taken by\nBeaman and Hillers, were given by Dellenbaugh (1902, 1962), who was a\nmember of Powell\u2019s 1871 expedition.\nNumerous river trips were undertaken in the years following Powell\u2019s\npioneering expeditions. The ill-fated Brown-Stanton voyage of 1889-90\nincluded starts on both the Grand and the Green Rivers. (See section on\n\u201cColorado River.\u201d) More successful were Nathan Galloway and William\nRichmond, trappers who left Henrys Fork, Wyo., late in 1896 and reached\nNeedles, Calif., on February 10, 1897 (Kolb, 1927, p. 338). Trappers\nCharles S. Russell, E. R. Monette, and Bert Loper left Green River,\nUtah, in three steel boats on September 20, 1907; Russell and Monette\nreached Needles in one boat in February 1908, but Loper was drowned.\nDellenbaugh\u2019s 1902 book was carried by the Kolb brothers as a guide for\ntheir 1911 trip down the river (Kolb, 1927). In addition to making\nsuperb still photographs, the Kolb brothers took the first moving\npictures in the canyons, and these are still being shown in the Kolb\nStudio on the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. Julius F. Stone and party\ntraversed the canyons in 1909, and his account (1932) also contains\nexcellent photographs. E. C. La Rue, of the U.S. Geological Survey, and\nassistants made two trips down the Green and Colorado Rivers in 1914 and\n1915 and additional trips from 1921 through 1924. Their comprehensive\nhydrographic findings and studies, plus excellent photographs, are given\nin two reports (La Rue, 1916, 1925). The 1916 report also contains (p.\n16-22) a good condensed account of earlier explorations and voyages from\n1531 through 1911, taken in part from Dellenbaugh (1902).\nAs noted earlier, a modern river runners\u2019 guide by Mutschler (1969),\nwhich logs the Green and Colorado Rivers from Green River, Utah, to Lake\nPowell, is now available. River mileages in this log were taken from\ndetailed topographic maps of both rivers prepared under the direction of\nHerron (1917). We will visit only a few notable features of the canyons;\nthe mile-by-mile details for the Green River can be obtained from\nMutschler (1969), and those for the Colorado River, from Baars and\nMolenaar (1971, p. 61-99). Several other references are given below, and\nadditional ones are given by Rabbitt (1969, p. 20-21).\n    [Illustration: BOWKNOT BEND, of Green River, looking east from west\n    end of narrow intervening saddle. Upper photograph was taken by E.\n    O. Beaman on September 10, 1871, during second voyage of Major John\n    Wesley Powell and his party. Lower photograph was taken from same\n    camera station on August 19, 1968, by Hal G. Stephens, U.S.\n    Geological Survey, on expedition led by E. M. Shoemaker to recover\n    camera stations of the 1871 voyage and rephotograph the scenes to\n    record changes during the nearly 100 year interval. Note that almost\n    no changes occurred in the bedrock, or even in the loose rocks, but\n    that considerable change occurred in the vegetation along the river.\n    Although salt cedar (tamarisk) had been introduced into this country\n    from the Mediterranean area long before 1871, it had not yet spread\n    to this area, but the bare islands shown in the earlier photograph\n    are covered by salt cedar in the 1968 photograph. (Fig. 62)]\n    [Illustration: Figure 62, lower image]\nAll travelers down the Green River embarking from Green River, Utah, or\nabove, were impressed with Bowknot Bend (fig. 62), so named by Powell\nand his men (1875, p. 54) near the beginning of Labyrinth Canyon, which\nthey also named for its deeply entrenched meanders. The upper photograph\nin figure 62 was taken by Beaman on September 10, 1871, looking eastward\nfrom the west end of the narrow saddle separating the upper and lower\nreaches of the river; the lower photograph was taken from the same point\non August 19, 1968, by Hal G. Stephens nearly 97 years later. Although\nthere are changes in the vegetation, as described in the caption, there\nare virtually no visible changes in the bedrock. Nevertheless, the\ndistant future will likely see a breakthrough, whereby Green River will\nshorten itself by about 7 miles (Herron, 1917, pl. 15C). It is\ninteresting to note that the vertical cliffs of Wingate Sandstone in and\nwest of Bowknot Bend are only a few hundred feet above the river,\nwhereas, because of the gentle northward dip of the beds and the gentle\nsouthward grade of the rivers, the Wingate cliffs are more than 2,000\nfeet above the two rivers at Grand View Point and Junction Butte, at the\nsouthern tip of Island in the Sky.\nAt the mouth of Horseshoe Canyon, about 3 miles below Bowknot Bend, we\npass a large rincon where the Green River shortened its course by about\n3 miles. Some idea of the rincon\u2019s antiquity is gained from the facts\nthat the river is now some 350 feet lower than at cutoff time, whereas\nBowknot Bend (fig. 62) has shown no visible deepening in 97 years. This\nrincon was not noted by Powell or other early voyagers, seemingly\nbecause they did not happen to climb the banks at this point, but it is\nquite noticeable on modern topographic maps and on aerial photographs.\nThis rincon and Jackson Hole along the Colorado River may be as old as\nlate Tertiary (fig. 80).\nAt a point reported to be 350 yards above the mouth of Hell Roaring\nCanyon, which enters from the east about 3\u00bd miles below the rincon, an\nearly day trapper named Julien left his mark. Stone (1932, p. 69, pl.\n39A) seems to have been the first river runner to find (from a\ndescription given him by a Mr. Wheeler at Green River), record, and\nphotograph the inscription shown in figure 63. Mutschler (1969, p. 31)\nindicated that this inscription is carved on a massive Moenkopi\nsandstone bed about 40 feet above the canyon floor. A similar\ninscription by Julien was found in Cataract Canyon, 31 miles below the\nconfluence, but it is now covered by Lake Powell (Mutschler, 1969, p.\nSome boaters are met by car and taken out to Moab or Green River via the\nHorsethief Trail (fig. 1), just north of the park. The road along the\nriver here continues south for 6\u00bd miles to the mouths of Taylor and\nUpheaval Canyons, where it becomes the White Rim Trail.\n    [Illustration: INSCRIPTION BY JULIEN, near mouth of Hell Roaring\n    Canyon, thought to have been carved by Dennis Julien, an early day\n    trapper. Photograph by K. Sawyer, August 1914, member of expedition\nComing down the Green River, we enter Canyonlands National Park where\nthe Grand-San Juan county line meets the Emery-Wayne county line (fig.\n1), about 2\u00bc miles north of Taylor and Upheaval Canyons. The National\nPark Service had three successful test wells put down in Taylor Canyon,\nand water under artesian pressure was found in the White Rim Sandstone\nat depths of 373 to 482 feet. When funds become available, they hope to\ncomplete one or more of these wells and pump the water up to Island in\nthe Sky, where two dry holes were drilled earlier.\nAbout 5\u00bd miles below Upheaval Canyon is an interesting ruin on a hill in\nthe middle of a large nearly closed loop of the river enclosing Fort\nBottom. This was noted by Dellenbaugh (1902) during Powell\u2019s 1871 trip\nand was described in more detail by Mutschler (1969, p. 33-34):\n  The ruin consists of two, two-story, interconnected, crudely circular\n  towers, and a third separate, completely collapsed tower, built on the\n  summit of the bluff with a commanding view downriver and of Fort\n  Bottom. Other collapsed structures are present on the summit, and a\n  slab-lined cist is present beneath the Moss Back ledge west of the\n  towers. The ruin was built of dry laid masonry and most of the mud\n  plaster on the inside has been washed away, leaving the structure in\n  danger of imminent collapse. Please do not climb the walls!\nFort Bottom also contains a cabin believed to have been used by Butch\nCassidy and the Wild Bunch (Baker, 1971, p. 198).\nAt about the mouth of Millard Canyon, we leave Labyrinth Canyon and\nenter Stillwater Canyon, aptly named by members of the 1869 Powell\nvoyage (Dellenbaugh, 1902, p. 276). The beginning of Stillwater Canyon\nis marked by vertical walls of the White Rim Sandstone. From here\nPowell\u2019s men observed a butte to the southwest thought to resemble a\nfallen cross and named it \u201cButte of the Cross.\u201d Farther downstream they\nrealized they had been looking at two buttes, a small one in front of a\nlarger one, so the feature was renamed \u201cButtes of the Cross.\u201d An aerial\nview of Buttes of the Cross is shown in figure 64.\n    [Illustration: BUTTES OF THE CROSS, looking southwest from the air.\n    Millard Canyon enters Green River in foreground, North Point is in\n    right middle ground, Orange Cliffs are in background, and Henry\n    Mountains form right skyline. White Rim Sandstone forms White Rim\n    near mouth of Millard Canyon and near Anderson Bottom at left\n    middle. (See fig. 65.) Buttes are Wingate Sandstone capped by\n    Kayenta Formation; slopes down to prominent ledge are Chinle\n    Formation, Moss Back Member forming the ledge; steep and gentle\n    slopes between ledge and White Rim are Moenkopi Formation.\n    Photograph by National Park Service. (Fig. 64)]\nAbout 2 miles below the mouth of Millard Canyon, at Anderson Bottom, we\nreach one of the most interesting features on the river\u2014the most recent\nrincon of a major river in the park, if not in the entire canyon\ncountry. Although some rincons are more recent, they are along minor\ntributaries such as Indian Creek (fig. 73). The cutoff at Anderson\nBottom probably took place during the Pleistocene Epoch, whereas most of\nthe others along the main rivers probably occurred during the Tertiary\nPeriod (fig. 80). An aerial view of the Anderson Bottom rincon is shown\nin figure 65, and a sketch of the drainage change is shown in figure 66.\nThis feature was noted and correctly interpreted by Powell and his men,\nwho applied the name Bonita Bend to the sharp new course the river took\nafter the cutoff.\nContinuing through Stillwater Canyon, we pass Turks Head (figs. 23, 24)\nand head for the confluence of the Green River with the Colorado River.\nFigure 67 shows the canyon just west of the confluence. The lowest and\nlargest cliff above the river is the upper member of the Hermosa\nFormation, overlain by the slopes and thin ledges of the Rico Formation.\nThe massive sandstone at the top of the canyon wall is the Cedar Mesa.\nJunction Butte and Grand View Point are on the right skyline.\nWe have already viewed the confluence and Cataract Canyon from the land\nand from the air (figs. 59-61); soon we will see them from the Colorado\nRiver.\n    [Illustration: Petroglyph]\n    [Illustration: ANDERSON BOTTOM RINCON, aerial view looking\n    southeast. Jointed White Rim Sandstone forms the clifflike canyon\n    walls and the mesa in middle of Anderson Bottom. Green River is now\n    about 60 feet lower than former channel at right. Photograph by\n    National Park Service. (Fig. 65)]\n    [Illustration: DRAINAGE CHANGES AT ANDERSON BOTTOM RINCON. River\n    shortened itself about 2 miles by this cutoff. (Fig. 66)]\n    [Illustration: STILLWATER CANYON, of Green River, viewed from a\n    point on the south rim about 1 mile above (west of) confluence with\n    the Colorado River. Upper photograph was taken by E. O. Beaman on\n    September 16, 1871, during second Powell voyage. Lower photograph\n    was taken from same camera station on August 23, 1968, by Hal G.\n    Stephens, U. S. Geological Survey. (See caption for figure 62.) Note\n    that there are no noticeable changes in rocks or bushes away from\n    the river but that sand bars in the early photograph are covered\n    with salt cedar (tamarisk) in the later photograph, as described for\n    [Illustration: Figure 67, lower]\nAs indicated earlier, all but one of the early river voyages began on\nthe Green River. The Grand (Colorado) River above the confluence was\nneglected for some 18 years after Powell\u2019s second voyage, until, in\n1889, Frank M. Brown organized a company for construction of the\nproposed Denver, Colorado Canyon, and Pacific Railway. This railroad was\nto carry coal from mines in Colorado over a \u201cwater-level\u201d line through\nthe canyons of the Colorado River to the Gulf of California some 1,200\nmiles away; from there the coal would presumably be shipped to ports as\nfar north as San Francisco (Dellenbaugh, 1902, p. 343-369). On March 26,\n1889, Brown, president, F. C. Kendrick, chief engineer, and T. P.\nRigney, assistant engineer, drove the first stake for a survey of the\nnew line at Grand Junction, Colo., then Brown left for the East to\nobtain financing, and the other two plus some hired hands took off down\nthe Grand River. After reaching the confluence they towed the boat up\nthe Green River, thus becoming the first to make this trip upstream.\nThey nearly ran out of food, but thanks to the hospitality of some\ncattlemen, they replenished their stock and after about 9 days reached\nthe railroad at Green River, Utah. Brown, who had returned from the\nEast, his newly appointed chief engineer, Robert Brewster Stanton, and\n14 others in six ill-designed boats of cedar, rather than oak, left\nGreen River on May 25, 1889. Against the advice of Major Powell and A.\nH. Thompson, Powell\u2019s topographer on the 1871 trip, they carried no life\npreservers. After many mishaps, Brown and two others were drowned near\nthe head of Marble Canyon, and the ill-fated expedition was temporarily\nhalted. However, the indefatigable Stanton contracted for new boats\nbuilt of oak and, with a reorganized party of 12, left the mouth of the\nFremont (Dirty Devil) River on November 25. After many further mishaps,\nthe party finally reached the Gulf of California on April 26, 1890.\nNeedless to say the proposed railway was not built.\nAlthough the Colorado River enters Canyonlands National Park about 33\nriver miles below Moab, most boaters or floaters begin their voyage\neither at Moab or near Potash, and most travelers of the White Rim Trail\nbegin at Moab, so we will start our trip at Moab. No logs or river\nrunners\u2019 guides are available as yet for the reach from Moab to Potash,\nbut below Potash some details of the geology have been described by\nBaars in Baars and Molenaar (1971, p. 59-87).\nAs noted at the beginning of this chapter, above the confluence both the\nGreen and Colorado Rivers are very crooked, have very low grades, and\nare free from rapids. As with the Green, the soft rocks along the\nColorado have a generally low northward dip that partly explains the\nriver\u2019s gentle grade and its southward flow through increasingly lower\nand older strata. Unlike the Green, however, the gentle dips of the\nstrata in the canyons of the Colorado are interrupted by several gentle\nanticlinal (fig. 14) and synclinal (fig. 26) folds and by at least one\nfault. The most important of these geologic structures and other\nfeatures will be noted as we journey down the river.\nThe first 14 miles from Moab Valley to Potash can be made either by\nriver or by paved Utah Highway 279. This highway leaves U.S. Highway 163\nnear the uranium ore-reduction plant several miles northwest of Moab,\nleaves Moab Valley through The Portal (fig. 68), and follows the west\nbank of the river. A paved secondary road from Moab follows the east\nbank of the river through The Portal and through Kings Bottom, where it\ncrosses the Kings Bottom syncline, to the mouth of Kane Springs Canyon,\nthen becomes a gravel road that ascends this canyon southward to and\nbeyond Hurrah Pass (fig. 30). High above this road north of Kings Bottom\nare petroglyphs and a few cliff dwellings in the vertical cliffs of\nWingate Sandstone. A ranch \u201chouse\u201d at Kings Bottom has been excavated\nentirely into the Wingate cliff. Convenient turnouts have been provided\nat several places along Highway 279 for viewing petroglyphs or other\npoints of interest. Small viewing tubes welded to vertical steel posts\nhaving signs help visitors locate and see the features described.\n    [Illustration: THE PORTAL, in south wall of Moab Valley, through\n    which the Colorado River, Utah Highway 279 (on right), and a paved\n    secondary road (on left) leave the valley to enter the canyons in\n    and above Canyonlands National Park. Rounded remnants on top are\n    Navajo Sandstone; cliffs are Kayenta Formation and Wingate\n    Sandstone; red slopes are Chinle and Moenkopi Formations, and\n    perhaps a little of the Cutler Formation at the base. Light-colored\n    patches at base of slope behind trees on left are contorted\n    intrusions of Paradox Member of Hermosa Formation. (Fig. 68).]\nThe Kings Bottom syncline (fig. 30) southwest of Moab Valley brings the\nNavajo Sandstone down to and slightly below water level, whereas at The\nPortal (fig. 68) the Navajo caps the southwest wall of Moab Valley.\nSeveral anticlines at or near the river from Potash to and beyond the\nconfluence (fig. 1) bring up strata as old as the Rico or the unnamed\nupper member of the Hermosa. Between these extremes, much of the river\u2019s\ncourse lies in strata of the Cutler Formation.\nAbout 7 miles below The Portal, Highway 279 is joined on the right by a\nbranch line of the Denver and Rio Grand Western Railroad completed in\n1962 to haul potash 36 miles from the mine at Potash north to the main\nline at Crescent Junction. The railroad emerges from a tunnel at the\nhead of Bootlegger Canyon. Two natural arches near the mouth of the\ntunnel\u2014Pinto and Little Rainbow Bridge\u2014can be reached by trail. About 3\nmiles farther down the Colorado is a temporary dock from which jet boats\nand the _Canyon King_, a 93-foot 150-passenger stern-wheeler, take off\nfor points downriver during the spring and early summer, when water\ndepth permits. The _Canyon King_ (fig. 69), a small replica of a\nMississippi River stern-wheeler, carries passengers about 30 miles\ndownriver to the foot of Dead Horse Point and returns (Lansford, 1972).\nAbout 12 miles below The Portal we reach Potash\u2014the potash \u201cmine\u201d (fig.\n70) of Texas Gulf, Inc. (See fig. 31 and its associated text for\ndescription of operation.) Travelers down the jeep trail below Potash\npass the evaporation ponds (fig. 71) used to separate the potash from\ncommon salt.\n    [Illustration: THE _CANYON KING_, a 93-foot 150-passenger\n    stern-wheeler which hauls passengers some 30 miles below Potash and\n    returns. Trips run during the spring and early summer, when water\n    depth permits. Photograph by Henry Lansford, Boulder, Colo. (Fig.\n    [Illustration: POTASH MINE OF TEXAS GULF, INC. at Potash, as viewed\n    from a boat. High cliffs on right are Wingate Sandstone capped by\n    Kayenta Formation and underlain by slopes of Chinle and Moenkopi\n    Formations. (Fig. 70)]\n    [Illustration: EVAPORATION PONDS, used to separate potash from\n    common salt, viewed from jeep trail. Black borders are parts of\n    plastic membranes covering bottoms of ponds. Crest of Cane Creek\n    anticline and La Sal Mountains in right background. (Fig. 71)]\nAcross the river east from Potash is Jackson Hole, a large rincon. Since\nabandonment, which shortened the river by about 3\u00bd miles, the river has\ncut its channel nearly 200 feet deeper. It is comparable in size to the\nlarge rincon along Green River below Bowknot Bend (p. 90) but probably\nis somewhat younger. Both rincons may be as old as late Tertiary (fig.\n80). Just below Potash we cross the axis of the huge Cane Creek\nanticline (fig. 31) and also leave Grand County to enter San Juan\nCounty. A mile east of this point, high on the canyon wall, is the\nSchool Section 13 uranium mine, which has yielded considerable ore and\nis expected to resume production sometime during 1973. It can be seen\nfrom the river or the trail, and some of the tailings are visible on the\nleft flank of the anticline in figure 13.\nVoyagers who cross the axis of the Cane Creek anticline may observe on\nthe right-hand (west) bank a protruding oil-well casing, some drill\nbits, and several shacks\u2014all that remain of the Frank Shafer No. 1 oil\ntest started during the winter of 1924-25 and completed by the Midwest\nExploration Co. (Baker, 1933, p. 81). As described by Maxine Newell\n(U.S. Natl. Park Service, written commun., 1970),\n  The well blew in in December 1925, caught fire, and spewed burning oil\n  300 feet into the air. * * * The local Times-Independent newspaper\n  called it \u201cMother Nature\u2019s Christmas Gift to Grand County.\u201d The gusher\n  burned down the rig, a barge of equipment, and it took three months to\n  get it under control. Then it didn\u2019t produce.\nVarious 1925 and 1926 issues of the Moab Times-Independent reported that\ndespite many efforts to plug the well, it continued to flow from 1,000\nto several thousand barrels of oil per day for 6 months or more, all of\nwhich floated down the river. The last blowout occurred in 1937, after\nwhich the well was plugged with an additional 180 tons of cement.\nMrs. Newell added,\n  The stories told of the early-day exploration are endless and\n  delightful. Equipment and supplies were barged down the Colorado River\n  by the old Moab Garage Company; in winter months materials were\n  carried by team and sled over the river ice. They would take a couple\n  of rig timbers and pile a lot of lumber on them (they could take\n  10,000 feet), then we\u2019d give them a start with a crowbar and the mules\n  would trot all the way downhill to the well. When they\u2019d get there\n  they had a little trouble stopping sometimes; they would turn into the\n  bank, unload, then put the double trees on one mule, ride the other,\n  and head back for a new load of rig lumber.\nThe evaporation ponds shown in figures 31 and 71 are in Shafer Basin, a\nsynclinal basin separating the Cane Creek anticline and Shafer dome. We\ncross the axis of Shafer Basin about 2 miles below the county line.\nFurther downstream is Shafer dome, a closed anticlinal bulge just beyond\nthe W-shaped bend in the river as shown in figure 29. Parts of the dome\nalso show up in the lower right of figure 13 and the lower left of\nfigure 15. From almost anywhere in the Goose Neck, the sharp bend of the\nriver shown in figure 15, we get an excellent view of Dead Horse Point\nsome 2,000 feet above.\nRobert R. Norman (oral commun. Feb. 27, 1973) described to me a small\npetrified forest\u2014which he said resembles a log jam\u2014in the eastern part\nof the Shafer dome, at mileage 39 (Baars and Molenaar, 1971, p. 65),\njust north of this point about half way between the river and the jeep\ntrail below Dead Horse Point. He estimated that there probably are 20 to\n30 logs, some of which are as large as 18 inches in diameter and more\nthan 20 feet long, and also described a stump about 3 feet in diameter.\nThey occur in red beds at about the middle of the Rico Formation, hence\ncould be either Pennsylvanian or Permian in age (figs. 9, 80). The\noriginal wood has been replaced by silica (SiO\u2082) and stained a dark\nreddish brown, as shown in figure 72.\nMr. Norman and his brother also discovered many teeth of a primitive\nsharklike fish in the Rico Formation at the same general locality as the\npetrified wood and also in the Rico on the Cane Creek anticline. I\nsubmitted two of the teeth to Dr. David H. Dunkle, curator of the\nCleveland Museum of Natural History, who reported them to be \u201cone tooth\nof the cochliodont \u2018shark\u2019 _Deltodus_, and one tooth of the petalodont\n\u2018shark\u2019 _Petalodus_\u201d (written commun., May 22, 1973).\nAbout 4 miles below the Goose Neck, we enter Canyonlands National Park\nand remain in the park almost to the north end of Lake Powell.\nAbout 6\u00bd miles into the park, at the north end of a bend much like the\nGoose Neck, is the mouth of Lathrop Canyon, where many boaters stop for\nlunch and where a side road connects with the White Rim Trail (fig. 1).\nSix and one half miles below Lathrop Canyon is the mouth of Rustler\nCanyon, which is joined near its mouth by Indian Creek\u2014the creek\nfollowed by the highway leading to The Needles from U.S. 163. Within an\nairline distance of only 3 miles, the lower reach of Indian Creek, an\nintermittent stream, flows past four small rincons, three of which (fig.\n73) are within an airline distance of only 0.8 mile. The stream has cut\nits new channel into the red sandstones and shales of the Cutler\nFormation only 15 to 20 feet deeper than the abandoned ones in the two\nrincons at the left in figure 73 and only about 25 feet deeper than the\none on the right. These figures suggest, at least to me, that these\ncutoffs probably occurred sometime during the Holocene Epoch, or age of\nman\u2014that is, probably within the last 10,000 years (fig. 80). A detailed\nstudy of these rincons might change this estimate, particularly if, say,\nburied driftwood or other carbonaceous material could be found for an\nage determination by the radiocarbon method.\n    [Illustration: PETRIFIED LOG, near middle of Rico Formation, about 1\n    mile southeast of Dead Horse Point. Log is estimated to be about 18\n    inches in diameter. Photograph by Robert R. Norman. (Fig. 72)]\n    [Illustration: RELATIVELY RECENT RINCONS ALONG INDIAN CREEK, about\n    3\u00bd miles above mouth and about 2 miles east of Canyonlands National\n    Park. Above, stereoscopic pair of aerial photographs by U.S.\n    Geological Survey; below, sketch showing drainage changes. The\n    stereoscopic pair can be viewed without optical aids by those\n    accustomed to this procedure, or by use of a simple double-lens\n    stereoscope. (Fig. 73)]\n    [Illustration: Figure 73, diagram]\n    [Illustration: THE LOOP, of Colorado River, about 5 miles northeast\n    of the confluence. Lower canyon walls are unnamed upper member of\n    Hermosa Formation overlain by slopes of the Rico Formation. Jointed\n    sandy ledges at top become sandier to south, where they comprise the\n    Cedar Mesa Sandstone. Aerial photograph by U.S. Geological Survey.\nAbout 5 miles below the mouth of Rustler Canyon and Indian Creek, and\nalso about 5 miles above the confluence, is The Loop\u2014an even sharper and\nmore symmetrical figure eight than Bowknot Bend of the Green River (fig.\n62). An aerial view of The Loop (fig. 74) shows that the channels on the\nsouth loop are only about 500 feet apart and that those on the north\nloop are only about 1,700 feet apart. At the narrowest places, both\nsaddles are considerably eroded\u2014the southern one is only about 150 feet\nabove the river, but the northern one is still about 350 feet above.\nErosion of both saddles has been hastened by the facts that the axis of\nthe Meander anticline (see p. 108) passes through each saddle and that\nan interesting reverse fault (fig. 75) passes through the lower and\nthinner southern saddle. The differences between reverse and normal\nfaults are shown by comparing figures 56 and 76. It seems inevitable\nthat some day the small saddle will be cut through by the Colorado\nRiver, and a new rincon will result. Eventually, the other loop also\nprobably will be abandoned. As one of my colleagues remarked, how\nwonderful it would seem, to be present at the proper moment to witness\nsuch an event, particularly if one had a time-lapse movie camera to\nrecord it for posterity!\n    [Illustration: REVERSE FAULT in southern saddle of The Loop, looking\n    northwest from boat in river. Apparent angle of dip is 12\u00b0 below\n    horizontal. Rocks at left, above fault plane, have been shoved about\n    10 feet past and over those on right. Curving of dark bed near\n    middle of fault plane is called \u201cdrag.\u201d (See fig. 76.) Rocks are\n    unnamed upper member of Hermosa Formation. (Fig. 75)]\n    [Illustration: CUTAWAY VIEW OF REVERSE FAULT, resulting from\n    horizontal compression, which caused a shortening of earth\u2019s crust.\n    Note \u201cdrag\u201d of beds on each side of fault plane. Low-angle reverse\n    faults, also called thrust faults, may have displacements ranging\n    from a few feet to many miles. From Hansen (1969, p. 116). (Fig.\nAbout a mile and a half below the south saddle of The Loop we meet the\nmouth of Salt Creek, which drains a large part of the Needles district.\nFigure 77 was taken in Salt Creek canyon about 2 airline miles above the\nmouth looking southeast toward Six-Shooter Peaks and Shay Mountain,\nnorthernmost of the Abajo Mountains, on the horizon.\nA mile and a half above the confluence is The Slide, a jumbled mass of\nangular blocks of rock that fell from the northwest canyon wall and\noriginally probably extended all the way to the southeast bank of the\nriver. As shown in figure 78, it still extends nearly across the river,\nleaving only a narrow deep chute along the southeast bank. Just after\nthe photograph was taken, we hit rough fast water in the chute, with\nwaves about 2 feet high. At higher stages of the river, progressively\nmore of The Slide is covered by water, and there is less tendency for\nwaves to form. The date of this landslide is not known, but it is shown\non a map by Herron (1917, pl. 22A) made prior to 1917 and may well have\noccurred during prehistoric times.\nSoon we reach the confluence of the Green and Colorado Rivers (figs. 59,\n60). This important junction of two mighty rivers was noted by all\nprevious voyagers, but their impressions of it differed considerably.\nPowell (1875, p. 56) remarked:\n  These streams unite in solemn depths, more than one thousand two\n  hundred feet below the general surface of the country. The walls of\n  the lower end of Stillwater Ca\u00f1on are very beautifully curved [see\n  fig. 67], as the river sweeps in its meandering course. The lower end\n  of the ca\u00f1on through which the Grand comes down, is also regular, but\n  much more direct, and we look up this stream, and out into the country\n  beyond, and obtain glimpses of snow clad peaks, the summits of a group\n  of mountains known as the Sierra La Sal [La Sal Mountains]. Down the\n  Colorado, the ca\u00f1on walls are much broken.\nDellenbaugh (1902, p. 277) gave a fuller description but concluded: \u201cIn\nevery way the Junction is a desolate place\u201d\u2014an appraisal with which I\ndisagree. The most colorful account I have read is that of Captain\nFrancis Marion Bishop, a member of Powell\u2019s 1871 expedition, who\nrecorded in his journal for September 15, 1871 (1947, p. 202):\n  Well, we are at last, after many days of toil and labor, here at the\n  confluence of the two great arteries of this great mountain desert. No\n  more shall our frail boats dash through thy turbid waters, Old Green,\n  and no more shall we press on to see the dark flood from the peaks and\n  parks of Colorado. Grand and Green here sink to thy rest, and from thy\n  grave the _Colorado de Grande_ shall flow on forever, and on thy bosom\n  henceforth will we battle with rock and wave. One can hardly tell\n  which is the largest of the two rivers. Neither seems to flow into the\n  other, but there seems to be a blending of both, and from their union\n  rolls the Colorado River.\n    [Illustration: SALT CREEK CANYON, looking southeast from point on\n    rim 2 miles above mouth. Lower ledges are limestones in unnamed\n    upper member of Hermosa Formation; slope and upper cliff are Rico\n    Formation capped by remnants of Cedar Mesa Sandstone. Horizon shows\n    Six-Shooter Peaks in center and Shay Mountain, northernmost of Abajo\n    Mountains, at right. Photograph by E. N. Hinrichs. (Fig. 77)]\n    [Illustration: THE SLIDE, which partly blocks the Colorado River\n    about 1\u00bd miles above the confluence. View downstream. (Fig. 78).]\nCataract Canyon heads at the confluence, but the rapids do not appear\nuntil we leave Spanish Bottom some 3\u00bd miles below. Between The Loop and\nSpanish Bottom, the Colorado River follows closely the axis of an\nanticline. Along this reach the rock strata dip downward away from the\nriver, as shown in figure 61. This fold was noted by Powell and some of\nhis men, and Bishop (1947, p. 203) reported in his journal for September\n  He [Steward] is at a loss how to account for the folded appearance of\n  the strata here. But doubtless will find some explanation. Says the\n  dip recedes from the river ca\u00f1on, and thinks it is a fissure. Maj.\n  [Powell] thinks it is owing to an upheaval, and that the beds next to\n  the river have broken up from the mass, etc., etc.\nForty-four years later Harrison (1927) named this structure the Meander\nanticline and concluded that the weight of the rocks on each side of the\nriver had squeezed underlying beds of salt in the Paradox Member of the\nHermosa Formation and caused them to move upward along the river, where\nthe confining strata had been removed by erosion. Harrison\u2019s theory was\naccepted by Baker (1933) and most later workers in the area. Thus we\nhave what may be termed an erosional anticline, whose axis, or crest,\nfollows the river. Erosional anticlines also occur elsewhere, as along\nthe Eagle and Roaring Fork valleys of central Colorado. Mutschler and\nHite (1969) suggested that this zone of weakness in Canyonlands overlies\nand follows a break in the hard Precambrian (fig. 80) rocks that\nunderlie the area at great depth. At any rate, Powell was on the right\ntrack even though he was totally unaware of the underlying salt or the\ndeep-seated fault.\nSmooth water continues from the confluence to Spanish Bottom, where the\nOld Spanish Trail comes down to the river from the west and continues up\nLower Red Lake Canyon to the east. As mentioned earlier, this is about\nthe south end of the Meander anticline, and an intruded chunk of the\nParadox Member, mostly gypsum, occupies part of the mouth of Lower Red\nLake Canyon, as shown in figure 79.\nThe remaining 10 miles or so of Cataract Canyon within Canyonlands\nNational Park contains many rapids and should be traversed only under\nthe leadership of experienced river guides. If and when Lake Powell\nreaches its maximum level, it will extend to within about a mile of the\npark, but at present (1973) it heads near the mouth of Gypsum Canyon,\nabout 5 miles below the park.\n    [Illustration: GYPSUM PLUG of Paradox Member, intruded along south\n    end of Meander anticline at mouth of Lower Red Lake Canyon. Common\n    salt has been removed by solution, leaving residue of gypsum and\n    some shale. Photograph by Donald L. Baars. (Fig. 79)]\n    [Illustration: Petroglyph]\n    [Illustration: GEOLOGIC TIME SPIRAL, showing the sequence, names,\n    and ages of the geologic eras, periods, and epochs, and the\n    evolution of plant and animal life on land and in the sea. The\n    primitive animals that evolved in the sea during the vast\n    Precambrian Era left few traces in the rocks because they had not\n    developed hard parts such as shells, but hard shells or skeletal\n    parts became abundant during and after the Paleozoic Era. (Fig. 80)]\nThe Earth is very old\u2014four and a half billion years or more according to\nrecent estimates. Most of the evidence for an ancient Earth is contained\nin the rocks that form the Earth\u2019s crust. The rock layers\nthemselves\u2014like pages in a long and complicated History\u2014record the\nsurface-shaping events of the past, and buried within them are traces of\nlife\u2014the plants and animals that evolved from organic structures that\nexisted perhaps three billion years ago.\nAlso contained in rocks once molten are radioactive elements whose\nisotopes provide earth scientists with an atomic clock. Within these\nrocks, \u201cparent\u201d isotopes decay at a predictable rate to form \u201cdaughter\u201d\nisotopes. By determining the relative amounts of parent and daughter\nisotopes, the age of these rocks can be calculated.\nThus the results of studies of rock layers (stratigraphy), and of the\nprogressive development of life (paleontology), coupled with the ages of\ncertain rocks as measured by atomic clocks (geochronology), attest to a\nvery old Earth!\n                      Summary of Geologic History\nHaving finished our geologic ramble through Canyonlands National Park,\nlet us see how this pile of eroded rocks fit into the bigger scheme of\nthings\u2014the geologic age and events of the earth as a whole, as depicted\nin figure 80. As shown in figure 9, the rock strata still preserved in\nthe park range in age from Pennsylvanian to Jurassic, or from about 300\nto 175 million years ago, a span of about 125 million years. This seems\nan incredibly long time, until you note that the earth is some 4.5\nbillion years old and that our rock pile is but one twenty-fifth, or 4\npercent, of the age of the earth as a whole. Thus, in figure 80 the\nrocks exposed in the park occupy only about the left-hand third of the\ntop whorl of the spiral.\nBut this is not the whole story. As indicated earlier, about 10,000 feet\nof younger Mesozoic and Tertiary rocks that once covered the area have\nbeen carried away by erosion, and if we include these, the span is\nincreased to about 250 million years, or nearly a full whorl of the\nspiral.\nDeep tests for oil and gas tell us that much older rocks underlie the\narea, and we have seen that some of these rocks played a part in shaping\nthe park we see today\u2014note the breaks in the deep-seated Precambrian\nrocks and the salt in the Paradox Member. In addition to the Precambrian\nigneous and metamorphic rocks, there are about 2,000 feet of Paleozoic\nsedimentary rocks older than the Pennsylvanian Paradox Member. Most of\nthese sedimentary rocks were laid down in ancient seas during Cambrian,\nOrdovician, Devonian, Mississippian, and Pennsylvanian times (fig. 80).\nThere are some gaps in the rock record caused by temporary emergence of\nthe land above sea level and erosion of the land surface before the land\nagain subsided below sea level so that deposition could resume. Silurian\nrocks are absent altogether, presumably because here the Silurian Period\nwas dominated by erosion rather than deposition.\nWhile Pennsylvanian and Permian sediments were being deposited in and\nsouthwest of the park, a large area to the northeast\u2014called by\ngeologists the Uncompahgre highland, because it occupied the same\ngeneral area as the present Uncompahgre Plateau\u2014rose slowly above sea\nlevel. Whatever Paleozoic rocks there were on this rising land, plus\npart of the underlying Precambrian rocks, were eroded and carried by\nstreams into deep basins to the northeast and southwest. Thus, while\nmostly marine or nearshore deposits were being laid down in and near the\npark, thousands of feet of red beds were being laid down by streams in\nan area between the park and the Uncompahgre Plateau. During part of\nMiddle Pennsylvanian time a large area including the park and known as\nthe Paradox Basin was alternately connected to or cut off from the sea,\nso the water evaporated during cutoff periods and was replenished during\nperiods when connection with the sea resumed. In this huge evaporation\nbasin were deposited the layers of salt and gypsum plus some potash\nsalts and shale that now make up the Paradox Member.\nThe old Uncompahgre highland continued to shed debris into the bordering\nbasins until Triassic time, when it began to acquire a veneer of red\nsandstone and siltstone of the Chinle Formation (Lohman, 1965). The area\nremained above sea level during the Triassic Period and most if not all\nthe Jurassic Period, although the Jurassic Carmel Formation was laid\ndown in a sea that lay just to the west.\nLate in the Cretaceous Period a large part of central and southeastern\nUnited States, including the eastern half of Utah, sank beneath the sea,\nas shown in figure 81, and received thousands of feet of mud, silt, and\nsome sand that later compacted into the Mancos Shale. This formation and\nall the younger and some older strata have long since been eroded from\nthe park area but are present in adjacent areas, such as the lower\nslopes of the Book Cliffs north of Green River, Crescent Junction, and\nCisco (fig. 7).\nThe land rose above the sea at about the close of the Cretaceous and has\nremained above ever since, although inland basins and lakes received\nsediment during parts of the Tertiary Period. Compressive forces in the\nearth\u2019s crust produced some gentle folding of the strata at the close of\nthe Cretaceous, but more pronounced folding and some faulting occurred\nduring the Eocene Epoch, when most of the Rocky Mountains took form.\nDuring the Miocene Epoch molten igneous rock welled up into the strata\nto form the cores of the nearby La Sal, Abajo, and Henry Mountains (fig.\n7). Additional uplift and some folding occurred in the Pliocene and\nPleistocene Epochs.\n    [Illustration: LATE CRETACEOUS SEA, which covered parts of central\n    and southeastern United States. (Fig. 81)]\nMuch of the course of the Colorado River was established in the Miocene\nEpoch, with some additional adjustments in the late Pliocene and early\nPleistocene Epochs (Hunt, 1969, p. 67). Erosion during much of the\nTertiary Period and all of the Quaternary Period, combined with some\nsagging and breaking of the crust brought on by solution and lateral\nsqueezing of salt beds beneath The Needles, The Grabens, and the Meander\nanticline, produced the landscape as we now see it.\nThe Precambrian rocks beneath the area are about 1.5 billion years old,\nso an enormous span of time is represented by the rocks and events in\nand beneath Canyonlands National Park.\nIf we consider the geologic formations that make up the Colorado\nPlateau\u2014including national parks (N.P.), national monuments (N.M.)\n(excluding small historical or archeological ones), Monument Valley, San\nRafael Swell, and Glen Canyon National Recreation Area\u2014certain\nformations or groups of formations play starring roles in some parks or\nmonuments, some play supporting roles, and in a few places the entire\ncast of rocks gets about equal billing. Let us compare them and see how\nand where they fit into the geologic time spiral (fig. 80).\nDinosaur N. M., with exposed rocks ranging in age from Precambrian to\nCretaceous, represents the greatest time span (nearly 2 billion years)\nbut has one unit\u2014the Jurassic Morrison Formation\u2014in the starring role,\nfor this unit contains the many dinosaur fossils that give the monument\nits name and fame; several older units have supporting roles. Grand\nCanyon N. P. and N. M. are next, with rocks from Precambrian through\nPermian (excluding the Quaternary lava flows in the N. M.), but here\nthere is truly a team effort, for the entire cast gets about equal\nbilling. Canyonlands N. P. stands third in size of cast, with rocks\nranging from Pennsylvanian to Jurassic, but we would have to give top\nbilling to the Permian Cedar Mesa Sandstone Member of the Cutler\nFormation, from which The Needles, The Grabens, and most of the arches\nwere sculptured; the Triassic Wingate Sandstone and Kayenta Formation\nget second billing for their roles in forming and preserving Island in\nthe Sky and other high mesas.\nNow let us consider those with only one or few players in the cast,\nbeginning at the bottom of the time spiral. Black Canyon of the Gunnison\nN. M., cut entirely in rocks of early Precambrian age (except for only a\nveneer of much younger rocks), obviously has but one star in its cast.\nColorado N. M. contains rocks ranging from Precambrian to\nCretaceous\u2014equal to Dinosaur in this respect\u2014but it is unique in that\nall the rocks of the long Paleozoic Era and some others are missing from\nthe cast; of those that remain, the Triassic Wingate and Kayenta are the\nstars, with strong support from the Jurassic Entrada Sandstone.\nAll the bridges in Natural Bridges N. M. were carved from the Permian\nCedar Mesa Sandstone, also the star in Canyonlands N. P. In Canyon de\nChelly (pronounced \u201cdee shay\u201d) N. M. and Monument Valley (neither N. P.\nnor N. M., as it is owned and administered by the Navajo Tribe), the de\nChelly Sandstone Member of the Cutler Formation\u2014a Permian member younger\nthan the Cedar Mesa\u2014plays the starring role.\nWupatki N. M., near Flagstaff, Ariz., stars the Triassic Moenkopi\nFormation. Petrified Forest N. P. (which now includes part of the\nPainted Desert) also has but one star\u2014the Triassic Chinle Formation,\nwith its many petrified logs and stumps of ancient trees. The\nTriassic-Jurassic Glen Canyon Group (fig. 9), which includes the\nTriassic Wingate Sandstone and Kayenta Formation and the\nTriassic-Jurassic Navajo Sandstone, receives top billing in recently\nenlarged Capitol Reef N. P., but the Triassic Moenkopi and Chinle\nFormations enjoy supporting roles.\nThe Triassic-Jurassic Navajo Sandstone, erosional remnants of which are\nfound on the high mesas of Canyonlands N. P., is the undisputed star of\nZion N. P., Rainbow Bridge N. M., and Glen Canyon National Recreation\nArea, despite the fact that the latter is the type locality of the\nentire Glen Canyon Group (fig. 9). The Navajo also forms the impressive\nreef at the eastern edge of the beautiful San Rafael Swell (a dome, or\nclosed anticline, fig. 7), now crossed by Highway I-70 between Green\nRiver and Fremont Junction, Utah.\nAs we journey upward in the time spiral (fig. 80), we come to the\nJurassic Entrada Sandstone, which stars in Arches N. P., with help from\nthe underlying Navajo Sandstone and a supporting cast of both older and\nyounger rocks. The Entrada also forms the grotesque erosional forms\ncalled \u201choodoos and goblins\u201d in Goblin Valley State Park, north of\nHanksville, Utah.\nMoving ever upward in the spiral, we come to the Cretaceous\u2014the age of\nthe starring Mesaverde Group, whose caves in Mesa Verde N. P. now house\nbeautifully preserved ruins once occupied by the Anasazi, the same\nancient people who once dwelt in Canyonlands N. P.\nThis brings us up to the Tertiary Period, during the early part of which\nthe pink limestones and shales of the Paleocene and Eocene Wasatch\nFormation were laid down in inland basins. Beautifully sculptured\ncliffs, pinnacles, and caves of the Wasatch star in Bryce Canyon N. P.\nand nearby Cedar Breaks N. M. This concludes our climb up the time\nspiral, except for Quaternary volcanoes and some older volcanic features\nat Sunset Crater N. M., near Flagstaff, Ariz.\nThus, one way or another, many geologic units that formed during the\nlast couple of billion years have performed on the stage of the Colorado\nPlateau and, hamlike, still lurk in the wings eagerly awaiting your\napplause to recall them to the footlights. Don\u2019t let them down\u2014visit and\nenjoy the national parks and monuments of the Plateau, for they probably\nare the greatest collection of scenic wonderlands in the world.\n    [Illustration: Dinosaur]\nAdditional Reading\nMany reports covering various aspects of the area have been cited in the\ntext by author and year, and these plus a few additional ones are listed\nbelow under \u201cSelected References.\u201d A few of general or special interest\nshould be mentioned, however.\nBetween 1926 and 1931 virtually the entire area now included in the park\nwas mapped geologically in three classic reports\u2014two by Baker (1933,\n1946) and one by McKnight (1940). These men and their field assistants\nmapped the area by use of the plane table and telescopic alidade without\nbenefit of modern topographic maps or aerial photographs, except for\ntopographic maps of narrow stretches along the Green and Colorado Rivers\nmade under the direction of Herron (1917). Only small sections could be\nreached by automobile, so nearly all the area was traversed using horses\nor by hiking.\nDuring the uranium boom of the early and middle 1950\u2019s, the U.S.\nGeological Survey remapped the topography of most of the area at a scale\nof 1:24,000 and also remapped the geology of much of the area at this\nsame scale. The southern part of the Needles district was mapped by\nLewis and Campbell (1965). The geologic mapping west of the Green and\nColorado Rivers was done by F. A. McKeown, P. P. Orkild, C. C. Hawley,\nand others; that east of the Colorado River and a little between the two\nrivers was done by E. N. Hinrichs and others. Only four of the geologic\nmaps have been published (Hinrichs and others, 1967, 1968, 1971a, b),\nbut all this work and the older reports were used by Williams (1964) in\ncompiling the 1:250,000-scale geologic map of the Moab quadrangle, by\nWilliams and Hackman (1971) in compiling a similar map of the Salina\nquadrangle, and by Haynes, Vogel, and Wyant (1972) in compiling a\nsimilar map of the Cortez quadrangle. These three maps show the geology\nof the entire park.\nThe 1970 issue of the Naturalist in which the cited papers by Jennings,\nNewell, and Stokes appear also contains other papers on Canyonlands\nNational Park, including one on the plants.\nSeveral early reports on the Green and Colorado Rivers and their\npotential utilization contain a wealth of information and many fine\nphotographs\u2014two reports on the Colorado River by La Rue (1916, 1925),\none on the Green River by Wooley (1930), and one on the upper Colorado\nRiver (above the confluence) by Follansbee (1929).\nFor those who wish to learn more about the science of geology, I suggest\nthe textbook by Gilluly, Waters, and Woodford (1968).\nMy deep appreciation goes to Bates Wilson, former superintendent of\nCanyonlands National Park, and to Joe Carithers, former assistant\nsuperintendent, for their splendid cooperation in supplying data and\ninformation and for making available four-wheel-drive vehicles. I also\nwish to thank Chuck Budge, former chief ranger; Dave May, assistant\nchief ranger; Joe Miller, former maintenance engineer; Bob Kerr, new\nsuperintendent; Maxine Newell, park historian and member of the staff at\nArches National Park; Jerry Banta, park ranger at Arches; and Dave\nMinor, district ranger for the Needles district, for their many favors.\nI am grateful to several colleagues and friends for the loan of\nphotographs, for geologic help and data, and for reviewing this report.\nI am also deeply grateful to my wife Ruth for accompanying me on all the\nfield work and for her help and encouragement.\n                          Selected references\n  Baars, D. L., and Molenaar, C. M., 1971, Geology of Canyonlands and\n          Cataract Canyon: [Durango, Colo.] Four Corners Geol. Soc., 6th\n          Field Conf., Cataract Canyon River exped., 99 p.\n  Baker, A. A., 1933, Geology and oil possibilities of the Moab\n          district, Grand and San Juan Counties, Utah: U.S. Geol. Survey\n  ____ 1946, Geology of the Green River Desert-Cataract Canyon region,\n          Emery, Wayne, and Garfield Counties, Utah: U.S. Geol. Survey\n  Baker, Pearl, 1971, The Wild Bunch at Robbers Roost: New York,\n          Toronto, London, Abelard-Schuman, 224 p.\n  Bishop, Captain Francis Marion, 1947, Bishop\u2019s Journal edited by\n          Charles Kelley, _in_ Biographical sketches and original\n          documents of the second Powell expedition of 1871-72: Utah\n          State Hist. Soc., Utah Hist. Quart., v. 15, p. 159-238.\n  Crampton, C. G., 1964, Standing up country, the canyon lands of Utah\n          and Arizona: New York, Alfred A. Knopf (Utah Univ. Press, in\n          association with Amon Carter Mus. Western Art), 191 p.\n  Dellenbaugh, F. S., 1902, The romance of the Colorado River: New York,\n          G. P. Putnam\u2019s Sons, 399 p. [reprinted 1962 by Rio Grande\n          Press, Chicago, III.]\n  ____ 1962, A canyon voyage: The narrative of the second Powell\n          Expedition down the Green-Colorado River from Wyoming, and the\n          explorations on land, in the years 1871 and 1872: New Haven\n          and London, Yale Univ. Press, Foreword by William H.\n  Everhart, W. C., 1972, The National Park Service, Praeger Library of\n          U.S. Government Departments and Agencies No. 13: New York,\n          London, Praeger Publishers, Inc., 276 p.\n  Findley, Rowe, 1971. Canyonlands\u2014realm of rock and the far horizon:\n  Follansbee, Robert, 1929, Upper Colorado River and its utilization:\n          U.S. Geol. Survey Water-Supply Paper 617, 394 p.\n  Gilluly, James, Waters, A. C., and Woodford, A. O., 1968, Principles\n          of geology [3d ed.]: San Francisco and London, W. H. Freeman\n  Hansen, W. R., 1969, The geologic story of the Uinta Mountains [with\n          graphics by John R. Stacy]: U.S. Geol. Survey Bull. 1291,\n  Harrison, T. S., 1927, Colorado-Utah salt domes: Am. Assoc. Petroleum\n  Haynes, D. D., Vogel, J. D., and Wyant, D. G., 1972, Geology,\n          structure, and uranium deposits of the Cortez quadrangle,\n          Colorado and Utah: U.S. Geol. Survey Misc. Geol. Inv. Map\n  Herron, W. H., 1917, Profile surveys in the Colorado River basin in\n          Wyoming, Utah, Colorado, and New Mexico: U.S. Geol. Survey\n          Water-Supply Paper 396, 6 p., 43 pl.\n  Hinrichs, E. N., and others, 1967, Geologic map of the northwest\n          quarter of the Hatch Point quadrangle, San Juan County, Utah:\n          U.S. Geol. Survey Misc. Geol. Inv. Map I-513.\n  ____ 1968, Geologic map of the northeast quarter of the Hatch Point\n          quadrangle, San Juan County, Utah: U.S. Geol. Survey Misc.\n  ____ 1971a, Geologic map of the southeast quarter of the Hatch Point\n          quadrangle, San Juan County, Utah: U.S. Geol. Survey Misc.\n  ____ 1971b, Geologic map of the southwest quarter of the Hatch Point\n          quadrangle, San Juan County, Utah: U.S. Geol. Survey Misc.\n  Hite, R. J., 1968, Salt deposits of the Paradox Basin, southeast Utah\n          and southwest Colorado, _in_ Mattox, R. B., ed., Saline\n          deposits: Geol. Soc. America Spec. Paper 88, p. 319-330.\n  Hunt, Alice, 1956, Archeology of southeastern Utah, _in_ Geology and\n          economic deposits of east-central Utah: Intermountain Assoc.\n          Petroleum Geologists, 7th Ann. Field Conf., Salt Lake City,\n  Hunt, C. B., 1969, Geologic history of the Colorado River, _in_ The\n          Colorado River region, and John Wesley Powell: U.S. Geol.\n  Jennings, J. D., 1970, Canyonlands\u2014aborigines: Naturalist, v. 21,\n  Joesting, H. R., and Plouff, Donald, 1958, Geophysical studies of the\n          Upheaval Dome area, San Juan County, Utah: Intermountain\n          Assoc. Petroleum Geologists, 9th Ann. Field Conf., Salt Lake\n  Joesting, H. R., Case, J. E., and Plouff, Donald, 1966, Regional\n          geophysical investigations of the Moab-Needles area, Utah:\n          U.S. Geol. Survey Prof. Paper 516-C, 21 p.\n  Kolb, E. L., 1927, Through the Grand Canyon from Wyoming to Mexico [2d\n          ed.]: New York, Macmillan, 344 p.\n  Lansford, Henry, 1972, Boatman in the desert, a passenger-carrying\n          stern-wheeler in canyon country: Empire [magazine of the\n  La Rue, E. C., 1916, Colorado River and its utilization: U.S. Geol.\n          Survey Water-Supply Paper 395, 231 p.\n  ____ 1925, Water power and flood control of Colorado River below Green\n          River, Utah, with a forward by Hubert Work, Secretary of the\n          Interior, p. 1-100. [App. A, A report on water supply, by E.\n          C. La Rue and G. F. Holbrook, p. 101-123; app. B, A geologic\n          report on the inner gorge of the Grand Canyon of Colorado\n          River, by R. C. Moore, p. 125-171]: U.S. Geol. Survey\n          Water-Supply Paper 556, 176 p.\n  Lewis, R. Q., and Campbell, R. H., 1965, Geology and uranium deposits\n          of Elk Ridge and vicinity, San Juan County, Utah: U.S. Geol.\n          Survey Prof. Paper 474-B, 69 p.\n  Lohman, S. W., 1965, The geologic story of Colorado National Monument:\n          Colo. and Black Canyon Nat. History Assoc., 56 p.\n  McKnight, E. T., 1940, Geology of area between Green and Colorado\n          Rivers, Grand and San Juan Counties, Utah: U.S. Geol. Survey\n  Mattox, R. B., 1968, Upheaval Dome, a possible salt dome in the\n          Paradox Basin, Utah, _in_ Mattox, R. B., ed., Saline deposits:\n          Geol. Soc. America Spec. Paper 88, p. 331-347.\n  Mutschler, F. E., 1969, Labyrinth, Stillwater, and Cataract Canyons:\n          River runners\u2019 guide to the canyons of the Green and Colorado\n          Rivers, with emphasis on geologic features, volume II: Denver,\n          Colo., Powell Soc., Ltd., 79 p.\n  Mutschler, F. E., and Hite, R. J., 1969, Origin of the Meander\n          anticline, Cataract Canyon, Utah, and basement fault control\n          of Colorado River drainage [abs.]: Geol. Soc. America, Rocky\n          Mtn. Sec., 22nd Ann. Mtg., Salt Lake City, Utah, 1969, Abs.\n  Newberry, J. S., 1861, Geological report, _in_ Ives, J. C., Report\n          upon the Colorado River of the West: U.S. 36th Cong. 1st\n  Newell, Maxine, 1970, Canyonlands\u2014modern history: Naturalist, v. 21,\n  Newman, W. L., 1970, Geologic time: U.S. Geol. Survey, 20 p.\n  Porter, Elliot, 1969, Down the Colorado, John Wesley Powell diary of\n          the first trip through the Grand Canyon 1869: New York, E. P.\n  Powell, J. W., 1875, Exploration of the Colorado River of the West and\n          its tributaries: Washington, D.C., 291 p.\n  Rabbitt, M. C., 1969, John Wesley Powell: pioneer statesman of federal\n          science, _in_ The Colorado River region and John Wesley\n          Powell: U.S. Geol. Survey Prof. Paper 669, p. 1-21.\n  Sharrock, F. W., 1966, An archeological survey of Canyonlands National\n          Park: Utah Univ., Dept. Anthropology, Anthropol. Papers, Misc.\n  Stacy, J. R., 1962, Shortcut method for the preparation of\n          shaded-relief illustrations, _in_ Short papers in geology,\n          hydrology, and topography: U.S. Geol. Survey Prof. Paper\n  Stokes, W. L., 1970, Canyonlands\u2014geology: Naturalist, v. 21, Summer,\n  Stone, J. F., 1932, Canyon country\u2014The romance of a drop of water and\n          a grain of sand: New York, London, G. P. Putnam\u2019s Sons, 442 p.\n  U.S. Geol. Survey, [1969], John Wesley Powell\u2014soldier, explorer,\n  Williams, P. L., 1964, Geology, structure, and uranium deposits of the\n          Moab quadrangle, Colorado and Utah: U.S. Geol. Survey Misc.\n  Williams, P. L., and Hackman, R. J., 1971, Geology, structure, and\n          uranium deposits of the Salina quadrangle, Utah: U.S. Geol.\n          Survey Misc. Geol. Inv. Map I-591.\n  Wooley, R. R., 1930, The Green River and its utilization: U.S. Geol.\n          Survey Water-Supply Paper 618, 456 p.\n  Wright, J. C., Shaw, D. R., and Lohman, S. W., 1962, Definition of\n          members of the Jurassic Entrada Sandstone in east-central Utah\n          and west-central Colorado: Am. Assoc. Petroleum Geologists\n    [Illustration: Petroglyph]\nFootnotes\n[1]For the benefit of visitors from countries using the metric system,\n    the following conversion factors may be helpful: 1 square mile =\n    2.590 square kilometers, 1 acre = 0.4047 hectare, 1 inch = 2.54\n    centimeters, 1 foot = 0.305 meter, 1 mile = 1.609 kilometers, 1 U.S.\n    gallon = 0.00379 cubic meter.\n[2]These plastic relief maps, made by the U.S. Army Map Service, can be\n    obtained from the T.N. Hubbard Scientific Co., Box 105, Northbrook,\n    Ill. 60062. Topographic maps at scales of 1:250,000 and 1:62,500 for\n    the entire area, topographic maps at a scale of 1:24,000 for much of\n    the area, and a special topographic map of \u201cCanyonlands National\n    Park and Vicinity\u201d at a scale of 1:62,500 are available from the\n    U.S. Geological Survey, Denver Distribution Section, Federal Center,\n    Denver, Colo. 80225, and from privately owned shops where maps are\n    sold. A revised edition of the latter, including relief shading,\n    will soon be available. An index map of Utah showing all available\n    topographic maps is free upon request to the above address.\n            [Italic page numbers indicate major references]\n  Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Monument                      115\n  Canyon de Chelly National Monument                                  115\n  Confluence of Green and Colorado Rivers                     17, 80, 106\n      _See also_ Cedar Mesa Sandstone; White Rim Sandstone.\n  Entrances, Island in the Sky district                         2, 28, 34\n  Four-wheel-drive roads. _See_ Jeep trails.\n  Glen Canyon National Recreation Area                                115\n  History, Butch Cassidy and his Wild Bunch                    14, 57, 92\n  Indian ruins. _See_ Ruins.\n  Maps, geologic 117\n  Moss Back Member of Chinle Formation                             16, 62\n  Natural Bridges National Monument                                   115\n  Organ Rock Tongue of Cutler Formation                                40\n  Paradox Member of Hermosa Formation                    53, 79, 108, 113\n          _See also_ Rincons.\n      jeep. _See_ Jeep trails.\n    [Illustration: DEPARTMENT OF THE INTERIOR \u00b7 March 3, 1949]\nTranscriber\u2019s Notes\n\u2014Retained publication information from the printed edition: this eBook\n  is public-domain in the country of publication.\n\u2014Corrected a few palpable typos.\n\u2014Included a transcription of the text within some images.\n\u2014In the text versions only, text in italics is delimited by\n  _underscores_.\nEnd of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Geologic Story of Canyonlands\nNational Park, by S. W. Lohman\n*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CANYONLANDS NATIONAL PARK ***\n***** This file should be named 51048-0.txt or 51048-0.zip *****\nThis and all associated files of various formats will be found in:\nProduced by Stephen Hutcheson, Dave Morgan and the Online\nUpdated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will\nbe renamed.\nCreating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright\nlaw means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works,\nso the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United\nStates without permission and without paying copyright\nroyalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part\nof this license, apply to copying and distributing Project\nGutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm\nconcept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark,\nand may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive\nspecific permission. 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{"source_document": "", "creation_year": 1937, "culture": " English\n", "content": "Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online\n                   BY ALBERT de PINA AND HENRY HASSE\n             On the barren wastes of Europa, two marooned\n            men fought, battling over an animal whose life\n           one had saved. There was no fear in the animal's\n          eyes--only the gleam of a weird unearthly knowledge\n              that foretold the way the fight would end.\n           [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n         Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n         the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\n\"Hugh! Hugh! There's life here ... look ... look at this! Found it in a\ncavern!\" The shrill voice was exultant and gleeful.\nHugh Betancourt quickly rose from the fire he tended, and turned\nstartled eyes on the furry bundle Jim Brannigan grasped firmly by the\nscruff of its neck. At first, nothing was visible but the liquid sheen\nof the thing's silvery fur; but as Jim roughly thrust it out, Hugh\ngave an involuntary gasp of surprise. The creature's small, triangular\nface was nothing less than beautiful! Its eyes were soft and large and\nluminous, like beryls, set wide apart. Above its broad forehead a short\nmane of silver fur, beginning in a widow's peak, fell back cloud-soft\nand shimmering. It was about three feet tall, slim, furred to the\nthroat-line; a strange biped with slender arms and six-fingered hands.\n\"Damn it, Jim, go easy! You've all but strangled it! Here give it to\nme.\" Hugh extended his arms.\n\"Don't let it get away from you, it's faster than a jack-rabbit,\" Jim\ncautioned, extending the ham-sized hand in which he held the creature.\n\"Luckily, I surprised it in a sort of cave-like gully, where it\ncouldn't escape. It means food, Hugh! Lots of food if we can find more\nof these animals!\"\nFor a moment, the incipient madness of many days on this hellish\nsatellite engulfed Hugh in a wave of nausea. He remembered the\ngravity-screen tearing from its pivots, and the space-ship caught in\nthe tremendous pull of Jupiter; the last desperate try at the controls,\nand then the tiny dark bulk of Europa curving up to met them headlong.\nThere had been cheerless days of biting cold when the tiny satellite\nfaced the distant pallid sun. There had been nights that were like a\ncanto out of Dante, as they were bathed in Jupiter's red cold-glow.\nMore recently, and for more reason, Hugh remembered the dwindling food\nsupply which had now quite vanished.\n\"Yes, food,\" Hugh echoed Jim's words in a hoarse whisper. He grasped\nthe soft warm body in his hands with gentle firmness. The creature\ndid not try to escape, it lay limp and inert with its eyes closed.\n\"But--but food doesn't quite solve our problem. Unless we can find some\noxide crystal to alloy in the portable smelter, we're sunk. Jim, that\njagged hole in the prow isn't going to repair itself!\"\nJim's ordinarily red face grew redder with anger, until there was no\ndistinguishing between the color of his hair and that of his face.\n\"All right,\" he snarled, \"so we need the oxide! For days we've been\nsearching all over this cold hell for some, and where are we? I still\nmaintain our immediate problem is food!\"\n\"Yes, yes, food,\" Hugh murmured. Why, he wondered vaguely, was he so\nreluctant to talk about it while he held this limp warm creature in\nhis arms? He looked down at it again, and was startled to find himself\nstaring into its extraordinary eyes. Limpid, brilliant, full of a\nsemi-human intelligence now, they were scarcely a foot from Hugh's own\neyes--and for a single instant Hugh had the crazy idea that they were\nfilled with a strange fixity of purpose, almost as if it were trying to\nconvey something to him there in the appalling silence of Europa.\nA sudden cold came over Hugh that was not the cold of Europa. It took\nquite an effort for him to tear his own eyes away, then he laughed and\nwhispered inquiringly of himself, \"Am I going crazy? Maybe this place\nis beginning to get me at last. For a moment I thought....\"\nHe shrugged uneasily.\n\"What are you mumbling?\" Jim demanded irritably, his huge form bulking\nagainst the bizarre jagged landscape. \"I'd have slit that thing's\nthroat and skinned it already? Here, give it----\"\n\"Wait, you fool!\" Hugh's ordinarily thoughtful, hazel eyes were bright\nnow and hard, as he drew back from Jim's grasping hand. \"We're the\nfirst to find life on Europa, the only ones to see what inhabits it;\nand all you can think of is your damned stomach. You can't be starved,\nyou ate this morning!\"\n\"Yes, and that was the last of it,\" Jim snarled. His face was ugly now\nand purposeful. \"Well, I'm hungry again, and now that I've found these\nEuropan kangaroos I aim to be fed and kept warm. Notice how fine that\npelt is?\"\nHugh had noticed, indeed. He had noticed even more, the peculiar sheen\nand aliveness of it, as if it were surcharged with a definite energy.\nAs he held the creature close, a warm feeling of well-being slowly\ndiffused through him. And something, _something_ like a faint echo in\nhis brain was like a shadowy background to his thoughts. Yes, he knew;\nhere was food and here was warm fur against the eternal cold of the\nsatellite. But their space suits protected them in a measure against\nthe cold, and if necessary they could subsist a few more days without\neating. Perhaps by then they would find some of the rare crystal oxide,\nenough to repair their ship and leave. Perhaps....\nIt was a long chance, almost an impossibility, and Hugh knew it; but\nnow, also, he knew what he must do.\nHe did it. With a distasteful glance at his now openly-belligerent\npartner, he stepped forward. Then with unexpected suddenness he lurched\nas if he'd lost his footing on the rough terrain. He stumbled sideways.\nHe twisted and fell deliberately to the ground. He opened his arms wide.\nIt was rather clumsily done, Hugh realized that instantly.\nFor an infinitesimal moment, the furry creature sprawled too, immobile,\nwhere Hugh's momentum had flung it. It gazed with an uncanny intensity\ninto the Earthman's eyes. Then in a single, graceful leap of incredible\nspeed, it was gone into the growing red haze, as night came on and\nJupiter's macabre glow shattered the surrounding crags.\n\"You fool, you utter damned fool!\" Jim Brannigan screamed, livid with\nrage. \"You did that deliberately!\" Then his huge body was launching\nat Hugh, the great heavy fists lashing out with the force of pistons.\nHugh, lighter but more lithe, had only time to roll to one side and\nregain his feet. Then he was ducking the barrage of blows, evading the\nmurderous rushes, allowing Jim to tire out of his frantic rage. Only\nonce did Hugh strike a blow, a terrific lashing left into the other's\nsolar plexus that doubled the red giant into helpless nausea.\n\"That's all we need now,\" Hugh said with a measure of calm, \"to maim or\ncripple each other. We'll never get back that way. Come out of it, man!\nWhat we've got to do is get that oxide!\"\n\"What we've got to get is food! You let the only food go that we had!\"\nJim Brannigan began to weep, in great racking sobs.\nMerely nerves, temporary hysterical reaction, Hugh decided. Jim wasn't\nreally hungry yet; he was only anticipating the event. When he got\nover this, he would sulk. When he got over that, he would start\nscheming, with that unpredictable mind of his. Knowing the man, Hugh\ndecided to watch him carefully from now on.\nHe took Jim's arm and they walked over to the crippled spacer, lying\nlike a great silver bug with its nose smashed, in the stark hollow\nof this ravine. They entered. Hugh walked forward and examined the\nthin sheet of berryllium that patched the ship's wounded hull for the\nnight. He went astern and turned on the generators at quarter speed, to\nprovide a miserly warmth. On his way back to the inner cabin he stopped\nand peered out of a porthole at a now familiar scene: Europa's dark mad\nterrain becoming swiftly suffused with Jupiter's red.\nHe entered the cabin, glanced at Jim and saw that he was now in the\nsulking stage. The hunger problem pressed insistently upon Hugh's own\nmind. That little furry creature! In spite of hunger, he was still\nglad he had let it escape; but damn it, he wished he knew why! Hugh\nthrust the problem from him and glanced again at Jim. Soon Jim's mind,\nbordering upon necessity, would begin scheming.\nHugh knew the man....\nDespite an utter weariness, Hugh didn't sleep through the rest of\nthat short night. His mind, alert and hunger-clear, wrestled with the\nproblem of survival in this mad world of snow and silence. In the\nopposite beryllium-mesh bunk, Jim snored fitfully, as though rehearsing\nin his sleep some violence in his mind.\nHugh arose slowly, and donned with caution the stiff, heavy space-suit\nas protection against the cold. Adjusting the helmet and oxygen tank,\nhe opened the airlock and ventured out into the Dantesque magnificence\nof Europa's night. The red opaline haze had the quality of a waking\nnightmare. The great snow crystals were drifting lazily again,\nappearing now like livid blotches of ruby. Jupiter loomed like a great\ngloating nemesis across the entire ragged horizon.\nHugh didn't know where he was going. No pre-determined plan guided his\nfootsteps. There was only a great urgency to leave the spacer and go\nsomewhere and seek.... Hugh stopped, brushed the brittle red snow from\nhis face-plate and wished he could wipe the sweat from his brow. Go\nwhere, and seek what? Seek oxide crystals of course, he told himself;\nbut there was something else now, something strange and powerful that\ngripped a part of his mind and urged him on like the fear of madness.\nHe stumbled on for hours it seemed, until he was in the fearsome\ncavern country. Here the stark, heaven-rearing cliffs were honeycombed\nwith tortuous caves and gullies and immense grottoes. He entered a\nlow gallery-like cave that wound in and downward into the mass of a\ngigantic cliff.\nNow an unshakable inner dread plucked at his mind and gripped his\nthroat as he tried to check his precipitate descent, but couldn't. He\nno longer seemed possessed of any volition of his own. He shrugged\nfatalistically; then he felt a thrill of excitement, as he noticed a\nfaint luminescence of the surrounding walls. This light increased as he\ndescended deeper and deeper through widening passages. Then at last, at\nthe end of a turn a burst of radiance met his eyes.\nHe was in a grotto of titanic proportions. The substance of its walls\nand distant ceiling gave it the gentle radiance of a sunless day. But\nit was a glaucous radiance, ineffably green as the light beneath the\nwaters of a shallow sea.\n\"Holy, roaring comets!\" Hugh swore aloud as he stood there quite still,\nstaring. \"By all the Red-Tails on Venus, it's oxide--all of it!\" His\nvoice echoed inside his helmet and beat against his eardrums.\nYes, it was berryllium oxide gleaming at his feet, crystalline and\npowdery just as men had found it for the first time a century before\nin the desert wastes of Arizona. The entire floor of the grotto was\ncovered with it as far as his widening eyes could see. He bent in a\nfrenzy of joy and scooped up whole handfuls. He half-babbled over it\nlike a delirious King Midas. He let it trickle fondly through his\nfingers in a little glittering flood. Saved! Now they could repair the\nship and return! Return to Earth and tell of this!\nNot until several minutes later did Hugh begin to wonder how he had\ncome here. With a rush of apprehension, he remembered a cold and\ntenacious something that had seized a part of his mind. But now it was\ngone and he felt strangely limp and tired.\nHe leaped to his feet. Staring around, he wondered if he could retrace\nhis steps back to the space-ship. And in that precise moment he felt\nhis mind seized again with a sort of frantic suddenness. There was no\nmistaking that very clear warning of, \"_Danger! Danger!_\"\nBut he could not have acted in time. Even as he spun around he was\nunaware of the shadow that lengthened behind him, until it loomed very\nnear and a part of it lashed out. Not until the last split second, did\nHugh glimpse wild and red-streaked eyes in vivid contrast to the grim\nand purposeful face behind a helmet plate. Then the part of the shadow\nthat was Jim Brannigan's arm, holding something massive like a rock,\ncompleted the swift arc and struck.\nA sun exploded within Hugh's head. Livid flames engulfed him, consumed\nhim, he tried to cry out but couldn't; then the sun fragments cruelly\nwithdrew, leaving him helpless in a cold blackness through which he\nfell like a plummet to ultimate extinction.\nJim Brannigan stood there tensely for a moment, looking at the man he\nhad struck down. But only for a moment. His lips quirked into a tight\nsmile, and his exulting keen eyes took in the cave's glittering expanse.\n\"A fortune in oxide crystals,\" he murmured, \"an inexhaustible mine! And\nhe thought he could cheat me out of it, keep it from me! Good thing I\nfollowed him. Serves him right if I've killed him.\"\nHe didn't seem too worried about it, and he didn't look at Hugh's body\nagain as he started gathering in the rare crystals.\n\"Europa's uncharted, I can claim-deed this whole region! And probably\nthere's another fortune in furs,\" he added as he suddenly remembered\nthe creature he had captured. Already, in his greedy mind's eye, he\nsaw himself a tycoon, the oxide king, with a corner on furs finer than\nanything ever seen on Earth, Venus or Mars.\nThis he saw. But what he didn't see were the myriad pairs of burning\nberyl eyes peering at him from concealed openings in the opaline walls.\nHe was not aware of the increasing energy potential being generated by\na growing legion of furred bodies in surrounding caverns, as more and\nmore Panadurs pressed forward to peer out at him. Around Jim Brannigan\nnow the frigid atmosphere began to rise. At first it was pleasantly\ncool, then warm, and warmer, until it became suffocating.\nStill the silvery-furred Panadurs, in utter silence, generated heat\nas their mental forces grew and deliberately united into a single,\nincreasing potential. Their fur stood erect, an angry violet-silver\nnow, crackling a little with the intensity of the effort. As a single\nunit, they waited, each furry Panadur now touching the other in a\nliving, livid chain of cumulative power.\nJim Brannigan ceased his gloating and awoke at last to an indefinable\ndanger. Swiftly he arose and whirled toward the entrance, peering back\nover his shoulder at the danger he could feel, that he knew was there,\nbut could not see.\nBut already it was too late. Now that increasing energy potential,\ngrown and united into a single purposeful weapon, was being aimed. Jim\nBrannigan hadn't taken three steps toward the entrance when suddenly,\nsilently, intangible as thought, but infinitely more devastating, it\nwas released! As the devastating bolt struck him, Brannigan collapsed\ninto a crumpled heap, shattered, silent ... inert.\nFor hours that lengthened into days, Hugh Betancourt lay unconscious.\nHis blanched features were lifeless and cold, there in the same cavern\nwhere Brannigan's treacherous blow had toppled him into oblivion.\nThen, as a hint of color returned to his cheeks, and a slow strength\nbegan to course through his limbs, he regained moments of lucidness;\nbut they were brief and he always lapsed back into delirium.\nWith the wavering unreality of a mirage, vague memories of those\nstrange furred creatures, encircling him, surged into his mind; they\nseemed to have pressed close to him, holding hands. Strange! They\nwere joined by a line of their fellow Panadurs to a similar circle\nsurrounding a huddled figure a short distance away. But that was crazy!\nAnd Hugh's mind would slide back into the darkness again.\nOnce, he thought one of the Panadurs came and placed its exquisite\nface against his chest, and held it there a long time, as if it were\ntesting the Earthman's metabolism. This seemed so very real! Hugh was\naware of an almost crackling silence and the cave ceiling's unchanging\nluminescence.\nStill a third time, he imagined that a silver-gray Panadur, almost\nstately in his measured movements, came over to him with a gleaming\njewel in his hand. It was an inch in diameter and the same color as\nthe creature's eyes, a pale luscent green. Majestically, despite his\ndiminutive size, he placed the stone over Hugh's heart. Instantly the\ngem flamed with the effulgence of a glowing star. The Panadur seemed\nsatisfied.\nWhen at last Hugh Betancourt regained full consciousness, and was able\nto sit up and stare around him, he realized that he had not been a prey\nto delusions. Although he still felt weak, his mind was crystal clear.\nHere was the circle of Panadurs still enclosing him. _But the circle\nhad grown_, as if a great many more creatures had joined the uncanny\ncircle in an ecstasy to be in close proximity to the tall earthman.\nTheir furry, vibrating bodies pressed close to him, and their strange,\nfragile hands touched his wrists and throat and face, as they seemed to\ncaress him with infinite gentleness.\nWaves of sheer energy seemed to envelop him and penetrate to the\ndeepest recesses of his being, as if by some strange alchemy, these\nalien creatures of stark Europa were transmitting to him the elemental\nlife force itself.\nBut strangely enough, that other circle of Panadurs enclosing that\nhuddled figure over there, in the semi-gloom, was contracting as it\ngrew smaller and smaller, day by day. Hugh ceased to wonder about all\nthis as he lay back to gather his strength. He fell into a peaceful\nsleep.\nThis time when he awoke, it was a profound sense of well-being far\nbeyond anything he'd ever known. It permeated his body with the\nexhilarating glow of a rare Venusian wine.\nOne thing, however, still eluded him. He sat up and felt his head\nwhere the blow had fallen. He remembered only the excruciating pain in\nthe microscopic instant before the rushing darkness came. There was\nnothing there now. Not even a scar.\n\"A rock from the ceiling must have fallen,\" he thought. \"My luck to be\nstanding right under it.\"\n\"_It was not a rock!_\"\nThe thought came into his mind clear and unmistakable. Then Hugh found\nhimself staring into the beryl-green eyes of the stately keeper of the\njewel. Like a flash, the scene he had not witnessed, of Jim Brannigan\nstalking him from the space-ship, the murderous blow and the vision of\nhimself lying in a pool of blood on the glittering expanse of oxide\ncrystals, was etched into his mind by the telepathic power of the\nPanadur.\n\"We know you would have spared us,\" came the uncanny stream of thought.\n\"Your companion captured me when I, as the chosen leader, went to\ninvestigate your arrival. But you deliberately let me go when it meant\nyour own life. But he, whose fur was like the angry spot of the greater\nworld, would have destroyed us. We read his thoughts.\"\n\"Telepathy, by Mercury's molten heart!\" Hugh exclaimed in awe, dimly\nsensing the prodigious mental power of the being. \"And we were going\nto eat one of them!\" He stared around the cave, remembering Jim\nBrannigan, and it was apparent that Hugh still didn't realize all that\nhad occurred. \"I suppose that murdering, mercenary scum's left long ago\nwith the ship, and here I'm stranded! If I ever get my hands on him----\"\n\"That you will never do.\"\nHugh was aware of the Panadur again, and he saw the shadowy copy of a\nsmile flit over its features.\n\"We gave you of our energy,\" the shimmering silver being transmitted.\n\"And we gave you of another life that you might have yours again. It\nwas but justice!\"\n\"What? What other life?\" And then Hugh tottered where he stood, swayed\nsickeningly, as the entire meaning burst upon him. He remembered the\nscenes in his delirium, when two circles, one of which enclosed him and\nanother that enclosed a huddled figure, had been formed by Panadurs,\nwhile a living chain of the brooding creatures joined the two circles\ntogether. He shuddered as he remembered that his own circle seemed to\nexpand as the other inexorably _contracted_!\n\"There was no choice!\" The limpid thought-message from the Panadur\nimpinged upon Hugh's mind. \"We know the secret of the release of\nelectronic energy by the disassociation of electronic and neutronic\nbalance in the atomic scale. We reverse the vibration of matter and\nthrough magnetic means draw a steady stream of energy--pure energy\nfrom matter in whatever state. In your case, we simply transmitted the\nenergy content of the red-furred one to you.\"\nHugh hardly dared to glance in the direction where the huddled figure\nhad been, but with an effort of will he steeled himself against the\ngrowing nausea and resolutely walked over to the thing.\nHe felt his sanity reeling.\nHe was brought back to sanity by the Panadur, who, all along, had\ncommunicated with him. Its fragile, six-fingered hand was extended,\npalm-upwards and lying on it was a gleaming jewel.\n\"Take it and go!\" The message came with majestic power, yet there was\na world of kindness in it. \"Go back to your ship. You will find its\ndamage repaired. We have done that for you. With the star of Panadur\nyou will be guided back as my thought centers upon it. On the day when\nyou return to our world, gaze upon the star and you will be helped to\nfind again and gather the crystals you seek. _But none from your planet\nmust ever see us again, or even hear of us!_\"\n\"I promise!\" Hugh exclaimed fervently, remembering Jim Brannigan's\nintent and that there were many men like Brannigan.\nSlowly Hugh left the cave, clutching the dazzling gem through which\nhe could feel a directed flow of thought. He was still a little dazed\nat this miracle. He wanted to laugh and to cry. But the flooding\nrealization that his ship, repaired and ready, awaited him; that he was\nfree to leave this craggy hell of crimson shadows and arctic nights,\nleft only a vast, singing quiet in his soul, too deep for tears.\nEnd of Project Gutenberg's Star of Panadur, by Albert dePina and Henry Hasse", "source_dataset": "gutenberg", "source_dataset_detailed": "gutenberg -  Star of Panadur\n"},
{"source_document": "", "creation_year": 1937, "culture": " English\n", "content": "Produced by Stephen Hutcheson and the Online Distributed\nProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net\n         New York Peace Monument, Point Park, Lookout Mountain\nThe Front Cover:\nThe New York Central Memorial, or Peace Monument, Point Park, Lookout\nMountain, Tennessee. This is the largest and most imposing monumental\nstructure in the park. The height is 95 feet. The base is 50 feet in\ndiameter. The platform is reached by 7 steps which are made of Tennessee\nmarble. There is a colonnade 3 steps above the platform. In the center\nof the colonnade is a pedestal on which rests the tall circular shaft.\nThe shaft is surmounted by bronze figures of a Union and Confederate\nsoldier with \u201cOld Glory\u201d towering above them. \u201cTheir hands once raised\nin strife, now clasping a brother\u2019s hand.\u201d These bronze figures are 8\u2032\n9\u2033 high and were designed by R. Hinton Perry of New York, to whom the\nidea was suggested by General Daniel E. Sickles. The pink granite in\nthis monument came from Milford, Mass. The contractor for the granite\nwork was G. H. Cutting Granite Co., of Worcester, Mass. The plans and\nspecifications for the monument were prepared by A. J. Zabriskie,\nEngineer and Secretary of the New York Monument Commission. This\nmonument was erected in 1907 at a cost of approximately $80,000.00. It\nwas dedicated on November 15, 1910, with impressive ceremonies, the\ndedication alone costing $21,138.58. In his address on that occasion\nGeneral Sickles said of this monument:\n\u201cI take a great deal of pride in that monument. It was designed by my\ncolleagues and myself and my secretary, A. J. Zabriskie. I myself\ndesigned a great deal of the statuary which surmounts it. It represents\nconciliation; and that was my thought\u2014my thought of a Northern and\nSouthern soldier standing under one flag, which they both hold as they\nembrace each other. That is the spirit in which we have done our\nmonumental work in Chattanooga, in placing there an enduring monument to\nreconciliation and peace. New York holds out her hand to Tennessee. New\nYork embraces Tennessee and all her sister states in the South. New York\noffers to all of them good fellowship, good will and reconciliation now\nand forever.\u201d\n  CHICKAMAUGA AND CHATTANOOGA NATIONAL MILITARY PARK\n  CHATTANOOGA AND ITS IMPORTANCE DURING THE CIVIL WAR\n  THE CAMPAIGN AND BATTLE OF CHICKAMAUGA\n  THE SIEGE AND BATTLE OF CHATTANOOGA\n  REGIMENTAL LOSSES\u2014HERE AND ELSEWHERE\n  CIVIL WAR PRISONS\n  DID YOU KNOW THAT\n  HISTORIC SITES IN CHATTANOOGA\n          CHATTANOOGA, OR BOTH\n_The following pages have been written after a careful study of the\nOfficial records and other Civil War library books to which I have had\naccess over a period of years, and not upon the recollection of personal\nexperience, as I did not belong to the generation which fought the great\nCivil War. It has been my desire to make all statements as accurate as\npossible, and sincerely believe that any and all statements contained in\nthis volume can be verified by the Official Records. I wish to express\nmy thanks to the War Department, under whose authority the Official\nRecords were published. I also wish to express my thanks to the late\nHon. Charles W. Lusk of Chattanooga, Tennessee, for his valuable\nsuggestions._\n    [Illustration: Entrance to Point Park. Lookout Mountain]\n    [Illustration: Riderless Horse\u2014Chickamauga Battlefield]\n           CHICKAMAUGA AND CHATTANOOGA NATIONAL MILITARY PARK\n                        (Georgia and Tennessee)\nBy an act of Congress, approved August 19, 1890, the Chickamauga and\nChattanooga National Military Park was established, with a view to\npreserving and suitably marking those battlefields for historical and\nprofessional military study. The part undertaken by the Government in\nthe establishment of this park embraced the purchase of lands,\nrestoration of the fields, construction of roads and trails, building of\nobservation towers, the erection of appropriate monuments to the regular\ntroops engaged there, the preparation of hundreds of historical tablets\nfor the various organizations of the contending armies, the mounting of\noriginal guns in their exact positions during the battles and the\nerection of shell pyramids, both of square-base and triangular-base\ntype.\nThe park was created as a result of the reunion of the Army of the\nCumberland which was held in Chattanooga, Tennessee, on September 19-20,\n1889. At this reunion, the Chickamauga Memorial Association was formed.\nGen. John T. Wilder was elected president and Gen. Joseph Wheeler\nvice-president. Then a Board of Directors, numbering 28, were elected.\nOf this number, an equal division was made of ex-Union and\nex-Confederate officers.\nSince that time the various states having troops in the battles have\nerected hundreds of beautiful, expensive monuments and markers which\nshow the exact regimental positions of their troops. The tablets mark\nthe brigade and division positions and give a brief history of their\nactivities. The blue tablets mark the Union positions, while the red\ntablets mark Confederate positions. Another interesting thing to know is\nthat all of these tablets have been placed in such a manner that when\nyou are facing them, you are facing the same direction which the troops\nwere facing at that time and place. Therefore, if anyone cares to follow\nup the movements of any particular organization, it can be done very\neasily.\nEvery effort has been made to restore the battlefields to their original\ncondition. Speaking of the shell pyramids, there are 14 of the\nsquare-base type which mark the headquarters sites of either an army\ncorps or the field headquarters of the commanding general. There are 8\nof the triangular-base pyramids which mark the exact spot where each of\nthe brigade commanders lost their lives. All of these are located on the\nChickamauga battlefield. On Missionary Ridge, a bronze cannon-ball\nmonument has been substituted for a pyramid. This also marks the site\nwhere a brigade commander lost his life. One original house stands on\nthe Chickamauga battlefield; also three replicas of the original.\nThis is the largest and oldest of the National Military Parks. It is\nprobably the first one on which the high-ranking officers of the\ncontending armies ever met to determine their exact locations during the\nbattles. The park consists of approximately 8,584 acres, and embraces\nthe battlefields of Chickamauga, Orchard Knob, Lookout Mountain and\nMissionary Ridge, all of which were very important in military\noperations around Chattanooga, Tennessee, in the fall of 1863. The\nChickamauga battlefield alone covers 5,562 acres.\n          CHATTANOOGA AND ITS IMPORTANCE DURING THE CIVIL WAR\nIn 1863 Chattanooga was a very small town with a population of only\n4,000. Notwithstanding the small population, it was the objective of\nboth the Union and Confederate armies. Its importance was chiefly due to\nthe railroads that intersected here. There were rail connections to the\nMississippi River at Memphis; to the Ohio River via Nashville and\nLouisville; to the Atlantic at Savannah and Charleston via Atlanta, and\nto Richmond via Knoxville and Lynchburg. In addition to this,\nChattanooga was located on the Tennessee River. Therefore, with every\ntransportation facility possible, its possession was of vital\nimportance. Union troops in possession of Chattanooga, meant a wedge\nthrough the Confederacy, because Chattanooga was the \u201ckey\u201d to east\nTennessee and northwest Georgia. Furthermore, it would discourage the\nforwarding of supplies and the transportation of troops back and forth\nfrom Richmond to the areas in west Tennessee and Mississippi. The\nsection of east Tennessee in which Chattanooga is located is one of the\nmost fertile sections in the entire South for the production of grain.\nNot only wheat, corn and hay, but plenty of beef, bacon, horses and\nmules. All of these were of vital importance in the support of an army.\nIn fact, both Governments profited from the resources of this area.\nAnother reason for Chattanooga\u2019s importance was a political reason. All\nof the mountainous region of east Tennessee in which Chattanooga is\nlocated was exceptionally sympathetic with the Union. President Lincoln\nand his military advisers regarded the possession of Chattanooga by the\nUnion army as second only in importance to the capture of Richmond\u2014the\nConfederate capital. It was by far the most important city in Tennessee\nto place Union forces since it would encourage the Unionist sentiment\nand relieve the loyal citizens from Confederate control.\nEventually two major battles were fought for possession of Chattanooga.\nFirst, the battle of Chickamauga on September 19-20, which was a\nConfederate victory. Two months later the battle of Chattanooga was\nfought. This was a three-day battle. At Orchard Knob, Nov. 23rd; Lookout\nMountain, Nov. 24th; Missionary Ridge, Nov. 25th. This was a very\ndecisive victory for the Union army.\nNOTE: In reading of the battles, please remember that any name used\napplies strictly to their commands unless otherwise explained.\n          THE FIRST OCCUPATION OF CHATTANOOGA BY CONFEDERATES\nAt the outbreak of the Civil War, there were no Confederate soldiers in\nChattanooga. They made their appearance in the spring of 1862\u2014a year\nafter the war started. These troops were commanded by Generals Floyd,\nMaxey and Leadbetter. It was only a short time until Union forces,\ncommanded by General Mitchell, arrived. They shelled the city on June\n7th and 8th, and the Confederates made a hasty exit. In August, General\nBraxton Bragg, commanding the Confederate army, invaded Chattanooga and\nstarted a campaign into Kentucky. After an unsuccessful campaign in\nKentucky, Bragg was forced to fall back to Murfreesboro, Tennessee. At\nthis time the Union army was at Nashville, Tennessee. On December 31,\n1862, and January 1-2, 1863, the battle of Stones River, or\nMurfreesboro, was fought. This was a fierce battle which resulted in a\nUnion victory. The victory enabled the Union army to spend the remainder\nof the winter in Murfreesboro, while the Confederates retreated\nsoutheastward to Tullahoma, Tennessee. At this time the Army of the\nCumberland (Union) was commanded by Major-General William S. Rosecrans.\nThe Army of Tennessee (Confederate) was commanded by General Braxton\nBragg whom Fort Bragg, one of our most modern army posts, is named in\nhonor of. Both armies were making preparations for future battles which\nthey realized were forthcoming once winter was over. The Confederates\nposted a strong line of cavalry on the north side of the Duck river.\nTheir infantry positions were strongly fortified. The winter months were\nlong and severe, and you may be sure that both armies endured many\nhardships. The Union plans called for Rosecrans to take Chattanooga and\nAtlanta, both important railroad centers, during 1863. In fact,\nChattanooga was an important railroad center as early as 1850. Both\narmies were rather idle for several months although Rosecrans was being\nurged to renew hostilities against Bragg.\n                         THE TULLAHOMA CAMPAIGN\nFinally, on June 23, 1863, Rosecrans left Murfreesboro, moving against\nBragg at Tullahoma. By exercising very clever strategy in the form of a\nseries of flanking movements, the Confederates were forced to give up\none stronghold after another. The Confederates finally crossed the\nTennessee River at Bridgeport and Caperton\u2019s Ferry, Alabama, and moved\ndirectly into Chattanooga. The first arrival at Chattanooga was at the\nsame hour that General Pickett made his famous charge at Gettysburg,\nnamely near high noon on July 3rd. By this time the Union army had\nadvanced to the western base of the Cumberland Mountain. The right of\ntheir line was at Winchester; the left at McMinnville. Rosecrans, with\nhis headquarters at Winchester, was making preparations for another\ncampaign for occupying Chattanooga. At this time Chattanooga was of\nutmost importance to both armies, and no doubt the largest prize from a\nmilitary standpoint which the Army of the Cumberland ever contended for.\nThe Confederates had destroyed the bridge across the Tennessee River at\nBridgeport to delay the pursuit of the Union Army. The Union army\nconsisted of three regular Army Corps; the 14th, commanded by Maj.-Gen.\nGeorge H. Thomas; the 20th, commanded by Maj.-Gen. Alexander McCook, and\nthe 21st, commanded by Maj.-Gen. Thomas L. Crittenden. The Cavalry Corps\nwas commanded by Brig.-Gen. Robert Mitchell; the Reserve Corps was\ncommanded by Maj.-Gen. Gordon Granger. The disposition of the Union\nforces was as follows:\nThomas was posted at Decherd; McCook at McMinnville, and Crittenden at\nWinchester. Again Rosecrans was urged to renew hostilities against\nBragg. The Cumberland, Raccoon and Lookout Mountain ranges and the\nTennessee River were some of the giant obstacles between Rosecrans and\nChattanooga. To cross these required a maximum of time and supplies as\nit was quite a task. There were railroads to repair; the river bridge to\nbe rebuilt. All of this required time and labor. It was humanly\nimpossible for Rosecrans to begin a forward movement at this time. By\nextending every effort possible, it was July 25th before the railroads\nwere repaired. Another weighty consideration of Rosecrans was the\nnecessary forage for the animals. Having knowledge that corn would not\nbe ripe in east Tennessee and northern Alabama before the middle of\nAugust, Rosecrans insisted on waiting until that time before he launched\nanother campaign. Officials of the War Department were eager for action\non the part of Rosecrans.\nOn August 4th, Gen. Halleck sent a message to Rosecrans which said:\n\u201cYour forces must move forward without delay. You will daily report the\nmovement of each corps till you cross the Tennessee River.\u201d Since\nRosecrans was not ready for the movement, he replied: \u201cYour dispatch\nordering me to move forward without delay, reporting the movements of\neach corps till I cross the Tennessee River received. As I have\ndetermined to cross the river as soon as practicable, and have been\nmaking all preparations and getting such information as may enable me to\ndo so without being driven back, like Hooker, I wish to know if your\norder is intended to take away my discretion as to the time and manner\nof moving my troops.\u201d To this message Gen. Halleck replied: \u201cThe orders\nfor the advance of your army, and that it be reported daily are\nperemptory.\u201d This latter message did not set well with Rosecrans. He\nprepared his reply and after conferring with his corps commanders and\nreceiving their assurance that they would support him, he sent the\nfollowing message: Gen. Halleck: \u201cMy arrangements for beginning a\ncontinuous movement will be completed and the execution begun Monday\nnext. We have information to show that crossing the Tennessee River\nbetween Bridgeport and Chattanooga is impracticable, but not enough to\nshow whether we had better cross above Chattanooga and strike Cleveland,\nor below Bridgeport and strike in their rear. The preliminary movement\nof troops for the two cases are quite different. It is necessary to have\nour means of crossing the river completed and our supplies provided to\ncross 60 miles of mountains and sustain ourselves during the operations\nof crossing and fighting, before we move. To obey your order literally\nwould be to push our troops into the mountains on narrow and difficult\nroads, destitute of pasture and forage; and short of water where they\nwould not be able to maneuver as exigencies demand, and would certainly\ncause ultimate delay and probable disaster. If, therefore, the movement\nwhich I propose can not be regarded as obedience to your order, I\nrespectfully request a modification of it or to be relieved from the\ncommand.\u201d\n  Gen. Halleck wired him as follows: \u201cI have communicated to you the\n  wishes of the Government in plain and unequivocal terms. The objective\n  has been stated, and you have been directed to lose no time in\n  reaching it. The means you are to employ and the roads you are to\n  follow are left to your own discretion. If you wish to promptly carry\n  out the wishes of the Government you will not stop to discuss mere\n  details. In such matters I do not interfere.\u201d\n  Rosecrans replied the same day. His message read: \u201cYour dispatch\n  received. I can only repeat the assurance given before the issuance of\n  the order. This army shall move with all dispatch compatible with the\n  successful execution of our work. We are pressing everything to bring\n  up forage for our animals. The present rolling stock of the road will\n  barely suffice to keep us day by day here, but I have bought 50 more\n  freight cars, which are arriving. Will advise you daily.\u201d There was no\n  further interference from Washington.\n    [Illustration: Park Headquarters, Chickamauga Battlefield]\n    [Illustration: Snodgrass House, Chickamauga Battlefield]\n                      THE CAMPAIGN FOR CHATTANOOGA\nOn August 16th, the Union army started their forward movement. Thomas\nand McCook moved their corps down to the Tennessee River at Bridgeport.\nCrittenden moved down the Sequatchie Valley, having troops from just\nnorth of Jasper to a point above Pikeville. A part of the latter\u2019s\ncorps, (Wilder\u2019s and Wagner\u2019s Mounted Infantry) took positions along\nWalden\u2019s Ridge and Signal Mountain where they were in plain view of the\nConfederates in Chattanooga. Numerous demonstrations were made at these\npoints to attract the attention of the Confederates and to make them\nbelieve they were attempting to cross the river at some point above the\ncity. They would beat on empty barrels to imitate the rolling of supply\nwagons. They also built huge bon-fires and would march back and forth in\nthe flare of them. Buglers were placed at distant points where they\nwould strike a few notes at regular intervals. They even sawed planks,\nboards and pieces of logs to float down the river to give the\nConfederates the impression they were building a pontoon bridge at some\npoint above the city. On August 21st, a part of Wilder\u2019s brigade\nadvanced to Stringer\u2019s Ridge where they shelled Chattanooga with\nartillery. One shell landed in front of the First Presbyterian Church at\nSeventh and Market streets, while services were being conducted. Some\nreports claim that a little girl had her leg broken by a piece of shell.\nHowever, according to the report of Confederate Gen. D. H. Hill, several\nwomen and children were killed. Today, Chattanooga\u2019s tallest building,\nthe Hamilton National Bank, stands on this site. The shelling of the\ncity showed that the Union troops were on the immediate front of the\nConfederates. As a result, Cleburne\u2019s division was sent to Harrison, and\nthen distributed at every ford and ferry between the mouths of the\nChickamauga Creek and the Hiwasee River\u2014a distance of at least 50 miles.\nThese troops were so placed in order to guard against any possible\ncrossing by the Union troops. All of these positions were covered by\nrifle-pits and batteries. With the Confederates\u2019 attention drawn in this\ndirection, the main body of the Union army effected a crossing of the\nriver at Bridgeport, 30 miles below Chattanooga, between August 29th and\nSeptember 4th, unmolested. Thomas crossed over the Sand Mountain to\nTrenton, Georgia, after much difficulty.\nWhen Bragg learned that the Union army had crossed the river below him\nhe evacuated Chattanooga during the 8th and 9th of September, moving 26\nmiles southward to LaFayette, Georgia, behind the Pigeon Mountains. This\nmovement was made in order that he could protect his line of\ncommunications and his base of supplies, his base being Atlanta. As the\nlast of Bragg\u2019s army was leaving the city on the morning of September\n9th, the 92nd Illinois Mounted Infantry made a reconnaissance on Lookout\nMountain. They then entered the city. Crittenden\u2019s corps followed the\nrailroad to Ringgold, then westward to Rock Springs in pursuit of the\nConfederates. At this latter point, Crittenden was directly between\nBragg and Chattanooga.\n                         PRELIMINARY MOVEMENTS\nRosecrans was led to believe that Bragg was in full retreat to Rome and\nAtlanta. He had gathered this information from pretended deserters from\nthe Confederate army. However, he was determined to head the\nConfederates off. He immediately dispatched Thomas and McCook down\nLookout Valley to point 26 and 42 miles below Chattanooga where they\ncrossed Lookout Mountain. Thomas moved into McLemore\u2019s Cove; McCook to\nAlpine and Summerville, Georgia. In planning these movements and making\nsuch disposition of his troops, Rosecrans was falling into a trap which\nhad been set for him. Bragg\u2019s army was not in retreat. They had no\nintentions of retreating. Rosecrans was not aware of the fact that Bragg\nwas not in retreat until about September 12th. His army was divided into\nthree sections. It was at least 60 miles from the left to right of his\ntroops. Meanwhile, Bragg at LaFayette, was opposite the Union center and\nin position to attack and crush the Union army in detail as they emerged\nfrom the mountains. He had already been re-enforced by Buckner from east\nTennessee and Walker from Mississippi. He was only awaiting Longstreet\u2019s\narrival from Virginia before turning back in an effort to retake\nChattanooga. The latter named troops were seasoned veterans who were\nsent down by Gen. Lee. A great many of them had fought in the battle of\nGettysburg. Upon their arrival Bragg ordered the Confederates to turn\nback toward Chattanooga. His plan was to attack Crittenden and in case\nThomas and McCook should arrive they could be taken care of, likewise,\nin order. Failure of his subordinate officers to comply promptly with\nthese orders caused this opportunity to be lost. Rosecrans, upon\nlearning that Bragg had received heavy re-enforcements and was turning\nback in an effort to retake Chattanooga, hurriedly ordered the\nconcentration of his forces. McCook, contrary to orders, took a\nroundabout route from Summerville, causing some delay. However, on\nSeptember 17th, he joined Thomas and they in turn started their movement\nto join Crittenden. At this time Crittenden was on the west side of\nChickamauga Creek at Lee and Gordon\u2019s Mill. It was necessary for Thomas\nand McCook to make a forced march day and night in order to reach\nCrittenden. They were practically exhausted when they reached him.\n                        BRAGG\u2019S PLAN FOR BATTLE\nOn September 17th, Bragg had ordered his troops to cross the Chickamauga\nCreek at Reed\u2019s and Alexander\u2019s bridges. They were to sweep up the creek\ntoward Crittenden\u2019s position. His objective was to gain possession of\nthe main road between Rosecrans and Chattanooga. Incidentally, this main\nroad is known today as Highway U. S. No. 27. The Confederates reached\nChickamauga Creek on Friday afternoon, September 18th. Here they met\nwith some opposition from the Union troops. After a great deal of\nskirmishing, of which some was rather severe, the Confederates effected\na crossing.\n                       THE BATTLE OF CHICKAMAUGA\nOn Saturday morning the right of the Confederate line extended to the\nReed\u2019s Bridge road. Forrest\u2019s Cavalry Corps was posted on the right of\nthis line. Thomas\u2019 troops arrived on the LaFayette road at the Kelley\nfield near daylight on Saturday morning, the 19th. Brannan\u2019s division\nmoved up the main road to the McDonald field, thence east toward Reed\u2019s\nbridge. When in the vicinity of Jay\u2019s Mill they encountered Forrest\u2019s\ncavalry. Croxton\u2019s brigade fired into them and thus opened the battle of\nChickamauga. Forrest\u2019s men dismounted and returned the fire, fighting as\ninfantry. It was now 7:30 A. M. The battle was slow to start. Then it\nbecame severe. Both sides sent for re-enforcements which were sent at\nonce. Connell\u2019s and VanDerveer\u2019s brigades came to Croxton\u2019s support\nwhile Walker and Liddell brought their divisions to Forrest\u2019s\nassistance. Due to the Confederates not being in the positions which\nBragg had ordered them, a great deal of confusion resulted. However,\ntroops kept filling in on both sides until the lines were about three\nmiles in length. Each side gained and lost ground many times by severe\ncharging and counter-charging. Baird made an effort to reform his lines\nbut while doing so, was attacked by Walker in greater numbers. King and\nScribner were driven back some distance at the same time. The Union\nforces then drove Walker to his former position. At this time Cheatham\ncame to Walker\u2019s rescue and they drove Johnson, Palmer and VanCleve back\nin order. Reynolds was then overpowered by the Confederates, the rebels\nyelling wildly all the while. Davis and Wood then checked the advance of\nthe Confederates. After adjusting their lines, they drove Cheatham,\nWalker and Stewart back to their former positions. Most of the fighting\nwas in the woods at this time although some was in open fields. Much of\nit was at very close range. In just such manner the fighting lasted all\nthe forenoon, neither side gaining very much. Casualties were high on\nboth sides. It is believed that the 10th and 74th Indiana Infantry were\nthe most severely engaged at this time. It may be interesting to learn\nthat Col. William B. Carroll, commanding the 10th Indiana Infantry, was\nthe first field officer to be killed at Chickamauga. By noon the\nfighting was general throughout the lines.\nDuring the afternoon the most severe fighting took place near the\nopposite ends of the lines in the Vineyard field. Fighting at this point\nwas all at close range and some was hand-to-hand. About 4:00 P. M., Col.\nHans C. Heg, 15th Wisconsin Infantry, was mortally wounded. Col. Heg\ncommanded the 3rd brigade of Davis\u2019 division. With death staring him in\nthe face, he again rallied his men and rode nearly one-quarter of a mile\nbefore the loss of blood weakened him to such an extent that he was\nforced to give up his command. His brigade was taken over by Col. John\nA. Martin of the 8th Kansas Infantry. Col. Heg was the first brigade\ncommander to fall on the Chickamauga battlefield. After a restless night\nin a hospital, he passed away near noon of the 20th. After sundown the\nfighting ceased at all portions of the field. Neither side had gained\nany worthwhile advantage during this first day of battle, although the\nUnion forces had been driven much closer to the main road. The left of\nthe Union line under Thomas was well anchored across the main highway;\nthe center under McCook was just west of the highway, and the right end\nof the line under Crittenden was still east of the highway. The\nConfederate line was very close to the Union line at all points. Shortly\nafter dark the battle was renewed near the north end of the lines.\nCleburne and Cheatham encountered Johnson and Baird. The fighting lasted\nonly about an hour but the losses were heavy. Two brigade commanders\nlost their lives about 7:00 P. M. On the Union side, Col. Philemon P.\nBaldwin of Indiana, was killed. Col. Baldwin commanded the 3rd brigade\nof Johnson\u2019s division. Col. William W. Berry of the 5th Kentucky\nInfantry, assumed command of Baldwin\u2019s brigade. On the Confederate side,\nBrig.-Gen. Preston Smith of Tennessee was killed. Gen. Smith commanded a\nbrigade of Cheatham\u2019s division. Col. Alfred J. Vaughn, Jr., 13th\nTennessee Infantry, assumed command of Smith\u2019s brigade. During the night\nboth armies rearranged their lines in preparation for the next day\u2019s\nbattle. The right end of the Union line was shifted from the vicinity of\nthe Vineyard field westward to the Crawfish Springs road near Widow\nGlenn\u2019s. The Confederate line remained east of the highway at all\npoints, slightly over-lapping the Union line on either end. The troops\non the left of the Union line fortified their positions during the night\nby falling trees, stacking rails, stumps, etc., in preparation for\nSunday\u2019s battle. On the Confederate side Longstreet, the South\nCarolinian, arrived with his corps about 11:00 P. M. At this time Bragg\ndivided his army into two wings, the left and right. Longstreet was\ngiven command of the left wing; Gen. Leonidas Polk, the North\nCarolinian, who was the first Protestant Episcopal Bishop of Louisiana,\nwas placed in command of the right wing. Bragg gave order for the battle\nto be resumed at daylight on Sunday morning. His plan was to launch the\nConfederate right against the Union left, with each division and brigade\nto their left to take up the firing in order until the battle became\ngeneral throughout the field. Hill\u2019s corps was on the right of the\nConfederate line. Breckinridge commanded the extreme right division. The\nlatter had three brigades, commanded by Helm, Adams and Stovall.\nSunday morning came. The battle was not resumed at daylight. Sunrise\ncame, but still no battle. Bragg was waiting impatiently, listening and\nwondering. His orders were not being carried out, even in part. Finally,\nbecoming nervous, he went in search of Polk, Hill and Breckinridge. He\nwas determined to find the cause for delay. It seems that everyone but\nthe right one had received their orders. Hill claimed he had no\nknowledge of Bragg\u2019s plan, although his division commanders had received\ntheir orders. Some of the Confederates had not had their breakfast,\nalthough it was considerably past the breakfast hour. None of the troops\nwere in position for battle as had been ordered. This necessitated a\ngreat deal of rearrangement in the lines. It is a known fact that Hill\ndid not approve of Polk being in a higher command than himself. Hill\ninsisted that he was senior to Polk in his rank. Possibly this caused\nthe delay in resuming the battle. About 9:00 o\u2019clock, the Confederate\nright was thrown forward against the Union left. The logworks were too\nstrong for the Confederates. Time and again they charged, to be driven\nback with severe losses. This fighting was at very close range. Helm\u2019s\nbrigade was almost shattered, and while engaged in this desperate\nstruggle, the commander, Brig.-Gen. Ben Hardin Helm of Kentucky was\nmortally wounded. Helm was a brother-in-law of President Lincoln\u2019s wife.\nHowever, fragments of his brigade, in addition to Adams and Stovall,\ngained the left and rear of the Union left and entered the Kelley field.\nLater they were repulsed. Gradually the battle rolled from right to left\nalong the Confederate line. Longstreet, near the Confederate center, was\nopposite the Brotherton house. About 11:15 A. M., a gap was created in\nthe Union center when Wood\u2019s division, through the misunderstanding of\nan order issued by Rosecrans, withdrew from the line and marched to the\nleft and rear of Brannan.\n    [Illustration: View from Point Lookout overlooking Moccasin Bend\n    with Chattanooga in background.]\n    [Illustration: The famous Umbrella Rock, Lookout Mountain]\nLongstreet, with eight brigades, forced their way through, throwing the\nright and right center of the Union line back in confusion. Rosecrans,\nMcCook and Crittenden left the field. A great many of the troops under\nthe latter named two left the field. Some few of them later rallied and\nremained on the field during the afternoon. Gen. Thomas, then being the\nsenior officer on the field, immediately assumed command. Holding a\npivot with the extreme left of his line, the right end moved back until\nit reached Snodgrass hill. This gave him an almost impregnable position.\nWith this newly formed east-west line he could check the advance of the\nConfederates and also cover Rosecrans\u2019 retreat. The Confederates, upon\ncrossing the road, changed front with their artillery. Their infantry\nswept around like a large gate on hinges. By almost continuous\nadvancing, the Confederates reached the south side of Snodgrass hill\nwhere they established their line. Within less than an hour from the\ntime of the break in the Union line, three other brigade commanders lost\ntheir lives. Near the Confederate right, Col. Peyton H. Colquitt, 46th\nGeorgia Infantry, was mortally wounded about noon. Colquitt commanded\nGist\u2019s brigade of Walker\u2019s division. Lt.-Col. Leroy Napier assumed\ncommand of Colquitt\u2019s brigade. A short distance to the south, Brig.-Gen.\nJames Deshler of Texas was killed about the same time. Deshler commanded\na brigade in Cleburne\u2019s division. His command was taken over by Col.\nRoger Q. Mills. Farther to the southwest in the Union line, Brig.-Gen.\nWilliam H. Lytle, the Cincinnati soldier-poet, was killed while trying\nto rally his brigade against the Confederate sweep to the north. Lytle\ncommanded the 1st brigade of Sheridan\u2019s division. His command was taken\nover by Col. Silas Miller of the 36th Illinois Infantry.\nBy 2:00 P. M. the battle was raging on Snodgrass hill. This fighting was\nat very close range and a great deal was hand-to-hand struggling. The\nConfederates kept charging up the slopes, making every effort to drive\nthe Union troops from their position. They were never able to carry the\nhill. A few of the Confederates passed over the hill to the right of the\nUnion line. They moved to the rear of Brannan and entered the valley\nbeyond his position. About 3.00 P. M., when the fighting reached its\npeak, Longstreet sent to Bragg for re-enforcements from the right wing.\nHowever, he never received them. On the contrary, he was told by Bragg\nthat the troops of the right wing had been beaten back so badly that\nthey would be of no service to him. There were Confederates in reserve\nwhich had scarcely been engaged, if Longstreet could only have gotten\nthem. Along the Union line, it was quite different. At 3:30 P. M.,\nSteedman\u2019s division of Granger\u2019s reserve corps came to Thomas\u2019s\nassistance. These re-enforcements consisted of Mitchell\u2019s and Whitaker\u2019s\nbrigades. They drove the Confederates from the rear of Brannan,\nstrengthened and prolonged the Union line westward. They also passed out\nammunition along the line. While the fighting was so severe the woods\ncaught on fire. This was caused by the artillery firing so low. Hundreds\nof the soldiers, both Union and Confederate, were burned and scorched\nbeyond recognition. Steedman no doubt saved Thomas from having to\nretreat from the hill since the latter\u2019s ammunition supply was\ncompletely exhausted. It was at this point that Thomas gained the name\nof \u201cThe Rock of Chickamauga.\u201d\n                        THE CLOSE OF THE BATTLE\nAt 4:45 P. M., Thomas received orders from Rosecrans directing him to\nwithdraw. The withdrawal was not started at this time. There had been\nsevere fighting in the Kelley field during the afternoon. At 5:00 P. M.\nCol. Edward A. King, 68th Indiana Infantry, was killed in the southeast\ncorner of this field. King commanded the 2nd brigade of Reynolds\ndivision. He was the last of the eight brigade commanders who lost their\nlives on the Chickamauga battlefield. Col. Milton S. Robinson assumed\ncommand of his brigade. About 7:00 P. M., Thomas began to withdraw. The\nConfederates had gained possession of the LaFayette road to the left and\nrear of the Union line. Since Thomas wanted to re-establish his lines\nbetween Bragg and Chattanooga, the withdrawal was made via McFarland Gap\nto Rossville; then south on the Chattanooga-LaFayette highway to\nRossville Gap and Missionary Ridge. Fortifications were thrown up along\nthis portion of the ridge to keep the Confederates in check. The Union\nline also extended across Chattanooga Valley and up the slopes of\nLookout Mountain. Thomas held this line along Missionary Ridge\nthroughout Monday, the 21st. During the night they abandoned this\nposition and moved into Chattanooga. Thus ended the battle of\nChickamauga.\nThere were approximately 124,000 troops engaged at Chickamauga. Of this\nnumber, there were 58,000 Union soldiers and 66,000 Confederates. During\nthe two-day battle, there were 34,000 casualties. Of these casualties,\nthere were 16,000 Union; 18,000 Confederates.\nThe Union army had lost the battle of Chickamauga. Still they had\nreached their objective\u2014Chattanooga. Bragg\u2019s plan was to attack the\nUnion troops in Chattanooga on the morning of the 22nd. However, this\nfailed to materialize. After some light skirmishing it was decided to\ncall off this attack due to the Union troops being too strongly\nentrenched. The Union army was still holding their line up Lookout\nMountain. Soon this line was abandoned since they realized that Bragg\nwould only have to place forces at any point below in order to have\ncontrol of the river line of supplies.\n                      REORGANIZATION OF THE ARMIES\nBoth Rosecrans and Bragg immediately started a reorganization of their\narmies. The Confederate army was divided into three corps, the commands\nbeing given to Longstreet, Hardee and Breckinridge. These three corps\nhad a total of 10 divisions. Wheeler was in command of the cavalry. On\nthe Union side, McCook and Crittenden were removed from their commands\nof the 20th and 21st Army Corps. These two corps were consolidated into\nthe 4th and Granger was given the command. The Reserve Corps which was\nformerly commanded by Granger was consolidated into the 14th Army Corps,\nMaj.-Gen. John M. Palmer, commanding. The Union army at this time had\nsix divisions, commanded by Baird, Cruft, Davis, Johnson, Sheridan and\nWood. The Artillery Reserve was commanded by Brannan. This latter force\nconsisted of two divisions, each with two brigades. Col. Parkhurst\ncommanded the Post of Chattanooga.\n    [Illustration: Ochs Memorial Observatory, Lookout Mountain]\n    [Illustration: Roper\u2019s Rock. Lookout Mountain\n    Ladder represents where the Union troops reached the top.]\n                        THE SIEGE OF CHATTANOOGA\nBragg was determined to lay siege to the city and force the Union army\ninto surrendering by starvation. While the Union army was strongly\nentrenching their positions in Chattanooga, the Confederates were\nestablishing their lines on Missionary Ridge, east of the city, and\nLookout Mountain, southwest of the city. A strong picket line was placed\nalong the river from Chattanooga Creek to a point below Williams Island,\nincluding Brown\u2019s Ferry. Another similar line was placed from just below\nthe city to a point near the mouth of the Chickamauga Creek. A skirmish\nline was thrown out about one mile in front of Missionary Ridge. A short\nrange of hills, of which Orchard Knob was the highest, was covered by\nthis skirmish line. These Confederate positions controlled all supply\nlines south of the river, which meant railroads, highway and the river\nitself. The Union army was soon in dire straits. The only route which\nwas left open was to cross the river north of the city, then cross\nWalden\u2019s Ridge or Signal Mountain; thence down the Sequatchie Valley to\nBridgeport and Stevenson. This route was about 65 miles long and most of\nit was mountainous roads. The fall rains had set in and this route was\nalmost impassable. The Union supply wagons were easy prey for the\nConfederate cavalry which had been dispatched north of the river to\nconduct raids. Wheeler captured dozens of the supply wagons, killing the\nhorses and burning the wagons. The Union base of supplies was\nNashville\u2014160 miles distant by very rough roads. Cattle were driven all\nthis distance in many instances to feed the hungry soldiers. By the time\nthe cattle reached Chattanooga (if they did not die enroute), they were\nso poor that the Union troops often remarked that they had nothing to\neat but \u201chard tack\u201d and \u201cdried beef on the hoof.\u201d To say the Union\nsoldiers were in destitute circumstances would be a mild way of\nexpressing their actual condition. Half rations, then quarter rations\nand less. At times the soldiers only had a little raw corn to eat.\nFinally it was necessary to place a sentry at the horse troughs in order\nto keep the soldiers from taking the grain which was fed to a few choice\nmounts. Even then, the Union army lost between 12,000 and 15,000 of\ntheir finest horses and mules from starvation. The troops were in a\nstarved, sickened condition, and very low in spirits. No doubt they\nthought they were doomed, and that no one would come to their rescue\nbefore they starved. However, in this surmise, to their great joy, they\nwere mistaken. It had been practically a month since their defeat at\nChickamauga, but let us review a little to see what was being done to\nrelieve this besieged army. Almost immediately after the battle of\nChickamauga, Gen. Grant started Gen. Sherman from Vicksburg with four\ndivisions (Army of the Tennessee) to the assistance of Rosecrans. These\nre-enforcements consisted of the 1st, 2nd and 4th divisions of the 15th\nArmy Corps, commanded by Brig.-Generals Peter J. Osterhaus, Morgan L.\nSmith and Hugh Ewing, respectively. Also the 2nd division of the 17th\nArmy Corps, commanded by Brig.-Gen. John E. Smith. Thirteen brigades\nwere represented by Sherman\u2019s re-enforcements.\n    [Illustration: Steamboat Being Warped Through \u201cThe Suck\u201d Before the\n    Dam at Hale\u2019s Bar was built in the Tennessee]\nA detachment from the Army of the Potomac consisting of the 11th and\n12th Army Corps, commanded by Maj.-Gen. Joseph Hooker, were sent from\nVirginia to help lift the siege. The 11th corps was commanded by\nMaj.-Gen. O. W. Howard. Howard had the 2nd and 3rd divisions, commanded\nby Brig.-Gen. Adolph von Steinwehr and Maj.-Gen. Carl Schurz,\nrespectively. The 12th corps, commanded by Maj.-Gen. Henry W. Slocum,\nhad the 1st and 2nd divisions, commanded by Brig.-Generals Alpheus S.\nWilliams and John W. Geary, respectively. Twelve brigades were\nrepresented by Hooker\u2019s re-enforcements. Hooker\u2019s troops left Virginia\non September 25th. These troops came by the B. and O. Railroad via\nIndianapolis, Louisville, Nashville and Bridgeport. The advance of this\ncolumn reached Bridgeport September 30th. They were supposed to have\nhelped to reopen the Tennessee River the next day. This was impossible\ndue to his supply trains not being here at that time. Rosecrans had\ndevised a plan whereby the river supply line could be opened up. His\nplan was to seize Brown\u2019s Ferry from Chattanooga, and bring Hooker\nforward into Lookout Valley at the same time. The execution of this plan\nonly awaited completion of pontoon-boats for the necessary bridge. When\nthey were ready, Wheeler made another raid north of the river, delaying\nthe Union troops again. The date for the execution of this movement was\nthen set for October 19th. On this date Rosecrans personally selected\nthe site for throwing the bridge. It has been reported that Rosecrans\nrowed a boat himself. When he returned to his headquarters he found\norders relieving him, and placing Thomas in command. On October 23rd,\nGen. Grant arrived in Chattanooga. He approved of Rosecrans\u2019 plan and\nordered it executed at once. Thomas at once repeated Rosecrans\u2019 order to\nHooker, ordering him forward into Lookout Valley. Hooker\u2019s supply trains\nreached him October 26th. He left Bridgeport on the 27th, reaching\nBrown\u2019s Ferry the next day. In the meantime, during the night of the\n26th, a part of two Union brigades marched across Moccasin Point,\nconcealing themselves near Brown\u2019s Ferry. About 3:00 A. M. of the 27th,\nthere were 50 pontoon-boats placed in the Tennessee River, each carrying\n30 men. These boats floated down the river under cover of darkness,\nrounding Moccasin Point unobserved by the Confederate pickets. By a\nquick crossing from the north bank to the south bank, they took the\nConfederates by surprise and soon captured this position. The\npontoon-boats were then leashed together, forming a bridge across the\nriver. At this time the troops which had marched to this point crossed\nand joined the others on the south bank.\n    [Illustration: Military Bridge, Tennessee River, 1863]\nAfter Hooker\u2019s arrival in Lookout Valley during the afternoon of the\n28th, Geary\u2019s division stopped at Wauhatchie, four miles below the\nnorthern point of Lookout Mountain. This was at a junction of the\nNashville and Trenton railroads. Generals Bragg and Longstreet stood on\nLookout and witnessed their arrival. About midnight Geary was attacked\nby Jenkins\u2019 division of Longstreet\u2019s corps. The battle lasted until\nabout 3:30 A. M. Geary was reinforced by two brigades commanded by\nTyndale and Orland Smith. Then the Confederates withdrew across Lookout\nCreek and onto the northern slopes of Lookout Mountain. This battle gave\nthe Union army complete control of all short supply lines. The\nConfederates never made any further effort to regain control of this\nshort route. The starving troops in Chattanooga were hurriedly refitted\nand Grant was only awaiting the arrival of Sherman before attacking the\nConfederates in their strong positions. Meanwhile, the Confederates were\nstill clinging to their positions with the utmost confidence in holding\nthem. On November 4th, Longstreet was sent to Knoxville to oppose Gen.\nBurnside. His command constituted about one-third of the Confederates.\nNaturally his departure shattered the Confederate hope.\nOn November 18th, Sherman arrived at Trenton. He moved to Brown\u2019s Ferry\nat once, crossing three of his divisions commanded by M. L. Smith, Ewing\nand J. E. Smith.\nOsterhaus was unable to cross his division due to the breaking of the\nbridge. He was then ordered to report to Hooker, which he did at once.\nFrom November 21st to the 23rd, Sherman was in a concealed camp behind\nStringer\u2019s Ridge, and near north Chickamauga Creek. His troops floated\npontoon boats down this stream into the Tennessee River. From the north\nside of the river Sherman selected a high hill on the south bank which\nhe thought was the north end of Missionary Ridge.\n                      GEN. GRANT\u2019S PLAN OF BATTLE\nGrant had ordered an attack against the Confederates on the 21st. Due to\nbad roads, Sherman was unable to reach here by that time. When the\nbattle did open on the 23rd, it was not according to plan. Under Grant\u2019s\noriginal plan, Hooker was to hold Lookout Valley with Geary\u2019s and\nCruft\u2019s divisions. The 11th corps was to be brought into Chattanooga to\nassist either Sherman or Thomas. Sherman was to cross the river at the\nmouth of the Chickamauga Creek during the night of the 23rd, and carry\nMissionary Ridge as far south as the tunnel, which at this time was not\noccupied by the Confederates. When Sherman reached this position, Thomas\nwas to move to the left, connect with Sherman\u2019s right, sweep up the\nvalley and crowd the Confederates from their depot at Chickamauga\nStation, Tennessee, their communications and positions on the ridge. The\nbattle did not progress as planned.\n                        CAPTURE OF ORCHARD KNOB\nOn November 23rd, reports reached Grant\u2019s headquarters to the effect\nthat Confederates had been seen retreating from Missionary Ridge. This\nwas Buckner\u2019s Corps leaving for Knoxville to assist Longstreet. Grant at\nonce ordered an attack against Orchard Knob, the outpost of the\nConfederates in front of Missionary Ridge. Thomas, with five divisions,\ncharged out against this position, soon capturing it. The Confederate\npickets moved back to the base of the ridge. Grant then established his\nfield headquarters at this newly acquired point immediately, where the\nentire Confederate line could be seen.\n                       BATTLE OF LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN\nHooker\u2019s command had been assigned to Thomas who had obtained permission\nfor Hooker to make a demonstration against the left of the Confederate\nline on Lookout Mountain. During the night of the 23rd, Sherman crossed\nthe Tennessee River near the present site of the Chickamauga Dam. He\nreached the hill he had selected before crossing. He made no effort to\ndislodge the Confederates during the 24th. His position was not on the\nnorth end of the ridge as he thought it to be. A deep ravine separated\nhim from the main north end of the ridge. From this position, the\nConfederates could be seen to the south. Early on the morning of the\n24th, Hooker left Wauhatchie, moving northward to within two miles of\nthe point of the mountain. His troops climbed the slopes to the foot of\nthe palisades, made a march northward until they were near the point.\nThey were then joined by Osterhaus\u2019 division which came directly up the\nnorthern slopes of the mountain. They were met with a sharp volley of\nfire from the Confederates as they emerged from the woods. The\nConfederates had two entrenched lines running from the foot of the\ncliffs to the river. They were driven out of the first line into an open\nfield\u2014the Craven\u2019s farm. Here the fighting was desperate and the\ncasualties were very heavy. The Craven\u2019s house was used as the\nConfederate headquarters. The Confederates withdrew to their second line\nof entrenchments. While in this latter position the battle ended. The\nsharp-shooters and the two Confederate batteries on top were of little\nvalue during the battle. The Union soldiers never reached the top of the\nmountain during the battle, nor did they make any effort to. Therefore,\nthere was no fighting on top of the mountain. It was so foggy during the\nday that the artillerymen or sharpshooters on the top were unable to see\nthe troops on the slopes. The artillery could not have been depressed\nsufficiently to reach the Union troops at the foot of the cliffs\u2014almost\ndirectly under them. It was the troops on top that nicknamed this battle\nthe \u201cBattle Above the Clouds.\u201d The Confederates were outnumbered at\nleast four to one during this battle. They were in danger of being\nsurrounded, so during the night Bragg ordered the withdrawal of all\ntroops from the top, the slopes and Chattanooga Valley. By daylight of\nthe 25th, all of the Confederates were on Missionary Ridge to strengthen\nand prolong their lines at that point.\nThe withdrawal of the Confederates from Lookout Mountain left the Union\nforces in complete control of this point. At sunrise on the morning of\nthe 25th, there were volunteers from the 96th Illinois and 8th Kentucky\nInfantry who scaled the rock palisades and reached the top of the\nmountain. They moved to the extreme northern point where they planted\ntheir flag of victory. A series of stairways has been erected to mark\nthe exact route by which these Union troops climbed out on top of the\nmountain.\n                     THE BATTLE OF MISSIONARY RIDGE\nAt this time Sherman was in position to attack the right end of the\nConfederate line. Thomas was in front of the center and Hooker was\nopposite the left end. About 7:30 A. M., Sherman opened the battle\nagainst the right end with heavy artillery fire. The Confederates of\nCleburne\u2019s, Stevenson\u2019s and Cheatham\u2019s divisions were so strongly\nentrenched that he was unable to drive them from their positions. About\n10:30, Hooker was ordered forward across the Chattanooga Valley to\nattack the left end. The Confederates had destroyed the bridge across\nChattanooga Creek and Hooker was delayed at least three hours in\nreaching Rossville. He then moved via Rossville Gap against the\nConfederate left. While these movements were being carried out by\nSherman and Hooker, Thomas was to charge out against the Confederate\nrifle pits at the base of the ridge. With this latter movement it was\nthought the Confederates would be drawn toward the center from both\nends, thereby giving Sherman and Hooker more chance of success toward\nturning the ends. Some of Hooker\u2019s troops crossed to the east side of\nthe ridge; some moved along the crest, and others remained on the west\nside of the ridge. At 3:30 P. M., Thomas, with the troops which had\ncarried Orchard Knob on the 23rd, charged out against the Confederate\nrifle pits. After a short battle, the Confederates started their retreat\nup the ridge. Thomas\u2019 men pursued without orders, both the Union and\nConfederate troops reaching the crest of the ridge about the same time.\nThe Confederate artillery on top of the ridge was forced to fire high\nsince their own troops were between their artillery and the Union forces\nwhich were following them. For at least two miles along the central\nportion of the ridge, a severe hand-to-hand battle took place. Never in\nthe entire Civil War did troops fight any harder than they did at this\npoint. The casualties were heavy on both sides. Finally, the Confederate\ncenter was broken in several places and the center and left end started\nto retreat southward. At nightfall, Bragg ordered the right of the\nConfederate line to withdraw and cover the general retreat. As the\nConfederates were retreating, it is reported that their own artillery\nwas turned upon them. The Confederates moved south via Chickamauga\nStation, Tennessee, thence to Ringgold, Georgia, where they stopped to\noffer battle again on November 27th. They retreated to Dalton, Georgia,\nwhere they went into winter quarters on December 1st. Gen. Bragg was\nremoved from his command the next day. Gen. Hardee was offered the\ncommand but declined, although he accepted temporary charge until\nDecember 16th. At that time Gen. Joseph E. Johnston assumed command\u2014a\nposition he held until July 17, 1864, when he was replaced by Gen. John\nB. Hood. The Union troops moved back to Chattanooga where they\nentrenched their position and went into winter quarters, thus\nsuccessfully ending the Chattanooga campaign. The city remained in\npossession of the Union army until the close of the war.\n    [Illustration: Confederate Battery atop Lookout Mountain]\nIt is estimated that Grant had 60,000 troops engaged in the battle of\nChattanooga. Bragg had approximately 40,000 troops. Of the 60,000 Union\ntroops, Sherman had 28,000; Thomas 22,000; Hooker 10,000. The casualties\nfor the three-day battle were: Union, 5,824; Confederate, 6,667.\nAs a reward for the Union victory at the battle of Chattanooga, both\nGrant and Sherman were promoted. First, on March 9, 1864, Grant was\npromoted to the rank of Lieutenant-General. On March 12, 1864, he was\nplaced in command of all the Union forces throughout the United States.\nThe order which placed Grant in this latter position was presented to\nhim by President Lincoln. At this time Sherman was in Nashville,\nTennessee. Grant left Washington immediately to join Sherman. Before\nleaving Washington, Grant had recommended the appointment of Sherman to\nhis late position. On March 18, 1864, Sherman assumed command of the\nMilitary Division of the Mississippi\u2014Grant\u2019s former command. This\nembraced the Departments of the Ohio, Cumberland, Tennessee and Arkansas\ncommanded by Major-Generals Schofield, Thomas, McPherson and Steele,\nrespectively. Grant left Nashville on the night of the 18th, going east\nto take over his new command. He was accompanied by Sherman as far as\nCincinnati in order that they might discuss some private details as to\nfuture plans. Sherman returned to Nashville on March 25th. On April\n28th, Sherman moved his headquarters to Chattanooga. On May 5th, Sherman\nleft Chattanooga on the Atlanta Campaign. The movement of his army\nfollowed the exact route which Highway No. 41 follows today from\nChattanooga to Atlanta, with battles and skirmishes all along the way.\nAfter the fall of Atlanta on September 2, 1864, Sherman made final\npreparations for his \u201cMarch to the Sea.\u201d Leaving Atlanta November 16th,\nhis army moved southward to Savannah, the Union forces entering this\ncity December 22nd. On February 1, 1865, Sherman left Savannah on the\nCarolina Campaign which carried him through North and South Carolina. He\nthen joined Grant in Virginia, the Civil War soon came to a close.\n    [Illustration: Decorative glyph]\n             HEAVIEST REGIMENTAL LOSSES\u2014HERE AND ELSEWHERE\nAt the battle of Chickamauga, the 22nd Michigan Infantry lost 58.\nAt Lookout Mountain, the 149th N. Y. Infantry lost 10.\nAt Missionary Ridge, the 15th Indiana Infantry lost 24.\nAt the battle of Gettysburg (Pa.), the 24th Michigan Infantry (Union)\nlost 69 men, while the 26th North Carolina (Confederate) lost 86.\nAt Vicksburg (Mississippi), the 4th West Virginia, and the 22nd Iowa\n(both Union), lost 27 men each.\nDuring the Civil War, there were 10 regiments which in various battles\nlost 75 men or more. They are as follows:\n  Regiment and Battle                                    Number Killed\n  6th Alabama Infantry at Fair Oaks, Va.                       91\n  1st Maine Heavy Artillery at Petersburg, Va.                 90\n  26th North Carolina Infantry at Gettysburg, Pa.              86\n  1st South Carolina Rifles at Gains Mill, Va.                 86\n  1st Maine Heavy Artillery at Spotsylvania, Va.               81\n  8th New York Infantry at Cold Harbor, Va.                    80\n  5th New York Infantry at Manassas, Va.                       79\n  70th New York Infantry at Williamsburg, Va.                  79\n  1st Missouri Infantry (Union) at Wilson\u2019s Creek, Va.         76\n  23rd U. S. Colored at Petersburg Mine, Va.                   75\nNew York led all other states in the number of troops which they\nfurnished the Union army. The 10 leaders are as follows:\n[1]Divided states.\nThe leading Union and Confederate officers who were in the battles of\nChickamauga, or Chattanooga, or both, are as follows:\n  Gen. Ulysses S. Grant\n  Maj. Gen. William S. Rosecrans\n  Maj. Gen. William T. Sherman\n  Maj. Gen. George H. Thomas\n  Maj. Gen. Joseph Hooker\n  Maj. Gen. Gordon Granger\n  Maj. Gen. Thomas L. Crittenden\n  Maj. Gen. Alexander McD. McCook\n  Gen. Braxton Bragg\n  Lt. Gen. James Longstreet\n  Maj.-Gen. Simon B. Buckner\n  Lt. Gen. Leonidas Polk\n  Brig. Gen. John B. Hood\n  Brig. Gen. Nathan B. Forrest\n  Maj. Gen. Joseph Wheeler\n  Lt. Gen. Daniel H. Hill\nIn order that you may know where these high-ranking officers were from,\nthe following offers an accurate account:\n  1. Gen. Grant was born in Point Pleasant, Ohio, April 27, 1822.\n    Died in Mt. McGregor (near Saratoga), N. Y., July 23, 1885.\n  2. Gen. Rosecrans was born in Kingston, Ohio, Sept. 6, 1818.\n    Died in Redondo, California, March 11, 1898.\n  3. Gen. Sherman was born in Lancaster, Ohio, Feb. 8, 1820.\n    Died in New York, Feb. 14, 1891.\n  4. Gen. Thomas was born in Southhampton Co., Va., July 31, 1816.\n    Died in San Francisco, California, March 28, 1870.\n  5. Gen. Hooker was born in Hadley, Mass., Nov. 13, 1814.\n    Died in Philadelphia, Pa., Nov. 6, 1872.\n  6. Gen. Granger was born in New York, N. Y., in 1821.\n    Died in Santa Fe., New Mexico, Jan. 10, 1876.\n  7. Gen. Crittenden was born in Russellville, Ky., May 15, 1815.\n    Died in Staten Island, N. Y., Oct. 23, 1893.\n  8. Gen. McCook was born in Columbiana Co., Ohio, April 22, 1831.\n    Died in Dayton, Ohio, June 12, 1903.\n  1. Gen. Bragg was born in Warren Co., N. C., March 22, 1817.\n    Died in Galveston, Texas, Sept. 27, 1876.\n  2. Gen. Longstreet was born in Edgefield District, S. C., Jan. 8,\n    Died in Gainesville, Georgia, Jan. 2, 1904.\n  3. Gen. Hood was born in Owingsville, Ky., June 1, 1831.\n    Died in New Orleans, La., Aug. 30, 1879.\n  4. Gen. Buckner was born in Munfordville, Ky., April 1, 1823.\n    Died at same place Jan. 8, 1914.\n  5. Gen. Polk was born in Raleigh, N. C., April 10, 1806.\n    Killed by a cannon-ball on Pine Mt., near Marietta, Ga., June 14,\n  6. Gen. Forrest was born near Chapel Hill, Tenn., July 13, 1821.\n    Died in Memphis, Tenn., Oct. 29, 1877.\n  7. Gen. Wheeler was born in Augusta, Ga., Sept. 10, 1836.\n    Died in Brooklyn, N. Y., Jan. 25, 1906.\n  8. Gen. Daniel H. Hill was born in Hill\u2019s Iron Work, York District, S.\n    Died in Charlotte, N. C., Sept. 25, 1889.\nWhile there were numerous Civil War Prisons, both in the North and\nSouth, it is believed that the following were the most prominent:\n  Camp Chase               Columbus, Ohio\n  Camp Morton              Indianapolis, Indiana\n  Elmira Prison Barracks   Elmira, New York\n  Fort Delaware            In Delaware River\n  Fort Lafayette           New York, N. Y.\n  Fort McHenry             Baltimore, Maryland\n  Andersonville Prison     Andersonville, Georgia\n  Libby Prison             Richmond, Virginia\n  Belle Isle               In James River\u2014Near Richmond, Va.\n  Camp Lawton              Millen, Georgia\n  Castle Pickney           Charleston, South Carolina\n  Camp Ford                Tyler, Texas\nThe first shot in the Civil War was fired upon the steamer \u201cStar of the\nWest\u201d off Charleston Harbor, S. C., on Jan. 9, 1861. However, this was\nmore than three months before the war officially started.\nThe Civil War started with the bombardment of Fort Sumter, S. C., at\nThe first Southern blood was shed on the streets of Baltimore, Md., on\nThe First Confederate Congress was formed in Montgomery, Ala., on Feb.\nJefferson Davis, of Mississippi, was elected President of the\nConfederacy on Feb. 9, 1861. Alexander H. Stephens of Georgia was\nelected Vice-President. The inauguration was on Feb. 18, 1861.\nPresident Lincoln freed the slaves on Sept. 22, 1862.\nThe Gatling gun was patented Nov. 4, 1862.\nThe First Colored Regiment was formed Jan. 25, 1863.\nSouth Carolina was the first state to secede; North Carolina was the\nlast. South Carolina seceded from the Union on Dec. 20, 1860. The other\nstates followed in this order: Florida on Jan. 7, 1861; Mississippi on\nJan. 9, 1861; Alabama on Jan. 11, 1861; Georgia on Jan. 19, 1861;\nLouisiana on Jan. 26, 1861; Texas on Feb. 1, 1861; Virginia on April 17,\n1861; Tennessee on May 6, 1861; Arkansas on May 18, 1861, and North\nCarolina on May 21, 1861.\nThere were more battles fought in Virginia than in any other state. It\nis reported that more than 400 battles and actions were fought there.\nThe second largest number was fought in Tennessee.\nThe most eventful \u201choliday\u201d in the Civil War was July 4, 1863. On this\nparticular date the Tullahoma Campaign ended; the Union army was\nvictorious at Gettysburg and Vicksburg fell.\nPickett\u2019s famous charge at Gettysburg was the most colorful event of the\nCivil War.\nOhio furnished almost one-third of the Union troops at the battles of\nChickamauga and Chattanooga.\nGeneral Robert E. Lee was once offered the command of all the Union\nforces in the United States, but he declined the offer.\nGen. Albert Sidney Johnston, one of the South\u2019s ablest commanders,\nresigned the Colonelcy of the 2nd U. S. Cavalry to enter the service of\nthe Confederacy. Gen. Johnston was killed at the Battle of Shiloh.\nThere were approximately 87,000 men who hired their fighting done. This\nnumber, whom were drafted, paid commutation and were exempted from\nservice.\nThere were almost an even 100,000 of the U. S. Colored Troops whom were\nrecruited from the Confederate States.\nAbout 250 of the Regular U. S. Volunteers were ex-Confederate soldiers.\nAll of the Confederate States had troops in the Union Army. The data\nbelow will furnish proof of this statement:\nAlabama\u20141 Regiment Heavy Artillery; 2 Regiments of Cavalry; 1 Co. of\n      Cavalry; 2 Regiments of Infantry.\nArkansas\u20142 Batteries of Light Artillery; 4 Regiments of Cavalry; 1 Co.\n      of Cavalry; 1 Infantry Battalion; 1 Co. of Infantry; 9 Regiments\n      of Infantry.\nFlorida\u20141 Battery of Light Artillery; 3 Regiments of Cavalry; 1 Co. of\n      Infantry.\nGeorgia\u20141 Infantry Battalion.\nLouisiana\u20141 Regiment of Heavy Artillery; 1 Battery of Light Artillery; 4\n      Regiments of Light Artillery; 1 Co. of Cavalry; 3 Regiments of\n      Cavalry; 18 Regiments of Infantry.\nMississippi\u20142 Regiments of Heavy Artillery; 2 Regiments of Cavalry; 2\n      Cos. of Cavalry; 9 Regiments of Infantry.\nNorth Carolina\u20141 Regiment of Heavy Artillery; 7 Regiments of Infantry.\nSouth Carolina\u20145 Regiments of Infantry (all Colored).\nTexas\u20141 Battalion of Cavalry; 2 Regiments of Cavalry; 3 Cos. of\n      Infantry.\nVirginia\u20141 Battalion of Cavalry; 1 Regiment of Infantry; 1 Co. of\n      Infantry.\nThere were four states which were considered \u201cdivided\u201d states, namely:\nTennessee, Kentucky, Missouri and Maryland. Tennessee furnished more\nConfederate troops than Union troops. The others furnished more Union\ntroops than Confederates.\nThe highest regimental number of the Civil War was furnished by the\nState of Pennsylvania, being the 215th. Ohio was second with 197: New\nYork third with 193, while Illinois and Indiana tied for fourth place\nwith 156 each.\nWest Point Academy was founded on March 16, 1802.\nThe U. S. Naval Academy opened October 10, 1845.\nThe Mexican War started on March 28, 1846.\nThe most daring and useless episode of the Civil War was performed by\nAndrews and his raiders when they stole the engine \u201cGeneral.\u201d This feat,\nif it had been carried out in detail, would only have been temporary.\nThe tearing up of railroad bridges and the destruction of communication\nlines was almost daily routine at one place or another. This historic\nengine is now on display at the Union railroad station, Ninth and Broad\nStreets, Chattanooga, Tennessee.\nThe Chattanooga National Cemetery is the oldest National Cemetery in the\nUnited States. There are soldiers buried in this cemetery as a result of\nevery war the United States has ever participated in, beginning with the\nRevolutionary War.\nThere are no Confederate soldiers buried in any National Cemetery. They\nare buried in Confederate cemeteries or elsewhere. Two such cemeteries\nare located in, and near Chattanooga. One is located on E. Third Street,\nadjoining the Jewish Cemetery. The other is located on U. S. Highways\nNo. 11 and 64 at Silverdale, about 10 miles northeast of Chattanooga.\nPractically all of the Union and Confederate soldiers who were killed at\nChickamauga were buried on that battlefield for a period of about three\nmonths. The troops were buried in separate trenches. Then they were\nremoved. The Union soldiers were re-buried in the National Cemetery in\nChattanooga. The Confederates were taken to Marietta, Georgia, where\nthey were reburied in the Confederate Cemetery.\n    [Illustration: General Wilder\u2019s Monument, Chickamauga Battlefield]\n    [Illustration: View of Lover\u2019s Leap, Rock City Gardens, atop Lookout\n    Mountain]\nThe last battle of the Civil War was fought near Palo Alto, Texas, on\nMay 13, 1865, more than a month after Lee\u2019s surrender at Appomattox.\nCol. Barrett commanded the Union troops; Gen. Slaughter the Confederate.\nThis battle resulted in a Confederate victory.\n                     HISTORIC SITES IN CHATTANOOGA\nThere are numerous headquarters sites in Chattanooga today which were\nvery prominent during the Civil War. In order that you may know the\nexact location of these sites, they are as follows:\nThe headquarters of Gen. U. S. Grant and his successor, Gen. William T.\nSherman, is a frame house located at 110 East First Street, between\nWalnut and Cherry streets.\nThe northeast corner of Fourth and Walnut streets marks the headquarters\nof Gen. James A. Garfield, Chief of Staff to Gen. Rosecrans, and Gen.\nJoseph J. Reynolds, Chief of Staff to Gen. Thomas.\nUpon first occupation of Chattanooga by Union troops, Brig. Gen. George\nD. Wagner established headquarters at 407 East Fifth Street. There is a\nshort post erected at this address to mark the site.\nFort Sheridan was located at 1219 East Terrace. A shell pyramid has been\nerected at this site.\nThe Standpipe of the City Water Company of Chattanooga marks the center\nof Fort Wood.\nA short post at 502 East Fifth Street marks the location of Lunette\nO\u2019Meara.\nFort Milhalotzy was located on Cameron Hill. A stone gate post at 221\nBoynton Terrace marks the exact location.\nBrig. Gen. Thomas J. Wood, U. S. V., commanding the 3rd and 4th Army\nCorps, had his headquarters at 504 Vine Street, where a short post is\ntoday.\nThe site of Fort Phelps (Negley) which was begun by the Confederates as\nFort Cheatham is located at 1706 Read Avenue.\nMaj. Gen. Joseph Wheeler, C. S. A., commanding Cavalry Corps, had his\nheadquarters at 515 Douglas Street.\nAt 309 West Sixth Street you will see a long post which marks the\nheadquarters of Lt. Gen. Daniel C. Hill, C. S. A., command corps, and\nlater this same site was used by Maj. Gen. John M. Palmer, U. S. V.,\ncommanding 14th Army Corps, Army of the Cumberland.\nMaj. Gen. John C. Breckinridge, C. S. A., commanding a division, had his\nheadquarters at 415 Poplar Street.\nBattery Smartt, Confederate work of Cheatham\u2019s division, was located at\n10 Bluff View, where a concrete post has been erected.\nGen. Bragg\u2019s headquarters in 1862 were at 407 East Fifth Street.\nThe southeast corner of Fifth and Walnut streets is the Signal Hill site\nof Redoubt Putnam, south salient of Fort Sherman.\nThe Crutchfield House was located where the Ninth Street entrance to the\nRead House is today.\nThe 10th Ohio Volunteer Infantry was camped at 654 Houston Street.\nIncidentally, this is where the first shell fired from Lookout Mountain\nexploded.\nThe Custom House lawn on East Eleventh Street marks the location of\nRedoubt Jones\u2019 (Hazen) headquarters.\nBattery Bushnell was located at the northeast corner of Battery Place\nand Linsay streets.\nBrig. Gen. John M. Brannan, Chief of Artillery, Army of the Cumberland,\nhad his headquarters at 302 Walnut Street.\nBrig. Gen. Absalom Baird, U. S. V., commanding 14th Army Corps, was\nlocated on the south side of West Ninth Street, between East Terrace and\nCedar Streets. A long post at this address marks the site.\nThe College building which accommodated 100 wounded soldiers was located\non the northeast corner West Eleventh and Cedar streets.\n    ORGANIZATION OF THE UNION AND CONFEDERATE ARMIES AT CHICKAMAUGA\nThe Army of the Cumberland (Union) commanded by Maj. Gen. William S.\nRosecrans, consisted of the following:\n  14th Army Corps       Maj. Gen. George H. Thomas\n  20th Army Corps       Maj. Gen. Alexander McD. McCook\n  21st Army Corps       Maj. Gen. Thomas L. Crittenden\n  Cavalry Corps         Brig. Gen. Robert B. Mitchell\n  Reserve Corps         Maj. Gen. Gordon Granger\n  Thomas had 4 divisions, commanded by Baird, Negley, Brannan and\n    Baird had 3 brigades, commanded by Scribner, Starkweather and John\n    Negley had 3 brigades, commanded by John Beatty, Stanley and\n    Brannan had 3 brigades, commanded by Connell, Croxton and Van\n    Reynolds had 3 brigades, commanded by Wilder, Edward A. King and\n  McCook had 3 divisions, commanded by Jefferson C. Davis, Richard W.\n              Johnson and Sheridan.\n    Davis had 3 brigades, commanded by Post, Carlin and Heg.\n    Johnson had 3 brigades, commanded by Willich, Dodge and Baldwin.\n    Sheridan had 3 brigades, commanded by Lytle, Laiboldt and Bradley.\n  Crittenden had 3 divisions, commanded by Thomas J. Wood, Palmer and\n    Wood had 3 brigades, commanded by Geo. P. Buell, Wagner and Harker.\n    Palmer had 3 brigades, commanded by Cruft, Hazen and Gross.\n    Van Cleve had 3 brigades, commanded by Sam Beatty, Dick and Barnes.\n  Granger had 1 division, commanded by Steedman, consisting of 2\n              brigades, commanded by Whitaker and Mitchell. The 2nd\n              brigade of Morgan\u2019s division commanded by Daniel McCook,\n              also participated in the battle.\n  Mitchell had 2 divisions, commanded by Edward M. McCook and Crook.\n    McCook had 3 brigades, commanded by Campbell, Ray and Watkins.\n    Crook had 2 brigades, commanded by Minty and Long.\nOf these 38 brigades, 36 were engaged. Post\u2019s brigade was guarding\nsupply trains. Wagner\u2019s brigade was stationed at Chattanooga during the\nbattle. Wilder\u2019s brigade was detached and serving as mounted infantry.\nThere were two regiments not engaged. The 9th Michigan Infantry and the\n38th Ohio Infantry were guarding trains and performing Provost Duty. The\n39th Indiana Infantry also served as mounted infantry (being detached).\nThe Army of Tennessee, commanded by Gen. Braxton Bragg, consisted of the\nfollowing:\n  Buckner\u2019s Corps\n  Hill\u2019s Corps\n  Longstreet\u2019s (Hood\u2019s) Corps\n  Polk\u2019s Corps\n  Walker\u2019s (Reserve) Corps\n  Forrest\u2019s (Cavalry) Corps\n  Wheeler\u2019s (Cavalry) Corps\n  Buckner had 2 divisions, commanded by Stewart and Preston.\n    Stewart had 3 brigades, commanded by Bates, Clayton and Brown.\n    Preston had 3 brigades, commanded by Gracie, Trigg and Kelly.\n  Hill had 2 divisions, commanded by Cleburne and Breckinridge.\n    Cleburne had 3 brigades, commanded by Wood, Polk and Deshler.\n    Breckinridge had 3 brigades, commanded by Helm, Adams and Stovall.\n  Longstreet had 3 divisions, commanded by McLaws, Hood and Johnson.\n    McLaw\u2019s had 4 brigades, commanded by Kershaw, Wofford, Humphreys and\n    Hood had 5 brigades, commanded by Jenkins, Law, Robertson,\n              Anderson-Benning.\n    Johnson had 3 brigades, commanded by Gregg, McNair and Johnson.\n  Polk had 2 divisions, commanded by Cheatham and Hindman.\n    Cheatham had 5 brigades, commanded by Jackson, Maney, Smith, Wright\n    Hindman had 3 brigades, commanded by Anderson, Deas and Manigault.\n  Walker had 2 divisions, commanded by Gist and Liddell.\n    Gist had 3 brigades, commanded by Colquitt, Ector and Wilson.\n    Liddell had 2 brigades, commanded by Govan and Walthall.\n  Forrest had 2 divisions, commanded by Armstrong and Pegram.\n    Armstrong had 2 brigades, commanded by James T. Wheeler and Dibrell.\n    Pegram had 2 brigades, commanded by Davidson and Scott.\n  Wheeler had 2 divisions, commanded by Wharton and Martin.\n    Wharton had 2 brigades, commanded by Crews and Harrison.\n    Martin had 2 brigades, commanded by Morgan and Russell.\n    [Illustration: Point Park on Lookout Mountain is easily reached by\n    well paved highways.]\n    [Illustration: The Old Man of the Mountain\u2014Natural Rock, Lookout\n    Mountain]\nOf a total of 47 brigades (including 2 artillery brigades), 43 of them\nwere engaged. Bryan, Wofford and Jenkins did not arrive in time for\nbattle. Longstreet\u2019s Artillery Corps failed to arrive in time for the\nbattle.\nComplete index of the Union and Confederate troops who participated in\nthe battles of Chickamauga, Chattanooga, or both.\nInfantry\u20145th and 20th.\nInfantry\u201410th, 13th, 16th, 19th, 21st, 22nd, 24th, 25th, 26th, 27th,\nArtillery\u2014Batteries, A, B, C, F, H, I, M, of 1st Illinois Light\n      Artillery.\nBattery \u201cI\u201d of 2nd Illinois Light Artillery.\nBridges\u2019 Battery of Illinois Light Artillery.\nChicago Board of Trade Battery.\nCogswell\u2019s Illinois Battery.\nCavalry\u2014Co. K, 15th Illinois Cavalry.\nInfantry\u20146th, 9th, 10th, 12th, 15th, 17th, 22nd, 27th, 29th, 30th, 31st,\nArtillery\u20144th, 5th, 7th, 8th, 10th, 11th, 18th, 19th, 21st, Batteries of\n      Indiana Light Artillery.\nCavalry\u20142nd, 3rd, 4th.\nInfantry\u20144th, 5th, 6th, 9th, 10th, 17th, 25th, 26th, 30th, 31st.\nArtillery\u20141st Battery of Iowa Light Artillery.\nInfantry\u20148th.\nInfantry\u20141st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, 6th, 8th, 9th, 10th, 15th, 17th, 18th,\nCavalry\u20142nd, 4th, 5th, 6th.\nInfantry\u20141st Battalion 10th Infantry.\nInfantry\u20143rd.\nInfantry\u20142nd, 33rd.\nInfantry\u20149th, 10th, 11th, 13th, 14th, 15th, 21st, 22nd.\n1st Michigan Engineers.\nCavalry\u20142nd, 4th.\nArtillery\u2014Batteries \u201cA\u201d and \u201cD\u201d of 1st Light Artillery.\nInfantry\u20142nd, 4th.\nArtillery\u20142nd Battery of Minnesota Light Artillery.\nInfantry\u20142nd, 3rd, 6th, 8th, 10th, 12th, 15th, 17th, 24th, 26th, 27th,\nArtillery\u2014Batteries \u201cD\u201d and \u201cG\u201d of 1st Light Artillery. Battery \u201cF\u201d of\n      2nd Light Artillery.\nInfantry\u201413th, 33rd.\nInfantry\u20148th (Independent Co.), 45th, 58th, 60th, 68th, 78th, 102nd,\nArtillery\u2014Battery \u201cI\u201d of 1st Light Artillery. 13th Battery of Light\n      Artillery.\nInfantry\u20141st, 2nd, 3rd, 5th, 6th, 7th, 9th, 10th, 11th, 13th, 14th,\n      Battalion Sharpshooters.\nArtillery\u2014Batteries A, B, C, D, E, F, G, I, K, M, of 1st Ohio Light\n      Artillery. 4th, 6th, 18th, 20th Batteries of Ohio Light Artillery.\nCavalry\u20141st, 3rd, 4th, 10th.\nInfantry\u201427th, 28th, 29th, 46th, 73rd, 75th, 77th, 78th, 79th, 109th,\nArtillery\u2014Batteries \u201cB\u201d and \u201cE\u201d of Pennsylvania Light Artillery.\nBattery \u201cB\u201d of 26th Pennsylvania Independent Artillery.\nCavalry\u20147th, 9th, 15th.\nInfantry\u20144th.\nInfantry\u20141st, 3rd, 10th, 15th, 18th, 21st, 24th, 26th.\nArtillery\u20143rd, 5th, 6th, 8th, 10th, 12th, Batteries of Light Artillery.\nCompany \u201cC\u201d of 1st Heavy Artillery.\nCavalry\u20141st.\nArtillery\u2014Battery \u201cA\u201d of 1st Tennessee Light Artillery.\nCavalry\u20141st, 2nd.\nInfantry\u201415th, 16th, 18th, 19th.\n1st Battalion of 13th.\nArtillery\u2014Batteries G, H, I, M of 4th U. S. Artillery.\nBatteries H and K of 5th U. S. Artillery.\nCavalry\u20144th.\nInfantry\u20144th, 14th, 15th, 16th, 17th, 18th, 19th, 20th, 22nd, 23rd,\n      58th. 17th Battalion Sharpshooters; 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th Alabama\n      Battalions; 18th Alabama Battalion; Hilliard\u2019s Legion; Stone\u2019s\n      Battalion Sharpshooters.\nCavalry\u20141st, 3rd, 4th, 5th, 51st, 53rd, Holloway\u2019s Company Alabama\n      Cavalry; Lenoir\u2019s Company Alabama Cavalry; Malone\u2019s Regiment\n      Alabama Cavalry; Moreland\u2019s Battalion Alabama Cavalry.\nArtillery\u2014Dent\u2019s Eufaula\u2019s, Fowler\u2019s, Garrity\u2019s, Kolb\u2019s, Lumsden\u2019s,\n      Oliver\u2019s, Semple\u2019s and Water\u2019s Alabama Batteries.\nInfantry\u20141st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th, 13th, 15th, 19th, 24th,\n4th Arkansas Battalion; 1st and 2nd Arkansas Mounted Rifles.\nCavalry\u20143rd.\nArtillery\u2014Calvert\u2019s, Humphrey\u2019s, Wiggins\u2019 Arkansas Batteries.\nInfantry\u20141st, 3rd, 4th, 6th, 7th.\nCavalry\u20141st (Dismounted).\nArtillery\u2014McCant\u2019s Florida Battery.\nInfantry\u20141st Georgia (Confederate), 2nd, 5th, 7th, 8th, 9th, 10th, 11th,\n      53rd, 56th, 59th, 65th. 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th and 8th Battalions\n      Sharpshooters; 26th Georgia Battalion: Cobbs\u2019s and Phillip\u2019s\n      Legion; 1st, 3rd, 5th, 8th and 10th Confederates.\nCavalry\u20141st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 6th.\nArtillery\u2014Corput\u2019s, Dawson\u2019s, Ferrell\u2019s, Havis\u2019, Howell\u2019s, Massenburg\u2019s,\n      Peeple\u2019s, Rowan\u2019s, Scogins\u2019, Wolihin\u2019s, York\u2019s Georgia Batteries.\n    [Illustration: THE \u201cGENERAL\u201d\n    It was stolen by Andrews\u2019 Raiders. Now in Union Station,\n    Chattanooga, Tennessee]\n                         Kentucky (Confederate)\nInfantry\u20142nd, 4th, 5th, 6th, 9th. John H. Morgan\u2019s dismounted men.\nCavalry\u20141st, 2nd, 3rd, 9th. Clay\u2019s, Jessee\u2019s, Johnson\u2019s Battalions\n      Cavalry.\nArtillery\u2014Cobb\u2019s and Graves\u2019 Kentucky Batteries.\nInfantry\u20141st (Regulars), 13th, 16th, 19th, 20th, 25th. 4th and 14th\n      Battalions Sharpshooters.\nCavalry\u20141st. Dreux\u2019s and Greenleaf\u2019s Company Louisiana Cavalry.\nArtillery\u2014LeGardeur\u2019s, Moody\u2019s, Robinson\u2019s (1 section), Slocomb\u2019s\n      Louisiana Batteries.\nInfantry\u20145th, 7th, 8th, 9th, 10th, 13th, 17th, 18th, 21st, 24th, 27th,\n      29th, 30th, 32nd, 34th, 41st, 44th, 45th. Pound\u2019s Battalion\n      Sharpshooters; 9th and 15th Battalions Sharpshooters.\nCavalry\u2014Foule\u2019s Company Mississippi Cavalry.\nArtillery\u2014Darden\u2019s, Smith\u2019s, Standford\u2019s, Sweet\u2019s, Mississippi\n      Batteries.\nWarren\u2019s Battery of Mississippi Light Artillery.\n                         Missouri (Confederate)\nInfantry\u2014None.\nCavalry\u2014None.\nArtillery\u2014Barret\u2019s and Bledsoe\u2019s Missouri Batteries.\nInfantry\u201429th, 39th, 58th, 60th.\nCavalry\u20146th.\nArtillery\u2014None.\nInfantry\u20141st, 2nd, 3rd, 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th, 10th, 15th, 16th, 19th,\n3rd Battalion; 2nd South Carolina Rifles; Hampton\u2019s Legion; Palmetto\n      Sharpshooters.\nCavalry\u2014None.\nArtillery\u2014Culpepper\u2019s, Ferguson\u2019s, Fickling\u2019s, James\u2019 South Carolina\n      Batteries.\n                        Tennessee (Confederate)\nInfantry\u20141st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, 6th, 8th, 9th, 10th, 11th, 12th, 13th,\n      1st and 23rd Tennessee Battalions; Murray\u2019s Tennessee Battalions;\n      3rd and 4th Provisional Army; 24th Battalion Sharpshooters;\n      Dawson\u2019s Battalion Sharpshooters; 3rd, 4th, 5th, 6th, 9th\n      Confederates.\nCavalry\u20141st, 2nd, 4th, 5th, 6th, 8th, 9th, 10th, 11th. Clark\u2019s,\n      Jackson\u2019s, Sanders\u2019 Company Tennessee Cavalry; Hamilton\u2019s and\n      Shaw\u2019s Tennessee Battalions; Allison\u2019s Tennessee Squadron; 12th,\n      16th and 18th Battalions; Rucker\u2019s Legion.\nArtillery\u2014Baxter\u2019s, Carnes\u2019, Huggins\u2019, Huwald\u2019s, Marshall\u2019s, Mebane\u2019s,\n      Morton\u2019s, Scott\u2019s and White\u2019s Tennessee Batteries.\nInfantry\u20141st, 4th, 5th, 6th, 7th, 9th, 10th.\nCavalry\u20148th, 10th, 11th, 14th, 15th, 17th, 18th, 24th, 25th, 32nd.\n      (10th, 14th, 15th, 17th, 32nd dismounted\u2014serving as infantry).\nArtillery\u2014Douglas\u2019 Texas Battery.\nInfantry\u201454th, 63rd.\nCavalry\u2014Edmundson\u2019s Battalion Cavalry.\nArtillery\u2014Jeffress\u2019, Jordan\u2019s, Parker\u2019s, Taylor\u2019s and Woolfolk\u2019s\n      Virginia Batteries.\nNOTE: Copies of this Booklet will be mailed direct, postpaid, upon\n      receipt of 50 cents to\u2014\n                         CHATTANOOGA, TENNESSEE\n    [Illustration: Lookout Mountain Incline. The world\u2019s largest,\n    safest, steepest passenger Incline. A direct route to beautiful\n    Point Park, the outstanding feature on Lookout Mountain.]\n         MILEAGE AND ROUTE INFORMATION FROM CHATTANOOGA, TENN.\n  Cedar Rapids, Ia.             762  Via St. Louis 61-218\n  Jacksonville, Fla.            444  41-341-23 or Atlanta 23\n  New Haven, Conn.              922  New York\u20141\n  Salt Lake City, Utah          839  St. Louis\u201440-24-40\n  Toronto, Ontario              839  Detroit\u2014Canada 2-5\n\u2014Silently corrected a few typos.\n\u2014Retained publication information from the printed edition: this eBook\n  is public-domain in the country of publication.\n\u2014In the text versions only, text in italics is delimited by\n  _underscores_.\nEnd of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Civil War Battles of Chickamauga\nand Chattanooga, by Jesse Littleton Rogers\n*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CIVIL WAR BATTLES ***\n***** This file should be named 62977-0.txt or 62977-0.zip *****\nThis and all associated files of various formats will be found in:\nProduced by Stephen Hutcheson and the Online Distributed\nProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net\nUpdated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will\nbe renamed.\nCreating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright\nlaw means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works,\nso the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United\nStates without permission and without paying copyright\nroyalties. 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{"source_document": "", "creation_year": 1937, "culture": " English\n", "content": "Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed\nFAMOUS FLYERS AND THEIR FAMOUS FLIGHTS\nBy\nCAPT. J. J. GRAYSON\n[Illustration]\nTHE WORLD SYNDICATE PUBLISHING COMPANY\nCleveland, Ohio \u2014 New York, N. Y.\n  Copyright\n  THE WORLD SYNDICATE PUB. CO.\n  _Printed in the United States of America_\n  by\n  THE COMMERCIAL BOOKBINDING CO.\n  CLEVELAND, O.\nCONTENTS PAGE\n  CHAPTER I\u2014Exciting News\n  CHAPTER II\u2014Captain Bill\n  CHAPTER III\u2014The Wright Brothers\n  CHAPTER IV\u2014Some War Heroes\n  CHAPTER V\u2014The Eagle\n  CHAPTER VI\u2014More About The Eagle\n  CHAPTER VII\u2014A Close Shave\n  CHAPTER VIII\u2014North Pole and South\n  CHAPTER IX\u2014Four Women Flyers\n  CHAPTER X\u2014Hawks and Doolittle\n  CHAPTER XI\u2014Hal Comes Through\nFAMOUS FLYERS\nAND THEIR FAMOUS FLIGHTS\nCHAPTER I\u2014Exciting News\nBob Martin stood outside the large red brick house and whistled. He\nwhistled three notes, a long and two short, which meant to Hal Gregg\ninside that Bob wanted to see him, and to see him quickly. Something was\nup. At least, that was what it should have meant to Hal, but evidently\nit didn\u2019t, because no answering whistle came out to Bob, and no head\nappeared in any of the windows.\nBob whistled again, this time a little more shrilly, and he kept on\nwhistling until a pale, spectacled face appeared at an upstairs window.\nThe window was thrown open, and Bob shouted up before Hal Gregg had a\nchance to speak.\n\u201cHey, what\u2019s the idea of keeping me waiting? Hurry up, come on down,\nI\u2019ve got something great to tell you.\u201d\n\u201cHold your horses. I didn\u2019t hear you whistle at first. I was reading,\u201d\ncalled down Hal.\nBob snorted. \u201cPut it away and hurry up down. Books can wait. You should\nhear the news I\u2019ve got to tell you.\u201d\n\u201cThe book\u2019s swell,\u201d said Hal. \u201cIt\u2019s that new book on aviation I got for\nmy birthday. Is your news more important than that?\u201d\n\u201cYou bet it is,\u201d yelled Bob. \u201cAnd if you aren\u2019t down here in two\nseconds, I\u2019m going to keep it to myself. And won\u2019t you be sorry!\u201d\nHal laughed. \u201cI\u2019ll be down in one second. I\u2019m not going to have you\nknowing anything I don\u2019t know. You\u2019re too smart now.\u201d The dark head\ndisappeared from the window, reappeared atop the narrow shoulders of its\nowner at the front door within a few seconds, bobbing about as he leaped\ndown the front steps two at a time. Hal Gregg joined his pal Bob under\nthe maple tree on the Gregg front lawn.\nThe two boys made a strange contrast as they flung themselves down in\nthe shade of the tree. They were the same age, sixteen, with Hal having\na little edge on his friend. But Bob could have passed for the other\nboy\u2019s big brother. He was a full head taller, his shoulders were\nbroader, his complexion ruddier. He was the typical outdoor boy, with\ntousled brown hair, a few unruly freckles, and a broad pleasant face.\nHal Gregg was short and slight, with sloping narrow shoulders. His\ncomplexion was dark, and his large, serious eyes were hidden behind\nshell-rimmed eye-glasses. Yet though they were such a badly matched\nteam, the two boys were fast friends.\nTheir friendship had begun strangely. In the first place, they lived\nnext door to each other, on a quiet, shady side-street in the large city\nof Crowley. Bob had lived there first, while the red brick house next to\nhis had been empty for a long time. Nobody Bob\u2019s age had ever lived in\nthat house, and he had grown to look at it as an old fogey sort of a\nhouse, very dull, and fit only for grownups. It didn\u2019t seem as though\nyoung people could ever live in it. So he\u2019d been pretty much excited\nwhen he found out that the house had been sold, and that a boy his own\nage was going to move in.\nBut his first glimpse of Hal was a disappointed one. \u201cOh, golly, just my\nluck,\u201d he said to his mother. \u201cSomebody my own age moves in next door at\nlast, and look what he turns out to be.\u201d\nMrs. Martin had also caught a glimpse of Hal as he had got out of the\nautomobile with his mother, and entered the house. \u201cHe seems to me to be\na very nice boy,\u201d she said quietly.\n\u201cNice! That\u2019s just the point. He looks as though he\u2019s so nice he\u2019ll be\nas dull as ditchwater. I\u2019ll bet he\u2019s the kind that can\u2019t tell one\nairplane from another, and buys his radio sets all made up, with twenty\ntubes and all kinds of gadgets. Lot of fun I\u2019ll have with him!\u201d\nMrs. Martin smiled and said nothing. She was a wise mother. She knew\nthat if she praised Hal too much he would seem just so much worse in her\nson\u2019s eyes. So she resolved to let him decide for himself, just as she\nalways let him decide, whether he wanted Hal for a friend or not.\nFor several days Bob saw nothing of Hal, but one day, as he rode his\nbicycle up the driveway that separated the two houses, he heard someone\nhail him. He looked over into the Gregg yard and saw Hal there,\nstretched out in a steamer chair, an open book in his lap. He looked\nvery small and puny. Bob got down from his bike. He was embarrassed. Hal\nhailed him again. \u201cCome on over,\u201d he called.\nBob got down and walked over to where the other boy was sitting. The\nmeeting between two strange boys is usually a hard one, with suspicion\non both sides. But Hal seemed surprisingly pleasant. \u201cI\u2019ve seen you\nriding around,\u201d he said, \u201cbut I haven\u2019t had a chance to call you before.\nI\u2019m Hal Gregg. You\u2019re Bob, aren\u2019t you?\u201d\n\u201cSure,\u201d grinned Bob. He was beginning to think that this Hal might not\nbe such a bad sort. \u201cHow did you know?\u201d\n\u201cOh, I\u2019m a Sherlock Holmes. Anyway, I\u2019ve heard your mother calling to\nyou. And if she calls you \u2018Bob,\u2019 that must be your name.\u201d\nBob laughed, \u201cYou\u2019re right, she ought to know,\u201d he said. But he didn\u2019t\nknow what to say next. Hal filled in the gap.\n\u201cYou go swimming a lot, and bicycling, don\u2019t you?\u201d\n\u201cSure,\u201d Bob replied. \u201cThat\u2019s about all a fellow likes to do in summer.\nDon\u2019t you swim?\u201d\nHal\u2019s forehead wrinkled. \u201cMy mother doesn\u2019t like me to go swimming,\u201d he\nsaid. \u201cI\u2019ve never had a bike, either. You see, my mother\u2019s always afraid\nthat something\u2019ll happen to me. She hasn\u2019t got anybody but me, you know.\nI haven\u2019t got a father, or any other family. I guess that\u2019s what makes\nMother so anxious about me.\u201d\n\u201cMy mother never seems to worry very much about me,\u201d said Bob. \u201cAt\nleast, she never shows it.\u201d\nHal looked at Bob enviously. \u201cYou don\u2019t have to be worried about,\u201d he\nsaid. \u201cYou\u2019re as husky as they come.\u201d\nBob felt himself getting warm. This wasn\u2019t the way for a fellow to talk.\nAll of his friends called each other \u201cshrimp\u201d or \u201csawed-off,\u201d no matter\nhow big and husky they might be. None of them ever showed such poor\ntaste as to compliment a fellow. He guessed, and correctly, that Hal\nhadn\u2019t been with boys enough to learn the proper boy code of etiquette.\nBut he just said, \u201cAw, I\u2019m not so husky,\u201d which was the proper answer to\na compliment, anyway.\n\u201cYou sure are,\u201d said Hal. \u201cYou see, I was a sickly child, and had to be\ntaken care of all the time. I\u2019m all right now, but my mother doesn\u2019t\nseem to realize it. She still treats me as though I was about to break\nout with the measles any minute. I guess that\u2019s about all I used to do\nwhen I was a kid.\u201d\n\u201cWith measles?\u201d laughed Bob. \u201cI thought that you could get those only\nonce.\u201d\n\u201cOh, if it wasn\u2019t measles, then something else. Anyway, here I am.\u201d\nBob\u2019s opinion of the boy had sunk lower and lower. He saw that they\nweren\u2019t going to get on at all. Why, the boy was nothing but a\nmollycoddle, and not much fun. \u201cWhat do you do for fun?\u201d he asked,\ncuriously.\n\u201cOh, I read a lot,\u201d said Hal, picking up the book in his lap.\nBob\u2019s mind was now more firmly made up. A fellow who spent all his time\nreading was no fun at all. And he needn\u2019t think that Bob was going to\nencourage any friendship, either. \u201cWhat\u2019s the book?\u201d he asked.\n\u201cA biography,\u201d said Hal.\n\u201cBiography!\u201d thought Bob, but he looked at the title. It was a life of\nAdmiral Byrd.\nBob\u2019s eyes lighted up. \u201cOh, say,\u201d he said, \u201cis that good?\u201d\n\u201cIt\u2019s great,\u201d said Hal. \u201cYou know, I read every book on aviators that\ncomes out. I\u2019ve always wanted to be one\u2014an aviator, you know.\u201d\nBob sat up and took notice. \u201cGee, you have? Why, so have I. My Uncle\nBill\u2019s an aviator. You ought to know him. He was in the war. Joined when\nhe was just eighteen. I\u2019m going to be an aviator, too.\u201d\n\u201cYou are? Have you ever been up?\u201d\n\u201cNo,\u201d said Bob, \u201cbut I\u2019m going some day. Bill\u2019s going to teach me how to\npilot a plane. He\u2019s promised. He\u2019s coming to visit us some time and\nbring his own plane. Dad takes me out to the airport whenever he can,\nand we watch the planes. I\u2019ve never had a chance to go up, though.\u201d\nHal\u2019s eyes clouded. \u201cI hope you get to be an aviator,\u201d he said, \u201cI don\u2019t\nthink that I ever shall. My mother\u2019d never allow me to go up.\u201d\n\u201cOh, sure, she would,\u201d consoled Bob, \u201cif you wanted to badly enough.\nHave you ever built a plane? A model, I mean?\u201d\n\u201cHave I? Dozens. One of them flew, too. You\u2019ve got to come up to my\nworkshop and see them,\u201d said Hal eagerly. \u201cI read every new book that\ncomes out. I think that airplanes are the greatest thing out.\u201d\n\u201cYou\u2019ve got to see my models, too. I made a _Spirit of St. Louis_ the\nyear that Lindy flew across the Atlantic. Of course it isn\u2019t as good as\nmy later ones. Say, we\u2019re going to have a swell time, aren\u2019t we?\u201d At\nthat moment Bob knew that he and Hal were going to be good friends.\nAnd good friends they were. There were a great many things about Hal\nthat annoyed Bob no end at first. Hal was, without a doubt, his mother\u2019s\nboy. He was afraid of things\u2014things that the fearless Bob took for\ngranted. He was afraid of the dark\u2014afraid of getting his feet wet\u2014afraid\nof staying too late and worrying his mother. And then he was awkward.\nBob tried gradually to initiate him into masculine sports\u2014but it irked\nhim to watch Hal throw a ball like a girl, or swim like a splashing\nporpoise. But he had to admit that Hal tried. And when he got better at\nthings, it was fun teaching him. Bob felt years older than his pupil,\nand gradually came to take a protective attitude toward him that amused\nhis mother.\nMrs. Martin smiled one day when Bob complained about Hal\u2019s awkwardness\nin catching a ball. \u201cWell,\u201d she said, \u201cyou may be teaching Hal things,\nbut he\u2019s teaching you, too, and you should be grateful to him.\u201d\n\u201cWhat\u2019s he teaching me?\u201d asked Bob, surprised.\n\u201cI notice, Bob, that you\u2019re reading a great deal more than you ever\nhave. I think that that\u2019s Hal\u2019s influence.\u201d\n\u201cOh, that,\u201d said Bob, \u201cwhy, we read the lives of the famous flyers,\nthat\u2019s all. Why, that\u2019s fun. That\u2019s not reading.\u201d\nMrs. Martin smiled again, and kept her customary silence.\nThe strange friendship, founded on the love of airplanes, flourished.\nThe boys were always together, and had invented an elaborate system of\nsignals to communicate with each other at such times as they weren\u2019t\nwith one another. Two crossed flags meant \u201cCome over at once.\u201d One flag\nwith a black ball on it meant \u201cI can\u2019t come over.\u201d These flags, usually\nlimp and bedraggled by the elements horrified the parents of both Bob\nand Hal when they saw them hanging in various intricate designs out of\nwindows and on bushes and trees in the garden. But since they seemed\nnecessary to the general scheme of things, they were allowed to go\nunmolested, even in the careful Gregg household.\nThe friendship had weathered a summer, a school year, and was now\nentering the boys\u2019 summer vacation again. It was at the beginning of\nthis vacation that Bob whistled to Hal and called to him to come down to\nhear his wonderful news.\n\u201cWell,\u201d said Hal, \u201cspill the news.\u201d It must be said of Hal that he tried\neven to master the language of the real boy in his education as a good\nsport.\n\u201cBill\u2019s coming,\u201d said Bob, trying to hide his excitement, but not\nsucceeding very well.\n\u201cWhat?\u201d shouted Hal.\n\u201cSure, Captain Bill\u2019s coming to spend the summer with us. He\u2019s flying\nhere in his own plane.\u201d\n\u201cOh, golly,\u201d said Hal, and could say no more.\nCaptain Bill was the boys\u2019 patron saint. It had been through his uncle\nBill that Bob Martin had developed his mania for flying. Captain Bill\nHale was Bob\u2019s mother\u2019s youngest brother, the adventurous member of the\nfamily, who had enlisted in the Canadian army when he was eighteen, at\nthe outbreak of the war. When the United States joined the big battle,\nhe had gone into her air corps to become one of the army\u2019s crack flyers,\nwith plenty of enemy planes and blimps to his credit. A crash had put\nhim out of commission at the end of the war, but had not dulled his\nardor for flying. For years he had flown his own plane both for\ncommercial and private reasons.\nAs Bob\u2019s hero, he had always written to the boy, telling him of his\nadventures, encouraging him in his desire to become an aviator. He had\nnever found the time actually to visit for any length of time with his\nsister and her family, but had dropped down from the sky on them\nsuddenly and unexpectedly every so often.\nBut now, as Bob explained carefully to Hal, he was coming for the whole\nsummer, and was going to teach him, Bob, to fly.\n\u201cOh, boy, oh, boy, oh, boy,\u201d Bob chortled, \u201cwhat a break! Captain Bill\nhere for months, with nothing to do but fly us around.\u201d\nHal did not seem to share his friend\u2019s enthusiasm. \u201cFly us around? Not\nus, Bob, old boy\u2014you. My mother will never let me go up.\u201d Hal\u2019s face\nclouded.\nBob slapped him on the back. \u201cOh, don\u2019t you worry. Your mother will let\nyou fly. She\u2019s let you do a lot of things with me that she never let you\ndo before. We\u2019ll get her to come around.\u201d\nBut Hal looked dubious. \u201cNot that, I\u2019m afraid. She\u2019s scared to death of\nplanes, and gets pale if I even mention flying. But that\u2019s all right.\nI\u2019ll do my flying on the ground. You and Bill will have a great time.\u201d\n\u201cBuck up,\u201d said Bob. \u201cDon\u2019t cross your bridges until you come to them.\nWe\u2019ll work on your mother until she thinks that flying is the safest\nthing in the world. And it is, too. We\u2019ll let Captain Bill talk to her.\nHe can make anybody believe anything. He\u2019ll have her so thoroughly\nconvinced that she\u2019ll be begging him to take you up in the air to save\nyour life. See if he doesn\u2019t! Bill is great!\u201d\nHal was visibly improved in spirits. \u201cWhen\u2019s Bill coming in?\u201d he asked.\n\u201cSix tonight,\u201d said Bob. \u201cDown at the airport. Dad says that he\u2019ll drive\nus both out there so that we can meet Captain Bill, and drive him back.\nGee, wouldn\u2019t it be great if he had an autogyro and could land in our\nback yard?\u201d\n\u201cMaybe he\u2019ll have one the next time he comes. What kind of plane is he\nflying?\u201d\n\u201cHis new Lockheed. It\u2019s a monoplane, he says, and painted green, with a\nreddish nose. It\u2019s green because his partner, Pat, wanted it green.\nPat\u2019s been his buddy since they were over in France together, and\nanything that Pat says, goes. It\u2019s got two cockpits, and dual controls.\nIt\u2019s just great for teaching beginners. That means us, Hal, old boy.\nListen, you\u2019d better get ready. Dad will be home soon, and will want to\nstart down for the port. Say, does that sound like thunder?\u201d\nThe boys listened. It did sound like thunder. In fact, it was thunder.\n\u201cGolly, I hope it doesn\u2019t storm. Mother won\u2019t let me go if it rains.\u201d\nBob laughed. \u201cI wouldn\u2019t worry about you getting wet if it stormed,\u201d he\nsaid. \u201cWhat about Bill, right up in the clouds? Of course, he can climb\nover the storm if it\u2019s not too bad. But you hurry anyhow. We\u2019ll probably\nget started before it rains, anyway.\u201d\nAt ten minutes to six Hal, Bob and Bob\u2019s father were parked at the\nairport, their necks stretched skyward, watching the darkening, clouded\nskies for the first hint of a green monoplane. No green monoplane did\nthey see. A few drops of rain splattered down, then a few more, and\nsuddenly the outburst that had been promising for hours poured down.\nBob\u2019s father, with the aid of the two boys, put up the windows of the\ncar, and they sat fairly snug while the rain teemed down about them. The\nfield was becoming sodden. Crashes of lightning and peals of thunder\nseemed to flash and roll all about them. All of the airplanes within\neasy distance of their home port had come winging home like birds to an\nenormous nest. The three watchers scanned each carefully, but none was\nthe green Lockheed of Captain Bill.\nThe time passed slowly. Six-thirty; then seven. Finally Mr. Martin\ndecided that they could wait no longer. \u201cHe\u2019s probably landed some place\nto wait for the storm to lift,\u201d he said. \u201cHe can take a taxi over to the\nhouse when he gets in.\u201d\nReluctant to leave, the boys nevertheless decided that they really\ncouldn\u2019t wait all night in the storm for Captain Bill, and so they\nstarted for home.\nVery wet, and bedraggled, and very, very, hungry, they arrived. Hal\u2019s\nmother was practically hysterical, met him at the door, and drew him\nhastily into the house.\nMr. Martin and his son ran swiftly from the garage to the back door of\ntheir house, but were soaked before they got in. Entering the darkened\nkitchen, they could hear voices inside.\n\u201cDoesn\u2019t that sound like\u2014why, it is\u2014that\u2019s Bill\u2019s voice,\u201d shouted Bob.\nThe light switched on, and Bill and Mrs. Martin came into the kitchen to\ngreet their prodigal relatives.\n\u201cHello,\u201d said Bill, \u201cwhere have you people been? You seem to be wet.\nShake on it.\u201d\n\u201cWell, how in the\u2014how did you get in?\u201d shouted Mr. Martin, pumping\nBill\u2019s hand. \u201cWe were waiting in the rain for you for hours.\u201d\n\u201cI know,\u201d said Bill, contritely, \u201cwe tried to get in touch with you, but\nwe couldn\u2019t. You see, I came in by train.\u201d\n\u201cBy train!\u201d exclaimed Bob. \u201cBy train!\u201d\n\u201cWhy, sure,\u201d laughed the Captain, \u201cWhy, aren\u2019t you glad to see me\nwithout my plane? That\u2019s a fine nephewly greeting!\u201d\n\u201cOh, gee, Bill, of course I\u2019m glad to see you, but\u2014well, I\u2019ve sort of\nbeen counting on your bringing your plane.\u201d\nBill laughed. \u201cThe plane\u2019s coming all right,\u201d he said. \u201cWe had a little\naccident the other day, and the wing needed repairing. I decided not to\nwait for it, but to come in on the train to be with you. So Pat\nMcDermott is bringing the plane in in a few days. Is that all right? May\nI stay?\u201d\n\u201cYup, you can stay,\u201d said Bob. \u201cBut I want something to eat!\u201d\n\u201cEverything\u2019s ready,\u201d said Mrs. Martin. \u201cYou change your clothes, and\ncome right down to dinner.\u201d\n\u201cSure thing,\u201d said Bob. But he did not change immediately. He stopped\nfirst to put two crossed flags in the window, which meant to Hal, \u201cCome\nright over.\u201d\nCHAPTER II\u2014Captain Bill\nHal couldn\u2019t come right over. He had to be fussed over, steamed, dosed,\nand put to bed so that he would suffer no ill effects from his soaking\nthat evening. But he was over bright and early the next morning. It had\nrained all night, and was still raining in a quiet, steady downpour,\nwhen Hal appeared at the Martin home, dressed in rubbers, raincoat,\nmuffler, and carrying an umbrella to protect him on his long trek from\nhis own front door to his friend\u2019s. Captain Bill would have been\nstartled at the strangely bundled figure of Hal, but he had been warned,\nand greeted Hal without a blink of an eyelash. In fact, as soon as Hal\nhad been unwrapped from his many coverings, and had spoken to them all,\nCaptain Bill discovered that he was probably going to like this boy\nafter all, and was pleased that his nephew had such good judgment in\nchoosing a friend and companion.\nThey talked that morning, of course, about airplanes, and the boys told\nhow they had been reading about the famous flyers, and of their hopes to\nbe flyers themselves some day. Bill had been a good listener, and had\nsaid very little, but after lunch Hal said what had been on his chest\nfor a long time.\n\u201cCaptain Bill, we\u2019ve been doing all the talking. Why don\u2019t you tell us a\nstory?\u201d\nThe Captain laughed. \u201cI think that Bob\u2019s heard all my stories. I\u2019m\nafraid that they\u2019re a little moth-eaten now. But how about the two of\nyou telling me a story? Some of the things that you\u2019ve been reading so\ncarefully. How about it?\u201d\n\u201cWe can\u2019t tell a story the way you can, old scout,\u201d said Bob. \u201cAnyway,\nwe asked you first.\u201d\n\u201cAll right, I\u2019m caught,\u201d said the Captain. \u201cBut I\u2019ll tell you a story\nonly on one condition. Each of you has to tell one too. That\u2019s only\nfair, isn\u2019t it?\u201d\nBob and Hal looked at each other. Hal spoke. \u201cI\u2019m afraid I won\u2019t be able\nto,\u201d he said, blushing. \u201cI can\u2019t tell stories, I\u2019m sure I can\u2019t.\u201d\nCaptain Bill knew that it would be tactless at that moment to try to\nconvince Hal that he could tell a story. It would only increase the\nboy\u2019s nervousness, and convince him only more of the fact that he could\nnot spin a yarn. So he said, \u201cWell, we\u2019ll tell ours first, and you can\ntell yours later. After you hear how bad ours are, you\u2019ll be\nencouraged.\u201d Then Bill had an idea. \u201cHow about having a contest?\u201d he\nsaid. \u201cThe one who tells the best story gets a prize.\u201d\n\u201cWhat prize?\u201d asked Bob quickly.\n\u201cNow, you take your time. We\u2019ll decide on the prize later. We\u2019ll have to\nlet Pat in on this, too, I suppose, but he\u2019s going to give us some\ncompetition. Pat\u2019s a great story teller. I\u2019ll tell my story first. Then\nBob can tell his, after he\u2019s had some time for preparation; then Pat\nwill probably want to get his licks in; and Hal will come last. He\u2019ll\nhave the benefit of our mistakes to guide him. How about it?\u201d\n\u201cAll right with me,\u201d said Bob, eagerly. He was keen about the idea.\nBut Hal seemed less enthusiastic. His natural reticence, he felt, would\nmake it torture for him to tell a story. It would be all right just for\nBob\u2014and he was even getting well enough acquainted with Captain Bill to\ntell his story in front of him\u2014but this Pat McDermott\u2014even his name\nsounded formidable. Captain Bill didn\u2019t give him a chance to say aye,\nyea, or nay, but went on talking.\n\u201cI think that we ought to choose subjects that you two know about,\u201d said\nBill. \u201cHow about stories of the aviators\u2014of Famous Flyers and their\nFamous Flights?\u201d\n\u201cGreat!\u201d said Bob. \u201cGee, I want Lindbergh.\u201d\n\u201cLindbergh you shall have,\u201d said Captain Bill. \u201cWhat\u2019s yours Hal?\u201d\n\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d said Hal. \u201cI\u2019ll have to think it over. But\u2014I think that\nI\u2019d like to take the life of Floyd Bennett\u2014if I may.\u201d\n\u201cOf course,\u201d said Bill. \u201cI think that I\u2019ll tell about Admiral Byrd\u2014do\nyou think he\u2019d make a good story?\u201d\n\u201cMarvelous!\u201d said Bob, with his usual enthusiasm. \u201cWhat\u2019ll we leave for\nPat?\u201d\n\u201cPat can take whomever he wants to take,\u201d the Captain said. \u201cHe\u2019ll have\nto take what\u2019s left. That\u2019s what he gets for coming late. But what do\nyou say we wait to start the contest when Pat comes?\u201d\n\u201cYes, oh, yes, I think that that would be much better,\u201d said Hal,\nrelieved that the ordeal would at least be postponed, even if it could\nnot be avoided altogether. \u201cI think that we ought to wait until Mr.\nMcDermott comes.\u201d\nThe Captain laughed. \u201cDon\u2019t let him hear you call him \u2018Mr. McDermott\u2019\u201d\nhe said. \u201cHe\u2019s Pat to everybody, and to you, too.\u201d\n\u201cI\u2019ll try to remember,\u201d said Hal, miserably, thinking of what a\ncomplicated world this was.\nIt was still raining outside. The boys and the Captain, seated in the\nlibrary, or rather, sprawled in the library, could see the streams of\nrain splash against the windows and run down in little rivers until they\nsplashed off again at the bottom of the pane.\nCaptain Bill yawned and stretched. \u201cNot much to do on a day like this.\nI\u2019m mighty anxious to get out to the airport as soon as it clears up.\nWhat\u2019ll we do?\u201d\nBob had an idea. \u201cCouldn\u2019t we sort of sneak one over on Pat?\u201d he said.\n\u201cCouldn\u2019t we have a story, one not in the contest, now? It wouldn\u2019t\ncount, really, and it would give us a little rehearsal before Pat gets\nhere.\u201d\n\u201cWho\u2019s going to tell this story?\u201d asked Captain Bill, looking just a bit\nsuspiciously at his nephew.\nBob grinned. \u201cWell, I thought that maybe you would. Seeing that you\u2019re\nthe best story-teller anyway.\u201d\n\u201cGo long with your blarney. But I guess I will tell you one. It will be\na sort of prologue to the rest of our stories. It\u2019s about the very first\nflyers and the very first famous flight.\u201d\n\u201cThe Wrights?\u201d asked Hal.\n\u201cThe Wrights,\u201d said the Captain. \u201cWilbur and Orville, and their first\nflight at Kitty Hawk, North Carolina.\u201d\nCHAPTER III\u2014The Wright Brothers\nThe Captain had first to fill his pipe, and stretch his legs before he\nbegan his story.\n\u201cOf course,\u201d he said, \u201cwe can\u2019t really say that the Wrights were the\nfirst men to fly, or to build a machine that would fly. Even in the\nmiddle ages Leonardo da Vinci drew up plans for a flying machine. Just\nbefore the Wright\u2019s experiment Langley had stayed up in the air in a\nmachine invented and built by himself. If he had not died at so\nunfortunate a period in his experimental life, perhaps he might have\nbeen the inventor of the airplane.\n\u201cThe Wrights invented the airplane in the same degree that Thomas Edison\ninvented the electric light. Men had experimented with both inventions\nfor many years. But it took the genius of the Wrights, the genius of an\nEdison to bring together these experiments, to think through logically\njust wherein they were right and where they were wrong, and to add the\nbrilliant deductions that brought their experiments to a practical and\nsuccessful end. Edison\u2019s discovery was dependent upon the finding of the\nproper filament for his bulb; the Wrights\u2019 success hinged upon their\ndiscovery of the warped wing, which gave them control over their plane.\n\u201cThe fact that the Wrights were not the first to fly does not detract\nfrom the thing that they actually did. At the time that they were making\ntheir first flying machine, any man who tampered with the subject of\nflying through the air was looked upon as crazy. And this was not more\nthan a quarter of a century ago. Seems funny, doesn\u2019t it? But they were\nnot to be discouraged. They knew that they were right, and they went\nahead. They had many set-backs. Their planes were wrecked. What did they\ndo? They just built them over again, and were glad that they had learned\nof some new defect that they could re-design and correct.\n\u201cYou notice that I always talk of \u2018the Wrights\u2019 as though they were one\nperson; everybody does. In fact, they almost were one person. They were\nalways together; lived together, played together, although they didn\u2019t\nplay much, being a serious pair, and worked together. They never\nquarreled, never showed any jealousy of each other, never claimed the\nlion\u2019s share of praise in the invention. They were just \u2018the Wrights,\u2019\nquiet, retiring men, who did much and talked little.\n\u201cFrom early childhood it was the same. Wilbur Wright, the elder of the\ntwo, was born in Milville, Indiana, and lived there until he was three\nyears old with his parents, Milton Wright, bishop of the United Brethren\nChurch, and Susan Katherine Wright. In 1870 the family moved to Dayton,\nOhio, and in 1871 Orville Wright was born. From a very early age the two\nwere drawn to each other. Their minds and desires were similar.\n\u201cWhen Wilbur decided that he would rather go to work after being\ngraduated from High School, Orville decided that he, too, would give up\nhis formal education, and devote himself to mechanics.\n\u201cThey were born mechanics, always building miniature machines that\nactually worked. They did not stop studying, but took to reading\nscientific works that were of more help to them than formal education.\nIn this way they learned printing, and built themselves a printing press\nout of odds and ends that they assembled. On this they began to publish\na little newspaper, but they gave this up when another opportunity\npresented itself.\n\u201cBicycles were coming in at that time, and the Wright brothers set up a\nlittle shop to repair them. From the repair shop they developed a\nfactory in which they manufactured bicycles themselves. Their business\nwas very successful, and they were looked upon as young men who were\nlikely to get along in the world. This was in 1896.\n\u201cThat year Otto Lilienthal, a famous German experimenter, was killed in\nhis glider, just at the peak of his career. Wilbur read an account of\nhis death in the newspaper, and discussed it with his brother. The event\nrenewed the interest that they had always had in flying, and they set\nabout studying all of the books that they could find on the problem of\nflight. They soon exhausted all that they could get, and decided that\ntheir groundwork had been laid. From then on their work was practical,\nand they discovered principles that had never been written, and which\nresulted in the first flight.\n\u201cThe first things that they built were kites, and then gliders that were\nflown as kites. The Wrights were after the secret of the birds\u2019 flight,\nand felt that they could apply it to man\u2019s flight. Their next step was\nthe construction of a real glider. But the country around Dayton was not\nfavorable for flying their craft. They wrote to the United States\ngovernment to find a region that had conditions favorable to their\ngliding. That is how the obscure Kitty Hawk, North Carolina, came to be\nthe famous place that it is. It happened to have just south of it three\nhills, Kill Devil Hill, Little Hill, and West Hill. Between the hills\nwas soft drifting sand, that would provide a better landing place than\nhard earth in case of a spill. The winds were steady and moderate.\n\u201cTo Kitty Hawk the Wrights went. Here they glided to their heart\u2019s\ncontent, until they decided that they had learned to control their\nflights, and were ready to build a plane with power. They went back to\nDayton in 1902. They designed and supervised the building of the motor\nthemselves, one that would generate twelve horsepower. Satisfied, they\nset out once more for Kitty Hawk, with the motor and parts of their\nplane carefully stowed away.\n\u201cThey got down there in the early autumn, but found so many difficulties\nto overcome, that they could not make the first tests until December. In\nthe first place, they discovered that a storm had blown away the\nbuilding which they had built to work in when they first got to Kitty\nHawk. However, everything was at last ready, the weather favorable, and\nthe plane was hauled up Kill Devil Hill, and guided toward the single\ntrack of planks that had been laid down the hill.\n\u201cWho was going to get the first chance to pilot the plane? Who was going\nto be the first man to fly? Orville insisted that Wilbur be the one;\nWilbur insisted that Orville should be the first. They decided it by\nflipping a coin. Wilbur won. He got into the plane, unfastened the wire\nthat held the plane to the track, and started down. He ended in a heap\nat the bottom of the hill, uninjured, but with several parts of the\nplane damaged.\n\u201cThe Wrights were nothing daunted. They repaired the plane as quickly as\npossible, and on December 17, they were ready for the second trial. It\nwas Orville\u2019s turn, of course. He unloosened the wire; the plane started\ndown the hill; at the end of a forty-foot run it rose into the air. It\nkept on going, in a bumpy, irregular course, now swooping up, now diving\ndown, for 120 feet, then darted to earth. The flight had taken in all\njust twelve seconds, but the Wrights had flown.\n\u201cI suppose you\u2019ve seen pictures of that first plane. It wasn\u2019t much more\nthan a box in shape, a biplane, with no cockpit at all, just the wings\nheld together by struts, and a seat in the center for the pilot. A man\nhad to be tough to fly one of those planes. The wonder is that any of\nthem escaped with their lives. They had to sit up there exposed to all\nthe elements, and pilot the clumsy planes. And yet they grew into\nskilful and expert pilots, and could loop the loop and figure eight in\nthem! The Wrights themselves were excellent flyers. This seems only\nnatural, with their natural born gift for mechanics. It was well that\nthey were good flyers, because it was up to them to prove to the world\nthat their craft was safe, and practical.\n\u201cIt was hard at first. People were skeptical as to whether the Wrights\nreally had a ship that flew. Some of their tests were unsuccessful, and\nthey were laughed to scorn. However, France, who had been more advanced\nthan the United States in the matter of experimentation in flying,\nbecame interested in the new flying machine, and sent representatives\nover to the United States to inspect it. With the French approving of\nit, the United States became more interested. The government offered a\nprize of $25,000, for anyone who would build a plane that would travel\n40 miles an hour, carry enough fuel and oil to cruise for 125 miles, and\nfly continuously for at least an hour, with two persons weighing\ntogether 350 pounds. The Wrights built such a machine, and the\ngovernment not only gave them the $25,000, but an additional $5,000\nbesides.\n\u201cIn the meanwhile Wilbur Wright had gone to France, where he\nparticipated in many flights, and won the hearts of the French people by\nstaying in the air for an hour and a half. At the end of the year, 1908,\nhe stayed in the air over two hours.\n\u201cThe Wrights were showing what they could do. Flying became the rage.\nSociety took it up, and traveled to the Wrights to see their planes. But\nthe Wrights, no more impressed by this than they were by anything else,\nkept right on working. They were financed by a group of able financiers\nin the United States, and founded the Wright Aeroplane Company for the\nmanufacture of planes, and they were content.\n\u201cAfter 1909, their point proved, the Wrights did very little flying.\nThey spent their time in engineering problems, making improvements on\nthe planes that they were designing and manufacturing.\n\u201cThey did some more experimenting with gliders, but this was in order to\nperfect the art of soaring.\n\u201cIn May, 1912, Wilbur Wright died, and broke up the famous partnership\nthat had existed for so many years. Since his death his brother has\nlived quietly. He has not flown, and has acted as advisor to his company\nas they turn out more and more modern planes. He is one man who has\nlived to see a thing that he started himself grow into a blessing to\nmankind. And if the airplane isn\u2019t that, I\u2019d like to know what is.\u201d\n\u201cI think so,\u201d said Bob.\n\u201cWho are you to think so?\u201d asked Bill, sitting up very suddenly.\nBob was non-plussed for a moment, but then saw that his uncle was\njoking, and laughed. They were interrupted by the ringing of the\ndoorbell.\n\u201cWell,\u201d said the Captain, \u201cwho could be out in weather like this?\u201d\nThey heard the front door open, voices, and then the closing of the\ndoor. In a short while the footsteps of Mrs. Martin sounded on the\nsteps, and she entered the library.\n\u201cA telegram for you, Bill,\u201d she said, and handed it to him. \u201cMy, you\nthree look cozy up here. I suppose you\u2019ve been yarning, haven\u2019t you?\u201d\nShe gave her brother a playful poke.\nCaptain Bill, who had risen when his sister came in, offered his chair\nbefore he opened the telegram. \u201cJoin us, won\u2019t you, Sis?\u201d\nHis sister laughed. \u201cI really can\u2019t go before I see what is in the\ntelegram,\u201d she said. \u201cOf course, I suppose I should be polite and\npretend not to be interested in it, but I am. We all are, aren\u2019t we,\nboys?\u201d\nBob and Hal grinned.\n\u201cWell, then,\u201d said Bill, \u201cI guess I\u2019ll have to see what\u2019s in it.\u201d He\nopened the telegram, and glanced hurriedly over it. \u201cPat\u2019s landing\ntomorrow,\u201d he said. \u201cHe wants us to be out at the airport to see the\n_Marianne_ come in.\u201d\n\u201cHurray!\u201d shouted Bob, and went into a war dance.\nHis mother looked at him tolerantly. She was used to Bob\u2019s antics. \u201cWhat\ntime is Pat coming in?\u201d she asked.\n\u201cHe didn\u2019t say. In fact, that\u2019s all he didn\u2019t say in this telegram. But\nI guess he\u2019ll start out about dawn and get here around noon. Anyway,\nwe\u2019ll be going down to the airport tomorrow morning to look around.\nWe\u2019ll stay there until that Irishman rolls in.\u201d\n\u201cWhat will you do about lunch?\u201d asked the practical Mrs. Martin.\n\u201cWhy, we\u2019ll eat at the airport restaurant,\u201d said Bill. \u201cDon\u2019t worry\nabout us, Sis.\u201d\nMrs. Martin looked dubious. She glanced at Hal. She knew that Hal\u2019s\nmother liked to supervise her son\u2019s meals, and did not care to have him\neat at strange places. Mrs. Martin felt that it would be a shame to\nspoil the expedition for such a trivial reason, so she said, \u201cI have an\nidea. I\u2019ll pack a lunch for all of you tonight, and you can take it with\nyou tomorrow. How will that be? You can eat it anyplace around the\nairport. It\u2019ll be a regular picnic. There are some nice places around\nthe port that you can go to. How about that?\u201d\nBob answered for them. \u201cThat will be great. Gee, Bill, do you remember\nthe picnic baskets that Mom can pack? We\u2019re in luck.\u201d\n\u201cDo I remember?\u201d said Bill. \u201cHow could I forget? You fellows had better\nbe up pretty early tomorrow.\u201d\n\u201cYou bet we will, Captain,\u201d said Bob.\nThen Hal said, \u201cI guess I\u2019d better be going. My mother will be wondering\nif I\u2019m never coming home. I hope that I can come with you tomorrow.\u201d\n\u201cHope you can come with us? Why, of course you\u2019re coming with us. We\nwon\u2019t go without you,\u201d Captain Bill said explosively.\n\u201cI\u2019ll see,\u201d said Hal. \u201cI\u2019ll ask Mother. Maybe she\u2019ll let me go. But\nanyway, I\u2019ll let you know. I\u2019ll put up the flags in the workshop window.\nAll right?\u201d\n\u201cSure,\u201d said Bob, and walked out with Hal. He saw the boy to the door,\nand warned him again to be sure to come.\nWhen the two boys had left the room, Captain Bill turned to his sister.\n\u201cSay,\u201d he said, \u201cdo you think that Hal\u2019s mother really won\u2019t let him\ncome, or is the boy looking for a way out?\u201d\n\u201cWhy, what do you mean?\u201d asked Mrs. Martin.\n\u201cJust this,\u201d said Bill, and puffed vigorously on his pipe. \u201cI\u2019ve been\nwatching the boy, and I think that he\u2019s afraid.\u201d\n\u201cAfraid of what?\u201d\n\u201cAfraid of actually going up in an airplane. I feel that a change has\ncome over him since there has been an actual chance of his learning to\nfly,\u201d explained the Captain.\nHis sister looked pensive. \u201cBut he\u2019s always been so interested in\nflying. That\u2019s all the two of them ever talk about.\u201d\n\u201cPerhaps. When there was no immediate chance of his going up in a plane.\nNow that there is, I think he\u2019d like to back out.\u201d\n\u201cThere is his mother to consider, of course,\u201d said Mrs. Martin. \u201cShe\nwould undoubtedly object very strenuously if he merely went to the\nairport. You must remember that he\u2019s all she has. She\u2019s always so\ncareful of him.\u201d\nThe Captain snorted. \u201cToo careful,\u201d he said. \u201cShe\u2019s made the boy a\nbundle of fears. Bob has helped him get over some of them, but I think\nthat they\u2019re cropping out now. It will be very bad for Hal if he funks\nthis. I think that it will hurt him a great deal. If he succeeds in\novercoming his fears now for once and for all, if he learns to go up in\na plane, even if he may never fly one himself, he will be a new boy.\nHe\u2019ll never be afraid again. But one let-down now, and he will be set\nway back\u2014even further back than when Bob first met him.\u201d\n\u201cI think you\u2019re right, Bill,\u201d said his sister. \u201cBut what are we going to\ndo about it?\u201d\nThe Captain shrugged his shoulders. \u201cI think the best thing to do with\nthe boy is not to let him know that we know he\u2019s afraid. Treat him just\nas if he were the bravest lad in the world. I\u2019ll take care of that. But\nI can\u2019t take care of his mother. I never was a lady\u2019s man,\u201d smiled\nCaptain Bill. \u201cYou\u2019ll have to attend to that.\u201d\nMrs. Martin\u2019s brow wrinkled. \u201cI think you\u2019ve taken the easier task,\u201d she\nsaid with a wry smile. \u201cI\u2019d much rather teach a boy to overcome his\nfears than teach a mother to overcome hers. But I\u2019ll try,\u201d she added,\nand hoped against hope for success.\nBob burst into the room. \u201cHow about something to eat?\u201d he said. \u201cI\u2019m\nstarved!\u201d\n\u201cAs usual,\u201d said his mother. \u201cI would like to hear you just once\ncomplain about being not hungry.\u201d\n\u201cAll right, mother,\u201d said Bob. \u201cIf you want to hear me complain about\nthat, you just feed me a good dinner now, and I\u2019ll do my best to\ncomplain about being not hungry\u2014after I finish it.\u201d\n\u201cYou\u2019re an impossible son,\u201d said his mother, but smiled fondly at him.\nShe really didn\u2019t believe it.\nCHAPTER IV\u2014Some War Heroes\nWhether secret springs were put into operation by Mrs. Martin that\nafternoon or not, nevertheless Hal was able to join the party going to\nthe airport early the next morning. It was a beautiful morning. It had\nstopped raining, and the sun, coming out strong and bright, had dried\neverything so thoroughly that only an occasional puddle here and there\non the road showed that it had rained at all. The drive to the port was\npleasant, too; the port being about a mile out of town, and at least\nfive miles from the Martin home.\nWhen they arrived, the day\u2019s program was in full sway. A huge\ntri-motored plane was loading passengers for a cross-country trip. As\nthe three approached the port, they saw the great plane rise into the\nair and take off exactly on schedule. Smaller planes were flying about\nabove the airport, and on the ground mechanics were working over several\nplanes that needed overhauling. Captain Bill wanted to go first to the\nadministration building, a large white brick structure, modern as any\noffice building in appearance. He wanted to see the head of the airport,\nan old friend of his, and make the final arrangements for the care of\nhis plane when it came in.\nAs they were about to enter the building, a tall, heavy-set man passed\nthem, on his way out. Captain Bill started, and half turned. \u201cWell, if\nthat didn\u2019t look like\u2014\u201d he began, then turned and went on into the\nbuilding. \u201cLooked like an old flying buddy of mine. But of course, it\ncouldn\u2019t be. Old Hank never was that fat. Never had an ounce of fat on\nhim. All skin and bone. But you never can tell, eh, boys?\u201d\n\u201cYou\u2019ll be getting there yourself, some day, be careful,\u201d laughed Bob.\nJohn Headlund, delighted to see Captain Bill, jumped up from his desk,\nand pumped his hands up and own. \u201cIf it isn\u2019t the Captain! Man, it\u2019s\ngreat to see you again!\u201d Headlund and Bill had flown together in France,\nand although they had kept in touch with each other a few years after\nthey had returned to America, the press of business had kept them apart,\nand they had not seen each other for years. Captain Bill presented the\nboys.\n\u201cThey\u2019re going to bring new business for you, Headlund,\u201d said Bill.\n\u201cHere are two of America\u2019s future flyers.\u201d\nThe boys grinned.\nHeadlund, after wishing them success, turned again to Bill. \u201cDo you see\nany of the old boys?\u201d he asked.\n\u201cPat McDermott\u2019s my partner,\u201d said Bill. \u201cHe\u2019s flying the old boat in\nthis afternoon sometime.\u201d\n\u201cHe is! That\u2019s great! And quite a coincidence, too. Do you know who was\nhere\u2014left just before you came in?\u201d\n\u201cNot Hank Brown!\u201d shouted Bill. \u201cBy golly, I thought I recognized that\nface! Old Hank! What was he doing here?\u201d\n\u201cHe\u2019s got a ship down here in one of our hangars. It\u2019s a beauty\u2014a four\npassenger cabin plane, with the pilot\u2019s seat up front\u2014a beautiful job.\nListen, Hank\u2019s gone down to the hangar now to look it over. Maybe you\ncan catch him down there. It\u2019s Avenue B, the last hangar in line.\u201d\n\u201cGreat. I\u2019d like to see Hank. Last time I saw him he was in an English\nhospital, eating porridge and not liking it at all. Who would have\nthought that the old skinny marink would have put on all that poundage?\nOld Hank fat! And flying in a cabin plane. Come on, fellows, we\u2019ve got\nto go down there and see him.\u201d He turned to Headlund. \u201cI\u2019m going to be\nin town all summer, Heady, and I guess you\u2019ll be seeing plenty of me.\nWhat street did you say? Avenue B?\u201d\nCaptain Bill and the boys hurried out, found the right road, and walked\nalong it until they came to the last hangar. A beautiful plane, black\nand aluminum, stood outside. But as they approached, there was nobody to\nbe seen.\n\u201cAhoy, there!\u201d shouted Bill. \u201cAnybody here know Hank Brown?\u201d\nHank himself appeared from the other side of the plane, where he had\nbeen conferring with a mechanic. \u201cI\u2019m Henry Brown,\u201d he said, peering\nfrom behind gold-rimmed glasses at Bill and the boys. His face\nregistered no sign of recognition at first. Then suddenly it lighted up,\nhe rushed forward, and gripped Captain Bill\u2019s hand in his, slapping him\nheartily on the back with the other. \u201cWell, Bill! You old sock! Where on\nearth did you come from? What are you doing here? Where have you been?\u201d\nBill, delighted to see his old buddy, laughed at him, and poked him in\nhis now well-padded ribs. \u201cOne question at a time, Hank. What are you\ndoing here? And how come you\u2019ve got this grand ship?\u201d asked Bill.\n\u201cI asked you first,\u201d laughed Hank.\nThey spent the next ten minutes telling each other just what they had\nbeen doing since their last meeting. They spared the details, but each\nwas satisfied with the other\u2019s story. Hank had done well as the manager\nand later as president of his father\u2019s steel plant. Prosperity had\nironed out the wrinkles that had always twinkled around his steely grey\neyes, and contentment had added inches to his waistline, but he was\nstill the same generous, fun-loving Hank that the boys had known in\nFrance.\n\u201cListen,\u201d said Hank. \u201cCome on in and try the plane. See how comfortable\nit is. Say, this is some different from the old rattletraps we used to\nfly, isn\u2019t it?\u201d\n\u201cBut we had some good thrills in them, didn\u2019t we,\u201d said Bill. This\nmeeting with Hank was bringing back memories that had not stirred in him\nfor many years.\n\u201cLet\u2019s get in here where we can talk in comfort,\u201d said Hank.\nThey mounted a little step that the mechanic set for them, and entered\nthe side door of the plane. The inside was amazingly luxurious. Along\nboth sides were upholstered seats, covered with multi-colored cushions.\nThere were built-in fixtures, and everything to make for the greatest\nease in traveling. The pilot\u2019s seat could be partitioned off by a glass\nsliding door up front.\nThe three men sat down on the seats at the side of the cabin. \u201cGee,\nthey\u2019re soft,\u201d said Bob. \u201cI could ride all day on these.\u201d He jumped up\nand down a little.\n\u201cRemember your manners,\u201d said Bill.\nBob stopped jumping and blushed. \u201cOh, I forgot,\u201d he said. He had really\nforgotten that Hank Brown was an important man, a millionaire. But Hank\nonly laughed.\n\u201cHow would you people like to take the plane up on its last ride this\nyear?\u201d he asked.\n\u201cThe last ride?\u201d said Bill. \u201cWhy the last?\u201d\n\u201cWell, I\u2019m putting her away,\u201d said Hank. \u201cThat\u2019s what I was talking to\nthe mechanic and Headlund about. I was going to spend my summer up in my\nlog cabin in Canada, fishing, and all that. But my wife wants to go to\nEurope instead. She\u2019s going to take the two girls over to France and\nleave them there in school. That would mean she\u2019d have to come back all\nalone. I\u2019ve been intending to go back to take a look around ever since\nI\u2019ve been back in America, so I thought I\u2019d take the opportunity of\ngetting over there now with her. I wouldn\u2019t take the plane. I won\u2019t need\na big ship like this. If I want to fly I can pick up a little French or\nGerman bus. So I\u2019m putting old Lizzie in the hangar. Seems a shame. But\nhow would you like to go up now? Would you like to try her out?\u201d he\nasked Bill. \u201cWould I?\u201d said Bill. He slid into the pilot\u2019s seat, and\nlooked over the instrument board, to familiarize himself with the\ninstruments with which the plane was equipped. Then he turned back to\nthe boys. \u201cWant to go up?\u201d\nBob was almost beside himself with excitement. \u201cTake her up, Bill go\non,\u201d he squealed. \u201cSure we want to go up. Go ahead, Bill.\u201d\nHal said nothing. His face was pale. Bill thought that it would be best\nto ignore him, and just take it for granted that he wanted to go up,\ntoo. And Hal, although he was by this time frightened to death, would\nnot admit it. He decided to risk the going up rather than say that he\nwas afraid.\nThe mechanic taxied the plane out into the open and took away the steps.\nBill pressed the starter, and the great propeller began to move. Slowly\nthe ship rolled over the ground, gradually gaming momentum. Finally it\nrose into the air. Bill handled the huge ship as though it were a toy.\nHigher and higher it rose. Bob, looking out of the window, saw the\nbuilding of the airport whizzing by below them, then disappear into a\nwhirling mass. Were they going? Were they standing still? Bob couldn\u2019t\ntell.\n\u201cHow high are we?\u201d he shouted at the top of his voice to Hank.\n\u201cAbout 5,000 feet,\u201d judged Hank. He was looking over at Hal rather\nanxiously. He thought that maybe the boy was going to be sick. But Hal\nmanfully hung on, and said nothing.\n\u201cWe seem to be standing still,\u201d shouted Bob.\n\u201cWe\u2019re going, all right. Your uncle is a great one for speed!\u201d shouted\nback Hank.\nThe plane was banking now for a turn. They were going back. In a short\nwhile Bill had brought the plane down once more into the airport.\n\u201cWell, how did you like it?\u201d he said, turning around in his pilot\u2019s\nseat.\n\u201cGreat!\u201d said Bob.\nBut Hal was just a little sick. He said nothing, and waited for the\nworld to settle down again.\n\u201cYou sure handle the ship like you used to in the old days,\u201d said Hank\nadmiringly to Bill.\n\u201cShe\u2019s a great ship,\u201d said Bill, modestly.\nHank had an idea. \u201cSay,\u201d he said impulsively, \u201chow would you like to fly\nher while I\u2019m in Europe?\u201d\n\u201cGee, Hank, I really don\u2019t think\u201d\u2014began Bill. He thought, the same old\nHank, always generous, always impulsive.\nBut Hank was going on with his plan. \u201cListen, I won\u2019t take \u2018no\u2019 for an\nanswer. You fly my plane. And you can fly it up to the Canadian cabin if\nyou want to. Then a perfectly swell vacation plan won\u2019t be entirely\nthrown away. How about it? The cabin is all ready to move into. They\u2019ve\nbeen fixing it up for me. What do you say? Are you game?\u201d\n\u201cGame?\u201d said Bill. \u201cGee, I\u2019m crazy about the idea. But I don\u2019t see why\nyou should do this for me.\u201d\nHank was embarrassed. \u201cYou\u2019ve been pretty decent to me in other times,\nremember that, Bill, old boy,\u201d he said.\n\u201cForget it,\u201d said Bill.\nHank turned to the boys. \u201cBill here shot down a Boche when the Boche was\nall but stepping on my tail. Those were the days, eh, Bill?\u201d\n\u201cYou bet,\u201d said Bill. \u201cWe sure were glad to get back alive. Remember old\nLufbery? Raoul of the Lafayette Escadrille? There was a boy who could\nshoot them down. Six out of seven in one day. Not bad flying, that. They\nused to get pretty close to Raoul themselves. He\u2019d come in with his\nclothes ripped with bullets, but ready to go right out again with the\nnext patrol. Then one day he got his, and there wasn\u2019t a man there that\nwouldn\u2019t have given everything he had to save him, either. He\u2019d gone up\nafter a German that nobody seemed able to down. Lufbery climbed up to\nget above him, and dove. But something went wrong with his plane\u2014God\nknows what, and those who were watching from the ground saw it burst\ninto flame. Then they saw him stand on the edge of the cockpit and jump.\nIt was horrible. But it was the only way for Lufbery to die\u2014with his\nplane. He wanted it that way.\u201d\nThen Hank said, \u201cAnd Bill Thaw! There was another flying fool. Bill was\ngreat fun\u2014always laughing and joking, just as if his next flight might\nnot be his last. Remember what he did to those three German planes when\nthey got fresh with him, Bill?\u201d He turned to the boys. \u201cThaw,\u201d he\nexplained, \u201cwas coming back from his regular patrol, when he suddenly\ncame face to face with three German planes. One of them maneuvered to\nhis left, the second to his right, and the third dove below him to fire\nup. Well, Bill had to think fast, and he did. He side-slipped until he\nwas directly over the plane below him, and fired down. One gone. Then he\npulled himself out of a steep dive, and went after the second plane. A\nquick swoop, and a steep bank, a rapid burst of fire, and the second\nGerman went down in a burning nose dive.\n\u201cFrom then on it was nip and tuck, and each man for himself, dog eat\ndog. It was a pretty even battle. The German was plucky, and ripped into\nThaw for all he was worth. But one lucky turn, one accurate shot, and\nThaw had him. Down went his plane. Thaw, his plane in ribbons, his\nclothes bullet-riddled, limped home, stepped out of his plane with a\nsmile, and a joke on his lips.\u201d\n\u201cGolly,\u201d said Bob, \u201cthat must have been great fun. I wish I\u2019d been\nthere.\u201d\n\u201cWhat would we have done with a baby in swaddling clothes?\u201d laughed\nBill.\n\u201cAw,\u201d said Bob, \u201cyou know I mean if I was old enough.\u201d\nHank was looking into the distance, with the far-away look that meant\nanother story was coming on, and Bob stopped talking.\nFinally Hank said, \u201cRemember Luke and Wehner? What a team! You never saw\ntwo men so different in your life. Frank Luke talked a lot\u2014not always\nthe most modest fellow in the world, either, and made a great to-do\nabout everything he did. But he sure did plenty of damage to the\nGermans. Joe Wehner was quiet, modest, never talked very much, and never\nabout himself. But still they were always together. Came to be known as\n\u2018The Luke and Wehner Duo.\u2019\n\u201cThey worked together, too. Went out on the same patrol and always stuck\ntogether. Luke\u2019s specialty was shooting down Drachens. Those were the\nGerman observation balloons that they sent up behind their lines to\nobserve what was going on in the American lines. Of course, the\ninformation they got caused plenty of harm, and anybody who shot down a\nDrachen was doing a lot of good. But the things were expensive and\nuseful, and the Germans sent them up with plenty of protection. There\nwas always a swarm of planes flying around them and ready to light into\nany stranger that came near.\n\u201cLuke and Wehner used to take care of that. Wehner would fly above Luke,\nlooking out for any plane that might come to attack him. If one hove in\nsight, Wehner would go for him and engage him while Luke flew on and\nshot down the balloon. Balloon after balloon went down. The Germans were\ngetting wary.\n\u201cOne day when Luke and Wehner were on their way to see what they could\ndo about three Drachens that were watching the American lines, they met\nup with a formation of Fokkers. Wehner dived into the uneven battle.\nLuke flew on, and shot down one, then the other bag. But the gallant\nWehner had fought his last fight. One of the Fokkers downed him. Luke,\nwho saw what had happened to his pal, left the remaining balloon and\nfuriously charged the Fokkers. He fought like mad, zooming, diving,\nspurting fire into those German planes. Two of them hurtled to the\nground. The others fled. Luke started for home. On his way he engaged\nand downed another enemy plane. It was a record that on any other day he\nwould have boasted about. But not that day. His pal had been killed, and\nLuke was for once silent and speechless.\n\u201cOf course, he didn\u2019t give up balloon breaking. He added up a goodly\nstore. But one day he got his, like so many of them. He\u2019d sent three\nDrachens down in flames that day, when his own plane was so badly\ncrippled, and he was so badly wounded that he was forced to land. He\nwouldn\u2019t let them take him, though, and he died fighting. When a band of\nGerman soldiers approached him, he pulled out his gun and shot six of\nthem before he fell dead.\u201d\nIt was Bill\u2019s turn. \u201cOf course you boys have heard of Eddie\nRickenbacker. There was an ace for you. If it was speed and trick flying\nthat you wanted, Eddie was the man to give it to you. He had a bag of\ntricks that would get any pursuit plane off his tail. But he didn\u2019t\nalways use them. He didn\u2019t have 26 planes to his credit for nothing.\nEddie was a great ace and a great scout.\u201d\nHank interrupted. \u201cHere we go gassing again like two old fogies. I feel\nlike my own grandfather sitting on the front porch and discussing the\nbattle of Bull Run. We are getting old, aren\u2019t we, Bill? These\nyoungsters ought to be glad that they didn\u2019t have to fly those old buses\nthat we used, though. The new planes are great to fly. You two are going\nto have a grand time. I\u2019d rather fly than travel any other way. But I\ndon\u2019t think that it would be quite the thing to suggest to my wife now\nthat I would rather fly to Europe with her than take the boat. So old\nHank will be a land animal this time. Or rather, a water animal, instead\nof a bird.\u201d\n\u201cA sort of\u2014fish?\u201d laughed Bill.\n\u201cShut up, you,\u201d said Hank. \u201cNow, listen, how about that offer of my\ncabin and my plane for your vacation? It\u2019ll be a grand trip, and I\nguarantee that you\u2019ll like the cabin on the mountain. Nobody around for\nmiles, except Jake, who takes care of the place for me. In fact, there\u2019s\nno town for a hundred miles around. About the only practical way of\ngetting there is by plane. Just think, old man, all of that beauty and\nsolitude going begging. You can get right back to nature there, live a\nwild life, or have all the conveniences of home, whichever you chose.\nWe\u2019ve got the place all fixed up. It\u2019s a real man\u2019s place, and you\u2019ll\nlove it. And I\u2019d like to see somebody who\u2019d appreciate it have it this\nsummer. And I know you would.\u201d\nBill looked at Hank, who was talking so earnestly, with a puzzled look.\n\u201cListen, Hank,\u201d he said, \u201cyou aren\u2019t trying to persuade me to go up\nthere as a favor to you, are you? Because if you are, you\u2019re crazy. It\u2019s\ncertainly not you who should be doing the begging. We ought to be down\non our hands and knees begging you for the place. The only reason I\nhesitate at all is because I think it\u2019s too much you\u2019re doing for us.\u201d\nHank snorted. \u201cThen you\u2019re going to take the place.\u201d\nBill looked at him fondly, seeing through the strange marks that time\nhad left on this man, the young, awkward boy whom he had befriended in\nFrance, when he had been just a young fellow himself, but not so green\nas the other. Then he said, \u201cWhat do you say we leave it up to the\nboys?\u201d He turned to them. \u201cWhat do you say, Bob? How does a vacation up\nin the mountains sound to you?\u201d\nBob, his eyes shining, could hardly answer. He hadn\u2019t wanted to show too\nmuch eagerness before because he had remembered his manners just in\ntime, and was watching Bill to see how they should respond to Hank\nBrown\u2019s generous offer. But now that he saw that Bill was favorably\ndisposed, he breathed, \u201cOh, gee, I think that it would be great! Just\ngreat! Let\u2019s go, Bill.\u201d\nHank was amused and pleased by this enthusiasm.\nThe Captain turned to Hal. \u201cHow about you?\u201d\nHal, who had forgotten his misery during the recital of the exciting\nstories of war aces, and was once more fired with ambition, now that he\nwas safely on the ground, was almost as enthusiastic. \u201cBut,\u201d he said as\nan afterthought, \u201cI don\u2019t know whether I could go, of course. My\nmother\u2014\u201d his voice trailed off.\nBill reached over and grasped Hank\u2019s hand. \u201cWe\u2019ll take it, old scout.\nDon\u2019t know how to thank you.\u201d\n\u201cDon\u2019t,\u201d said Hank. \u201cI\u2019m glad you\u2019re going to go. All you have to do is\nto wire to Jake when you\u2019re coming. He lights bonfires to mark the\nlanding field, and there you are. I\u2019m going to be in town for two weeks,\nso you can come up any time to make arrangements. O.K.? Now I\u2019ve got to\ngo. I\u2019ve been spending too much time as it is. Wish I could stay and see\nPat, but I can\u2019t. Tell him to come up and see me, will you?\u201d\nHe bid them goodbye and left in his automobile which had been parked\nnearby. The next hour was spent in an exciting inspection of the various\nplanes in the airport, from tiny two-seater monoplanes that looked like\nfragile toys, to huge biplanes; and in a growing impatience with Pat\u2019s\ndelay. Finally a tiny speck appeared on the horizon, but the three of\nthem had been disappointed so often that they did not dare to hope that\nthis was at last Pat McDermott. But it was. He stepped out of the green\nmonoplane and pushing up his goggles, looked around him. He spied his\nthree friends immediately, and hurried to meet them.\n\u201cHi, Irish!\u201d called Captain Bill. \u201cI want you to meet two pals of mine.\u201d\nHe introduced Bob and Hal. \u201cWe\u2019re going to teach them to fly.\u201d\nThe two boys shook hands with Pat. He looked like his name, a tall,\nbroad, husky man with a shock of curly hair that had probably once been\nred, but which was now brown, with a little gray at the temples; a young\nface\u2014it was impossible to tell how old he was; and a broad grin that\nspread across his face and up around his eyes, disappearing into the\nroots of his hair.\n\u201cWell,\u201d he said, without ceremony, as though he had been friends of\ntheirs for years, \u201cThey\u2019ll make good flyers if they\u2019re not too lazy. And\nif anybody can make you work, I can. And I will.\u201d\nThe Captain laughed. \u201cDon\u2019t take Pat seriously,\u201d he said. \u201cHe\u2019s too lazy\nto make you work very hard. But let me warn you that he\u2019s trained army\nflyers, so you\u2019d better not mind what he says, while he\u2019s teaching you.\u201d\nThe boys had gone over and were looking at the Marianne. She was a\nbeautifully stream-lined craft, large yet graceful.\nPat noticed the boys\u2019 admiration, and was pleased. \u201cHow about taking a\nride in her now?\u201d he asked.\n\u201cThey just got down to earth,\u201d said the Captain. He explained about Hank\nand Hank\u2019s plane. Pat was delighted that their old pal had turned up,\nand decided that they would have to have a reunion very soon. He also\ndecided on the spot that he was going along with them to the mountains.\n\u201cTry to keep me away. Although I don\u2019t much fancy the riding on\ncushions, in a fancy plane. When I fly, I want to fly. But if you let me\ndo the piloting, I\u2019ll make the best of that.\u201d Pat always decided things\nthat way, but nobody resented his high-hand manner, since he looked, and\nwas, the sort of man who could make good on any job he undertook. \u201cWell,\nBob, my lad,\u201d he said, turning to the boy, \u201chow about going up? It\u2019s the\nfirst step in learning to fly. And don\u2019t think that it\u2019s going to be\nlike cabin flying. You\u2019ll notice the difference when you get up. Ready?\u201d\n\u201cSure,\u201d said Bob.\nPat produced a helmet and some goggles. \u201cIt\u2019s an open cockpit you\u2019re\nsitting in,\u201d he said. \u201cAnd see that the goggles fit tightly.\u201d\nBob wiggled them around. \u201cThey seem all right,\u201d he said.\n\u201cAll right, hop in,\u201d Pat told him.\nBob climbed into the rear cockpit, no less thrilled by his second flight\nthat day than he had been by his first. He waved his hand to the Captain\nand Hal who were watching them. Pat climbed into the front cockpit.\n\u201cReady?\u201d he called.\n\u201cO. K!\u201d shouted Bob.\nPat started the motor, which was a self-starter. The plane taxied gently\nacross the field, and Pat turned her nose into the wind. Bob felt her\nlift from the earth; there was a bump\u2014they hadn\u2019t quite cleared; Pat\nspeeded up, until Bob, looking over the side of the cockpit, could see\nthe ground slipping by dizzily. Then the bumping stopped; they had left\nthe ground. This time they did not again bump; the Marianne soared into\nthe air.\nBob could feel the blast of air against his face, and he was glad his\ngoggles fitted well. The motor roared, the wind screamed. Bob tried to\nshout, but could not hear himself uttering a sound. He looked down. The\nairport looked as it had from the other plane. Now he had more of the\nfeeling of flying. There was a sudden bump. The Marianne dropped\nsuddenly. Bob felt as though he were in an elevator that had descended\nvery suddenly\u2014there was the same pit-of-the-stomach feeling. Air bump,\nhe thought, and it was. He looked over the side again, and could see\nnothing. They were traveling pretty high.\nThen suddenly the roar of the motor stopped, and they began to descend\nat what Bob felt must be an almost unbelievable speed. At first Bob was\nfrightened, but then realized that they were gliding down. Every now and\nthen Pat turned on his engine again. Bob, looking over the side, could\nsee the fields coming up to meet them. They landed so gently that he\nhardly felt the jolt of the wheels touching the ground.\nHow funny to stand on the stable ground once more! The sound of the\nmotor was still roaring in Bob\u2019s ears. He pulled off the goggles and\nhelmet. \u201cIt was marvelous!\u201d he shouted loudly to his friends.\n\u201cWe can hear you,\u201d said the Captain. \u201cYou needn\u2019t shout!\u201d\n\u201cWas I shouting?\u201d laughed Bob.\n\u201cYou are,\u201d said the Captain.\nBut Pat had turned to Hal. \u201cWell, lad, you\u2019re next.\u201d\nBut Hal said what he had been rehearsing for many minutes, in fact, ever\nsince Bob had taken to the air. \u201cDon\u2019t you think it\u2019s rather late? We\nhaven\u2019t had any lunch. Maybe we could go up again after lunch.\u201d\nCaptain Bill, who knew the struggle that was going on in Hal\u2019s heart,\nand who was getting hungry anyway, said, \u201cLunch. That\u2019s the idea. We\u2019ve\ngot a great picnic lunch, Pat.\u201d\n\u201cLead me to it,\u201d said Pat.\n\u201cKnew that would get you,\u201d laughed the Captain.\nThey left the plane in charge of a mechanic, who was to look after it,\nand went over to the automobile that the Captain had parked. They\ndecided, on Bob\u2019s suggestion, to eat on a grassy slope from which they\ncould see the airport.\n\u201cI\u2019ve got an idea,\u201d said the Captain. \u201cYou can start your story about\nLindbergh.\u201d\n\u201cI\u2019m ready,\u201d said Bob, \u201cif you\u2019re ready to listen. I think I know the\nstory backwards and forward.\u201d\n\u201cBegin at the beginning, always,\u201d the Captain warned.\nThey reached the spot where they had chosen to picnic, and settled back\ncontentedly in the long grass to hear part of Bob\u2019s story before lunch.\nCHAPTER V\u2014The Eagle\n\u201cWell,\u201d began Bob, \u201cI guess my story isn\u2019t going to be very new to any\nof you. Gee, I know it almost by heart, and I suppose everybody else\ndoes, too.\u201d\n\u201cDon\u2019t apologize,\u201d said the Captain. \u201cWe\u2019ll be only too glad to stop you\nif we\u2019ve heard it before. I don\u2019t think that we will, though. It\u2019s a\nstory that bears repeating.\u201d\nBob\u2019s eyes lighted up. \u201cYou bet,\u201d he said. \u201cI never get tired of reading\nabout it.\u201d He plucked at the grass beside him. \u201cGee, it makes a fellow\nwant to do things. It makes him feel that the older folks don\u2019t know\neverything\u2014\u201d\n\u201cA-hem,\u201d interrupted Captain Bill.\nBob laughed. \u201cYou\u2019re not old folks, old bean. Don\u2019t flatter yourself.\nAnyway, they told Lindbergh that he couldn\u2019t do it. They told him that\nhis plane was carrying too much, and he\u2019d never be able to make it\nalone.\u201d\n\u201cDid he?\u201d said Pat.\nBob looked at him disgustedly. \u201cDid he! Don\u2019t make fun of me, you old\nIrishman!\u201d\nThe old Irishman looked grieved. \u201cWell, I just wanted to know. I\u2019m\nalways willing to learn somethin\u2019 new. And you\u2019d better get started, or\nwe\u2019ll never know. We\u2019ll be leaving the lad up in the air, so to speak.\u201d\n\u201cIgnore that ape,\u201d said Captain Bill, \u201cand proceed.\u201d\n\u201cLindbergh didn\u2019t listen to them. He just went ahead and did what he\nthought was right, and by golly, he was right. It makes a fellow feel\nthat even if he is young he can do things. He doesn\u2019t just have to sit\naround and do what everybody else has done before. There\u2019s got to be a\nfirst every time. Lindy wasn\u2019t afraid just because nobody had ever flown\nthe Atlantic alone before, and the wiseacres said that it couldn\u2019t be\ndone. He just went ahead and flew it.\u201d\n\u201cIt wasn\u2019t as easy as all that,\u201d quietly remarked Hal.\nBob turned to him. \u201cOf course not. Lindy had planned every move that he\nwas going to make. He was prepared for anything. That\u2019s why he\u2019s always\nso successful. He has his plans all laid before he ever takes off. He\u2019s\ngot all the courage in the world, but he\u2019s not reckless.\u201d\n\u201cPut that under your hat, my lad. It\u2019s a good lesson to know by heart\nwhen you\u2019re going into the flying game.\u201d\n\u201cYou bet,\u201d said Bob. \u201cGee, it needed a lot of courage for him to make\nthat take-off. I\u2019ve got the date down here. It was May 20, 1927, on a\nFriday. That must have been an exciting morning down at Roosevelt Field.\nHe made up his mind on Thursday afternoon. They told him that the\nweather was all right over the North Atlantic, and that it would be best\nif he started out the next morning.\n\u201cHe didn\u2019t tell anybody about his plans. He never talks very much\nanyway. Everybody found that out later. It was all sort of secret. He\njust told his mechanics to get the Spirit of St. Louis ready, and keep\ntheir mouths shut. I guess he didn\u2019t want everybody messing around with\nhis plans. But the men who delivered his gasoline weren\u2019t so secret, I\nguess, and somehow his plans leaked out Thursday night.\n\u201cThat Thursday night was pretty awful. It was raining, and the weather\ncould be cut with a knife. But once people found out that Slim was going\nto start, they began to come around to Curtiss Field, and at two o\u2019clock\nin the morning there was a big crowd of them standing around in the rain\nand mud. Slim wasn\u2019t leaving from Curtiss, though, and they towed his\nplane by truck over to Roosevelt. They got there just about when it was\ngetting light.\n\u201cThere was a crowd over at Curtiss, too. But Slim didn\u2019t care. Crowds\nnever mean much to him. He saw a whole lot more of them later on, too,\nbut he never was one to strut or show off. He just got into his\nfur-lined suit, and waited for the men to start his engine. Somebody\nasked him if he had only five sandwiches and two canteens of water.\n\u2018Sure,\u2019 he said. \u2018If I get to Paris, I won\u2019t need any more, and if I\ndon\u2019t get there, I won\u2019t need any more, either.\u2019 It was just like him to\nsay that, but the real reason he didn\u2019t take any more was because he had\ntoo much weight already. He had over 200 gallons of gas, and the load\nwas heavy. He had to cut down on everything that wasn\u2019t absolutely\nnecessary.\n\u201cWell, they started his motor for him. The plane was standing on the\nRoosevelt runway, which is pretty smooth, and five thousand feet long.\nThe weather had cleared up a little. And there was the monoplane looking\nall silver and slick, roaring away for all it was worth. Lindy said\ngoodbye to his mother, and to Byrd and Chamberlin and Acosta, who were\nplanning their own trips across the Atlantic, and then he stepped into\nthe cockpit, and closed the door.\n\u201cHe raced his motor a little bit. She must have sounded pretty sweet to\nhim, because he gave her the gun, and off he went. That start must have\nbeen one of the hardest parts of the whole trip. The Spirit of St. Louis\nbumped along that muddy runway, and the people watching thought she\u2019d go\nover on her nose any moment. She was over-loaded. Her motor was pulling\nfor all she was worth, but it didn\u2019t seem as though they\u2019d ever make it.\nShe went off the ground a few feet, and bounced down again. But then the\ncrowd held its breath. She was leaving the ground. They were up about\nfifteen feet. And there were telegraph wires in their path. If they hit\nthose, the trip to Paris was over right then. But they didn\u2019t. The\nlanding gear cleared by a few inches. That crowd simply roared. But Slim\ndidn\u2019t hear them. He was on his way to Paris.\u201d\nBob paused for breath. He had been talking very fast, carried away by\nhis story. The others did not speak, but sat waiting for him to go on.\nThey had all heard the story before, but as the Captain had said, it\nbore repeating, and they could hear it again and again. There was\nsomething agelessly appealing in the tale of that young man\u2019s feat.\nBob was talking again. \u201cI\u2019m not much at poetry,\u201d he said.\n\u201cYou bet you\u2019re not,\u201d said Captain Bill. \u201cI\u2019ve read some of yours.\u201d\nBob glared at him. \u201cI never wrote a poem!\u201d he said defensively.\nThe Captain looked contrite. \u201cIt must have been Hal,\u201d he said. \u201cI beg\nyour pardon. Go on with your story. Where does the poetry come in?\u201d\n\u201cI was going to tell you, before you interrupted, so rudely, that\nthere\u2019s somebody who\u2019s written a poem\u2014a lot of poetry, to music\u2014a\ncantata I think they call it. It\u2019s about Lindy\u2019s flight, and it tells\nthe story of the flight across the Atlantic. I guess it\u2019s pretty\nthrilling. Maybe that\u2019s the only way the story can be told\u2014in poetry and\nmusic, because it always sounds pretty flat when you just say Lindy flew\nacross the Atlantic in a monoplane. It needs music, with a lot of\ntrumpets\u2014\u201d\n\u201cGo on, go on, my lad. More words, less music.\u201d Pat seemed to be getting\nimpatient. The sun was pretty high over their heads now, and bees were\nbuzzing drowsily in the tall grass all around them. Hal had stretched\nout on his stomach, facing the little group, which was seated now in a\nsemi-circle. \u201cI\u2019ll be falling asleep if you don\u2019t get on.\u201d\nBob laughed embarrassedly. \u201cAll right, you just stop me if I get to\nrambling. You keep me straight, Irish.\u201d\nCaptain Bill leaned back on a hummock of earth, his arms folded behind\nhis head. \u201cI\u2019m so comfortable, I could listen to anything, even to Bob\ntelling a story. Go on, Bob.\u201d\n\u201cOne more crack, and you don\u2019t hear anything,\u201d said Bob. \u201cRemember the\nrules, no interruptions from the gallery.\u201d\n\u201cWe stand corrected. Go on.\u201d\nBob settled himself once again into the grass. \u201cWell, we\u2019ve got Lindy\ninto the air. No sooner had he set out when people began reporting that\nthey\u2019d seen him. Some of them had. A lot of them were just excited\nindividuals who\u2019d heard a motorcycle back-firing. But somebody actually\ndid see him flying over Rhode Island, and about two hours, nearly, after\nhe had set out, they flashed back that he\u2019d been seen at Halifax,\nMassachusetts. Then he dropped out of sight. Nobody reported seeing him.\nThat was because he took an over-water route, and was out some distance,\nflying along the coast of New England.\n\u201cThey saw him next over Nova Scotia, running along nicely, and then\nSpringfield, Nova Scotia saw him. It was about one o\u2019clock, and he was\ngoing strong. But he was getting into a dangerous region, cold and\nfoggy. They had watchers looking for him everywhere. Lindy left Nova\nScotia at Cape Breton, headed for Newfoundland. It was pretty stiff\ngoing, about 200 miles without sight of land, and over a pretty\ntreacherous sea. But at 7:15 they saw him flying low over St. John\u2019s, in\nNewfoundland. They could see the number on the wings, and sent back word\nto the world that he had passed there. And that was the last word that\nanybody received that Friday.\n\u201cThe going had been pretty good until then. The weather was clear, and\nthe ceiling pretty high. But as soon as it got dark, Lindy and his plane\nhit some pretty bad weather. It grew mighty cold, and a thick swirling\nfog came up and swallowed up the plane. This was mighty tough, because\nif he flew low, he was bound to run into one of the icebergs that were\nfloating in the icy sea. So he climbed up to about 10,000 feet, and\nstayed there. Flying high was all right, but it added another danger.\nIce was forming on the wings of the Spirit of St. Louis, and if it got\nthick enough, it would break off a wing of the plane, and send the plane\nand Lindy into the sea.\n\u201cLindy could have turned back, but he didn\u2019t. He kept right on, through\nfog and sleet and rain. His motor never missed. It was a good pal, and\nno wonder he included it in his feat, and said later that \u2018we crossed\nthe Atlantic.\u2019\n\u201cWhen morning came, a whole flock of cables came, too. It seems a whole\nlot of ships had sighted Lindy\u2019s plane, or somebody\u2019s plane, anywhere\nfrom 500 to 100 miles off the coast of Ireland, where he was headed.\nNobody knew who to believe, but at 10:00 o\u2019clock came the real news,\nthat he was over a place called Valencia, Ireland.\n\u201cLindy wondered where he was, himself. Flying blind as he had, he didn\u2019t\nknow just where he had come out. So he decided to ask the first person\nhe met. Now you can imagine the air roads weren\u2019t full of planes flying\nto Ireland, and Lindy had to wait until he sighted a fishing schooner.\nHe swooped low and shouted out, \u2018Am I headed for Ireland?\u2019 The fishermen\nwere so astounded that they couldn\u2019t answer, so Lindy flew on his\ncourse, depending as he had all night, on his compass. Pretty soon he\ncame in sight of land, and knew that it was Ireland.\u201d\n\u201cBecause it was so beautiful,\u201d said Pat.\n\u201cNo, because it was rocky, and his maps indicated that the land would be\nrocky,\u201d said Bob.\n\u201cOh, no doubt he could tell it was Ireland,\u201d insisted Pat. \u201cHis mother\nwas Irish, you know, and it needs mighty little Irish blood to make a\nman long for the ould sod.\u201d\n\u201cWell, anyway, there he was over Ireland,\u201d put in Bob, pointedly. \u201cAnd\nfrom Ireland, on to England, and from England, on to France. Along the\nSeine, and then Paris. They were waiting for him at Le Bourget, and sent\nup flares and rockets, long before he got there. Maybe they weren\u2019t\nexcited when he flew into range! It was about 8:30, that is, French\ntime, but about 5:30 New York time, when Lindy and the Spirit of St.\nLouis circled around the landing field at Le Bourget and landed. Golly,\nI wish I\u2019d been there. The first man in the world to fly the Atlantic,\nlanding before my very eyes! He\u2019d gone 3,640 miles, and had made it in\n33\u00bd hours. Some going!\n\u201cWell, he was there. And he got out of the plane. And you all know what\nhe said when he got out. I\u2014\u201d\n\u201cI am Charles Lindbergh,\u201d said Captain Bill and Pat, not quite in\nunison.\n\u201cYup,\u201d said Bob, \u201c\u2018I am Charles Lindbergh.\u2019 He thought that they\nwouldn\u2019t know who he was. He\u2019d been flying pretty low over Ireland and\nEngland, and so far as he could see, nobody had paid much attention to\nhim. So he introduced himself, just as though every man, woman and child\nin every civilized country wasn\u2019t saying that very name all through the\nday. Remember when we heard the news over the radio, Hal? We were so\nexcited we nearly upset the furniture. Golly, that was a day.\n\u201cWell, that was Slim Lindbergh\u2019s flight, and now about Slim himself. He\nwas born in Detroit, Michigan, on February 2, 1902, and that means that\nhe was only twenty-five years old when he made his greatest flight,\nwhich is pretty young to become the most famous man in the world.\n\u201cHis dad was Charles A. Lindbergh, and he died in 1924, when he was\nrunning for governor of Minnesota on the Farmer-Labor ticket. He\u2019d been\na Representative in Congress before. Lindy and he were great pals, and\nplayed around together a lot. Lindy\u2019s mother was Irish, and taught\nschool in Detroit.\n\u201cLindy went to school in Little Falls, and to Little Falls High School.\nHe graduated from there when he was 16. He was good in Math and in other\nthings he liked, but not in grammar.\n\u201cLindy didn\u2019t go right to college. In fact, he didn\u2019t go until three\nyears after he\u2019d graduated from high school, and then he went to the\nUniversity of Wisconsin, to take up mechanical engineering. He was good\nat that. He\u2019d always liked to tinker, and he got his chance there. He\ndid at college just what you\u2019d expect him to do. He had some friends and\nacquaintances, but mostly he kept to himself. He was the same quiet, shy\nperson that everybody got to know later, when he became famous.\n\u201cSlim didn\u2019t stay at Wisconsin very long, so we don\u2019t know what he would\nhave finally done there. He went over to Lincoln, Nebraska, where they\nhad a flying school, and asked them to teach him to fly. They taught him\nthe beginnings of flying, and from the moment his hands touched the\ncontrols, he knew that this was what he was cut out for. He just took\nnaturally to those levers and gadgets, and could handle his plane like a\ntoy.\n\u201cIt seems that Lindy was born to be a pilot. He\u2019s built for one, in the\nfirst place. Long and rangy, and slim. No extra weight, but plenty of\nmuscle and endurance. He\u2019s got a lot of nerve and never gets excited He\nshowed that when he got himself elected to the Caterpillar Club. But\nI\u2019ll get to that later.\u201d Here Bob paused, and looked up at the sun,\nwhich was just slipping a little westward. \u201cSay,\u201d he said. \u201cWould you\nfolks mind if I continued my story later? I feel just a little empty.\nHow about the food?\u201d\n\u201cI\u2019ve been thinking that for a long time,\u201d said the Captain. \u201cBut rules\nare rules. I didn\u2019t want to interrupt you.\u201d\nBob snorted. \u201cSay, for food you can interrupt me any time. Let\u2019s go.\u201d\nHe jumped up, stretched himself, and made for the car, to get out the\nhuge hamper of lunch. \u201cSay,\u201d he called back, \u201cLindy may have been\nsatisfied with five sandwiches all the way to Paris, but darned if I\ncouldn\u2019t eat five right now.\u201d He carried the hamper over to the knoll\nwhere the others were. They were all standing now, limbering up,\nstretching, sniffing the good air, and looking eagerly toward the food.\n\u201cHere, lend a hand,\u201d said Bob. He plumped down the basket so that they\ncould hear the rattle of forks and tin cups within, and sat down beside\nit.\n\u201cYou\u2019re the host,\u201d said Hal, seating himself comfortably on the grass\nand looking on. \u201cIt\u2019s your party. We have to listen to your story, so\nthe least you can do is feed us.\u201d\nBob had opened the hamper, and was viewing its contents eagerly. He\ndived into the basket. \u201cSay, anybody who doesn\u2019t help himself, doesn\u2019t\neat. Fall to.\u201d\nThey fell to, doing much eating but little talking. Finally Bob sat\nback, a sandwich in one hand, a cup of steaming coffee out of the\nthermos bottle in the other. \u201cI have a suspicion,\u201d he said, \u201cthat you\ndon\u2019t like my story.\u201d\n\u201cDon\u2019t get ideas like that, Bob, my lad,\u201d said Pat. \u201cWe love your story.\nWe just like sandwiches better.\u201d\n\u201cAll right, then I won\u2019t finish,\u201d said Bob. \u201cI\u2019m going to be\nindependent.\u201d\nHal looked up. \u201cNot finish? You\u2019ve got finish any story you start.\u201d\n\u201cOne of the rules? There aren\u2019t any rules. You just made that up.\u201d\nHal was cajoling now. \u201cAw, come on, Bob. We want to hear the end. Come\non, tell us the rest.\u201d\nBob bit into a huge slice of cake. He shook his head. \u201cNope, no end.\u201d\n\u201cWell, at least about the Caterpillar Club. At least you\u2019ll tell us how\nLindy saved his life by bailing out. We\u2019ve got to hear that.\u201d\nBut Bob was adamant. \u201cI\u2019ve been insulted. I\u2019m not going on. Anyway,\nLindy didn\u2019t save his life once by bailing out of a plane.\u201d\n\u201cHe didn\u2019t? You said a little while ago that he did.\u201d\n\u201cI didn\u2019t say once. He became eligible to the Caterpillar Club four\ntimes.\u201d\nHal looked at Bob with disgust. \u201cI must say that you\u2019re being very\ndisagreeable.\u201d\nCaptain Bill, who had been looking on in amusement, suddenly laughed\nvery loudly. \u201cDon\u2019t coax him, Hal. He doesn\u2019t need coaxing. He\u2019s going\nto tell the rest of the story, don\u2019t you worry. Wild horses couldn\u2019t\nkeep him from finishing the tale. Could they, Bob, old man?\u201d\nBob looked over at his uncle and grinned. \u201cWhy, you old sinner. What a\nway to talk about your favorite nephew. But now that you mention it,\nmaybe I did intend to finish the story, seeing that I\u2019d started it. Now,\nwhere was I?\u201d\nPat was clearing up the debris made by four men eating a picnic lunch.\n\u201cYou\u2019ve got Lindbergh at the Nebraska flying school for a long time.\u201d\n\u201cOh, not very long,\u201d said Bob. \u201cYou see, he stayed there really a short\ntime. In fact, he never did any solo flying there.\u201d\n\u201cWell, why not?\u201d asked Hal.\n\u201cThey asked for a five-hundred dollar bond from every student before he\nwent up on his first solo flight. This seemed silly to Lindy, and he\nleft the school.\n\u201cWhen he left, he did what so many of the flyers were doing then. He\nwent out west, and did stunting, risking his neck at county fairs and\nair circuses to give the people a thrill. He did, too. He handled his\nplane like a toy, doing rolls, tail spins, and every kind of stunt\nimaginable. But the most exciting thing that he did, and it usually\nisn\u2019t an exciting thing at all, was landing his plane. He could land on\na dime, and as lightly as a feather. That\u2019s really piloting, isn\u2019t it,\nBill?\u201d\n\u201cYou bet,\u201d said the Captain. He was sprawled out on his back, enjoying\nhis after dinner rest. \u201cA landing will show you your flyer\u2019s ability\nevery time. Provided, of course, that he has a fairly decent landing\nfield. Did I ever tell you the story that Hawks tells in his\nautobiography? Do you mind if I interrupt for just a minute, Bob?\u201d\n\u201cOh, no, go right ahead,\u201d said Bob, witheringly. \u201cGo right ahead. I was\njust telling a story.\u201d\n\u201cThanks,\u201d said Captain Bill with a grin. \u201cI will. Well, it seems that\nHawks was stunting down in Mexico, and doing quite a bit of private\nflying. He got a commission to fly a Congressman and a General, I think\nit was, back to their home town of Huatemo. Have you ever heard of\nHuatemo? I thought not. Well, Huatemo had never seen an airplane close\nup, and the two high muckamucks decided that they\u2019d give the natives a\nthrill by coming back via plane. Hawks had them wire ahead to have a\nlanding field prepared. The native officials wired that they had a fine\nfield, clear of all obstructions, but dotted with a few small trees.\n\u2018Fine, says Hawks, but have them remove the trees immediately.\u2019 The\nnatives said that this had been done, and the party started out.\n\u201cAfter several adventures, Hawks flew over Huatemo, and prepared to\nspiral down to the landing field. Imagine his chagrin and surprise, my\ndear boys, when he discovered, that the officials of Huatemo had indeed\ncut down the Huateman trees, but had left the stumps standing!\u201d\n\u201cWhew,\u201d said Bob. \u201cWhat did he do, turn around?\u201d\n\u201cNo, he couldn\u2019t. And anyway, there was no other place to land. The\nfield was surrounded by dense forests. He had to make it. He brought his\nplane down without hitting a stump, and then zig-zagged wildly from\nstump to stump like a croquet ball trying to miss wickets. And he missed\nthem all, too, except one. The wheel hit it an awful smack, and\ncollapsed. The plane tilted up on its nose, and came to rest with its\npropeller in the ground and its tail waving gayly in the air, not at all\nlike a proper plane should.\u201d\n\u201cAnd killed them all,\u201d said Pat.\n\u201cWho, Hawks? Not on your life. He\u2019s a lucky fellow. Not one of them was\nhurt. They climbed out of the plane, and were greeted by the natives,\njoyously and with acclaim. And not one of the natives seemed to suspect\nin the least that this wasn\u2019t the way a plane should land. Or at least\nthe way a crazy American would land a plane.\u201d The Captain finished his\nstory, and paused.\n\u201cWell,\u201d said Bob grudgingly, \u201cthat was a good story, too. But, as I was\nsaying, Lindy was a good stunter, and a good flyer. He decided that he\nwanted a plane of his own. He heard that there was going to be a sale of\narmy planes down in Georgia, and he went down and bought a Curtiss Jenny\nwith the money that he had saved from his stunting work. He fixed it up,\nand was soon off barnstorming again. But I guess the Jenny was too\nclumsy a boat for Lindy. He wanted to fly the newer, better planes that\nthe army had. So he joined the army\u2019s training school at Brook Field,\nSan Antonio. This was when he was 22 years old.\n\u201cI guess he got along pretty fine at San Antonio, and he was sent down\nto the pursuit school at Kelly Field. He joined the Caterpillar Club\nthere. It was the first time that he had to jump from a moving plane and\nget down with his parachute. I guess it was a pretty close shave.\u201d\n\u201cGee, how did it happen?\u201d said Hal, his eyes wide.\n\u201cWait a second, I\u2019m coming to it,\u201d said Bob. \u201cHe and another officer\nwere to go up and attack another plane that they called the enemy. It\nwas a sort of problem they had to work out. Well, Slim dove at the enemy\nfrom the left, and the other fellow from the right. The enemy plane\npulled up, but Lindy and the other officer kept on going, dead toward\neach other. There was an awful crack, and their wings locked. The two\nplanes began to spin around and drop through the air. Lindy did the only\nthing there was to do. He kept his head, stepped out on one of the\ndamaged wings, and stepped off backwards. He didn\u2019t pull the rip-cord\nuntil he had fallen quite a way, because he didn\u2019t want the ships to\nfall on him. When he\u2019d gone far enough, he pulled the cord, and floated\ngently down. That was the first.\u201d\n\u201cAnd the second?\u201d said Hal.\n\u201cThe second,\u201d went on Bob, \u201chappened in 1927, just about a year before\nLindy flew the Atlantic. He took a new type of plane up to test her. He\nput her through all the stunts that he could think of, and she stood\nthem all right. It seemed as though she was going to come through the\ntest O.K., when Lindy put her into a tail spin. They spiraled down for a\nwhile, and Lindy tried to pull her out of it. She wouldn\u2019t respond and\nwent completely out of control. Lindy tugged and yanked at the controls,\nbut he couldn\u2019t get that bus to go into a dive. He did his best to save\nthe ship, but it was no use. He didn\u2019t give up until they were about 300\nfeet from the ground, which is a mighty short distance to make a jump,\nif you ask me. But Lindy made it, and landed in somebody\u2019s back yard,\nthe wind knocked out of him, but otherwise all right. That was the\nsecond.\u201d\n\u201cAnd the third?\u201d asked Hal.\n\u201cWe\u2019re getting ahead of the story. In fact, we\u2019re ahead of the story\nalready. Before he made his second jump, Lindy had joined the Missouri\nNational Guard, and was promoted to a Captaincy in the Reserve and\nFlight Commander of the 110th Observation Squadron. That\u2019s how he got to\nbe a Captain, you know how he got to be a Colonel.\n\u201cThen Lindy joined the Robertson Aircraft Corporation, at St. Louis.\nWhile he was with them, he helped map out the first mail route from St.\nLouis to Chicago, and was the first pilot to carry mail along this\nroute. Slim had a habit of starting things off. He was the first to do a\nlot of things. No sitting back and waiting for others to start things.\nIt was first or nothing for him. Maybe it was his Viking ancestors, I\ndon\u2019t know.\n\u201cIt was while he was flying this route that Lindy had his third\ninitiation into the Caterpillars. He took off one September afternoon\nfrom Lambert Field, in St. Louis, on his way to Maywood. Just outside of\nPeoria a fog rolled in, so thick you could cut it with a knife, Lindy\ncould climb up over it for flying, but he couldn\u2019t land blind. He\ndropped a flare, but it only lit up a cloud bank. He saw lights, then,\nthrough the fog, and knew that he was around Maywood, but couldn\u2019t get\nthe exact location of the field. He\u2019d circled around for two hours, when\nhis engine sputtered and died. The tank was dry. Lindy quickly turned on\nthe reserve gravity tank. There was twenty minutes of flying in that\ntank, and Lindy had to think fast.\n\u201cHe tried flares again, but it was no use. When he had just a few\nminutes of gas left, he saw the glow of a town. He didn\u2019t want to take a\nchance on landing in a town and killing somebody, so he headed for open\ncountry. In a few minutes his engine died. Lindy stepped out into the\nblind fog and jumped. After falling a hundred feet, he pulled the\nrip-cord, and left the rest to chance. Every once in a while his ship\nappeared, twirling away in spirals, the outside of the circle about 300\nyards away from Lindy. He counted five spirals, and then lost sight of\nthe bus. He landed in a corn field, shaken, of course, but all right. He\nfound his way to the farm house, and told the farmer who he was. The\nfarmer, who had heard the crash of the plane as it smashed to earth\nwouldn\u2019t believe that this safe and sound man was the pilot of it.\nFinally Lindy convinced him, and they went in search of the plane, which\nthe farmer was sure had landed close to his house. They found it two\nmiles away, looking not much like a plane, but a heap of rubbish. The\nmail wasn\u2019t hurt. They got it to a train for Chicago, and the mail went\nthrough. It always does, you know.\u201d\n\u201cYup, it always does,\u201d said Captain Bill.\n\u201cThat reminds me of a story,\u201d said Pat.\n\u201cHold it,\u201d said Bob. \u201cI\u2019ve got another parachute for Lindy.\u201d\n\u201cFire away,\u201d said Pat. \u201cBut remember to remind me not to forget to tell\nyou my own story.\u201d\n\u201cAll right,\u201d Bob put in. \u201cNow the fourth time Lindy jumped was not long\nbefore his big flight. He was still flying for Robertson\u2019s, carrying\nmail to Chicago. Just south of Peoria he ran into rain that changed to\nsnow. Lindy flew around, waiting for the fog to lift, until he heard his\nmotor sputter and die. He was up about 13,000 feet when he stepped out\nof the cockpit and jumped into the air. He landed on a barbed wire\nfence. Tore his shirt, but the plane was pretty much of a wreck. He\ngrabbed the air mail; hurried to a train for Chicago, got another plane,\nand flew the mail through. A little late, but still, it got through. And\nhe didn\u2019t bat an eye. Not one of the jumps fazed him a bit.\n\u201cBut it wasn\u2019t as though Lindy jumped at the slightest sign of anything\ngoing wrong. He stayed with his plane until the very last minute, doing\neverything he could to save it. He hated worse than anything to have a\nplane smashed up. Look how long he stayed with that new plane he was\ntesting out\u2014until he was just 300 feet above the ground.\n\u201cWell, Lindy was one of the best mail pilots that the Robertson\ncorporation had, in fact, he was their chief pilot. They could depend on\nhim to go out in weather that no other pilot would think of bucking. He\ndidn\u2019t show off. Just knew that he could fly through anything, and he\ndid.\n\u201cAt this time there was a lot of excitement in the air. Orteig was\noffering his $25,000 prize for the first man to cross the Atlantic, and\nthere were a lot of aviators who would have liked the prize, and were\ntrying for it. Of course, the money wasn\u2019t the whole thing. There was\nthe honor attached to it. And besides, there was the fact that crossing\nthe Atlantic would make people sit up and take notice that flying wasn\u2019t\nas dangerous as they thought. If a man could fly all that distance in a\nplane, maybe planes weren\u2019t the death traps that some people had an idea\nthey were. Lindy must have been thinking of this when he first decided\nthat he\u2019d like to try for the Orteig prize. Because everything that he\u2019s\ndone since his flight has been to get people interested in aviation.\n\u201cBut it takes money to fly across the ocean. You\u2019ve got to get a special\nplane and all that. Lindy had to have backers. He couldn\u2019t get them at\nfirst. Everybody tried to discourage him. In the first place, he looked\nsuch a kid. He was twenty-five, and that\u2019s young, but he didn\u2019t even\nlook twenty-five. The men he asked to back him all but told him to run\nhome and wait until he had grown up.\n\u201cThen Major Robertson, Lindy\u2019s Big Boss, tried to get backers for him.\nHe knew that Lindy could fly and finally got some influential men to put\nup $15,000 for his flight. Maybe Lindy wasn\u2019t glad! He tucked his check\nin his pocket and went on a shopping trip for a plane. He tried the\nBellanca people in New York, but they didn\u2019t have what he wanted, so he\nskipped to San Diego to the Ryan Airways, Inc., and told them what he\nwanted. They put their engineers to work on his specifications, and\ndesigned him a Ryan monoplane, the neat stream-lined job that was\nchristened the Spirit of St. Louis. It\u2019s a graceful bird\u2014but you\u2019ve all\nseen so many pictures of it, you know what it looks like. It has a wing\nspan of 46 feet, and an overall length of over 27 feet. They put in a\nWright engine\u2014a Whirlwind, 200 horsepower. It\u2019s a radial engine. You two\nprobably know what a radial engine is, but Hal here doesn\u2019t.\u201d Bob paused\nand turned to Hal. \u201cDo you?\u201d\n\u201cUh-uh,\u201d grunted Hal. \u201cDo you?\u201d\n\u201cOf course I do. It\u2019s one in which the cylinders aren\u2019t in a straight\nline or in a V, but arranged around an axis, like the spokes of a wheel.\nLindy\u2019s plane had two spark plugs for each cylinder, so that in case one\nmissed, there was another one ready. She could carry 450 gallons of gas\nand twenty gallons of oil, and she was loaded to the gills when Lindy\ntook her off the ground at the Field.\n\u201cSuppose Lindy wasn\u2019t anxious about that plane. He hung around the\nfactory all the time that it was being built, and made suggestions to\nhelp along Hawley Bowlus, who built the thing. You know Hawley Bowlus.\nThe fellow who held the glider record until Lindy took it away from\nhim\u2014but that\u2019s later. Bowlus knows how to build planes, and Lindy swears\nby him.\n\u201cWell, they got the plane finished in 60 days, which isn\u2019t bad time. Out\nin New York, Byrd and Chamberlin and the others were getting ready to\nfly the Atlantic. It\u2019s wasn\u2019t really a race to see who would be first,\nbut of course, there\u2019s no doubt that each one was anxious to be the\nfirst man to cross the Atlantic. Because after all, nobody likes to be\nsecond. So Lindy had to get out to the east coast as fast as he could.\nHe could hardly wait for the plane to be finished. But at last it was,\nand all the equipment in place. Lindy climbed into the cockpit to test\nher out. The cockpit was inclosed. I don\u2019t know whether I told that\nbefore or not. Anyway, he could see out little windows on each side, but\nhe couldn\u2019t see ahead, or above him. So it was really flying blind all\nthe time, except for a sliding periscope that he could pull in or out at\nthe side, in case he had to see straight ahead. But Lindy doesn\u2019t mind\nblind flying. He\u2019s a wonderful navigator.\n\u201cWell, Lindy turned over the motor of his new plane, and it sounded\nsweet. He hadn\u2019t got it any more than off the ground when he realized\nthat this was the plane for him. It responded to every touch, although\nit was a heavy ship, and not much good for stunting. But Lindy didn\u2019t\nwant to stunt. He wanted to fly to Europe.\n\u201cIt was on May 10, I think, that he left San Diego. It was in the\nevening, not quite six o\u2019clock. The next morning, a little after eight,\nhe got into St. Louis. Took him just a bit over fourteen hours, the\nwhole trip. It was the longest cross-country hop that any one man had\nmade up to that time. His old pals at Lambert Field were pretty glad to\nsee him, and he spent the night at his old stamping grounds. But he\ndidn\u2019t stay long. Early in the morning he got on his way, and made New\nYork in the afternoon, in not quite seven and a half hours. Pretty\nflying.\n\u201cNobody much had heard of Lindy until he started from San Diego. Of\ncourse, he\u2019d been a dandy mail pilot, but they\u2019re usually unnamed\nheroes. Nobody hears about them, and they never get their names in the\npaper unless they crash. Not that they care. They\u2019ve got their jobs to\ndo, and they do them. But when Lindy flew that grand hop from San Diego\nto St. Louis to New York, people began to sit up and take notice. He\ndidn\u2019t say much after he got to the Curtiss Field.\n\u201cOut at Curtiss he spent his time seeing that everything was ready, and\nall his instruments O.K. He had a lot of confidence in himself\u2014he always\nhas\u2014but there was no use in taking chances. In back of the pilot\u2019s seat\nwas a collapsible rubber boat, that he could blow up with two tanks of\ngas that he carried with him. It had light oars, and was supposed to be\nable to float him for a week in case he decided suddenly to come down in\nthe middle of the Atlantic instead of flying all the way across. Then\nthere were his regular instruments. He had a tachometer, and an\naltimeter, an earth inductor compass, a drift indicator, and\u2014\u201d\nCaptain Bill interrupted. \u201cJust a minute, just a minute. You say those\nthings pretty glibly. Do you know what they mean? What\u2019s a tachometer?\nPat here doesn\u2019t know.\u201d\nBob looked embarrassed. \u201cWell, they\u2019re all pretty necessary instruments.\nI\u2019ve been meaning to look them up, that is, Gee, I really ought to know,\noughtn\u2019t I?\u201d\n\u201cYou ought,\u201d said the Captain severely. \u201cDo you mind if I interrupt your\nstory for just a minute and give you a few pointers? This is mostly for\nyou and Hal. You\u2019ll never be able to fly unless you understand what the\ninstruments on the dashboard are for. Of course a lot of the old flyers,\nlike Patrick, here, flew just by instinct, and stuck their heads out\nover the cockpit to see what was happening. A real pilot nowadays,\nthough, can be sealed in his cockpit and never see ahead of him from the\ntime he takes off until he lands, just so long as his instruments are\nworking. He can keep his course over any country, no matter how strange.\nYou\u2019ve got to know your instruments.\u201d\n\u201cWell, tell us,\u201d said Bob.\nThe Captain sat up. \u201cI guess the first thing that Lindy watched was the\ntachometer. This is the instrument that shows the number of revolutions\nper minute, or R. P. M.\u2019s that the engine is making. A flyer must know\nhow many R. P. M.\u2019s his engine must make to maintain a correct flying\nspeed, or he\u2019ll go into a stall, which is bad. I\u2019ll tell you more about\nstalls later. The altimeter registers the height at which the plane is\nflying. It isn\u2019t very accurate at low altitudes, but it\u2019s all right\nhigher up. You soon learn by the feel and the lay of the land how high\nup you are. The exact height doesn\u2019t matter in ordinary flying, just so\nthat you keep a good altitude. Then there\u2019s that most important\ninstrument, the earth inductor compass. This is much more accurate than\na magnetic compass, and it keeps the ship on its course. It operates in\nregard to the electro-magnetic reactions of the earth\u2019s field, and\ndirections are indicated in reference to magnetic north. To steer by\nthis compass, you have to set your desired heading on the controller,\nand then steer to keep the indicator on zero. If you veer to the left,\nthe indicator will swing to the left, and to keep on your course you\nmust bring your plane back to the right. When he changes his course, the\npilot consults his maps and graphs, and makes a change in the indicator\nof the compass.\n\u201cThen there is the air speed indicator, which shows the speed of the\nplane in the air. This is necessary so that the engine is not\nover-speeded. A pilot never runs his plane at full speed as a general\nthing, because he\u2019ll wear out his engine. He keeps it at about 80 per\ncent of its potential speed, which is a good safe margin.\n\u201cThe turn and bank indicator also reads from zero, and deviates from\nzero when the plane dips. The bubble rides up to the left when the plane\nbanks right, and rides up to the right when the plane banks left. When\nthe ship is again on an even keel, the indicator goes back to zero. The\npilot, when he isn\u2019t flying blind, can keep his plane level by noticing\nthe position of the radiator cap or top of the engine in respect to the\nhorizon. But in a heavy fog, or if he can\u2019t see over his cockpit, the\nhorizon doesn\u2019t exist, and a bank and turn indicator is his instrument.\n\u201cThe instruments that are no less important than these are the oil\ngauge, the gasoline pressure gauge, and the thermometer, which shows\nwhether the motor is overheating. If the oil gauge shows that the oil is\nat a good cool temperature, and the gasoline pressure gauge shows that\nthe gas pressure is up, the pilot knows that his motor is running\nnicely. The gas pressure gauge won\u2019t tell you how much gas you have\nleft, though. It\u2019s always best to figure how much gas you\u2019re going to\nneed on a trip, and then take some over for emergencies. Most planes\nalso have an emergency tank, so that if one tank gives out, the other\ncan be switched on, and will give the flyer time to maneuver about until\nhe finds a landing place.\u201d Captain Bill paused. \u201cWell, those are your\ninstruments. I\u2019ll probably have to explain them all over to you again\nwhen the plane comes, and I start to teach you to fly.\u201d\n\u201cOh, no, not to me, you won\u2019t,\u201d Bob said.\nHal sat quietly looking out over the valley below, saying nothing. He\nhad listened intently to the Captain\u2019s instructions, but there was an\nodd expression on his face.\nFinally Pat snorted. Bob and the others jumped.\n\u201cHi, what\u2019s the idea. Is there a story being told, or isn\u2019t there a\nstory being told? Get on with you.\u201d\n\u201cIt\u2019s no fault of mine, Patrick,\u201d said Bob, looking meaningly at the\nCaptain, who appeared as innocent as a lamb. \u201cI\u2019m always being rudely\ninterrupted. But I\u2019ll go on. Where was I?\u201d\n\u201cThe Lindbergh lad was at Curtiss Field, waiting this long time to be\noff,\u201d said Pat.\n\u201cOh, yes. Well, when he got word that the weather was O.K., he got his\nsandwiches, his canteens of water, and started off on the greatest\nflight in aviation history. And I\u2019ve told you about that.\u201d\n\u201cWe seem to be right back where we started from,\u201d the Captain said. \u201cIs\nthat the end of your story?\u201d\nBob laughed. \u201cBy no means. You\u2019ve got a lot to hear yet. What do you\nsuppose I\u2019ve been collecting dope for all these weeks? I\u2019ve got a lot to\ntell you. Lindy wasn\u2019t satisfied with one great trip. He\u2019s been flying\nsince, and has made some pretty important jaunts. Things happened to him\nafter he got back to America loaded down with about every kind of medal\nthat one man can get. And I\u2019m going to tell you all of them.\u201d\n\u201cI suppose we\u2019ll have to listen. It\u2019s part of the game,\u201d Pat said. \u201cBut\nnot now, my lad.\u201d He rose stiffly from the grass. \u201cYou\u2019re mother will be\nlooking for us, and wondering what\u2019s become of us. We\u2019d better get for\nhome.\u201d\n\u201cHow about continuing in the next issue?\u201d laughed the Captain.\n\u201cO.K.\u201d said Bob. \u201cYou get the rest of it tonight, whether you like it or\nnot.\u201d\nHal looked up fervently at Bob. \u201cOh, we like it, Bob. I think it\u2019s a\ngreat story. A great story.\u201d The boy\u2019s eyes shown in his pale face.\n\u201cGolly, Bob, it must be wonderful to be able to do things like that.\u201d\nBob looked uncomfortable as they walked over to the car. \u201cWell, kid, I\ndon\u2019t see why anybody can\u2019t do great things if he\u2019s got grit enough.\nThat\u2019s what it takes\u2014Grit.\u201d\nCHAPTER VI\u2014More About The Eagle\nIt was after dinner at the Martin\u2019s. Captain Bill, Pat, and the two boys\nhad gone out to the garden. The Captain and Bob were stretched out in\ntwo deck chairs, the Captain\u2019s long legs sticking out a long way past\nthe end of the low foot-rest. Pat lay in the glider, swinging himself\nlazily, squeaking in a melancholy rhythm at each forward and back push,\nHal, who had got permission from his mother to eat dinner with the\nMartin\u2019s, lay on a rug thrown down on the grass. The dusk was turning to\ndark, and the Captain\u2019s pipe was beginning to show up as a dull glow in\nthe fading light.\nFor a while nobody spoke. Then Pat said, \u201cWell, Robert, tell us the end\nof your story.\u201d\n\u201cI\u2019ve been thinking of where to start. We left Lindy over in Europe,\ncoming back to the United States. He didn\u2019t come right back, though. He\nhad to tour about some of the foreign countries, as an ambassador of\ngood will, and get decorated with about every kind of medal that was\never made. It must have been pretty boring for him to go to banquet\nafter banquet, and listen to all those speeches praising him. He must\nhave blushed like anything at some of those flowery compliments. But he\nstayed calm, and didn\u2019t lose his head and get all swelled up over the\nreceptions and cheers and everything. He knew that everybody meant every\nword he said, and that they were mighty pleased with him. They gave him\nall sorts of presents. He could have started a store with them. But I\nguess that most of them are in the Lindbergh museum now.\n\u201cWell, the honors they heaped on Lindy in France and England and Belgium\nwere nothing to what was waiting for him when he got back to the United\nStates. New York turned out, it seemed, to a man. They had a parade\nmiles long, with Lindy the chief attraction, sitting on top of an open\ncar, smiling at the mobs of screaming, shouting people all along the\nway. It rained ticker tape for hours, and people in offices tore up\ntelephone books and added the bits of paper to the rainstorm. Nobody\ncould do enough for the Colonel.\u201d Bob looked around at the group. \u201cHe\nwasn\u2019t the Captain any more,\u201d he explained. \u201cHe was now Colonel\nLindbergh. Well, anyway, there were banquets and parties, until Lindy\nhad to leave. St. Louis started where New York left off. After all it\nwas St. Louis where Lindy had found his backers, and naturally they were\npretty proud of him there. Slim took it all smiling, just as modest as\nhe\u2019d been from the beginning. There was no fussing him. And the people\nloved it. Slim was the most talked-about hero the United States has ever\nadopted. Why, you remember that almost everything from candy-bars to\nswimming suits were named after him\u2014and a whole lot of new babies, too.\nAll the kids in America were crazy about him, and they all wore\naviator\u2019s helmets and made plans to become aviators as soon as they were\nold enough. It seems that Lindy\u2019s plan was pretty successful. He wanted\nto get people to talking and thinking about airplanes, and believe me,\nthey didn\u2019t talk or think about much else from the time he set out from\nRoosevelt field.\u201d\n\u201cYou\u2019d think that he\u2019d be tired and ready for a rest after his flight,\nand his receptions, but even though he may have been tired, he thought\nhe\u2019d strike while the iron was hot, and follow up his good work, this\nbusiness of getting people aviation conscious. And I guess, too, he felt\nthat he owed something to the people of the United States for being so\nkind to him, so Lindy set out on a trip around the country. He stopped\nat almost every important city, and covered every state in the union. He\ntraveled almost 20,000 miles. And that\u2019s some traveling. Just think if\nhe\u2019d had to travel that distance in a train! He\u2019d be going yet. Well,\nevery place that he stopped gave him three rousing cheers, and then\nsome. You\u2019d think that by that time he\u2019d be pretty tired. If it had been\nme, I\u2019d have turned around and bitten some of the welcoming committee.\nBut not Lindy. He stuck it out, and smiled at them all.\n\u201cAnd after the country-wide tour was over, he took his Mexican and\nCentral American and South American trip. It was this trip that clinched\nhis name of \u2018Good Will Ambassador,\u2019 although he\u2019d been one to all of the\nEuropean countries that he went to. In December, seven months after his\nfamous flight, he pointed the nose of the old Spirit of St. Louis south,\nand lit out for Mexico City.\n\u201cThey were pretty anxious to see him down there, and the Mexican\nNational aviation field was crowded long before Lindy was due to get\nthere. Everybody knew that this was one flyer who always got places when\nhe said he\u2019d get there. He was never off schedule. So imagine how\neverybody felt when the time set by him to reach Mexico City passed, and\nno Lindy showed up. Well, they were all set to call out the reserves,\nwhen Slim Lindbergh winged into sight, and made a sweet landing on the\nMexican field.\n\u201cThere was some cheering\u2014more, maybe than if he\u2019d got there on schedule,\nalthough you don\u2019t see how that could be possible. They gave Lindy a\nchance to explain that he\u2019d been lost in the fog, and then they went on\nwith their entertaining and celebrating.\n\u201cMexico City was pretty important to Lindbergh, although nobody knew it\nthen. Dwight Morrow was Ambassador to Mexico then, and he had a daughter\nnamed Anne. Well, I don\u2019t like to get sentimental\u2014I guess I can\u2019t tell\nromantic stories\u2014well, anyway, that part comes later.\u201d\nCaptain Bill saw fit to interrupt the story here. He saw that Bob was\nembarrassed, and saw an opportunity to rub it in. \u201cWhat part?\u201d he asked,\ninnocently, knocking the heel of ash from his pipe as he did so.\n\u201cOh, you know, Lindy\u2019s marrying Anne Morrow, and that.\u201d\n\u201cWell, we certainly demand the whole thing. You can\u2019t leave anything\nout,\u201d insisted Bill.\n\u201cAw, all right, but it doesn\u2019t come in now.\u201d\n\u201cWe can wait,\u201d said Bill, and settled back satisfied.\n\u201cFrom Mexico City,\u201d went on Bob, grateful that his ordeal bad been put\noff, \u201cLindy flew off down to Central America. First he zig-zagged a bit\nto get in all of the little countries, and went from Guatemala City to\nBelize in British Honduras, and then back again to San Salvador, and\nfrom then on straight down the narrow isthmus to Teguci\u2014Teguci\u2014well,\nthat place in Honduras.\u201d\n\u201cTegucigalpa,\u201d said Pat.\n\u201cThat\u2019s it,\u201d said Bob. \u201cAnd from Teguci\u2014and from there, he went on to\nManagua, and then to Costa Rica\u2014San Jose. Now he was just about three\nhundred and twenty-five miles from the Panama Canal, as the crow\nflies\u2014or rather, as Lindy flies, which is much better than any crow I\u2019ve\never seen. He didn\u2019t have any trouble making the flight, and say that\nthey weren\u2019t glad to see him down there, especially in the Canal Zone,\nwhere the Americans lived. They entertained him royally, and he went\ninto the jungles of Panama for a hunting trip, which must have been\ngreat. They have all sorts of wild hogs, deer and pheasants, and it must\nhave made grand hunting.\n\u201cBut after all, Lindy couldn\u2019t stay anyplace very long. South America\nwas waiting for him. So he packed himself off, and flew to Cartagena, in\nColombia, adding another continent to his list. From Cartagena he flew\nto Bogota, and then straight across the top of South America to the east\ncoast. He stayed at Maracay, Venezuela. I never heard of it before, did\nany of you?\u201d Bob paused dramatically for a reply.\nThere was only a dead silence for a second, and then, since none else\nspoke, Hal felt called upon to confess his ignorance, \u201cI never did,\u201d he\nsaid. \u201cAnd gee, Bob, how do you remember all these places that Lindbergh\nstopped at? I never would in a hundred years.\u201d\n\u201cOh, it\u2019s easy,\u201d said Bob airily. He did not tell them of the long hours\nthat he had spent memorizing the towns and cities that Lindbergh had\nstopped at in his good will tour, nor the hundreds of times that he had\nwished that Lindy had flown to some easy place like Canada, where the\nnames were all pronounceable. But then, Lindy might have flown to Wales,\nand Bob, having seen Welsh names, thanked his lucky stars for such\nplaces as Tegucigalpa and Bogota. And now, having at least impressed\nHal, he went on with renewed enthusiasm.\n\u201cMaracay,\u201d he said, \u201cwas the jumping off place for the thousand-mile\njump to the Virgin Islands. You see, Lindy was on his way back to the\nUnited States. He hopped from island to island in the Caribbean Sea,\nstopping at San Juan, Porto Rico; Santo Domingo; Port-au-Prince in\nHayti; and then to Havana. From Havana he made the biggest hop of all,\nand landed smack in St. Louis without sitting down once along the way.\nHe made some twelve hundred miles in about fifteen and a half hours.\n\u201cSomebody figured up how long he had flown, and how long he took for the\nwhole \u2018good will\u2019 trip, and found out that he\u2019d made sixteen flights to\nfifteen countries, and had gone 8,235 miles in one hundred and a half\nhours. Of course, that was actual flying time. The trip had taken him\njust two months, because he got back to St. Louis on February 13th, and\nhe\u2019d left Boiling Field at Washington on December 13th. But in those two\nmonths Lindy accomplished a great deal. He\u2019d made friends with all the\nlittle countries down to our south, and with Mexico, too. They\nunderstood us better, and we got to understand them better. Gee,\nwouldn\u2019t it be great if airplanes would make people friendlier? I mean,\nwe\u2019re so close to each other now, it seems as though we ought to know\nmore about each other, and like each other better. I may not be saying\nthat so well, but you fellows know what I mean, don\u2019t you?\u201d\n\u201cThat\u2019s a very good philosophy,\u201d said Captain Bill, and Bob beamed as\nbroadly as the moon that had risen over the trees and was shining over\nthe little group in the garden. \u201cLet\u2019s hope that you\u2019re right.\u201d\n\u201cWell, Lindy palled around with his old buddies at St. Louis, and\ncarried mail over his old route to Chicago. He broke up his flights with\ngoing to New York to get a medal from the Woodrow Wilson Foundation for\ninternational peace and understanding, and then he went to Washington to\nget the Congressional Medal of Honor. And he had to get a new plane,\ntoo, from the Mahoney people who made the Spirit of St. Louis. I guess\nLindy hated to part from the old bus. It was still in great condition,\neven though he\u2019d flown 40,000 miles in it. But they wanted to put it in\nthe Smithsonian Institution, and he had to get another.\n\u201cIt was just about this time, in April of 1928, that Lindbergh had to\nput his flying to a stiff test. He was in St. Louis when he learned that\nFloyd Bennett was very sick with pneumonia up in Quebec. Bennett was a\ngreat fellow, one of the most popular aviators of his time. He\u2019d flown\nwith Byrd to the North Pole, you remember. And in April, although he was\nsick, and knew he shouldn\u2019t have gone, he flew up to help Captain Koebl\nand Major Fitzmaurice and Baron von Huenefeld, who\u2019d flown across the\nAtlantic, and were forced down off the coast of Labrador. Well, he\nlanded with pneumonia in a Quebec hospital, and they needed some serum\nin a hurry to save his life. Lindy offered to fly with it, and took off\nright away for New York. It was 500 miles from New York to Quebec,\nmostly through fog and snow, and blizzards, but Lindy made it in three\nhours and thirty-five minutes. The serum didn\u2019t save Floyd Bennett,\nthough. That plucky scout died the day after Lindbergh got there. He\u2019d\nput up a great fight, but it was no use. The whole country felt gloomy\nover his death, and Lindy especially so, although he\u2019d done his best to\nsave his pal\u2019s life.\n\u201cIn June of that year, that is, in 1928, Lindy,\u2014maybe I should call him\nCharles Augustus Lindbergh, was appointed the chairman of the technical\ncommittee of the Transcontinental Air Transport, the company sending\nplanes cross-country. This gave him the chance to be right in on the\nground\u2014or rather right in the air\u2014of aviation progress. It wasn\u2019t just\nan office job, either, because Lindy flew almost as much after his\nappointment as before.\n\u201cIn 1929 he kept right on flying. That\u2019s not really news. If Lindy\nstopped flying, that would be news. But in February of \u201929 he flew the\nfirst mail from Miami to Colon, in the Panama Canal Zone. This was the\ninauguration of the Pan-American Airways.\n\u201cIn February the Morrows announced the engagement of Anne Morrow to\nCharles Augustus Lindbergh. From then on the reporters and photographers\nhung around in order to be in at the wedding. But Lindy and Anne fooled\nthem. They were married in April, and nobody knew anything about it.\nThey just got quietly married, and left on their honeymoon in a yacht.\n\u201cFrom then on, whenever Lindy went on a trip, Anne Lindbergh went with\nhim. She\u2019s a great flyer, and helps Lindy fly on long stretches. She\npilots while he rests.\n\u201cThe first long trip they took was in \u201929. That was the one through\nCentral America to Belize, in British Honduras. That covered 7,000\nmiles. But they didn\u2019t stop long at Belize. They\u2019d gone there for a\nreason. They headed their plane over the Yucatan peninsula, looking for\nMayan ruins. You know, the Mayan Indians had a wonderful civilization\nall built up long before the white men came to Yucatan. They had a huge\nempire, and big cities with buildings as large as ours. Scientists are\nalways digging around down there to uncover the ruins, so that they can\nfind out about the Indians, and how they lived, and all that. But it\u2019s\nhard to find the places where the Maya Indians had their cities. The\njungle has grown up so thickly all about them that it takes days and\nmonths to get to them. And those that aren\u2019t on rivers are almost\nimpossible to get to.\n\u201cSo Lindy proved once more that the airplane was a help to science, and\nflew over the old Mayan hang-outs, looking for ruins. He skimmed his\nplane over the tops of the jungles, so low that it seemed he might\nalmost reach out his hand and grab a branch of one of those giant trees\nthat grow down there, and he flew slowly, too, so that the scientists\nthat were with him could take pictures.\n\u201cThey found what they were after, three cities that hadn\u2019t ever been\ndiscovered before. And it took only four days, where it might have taken\na party on foot months to do the same thing. Anne Lindbergh helped pilot\nthe plane, and take pictures, too.\n\u201cThere weren\u2019t any more exciting flights that year, but early the next\nyear, that is, in 1930, Lindy ordered a new plane. It was a\nLockheed-Sirius, a monoplane with a Wasp motor. It had a\nflattish-looking nose, but it was graceful just the same. It had\nsomething new that Lindy had designed himself. That was two covers that\ncould be slid over the cockpits, so that the pilots would be protected\nin bad weather.\n\u201cLindy and Anne had a use for the plane and the cockpit covers very\nsoon. They flew across the country one day and broke the cross-country\nspeed record that existed then.\n\u201cHardly anybody knew what they were up to, and there were just a few\npeople at the Glendale airport, where they started from. It was a\nterrible day, cold and rainy, and the sun hadn\u2019t come up yet to dry\nthings out. But the Lindberghs didn\u2019t care. They had on suits heated by\nelectricity, because they knew that it was going to be even colder where\nthey were going.\n\u201cA basket of sandwiches, 400 gallons of gas, and they were ready. It was\nhard taking off, because the load was heavy, but Lindy got his\nflat-nosed Sirius into the air beautifully, and they disappeared from\nsight. Disappeared is the word, because for hours nobody saw them. They\nwere looking for them, too, because you can bet on it that as soon as\nthe Lindberghs took off, everybody knew about it. All over the west the\ncowboys and Indians were gaping up to see the blunt-nosed plane, but\nnobody saw it.\n\u201cThen suddenly Anne and Lindy dropped out of the sky at Wichita, Kansas,\nsaid hello, they\u2019d like some gas, they\u2019d be in New York about eleven,\nand sailed off.\n\u201cThey were in New York around eleven, too, and New York was waiting for\nthem, with auto horns, and whistles, and all the other noise that it can\nmake for people who have gone out and done things. The Lindberghs\ncertainly had done just that. They\u2019d come across the country with one\nstop in 14 hours and twenty-three minutes and some seconds, and had\nclipped two and a half hours off the record then standing.\u201d\n\u201cBut what happened out\u2019 west?\u201d asked Hal. \u201cWhy hadn\u2019t anybody seen\nthem?\u201d\n\u201cBecause you can\u2019t see 10,000 feet into the air, and that\u2019s where the\nLindberghs were flying. Way above the clouds, from 10,000 to 15,000 feet\nhigh, flying blind, with the cockpits closed to keep out the cold. It\u2019s\nmighty cold 15,000 feet up in the air. Flying blind that way, they had\nto depend upon their sextant to keep their course, and Anne Lindbergh\ndid her part by using this. She did all the navigating from the back\ncockpit, and took the controls part of the time when Lindy rested.\n\u201cLindy and Anne hadn\u2019t intended to set a record. At least, that wasn\u2019t\nwhat they set out to do. They wanted to test out flying at high\naltitudes, because Lindy believes that planes in the future will fly\nhigh to avoid storms and wind, and that blind flying should be\nencouraged. That\u2019s why they flew so high up, out of sight of all\nlandmarks.\n\u201cThere was no flying for Anne and Lindy after that for a while, because\nin June that year little Lindy was born. It seems awfully sad now to\ntalk about all the excitement not only in this country, but all over the\nworld when that baby was born. Lindy was the world\u2019s hero, and his baby\nwas adopted by everybody just as Lindy had been. Nobody could have\ndreamed what a terrible end the Lindbergh baby would come to.\u201d\nBob paused. The events of the Lindbergh baby\u2019s kidnapping, and the\nfinding of its body a few months later, after the whole world had\nsearched for it, were still fresh. In fact, they were too fresh for Bob\nto talk about then, and with the silent consent of all the men there, he\npassed over the horrible details of the case, and in a few moments went\non with his story.\n\u201cThe Lindberghs have another baby boy now and everybody in the country\nwill protect this child. People all over the world were heartbroken at\nthe death of their first baby.\n\u201cIt was when the baby was a year old, and didn\u2019t require so much\nattention, that Anne and Lindy started out on their longest trip, the\nflight across the Pacific to China and Japan. That was in July of 1931.\nThere was some delay in choosing the route, because they had to consider\nall sorts of things, like chances for refueling, and over-water flying\ndistances, but finally they decided that they\u2019d fly across Canada to\nPoint Barrow, in Alaska, and from there to Nome; then across the Ocean\nto Karaginsk, from there to Nemuro, and on to Tokyo.\u201d\nCaptain Bill broke in. \u201cGood for you for remembering that. Did you\nmemorize the route?\u201d\n\u201cI did,\u201d said Bob proudly. \u201cI even drew a map of it. They flew roughly\nnorthwest, and then south again, making the two sides of a triangle,\nwith the point up at the top of Alaska.\n\u201cWell, the Lindberghs made their usual careful preparations. They needed\nmore than a ham sandwich for this trip. The plane they chose was a\nlow-winged Lockheed Sirius with a Wright Whirlwind motor. It was a\nblunt-nosed ship, painted reddish orange and black. And since they were\ntraveling over water, it had to be equipped with floats. These were a\nnew kind of Edo float, which were grooved on at the bottom to make for\nless resistance of the water.\n\u201cIn the tail of the plane they had a pretty complete emergency kit,\nwhich would pop out automatically if the plane went under. It had a\nfolding life boat in it, that they could fill from a bottle of\ncompressed air. It was pretty smooth, with a mast and sail and\neverything, and though they didn\u2019t; have to use it, it was a mighty nice\nthing to have along in case they sat down in the middle of the ocean.\nThen, of course, they had food and water, and an emergency radio set,\nbesides the one that Anne Lindbergh was going to use. This emergency one\nwas ready for anything. You couldn\u2019t hurt it by getting it wet, or by\ndropping it. In fact, they tested it by dropping it from a hangar, and\nthen soaking it in water for 24 hours. I wouldn\u2019t want anybody to do\nthat to my radio set, but I guess nothing much happened, because the\ntough radio survived its tests, and went along with the Lindberghs to\nChina. The rest of their equipment included fifty pounds of food, five\ncanteens of water, blankets, and all that sort of thing.\n\u201cOn July 27th, Anne and Lindy started out. Washington was their first\nstop, to make the first leg official. From there they went to New York,\nbound for Maine, to say goodbye to the baby. But there was trouble right\nat the start. About two hours after they had left New York, the\nLindberghs had to turn back again. Somebody had tampered with their\nradio, and put it out of working order. But this was fixed up all right,\nand they started out again. They got to North Haven, Maine, in about\nthree and a half hours.\n\u201cAfter spending some time at North Haven with Anne\u2019s parents and the\nbaby, they left for Ottawa, and from Ottawa for Moose Factory. Just out\nof Ontario, though, they disappeared. The newspapers ran big headlines,\n\u2018Lindberghs Missing.\u2019 But they weren\u2019t really missing. That is, the\nLindberghs knew all along where they were, but their radio was out of\norder, and they couldn\u2019t tell anybody else. Pilots were sent out to\nsearch for them, and Pilot Clegg found them in Moose Factory, safe and\nsound.\n\u201cMoose Factory sounds awfully funny, doesn\u2019t it? I\u2019d never heard of it,\nbefore the Lindberghs landed there, but it\u2019s quite a place. All one\nhundred of its people came out to cheer the flyers.\n\u201cOn Sunday morning they left Moose Factory, for their 750 mile jump to\nChurchill Harbor, in Manitoba. The weather wasn\u2019t very good for\nflying\u2014gray and stormy, and the country was gray and flat. All in all,\nit wasn\u2019t a very pleasant leg of their journey, and there was almost\nnine hours of it. I\u2019ll bet they were glad when they flew into Churchill\nHarbor, and saw the whole town waiting for them. There were only 2,000\npeople in the town, but then, that probably looked like a pretty big\ncrowd after all that flying over country without seeing anybody or\nanything. And those 2,000 made up for it by being awfully noisy.\n\u201cBaker Lake is 375 miles from Churchill, and that was the next stop.\nJust three and a quarter hours after they\u2019d left Churchill Harbor, they\ngot into Baker Lake. Everybody was waiting for them, and everybody in\nthis case was made up of Eskimos. There are only about six white people\nin the whole place, but they were out, too, and took charge of the\nLindberghs when they landed that night. So far so good.\n\u201cThe Lockheed up to now was working perfectly\u2014the trip was going off as\nscheduled\u2014just as all of Slim\u2019s trips go off as scheduled. From Baker\nLake the going was to be harder. The next stop was Aklavik, on the\nMacKenzie River. Aklavik is pretty far north, just about 130 miles\nwithin the Arctic Circle, and the route called for a jump of over 1,000\nmiles across this cold country. But Slim and Anne made it. They did that\n1,000 miles in eleven and a half hours, which was some going. They had\nthe Aurora Borealis with them, because the farther north they went, the\nbrighter the lights grew, and flying at night was as easy as flying by\nday.\n\u201cAklavik may be cold, but it was warm to the Lindberghs. Slim and Anne\nsaw a lot of things they\u2019d never seen before, and they had what you\u2019d\ncall their first real taste of the arctic. There were all the people you\nread about up there\u2014Mounties, and Eskimos and fur trappers, who\u2019d\ntrekked in from miles around to see the Lindberghs land. Eskimo kids\ntrailed them around and grinned when they were spoken to.\n\u201cThey had a lot of time to look around, too, because they had to stay at\nAklavik for three days. The weather grounded them, but on August 7th,\nthe sky cleared, and they were off again, now for Point Barrow. Nome was\nnext. But before they got to Nome there was trouble.\n\u201cThey\u2019d started out from the Point in the morning, and flew all day. All\nthey saw was packed ice for miles around. A thick fog was raising.\nFinally at 11 o\u2019clock that night the fog grew so thick that the Colonel\nand his wife thought it would be best just to sit down and wait for the\nfog to clear. So that\u2019s what they did. They sat down in Shismaref Bay,\non Kotzebue Sound.\u201d\nAt this point Bob paused significantly, and waited. He had pronounced\nboth words without hesitation of any kind, and he was waiting for the\npraise that he felt was due him. There was a strange silence. So Bob\nsaid again: \u201cThey sat down on Shismaref Bay, on Kotzebue Sound.\u201d\nThis time Captain Bill realized what was required of him. \u201cGood work,\u201d\nhe said \u201cYou got them both without a slip.\u201d\nNow Bob could go on. \u201cThey sat down,\u201d he began.\n\u201cThat they did,\u201d interrupted Pat. \u201cThey sat down on Shismaref Bay on\nKotzebue Sound. What heathen names. But we\u2019ve heard them, and get on\nwith you, lad.\u201d\n\u201cI am,\u201d said Bob, and got on. \u201cThey had to wait for ten hours for the\nfog to lift, and it must have been mighty uncomfortable in the cockpits\nof their planes. When they finally did get started, they found that they\ncouldn\u2019t get to Nome after all. The fog drifted up again, and they had\nto come down\u2014\u201d\nPat broke the silence with a mighty exclamation. \u201cNot on Shismaref Bay!\u201d\nBob was cold. \u201cOf course not. This time they came down on Safety Bay,\nand please don\u2019t interrupt.\u201d\nBut there was another interruption, this time from Hal. \u201cWhere\u2019s Safety\nBay?\u201d he asked.\nBob stretched out comfortably. He was satisfied with himself and his\nstory. \u201cI don\u2019t know whether you\u2019re just trying to test me, or not,\u201d he\nsaid, \u201cbut I\u2019m prepared for you. I\u2019ve been over every inch of the\nLindbergh trip with an atlas, and I know where everything is located,\nand how to pronounce it.\u201d\nHal, his pale face lighted up by the moonlight, was obviously impressed,\nand his large eyes beamed in the light. He was storing up notes for his\nown story that was to come later.\n\u201cSafety Bay,\u201d said Bob, \u201cis twenty-one miles from Nome, and mid-way\nbetween Nome and Solomon Beach. They call it Safety Bay because\nfishermen caught in storms out at sea used to come in to the bay for\nsafety. It was a \u2018safety bay\u2019 for the Lindberghs, too, all right. They\nwaited for the fog to lift again, and they finally got to Nome. Nome had\nbeen waiting so long for them that it gave them a right royal welcome.\n\u201cNome was an important stop, because the Lindberghs planned to use this\nas their jumping off place for the hop across the Pacific Ocean to\nKaragin Island, off the Kamchatkan Peninsula. The Pacific has been\ncrossed before, and was crossed later, too, by Herndon and Pangborn. But\nit\u2019s a tricky place to cross, especially in the northerly part, where\nthe Lindberghs were to cross. It\u2019s a place of fog and ice, and quickly\nchanging wind currents, so that a fog can creep up on you and blot out\nthe world in a split second.\n\u201cWell, this was the ocean that the Lindberghs were going to cross. And\nthey crossed it. On Friday, August 14th, they started out. They were the\nfirst to cross by that route, blazing a new aviation trail. For half an\nhour there was silence. Then the St. Paul Naval station in the\nPribiloffs made the first radio contact. Anne Lindbergh signaled that\neverything was all right, the weather was good, and the flying fine.\nEvery half hour the station sent out signals, and gave directions,\nbecause up north there, so near the magnetic pole, a regular compass is\nthrown way off.\n\u201cSt. Lawrence Island was the first land in their path; then from St.\nLawrence to Cape Naverin the route was over water again, about 250\nmiles. Finally the radio operator got the message that they\u2019d sighted\nCape Naverin, and that everything was O. K. They got to Karagin Island\nearly in the morning. And that means they flew over 1,000 miles in less\nthan 11 hours. Which is some flying over that treacherous route.\n\u201cThe Lindys stayed at the Island for just a little while to rest up, and\nthen took off for the southern end of the Kamchatkan Peninsula, for\nPetro\u2014Petro\u2014\u201d Bob paused, embarrassed. \u201cSay, what\u2019s the name of that\nplace at the southern end?\u201d he asked.\nBill felt called upon to answer. \u201cPetropavlovsk,\u201d he said.\nBob tried it. \u201cPetro\u2014Petro-what?\u201d\n\u201cPetropavlovsk,\u201d repeated Bill.\nThey all tried it then, with varying degrees of success. Finally Bob got\nit. \u201cPetropavlovsk,\u201d he said proudly, and was able to go on with his\nstory. \u201cIt was an easy flight, and they made it in about four hours. But\nNemuro was next.\n\u201cNemuro\u2019s on the tip of Hokkaido Island, and to reach it the Lindberghs\nhad to fly across the Kurile Islands, the worst fog trap in the world.\nThere\u2019s a warm Japanese ocean current that flows up here and hits the\ncold arctic blasts, so that there are sudden fogs that you can\u2019t\npossibly see through. And besides, there are volcanic peaks that stick\ntheir peaks up but of the water. Some are dead and some are alive, but\nthey\u2019re all pretty bad news for an airplane if it happens to come in\ncontact with one of them.\n\u201cThe start was pretty good. The sky was clear, and the visibility good.\nBut they should have known better than to trust such luck. They\u2019d been\nout about 500 miles when a thick blanket of fog came up from nowhere and\nwrapped them around. A minute before they\u2019d been able to see Muroton\nBay, but when they turned back, it had disappeared. There were two\nthings for them to do, and neither one pleasant. They could either fly\non in the fog, and risk hitting a peak or losing their course, or land\nin the water. This was hardly better than going on, because the currents\nare very dangerous around there, and their plane might easily be\ncapsized. But they decided that it was better to land. They landed on\nthe sheltered side of a place called Ketoi Island, and put their radio\nto work sending out an S.O.S.\n\u201cIt didn\u2019t take long for somebody to get to them. The Japanese\ngovernment ordered two ships to Ketoi to help them. One was the\nShimushiru, and it stood by all night, while the Lindberghs spent the\nnight doubled up in the cockpit of their plane. They stood by because of\nthe danger. You see, the island is pretty wild, and is inhabited by\nHairy Ainus, who live in caves. They\u2019re white people, and they\u2019re\nsupposed to have lived all over Japan once, but they\u2019re not very\npleasant to have around, especially if you\u2019re unprotected. But with the\nJapanese ship standing by, the Lindberghs were safe.\n\u201cIn the morning the ship towed the Lockheed Sirius to Muroton Bay, and\nwhile it was sort of quiet, Lindy fixed up a wet spark plug and they\nwere ship-shape again, and raring to go. But the fog wouldn\u2019t lift.\nFinally it seemed to lift, and they started off.\n\u201cWhen they got to the island of Iturup a thick fog came up from nowhere\nand cut off their visibility again. Then a radio message told them that\nthe safest place to land was at Shana, so at Shana they landed. And at\nShana they stayed, too, grounded by the fog. But finally the fog lifted,\nand they were able to get to Nemuro.\n\u201cTokyo next. And Tokyo was glad to see them! There were over 30,000\npeople at the airport when they landed. The Lindys were just as popular\nas ever, and just as much the good will ambassadors as ever. They were\ntaken all over Tokyo, ate with chopsticks, lived through a little\nearthquake, and did as the Japanese did generally.\n\u201cLindbergh told the Japanese people what he had set out to do, and that\nhe hoped that there\u2019d be a regular airplane route between Japan and the\nUnited States. He said that he thought the route would be from the\nnorth, too, but a little south of the one that he and Anne had taken.\n\u201cJapan liked the Lindberghs, but they had to leave, bound for China.\nThat was in September. Japan and China hadn\u2019t decided yet to go to war,\nbut things were pretty bad in China, anyway. The Yangtze Kiang and the\nHwai river had overflowed and flooded hundreds of villages and cities.\nTogether they\u2019d covered about 1,000 square miles of land, so you can\nimagine in what sort of condition China was then. Everything that goes\nwith flood had come to China too, including starvation and disease. The\nRelief Committee was doing all that it could to help the inland people,\nbut it couldn\u2019t do much, because there was no way of communicating with\nthem, and of finding out who needed aid, and what towns had been\nflooded.\n\u201cAs soon as Lindy landed in Nanking, he volunteered to help the Chinese\ngovernment by making surveys of the flooded land. The government\naccepted his offer, and Lindy flew over the country, making reports of\ndistricts that were under water. He found a lot of places that no one\nknew about, and did wonderful work. At one place he landed on the water\nin a village that was completely covered. He had a doctor and medical\nsupplies with him, but the poor Chinese thought that he had brought\nfood. They paddled over to the plane, grabbed the supplies and tore them\nto shreds, looking for something to eat. Lindy and the doctors took off\nas soon as they possibly could. As a result of this, Lindy advised that\nall supplies should be brought by armed guards, and that food was the\nmost urgent need at the moment. Because of the good work that he did,\nthe President of China gave Lindy another medal to add to his\ncollection, the Chinese Aviation Medal.\n\u201cIn October the Lindbergh\u2019s trip was suddenly cut short, in the first\nplace, by an accident that might have proved pretty serious. The\nColonel, Anne, and a doctor were setting out for a survey of the\nTungting Lake district, and were to take off in the Yangtze. But just as\nthey were about to leave the water the current caught one of the wings,\nand it crumpled up. The plane turned over, and threw them all into the\nriver. They were all weighed down by their heavy suits, and could easily\nhave drowned, but they were pulled out of the water. The Lockheed was\npulled up on board a British carrier, and Anne and Lindy decided to go\nto Shanghai with it and wait while it was being repaired.\n\u201cWhile they were on board the Hermes, the aircraft carrier, they got\nword that Dwight Morrow, Anne\u2019s father, had died. This meant that their\ntrip was over, since they had to get back to the United States as\nquickly as possible. They took a steamer to Vancouver, and then flew\nacross the country to Maine.\u201d\n\u201cFrom then on the Lindberghs dropped out of the news, because they\nwanted to. And they didn\u2019t figure in the news again until that terrible\nday when their baby was kidnapped. That was on March 1st, you remember.\nBut in spite of everything that\u2019s happened, Lindy is carrying on, and so\nis Anne Lindbergh. They\u2019re still the country\u2019s most loved couple.\n\u201cLindy\u2019s still working hard at aviation, and trying to make the world\naviation conscious. That\u2019s what he says his aim is, and that\u2019s what he\nmakes his trips for. He wants people to get so used to airplanes that\nthey\u2019ll ride in them just like they ride in automobiles, without\nthinking twice about it. He hasn\u2019t had any serious accidents, because\nhe\u2019s always careful that everything\u2019s in perfect order before he starts\non a flight. That\u2019s part of his program. He wants to make people see\nthat if you\u2019re cautious enough, flying isn\u2019t dangerous.\n\u201cI think that Lindy\u2019s succeeded in what he\u2019s tried to do. The world, and\nespecially the United States was never more interested in aviation than\nin the year that Lindy flew across the Atlantic. That made them sit up\nand take notice. The United States was way behind Europe in air service,\nbut since it perked up and got interested in what could be done, why,\nits been getting ahead by leaps and bounds.\n\u201cAnd we mustn\u2019t forget that the most important thing about Lindy is that\nhe was born with wings. He wasn\u2019t made a flyer, he just was one. I\u2019ve\nseen him give an exhibition, when we went to see the air races, and\ngolly, you could tell his plane from anybody else\u2019s in the world. He\nhandles it so easily, and takes it off like a thistle and brings it down\nlike a feather. A plane\u2019s just part of him.\n\u201cAnd besides that, he\u2019s as modest as they come. Of course, that\u2019s an old\nstory. Everybody knows that. But it still strikes me as pretty marvelous\nthat a man can make a big success when he\u2019s only 25, and then go on as\nthough nothing had happened, sticking to his work, only working harder\nthan ever. If anybody gets my vote, it\u2019s Lindy, even if he was running\nfor President, and I was old enough to vote.\u201d Bob stopped. \u201cWell,\u201d he\nsaid then, \u201cI guess that\u2019s the end of my story.\u201d\nIt was pretty late. The moon had gone down, and the garden was dark,\nwith the four men making four mounds of deeper black where they sat.\nSuddenly a light in the house switched on, sending out a stream of light\nthat picked out Bob, his hair tousled, his eyes blinking in the sudden\nglare.\nHal started. \u201cIt must be late,\u201d he said anxiously. \u201cI\u2019d better be\ngetting on. The night air\u2014I shouldn\u2019t have stayed so long.\u201d\nThe screen door of the house slammed, and a figure approached, then down\nthe garden walk, strangely burdened.\n\u201cHang around,\u201d said Captain Bill, starting up. \u201cThis is going to be\ninteresting.\u201d He hurried down the path and met Bob\u2019s mother, whose\nstrange burden turned out to be a tray with glasses and a covered dish.\nHe took the tray from her. \u201cYou can\u2019t go now,\u201d he called to Hal. \u201cLook\nwhat we\u2019ve got.\u201d He set the tray down, and lifted the napkin from the\nplate. \u201cHome baked cookies,\u201d he said, and took one. \u201cYou should have\njoined our group sooner,\u201d he said to his sister, between bites.\n\u201cBecause I brought cookies, I suppose, if for no other reason,\u201d she said\nwith a laugh.\n\u201cWhy, Meg, you know that you\u2019d be welcome even without cookies. You\nshould have been here to hear your son and my nephew tell a grand story\nin a grand way.\u201d\nBob felt himself blushing in the dark. Praise from Bill was rare and\nmuch sought after. \u201cAw,\u201d he said, \u201cit wasn\u2019t anything.\u201d\n\u201cIt was a good yarn,\u201d said Bill, emphatically.\n\u201cIf it was a good yarn, then he\u2019s your nephew, all right,\u201d said Mrs.\nMartin. \u201cThere was never anybody like you for yarning. And good ones,\ntoo.\u201d\nCaptain Bill laughed, and took another cookie. \u201cIf I can tell stories\nthe way you bake cookies\u2014\u201d\nHe didn\u2019t finish his sentence. Hal had been standing nervously at the\nedge of the group, waiting for a chance to break in. Now he broke in,\nchance or no chance. \u201cI\u2019ve got to go, really I do,\u201d he said. \u201cMy mother\nwill be worried. Thanks a lot for everything. Goodnight.\u201d He broke into\na run, and disappeared into the darkness.\nCaptain Bill looked after him. \u201cSay, what\u2019s the matter with Hal? What\nwas his hurry?\u201d\nBob was a little embarrassed. He hated to talk disloyally about his\nfriend, but he felt that Bill ought to know. \u201cI guess he\u2019s afraid to be\nout so late alone. You see, Hal\u2019s pretty much of a baby yet. He\u2019s afraid\nof a lot of things he oughtn\u2019t to be afraid of, and he\u2019s always afraid\nthat his mother\u2019s worrying about him.\u201d\n\u201cI think that it\u2019s his mother\u2019s fault,\u201d said Mrs. Martin. \u201cShe\u2019s\npampered him and spoiled him until he can\u2019t do a thing or think for\nhimself. She just didn\u2019t know that the best way to rear a boy is to give\nhim plenty to eat and a place to sleep and let him take care of\nhimself.\u201d\n\u201cThat\u2019s why I turned out so well, isn\u2019t it, Mother?\u201d said Bob.\nHis mother laughed. \u201cOh, I don\u2019t know about you. You must be the\nexception that proves the rule.\u201d\nBill spoke suddenly. \u201cThere ought to be something done about Hal,\u201d he\nsaid. \u201cI like that boy. He\u2019s got the stuff there, but he needs something\nto bring it out. How about it, Bob?\u201d\n\u201cI think so, Bill,\u201d said Bob, pleased that Captain Bill had seen so much\nin his friend. \u201cI\u2019ve been trying to help Hal, and I think that he\u2019s\ngetting much better than he was, don\u2019t you, Mother?\u201d\n\u201cI have noticed an improvement,\u201d said Mrs. Martin.\n\u201cThere\u2019ll be more before I go home,\u201d said Captain Bill.\n\u201cDon\u2019t hog the cookies,\u201d said Pat, making his first, but most important\ncontribution to the conversation. But Pat, though he had said nothing,\nhad thought a lot.\nCHAPTER VII\u2014A Close Shave\nThe next two weeks were hectic ones for Pat, the Captain and their two\nfriends, with Pat teaching the boys to fly, the boys learning to fly,\nthe Captain generally directing all activities, and three of them\nplanning and preparing for their flight to the Adirondacks. Hal couldn\u2019t\ngo. It was with real sorrow that he told them that his mother would not\npermit him to go with them. Hal was beginning to enjoy better his\nflights into the air, and his companionship with his new friends. Pat\ndid not frighten him at all now, and his happiest hours were those that\nhe spent with him, Bob and Captain Bill. He knew that he would be very\nlonesome if they went off without him, but no amount of persuasion on\nhis part would move his mother in her determination that he should not\ngo. She had so many arguments on her side that Hal was completely\nfloored when he tried to point out to her the reasons why it would be\nperfectly safe for him to go with his friends.\nBob was downcast. He knew that he would have a good time with Pat and\nBill, but he knew too that he\u2019d have a better time if someone his own\nage were along. After all, he couldn\u2019t do anything as well as Pat and\nBill. He couldn\u2019t fly a plane, although he was learning rapidly, and\nwould soon be able to take a solo flight; he couldn\u2019t shoot as\naccurately as they; nor land a mountain trout so well. Hal, who was also\na novice, would have been just as inexpert as he was at all these\nthings, and would have made him feel not quite so stupid. And then there\nwere always things to talk about to Hal that the others wouldn\u2019t be able\nto understand\u2014in fact, Hal and he spoke a language of their own. It\nwould have been fun if Hal could have come along\u2014but if he couldn\u2019t go,\nhe couldn\u2019t go. Bob decided that he\u2019d better take the matter\nphilosophically. So he joined in the plans of the Captain and Pat with\nall his usual energy. Hal helped, too, Even if he was not going with\nthem, he wanted to get the thrill at least of being in on the start.\nThey were all down at the airport every day, rain or shine. Pat gave\nthem a good background of ground work, and then let them fly with him.\nBob, with his natural quickness, could have flown solo almost after his\nfirst flight, but Pat would not take the responsibility of letting the\nboy go up alone.\nHal, on the other hand, had more obstacles to overcome. The first was\nthe terror that he had felt on his first flight. However, after repeated\nflights, and the feeling of power that he gained from actually having\nthe controls in his hands, he overcame his fear enough to fly with Pat,\nand fly well.\nTwo days before their departure for the mountains, Pat and Bill decided\nthat the boys ought to make their solo flights, so that Hal would have\nmade a solo flight before they left him.\nPat had taken the Marianne up into the air, had \u201ctaken a look about,\u201d\nand landed her again. He turned to the two boys and asked, \u201cwho\u2019s\nfirst?\u201d\n\u201cMe,\u201d said Bob.\n\u201cAll right,\u201d said Pat, and Bob climbed into the cockpit smiling\nconfidently.\n\u201cSee you soon,\u201d called Bob, and waved a hand in farewell. He taxied the\nplane out over the runway, turned her nose into the wind, and felt her\nrise from the ground. He felt a thrill of power as the machine responded\nto the slightest movement of the stick. He had control of all the\nboundless energy stored in that motor, and could direct this huge craft\nin any direction he chose. He felt the blast of wind against his face.\nHe was off the ground now, flying low, just clearing a small tool house.\nHe pointed the nose of the Marianne up and climbed slowly, then leveled\noff again. His instruments showed that he was flying at about a thousand\nfeet up. The motor sounded good. The air was smooth. Bob felt a keen\nexhilaration. He wanted to shout in triumph. At last he was flying a\nplane, alone.\nAgain he pointed the nose up into the air, and climbed to about 5,000\nfeet. The sky was clear and cloudless. He lost all track of time and\nspace. He seemed to be by himself in the universe. But he knew that he\nwasn\u2019t. The others would be expecting him back. Reluctantly he banked\nand turned around, and headed once more for the airport. He throttled\ndown the motor and glided swiftly to earth. He saw the grass below turn\ngreen as he approached it; he leveled off. In his excitement, he kept\nthe tail of the plane a little too high, his front wheels landed too\nsoon, and he felt for a breath-taking moment that he was going over on\nhis nose. But the Marianne righted herself, and taxied docilely along\nthe ground.\nBob jumped out, pushing back his goggles. \u201cHow was that?\u201d he shouted to\nPat and Bill, who came running up to him.\nPat glowered. \u201cWhat a landing!\u201d he said, in disgust. \u201cYoung man, is that\nthe sort of landing I taught you?\u201d\nBob\u2019s smile faded, and he looked crestfallen. \u201cI didn\u2019t level off,\u201d he\nsaid.\n\u201cOf course you didn\u2019t. A blind man could tell you that.\u201d Then Pat\u2019s\nvoice suddenly changed. \u201cBut you handled her like a veteran,\u201d he said.\n\u201cYou\u2019ve got the makings of an ace in you, lad.\u201d\nBob\u2019s ready grin spread quickly over his face again. \u201cDid I really?\u201d he\ncried. \u201cBill, what did you think?\u201d He was perfectly willing to hear\nhimself praised, now that he was sure that his performance has been\ngood.\n\u201cOh, you\u2019re all right,\u201d said Bill grudgingly. \u201cHow about Hal? It\u2019s his\nturn now.\u201d He turned to Hal. \u201cYou show this young fellow how to make a\nthree point landing,\u201d he said, and gave Hal a little clap on the\nshoulder.\nHal came forward. He was unusually silent, and his face was pale. He had\nstruggled with his fear and he felt that he had conquered it. He had\ncome to have confidence in his handling of the Marianne with Pat or Bill\nin the other cockpit, ready to take the controls if anything went wrong.\nNow he would have confidence taking her up alone. He set his jaw grimly\nand got into the cockpit. The motor was warm, and sounded good. Hal took\nthe Marianne into the air with a grace that made Pat and Bill look at\neach other with surprise and congratulation.\n\u201cThe kid\u2019s got the stuff, all right,\u201d said Bill. \u201cI knew he had. Who\nsaid he didn\u2019t have nerve?\u201d\n\u201cHe\u2019s better for it, too,\u201d said Pat. \u201cIt\u2019s done him good, all right.\u201d\nThey watched the plane climbing into the cloudless skies. Then suddenly\nthe sound of the motor ceased. \u201cGood grief,\u201d cried Pat. The others were\ntoo horrified even to cry out. They saw the plane stall, then fall nose\ndown, spiraling as it went.\nWhen he heard the motor conk, Hal\u2019s heart stood still. He tried the\nstick frantically. The rudder, the ailerons, would not respond. The\nthrottle brought no answering roar of power. The Marianne had become\nsuddenly a mad thing, an enemy, bent on his destruction. She\nside-slipped, her nose dipped down, an she went into a tailspin.\nHal was frantic. His first impulse was to pull up on the stick, in order\nto bring up the tail. Then some glint of reason came through his terror,\nand he remembered Pat\u2019s warning that this was the last thing he should\ndo to pull himself up. But what had Pat said? He couldn\u2019t remember. Then\nsuddenly it came to him. Push forward on your stick! With an effort he\nmade himself push forward. The Marianne gave a convulsive shudder. But\nthe action had taken her out of her spin. With a feeling of unutterable\nrelief Hal felt her come out of her spin and go into a glide. He looked\nover the side of the plane. He was rushing toward a brick building, at\nthe furthest end of the airport! There was nothing to do now but crash.\nHe was too close to stretch out the glide!\nWith a last desperate movement, Hal opened the throttle of his engine.\nThe motor caught! With a thrill of joy he heard the roar of the motor as\nit started again, and felt the stick respond to his touch. He pulled\nback the stick, the nose of the plane lifted, and he zoomed into the\nair.\nDown on the ground Pat, Bill and Bob had gone through the tortures of\nthe damned, watching Hal fall to what seemed certain death, while they\nstood helplessly below. When they saw him zoom once more into the air,\ntheir hearts bounded with him.\n\u201cThe gas-line must have been clogged!\u201d shouted Pat. \u201cIt cleared itself\nout when they dived!\u201d\n\u201cThank God,\u201d said Bill.\nBob could say nothing, but kept shouting Hal, Hal, Hal, over and over\nagain. Hal was gliding in, now, to land.\nHe got out of the cockpit, white and shaking. The others, beside\nthemselves with joy, surrounded him, shaking his hand, hugging him,\npatting his shoulder. But Hal did not seem to notice what was happening.\n\u201cYou handled that plane like Lindbergh!\u201d shouted Pat. \u201cGood boy.\u201d\nBut all that Hal said was, \u201cI\u2019m never going up again.\u201d\nPat had gone over to the plane to look it over. \u201cIt seems all right,\u201d he\nsaid, turning off the motor that he had tested. \u201cBut there must have\nbeen a bit of dirt in the line leading from the gas tank. You had a\nlucky escape, lad. It was quick thinking that you did up there. I\u2019m\nproud of you.\u201d\nBut Captain Bill saw that Hal was in no mood for praise. He knew, too,\nthat the best cure for the boy was to take him right up again into the\nair, so that he would have no time to develop a phobia against going up.\nBut he would not risk taking up the Marianne until it had had a thorough\noverhauling.\nThe Captain put his arm around Hal\u2019s shoulder. \u201cYou mustn\u2019t say that\nyou\u2019re never going up again, Hal, old man,\u201d he said. \u201cYou proved\nyourself up there. You\u2019re going to make a great flyer.\u201d\n\u201cIt was great, Hal, great,\u201d said Bob. \u201cI would have crashed the old bus\nand killed myself. I couldn\u2019t have kept my head.\u201d\nHal said nothing except that he wanted to go home. Pat stayed behind\nwith the plane while the other three went over to the parking lot to get\ntheir machine. \u201cDon\u2019t say anything to my mother, whatever you do,\u201d said\nHal. \u201cI don\u2019t want her to worry. After all, nothing really happened to\nme, and why should she be frightened for nothing?\u201d\nBob and the Captain promised to say nothing. In fact, they spoke very\nlittle on the way home. Hal was worn out emotionally and the others were\noccupied with their own thoughts.\nThe Captain was worried by the new turn that affairs had taken. He was\ndisappointed that all the progress that had been made in Hal\u2019s education\nhad been ruined on the first solo flight. It would have been all right\nif he had been able to take Hal into the air again, but he couldn\u2019t.\nTomorrow they would be too busy with their preparations to do any\nflying, and the day after that, they would start for the Adirondacks,\nleaving Hal behind. Without his friends, and with the memory of his\nterror fresh in his mind, Hal would fall back into his old fears, and be\nactually worse off than ever. The time to cure Hal was at once, if at\nall.\nCaptain Bill had an idea. He thought about it rather carefully most of\nthe way home, and when they were almost home, he broached his plan.\n\u201cSay, Hal, how about coming over tonight\u2014with your mother? I\u2019m going to\ntell my story after dinner, tonight, and I thought maybe she\u2019d like to\nhear it.\u201d\nHal was rather surprised. His mother rarely visited, and did not see\nvery much of the Martins. In fact, she had been to the Martins only\ntwice since they had been neighbors, and one of those visits had been to\nreturn Mrs. Martin\u2019s formal call upon her new neighbor when the Greggs\nhad moved into the house next door. But Hal said, \u201cWhy, I\u2019ll ask Mother.\nI don\u2019t think she\u2019s busy, and I guess she\u2019d like to hear your story,\nCaptain Bill. I\u2019ve been telling her about the stories, you know.\u201d\n\u201cGood,\u201d laughed the Captain. \u201cDon\u2019t tell her too much, though. I want\nher to come to hear them.\u201d\n\u201cI think she\u2019ll like to come,\u201d said Hal. Thinking it over, he felt\nconvinced that his mother should hear Captain Bill\u2019s story that night.\nHe knew she would enjoy the evening with them all. They were a jolly\nlot, and Mrs. Martin often was lonesome when Hal went off and left her\nalone. She would be better for a night of company. And perhaps\u2014well, Hal\ncould not dare to hope\u2014perhaps she would approve more of his going on a\ntrip with these men if she knew how splendid they were. But then Hal\nshuddered. They were going to fly to the mountains. And he was never\ngoing to fly in a plane again. He felt that he would rather do anything\nin the world than put himself in a position again where he might\nexperience the awful horror of feeling himself going into a nose dive.\nThey let Hal off at his home. When Bob and the Captain were alone, Bob\nasked why Bill had thought of inviting Hal\u2019s mother to hear his story\nthat night.\n\u201cWhy, Mrs. Gregg\u2019s a nice woman. Don\u2019t you think that I should have\ninvited her?\u201d asked the Captain, with a twinkle.\n\u201cOh, but you must have some other reason,\u201d said Bob. \u201cYou don\u2019t want her\nto come over just because you want an audience for your story.\u201d\n\u201cWell, to tell the truth,\u201d the Captain answered, \u201cI have a motive. Can I\ncount on you to help me?\u201d\n\u201cIf it\u2019s not murder,\u201d said Bob.\n\u201cNothing like it,\u201d the Captain said. \u201cThis is my plan, Bob. You know\nthat we want Hal to come along with us on our trip, now more than at any\nother time. If we leave him now, all the good that flying and being with\nus has done him will be wasted, and Hal will be the same fraid-cat that\nhe was before we began to educate him. Now, I\u2019m going to tell the story\nof Byrd tonight. Byrd started on his adventures when he was very young.\nHe had a brave mother, who saw that following his own inclinations was\ngood for her son. That much is for Mrs. Gregg. Second\u2014Byrd had to\novercome a great many obstacles before he reached his goal. That part is\nfor young Hal. Now, if the Gregg family takes my story seriously\ntonight, I think that we may have Hal with us on our flight. And Hal\nwill be a new boy. How about it?\u201d\nBob looked admiringly at his uncle. \u201cGee,\u201d he said, \u201cthat\u2019s a great\nidea. But I think that you\u2019ll have to tell a pretty convincing story.\u201d\n\u201cDon\u2019t you think that I can?\u201d\n\u201cGolly, I\u2019m not going to worry about that,\u201d said Bob. \u201cI\u2019m sure you\ncan.\u201d\nWhen they got in, they found Mrs. Martin sewing, and lost no time in\ntelling her first the events of the day, and second, their plans for the\nevening.\n\u201cBut why didn\u2019t you invite her to dinner?\u201d asked Mrs. Martin. \u201cI\u2019m sure\nwe\u2019d enjoy having them with us.\u201d\n\u201cI didn\u2019t think of that,\u201d said the Captain, \u201cor rather, I thought that I\nwas taking enough liberty in just inviting somebody to your home for the\nevening.\u201d\n\u201cI\u2019ll call her,\u201d said Mrs. Martin firmly. A far away look came into her\neyes. \u201cYou know,\u201d she said, \u201cI think that I shall do some talking to\nMrs. Gregg myself, I have some things to tell her about raising her own\nson. I suppose she will resent it, but I shall at least have the\nsatisfaction of getting it off my chest, and perhaps of helping poor\nHal.\u201d\n\u201cHal\u2019s the one I\u2019m interested in,\u201d said the Captain. \u201cHe acted like a\nreal hero in that plane today. Kept his head, and saved himself and the\nplane. He\u2019s got the stuff, all right, and he can handle a plane.\u201d\n\u201cI\u2019m with you, Captain,\u201d said Bob. \u201cAnd with you and Mom on the job, I\ndon\u2019t see how anybody can possibly get away with anything. You two could\nconvince anybody of anything.\u201d\nHis mother looked at him speculatively. \u201cCan I convince you right now\nthat you ought to go up and wash? Believe me, young man, you can\u2019t get\naway with looking that dirty, if that\u2019s what you mean.\u201d\nGrinning sheepishly, Bob went out of the room. \u201cYou win,\u201d he called.\n\u201cAnd I\u2019m betting on you tonight, too.\u201d\nCHAPTER VIII\u2014North Pole and South\nDinner was a jolly affair. Everybody was in excellent humor. Hal had\nquite recovered from his afternoon\u2019s experience; Pat had succeeded in\ngetting the Marianne into perfect shape; Bill looked forward to his\nevening\u2019s plans with relish; and Bob was happy just on general\nprinciples, anticipating a great evening, and because he was usually\nhappy. Mrs. Gregg, who often became lonely by herself, was glad of being\nin such pleasant company.\nThey went into the garden after dinner, and the Captain, after filling\nup his ever-present pipe, began his story.\n\u201cWell,\u201d he said, \u201cthere\u2019s only one way to begin the story of anybody\u2019s\nlife. That\u2019s by telling when he was born, because after all, that\u2019s the\nfirst thing that happens to a man, isn\u2019t it? Well, Admiral Richard\nEvelyn Byrd was born on October 25, 1888, in Winchester, Virginia, where\nthere had been Byrds ever since anybody could remember. In fact, the\nfirst Byrd settled in America about 1690, and the name has been a\nprominent and honored one ever since. There were Byrds fighting in the\nRevolution and in the Civil War, so it wasn\u2019t from nowhere that our\nRichard Evelyn got his courage and grit that carried him through the\ndangers of being the first man to cross both the North and the South\npoles in a plane.\n\u201cHe had a grandmother, too, who gave him a goodly supply of what it\ntakes to do great deeds. That was Jane Byrd, who was the sort of person\naround whom legends spring up, and are carried down from generation to\ngeneration. In fact, one of them was a famous story of her killing of a\nhuge blacksnake. It was during the Civil War. Her husband and her\nbrother were both fighting for the Confederacy, and Jane Byrd was left\nalone to manage the great plantation and farm. And manage it she did.\nOne day she went to gather the eggs in the chicken house, and found a\ngreat blacksnake had swallowed twelve prized guinea eggs that had been\nset under a setting hen. She clubbed the snake to death with a club,\ntaking care not to strike the twelve bumps that showed all down its body\nthe places where the twelve guinea eggs reposed. Then she cut the snake\nopen and took out the eggs and put them back under the hen, without a\nbit of fuss or excitement. She took seriously the charge that she must\ntake care of the estate while her men were away fighting.\n\u201cRichard Byrd couldn\u2019t have had better ancestors to back him up in his\nadventures, but every ounce of courage, every bit of perseverance that\nhe inherited, he needed. He was a man who met with hundreds of\ndisappointments, and innumerable obstacles in carrying out the plans\nthat meant so much to him and to the world. But he was never downed by\nthem. Set-backs that would have made other men, men of lesser caliber\nturn from their paths and give up their plans, were just so much more of\na spur to him.\n\u201cDick Byrd was never a robust man. He had the physical handicap of a bad\nankle to overcome, and his general build has always been slight. He is\nnot the huge, strapping hero of story-book fame; he was the little\nNapoleon with a great determination that outweighed any physical\nweakness. A man doesn\u2019t have to be big to get places. A little fellow,\nif he wants to badly enough, can accomplish a lot.\n\u201cAnd Dick Byrd certainly wanted badly to go to the Pole. Even when he\nwas a kid in school, it was his ambition to be the first man to reach\nthe North Pole. Somebody beat him to it. Peary got there first, but it\ntook him a long time, and he had to go on foot. Byrd flew, and\naccomplished in a few hours what had taken days and weeks to do before.\n\u201cNot only did he want to go to the Pole\u2014he wanted to go to all sorts of\nplaces, and he did, too. Before he was fourteen years old, Richard Byrd\ntraveled alone around the world! That took nerve. And not only nerve on\nRichard Byrd\u2019s part, but on the part of his mother! The trip wasn\u2019t a\nregular round-the-world tour that anybody can make today on a boat\nthat\u2019s like a little palace, but it was a rough, adventurous voyage on\nan army transport, and a British tramp.\n\u201cIt was like this. You see, Dick had struck up a friendship with Captain\nKit Carson. After the Spanish American War, Carson went to the\nPhilippines as a Circuit Court Judge. But he didn\u2019t forget his friend\nDick. They exchanged letters. In one letter the Captain mentioned that\nit would be a fine idea if Dick Byrd came down to the Philippines to see\nthe exciting time that they were having down there. Dick took him up on\nthe idea, and made plans to go. At first his mother was horrified at the\nidea, since Dick was not a strong boy. But with unusual intelligence,\nshe decided to let him go, since the trip would be an educational one,\nand would do the boy more good than any possible harm that could come to\nhim. The very fact that he wanted so badly to go, and planned his trip\nso carefully, made her feel that he had reached an age where he must be\nallowed to decide for himself. This was a very wise decision on her\npart, since it was probably this trip, with its adventures in\nself-reliance that made Richard into the successful adventurer that he\nis.\u201d\n\u201cThe trip to Manila was made exciting by a typhoon that stuck the\ntransport\u2014something that the boy would not have wanted to miss, although\nthe Captain of the transport could have done very well without it\u2014he\nsaid it was the worst that he\u2019d ever been through.\n\u201cThey got to Manila, though, safe and sound, and Dick was greeted by his\nfriend Carson. Manila was intensely amusing for a boy of fourteen.\nAmusing, and mighty exciting. The excitement included a lone combat with\na gang of angry rebels armed with knives\u2014from which the young Dick\nescaped only by the fleetness of his pony\u2019s heels. That\u2019s the sort of\nadventure young boys dream of, and that\u2019s the sort they should have to\nlook back on, if they are to live the full sort of life that Richard\nByrd did.\n\u201cFrom Manila, Dick went visiting to Darim Island. On the island the\ncholera plague was raging, and Dick got exposed to the disease. They put\nhim into quarantine. He didn\u2019t get the cholera, but all around him men\nwere dying in terrible agony. Finally the doctor managed to get Dick to\nthe seaport, and he got a boat for Manila. They were glad to see him\nback, and he was glad to be back.\n\u201cAfter Manila, Dick went on his merry way around the world by way of\nCeylon and the Red Sea to Port Said, where he reshipped for the last lap\nof his cruise. It was a wonderful trip for a boy, and there\u2019s no doubt\nthat it had a great influence on all that he did later.\n\u201cWhen Richard got back, and had settled down more or less, his parents\ndecided that he should go to Virginia Military Institute. He was popular\nat the Institute, as he was popular wherever he went, for his\nspirit\u2014that old spirit that carried him around the world, and later\nacross both of the earth\u2019s poles. It was the same spirit that made him\ntry out for the football team at V.M.I.\u2014and carried him to the position\nof end on the first team. It was at that time that an incident occurred\nwhich was to be very significant in his later life. In one game of the\nseason he broke his ankle. This was not important in itself\u2014but it\nhappened to be the first break of an ankle that was going to bother Dick\nagain and again\u2014and almost at one time defeat him entirely.\n\u201cBut I\u2019m getting ahead of my story. After being graduated from the\nMilitary Institute, Dick Byrd went quite naturally to Annapolis. He\nentered in 1908. He carried his popularity and his success with him to\nthis place. His grades were not of the highest, but he excelled in\nathletics, going out for football again, besides track, boxing, and\nwrestling.\n\u201cIn his last year at Annapolis, Dick\u2019s ankle made itself felt again.\nDick was Captain of his gym squad, which was competing in the big\nexhibition of the year. Dick, as Captain, wanted to make a spectacular\nshowing, and cinch the meet for his team. To do this, he invented an\nintricate, complicated series of tricks on the bars, calculated to stir\nup the most lethargic members of the audience. It would have been a\ngreat trick\u2014if it had succeeded\u2014but it didn\u2019t. Dick slipped, somehow,\nand his hands failed to connect with the bars. Down he went\u2014on the same\nankle, breaking it once more.\n\u201cIn 1912 he got his commission, and became an ensign. And he also began\nto formulate plans for his great adventures. Connected with the\nNavy\u2014there was no telling what opportunity for adventure would come to\nhim. But he reckoned without his ankle. It gave way a third time\u2014this\ntime while he was going down a gangway, so that he was pitched headfirst\ndown. They tried to fix up the ankle\u2014in fact, they joined the bones\ntogether with a silver nail. That is, Byrd thought that they had used a\nsilver nail\u2014and when he discovered that just a plain, ordinary nail had\nbeen used, he felt very much deflated. Nail and all, Byrd walked with a\nlimp, and an ensign with a limp was just useless, so far as the Navy was\nconcerned. So Byrd was retired.\n\u201cThat must have been an awful blow to him. Not only was the only career\nopen to him cut short, but he had been married the year before, to Marie\nAmes, a childhood sweetheart from Winchester. So that his retirement\naffected not just himself, but another as well.\n\u201cIt might have floored a lesser man. But not Dick Byrd. In 1917 the\nUnited States went into the World War, And Byrd, who had been rejected\nby the Navy, and who doubtless could not have found a place in the army,\ndecided to go into the branch of the service that wouldn\u2019t ask questions\nabout his bad leg\u2014because it didn\u2019t matter whether he had a bad leg or\nnot\u2014in aviation. So to aviation he turned.\n\u201cHe entered the Naval flying school at Pensacola, Florida. It was a\nlucky day for Byrd and for aviation that he took to the air. It seems\nthat the air was where he belonged. He was a Byrd by birth, and might\nhave been born with wings, for the ease with which he took to flying.\n\u201cHe became assistant superintendent of the school, and was on the\ncommission to investigate accidents. There were a lot of them, then. The\nplanes were not so highly developed as they are now\u2014and the green\nyoungsters who were entering the service could not handle them. You can\nimagine how horrible it was to see some friend\u2019s plane come crashing\ndown into the ocean, and have to be the first to go out in the rescue\nboat, in order to do what was possible to rescue him, and to discover\nwhat had caused the accident. A warning from the observation\ntower\u2014somebody was in tailspin. A deafening crash! And the rescue boat\nwould be put out before the waves from the great splash had subsided. At\nthis work Byrd learned that more than half of the accidents could have\nbeen avoided with care\u2014either in inspecting the machine before going up,\nor in handling it up in the air.\n\u201cDick Byrd was just too good. That was his tough luck at this point in\nhis career. He was too good to be sent over to France, where he wanted\nto go. He was sent instead to Canada, where he was chief of the American\nair forces in Canada. At this job, as well as at any other that he\nundertook, Byrd acquitted himself admirably. And even though he chafed\nat being kept in America, he did his job well.\n\u201cBut his mind was soaring across the ocean. As early as 1917 Byrd wanted\nto fly the Atlantic. But there was always something that interfered.\nAfter the war, he petitioned the Navy again about a cross-Atlantic\nvoyage, and was given permission to go over to England and sail the ZR-2\nback to America. How tragically this may have ended for Byrd you can\nsee. The ZR-2, on a trial flight suddenly burst into flames and crashed\ninto the Humber river. Forty-four of the passengers were killed, among\nthem friends of Byrd. It was Richard Byrd\u2019s task to investigate the\nwreck that might very easily have claimed him for one of its victims.\n\u201cIn 1924 his hopes seemed about to be realized at last. He was assigned\nto the dirigible Shenandoah, and was to fly it across Alaska and the\nNorth Pole. But the Shenandoah, too, met with disaster, and Byrd\u2019s hopes\nwere again dashed. The Navy rejected his petition to go with Amundsen on\nthe trip that he planned over the Pole, and all hope seemed gone. In\nfact, as a final blow, Byrd was retired from the aviation service\naltogether.\n\u201cBut he was as undaunted by this setback as he had been by his\nretirement from the Navy. He set about immediately to organize his own\nPolar expedition, which was to be climaxed by his flight over the Pole\n\u201cFloyd Bennett, whom Byrd often said was the best man in the world to\nfly with, helped him plan his expedition which was to be the realization\nof all his boyhood dreams and visions. It wasn\u2019t easy to plan, and the\nforesighted planning, they knew, would mean the success or failure of\ntheir project.\n\u201cThey chose a three-motored Fokker monoplane, with 200 horsepower Wright\nair-cooled motors. It was 42 feet 9 inches long, with a wing spread of\nover 63 feet. It was capable of a high speed of 120 miles an hour.\n\u201cThat was the plane, the Josephine Ford. Their ship was the Chantier,\ngiven him by the Shipping Board. The crew was made up of picked men, and\nByrd knows how to pick them. Not one of them failed to live up to his\nexpectations on that trip.\n\u201cOn April 5, 1926, all of the plans being completed, and the last\nsupplies of food to last fifty men for six months being stowed away, the\nChantier sailed from New York for King\u2019s Bay, Spitzbergen. They got\nthere on April 29th, after an uneventful trip, and anchored in the Bay.\nBut the problem of getting the plane to shore arose. They solved it by\nbuilding a huge raft, loading the heavy ship onto it, and towing it to\nshore through the choppy, ice-blocked water.\n\u201cWhen they got the plane onto the shore, the wheels sank into the snow,\nand they had to replace them with skis, which seemed ample to sustain\nthe weight of even that great craft. How frail they really were was to\nbe proved later.\n\u201cByrd and his men set up camp, and prepared for the take-off to the\nPole. They had to work fast. The Amundsen-Ellsworth-Nobile Expedition\nwith its dirigible the Norge was well on its way with its preparations,\nand while there was no bitter rivalry between the two expeditions,\nnevertheless the distinction of being the first to fly over the Pole was\none not to be sneezed at. Everybody worked\u2014eighteen hours a day, with\nmeals taken on the run. And nobody thought to complain\u2014the morale never\nbroke once. That\u2019s the sort of man Byrd picks to take with him\u2014and\nthat\u2019s the sort of respect they have for a man who chooses them. Byrd\u2019s\na leader. No matter where he has come in contact with men, he has won\ntheir love and respect, and has got more work out of them by his\nkindness and gentleness than anybody else could have by slave-driving.\nThey worked for Byrd because they liked to, not because they had to. He\nimbued them with his spirit of adventure, so that every man of them was\ndetermined that his expedition should be successful, and that Byrd\nshould be the first man to fly across the Pole.\n\u201cOne of the hardest jobs of all was packing down the snow into a hard,\nsmooth runway for taking off. They had to take off going down hill,\nsince there was no level stretch of snow for their start, and this hill\nhad to be smoothed and leveled. The first attempt at a take-off was\ndisastrous. The plane landed in a snowdrift, with a broken ski. The\ncarpenters worked for two days and nights to make new skis, and the ship\nwas ready for its second attempt.\n\u201cThe second trial flight was a huge success. The ship rolled down the\nincline and took gently and gracefully into the air. At least they would\nbe able to get off. The landing, too, was beautiful. So far, so good.\nThey discovered by this trial flight that they could make the North Pole\nand return without landing once, as they had planned before.\n\u201cThe Josephine Ford was a mighty heavy craft, and loaded with fuel and\nsupplies, which they would need in case of a forced landing and overland\ntrek, she weighed five tons. This accounts for the terrible job getting\nher off the ground and into the air.\n\u201cWell, finally everything was ready, the weather was just right; the\nmotors had been warmed up, and Bennet and Byrd climbed into the plane,\nready to start. Down the runway they coasted. There was a tense moment.\nWould she lift? With a groan, the men on the ground saw her lurch, roll\ninto a snowdrift, and all but turn over.\n\u201cA lesser man, as I said once before, would have been discouraged. But\nnot Byrd! He got out, inspected the plane, and found to his joy that it\nhad not been damaged. No delay! Off again. They lightened the load as\nmuch as they dared by taking off some fuel, then taxied the Josephine\nFord up the hill again. The men worked like Trojans to get the runway\nlengthened and smoothed out again. At last everything was ready.\n\u201cByrd and Bennett decided to stake everything on that last trial. They\ndecided to give the engine all the speed they could, so that at the end\nof her run she\u2019d either rise into the air, or crack up once and for all.\nEven as they planned, they hoped against hope that it would be the\nformer, and not the latter. The weather was perfect. It was a little\npast midnight. The men of the expedition were gathered about, anxiously\nawaiting the take-off. Byrd and Bennett shook hands with them, stepped\ninto the cabin of the ship and started down the runway. The great ship\nrose laboriously into the air. There was a shout from their comrades.\nThey were off for the North Pole! Those on the ground cheered lustily.\nThe Great Adventure, for which one of those men in the air had been\npreparing all his life, had begun.\n\u201cThey had to navigate first by dead reckoning, following the landmarks\nin the vicinity of King\u2019s Bay. They climbed to a good distance so that\nthey could get a perfect view of the land below them, and looked down\nupon the snowy mountains, scenery grander than any they had ever seen\nbefore, and terrifying, too. In a short time they left the land behind,\nand crossed the edge of the polar ice pack.\n\u201cThere are no landmarks on the ice, and when they reached the ice pack,\nthey had to begin their careful navigating. In the first place, they had\nto hit the Pole exactly, chiefly because that was the place they had set\nout for, and then because if they didn\u2019t hit it exactly, they would have\nno way of reckoning their path back to Spitzbergen, and would be lost in\nthe arctic wastes.\n\u201cBut expert navigating was Dick Byrd\u2019s strong point. He had developed a\nsextant by which the altitude of the sun could be gaged without\nreference to the horizon line, and that was exactly what he needed now,\nbecause due to the formations of ice, the horizon was irregular. But\nfiguring out position by means of the sextant requires at least an hour\nof mathematical calculation, and by the time the position had been\nfigured, the men in the airplane had advanced about a hundred miles or\nmore. So they used a method that they had learned, whereby their\nposition could be judged by means of taking the altitude of the sun and\nlaying down the line of position on a sort of graph.\n\u201cTheir compass was of little value. They were too near the North\nMagnetic Pole, which had a tendency to pull their magnet from the\ngeographical Pole to its own position, about 1,000 miles south. So they\nused a sun compass, that indicated their position by means of the sun.\nOf course, the fact that they had sun throughout the whole trip was an\nadvantage. I doubt if they could have made it otherwise. Navigating up\nthere is too difficult. Then they had to figure on wind drift. The wind,\nblowing pretty hard, say, about 30 miles an hour at right angles to\ntheir plane would cause it to drift thirty miles an hour out of its\ncourse. This they were able to make up for by means of the drift\nindicator, which compensated for the drift.\n\u201cBennett piloted first. He would glance back to the cabin where Byrd was\nbusy with the navigating instruments, and Byrd would indicate to him how\nto steer his course by waving his hand to the right or the left. When\nthey were certain of their course, Byrd looked down on the land that he\nhad desired to see since he had been a boy in school. Below them,\nstretching for mile upon mile was the ice pack, criss-crossed with\nridges, seeming like mere bumps in the ice from their altitude, but\nreally about 50 or 60 feet high. Every now and then they saw a lead,\nopened by the movement of the water\u2014those treacherous leads that had led\nmany a hardy explorer to his death.\n\u201cByrd took the wheel. He steered with one hand while he held the compass\nin the other. Bennett poured gasoline into the tanks, and threw\noverboard the empty cans, to relieve the plane of weight. From then on\nthey took turn and turn about at the wheel, Byrd navigating incessantly,\nuntil he had a slight attack of snow blindness from looking down at the\nsnow so constantly.\n\u201cSoon they came to land where no man had ever been before. It was then\nthat Byrd felt that he was being repaid for all the planning, all the\nhard work and heart-breaking disappointments that he had experienced.\nThe sun was shining, the Josephine Ford functioning perfectly.\n\u201cPerfectly? Just a minute. They were about an hour from the Pole. Byrd\nnoticed through the cabin window a bad leak in the oil tank of one\nmotor. If the oil leaked out, the motor would burn up and stop. Should\nthey land? No. Why not go on as far as they could, perhaps reach the\nPole? They would be no worse off landing at the Pole than landing here,\nand they would have reached their goal. So on they kept. Byrd glued his\neyes to the oil pressure gauge. If it dropped, their motor was doomed.\nBut they would not land, or turn back.\n\u201cLuck was with them. At about two minutes past nine o\u2019clock, they\ncrossed the Pole. It takes just a minute to say it, but how many years\nof planning, how many years of patiently surmounting obstacles had\nprepared for that minute\u2019s statement!\n\u201cBelow them was the frozen, snow-covered ocean, with the ice broken up\ninto various formations of ice fields, indicating that there was no land\nabout. Byrd flew the plane in a circle several miles in diameter, with\nthe Pole as a center. His field of view was 120 miles in diameter. All\nthis while he was flying south, since all directions away from the Pole\nare south. And now, his purpose accomplished, his hardest task faced\nhim. He had to fly back to Spitzbergen.\n\u201cSoon after he left the Pole, the sextant that he was using slid off the\nchart table, breaking the horizon glass. He had to navigate the whole\ntrip back by dead reckoning! With the oil fast spurting out, and the\nmotor threatening to stop any minute, and no sextant to show his\nposition, Byrd had his hands full. They lost track of time. Minutes\nseemed like hours, hours like ages. Then they saw land dead ahead. It\nwas Spitzbergen! Byrd had flown into the unknown, 600 miles from any\nland, had turned about, and come back to the very spot from which he had\nstarted.\n\u201cMaybe you don\u2019t realize what wonderful navigating this was. But anybody\nwho has navigated a plane by dead reckoning knows that it was a feat\nthat called for great skill.\n\u201cNobody was prouder of what Byrd and Bennett had done than the men who\nhad worked so hard to make the trip a success, and who had stayed behind\nat Spitzbergen, without glory or reward except in knowing that they had\nbeen a necessary feature in the success of that journey. The whistle of\nthe Chantier blew a shrill whistle of welcome. The men ran to greet Byrd\nand Bennett, and carried them in triumph on their shoulders. Among the\nfirst to greet them were Amundsen and Ellsworth, whom Byrd had beaten in\nthe race to be the first to cross the Pole by air. But they shook hands\nwith vigor. They were glad that it was Byrd who had beaten them, if it\nhad to be anybody. Byrd affects people that way. He\u2019s just as well liked\nafter successes as before them. That\u2019s the sort he is.\n\u201cThey were pretty glad to see him when he got back to the United States,\ntoo. There were plenty of whistles blowing, plenty of ticker tape, and\nparades for the returning hero. But Dick Byrd stayed modest through all\nof it. In the first place, he never gets fussed. He isn\u2019t a southern\ngentleman for nothing. And in the second place, he realized that the\nshouting wasn\u2019t so much for him as it was for the thing that he did. He\nhad brought the United States the honor of sending the first men over\nthe Pole. And the United States was applauding the deed, not himself.\nBut he seems to have forgotten that if it hadn\u2019t been for his years of\nplanning, striving and struggling the deed never would have been\naccomplished.\n\u201cWell, Dick Byrd had accomplished his life\u2019s ambition. But it didn\u2019t\nmean that he was ready to quit. There were new fields to conquer. How\nabout flying the Atlantic? He\u2019d always wanted to fly the Atlantic.\nAnything that was all adventure appealed to him. So when they hoisted\nanchor at Spitzbergen after the flight across the Pole Byrd said to his\ncompanion Bennett, \u2018Now we can fly the Atlantic.\u2019\n\u201cThe plan to fly the ocean had its origin in the same motives that the\nNorth Pole flight had. Byrd wanted to make America aviation conscious;\nand he wanted to make American aviators conscious of the benefits of\ncareful planning. Dozens of lives had been lost in unsuccessful\ntrans-oceanic flights\u2014the lives of young men full of the love of\nadventure, who made hasty plans, or no plans at all for spanning the\nocean\u2014who had no qualifications except a great ambition to see them\nthrough the great grind that was before them. Byrd wanted to show all\nfool-hardy young flyers that care, care, and more care was needed in\ntheir preparations. He had to prove to the United States, too, that if\ncare were exercised in these flights, they were not necessarily\ndangerous. All this Byrd had to prove. And in the meantime he\u2019d have the\ntime of his life, steeped in the adventurous sort of work that he\ncraved.\n\u201cSo Byrd and Bennett started their plans. The first step, of course, was\nthe choosing of the plane. Opinion was in favor of a single-motored\nplane for a cross-Atlantic flight, since a single-motored plane would\nhave a greater cruising range; offer less resistance in the air; and be\nless complicated to handle than a multi-motored craft. But Byrd held out\nfor the tri-motor, the same type of plane as the Josephine Ford, which\nhad carried him over the Pole. There was this to say for it: if one\nmotor stopped, the other two would still function; and it might be the\nsolution to the problem of what kind of plane would cross the Atlantic\nin the future, when planes ran on regular schedule. They wanted a bigger\nplane than the Josephine Ford, though. So they had one designed with a\nwing spread of 71 feet, which meant that they got an increased lifting\npower of about 3,000 pounds. That enabled them to take along about 800\npounds of equipment above what they actually needed, to show that a pay\nload could be carted across the water in a plane.\n\u201cThey needed plenty of equipment, though. There was a special radio set,\nrockets to shoot off as signals if anything went wrong; two rubber boats\nfor the crew; and emergency food and equipment of all sorts for forced\nlandings; and even a special apparatus for making drinking water out of\nsalt water so that they would not go thirsty. In fact, they could have\nsurvived for three weeks in case of an accident. They? Why, Byrd decided\nthat besides himself and Bennett, they would take along passengers, also\nto prove something\u2014this time that passengers could be carried across to\nEurope by plane.\n\u201cThey successfully petitioned the Weather Bureau to make predictions for\nthe trans-Atlantic flights, and for the first time in history regular\nweather maps for aviation were made of the North Atlantic.\n\u201cAt the end of April, in 1927, the plane was ready for its factory test.\nByrd planned to make his flight in May, which he figured was a good\nmonth. It happened that there were at the time several other planes\npreparing to cross the ocean. Byrd was in no race, however. Of course,\nit would have been nice to be the first man across the Atlantic, as he\nhad been the first man over the Pole\u2014but he encouraged the others who\nwere preparing and made no effort to be the first to start. However, his\nplane was ready before the others.\n\u201cByrd, Bennett, Noville, who was going with them, and Fokker took her up\nfor her first flight. Fokker was at the controls; the other three,\npassengers. Everything went smoothly. She took off well; her motors\nfunctioned perfectly. But as soon as the motors were turned off for the\nglide, they felt her nose dip. She was nose-heavy. When they tried to\nland, they knew definitely that she was nose-heavy, and zoomed into the\nair again to plan what they should do. However, they couldn\u2019t stay up\nindefinitely\u2014they hadn\u2019t much fuel. Down they glided again. The wheels\ntouched the ground. Fokker jumped. But the other three were caught.\n\u201cByrd felt the fuselage heave up. The plane went over on her nose,\nturned completely over. Something struck him with an awful impact, and\nhe felt his arm snap. They had to get out of this! They were trapped in\na mass of wreckage which might at any moment burst into flames and burn\nthem to death before they had a chance to escape. Noville, beside Byrd,\nbroke a hole in the fabric with his fist, and they crawled out. The\nwreckage did not burn. Someone had turned off the switches of all three\nmotors.\n\u201cBennett? He was hanging head down in the pilot\u2019s seat, unable to free\nhimself. His leg was broken; his face bleeding. He was badly injured\u2014so\nbadly that for a week it was thought that he would never recover. But he\ndid\u2014of course. His iron nerve and grit pulled him through. But any\nthought of his going on the trip was out. This was a blow to Byrd. There\nwas no man he would rather fly with than Bennett, Floyd Bennett, the\ncheerful companion, the willing worker, himself an expert pilot, and\nable to divine instructions before they were even given. Tough luck!\n\u201cBut tough luck, too, was the fact that the plane was almost irreparably\ndamaged. Byrd set his arm on the way to the hospital, had them put it in\na sling so that it would be out of the way, and went back to the factory\nto supervise the repairing of the America. It took over a month of work\nnight and day to repair the damage that had been done, and re-design the\nnose so that the craft would be balanced.\n\u201cMay 21st was set for the christening of the plane. The christening-was\nchanged into a celebration of the successful flight of Lindbergh.\nBennett was pleased with Lindy\u2019s achievement, since Lindy had proved the\nvery things that Byrd himself had set out to prove\u2014that with careful\npreparation, the ocean could be spanned; and that a successful ocean\nflight would stir the imaginations of the people, making them more\nconscious of aviation and its strivings. Then, too, Lindbergh cemented\nrelationships between France and the United States, which was one of\nByrd\u2019s purposes in flying to France instead of to England, or any other\ncountry.\n\u201cWell, after the ocean had been crossed, there was no need for hurry.\nNot that Byrd had been in a rush; but there was a great deal of\ncriticism concerning the delay of his trip. Nobody knows how these\nthings start, or why. It seems that it should have been Byrd\u2019s, and\nByrd\u2019s business alone, as to when he chose to cross the ocean. After\nall, it was his life being risked, and his glory if the flight were\nsuccessful. But a great many people in the United States felt that there\nmust be some ulterior motive in his not starting immediately; and that\nhe had been bested by a mere boy when he let Lindbergh be the first man\nto conquer the ocean.\n\u201cBut Byrd didn\u2019t care. He knew what he was about. He was a southern\ngentleman, and he said nothing to his defamers. And he went on\ncompleting his preparations. Chamberlin, with his passenger Levine,\nbroke the world\u2019s record for flying to Germany, in a remarkable flight.\nByrd hailed their success.\n\u201cThen at last, on June 29th, early in the morning the weather man\nreported that weather conditions, while not ideal, were favorable. Dick\nByrd decided to delay no longer. He called together his crew, and met\nthem on the field at 3:00 o\u2019clock in the morning. It was a miserable\nmorning, and a light rain was falling. By the light of torches the crew\nwas putting the finishing touches on the huge\u2019 America. There she was,\natop the hill that they had built for her, so that she would get a good\nfast start. And a good fast start she needed, all 15,000 pounds of her.\nThink of the speed they had to get up in order to lift that bulk from\nthe ground! They\u2019d have to be going a mile and a half a minute!\n\u201cBert Acosta was at the wheel; Noville, recovered from his serious\ninjuries in the trial crash, sat with his hand on the dump valve, by\nmeans of which he could dump a load of gasoline if they didn\u2019t rise into\nthe air; Bert Balchen, the young Norwegian relief pilot and mechanic,\nwas busy with the spare fuel.\n\u201cThe engines were warmed up. The great ship was ready\u2014no, not quite\nready. But she was eager to be off. The America broke the rope that held\nher, and glided down the hill on which she had been held. It was a tense\nmoment. Would they be able to get this great hulk into the air? Along\nthe ground she sped, gathering momentum. Her wheels lifted. There was a\nshout. She had cleared the ground. But the danger was not over. They\nmust fly to at least 400 feet. Then the America showed her metal. She\nclimbed on a turn, and they were flying at an altitude of 400 feet. They\nwere off!\n\u201cOn they sped to their destination at last. The wind was behind them,\nhelping them; the weather was disagreeable, and slightly foggy, but this\ndid not bother them. They reached Nova Scotia easily. But when they got\nthere they got a horrible shock. They had run into a fog. But what a\nfog! One so thick that they couldn\u2019t see the land or ocean under them.\nAnd they flew for 2,000 miles like this, absolutely blind, with black\ntowering clouds ahead of them, below them, and when they ran through\nthem, all around them.\n\u201cThe strain was terrible. In addition, Byrd calculated that they had\nused more fuel than he had expected, because of climbing so high to get\nover the clouds, and they might not have enough to take them to Europe.\nBut they did not want to turn back. They would take their chance.\nBalchen and Acosta piloted with great skill, and Byrd took his turn at\nthe wheel while they slept. The wind was with them, and they made\nexcellent speed. Radio messages came to them clearly. They judged their\nposition, and their gas supply, and found that they had underestimated\ntheir remaining gas. They could get to Rome.\n\u201cOn the afternoon of the second day they came out of the thick fog, and\nsaw the welcome water beneath them. They were bound for France, and they\nhit the coastline at Finisterre. They headed for Paris. Then they\nradioed ahead for the weather report. Fog! Fog and storm, with its\ncenter at Paris. This was the worst thing that could possibly have\nhappened to them, this arriving at their destination in a fog. But they\nwent on. It would be a triumph, and an addition to aviation knowledge if\nthey could land in a storm, after coming all the way from America.\n\u201cThey figured finally that they must be almost over Paris. But suddenly\nthe fog below them was pierced by a queer light. It was the revolving\nsignal of a lighthouse! Their compass had gone back on them, and they\nhad made a circle, coming out not at Paris, but back to the coast of\nFrance.\n\u201cThey turned around, after adjusting their compasses, and made once more\nfor Paris by dead reckoning. They were above Le Bourget. But what could\nthey do? They could see nothing below them, only an inky blackness that\nnothing could penetrate. Landing would have meant not only death to\nthemselves, but perhaps to many people who had gathered to watch their\ntriumphal landing. Their gas was getting low. Byrd saw only one\nsolution. They turned and flew once more back to the coast. They were\nheading for the lighthouse that they had come upon accidentally before.\nThey flew very low, over the sleeping towns and villages that they knew\nwere below them, but which were shrouded in pitch blackness. A revolving\nlight pierced the blackness, and they were at the seacoast. But over the\nwater it was just as inky black as over the land.\n\u201cBalchen was at the wheel. Byrd gave the signal to land. They threw over\na line of flares that gave them some idea as to where to land, then\ndescended. The force of their impact with the water sheared off the\nlanding gear. The plane sank to the wings in the water, and the fuselage\nfilled rapidly.\n\u201cByrd was thrown into the water. He swam to the plane. Noville was\nclimbing out. The other two were nowhere to be seen. Byrd called to\nthem. He swam over to the plane, which was almost submerged. Balchen was\ncaught in the wreckage, but managed to extricate himself. Then Acosta\nswam up from nowhere. His collar bone was broken. But a hasty survey\nassured Byrd that the others were all right. Almost exhausted, they got\nout the collapsible boat, blew it up, and paddled to shore. It was a\nmile to the village, and they trudged wearily on.\n\u201cThey certainly did not look like a triumphal parade when they got to\nthe village, four tired, wet, dirty men, who looked more like tramps\nthan aviators. They tried to arouse the villagers, but they could not. A\nsmall boy riding by became frightened when they spoke to him, and\nscooted away. Finally they approached the lighthouse, aroused the\nlighthouse keeper and his wife, and made them understand what had\nhappened.\n\u201cFrom then on, all was beer and skittles. There wasn\u2019t enough that the\nvillagers could do for the Americans who had landed so unceremoniously\nin their midst\u2014or practically in their midst. They rescued the plane,\nand the mail that was in it.\n\u201cParis was next, and the real triumphal parade started then. The flyers\nwere almost overwhelmed with the wonderful greeting that the Parisians\ngave them. It was worth all of the hours of agony that they had gone\nthrough. They had accomplished what they had set out to accomplish,\nafter all.\n\u201cThen America. Once more the American people welcomed Dick Byrd back as\nthe hero of the moment. He had excited interest in aviation; he had\nproved many valuable scientific facts; he had proved a hero under trying\ncircumstances; he had added to the friendly feeling felt by the French\nfor the American people; in fact, he had done all things except one. He\nhad not extinguished his spirit of adventure.\n\u201cNo sooner was Admiral Byrd back from his trip across the Atlantic when\nhe was planning another voyage, this time reflecting again the boyish\ndreams of his early youth. He planned to go to the South Pole to make\ncertain scientific studies, and to fly across the Pole when he was\nthere.\n\u201cVery carefully he began to plan. He first obtained his ships. The\n_Larsen_ and the _Sir James Clark Ross_ were to be used as supply ships.\n_The City of New York_, once an ice breaker, was to be his chief ship,\nand the _Eleanor Bolling_, named in honor of his mother, was to be the\nchief supply ship. He took, too, four planes, three for observation\nflights, and the huge three-motored Fokker, the _Floyd Bennett_. Every\ndivision of the expedition was equipped with radio sets. Every division\nof the expedition was further so equipped that in case of accident, or\nin case it should be separated from any other unit, it could rescue\nitself.\n\u201cAmong the preparations was the purchase of about a hundred eskimo dogs,\nwhich were to be used in the arctic. Ships, planes, cameras, radios,\nfootgear, and a thousand other details Byrd had to plan carefully.\nAlmost a million dollars had been spent before the ships even left New\nYork.\n\u201cIn the midst of the preparations Admiral Byrd received a terrible blow.\nThis was the death of Floyd Bennett, that someone has already told\nabout. Bennett flew to the aid of Major Fitzmaurice, Captain Koebl and\nBaron von Huenefeld, who had been forced down in the Gulf of St.\nLawrence, during the first east to west crossing of the Atlantic. At\nMurray Bay, Quebec, he developed influenza, which turned into pneumonia.\nHe died in Quebec. Colonel Lindbergh rushed to Quebec with serum to save\nhis life, but it was of no use. Floyd Bennett, whom everybody loved, and\none of the greatest pilots of his day, had flown his last flight.\n\u201cIt meant a loss to all aviation, but to Dick Byrd especially, since the\ntwo men had been close friends. There was no man with whom Byrd would\nrather have flown over the South Pole, as he had flown over the North.\nIn memory of his friend, Byrd named the plane with which he was to fly\nover the Pole the _Floyd Bennett_.\n\u201cPreparations had to go on. It came time to choose the crew and staff\nwhich was to go with Byrd, to be gone for such a long time in the arctic\nwastes. The prospect does not seem inviting\u2014the leaving of comfortable\nhomes, of families, in order to spend a year in the coldest climate that\nwill sustain life. But so great is the spirit of adventure in man that\n15,000 people volunteered to go on the expedition. The men who were\nfinally chosen were picked men\u2014all physically in perfect health, and\nmentally alert. True, some of them shipped in positions in which they\nhad had no training, but Admiral Byrd could safely say that he had made\na mistake in no case. Every man that he chose proved himself worthy of\nthe choice.\n\u201cFinally all was ready. On August 26, 1928, the _City of New York_\nstarted out. _The Eleanor Bolling_, a steamship, started later, as did\nthe supply ship, the _Larsen_. _The City of New York_, a sail boat, got\nto New Zealand about the middle of November, the last to arrive. The\n_Larsen\u2019s_ cargo was shifted to the other ships. On December 2, the\n_Eleanor Bolling_ and the _City of New York_ sailed for the ice pack. In\nabout two weeks it came into sight. Then the latter ship took over the\nformer\u2019s cargo, and while the sail boat sailed back for New Zealand, the\nsteamer went on to penetrate the ice pack and steam at last into the\nRoss Sea.\n\u201cThe ship and its precious cargo went on to the ice barrier, and it was\non the ice barrier that Little America, the base of the expedition, that\nwas to be the home of Byrd and his men for a rigorous year and a half,\nwas built.\n\u201cThe village they built was complete in every detail. As soon as they\nlanded, the men started in with the building program. There were three\nclusters of buildings set in a circle about a thousand feet around.\nThese included the Administration Building, containing living quarters,\ndispensary and radio reception room, a meteorological shelter, etc. Then\nthere was the general dormitory, and the observation igloo. Other\nbuildings included the store houses and medical supply store-house; a\nMess Hall, which was reached by a tunnel, and contained the dining room,\nand more living quarters.\n\u201cThe community was a comfortable one. There was plenty of work, of\ncourse, but there was time for leisure, too, and the men could listen to\nthe radio, play with the dogs, read one of the books of the large\nlibrary; play cards, in fact, do any one of a number of things. The food\nwas good. Dried vegetables and fruits had been taken down in quantities.\nThere was plenty of meat, both smoked, and fresh killed seal meat. They\nhad electric light, and plenty of heat to keep them warm. In fact, the\nlife was pleasant if anything.\n\u201cOf course, the most significant part of the whole expedition was Byrd\u2019s\nflight over the Pole. As in the other flights, the building of the\nrunway was the greatest task, and one of the most important. It took the\nwhole crew of 60 men to keep the runway in condition. On January 6th,\nthe Commander made his first flight in Antarctica, making many\nphotographs from his plane. After that, many trips were taken, new land\ndiscovered, and scientific observations made.\n\u201cThe long night set in, and meant less activity, but in the Spring the\nsun rose once more, and activity broke out with renewed vigor,\nespecially around the planes. Men had been sent ahead to cache food for\nemergency, in case of a forced landing of the _Floyd Bennett_. Byrd,\nHarold June, Bernt Balchen and Ashley McKinley were to make the flight.\nEverything was at last ready, and they were waiting only for favorable\nweather conditions in order to start.\n\u201cOn November 27, this was in 1929, came a weather report that satisfied\nByrd, no fog, and plenty of sun. The next day was bright and fair. The\nplane was given a final overhauling. It was carefully warmed; the oil\nwas heated and poured in. Into the cabin went the dogs, and the dog\nsledge, the food and other supplies that the men would have to use in\ncase of a forced landing. Into the plane, too, went Ashley McKinley\u2019s\ncamera, which was to take records of the crossing of the Pole.\n\u201cFinally Byrd gave the signal. _The Floyd Bennett_ was rolled out of its\nhangar to the runway. Balchen was to pilot first. He opened the throttle\nof all three motors. There was a roar, and they were on their way.\n\u201cAway they flew, into the cloudless sky. June and Balchen piloted, Byrd\nnavigated. They flew high, and in spite of their load of 12,000 pounds,\nalmost as much as they had had on the _America_, they attained an\naltitude of some 10,000 feet. This was necessary in order to clear the\nhighest of the glaciers. On flew the _Floyd Bennett_, gayly as a bird.\n\u201cThe craft had left Little America just before three o\u2019clock in the\nafternoon. In ten hours she had covered 700 miles. Then suddenly they\nwere over the Pole. They circled around in a great circle, whose center\nwas the South Pole, and then turned back. At a little after ten the next\nmorning they sped wearily into camp at Little America. In nineteen hours\nthey had been to the South Pole and back, and Dick Byrd, even though he\ncouldn\u2019t have been the first man at the North and South Poles,\nnevertheless found himself the only man in the world who had flown over\nboth the North and South Poles.\n\u201cThere was a let-down in the community\u2019s enthusiasm. The great task had\nbeen accomplished. They awaited the City of New York which was to come\nto take them home. Preparations were made for the homeward journey. It\nwas with joyous cries that the steamer City of New York was greeted, and\nwith pleasure that the men left Little America for New Zealand. By April\nthey had left hospitable New Zealand behind, too, and had started for\nthe United States.\n\u201cOnce more his countrymen turned out to honor Byrd. Dick Byrd was now\nRear-Admiral Byrd, but the same Dick Byrd as he had always been before.\nThere were banquets, and medals, and many honors heaped upon him. All\nover the world movies which had been taken of the expedition were shown\nto entranced millions. Everybody shared in the work, the good times, the\nadventures of that group of men.\n\u201cAnd here was little Richard Evelyn Byrd, who had been the undersized,\ndelicate boy, with a will of iron, and a spirit for adventure, the\nleader of it all, the prime force behind the whole expedition. He\naccomplished all that he sat out to accomplish, and more. The scientific\ndata that he collected proved valuable; and interest in aviation was\nbeyond a doubt stimulated. And that\u2019s that. How\u2019s that for a little\nfellow with a bum ankle? Pretty good, eh?\u201d\nNobody answered the Captain at first. There seemed no answer. Each of\nthem was busy with his own thoughts. Or her own thoughts, because the\nfeminine minds in that gathering were working very fast.\n\u201cWell,\u201d said Mrs. Martin at last, \u201cI am usually the last person to point\na moral, but I do think that there\u2019s a moral in that story.\u201d She saw her\nopportunity at last. \u201cI think that Dick Byrd\u2019s parents were responsible\nfor the boy\u2019s success. If they had squelched his adventurous spirit at\nthe beginning, he would probably never have got any place.\u201d\nMrs. Gregg smiled to herself in the darkness. \u201cDo you believe in young\nboys going off by themselves, Mrs. Martin?\u201d\n\u201cIt teaches them self-reliance,\u201d said Mrs. Martin firmly.\n\u201cDo you think that they ought to fly planes by themselves?\u201d\n\u201cAnd why not? After all, there isn\u2019t very much to flying a plane, if you\nkeep your wits about you. And I\u2019m sure that both of our boys have their\nwits about them. I think that the earlier you learn a thing, the better\nit is for you. It makes everything else easier, too.\u201d\nThere was a silence for a while. Then Mrs. Gregg said, with a laugh in\nher voice, \u201cI think that I\u2019m being worked upon. First by the Captain\nwith his story, and then by you. I\u2019m afraid I have no defense.\u201d She\nturned to Hal, who had not spoken at all, but who had been thinking a\ngreat deal during the story of Byrd, and the obstacles that he had\novercome. \u201cWell, Hal,\u201d she said, \u201cwhat do you think? Shall we yield to\nthese people? Shall the Greggs yield to the Martins?\u201d\nHal had not seen his mother so light-hearted and gay for a long time.\nThe pleasant evening and the story had had a decided effect upon her.\nHal didn\u2019t know exactly what to say, But his mother went on, \u201cI think\nwe\u2019re beaten, Hal. Do you want to go to the mountains with your\nfriends?\u201d Nobody there knew the effort that that sentence cost Mrs.\nGregg, but she had said it, and she stood committed.\nHal was at a still greater loss as what to reply. His heart was beating\nwildly. There was nothing that he desired more now than to go to the\nmountains, but he felt the effort that his mother had put behind her\nwords. Should he go? He wanted to. He wanted to show them that he wasn\u2019t\nafraid. And he wouldn\u2019t be afraid, either. Not any more. Other people,\nlittle fellows, too, had done things, had gone places, and they weren\u2019t\nafraid. So Hal said, \u201cWell, I\u2019d like to.\u201d\n\u201cIf you wish to, you may,\u201d said Mrs. Gregg.\nBob, who had listened breathlessly to this conversation, could restrain\nhimself no longer. \u201cWhoopee!\u201d he yelled. \u201cHal\u2019s coming along! Hal\u2019s\ncoming along!\u201d He jumped up and started to execute a war dance, dragging\nHal after him.\nCaptain Bill was pleased. His story had made a hit\u2014more of a hit than he\nhad even hoped for.\nCHAPTER IX\u2014Four Women Flyers\nMrs. Martin, too, was pleased. She had gained her point, and now had\nanother surprise for the company. \u201cDid it ever occur to you that there\nare famous flyers who aren\u2019t men? It\u2019s just like you to neglect the\nwomen altogether.\u201d\n\u201cAw,\u201d said Bob, \u201cwe can\u2019t go telling stories about women. We\u2019re sticking\nto men.\u201d\n\u201cIt seems to me that the women oughtn\u2019t to be neglected,\u201d said his\nmother. \u201cAfter all, when we women do things, we like to be recognized.\u201d\nThe Captain broke in, then. \u201cWell, how about some of the women? he\nasked. Of course, being a woman yourself, you can\u2019t enter our\nstory-telling contest, but you can amuse us from a purely amateur love\nof getting in your feminine licks.\u201d\nMrs. Martin smiled in the dark. \u201cYou think that I won\u2019t,\u201d she said. \u201cBut\nI will. I\u2019ve been doing reading of my own, you know.\u201d\n\u201cTell away, Mater,\u201d said Bob. \u201cYou\u2019re better than any of us.\u201d\nMrs. Martin began her story. \u201cThere are four women who stand head and\nshoulders above the rest in the United States,\u201d she said, \u201cwhen it comes\nto flying. They are that oddly-assorted group\u2014tall, slender, boyish\nAmelia Earhart, who\u2019s Amelia Earhart Putnam, now; little Elinor Smith,\nwho doesn\u2019t weigh much over a hundred pounds: medium-sized, gracious and\ncharming Ruth Nichols, who belongs to the Junior League; and short,\nsturdy, daring Laura Ingalls.\n\u201cAmelia is probably the first lady of the land, or I should say, first\nlady of the air in the United States now, since her solo trans-Atlantic\nflight on May 20, 1932. It was fitting that she should make her flight\non the fifth anniversary of Lindbergh\u2019s flight to Europe, because she\u2019s\nalways been called the Lady Lindy. She looks like him, you know\u2014long,\nlean, blonde, with a shock of unruly curly hair, and a shy, contagious\nsmile. She has even his modest nature, and the ability to win the hearts\nof everybody with whom she comes in contact.\n\u201cThe solo flight wasn\u2019t Amelia Earhart\u2019s first trip across the ocean by\nplane. You remember her first flight, when she went as a passenger on\nthe Stultz-Gordon flight in 1928. She\u2019s the first person now who has\never crossed the ocean twice through the air. Amelia is a real\npioneer\u2014she must have adventure and excitement in life\u2014that\u2019s why she\ngave up social service work, and made flying her profession. It wasn\u2019t\neasy for her to learn to fly\u2014she just had evenings and Sundays to get in\nher practice flights, but she stuck to it, and finally had a sufficient\nnumber of hours in the air to get her pilot\u2019s license. Of course, she is\ninterested in the progress of aviation. Everybody who flies has this\ninterest at heart\u2014but the love of adventure is uppermost in her mind\nwhen she makes her record flights.\n\u201cIt was that that sent her across the Atlantic, through storms and sleet\nand fog, with no thought of turning back, in spite of decided defects in\nher motor that threatened to land her in the middle of the ocean and\nsend her to certain death.\n\u201cThere wasn\u2019t much publicity before her flight. Since it was going to be\nfor her own satisfaction, she wanted to keep it to herself. She took off\nquietly from Harbor Grace, Newfoundland. The weather was fairly good,\nbut when she got out a few hours, she met with the same terrifying\nflying conditions that her solo predecessor, Lindbergh, had. Fog\nenveloped her plane. She could not see in front of her, or to either\nside. Ice formed on the wings of her plane, and threatened to break them\noff. Gradually the temperature rose, and the ice melted. But new dangers\nthreatened. A weld in the exhaust manifold broke, and the manifold\nvibrated badly; leaks sprang in the reserve gas tanks in the cockpit,\nand then\u2014the altimeter broke.\n\u201cNow the altimeter, as I suppose you all know, records the altitude at\nwhich the plane is flying. Amelia Earhart had never flown without one,\nand now she realized the hazards of not knowing how high she was flying\nthrough the fog. Sometimes she would drop so low that she came suddenly\nout of the fog, but so close to the water she could see the white caps\non the surface.\n\u201cThe girl realized that she must make a landing as soon as possible, and\nthat was when she reached Culmore, Ireland, a tiny place five miles from\nLondonderry. She landed in a field, scaring a team of plow horses, who\nhad never before seen a woman landing after a trans-Atlantic flight. She\nwent by automobile to Londonderry, and there received the rousing\nwelcome that was due her.\n\u201cEurope entertained her royally. She was awarded the Distinguished\nFlying Cross; she was received by the Prince of Wales; she was partied\nand banqueted. And through it all she kept her poise, and modestly\naccepted the acclaim that was showered upon her. She was the first woman\nto fly solo across the Atlantic, but not only that, she had set a new\nspeed record for the North Atlantic Ocean, flying a distance of 2,026\nmiles in about thirteen and a half hours. She had at the same time\nbroken Ruth Nichols\u2019 long distance record for women, which had been set\nat 1,977 miles from Oakland, California, to Louisville, Kentucky.\n\u201cRuth Nichols has a habit of setting records. She started to fly at\nabout the same time that Amelia Earhart started, and has kept nip and\ntuck with her, except for the fact that proposed plans of hers to fly\nthe Atlantic have not as yet been carried out. She was graduated from\nWellesley College, and was a member of the Junior League, which rates\nher pretty high in the social scale, but her overwhelming desire for\nadventure and pioneering, led her, as it led Amelia Earhart, to choose\naviation as her profession. Ruth Nichols held the long distance record\nfor women until it was broken by Amelia Earhart. She holds the altitude\nrecord for women, though, and broke the altitude record for Diesel\nengines in 1932, at a height of over 21,000 feet.\n\u201cElinor Smith was, in a way of speaking, born in an airplane cockpit.\nHer father was a pilot; Elinor made her first flight as a passenger at\nthe age of eight; took over the controls at twelve; and made her first\nsolo flight at fifteen. She was so small that her head did not reach\nover the top of the cockpit, and the other pilots called her \u2018the\nheadless pilot.\u2019 It was a funny sight to see a plane land gracefully on\na field apparently with no one to guide it. Then out would pop Elinor, a\ngrimy little girl, covered with grease from the motor, and with a\ncheerful grin on her impish face. It was Elinor, who at seventeen, set\nthe women\u2019s solo endurance record by staying in the air alone for 26\nhours and 21 minutes. Elinor should do great things in aviation. She\nknows her planes inside and out; she\u2019s had the opportunity such as no\nother woman has had, to learn the technicalities of aviation when she\nwas young that she absorbed them as part of herself. Elinor Smith is one\nof the most popular women in aviation now.\n\u201cLaura Ingalls is the stunt flyer of the women. She came out of the\nmiddle-west, from Missouri. She took to music and dancing first to\nexpress her restless spirit, and then found that it was flying that\nwould express her best. So she went to a government-approved school, and\nbecame an expert, daring flyer. She is the holder of the record for\nloop-the-loops for women, and of the barrel roll record for both men and\nwomen. She is interested in the progress of aviation, but gets a great\nthrill out of merely flying for its own sake.\u201d\nMrs. Martin paused. \u201cI guess that gives you an idea,\u201d she said, \u201cwhat\nwomen are doing nowadays.\u201d\n\u201cWomen have always done the great things in aviation,\u201d said Mrs. Gregg.\n\u201cThey stay home and wait while the men are risking their lives. Waiting\nis harder than doing.\n\u201cWomen haven\u2019t a monopoly on that,\u201d said Bob. \u201cWhat about Mr. Putnam,\nwho waited at home while his wife flew the ocean?\u201d\nEverybody laughed. \u201cYou\u2019re right, Bob,\u201d said Mrs. Gregg. Then she added,\n\u201cIt\u2019s getting pretty late. How about our going, Hal?\u201d\nThe two of them cut across the garden to their home.\nCHAPTER X\u2014Hawks and Doolittle\nThe next day was spent in a pleasantly muddled state, getting Hal ready\nto go with them, and putting the finishing touches to their own\nequipment. Stout boots, fishing lines, flies, everything on their lists\nwas gradually being checked off. Late in the afternoon they had a\nbreathing space, and Bob remembered that it was Pat\u2019s turn to tell his\nstory.\n\u201cCome on, Pat, you might as well get it over with,\u201d said Bob. \u201cWe\nhaven\u2019t anything else to do, anyway.\u201d\n\u201cYou\u2019re mighty impudent for a young one, Bob, my lad,\u201d said Pat. \u201cJust\nbecause you\u2019ve made a solo flight doesn\u2019t mean that you\u2019re wings are dry\nyet. You might know that any story I\u2019d tell would be good.\u201d\n\u201cOh, Patrick, you\u2019ll have to prove that,\u201d said the Captain. \u201cI\u2019ve heard\nsome pretty awful ones from you. Haven\u2019t I?\u201d\n\u201cIt must have been two other fellows,\u201d said Pat. \u201cBut I\u2019ll begin. And I\nwon\u2019t take so long, either. I\u2019m not one of these long winded story\ntellers,\u201d he said significantly.\n\u201cGet on, get on.\u201d This from Captain Bill.\n\u201cMy two boys are the speedy two, all right,\u201d began Pat. \u201cSpeed was their\nmiddle name. Their real names were\u2014well, you probably have guessed. It\u2019s\nnot a secret\u2014Frank Hawks and Jimmie Doolittle. Beg pardon, maybe I had\nbetter say Lieutenant Commander Frank Hawks of the United States Naval\nReserve, the holder of some 30 inter-city aviation records, etcetera,\netcetera; and maybe it would be more proper to talk about James\nDoolittle, M.S.; D.A.E.. But what\u2019s the use of the titles? They\u2019re just\nFrank and Jimmie, two of the squarest shooters in the game.\n\u201cFrank was born, of all places for a flyer to be born, in Marshalltown,\nIowa, on March 28, 1897. Iowa\u2019s flat, you know. Wouldn\u2019t think that\nthere\u2019d be much inspiration for flying out there. But maybe all that\nflat prairie was just so much inspiration to get away from it all, and\nget up into the air. Anyway, young Frank put plenty of grey hairs in his\nmother\u2019s head with his love for climbing. Just crazy about high places.\nAlways up a tree, so to speak.\n\u201cLittle Frank was mighty pretty, I guess. Maybe he wouldn\u2019t like my\nsaying it, but he must have been a smart kid, too. At a very tender age,\nmy lads, our friend Frank Hawks was playing children\u2019s parts in\nMinneapolis. But then the family moved to California\u2014maybe to live down\nthe scandal of a performing son, and Frank got serious, being mightly\nbusy just going to high school.\n\u201cMaybe it was fate, but something happened that changed Frank Hawks\u2019\nideas about what he wanted to be when he grew up. The Christofferson\nbrothers, who were pretty great shakes in those days, and pioneers in\nflying, set up a shop on the beach outside Frank\u2019s home town. They took\nup passengers. But they charged plenty for it, and Frank, while he hung\naround a lot, never had the money to go up, although he was mighty\nanxious to fly.\n\u201cFinally he got an idea. If he couldn\u2019t get up in the usual way, he\u2019d\nfind a way he could go up. So young Frank got himself a pencil, a\nnotebook, and a mighty important look, and approached one of the\nChristoffersons. \u2018I'm from the newspaper, Mr. Christofferson,\u2019 he says,\n\u2018and I\u2019d like an interview with you.\u2019 And he interviewed him just as\nserious as you please, with Christofferson pleased as could be, thinking\nof the publicity and the new passengers he\u2019d get. Then young Frank asked\nif he couldn\u2019t go up, in order to write his impressions of an airplane\nride. Of course, of course.\n\u201cSo Frank Hawks got his first ride in an airplane, and decided on his\nfuture career. Aviation got a recruit and Christofferson waited a long\ntime for his interview to appear. In fact, he waited indefinitely.\n\u201cThe problem for Frank then was to get another ride. He finally went to\nthe flyer, and told him what he had done. He was forgiven, and worked\nout his passage for that ride and other rides by working around the\nflying field. It was then he learned to fly. But business was not too\ngood, and the brothers moved on. Frank Hawks went on with his high\nschool work, and was graduated in 1916. Thought he ought to have more\nbook learning, so he went on to the University of California.\n\u201cBut the war stopped that. When he was twenty, Hawks joined the army,\nthe Flying Corps. He was too good, though. Too good for his own good.\nThey never sent him to France, where he wanted to go. Instead, they made\nhim an instructor, so that he could teach green recruits how to fly. At\nthe end of the war he was discharged, with the title of Captain.\n\u201cThe five years after that were hectic ones. Aviation was still\nnew\u2014interest in it had been stirred up by war flying, and all sorts of\nmen, young, old, every kind, bought up old planes from the government\nand went barnstorming around the country, taking people up on flights,\nstunting, flying in air circuses, balloon jumping, and doing anything\nthey could to make money with their tubs. Some of these planes were no\nmore than old junk, and the flyers no more than the rankest amateurs.\nBut there were some of them who were good, and one of these was Hawks.\nHe went dizzily stunting around the country, until\u2019 he got himself the\nreputation of being just plain crazy, but a great flyer.\n\u201cThere were ups and downs, to be sure. And I don\u2019t mean to be funny,\neither, my lads. The people in the United States were getting just a\nlittle weary of going up in airplanes just for the fun of the thing\u2014they\nwere getting too common. But\u2014there were people down in Mexico who had\nnever seen a plane, much less flown in one, so down to Mexico went\nHawks. He gave. Mexico plenty of thrills, and Mexico gave him some, too.\nThe country was unsettled at the time, upset with revolutions. Hawks got\na job flying a diplomat from Mexico City to his ranch, because they\u2019d be\nsafer in the air than going by automobile through the mountains. Hawks\neven tried ranching for a while, but it didn\u2019t work.\n\u201cHe decided to go back to the United States, and when he went back he\nmarried Edith Bowie, who hailed from Texas. Down in Texas Hawks flew\nover the cotton fields with arsenic to kill the boll weevils. He worked\nin the oil fields, too, as a driller. It was good experience for him.\nThey found out that he could fly, and he got a job piloting officials of\nthe oil company from place to place in the oil country. They found that\nthey were saving time and money.\n\u201cAt this time Lindy flew over the Atlantic. Hawks bought the Spirit of\nSan Diego, which was the sister ship to the Spirit of St. Louis, and\nflew across the country to greet Lindbergh when he came back. He flew\n4,000 miles on a National tour with the Spirit of San Diego, and then\n7,000 miles criss-cross.\n\u201cLuck was with him. He was going to reap his just rewards. He became a\nmember of one of the country\u2019s richest oil companies, as their technical\nflying expert. He advised them in buying planes, and chose their pilots\nfor them, and in addition, had to sell flying to the country.\n\u201cAnd maybe he didn\u2019t set out in earnest to make the country sit up and\ntake notice then! There was a Wasp-motored Lockheed Air Express\nmonoplane at the manufacturers\u2019 in Los Angeles, and it had to be flown\nto New York. Hawks got the bright idea that he could fly it across the\ncountry without a stop. And he did.\n\u201cIt was his first cross-country flight, and his hardest. In the first\nplace, it was February, and the weather was pretty bad for flying\u2014so\nuncertain that they couldn\u2019t predict what he\u2019d run into. But he decided\nto take his chance. This was in 1929. Of course, its being 1929 didn\u2019t\nmake it any harder, but I just thought I ought to tell you what year it\nwas. The start from Los Angeles wasn\u2019t bad. He had a mechanic with him\nto keep filling the gasoline engines, a fellow by the name of Oscar\nGrubb. They hadn\u2019t flown for very long when they ran into a fog. Hawks\nthought he\u2019d try flying below the ceiling\u2014but he ran into a snow storm.\nThen he tried climbing above it. He couldn\u2019t get over it.\n\u201cAnd in the midst of all this terrible strain of flying through fog so\nthick that he couldn\u2019t see the nose of his plane, the engine began to\nmiss. The tank was empty. He switched on the other tank. It was empty,\ntoo. Why hadn\u2019t Oscar warned him that the fuel supply was out? What had\nhappened to it? Hawks looked back. There was Oscar, sprawled out, fast\nasleep. But he woke up. Pretty lucky for Oscar Grubb that he did, and\ntypical Hawks luck. The tanks were filled, and on they flew through the\nmurk and fog. The fog cleared a little when they got to Kentucky, but\nHawks didn\u2019t know where he was, anyway. It wasn\u2019t until they got to\nWashington that he recognized his position, by the Capitol dome. From\nthere he sped to New York, where everybody was glad to see him. No\nwonder. This speedy gentleman had made the trip in 18 hours, 21 minutes,\nbreaking all speed records then existing for non-stop cross country\nflight.\n\u201cIt got to be a habit, this record-breaking. His next venture was New\nYork to Los Angeles and back. He left Roosevelt field at 8 o\u2019clock in\nthe morning, and was in Los Angeles in the evening. Seven hours later he\nturned back and in 17\u00bd hours more he was back again at Roosevelt field.\nIt was dark coming down, and he broke a wing, but he escaped unhurt.\nHe\u2019d broken the east-west, west-east, and round trip records, all of\nthem, making the round trip in 36 hours and 48 some minutes.\n\u201cHawks never let people forget him for long. He was out to sell speed to\nthe country, and he knew that the way to do it was by speeding. In July\neverybody began to hear about the \u2018mystery ship\u2019 that was being built\nfor him. It was a monoplane. On August 6th, it was a mystery no longer.\nHawks was going to race with the sun. The sun had always beaten him so\nfar, and he wanted a return match, for revenge.\n\u201cSo he lifted his monoplane into the air in New York, just as the sun\nwas rising, at about 6 in the morning. He flew right with that sun and\ngot into Los Angeles before it had set, or just about 10 minutes before\n6 o\u2019clock in the evening. He\u2019d beaten dat ol\u2019 davil sun, all right. One\nweek later, and he was on his way back across the continent again, and\ngot to New York in less than 12\u00bd hours.\n\u201cWell, he\u2019d proved how quickly you could get across the United States in\nan ordinary plane. Then he showed how you could cross with a glider,\ntowed by an engined plane. Why, you ask. Well, in the first place, it\nattracted attention to gliders. And gliders are important in aviation.\nAnd then, if towed gliders are practical, they might solve the problem\nof carrying pay loads in cross-country flights. The glider could be\nloaded up, hitched to an airplane, and go from New York to any point\nwest. That was the idea. Well, Hawks did attract attention. It took him\nsix and a half days to get from San Diego to New York, stopping off at a\nlot of cities, and just generally bumming around the country.\n\u201cIn 1930 about the only spectacular flight that Frank Hawks made was the\ntour with Will Rogers, when they flew around the country seeking help\nfor the drought victims. They covered 57 cities in 17 days, which meant\na lot of work, because they put on a show wherever they stopped. Hawks,\nwith his stage experience behind him, fitted in perfectly with the plan.\nHe not only could fly, but he developed a patter, modeled after Will\nRogers\u2019 and came out chewing gum and swinging a lariat.\n\u201cIn 1931, having about exhausted record-breaking in the United States,\nour friend Mr. Hawks left these shores, and went off to Europe to sell\nspeed and airplanes to that continent. No sooner had he landed than he\nstarted to break their records, too. The first one to fall was the speed\nrecord from London to Berlin, a distance, of 600 miles, which he made in\n2 hours and 57 minutes. This was just about half the time that the\nregular passenger planes take. He had a light tail wind behind him, to\nhelp him, and a bad fog over the channel to hinder him. He flew the\nwhole distance by compass.\n\u201cAbout a week later the United States again heard from Frank Hawks. They\nheard that he\u2019d dined in three European capitals on the same day. Left\nBourget before breakfast, had breakfast in London, kippers, I suppose,\nor kidneys, at the Croydon Field. That was about 9:30. He left Croydon\nfor Berlin, and got there 3 hours and 20 minutes later, in time for\nlunch at the Tempelhof Airdrome. He flew back to Paris, for tea at Le\nBourget, and then motored into the city for a good dinner. The dinner he\ndidn\u2019t pay for. It was on some friends who had bet him that he couldn\u2019t\nmake it. He did. Don\u2019t bet against Frank Hawks. It isn\u2019t good business.\n\u201cThe next month, on June 17, Frank felt hungry again, and maybe tired of\nthe food he\u2019d been getting, anyway. So he got into his plane, at London,\njust after breakfast; had luncheon in Rome, and got back in time for tea\nin London. He\u2019d made the round trip in 9 hours and 44 minutes, actual\nflying time. Of course, a man has to take time out to eat. Getting to\nRome and back meant that he\u2019d beaten the Alps twice. He enjoyed that\ntrip. He\u2019d had a head wind with him all the way, and was pretty glad\nabout beating the Alps. They look less mighty and dangerous when you\u2019re\nlooking down at them from a safe plane, in the cleat sunshine. Almost\ngentle.\n\u201cSpeedy Hawks decided to come back to America. But he didn\u2019t come back\nto rest. He went right on breaking records, and making up new ones to be\nbroken. In January of 1932 he flew from Agua Caliente to Vancouver,\nBritish Columbia, in 13 hours and 44 minutes. That was called his famous\nthree-flag flight. It was a grand flight, too, and the first of its kind\nto be flown in one day. It wasn\u2019t non-stop; he\u2019d stopped at Oakland,\nCalifornia and Portland, Oregon, both on the way up and the way back,\nfor fuel. The trip was about 2,600 miles long, and he\u2019d averaged about\n180 miles per hour.\n\u201cHawks is certainly accomplishing what he set out to do. He\u2019s never had\nto bail out, and he\u2019s never had a serious accident. He was pretty well\nbanged up when he didn\u2019t clear the ground and crashed into some wires\nearly in 1932, but he pulled out of that all right. Flying fast was no\nmore dangerous than flying slowly, if a man could handle his plane. What\nthe country needed was speed and more speed, and Hawks gave it to them.\nIt helped, too. The whole commercial system in the United States has\nspeeded up. Two hours have been cut off the transcontinental trip, and\nmore will undoubtedly be cut off. In June of \u201932 Hawks was made\nLieutenant Commander Hawks. And it\u2019s no more than he deserves. He\u2019s a\ngreat lad.\n\u201cAnd so is Jimmie Doolittle. There\u2019s some say that Jimmie is the\ngreatest flyer of them all, but he says he isn\u2019t. I don\u2019t know whether\nwe should take his word for it or not. He may be prejudiced. Anyway,\nhe\u2019s one of the best liked flyers in the country. James Doolittle is a\nlittle fellow. That is, he\u2019s short. Just 5 feet 2, but every inch a\nscrapper, and every inch nerve.\n\u201cAnybody who talks about Doolittle likes to tell the story of the time\nhe went down to Chile for the Curtiss Company to demonstrate a new type\nof flying plane to the government. The Chilean government was pretty\nparticular. It wanted only the best, so it decided to have five\ncountries compete in a mock fight, England, France, Germany, Italy and\nthe United States, and the plane that won the battle would be the one\nbought for the Chilean army.\n\u201cWell, Curtiss asked the Army Air Service if they could borrow the\nArmy\u2019s crack test pilot, Jimmie, and the Army lent him. Doolittle went\ndown there all set to win. But there was a party for the aviators before\nthe battle, and the aviators, all being young, and good fellows, got\nvery jolly, and decided that each of them would have to put on a stunt\nto entertain the others. Now Doolittle decided that his best bet was\nacrobatics, so he balanced on the window ledge, to show his best\nhandstands and other tricks that he\u2019d learned in college. A brace or\nsomething on the window gave way, and down went James into the street,\nlanded on both feet, and broke both ankles. Just before the big show!\nWell, they took him to the hospital and put both ankles in a plaster\ncast.\n\u201cThe show went on, and the hero wasn\u2019t there. But was he resting\npeacefully at the hospital? He was not. With the help of a friend, he\ncut off the plaster cast, had himself hoisted into an ambulance, and\ntaken to the field. When he got there, they strapped his feet to the\nrudder bar, and he was all set to go into his act. Only the German plane\nwas in the air. Doolittle zoomed up, and there followed one of the\nprettiest dog fights that anyone there had ever seen. Doolittle\nmaneuvered and bedeviled that German plane until it turned tail and\nretired. James circled around once or twice to show that he was cock of\nthe walk, and then came down to get the Chilean contract for the Curtiss\npeople. That\u2019s the way James Doolittle does things.\n\u201cHow did he get so scrappy? Well, he was a born fighter. And then, he\ngrew up in a gold camp in the Klondike, and if there was any place\nharder than a gold camp in Alaska in those days, it would be hard to\nfind. Jimmie was born in Alameda. California, in 1896. His father was a\ncarpenter and miner, and left for the Klondike in \u201997, the year before\nthe big rush to Dawson in \u201998. Well, two years later he sent for his\nwife and the boy James.\n\u201cJimmie\u2019s first scrap was with an Eskimo child. He drew blood, and was\nso frightened that he cried as loudly as the Eskimo warrior. But he\nnever stopped fighting after that first fight. Maybe it was because he\nwas so small that he had to fight. Anyway, he usually was fighting boys\nbigger than himself, and he got so good that he\u2019d whip them to a frazzle\nevery time. It gets to be a habit, you know, and any way, he was born\nscrappy. Ask anyone.\n\u201cThe Doolittles left the Klondike, and moved back to California with\ntheir obstreperous son, and I imagine the Klondike parents breathed a\nlittle easier. In California Jimmie went to school, and on the side\nbecame Amateur Bantamweight Champion of the Pacific Coast.\n\u201cWhen he\u2019d been graduated from High School Jimmie went on to the\nUniversity of California, same college that Hawks had attended. He went\non fighting, still in the bantamweight class. But one day down in the\ngymnasium, the boxing coach put him in the ring with a middleweight for\nsome practice. Jimmie knocked him out. And he knocked out the second\nmiddleweight, and the third middleweight. So the coach, seeing that he\nhad struck gold, entered Jimmie in the match with Stanford, but in the\nmiddleweight class. The crowd roared when they saw the little bantam\ngetting into the ring with a pretty husky middle. The middleweight\nthought that it was a joke on him, and was careful not to hit hard. But\nhe needn\u2019t have been so kind. Jimmy Doolittle retaliated by knocking him\nstiff and cold in a few minutes.\n\u201cJimmie didn\u2019t graduate. In 1917 he married Jo, and settled down to\nserious things, such as going out to Nevada and becoming a gold miner,\nand later a mining engineer. I might say a word about Jim and Jo.\nThey\u2019re known as the inseparables. They\u2019re always together. They\u2019ve got\ntwo kids, who are thirteen and eleven years old, and who can fly in\ntheir daddy\u2019s footsteps. The family leads a gypsy life, flying from one\narmy field to another, but they have a great time.\n\u201cWell, I\u2019m getting ahead of my story. Let\u2019s get back to the War. Because\nthe war broke out then, you know, and Jimmie joined the air service. His\nfirst lesson, they turned him over to an instructor by the name of Todd.\nThey were still on the ground, when they heard a crash, then another\ncrash. Two planes had collided in the air. First one dropped, then the\nother, close to Jimmie\u2019s plane. One of the pilots was killed; the other\npilot and his passenger were badly hurt. Doolittle helped them out, and\nwent back for his first lesson.\n\u201cJimmie, like Hawks, was just too good. They didn\u2019t send him to France\nat all, but made him an instructor at Rockwell Field, San Diego, where\nhe became known as one of the star aviators in the air service. He was\npretty angry when he found that he couldn\u2019t go to France. He went out to\nrelieve his feelings. He picked out an innocent soldier walking down the\nroad, and made for him. He didn\u2019t have any grudge against that soldier,\njust against the world. But that soldier had to bear the brunt. Jimmie\nswooped down on him. The soldier wouldn\u2019t move out of the way or flatten\nout. Jimmie swooped closer and closer. The soldier stood his ground.\nFinally Jimmy came so close that his wheels nicked the soldier, and down\nhe went. And away flew Jimmie, but so low that he couldn\u2019t rise again in\ntime to clear a barbed wire fence at the side of the road. He got caught\nin the fence and smashed up. They gave him a month in the barracks to\nthink over how smart-aleck he\u2019d been, and then Jimmie was out again. The\nsoldier had a bump on the head to remind him that he\u2019d been in the way\nwhen Jimmie Doolittle was mad.\n\u201cJimmie had other crashes. One was just before he made his famous flight\nin 1922 across country from Pablo Beach to San Diego. On his first\nattempt at a take-off one of his wheels struck some soft sand, and over\nhe turned, being thrown into the water, plane and all. His second\ntake-off was more successful\u2014in fact, it was perfect. He got to San\nDiego in 22\u00bd hours.\n\u201cJimmie\u2019s greatest achievements have been in testing and experimenting.\nAfter the war he went to the Army technical school at Dayton. He got an\nhonorary degree from the University of California, and then he went to\nBoston with Jo, and entered the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.\nWith Jo\u2019s help he did four years\u2019 work in three, and got the degrees of\nMaster of Science, and Doctor of Aviation Engineering\u2014the first flyer to\nget the D.A.E. degree there.\n\u201cHe resigned from the army to join the Shell Petroleum Corporation,\nCurtiss borrowed him again, though, and he went to Europe to demonstrate\nspeed planes for Curtiss to 21 European governments. He\u2019s a marvellous\ntester. He got the D.F.C. for his transcontinental flight. In 1925 he\ngot the Schneider Cup in the International races, and in 1929 the medal\nof the Federale Aeronautique Internationale for his outstanding\nachievements in aviation.\n\u201cI haven\u2019t told you the most outstanding, feats, Doolittle was one of\nthe pioneers in blind flying. He experimented for the Guggenheim\nFoundation, testing instruments to be used for blind flying. He also\ntested the stress and strain that flying has on the human body. He would\ngo into right spirals, risking his life, in order to see under what\npressure a man becomes unconscious. It\u2019s a dangerous business, but great\nfor aviation.\n\u201cIn September, 1931, Doolittle won the air derby, flying from Los\nAngeles to New York to establish a new transcontinental West to East\nrecord on 11 hours and 15 minutes. He won at the same time the Los\nAngeles-Cleveland Bendix trophy when he crossed the finish line of the\nNational Air Races at the Cleveland airport. His time to Cleveland was 9\nhours and 10 minutes, an average speed of 223 miles per hour. As if that\nwasn\u2019t enough, he flew back to St. Louis to sleep, making a trip of\n3,300 miles in 19 hours. He\u2019d broken Hawks\u2019 record then standing. Both\nthe boys are still going strong. You never knew when you\u2019re going to\nwake up and find that one of them has flown across the country so fast\nthat he ended up right where he started from, only two hours earlier.\nBut now I\u2019m getting fantastic,\u201d said Pat. \u201cI must be getting tired, and\nno wonder. It\u2019s time we were getting to bed, if we want to leave at any\nhour tomorrow.\u201d\nCHAPTER XI\u2014Hal Comes Through\nThe day of their departure dawned bright and clear. There was a high\nceiling, the air was crisp and cool, with a fresh wind blowing. The boys\ncould hardly control themselves in their impatience to be off. Bob\u2019s\nparents and Mrs. Gregg drove down to the airport with them to see them\noff. In spite of the excitement of the boys, there was an undercurrent\nof restraint in the group. Nobody talked very much except Bob and Hal,\nwho never stopped talking.\nThe cabin plane had been taken out and warmed up by the mechanics of the\nport. It looked sleek and beautiful in the early morning light. Pat was\ngoing to fly her. He walked over to the Administration Building to make\nfinal arrangements with their friend Mr. Headlund. He took a short cut\nacross the field. The port wasn\u2019t very busy. But there was some\nactivity\u2014activity that Pat, intent upon his business, did not notice. A\nstudent pilot, taxiing his plane across the field for his first solo\nflight, was coming straight toward him. Pat did not notice the student,\nthe student was too rattled to see him.\nBob was the first to notice what was happening. \u201cLook put!\u201d he screamed.\n\u201cPat, look out!\u201d\nThe student pilot suddenly saw Pat. He veered his plane, but a corner of\nthe wing just grazed Pat\u2019s head, and knocked him flat. He was already\ngetting to his feet when the others got to him.\n\u201cAre you hurt, old fellow?\u201d\nPat was rubbing his head. \u201cNo, I don\u2019t think so. That is, no, I\u2019m not at\nall. Just nicked me. I\u2019ll be all right in a second.\u201d He shook his head\nto clear it. \u201cGave me a bit of a bump. I\u2019ll be all right.\u201d\nThe student pilot, white and shaking, came over to them. \u201cHurt badly?\u201d\nhe asked anxiously.\nPat laughed. \u201cNo such luck, lad. You missed me that time. Better luck\nnext time. You might try picking on somebody who\u2019s not so tough, next\ntime.\u201d\nPat was himself again, and the others, thankful that he had not been\nseriously hurt, watched him go into the Administration Building. When he\ncame out, Bill asked. \u201cDo you want me to pilot?\u201d\nPat looked scornful. \u201cSince when did a little bump on the head put me\nout of commission? I\u2019m driving the bus.\u201d\nAll the baggage stowed away, the boys, the Captain and Pat got into the\nplane. They waved good bye to the others outside, the huge craft taxied\nover the field, turned into the wind and rose into the air. It was\npleasant being off at last. There was the grand trip before them, and\nthen the vacation itself, fishing, swimming, shooting. Hank had filled\ntheir heads full of the glories of his private mountain, as he called\nit. The cabin with its huge open fireplace built of stones, the bunks in\ntwo tiers like the berths on a pullman. Bob and Hal had already decided\nthat they would have to take turns sleeping in the upper one, because\nsurely the upper one would be the most fun.\nTheir thoughts kept returning to the cold mountain streams filled to the\nbrim with scrappy fish, and the waterfall that Hank said he used as an\noutdoor shower. A whole month of it! The boys could hardly sit still on\nthe leather cushions.\n\u201cWant something to eat?\u201d said Bill.\n\u201cOf course,\u201d they said, almost together.\nBill reached for the lunch hamper. Then something seemed to go wrong.\nThe plane lurched. But they hadn\u2019t struck an air pocket. It\u2019s nose fell,\nand the three were almost thrown into a heap, one atop the other. The\nplane was going into a spin! Beyond the glass partition, Pat lay slumped\nover his wheel.\nSomething had to be done at once. And it was Hal who did it. He pushed\nopen the glass partition, and got somehow to the pilot\u2019s seat. With all\nhis strength, and his excitement gave him a strength that he had never\nbefore possessed, he pulled Pat out of his seat, and pushed him through\nthe door, where the Captain and Bob were waiting to take him. Hal\nslipped behind the wheel, and neutralized all controls.\nThank God, they had been flying at a high altitude. The spin wasn\u2019t a\ntight one, but a loose one. Hal pushed her nose down. That was what Pat\nhad told him, wasn\u2019t it? Don\u2019t try to pull her nose up. Push it down,\nand she\u2019d come out of it and go into a glide. At first nothing happened.\nHal was trembling, not so much with fear as with exaltation. He felt the\ngreat ship respond. They were coming out of it! They were gliding\nswiftly down to earth. He had her perfectly under control. Slowly he\npulled her up, then, and they were flying quietly and steadily with the\nhorizon again.\nThe Captain was at the door behind him. \u201cYou\u2019re great, Hal, you\u2019re\ngreat. You had more guts than any of us. I knew you had it in you, and\nyou\u2019ve showed us, Hal.\u201d\nHal was happier than he had ever been in his life. He felt that he was\nmaster of the world now. He\u2019d saved his pals, and now he would never\nhave to be afraid of anything again. \u201cHow\u2019s Pat?\u201d he asked.\n\u201cWe\u2019re turning around. He hasn\u2019t come to,\u201d said the Captain. \u201cI\u2019m afraid\nhe was hurt more badly than he thought.\u201d\nHal banked and turned. It was good to feel the ship respond to him,\ndipping one huge wing slowly, and turning about gracefully in a great\ncircle. If not for Pat, his happiness would have been complete.\nThey got Pat to the hospital, where it was found that the nasty crack on\nthe skull had given him a slight concussion. But you couldn\u2019t keep Pat\ndown. It merely meant postponing that trip, not cancelling it.\nHal was the hero of the day. The newspapers, who got the story at the\nairport, hounded him until he conquered his shyness, just to get rid of\nthem. They made the most of the story, and Hal was almost afraid to\nleave the house, for fear some of his friends would meet him in the\nstreet, because Hal was still the same modest retiring soul that he had\nbeen.\nBut he did leave the house to go down to the hospital to see Pat, along\nwith Bob and Captain Bill. Pat was sitting outside in a wheelchair when\nthey came, and they sat down on the grass beside him, and talked about\ntheir postponed trip.\n\u201cDo you know,\u201d said Captain Bill, \u201cwhen we come back from our trip,\nthere\u2019s something that\u2019s going to keep me busy.\u201d\n\u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d asked Bob.\n\u201cI\u2019m going to collect all of those stories we told into a book. What do\nyou think of that for an idea?\u201d\n\u201cGreat!\u201d said Bob. \u201cAll of our stories? Mine, too?\u201d\n\u201cSure, all of them.\u201d\n\u201cBut Hal won\u2019t have a story. He hasn\u2019t told one,\u201d said Bob.\n\u201cHal\u2019s going to be the hero,\u201d said the Captain.\nTHE END\nEnd of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Famous Flyers, by J. J. Grayson\n*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FAMOUS FLYERS ***\n***** This file should be named 34593-0.txt or 34593-0.zip *****\nThis and all associated files of various formats will be found in:\nProduced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed\nUpdated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions\nwill be renamed.\nCreating the works from public domain print editions means that no\none owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation\n(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without\npermission and without paying copyright royalties.  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{"title": "Another Singing time; songs for nursery & school", "creator": ["Coleman, Satis N. (Satis Narrona), 1878-1961", "Thorn, Alice Green, 1890- [from old catalog] joint author", "Carroll, Ruth, 1899- illus"], "subject": "Children's songs", "publisher": "New York, Reynal & Hitchcock", "date": "1937", "language": "eng", "page-progression": "lr", "sponsor": "Sloan Foundation", "contributor": "The Library of Congress", "scanningcenter": "capitolhill", "mediatype": "texts", "collection": ["library_of_congress", "americana"], "call_number": "8773345", "identifier-bib": "00003265936", "updatedate": "2009-11-13 18:12:55", "updater": "scanner-harold-moreno@archive.org", "identifier": "anothersingingti00cole", "uploader": "scanner-harold-moreno@archive.org", "addeddate": "2009-11-13 18:12:57", "publicdate": "2009-11-13 18:13:03", "ppi": "300", "camera": "Canon 5D", "operator": "scanner-annie-coates-@archive.org", "scanner": "scribe6.capitolhill.archive.org", "scandate": "20091203184848", "imagecount": "88", "foldoutcount": "0", "identifier-access": "http://www.archive.org/details/anothersingingti00cole", "identifier-ark": "ark:/13960/t3320j77c", "notes": "This book does not have page numbers.", "curation": "[curator]stacey@archive.org[/curator][date]20091204223631[/date][state]approved[/state]", "sponsordate": "20091231", "repub_state": "4", "possible-copyright-status": "The Library of Congress is unaware of any copyright restrictions for this item.", "backup_location": "ia903604_12", "openlibrary_edition": "OL14587923M", "openlibrary_work": "OL7450195W", "external-identifier": "urn:oclc:record:1040018691", "lccn": "37027456", "filesxml": "Wed Dec 23 6:16:43 UTC 2020", "description": "p. cm", "associated-names": "Thorn, Alice Green, 1890- [from old catalog] joint author; Carroll, Ruth, 1899- illus", "ocr_module_version": "0.0.21", "ocr_converted": "abbyy-to-hocr 1.1.37", "page_number_confidence": "0", "page_number_module_version": "1.0.3", "creation_year": 1937, "content": "Heap on more wood! The wind is chill; but let it whistle as it will. We'll keep our Christmas merry still. Each age has deemed the new-born year The fittest time for festal cheer. And well our Christian sires of old Loved when the year its course had rolled. And brought blithe Christmas back again. With all his hospitable train. Domestic and religious rite Gave honor to the holy night: On Christmas eve the bells were rung; On Christmas eve the mass was sung; That only night, in all the year,\nThe stole priest raised the chalice rear. The damsel donned her kirtle sheen. The hall was dressed with holly green. Forth to the wood did merry-men go. To satter in the mistletoe.\n\nThen opened wide the baron's hall To vassal, tenant, serf, and all; Power laid his rod of rule aside, And Ceremony doffed his pride. The heir, with roses in his shoes, That night might village partner choose; The lord, undergoing, share The vulgar game of \"post and pair.\" All hailed, with uncontrolled delight. And general voice, the happy night. That to the cottage, as the crown, Brought tidings of salvation down. The fire, with well-dried logs supplied. Went roaring up the chimney wide; The huge hall table's oaken lace Scrubbed till it shone the day to grace, Bore then upon its massive board.\nNo mark to part the squire and lord. Then was brought in the lusty brawn, By old blue-coated serving-man; Then the grim boar's-head frowned on high, Crested with bays and rosemary. Well can the green-garbed ranger tell, How, when, and where, the monster fell; What dogs before his death he tore. And all the baiting of the boar. The wassail round in good brown bowls, Tarnished with ribbons, blithely trowels. There the huge sirloin reeked; hard by Plum-porridge stood, and Christmas pie. CHRISTMAS IN THE OLDEN TIME. Nor failed old Scotland to produce, At such high tide, her savory goose. Then came the merry masquers in, And carols roared with blithesome din; If unmelodious was the song, It was a hearty note, and strong. Who lists may in their mumming see, Traces of ancient mystery; White shirts supplied the masquerade,\nAnd  smutted  cheeks  the  visors  made  ; \nBut,  oh  !     what  masquers  richly  dight \nCan  boast  of  bosoms  half  so  light! \nEngland  was  merry  England,  when \nOld  Christmas  brought  his  sports  again. \n'Twas  Christmas  broached  the  mightiest  ale, \n'Twas  Christmas  told  the  merriest  tale  ; \nA  Christmas  gambol  oft  could   cheer \nThe  poor  man's  heart  through  half  the  year. \nARTISTS \nEdmund   IT.  Garrett,  Henry   Sandham, \nHarry  Fenn,  Chii.de   Hassam, \nJ.  Steeple   Davis,  H.  P.  Barnes, \nGeorge  A.  Teel. \nIllustrated,  Engraved,  and  Printed  under  the  supervision  of \nGeorge  T.  Andrew. \nlit  let  it  ^/hi'^tl  X/i'll, \nII   Keel?    ouv  ((Jori' \n<till \nthe  \"nefr-born  ye.^r \n(f^be/ltte^t  time  for \n-pi  X ell  o\\Jr>  \\J)r)$l\\&jn  ^ire\u00a7 \nof  oli \n/oVe<i,  Other)  tfye  ye&_r \nOTneot'iC'    ajnc^religioi/c \nvite. \nw \nft \nt])e  bell j  were. \nr^ttg   ; \nTot  i  ^trnoa^    6V^ \nwoe,    nxo^  vVa.5 \nth \no&    tWgtolecJ. \nrea,r \nhe    d^iDQel  donned   *\u25ba- \n[kirtle gere, -- wtgiad, didore go, o gA\"Uer to Tyingtleioe. Open. Xide the, zkJj jmjw, -Aft doffed ljisfri Ac, wmtc, W, llle heir, With ^ej \"h^t \"fright tnidibt Village, Si, e loTci,vna.groghl\\r), he wlg^ gecm of Wt-na bMn, mmMbBt^BtI iPihIF^, i^n I ySkfyy, BBB^BMI^BBPBBBI Elf VvJB, \"L'J' ' ' ffTOffij^w^iw *f^i/, Bw j t j \"MBB ' , [\u202211 lo^ile/d.,'0^itl) br>, Vi) e fiV e>,OGitV), \\X/e dp i ei, Wing \\;)Ab^, crvbtaecl till it cloche, \"iliecl^y to grace, jsibflft, jfKw, her) \\X/^ brought ir)~Uo&, jRy ^U M-, ae>\\/'nog-w6,rD -, ii e giro b^<xr^be<d, preled OOitb b^/5, Tagger \"tell, rjpV , %en, ^nci Ml ere, .tjcI ^ir er>\"t Trvygiei^y, M, ted]\n\nkirtle gere -- wtgiad didore go to Tyingtleioe. Open. Xide the, zkJj jmjw -Aft doffed ljisfri Ac, wmtc, W, llle heir With ^ej \"h^t \"fright tnidibt Village, Si, e loTci,vna.groghl), he wlg^ gecm of Wt-na bMn, mmMbBt^BtI iPihIF^, i^n I ySkfyy, BBB^BMI^BBPBBBI Elf VvJB, \"L'J' ' ' ffTOffij^w^iw *f^i/, Bw j t j \"MBB ' [\u202211 lo^ile/d.,'0^itl) br> Vi e fiV e>,OGitV), \\X/e dp i ei, Wing \\;)Ab^ crvbtaecl till it cloche, \"iliecl^y to grace, jsibflft, jfKw, her \\X/^ brought ir)~Uo&, jRy ^U M-, ae>\\/'nog-w6,rD - ii e giro b^<xr^be<d, preled OOitb b^/5, Tagger \"tell rjpV %en ^nci Ml ere .tjcI ^ir er>\"t Trvygiei^y, M ted.\nj&ut.oh!  ^bad-m^s^uer^  ricblydight \nXhcn \niotw^  brought, \n-m^  broach  cp-^hz- \nTn  ightic\u00a7t  <$J<, \n(f  hvK\"tm^  A^do)  ojt  ceo  Id  cn^er \nor  in  boiQ  to  e^rt  through \nW2S \nC,iT>. \n.V^v ", "source_dataset": "Internet_Archive", "source_dataset_detailed": "Internet_Archive_LibOfCong"},
{"language": "eng", "scanningcenter": "capitolhill", "sponsor": "The Library of Congress", "contributor": "The Library of Congress", "date": "1937", "subject": ["Bible. New Testament -- Theology", "Eschatology -- Biblical teaching", "Preaching -- History -- Early church, ca. 30-600"], "title": "The apostolic preaching and its developments,three lectures,", "creator": "Dodd, C. H. (Charles Harold), 1884-1973", "lccn": "38009576", "collection": ["library_of_congress", "fedlink", "americana"], "shiptracking": "ST011238", "partner_shiptracking": "IAGC155", "call_number": "3108896", "identifier_bib": "00131336780", "lc_call_number": "BS2545.E7 D6 1937", "possible-copyright-status": "The Library of Congress is unaware of any copyright restrictions for this item.", "note": "If you have a question or comment about this digitized item from the collections of the Library of Congress, please use the Library of Congress \u201cAsk a Librarian\u201d form: <a href=\"https://www.loc.gov/rr/askalib/ask-internetarchive.html\">https://www.loc.gov/rr/askalib/ask-internetarchive.html</a>", "publisher": "Chicago, New York, Willett, Clark & company", "description": ["x p., 1 l., 167 p. 20 cm", "The primitive preaching.--The Gospels.--Paul and John.--Appendix: Eschatology and history"], "mediatype": "texts", "repub_state": "19", "page-progression": "lr", "publicdate": "2019-07-23 11:40:11", "updatedate": "2019-07-23 12:36:07", "updater": "associate-richard-greydanus@archive.org", "identifier": "apostolicpreachi00dodd", "uploader": "associate-richard-greydanus@archive.org", "addeddate": "2019-07-23 12:36:09", "operator": "associate-annie-coates@archive.org", "tts_version": "2.1-final-2-gcbbe5f4", "camera": "Sony Alpha-A6300 (Control)", "scanner": "scribe1.capitolhill.archive.org", "imagecount": "190", "scandate": "20190725154309", "ppi": "300", "republisher_operator": "associate-cherrymay-villarente@archive.org", "republisher_date": "20190731135131", "republisher_time": "760", "foldoutcount": "0", "identifier-access": "http://archive.org/details/apostolicpreachi00dodd", "identifier-ark": "ark:/13960/t0bw58m3k", "scanfee": "300;10.7;214", "invoice": "36", "openlibrary_edition": "OL6368432M", "openlibrary_work": "OL6323193W", "curation": "[curator]admin-andrea-mills@archive.org[/curator][date]20191011182613[/date][state]approved[/state][comment]invoice201908[/comment]", "sponsordate": "20190831", "additional-copyright-note": "No known restrictions; no copyright renewal found.", "external-identifier": "urn:oclc:record:1156187456", "backup_location": "ia906907_32", "ocr_module_version": "0.0.21", "ocr_converted": "abbyy-to-hocr 1.1.37", "page_number_confidence": "95", "page_number_module_version": "1.0.3", "creation_year": 1937, "content": "[The Apostolic Preaching and Its Developments by C. H. Dodd, Norris-Hulse Professor of Divinity in the University of Cambridge. Published in Great Britain by Hodder and Stoughton, Ltd. Copyright 1937 by Willett, Clark & Company, Chicago, New York.\n\nContents\n\nLecture I\nThe Primitive Preaching\n\nLecture II\nThe Gospels\n\nLecture III\nPaul and John\n\nAppendix\nEschatology and History]\nIt has been the aim of criticism for the last hundred years to distinguish the manifold varieties in New Testament thought. We have learned to recognize that there is no such thing as \u201cNew Testament theology.\u201d Each of the writers has his own theology. He interprets the faith from his own point of view, according to his own insight and experience. This knowledge we have gained of the breadth and freedom of New Testament religion has done more than anything else to liberate us from the rigid orthodoxy which burdened and too often stifled the Christian life of former generations. In our own time, however, the task of criticism is to discover the unity which underlies the diversity of New Testament thought. Those early teachers, however much they differed from one another, were inspired by a common faith.\nThey were conscious that they were working together in the same enterprise and proclaiming the same message. What was this message? The older inquiry, with its emphasis on differences, has broken up the New Testament into so many pieces that no one can say definitively what it contains. Christianity, as presented by its first apostles, appears to be nothing but a bundle of separate creeds, out of which everyone may select the one that suits him, unless he prefers to make a new creed altogether, which may still be covered by the vague term \u201cChristianity.\u201d If the New Testament is not to be emptied of all its authority, we need to ask ourselves what it ultimately teaches as the Christian message. In the present book, Professor Dodd makes a notable contribution toward answering this question. Not in any sentimental or theoretical way.\nbut by strictly critical methods, he sets himself to examine what Christianity meant, alike for Peter and Paul, for the Synoptic evangelists and for the profound theologian who gave us the Fourth Gospel. The theme of the book is thus a central one for our understanding not only of the New Testament but of the Christian religion; and it is handled with real insight and originality. Some of the author's views, as he would himself acknowledge, will need to be modified in the light of further inquiry. But most impartial readers will find themselves compelled to accept his main conclusions.\n\nThe publishers have done a real service in introducing the work of Professor Dodd to this country. He is admittedly one of the leaders in the younger school of theological studies in England. Fully in sympathy with the liberal movement.\nProfessor Dodd, in continental criticism, continues the English tradition of exact scholarship and balanced judgment. He realizes, as great English scholars have always done, that New Testament problems are not to be treated in a purely academic spirit. The New Testament is the book of our religion, and the effort to interpret it historically must go hand in hand with the quest for its permanent religious values. Professor Dodd has written more learned and elaborate books than this one, but perhaps none of greater vital interest, and which expounds more clearly the governing ideas in his New Testament work.\n\nIntroduction\n\nThe Primitive Preaching\n\n\"It pleased God,\" says Paul, \"by the foolishness of preaching to save those who believe\" (1 Corinthians 1:21).\nThe word here translated \"preaching\" is kerygma, which signifies not the action of the preacher but his \"message\" as we sometimes say. The New Testament writers draw a clear distinction between preaching and teaching. This distinction is preserved alike in Gospels, Acts, Epistles, and Apocalypse, and must be considered characteristic of early Christian usage in general. Teaching (didaskein) is in a large majority of cases ethical instruction. Occasionally, it seems to include what we should call apologetic, that is, the reasoned commendation of Christianity to persons interested but not yet convinced. Sometimes, especially in the Johannine writings.\nNine writings include the exposition of theological doctrine. Preaching, on the other hand, is the public proclamation of Christianity to the non-Christian world. The verb keryssein properly means \u201cto proclaim.\u201d A keryx may be a town crier, an auctioneer, a herald, or anyone who lifts up his voice and claims public attention for some definite thing he has to announce. Much of our preaching in church at the present day would not have been recognized by the early Christians as kerygma. It is teaching or exhortation (paraklesis), or it is what they called homilia, that is, the more or less informal discussion of various aspects of Christian life and thought, addressed to a congregation already established in the faith.\n\nReligious practice. It is didache, not kerygma. Therefore, it would be illegitimate to conclude that the church represented by\nThe Primitive Preaching 3\n\nThe verb \"to preach\" frequently has for its object \"the gospel.\" The connection of ideas is so close that keryssein by itself can be used as a virtual equivalent for evangelizesthai, \"to evangelize,\" or \"to preach the gospel.\" It would not be too much to say that wherever \"preaching\" is spoken of, it always carries with it the implication of \"good tidings\" proclaimed.\n\nFor the early church, to preach the gospel was by no means the same thing as to deliver moral instruction or exhortation. While the church was concerned to hand on the teaching of the Lord, it was not by this that it made converts. It was by kerygma, says Paul, not by moral instruction or exhortation.\nWe have to inquire how far it's possible to discover the actual content of the gospel preached by the apostles. First, we may place before us certain recurrent phrases indicating the subject of the preaching. In the Synoptic Gospels, we read of \"preaching the kingdom of God,\" whether the reference is to Jesus or his followers. In the Pauline epistles, we commonly read of \"preaching Christ.\" In the Acts of the Apostles, both forms of expression are used. The apostles preach \"Jesus\" or \"Christ,\" or they preach \"the kingdom of God.\" We may observe that in those parts of Acts where the writer speaks in the first person, Paul himself is represented as \"preaching the kingdom of God.\" Therefore, we may take it that a companion of the apostles preached both.\nPaul regarded his preaching as equally a proclamation of the kingdom of God, as was the preaching of the first disciples or their master, despite Paul not expressing it in those terms in the texts. The need for clarification is significant for understanding what the apostles actually preached. A closer examination of our documents is necessary.\n\nThe earliest Christian writer with extant works is the apostle Paul, and our investigation should begin with him. However, there are difficulties in discovering the apostolic preaching in Paul's epistles. In the first place, the epistles are not of the nature of kerygma. They are all addressed to readers who were already Christian, and they deal with theological and ethical problems arising.\nIn attempting to follow the Christian way of life and thought in a non-Christian world, early writers produced teachings or exhortations. These presuppose the preaching and expound and defend the implications of the gospel rather than proclaiming it. If we can infer from the epistles what Paul preached, it would initially be his \"gospel\" and not necessarily the gospel common to all or most early preachers. Paul, as we know, claimed a high degree of originality in his presentation of the gospel, and this claim is justified. However, it is not a hopeless task to discover in the Pauline epistles some indication of the character and content of Paul's preaching.\nPaul recognized a distinction between the fundamental content of the gospel and the teaching based upon it. In 1 Corinthians 1:23-24 and 2:6, he recalls preaching \"Christ crucified\" and expresses a desire to speak wisdom to mature persons. In 1 Corinthians 3:10-11, Paul distinguishes between the foundation he laid and the superstructure built upon it, likely referring to the development of the church's life in all its aspects. However, a study of the context reveals that what was most particularly on his mind was this distinction itself.\nThe distinction between the fundamental gospel and higher wisdom, not to be confused with the wisdom of men, can be imparted to those whose apprehension of the gospel is sufficiently firm. The foundation is Christ, or, we may say, the gospel of Christ and him crucified. Paul, Apollos, and others developed this fundamental gospel in various ways. The epistles primarily represent this development or superstructure. Paul was well aware that what gave authority to his teaching was the gospel that underlay it all. In 1 Cor. xv. 1-7, he cites in explicit terms what he had preached at Corinth: \"That Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures; and that he was buried; and that he rose again the third day according to the Scriptures; and that he appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve. After that, he appeared to more than five hundred brethren at once; of whom the greater part remain to the present, but some have fallen asleep. After that he appeared to James, then to all the apostles. Last of all, as to one untimely born, he appeared also to me.\"\nHe was seen by Cephas. \"It was thus,\" he emphasized, \"that we preached, and thus that you believed. He then went on to draw out certain implications of these fundamental beliefs, part of which he described as a 'mystery,' belonging to that 'wisdom' which should follow upon the apprehension of the preaching of 'Christ and him crucified.' Here, therefore, we seem to have, down to the very words which he quotes to ensure no misunderstanding, a part at least of what Paul was accustomed to preach as gospel: he proclaimed the facts that Christ died and rose again. As he put it in writing to the Galatians (iii. 1), Christ was 'openly set forth before their eyes as crucified.'\"\nThese facts are exhibited in a special light. They happened \"according to the Scriptures\" - a statement whose significance will become clearer presently. Further, Christ died \"for our sins.\" In other words, according to Galatians 1:4, \"He gave himself for us, to rescue us from the present evil age.\" As this statement occurs in the exordium of the epistle, where Paul may be supposed, according to his practice, to be recalling ideas familiar to his readers, we may take it that he spoke of the significance of Christ's death in similar terms when he preached in Galatia. The language implies the Jewish doctrine of the two ages, \"this age,\" and \"the age to come.\" The entrances of this age have been made narrow and painful, few and evil and full of dangers, and packed with great labors. For the entrances to this age.\nThe meaning of \"those spacious and secure places where the fruit of immortality grows\" (2 Esdras 7:1-3) refers to the greater age. Paul's idea is that through Christ's death and resurrection, the boundary between the two ages is crossed, and those who believe no longer belong to the present evil age but to the glorious age to come. In Romans 10:8-9, the content of \"the word of faith we preach\" is described as \"that Jesus is Lord and that God raised him from the dead.\" The proclamation of the resurrection is also a proclamation of Christ's lordship. It is in this sense that it is \"the gospel of the glory of Christ\" (2 Corinthians 4:4). According to Romans 14:9, the purpose of Christ's death and resurrection was the attainment of universal lordship.\nfor this that Christ died and came to life, that he might exercise lordship over dead and living alike. It is noteworthy that the passage just cited leads almost immediately to a reference to the judgment to come: \"We shall all stand before the tribunal of God\" (Rom. xiv. 10) \u2014 which is also, according to 2 Cor. v. 10, \"the tribunal of Christ.\" We might fairly have inferred that there was in Paul's mind a fixed association of ideas \u2014 resurrection, lordship, judgment \u2014 even if he had not explicitly stated that in his preaching of the gospel he proclaimed a \"day when God judges the secrets of men through Christ Jesus\" (Rom. ii. 16).\n\nThe kind of language he used in preaching judgment to come may be illustrated from 1 Cor. iv. 5: \"Judge nothing before the time, until the Lord comes, who will bring to light the things hidden in darkness and reveal the motives of men's hearts. Then each will receive their praise from God.\"\nThat darkness conceals and reveals the motives of hearts; then each person will receive his due praise from God (2 Cor. 5:10): \"We must all stand before the tribunal of Christ, that each may receive what is due him through his body, according to what he has done, whether good or evil.\" It is worth noting that in these passages, the fact of an upcoming judgment is referred to as a matter of faith. It is not something Paul argues for, but something from which he argues; something, therefore, which we may assume was a part of his fundamental teaching. Judgment is, for Paul, a function of the universal lordship of Christ, which was achieved through death and resurrection, and Christ's second advent as judge is a part of the kerygma \u2013 as judge, but also as savior.\nIn 1 Thessalonians 1:9-10, Paul summarizes the effect of his preaching in Salonica as follows: \"You turned from idols to serve the living and real God, and to await his Son from heaven, whom he raised from the dead \u2014 Jesus, who saves us from the coming retribution.\"\n\nThe Pauline kerygma is a proclamation of the facts of Christ's death and resurrection in an eschatological setting, which gives significance to these facts. They mark the transition from \"this evil age\" to the \"age to come.\" The \"age to come\" is the age of fulfillment. Therefore, the importance of the statement that Christ died and rose \"according to the Scriptures.\" Whatever events the Old Testament prophets may indicate as impending, these events are significant for them as elements in the coming of \"the day of the Lord.\" Thus, the fulfillment of these prophecies is crucial to the eschatological message of Paul's preaching.\nThe fulfillment of prophecy signifies that the day of the Lord has dawned: the age to come has begun. The death and resurrection of Christ are the crucial fulfillment of prophecy. Believers are already delivered out of this present evil age by them. The new age is here, in which Christ, by virtue of his death and resurrection, is Lord. He will come to exercise his lordship both as judge and as savior at the consumption of the age.\n\nWe must now ask how far this form of kerygma is distinctively Pauline and how far it provides valid evidence for the apostolic preaching in general.\n\nPaul himself at least believed that in essentials his gospel was that of the primitive apostles; for although in Galatians 1:11-18 he states with emphasis that he did not derive it from any human source,\nIn the same epistle (II. 2), Paul states that he presented \"the gospel which I preach\" to Peter, James, and John in Jerusalem, and they gave their approval. Furthermore, in the classic locus, 1 Corinthians xv. 1 ff., Paul explicitly declares that this gospel summary is what he had \"received as tradition.\" After referring to other witnesses to the facts, including Peter, James, and \"all the apostles,\" Paul adds with emphasis, \"Whether I or they, it was thus that we preached, and thus that you believed.\"\n\nRegarding the epistle to the Romans, it is important to recall that Paul was addressing a church that looked to other founders and one that he was eager to reconcile. Thus, wherever in that epistle Paul appeals to the data of the Christian faith, he is likely doing so.\nThe elements of the gospel recognized in Romans are not only parts of Paul's gospel but also parts of the common gospel. The opening verses of the epistle have a formulaic aspect that Paul's readers would recognize. They speak of \"the gospel of God, which he announced beforehand through his prophets in holy Scripture.\" This gospel concerns \"his Son, who was born of the seed of David according to the flesh, who was appointed Son of God with power according to the spirit of holiness from the resurrection of the dead \u2014 Jesus Christ our Lord.\" The language is unlike i4 THE APOSTOLIC PREACHING (if this is an unrelated text, disregard).\nThat in other places of Paul sets forth substantially the same idea of the resurrection - it signifies the attainment of Christ's lordship as Son of God with full powers. What is additional is the affirmation of Jesus' Davidic descent - a guarantee of his messianic status, which Paul does not seem particularly interested in but which he cites here as part of a recognized formula. I find it hard to believe that this Christological formula was coined by Paul himself. He accepts it as stating the common gospel which he and others preached. Again, in Rom. 8:31-34, the process of thought demands that readers accept as axiomatic the propositions that \"God did not spare his own Son, but delivered him up for us all,\" and \"it is Christ Jesus, who died, and more, who was raised, who is at the right hand of God.\"\nThe sense of a formula being cited, akin to 1 Cor. xv. 1 ff., is present in this text. The idea of lordship is expressed in the phrase \"at the right hand of God,\" which recurs in Col. iii. 1 and Eph. i. 20. This formula is deeply rooted in the kerygma and ultimately derived from Ps. cx. 1: \"The Lord said to my Lord, sit thou at my right hand, until I make thine enemies thy footstool.\" This text is cited in Mark xii. 36 (and Synoptic parallels), and wherever Christ is referred to as being at the right hand of God or hostile powers subjected to him, the ultimate reference is to this passage. In view of the place which Ps. cx. 1 holds.\nThe New Testament holds one of the fundamental texts of the primitive kerygma, which is the belief that we can safely attribute to it. Mark's statement that it was first cited by Jesus himself in his public teaching in the temple indicates the primitiveness of the use of the title \"Lord\" for Jesus. Since Bousset's work, Kyrios Christos, it has been widely held that this title was derived from Hellenistic usage and first applied to Jesus in the gentile church. This theory, however, is seldom based on solid grounds.\n\nThe emerging outlines of an apostolic gospel are seen in the epistles from the fifties of the first century, which Paul believed to be common to himself and other Christian missionaries. These epistles provide evidence of this.\nThe early kerygma held prime value for the content of Paul's epistles. This evidence is valid for a much earlier date than when the epistles were written. When did Paul receive the tradition of Christ's death and resurrection? His conversion can be dated not later than around AD 33-34. His first visit to Jerusalem was three years after this, making it at most seven years after the crucifixion.\n\nFor an answer to Bousset's theory, see Burkitt, Christian Beginnings, pp. 44-52; Rawlinson, The New Testament Doctrine of the Christ, pp. 231-67. This is not to deny the importance of Hellenistic influence in helping to fix the connotation of the term as used in worship and theology by Greek-speaking Christians.\nSee my article on the \"Chronology of the Acts and the Pauline Epistles\" in the Oxford Helps to the Study of the Bible. The Primitive Preaching (17). At that time, he stayed with Peter for two weeks. We may presume they did not spend all the time talking about the weather. After that, he had no direct contact with the primitive church for fourteen years, that is, almost down to the period to which our epistles belong. It is difficult to see how he could during this time have had any opportunity of further instruction in the apostolic traditions.\n\nThe date, therefore, at which Paul received the fundamentals of the gospel cannot well be later than some seven years after the death of Jesus Christ. It may be earlier, and indeed we must assume some knowledge of the tenets of Christianity in Paul even before his conversion.\nThe preaching of Paul represents a specific stream of Christian tradition derived from the main stream close to its source. His idiosyncrasies influenced his presentation of the gospel, but anyone arguing that the primitive Christian gospel was fundamentally different from Paul's must bear the burden of proof.\n\n18. The Apostolic Preaching\n\nThe recovered kerygma from the Pauline epistles is fragmentary, and no complete statement is available. However, we can outline it as follows:\n\n1. The prophecies are fulfilled, and the new age is inaugurated by the coming of Christ.\n2. He was born of the seed of David.\n3. He died according to the Scriptures, to deliver us out of the present evil age.\nHe was buried. He rose on the third day according to the Scriptures. He is exalted at the right hand of God as Son of God and Lord of quick and dead. He will come again as judge and savior of men. The apostolic preaching as adopted by Paul may have contained more than this. Comparison with other forms of the kerygma may enable us to expand the outline with probability; but so much of its content can be demonstrated from the epistles, and the evidence they afford is of primary value.\n\nWe now turn to another source of evidence, later than the Pauline epistles and not as direct, but yet of great importance \u2014 the account of the apostolic preaching in the Acts of the Apostles. The date of this work cannot be fixed closely, but it is more likely to belong to the\nThe nineties differ from the eighties or seventies of the first century. The author apparently used the liberty claimed by all ancient historians, including Thucydides, to compose speeches put into the mouths of story characters. However, indications suggest the author of Acts used this historian's privilege with consideration. In the first volume of his work, known as the Gospel according to Luke, he can be proven to have closely adhered to his sources when composing the discourses attributed to Jesus Christ. In Acts itself, consider the case of Paul's two apologies \u2013 before the Sanhedrin and before Agrippa and Festus.\npeople (xxii. 1-2, 1-26). And before Festus and Agrippa (xxvi. 2-23). They give different accounts of his conversion, both differing from the account of the event given by the historian himself in chapter nine. Why should a writer who elsewhere shows himself to be not indifferent to economy of space and the avoidance of repetition have been at the pains of composing, independently, three different accounts of the same event? In the Third Gospel, the occasional occurrence of \u201cdoublets\u201d is reasonably accounted for by the hypothesis of various sources. Is it not most natural to conclude that in the case before us, the author based the two speeches upon sources different from that which he followed in chapter nine? And if so, is any source more likely than some direct or indirect report of the line which Paul himself followed on these or similar occasions?\nThe speech of Paul to the elders of the Ephesian church in Acts 21:18-35 contains many echoes of the language of Pauline epistles. The writer either had access to these epistles or worked from Paul's actual speech on this or a similar occasion. The proximity of this speech to \"we\" passages suggests that the traveling companion responsible for these passages, whether or not he was also the author of the whole work, remembered Paul's general lines. In some cases at least, the author of Acts gives us speeches which are not verbatim reports, as the style is too Lucan and too un-Pauline.\nIt is not unusual to assume that the speeches in the earlier part of Acts were derived from the apostle's actual words, as is suggested for those in Acts 21:40-22:21. This hypothesis is plausible considering the following facts:\n\n(1) There are few, if any, ideas or expressions introduced that could raise suspicion due to their similarity to writings from the late first-century gentile church, like Acts. Nor are there any echoes of distinctively Pauline theology, even in the author's turns of speech, despite the author's association with the Pauline wing of the church.\n\nTo assume this is due to deliberate archaism is to attribute a modern perspective on historical writing to the author of Acts.\nThe speeches in question, as well as parts of the narrative in which they are embedded, have been shown to contain a large element of Semitism. This Hebraism is not of the kind that results from imitation, but is present in the original text. I will show that there are parallels between these speeches and the epistles of Paul, but these are not due to borrowing from Paul. In reply to the view that the speeches in the early part of Acts are late compositions, it is legitimate to point out that there is nothing in them which suggests what is distinctive of Paul. This is not true of other parts of Acts. For example, the phrase \u201cthe Spirit of Jesus\u201d in Acts xvi. 7 is unique in the NT, but is only a slight modification of the Aramaic expression \"ruach 'Iesous.\"\nThe expression, \"the Spirit of Jesus Christ,\" unique to Paul in this doctrine, is also found in Acts xiii.39. Similarly, \"justification\" is a Pauline term in Acts xx.28, and \"bishops\" as the title for local church leaders appears only in this term in Acts, as well as in Philippians i.1, 1 Timothy iii.2, and Titus i.7. No Pauline influence of this kind can be alleged against the earlier speeches.\n\nThe Primitive Preaching in Acts contains translations from the Greek of the Septuagint and can be traced in other parts of the Lucan work. It can be shown to be Aramaic, of a kind similar to that recognized in the report of Jesus' sayings in the Gospels. Therefore, there is a high probability that the author of Acts was influenced by Paul or his imitators.\nThe speeches in Acts are likely based on material from the Aramaic-speaking church in Jerusalem, whether translated or not. Torrey's theory, examined in De Zwaan's The Beginnings of Christianity, suggests strong Aramaic influence in Acts 1.1-5.16, 9.31-11.18, and some in Acts 15.1-36. However, the evidence is quite doubtful for Acts 5.17-9.30, 11.19-14.28, and less so for Acts 15.1-36. All the speeches here, except for 5.29-32, fall within these sections.\nAramaic is strong, and for myself, I cannot resist the conclusion that the material here presented existed in some form in Aramaic before it was incorporated in our Greek Acts. According to Torrey, there are some examples of mistranslation which would be natural in one whose knowledge of Aramaic had been acquired at Antioch, and who was not well acquainted with the southern Aramaic of Palestine.\n\nThe Apostolic Preaching\n\nSubstantially earlier than the period at which the book was written.\n\nWe may begin with the speeches in Acts 2-4. There are four in all. The first two (2.14-36, 38-39) are supposed to have been delivered by Peter to the multitude assembled on the day of Pentecost, the third (3.12-26) to the people after the healing of a lame man, and the fourth (4.8-12) to the Sanhedrin after the arrest of Peter and John.\nThe apostles. The second account of the arrest in v. 17-40 is probably a doublet from another source and does not betray the same traces of Aramaism. The speech said to have been delivered on this occasion (v. 29-32) does no more than recapitulate briefly the substance of the previous speeches. The speech of Peter to Cornelius in x. 34-43 is akin to the earlier speeches but has some special features, and in it the evidence for an Aramaic original is at its strongest. We may with some confidence take these speeches to represent, not indeed what Peter said on this or that occasion, but the kerygma of the church at Jerusalem at an early period. The first four speeches of Peter cover substantially the same ground. The phraseology and the order of presentation vary slightly.\nThere is no essential advance from one to another. They supplement one another, and taken together they afford a comprehensive view of the content of the early kerygma. This may be summarized as follows:\n\nFirst, the age of fulfillment has dawned. \"This is that which was spoken by the prophet\" (Acts 2.16). \"The things which God foretold by the mouth of all the prophets, he thus fulfilled\" (3.18). \"All the prophets, from Samuel and his successors, told of these days\" (3.24). It was a standing principle of rabbinic exegesis of the Old Testament that what the prophets predicted had reference to the \"days of the Messiah,\" that is, to the expected time when God, after long centuries of waiting, should visit his people with judgment and blessing, bringing to a climax his dealings with them.\nThe apostles declare that the messianic age has dawned through the ministry, death, and resurrection of Jesus. A brief account is given, with proof from the Scriptures that all took place \"through God's determined counsel and foreknowledge\":\n\n(i) His Davidic descent. \"David, being a prophet, and knowing that God had sworn to set one of the fruit of his loins upon his throne, saw him\" (Christ). Jesus is therefore proclaimed as having been born \"of the seed of his ministry.\" \"Jesus of Nazareth, a man divinely accredited to you by works of power, prodigies, and signs which God did through him among you\" (Acts 2:22). \"Moses said, The Lord your God will raise up a prophet like me; him you must hear in everything that he may say\"\n(Acts 3.22) \"You are the people he spoke to in the Bible, to whom God's promise came as fulfilled in the preaching and teaching of Jesus.\" (3) \"He was handed over by God's determined counsel and foreknowledge, and you, through the agency of men without the law, had him arrested and killed by crucifixion.\" (23) \"You took part in having him arrested, and denied him before Pilate during the trial when he intended to release him. You denied the holy and righteous one, asking for a murderer to be granted to you while you killed the Prince of Life.\" (Acts 5.1-14) (4) \"God raised him up, having released him from the pangs of death, because it was impossible for him to be held by it. For David says concerning him, 'You will not abandon my soul to Hades, nor let your Holy One experience decay.' (Acts 2.24-31) 'God raised him from the dead.\"\n\"Third, by virtue of the resurrection, Jesus has been exalted at the right hand of God as the messianic head of the new Israel. God has made him Lord and Christ (Acts 2:36). \"The God of our fathers has glorified his servant Jesus\" (Acts 3:13). He is the stone which was rejected by you builders, and has become the top cornerstone (Acts 4:11, citing Ps. 118:22). Compare \"God exalted him at his right hand as prince and savior\" (Acts 5:31). Fourth, the Holy Spirit in the church is the sign of Christ\u2019s present power and glory. \"Being exalted at the right hand of God, and having received the promise of the Holy Spirit\" (Acts 2:33).\nFrom the Father, he poured out what you see and hear (Acts 2.33). This is documented from Joel 2.28-32 (Acts 2.17-21). Compare \"We are witnesses of these things, and so is the Holy Spirit whom God has given to those who obey him\" (v.32).\n\nFifth, the messianic age will shortly reach its consummation in the return of Christ. \"That he may send the Messiah appointed beforehand, Jesus, whom heaven must receive until the times of the restoration of all things, of which God spoke through the mouth of his prophets from of old\" (3.21). This is the only passage in Acts 1-4 which speaks of the second advent of Christ. In Acts 10.42, this part of the kerygma is presented in these terms: \"This is he who is appointed by God as judge of the living and the dead.\" There is no other explicit reference to Christ as judge in these speeches.\nThe kerygma always closes with an appeal for repentance, offering forgiveness and the Holy Spirit, and the promise of salvation to those entering the elect community. \"Repent and be baptized, each of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of your sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. For the promise is for you, your children, and all those far off, whom the Lord your God may call\" (Acts 2:38-39, referring to Joel 2:32, Isa. 57:19). \"Repent therefore and be converted for the blotting out of your sins... You are the sons of the prophets and of the covenant which God made with your fathers, saying to Abraham, 'And in your seed all families of the earth shall be blessed'\" (Acts 2:38, 39, referring to Joel 2:32 and Isa. 51:19).\n\"in the first place God raised up his servant Jesus and sent him to bless you by turning each of you away from your sins (Acts 3.19, 25-26, citing Gen. 12.3). \"In no other is there salvation, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which you must be saved\" (Acts 4.12). Compare \"God exalted him at his right hand as prince and savior, to give repentance to Israel, and remission of sins\" (Acts 5.31); \"To him all the prophets bear witness, that everyone who believes in him shall receive remission of sins through his name\" (Acts 10.43).\n\nThe Apostolic Preaching\nWe may take it that this is what the author of Acts meant by \u201cpreaching the kingdom of God.\u201d It is very significant that it follows the lines of the summary of the preaching of Jesus as given in Mark 1.14-15: \u201cJesus came into Galilee, proclaiming the gospel of God, and saying, \u2018The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel.\u2019\"\n\"The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has drawn near; repent and believe the gospel.\" This summarizes the framework within which the Jerusalem kerygma is set. The first clause, \"The time is fulfilled,\" is expanded in the reference to prophecy and its fulfillment. The second clause, \"The kingdom of God has drawn near,\" is expanded in the account of Jesus' ministry and death, his resurrection and exaltation, all conceived as an eschatological process. The third clause, \"Repent and believe the gospel,\" reappears in the appeal for repentance and the offer of forgiveness with which the apostolic kerygma closes. Whether we say that the apostolic preaching was modeled on that of Jesus or that the evangelist formulated his summary of the preaching of the gospel.\nThe primitive church's teaching and that of Jesus are identical in portraying the kingdom of God. The kingdom of God is conceptualized as manifesting in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. Proclaiming these facts in their proper context is equivalent to preaching the gospel of the kingdom of God.\n\nIt's evident that we have here, as with the preaching discovered to underlie the Pauline epistles, a proclamation of Jesus Christ's death and resurrection in an eschatological context, from which these facts derive their saving significance. We can now compare the two versions of the kerygma in Paul and Acts respectively.\n\nThree points in the Pauline kerygma that do not directly appear in the Jerusalem kerygma of Acts are:\n\n1. Jesus is not called \"Son of God\" in it.\nHis titles are taken from the prophecies of Deutero-Isaiah. He is the holy and righteous \"Servant\" of God. It is noteworthy that the first person in Acts reported to have \"preached Jesus as the Son of God\" is Paul himself (ix. 20). It may be that this represents a difference in terminology. Yet, the idea that Jesus, as Messiah, is the Son of God is deeply rooted in the Synoptic Gospels, whose sources were in all probability not subject to Pauline influence. The Christological formula in Rom. 1:1-4 is, as we have seen, probably not Pauline in origin. The phrase \"Son of God with power\" there carries much the same ideas as the phrase \"Lord and Christ\" in the Jerusalem kerygma, for its significance is messianic rather than properly theological.\n\n(2) The Jerusalem kerygma does not assert:\nThe result of Christ's life, death, and resurrection is the forgiveness of sins, but this forgiveness is not specifically connected to his death. Paul includes this statement in what he \"received,\" leading us to hesitate ascribing the idea's origin to him. Since the Jerusalem kerygma applies to Christ the Isaianic title of \"Servant,\" the way was at least open to interpret his death on the lines of Isaiah liii. Acts eight:32-35 may suggest that this step was taken explicitly by the school of Stephen and Philip, with whom Paul appears to have been in touch.\n\nThe Jerusalem kerygma does not assert that the exalted Christ intercedes for us. It may be that in Rom. viii:34 Paul has inserted this on his own account into the apostolic formula.\nThe idea also appears in Hebrews 7:25 and Matt. 10:32, implying it may not be of Pauline origin. It could be another way of saying forgiveness is offered \"in his name.\" The rest of Paul's teachings reappear: Jesus' Davidic descent ensuring messiah-ship; his death according to Scriptures; resurrection according to Scriptures; exaltation to God's right hand as Lord and Christ; deliverance from sin into new life; and return to consummate the new age. The coincidence between the apostolic preaching as attested in Acts' speeches and Paul's teachings enables us to trace its essential elements to a date far earlier than a critical analysis of Acts alone could.\nThe Apostolic Preaching justify; for, as we have seen, Paul must have received the tradition very soon after Jesus' death. With this in view, we may usefully draw attention to other points in the Jerusalem kerygma which reappear in Paul's epistles, though he does not explicitly include them in his \"gospel.\" The kerygma in Acts lays emphasis upon the Holy Spirit in the church as the sign that the new age of fulfillment has begun. The idea of the Spirit in the church is very prominent in the Pauline epistles. We are now justified in concluding that this was no innovation of his, but represents a part of the tradition he had received. It is to be observed that in Gal. iii. 2 Paul appeals to the evidence of the Spirit in the church as a datum from which he may argue regarding the nature and conditions of salvation in Christ.\non this basis, he develops his doctrine of the Spirit as the \"earnest,\" or first installment, of the consummated life of the age to come (2 Cor. 1:22, 5; Eph. 1:13-14). This is true to the implications of the kerygma as we have it in Acts.\n\nAgain, the \"calling\" and \"election\" of the church as the \"Israel of God\" can now be seen to be no peculiarity of Pauline teaching. It is implied in such passages of the kerygma as Acts.\n\nThere is, indeed, very little in the Jerusalem kerygma which does not appear, substantially, in Paul. But there is one important element which, at first sight at least, is absent from his preaching, as far as we can recover it from the epistles, namely, the explicit reference to the ministry of Jesus, his miracles (Acts 2:22) and teaching (Acts 3:22). Such references are only slight in Paul's preaching.\nThe first four speeches of Peter, to which we have given most attention, differ from the speech attributed to Peter in Acts 10:34-43. The principal elements of the kerygma can be traced in this speech \u2013 the fulfillment of prophecy, the death and resurrection of Christ, his second advent, and the offer of forgiveness. However, all is given with extreme brevity, except the section dealing with historical facts concerning Jesus. These are treated in fairly full outline in the Greek of 10:35-38.\n\nThe Greek of 10:35-38 is notoriously rough and ungrammatical, and indeed scarcely translatable, though the general meaning is clear. This is strange in such an excellent Greek writer as the author of Acts. In some manuscripts, it has been improved. But Dr. Torrey has shown that if the text in its more difficult form (which, on the other hand, is supported by the best manuscripts) is correct, it presents no insurmountable difficulties.\neral  principles  of  textual  criticism  is  likely  to  be \nmore  original)  be  translated  word  for  word  into \nAramaic,  it  becomes  both  grammatical  and  per\u00ac \nspicuous.  The  case,  therefore,  for  regarding  the \npassage  as  a  translation  is  strong.  I  shall  here \nfollow  Dr.  Torrey  and  give  the  passage  after  his \nrestored  Aramaic,  being  convinced  that  by  doing \nso  we  shall  come  nearer  to  the  original  form. \n\u201c  As  for  the  word  which  he,  the  Lord  of  all, \nsent  to  the  children  of  Israel,  preaching  the  gospel \nof  peace  through  Jesus  the  Messiah,  you  know \nthe  thing  [literally,  \u2018  the  word  \u2019]  that  happened \nthrough  all  Judea,  beginning  from  Galilee  after \nthe  baptism  which  John  preached;  that  God \nanointed  Jesus  of  Nazareth  with  Holy  Spirit  and \npower;  and  he  went  about  doing  good  and  heal\u00ac \ning  all  who  were  oppressed  by  the  devil,  because \nTHE  PRIMITIVE  PREACHING  37 \nGod was with him, and we are witnesses to all that he did in the country of the Jews and Jerusalem. He was killed by hanging him on a tree. God raised him up on the third day and permitted him to be manifest, not to all people, but to witnesses chosen beforehand by God, namely to us, who ate and drank with him after he rose from the dead.\n\nIt is observed that the first clause, \"the word which he sent to the children of Israel, preaching the gospel of peace through Jesus Christ,\" which forms a sort of heading to the whole, is a virtual equivalent of the term \"kerygma\" or \"gospel.\" The passage is therefore offered explicitly as a form of apostolic preaching. It is represented as being delivered by Peter to a gentile audience. It is quite intelligible in the situation presupposed that some of them had been Christians before.\nThe ministry account of Jesus should have been presented when the gospel was shared with people unfamiliar with the main facts. We can assume that the speech before Cornelius represents the form of preaching used by the primitive church in its early outreach to a wider audience. In Paul's preaching, although it was similarly addressed to the wider public, there doesn't seem to be a comprehensive summary of the facts of Jesus' ministry, distinct from his death and resurrection. However, it would be hasty to argue from silence that Paul completely disregarded the life of Jesus in his preaching. His preaching is represented only fragmentarily and incidentally in the epistles.\nHe was aware of the historical life of Jesus and cited his sayings as authoritative. It may be that the brief recital of historical facts in 1 Cor. xv. 1-7 is only the conclusion of a general summary which may have included some reference to the ministry. But this remains uncertain. According to Acts, Paul preached in terms closely similar to those of the Petrine kerygma in Acts x. The speech said to have been delivered by Paul at Pisidian Antioch (Acts xiii. 16-41) is too long to be quoted here in full, but the gist of it is: God brought Israel out of Egypt and gave them David for their king. Of the seed of David, Jesus has come as savior. He was heralded by John the Baptist. His disciples followed him from Galilee to Jerusalem. There he was crucified and rose again on the third day.\nbrought to trial by the rulers of the Jews before Pilate, who reluctantly condemned him. He died according to the Scriptures and was buried. God raised him from the dead according to the Scriptures, and he was seen by witnesses. Through him forgiveness and justification are offered. Therefore take heed. This is of the same stuff as the kerygma in the early chapters of Acts. It may be compared on the one hand with the speeches in Acts 2-4, and on the other hand with the speech in Acts 10. It is a mixture of the two types. In particular, its historical data are fuller than those of Acts 2-4, but less full than those of Acts 10, containing no allusions to the baptism of Jesus or his miracles in Galilee. There is nothing specifically Pauline in it, except the term \u201cjustification\u201d.\nThe scheme and emphasis in this work correspond to what we find in the epistles, with little or nothing undocumentable from them, except for the historical details in the introductory passage (xiii. 16-22) and specific allusions to episodes in the gospel story, particularly the ministry of John the Baptist (the fullest account in the New Testament outside the Gospels) and the trial before Pilate. The two episodes might have fallen within Paul's interest for the following reasons:\n\n1. Paul refers in his epistles to Apollos as a fellow worker, though others set him up as a rival. According to Acts, Apollos had been a follower of John the Baptist. Paul must have known him through this connection.\nHad occasion to relate the work of the Baptist to the Christian faith. In 1 Timothy vi. 13, we have an allusion to Christ\u2019s \u201cconfession before Pontius Pilate.\u201d Although we should probably not accept 1 Timothy as an authentic Pauline letter, it nonetheless represents the standpoint of the Pauline circle, and the allusion to Pilate may have been derived from Paul\u2019s preaching. These observations are far from proving that Paul would have included such references to John the Baptist and to the trial before Pilate in his preaching, but they show that it is not impossible that he may have done so, in spite of the silence of his epistles. In any case, if we recall the close general similarity of the kerygma as derived from the Pauline epistles to the kerygma as derived from Acts, as well as Paul\u2019s emphatic emphasis.\nThe speech at Pisidian Antioch may represent a form of Paul's preaching, the one he adopted in synagogues. If this is so, Paul, like other early Christian preachers, gave a place in his preaching to some kind of recital of the facts of Jesus' life and ministry. Within the general scheme of the kerygma, some reference to the historical facts of Jesus' life was included, however brief. These facts fell within the eschatological setting of the whole.\nThe facts of his death and resurrection are eschatological events, part of the process by which God's purpose is fulfilled and his kingdom comes. Comparing the Pauline epistles with the speeches in Acts provides a clear and certain outline sketch of the apostles' preaching. The primitiveness of the message in the strictest sense does not necessarily follow. Within a few years, the perspective of the kerygma regarding the relationship between Christ's death, resurrection, and exaltation, and his second advent, must have altered.\n\nThe expectation of an early advent persisted in the church for a long time.\nEven in the first epistle of John (2:18), the belief is expressed that this is \"the last hour.\" The appendix to the Fourth Gospel is evidence that as long as one survivor of the apostles' generation remained, the church clung to the belief that during his lifetime, the Lord would come (John 21:20-23). The expectation of a speedy advent must have had extraordinarily deep roots in Christian belief. When Paul wrote to the Thessalonians in AD 50, he clearly expected it very soon indeed, and the qualifications he introduces in 2 Thessalonians seem to have been of the nature of an afterthought, as he had said nothing about them in his preaching. It is clearly the result of reflection upon the fact that the advent had been unexpectedly delayed. His first preaching left the Thessalonians completely surprised and bewildered.\nThe wandering apostles were perplexed when some of their companions passed away, yet the Lord had not appeared. If Paul preached in these terms at least twenty years after the church's inception, we can assume that the announcement of an imminent advent was even more emphatic at an earlier date.\n\nIn the Jerusalem kerygma, there is an equal sense of immediacy. It seems implied in Acts 3.19-20 that Israel's repentance in response to the apostles' appeal will be immediately followed by \"times of refreshing,\" the return of Christ, and the \"restoration of all things.\" Recalling that this passage, though early in origin, was not written down until much later.\n\nWhat was the apostles' attitude at the beginning? We must remember that the early:\n\nThe wandering apostles were puzzled when some of their companions died, yet the Lord had not appeared. If Paul preached in these terms at least twenty years after the church's founding, we can assume that the announcement of an imminent advent was even more emphatic at an earlier date.\n\nIn the Jerusalem kerygma, there is an equal sense of immediacy. It seems implied in Acts 3.19-20 that Israel's repentance in response to the apostles' appeal will be immediately followed by \"times of refreshing,\" the return of Christ, and the \"restoration of all things.\" Recalling that this passage, though early in origin, was not penned until much later.\n\nWhat was the apostles' attitude at the beginning? We must remember that the early church's teachings were passed down orally for quite some time before being committed to writing.\nThe kingdom of God has come upon you (Matt. xii. 28, Luke xi. 20). This signifies that the great divine event, the eschaton, has already entered history. In agreement with this, the preaching of Paul and the Jerusalem church affirms that the decisive thing has already happened. The prophecies are fulfilled; God has shown his \"mighty works\"; the Messiah has come; he has been exalted to the right hand of God; he has given the Spirit which, according to the prophets, should come \"in the last days.\" Thus, all that remains is the completion of that which is already in being. It is not to introduce a new order of things that the Lord will come; it is only to finish his work. The church believed that the Lord had said, \"You will see the Son of Man coming in power and great glory.\"\n\"Man seated on the right hand of the Power and coming with the clouds of heaven\" (Mark xiv. 62). One part of the vision was fulfilled: by the eye of faith they already saw him on the right hand of God. Why should the conclusion of the vision delay?\n\nThe more we try to penetrate in imagination to the state of mind of the first Christians in the earliest days, the more are we driven to think of resurrection, exaltation, and second advent as being, in their belief, inseparable parts of a single divine event. It was not an early advent they proclaimed, but an immediate advent. They proclaimed it not so much as a future event for which men should prepare by repentance, but rather as the impending corroboration of a present fact: the new age is already here, and because it is here, men should repent. The proof:\n\n\"Man seated on the right hand of the Power, coming with the clouds of heaven\" (Mark 14:62). One part of the vision was fulfilled: by the faith of the first Christians, they had already seen him seated on the right hand of God. Why should the fulfillment of the vision be delayed?\n\nThe more we delve into the mindset of the earliest Christians, the more we are compelled to view resurrection, exaltation, and second coming as interconnected aspects of a single divine event. They did not proclaim an early coming, but an imminent one. They proclaimed it not as a future event for which people should repent in anticipation, but rather as the confirmation of a present reality: the new age had already begun, and because it had, people should repent. The evidence:\nThe text was in the actual presence of the Spirit, that is, the supernatural, during men's experiences. It was in a supernatural world where the apostles felt they lived; therefore, it was natural for them to believe any day the Lord could be seen in the heavens. This was what they believed their Lord meant by saying, \"The kingdom of God has come upon you,\" while also instructing them to pray, \"Thy kingdom come.\"\n\nIt's worth noting that the apostolic preaching, as recorded in Acts, does not emphasize the greatest expectation of a second advent of the Lord, contrary to popular belief. This expectation is only explicitly and fully set forth in Acts 3:20-21, and Christ is only described as judge of the quick and dead in Acts 10:42. The speeches in Acts 2, 4.\nThe primitive preaching contains no explicit reference to the law, but it is implied in the whole kerygma. The main burden of the kerygma is that the unprecedented has happened: God has visited and redeemed his people. This conviction persists as fundamental to Christian belief throughout the New Testament. Paul speaks of the \"new creation\" that takes place when a man is \"in Christ\" (2 Cor. 5:16). He says that God has \"rescued us out of the domain of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of the Son of his love\" (Col. 1:13). The epistle to the Hebrews says that Christians have \"tasted the powers of the age to come\" (6:6). First Peter says that Christians have been \"born again.\"\nThe Fourth Gospel, as well as the writings of i. 3 and iii. 3, imply that the eschaton, the final and decisive act of God, has already entered human experience. This belief, which is rooted in traditional Jewish eschatology, is primitive and reflects an inseparable unity of experience that includes the expectation of an immediate confirmation of its truth. The great act of God has passed through the stages of sending the Messiah, his miraculous works and authoritative teaching, his death (determined by God's counsel and foreknowledge), resurrection, and exaltation to the right hand of God. It now hovers on the verge.\nThe indivisible unity of experience behind the apostles' preaching was broken. The Lord did not come on the clouds. Despite their conviction of living in an age of miracles, the apostles found themselves living in a world that continued on its course outside the Christian community. The tremendous crisis they believed they were living through passed without reaching its expected issue. The second advent of the Lord, which seemed impending as the completion of what they had already \"seen and heard,\" came to appear as a second crisis yet in the future. Within a few years, this division in the originally indivisible unity began to emerge.\nThe experience must have insensibly taken place in their minds, for they were intercalary years, so to speak, not provided for in their first calendar of the divine purpose. The consequent demand for readjustment was a principal cause of the development of early Christian thought.\n\nThe Gospels II\n\nThe Gospels\n\nHe preaching of the primitive church had, as we have seen, an eschatological setting. Its terms were borrowed from the traditional eschatology of Judaism. But it differed from all earlier prophecy and apocalypse in declaring that the eschatological process was already in being. The kingdom of God had made its appearance with the coming of the Messiah; his works of power and his \"new teaching with authority\" had provided evidence of the presence of God among men; his death \"according to the determine counsel and foreknowledge of God\" had initiated the eschatological process.\nThe end of the old order marked the beginning of the new age, with Jesus' resurrection inaugurating this new era, characterized by the prophesied outpouring of the Holy Spirit upon God's people. The new order would be consummated by Christ's return in glory to judge the quick and the dead and save his own from the wrath to come. This process was conceived as a continuous, divinely directed one, with past, present, and future all having eschatological significance. The recent past encompassed Jesus' ministry, death, and resurrection; the present attested to his power in the church through the Spirit; the near future would reveal the meaning of the whole. The unexpected delay in the consummation disrupted the continuity of the eschatological process.\nThe logical process involved some readjustment of outlook, depending on the relative emphasis placed on the past, present, or future aspect of the primitive gospel. For some minds, the most intense emotion gathered around the thought of the expected advent of the Lord. The finished work of Christ and its results in the present experience of the church existed as a permanent background of faith, producing the atmosphere of \"joy and simplicity of heart\" noted in Acts (2:46) as characteristic of the early days. However, all this was, in some way, provisional and incomplete; it was preparatory to the glory yet to be revealed when the Lord should return on the clouds of heaven.\n\nAs the revelation still delayed, the believers.\nThe early church concluded they had been mistaken in believing the Lord would return immediately. A more attentive study of his teaching and observation of the signs of the times would help them determine the time and reason for his delay. The church then reconstructed the traditional Jewish eschatology, modifying it after the declaration that the kingdom of God had already come. Apocalyptic literature provided ample materials for this reconstruction. The church's reconstructed eschatology drew heavily on Jewish sources.\n\nThe earliest evidence of this tendency can be found in 2 Thessalonians. The eschatological passage in the first chapter (7-10) of that epistle:\nMost critics have noted that the style of this text, which is unlike that of Paul, is best understood as a virtual quotation of some current apocalypse, Jewish or Jewish-Christian. There is nothing distinctively Christian in its contents or general tone, apart from the fact that the figure of the Messiah is identified with Jesus. In the second chapter (3-10), we have a peculiar doctrine which may have been contained in the same apocalypse. It is clearly an adaptation of the ancient myth of Antichrist or Beliar, who now appears in the guise of the \u201cMan of Sin.\u201d The motive underlying it is the problem of why the Lord has not yet come. The answer is that his coming must be preceded, as ancient apocalypses had foretold, by the outbreak of final anarchy. This outbreak is delayed by the \"restraining power,\" which is probably to be identified as the Holy Spirit or Roman power.\nThe power of the Roman Empire is understood, yet \"the Mystery of Iniquity\" is already at work. Shortly, the restraining power will be removed. The \"Man of Sin\" will appear, claiming divine honors, and will commit a horrible sacrilege in God's temple. This will be the signal for the immediate coming of the Lord to judgment.\n\nIt may well be that those critics are right who suggest that the model who sat for this portrait of the \"Man of Sin\" was Caligula, whose attempt to set up his image in the temple deeply affronted Jewish sentiment, recalling, as it did, the sacrilege of Antiochus Epiphanes, which Daniel had described as \"the abomination of desolation.\" Caligula's attempt failed, but it showed that the mystery of iniquity was already at work, and a second such attempt would follow.\nThe final crisis is explained, along with the infallible signs preceding the Lord's advent in the \"Little Apocalypse\" of Mark xiii. The motive is similar in this apocalypse, which contains primitive teachings of Jesus but is inconsistent with his teaching as a whole and presupposes knowledge of events after his death. The writer considers the disturbed political situation in the late fifties or early sixties, the \"wars and rumors of wars\" on the eastern frontier of the Empire, the famines and earthquake shocks recorded under Claudius and Nero, and the growing isolation of Jerusalem.\nThe unpopularity of the Christian church and the impending horrors, including the \"abomination of desolation\" and the final tribulation, are concerns for the author. He assures readers that these events have not yet occurred. The documents illustrate the reconstructed eschatology of the early church, which influenced the teachings in the Synoptic Gospels, particularly the First Gospel. This influence is natural, as the tradition had undergone development before being embodied in the canonical Gospels.\nof what we may call the \u201cfuturist eschatology,\u201d as distinct from the \u201crealized eschatology\u201d which gives its character to the earliest preaching, as well as to the earliest tradition of the teaching of Jesus. This \u201cfuturist\u201d tendency reaches its climax within the New Testament in the Revelation of John. As a piece of apocalyptic literature, it takes its place naturally in the series which begins with the Book of Daniel and includes such works as the Book of Enoch, the Assumption of Moses, the Apocalypse of Baruch, and 2 Esdras. The whole apparatus of Jewish apocalyptic is here adapted to Christian use. In cryptic imagery, the writer refers to current and immediately impending events \u2014 the political conflicts of the time. (1) See my book, The Parables of the Kingdom (London, Nisbet, 1935), Chaps. IV-VI.\nThe Parthian menace, the fear of Nero's return, the growth of Caesar worship, and the intensification of persecution \u2014 these signs interpret as the infallible indicators of the approaching advent of the Lord. The emphasis falls upon what is to come.\n\nThe other elements in the kerygma are present as a background. The death and resurrection of the Lord are presupposed as the condition of his ultimate triumph, and he is seen in vision walking among the golden candlesticks which are the churches. However, all this is subordinated to the intense expectation of glory yet to come, which absorbs the writer\u2019s real interest.\n\nReviewing the book as a whole, we must judge that this excessive emphasis on the future has the effect of relegating to a secondary place just those elements in the original gospel.\nThe distinctive features of Christianity are the belief that in the finished work of Christ, God has already acted for the salvation of man, and the blessed sense of living in the divine presence here and now.\n\nUnder the influence of revived Jewish eschatology, Christianity was in danger of falling back into the position of the earlier apocalyptists. Minds dominated by the fantastic visions of the Revelation of John might easily lose the sense that all had been made new by the coming of Christ, and that in the communion of his people, the life of the age to come was a present possession, through the Spirit which he had given. They would then be in no better case than, for instance, the authors of the apocalypses of Baruch and Ezra, for whom the present had no divine significance, but all the energy of faith was absorbed in the expectation of the end.\nThe lack of substance in the gospel would amount to a denial of its essence. The relapse into pre-Christian eschatology is evident in the tone and temper of Revelation itself. Despite its magnificent imagery and splendid visions of God's majesty and the world to come, we must judge that in its concept of God's character and his attitude towards man, the book falls below the level of Jesus' teaching and the best parts of the Old Testament. Our Lord's proclamation of the kingdom of God was linked to a new conception of the infinite loving-kindness of the heavenly Father. It was \"a new teaching, with authority.\" Where can we find its echoes in Revelation of John? At most, in a verse or two.\nThe God of the Apocalypse cannot be recognized as the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, nor does the fierce Messiah, whose warriors ride in blood up to their horses' bridles, possess many traits recalling him of whom the primitive kerygma proclaimed that he went about doing good and healing all who were oppressed by the devil because God was with him. This line of development led into a blind alley. In the second century, its stream of thought ran out into the barren sands of millenarianism, which in the end was disavowed by the church. Attempts to revive it in later periods had something artificial and fanatical about them. When their authors claim to be returning to primitive Christianity, they ignore the fact that the gospels declare it is impossible ever to revive the belief that the Lord would in literal truth arrive to judgment.\nUpon the clouds of heaven during the first century's thirties, he did not come. It is not primitive Christianity, whatever it may be, to generate a fantastic expectation that he will arrive in the twentieth century's thirties.\n\nThe possibility of eschatological fanaticism was present in the primitive church's outlook, but it was restrained by the essential character of the gospel as experienced. The exposure of the illusion that fixed an early date for the Lord's advent, while it threw some minds back into the unwholesome ferment of apocalyptic speculation, gave finer minds the occasion for grasping more firmly the substantive truths of the gospel and finding for them a more adequate expression.\n\nReturning to the primitive kerygma, we recall that in it the expectation of the Lord's return is present.\nThe ministry, death, and resurrection of Jesus are held in close association with their definite value in his eschatological process. Eschatology is not the substance of the gospel but a form under which the absolute value of the gospel facts is asserted. The second advent is not the supreme fact to which all else is preparatory; it is the impending verification of the church's faith that the finished work of Christ has inherent value. Thus, the authentic line of development, as the expectation of an immediate advent faded, led to a concentration of attention upon the historical facts of Jesus' ministry, death, and resurrection, exhibited in an eschatological context.\nThis line of development can be traced in the Pauline and other epistles. Paul's preaching was centered in the proclamation of the facts of the death and resurrection of Christ. His interpretation of these facts starts from the application to them of eschatological categories. Thus, he says that in the death of Christ, God manifested his righteousness (Rom. iii. 21-26) and condemned sin in the flesh (Rom. viii. 3). The manifestation of righteousness and the condemnation of sin are functions of the last judgment. Again, he says that in the cross, God triumphed over principalities and powers (Col. ii. 15). The overthrow of the \"kingdom of the enemy\" is, in eschatological tradition, the coming of the kingdom of God, that is, the ultimate.\nThe divine event and the resurrection of Christ mark the first stage of human nature's transformation into a heavenly condition, as predicted in the apocalypses. Paul refers to Christ as the \"first-fruits of those who sleep\" (1 Cor. xv. 20) and the \"firstborn from the dead\" (Col. i. 18). Through union with him, Christians have already experienced the \"new creation,\" and are \"being transformed from glory to glory.\" The death and resurrection of Christ signify the divinely ordained crisis in history through which old things passed away and the new order came into being.\n\nIn this context, we must interpret all that Paul says about redemption, justification, and the end of the Law. The redemption of Israel from Egyptian slavery had already become a foreshadowing of the ultimate redemption for the prophets.\nThe redemption of God's people from all evil of this present age is the ultimate (eschatological) redemption Paul sees as accomplished through Christ's death and resurrection. The very concept of \"justification\" implies a judgment that has already taken place. God's righteousness is already revealed, taking the form of the \"justification\" of his people, as foreseen by the prophets. Nothing short of the appearance of the age to come could supersede the Law, which expressed God's purpose for man in \"this age.\" In dying to the Law and rising into new life, Christ made the decisive transition on behalf of the whole people of God. The philosophy of history expounded in Rom. ix-xi, and more allusively elsewhere,\nThe Gospels, with its acute and convincing valuation of the stages of Hebrew and Jewish history, implies a corresponding valuation of the events in which, for Paul, that history reached fulfillment: the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. These events have the actuality which belongs to the historical process as such, and at the same time, they possess the absolute significance which belongs to the eschaton, the ultimate fulfillment of the divine purpose in history.\n\nIn the first epistle of Peter, the reader is aware of an atmosphere which, in some respects, seems nearer to that of the primitive church, as we divine it behind the early chapters of Acts, than anything else in the New Testament. Its thought follows the apostolic preaching in general, and we could easily believe that in places its very language is echoed.\nThe theme of all prophecy is \"the sufferings of Christ and the glory to follow\" (I. 11). His death, which occurred \"at the end of the times,\" is the fulfillment of the eternal counsel of God (I. 20). He died for sins, rose again, ascended into heaven, and is on the right hand of God \u2014 angels, principalities, and powers being subject to him (III. 18-22). In the light of our previous study, we shall not be so quick as some critics to attribute all this to \"Pauline influence.\" It is a clear echo of the apostolic preaching that lies behind Paul and the whole New Testament.\n\nHowever, it is of particular interest to note that this writer does not dwell exclusively on the bare fact that Christ died for our sins, but attaches saving significance to his character and his.\nThe behavior on trial was described as, \"He did no sin, and no guile was found in his mouth. When he was abused, he did not retort with abuse. Under suffering, he uttered no threats, but committed himself to him who judges justly\" (II. 22-23). It has often been pointed out that this description is partly modeled on Isaiah liii, which describes the sufferings of the servant of the Lord. However, I venture to think that the wrong inference has often been drawn from this fact. It has been said that the writer is not following any historical tradition of the life of Jesus but drawing freely from prophecy an ideal picture of the suffering Messiah. This is to miss the point. For this writer, as for other early Christian thinkers, the important thing is the correspondence of prophecy with the facts. That Isaiah foretold such sufferings.\nThe behavior of Jesus' servant is important because Jesus indeed exhibited a certain character in his sufferings, which is part of the \"eschatological\" fulfillment. This goes beyond what is explicitly stated by Paul, though it may be implied in Romans 5:19, 15:3; Philippians 2:8. In the epistle to the Hebrews, eschatology has been reinterpreted in terms of a Platonic scheme. The \"age to come\" is identified with that order of eternal reality whose shadows or reflections form the world of phenomena. The death of Christ, which in the primitive preaching was the crisis of the eschatological process,\nIn the Pauline epistles, 1 Peter, and Hebrews, the primitive valuation of Christ's death and resurrection as eschatological events is developed in striking ways. However, in none of these writings is there a sustained attempt to give an eschatological interpretation to these events.\nThe facts of Jesus' ministry, beyond his passion, death, and resurrection, are recorded by all three writers. They acknowledge that his death was the final expression of his character and moral purpose, which were evident in his entire incarnate life. Paul states that Jesus was born under the Law (Gal. iv. 4), became poor for our sake (2 Cor. viii. 9), pleased himself in nothing (2 Cor. x. 4), and was obedient to God's will in all things (Rom. xv. 3, Phil. ii. 8). These facts are essential to the saving effect of his death. In 1 Peter, his innocence and humility under trial are part of his full expression.\nThe divine purpose of his death, as declared in the prophets, is described in the psalmist's words, \"Lo, I am come to do thy will, O God\" (Hebrews x. 5-9). For this writer, his trials and temptations (Hebrews ii. 18, iv. 15), his discipline of suffering (ii. 10), and his agony in prayer (v. 7), are all factors in the act by which he consecrated the new and living way through the veil. However, for all these writers, the life of Jesus is rather the preparation for his death and resurrection than itself a part of the decisive eschatological event. None of them fully justifies the place which the recital of the facts of the ministry holds in some forms of the apostolic preaching.\n\nFor a more thoroughgoing valuation of the life of Jesus in the apostolic preaching, see the following passage:\n\n\"And beginning at Moses and all the Prophets, he expounded unto them in all the scriptures the things concerning himself\" (Luke 24:27).\n\n\"He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of every creature: For by him were all things created, that are in heaven, and that are in earth, visible and invisible, whether they be thrones, or dominions, or principalities, or powers: all things were created by him, and for him: And he is before all things, and by him all things consist\" (Colossians 1:15-17).\n\n\"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made by him; and without him was not any thing made that was made\" (John 1:1-3).\n\nThese passages demonstrate that the life, ministry, death, and resurrection of Jesus are all integral parts of the decisive eschatological event, rather than just the preparation for it.\nThe life of Jesus, in eschatological terms, requires examination of the Synoptic Gospels, beginning with Mark. I have previously shown that a connecting thread runs through much of the narrative in the Gospel according to Mark, which shares some similarity with the brief summary of Jesus' story in Acts 10 and 13. This thread can be considered an expanded form of the historical section of the kerygma.\n\nRecall the general scheme of the kerygma. It initiates by declaring \"this is that which was spoken by the prophets; the age of fulfillment has dawned, and Christ is its Lord.\" The narrative then recounts historical facts leading up to the resurrection and exaltation of Christ, concluding with the promise of his coming in glory, and a call to repentance.\nThe Gospels (The Framework of the Gospel Narrative, Expository Times, Vol. XLIII, no. 9, 396 ff.)\n\nIn Mark's Gospel, the section offering forgiveness is not isolated from the general scheme, as it is in the kerygma. Mark's Gospel theme is not just the succession of events leading to Jesus' crucifixion. It is the theme of the kerygma as a whole. This is indicated by the opening phrase, which titles the work: \"The beginning of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.\" Patristic writers referred to the Gospels as \"memoirs,\" placing them in a well-defined class of Greek literature. However, the earliest evangelist did not describe his work in this way.\nHe describes it as \"Gospel,\" and this word, as we have seen, is a virtual equivalent for kerygma. Mark therefore conceived himself as writing a form of kerygma, and that his Gospel is in fact a rendering of the apostolic preaching will become clear from an analysis of the book itself. After the opening phrase, which I have already quoted, the Gospel begins: \"As it is written in Isaiah the prophet.\" This recalls the first words of the kerygma according to Acts 2: \"This is that which was spoken by the prophet.\" The theme of fulfillment is at once in view. The prophecies cited here are those which speak of the immediate prelude to the day of the Lord, and these Mark sees fulfilled in the appearance of John the Baptist, of whose ministry a brief account is given, just sufficient to introduce the.\nsignificant words, \"A stronger one is coming after me. I baptized with water, but he will baptize you with Holy Spirit.\" Once again, we have an echo of the kerygma in Acts, which finds in the descent of the Spirit the sign of the new age. John's proclamation is followed immediately by the baptism of Jesus, accompanied by a vision of the Holy Spirit, and the divine voice which acclaims him as the Son of God. We know from Acts x. 38 that this event was interpreted as the \"anointing\" of Jesus, by which he was designated Messiah, i.e. \"the Anointed,\" in fulfillment of the prophecy in Isa. lxi. 1. So far, therefore, Mark serves as a commentary on the kerygma, and explains why in even the very brief account of Jesus' baptism, this event is included. (According to Acts xiii. 25, this was actually included in some forms of the apostolic preaching, though as it does not appear in Mark's account.)\nThe Gospels summaries in Acts x and xiii emphasize the role of John the Baptist. Mark describes Jesus entering Galilee, preaching the kingdom of God with the message: \"The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has drawn near. Repent and believe the gospel.\" This exordium sets the narrative within the framework of the kerygma. From this point, detailed narrative begins, primarily in the form of more or less detached episodes.\nThe passion narrative occupies about one-fifth of the Gospel, with more than half dominated by the thought of the approaching passion. From the first announcement of \"The Son of Man must suffer\" in chapter viii, the shadow of the cross falls upon the whole story. This corresponds to the emphasis of the apostolic preaching, as seen in Acts and in its development in Paul and Hebrews. The earliest Gospel is predominantly a gospel of the passion.\nThe story of the passion is prefaced in chapters i-viii, as it is in Acts x, by an account of Jesus' ministry in Galilee. Mark serves as commentary on the kerygma, as his apparently artless series of episodes from the Galilean ministry builds up a cumulative impression of the decisive significance of the facts. The works of Jesus are works of divine power. With authority, he commands the unclean spirits, and Satan's dominion is at an end; for no one could plunder the strong man's house if he had not first bound the strong man. Not only in his death, but in his ministry, Jesus overcame the principalities and powers. As the prophets had declared, in the age to come, the eyes of the blind should be opened and the eyes of the oppressed see.\nears of the deaf unstopped, so Jesus heals the blind and the deaf, and restores strength to the palsied and life to the dead. He teaches with authority and not as the scribes. He releases men from the obligations of the Law and the tradition, and pronounces the forgiveness of sins. By his sovereign will he calls men, even those who are without the Law, and they rise and follow. And to those who follow, he says, \"To you is given the mystery of the kingdom of God.\"\n\nThis all leads up to the momentous question, \"Who do you say that I am?\" and Peter's reply, \"Thou art the Messiah,\" puts into words the conviction that the whole narrative has been intended to create in the mind of the reader. The Messiah has appeared, and in him the kingdom of God has come. The story takes on its eschatological significance. So now the way is clear for\nThe Apostolic Preaching: the proclamation of Christ and him crucified.\n\n\"The Son of Man must suffer many things, and be rejected, and rise again.\" The theme of the rest of the Gospel is \"the sufferings of Christ and the glory to follow.\" According to the first epistle of Peter, this is the theme of all prophecy.\n\nObserve how subtly the story of the passion is set within a frame of glory. The first announcement of suffering is followed immediately by the vision of the glory of Christ in the story of the transfiguration. The Lord appears attended by the historic figures of Moses and Elijah. Then the cloud of the divine glory descends upon him and a voice declares, \"This is my beloved Son\"; and forthwith Moses and Elijah are seen no more. The Law and the prophets have vanished in the moment of their fulfillment.\none but Jesus alone. Then follows the fateful journey to Jerusalem, punctuated with renewed predictions of the sufferings that await him there, ending with the messianic entry into the city and the cleansing of the temple. We recall the words of prophecy, \"The Lord whom you seek shall suddenly come to his temple, but who may abide the day of his coming?\" (Mai. iii. 1-2). And so the stage is set for the description of the passion itself, given in a tone of unrelieved tragedy, with none of those alleviating touches which the other evangelists have allowed themselves. In its grim realism, it is almost overwhelming to read. But once again, the tragedy is framed in glory. In chapter xiii, Mark has interrupted the narrative to insert the apocalyptic discourse to which I have already referred. Considered as an independent composition,\nThe \"Little Apocalypse\" originally belonged to a line of development with no real future. However, when incorporated into the gospel of the passion, it acquires a different perspective. It assures the reader that the suffering and defeat preceding it have an eternal weight of glory as Christ attained through his passion. The balance of the original kerygma is restored.\n\nThis is the introduction of the passion story. It ends on a similar note. The darkness upon the whole earth while Christ died broods over the narrative until his dying cry is stilled. And then, \"The veil of the temple was rent in two from top to bottom.\" We have already met this rending of the veil.\nIt is the veil that lay between men and the presence of God. Christ has now consecrated a new and living way through the veil: God is revealed, in his kingdom, power, and glory. Not Paul himself could set forth more startlingly the divine paradox of the glory of the cross. \"And when the centurion saw that he so died, he said, 'Truly this man was the Son of God.' \" As Peter's confession prepared the way for the story of the passion, so the confession of the pagan soldier provides the final comment upon it.\n\nMark then proceeded, according to the formula of the kerygma in 1 Cor. xv, to record how Christ was buried and rose again the third day according to the Scriptures. Unfortunately, only a fragment of his resurrection narrative has survived; enough, however, to show what the climax of the Gospel was.\nThe saving story is complete. We see clearly how Mark's work is fittingly described as \"gospel\" rather than \"memoirs\" of Jesus. The character of other early attempts to \"compose a narrative of the facts that were accomplished among us,\" to which Luke refers in his preface, is impossible to determine. However, the gospel writing scheme laid down by Mark became the model for the other canonical Gospels.\n\nWe discern, however, a certain departure from the original perspective and emphasis of the kerygma in Matthew and Luke. In both, the narrative of Jesus' passion, death, and resurrection occupies a smaller proportion: roughly one-seventh in Matthew and about one-sixth in Luke, compared to one-fifth in Mark.\nWhen Mark was complete, its resurrection narrative was certainly longer. The Apostolic Preaching in both Matthew and Luke emphasizes an element not prominent in Mark: that Christ was \"born of the seed of David,\" qualifying Him for messiahship according to prophecy. The genealogies supplied in both are intended as documentation of this fact, with Matthew frequently mentioning the descent from David. However, the nativity narratives, which trace the Davidic descent of Jesus through Joseph despite His not being identified as His father in these narratives, cannot be derived from the kerygma? Matthew further emphasizes the theme of \"fulfillment\" through his systematic practice.\nProfessor Karl Ludwig Schmidt, in \"Theologische Blatter\" (December 1935, pp. 289-297), suggests the virgin birth story was derived from a form of tradition passed down in secrecy. Regardless, it has no direct connection to the kerygma, which was a public proclamation.\n\nThe Gospels: The modern reader may find the account artificial, but its substance aligns with the apostolic preaching. The First Gospel exhibits two primary tendencies. On one hand, it includes, in addition to the Markan narrative, a substantial collection of Jesus' sayings, organized to create a cohesive account of his teaching. It is presented as a new gospel.\nThe law given by the messianic king is alluded to only slightly in the apostolic preaching, as seen. The incorporation of this new material modifies the character of Christianity presented. It is not so much a gospel of \"realized eschatology\" as a new and higher code of ethics. This change was natural, as when it became necessary to readjust the Christian outlook to the indefinite postponement of the second advent and judgment, the church had to organize itself as a permanent society living the life of the redeemed people of God in an unredeemed world. Everything in the tradition of Jesus' teaching that could provide guidance for the conduct of the community in this situation came to be included.\nMatthew holds unique value. In fact, Matthew is no longer in the pure sense a \"gospel.\" It combines kerygma with didache. If we consider the book as a whole, the element of didache prevails. Conversely, Matthew compensates for this shift in emphasis with a marked development of \"futurist eschatology.\" The expectation of the second advent holds a larger place in this Gospel than in any other. We could summarize the distinctively Matthean view of the gospel as follows: Christ came as Messiah in fulfillment of prophecy; however, his messianic activity at his first coming primarily involved the exposure of the new and higher law by which his people should live until his second coming. This line of thought significantly influenced the emergence of popular Christianity in the second century.\nThe Gospels in Luke show a more subtle change. Described as a human wonder-worker, friend and lover of men, especially those without the Law, and the ideal for Christian conduct. This is no more than implied in the kerygma's description of him as \"going about doing good because God was with him.\" It provides a necessary and valuable supplement to the Markan image of the strong Son of God and the Matthean image of the royal lawgiver. However, it represents a certain modification of the original perspective. A rationalized and humanitarian rendering of the document known as the Didache or Teaching of the Twelve Apostles, which has a special affinity with the didactic portions of the First Gospel.\nThe Gospel, designed to appeal to the average man of feeling. The exceptional powers of sympathetic imagination and literary expression possessed by this evangelist make his work the most effective of all as a human and secular approach to the \u201cJesus of history.\u201d However, it does not lie on the main classical line of development from the apostolic preaching.\n\nFor brevity and emphasis, I have perhaps exaggerated the differences between Mark and the other Synoptic Gospels. The Gospels of Matthew and Luke do fall within the general scheme of the kerygma, though they subtly alter its perspective. It is in the Fourth Gospel that we return to the main line of development which runs through Mark from the original apostolic preaching, though here the eschatological framework has been altered.\nThe criticism of the last century was notably at fault for assuming the line ran from Mark through Matthew and Luke to John. In some important respects, Matthew and Luke represent sidetracks from the main line. I will have to return to the Fourth Gospel in the last lecture.\n\nThe fourfold Gospel taken as a whole is an expression of the original apostolic preaching. The early church was well aware of this. The Muratorian canon, likely representing the work of Hippolytus, the dissenting Bishop of Rome around the end of the second century, justifies the presence of four separate Gospels in the New Testament's canon with these terms:\n\nThe Gospels\nAlthough various principles are taught in the several Gospel books, this makes no difference.\nThe facts concerning the nativity, passion, resurrection, and disciples' converse with the savior are declared by one governing Spirit in all, as embodied in the four Gospels, which represent the original apostolic preaching of the \"saving facts\" and are accepted as authoritative by the church. I have not considered in these lectures the question of the historical value of the Gospels as a record of facts, which is aside from their immediate purpose. However, I would observe that the latest developments in gospel criticism have shifted the problem of historicity. We are not to think of the Gospels solely as historical records.\nThe apostolic preaching in the Gospels served as the primary source, acting as a preservative of the tradition that conveyed facts. The closer we are to the kerygma in the Gospels, the closer we are to the fountainhead of the tradition. There never existed a tradition formed by dry historical interest in the facts as facts. From the beginning, the facts were preserved in memory and tradition as elements in the gospel which the church proclaimed.\n\nThis means we cannot find in the Gospels (except by accident, such as in Mark xiv. 51-52) bare matter of fact unaffected by the interpretation borne by the facts in the kerygma. However, it also means that wherever the Gospels keep close to the matter.\nAnd form of the kerygia, there we are in touch with a tradition coeval with the church itself. For, as we have seen, a comparison of Paul and Acts enables us to trace the essential elements in the apostolic preaching to a very early date indeed. The history of Jesus, even as history, was of decisive importance for the tradition, because in the preaching the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus were held to be the climax of all history, the coming of the kingdom of God. I believe that a sober and instructed criticism of the Gospels justifies the belief that in their central and dominant tradition they represent the testimony of those who stood nearest to the facts, and whose life and outlook had been molded by them.\n\nPaul and John\n\nIn the last lecture, we traced one line of development in early Christian thought.\nThe development from the original apostolic preaching; that is, which began with an eschatological valuation of past facts, such as the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, resulting in the production of distinctively Christian literature known as Gospels. We must now turn once more to the primitive kerygma, with special attention to that part attributing an eschatological significance to present facts.\n\nWe have seen that the apostolic preaching, according to Acts 2:1-21, included an appeal to the presence and work of the Holy Spirit in the church as evidence that the age of fulfillment had dawned, and that Jesus Christ was its Lord.\n\n\"This is that which was spoken by the prophet. . . I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh. . . He being exalted at the right hand of God, and received from the Father the promise of the Holy Spirit, he has poured out this which you now see and hear.\"\nThe promise of the Holy Spirit from the Father has been received, and what you see and hear includes an assurance that those joining the Christian community receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. In other forms of the kerygma in Acts, there is no such explicit reference to the Spirit in the church, except in v. 32, which likely belongs to a secondary doublet of the story given in iii-iv. Paul does not expressly state that the gift of the Spirit was part of what he proclaimed as gospel. However, in Acts and epistles alike, it is clear that the fact of life in the Spirit is presupposed. The primitive church, in proclaiming its gospel to the world, offered its own fellowship and experience as the realization of the gospel. This is essential.\nIn the Christian experience, the early believers were confident they possessed supernatural blessings foretold by prophets. Impressed by psychical phenomena like faith healing, second sight, speaking in tongues, and the like, which emerged at Pentecost and accompanied Christianity's spread beyond Judea, there is no reason to doubt their reality. Paul himself declares his missionary work was accomplished \"in the power of signs and wonders, in the power of the Holy Spirit\" (Rom. xv.19), and he regards \"works of power, gifts of healing, various kinds of tongues\" (1 Cor. xii.28) as normal in the church's life.\nThe sufficient records of similar phenomena at other times of religious \"revival,\" not only within Christianity, justify the view that they are usual accompaniments of religious emotion raised to a certain pitch of intensity. However, it is clear that behind them lay, as Paul saw, a new quality of life, with which this intense emotion was associated. The naive interest of the author of Acts in the miraculous should not prevent us from recognizing that he is in fact describing a corporate life which had this new quality. One thing he definitely sets forth as the result of life in the Spirit, namely, the social unity created by it, which expressed itself alike in a remarkably intimate fellowship in worship and in the sharing of needs and resources. For this special type of social unity, Paul found the\nThe fitting expression is \"the fellowship of the Holy Spirit\" (2 Cor. xiii. 13, Phil. ii. 1). The phrase is his; the thing was there from the outset. His critical analysis of \"gifts of the Spirit\" (1 Cor. xii-xiv), which results in giving a relatively low place to abnormal phenomena and exalting to the highest places moral and intellectual endowments, and, above all, agape, love or charity, is a genuinely scientific estimate of the situation as it was from the beginning. This does not mean a tempering of the supernatural character of 1 Acts ii. 44-47, iv. 32-37. It is noteworthy that each of the accounts of the \"communism\" of the primitive church, which are thought to emanate from separate sources, is given as the immediate sequel to an account of the descent of the Holy Spirit.\n\nPaul and John\nthe primitive Christian experience. It is a recognition that\n\n(Note: The text appears to be complete and does not require cleaning, as there are no apparent OCR errors or meaningless content. However, if the text is part of a larger document, it may be necessary to check the context to ensure that the entire text is relevant and does not contain any irrelevant or redundant information.)\nThe essential quality of the supernatural, as revealed in Christ, was not reflected upon by the primitive church, which enjoyed the fellowship of the Holy Spirit and appealed to its manifest work as evidence of the dawn of the new age, yet did not embody a clear doctrine of fellowship in its preaching. Such a doctrine first appears in the epistles of Paul.\n\nPaul reflected deeply upon the new life realized in the Christian community. It is possible that before his conversion, his attention was arrested by the free, joyful, and enthusiastic fellowship of these sectaries. However, upon becoming a Christian, he fully accepted the belief of the primitive disciples that this new life was a manifestation of the Holy Spirit. The miraculous unity of the fellowship,\nhe  believed,  was  the  creation  of  the  Spirit,  \u201c  for \nin  one  Spirit  were  we  all  baptized  into  one  body  \u201d \n( i  Cor.  xii.  13);  and  the  diversity  of  gifts,  by  the \nsame  Spirit,  was  divinely  intended  as  the  equip- \n98  THE  APOSTOLIC  PREACHING \nment  of  members  of  the  body  for  function  in  its \nlife.  He  also  believed,  as  is  implied  in  the  citation \nof  prophecy  in  Acts  ii.  17-21,  that  this  life  in  the \nSpirit  marked  the  church  as  being  the  true  \u201c  Israel \nof  God  \u201d  in  its  final,  \u201c  eschatological  \u201d  manifesta\u00ac \ntion  (Gal.  vi.  15-16).  But  his  reflection  upon \nthis  idea  led  him  to  a  more  profound  interpreta\u00ac \ntion  of  it.  In  order  to  appreciate  it  we  must  give \nsome  consideration  to  the  background  of  the \nidea. \nThe  idea  of  a  supernatural  messianic  com\u00ac \nmunity  developed  in  Jewish  prophecy  and  apoc\u00ac \nalypse.  We  may  find  it  already  in  Isaiah\u2019s \ndoctrine  of  the  remnant: \nIt shall come to pass, that he who is left in Zion, and he who remains in Jerusalem, shall be called holy, everyone that is written among the living in Jerusalem. When the Lord shall have washed away the filth of the daughters of Zion, and shall have purged the blood of Jerusalem from the midst thereof, by the spirit of judgment and by the spirit of burning. The Lord will create over the whole habitation of Zion, and over her assemblies, a cloud and smoke by day and the shining of a flaming fire by night. [Isa. iv. 3-5]\n\nEzekiel pictures the emergence of this ideal Israel in the figure of the resurrection of the dry bones:\n\nThus saith the Lord God: Behold, I will open your graves, and cause you to come up out of your graves, O my people. I will put my spirit into you, and ye shall live. [Ezek. xxxvii. 12-14]\nIn Malachi, the remnant idea appears in a strongly eschatological context: Then those who feared the Lord spoke one with another; and the Lord hearkened and heard, and a book of remembrance was written before him, for those who feared the Lord and thought upon his name. And they shall be mine, says the Lord of hosts, in the day when I act, even a peculiar treasure. ... For behold, the day comes, it burns as a furnace, and all that work wickedness shall be stubble; and the day that comes shall burn them up, says the Lord of hosts, leaving them neither root nor branch. But to you who fear my name shall the sun of righteousness arise with healing in his wings. (Malachi 3:16-18)\n\nIn the book of Daniel, the ideal Israel appears as \"the people of the saints of the Most High.\"\nThe Son of Man identified with the \"Son of Man\" in Daniel's vision, to whom the kingdom is given (7.13-14, 22-27). In the similitudes of Enoch, the \"congregation of the righteous,\" also known as \"the elect\" and \"the holy,\" appear with the elect, righteous, or holy one, who is also called the Son of Man:\n\nFrom the beginning, the Son of Man was hidden, and the Most High preserved him in the presence of his might. He was revealed to the elect, and the congregation of the elect and holy shall be sown. All the elect shall stand before him on that day. And the Lord of Spirits will abide over them, and with that Son of Man they shall eat, lie down, and rise up forever and ever. They shall have been clothed with garments of glory.\nthe garments of life from the Lord of Spirits; and your garments shall not grow old, nor your glory pass away before the Lord of spirits. (Enoch lxii. 7-8, 14-16)\n\nIt is unnecessary to point out how much of the imagery and ideas of such passages as these, which could be greatly multiplied, reappear in various parts of the New Testament.\n\nFor Paul, with his strongly eschatological background of thought, the belief that the church was the \"people of the saints of the Most High,\" now revealed in the last days, carried with it the corollary that all that prophecy and apocalypse had asserted of the supernatural messianic community was fulfilled in the church. But the eschatological scheme of the apocalypses had been profoundly disturbed by the fact that the Messiah had come and the kingdom of God had been established.\nThe Messiah had passed into the eternal order, yet his followers still lived \"in the flesh.\" How could it be true that the prophecies were fulfilled, speaking of the congregation of the righteous being transfigured into the glory of an immortal life? Paul found the answer through a restatement in more thoroughgoing terms of the unity between the Messiah and the messianic community. Christ was Son of God \"according to the Spirit of holiness.\" The same Spirit dwelt in his church. Thus, \"the communion of the Holy Spirit\" was also \"the communion of the Son of God\" (1 Cor. 1:9). It was not enough to say that Christ and his church shared the same Spirit.\nbeing exalted to the right hand of God, had \"poured forth\" the Spirit. The presence of the Spirit in the church is the presence of the Lord: \"the Lord is the Spirit\" (2 Cor. iii. 17). Thus, the \"one body\" which the one Spirit created is the body of Christ. To be \"in the Spirit\" is to be \"in Christ,\" that is, a member of the body of Christ. The personality of Christ receives, so to speak, an extension in the life of his body on earth. Those \"saving facts,\" the death and resurrection of Christ, are not merely particular facts of past history, however decisive in their effect; they are re-enacted in the experience of the church. If Christ died to this world, so have the members of his body; if he has risen into newness of life, so have they (Rom. vi. 4).\nbeing risen from the dead, they die no more; if God has glorified him, he has also glorified them (Rom. 6:8-9; 8:29-30). They are righteous, holy, glorious, immortal, according to the prophecies, with the righteousness, holiness, glory, and immortality which are his in full reality, and are theirs in the communion of his body \u2014 \u201cin Christ.\u201d\n\nThis is the basis of Paul\u2019s so-called \u201cChrist-mysticism.\u201d It is noteworthy that as his interest in the speedy advent of Christ declines, as it demonstrably does after the time when he wrote i Corinthians, the \u201cfuturist eschatology\u201d of his earlier phase is replaced by this \u201cChrist-mysticism.\u201d The hope of glory yet to come remains as a background of thought, but the foreground is more and more occupied by the contemplation of all the riches of divine grace.\n\"enjoyed here and now by those who are in Christ Jesus. \"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus, who has blessed us with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places in Christ!\"\"This was the true solution of the problem presented to the church by the disappointment of its naive expectation that the Lord would immediately appear; not the restless and impatient straining after signs of his coming which turned faith into fantasy and enthusiasm into fanaticism; but a fuller realization of all the depths and heights of the supernatural life here and now. The prayer of the church as taught by Paul was no longer, \u201cLet grace come and let this world pass away. O Lord, come! \u201d but \u201cto be.\"\"\n\n10 See my article, \u201cThe Mind of Paul: Change and Development,\u201d in the Bulletin of the John Rylands Library, Vol. XVIII, Paul and John, p. 105.\nstrengthened by his Spirit in the inner man; that Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith, that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may be strong to apprehend with all saints what is the breadth and length and depth and height, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled unto all the fullness of God.\n\nThis transformation of eschatology into mysticism (if that is the right word) had consequences in the practical sphere. The thought of judgment to come may provide a powerful motive for ethical conduct, and the exhortation to watch and pray lest the judgment day come upon you like a thief in the night is never altogether out of place. But an exclusive concentration of attention upon the ethical implications of eschatology may overlook its deeper significance.\n\nThere is a certain tension or even contradiction between eschatology and ethics. To be sure, the thought of judgment to come may provide a powerful motive for ethical conduct, and the exhortation to watch and pray lest the judgment day come upon you like a thief in the night is never altogether out of place. But an exclusive concentration of attention upon the ethical implications of eschatology may overlook its deeper significance. The ultimate goal of the Christian life is not merely to avoid sin and earn rewards in the next world, but to be transformed into the image of Christ and to experience the love of God in this life and the next.\n\nTherefore, while it is important to remember the reality of judgment and the need for ethical conduct, it is equally important to focus on the deeper spiritual realities of the Christian faith. We must not reduce our faith to a mere set of rules and regulations, but must strive to deepen our relationship with God through prayer, study, and obedience. Only then can we truly appreciate the breadth and length and depth and height of God's love for us, and be filled unto all the fullness of God.\nThe glory to come obscures the finer aspects of morality in the epistles of Paul. The doctrine of the church as the body of Christ, the sphere of divine grace and supernatural life, forms the foundation for a strong, positive, and constructive social ethic. If Christ lives in his church, then love shown to the brethren is a part of communion with Christ, which is life eternal. \"Be of one mind; have the same love. Do nothing in strife or vain glory, but in lowliness of mind think each other better than yourself.\"\nPaul and John (Phil. 2:3-6). Here, ethics develop directly from \"Christ-mysticism.\" Paul's reflection on the saving facts of Christ's death and resurrection leads him to the love of God as the supreme principle exhibited in these facts. His reflection on the Spirit and charismata, however, is not mentioned in the provided text.\n\nPaul's thoughts among yourselves as you have in your communion with Christ Jesus, who, being in the form of God, humbled himself and became obedient even unto death; for this reason God exalted him and gave him the name above every name. (Philippians 2:3-6) This translation, which follows that of Erich Haupt in Meyer's Commentary, seems to me to give the correct sense of this difficult sentence. The current rendering does violence to the Greek.\nThe gifts of the Spirit in the church lead him to love or charity, the greatest of all charismata \u2014 \"the love of God shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Spirit given to us\" (Rom. 5:5) \u2014 and the root principle of all morality. The true supernatural life, now brought into being by Christ, is the life distinguished by the \"fruits of the Spirit\" as described in Gal. 5:20, and exhibiting the dispositions set forth in the hymn of charity in 1 Cor. xiii.\n\nIt is in the epistles of Paul that full justice is done for the first time to the principle of \"realized eschatology\" which is vital to the whole kerygma. That supernatural order of life.\nThe apocalyptists' fantasies of an actual fact are now described in this form. In its final form, the conclusion of life remains a matter of hope, but the earnest expectation of the inheritance is a present possession. An earnest expectation is a sample of goods guaranteed to be of the same kind and quality as the main consignment. In masterful fashion, Paul claims the entire territory of the church's life as the field of the eschatological miracle.\n\nIn the Fourth Gospel, the crude eschatological elements in the kerygma are quite refined away. The eschatological outlook survives in the anticipation of a day when those in the tombs will hear the voice of the Son of God and come forth to the resurrection of life or judgment (v. 28-29). But the evangelist refines these elements.\nlist points out that this is not the resurrection to which the gospel primarily refers. \"I know,\" says Martha, \"that he will rise at the resurrection on the last day\"; and Jesus replies, \"I am the resurrection and the life\" (John 11:24-26). Paul and John 109. He who is alive and believes on me will never die (xi. 24-26). That is to say, eternal life is a present and permanent possession of believers in Christ. Again, in the farewell discourse, Jesus is made to promise that he will \"come again,\" but it is made clear that this promise of a second coming is realized in the presence of the Paraclete, the Holy Spirit, in the life of the church (xiv. 16-19, xxi. 12-16). The evangelist, therefore, is deliberately subordinating the \"futurist\" element in the eschatology of the early church to the \"realized eschatology\" which, as I have explained.\nThe distinctive and controlling factor in the kerygma was trying to show, from the first, the theme of life eternal. This refers to the life of the age to come, in eschatological language, but life eternal as realized here and now through the presence of Christ by his Spirit in the church. In this gospel, eschatology is more fully sublimated into a distinctive kind of mysticism. Its underlying philosophy, like that of the Epistle to the Hebrews, is of a Platonic cast, which is always congenial to the mystical outlook. The ultimate reality is not figured, as in Jewish apocalyptic, as the last term in the historical series, but is conceived as an eternal order of being, of which the phenomenal order in history is the shadow or symbol. This eternal order is the kingdom of God.\nGod, into whom Christians have been born again, by water and the Spirit (3 John 3-8). That is to say, life is real for them; they are nurtured by the real bread and abide in the real vine. This is the Johannine equivalent for the primitive Christian declaration that the age of fulfillment has dawned, or the Pauline declaration that if any man is in Christ, there is a new creation. Its organic relation to primitive eschatological concepts can be illustrated in various ways.\n\nIn prophecy, the promise of the future was associated with the knowledge or vision of God. When Jeremiah speaks of the new covenant by which the true Israel of the future shall be constituted, he gives as its outstanding feature, \"They shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, says the Lord\" (Jeremiah 31:34).\n\"Again, in Isaiah III: \"Awake, awake, put on your strength, O Zion; put on your beautiful garments, Jerusalem! You were sold for nothing, and you shall be redeemed without money. Therefore, my people shall know my name: they shall know in that day that I am he.\" (Isaiah III: 14) The significance of such declarations becomes clearer when we observe that while the prophets repeatedly speak of the knowledge God has of his people, their knowledge of God is almost always the object of prayer, aspiration, command, or promise. Ideally, Israel knows God as God knows him; but actually, such knowledge is, in any full sense, reserved for the glorious future. The Fourth Evangelist takes up the idea and declares that now, as never before, authentic knowledge of God is available for men in union with Christ, the Son who knows the Father as he is known.\"\nHe is known by him, and such knowledge is eternal life (15). The language of the Fourth Gospel approaches that of contemporary Hellenistic mysticism, which taught that by gnosis, man might enter into union with God, and so become divine and immortal. The evangelist's intention was to reinterpret the Christian gospel in terms agreeable to the most elevated kind of religious experience outside Christianity, recognizing that in it there was something of the light that lighteth every man that cometh into the world. However, it would be a mistake to suppose that the Johannine doctrine of eternal life through knowledge of God is merely a variety of the contemporary doctrine.\nThe knowledge of God, which the evangelist speaks of, is a function of the Christian fellowship. Paul recognized the marks of the supernatural messianic community in the Christian church, insofar as it was the body of Christ. John teaches that knowledge of God and eternal life are enjoyed by those who are united to Christ. To be united to Christ means to be the object of his love in laying down his life for his friends, and in return to love him, trust and obey him, and to love all those who belong to him. This divine love was the power in Christ that brought eternal life within reach: \"God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish, but have everlasting life\" (iii.16). This agrees with the Pauline interpretation.\nThe character of the supernatural life given to the church: God commended his love, that Christ died for us, and that love is shed abroad in our hearts through the Holy Spirit. This is hardly anything but mysticism, but it is mysticism with a difference. It arises directly out of the primitive Christian valuation of the facts of history and experience as eschatological facts - that is, as the ultimate manifestation in time of the eternal counsel of God. John, however, takes a step beyond Paul. Paul, as we have seen, derives from the eschatological valuation of the church's life in the Spirit a \"Christ-mysticism\" which represents a conclusive reinterpretation of eschatology; and he also presents the death and resurrection of Jesus in their full meaning as eschatological facts. But of the life of Jesus he makes little, except as:\n\n\"The life of Jesus he makes little, except as...\" (unclear)\n\nTherefore, the text appears to be discussing the Christian belief in the supernatural nature of the church and the significance of historical and experiential facts within that belief system. The text compares and contrasts the perspectives of Paul and John on this topic, with Paul emphasizing the eschatological significance of the church's life in the Spirit and the death and resurrection of Jesus, and John taking a further step in interpreting the life of Jesus as an eschatological fact. The text is written in modern English and does not contain any ancient English or non-English languages. There are no OCR errors to correct.\nThe Apostolic Preaching in the Synoptic Gospels more justly represent the part of the kerygma that recounts the facts of Jesus' life as an integral part of the eschatological process. For John, Jesus' entire life is, in the fullest sense, a revelation of his glory. What was true of Christ's work in the church after his resurrection was already true of his words and actions in the flesh. By them, as truly as by his death and resurrection, he brought life and light into the world. John thus combines two distinct strains in the development of Christian thought: one that began with an eschatological evaluation of present experiences, and one that began with a similar evaluation of past history. Consequently, he has given his work the form of a narrative.\nIn the Fourth Gospel, we find the clear outline of the historical section of the kerygma, as in Acts x and xiii: John the Baptist's ministry, Jesus' anointing with the Holy Spirit, his teaching and works of mercy and power in Galilee, his ministry in Judea and Jerusalem, his arrest and trial before Pilate, crucifixion, burial, and resurrection. The close affinity of the Fourth Gospel with the apostolic preaching will be clearer if we analyze it similarly to our analysis of Mark. The theme of \"fulfillment,\" which in Mark is represented by the citations of prophecy at the gospel's beginning, is in John represented through its narrative.\nThe logos doctrine of the prologue describes the Word of the Lord. It is the Word that created the heavens and was rejected by His own. The prologue portrays this Word as the light that shines in the darkness, growing in intensity until all its rays converge on a point of blinding glory in the incarnation. The background idea can be traced to prophetic passages, such as Isaiah's promise: \"The Lord shall be unto thee an everlasting light, and thy God thy glory\" (Isaiah 60:19). This symbolism recurs throughout the apocalypses. It is not just that the prophets spoke words that are now fulfilled.\nThe event's verification lies in the great divine emergence of the Word, which historically struggled for utterance. This is a more profound rendering of the fulfillment of prophecy. The evangelist then records, in traditional manner, John the Baptist's ministry. His function, as in Mark, is to testify to the coming Messiah and the fact that he will \"baptize with Holy Spirit.\" For this purpose, the Messiah, again as in Mark, is \"anointed\" with Holy Spirit. The Baptist also bears witness to this. The theme of Christ's testimony is expanded here by the addition of several further witnesses who apply to him the traditional eschatological title \u2014 Messiah, Son of God, King of Israel.\nJesus speaks for himself, as in Mark and Paul (1 John 117). Following are stories of Jesus' miracles with accompanying discourses, explaining their meaning in the light of Johannean \"sublimated eschatology.\"\n\nThe miracle at Cana signifies the coming of a new order, which is to the old as wine to water. The cleansing of the temple foreshadows the new temple, which is the body of Christ (Mark 2:21). In the healings at Cana and Bethesda, Christ gives life, as in the healing of the blind man at Siloam, he gives light. In the feeding of the multitude, the bread is interpreted with the help of the symbol of the manna, which in Jewish tradition came to represent the spiritual food of the age to come. Christ in fact gives to the world the true [REALITY CHECK: The text appears to be complete and does not require cleaning. However, it is important to note that the term \"sublimated eschatology\" is a modern scholarly interpretation and may not have been used in the original text.]\nThe bread conveys eternal life. The church experienced the presence of the Lord in the communion of the Holy Spirit, which constituted the new life. The record is interspersed with sayings that emphasize the truth that in Jesus' historical ministry, \"the time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has drawn near.\" Thus, \"Do you not say, Four months, and then the harvest comes? [The harvest is an old prophetic symbol.] I say to you, lift up your eyes and behold, the fields: they are already white for harvest\" (iv. 35). Again, \"The hour is coming, and now is, when true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth\" (iv. 23). \"The hour is coming, and now is, when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God\" (iv. 30).\n\"Son of God, and those who hear will come to life\" (v. 25). This saying is illustrated on a grand scale in the story of the raising of Lazarus, which shows Christ as \"the resurrection and the life,\" through whom eternal life is a present possession and no longer a hope for the \"last day.\"\n\nLike Mark, John traces in the ministry the growing opposition to Jesus that led to his death. But he gives it a more profound interpretation. Since with Christ the eternal light has come into the world, to sin against the light is to be judged. And this is in fact the \"last judgment\" of which prophecy and apocalypse spoke, and which, if the coming of Christ is indeed the fulfillment of prophecy, must have taken place when he came. \"This is the judgment: that the Light has come into the world.\"\nAnd men loved darkness rather than light (iii. 19). Hence, when the opposition has reached its height, and Jesus stands in prospect of death, he can declare, \"Now is the judgment of this world; now is the prince of this world cast out\" (xii. 31). It is a more pointed and even more logical statement of the Pauline doctrine that in the death of Jesus, God condemned sin in the flesh and triumphed over principalities and powers. The eschatological idea of judgment has received a conclusive reinterpretation. As we approach the narrative of the passion, the place of the apocalyptic discourse in Mark is taken by the discourse in the upper room. In this discourse, as we have seen, the prediction of the second advent of Christ is interpreted in the sense of his presence in the church through his Spirit. The passion itself is set forth as the event through which this occurs.\nIn which Christ is more fully \"glorified\" than in the Apostolic Preaching, according to xii. 23-33, is because on the one hand, it is the most complete revelation of his love for his friends, and on the other hand, it is the means by which he finally effected the salvation of man. \"For their sakes I sanctify myself, that they also may be sanctified in reality\" (xvii. 19). In these words, the \"holiness,\" that is, the supernatural character, of the messianic community is directly related to the saving fact of Christ's death. The last words of his earthly life are, \"It is finished\" (xix. 30). They are an impressive statement of the conviction that in the life and death of Jesus, the whole counsel of God is fulfilled, as the eschatological valuation of these facts had implied.\nFrom the beginning. Finally, the resurrection is recorded, as in the other Gospels, and in agreement with the form of the kerygma. In the Fourth Gospel, it is not so much a new act in the drama of redemption, for the victory of Christ is already complete, and his glory already manifested in his life and death. It is narrated as the sign which seals for the disciples the reality of that which he has accomplished, and the finality of his person: \"Thomas said, My Lord and my God!\" In this profound restatement of the apostolic preaching, the Fourth Evangelist has succeeded in bringing into one picture those elements which, in its earlier forms, appear as past, present, and future. On the one hand, all that the church hoped for in the second coming of Christ is already given in its present experience of Christ.\nThrough the Spirit; and on the other hand, this present experience penetrates the record of the events that brought it into being, and reveals their deepest significance. \"The Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, and we beheld his glory.\" All the sense of finality that eschatology strove to express is in that amazing declaration, which is at once a comprehensive summary of the life of Jesus, and contains in itself all that the highest hopes of man can aspire to; for beyond the vision of God we cannot aspire. The work of Paul and John represents the most significant and far-reaching developments of the apostolic preaching in the New Testament. As we have seen, their writings, as well as those of other New Testament writers, betray a direct acquaintance with the traditional forms of the kerygma.\nThe way in which they all make use of certain guiding ideas and arrangements of these ideas, and formulas for expressing them. The primitive kerygma lived on. As the church produced a settled organization of its life, the content of the kerygma entered into the Rule of Faith, recognized by theologians of the second and third centuries as the presupposition of Christian theology. Out of the Rule of Faith in turn, the creeds emerged. The so-called Apostles\u2019 Creed in particular still betrays in its form and language its direct descent from the primitive apostolic preaching. At the same time, the kerygma exerted a controlling influence upon the shaping of the liturgy. While theology advanced from the positions established by Paul and John, the form and language of the church\u2019s worship adhered more closely to the primitive preaching.\nThe text is relatively clean and does not require extensive cleaning. I have removed unnecessary line breaks and extra spaces.\n\nThe closely forms of the kerygma are in some parts of the great liturgies of the church that we are still in most direct contact with the original apostolic preaching. In this survey of the apostolic preaching and its developments, two facts have come into view: first, that within the New Testament there is an immense range of variety in the interpretation given to the kerygma; and second, that in all such interpretation, the essential elements of the original kerygma are steadily kept in view. Indeed, the further we move from the primitive modes of expression, the more decisively is the central purport of it affirmed. With all the diversity of the New Testament writings, they form a unity in their proclamation of the one gospel. At a former stage of criticism, the study of the New Testament was vitalized by the.\nThe recognition of the individuality of its various writers and their teachings is essential in New Testament criticism. The results of this analytical stage are of permanent value. With these results in mind, we can now do fuller justice to the rich, many-sidedness of the central gospel expressed in the whole.\n\nI. The apostolic preaching\n\nThe present task of New Testament criticism, as it seems to me, is the task of synthesis. However, \"synthesis\" may not be the right word, as it may imply the creation of unity out of originally diverse elements. But in the New Testament, the unity is original. We have to explore, by a comparative study of the several writings, the common faith which evoked them and which they aimed at interpreting to an ever widening public.\n\nIt is this task which I have tried to plot out in these lectures. It should be evident that there\nRoom for great deal investigation at every point. Work done during present century, particularly since World War, provided fresh standpoints and illustrative material. New methods of gospel criticism and almost bewildering mass material from Jewish, Hellenistic, and Oriental sources. Study of Pauline and Johannine thought might resolve into study of religious eclecticism. As we master this mass material, instead of being mastered by it, it will enable us to define more precisely the meaning of terms employed by these teachers. I am convinced that\nThe result will bring the fundamental Christian message of Paul and John into more startlingly clear relief. I have done no more than allude to a further part of the task in these lectures: ascertaining the relation between the apostolic preaching and that of Jesus Christ himself. I have said something about it elsewhere. I believe it will be found that the primitive kerygma arises directly from Jesus' teaching about the kingdom of God and all that hangs upon it. However, it does only partial justice to the range and depth of his teaching and needs the Pauline and Johannine interpretations before it fully rises to the height of the great argument. It is in the Fourth Gospel, which in form and expression, as in form and expression, probably contains the most authentic echoes of the historical Jesus.\nIn The Parables of the Kingdom (London, Nisbet, 1935).\n\nThe Apostolic Preaching stands farthest from the original tradition and provides the most penetrating exposition of its central meaning. In conclusion, I would offer some brief reflections on the relation of this discussion to the preaching of Christianity in our own time.\n\nWhat do we mean by \"preaching the gospel\"? At various times and in different circles, the gospel has been identified with this or that element in the general complex of ideas broadly called Christian; with the promise of immortality, with a particular theory of the atonement, with the idea of \"the fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of man,\" and so forth. Historically speaking, what was the gospel at the beginning and during the New Testament period?\nI hope these lectures have in some measure defined the concept of Christianity in the first century, which was undoubtedly clear and relevant to human need. A well-known New Testament scholar has expressed the opinion that \"the modern man does not believe in any form of salvation known to ancient Christianity\" (18). It is indeed clear that the primitive formulation of the gospel in eschatological terms is as strange as it could be to our minds. It is no wonder that it has stirred up much controversy and taken a long time to reach the frank conclusion that the preaching of the early church, and of Jesus himself, took place in this strange world of thought. For many years, we strove against this conclusion. We tried to believe that criticism could not be right.\ncould  prune  away  from  the  New  Testament \nthose  elements  in  it  which  seemed  to  us  fantastic, \nand  leave  us  with  an  original  \u201c  essence  of  Christi\u00ac \nanity,\u201d  to  which  the  modern  man  could  say, \n\u201c  This  is  what  I  have  always  thought.\u201d  But  the \nattempt  has  failed.  At  the  center  of  it  all  lies \nthis  alien,  eschatological  gospel,  completely  out \nof  touch,  as  it  seems,  with  our  ways  of  thought. \nBut  perhaps  it  was  not  much  less  out  of  touch \nwith  the  thought  of  the  Hellenistic  world  to \nwhich  the  earliest  missionaries  appealed.  Paul \nat  least  found  that  the  gospel  had  in  it  an  element \n18  Kirsopp  Lake,  Landmarks  of  Early  Christianity ,  p.  77. \n128  THE  APOSTOLIC  PREACHING \nof  \u201c  foolishness  \u201d  and  \u201c  scandal  \u201d  for  his  public. \nBut  he  and  others  succeeded  in  reinterpreting  it \nto  their  contemporaries  in  terms  which  made  its \nessential  relevance  and  truth  clear  to  their  minds. \nIt is this process of reinterpretation that we have been studying. Some similar process is clearly demanded of the preachers of the gospel in our time. If the primitive \u201ceschatological\u201d gospel is remote from our thought, there is much in Paul and John which, as it stands, is almost equally remote, and their reinterpretations, profound and conclusive though they are, do not absolve us from our task.\n\nBut the attempt at reinterpretation is always in danger of becoming something quite different: that which Paul called \u201cpreaching another Jesus and another gospel.\u201d We have seen that the great thinkers of the New Testament period, while they worked out bold, even daring, ways of restating the original gospel, were so possessed by its fundamental convictions that their restatements are true to its first intention. Under all variations of form, they continued to affirm:\n\n19 \"But even if we or an angel from heaven should preach a gospel other than the one we preached to you, let them be under God\u2019s curse!\" Galatians 1:8 (NIV)\nThe real problem for the New Testament student is not whether specific events in Jesus' life are credibly reported or which saying is rightly attributed to him. Nor is it whether certain doctrines in Paul or John can be derived from Judaism or the \"mystery religions.\" Instead, it is whether the fundamental affirmations of the apostolic preaching are true and relevant. We cannot answer this question without understanding the preaching, nor can we understand it without painstaking study of the material.\nWithout answering which question, we cannot confidently claim the name of Christian for that which we preach. Selecting certain passages from the New Testament that seem to have a \u201cmodern\u201d ring and declaring these the \u201cpermanent element\u201d is not necessarily preaching the gospel. It is easy to be mistaken about the true meaning of passages that may strike us as congenial. Some of them may not be as \u201cmodern\u201d as they sound. The discipline of confronting the gospel of primitive Christianity, in those forms of statement which are least congenial to the modern mind, compels us to rethink, not only the gospel, but our own presuppositions.\n\nThe study of primitive Christianity is for this reason important.\nThe New Testament, from the standpoint I have indicated, is of extreme importance now. I do not suggest that the crude, early formulation of the gospel is our exclusive standard. It is only in the light of its development throughout the New Testament that we learn how much is implied in it. But I would urge that the study of the Synoptic Gospels should be more than an exercise in the historical critic's art of fixing the irreducible minimum of bare fact in the record; and that the study of Paul and John should be more than either a problem in comparative religion or the first chapter in a history of dogma. Gospels and epistles alike offer a field of study in which the labor of criticism and interpretation may initiate us into the \"many-sided wisdom\" which was contained in the apostolic preaching.\nThe writings of the Old Testament we call historical are in the Jewish canon reckoned among the prophets. The result of the work of the prophets of the eighth and seventh centuries BC was an outburst of historical composition. Other Oriental peoples had produced chronicles for a long time, which have a high value as a record of events. But the corpus of historical writings running from Joshua to the second Kings, and including also the narrative parts of the Pentateuch, is something different from a chronicle of events. It exhibits history as a unity, with a meaning that makes sense of all its parts.\nThe historical element in the Old Testament is not merely a collection of stories, but a history of the world, as Dr. Clement Webb explains. The unifying principle is the belief in the moral government of the world by a divine providence, which manifests itself in various ways in the experiences of the people of God. Recorded history is where this divine purpose is being worked out, but it does not fully reveal God's purpose in the prophetic view. This revelation will not be given until.\nThe last term in the historical series has come into view \u2014 eschatology and history, 137: the day of the Lord. It is only prophetic foresight of the day of the Lord that makes it possible to see the whole of history as divinely governed. It seems probable that the idea of the day of the Lord is a part of primitive Hebrew mythology. Certainly, it is older than the earliest prophets whose works we possess. But if so, we must suppose that in popular mythology, the idea stood for an unconditioned and unrelated catastrophe, supervening incalculably upon the course of history. The prophets strenuously endeavored to give the idea an ethical and rational meaning by relating it to the course of events in the past and to the tendencies of the present. It was thus not simply one more deity but a concept signifying the divine intervention in history.\nTo predict an event, though of a different order, but the consummation of the whole series of events. Prophecy succeeded apocalypse. It works with the prophetic scheme of history, but with certain differences. In particular, it virtually gives up the attempt to recognize divine meaning in the present. The mighty hand of the Lord is to be seen in events of the remote past, and will again be seen in the future, but in the present, the power of evil obscures it. This does not mean that events have escaped the divine control. \"The Most High ruleth in the kingdom of men,\" but his rule is hidden. This change of perspective, which can be sufficiently accounted for by the prolonged subjection and sufferings of the faithful, serves to give greater emphasis to the belief, which, as we have seen,\nThe belief of the prophets was that only in the day of the Lord will the divine meaning and purpose of history come to light. At the same time, the radical contrast of \"this age\" and \"the age to come,\" which now begins to be expressed, serves to bring out the supra-historical character of the day of the Lord. If on one side it is an event - the last term in the series of events - on the other side, it is not an event in history at all, for it is described in terms which remove it from the conditions of time and space. In one sense, this is no doubt a reversion to pre-prophetic mythology; but it brings into bold relief an essential character of the idea, which it bears even in the prophets. The eschaton, even though it may be conceived in terms of the devastation of Israel.\nThe event of Assyria, or the glorious return of Judah from Babylonian exile, is not a simple sequence of one event following another, as the giving of the Law followed the exodus, or the return followed the Babylonian captivity, with the difference that no further event will follow in turn. It is such that no other event could follow or need follow, because in it the whole purpose of God is revealed and fulfilled.\n\nIn prophecy and apocalypse alike, the divine event, the eschaton, is always \"round the corner.\" The prophet never conceives of himself as standing midway in the course of history, surveying the past through its centuries of change, and foreseeing the future through a similar series of changes. It is not true that either prophets or apocalyptists write, in this sense, \"reversed history\" or an imaginary narrative.\nThe idea that writers like Mr. Shaw or Mr. Wells foresaw future events is an illusion based on two facts. First, later exegesis found the fulfillment of prophecy in a series of events, often covering a long span of time. Although we have disavowed such exegesis, its ghost may still haunt us. Second, the apocalypses are frequently attributed to personages who lived before the actual composition of the books, and who are represented as surveying the actual course of history through centuries, in the guise of predictions. Although we recognize the fiction for what it is, it is not easy to wholly escape its effects on the mind.\n\nActually, the prophet foresees only one thing: the day of the Lord, the escape. This statement needs to be qualified only so far: that some prophecies may refer to literal escapes from physical danger rather than apocalyptic events.\nProphets or apocalyptists emphasize the nearness of the eschaton by giving a turn to contemporary events, melting them, after a brief development, into the mythical or supernatural traits of the day of the Lord. In the eschaton, the whole meaning is concentrated, which, if history were to go on, might be diffused throughout a long process. In this sense, the prophetic view may be said to \"foreshorten\" history; for so it appears to us, who know that many centuries elapsed after the debacle of Judah in 586 BC, or the Seleucid persecution of 168 BC, which were the immediate prelude to the End for Jeremiah and the author of Daniel respectively.\n\nIn reality, time measurement is irrelevant here. An absolute end to history, whether it be conceived as coming soon or late, is no more than a concept.\nA fiction designed to express the reality of theology within history. If the maxim, \"The world history is the world judgment,\" is to be maintained in its full sense, then there must be an element of finality in history. If, as Solon said, a man may not be pronounced happy until he is dead, or as Aristotle put it, happiness can be predicated only of a \"complete life,\" then similarly, the significance of history can be estimated only when history is over and can be looked at as a closed whole. It is this that is symbolized in the myth of the last judgment, the end of the world.\n\nSince no man has ever experienced the end of history, it can be expressed only in the form of fantasy.\n\nWhen our modern apocalyptists set forth the shape of things to come, their imaginative skill is exemplified.\nThe text is already clean and readable. No need for any cleaning.\n\n\"This is used to produce a fictitious narrative which looks so like history as we know it that we almost forget that it has no closer relation to actuality than the vision of Jewish apocalyptists. The form of forecasting a process rather than a single event laden with meaning does not alter the fact that we are dealing with symbol and not with actuality in one case as in the other. The time scale is irrelevant to that which has never received embodiment in the forms of time and space and therefore has no existence in the temporal order. Where the prophets chiefly differ from our modern writers about the future is not so much in predicting an early end of the world, but in clothing the coming event in forms which do not properly belong to time at all, but to eternity. They thereby imply that the teleology of history is not purely immanent, but is transcendent.\"\nThe day of the Lord is determined by the purpose of a God who transcends the temporal order. We can now consider more closely the character attributed to this day. In the first place, it is supernatural. The supernatural factor is not absent from any part of history, for in the prophetic view, all history is the field of divine action. But the eschaton is manifestly supernatural. The hidden rule of God in history is revealed: \"Then his kingdom shall appear throughout all his creation\" (Assumption of Moses, x. 1). After long centuries of waiting, mankind shall see the glory of the Lord.\n\nSecond, since the will of God is absolute right, the day of the Lord will be marked by the overthrow of the powers of evil, and judgment upon the sins of men.\n\nThird, since the will of God for man is perfect, the day of the Lord will bring fulfillment and restoration.\nThe day of the Lord brings a new, glorious and endless life to those whose will is fulfilled. In all these respects, the day of the Lord is the \"fulfillment\" of history. Although it belongs to the realm of the \"wholly other,\" it is not alien or unrelated to recorded events. History derives meaning and reality from that which is other than history. The real, inner, and eternal meaning strives for expression in history and is completely expressed in the eschaton, which is therefore organically related to history. However, it is unique and unlike any other event because it is final. It is not as though the Creator had created history only to abandon it.\narbitarily fixed a certain date as the \u201czero hour\u201d of his world, so that events which might conceivably have followed it are not permitted to happen. It is such that nothing more could happen in history, because the eternal meaning which gives reality to history is now exhausted. To conceive any further event on the plane of history would be like drawing a check on a closed account.\n\nAt the same time, the day of the Lord is not the end of things in the sense that it negates the values inherent in history, so that it might be conceived as a kind of nirvana or holy nothingness in which the illusions of the time process are finally laid to rest. On the contrary, the values implicit in history are here fully affirmed. They are not destroyed but sublimated. The day of the Lord brings with it new heavens and a new earth.\nThe eschaton, or ultimate, transforms human nature into the likeness of \"the angels of God.\" The eschaton is the end of history but the beginning of the \"age to come,\" which is not history but the pure realization of those values that our empirical life in time partly affirms and partly denies. This can only be described in imagery of a sensuous type, which often gives the appearance of being a crude materialism. For example, one of the most common images is that of the heavenly banquet. But some at least of the apocalyptists knew that the kingdom of God is not eating and drinking, but righteousness, peace, and joy; that is, it is the pure reality which we partly apprehend in the most exalted moments of our human experience in time.\n\nIn the New Testament, the apocalyptic imagery includes:\n\n- The four horsemen of the Apocalypse\n- The thousand-year reign of Christ\n- The new heaven and new earth\n- The lake of fire and brimstone for the wicked\n- The new Jerusalem descending from heaven\n\nThese images should be understood symbolically rather than literally. They represent the triumph of God's kingdom over evil and the establishment of a perfect world order.\nThe symbolism of the Old Testament recurs freely, but with a profound difference. The divine event is dared to have happened. Consider the following propositions from all parts of the New Testament:\n\n\"The kingdom of God has come upon you\" (Acts 2:16).\n\"This is that which was spoken by the prophet\" (Acts 2:16).\n\"If any man is in Christ, there is a new creation\" (2 Corinthians 5:17).\n\"He has rescued us from the domain of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of the Son He loves\" (Colossians 1:13).\n\"We are being transformed from glory to glory\" (2 Corinthians 3:18).\n\"He has saved us by the washing of rebirth and the renewing of the Holy Spirit\" (Titus 3:5).\n\"Born again, not of corruptible seed but of incorruptible\" (1 Peter 1:23).\n\"The darkness is passing away, and the true light is already shining. It is the last hour\" (1 John 2:17).\nThe eschaton has entered history for New Testament writers in general. The hidden rule of God has been revealed, and the age to come has come. The gospel of primitive Christianity is a gospel of realized eschatology. In other words, the historical crisis, constituted by the ministry, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, is interpreted in terms of a mythological concept, which had been made by the prophets into a sublime symbol for the divine meaning and purpose of history in its fullness. The characteristics of the day of the Lord as described in prophecy and apocalypse are boldly transferred to the historical crisis. First, it is fulfillment. \"The time is fulfilled\" is the declaration Mark inscribes over the event.\nThe whole gospel record declares, \"When the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son.\" Paul also states, \"The frequent appeals to the fulfillment of prophecy, which the modern reader is likely to find tedious and unconvincing, are a piecemeal assertion of the one great fact that the meaning of history is now summed up. We mistake them if we suppose that the writers would have been equally interested in any prediction of any casual event that happened to be fulfilled. That which the prophets foresaw was the day of the Lord, and that alone. The fulfillment of prophecy means that the day has dawned.\n\nSecond, the supernatural has manifestly entered history. The arm of the Lord is bared. \"The blind see, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and to the poor good tidings are proclaimed.\"\nThe miracles stories of the Gospels correspond closely with the symbols which the prophets used to depict the supernatural character of the age to come. They may be regarded once again as a piecemeal assertion of the one great fact that with the appearance of Christ the age of miracles arrived. The story of his ministry is told as a realized apocalypse.\n\nThird, this open manifestation of the power of God is the overthrow of the powers of evil.\n\n\"If I by the finger of God cast out demons, then the kingdom of God has come upon you,\" says Jesus in the Synoptic Gospels. The Christ of the Fourth Gospel, on the eve of his death, declares, \"Now is the prince of this world cast out.\" Paul says that in the cross God triumphed over the powers and principalities.\n\n(Note: The text does not require extensive cleaning as there are no major issues with it. However, I have removed the publication information and the reference to the author's article as they are not necessary for understanding the text.)\nThemes of principalities and powers recur in the New Testament. Fourteenth, this is the judgment of the world. In the death of Christ, Paul says, God manifested his righteousness and condemned sin in the flesh. According to the Fourth Gospel, this is the judgment: the Light has come into the world with the incarnation of the Word, and men loved darkness rather than light. Finally, eternal life, the \"life of the age to come,\" is now realized in experience. Christ is risen from the dead, the first fruits of those who sleep, and we are raised with him in newness of life. He who believes has life eternal. I have done no more than offer a few pointers toward a conclusion that must be clear to all who study the New Testament with the language and ideas of Jewish eschatology in mind \u2014 the Apostolic Preaching.\nThe writers have deliberately, boldly, and consistently applied those ideas and language to the facts of Jesus Christ's ministry, death, and resurrection. This implies that in these facts, all that the prophets meant by the day of the Lord is realized. There is here a divine event, unique and decisive, in which God's purpose in history is made manifest.\n\nWhen a concept hitherto belonging to the realm of mythology is declared to be realized in history, it is itself remolded by the facts. How far the fantastic imagery of apocalyptic was taken literally by its authors or readers remains impossible to say. But when that imagery is applied to actual facts, its symbolic character becomes plain, and some elements in it are tacitly dropped as inappropriate.\nThe apocalyptic image of the sun darkening and the material universe collapsing is not taken up, except in the greatly reduced form of supernatural darkness and an earthquake, represented as accompanying the crucifixion and resurrection of the Lord. However, all allowance made, it remains true that the New Testament writers intend with full seriousness to represent the coming of Christ as the unique divine event to which prophecy and apocalyptic referred.\n\nOne change necessarily follows when the divine event passes from the realm of mythology to the realm of history. While its character of finality remains, in the sense that it is decisive, it is no longer a matter of mythology.\nThe text cannot be final as it is not bounded in time. Time, as Plato noted, is the moving image of eternity, and any event within history is followed by others. The coming of Christ marked a new historical period, but the New Testament writers viewed it as not only the eschaton, but also the beginning of a new order, superior to the historical. Paul went so far as to:\n\n\"regard it from the point of view of previous history, but also the beginning of a new order, superior to the historical.\"\nIn Christ, we are dead to the world - that is, to the historical order. God has raised us with Him in the heavenly places (Colossians 3:3). This new life is secret. Though we still live the earthly life on the empirical plane, we no longer live \"according to the flesh.\" We dwell today as children of a second birth, like a strange people left on earth. The end of the world has come, and we all reside in this new relation to the historical order.\nAfter a judgment day. eschatology and history 153. This view of the historical status of the events comprised in the coming of Christ introduces us at once to what Professor Gerhard Kittel calls \u201cthe scandal of particularity\u201d \u2013 the scandal of particularity. How can we now take seriously a view which selects one particular episode in history and declares that it possesses an absolute and final quality distinguishing it from all other events? Now with particularity, as such, many historians have no quarrel \u2013 those at least who, with Troeltsch, regard their science as \"idiographic\" rather than \"nomothetic.\" Mr. H. G. Wood, in his recent Hulsean Lectures, Christianity and the Nature of History, distinguishes the two types of science thus:\n\nThe one concerned with the discovery of fruitful general principles, the other with the interpretation of unique facts.\nthe appreciation of particulars whose nature cannot be fully explained by general laws; the one interested in particular facts for the sake of discovering general laws, the other interested in general laws for the sake of appreciating individuality and value; the one concerned with the phenomena of repetition, the other with the unique and non-repeatable elements of experience; the one best represented by physics, and the other best represented by history. (Mr. Wood argues that the specific character of historical events is that they are \"productive of significant change.\" Of an event which is \"historic\" in the full sense, one must be able to say: \"First, this having happened, things can never be the same again. We cannot revert to the previous state.\")\nThe status quo ante. This having happened, it never can happen again. No exact repetition is desirable or even possible. If we take this view of history, as opposed to the \"evolutionary\" view, then there is no longer any objection in principle to the doctrine that the coming of Christ is in the highest degree such a \"historic\" event, unrepeatable and productive of significant change. But the Christian claim seems to go beyond this. It is that this episode in history is unique in a sense which is not, and could not, be true of any other event. \"Once for all at the consummation of the ages he was manifested\" (Heb. ix. 26). Such a statement cannot, of course, be regarded as a scientific induction from observed facts. It is of the nature of a religious intuition or act of faith.\nI shall refer to a famous passage in the first volume of Professor Arnold Toynbee's Study of History. The author seeks an adequate cause for the rise of civilization. After investigating evolutionary factors of race and environment, he concludes \"I have 'drawn a blank.' One discovery only has emerged\u2014the cause of civilizations is not simple but multiple; it is not an entity but a relation.\" He continues, \"We have the choice of conceiving this relation either as an interaction between two inhuman forces or as an encounter between two superhuman personalities.\" He chooses the latter alternative. (Note: The passage refers to Vol. I, pp. 271 ff.)\nAn encounter between two superhuman personalities is the plot of some of the greatest stories and dramas that the human imagination has conceived. An encounter between Yahweh and the serpent is the plot of the story of the fall of man in the Book of Genesis; a second encounter between the same antagonists is the plot of the New Testament, which tells the story of redemption; an encounter between the Lord and Satan is the plot of the Book of Job; an encounter between the Lord and Mephistopheles is the plot of Goethe's Faust; an encounter between gods and demons is the plot of the Scandinavian Voluspa; an encounter between Artemis and Aphrodite is the plot of Euripides\u2019 Hippolytus. The theme of the plot, Professor Toynbee.\nThe formula of \"challenge and response\" in all cases covers the rise of civilizations, according to Spengler. This encounter is often perceived as a unique event. In most cases, as Spengler notes, but I do not believe this is always true. For instance, in the New Testament, the uniqueness of the divine event is essential to the story, which has been a stumbling block for the Western intellect since the geocentric conception of the material universe was first challenged by modern Western astronomy. However, Spengler deftly counters this argument by appealing to Sir James Jeans' theory of the origin of the planetary system.\nIn this portrayal of the encounter between two stars, supposedly leading to the appearance of life on earth, the rarity and momentousness of the event turn out to be almost as much of the essence of the story as they are in the Book of Genesis and in the New Testament. The \"scandal of particularity\" is not avoided by modern science any more than by Christian theology.\n\nIn his application of the myth of the great encounter, Professor Toynbee abandons the idea of strict uniqueness. He assumes that a specific episode of \"challenge and response\" led to the rise of each of the civilizations known to history. But if the universal myth is to be taken as testifying to a valid spiritual intuition of something deeply embedded in the structure of the universe,\nAs he assumes, it is significant that ideally, it speaks of an absolutely unique event. In the history of civilizations, the great encounter is not unique but extremely rare. However, this rarity must be taken as what Plato might have called a \"shadow\" or \"image\" of the idea of uniqueness, which is the ultimate reality in the case. Christianity, as Professor Toynbee recognizes, holds to the strict uniqueness of the divine event. Furthermore, the Christian form of the myth is the only one that even professes to have been embodied in a historical event \u2014 the only one, unless one should include the astronomical theory of the primeval assault upon the sun, out of which the planetary system and life itself emerged. (ESCHATOLOGY AND HISTORY, p. 159) To the lay mind, it is never quite clear.\nWhether astronomers, like other physicists, suppose they describe actual facts or offer a symbolic myth to help us visualize results of mathematical calculations, Christianity insists that in the death of Jesus under Pontius Pilate, a unique encounter between God and the powers of evil occurred from which a new kind of life for mankind emerged. In making this claim, we are not entirely outside the scope of Professor Toynbee's application of the myth. He holds that each civilization arose out of an episode of challenge-and-response which for that civilization is unique and final in its results. It is not unique absolutely, only because civilization itself is not a single phenomenon but a multiple one. But in relation to any one particular civilization, he argues.\nAn event of uniqueness and finality is proposed, possessing the same qualities as Christianity attributes to the coming of Christ. This event is so momentous and in the last resort so mysterious and little accounted for by immanent evolutionary factors, that it cannot be adequately presented except in the mythical form of an encounter between superhuman personalities. And yet, be it observed, this event actually happened, at a date which can in most cases be fixed within a century or two.\n\nI suggest that if we are thinking not of civilizations but of religion, the element of multiplicity may well disappear. Religions, indeed \u2014 that is, the forms and institutions in which they are embodied \u2014 are many, and may be included among the constituent factors in the various civilizations known to history. Religion, however,\nThe unity of all civilizations may ultimately be expressed only in terms of religion, representing the relationship between the human spirit and its total environment, material and spiritual. The implication of such unity is suggested in Professor Toynbee's argument about the \"comparability of facts\" and his treatment of historical civilizations as species of a genus. The Christian claim suggests that the meaning of history in its religious aspect lies in the historical episode of Christ's coming, which can only be adequately interpreted as a drama of superhuman personalities and is therefore unique.\n\nThe New Testament affirms this divine event with full seriousness.\nThe idea of a second coming of Christ appears alongside the emphatic assertion that his coming in history satisfies all conditions of the eschatological event, except that of absolute finality. We must be clear on how much is implied in this idea. It would not be true to say that in the New Testament as a whole, the ministry of Christ implies an end to history as well as a beginning, despite the impossibility for philosophy to admit the concept of finite time.\nThe death and resurrection of Christ are regarded as merely provisional or as anything short of the unique and absolute entrance of the kingdom of God into human experience. The Word was made flesh no more an absolute relation of God to history than this can be conceived. The true nature of the geminus adventus of the Lord can best be studied in the sacrament of the eucharist, in which the spiritual consciousness of the church is most intense. The eucharist was from the beginning an eschatological sacrament, an anticipation of that heavenly banquet which was the august and mysterious symbol of the perfection of life in the age to come. Its eschatological character is most clearly and emphatically preserved in the Eastern liturgies, though the Western liturgies (Roman and Anglican) have not altogether missed it.\nFrom a very early date, at least from the time Paul received the tradition he delivered to the Corinthians in A.D. 50, a commemoration of the Lord's death \"under Pontius Pilate,\" that is, the historical facts in which the church saw a \"realized eschatology,\" has been in focus. This is part of what Dr. Webb calls, in his recent book, the \"community's memory,\" by which the events of the past are attested as realities essential to its life. At the same time, it has been, since at least Paul's time, and we may suppose from those early days when \"he [Jesus] was known to them in the breaking of bread,\" a sacrament of the very presence of Christ in and with his people. Past, present, and future are indissolubly united in the sacrament. It may be regarded.\nIn the eucharist, the church perpetually reconstitutes the crisis in which the kingdom of God came in history. It never gets beyond this. At each eucharist, we are there \u2013 we are in the night in which he was betrayed, at Golgotha before the empty tomb on Easter day, and in the upper room where he appeared. Sacramental communion is not a purely mystical experience to which history, as embodied in the form and matter of the sacrament, would be irrelevant; it is bound to history.\nUp with a corporate memory of real events. History has been taken up into the supra-historical, without ceasing to be history. I believe that if we consider all that this implies, we are led some way towards a distinctively Christian conception of the nature of history. There are two opposing views of history which have been widely held by those who would think it \u201cunscientific\u201d to take account of the spiritual factor. History is either a chapter of accidents, or it is an evolutionary process. Religion can, in theory, come to terms with either view. If, as in some Eastern religions, the whole order of space and time is relegated to the sphere of illusion, then religion is well content to abandon history as at bottom senseless, and to turn to the eternal order in a \"flight of the alone\" (Eschatology and History 165).\nIn the West, an optimistic and idealistic type of religion has reconciled with the evolutionary view of history. It has assumed that the direction of change in the process is of the nature of \"progress,\" and it has introduced the spiritual factor through a doctrine of immanence. According to this doctrine, the supposed law of progress is identified with the activity of the divine Spirit. In its Christian form, it has often attempted to reinterpret eschatology in terms of an evolutionary teleology. The kingdom of God is identified with a utopian goal of social evolution on earth, and the magnificent affirmations of faith in its coming have been bolstered by a supposedly scientific theory of the inevitability of progress.\n\nThe evolutionary doctrine of progress has been the subject of searching criticism in recent years.\nWith it I will not concern myself here. But if the argument of this paper is sound, the theological form of that doctrine to which I have referred betrays a misconception of the nature of Christian eschatology. The kingdom of God is not utopia. The gospel does not speak of \"progress,\" but of dying and rising again. The pattern of history is revealed less in evolution than in crisis. Once in the course of the ages, the spirit of man was confronted, within history, with the eternal God in his kingdom, power, and glory, and that in a final and absolute sense. There was a great encounter, a challenge and response, a death and resurrection; and divine judgment and life eternal came into human experience. By that supreme crisis, the meaning of all history is controlled. As it is reconstituted, by the reconstitution,\n\n(Note: The text appears to be in good shape and does not require extensive cleaning. A few minor corrections have been made for clarity.)\nFaith, in the experience of successive individuals and generations of mankind, the inward reality of history is revealed. The divine challenge reaches the soul of man. For his response to the challenge, positive or negative, and for its immediate consequences, he must bear responsibility for good or ill; and the nature of his response may shape the conditions of the next crisis. The whole course of history, however, remains plastic to the will of God. This world of persons, things, and events can never forfeit, because of human sin, its one title to reality \u2014 namely, its fitness to mediate the call of God to man. For it has once been the field upon which the great encounter was fought to a decision, and it bears the mark of that encounter forever. Beyond the proximate effects of his choice.\nThe mind of man cannot foresee. He can never cast the shape of things to come, except in symbolic myth. The true prophet always foreshortens the future, because he, of all men, discerns in history the eternal issues which lie within and yet beyond it. The least inadequate myth of the goal of history is that which molds itself upon the great divine event of the past, known in its concrete actuality, and depicts its final issue in a form which brings time to an end and places man in eternity \u2014 the second coming of the Lord, the last judgment.", "source_dataset": "Internet_Archive", "source_dataset_detailed": "Internet_Archive_LibOfCong"},
{"language": "eng", "scanningcenter": "capitolhill", "sponsor": "The Library of Congress", "contributor": "The Library of Congress", "date": "1937", "subject": ["Circus", "Acrobatics"], "title": "Big top rhythms,a study in life and art,", "creator": "Pond, Irving K. (Irving Kane), 1857-1939", "lccn": "38010429", "collection": ["library_of_congress", "fedlink", "americana"], "shiptracking": "ST011238", "partner_shiptracking": "IAGC155", "call_number": "7370998", "identifier_bib": "00411124253", "lc_call_number": "GV1815 .P58", "possible-copyright-status": "The Library of Congress is unaware of any copyright restrictions for this item.", "note": "If you have a question or comment about this digitized item from the collections of the Library of Congress, please use the Library of Congress \u201cAsk a Librarian\u201d form: <a href=\"https://www.loc.gov/rr/askalib/ask-internetarchive.html\">https://www.loc.gov/rr/askalib/ask-internetarchive.html</a>", "publisher": "Chicago, New York, Willett, Clark and Company", "description": "7 p. l., [3]-229 p., 1 l. incl. front., illus., diagrs. 21 cm", "mediatype": "texts", "repub_state": "19", "page-progression": "lr", "publicdate": "2019-07-23 11:40:27", "updatedate": "2019-07-23 12:37:21", "updater": "associate-richard-greydanus@archive.org", "identifier": "bigtoprhythmsast00pond", "uploader": "associate-richard-greydanus@archive.org", "addeddate": "2019-07-23 12:37:23", "operator": "associate-annie-coates@archive.org", "tts_version": "2.1-final-2-gcbbe5f4", "camera": "Sony Alpha-A6300 (Control)", "scanner": "scribe1.capitolhill.archive.org", "imagecount": "256", "scandate": "20190726145606", "sent_to_scribe": "scribe1.capitolhill.archive.org", "ppi": "300", "republisher_operator": "associate-evangilyn-dayday@archive.org;associate-richard-greydanus@archive.org", "republisher_date": "20190801104845", "republisher_time": "1099", "foldoutcount": "0", "identifier-access": "http://archive.org/details/bigtoprhythmsast00pond", "identifier-ark": "ark:/13960/t1kh8ct6r", "openlibrary_edition": "OL6368850M", "openlibrary_work": "OL7627078W", "scanfee": "300;10.7;214", "invoice": "36", "curation": "[curator]admin-andrea-mills@archive.org[/curator][date]20191011182613[/date][state]approved[/state][comment]invoice201908[/comment]", "sponsordate": "20190831", "additional-copyright-note": "No known restrictions; no copyright renewal found.", "external-identifier": "urn:oclc:record:1156386242", "backup_location": "ia906907_32", "oclc-id": "2919105", "ocr_module_version": "0.0.21", "ocr_converted": "abbyy-to-hocr 1.1.37", "page_number_confidence": "82", "page_number_module_version": "1.0.3", "creation_year": 1937, "content": "[COPYRIGHT 1937 by Willett, Clark & Company\nA Study in Life and Art\nIllustrated by the author\n\nContents\n\nUnder the Marquee\nAs we stand under the marquee in the presence of Eva,\nwe look back at the world of brick and mortar\nfrom which we have momentarily escaped,\nand thrill to the magic of the \"Tops.\"\n\nOn Stage Number One - 13]\nFROM what is now seen on this stage, one may gain some notion as to the character and extent of the literature of the circus. One may feel that there is still room for a book which shall acclaim those rare aesthetic and spiritual qualities which inhere in the performance but which so easily may be overlooked in the wonder and glamor of the physical accomplishment.\n\nIn Ring Number One, 31,\nIn this ring we review certain activities of the child which rightly directed become art; even that rhythmic art which in its fullest manifestation we see under the big top. The director blows his whistle and we put on an autobiographical turn which we hope will enlist the sympathies of the grownups. For even they have been young, and \"the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.\"\n\nOn stage Number Two, 53,\nHere rhythm reveals its beginnings. Its art form is.\nIn Vances' status, we consider it in relation to the circus, but not too intensely at first. We ponder \"old times\" and enjoy a visit to the backyard. In Ring Number Two, 73, there appear various attractions, including a juggler, a team of white race tumblers, and a group of Arabs. Underlying the art of each is a poetical content which challenges our attention. To comprehend fully the personal and racial significance of what we may term the element of poetry in motion, we shall study the bodily expression of the child, the youth, the man, and the race, and relate our findings to what we see in this ring.\n\nOn Stage Number Three, 105, practice is ongoing under the big top. We enter with friends on the show and find much to interest us. A young man performs.\nA lady is being instructed in horsemanship, not in the continental manner. We meet a contortionist who leads us to the conclusion that in one thing, at least, religion and science are in accord. We watch a troupe of teeter-board artists and learn about \"concerted movement\" and \"precision of attack.\" Regarding a \"tack,\" we touch on methods of training.\n\nIn Ring Number Three, 131\n\nAfter a social call in the dressing tent, we watch a turn in the air, discourse upon its technique and spirit, and make comparisons with other arts. We discuss an application of mathematics and formulas to acrobatic turns. We watch horses in the ring going counter to our preconceived notions of how horses should run, in view of our ingrained and deep-seated racial tendencies involving direction of movement, both mental and physical.\n\nOn Stage Number Four, 161.\nUpon this stage we witness some delectable and some very stupid faking, and are led to comment upon the same and to question the propriety of faking an act with intent to deceive or of uttering palpably false statements in announcing turns. Not only in word but in picture has the circus offended. Its art is pure, but in the exploitation of that art it is possible to err, and not always through ignorance.\n\nOn the hippodrome track 181\nOn the hippodrome track we witness a bewildering variety of turns. Around the track the pageant moves and the races are run; along it Arabs gyrate, clowns cavort and gesture, and horses prance, rear, and kneel. Across the track the leapers speed to the run for their springboard turns in the air over horses, banners, and elephants; and across the track, not so free in movement, come the tightrope walkers.\nThe cats slink through the runways from their dens into the steel arena and back again to their dens. The hippodrome track is alive with lovely form, fascinating movement, and scintillating color. In the back yard, the sun is shining. We sit and gossip with \"kinkers\" and clowns and witness history in the making and in the un-making. Before the sun sinks into the west\u2014to rise again as we know\u2014we see the walls of the cookhouse drop and note movements which would seem to presage departure. We have seen the show or that part which, in our present mood, particularly interests us; that is, certain manifestations of a wonderful art. As the torches glow, we bid our friends the artists adieu. They pass on to other fields; the glory of their art remains with us.\n\nIllustrations:\nLet us enjoy the ecstasy of creation.\nFrontispiece.\nTwo examples of aesthetic endeavor:\nA rider is challenged by an inebriate. The impression left by the \"meat-man.\" The impression left by the hired man. The elephants lead the procession. Rhythms in the air and on the ground. A juggler complicates the rhythms. Somersaults, three high. Arabs in the air sideways and backwards. Rhythms in the magic square and in the air. A young girl takes a lesson. Our friend the equilibristic contortionist. Illustrations. The trampoline artist in an involved turn. A rhythmic time and space pattern. The Orientals race clockwise. An artist's conception of a somersault. As the somersault really is turned. A \"catching\" rhythm, but only in pictures. We behold the strange and impossible. The real hold of a sane catcher.\nTHE WALKOVER AND THE ONE-HAND DANCE\nWe see the leapers.\nA somersaulted pass in air.\nThe student-circus Clem in legend and history.\nWe hobnob with the kinkers.\nThe author at seventy-six in a playful mood.\n\nBig Top Rhythms\nAn expectant throng crowds the benches and overflows onto the straw. The director's whistle sounds, the trumpets blare the call to attention; the band with inspiring music leads the spectacular and kaleidoscopic procession around the track, the \u201cglorious pageant\u201d ever changing in form and color. Man, animal, beast. All the denizens of the circus jungle are there, showing off, all at their best. Hearts throb. Eyes dim. Hands clap, and throats send forth cries of joy. Then a hush! The spectacle has vanished through the stage entrance and is lost in the mystery of the back yard again.\n\nThe director's whistle! The performance.\nCOME ONE! COME ALL! RELAX AND SWAY TO THE VIBRANT RHYTHMS OF THE \"TOPS.\" UNDER THE MARQUEE\n\nTwo examples of man's venture into the field of aesthetic endeavor: Chaliengetoa Study and a Comparison. See Page 6\n\nUnder the marquee, in the presence of evanescent charm, we look back at the world of brick and mortar from which we have momentarily escaped and thrill to the magic of the \"TOPS.\"\n\nA few moments ago, in my office high up in a skyscraper on the avenue, I was bending over my drafting board deep in the matter of giving coherency, a beautified and up-to-date coherency, to the elements of a perplexing architectural problem. Now I am standing in the park near the front door of the Greatest Show on Earth.\n\nSoon, passing under the marquee and through the canvas portal, I shall be in a realm of enchantment.\nEven if I'm not now in a realm of enchantment, as I stand here in the sun where my gaze falls more intimately upon what I could only behold remotely from the vantage point of my office window \u2013 acres upon acres of canvas that bellies in the breezes and, flickering in the sunshine and in the shadows of passing clouds, seems instinct with life and movement. I could not resist the lure; I left my board, as others have left their beds, and here I am upon the lot! The thing is so mysterious, so phantasmal and unreal, springing into being seemingly in an instant and then, after a few days, or even after a few hours, vanishing as suddenly to become less and less vivid as an image in the mind. So different is it in aspect from the neighboring skyscrapers which cast their long, heavy shadows athwart the canvas hills.\nand valleys in the sloping sun of the late afternoon, skyscrapers wanting the charm of mystery and standing painfully permanent in their bald and fixed materialization. These two examples of man\u2019s venture into the field of aesthetic endeavor (if the skyscraper element can be so classified), standing for the moment in such close proximity, induce in me a reflective mood and challenge my mind to a study and comparison.\n\nNot all skyscrapers have in and about them the essence of art. No especial emotion to be expressed or re-created entered into the beginnings or was present at the conclusions of most of them. Yet, stolid and uninspiring as they are, they possess one attribute absolutely essential to any object which is to be characterized as architectural \u2014 to any work of man\u2019s hand which truly can be called architecture.\nThis is the power to convey the sense of structural resistance, at least internally, to the force of gravity.\n\nUnder the Marquee\nThis sense, the big top, serenely immobile in the calm of the listless air or tugging at its staylines in the helter-skelter breeze, does not convey. It were better to say that this sense of structural resistance the big top does not convey; for where there exists neither desire nor intention to achieve, there is no failure in non-achievement. We are quite well content, however, that the big top is one thing and architecture is another. To us, upon this lot where both factors are in evidence, there is more charm and grace and mystery in the assemblage of tents than in the rows of neighboring skyscrapers; and there is more of real artistic endeavor and achievement going on under the marquee.\nThe top of this building surpasses those in neighboring structures. Here, under the canvas cloud, art comes alive, not merely simulated or recorded by formula, in the hope that someone will be deceived by artistic pretensions. Excluding the remarkable acts requiring mental balance, physical strength, and stamina, as well as moral courage, along with the aesthetic elements of mystery, grace, charm, rhythm, synchronized movement, and coordination, the \"Tournament\" or \"Spectacle,\" known by either name on the circus (or \"processional\" as the ecclesiastic might call it; \"pageant\" as costumers and producers would label it), holds more aesthetic and emotional content than all the academic proceedings of the commencement month combined.\n\nBIG TOP RHYTHMS\nThe top of this building exceeds those in neighboring structures. Here, under the cloud of canvas, art comes alive, not merely simulated or recorded by formula, in the hope that someone will be fooled by artistic pretensions. Excluding the remarkable acts requiring mental balance, physical strength, and stamina, as well as moral courage, along with the aesthetic elements of mystery, grace, charm, rhythm, synchronized movement, and coordination, the \"Tournament\" or \"Spectacle,\" known by either name on the circus (or \"processional\" as the ecclesiastic might call it; \"pageant\" as costumers and producers would label it), holds more aesthetic and emotional content than all the academic proceedings of the commencement month.\nThe yearly clerical processionals offer little advantage, aside from length. The advantage of form, color, rhythm, movement, and the participation of well-trained men, beasts, and animals lies with the tournament. I am not oblivious to the deep pathos in the sight of a countless multitude prostrating itself in propitiation of an irate god, or the tragedy in the image of unnumbered graduates going out into the world to face and perhaps overcome a blind fate. However, this is something else entirely; it is not art, no matter how inspiring the music or how gaudy or somber the participants' trappings.\n\nThe big top is tugging, or is about to tug, at its moorings. That is one of its charms.\nUnder the marquee, I have come with a definite purpose, not out of idle curiosity. I know what I am going to see and how to see it. I am conscious of having an advantage over some in the crowd. I know why it is as it is and how it will be presented.\nIf my neighbors on the benches are favorably disposed to my presence and can look and listen at one and the same time, I may be tempted to impart some of my knowledge, promising not to rob the show of any of its glamor \u2014 rather, to enhance in a measure the effect of the persuasive and compelling rhythms in which we all shall find our beings immersed.\n\nOn Stage Number One\nSee Page 17\n\nOn Stage Number One, one may gain some notion as to the character and extent of the literature of the circus. One may feel that there is still room for a book which shall acclaim those rare aesthetic and spiritual qualities which inhere in the performance but which so easily may be overlooked in the wonder and glamor of the physical accomplishment.\n\nVolumes and essays dealing with various aspects.\nThe universally appealing phenomenon of the circus has been the subject of literature, which emerged scatteringly throughout the first quarter of the present century as it neared its end. Now, with the second quarter of the century approaching, articles and books about various phases of circus life and activity appear regularly in popular periodicals and conservative magazines. This trend is likely to continue indefinitely, with books exploring these phases in greater depth, in story form, or in the style of novels.\nFrom the binder's bench. There must be some valid reason for this persistent literary activity about the circus for some reason which must find its root deep in the appeal of the circus itself. This literature primarily deals with personalities, dangers, hardships, and encounters. Much of it is presented fantastically or with so-called circus exaggeration, much of it truthfully. Some of the material is interesting; much of it deals with the obvious. Page after page, chapter after chapter, are filled with stories of elephants. Writers are very partial to elephants and propagandize for peanuts because for every peanut an elephant eats, at least a penny goes into the pockets of the writers. Why then should not others than children worship the elephant! But undoubtedly, this literature has such an appeal.\ngeneral  appeal,  whether  dealing  with  elephants  or \nmen,  because  it  brings  into  the  humdrum,  craving \nand  unsatisfied  everyday  life  of  humanity  a  shade  of \nmystery,  a  gleam  of  romance,  permitting  thus  a  vi\u00ac \ncarious  participation  in  the  unknown  and  unusual.  It \nis  not  that  a  man,  reading,  should  say,  u  There,  but \nfor  the  grace  of  God,  goes  John  Bunyan  \u201d3  rather \nH \nON  STAGE  NUMBER  ONE \nthat,  reading,  he  should  feel  that  deep  down  within \nhim  moves  some  power,  lies  some  potentiality  the \nfulfillment  and  development  of  which  inauspicious \nstars  have  denied  him.  Because  this  deep  conscious\u00ac \nness  exists,  another  book,  with  a  different  point  of \nview  and  animated  by  a  different  purpose,  is  launched \nupon  that  literary  tide  which  is  surging  and  swirling \naround  that  vital  institution,  the  circus.  To  be  quite \nfrank,  it  is  because  of  my  feeling  that  the  treatment \nWhich, heretofore, has been accorded in literature has been in greater part extrinsic, touching mainly the things which float upon the surface instead of diving beneath and penetrating to the heart of the matter, this record of a sympathetic incursion into the intrinsic, into the essentially spiritual phases, is presented to the circus-loving public; presented in a sincere hope that it may help to broaden the general vision and that through it even the individual circus-lover himself may gain a clearer insight into the aesthetic component of the wonderful institution upon which he lavishes his affection. I use the term \"spiritual\" in this connection, knowing well its vagueness and triteness but finding no other single word for that internal creative energy which directs the mind and will in the control of the physical body and of things material.\nI have read much of this contemporary circus literature; yet, I have not been entirely satisfied. The reader has been invited to partake (for a consideration), but given only slight consideration. The best of the viands have not been served, not fetched up from the larder. I have sometimes doubted whether the purveyor knew what was in the larder or even that there was one. I know that some of the muffins, set before the reader as hot and fresh from the cookhouse, are stuffed with sawdust \u2013 not ring sawdust at that. Justifiable cause for complaint seems to exist when a literary magazine, which for seventy-five years had served in its pages the cream or perhaps the ice cream of contemporaneous thought, sets before its readers only sawdust muffins.\nBefore readers, the article dealt extensively with the unthinkable antics of a newspaper man who had been permitted by a complacent management to disport himself in clown's garb in a circus arena. Imagine two clowns cutting into the center ring when Leitzel was still with us and playing tag around her as she was about to climb to her work aloft. Imagine these clowns later running under Con Colleano's wire as he was balancing himself for the forward somersault, and again doing a knockabout turn on the track while the Roman chariot races were being run. Imagine this sort of thing going on without any human beings upon or permitted upon the course.\n\nOn Stage Number One\nA writer's rambling and inconsistent prose will leave an enduring image for two hours for even the most intelligent and sophisticated readers. The author may argue that he was merely joking. We retort that he could only deceive fools, and ponder what pleasure or satisfaction there could be in that. Such writing is, at the very least, distasteful to readers accustomed to order and decorum.\n\nA recent painting depicts an aerialist falling due to a broken rope. Beneath him, in one ring, elephants perform; in another, a premier equestrienne rides; clowns cavort and balancing acts abound. This literary scene is reminiscent of a circus.\nThe magazine printed two articles about a performer who became incapacitated for further ring activity due to an accident. The first paper had a circus-like smell; the second was a travel sketch about adventures that might have befallen members of a carnival company or a minstrel troupe in similar surroundings. These papers are interesting as they demonstrate that a circus performer need not be inarticulate. Not a few articles in popular prints have been cast in the form of interviews or as the story of such-and-such told to and by so-and-so. This roundabout form of self-expression is not infrequently found in books. Its employment.\nThe performer, cook, animal trainer, business executive, or whoever, is believed to be inarticulate and lacking in expressive power outside their own milieu, except that they may speak through another. However, the inconsistencies that frequently appear in writings based on this hypothesis suggest that the mouthpiece is not always in sync with its role. It may let its own construction be vocal and audible, to the confusion of the original thought. A simple, even halting, statement of a fact by one who appreciates its significance is more important and generally more interesting than a bungled interpretation presented in elegant terms by one who has no conception of the basic implication. But, really, how is a writer to convey this to the reader?\nAny concept of the elusive factors that enter into even a simple circus act? He can describe the facts and perhaps show how they are related to one another. But can he create in the reader's mind the sentiment or emotion induced in the spectator by the act itself? The emotion engendered by an act cannot be created or re-created by words, but words in the mouth of one who has deeply felt the emotional content may enlarge in the mind of a sentient hearer the capacity for getting the most out of the act when they see it. Or the words may recall the emotions which welled up in the hearer long ago when they were in the presence of creative forces in action. We may almost set it down as axiomatic that any turn in a circus performance to be thoroughly enjoyed must be sensed emotionally by a body perceptible.\nEvery act seen on the theater stage and every word spoken there is associated in the mind of the auditor with some word or concrete act contributing to their daily experiences. Not so with the acrobatic turn; it lies in the field of the abstract. An emotional experience in that field can make it concrete in the mind of the spectator. It is a subjective field, which I grant is difficult to enter. So the writers, if they sense anything, sense the difficulty and follow the line of least resistance, confining their efforts to weaving words around people and things; and people are the easiest things in the world.\nThe writer, whether sympathetic or not, can magnify, distort, and belittle through writing. A certain action induces a mental and spiritual state, and the writer depends on the primal instincts of the reader to react and register the response. We readers have within us the will to fly, handed down through eons of time from progenitors who joyously cleaved the air. We have the ability, in flexing the body, to change our course, handed down by progenitors who reveled in twistings and turnings in the vasty deep. We have the will to speed, bequeathed to us by progenitors who found pleasure in pursuit or safety in escape\u2014joy in either case! We have within us the will to exert power, the ability to relax, the desire to be courageous, to love.\nThe will to achieve order and harmony and unity between thought and act; the will to comprehend and express the sense of beauty engendered in us by the cumulative experience of countless ages. We are well equipped to enjoy, even to achieve, the art of controlling the body. In the first place, let us not close our nostrils, but inhale freely the fragrance of the rose. Let us not tighten our lips and clamp our jaws, but taste and enjoy the flavor of the luscious fruit. Let us not harden our hearts, but bathe in the cooling pools at the fountain of love; for love is all-inclusive and encompasses the things of the spirit, of the mind, of the body.\n\nSo, dear reader, let not wonder and admiration, or even awe, be suppressed or dormant if you would really enjoy the art of the acrobat and revel in the experience.\n\nOn Stage Number One\nPoetry of his motion. Feel the wonder if you were doing the marvelous thing and realize it's just as wonderful that he is. The only real difference between us: while you yourself have remained unresponsive to life's call, he's been eager and glad to make his body the instrument for primal, pulsating cosmic forces to play. As with the circus act, so with the printed word: to get the best out of it, bring a background of emotion and experience.\n\nThe growing interest in the life and trappings of the circus isn't limited to writers and readers but challenges the pictorial and dramatic genius of painters, etchers, and illustrators. While Dame Laura Knight forced her way into the British art scene.\nThe Royal Academy reveals the circus's powerful portrayal of scenes and characters through five painters and etchers: Beal, Shinn, Glackens, Krawiec, and others. In America, they create colorful, picturesque, and sometimes truthful representations. However, a painter and etcher can disclose less of the circus's fundamental art to the mind and emotions than a writer. The illustrator's powers of observation seem diminished, making it difficult to believe they were ever under a circus canvas, except when using a camera. A recent luxe publication of a sentimental story about a peanut vendor beaten into equestrianism in three weeks provides a relevant example.\nI have read the book, praised by some who found it emotionally moving, realizing I had remained unaffected for a considerable time. I found it to be neither a circus book nor a portrayal of circus life, but rather a sentimental Sunday school tract, written to warn boys considering running away from home. The story did not move me, but I came close to tears at the illustrations, which the publishers had extolled in circus-like terms. Not one color was as described in the text. And the tents! These were \"A\" tents, such as bordered the field of a medieval tournament, from which one would expect knights and squires to emerge for the tilt.\nside the tent! A large square center pole set in a large square sand box. Although the action of the BIG TOP RHYTHMS story takes place not later than the early seventies or, perhaps, the late sixties, a speeding clown on a safety bicycle accompanies the young equestrians who are shown riding across the ring, the latter course being indicated by the caption. After all, why not let the imagination of writer and illustrator have full sway? They amuse the children, while the grownups seemingly hold consistency and truth in slight regard.\n\nCertain novelists in this particular field have yet to learn the difference between a circus and a carnival, for in setting the scene they frequently confuse the two. The European novelist, used seemingly only to the permanent circus, falls into amusing confusion.\nHe encounters difficulties when transferring his scenes and equipment to American soil; for he too frequently transports fixed scenery, walled dressing rooms, and vaulted corridors along with his canvas and sets them up for one-night stands. In contrast, the story writer finds it easy to set up in a ring entirely surrounded by spectators and on solid ground, a built-up scene adaptable only to the most complete and mechanically equipped stage of a permanent theater. Novelists who lead their characters or dangle their puppets amid circus surroundings and animate them against a supposedly circus background often fail, as does the illustrator, through unrestrained imagination on the one hand and limited resources on the other.\nSome overstress the rough and brutal side of the circus, citing as peculiar to it evil qualities common to the generation and locale, although enhanced perhaps by the picturesque and romantic atmosphere which envelops the show. The gambling and sharp tricks which, in the minds of novelists, once were concomitants of the circus and even now exist as such, were quite in evidence at county fairs and mass meetings in the early days. I myself have witnessed the thing in that environment but never have I witnessed it on the circus lot. However, on the lot my quest was for beauty; I was not looking for trouble nor hoping and expecting to be duped.\n\nHaving quite inadvertently brought the county fair into the picture, it perhaps were no more than:\nIn the fair, as in the circus, the joy of life manifested itself in the higher phases. Along with the stock, choice examples of rustic art were also in evidence. Writers on the seamy side of the circus have never a word for performers as artists, not being aware that art exists in the circus. But it has always existed, even from the very first, for around it and for its expression the institution has been built up. Art in the early days was far higher in its standards than the art of the people generally in our broad land. What examples of art did we see exhibited in the round house on the fair ground? Crazy and patchwork quilts were always there in abundance. Once, holding the place of honor, was a frame covered.\nTraining an elaborate and decorative copy of the Lord's Prayer done in potato bugs. At one time in our history, circus posters, which were attractive in drawing and color and really did quicken the imagination, were about the best in pictorial art the rural districts knew. The art in the ring filled the wells of emotion to overflowing. Is it not time the circus writer embellished a little on this theme!\n\nTimes have changed or are changing for the better, or so we like to flatter ourselves, and morals and manners are changing with them \u2014 all of which may well account for the present and seemingly improved conditions on the average circus lot. This change for the better is not entirely due, as certain writers would have us believe, to the efforts of any one set of men or to any one particular organization. I can\nI do not believe that the five energetic brothers, who achieved such eminence in the circus domain in the first quarter of the century, were the good-goody souls their protagonists have painted. They were possessed of an ethical sense, but they never let syrupy morals impede action, nor did syrupy morals account for their fine achievement. While I do not and shall not ignore the ethical phase, it is not my purpose in this book to tell how good and pure and virtuous are the people of the circus; nor shall I sentimentalize over them and try to make them and their surroundings more romantic than they really are. But it is my purpose to speak of them as artists and to exalt their art. For my main contention is that in the circus, under the big top, artists excel.\nThere is an art manifestation which challenges, in its purity and abstraction, expression in any field of art endeavor save, possibly, architecture and musical composition in their creative aspects. I shall hope to elucidate this proposition as my theme unfolds. It only remains to be said in this presentation that it is my purpose in the pages which follow to discuss the art on its concrete as well as its abstract side. In order to make the matter concrete and objective, I shall introduce names only as necessary to visualize and make vivid the specific act or turn. For it is as impossible to write clearly of the art of the circus without using specific names as it would be to write effectively of the art of painting without mentioning Raphael, Da Vinci, Rembrandt, etc.\nTurner, Sargent discussed sculpture without citing Phidias, Angelo, Rodin, St. Gaudens, French architects Ictinus, Palladio, and others whose work was not to be emulated except in expressing their age. No name is mentioned for the trivial purpose of writing stories around a star's personality, as is done in much contemporary literature \u2013 a condemnation which would seem to lie against much of our so-called dramatic criticism. My purpose herein is to set forth appreciatively and deeply the nature of a wonderful art. If, in doing so, I reveal myself as sensitive to beauty in its many phases, I shall not apologize.\nThe achievement of beauty is the principal objective of art, its chief function being to bring joy into life. In Ring Number One, a rider is challenged by an inebriate. (See page 32.) In this ring, we review certain activities of the child which, rightly directed, become art. Even rhythmic art, in its fullest manifestation, we see under the big top. The director blows his whistle, and we put on an autobiographical turn which we hope will enlist the sympathies of the grownups, for even they have been young, and \"the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.\" Among the grownups who peruse these lines are some who, upon a time, and some who still continue, to take the youngsters to the circus.\nThe belief, or with the extenuating proposition, that they got or get their real enjoyment in the greater enjoyment of the child. Not infrequently, it has been necessary for at least three adults to accompany one infant for its enjoyment to be fully appreciated and its reactions duly noted. While recognizing and sympathizing with this purely altruistic attitude toward the child, I am going further in this book and will indicate specifically why the grown-up at the circus really, though possibly unconsciously, gets certain delectable entertainment other than that meted out to him by his youthful protege. I shall hope to open a window into the past of some to whom the window is now closed and the past perhaps forgotten, and to open a door through which those who will may enter.\nI. An Engrossing Journey into the Past: Revisiting the Circus\n\nOpening the window to the past for those who carry one, I invite you to relive the thrill of an enthralling art form. Witness the rumble of the circus wagon in the night or the gray of the early dawn. Breathe in the aroma of the sawdust ring and the stock and animals. Delight in the grace of the \"lady rider\" and the daring of the \"champion,\" as he skillfully guides his team from a precarious position.\n\nThrough this window into the past, observe a rider confronted by an inebriated tramp in the stands. When, on a dare, this man staggers into the ring, he mounts clumsily.\nthe back of a fiery charger, which starts off with a leap at the crack of the ringmaster's whip, while the breathless spectators look for the instantaneous death of the intruder. But he \u2014 oh, well, you remember!\n\nIn Ring Number One,\n\u2014 he, divesting himself little by little of his ragged and uncouth raiment, stands forth, finally, resplendent as a butterfly emerged from its cocoon or a radiant soul from the castoff body \u2014 the champion, the bareback rider of the show. I shall open a door, a mystic door, that you, my reader, may enter into a new realm of art \u2014 though really you will be entering into the realm of an old art, in fact, one of the most ancient and respected of the arts. In opening this door, I shall point you to an understanding and appreciation of an art, the spiritual qualities of which may have been overlooked.\nContemplation of what, to most of us, has seemed all our lives to be a purely physical demonstration. Before opening that window into memory and that door into an entrancing field of art, it may be just as well to get a glimpse into the mind of the boy and note certain of his natural and spontaneous methods of expressing his consciousness.\n\nProtagonists of the various arts seem each to be quite concerned as to priority in the matter of his especial branch. Each would be first. Architecture must be the mother of the arts! Those enigmatic minds which must needs seek in Holy Writ a confirmation of their theories will be convinced by verses 41 and 44 in the first chapter of the Gospel according to Luke that music and oratory preceded the individual in the arts. If, in addition, the boy's artistic development followed a similar pattern, then perhaps architecture was indeed his first love.\nThe baby's leaping in the womb had elicited a cry of joy, a circumstance that would have merited mention. However, for Buddhism, Shintoism, Mohammedanism, and other major religions to be so prevalent in their ranks, the tumblers might have instead chosen Elizabeth as their patron saint.\n\nThe study of rhythm in leaping and the subconscious self, as well as the methods employed, would captivate us not only as a revelation of child psychology but also by shedding light on why the allure of the circus is so powerful and its appeal to the spirit of eternal youth so compelling. In touching the spirit of youth, the appeal lies in that quality in human nature from which beauty's essence is extracted, crystallizing itself in art, and most importantly, for our purposes, the fundamentals of which art is based.\nThe province of this book is to expound and interpret. Although not in the manner I shall hope to do later, I am certain that I am reviving in some of my readers pleasant memories of the past when I recall the \"shows\" the boys were wont to give. Shows for which the barn and haymows were requisitioned while swings and trapezes were slung from the rafters and beams. No charge could be made for shows given in the open under the old apple tree where the branches furnished apparatus and the moist turf was soft to \"tumble\" on; but when the barn was used, an entrance fee could be exacted, and it generally was, to the extent of one penny for adults and five pins (no bent ones) for the boys and girls, though ofttimes the girls were admitted for two bright pins, or without price.\n\nIn these shows, the natural instincts of the boys were let free.\nAnd girls too proclaimed themselves. There were boys who never performed but chose to sit at the seat of exchange. There were boys who became adepts in changing bent pins into straight ones. There were boys who preferred to sit with the girls and eat popcorn rather than risk their limbs on the ropes. And there were the boys, the artists of the future, who did not care a pin for the business, or feasting, or social end so long as they might be permitted to do abundantly and, in so far as they were capable, to do beautifully. I remember that in my earliest boyhood days among some of us, perfection, though rarely or never attained, was almost as high an aim as was accomplishment. Even then, without conscious knowledge of art or even of the term, we were imbued with its spirit.\nWhat penalty did some of us pay to make ourselves proficient in giving ourselves power to reach perfection as we saw it! We wanted strength and worked incessantly at bodily exercises, including chopping wood, carrying water, and hoeing in the garden. We wanted bodily resilience and tenacity and so we stripped our bodies of all raiment and climbed trees and swung from bough to bough, from tree to tree. We wanted suppleness and flexibility of limb; and so we dug angleworms, put them into bottles or glass jars, and set the jars out in the burning sun. With the far-famed \"angleworm oil\" thus produced, we anointed our bodies (none of us more than once, however), and rolled ourselves up in damp and chilly oilcloth to sleep; which we did, that is, sleep, not at all. But our bodies, anointed and swathed in oilcloth, were not designed for such treatment, and we soon discovered that our pursuit of perfection came at a cost.\nWe had good intentions. We wanted poise and balance, and for a while, the narrow top of the high board fence sufficed. But this soon became too easy. It was firm and steady, and we might as well have been on the sidewalk in terms of maintaining balance. So we requisitioned the clothesline and, with a clothes pole in either hand, began operations on that. But three points of support, even though one was wobbly, did not satisfy the conditions of unstable equilibrium, that fascinating factor in the delicate equation of balance. So the clothes poles were abandoned, and in their place, we took up the single balancing pole in the form of a long scantling. We became masters of the slack and the semi-tight rope. We could walk forward and backward, turn around, lie down and get up without touching our balancing pole.\nthe  ground;  so  that  the  strait  and  narrow  path,  even \nthough  a  wobbly  one,  was  made  attractive  to  us, \nand  heights  and  depths  held  no  terrors  for  our  boy\u00ac \nish  minds. \nWill  anyone  estimate,  in  this  day  of  psychological \nexperiment  with  mental  and  physical  reactions,  what \nthese  activities  were  doing  to  the  minds  of  boys  of \nfrom  seven  years  of  age  onward?  That  they  were \nquickening  and  strengthening  and  steadying  in  ef- \nBIG  TOP  RHYTHMS \nfeet  I  make  no  doubt.  If  it  were  put  up  to  me  today \nto  develop  the  best  in  the  physical,  mental  and  spir\u00ac \nitual  life  of  the  child  I  do  not  know  what  better \nmeans  I  should  employ  3  I  do  not  know  what  better \nmeans  could  be  employed  than  to  arrange  conditions \nso  that  these  exercises  could  be  the  spontaneous,  nat\u00ac \nural  and  joyous  expression  of  the  boy. \nNow,  every  father  should,  at  some  period  of  his \nLife has been a boy, and every mother, by the same token, should, at some point in her life, have been a girl. Then would parents understand what it is to be a boy or a girl. Such knowledge would save, or have saved, much distress. No parent should place himself or herself in the position of the hen which hatched out a brood of ducklings. The consequent distress would have been quite unnecessary \u2014 would, indeed, have been quite impossible \u2014 had the hen learned to swim while yet a chick, or, better yet, had she been born a duck. It were well for parents to come to a comprehension of the fact that the activities they deem so rough in the child and fraught with physical danger are not the outcropping of vanity or waywardness or recklessness, but rather are a natural outpouring of spirit in a legitimate avenue of self-expression.\nA child does not necessarily climb the wall and ascend to the roof's ridge in a daredevil or bravado spirit for a stunt. In general, he uses the means at hand to express an innate impulse toward aspiration, the inborn will to ascend. It is a cosmic tendency, and something is wrong, something vital and elemental is missing, if this spirit is not present in the child. Its absence may be accounted for in two ways: through defective heredity or through restraint. In either case, the spirit must be regained if the child is to attain the full stature of manhood or womanhood.\n\nIn a civilization where proper educational methods prevail, this spirit, which manifests itself in adventurous acts, will be directed into the orderly channel.\nIn that civilization, there will be no call for silly slogans like \"Safety First,\" or \"Safety or Sorrow.\" The eye will instinctively measure the relation between speed and distance. The mind will instinctively react to movement. A woman will instinctively alight from a moving vehicle in the proper direction, for her mind will be trained to rhythmic analysis of motion and in right response to its call. The progress of this phase of education will be slower in women than in men, as most women and a few men exhibit an instinctive tendency to \"go wrong\" in matters involving the movement of others as well as of self. BIG TOP RHYTHMS\nto take the wrong side of the walk, to go contrary to\nThe natural or conventional movement in walking or alighting from a vehicle is not a part of our study, but it may explain why girls in general do not compare in accomplishment with boys in rhythmic and ordered activities, except possibly in ballroom dancing. In this activity, the woman surrenders herself to external direction, depending more or less upon her partner, the male, for guidance. It is not that the female of the species is physically inferior or lacking in nerve. The person most to be dreaded and, if possible, avoided in a mob or upon a crowded thoroughfare is an ill-bred woman of whatever age. She is absolutely ruthless in the use of her elbows. Only one of her kind would be needed on any professional football team to strike terror into the hearts of the opposition. It is not a physical limitation.\nwhich prevents girls generally from engaging in those activities which mean so much in the life of the boy, but a mental inhibition, due more or less to age, long custom, and restraint. However, eurhythmics schools of expression and interpretative and acrobatic dancing, are overcoming that drawback \u2013 indeed, in specific instances have overcome it to the extent that in class exhibitions and on the stage girls recently have achieved the forward walk-over somersault with grace and apparent ease \u2013 a turn which to date I have not seen accomplished by any male.\n\nWhile the boy is near the barn, or about the gymnasium, fixed apparatus may be employed and will serve good purpose. But much of the active life of the boy is spent in the open with other boys where apparatus is not available. Then tumbling comes.\nInto it as a super-means of expression. Shoes off, hat and coat thrown aside; a springy turf, a clear eye and an active brain \u2013 this is all that is needed except a steady nerve and a little moral and physical courage, if the two kinds of courage can be differentiated. A striking advantage of tumbling as an exercise lies in the fact that one always has his instrument with him \u2013 as the songbird has its throat, or the swift its wings. When the boy has succeeded in throwing his body into the free air and in effecting a turn which lands him upon his feet without the intervention of his hands or any external aid, at the age of ten or thereabout, the earth does not seem to him the dull, prosaic, stupid thing which it must necessarily seem to one of his age, or twice or thrice his age, who uses it merely as a stamping ground.\nWhich point to go from one to another; but every clod appeals to him as feeling the stir of might and instinct with life. The athlete knows the feel of the earth, but it does not call to him spiritually as it does to the poet of heart and body. The control of the body in tumbling begets in the boy a sense of poise, while mental and spiritual poise finds expression in the act of controlling the body in tumbling. Mental and spiritual power is manifested in the control of the apparatus employed in the physical act. These activities, as instances of self-expression, it were better to reverse my statement and say that the native mental and spiritual poise in the child finds expression in the act of controlling the body, while mental and spiritual power is manifested in the control of the apparatus such as the horizontal bar and trapeze.\nAll others engaged in by the child are measures of self-expression and are adopted by the child in the effort to free his spirit and become himself. These efforts should be encouraged, and, as far as possible, made integral with our system of education.\n\nThe director blows his whistle for the autobiographical turn. I shall start the performance by relating an incident or two which will show how remote an individual and conscious past my interest extends, and the stages through which I came to my understanding and appreciation of acrobatics as a fine art and one of the purest and most abstract means of self-expression.\n\nWhen I was about four years old, with my brother who was still younger, I watched from the vantage point of our front gateposts a circus.\nA man had pitched a single center-pole tent in full view on the common not far from our home. An acrobat, with fleshings in very pink hues, performed upon a rope taut from the tent's top to an anchorage in the ground. The man, in reality, executed his acts with great abandon, accomplishing things that to our childish and unsophisticated minds no mere man could possibly accomplish or even conceive. This figure, which appeared to our minds as a marvelous \"superbeing\" (the \"superman\" had not yet arrived), was of a color we had seen only in meat market products, and as it was shaped like a man, we named it the \"Meat-Man.\"\nOf him today will awaken deep within me the \"long, long thoughts.\" No mere man, as it seemed to us then, could have possessed the grace, daring and agility of that creature. And as I witness certain performances nowadays, even in the light of my own experience, I am inclined to the same opinion concerning their authors, though I know now that they are men like unto us, or such as we would be were our bodies, like theirs, supple and responsive, and in every nerve and fiber as tender to the spirit touch as are the finger tips of a violin virtuoso.\n\nShortly after the apparition of the Meat-Man, our next-door neighbor's hired man, who was said to have been a clown on the circus, gave a performance on a slack rope slung from opposite sides of a spacious wood shed. The impression then made upon me was that,\nA man throwing one leg over a rope, he engaged in the bend of the knee, executed with his body a series of revolutions. The centrifugal and tangential force caused any point on the rope to describe continuously and rapidly a full circle. I now know from experience and conversations with aerialists that the impression was false, and I probably beheld the rapid revolutions of a man astride or standing in a swing due to his manner of grasping the rope. However, these two performances \u2013 that of the Meat-Man, whom I regarded as an abstract being unrelated to human life, and that of the hired man, whom I knew to be real everyday flesh and blood \u2013 inspired me. In a short time, I had a trapeze of my own contriving suspended over a manure heap from a spar thrust out from the.\nI had begun exercises on the roof of our barn before the age of five, which eliminated any fear of heights and instilled self-reliance in me. I gained confidence to walk on the four or five inch flange of an I-beam two hundred feet in the air, with a chance to fall the entire distance, or to stand on a perch about eighteen inches in diameter at the top of a skeleton spire with a clear fall of one hundred and fifty feet beneath me, as I did when I was in my thirteenth year. One who later chronicled the story for the press genially added.\nI was generally regarded as a harum-scarum person, and I indeed had my share of hairbreadth escapes. Looking back, I believe this was true, both in terms of my physical activities and my behavior.\n\nMy mother thought that some of my antics were merely showing off. I now appreciate her insight. My father, on the other hand, considered them dangerous. After a fall in my late teens \u2013 caused by a swaying frame, a gust of wind, or perhaps a miscalculation on my part, though I cannot admit to that \u2013 my father removed the frame holding my double trapeze. I still remember the sensation of passing beneath the wide-swinging bar I had missed in my flight and the quick realization of the need to make a half turn.\nI make no apology for including here a brief reference to my relations and participation in certain arts. For I am writing out of knowledge born of feeling and experience without which I could only theorize and could not speak with conviction. When I left high school, I was about as well prepared to enter the acrobatic profession as I was to enter college. I knew and had combined in fair form the elements of tumbling. I had worked, or played rather, on the trapeze, on the horizontal bar, and on the rings.\nI had done double somersaults from the springboard and have kept up an active participation in acrobatics, especially tumbling and juggling, even to now when I have gone nearly a decade beyond the allotted span of threescore years and ten. As to other arts: I once knew something of music and, having a fairly accurate sense of time and rhythm, drummed in my college orchestra. I have a working acquaintance with modeling clay, brush, pen, and pencil. In groping toward a means of self-expression, I studied the manners and methods of the great actors of my early youth and learned many Shakespearean parts, hoping, possibly, to be called from the pit, as was the English baker in the legend, to substitute should the star become indisposed! Edwin Booth was the first actor I ever saw.\nI. In a theater and saw Hamlet, the first play. Booth's personality, as portrayed across the footlights at least, appealed to me. However, I did not take long to conclude that there were not many Booths, and that, after all, stage life was a mimic life and could provide no permanently soul-satisfying outlet to one whose instincts impelled toward aesthetic creation in a more subtle, though seemingly more material field. For fifty years and more, I have practiced architecture as a profession, with results, it is said, not wholly devoid of distinction. During these years, I have filled many a printed page with dissertations on art in its relation to life. In some of these writings and lectures, I have included acrobatics in the realm of the fine arts.\nThe uninitiated may find my discussions on the art of acrobatics in connection with other arts satisfying to the elect. I have outlined certain of my contacts so that when I speak of the art of acrobatics and find parallels and comparisons, my reader may feel that I fully understand the practice of these arts and have some background of knowledge and experience against which to project my opinions. Whether or not the reader agrees with me at every point, I want him to regard the opinions expressed as coming from within rather than based on observation and hearsay merely. I want him to know that when I recite my modest experiences in various lines of aesthetic endeavor and, with these in mind, dwell lovingly and at length on the art of the acrobat, I am not ghostwriting.\n\nIn Ring Number One.\nI. The arts' essential unity is my intent, challenging you, reader, to focus on what truly matters. More exists in heaven and earth than your philosophy, or mine, or all our philosophies combined.\n\nII. On Stage Number Two, see page 59.\nOn Stage Number Two, here rhythm reveals its beginnings. Its art form advances, gains status, and is considered in relation to the circus, but not too intensely at first. We ponder \"old times\" and enjoy a visit to the backyard when along comes a man dressed as a woman, setting us philosophizing.\n\nRT \u2014 as measured by the span of the interval.\nAn individual's life on earth is long. However, as art is purely a human creation, it cannot extend beyond conscious human existence on the planet. It did not precede the first conscious expression of self by the first individual capable of self-expression, and it will cease to exist as art with the last conscious breath of the last surviving member of an extinct race. Yet, though art is a human creation, its roots and ramifications reach so far back into the past, into a past so far preceding the emergence of the human race on earth, that it is reasonable to assume that art will endure as long as the race does. Whether it does or not, it is with us today and holds power in our individual lives, making it worthy of spiritual and intellectual engagement.\nand if it is so entertained, it will bring joy to the hearts of its hosts \u2014 for that is the supreme function of art, to irradiate life with joy. Other factors may be pleasant in bringing happiness or in bringing pleasure; but art brings joy both to endeavor and to contemplation, and in dimming or extinguishing the flame of art one truly would be taking the joy out of life.\n\nLet us in imagination penetrate to that remote past ere human consciousness had evolved, and let our souls sway in the rhythm of the universe. Let us enjoy from within the ecstasy of creation; feel the systems detach themselves from the central incandescent mass and swing off into space; watch planets detach themselves from suns and find their orbits; watch what has been called chaos become order; watch systems coordinate and correlate, and feel the harmony.\nSwing and feel the rhythm of the movement. Watch the emergence of life upon the cooling planets and the rhythm of its cycles and changes. Observe the emergence of mind from swinging, swaying, rhythmic masses of moving matter. Feel what we call spirit issue from this striving and conflict, from this struggle toward coordination and correlation \u2013 this spirit which recognizes the difference between conflict and cooperation, between what is expedient and what is suicidal, between what is right and what is wrong. A spirit that rejoices in the perfect coordination of mind and matter, a spirit inherent in the central incandescent mass \u2013 that mass which must have appeared as mere chaos from the outside, but through which we within saw life striving.\n\nOn Stage Number Two.\nTo free itself, striving to express itself in terms of law and order and rhythm, in terms of the material. It is a reaction to the spirit which determines the phases of art.\n\nHaving, at least in imagination, sensed something of that wonderful background of rhythmic movement which, underlying creation, underlies the life of the artist, we are almost ready to participate in the life lived and the art wrought in those mysterious spaces bounded beneath by Mother Earth and above by the big top.\n\nIn this day of organization and efficiency, not all the interest centering around the big top lies in the art enacted therein. There is something in the almost magical appearance of the tented colony, with its bills of canvas gleaming in the morning light, upon the lot on which the rising sun saw no sign of life, that captivates us.\nThe presence of system and the absence of confusion, the capital involved, appeal to captains of industry and make the circus an important matter on its purely business and administrative side. The methodical transportation and housing and feeding of hundreds, even thousands, of men, animals, and valuable beasts is an accomplishment of high order in the business world, signifying foresight, forethought, and sustained endeavor. But of all this, I have no present desire to speak. It is the art, and the life lived in its cause, that is now uppermost in my mind and even now sending its tinglings through the veins and nerves of my body. Would that I might impart some of the spirit to my readers. Let us, for the moment, be boys again in the old circus.\nThe environment was not an environment when we were boys; it was our surroundings. It was before the days of railroad shows. All vehicles were horse-drawn, and the circus moved from town to town over the dusty or muddy country roads. The posters had been up for some weeks, and we boys had studied the contour of \"James Melville the Australian Horseman\" as he was pictured gracefully poised upon his flying steed. The curve of his back entranced us. The pictured lions, tigers, rhinoceroses, and hippopotamuses \u2014 these we took for granted, for that was nature and nature in some form we saw every day. But that pose and the curve of that back! That was art! And art, living art, was what the eyes of our spirit were longing to see.\n\nThe morning of circus day dawned, and we were excited.\nup early and out on the Dexter road to see the show\nON STAGE NUMBER TWO\nWe visited the circus lot first and watched the lot boss and his assistants. They had arrived early in the morning and staked out the tents using a long tape line or a surveyor's chain. Establishing the center pole as a base, they drove slender iron pins with red flannel loops into the ground wherever a stake was to be driven. Meanwhile, wagons containing poles, then stakes, and finally canvas began to arrive. The stake wagons circled the lot, dropping stakes of various sizes where needed - sometimes one, two, three, or more at a single point.\nSmaller stakes to hold the supports of the tent walls, stouter for the great center pole. The gang of tent men stood in a circle around the stake, and got busy with their heavy sledges. The leader struck the first blow. Then each of the half dozen men struck in turn, the stake being driven home with a rhythmic succession of blows which it was a pleasure to deliver as it was to watch. Within the outer circle, later, were driven stakes to anchor the secondary or quarter poles, so that the wind might not lift the big top from its moorings. And last, but not least to the heart of the boy, the stakes to which would be made fast the guy lines that hold taut and level the frames from which are suspended the flying trapezes, the double trapeze, the flying rings, and the swinging ropes.\nHaving seen the tent stakes well placed, the canvas spread and laced, and having perhaps seen the top elevated, we \"skedaddled\" as fast as our short legs would let us out to meet the real show which formed on the outskirts of the town and marched in triumphal procession through the main thoroughfares and out to the circus lot. That was the early morning routine of the first circuses I remember.\n\nLater, as the shows became larger and better organized, the cook's tent - or, in circus jargon, the cookhouse - was the first one struck at night and the first one pitched on the new lot in the morning; and all the various functionaries of the show came to the lot in quick succession, partook of the morning meal, and went about the customary business of the day - whether it was pitching the tents, feeding the animals, or preparing for the performances.\nThe procession started out of the tents, through the town, and back to the lot. Years have not robbed me of the pleasure more than once experienced in going out to meet the show. In watching the gathering caravan as it straggled up to the rendezvous at Allen's creek, where horses were watered and wagons washed, and the procession was formed. Acrobats and performers donned their uniforms, took their places in the circus, on stage number two. The musicians slung the big drum into its brackets overhanging the back of the ornate and heavily gilded bandwagon, and the cavalcade started off in the morning sunshine, the elephants leading, toward town and the circus lot. Somewhere, possibly, horse-drawn vans were present.\ngiving way to motor trucks, shows are still coming to town somewhat after the same manner and boys are experiencing the same sensations, but mostly now the hauls are longer and are made by train. This concentrates interest but takes a bit of the glamour and romance out of it all; for a railroad comes from somewhere definitely marked on the map, some place to and from which one may buy a ticket, while a show coming in over a country road comes right out of the land of pure imagination and vanishes as mysteriously as it came.\n\nLet us delay for a moment more our study of acrobatic performances as an art expression and the attitude of the acrobat toward his art, and trace rapidly the development of the circus from the:\n\n(Note: The text appears to be complete and does not contain any meaningless or unreadable content, OCR errors, or modern editor additions. Therefore, no cleaning is necessary.)\nIn the days of my early youth, society in America was more or less puritanical in its outlook on life, and art as touching pleasure or entertainment was below par. The circus proper was taboo generally, as it is among the Methodists today. To attend the circus was to sin, as it was to dance, play cards or atheism.\n\nOn stage number two:\nA. Double somersault and piroouette. With piroouetted return.\nB. Triple back somersault - Ihthe Air - from Barto Catcher.\nC. Double and twister. Spaced to show the individual turns.\nD. Round of C Han D3 Touch the round. Flip. Back and full twister.\n\nOne-ringed, one-center-pole affair of our boyhood to this with the present monster tent accommodating from ten to fifteen thousand spectators and displaying its wares in three rings and upon four platforms or stages and upon the hippodrome track.\nTend horse races. Of course, there soon developed a considerable element in society which indulged in such sin, as the wide popularity of these forms of amusement attested. But the circus, in order to make its appeal general, must needs combine with itself an accredited moral feature, such as the menagerie. There were menageries like \u201cVan Amburg\u2019s Great Moral Show,\u201d which traveled without circus accompaniment.\n\nTo accommodate the circus and the \u201cmoral\u201d ingredient, the tent was arranged to provide for the cages along the wall, leaving a space for the public between the cages and the back of the tier of benches.\nThe seating arrangement, which was that of a one-ring circus, brought the audience in close touch with the ring performance. This arrangement made the show more intimate and made possible what was then one of the great attractions - the acrobatic talking clown. Dan Rice, of Dan Rice\u2019s Circus, was one of the foremost examples of this type. Those who loved acrobatics and beautiful horsemanship and could ignore the trend of pious opinion found full satisfaction in shows such as L.B. Lent\u2019s New York Circus. When I saw it, this circus had no menagerie accompaniment and furnished no street parade. There, the art was shown in the fullness and purity of its abstraction. The introduction of a second center pole cleared the ring of obstructions and made it possible to hang the frame of the flying trapezes.\nThe trapeze act began to develop in importance and characteristic beauty. In my early days, the ring was always plowed and an embankment of earth thrown up around it. The surface was raked smooth and rolled, and a thin layer of tanbark spread upon it. This, with a carpet over it, formed a perfect mat for the tumblers and ground acrobats, while the footing for the horses against the earth embankment was much surer and more normal than that furnished by the present-day level ring with its more formal border built up in wooden segments which are clamped in place. When the circus shows are on a sunbaked city lot, or in a great building \u2014 which latter it generally does at the beginning of the season \u2014 it covers the entire area of the rings and surrounding track with some inches of fresh earth spread with sawdust or fine sand.\n\nOn Stage Number Two.\nThe performer feels connected to Mother Earth through shavings. Thus, the morals of the menagerie and the art of the circus did not coexist for long; they were soon divorced, each dwelling in its own particular tent. The menagerie took the museum freaks with it. A further stage involved a show under three canvases, sheltering respectively the museum, the menagerie, and the circus. Later, the museum idea was generally abandoned, and the side show, holding a concession from the main show, took the freaks and their tent and charged an extra entrance fee. The museum is merged with the menagerie only when the show starts the season in a permanent building in some large city. Otherwise, they are separate entities.\nWith the enlarging of tents and the corresponding multiplying of attractions, rings and stages increased in number, so that now the limit seems to have been reached. For the benefit of the uninitiated, I may say that, as nearly as possible, similar performances are going on in the rings or on the stages simultaneously, so that a spectator sees a sample of each sort by keeping his eye on one ring and one stage. When a principal act is on, attention is directed to it and all other acts cease. However, at that, the large multi-center-pole tent makes it impossible to view an act in the center ring from the ends, and as the \"big\" acts generally are there or on the neighboring stages, this is unfortunate for the spectators on the benches. Certain big acts, however, appear twice during each performance - first on an end stage and subsequently.\nLater, differently costumed, on a center stage toward the other end, where the act will be featured. With the shows of today, no matter how important may be the menagerie feature, the animal tent is in reality just the vestibule to the big top, as the circus tent proper is called. Lying to one side of the big top, and really of more importance to us at this juncture, is the region known to circus lovers as the backyard. Let us enter, for here we shall get a glimpse of circus life which may help us to a clearer understanding of the art.\n\nIn order to avoid the throng of curious sightseers who crowd the entrance from the outside world, we catch the eye of the \"back door\" man, get a nod, and slip in quietly where the wall of the backyard meets the big top.\nWe come upon a bunch of colored canvasmen and roughnecks, technically known as u attaches, with fists full of money, shooting craps. We pass unheeded, and the yard opens up before us. On the right is the \"stage entrance,\" as the curtained opening in the wall of the big top is known.\n\nON STAGE NUMBER TWO\nout \"in front\" \u2014 the \"back door,\" the performers call it \u2014 is on the left. There are one or two baggage wagons which shield the crap players from sight and sound. Then two or three small tents, with flies before them, shelter a sitting porch where the occupants receive their friends, do fancy work, read and write their letters. The occupants of these small tents, of which there are sometimes a half dozen, are star performers, often with their families. Sometimes the flies shelter the openings to wagons which are fitted up as living quarters.\nand the performers' dressing rooms were furnished. If the stay is for several days, these tents are made homelike with the lares and penates brought from the Pullmans where the performers, as well as other staff, live in their own individual quarters while the show is on the road, and where most of them sleep even during longer stands.\n\nOver across the yard is a somewhat larger individual dressing tent occupied by the troupe of dwarf clowns and storing all their elaborate paraphernalia. Next to that is the homelike tent of the \"Leading Lady Gymnast of the World,\" and if we were to stop, she would graciously insist, provided we track in no mud, that we drop into easy chairs, make ourselves comfortable, and, if time served, watch the procession form for the grand entree. But there is much to see and we forego the pleasure of an examination.\nWe tend to visit with the fair and charming aerialists and equestriennes and their husbands, brothers, fathers, and mothers \u2013 for the whole family is here, all except a few older children who are off at school or college. If it's early or late in the season, but who may be visiting their parents on the show if it's vacation time. We may meet one or two fourth-generation circus folk as we pass through the yard. We may meet other than circus people in the back yard; we may meet other visitors whose vision, possibly, is not so keenly penetrative as our own. These are professional writers, painters, and photographers all intent on gathering material with \"local color,\" all with minds and eyes fixed upon externals, all oblivious to\nThe fundamental spiritual fact for the presentation and interpretation of which, alone, these absorbing externals exist, all supremely unconscious of the ultimate purpose for which the whole is made. Beyond the individual tents first sighted is the doctor's tent, for he, with his remedies and bandages, is not infrequently in demand. Within the yard are some fantastic vehicles which will appear in the tournament or spectacle \u2013 for either name the opening procession around the track is known \u2013 and some broken-down or rather \"broken-in\" automobiles, and the fire engines and patrol wagons which suggest the clown acts. The back yard is the nerve center of the circus. In the center of the yard, and in proximity to the back door, is a wide open space where the spectacle forms. Here, to be decked out in readiness for the spectacle,\nThe camels and elephants are herded from the menagerie's top. The elephants, all males or females considered as bulls, are led by the wise old bull who earlier in the day pushed vans around and helped raise center poles. Performers gather here, and horses stand ready for their turns when led over from the horse tents where the tenderest care is given. Outside the yard, a crowd of sightseers gapes, sometimes through the rope net wall provided by considerate management.\n\nAn array of canvases can be seen around the yard. There's the tent for performing horses, also known as the ring, the tent for performing dogs, and the tents for draft horses, the blacksmith, the barber, and the officers.\nWe are outside the back yard, and last but not least, the dining tent, known as the cookhouse, where hundreds of people are served at a meal. We may be asked to dine in the cookhouse. If so, we shall accept and enjoy an added experience. In the cookhouse, we are inducted into the larger family life of the circus and may note the general good fellowship which prevails. The conversation strikes us as that of the domestic board rather than of many a club table, for it is clean. Another thing we note with pleasure: we are not among competitors, but in a circle of friends where no jealousy exists and where each takes a kindly interest in the successes and achievements of his co-workers. This is the atmosphere of the cookhouse, the back yard, and the big top.\nThe performer has in view only the achievement of perfection, never the desire to win or overcome. This conception of the ideal marks the wide distinction between acrobatics and athletics, respectively the poetry and prose of physical endeavor.\n\nWe note other wagons as we refocus our gaze upon the details of the yard. These nearest are presided over by the mistress of the wardrobe, and that other, just beyond the entrance to the big dressing tent \u2014 dare I reveal the secrets of the charnel house? \u2014 that other is the dressing room of a man who appears during his extremely popular act clad in feminine garb and who is presented as a woman. His feet really give him away but he doesn't know it! He couldn't dress with the women, of course, and, so strictly are the proprieties observed, he would not be allowed to give the impression that a woman was impersonating a man.\nThe man leaves or enters the men's tent. So he retires to his wagon fortress, the doors of which are guarded by the maid-in-waiting (his wife) who takes his wraps at the ringside and daintily restores them to his shoulders when his act is done.\n\nOn Stage Number Two\n\nThe principal bareback act in a large circus other than the one we are now visiting was, or is, performed by a man masquerading as a woman. His was a clever act and he had no need to resort to this means of gaining approval. I cannot understand a man's willingness seriously to create and maintain the illusion of being a woman, or vice versa. Such a demonstration degrades rather than exalts an art. In fact, every impersonation, under the big top or behind the footlights, of male or female, degrades the art.\nA female impersonation by one of the opposite sex is offensive to good taste \u2013 that is, an impersonation made with the direct intent to deceive, or one like L\u2019Aiglon by the late Madame Bernhardt, in which a woman struts about in a male part though the audience well knows that a woman is masquerading. The only exception is a part like that of Imogen, Viola, or Rosalind, where the woman, leaving for a purpose known to the audience her true part, assumes for a time male attire, and then, changing, returns to her womanly estate. In such acts, the audience is not deceived nor is it disturbed by incongruous contours or vocalization. A male performer who makes up in the dressing tent we are about to enter appears in the ring in a blond wig and the costume of a woman of the ballet. He deceives no one for more than a moment.\nGiuseppe Bignoli, or \"Joe\" as his friends call him due to his diminutive stature, is a clever acrobat who does a comedy bareback act. Stunted in body, he is big in heart and understanding. I wish we could meet him and fall under the spell of his gentle voice and sweet smile. He has a wonderful comedy sense and a well-developed sense of humor that includes himself. He seeks no sympathy, though my sympathy pours out to him.\nHe rather sympathizes with one of us who has acrobatic leanings \u2014 he sympathizes because of the handicap of size and weight under which he always labors and the handicap of age, which is being laid surely and insidiously upon him. However, the handicap of age may be laid on Joe Bagghi himself. I wager he accepts it with gentle philosophy and a smile.\n\nNow it would seem that we had established a background against which we may project quite lightly our intimate study and analysis of the art of the circus. In Ring Number Two, In Fling Number Two \u2014 a Juggler. Completes on Page 80. In Ring Number Two, there appear in this ring, among other attractions, a juggler, a team of tumblers of the White Race, and a group of Arabs. Underlying the art:\n\nIn Ring Number Two, a juggler and a team of White tumblers, as well as a group of Arabs, appear among other attractions.\nOf each is a poetical element which challenges our attention. To comprehend fully the personal and racial significance of what we may term the element of poetry in motion, we shall study the bodily expression of the child, the youth, the man, and the race, and relate our findings to what we see in this ring.\n\nIn its broader sense, art is the beautified expression of life. In a narrower sense, art lies in the expression of feeling, sentiment, emotion, in terms of color, form, sound, movement, severally or in combination. Art is undertaken primarily for the love of the doing, and secondarily and remotely, for the effect on others\u2014an effect which, as we shall see, will depend upon others as well as upon the artist. Not all expression of feeling, sentiment, or emotion in any one of or all the above terms is necessary for art.\nEssentially, art is the expression that must conform to the laws of beauty. Big Top Rhythms. Poetry marks the spirit in which a thing is conceived. Art marks the manner of its doing. The art which claims our special attention lies in the expression of an innate and genuine love for the poetry of motion. The first expression of desire or conscious life on the part of newborn babes is through motion. A prose expression develops under normal conditions of physical growth. Poetry marks an emotional and spiritual development and is a manifestation of inspiration and design.\n\nIt will clarify the subject to sketch the progress of self-expression in terms of motion from the first outreaching of the infant on through the ascending forms of sport, and then on beyond to the highest, the artistic expression. The infant lies upon his back.\nThe being gesticulates with arms and legs, grasping everything within reach with fingers and toes. He is now acquisitive and consciously alive, expressing this consciousness with body and members equally and simultaneously. When he creeps, stands, and walks, he is more than merely alive; he is a being with a will and a spirit that glories in a new-found sense of self. Now the will asserts itself, and the real bodily activities begin. First come running, jumping, romping, dancing, those movements which respond to feelings of joy in the exuberance of spirit and rich vitality. Then come rope-skipping, hoop-rolling, hockey, bat and ball, croquet, golf, and tennis, which introduce another, an intellectual, element: the power to control some inanimate object and pleasure in directly guiding its course. Cycling is added to these activities when underway.\nThe higher sport of horsemanship follows, providing mental exaltation through the conscious ability to control more powerful living and moving forces. Branches of activity emerge where the body itself becomes the instrument, performing marvelous feats of skill and endurance. The highest of these involve the love of beauty ruling the play of spirit, with the added knowledge that spirit and body are essentially one, and that the spirit's will is the body's doing. The child's nature has changed, transitioning from purely acquisitive to self-expressive.\nIn all forms of bodily activity, from the lowest to the highest, it is well to note that after the child has \"found his legs\" and has ceased to be a lumbering colt (although old age does not bring this happy state to some children), a prime idea is to gain a form that is, to clothe each motion with the characteristic expression of grace and charm and that play of feeling which the particular activity demands. It is a low order of mind which is content merely with \"getting there.\" If form is desirable in the lower expressions, it will be understood how absolutely essential it is to the higher and artistic manifestations.\n\nLet us now subdivide the field of activities over which we have been glancing and place in one category the manifestations of physical prowess known as sports.\nAthletics and acrobatics involve running, jumping, golf, tennis, and all games and sports where victory through personal contest is sought. In athletics, the focus is on motion. Acrobatics include ground and lofty tumbling, trapeze and wire work, the use of certain gymnastic apparatus, juggling, contortion and equilibration, high-stilt-walking, and all other exhibitions of skill and daring where victory over another is not sought, but rather for the love of the activity itself and the appeal it makes to the sense of beauty in the performer. In acrobatics, we find the poetry of motion in its highest expression.\n\nIt would seem that the art which underlies this expression in motion is worthy of more than a passing interest.\ning  glance,  worthy,  indeed,  of  such  consideration  as \nmay  be  given  to  other  than  the  great  creative  arts. \nIn  this  art  the  feeling  for  rhythm  is  as  vital  as  in \nIN  RING  NUMBER  TWO \npoesy,  the  sense  of  time  as  basic  as  in  music,  and  to  its \nadequate  expression  it  brings,  ofttimes,  a  personal \ncourage  and  daring,  a  fearlessness,  a  confidence  in  a \npower  beyond  one\u2019s  own,  and  a  consideration  of \nothers  which  are  elements  of  not  one  of  the  decorative \nand  imitative  arts.  In  common  with  these  and  all \narts  is  engendered  that  elation  of  mind  which  follows \nupon  the  conscious  and  sustained  mastery  of  great \ntechnical  difficulty.  Upon  the  sensations  peculiar  to \nand  begotten  of  this  art,  I  shall  touch  as  occasion  pre\u00ac \nsents,  never  attempting,  however,  to  define,  only \nsuggesting;  for  they  are  as  incapable  of  translation \ninto  words  as  is  the  musical  quality  of  Chopin\u2019s  etudes \nMovements, sound and words each have distinct provinces, though music has unsuccessfully attempted to encroach upon literature and acrobatics. I aim to minimize the element of danger and speak instead of the beauty that is the chief end and aim. Memory may aid some, while imagination must assist others, in understanding the subject. Recall the act of a clever juggler, an Indian club-throwing troupe, or acrobats performing leaps and somersaults between each other. Try, for a moment, to appreciate the beauty, intricacy and variety of the movement.\n\nC turns to the smoldering embers. Who has turned and is ready to receive him? Between the turns of C and A.B.\nLet us pay attention to what is happening in the ring. A juggler enters. We will closely watch him, following the movement of three balls as they pass from hand to hand. These three objects encircle the body, weaving in and out, between and around the limbs, forward and back, up and down, to and fro. Note the complications which ensue with the introduction of a fourth and then a fifth ball. The rhythm changes and grows in complexity with the introduction of each new object.\n\nThe technique of throwing and catching is, in a way, relatively simple when all objects are balls - that is, balls of equal size and weight and small enough for the hand to grasp readily. But take the simplest movement with three objects which are dissimilar in size or shape.\nSize, weight, and form require distinct methods and the involvement of feeling and judgment. For instance, consider an egg, a plate, and a knife or torch. No two can be handled in the same way. The knife or torch must always be caught by the handle, never by the blade or flaming brand, regardless of the object's revolutions from hand to hand. The complexity of motion and feeling increases with the introduction of a fourth, fifth, and sixth object, making the technique correspondingly more difficult.\nBut it is not only in the involved technique or dexterous throwing and catching that the beauty lies. Therein, indeed, lies the skill necessary for convincing presentation in any form of art. But the real beauty and the poetry lie in the fact that each of these objects is moving in a definite and established orbit which flows through the performer and which bears its definite and established relationship to the orbits of each and every other object in the juggler\u2019s hands. It is difficult for the spectator to comprehend the rhythm of the movement or to follow the interweaving of the orbits, and beyond the marvel of the thing, the movement means little more to him than the movements of the stars in the heavens to a night watchman with no knowledge of astronomy. But the rhythm is there, and without it, the paths of the objects would be disorganized.\nThe objects in the air cannot be maintained. It is not an uncommon time, but a penetrating, sensuous movement weaving through all the maze of to and fro. It imparts a feeling such as is experienced generally, I believe, in reading rare rhythmical verse which, from its very music, independent of thought or sense, quickens the pulse and liberates a welling emotion. Who shall question the elation of feeling, the poise of mind, of the man who, with body perfectly attuned, can create and maintain this rhythm, change it at will, contract and expand the interweaving orbits, and then bring the bodies to rest without a clash and as if they had fallen asleep? The body of the careless spectator is more tense than that of the artist, which stands free and absolutely relaxed, ready, even in action, to receive and respond.\nThe mind of the artist is more concentrated during the execution of a will's mandates than that of the most interested observer. In observing this act, as in every act within our purview, we must remember that despite any relaxed or contracted muscles, the performer's directing mind is deeply focusing. Technical difficulties have been overcome through training, and false work and scaffoldings have been obliterated or concealed, resulting in a smooth, simple, and unified physical demonstration that appears effortless to the careless observer.\nThe spectator rarely senses the underlying spiritual power and concentration of will necessary for sustained endeavor and perfected accomplishment in art. In fact, in no consummate work of art does the scaffolding of underlying technique, erected and maintained through intense concentration, cease to exist. When that scaffolding becomes wobbly, effort fails. It is well for the poet to say of art that \"there is toil on the steep, on the summit repose!\" That is how it looks to one on the outside. But only the physical scaffold has been removed from around the material and built embodiment\u2014which stands serene and self-contained in its perfection.\nThe artist who dreamed the dream never reached the summit upon which his mind could relax. When and if he took \u201cthat flattering unction\u201d to his soul, his work fell off if it did not completely fail. If this is so in the case of a solid material embodiment of the idea, how much more so is it in the case of the evanescent, almost fantastic image which the art under present and particular consideration unfolds before our mental and spiritual vision.\n\nThe music which accompanied this exhibition of the juggler\u2019s art was merely a background and served to unify emotional conditions in the spectators and to stimulate the nerves of the performer, rather than follow closely or at all the rhythm of his action. This latter it could not do in any but the more simple movements when but three, or possibly four, similar movements occurred.\n\nIN RING NUMBER TWO\nObjects are manipulated. When a particularly delicate feat is to be attempted, the music ceases, so nothing may disturb the rhythm running in the performer's brain. The music has changed, the dreamy quality has vanished, and a spirited, punctuated character is evident. The team of tumblers has entered. This team is composed of Near-Easterners, Germans, English, Americans, all of the white race, all of the Western world. I refer to this troupe as a team, for the members, in addition to their individual turns, will engage in concerted team work, a feature of self-expression which characterizes none of the Oriental groups except the Japanese. While Oriental in aspect, the Japanese possess an uncanny faculty for imitation amounting almost to creation through the exercise of which they seem to equal, even to surpass, the material accomplishment of the West.\nAs the music is dissimilar, so the expression in this art of tumbling makes a different, yet equally powerful, appeal to a nature that revels in the poetry of motion. The rhythm is not as involved as in the expression of the juggler's art, but the movement abounds in fascinating musical contrasts and smoothly flowing sinuosity, which, in effect, is intoxicating. Not in a deleterious sense, but as a yielding of the spirit and the flesh to the sway of poetical motion while the body is caught and held by decisive and unerring judgment. As the juggler tosses the ball or the knife and with it traces curves in the air, so the tumbler, being like Brahma, the thrower and the thrown, tosses his body, touching the earth lightly on the bounds with fingers or toes, executing various motions forward and backward, rotary.\nLet us imagine for an instant the intensity of pleasure in throwing a double or even a single free-body somersault from a springboard. A rhythmic run down a steep incline, a sharp impact on the board, an arrowlike rise into the air, an utter abandonment of self to the intoxicating sway of motion during the rise and the revolution, then a quick call of the judgment, a stretching forth of the feet to meet the earth and a springy alighting in an upright position. Words cannot impart the sensation nor more than sketch the movement. Brief as is the experience.\nThe thing is a fascinating poem with changing feelings, an art for the feeling of each movement. The resultant effect of its combination and blending with other movements is clear in the mind of the performer as he starts at the top of the incline. One of the simplest combinations in the tumbler's repertoire, and at the same time one of the most beautiful because the movement flows so smoothly and is rich in contrasts, is called the \"full round-off.\" It consists of a series of bounding sidewise somersaults. Big top rhythms. The performer knows whether he has caught the rhythm for the complete artistic success of his effort as he takes the first steps in his initial run. One of the simplest and most beautiful combinations in the tumbler's repertoire is called the \"full round-off.\" It consists of a series of bounding sidewise somersaults. Big top rhythms.\nA round-off, a flip, and a back handspring are consecutive movements performed without interruption.\n\nA round-off is akin to the cartwheel, an endeavor every active boy eventually attempts, except the complete wheel is not turned. A forward step is taken with the hands, following the line of the movement, touching the ground one after the other almost simultaneously or in quick succession. While the body makes a half turn or twist, facing opposite to the direction of the movement, the feet are brought over with a whipping motion to the ground into position for the flip. This latter is a billowy movement, beginning at the toes and running upward throughout the length of the body, in which the head and arms are thrown backward till the hands touch the ground, while the feet, following over in a curve, come to the ground.\nThe ground is covered with a movement similar to that which completes a round-off. This combination consists of three movements: a twisting movement, a billowy motion from feet to hands to feet, and a turn in the air from feet to feet. These movements are to tumbling what the three primary colors are to painting. The combination is a beautiful arabesque in red, blue, and gold. All other movements and combinations are brighter tints and deeper tones of one or more of these three, harmonized and contrasted. Any one movement can be combined with either of the others, but the composition, to be rhythmically complete, must embrace all three.\nThe combination of all movements in a musical composition also possesses the characteristics of satisfaction. This introduction of other movements can only expand upon the theme. The action, starting in the major key, transitions through the minor, back into the major, and concludes on the tonic chord, providing contrast in tone and a sense of completed melody. In tumbling, this satisfying sense of completion is imparted only by a clean-cut turn in the air from feet to feet. The color contrast of the modulation is achieved through the sinuous twist. The twisting motion deeply appeals to the acrobat as it changes movement in one plane to movement in another plane, either normal or inclined to the first, and imparts a fascinating feeling of moving and being in three dimensions at once. It is the third dimension that adds this intrigue.\nAnd the unlimited field it offers for advancement and treatment, as well as for movement, in the plane of the picture, which gives power and reality to the work of the architect and sculptor, contrasting two-dimensional movement in one plane and a necessarily pictorial presentation of mass or rounded form, which are the limitations of the painter, decorator, and illuminator. But if you wish to gain an impression of power hitched up to speed, the god of this modern age, watch Maurice Colleano as he varies the movement: a short sharp run, a round-off, a flip, another flip, and a double back somersault in the air to the feet. Others have done it but we do not see it often. And now this artist is doing the \u201ccriss-cross.\u201d Pace off about one hundred feet in a straight line and, starting at one end, land up at the other.\nThis is a cc straight-away. But Maurice is in the forty-two foot ring with no opportunity for a straight-away and he is tuned up to do his full quota of turns. So he goes as far as he can, introduces a twister of some sort, returns upon his tracks, introduces another twister of the same or a different sort, repeats at the other end and comes to rest where he started \u2013 four times across the ring, without a break in the exquisite rhythm, as smoothly done as if some expert reader were giving the lines of the choric song in \"The Lotus Eaters,\" and indeed as musically. Can you or\nI quite comprehend what that exhibition means in spiritual and bodily control! And what it would mean, to you and me \u2014 what it would not mean! \u2014 with will and spirit attuned, to re-create the cadences of the choric song with our bodies.\n\nNow we shall see some team work, for the Montrose troupe is in the ring. Did you notice how beautifully those men swung up to three high? Let them steady themselves and relax while I tell you how I happen to know these people. Forty-six years ago, I met the woman who came to be known as the leading citizen of Chicago and considered by many to be the greatest woman in the land, the late Jane Addams. What made her great was her sympathetic understanding of people and her ability to put herself in their place and so to help them. She established Hull House shortly after my acquaintance with her began.\nMy brother and I, now deceased but living on through our good works, served as architectural advisers and designed the buildings for the BIG TOP RHYTHMS, the greatest and most influential social settlements. In one of the buildings is a gymnasium where boys from the streets and slums are entertained in groups and classes and taught the value of exercise and clean living. Miss Addams' sympathies extended to the acrobats who needed, and with difficulty could procure, spacious quarters in which to rehearse and work up their acts between seasons, and she graciously allowed the performers to set up their apparatus and use it while the gymnasium was not required by the boys, which was rare in the mornings. Here I first met the Brothers Majares, wizards of the slack wire. The friendly engineer at Hull.\nI. House would tip me off when some particularly fine rehearsing was in progress, and I would leave my office on some pretext, go over to the West Side and slip into the Hull House gymnasium as though on a tour of inspection, to see if floors were in good condition or if radiator valves needed replacing. So it was that I came intimately upon the Montrose troupe in action. What I witnessed and discussed in rehearsal, you and I are about to view in the ring.\n\nThe men, three high, are at attention. A signal.\n\nCandor compels me to state that a long acquaintance with the acrobatic folk who have to do with the circus, a large number of whom practice in our gymnasium every winter, has raised our estimation of that profession. - Jane Addams, Twenty Years at Hull House, p. 443.\n\nIN RING NUMBER TWO.\nThree somersaults appear in the air, performed simultaneously. The topmounter turns and lands on the shoulders of the understander, who also turns and recovers in time to receive the topmounter. The middleman turns to the shoulders of a fourth, waiting. Simultaneously, the two who are now topmounters turn to the ground. These three somersaults were not turned simultaneously but consecutively, on a rising and subsiding spiritual or mental wave that began in the will of the man on top. At the signal, the body of the middleman stiffens to provide a firm base for the topmounter's turn, for no somersault can be thrown from a yielding base. Then the middleman, freed of the topmounter, relaxes for his own turn.\nIn his turn, sends his message to the understander who reacts to the middleman as the middleman has reacted to the topmounter. The understander sends his message to Mother Earth in whose bosom the spiritual wave is dissipated. Only the minutest fraction of a second intervenes between the turns, which, virtually, are thrown and float upon a swelling and subsiding tide of emotion. There is not in this what might be called precision of attack such as is required in a musical performance, as will be evident in the Picchiani turn on Stage Number Three. It is even a finer demonstration of human achievement in concentration, coordination, and cooperation than either a musical performance or that acrobatic turn affords.\n\nWhat it means to men to know that they possess bodies capable of such perfection of movement.\nas  that  which  we  have  just  witnessed,  such  perfect \njudgment  of  interrelated  time  and  space?  Were  I \none  of  those  men  or  one  such  as  they,  I  should  know \nthat  my  body  was  not  common  clay  \u2014  a  clod  \u2014  but  a \nbeautiful  sensate  instrument,  a  confluence  of  complex \ncosmic  forces,  which  should  leap  and  bound  and \nswing  and  sway  and  swoon  at  my  will,  in  the  play  of \nmy  emotions.  And  I  doubt  not,  in  fact  I  know,  that \nit  means  quite  that  to  those  who  own  the  bodies  which \naccomplish  these  feats. \nThe  Arabs  have  entered  the  ring,  and  we  may  ig\u00ac \nnore  the  music  for  it  has  \u201c  nothing  to  do  with  the \ncase,\u201d  or  very  little.  Perhaps  a  tom-tom  is  monoto\u00ac \nnously  sounding  somewhere  a  broken  rhythm.  That \nwould  be  altogether  appropriate.  The  mind  works \nin  a  flash,  and  before  the  Arabs  begin  their  intricate, \nindividualistic  and  thrilling  performance  let  me  flash \nIn the late sixties or early seventies, I witnessed the performance of an Arabian acrobatic troupe, said to be among the first to demonstrate the Arabian system in this country. They appeared under the auspices of P.T. Barnum\u2019s \u201cGreatest Show on Earth.\u201d In due course, I had seen the leapers and white-skinned tumblers going through the usual line of round-offs, flips, backs, fronts, twisters, etc. I thoroughly understood these movements and was fairly proficient in some of them.\n\nThen into the ring came the Arabs, with their tawny or dark skin and haughty airs. They condescended to lay aside their flaming burnouses for a time to appear in loose, ill-fitting garments, each individually cut and striped.\n\n(In Ring Number Two)\nand colored with no regard for uniformity. When they began, as they did, with impetuosity, individually motivated and seemingly disregarding one another, young, critical and highly superior as I was, I felt a distinct shock of disappointment go through me. Did Barnum bring these people over here to show us something worthwhile, or was it another case of buncoing the public? You, dear reader, must forgive me, for, as I say, I was young, in my early teens, and had my own ideal of beauty. I had seen \"brainies\" and \"butterflies,\" but I had never seen them done like this. I had seen flips \u2014 but why did these chaps interrupt the movement as they did? They would jump high into the air, hang there for an instant, stretch out their hands toward the earth, and bend backward nearly upside down. PROJECTION OF THE RHYTHMICAL PROJECTION OF THE RHYTHMICAL PROJECTIONS. (If this text is part of a larger work, please note that the last sentence seems out of place and may require further context to understand its relevance.)\nThe body of the Trampoline artist traces a three-dimensional path, connecting with a magical square to produce a poetical, rhythmic pattern. This pattern results from flowing transition between rectilinear movement and abrupt ceaseless digits of the magic square and angular changes in direction. The patterns within the magic square are conditioned by two-dimensional space alone. The pattern developed by Tumbler, Juggler, and Aerialist is conditioned not only by three-dimensional space but also by the inexorable element of time. See page 99 in Ring Number Two.\n\nDouble, it would alight on hands and feet, sometimes seemingly simultaneously. At other times, the feet preceded the hands by a fraction of a second.\nThey touched hands irregularly. One hand first and then the other! Didn't they understand rhythm? Didn't they feel the rhythmic flow of forces through their body? Why didn't they take their art seriously and tumble to the tune of \"Old Hundred\" or something staid instead of working to \"Pop Goes the Weasel\" and getting out of time at that! They jumped high into the air and threw sidewise somersaults like free cartwheels with arms and legs widely extended and away from the ground. They revolved in air backward, forward or sidewise, rolled up like a ball \u2014 \u201cballed-up,\u201d the technical term is \u2014 and from that position would \"let out\" and come to earth with bodies bent severely backward. All was done with immense speed and intensity of feeling!\n\nI dreamed that night over that exhibition of physics.\nI came to the conclusion that Barnum was not fooling us, but that there was something in it, something spiritual, racial, and inherently beautiful, which because of my inexperience and lack of knowledge I had not been able to grasp or fathom. I came to a full realization of the value and character of Arabian art as I pursued my architectural studies at home and in the lands of the Saracens. These troupes of Arabian acrobats are made up of Arabs of the desert, Moors of Tangier and Fez, and now and then a black from the Sudan; but their racial characteristics are differentiated only in detail.\nThe Moors and Arabs are known for their love of unstable equilibrium, as seen in their riding, tumbling, and pyramid building. Men standing four or five high on the shoulders or backs of those beneath is a notable example in pyramid building. This instability is also present in their architecture and decorative design. However, the architecture of defense is the only stable aspect. The horseshoe arch at the gates demonstrates the deep-rooted racial craving for fantastic movement and precarious balance.\n\nFrom the preceding discussion, we can better understand certain racial differences between the art and character of the Oriental, best exemplified in the Arab, and those of the Occidental or Western world. In the decorative arts, the lines of the West flow symmetrically.\nThe composition, whether symmetrical or asymmetrical, maintains a spreading base and a balance of parts, keeping the whole firm and solid. This same idea of composition determines the form of Western music, built upon an eight-toned scale. Though admitting of transitions and modulations, it moves ever with a definite forward flow in the development of the theme. The movements in Western tumbling exhibit a certain sinuosity but, in general, feet and hands touch the ground in a measured rhythmic beat, without deviating from the preconceived thematic scheme. The music of the Arab world is based on a chromatic scale and moves in broken rhythm, following the mood of the individual performer, with many quirks and twists.\nNoted are the same characteristics in Arabian tumbling. In the West, the composition's character is expressed in a long, gradual sweep. In contrast, in the East, it is demonstrated in a succession of brilliant chromatic runs. These limitations and characterizations apply equally to the decorative arts and to the architecture of these widely and idealistically divergent branches of the human family.\n\nNow that I have given some little insight into the character and idealism of the Arabs, we may watch their movement with keener appreciation of the underlying poetry. Poetry and mathematics, both so necessary to creation and accomplishment in all the arts, and especially in acrobatics, lie deep down in the character of the Arab. His mathematical sense, his mastery of interwoven geometric patterns in his decorative arts, underlie his tumbling, even his acrobatics.\nFrom what we have witnessed in this ring, we may gain an insight into the limitations of an acrobatic performance, whether of jugglers and tumblers or of aerialists whose movements and rhythms we shall study later. Leaving out of count at present the physical factors of the equation, let us note the definite, absolute though intangible factors of time and space and their necessary interrelationship. The form of the action or movement and the quality of the rhythm will depend upon the spiritual and mental makeup of the performer. The completed turn will depend upon these factors.\nThe manner in which he meets the space and time limitations of the problem. Two opposite types of mind may be perceived in the pattern they develop within the magic square, a figure made up of nine equal squares, each marked with its own numeral. The sum of the numerals added across, up, down, or on the main diagonals is always fifteen. If a line is drawn from the center of square number one to the center of square number two, thence to number three and so on to number nine, and the figure closed with a line from number nine to number one, there will result an intricate and engaging geometrical pattern.\n\nIf the one who plies the pencil is of a poetic temperament, the lines will flow in rhythmic curves.\nThe figure will be mysterious and entrancing; if he is prosaic and mechanically minded, the resulting figure will be stiff, angular, and spiky though equally complex. The angularity and complexity are established by a preconditioned rectilinear path from point to point within the larger area and are unaffected by the mental or spiritual attitude of the individual wielding the pencil. The flowing lines, merging one into the other, are conditioned by the quality and \"quantity of choice\" resident in the mentality and spirituality of the artist. These two products of the human mind disclose the difference between poetry and so-called modern art. The form limitation in the magic square is one entirely of space in one plane. But when the bodies of the acrobats are tracing curves in free air, the space limitations are different.\nThree-dimensional space limitations are involved in time limitations as well. If one finds it entrancing, as one does, to develop with brush or pencil the rhythmic pattern on a plane in the magic square or any form of surface decoration, much more richly and spiritually rewarded will he be in producing in space with his body patterns equally or more complicated. The difference between the figure in the plane and that in the air is one of the static as opposed to the dynamic, one of a mummified as opposed to a living art.\n\nLet us go a bit farther in an analysis of the two patterns shown in the magic square. The mind which developed the flowing, poetical, almost lyric pattern must have had a clear conception of the factors involved and the end to be attained. Nothing was left to chance. When starting from No. 1, it must have had a preconceived plan.\nI. had knowledge not only of No. 2, but of No. 3 and the numbers to follow. That knowledge led to the selection of a path with easy transitions along which movement was graceful and pleasing to the senses. Not only this, but the path permitted, almost demanded, a continuity of movement which in the end would produce a unified figure rich in rhythmic variety. The mind which produced the pattern composed of straight lines needed only to know, when it made its initial move, that there was a No. 2 which, having been located, was to be reached in the most mechanical manner possible. When or how smoothly the course was to be traveled was a matter of no moment. No. 3 might be reached from No. 2 in the same manner, next day or the next, it made no difference. That a pattern resulted at all\n\nII. In Ring Number Two.\nThe power behind the positioning of numerals in a magic square is due to this rhythm operating as the controlling factor in what I call a living art, be it poetic or modernistic. Behind all this rhythm is the fundamental energy that expresses itself in vibrations with no beginning or end. In unordered fields or undirected zones, this vibrant energy displays itself as chaos, with time having no bearing or influence. Time is a concept involved in and concomitant with conscious life and the spirit. There is no chaos in the following text:\n\nThe power behind the positioning of numerals in a magic square is due to the rhythm that operates as the controlling factor in what I call a living art, be it poetic or modernistic. Behind all this rhythm is the fundamental energy that expresses itself in vibrations with no beginning and no end. In unordered fields or undirected zones, this vibrant energy displays itself as chaos, where time has no influence. Time is a concept involved in and concomitant with conscious life and the spirit.\nNo life in one- or two-dimensional space, and consequently no living rhythm. The rhythm that appears in two-dimensional design is read into it by a being conditioned by at least three-dimensional space. When vibrant energy is directed into ordered paths, an organism appears and then life itself. When rhythm controls the order, the field lies open to the tender and ingratiating influence of art. The incomplete and unordered mind reads art into the zigzag and spasmodic movement of vibrant matter. The full and well-ordered mind, emotionally endowed, finds art only in ordered, rhythmic movement and the higher the type of mind the more insistent it will be upon ordered, harmonic and rhythmic expression in whatever phase of human endeavor it may be pleased to denominate as art.\n\nOn stage number three, on stage number three.\nPractice goes on under the big top. We enter with friends and find much to interest us. A young lady is being instructed in horsemanship, not in the continental manner. We meet a contortionist who leads us to the conclusion that in one thing at least, religion and science are in accord. We watch a troupe of teeterboard artists and learn about \"concerted movement\" and \"precision of attack.\" Additionally, as for a \"tack,\" we touch on methods of training. We have just come from the tent which shelters the \"ring stock,\" as the performing and riding horses are called, and, through the back door, along with the horses he is leading, we enter the big top with our guide, a star equestrian, billed as \"the World's Greatest Champion Bareback Somersault Rider.\" A string of these champions crowds my memory. The Melvilles,\nFrank and James O'Dale; the Robinsons, James and John; Robert Stickney; \"Charlie\" Fish, not the most Apollo-like in figure, but the most brilliant and daring of them all come \"Poodles\" and George of the Hannefords, \"Phil\" of the St. Leons; Percy of the Clarkes. Some new horses are to be broken in and a new trick is to be practiced. Indeed, all about us, on the track, in rings and high in the air, artists are practicing their regular turns or working up new ones. Our guide gets us chairs from the stands and we draw up with a little party at a ringside. The champion takes a horse and devotes himself to it and to the young daughter of the head of the Wild West show.\nThe young miss, who has just finished her after-the-circus performance on the track, is at boarding school in the east but is spending her vacation period on the show and learning the fine art of equestrianism from a past master. Every ungraceful motion, every constrained movement, is ironed out not with the rod but by example and encouragement.\n\nParenthetically, and by way of opposites, while we are speaking of constrained movement, that slender chap who just nodded to us is a contortionist. He has given up his ground work to a great extent and specializes in a daring and thrilling trapeze act which is popular and in world-wide demand. His sinuous movement and flexion are beautiful in the extreme.\n\nOn Stage Number Three\n\nYou and I would not find these distortions and sinuous movements in our everyday life.\nThe repulsiveness of contortionists, as many have found and as we may have in our youthful days. I see it now as the attractive grace and freedom from restraint in their movements. I have pondered the reason, if there is one. Is their sinuosity and grace like that of the serpent? Yes, there it is! Our early training and heredity have robbed us of a heritage of beauty. Religion and science have joined hands in this crime. The story of the serpent in Eden and the curse put upon him, the age-long struggle of humanity to slough off, to ascend out of, the reptilian forms and movements. There it is. Not only have we lost the power to glide and fly, but we have lost the instinct for beauty in movement which.\nI am glad to have regained some of my lost heritage. I am glad that I can love the serpent - at least that I can love its movements. I am glad that I can see beauty in the movements of the contortionist and feel the rhythm in the flight from trapeze, from bar to bar. Albert Powell can correct, as he will, the mistaken notion that there is anything abnormal in the physical structure and endowment of the contortionist. The ability to bend, twist, and distort the body results from continuous and strenuous training and practice at an early age when joints are flexible. Joints yield to the direction of the will, and the body, rightly controlled, is capable of extremes in relaxation and flexibility.\n\nAs our friend the contortionist has passed, we are\nErnest Clarke, a rider and aerialist, is set to perform a forward somersault from the ground onto the back of a running horse. He practices with caution, using mechanics to minimize the risk of falling. Turning to the woman next to me, I suggest how I would do it. She asks why I don't speak to Ernest directly. I explain that he might not appreciate unsolicited advice from an outsider. She reveals that she is a Hodgini, but I was previously unaware of this fact. I knew she was a rider, being one of the Rooneys.\nI said, \"You know your family well?\" She replied, \"Yes, I was a Hodgini. I spoke with a pride of family that would have done credit to a Cabot or a Lowell. And there, on the track, was our friend. The Equilibristic 1, the Contortionist, 'demonstrated' in the backyard. BIG TOP Rhythms\n\nHer husband, a \"riding Rooney,\" tried out a beautiful horse. The two Rooneys, brothers, one also a double trapeze artist, and their wives were doing a graceful riding act on the show. Simultaneously, the Clarkes, three brothers, assisted by the wife of one and a clever partner, performed in another ring.\n\nThis gives a bit of an idea of the family participation in the life which the circus not only permits but also demands.\n\nThe family life under the big top is real and sincere, possibly because each member of the circle is so intimately involved.\nDependent on the sympathy and cooperation of others. No professional jealousy enters to estrange husband and wife or part brother from brother, and no vanity. None knows or much cares what he or she is called on the bills or in what high-sounding and extravagant terms he may grace the programs. That is all press-agent stuff, all publicity for the show, all claptrap and ballyhoo which stirs the pulse of the public but does not affect the artists. They are serene in the knowledge that they are doing interesting and difficult stuff and doing it well.\n\nHaving, as I have said, drummed in an orchestra, where the results of an ill-timed stroke would be unpleasant, to say the least, I know something of \"concerted movement,\" \"precision of attack,\" and such matters as they affect chamber music and orchestral performance.\nOn Stage Number Three, let's observe the Picchianis and their teeterboard practice. Six or eight acrobats make up this troupe, and they use the teeterboard, which we can clearly see from our ringside seats. The principle of the teeterboard is simple: a heavier weight applied to one end sends a lighter weight at the opposite end skyward. You've all used a seesaw in your youth, so you understand this concept. As a new topmounter is being tried out, the mechanic is used, ensuring no one is hurt by a fall to the floor, though we may see a human stack, four high, crumple. The \"mechanic,\" roughly speaking, is a rope run.\nA block is placed at the top of the tent with one end attached to a belt around the waist of the performer, and the other held by an assistant, leaving the rope slack so as not to interfere with the acrobat's movement. Notice that three men are standing three high - one man stands on the ground, a second has mounted lightly onto his shoulders, and a third to the shoulders of the second. They are named in the order in which they stand: the \"understander\" or the man on the ground; the next above is the \"middleman\"; and the third, or the one at the top, is the \"topmounter.\" In a moment, and after this manner, the third man will become a second \"middleman\" and the fourth, now the \"topmounter.\"\nThe \"mounter\" will be added. Watch this; it is interesting. The men, three high, are about a yard from the grounded end of the teeterboard on which the fourth man is standing poised, alert, with his back to the three. A fifth man mounts to a pedestal or perch about ten feet above the ground, facing his companions in the act. At a signal, he jumps straight downward, landing with all his force on the tilted-up end of the teeterboard. Simultaneously with his impact, number four rises like a human arrow, throws a back somersault at the top of the rise, and lands with his feet upon the shoulders of the third man. They stand \"four high.\"\n\nDid you note just then that layout twister, another example of marvelous control? The man was shot high into the air from the teeterboard and landed safely.\nThe Picchianis were the first teeterboard artists to accomplish the somersault four high. Initially, special attention was always directed toward the act. Now, the turn is included regularly in the routine of several troupes, and its effect is lost upon many a spectator. The Yacopis are perhaps the finest exponents of the turn today. The somersaulter of this troupe is a charming young woman who has not bobbed her hair nor affected male attire and manners. In this regard, she is altogether representative of circus women, who do not consider that a natural feminine bearing in any way detracts from the virtue of their performance or the value of its art.\n\nOn stage number three, on the shoulders of the understander, in the meantime, making a complete turn in two directions with the body bowed slightly backward, this position of the performer is known as a back flip.\nThe body was maintained until the landing was affected. You have seen a diver execute a similar movement, the twisting dive, from a platform or springboard into the water. But all the diver was concerned with was, after a graceful turn, to enter the water feet first. The acrobat, however, had to make his turn and land upright on the firm footing of a solid pair of shoulders. These different terminations to seemingly similar movements produce very different mental states in the two performers. The diver's mind remains passive throughout the turn, while the acrobat's mind shifts sharply from passivity to heightened activity in making the landing. In terms of skill and technique, the acrobatic turn far surpasses the other. I shall not take the time to provide further details of the teeterboard performance; it is beautiful and interesting.\nIn no musical performance, whether by trios, quartets, or full orchestras, is there required or often achieved such concerted action, precision of attack, or flow of mental rhythm as in the act we have just witnessed on this stage under the big top. Nor does the absolutely perfect judgment of interrelated time and space, so necessary to the consumption of this act, as of all the others we have witnessed and are yet to witness, inherent in any musical performance. We are fortunate in viewing these acts in rehearsal where we can study them intimately, unlike during the confusion and excitement which accompany a regular exhibition.\n\nA duo of performers is setting up a trampoline on the stage which the Picchianis have just left.\nA trampoline is a heavy canvas sheet, approximately the size of a bedspread, stretched between springs. The sheet's resilience is extraordinary; one jumping into it is shot upward as if from a catapult. The sheet is elevated about two feet from the floor, and a pedestal at one end is some two or three feet higher. The performer somersaults to the sheet or jumps upon it, the difference being that the jumper himself, rather than another, is shot high into the air. With this in mind, we may watch this demonstration understanding. The artist mounts the pedestal, standing with his back to the trampoline sheet. He composes himself for an instant and fixes in his mind the rhythm of the movement.\nHe turns a back somersault and lands upright on the sheet. He shoots up, not perpendicularly but slightly backward. High in the air, he throws a back somersault, follows this with a full twister which takes him into a plane at right angles to and back again into the plane of the movement. In this plane, he throws another back somersault and alights upon his feet on the floor. The marvel of this performance lies in the fact that the turn into the plane at right angles to the movement does not end that movement but interrupts and then restores it, the movement being completed in the direction of the original impulse. The performer cannot start on this journey through the air, watch a map on his knees, and figure out which direction he shall take when he comes to a sign post. Clear in his mind as\nHe starts is a diagram of the course upon which are registered in rhythmical succession the necessary impulses for perfect accomplishment, for perfect control of a willing body. I hesitate to speak again of the marvelous control of movement in space, that coordinated relationship of time and space without mastery of which an act such as this must inevitably end in disaster. Something must be left to the reader\u2019s imagination.\n\nW Bombayo \u2014 the man from India \u2014 is coming into the top, and we shall witness some interesting experiments in the rhythmic art when his \u201cbounding rope\u201d has been set up and he has mounted to it. This rope, some thirty feet in length between supports, is stretched horizontally ten or twelve feet above the ground. At both ends are springs which give the rope great resilience, so that when it is struck, it rebounds and swings back and forth.\n\nON STAGE NUMBER THREE.\nBombayo sits astride and impels the rope up and down, keeping it absolutely in the vertical plane. The vibration range is from two to three feet above and below the horizontal. Height is determined by the velocity of the vibration, which the performer controls at will, just as he controls the height at which he will make his turn in the air.\n\nWe will see Bombayo rise into the air, assume a sitting position, and with deliberation turn his body so as to alight sitting sidesaddle. Then rise and just as deliberately turn his body so as to alight sidesaddle facing in the opposite direction. From this position, we will see him rise, straighten his body, and alight standing on the rope, which is brought suddenly to a quiescent state. With this latter movement, Bombayo concludes all his turns.\n\nThe vibration, intensified or restrained, is to give a specific effect.\nHeight and velocity of the turn are not the only factors determining the perfect landing, as there must be a definite time element correlating vibration, height, and velocity. In reality, Bombayo goes from a violently worked-up speed of rope vibration into an almost slow-motion picture speed of body in rise and revolution. The effect is startling. To rise high into the air and, turning twice backward, alight astride the rope and then on the rebound stand erect upon the rope is a feature of each performance. However, Bombayo surpasses this difficult turn, as we will now hope to see him do in practice.\n\nThere is a difference, aside from mere direction, between the forward and the backward somersault.\nI. Erasmus, as will be explained later, faces difficulty with the forward flip. However, let one of the highest authorities in the show world today describe the turn. I quote from a personal letter I received from the man whose double and pirouette in the air to his brother, the catcher, I will describe later: \"You will, I know, also be pleased to hear of the latest achievement of your friend, Bombayo. In East St. Louis last Monday at practice between shows, he did a double forward on the rope. It was just as high, as well turned, and his command of the revolution was as splendid as it is in all the rest of his work. He is not doing it in the act but he could do it if he wished.\" I introduce this excerpt not only to describe this turn but as evidence of that kindly attitude of interest and appreciation.\nI cannot leave the discussion of time-space pattern and the necessary accompaniment of precision and accurate judgment without calling attention to a turn requiring the active participation of seven men. Two of whom act as sensitized backrests for two others, who receive the somersaulter upon their upturned feet and help him on in his rhythmic course through the air. The initial lift is supplied by a companion rather than a teeterboard or a trampoline. The somersaulter is pitched up in upright position from the stage and makes a backward turn, alighting feet to feet upon the upper one of the first duo.\nwhich he is passed on with a turn to the feet of the upper one of the second duo; thence, with a similar turn, to the shoulders of a man standing on the ground; thence, with a turn, to the ground \u2014 three backward somersaults in a row from and to the seemingly most sensitive and most precarious of footings and then onto terra firma. The rhythm of the act itself is not overly complex, but it is sufficiently complicated by the physical and mental factors of its environment to make it worthy of note for its technical difficulties as well as for the beautiful flow of the bodily and spiritual movement.\n\nAs our eyes and ears have been drinking in the wonders of the desultory rehearsal, we have not seen a frown or an ugly look nor heard a harsh or bitter word. Of course, the people we are seeing in action are fine.\nA rhythmic time and space pattern - Fouk Sacksomersauijs in succession - from the Roman floor..to feet.To feet/IO shoulders, to floor. See Page 119 On Stage Number Three\n\nPeople, whether advanced in years or possessing social or caste connections, which would tend to improve conditions. But every person we have been watching has been taking his work seriously, treating others considerately, and seemed impelled by the love of the thing itself. All of which brings me back to what I have already said: that a work of art results primarily from activities undertaken for \"the love of the doing,\" the effect upon others being a secondary consideration. This second phase will be touched upon later. I have also said that manners in the circus and beyond the lot have undergone a change for the better.\n\nThe juxtaposition of these topics \u2014 impulse to create art versus improved manners in society.\nThe impulse to do beautifully and change manners and methods brings me to a consideration of how this impulse should be directed to create artists. The attitude of the old-time circus trainer, as depicted by Hey Rube writers, was to catch them young and beat it into them. Reluctantly, I am forced to believe that there is an element of truth in some tales that physical punishment is accorded to some pupils who may be backward in accomplishment. Toby Tyler, in the sixties, may have been \"beaten into equestrianism\" \u2014 but not in three weeks. The \"beat it into them\" phase was an expression of the psychology of an age when brutality was prevalent as an inspirer to good deeds, not only in the training ring but in public schools and in society.\nMany homes. I am not certain that the practice of urging the child onward and upward through fear and the application of physical punishment has altogether been abolished even in this socially progressive land. But methods more cruel than blows have been used for inducing beautiful accomplishment. As artists are both born and made, posture \u2014 for instance, like that assumed by \"James Melville, the Australian Horseman,\" upon the back of his running steed \u2014 may be the result of one of two processes. The first process is subjective, and the result depends upon the individual\u2019s own will and aesthetic perceptions in working out the problem. Direction in the case of one imbued with idealism and the will to achieve need only take the form of demonstration, counsel, and advice, as has already been indicated.\nThe second process involves applying external means to correct faulty expression and induce a correct attitude of mind and body. The body cannot function beautifully when the mind is wayward. There are many performers before the public today who underwent the former beneficial process. I have met a number of them. However, I know one performer, a very accomplished one, who, if we may believe what he once told me in confidence, was subjected to the second and less attractive process. To keep him on his toes while he practiced on the back of a moving horse, he was forced to wear shoes with tacks, points uppermost, at the heel, so that should he slump, he would have a sharp reminder.\nA sharp reminder, without the need for extraneous words or directions. If his chest hollowed and his shoulders came forward in the attempt to maintain equilibrium, his arms were bound back. And if his eyes sought the horse's back, his head was held high by a stiff, tall band or collar which propped up his chin. He became a fair worker, appearing in his earlier days as a \"charming young equestrienne.\" Today he clowns the act cleverly; for he is at heart a clown of many considerable accomplishments and never, when he ran away and joined the circus, wished or intended to become a rider. Fate, however, took him in hand and he has lived to tell the story \u2014 in private.\n\nI once told this story to a well-known artist of the sawdust arena who smiled and, having named the taskmaster of the tale, \"a gentle old soul,\" indicated his approval.\nMy friend had been drawing the long bow in repeating the story, as it coincides with what we were told was, in the old days, the continental method of instilling the spirit of beauty into uninspired youth or at least producing a form which would seem to correspond to the outer manifestation of that inner spirit. We have also heard of stinging lashes on the yet tender calves of prospective ballerinas and sharp raps across the knuckles of future masters of the violin. Admonitions for the good of the pupils and the glory of the art by instructors who were idealists or who had lost their tempers. These tales were from the continent or of continental masters. While they easily could be believed by people brought up in an atmosphere of subservience to autocratic power, they\nThe belief that a child destined for a circus artist career must be taken in hand at a very young age cannot easily be related to the psychology of the freeborn American citizen. However, we rest serene in the belief that educational and social ideals have improved in this country, and there is no longer a need to \"beat it into 'em\" nor is there, if there ever was, reason to \"catch 'em young.\"\n\nThere used to exist, and still does to some extent, the notion in the circus that the child destined to become a circus artist must be taken in hand at a very tender age. I have said, and maintain, that this applies only to contortionists and not in every case to them. Leitzel, the beautiful artist of the Roman rings, began serious training for her professional career at the age of thirteen. The Voltas, whose name will carry on far into the future.\n\nOn Stage Number Three.\n\nThe Voltas began their professional training at a young age.\nThe circus consisted of college graduates in England. Throughout their school and college years, and later, they worked on the bars for the simple joy of it. They were bank clerks when a manager discovered their skills and, seeing them, hired them for an American tour. In America, they met and associated themselves with the Hanlons, and Hanlon-Lees became a term to conjure with in the acrobatic world. The members of the marvelous Colleano family were old enough to have ideals and know what they wanted to do and why, before they embarked upon their circus career. Their background was not only of intellectual but of applied force in father and mother, who were noted, one for his strength and endurance, the other for her grace and charm. It was well in the circus.\nThe child should be allowed to lie fallow in any branch of artistic endeavor, playing creatively and imaginatively in a cultural environment until he becomes firm and well-knit in mind and body. Then he is ready to attempt self-expression with the agreeable certainty that he has something in him to express. The child should not be forced to undertake art expression until he feels the art urge, and this he must feel without having it pounded into him. The child is put at an early age into any profession or trade only for the selfish and unworthy purpose of making him a wage earner and a support to those who should be supporting and nurturing him. Once upon a time, in an enthusiastic mood, I wrote of the work of the child acrobat as \"glorified play.\" I later found it well to hedge my dictum about with qualifications.\nThe conditions, although I still believe that the child should consider his work as undertaken for the love of it, the attitude that makes it play. There are children of the circus, not yet in the ring when this incident occurred, but with longings and aspirations in that direction, who must be held in check or they would give parents and instructors no chance to rest and relax. My wife and I sat beneath the hospitable awning before the private dressing tent of a noted family of riders, intermarried with an equally noted family of aerialists. Both for the season were on the same large popular show. It was a Sunday in midsummer on the outskirts of a large manufacturing town. The sun shone, the grass and trees were green, the air was soft and languorous, and, all in all, the time between shows in the back yard was best spent.\nThe elders voted for rest and contemplation. At least, that's what the lounging elders in easy chairs thought in the shade, enjoying quiet conversation, writing letters, or plying needle and thread. But not the younger generation. Their active minds impelled them to bodily activity. And with the charming little girls, cousins, one of eight and two of nine, this meant bringing out the riding horse into the back yard and slinging the practice trapeze from the stay lines of the big top. These little enthusiasts could hardly take \"no\" for an answer, but finally yielded to the gentle influence of friend and earth and sky and quieted down with the rest of us. These children are keen for the work and it is no drudgery for them to go, as they do almost every weekday, into the ring during practice hour, where they are tenderly guided by father or mother.\n\nON STAGE NUMBER THREE\nThey brought out the riding horse into the backyard and hung the practice trapeze from the stay lines of the big top. The little enthusiasts, unable to take \"no\" for an answer, finally calmed down with the rest of us under the influence of their friends, the earth, the sky, and quiet. These children were eager for their work and found joy in it, attending practice almost every weekday and receiving gentle guidance from their parents in the ring.\nI uncle or aunt who let no fear intrude, mar the present or cloud the future. Knowing and sympathizing with child and grownup as I did, I rarely passed a more enjoyable day on a circus lot.\n\nA year later it was my pleasure to witness the professional debut of two of these children. The youngest appeared with her father and uncles as a confirmed equestrienne, and one of the others appeared as ringmaster in the popular family riding act, taking the place of her grandmother who was temporarily in hospital. The other of the two ten-year-olds was already in a family juggling act with her father, mother, and two elder sisters in the center ring.\n\nIn my boyhood days, a Sunday circus performance was unknown, and in the then existing state of society would not have been tolerated. Sunday for Big Top Rhythms.\nSome Saturdays, our town would be graced with the circus. It would arrive and remain quietly on the pitch until sundown of the next day. Therefore, eluding the watchful eyes of anxious parents, I would find myself, on occasion, in the backyard on a Sunday afternoon, intriguing a kind-hearted acrobat into giving me pointers. I did not realize then, as I do now, what a blessing a quiet Sunday afternoon could be to overworked performers and attendants, doing one-day stands in towns reached over rough and muddy or dusty country roads. I thought of these old days as I enjoyed, on the particular Sunday I write about, the hospitality of my friends beneath the fly of the dressing tent and in the cookhouse.\nOf course, we had seen the matinee performance before entering the back yard to purchase tickets for Ring Number Three. In Ring Number Three, after a social call in the dressing tent, we watched a turn in the air, discussed its technique and spirit, and made comparisons with other arts. We applied mathematics and formulas to acrobatic turns. We watched horses in the ring going against our preconceived notions of how horses should run due to our ingrained and deep-seated racial tendencies involving direction of movement, both mental and physical. A bugle sounded, the band began to play.\nIn the horde of performers, horses, elephants, and camels, fantastically costumed and dazzlingly caparisoned, individuals begin to distinguishable as units fall smoothly into line out of what seemed inextricable confusion. The \"spec\" has vanished through the back door into the vast and gloomy spaces of the top. We drop into the dressing tent to chat quietly with a few men who, due to contract provisions, are not required to appear in the spectacle. The dressing top is a canvas of considerable magnitude, for under it hundreds of performers, men and women, find shelter. The entrance giving upon the yard is just off the center of the long side. From this entrance, there extends across the tent on the short axis a space a few yards wide, walled in on either side with canvas. This forms a narrow passage leading to the dressing rooms.\nThe common meeting ground for the sexes. Beyond the right wall is the women's dressing room, and to the left, the men's. The men sit on their trunks or recline in camp or steamer chairs, reading, writing, or conversing. Or, perhaps, women embroider or make costumes while men paint, model, and design. We are invited to sit and chat while letting our eyes take in the surroundings. We note the prevailing orderliness. Along the center of the aisles, which parallel the shorter axis, are innumerable pails of fresh water for the scrub down which follows. Each performer has a particular space allotted to him for the season. When he comes into the tent on a new pitch, he finds his trunk in its proper location, placed there by the property man. A tall man stands nearby.\nAn iron rod is driven into the ground beside each tree trunk, and on its branching arms are hung make-up mirrors, street clothes, and personal belongings of the performer. Suddenly, all is bustle and activity, for the procession has returned to the yard. The fantastic garments are being laid aside, and the performers are donning their tights and preparing for their turns. Your ear catches a snatch of song and bandied word. Your eye notes the leisurely application of grease paint and make-up and catches a glint of color and the glitter of spangles. But there is no evidence of haste. All is moving with the artist's deliberation and sureness of touch; no call-boys, no hurry-ups! Indeed, you may be engaged in leisurely conversation, unconscious of externals, when one of your companions remarks apologetically: \u201cWill you excuse me?\u201d (IN RING NUMBER THREE)\nLet us enter the big top through the back door with two of the men with whom we have been conversing - two gentle, restrained and quiet-spoken men of the third generation of circus folk - and watch their performance, marveling at it as I tell you something of it. Beneath the frame, an ample net is stretched so that you may watch the performance without nervous strain, as seldom a man falls and, with the net, the probability of a serious termination to a fall is minimized; with these men, I should say it was eliminated, as they have brought to perfection the art of falling. You watch them doing their flyaways, somersaults, twisters and pirouettes or spins in the air, catches and returns - all executed with perfection of form, all expressions of abstract beauty.\nIdeal beauty \u2014 while I describe, as well as I can, in big top rhythms, the turn with which Ernest Clarke and his brother, Charles, conclude their act. Charles is pendant, head downward, from a rhythmically swinging trapeze some yards away from and facing his brother. At a signal from Charles, Ernest, who is poised on the distant perch attuning himself to the rhythm, grasps with both hands the bar of his trapeze, which moves through a longer arc than does that of his brother, and, with a vigorous initial movement, makes a rapid swing, at the end of which he leaves his bar, makes two complete backward revolutions in the air \u2014 that is, throws a double back somersault \u2014 follows with a pirouette or full turn on a vertical axis at right angles to the axis of the somersaults, catches, and is caught by, his brother.\nwho  returns  him  with  a  pirouette  to  the  bar  and \nthence  to  the  perch  or  pedestal  from  which  he \nstarted ;  and  this  without  a  break  in  the  complex  and \nsynchronized  rhythm  of  the  factors  in  this  entranc\u00ac \ning  equation  of  movement. \nThis  act  appears  to  be,  and  generally,  though  er\u00ac \nroneously,  is  announced  as  \u201c  two  somersaults  and  a \ntwister,\u201d  but  really  it  is  even  more  difficult  of  accom\u00ac \nplishment  than  that,  involving  as  it  does  complication \nof  rhythm.  A  twister  is  a  turn  in  two  directions  at \none  and  the  same  time  and,  in  conjunction  with  a \nsomersault,  merely  involves  a  continuity,  though \nwith  a  thematic  variation,  of  the  original  movement. \nIN  RING  NUMBER  THREE \nThe  pirouette  or  spin  upon  a  vertical  axis  means,  as \nyou  may  readily  perceive,  the  introduction  and  har\u00ac \nmonizing  of  an  entirely  new  element.  These  move\u00ac \nments,  the  twister  and  the  pirouette,  as  we  learned  in \nWatching the tumblers in Ring Number Two involves entering the third dimension. I know this from personal experience as well as my association with artists. Transitioning into the third dimension and achieving a rhythm in the three dimensions of space induces a joy akin to ecstasy. What would a fourth dimension mean to an acrobat!\n\nAn act such as this does not come all at once, perfectly formed from a clear sky. Its final accomplishment requires spiritual struggle and a mental and physical discipline almost beyond belief.\n\nHowever, before I speak of that, let me call your attention to the fact that in the performance you have just witnessed, you have seen no third party grasp the trapeze which the performer left swinging in the air and, at the opportune moment, return it.\nIt returns to him. On the contrary, you have seen the trapeze come back, of its own volition, to the point at which it may conveniently be grasped when the performer is returned to it by his partner. This fact marks this act as highly superior and unique in the aerial realm. The appearance of that free swinging bar at the right place, at the right time, is bound up with that dominion of the spirit over mind, body and inert matter. In it is involved the pendulum movement of the trapezes, the radii and length of the arcs through which they must swing, the synchronization, rhythm and speed of the movement, and the manner and force with which the performer leaves the bar when he makes his turn in the air. These are the factors.\nphysical factors which, through spiritual direction, will receive correlation and coordination. Let us remember that whether or not the net is underneath the performer, no mechanical means for keeping the body from falling can be used in working up an act such as this. Now, once again, we are in the dressing tent. \"Ernie,\" I say, \"I often marvel at that last turn; its rhythm is so complicated.\" Then, with a quick turn of the subject: \"You must have had a few falls into the net before you got that act to perfection. Five hundred, say?\" \"Well,\" he answers, \"five hundred would hardly be a circumstance. We tried it at each and every rehearsal for a year and no fewer than ten times at a rehearsal before our hands ever came together.\" (And every try meant a fall into the net.) Then\nWe caught and held $ and in three and a half years more - four and a half in all, longer than a college course - we reached the point where we thought we would be justified in presenting it in public.\n\nThink of it, you people, who, comfortably disposed in your studios and libraries, are writing essays, painting pictures, modeling figures, learning pieces on the piano or the fiddle for the edification of the public and gratification of self - think of it! More than two thousand falls, each fraught with danger to life or limb, before the hands of the two performers came together; and then three and a half years involving many hundred failures before patience and endurance, courage and determination had mastered the order and rhythm out of which came an act of transcending beauty so approximately perfect in execution.\nCaution: its authors could conscientiously submit it to the consideration of a highly critical and equally uncomprehending public. Having drawn the attention of dilettante and professional to other lines of expression, we find this a convenient place to dwell upon certain relationships in the arts, as well as upon creative and technical differences. This act, which we have just witnessed, along with others of varying character which already have or still are to come to our notice, requires for its execution technical perfection as well as superphysical qualities in the performers beyond that demanded by any or all other arts; for, as I have said, life and limb are involved as well as pride of profession and of artistic accomplishment.\n\nIn Ring Number Three.\nNot only are these performers fine technicians; they are creative artists of a rare type. No theatrical illusion of the first time need envelop their performances - each individual act is a new creation - a new birth. I am aware that this statement, as regards creativity, may be challenged, but not by one who, besides being temperamentally and physically equipped, has had personal experience of the art. Such a one well knows that each and every turn successfully and artistically accomplished - and no turn is successful if it be not artistic - is a new adventure, a new act of creation, even though it may have been performed one thousand times before. No somersault thrown is a copy of the ones done previously. The same mental attitude, the same power of coordination, the same rhythmic impulse, the same fine frenzy, all are present in the last as in the first.\nIn the first and each subsequent accomplishment, a thing is perfected. This does not hold in painting, sculpture, architecture, literature, nor musical composition. A thing in these arts, once done, is done once and for all and can never respond to the call of creative impulse again. Whatever is done a second time in these arts, whether by the originator himself or by another, is merely a lifeless copy, not a living creation.\n\nThe unenlightened (shall I say?) hold that acrobatics is mere virtuosity and exists on a lower plane than, for instance, singing, instrumentalizing, and acting. In the matter of intellectual and emotional content, while the four activities might be placed on a par, yet on the creative and constructive side, acrobatics stands:\n\nIn the creative and constructive side, acrobatics stands.\nIn singing, acting, and instrumental music, the basic form is contributed by another in text and score, while the virtuoso contributes only an emotional interpretation. The creative, constructive principle is lacking in the performer and absent from the performance. In acrobatics, as in architecture, the constructive principle is basic and inherent in the conception and in the performance. It is a spiritual factor or content which does not inhere in virtuosity. The constructive or structural principle furnishes the basic form through which the spirit manifests itself. Possibly the acrobat who is just an artist has the same intellectual limitations outside his art as any other artist. But the acrobat is not solely an interpreter. One who has the constructive principle alive within him cannot rest content.\nA tent with mere interpretation \u2014 with merely singing, playing, or acting; that is, in mere virtuosity. He must construct, he must create form; hence, he should be a painter, a sculptor, an acrobat, or an architect \u2014 in the ascending order given. In speaking of painter, sculptor, and architect in this connection, it goes without saying that I have in mind only the creator, and not the innumerable horde of copyists and imitators.\n\nUnderlying all these beautiful movements in tumbling, in juggling, and in mid-air is an intense emotionalism \u2014 controlled by the mathematics of the mind. I am using mathematics as applied to aesthetics in its true spiritual meaning and not in the pseudo-scientific sense in which it is applied by \"dynamic-symmetrists,\" \"ad-quadratum-ites,\" and those other mechanistic minds who would reduce art to a mere mathematical formula.\nAll aesthetic expression in the plastic and graphic arts should depend on a previously constructed geometric framework, whether of squares, rectangles, triangles, revolving diagonals or arcs, or any and all in combination. A sufficiently learned and practiced mathematician, given all the factors of the equation \u2013 and they are numerous \u2013 could plot the curve of an acrobat's body center and the gyrations about that center as it traverses its beautiful path in space. However, woe betide the individual, acrobat or otherwise, who attempts to achieve the turn by following the mathematical formula. The first attempt would never be followed by a second. If the victim of the mathematical fallacy survived to essay another turn, he would likely be unable to do so.\nCall upon experience, instinct, and feeling rather than Big Top Rhythms. In contrast to a living art like acrobatics, geometric and dynamic theories of design appear palpably reduced to rank absurdity when applied to architecture other than the copy-plate type. In a book called The Meaning of Architecture, which I published many years ago, I defined art as the expression in terms of beauty of a reconciliation to the struggle of life. Religion or ethics, as distinguished from theology, is an extension of that reconciliation in the field of goodness. The function of art, in accepting or reconciling to the struggle involved in all upward striving and progress, is to make that struggle beautiful in itself.\nIn architecture and acrobatics, the opportunity to bring out the best in man and give the final flourish to character development is welcomed. Art's relationship with architecture and acrobatics is so close, as the struggle in both fields involves interplay of stresses and strains. In architecture, the struggle pertains to the relationships of structural stresses and strains acting through inert matter made vital through the human spirit in the original conception and design. In acrobatics, the struggle involves bodily stresses and strains producing beautiful patterns through the play of the inhering spirit upon the mind and vitalized matter. In architecture, inert material reacts to the external impress of the mind and spirit in man. In acrobatics, the vitalized body reacts to the mind and spirit inhering in it.\n\nIn Ring Number Three.\nIn the nature and evolution of acrobatics and architecture, some believe the body and spirit are distinct entities. The spirit, as some propose, is susceptible to disembodiment. However, as we observed cosmic forces at work during the first performance on Stage Two, we saw chaos, where the spirit of life and creation resolved into differentials. Each unit carried its own spirit and expressed it uniquely, reaching its highest expression in man. Therefore, my concept is that in acrobatics, the spirit reacts on itself through the medium of a vitalized body, which would be non-existent without the spirit. Conversely, in architecture, inert, insensate mass is made to carry a spiritual message through reaction.\nTo an external spirit resident in man, architecture carries its message visually long after the spirit which impressed itself upon the stone has vanished. The beautiful body of the acrobat, like that of all his human fellows, crumbles into dust with the departure of the spirit. Yet this is really an inversion. It were truer to say that as long as the architectural medium exists, it will carry the spiritual message of the human who endowed it with life, and that when the human body ceases to function, the spirit goes out like a candle flame in the breeze.\n\nWhile we have been discussing certain mathematical relationships in the arts and have been contemplating the deeper matter of a spiritual and bodily essence which are one, lackeys have been preparing the rings for the various equestrian turns. They have been doing this as we pondered the unity of spirit and body in art.\nHave spread heavy circular carpets in the rings, leaving a yard or more of turf or soil between carpet and ringbank for a track upon which the horses may run. The equestrians, in at least two of the rings, will indulge in cartwheels, round-offs, or full round-offs upon leaving or in regaining the horse's back, and the carpet will serve as a tumbling mat. In all rings, we shall note a demonstration of inverted or reversed racial expression which challenges our interest and, later on, our comment.\n\nLet us now watch closely the act as presented in Ring Number Three by a family of clever riders throwing somersaults forward and backward on the bare backs of running steeds. We shall watch this turn to the exclusion of that in Ring Number Two, the center ring, for the reason that in Ring Number Three we may study to better advantage.\nThe harmonic relationship between horse and rider. A horse moving around the center ring is equipped with two charming ladies, \"from the Urals,\" directed by their equally charming mother. They display a series of statuesque poses, many difficult, with graceful transitions. Their horse has been trained to the steadiest of gaits and is little else than a smoothly running machine bearing a diminutive stage or pedestal, with hardly other than a forward movement around the ring. The intervening pad prevents horse and rider from appearing, indeed from being, integral one with the other.\n\nThe somersaulter is shown at the half-turn. Big top rhythms.\n\nHorse and rider: the harmonic relationship. A horse moving around the center ring is adorned with two charming ladies from the Urals, guided by their equally charming mother. They present a sequence of statuesque poses, several of them challenging, executed with fine technique and showmanship. Their horse has been trained to the most consistent of gaits and is essentially a smoothly operating machine carrying a miniature stage or pedestal, with barely anything other than a forward motion, around the ring. The interposing pad separates horse and rider, making them seem and be distinct entities.\n\nThe somersaulter performs at the half-turn. Big top rhythms.\nIn Ring Number Three, the horse lopes around with a moderate speed and distinct up and down movement, trained specifically for the somersault rider. Observe closely as the rider synchronizes the rise for the turn with the horse's upward movement. A somersault cannot be thrown from a yielding or sinking base. The somersault rider accommodates himself to the horse's up and down motion, which is also trained in tempo and movement, allowing the rider to successfully throw a series of somersaults.\nThe rider should alight on the horse's back at the right moment to take the rise. Contrary to the expressed opinion of certain authors I have read and artists I have spoken with \u2013 authors writing only from hearsay and who ought to know better, and artists fortunately for themselves stronger in technique than in theory \u2013 the forward movement of the horse is not to be reckoned with in throwing the somersault, either forward or backward. The motion of the horse is imparted to the rider's body. If he jumps straight up, as he would on the floor to do a \"spot jump,\" he will inevitably land exactly where he started, which is exactly what he wishes to do. The horse will not \"run out from under\" a rider who jumps straight into the air.\nAny horse on it, will move out from under one who attempts a spotter on the floor. If the earth did not impart its motion to a body on it, as it does, and as a horse does to its rider, a horse could never be made to run in a circle. One attempting a somersault on horse or floor might land many feet away from where he intended. What would this complication do to Charley Fish's \"backward back\"!\n\nCharles Fish, to whom I referred in the previous chapter as the most brilliant and daring of the old school, consistently performed a feat known as the \"backward back\"; that is, he stood facing in the opposite direction to that in which the horse was moving, with his toes near to the root of the horse's tail. From this position, he threw the back somersault, landing generally on the spot where he started, or near it.\nThe horse is not more than two or three inches from its head when riding. He played it safe by doing this much of a \"fallback\" instead of a spotter, as there is always the tendency to gain in throwing the spotter, and the slightest gain from his position would have resulted in a spill in the ring. This is why I wondered what the combined movement of horse, earth, and solar system would have done to Charley Fish's backward fall had the laws of physics for the moment failed to operate!\n\nBut now let us note what may be observed equally in the other rings: the inverted or reversed racial expression referred to above, and let us comment somewhat at length upon the phenomenon. Our interest will not be lessened by the fact that we have had the Arabs before us recently. We note that the horse is moving from right to left or in a counterclockwise direction.\nThe direction is opposite to a watch's movement, that is, counter-clockwise. This is the Oriental movement and differs from what one would find in the West. The direction is the same as that taken on our race tracks, where horses move from right to left past the judge's stand. Our foot races and races in the gymnasium are run in the same direction. I have analyzed this situation and have solved the problem satisfactorily to myself, except that I cannot reconcile it with the Arabian practice, which is to run horse and camel races in the direction opposite to ours. That is, the Moors and Arabs race their animals and propel their bodies in their long stretches, which are peculiar to their system, from left to right.\n\nIn Ring Number Three.\nI have witnessed this phenomenon not only under the big top but also under burning skies and on the yellow sands of the Sahara desert. Why this inversion of racial tendencies, I cannot say. It is possible that the Arabs, who have no predilection for team work and who do not ride in serried ranks, find it easier to avoid accidental contact with their individually moving neighbors by keeping to the right. With us, however, I have come to the conclusion that it is a matter of taking the easier way; of letting nature take its course. Our right side is more fully developed. In general, our right leg moves with longer, stronger strides than does our left. To overcome this propensity to move in circles to the left, we emphasize the left stride in training our soldiers.\nWe force them to put the left foot forward, and the rhythm of the march is left,..., left,..., left. BIG TOP RHYTHMS right, left,... and so on. These words, in this rhythm, are in the mouth of the drill sergeant in training raw recruits, and are read unconsciously by the well-trained soldier into the sharp tap and lilting roll of the drum when the army is upon the march and wherever rhythmic movement is possible or essential.\n\nProbably the Arabs have the same natural tendency as ourselves toward leftward movement, though, unlike us, they pass from behind to the right of a stationary or less rapidly moving person or object. An age-long employment of this method to avoid unnecessary or unfortunate clash of moving bodies or forces may well account for the present tendency of the Arab to move in curves or circles.\nThe right. What this may suggest to the student of racial movement and tendencies may not be altogether complimentary for us of the West, as it would seem to indicate that we have been and still are willing, in this particular matter at least, to let our innately unbalanced distribution of muscular powers dominate our course. Meanwhile, the Arab has overcome that weakness and, against that handicap, has finally made himself master of sustained and poetic movement. This conclusion does not altogether coincide with our present notion of the Oriental Che, which in regard to the Arab must be read, \"What will be, will be \u2014 as I will it to be.\"\n\nThis general clockwise movement of the West as opposed to the counter-clockwise movement of the East is interestingly presented in a comparison of the manners.\nThe Oriental writes and reads from the bottom of the page upward in a right to left direction, while the Occidental writes and reads from the top of the page downward and from left to right. In general, the former displays more emotionalism or spiritual uplift, and the latter, more mental poise. This psychological difference between the East and the West is reflected in the Greek mood, which underlies the philosophy of the West. This mood, imbued with poise, balance, self-control, capacity for deed and thought, unity, and serenity of design and purpose, penetrates into the text.\nThe philosophy of the Middle Ages incorporated elements from the East that influenced religion, civics, and art. This Greek mood permeated the Middle Ages through the Renaissance and into the modern age, despite the apparent dominance of jazz, an emotional form not rooted in the wildest spiritual excesses of the East. If art is, as I believe, a spiritual reconciliation to the struggle of life, which is the Greek ideal, and if acrobatics, as I also believe, is an integral and exalted form of art, then the higher life demonstrates itself not in denial but in acceptance.\nIn enhancing and beautifying the struggle, and in beautifying, removing it from the material and bestial plane, it must be recognized how deeply concerned in aesthetic expression are these innate and sharply differentiated racial movements 3. We cannot be fantastic nor far afield in relating these movements to what we have witnessed in these rings, in the matter of the Oriental and Occidental tumbling and the movement of horses, as participating in an art expression. One has only to contrast the brutal exhibition of the clumsy, frustrated movement and incompleted rhythm of the football field with the smoothly flowing and fully completed rhythms of the big top to realize that there is nothing of aesthetic idealism in the former, while in the latter is an expression of almost unalloyed beauty.\n\nBefore leaving the study of racial and individual expressions.\nLet us examine another demonstration of trapeze acts, specifically the \"return\" act. In this type of performance, a performer leaves his perch or pedestal, swings from a trapeze bar, is caught and returned to that bar from which he swings himself up to the perch. Before the return act became popular or developed its present dreamy, rhythmic conventions, another form of aerial artistry thrilled the public through the grace and daring of its exponents. Known as the \"casting\" act, this variation may or may not involve a swinging trapeze; its presence or absence is incidental.\nThe casting act may be highly sensational in a manner recognized as our description proceeds. The catchers, of whom there must be at least two, are at the same time throwers. The person of the flyer is passed back and forth between them. These catchers are supported by bars fixed horizontally and parallel to each other some fifteen to eighteen inches apart. The knees of the catcher are bent over one of these bars while his feet, toes up, are under the other. The leverage gained permits the catcher to cast the flyer with tremendous force in a direction forward or backward, under or over. In this rehearsal, we shall see the flyer mount to a pedestal above two casters sitting upright side by side facing him. Each caster grasps with his two hands the single hand or wrist of the flyer. (Ring Number Three)\nThe flyer plunges downward and is swung in a wide curve underneath the casters at the right moment, releasing him to perform a triple back somersault followed by a half-twister to the catcher's hands. At the completion of his revolutions, the half-twister brings flyer and catcher face to face for a grasp of the flyer's wrist. Note the technical difficulty and beauty of this act. The backward turns are thrown in a counter direction to the trapeze flyer's trajectory.\nFrom the trapeze artist's stance and direction, the turn involves the flyer traveling with his back to the movement's direction, an extremely complicating factor in the equation of rhythm. Readers who have done a \"flying Dutchman\" from the springboard into the pool will readily appreciate what the turn involves. From his initial leap, the flyer is traveling against the direction of movement, making the rhythm equation more complex. A delicate judgment is necessary for the two casters to relate these factors of time and space to the spiritual ordinates and abscissas \u2013 no fixed physical base lines are here; all is feeling and emotion. The casters must coordinate perfectly the factors of time and force or the flyer will be flung off course and even crash against the frame. Harry Potter of the casting Potters \u2013 \"The Peerless\"\nPotter, approaching three score and ten, has a brain teeming with turns which he diagrams and teaches to his boys. The position of hands, feet, body and head are indicated on these diagrams, which are so numerous that it would take all the casting teams in the world to materialize them all, as these shorthand transcriptions cannot be played at sight like a musical score but take, as we have seen, months or years for their mastery. Indeed, months may elapse before even technically trained fingers are able to find the keys! When keys are found and composition mastered, the turn is a concentrated essence of skill and beauty. The three somersaults and half-twister just described are completed in the time-space of one and one-fifth seconds.\n\nThe \u201cthrowover\u201d is a feature of the Potters\u2019 art.\nThe Four Casters, a very clever team, deeply appealed to me in my early years, when bodily movement was enough, regardless of spiritual and racial implications. In the throw, the flyer is received by caster number two from eighteen feet away, completely encircling caster number two and his bars. It is then returned to caster number one (now catcher) with a somersault, a full twister, or whatever movement the turn may call for.\n\nIf we regard these performances in and above Ring Number Three, high in the air and on the ground, as something other than demonstrations of physical prowess merely, if we regard them rather as expressions of individual and racial psychology and movement, we shall see how deeply they are related.\nTo life and how intimately they touch our deep sentiments and emotions.\n\nOn Stage Number Four\ni60\nSee Page 174\n\nOn Stage Number Four\n\nUpon this stage we witness some delectable and some very stupid faking, and are led to comment upon the same and to question the propriety of faking an act with intent to deceive or of uttering palpably false statements when announcing turns.\n\nNot only in word but also in picture has the circus offended. Its art is pure, but in the exploitation of that art it is possible to err, and not always through ignorance.\n\nFakers have fed upon human credulity from the infancy of the race. They early invaded the field of religion and, acting for personal gain and from lust for power, have so continued to work upon man\u2019s superstitious nature. To the same purpose they have invaded the domain of politics \u2014 if indeed.\nThat domain were not established for their special benefit. To the same purpose they have entered the field of medicine, and in their lust for riches and power have devised a means for driving tandem the individual\u2019s thirst for spiritual welfare and his craving for bodily health. Sometimes one is ahead, and sometimes the other. Now the faker is laying his heavy hand upon the art of the circus.\n\nDown through the ages, the acrobatic art has been free from the machinations of the faker. The clown and mountebank have ever been in evidence with their fooling, which, however, never was faking with intent to deceive. The accomplishments of the acrobat were compounded of courage, daring, strength, and agility. Any one of these factors might be burlesqued or caricatured, but it could not be faked. If\nIn early Greece and on the Isle of Crete, when acrobatics were an art and an exercise beloved by the people and acclaimed by them in the awards bestowed for successful performance, there was no faking in the ring when the infuriated bull bore down upon its agile tormentor. The consequent action was compounded, as noted above, of courage, daring, strength, and agility. The bullfighter did not thrust a dart into the neck of the onrushing beast when the sharp, pointy object was within reach.\ndead on stage number four, the spectators witnessed and applauded a man performing a forward somersault on the back of a bull. He could choose to land on its back or upright on the ground to further enrage the frustrated beast. The man's purpose was not to dodge the bull but to clear his immense bulk with a somersault from the ground. Though undignified and evasive, the spectators did not feel insulted, as they would have if the action had been premeditated frustration. I, however, feel insulted when year after year I see the same wire walker, outwardly appearing as a perfect lady.\nDancing with verve and grace on the slender strand, feign a fall after a simple leap over a small table held above the wire by an \"accomplice.\" The seemingly flustered lady regains the wire and proceeds to do the trick, still with much unnecessary grimacing and apparent struggle to maintain equilibrium, amid the plaudits and calls of encouragement of a horde of stupid spectators who have failed to note that year after year, performance after performance, the same trick is pulled off without a hitch at about the same time in rings One and Three under the same canvas.\n\nThe juggler, whose performance in Ring Number Two we witnessed but a short while since, did a bit of very clever faking. You will remember that among the objects which he was so deftly directing along the interweaving orbits was a fragile glass dish.\nwhich, at one turn, seemed to have eluded his grasp. With a suspended beat of the heart, you awaited the crash! But he, gravely, rather nonchalantly, though with a twinkle in his eye which you may not have noted, stretched out his long arm and retrieved the seemingly doomed object within the hundredth part of a second of the moment at which you had expected it to hit the floor. That was clever faking, and I love it for the thrill it gives me as well as for its demonstration of perfect art. For, although it has been practiced hundreds of times, it gives what William Gillette, actor-dramatist, in an essay upon the technique of the histrionic art, is pleased to call the \"illusion of the first time.\" I have yet to see our friend the juggler \"miss it\" the first time. I have yet to see the \"lady\" on the wire do it the \"first time.\"\nand that is what disgusts me. In stark contrast, the comical clown, who assists in the triple bar performance at the top of the tent, falls into the net. This act is one replete with grace and beautiful movement, requiring high technical skill. The artists performing it never fall. That is left to the clown. He starts for the turn, hesitates, fearing seemingly that he is not going to make it, scuttles back to his bar, and seems absolutely frustrated. He gathers up courage, tries again, and misses. His efforts to right himself in the air and maintain balance.\nEquilibrium in an upright position during the fall conveys a startling effect on spectators, who applaud not the frustrated achievement but the premeditated failure. This comical and feigned fall leads me naturally to another equally feigned but not at all comical. Alfredo Codona, of the flying trapeze, whose triple somersaults to his brother\u2019s hands are world famous, made more than one mistake, even after achieving what may be called perfection in the turn. One of these mistakes, so the story goes, was so spectacular that he worked up certain elements of it into a stunt which now and again, but not very frequently, he would \u201cspring\u201d upon a throng already thrilled by the beauty and daring of his performance. I had never had occasion to witness this fake; indeed, I never had heard of it until, one evening in the backstage.\nBefore the show, a friend among the aerialists asked me if I had ever seen it and said, \"Alfredo is going to put it on this evening.\" Therefore, from my seat just off the center and in good range, I watched for the fall. The announcer seemed particularly uncouth in his manner at that turn. Had I not known, in part at least, what was about to happen, I might have entertained an \"illusion of the unexpected\"; but my body, sensitive to movement, reacts to reality\u2014and to unreality perhaps. There seemed to be a hesitation in the turn which was not in accord with the beauty and freedom of the previous movements. I was prepared for the fall into the net, but not for the climax. Codona struck, with intention, near the edge of the net and, throwing out his arms wildly.\nIf seeking an object to grasp, it bounded out of the net onto the floor of the ring, breaking his fall not by grasping the rim with his hand, but by catching it under his arm. It was all very deft and clever. But knowing that Alfredo was not hurt, nothing more serious possibly, than a few square inches of skin might be scraped from his chest and from the underside of his arm, I cast my glance aloft to where Lalo, the catcher, sat swinging quite unconcernedly in his trapeze. Mam\u2019selle on the perch smiled as though a fall like that were of ordinary everyday occurrence. I have been told that Leitzel, just previous to her marriage with Codona, placed a ban on that act. And I am glad she did, for, clever and startling as was the trick, it was a fake and, as such, unworthy of the great art of the Codonas. But let us not take it away from the text.\nAlfredo Codona's lack of seriousness or commitment is evident in his affection for \"BIG TOP RHYTHMS\" and their \"stupendous foolery,\" often referred to as his \"fall from grace.\" However, there are other artists in the circus whose sensitivity to their audience prevents such performances. Con Colleano is one such example. He is not seeking the title of \"great Con Colleano\"; it was bestowed upon him by the publicity men, despite their tendency towards circus hype. Con Colleano is indeed great. A more wonderful performer on the tight wire has not been seen in our day, and a more consummate artist of the silver strand has not, to my knowledge, appeared before a modern public. Just what the ancient Greeks saw upon the wire in detail is unknown.\nWe have no definite record of the detailed performance of the bullbaiters and acrobats that eclipsed or paralleled what we now see. However, we know that they enthralled spectators at the games and circuses. The somersaulting bullbaiter was clever, as clever as some performers of modern times. The Greeks, who were idealists, could be satisfied with and acclaim only the best.\n\nBut as for our modern wire workers, other men quite possibly have done and are doing the single features of Con Colleano\u2019s act. However, none has done the turns so consistently and with such beauty of form as he does. He does not concentrate on the back somersaults.\n\nOn Stage Number Four.\nIn over sixty-five years of comprehensive circus experience, none has done the turns so consistently and beautifully as he.\nA magazine writer described Saul's \"sault\" as the focus, featuring his forward somersault. Saul concentrates intensely during his entire performance on the wire. He faces unperceivable conditions: light, temperature, noise, and air currents, as well as sudden distractions near and far. To execute his somersaults, flips, and pirouettes on the steel cable without assistance from a balancing pole or umbrella, Saul must have his extraordinarily sensitive body under almost superhuman control. Inevitably, he misses a turn and leaves the wire, and sometimes, in passing, he grazes the wire with a painful shock to muscle or nerve. However, this is not what truly hurts Saul.\nColleano: what hurts is the fact that he knows that among the spectators, some pity and, worse, some profess to think that the loss of equilibrium and consequent fall were faked in order to impress upon the public the difficulty of the turn. Although my mind reverts to Codona\u2019s byplay, I most deeply appreciate Con Colleano\u2019s feeling that a consummate artist, always striving for perfection and knowing the deep satisfaction which comes from perfect achievement, rests ill at ease under any impeachment of his integrity as an artist.\n\nThere is in circus ballyhoo a tendency toward exaggeration which is amusing while it operates in the abstract but which may be annoying to the listener who feels that, concretely, his intelligence is being impugned. I sat, quite recently, through the performance of one big circus with a visiting clown from\nanother big show, and I was interested in his comments from one on the inside. The loud speaker directed attention to what was going on upon the hippodrome track or was about to go on in or over one of the rings. \"That's a lie,\" murmured my friend with quiet detachment on at least three separate occasions; but he knew that I would entirely agree. We discussed the necessity for statements which implied that the people in the chairs and on the benches were \"a bunch of Rubes\" with no experience of circuses and no memory. What, we asked each other, is to be gained by announcing that so-and-so \"is the only aerialist in the world to do a triple somersault to the hands of his brother\"? And while this statement was being made under canvas (1931) it was for no special reason appearing in a book by a prominent circus writer.\nAnd probably they knew better. Would it not have been sufficient, in calling attention to the particular act we were about to witness as one of supreme skill, to state that probably it was unapproached today in beauty and finish? Both my circus friend and I would have been willing to grant that, although it was not so long ago that another aerialist, knowing that I was present at the performance with friends, sent a message that he would like to do us honor and would introduce into his act an extra turn, any one of his extras we might choose. As it had been some time since his triples had been featured, we suggested that he throw one for us, which he did in the middle of the act, concluding, as was his custom, with the double and pirouette, a movement much more complicated and difficult than the triple.\nErnest Clarke completed his triples, double, and pirouettes as you saw when he performed under unique conditions, the free trapeze returning to the point where it could be grasped by the returning flyer without the intervention of a third human agency. \"This turn,\" the announcer used to say, \"has been accomplished by no other aerial performer,\" and, for a novelty, that was true! But even if we ignore conditions and take things as they seem, it is impossible to conceive of a more flowing, finished, and beautiful turn in the air than the one presented by Alfredo Codona in his triple somersault to his brother's hands and his double pirouetted return to his bar and perch Number Four. It is safe to say that Codona's act in its entirety has never been surpassed.\nWithout the perfect functioning of the catcher or carrier, there would be no graceful turn to a catch and no birdlike return to the perch, whether the swinging bar comes back in response to the impulse imparted by the leaper when he leaves it to make his turn, or whether it be dropped by a third party into the position in which it can be caught upon the return. The return depends more on the strength, accuracy, and judgment of the catcher than on the agility of the leaper, however much of a factor that agility may be. No runner was ever \"thrown out\" at second base by a ball which bounced against a backstop \u2014 never thrown out unexpectedly.\nThe judgment and accuracy of the catcher intervened! In this beautiful movement, the leaper is not flying, nor the flyer leaping, however much appearances may suggest it. Instead, a performer, no longer leaper or flyer, is being hurdled through the air. The catcher has instantly transformed himself into a human catapult endowed with clear vision, strength, and accurate judgment.\n\nGreat artistic advantage accrues to the Codonas and the Clarkonians due to the fact that throughout the entire existence of the teams, the catcher has never been changed, nor has the leaper. In both cases, leaper and catcher are blood brothers, descended through generations of circus folk.\n\nContemplating the beauty, skill, and rare display of judgment in the matter of interrelated movements.\ntime and space as affecting the artists of the trapeze, we have lost sight, for the moment, of the unfortunate tendencies to do more than exaggerate in the ballyhoo, the tendency to misstate. This tendency, which has become a proclivity, extends to the pictorial art of the circus. You will remember how as boys we studied intently the pictures which had been posted in advance. After this study course, it was inevitable that we should know what we were to behold and should look for in the act. I do not recollect that we were disappointed when we saw no little blacks bitten in two by alligators and no bushmen crushed and swallowed by constrictors. These banners may have frightened some fearful pickaninnies from the lot and even deterred some bearded countrymen from entering the kid show. Some of us were not long in coming to an appreciation of the artistry and skill of the performers, rather than relying on the sensationalist imagery of the advertisements.\nWe never took seriously the complaining attitude of those who wanted their dime back at the freak show because they didn't see \"that,\" \"that,\" and \"that.\" But we, who had seen and tried things and knew what to expect, would stand before the posters and say among or to ourselves, \"They didn't have that,\" and \"They didn't have that,\" and \"They didn't have that!\" All of which had been promised. We didn't mind that the hippopotamus had \"died two days previously\" on another pitch and all we were to see was its hide stuffed with straw.\n\nOn Stage Number Four, the freak show obstructed the way to the main show with its crowds of wide-eyed and open-mouthed spectators. Even as boys, we never took seriously the complaining attitude of the too literal who wanted their dime back because they didn't see specific acts. But we, who had seen and tried things and knew what to expect, would stand before the posters and say among or to ourselves, \"They didn't have that,\" and \"They didn't have that,\" and \"They didn't have that!\" All of which had been promised.\n\nWe didn't mind that the hippopotamus had died two days previously on another pitch and all we were to see was its hide stuffed with straw.\nWe didn't mind that there was no lady performing a bareback somersault on the show when the heralds had proudly pointed to her and the posters had announced her especial appearance. We didn't care where she came from or if she had ever been there. We learned that it was never intended that she should be there, as she was only billed to offset the drawing power of a popular equestrienne on a rival show. I love the art of the circus but I'm not particularly intrigued by some of its methods. We never saw a somersault turned on a horse in the manner depicted on the posters.\nWe have seen \"layouts\" backflip and twisters thrown from the teeterboard and the ground as units in a series, and we have thrown them ourselves, so we know the \"feeling.\" But we never saw what the bills showed us: Charles Fish performing a somersault on a horse, either forward or backward, no one could say which, with his body bent backward so that the soles of his feet were in proximity to the top of his head. Another feat, involving wonderful feet, was presented alluringly by an unidentified artist: The catcher, swinging far out on the trapeze and hanging merely by his toes, is attempting to grasp the flyer who has just let go of a somersault from his bar. I hope they have a net under them.\nThe posters generally depict the catcher with his head down and the trapeze bar in the bend of his knee. One attempting a catch in this position would require the net beneath him. Until the \"Flying Codonas\" were depicted in this position on canvas in a picture exhibited in the American section of the Century of Progress Art Show at the Chicago Art Institute in the summer of 1934, no painter, high or low, and never a circus lithographer, had ever shown the catcher as he really hangs, with the bar in front and his legs engaging the trapeze ropes. However, in this picture, all resemblance to the Codonas or any other known aerialists fades away. The lithe and beautifully muscled bodies of the bird-men are cast in the mold of truck drivers.\ncolors in which they are depicted suggest trench diggers on a muddy lot; so little appreciation had the artist for harmonic relations between color and functional environment. Perhaps the real attitude of the catcher can never become popular in pictorial art, for it is too unimaginative. It seems not to coincide with the pictorial artist\u2019s ideas of the rhythmic proprieties \u2013 that is, with his ideas of the requirements of color contrast. Of flowing, living, bodily rhythm the painter standing at his easel and the illustrator bending over his board have no conception.\n\nAfter all, we must not take the joyous faker seriously. It is only the serious faker who is to be taken, and even he not too seriously; he isn\u2019t worth it. The serious faker must believe that he is fooling all the people all the time, else his sense of reality is impaired.\nOf humor would compel him, now and then, to change his mode of attack and lay aside his long black frock on occasion. But we forget! The serious faker has no sense of humor \u2013 that, as it affects fakers, is the possession of the joyous faker alone, and our own sense of humor will carry us a long way with him.\n\nOn the Hipodrome track, we witness a bewildering variety of turns. Around the track, the pageant moves, and the races are run; along it, Arabs gyrate, clowns cavort and gesture, and horses prance, rear, and kneel. Across the track, the leapers speed to the run for their springboard turns in the air over horses, banners, and elephants; and across the track, not so free in movement, the \u201ccats\u201d slink through the runways from their dens into the steel.\nARENA AND BACK TO THEIR DENS. The hippodrome track is alive with lovely form, fascinating movement, and scintillating color. As movement on the hippodrome track, XjL is not restricted by any racial preference but proceeds along and around in either direction, across and back, and even up and down in the third dimension as meets the performer's will. We shall view various demonstrations as individual reactions to the spirit of art, keeping in mind our own initial conception of a work of art as resulting primarily from activities undertaken for the love of the doing, but not ignoring the secondary consideration of the effect upon others. It is solely in the light of the first consideration that we have viewed the work of the aerialists, contortionists, equestrians, jugglers, and tumblers, here setting forth.\nThe idea of arranging them alphabetically rather than in order of precedence in the circus social and artistic register is disregarded for the clowns or \"Joeys\" on the track. In the work of the above-mentioned artists, the impact on others is minimized. However, for the clowns, the instantaneous effect on spectators is paramount. Every good clown is by nature and instinct a \"show-off\" as well as an artist, executing their work beautifully with a pursuit of perfection. An acrobat may be imagined enjoying their work alone or in the company of similar individuals. But not the clown; their life and enjoyment lie in the quick response and approval of the spectators. While there is virtue in a crowd, the real clown requires but the presence of one sympathetic soul, as you, dear male reader, well know if you are one.\nYou will recall your frantic actions on the curb and hitching post to gain the attention and approval of the one and only \"little morsel of u sugar and spice\" in the world. But the real clown on the hippodrome track sees in each individual of the throng the delectable image to which his heart goes out. He can well imagine the height of his elation if the response is cordial or the depth of his disappointment, amounting to despair, should approbation be withheld. In the latter case, only the clown who is an artist can rise out of the slough of despond, buoyed by the inner contemplation of, and satisfaction in, a job well done.\n\nThe acrobatic clown, as an individualized circus entity, has vanished from the purlieu of the top along with the bespangled bareback somersault.\nThe champion, holding in equal measure the love of performing and the effect on others; although the former likely prevailed in the nature of Harlequin and Pantaloon, whose grace in one case and buffoonery in the other we enjoyed so keenly as we watched them engaging in flipflops, somersaults, and twisters on the track. But times have changed, and our nerves no longer tingle delightfully with the swish and crack of slapstick skillfully and lightly handled; our ears throb painfully in the detonation of the bomb set off by the blow of a heavy mallet on the stooping tramp, or on the bloated turn-about of a windy trombone player. However, the spirit of art still hovers over clown alley and directs certain of the quieter and even more boisterous Big Top Rhythms.\nWatch Fred and Doodles meander along with gun and gamebag, scanning the landscape for game. Their little dog, Pal, follows behind, his head encased in a rabbit mask through the eyeholes of which he sees perfectly. Pal stops at some signal we do not catch. The hunters halt and seemingly listen. They turn and sight the rabbit, which, as the gun is raised, rises upon its haunches, lifting its forepaws in a pleading gesture. Isn't there a bit of a lump in your throat when, as the cap explodes, the little animal falls over with a fine imitation of a creature in its death throes and permits itself to be picked up limp and seemingly lifeless and deposited in the gamebag? Of course, you know he slips out of the bag all alive.\nAnd, after a due interval, the scene is re-enacted farther down the track.\n\nHave not your sensibilities and perhaps your responsibilities been touched at the sign of the steadfastness of inanimate things in the presence of human perverseness or reverseness of mind, as is exemplified in Bluch\u2019s contribution to the \u201cwalk around\u201d?\n\nA carpenter, with hammer in one hand and saw in the other, starts out carrying a long plank balanced on the top of his head. He has gone but a short distance when, realizing that he has come without a plane or chalk and line, perhaps, he about-faces and retraces his steps. The plank, however, remains constant to its original objective and keeps in its proper plane with its eye always upon that point ahead where final destiny will be met.\n\nHas not a rather sad smile permeated your being as you have watched?\nTwo chapss whose identities have eluded me for quite some time provided genuine enjoyment with their act, which was not only amusing but also truthfully pantomimed. The characters were Papa Clown, Mama Clown, and Baby Clown, who was represented by an effigy in a large perambulator. Baby required food \u2014 Mama took Baby from the perambulator and held it on her lap. Papa fetched a huge bottle containing a white liquid and, using a foot pump, emptied it into Baby's rubber stomach. Mama laid Baby across her knees and, upon a signal, Papa handed Mama a large, folded cloth from the perambulator. Carefully, Mama unfolded the white cloth to its full extent, deliberately folded it diagonally, and, with a clever flourish, presented it to the audience.\nA gesture, which holds in suspense those among the spectators who are conversant with the technique of the nursery, she swings the scarf across her shoulders and replaces the infant in the perambulator. The duo and their belongings move on to green fields and pastures new. The fact, which is not disguised nor sought to be disguised, that Mama Clown is a man masquerading contributes no little to the humor of the act.\n\nI cannot leave the clowns without expressing regret that conditions no longer warrant the explosions of one Chesty's infectious laughter or permit him to exhibit on one of the stages his remarkable handstands and one-hand dance. But the whole show cannot be given over to clowning, even to acrobatic clowning, however appealing the latter may be.\nSome who are not averse to seeing real poetry presented by Darby and Joan, Pierrot and Columbine, or by the Court Fool in motley. I confess that I watch the antics of the clowns with more than an impersonal interest. In the back of my mind still floats a filament of my early ambition to be an acrobatic clown \u2014 to be this moment on the speeding horse; then up among the lofty bars; then in the array of tumblers in the ring; then in the leaps. But it was not to be.\n\nAlmost from the beginnings of the circus in America, \u201cthe leaps\u201d was a most popular turn. For the present generation of circus goers, the act would be novel. Recently, there has been a demand for the reappearance of the leapers on the show. That it is a dangerous turn, at least to those who attempt it.\nThe act of attempting a triple was evident in the old days by the number of accidents, some fatal. Up to and including the double, the act is fairly safe and its beauty appeals to both performer and spectator. The latter feels himself floating in air as he regards the turn with sympathetic interest. However, appealing as the leap may be to the spectator, there is a drawback for the performer. The pounding the body and joints get from the force of the landing, even when successfully accomplished, stiffens them and to some extent incapacitates the artist for the lighter and more delicate forms of the art. The body, as it is propelled from the springboard or la batoute as it is technically called, may be directed into numerous and varied beautiful forms.\nI have suggested the feeling engendered in the performer by the single or double somersault from the springboard. The leap may take the form of the swan-dive concluding with a balled up or a layout somersault, a balled up twister, a layout twister, a somersault followed by a twister, and others. One of the most appealing turns is made by a leaper in \"Rube\" costume carrying a closed umbrella. It consists of a twisting layout somersault at the apex of which, high in the air, the performer opens up his umbrella and is parachuted gracefully to the ground. The mixture of grace, crudity, innocence and daring presented in this turn makes it always poignant in its appeal. As the leaper opens up his umbrella, he turns his head and winks at the spectators. For one who knows the art, this moment is particularly poignant.\nIn that seemingly slight gesture, the act becomes doubly entrancing. The leaper has not let that turn of the head interfere with the control of the body or the rhythm of the movement. And yet, it is through a slight motion or turn of the head that the accomplishment of the somersault, backward or forward, and of the twister is effected. A movement of the arms supplements the motion of the head. This factor adds another complication to the intricate rhythm of the leaper, for as he turns his head, he makes an extraneous movement with his arms and hands, opens the umbrella or places it in position to open of itself.\n\nThe involvement of this movement we may discern from a slight study of the technique of the somersault in its simple or primary form; that is, when the turn from feet to feet is effected normally and without the use of props or additional movements.\nThe performer stands in a \"sink,\" with head and body erect but knees slightly bent. In jumping, they lift shoulders to gain height in the air. The body becomes relaxed at the top of the rise, responding immediately to any impulse. Before the head reaches the highest point, feet are drawn up, bringing knees to the chest. Arms are bent with hands nearly at the shoulders, ready to grasp legs near the knees. The body is well up in the air, forming a loose ball; called \"balled up.\" From this position, either a somersault can be thrown, front or back. If a back somersault is intended, the head is thrown.\nThe combined movement turns the body around so feet are underneath, then stretches it out straight for an upright landing. Grasping the legs with hands is called the utuck, releasing and extending the body and legs is known as letting out. For a forward somersault, the process is reversed. With the body high in air, throw head forward and push knees downward, holding until let out. A forward revolution is thus effected, completing with stretched-out legs.\nWith the straightening of the body and an upright position, a somersault is performed in the air. The caterer at the right has just released the first flyer who will grasp the disengaged bar. The second elf, Veto, makes a forward turn.\n\nTo execute the twister, the head must be turned sharply to one side and backward. The arms and shoulders impel in the same direction.\n\nFrom this meager analysis of the movements and correlations involved in the simple somersault, we may gain some notion of what the extrinsic movement of the head in turning to wink at the spectators, together with that abnormal use of arms and hands in manipulating the umbrella, might have done to that turn in the air, to the bodily harm of the leaper, had not his body and brain been under perfect control.\nThe spirit is a trite, almost cant word, but in this connection, there is no substitute for it. In other words, there is no spiritual synonym. Let us go a little farther into the technique of the somersault as regards control, that is, the ability of the performer to alight upon a given spot or in a given position, especially in respect to the turn from the ground or upon horseback. If one relies too much upon the lift of the shoulders to gain height, strain may be put upon the body in such a manner as to impede the turn and lose perfect control. The \"belly\" should be lifted with the shoulders and not be dragged by them. The body must revolve around its center of gravity and not around the shoulders.\nThe seat of the will is in the brain in the cranium; the seat of the emotions is in the brain in the belly, where also is located the eye of the spirit. This is an Oriental, or at least a Japanese, conception. The early Greeks held theories as to the abdominal brain; at least, Hippocrates found the subject controversial. In ancient Hebrew lore, the seat of compassion, one of the richest of the emotions, is in the bowels. The Japanese archer shoots from the middle, sighting instinctively from that part of his anatomy. The American Indian raises his weapon and in sighting uses the brain back of the eye of flesh. That is the manner of the Occident except that the American gunman shoots from the hip, well knowing that in the extra moment necessary to raise the gun to the level of the eye, his opponent may.\nI will get the drop on him. This matter in general may be more properly dealt with in a consideration of the psychology of emotions than in an outline study of the technique of an art. I have spoken above of the danger involved in the triple turn to a landing on the ground. It is the intention of one leaping from the springboard to alight upon a mattress placed where it may break the force of the impact in landing. The mattress, unlike net or trampoline, is not resilient, sending the body upward on the rebound, but is intended to be just soft enough to break the force of the body coming at so great a speed from so great a height, and just firm enough to afford a good footing. To miss the mattress after a turn in the air would be to shatter bones in a crash.\n\nOn the Hippodrome Track\n\nThe mattress, unlike a net or trampoline, is not resilient, but is intended to be just soft enough to break the force of the impact of the body coming at such great speed from such great height, and just firm enough to afford a good footing. Missing the mattress after a turn in the air would result in bones being shattered in a crash.\nTo overturn and pitch forward upon striking the mattress would result in being thrown to the ground with such violence that the neck might be broken. This has occurred in some cases, except for a few favored mortals with supernormally fine organisms and clear heads, a good sense of direction and location, while functioning through two revolutions of the body in mid-air, this sense is lost at the conclusion of the third, and the power of control in alighting or catching has disappeared. The catcher is always there to assist when the aerialist has made his turn, but no catcher may intervene in the case of the leaper who must have his rhythm complete in his mind and know that his body is going to obey his commands implicitly before he can attempt his turn with assurance of a safe landing. The turn from the springboard is always taken in a forward direction: a front somersault.\nThe turn from the flying trapeze is normally the reverse. Regardless of how well-established the rhythm of the prospective turn is in the performer's brain, judgment of time and space is necessary. Sight is important for the delicate equation of judgment up to a certain point, but it fails to function in most cases after the second revolution. Ability to control then loses a powerful ally. Impaired judgment causes the performer to hold the tuck too long or let out too soon for an artistic or even safe conclusion to the turn. The trapeze flyer has an advantage over the springboard leaper, and especially over the performer throwing a forward on the wire, as the former has more time to prepare and adjust.\nThe back somersault is the objective for the aerialist, sighted almost from the beginning. In the front somersault, the body is in the line of vision, preventing the former from seeing what he is to catch or where he is to land until the revolution of the body is nearly completed. The brain must act quickly or the tuck will be held too long or the let out accomplished prematurely. It is here that innate sense of rhythm and accurate judgment born of experience come to the aid of the artist.\n\nI have said that the back somersault is the one normally thrown by the trapeze artist; this applies to the flyer swinging by the hands as he leaves the bar at the end of the arc. Known in its simple form from the trapeze or horizontal bar as the \"fly-away,\" the person accomplishing it may soar high.\nThe artist appropriately named a \"flyer\" can also be called a \"leaper.\" In this case, the flyer shoots out or vaults over the bar with his body facing downward for a straight dive or forward somersault. This movement is employed by the second flyer, who follows immediately after the first, who has back-somersaulted to a catch and is returned to the bar by the catcher as the second leaves it, himself to be caught as the catcher completes his up-swing. This cc pass in the air must include a somersault on the part of flyer number two for it to be entirely satisfying. A clever team known as the U Flying Thrillers habitually presented the pass with flyer number two throwing a normal back somersault.\nFrom the leaper's position on the bar, Alfredo Codona used regularly the single and, now and again, the double forward somersault to the catcher. This double forward is not attempted by the generality and, as the reader may conjecture, betokens the presence of a highly supersensitive organism. To aerialists themselves, as to the cognoscenti, this double forward is more difficult of accomplishment and, all things considered, more beautiful than the triple back and more rarely seen or attempted.\n\nBIG TOP RHYTHMS\n\nWith my love of rhythm and admiration of those who have absolute control of the body during a turn, I have no sympathy or liking for the clumsy act which recently has gained great applause from the groundlings; that is the triple from a teeter-board into a stuffed chair supported on the shoulders.\nThe heaped-up landing in the chair is ugly at best, and the only person deserving consideration is the one who holds it and relates its position to the movement of the turn. Its danger to limb is the only factor recommending that turn to the mob. The element of danger inherent in certain circus acts brings distress to many people who otherwise would enjoy the art. To a timid and supersensitive spectator, danger is present when none really exists; that is, none which we do not all encounter in the commonplace acts of our daily lives. People who ride on railway trains and in buses and automobiles, without head buffers and protective garments of some sort, display defective powers of logic in demanding safety nets underneath all acts in mid-air.\n\nIn the repertoire of the double trapeze, there is,\n\n(Note: The text appears to be in good shape and does not require extensive cleaning. The only minor correction needed is the missing period at the end of the first sentence.)\nTo the best of my knowledge, but one movement in which one partner is not grasping either the other partner or the bar firmly by hands or legs. There is a \"swing up\" of the female, hanging head downward, her legs intertwined in the arms of the male. On the Hippodrome track, in which her hands have to grasp his after his have disentangled themselves from her legs. I do not care to see that particular turn, but it is not so extremely dangerous. It does not compare in danger with the u-shaped turn at the ends of the wide arc made by the flying rings, yet I myself performed this feat for years in succession over a bare gymnasium floor with never a fall nor ever with even the slightest sense of danger. The act was learned on the mat from vertically hanging rings. The rings were made to swing slightly at first, then more and more.\nIn an arc of twenty feet, where confidence in the power of control had been established, the lovely Leitzel fell to her doom due to the breaking of an inconspicuous piece of her apparatus. Had the net been underneath, she might have been saved. Similarly, many a pedestrian who has slipped to death on a banana peel or slippery pavement could have been saved had they worn an inflated rubber suit against such contingency or had a lackey been following with a scoop net. The thing which her friends feared for Leitzel did not occur; that is, blood poisoning from her injured arm.\n\nAs the name of the fair artist has flowed from our pen, let us go back over a short period and, in memory, again behold her crossing the Hippodrome track from the stage entrance (the back door to her) in the glare of the spotlights, to wind up Big Top Rhythms.\nHer way upward along the loosely hanging rope in lovely and intricate convolutions to her work at the top of the tent. It can be said with slight fear of contradiction that the circus has furnished no finer combination of effective showmanship and perfectly adapted body than was exhibited by Lillian Leitzel. Few in circus history have come into the spotlight with more grace and charm, and few have emerged with greater acclaim than this artist of the tops through a course of many commanding years. Her performance was given in two distinctly different parts. The first was an exquisite gymnastic turn on the Roman rings high in the air. It was, as noted above, the breaking of one of these rings which caused her death. The second and concluding turn was a stunt which, though once her mother\u2019s specialty, Leitzel performed.\nFor many years, she made her own unique performance in the field, with no imitators. The turn, called the \"arm plunge,\" consisted of a full swing of the body around the shoulder as a pivot, with one hand free while the other gripped a loop that encircled the wrist. This revolution was repeated scores of times in succession without a break in the rhythm and finally became so monotonous that it dulled me, at least, whatever interest may have attached to it at the start. The interest soon resolved itself into \"how many times will she do it? 55 \u2014 \" how long can she keep it up? \" When that point was reached, art, of which otherwise Leitzel was the embodied spirit, had, to my notion, vanished.\n\nIn her performance on the Roman rings, Leitzel had no rival, no imitator. Nature and her own rare personality protected her in that. Dainty feet, delicate ankles, and slender calves were her distinctive features.\nThe tremulous and twinkling lower limbs and hips, seemingly in proportion but abnormally small for her wonderfully developed chest and shoulders, gave her a body over which she had absolute mastery. Standing on her hands in the rings with dainty feet in air above her, or pendant, or in shifting postures, she was always in command and, in whatever position, could rest or move with poise, with grace, with charm. The same peculiar physical structure which helped with the rings gave her an advantage over others when it came to ascending or descending the pendant rope by bodily twists and convolutions. In all this, she had no rival. But the announcement of the arm swing as a test of endurance carried a challenge, and competitors entered the field. Wiry young ones joined in.\naerialists, charged with a will to endure, kicked up their feet and let their bodies flop down. These girls would kick up, sometimes over, some ninety or a hundred times, the number to which Leitzel had confined her act during these last few years.\n\nBIG TOP RHYTHMS\n\nWhen the loop had eaten into the flesh of the wrist, making the turn for her one of excruciating pain, she, however, never let the spectators guess this. Leitzel's form in this particular turn was so distinctly her own, and her showmanship so brilliant, that many circus lovers found the imitations on other shows verging on the ludicrous, especially when Leitzel's mannerisms were copied. No art lover cares for a copy and no mere copy can permanently endure. I have sometimes wondered if even Leitzel's superb presentation of this particular turn would have much impressed the public had it not been hers.\nMabel Ward, an charming aerialist and member of a noted family, demonstrated her endurance on the show with which she was connected after Leitze's death. Received applause for her work on the rings without management stimulation. Shortly after, she married Tom Mix of circus, movie, and Wild West fame.\n\nBefore an outstanding body of \"Circus Fans\" gathered in the middle section of the grand-stand. The Circus Fans Association of America is a national body of altruistic non-professionals who love the circus as an institution and wish to see it perpetuated.\n\nOn the Hippodrome Track.\nThe young woman, nearly perfect in form, threw her suspended body around in circles in the Leitzel manner. It seemed she couldn't stop. A sensitive child in the first row clung to her mother appealingly and cried, \"Oh, Mother! Can't they take her down?\" But it wasn't necessary to take her down, for she descended gracefully of her own volition, with clear head and body well in hand, after completing, according to my count, 252 full turns. The press recorded only 251 turns, so we will let it stand at that. Leitzel herself told me she had done the turn 243 times. A well-posted circus fan informed me that Leitzel had given 249 turns as her record. My comment was that if she were counting or listening to the count, it was psychologically impossible, for there is magic in the even number and Leitzel, being an expert, likely knew this.\nThe following excerpts from the membership cards of The Circus Fan club, as presented by this writer at the San Antonio Convention in 1932, read:\n\n\"The Circus Fan will at all times do his utmost: First \u2014 to create a true understanding and appreciation of the educational and recreational value of the circus. Second \u2014 to help himself and others to an understanding and appreciation of the art of the big top. Third \u2014 to make himself, whenever and wherever desired by them, a point of contact between the people of the circus, artists or executives, and the outside world. Fourth \u2014 to exert himself to the end that the circus may exist and continue to exist among us as a social, educational, and recreative factor necessary to a fully rounded and joyous existence.\"\nFrom an illustration by Fernando Harvey Lungren, later known as a \"painter of desert scenes in the far-west,\" one of five to embellish an epic poem around the Student's Forepaugh incident which wove itself into legend and then became history - University Palladium, 1876, page 218, Hippodrome Track. I feel fortified in my position by the remark of one leading equestrian director that any of these girls could do the turn three hundred times, but it was not permitted on the show as it would draw the act out tediously. What performers are not permitted to do opens up a tender subject to the lover of the art of the circus. When an act has hit the popular fancy, a conservative management rarely consents to it.\nAny change in its routine, not even though the change would quite surely enhance the popularity of the turn. Early in the book, you were reminded of the thrill we got in the old one-ring circus when the inebriated man in the benches challenged the bareback rider in the ring. How, on being invited to make good his dare, he drunkenly bestrode the horse, fell off, was reinstated, pulled himself together, held his balance, began to disrobe himself, and finally, with all signs of inebriation vanished, stood resplendent in his spangled tights, the champion somersault rider of the show! That trick would not be so effective under the present huge top with its three rings in which three tramps are cutting up antics simultaneously, falling off and dodging horses, trying to keep breeches from coming down or shirts from pulling off.\nClarence Bruce, riding straight and clowning in a family equestrian turn of more than common merit, divests himself of his high hat and dress coat after disporting himself as an inebriated club fellow. He throws a series of somersaults on the back of his running horse, but he does not go far enough to suit me. The grace with which he accomplishes this feat makes one wonder with what acclaim the turn would be received were he to divest himself of all conventional raiment and appear in the spangled tights of the old-time circus rider. One of that sort has not been seen in the ring since Percy Clarke used to fill in for May Wirth when an accident, as.\nOne would occasionally keep that brilliant and charming equestrienne out of the ring. This \"little lady,\" as the old-time clown referred to the premiere equestrienne, had not only personal charm and a fine sense of showmanship but rode and somersaulted as no other woman ever did. One hears too frequently the pitiful wail that there are no riders nowadays comparable to the brilliant riders of the past, such as those cited in an earlier chapter. But not one of those men ever threw a full twister from one running horse to another, as is done today by Lucio in the stunning Cristiani act, or the back from horse to horse, as has been accomplished by at least four riders, one a woman, during the past two decades and is being done regularly in the ring today. No! The golden era of equestrianism is not over.\nThe days of circus equestrianism are not in the past but gleam brilliantly in the here and now. The nets have been spread for the final aerial act. Up there aloft, the performers, dressed in yellow tights, flutter over all three rings like canaries from perch to bar, to hand, to bar, to perch. The air is full of their dreamy movement, interrupted now and then by a quick spasmodic twister or pirouette to a catch, as if the bird had escaped to safety from the downward sweep of a not too friendly hawk. Individuality shows aloft. Over Ring Number Two, the flyer moves in rhythmic curves which flow gently, smoothly, and gracefully one into the other like the successive passages of the Spring Song. There, over the end ring, the \"Flying Thrillers\" phrase their living music with each separate movement of somersault merging into the next.\nIn the back yard, the sun is shining. We sit and gossip with \"Kinkers\" and clowns and witness history in the making and unmaking. Before the sun sinks into the west - to rise again as we know - we see the walls of the cookhouse drop and note movements which would seem to presage departure. We have seen the show or that part which particularly interests us in this present mood: certain manifestations of a wonderful art.\nTORChes glow we bid our friends, the artists au revoir. They pass on to other fields; the glory of their art remains with us. The sun does not always shine on the back yard, though the sunshine in the spirit glows perpetually. Hearts back there are always young. Now and then one hears a word which indicates that behind bright smiles and in spite of active bodies, there hovers a dread of advancing age. The artist in the man knows that age will bring a falling off in form, and that, in the circus, is fatal not only to perfect accomplishment, which is the ideal, but to the capacity for making a living in the practice of an art which necessarily imposes limitations \u2014 all of which is terribly real. A performer who has reached the pinnacle dreads this falling off in form and dreads, too, the struggle which he must make to maintain it.\nHe must maintain his exalted position, seeking new turns to perfect, as youth crowds closely and desires a place in the sun. The sun shines in the back yard today, and I sit and gossip and talk shop with my friends between turns. I understand their feelings towards the material and spiritual sides of their art. At times, I have touched the hem of their garments, and though little virtue seems to have gone out of them, much has entered into me, and I am happy in the knowledge of mutual understanding between us. I have this sense of understanding in my interactions with workers in other arts; but in none other, as with my friends in the back yard and under the dressing top, do I sense such a flow of rhythmic power passing through spirit to spirit.\nFrom body to body. I feel like singing here. Somehow here I have a feeling of being in contact with fantastic reality. These men and women are weaving living patterns with their bodies. They are not only grasping the idea of the rhythmic interrelation of time and space, they are spiritualizing it with their physical bodies. The pattern is living and vibrant.\n\nMy friend the decorative artist also fills space with pattern but the pattern does not live. For the motivating idea was not to produce a spiritual pattern but \u2014 gracefully in the old times and gratingly and harshly in the modern day \u2014 to fill a space. Yes, many men of many minds; but who would fill space with lines if he could do it more powerfully and vitally with his body! And architecture today is not living. It is copying itself.\nSpending itself in patterns which group together in three-dimensional numbness. The space it fills more generally were better unfilled. This is especially so of modernistic expressions, called international, and of architecture called functional, for these manifestations are the product of the worst kind of copying \u2014 the crossing of copied forms with other copied forms, none of which is national or racial in character or conception. Hence, the form or pattern which issues cannot be international in complexion; it is only unnatural. For this brainchild is the offspring of the willful mating of, let us say, an American half-sister with a French half-brother; a Russian son with an Italian stepmother; of anybody with anybody or anything which may be expected to reproduce a form or pattern which someone, somewhere, has seen and considered inept.\nWe do a disservice to \"functional artists\" by focusing only on their technical skills, which may be comparable to a circus act such as the arm cannon or muscle grind. While not everything in a circus is art, art exists in its individualistic, national, and racial aspects. One might not initially perceive art in the spectacle of a man being projected across the arena from a cannon. However, the precise timing displayed by the \"human projectile\" in taking the correct turn and landing safely in the net is a fine demonstration of body control, showcasing the artistry involved.\nThis flight through the trackless air possesses the concomitant beauty that distinguishes Alfredo Codona's swan-dive from the tent top into the net. Quickness of vision and control of direction are similarly exercised at the end of both flights. The man who performs this particular cannon flight is an artist to the core, and this fact influences the act. After World War I, when art and engineering in Europe seemed in the discard, two young men, Hugo and Bruno Zachini, saw a cannon act in a Danish music hall. Hugo's artistic sense told him the flight could be better done; Bruno's mechanical sense told him the cannon \"u gun\" could be improved upon. The two consulted with another brother, Edmund.\nA clever mechanical engineer sat in the back yard of \"The Big One,\" under the fly of the Zachini dressing van. A table was strewn with papers and magazines in a dozen languages. The wife of one of the Zachinis read aloud in Italian from a volume of poetry. Hugo's oil and water color sketches were stacked against a table leg. A figure was being released from a block of ebony. Form, sound, and color enveloped me. Despite the boom of the big gun I was soon to hear, I breathed the atmosphere of art as if I had been in Alma-Tadema's studio.\n\nA young woman's figure was just slipping into the yard through the back door. Sunshine sliding over the big top struck her shoulders, and mine.\nmind is drawn back to another sunny day in the back yard and something which had happened \u2013 no! something which had just missed happening. In the first of at least two magazine articles written by La Zorado, of Les Zorados, double trapeze artists, she tells of thrills and escapes on the part of the performer, for the benefit of the spectator who in many cases neither experiences the thrill nor senses the danger. I know one she did not tell. I was in the back yard of a circus on a sunny afternoon passing the time of day with friends among the \"kinkers,\" as performers in general are styled by those who would affect a circus parlance \u2013 the name probably suggested by the antics of the contortionist \u2013 when from the seeming gloom of the big top, La Zorado appeared with a smile upon her face, neither warm nor sunny, but determined.\nA tense atmosphere. A slight shiver ran through her lithe body, which relaxed as she stated the cause of her shaken nerves. The Zorados at one end of the tent and the Rooneys at the other were giving acts which were counterparts, synchronizing in each performance.\n\nA columnist quoted in the Ringling-Barnum Magazine, the program for the season of 1935, says: \"The Big Show personnel has long since abandoned old-time circus slang. Performers are no longer 'kinkers,' . . . elephants are not 'bulls,' clowns are not 'joey,' lions and tigers are not 'cats.' The side shows are not 'kid shows,'\" etc., etc. I hope this reform wave will break lightly on the rock of circus tradition. There is too great a tendency nowadays to make everything uniformly drab, to destroy individuality and eliminate the picturesque in favor of the formal \u2014 the conventional.\nThe circus today is a wholesome institution. Its art is high, and its slang, though limited in use, is picturesque. In the back yard, the turn of an act took place, although the intervening tent poles prevented either team from seeing or communicating with the other. At the conclusion of the act came the \"break away\" in which the female partner in each team was hanging by the legs - one hardly can say lower limbs, for they were upper in the act - on a bar with braided ropes in the hands of the male who was swinging by the legs on the upper and shorter of the double trapezes. The Rooneys' bar was slightly more elevated than that of the Zorados, but \"slightly\" in such a case might be a matter of life or death! The performers swing in a wide arc and under normal conditions when the braided ropes were not frayed or the trapezes not too far apart, they would meet in mid-air and exchange places.\nThe performers break away and the lady at the end shoots far out into space, her head at the center of the arc. The floor of the ring is cleared by an uncomfortably short space, as it seems to the spectators. The performers have the length of the rope gauged and shoot out without trepidation. The Rooneys were the first to reach for the \"break away\" line and discovered to their horror or at least to their consternation that they had the Zorados' line, which was the shorter. Intercommunication, as I have said, was impossible and the Rooneys could only hope that their neighbors would discover the exchange and cut out the turn. The exchange was discovered, but not until La Zorado had shot far out into the air \u2014 and then she had to act quickly.\nThe young girl bent double as she swooped down, climbing to the bar and barely missed the ring bank, grazing the floor. When she was released, a smile rested upon her drawn white lips. And on the face of little Jenny Rooney, who had swung far clear of the ring floor, was another, just such a smile. It was not a ring accident that changed La Zorado's chosen career at or on the bar.\n\nI had envisioned a short time since the figure of the young girl as she slipped out of the gloom of the big top into the sunshine of the back yard. I recalled the occasion upon which I had as my guest on one of the big shows, \"both before and behind,\" the president of a large and important state normal college. I had visited the school to enjoy its art gallery and was struck by its beauty.\nWith the multitude of bright young women who were aspiring to become teachers of the sciences, literature, and languages. Obviously, these vivid creatures were in the president's mind as he watched the circus girls on the ladders, on their mounts on the hippodrome track, and riding bareback in the rings.\n\n\"What is their IQ?\" he asked quite professionally.\n\nI know the jargon of callings other than my own, and I answered, \"About that of your senior girls, I imagine. We'll go back and meet some of them and some of the stars. You may judge for yourself. They won't be embarrassed, for they have met college presidents before.\"\n\nThen I warned him not to expect more from these people than he would from a group of painters or sculptors or architects when encountering them.\nThe first time. There are ideas and ideals in the members of all these groups, but one should know their language. One might find a room full of deaf-mutes uninspiring if he did not know sign language or some other means of their communication. Indeed, under such conditions, the deaf-mutes might find the visitor uninspiring, even if he was a college president. I did not make much headway in the highest social surroundings in Athens, let me say, for I knew nothing of Greek, yet I know their art, ancient and modern, and something of the social and economic problems with which Greece today is beset.\n\n\"Speak the language of these people,\" said I to the college president, \"and you will find them highly intelligent and interested in many phases of life. Among the clowns, you will find a number who are conversant with Shakespeare and among others, \"\nperformers and clowns, many who can converse \u2013 and have something to converse about \u2013 in several BIG TOP RHYTHMS and tongues. But if you know nothing of what deeply interests them, you may have difficulty drawing them out. You will feel as much an alien in their presence as I would in a gathering of physicists solving the equations of Einstein\u2019s bent rays, or as many a person you know, at a studio tea. Circus people have just as much to interest the student of mental make-up, you call it psychology in your courses, as any group of artists as a class. Individuals in each and all the classes rise to about the same height and on occasion the pinnacle reached is lofty.\n\nWhile still in reminiscent and slightly philosophic mood and speaking not so much of an art as of conditions affecting its practice, it may not be entirely inappropriate to note that:\n\n1. performers and clowns have the ability to converse and have interesting topics to discuss in various circus settings (BIG TOP RHYTHMS and tongues),\n2. understanding their deep interests is necessary to engage with them effectively,\n3. the presence of circus people can feel alienating to those unfamiliar with their interests,\n4. circus people are as worthy of study as any other artistic group, and\n5. individuals in all artistic classes reach similar heights and occasionally achieve great success.\nI. Extraneous experiences I'd like to share another anecdote from my backyard, as it sheds light on an episode in circus history. There are two sides to every story, a fact that makes historical writing perilous for the historian with limited access to one side. Having been in college and involved in the event to some extent, I have the college perspective. Through friends in the circus, I've learned their side as well.\n\nDuring a visit to Ann Arbor, Michigan, to inspect one of my buildings \u2013 at that time under construction to house student publications \u2013 I encountered an intriguing tale.\n\nAuthor: Architect-AIA(hon)Arch. D(hon)AA(amateur acrobat)\nAt seventy-six, throwing a forward somersault onto the mat\nNet Weight: 197 lbs. Height: 6 ft. 3 in.\nBIG TOP RHYTHMS\nI. In the morning, I was in the back yard of the lot where the circus was pitching its tents, chatting with Kinko, the albino clown, awaiting the arrival of the Clarkes and Hannefords, along with their families, who were also part of the show, as were several other circus friends. Kinko, apropos of something or other, asked, \"This is the university town, isn't it?\" \"Yes,\" I answered. \"This is where a number of students were killed and crippled when the seats were pulled out from under them. Must have been years ago. Have you heard of it?\" \"Yes, it's a tradition,\" I replied. \"I don't like it,\" said Kinko. \"It wasn't right. There should have been some other way of handling the boys. They were just out for fun.\"\nI had the law on my side, but I never thought it was right.\n\n\"Is it a tradition or a legend in the circus?\"\n\n\"Yes, it is referred to now and then when we are in a college town. You said you had heard I had been studying his face, which had shown real concern for the fate of the boys. 'Sure thing,' I said. 'I was there! I was in it!' He wanted to know the story, which I told him as I am writing it down.\n\n\"Well,\" I went on, \"I know the story is still alive, still extant, as Shakespeare would put it, for I read it again, I think in White Tops, in some circus article anyway, just a few weeks ago! It spoke of deaths and broken legs and arms; and that since that day no circus had played in Ann Arbor during term time. For a fact, it was more than forty years before\"\nAnn Arbor was favored with a first-class circus in term time, although fourteen years later a small outfit with a red tent pitched on the outskirts of the town. I'll tell you about that later.\n\n\"What was the first show?\" asked Kinko.\n\nIt was Forepaugh's Circus and Menagerie with Adam at the front door in person. It was on a fine spring day in 1876 \u2014 I was about finishing my freshman year. As you know, I am a Circus Fan from way back, and was something of an acrobat then as I am now, but that night my allegiance was divided. I had to see the show. I had to go with the boys. I could have gone in with the townies on my father's passes \u2014 he was editor and publisher of a paper \u2014 but I went in on cut rates with the bunch. The freshmen were to sit in the top rows of the sections.\nThe boys were allotted the place. Nice, if the seats had dropped \u2013 but they didn't.\n\nBIG TOP RHYTHMS\n\nAn expression of surprise and relief passed over Kinko's face.\n\n\"No,\" I continued, \"they didn't drop! It was like this. When the boys had filed into the menagerie top, each with a tin horn concealed under his coat, they stood in a bunch \u2013 oh! three, four, several hundred of them \u2013 awaiting some signal. As they milled around and into the big top, Adam Forepaugh and the chief of police, old Johnson, called two or three of the well-known students aside. Among them was Ben T. Cable of Rock Island, Illinois, president of the senior class, a fine boy, and one of the best boxers and sprinters in college.\n\n\"Ben,\" said the chief, \"I hope there'll be no disturbance tonight.\"\nThey say the boys are going to bust up the show, drown it out, put it out of business. I hope you don't try! You boys are all in one block of seats detached from the others. The house is full and we don't want trouble. But Forepaugh is prepared. He has sworn in his men as deputies and he has the law on his side. Here's what Forepaugh may have said last, but the chief did most of the talking as he knew the boys, many by name. However, I know that Adam gave the demonstration. He took the 'committee' out and under the wall of the big top and showed the ropes tied to the jacks under the stringers. The ropes were manned by razor-backs, canvas men, and roughnecks by the score, each armed with a tent stake or a club of some sort in the back yard.\nBen saw the razor-backs handling the vans and trucks at the runs, ready for a special job. They were no Sunday school children; they were seasoned men.\n\nBen was no coward, but he felt it was up to him to save the situation. He went into the big top and stood before the noisy crowd in the student sections. He raised his hand. Ben, a short and thickset chap, was impressive, and there was comparative silence.\n\n\"Boys,\" he said, \"this show is playing fair with us. The management is a good lot and will give us a good show. Let's give them a break.\" Ben continued.\n\"So you see, said I to Kinko, how legends grow. The intention was, in the telling, transformed into the deed. It had been the intention, had occasion offered, to pull the jacks from under, letting the benches down and every student who showed fight would have been knocked on the head with a tent stake! That was the foundation of the tradition handed down in the circus. But there is more to the episode in the legend which has grown up in college circles. I would not say that there was not a bit of friction after the show between groups of students and members of the circus crew; there was, but not enough to satisfy the...\"\nexuberant freshmen gave vent to suppressed emotions by engaging in a vicious intraclass rush. Protestors or obnoxious classmates were \"put over the fence.\" Few of the class went home that night with a whole shirt or any. Student tradition holds that during this rush, bands of students, thwarted in their original purpose, gathered in the dark and spirited away wagon tongues and wheels to make movement to the next pitch difficult or impossible. Some boys shoved vans into the Cat Hole, a filthy, deep puddle near the lot and the campus. Five others ran ahead and cut the supports of the bridge over a creek down Ypsilanti way. The elephants were hampered in their progress, as they had to be rescued and the bridge repaired.\n\nIn the back yard, for the elephants had to be rescued and the bridge repaired.\nBut the worst problem for the circus, as the legend goes, when it reached the new lot late in the morning, the canvas was found to be unusable. Pharmacy students had broken into the chemical laboratory and swiped all they could find of what they called H2SO4, but known to anyone but a pharmacist as sulphuric acid, and poured it on the bundled canvas, letting the percolating fluid do its dirty work. Had you heard that part of it? I asked Kinko; and it was news to him, as I imagine it would be even to the circus people who were on the show that night!\n\nI told Kinko not to waste his sympathy on the boys, as I wasn't wasting any on the show. In reality, no boys were hurt except in their feelings and no vans were overturned, no elephants stalled, nor was canvas eaten by acid. The stories arose as\nThe very natural psychological reaction led the circus men to want to join in with the boys. In their imagination, they did, while the boys desired compensation for thwarted intentions and took it out in their imaginations. Most of the college yarn came from the most atrocious prevaricator in school at the time, a freshman who was too timid to participate in the rush. When pressed for a reason for his absence, he asserted his leadership in all the fell deeds of that night, which later wove themselves into a student legend.\n\nI asked Kinko, \"How comes the circus here in Ann Arbor even during summer school term, for there are four times as many students in town today as there were then?\" I later verified my statement and found that there were four thousand, three hundred students.\nAnd twenty-six students were in town that summer for the session, and there were one thousand and sixty-nine in the university in total on that memorable spring night in 1876 when all these dire things \u2013 did not happen. But later, when we saw hundreds of mild-mannered schoolteachers of both sexes and hundreds of beautiful, happy children at the matinee performance, we knew the answer. I wondered if times had deteriorated, as they had certainly changed, since my freshman year when a bunch of restless and uneasy students were listening for the dread call, \u201cHey! Rube!\u201d which luckily did not sound. In the foregoing, one can see history in the making. But writers of the circus are bound to have the episode occur somewhere, and recently in a circus book I found the scene laid at the University.\nThe University of Missouri and the University of Illinois both claim that their Alma Mater was involved in a \"Hey, Rube!\" affair. This suggests that a big fight or disturbance, referred to as a \"rumpus,\" \"fracas,\" or \"clem\" in the circus, occurred with students being killed or hurt. However, there is no evidence to support this, as it seems to have only existed in the imaginations of circus people or students who saw things at night.\n\nAn incident fourteen years after the initial episode, which spawned this tradition, is not worth mentioning as it would have remained unknown beyond the campus had it not been for the yellow journals of Ann Arbor, which were then, as now, antagonistic towards the university and known for unscrupulous exaggerations in reporting student activities.\nA small circus, manned by toughs, showed the town on May 28, 1890. The outfit seemed bent on trouble, although students were not present in large numbers or by concerted action. The roughnecks on the show attacked the crowd with clubs as it was dispersing after the night performance. The circus men didn't know the difference between a \"stude\" and a farmer's wife and struck out indiscriminately, injuring several citizens who did not fight back. If this particular circus had it in mind to avenge the \"atrocity\" of fourteen years previous, it failed and simply scored another sordid entry on the unsavory list of circus clashes.\n\nIn the sunshine in the backyard, I talked of the olden days with my friend, the albino clown. But while the sun is shining now, it has been known to hide, and the past can cast long shadows.\nIn the back yard and over the lot, as well as the surrounding countryside, it rained heavily. I walked to the cookhouse at the lunch hour, along the banks of the Kaw, lengthwise of the big top, avoiding becoming inextricably mired by stepping into holes where elephants had crushed tons of straw with their feet as they tried to place the vans loaded with stringers, jacks, and planks. In a few of the holes, only the water had risen, allowing me to make my journey to the dressing top dry-shod. Later, while I was chatting in the dressing top, the lot boss entered and called out, \"Pack up. No show today.\" After thirty-six hours of intense struggle in Missouri mud, the show yielded to the inevitable and lost four consecutive performances. In such conditions, the spiritual sometimes fails.\nIn the back yard, his majesty of the heavens sinks to rest in his western bed canopied in crimson, green and gold. Torches begin to glow here and there, a wagon starts off in the direction of the runs and we know that another delectable day is drawing to a close. The stars in the firmament twinkle their brightest, though they are not aware of it or of the effect they are producing on us here below. The stars under the big top throw their souls into their work.\nThe performers are quite conscious of the applause greeting their efforts and equally conscious that the real idealism and spirit of beauty animating them have not entered the consciousness of the vast crowd. Only you, my dear reader, and I can look behind that wonderful technique and lovely manifestation of art and see the spirit of beauty animating the form. The glorious pageant has faded, and our actors were not entirely spirit or matter. The material responded eagerly and lovingly to spiritual impulses, and before our eyes, the material became deeply spiritual. Each particular evanescent and beautiful expression of their art may itself vanish into air.\n\"But these our actors, as I amidst stand musing,\nShall play their part. And in their reverie\nInspire us with their passions; joy and sorrow,\nAs dreams are made on, and we unawares\nLook at ourselves and do the very things\nWhich we, in dreams, have thought. And through our eyes,\nTheir visages, and in their living persons,\nWe see the very likeness of our dreams.\nMay we, like them, live our dream life joyously,\nAnd end our transient day with a dreamless sleep.\"", "source_dataset": "Internet_Archive", "source_dataset_detailed": "Internet_Archive_LibOfCong"}
]