CHAPTER VI

MARTIAN POLAR EXPEDITIONS

Polar expeditions exert an extreme attraction on certain minds, perhaps

because they combine the maximum of hardship with the minimum of

headway. Inconclusiveness certainly enables them to be constantly

renewed, without loss either of purpose or prestige. The fact that the

pole has never been trod by man constitutes the lodestone to such

undertakings; and that it continues to defy him only whets his endeavor

the more. Except for the demonstration of the polar drift-current

conceived of and then verified by Nansen, very little has been added by

them to our knowledge of the globe. Nor is there specific reason to

suppose that what they might add would be particularly vital. Nothing

out of the way is suspected of the pole beyond the simple fact of being

so positioned. Yet for their patent inconclusion they continue to be

sent in sublime superiority to failure.

Martian polar expeditions, as undertaken by the astronomer, are the

antipodes of these pleasingly perilous excursions in three important

regards, which if less appealing to the gallery commend themselves to

the philosopher. They involve comparatively little hardship; they have

accomplished what they set out to do; and the knowledge they have

gleaned has proved fundamental to an understanding of the present

physical condition of the planet.

The antithesis in pole-pursuing between the two planets manifests

itself at the threshold of the inquiry, in the relative feasibility

with which the phenomena on Mars may be scanned. For, curiously enough,

instead of being the pole and its surrounding paleocrystic ice which

remains hidden on Mars, it is rather the extreme extent of its

extension and the lowest latitudinal deposit of frost which lies

shrouded in mystery. The difficulty there is not to see the pole but to

see in winter the regions from which our own expeditions set out. And

this because the poles are well displayed to us at times which are

neither few nor very far between; while favorable occasions for marking

the edge of the caps when at their greatest have neither proved so

numerous nor so favorable. The tilt of the planet’s axis when

conveniently placed for human observation has been the cause of the one

drawback; the planet’s meteorological condition in those latitudes at

that season the reason for the other.

What knowledge we have of the size of the caps in degrees upon the

surface of the planet at this their extreme equatorward extension has

been given in the last chapter. Their aspect at the time together with

what that aspect betokens was not there touched upon. With it,

therefore, and the peculiarities it presents to view we shall begin our

account of the caps’ annual history.

[Illustration: South Polar Cap in winter.]

When first the hemisphere, the pole of which has for half a Martian

year been turned away from the sun, begins to emerge from its long

hibernation, the snow-cap which covers it down even to temperate

regions presents an undelimited expanse of white, the edges of which

merge indistinguishably into the groundwork color of the regions round

about. Of a dull opaque hue along its border, its contour is not sharp

but fades off in a fleecy fringe without hard and fast line of

demarcation. Such notably was the aspect of the north temperate zone in

1896 when, tilted as it then was away from us into a mere northern

horizon of the planet’s limb, it showed prior to the definite

recognition of the north polar cap in August of that year, and such too

was the look of the disk’s southern edge both before and after the

first certain detection of the southern cap in 1903 and 1905. Each was

then in the depth of winter. For in Martian chronology the season

corresponded in each at the time to what we know in our northern

hemisphere as the latter part of February and the early part of March

and the appearance of the planet’s surface in both was not unlike what

we know at the same season in latitude 45°. Indeed, there is reason to

suppose bad weather there then and the extreme fringe, from the pale

tint it exhibited, to have been cloud rather than snow.

It is quite in keeping with what we know on earth or can conceive of

elsewhere that such aspect should characterize the cap at or near the

attainment of its greatest development. Whether it were not yet quite

arrived at this turning-point of its career or had but slightly passed

it a vagueness of outline would in either event proclaim the fact. For

were the frost still depositing, the cap’s edge would show indefinite;

and on the other hand had it just begun to melt, evaporation would give

it an undefined edge before the melting water had gathered in

sufficient quantities to be itself noticeable.

Its behavior subsequent to recognition bore out the inference from its

aspect when it first appeared. While for many days prior to its coming

unmistakably into view it was impossible to say whether what was seen

of the southern cap in 1903 and 1905 was cloud or snow; so even after

it had definitely disclosed itself it continued to play at odds with

the observer. Showing sharp at the edges one day it would appear but

hazily defined the next, thus clearly demonstrating itself to be at the

then unstable acme of its spread. Such a state of things we are only

too familiar with in our own March weather when after days of sunshine

that have melted off the winter’s white and fringed it with rivulets

and awakening grass, a snow-storm falling upon it powders the ground

again that was beginning to be bare and at one stroke extends the

domain of the snow while mystifying the actual limits it may be said to

occupy. The same condition of things, then, is not unknown on Mars, and

to fix the precise date of so wavering a phenomenon is not so much

matter of difficult observation as of physical impossibility.

[Illustration: Hellas in winter.]

Nor is the southern cap, at this the height of its winter expansion,

confined strictly to its own proper limits. Faint extensions, now so

connected with its main body as to form part and parcel of it, now so

detached and dull of tint as to make the observer doubtful of the exact

relationship, are generally to be seen attendant on it. Hellas in

winter is much given to such questionable garb, and has in consequence

been mistaken by more than one observer for the cap itself, appearing

as it does well upon the southern limb and being often the only region

to show white. Indeed, frost-bound as it then is, to consider it the

polar cap, though possibly geographically incorrect, may

climatologically be sustainable. Its northern extremity extends down to

latitude 30°, a pretty low latitude for frost. Still such equatorward

extension is not without corroborating parallel. In 1903, at what was

in Martian dates April 26, the whole of the region south of the Solis

Lacus and the Nectar showed white, with a whiteness which may as well

have been hoarfrost as cloud. Now, the Nectar runs east and west in

latitude 28°. So that in this instance, too, it is possible that arctic

conditions knocked at the very doors of the tropics. Encroachment of

the sort is equivalent to snow in Cairo and permanent snow at that; not

an occasional snow flurry, but something to linger on the ground and

stay visible sixty millions of miles away.

[Illustration: White south of Nectar and Solis Lacus.]

Knowledge of either cap in this the midwinter of its year has been a

matter of the most recent oppositions of the planet. Up to within the

last few years our acquaintance with either cap was chiefly confined to

the months,—one might almost say the weeks,—immediately surrounding

the summer solstice of its respective hemisphere. The behavior of the

caps during the rest of their career was largely unknown to us, from

the very disadvantageous positions they occupied at the times the

planet was nearest to the earth. Beginning with 1894, however, our

knowledge of both has been much extended, by a proportionate extension

of the period covered by the observations. It used to be thought

impracticable to observe the planet far on either side of opposition;

now it is observed from as much as four months before that event to the

same period after it. The result is a systematic series of observations

which in many ways has given unexpected insight into Martian

conditions. One of the benefits secured has been the lengthening of the

period of study of the cap’s career, a pushing of inquiry farther back

into its spring history and a longer lingering with it in its autumnal

rebuilding. Yet up to the very last opposition a gap in its chronology

still remained between February 25 and April 1. The opposition of 1905

has bridged this hiatus and brought us down to the latter date, at

which the melting of the cap begins in earnest.

From this point, April 1 on, we have abundant evidence of the cap’s

behavior. Its career now for some time is one long chronicle of

contraction. Like Balzac’s _Peau de Chagrin_ it simply shrinks, giving

out of its virtue in the process. The cap proceeds to dwindle almost

under the observer’s eye till, from an enormous white counterpane

spread over all the polar and a large part of the temperate zone, its

area contracts to but the veriest nightcap of what it was before. From

seventy degrees across it becomes sixty, then fifty, then forty, till

by the middle of the Martian May it has become not more than thirty

degrees in diameter. During this time, from the moment the melting

began in good earnest, the retreating white is girdled by a dark band,

of a blue tint, which keeps pace with the edge of the cap, shrinking as

it shrinks, and diminishing in width as the volume of the melting

decreases.

After the melting has been for some time under way and the cap has

become permanently bordered by its dark blue band a peculiar phenomenon

makes its appearance in the cap itself. This is its fission into one or

more parts. The process begins by the appearance of dark rifts which,

starting in from the cap’s exterior, penetrate into its heart until at

last they cleave it in two. Rifts have been seen by several observers

and in both caps; and what is most suggestive they always appear in the

same places, year after year. Sometimes oppositions elapse between

their several detections for they are not the least difficult of

detail; but when they are caught, they prove to lie just where they did

before.

The permanency in place of the rifts, a characteristic true of them

all, shows them to be of local habit. Thus the rift of 1884 and 1897

reappeared again to another observer in the same position in 1901. They

are, therefore, features of, or directly dependent on, the surface of

the planet. But it will not do from this fact to infer that they are

expressive of depressions there. The evidence is conclusive that great

irregularities of surface do not exist on Mars. As we shall see when we

come to consider the orology of the planet it is certain that

elevations there of over two or three thousand feet in altitude are

absent. Differences of temperature, able to explain a melting of the

ice in one locality coincidentally with its retention in an adjacent

one, must in consequence be unknown. And this much more conclusively

than at first appears, for the reason that the smaller the planet’s

mass the less rapidly does its blanket of air thin out in ascent above

the surface. This is in consequence of the greater pull the larger body

exerts and the greater density it imparts to a compressible gas like

our atmosphere. Gravity acts like any force producing pressure and by

it the envelope of air is squeezed into a smaller compass. But as this

is done throughout the atmospheric layer it means a more rapid

rarefaction as one leaves the body. The action is such that the height

necessary to reach an analogic density varies inversely as the gravity

of the mass. In consequence of this, to compass a relative thermometric

fall for which a moderate difference of elevation would suffice on

Earth, an immoderate one must be made on Mars. For gravity there being

but three eighths what it is here, eight thirds the rise must be made

to attain a proportionate lowering of temperature. This fact renders

the above argument against elevation and depression being the cause of

the phenomenon three times as cogent as it otherwise would be.

With so gradual a gradient in barometric pressure there and so low a

set of contour lines, altitude must be a negligible factor in Martian

surface meteorologic phenomena. Both density and temperature can be but

little affected by such cause, and we must search elsewhere for

explanation of what surface peculiarities we detect.

Meanwhile the rifts themselves, from being lines which penetrate the

cap from its periphery in toward its centre, end by traversing it in

its entirety and separating portions which, becoming outlying

subsidiary patches, themselves proceed to dwindle and eventually

disappear. The rifts usually take their rise from such broader parts of

the cap-encircling blue belt as make beads upon that cordon and are

clearly spots where the product of the melting of the cap is either

specially collected, or produces its most visible effect.

So far the description might apply with substantial accuracy to either

cap. Yet the conduct of the two is in some ways diverse and begins to

accentuate itself from this point on.

[Illustration: Northern Cap hooded with vapor.]

From the time that the north polar cap reaches a diameter of about

twenty-five degrees, a singular change steals over it. From having been

up to then of a well-defined outline it now proceeds to grow hazy and

indistinct all along its edge. This change in its character at the same

period of its career has been quite noticeable at each of the three

last oppositions, so that small doubt remains that the metamorphosis is

a regularly recurrent one in the history of the cap. Coincident with

the obliteration of its contour, its dimensions seemingly enlarge. It

is as if a hood had been drawn over the cap of a dull white different

from the dazzling brilliance of the cap itself and covering more

ground. Such is probably what occurs; with vapor for veil. The

excessive melting of the cap produces an extensive evaporation which

then in part condenses to be deposited afresh, in part remains as a

covering, shutting off from our view the outlines of the cap itself. It

would seem that at this time the cap melts faster than the air can

carry it off. A sort of steaming appears to be going on, taking place

_in situ_. For it clearly is not wafted away. The time of its coming

too is significant. For the season is May 15, the height of time for a

spring haze to set in. Then later it dissipates with the same quiet

indefiniteness with which it gathered.

[Illustration: Northern Cap unmasked.]

It is some time in Martian June before the spring haze clears away, and

when it does go, only a tiny polar cap stands revealed beneath it, from

six to eight degrees across, or from a tenth to a fifteenth of what it

was when it passed into its curious spring chrysalis. The date of

emergence varies. In 1903 it occurred early, the haze not being marked

after June 3, though recurring again at intervals for a day or so. In

1905 it was later; perceptibly thin after June 21 it did not certainly

clear away till June 9 and came back again on July 16 and possibly on

the 25th.

These vicissitudes of aspect give us glimpses into a sweet

unreasonableness in Martian weather which makes it seem more akin to

our own. And this on two counts, diurnal and annual. From day to day

atmospheric conditions shift for purely local cause; while,

furthermore, successive Martian years are not alike. In some the season

is early; in others late. So that Mars is no more exempt than are we

from the wantonness of weather.

Clearly disclosed thus reduced to its smallest possible terms it

remains for some months of our days, for six weeks of its own. During

that period it continues practically unchanged, neither increasing nor

decreasing significantly in size, nor altering notably in aspect.

Measures of the drawings of it then make it from five to eight degrees

across and it is possible that it really fluctuates between narrow

limits, though its clear-cut outline at all times renders the variation

difficult to explain. We are not so near it as we could wish; for on

these occasions even at their best it is over two hundred times as

distant as the moon and the greatest magnification possible still

leaves it a hundred thousand miles away.

To the south polar cap a somewhat similar history attaches, but with a

difference. In its case no such regularly recurrent spring haze has yet

been noted. The melting of this cap would seem to be of a more orderly

nature than its fellow and not to outdo what can conveniently be

carried off.

That an excess of evaporation should not take place is the more

peculiar from the fact that at its maximum it is the larger of the two

and therefore has the greater quantity of matter to get rid of. Its

summer, also, is shorter than the arctic one, so that it has the less

time to dispose of its accumulations. The only other respect in which

it seems to be differently circumstanced from its antipodes is in the

character of its surroundings. About it are large blue-green areas

which with intermissions stretch down in places to within less than ten

degrees of the equator; whereas the other pole is continuously

encircled for long distances by practically uninterrupted ochre. The

character of the environment seems thus the only thing that can account

for the difference in behavior and this proves the more plausible when

we come to consider what those two classes of regions respectively

represent.

In other ways as well the southern cap is the more self-contained. The

rifts, indeed, break it up into separate portions and these in part

remain as outlying detachments of the main body, as was notably the

case in 1877 and in 1894, but they hardly have the permanency and

importance of those similarly formed about the arctic pole. Nothing

antarctic for instance compares with the subsidiary patch of the north

polar regions lying in longitude 206°, which both in Schiaparelli’s

time, and during the late oppositions as well was almost as fixed a

feature of the arctic zone as the cap proper. Not quite so constant,

however, and not so solid-looking a landmark is this patch for all its

extent, which nearly equals the area of the more legitimate portion. It

bears on its face a more pallid complexion as if it were thinner, and

this is borne out by the fact that it occasionally disappears, an event

which so far at least has never befallen the northern cap itself.

Less constant the southern one is to its own minimum than the northern.

In some seasons, in most in fact, it reaches like the other a more or

less definite limit of diminution which it does not pass. But this is

not always the case. In 1894 it disappeared entirely at the height of

its midsummer. The season was probably unusually hot then in the

southern hemisphere of Mars.

In position the caps have something to say about physiographic

conditions. Both caps at their minima are then irregular and the centre

of the south one is markedly eccentric to the areographic pole. It lies

some six degrees north along the thirtieth meridian. The northern one

is also probably eccentric, but much less so, with a divergence not

much exceeding a degree and of doubtful orientation. Not only are both

caps not upon their respective poles but they are not opposite each

other, the one lying in longitude 30°, the other in 290°. This speaks,

of course, for local action. In some wise this must depend on the

configuration of the surface, yet so far as markings go there is

nothing to show what the dependence is.

The eccentring of the caps is paralleled by the like state of things on

earth. The pole of cold does not coincide in either hemisphere with the

geographic pole. On the earth its position is largely determined by the

distribution of the land-masses. Continents are not such equalizers of

heat as oceans because of their conductivity on the one hand and their

immobility on the other. In winter they part with their heat more

quickly and convection currents cannot supply the loss. This accounting

for thermal pole eccentricity is inapplicable to Mars because of the

absence there of bodies of water. And it is significant that the degree

the earthly poles of cold are out much exceeds what is the case on

Mars. Possibly areas of vegetation there replace to some effect areas

of water. It is certainly in favor of this view that the arctic regions

there are more desert than the antarctic and that the north pole of

cold occupies more squarely the geographic pole.

Not till 1903 did the actual starting again of either cap chance to be

seen. Nor was this, indeed, a matter of hazard but of persistent

inquiry by observation prolonged after the planet had got so far away

that its scanning had hitherto been discontinued. Such search beyond

the customary limits of observation was essential to success, because

of the relation of the axial tilt to the position of the planet in its

orbit. At an opposition well placed for nearness, the tilt is such as

largely to hide the pole and to present the polar regions too obliquely

to view for effective scanning. This is true both of the arctic and the

antarctic regions in turn. For the Martian axis being inclined somewhat

as our own is to the plane of the planet’s orbit, we at times see well

and at times but poorly the arctic or antarctic zones.

The cap, the starting to form of which was thus caught, was the arctic

one; the date 128 days after the northern summer solstice, or

thereabouts, for as is perhaps natural the advent of the phenomenon

partook of the wavelike advance of such things familiar on earth, an

advance succeeded by a recession and then followed by another advance.

So much is proof of local weather there as here. Hoar-frost was

successively deposited and then melted off.

[Illustration: Deposition of frost.]

What is significant, the deposition of the frost took place

simultaneously over large areas. The very first patch of it, in about

longitude 320°, extended at one stroke down to latitude 55°. For it

actually crossed the Pierius somewhat to the south. A second patch

stretched to the east of the cap. Two wings these made to the kernel of

cap itself. Through the wings could be marked the line of the canal:

the Pierius upon the one side, the Enipeus upon the other. Such

visibility of the canals through the white stretches proved the white

not to be due to cloud suspended between us and them, but a surface

deposit which found no lodgment upon the canals themselves. The same

avoidance of dark markings was evidenced by the showing of the dark rim

round the cap’s kernel. Now, if the deposit were indeed hoarfrost, this

failure to find permanent foothold on the dark markings is what we

should expect to witness. For whether they were vegetation or water,

equally in either case the frost would melt from them first. Probably

they were both vegetal, though some doubt might exist about the latter,

the band around the kernel. It was then August 20 in that hemisphere.

Such deposition over great stretches of country is perhaps not so

surprising as it appears at first sight when seen from without in its

totality. After all, something not unlike it occurs in our snow-storms

when hundreds of square miles are whitened at once. Furthermore, with

an atmosphere as thin as Mars seems to possess the temperature must be

perilously near the freezing-point in the arctic and subarctic regions

at the close of summer.

Steadily, with intermissions, the white sheet increased until even the

dark border to the cap became obliterate, the kernel showing at first

through the veil like the ghost of what it had been, and then ceasing

to be visible at all, its delimitations being buried under deeper and

deeper depositions of frost.

[Illustration: First northern snow.]

The perennial portion of the cap was thus merged in the new-fallen

snow. This marked the on-coming of the arctic winter in full force and

happened even before the polar sun had wholly set. For the pole did not

enter into the shadow till two of our months later, the autumnal

equinox occurring 183 days after the summer solstice or 55 days after

the first fall of frost. Then the pole passed into its star-strewn

arctic night, a polar night of twice the duration of our own and the

circumpolar regions entered upon their long hibernation of ten of our

months.

Mars and Its Canals · 第 6 / 16 章