Chapter II: Part 2

"3. 'Perhaps the countries seen by Don Juan de Gama might be found more speedily and with more certitude by seeking them to the southeast of Kamshatka;' the outcome of which project showed him his mistake, which is apparently the reason that induced him to change it to that of the route by Japan and Yeco.

"Nothing is so imperfect in detail, and withal so dry, as the recital of M. Bering's voyage with which M. de l'Isle regales us. He makes him start in 1741 to look to the east of Kamshatka for the land which he had seen indications of in his first voyage. 'He did not go very far,' he says, 'for, being assailed by a violent storm during thick weather, he could not remain at sea, and brought up on a desert island in latitude 54°, only a short distance from the Port of Avatcha from whence he had sailed.'

"M. Bering, then, did nothing but fail, and he did so soon after leaving port. I must therefore supplement the meagreness of M. de l'Isle's relation by giving an account of the voyage of M. Bering and the other officers, chiefs of these expeditions, which will be so much the more easy as I took part in them and as I can, besides, refer to the charts and journals of each vessel as proofs of my correctness.

"The Captain Commanding Bering and Captains Spangenberg and Tschirikow, with several other naval officers, left St. Petersburg in the spring of 1733. They waited at Yakouzk and Ochozk until the vessels being built at this latter place for their expedition were completed, and when all was ready for the departure of M. de Spangenberg he was dispatched first, according to the orders of the Senate. He started, then, from Ochozk in the month of June, 1738, having three vessels under his command, to which he added a large covered row-boat of 24 oars, which he caused to be constructed at Bolscherezkoi Ostrog in Kamshatka, where he wintered. This boat was to be used to go into the narrow straits between the islands that they might find and where the ships could not go. In the summer of 1739 he went to Japan, the long chain of islands situated between Japan and Kamshatka serving to guide him. He landed at two different places in Japan and was received with great civility by the people of the country; but he never went to Matsmai, the principal place {226} on the island of Yeco, as M. de l'Isle erroneously states. He thought he had sufficiently complied with his instructions without doing so, and returning to Ochozk, passed the winter at Yakouzk. As soon as a detailed account of this voyage was seen in St. Petersburg they concluded by the route which M. Spangenberg had followed that he must have passed near the coast of Corea, and he was therefore ordered to make a second voyage in order to confirm the first. He started in 1741 and 1742, but his ship, built hastily and of unseasoned wood, leaked and obliged him to return.

"MM. Bering and Tschirikow left Ochozk the 4th of September, 1740. They both had the same destination; the second was to follow the track of the first. They only took different vessels so as to be able to assist each other more efficaciously in case of any accident. Without entering the Bolschaia-Reka river, as is customary in coming from Ochozk, they immediately rounded the southern point of Kamshatka and anchored at Avatscha, or port of St. Peter and St. Paul, as they called it. While wintering in these places, they made all their preparations for commencing in spring their principal voyage, which was to have America as its object. Owing, however, to the uncertainty as to the route which they were to follow, M. Bering assembled a naval council on the 4th of May, 1741, and it was resolved to endeavor first to discover the land of Don Juan de Gama, a fatal resolution which was the cause of all of our disasters. The 4th June we put to sea. M. Bering had on his vessel, sent by the Academy, an adjutant, M. Steller, physician by profession, but above all well versed in all that pertained to natural history. M. de la Croyere was with M. Tschirikow. Although M. Bering and M. Tschirikow were not to separate, according to their instructions, they could not avoid it, for eight days after sailing they were separated by storms and fogs. The search for the pretended land of Gama caused them to direct their course southeast; they continued to sail in that direction as far as the 46th degree without, however, finding the slightest vestige of it. They then changed their course to the northeast and both reached the coast of America, but in different places and without knowing of the whereabouts of the other. M. Bering and we who accompanied him saw land for the first time after being six weeks at sea. We then calculated that we were about five hundred Dutch leagues from Avatscha. We provided ourselves with fresh water. We saw indications of inhabitants, but could perceive no one. After being at anchor three days, M. Bering consulted with his officers, and it was resolved to return. The 21st July we weighed anchor before sunrise. There was nothing to do but to follow the coast, which stretched westward; but navigation was seriously embarrassed by frequent islands, and when we tried to put to sea we were met by storms and contrary winds, which caused us new delays every day. In order to procure fresh water, we returned towards the coast, from which we had kept as far as possible. Soon it was in sight, seeming about ten miles distant. We anchored between the islands, and the one where we landed was Schoumagin-Ostrow. The water was good, but although taken from a lake, there was, nevertheless, some sea water in it brought by the tide, which sometimes inundated the island. Afterwards {227} we felt disastrous effects from its use, in sickness and the loss of several of our men, who died. We tried in vain during three or four days to discover some natives of the country, whose fires we could see at night on the coast. The 4th of September these savages finally came, of themselves, in little canoes, and, having announced their arrival to us by a loud cry, they presented us with their calumets, in sign of peace. These calumets were sticks with the wings of falcons attached to the end. We understood from their gestures that they were inviting us to come on land in order to furnish us with provisions and fresh water. We wished to profit by the opportunity, and some of us ventured to follow them; but soon, however, misunderstandings arose and all communication was broken off.

"The 6th of September, after having at first had a tolerably good wind for the voyage, we began to find that as we advanced the obstacles were increasing, nothing but coasts and islands on every side. M. Bering wished to get away from them by sailing more southwards, and, in truth, for several days the sea appeared much more free. Our joy, however, was of short duration. The 24th of September, in latitude 54 degrees, we came upon coasts bordered with a number of islands, and at the same time a violent tempest arose, which lasted seventeen days and sent us back a distance of eighty miles. An old pilot acknowledged that during the fifty years that he had followed the sea he had never seen such a storm. We should then stop calling this ocean 'Pacific.' This name may, perhaps, be suitable to it in the tropics, but certainly is wrongly given to it here. The weather became calm again, but our provisions were by this time considerably diminished and there was only about a third of our crew who remained well and serviceable after all the hardships to which they had been exposed. There was still more than half of our way to make, counting from the extreme point of our voyage in the East to Avatscha. In view of these facts, many of us were of opinion that it would be better to winter somewhere in America, rather than run the risk of encountering new dangers worse, perhaps, than those we had just escaped; and these counsels came near prevailing over those who were of opinion that we should make a supreme effort to reach Avatscha, and that it would be time to think of seeking another refuge when we had lost all hope of succeeding in so doing. The month of October, however, was passed as fruitlessly as the preceding ones. The 30th of that month we came upon two islands, which seemed to us to bear some resemblance to the first two of those islands which stretch from the southern extremity of Kamshatka to Japan. Thereupon we directed our course northwards, and the 4th November, having observed the latitude, we found that we were under the 56th parallel. The 5th, however, finished our voyage. Wishing to sail to the west, we struck upon a desert island, where we had a good prospect of finishing our lives. Our vessel went to pieces upon one of those banks with which the island is surrounded, and we were not long in seeking land, which we fortunately reached with everything which we thought we should need. By a special dispensation of Providence, the winds and waves threw the remains of our vessel on shore; we gathered them {228} together to try, with the aid of God, to put ourselves in a position to leave this sorry dwelling. The island where we now found ourselves was destitute of trees. We were, therefore, obliged to depend upon the wood that the sea brought us to build our cabins and warm ourselves. We gave to this desert place the name of Bering island, in honor of the chief of our expedition, and it was there that he died, on the 8th of December, of grief and sorrow at having to give up all hope of returning to Kamshatka. He refused to eat or drink, and disdained the shelter of our cabins; his advanced age could not rally under such a disaster. We young men kept our courage up, resisted with firmness all discouragement, made it a duty to still enjoy life and to make as much as we could out of our prison home. Before our arrival, Bering island was the refuge only of the inhabitants of the sea, who came there to breathe the air and deposit their young. We were, therefore, able at first to observe these creatures very closely without their taking fright. It was only after having seen several of their number fall before our guns that they fled at our approach. We killed a great number of them, as much to furnish us with food as for their skins. It was by these valuable spoils, splendid castor skins, that we were repaid in some measure for our sufferings.

"At the approach of spring the following year we built of the remains of our vessel, as we had intended, a large covered boat, furnished with anchors and sails and able to live at sea if not exposed to storms. In this boat we confided ourselves to the sea, trusting in Providence, the 17th of August, 1742, and after nine days at sea, with beautiful calm weather, we arrived safely at Avatscha on the 26th, giving thanks to the Almighty, who had delivered us from such great dangers, and imbued us with gratitude such as time can never efface.

"From this account we can correct the error of M. de l'Isle, who places Bering island at the 54th degree, only a short distance from Avatscha, whereas it is on the 56th parallel, sixty miles from Avatscha and forty Dutch miles from the mouth of the Kamshatka river.

"The voyage of M. Tschirikow, although attended with less fatigue and danger, was not less painful to him. His tender heart, which his profession of mariner had not rendered indifferent to the sufferings of others, was indeed sorely tried. After parting from M. Bering, sailing northwest, he came on the 15th of July to a country the shores of which were lined with rugged rocks, at the foot of which rolled a deep sea. He prudently refrained from approaching too near the shore, but at the end of three days sent the pilot, Abraham Dementiew, with a crew of ten men, to reconnoiter the country. Neither Dementiew nor any of those who accompanied him ever returned; and most sincerely was he mourned, and deservedly so, for he was young, good-looking, of an honorable family, steady and clever in his profession, and zealous in the service of his country. After waiting six days, M. Tschirikow sent the boatman, Sidor Sawelef, with three men, but they did not return any more than the others. While waiting for their return we constantly saw smoke on the shores, and the day after the departure of the boatman two men, in different boats, came from the spot where Dementiew and Sawelew had {229} landed. When they had approached near enough to be heard they began to call out, 'Agai, agai,' and then went back. M. Tschirikow did not know what to think of their conduct, and now, despairing of the return of his men and having no more boats to send on shore, he determined, on the 27th of July, to leave the place, follow the coast as much as possible, and then return to Kamshatka. M. de l'Isle, then, makes an addition of his own when he says that 'M. Tschirikow made many excursions into the country, during the month of August, while waiting for the return of his men.' To return to the truth, M. Tschirikow, in a distance of one hundred miles, never lost sight of land; he battled often with contrary winds, had much anxiety on account of the heavy fogs, and lost an anchor which he had put out, not far from the coast, in a moment of great danger. He was visited by twenty-one canoes, of tanned skins, each one containing a man; but this was all--for he was unable to converse with them. The scarcity of water and the scurvy carried off many of his men. Among the officers he lost two lieutenants--Lichatschew and Plautin, fine men and excellent mariners--who might have rendered good service had they lived. M. Tschirikow himself began to have the symptoms of disease, but good food and the air on land restored him to health. M. de la Croyere was not so fortunate; he appeared to have held his own until he was just at the point of death. His companions marveled at the good effects of the large quantities of brandy which he drank every day; but they soon saw that the only good it did him was to make him forget his sufferings. He died on the 10th of October, as they were entering the port of Avatscha, having dressed himself to go on shore and having celebrated his arrival by new excesses. We cannot ignore the important service rendered by M. de la Croyere to the expedition, when he recognized the Americans who came to M. Tschirikow as bearing great resemblance to the inhabitants of Canada, whom he had met while serving in that country seventeen years before coming to Russia, with the King of France's troops."

* * * * *

NOTE.--A pamphlet which has just come into my possession, entitled "Lettre de Monsieur d'Anville au R. P. Castel, Jesuit. Au sujet des Pays de Kamtchatka," etc. (24mo, Paris, 1737), throws some light on the map of du Halde (1732), and definitely fixes the date and locality of the observation of the eclipse of the moon referred to by de l'Isle and the Russian officer, as well as later geographers.

D'Anville says:

"The map of Bering's voyage is attributed to me.... The only part I had therein was to reduce it from the much larger original map, of which I had made a tracing by means of oiled paper.... I first learned of Bering's voyage by letters from de l'Isle, then in Russia; and finally an account of this voyage having been sent to R. P. du Halde by His Majesty Stanislas, King of Poland, it was placed in my hands.

{230} "Likewise, both by a sheet of _astronomical observations made by Bering which came to me_ later, and by the same letters of M. de l'Isle, I knew that the mouth of the river of Kamtchatka was found by astronomical determination to be in latitude 56° and some minutes.

"Bering in his navigation doubled the southern point of this continent [Kamshatka] in latitude 51° 10", as is expressly noted in the sheet of _observations_ which is now before me.

"But though the solution of the difficulty in the case of the Land of Jeco may be very simple and natural, yet it was not obvious to me, it may be said, for Bering's voyage and observations caused me to recur to this subject, and I can no longer doubt that the eastern coast of Tartary should be moved to the east as far as the maps of the Jesuits first indicated; for although M. de Strahlenberg in his excellent map of Siberia shows only 65° of longitude between Tobolsk and Okhotsk, and there are even less in de l'Isle's map of Tartary, yet Bering's map indicates that there are 74°.

"It was found that it (Ohkotz) is 25° off of the meridian of Peking, which the observations of P. Gaubil placed in 113° fifty-odd minutes from Paris, so that it closely approximates the 139° which we have found it to be from Bering's observations. This determination does not differ much from the result of some astronomical observations, which, as I learn from China, M. de l'Isle, now in Russia, contemplated using in order to ascertain approximately the longitude of Kamtchat. The observation upon which I place the most dependence, and which likewise gives the greatest difference, is of an eclipse of the moon of February 25, 1728, of which the end was observed on the west coast of Kamtshat in latitude 52° 46' N., Sirius having an altitude of 19° 18' to the west, wherefrom M. de l'Isle calculated that the true time answered to 6h. 52m. p.m.

"This eclipse, the end especially, fell throughout Europe in the daytime, but having been observed at Carthagena, West Indies, by D. Jean Herrera, where it ended at 3h. 34m. a.m., a difference of 8h. 42m. is deduced between the meridians of Carthagena and the coast of Kamtshat."

It is thus evident that Bering observed an eclipse of the moon in Kamshatka, and that the observations came into the hands of M. d'Anville.

A. W. G.

JANUARY 21, 1892.

{231}

HEIGHT AND POSITION OF MOUNT ST. ELIAS.

BY

ISRAEL C. RUSSELL.

(_Laid before the Board of Managers December 11, 1891_.)

The height and position of Mount St. Elias have been measured several times during the past century with varying results. The measurements made prior to 1891 have been summarized and discussed by W. H. Dall, of the U. S. Coast and Geodetic Survey.[1] The various results obtained are shown in the following table. With the exception of the position determined by Malaspina and the measurements of 1891, they are copied from Dall's report.

[Footnote 1: Rep. of the Superintendent of the U. S. Coast Survey for 1875, pp. 157-188.]

_Height and Position of Mount St. Elias_.

-----+--------------------+-------------+-------------+-------------
Date.| Authority. | Height. | Latitude. | Longitude.
-----+--------------------+-------------+-------------+-------------
1786 | La Pérouse | 12,672 feet | 60° 15' 00" | 140° 10' 00"
1791 | Malaspina | 17,851 " | 60 17 35 | 140 52 17
1794 | Vancouver | ----------- | 60 22 30 | 140 39 00
1847 | Russian Hydrogra- | | |
| phic Chart, 1378 | 17,850 " | 60 21 00 | 141 00 00
1847 | Tebenkof (Notes) | 16,938 " | 60 22 36 | 140 54 00
1849 | Tebenkof | | |
| (Chart VII) | 16,938 " | 60 21 30 | 140 54 00
| Bach. Can. Inseln | 16,758 " | 60 17 30 | 140 51 00
1872 | English Admiralty |
| Chart 2172 | 14,970 " | 60 21 00 | 141 00 00
1874 | U. S. Coast Survey | 19,500±400 "| 60 20 45 | 141 00 12
1891 | Nat. Geog. Soc. Ex.| 18,100±100 "| 60 17 51 | 140 55 30
-----+--------------------+-------------+-------------+-------------

The position given by Malaspina is from a report on astronomical observations made during his voyage,[2] which places the mountain in longitude 134° 33' 10" west of Cadiz. Taking {232} the longitude of Cadiz as 6° 19' 07" west of Greenwich, the figures given in the table are obtained.

[Footnote 2: Memorias sobre las obversaciones astronomicas hechas por les navegantes Españoles en distintos lugares del globe; Por Don Josef Espinosa y Tello. Madrid, en la Imprente real, Ano de 1809: 2 vols., large 8°; vol. 1, pp. 57-60. My attention was directed to this work by Dr. Dall, who owns the only copy I have seen.]

The data from which the various determinations made previous to 1874 were obtained have not been published. The observations made by Messrs. Dall and Baker, of the U. S. Coast and Geodetic Survey, are published in full in the annual report of that Survey for 1875, already referred to. The observations made by myself last summer as a part of the work of an expedition sent to Mount St. Elias by the National Geographic Society and the U. S. Geological Survey, from which the height and position of the mountain have been computed, are as follows:

A base line 16,876 feet long was measured on the beach at Icy bay. The line, with the exception of section _C_ to _D_, as shown below, was measured three times in sections of about 3,000 feet each. The distances given below in columns 1 and 2 were obtained with a 100-foot steel tape, and those given in column 3 with a 300-foot iron wire. These are rough measurements, made without the use of a plumb-bob and without taking account of temperature. The ground was quite smooth, with a rise of about five feet in the center; but section _C_ to _D_ was crossed by a stream channel about 300 feet broad and twenty feet deep. Throughout much of the distance the ground was covered with grass, which was only partially cleared away. The stations at the ends of the line were ten feet above high tide. The bearing of the line from the western base was S. 89° E., magnetic.

_Measurements of Base Line_.

---------------------+-----------+-----------+-----------+----------
| 1. | 2. | 3. | Mean.
---------------------+-----------+-----------+-----------+----------
| _Ft. in._ | _Ft. in._ | _Ft. in._ | _Ft. in._
Western base to | | | |
station _A_ | 3,179 10 | 3,178 7 | 3,178 9 | 3,179 1
Station _A_ to | | | |
station _B_ | 2,355 2 | 2,354 1 | 2,354 2 | 2,354 6
Station _B_ to | | | |
station _C_ | 3,589 0 | 3,587 9 | 3,586 0 | 3,587 7
Station _C_ to | | | |
station _D_ | Rejected. | 2,609 2 | 2,609 5 | 2,609 3
Station _D_ to | | | Not |
eastern base | 5,145 5 | 5,144 10 | measured. | 5,145 1
| | | | ---------
Length of base line | | | | 16,875 6
---------------------+-----------+-----------+-----------+----------

The measurements of angles were made with a gradienter reading by vernier to minutes. The error of the vertical arc was -3', and remained constant during the observations.

{233} _Measurements of Angles at Western Base_.

------------+----------+----------+---------+-----------------------
| Right | Left | Vertical|
| vernier. | vernier. | angle. | Date.
------------+----------+----------+---------+-----------------------
St. Elias | 218° 35' | 38° 35' | +5° 40' | 1891, Aug. 14, 10 a.m.
1. Eastern | 317 6 | 137 7 | ------- | " " "
base | | | |
------------+----------+----------+---------+-----------------------
St. Elias | 218 34 | 38 37 | +5 40 | " " "
2. Eastern | 317 6 | 137 7 | ------- | " " "
base | | | |
------------+----------+----------+---------+-----------------------
St. Elias | 218 37 | 38 39 | +5 40 | " " "
3. Eastern | 317 6 | 137 8 | ------- | " " "
base | | | |
------------+----------+----------+---------+-----------------------
St. Elias | 261 41 | 81 43 | +5 40 | " " "
4. Eastern | 0 10 | 180 11 | ------- | " " "
base | | | |
------------+----------+----------+---------+-----------------------
St. Elias | 261 41 | 81 43 | +5 40 | " " "
5. Eastern | 0 10 | 180 10 | ------- | " " "
base | | | |
------------+----------+----------+---------+-----------------------
St. Elias | 50 15 | 230 15 | +5 40 | " " 6 p.m.
6. Eastern | 148 45 | 328 45 | ------- | " " "
base | | | |
------------+----------+----------+---------+-----------------------
St. Elias | 50 15 | -------- | ------- | " " "
7. Eastern | 148 45 | -------- | ------- | " " "
base | | | |
------------+----------+----------+---------+-----------------------
St. Elias | 181 5 | 1 5 | +5 40 | " " "
8. Eastern | 279 30 | 99 32 | ------- | " " "
base | | | |
------------+----------+----------+---------+-----------------------

_Measurements of Angles at Eastern Base_.

------------+----------+----------+---------+-----------------------
| Right | Left | Vertical|
| vernier. | vernier. | angle. | Date.
------------+----------+----------+---------+-----------------------
St. Elias | 252° 26' | 72° 27' | +5° 34' | 1891, Aug. 17, 11.30
1. Western | 176 19 | 356 19 | ------- | " " a.m.
base | | | |
------------+----------+----------+---------+-----------------------
St. Elias | 252 26 | 72 26 | +5 34 | " " "
2. Western | 176 19 | 356 19 | ------- | " " "
base | | | |
------------+----------+----------+---------+-----------------------
St. Elias | 252 25 | 72 26 | +5 34 | " " "
3. Western | 176 19 | 356 19 | ------- | " " "
base | | | |
------------+----------+----------+---------+-----------------------
St. Elias | 252 26 | 72 27 | +5 34 | " " "
4. Western | 176 19 | 356 19 | ------- | " " "
base | | | |
------------+----------+----------+---------+-----------------------
St. Elias | 252 26 | 72 26 | +5 34 | " " "
5. Western | 176 19 | -------- | ------- | " " "
base | | | |
------------+----------+----------+---------+-----------------------
St. Elias | 252 27 | 72 28 | +5 34 | " " 2 p.m.
6. Western | 176 20 | 356 20 | ------- | " " "
base | | | |
------------+----------+----------+---------+-----------------------
St. Elias | 252 28 | -------- | ------- | " " 4.30
7. Western | 176 21 | -------- | ------- | " " p.m.
base | | | |
------------+----------+----------+---------+-----------------------

{234} From these observations the following angles between the base line and the line of sight to the summit of Mount St. Elias are obtained. The correction for error of vertical circle has been applied to the angles of elevation.

_Resulting Angles_.
--------------------------------------+
| WESTERN BASE. |
--+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| | | Corrected |
| Right | Left | Vertical |
| vernier. | vernier. | angle. |
--+-----------+-----------+-----------+
1 | 98° 31' | 98° 32' | +5° 43' |
2 | 98 32 | 98 30 | +5 43 |
3 | 98 29 | 98 29 | +5 43 |
4 | 98 29 | 98 28 | +5 43 |
5 | 98 29 | 98 27 | +5 43 |
6 | 98 30 | 98 30 | +5 43 |
7 | 98 30 | --------- | +5 43 |
8 | 98 25 | 98 27 | +5 43 |
--+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| 98 29 22 | 98 29 00 | |
--+-----------+-----------+-----------+
Mean 98° 29' 12" +5° 43' |
--------------------------------------+
| EASTERN BASE. |
--+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| | | Corrected |
| Right | Left | Vertical |
| vernier. | vernier. | angle. |
--+-----------+-----------+-----------+
1 | 76° 7' | 76° 8' | +5° 37' |
2 | 76 7 | 76 7 | +5 37 |
3 | 76 6 | 76 7 | +5 37 |
4 | 76 7 | 76 8 | +5 37 |
5 | 76 7 | --------- | +5 37 |
6 | 76 7 | 76 8 | +5 37 |
7 | 76 7 | | |
--+-----------+-----------+-----------+
| 76 6 51 | 76 7 36 | |
--+-----------+-----------+-----------+
Mean 76° 7' 10" +5° 37' |
--------------------------------------+

The known elements of the triangle from which the distance of St. Elias from the ends of the base line may be determined are:

These data were sent from the field to the Secretary of the National Geographic Society, and, in connection with other measurements made at the same time, have been computed by {235} Mr. S. S. Gannett, of the United States Geological Survey. The results of the computation, so far as they relate to Mount St. Elias, are given below:

_Computation of the Height of Mount St. Elias_.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
_Station_. _Angle_. 16,876 _ft. log._
Dist. E. base--W. base = 4.227270
St. Elias 5° 23' 38" A. C. log. sine = 1.026862
Western base 98 29 12 log. sine = 9.995218
Eastern base 76 07 10 log. sine = 9.987129
---------- --------
St. Elias--W. base = 5.241261
St. Elias--E. base = 5.249350
-------------------------------------------------------------------
_log. feet_. _log. miles_. _miles_.
Log. distance: St. Elias--W. base = 5.241261 1.518627 33.01
Log. tan angle of elevation 5° 43' = 9.000465
--------
17447 ft. 4.241726
Curvature and refraction = +623
Western base above sea = +10 Correction for curvature and
----- refraction in feet = 4/7 sq.
St. Elias above sea = 18080 ft. of dist. in miles.

log. distance miles = 1.51863
1.51863
log. 4 = 0.60206
A. C. log. 7 = 9.15490
-------
log. 623 ft. = 2.79422
-------------------------------------------------------------------
_log. feet_. _log. miles_. _miles_.
Log. distance: St. Elias--E. base = 5.249350 1.526716 33.63
Log. tan 5° 37' 8.992750 1.526716
-------- 0.602060
17462 = 4.242100 9.154902
Curvature and refraction = +646 --------
E. base above sea = +10 log. 646 ft. = 2.810394
-----
St. Elias above sea = 18118 ft.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Mean elevation above sea level = 18099 ft.;
or in round numbers 18,100 ft.

Mr. A. Lindenkohl, of the U. S. Coast and Geodetic Survey, and Mr. S. S. Gannett have each computed the geographic position of Mount St. Elias, using the azimuth and angle of elevation of the mountain obtained by the U. S. Coast Survey at Port Mulgrave in 1874,[3] and the elevation given above. From {236} these data the approximate position of Mount St. Elias was found to be:

Lat., 60° 17' 51" N.
Long., 140° 55' 30" W.

[Footnote 3: Report of the Superintendent of the U. S. Coast Survey for 1875, Appendix 10, pp. 157-188.]

The computation by which these results were obtained is given below:

_Computation of Geographic Position of Mount St. Elias_.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Azimuth: Port Mulgrave to Mount St. Elias = 142° 17' 17"
Diff. azimuth -59 55
+ 180° +180°
-------------
Azimuth: Mount St. Elias to Port Mulgrave = 321° 17' 22"

-----------------------------------------------------------------

_Latitude_. _Longitude_.
59° 33' 42" = Port Mulgrave 139° 46' 16"
+44 09 = Diff. lat. +1 09 14 = Diff. long.
---------- -----------
60° 17' 51" = Mount St. Elias 140° 55' 30"

--------------------------------------------------------------------

1st Term. 2d Term.
_Log. meters_.
Log. K = (Dist., Mulgrave-St. Elias) = 5.0183184 K^2 = 0.0366
Log. cosine azimuth, Z, 142° 17' 17" = 9.8982292 Sine^2 Z = 9.5731
Log. B = 8.5093902 Log. C = 1.6335
--------- ------
Log. 2666".5 = 3.4259378 Log. 17".6 = 1.2432
1st term = + 2666".5
2nd term = - 17 .6
-------
Difference lat. = 2648".9

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Log. K = 5.0183184
Log. sine azimuth = 9.7865328
Log. A[4] = 8.5086148
Arithmetical complement 60° 17' 51" = 0.3049593
---------
Log. diff. in longitude 4153".6 = 3.6184253

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Log. diff. long. = 3.61843
Log. sine mean latitude 59° 55' 46" = 9.93722
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Log. diff. azimuth--3595" = 3.55565

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[Footnote 4: _A_, _B_ and _C_ are terms depending on the size and figure of the earth and the latitude of the place.]

{237} The geographic position of Mount St. Elias is of popular interest in connection with the boundaries of Alaska.

In the convention between Great Britain and Russia,[5] wherein the boundaries of Alaska are supposed to be defined, it is stated that the boundary, beginning at the south, after leaving Portland channel, shall follow the summit of the mountains situated parallel to the coast as far as the 141st meridian, and from there northward the said meridian shall be the boundary to the Arctic ocean. Whenever the summit of the mountains between Portland channel and the 141st meridian "shall prove to be at the distance of more than ten marine leagues from the ocean, the limit between the British possessions and the line of coast which is to belong to Russia, above mentioned, shall be formed by a line parallel to the windings of the coast and which shall never exceed the distance of ten marine leagues therefrom."

[Footnote 5: Message from the President of the United States, transmitting Report on the boundary line between Alaska and British Columbia. 50th Congress, 2d session, Ex. Doc. No. 146, Senate, 1889.]

As Mount St. Elias is approximately in longitude 140° 55' 30" west from Greenwich, as already shown, it is therefore only 4' and 30" of longitude or 2½ statute miles east of the boundary of the main portion of Alaska. Its distance from the nearest point on the coast is 33 statute miles. There is no coast range in southeastern Alaska parallel with the coast within the limits specified by the treaty, and the boundary must therefore be considered as a line parallel with the coast and ten marine leagues, or 34½ statute miles, inland. The mountain is thus one and one-half miles south of the boundary and within the territory of the United States. Its position is so near the junction of the boundary separating southeastern Alaska from the Northwest Territory with the 141st meridian that it is practically a corner monument of our national domain.

{238}

THE HEART OF AFRICA.

BY E. C. HORE.

(_Abstracts of two Lectures presented before the Society March 6 and March 13, 1891_.)

I.

The subject of Africa and its people has recently become a most interesting and popular one. We are but now beginning to realize the size and importance of Africa, as we are reminded that it contains nearly one-fourth part of the land area of the world; that it has mountains at least 1,000 feet higher than the most lofty American peaks; that the known extent of the Nile and the Congo now make them the rivals of the Yang-tse-Kiang and the Mississippi as the longest rivers in the world; that its central regions, instead of the great desert blank so long shown on our maps, is a rich and beautiful elevated region, having upon its heights a splendid collection of fresh-water lakes or inland seas, fertilizing by their outflowing streams the whole continent; and that it is known to contain over 250,000,000 people, or about one-seventh part of the world's population. It is called the "dark continent:" rather should it be called the "new world," in which our interest and responsibility--political, commercial and social--is rapidly growing.

For purposes of general description, there are three great divisions of the African continent and its peoples and affairs:

_The northern division_, stamped and characterized--men, manners and things--by the orientalism of its conquering settlers, so intimately blended by blood, religion and character with the natives as to have become essentially African, its original peoples so thoroughly influenced by the incoming foreigners as to be now essentially oriental;

_The southern division_, overrun in more modern times by foreigners of other races, and having its own peculiar civilization and characteristics due to that influx; and

{239} _Central Africa_, including all that portion of the continent lying between, say, the Albert Nyanza and the river Zambesi, and Zanzibar and the Congo mouth, and which, although no part now remains of it that is not nominally the territory either of the Congo Free state or some European power, is still almost entirely in the possession and occupation of its lawful owners, the native uncivilized tribes.

As well as this transverse political division of Africa, we may make what may be called a concentric analysis. Commencing with the outer _skin_, the 16,000 miles of African coast, we find upon it certain excrescences, which, if our examination went but skin-deep, might well lead us to regard Africa not as a "new," but as an "old, old" world. On the north and east the remains of ancient civilizations, Morocco, Tangier, Egypt, remind us of Africa's bygone grandeur--remind us how very much of forms of beauty and secrets of science and art came to us in the birth of civilized Europe from or through Africa. On the south and west again, memorials of Phoenician, of Portuguese, of Dutch, English and American conquering visitors and adventurers remind us of the constant preying of the nations on the dark continent--remind us, through certain prison castles still to be seen on the western coast, of the great world's crime, the slave trade. But on the outer surface of Africa other signs are to be read: North, south, east and west there are ports and roadsteads forested with the masts of the world's shipping conveying to Africa's every shore those products of the civilized world which, according to their nature for good or harm, are to influence and civilize the Africans; carrying away from her shore the land's products--a constant stream, increasing perhaps just now, but which has always been flowing--of wool, cotton, oil, rich spices, dyes and medicinal and ornamental woods, india-rubber, gum-copal, ivory, precious stones, gold. Are these the products of a desert land inhabited only by a lazy and savage people?

Following our concentric analysis, the first layer behind the outer skin of Africa may be said to consist of a verdant slope, broad and luxuriant in the tropics, where nature herself has been lavish, narrower, but still ever widening, in the drier north and south, as the oriental and the European respectively advance their groves of fruit and fields of corn, maintained in luxuriance alike by the vapors of the sea and the down drainage from the higher lands, and from the same causes also malarious and {240} unhealthy. In another sense, too, this outer belt is both rich and unhappy. Into it come those men and things representing "civilization" from afar. To it, from the interior, gravitate those of the natives who are influenced by contact with those men and things, deprived to a great extent of the old uncivilized condition and its innocencies and partially imbued with what of civilization has come to them. Mankind, too, in this outer belt is often only too rank and unhealthy in his character. It is truly "darkest Africa;" for, first, the slave trade and then the rum bottle have in many parts been the preponderating representatives to them of outer civilization.

The next layer is a step or terrace of flat sandy semi-arid country, narrow in the tropics, widening toward each extreme, until it bulges out in the north into the Sahara desert, in the south into the Kalahari, some parts always bare and sandy or covered with a sparkling saline or alkaline deposit, some parts forming broad savannas or prairies, bearing rich grasses in the rains, burnt bare in the dry season; others covered with thickets of thorns or stunted and crippled trees under the same variations of seasons. This is the land of the ostrich and the pelican, the scene of vast prairie fires or whirling dust spouts; it is the land also of the nomad man. Across the Sahara the wandering Arab leads his camels from oasis to oasis; amid the wastes of the Kalahari the homeless Bushman finds a congenial hunting territory; in the narrow, tropical parts such semi-nomads as the Somali, the Wamasai, and the Wagogo lead their cattle from place to place, as the grass and water serve them with the seasons.

This terrace or flat sandy belt being crossed, we come to the true central region of Africa, a long irregular oval-shaped elevation of mountain masses, spreading out in many places as vast plateaus and forming altogether that mysterious elevated region reported from time to time by old investigators as well as compilers of native reports as the Mountains of the Moon. In the crevices of this central mass, in rocky basins, in fathomless chasms, in vast depressions of the plateaus, lie those great natural rainwater tanks known as the central African lakes. On and around it are the richest and most beautiful and healthful countries. Spreading over it and around its beautiful waters are the most intelligent and industrious of the native African tribes, their native industry and enterprise yet almost undisturbed by the {241} busy excitement of civilization. Hence there may fairly be drawn something like a sample of the real African native character and condition. They live in families; among them the family tie and the rights of property are regarded; conscience pronounces criminal and offensive the same irregularities as are so regarded among civilized peoples; in stature and physical condition they come up to the best standards. I argue that the life and condition which presents this state of things after isolation for thousands of years from all we call civilized can scarcely be called evil or degraded.

Among these people, both pastoral and agricultural, are to be found in progress the germs at least of all the useful arts--the procuring and working of both iron and copper, pottery-making, the spinning and weaving of cotton cloth, the very beautiful development of plaiting of all kinds of vegetal fibers into string, rope, mats, baskets and cloth; and where valuable materials and products are naturally confined to particular localities, as is the case sometimes with oil, salt, etc., it is manufactured and distributed. Too often are people described as lacking in industry who are not the same as ourselves; but it seems to me ridiculous that a man should be called lazy because he has ample leisure between his busy times, who has made with his own hands, from nature's absolutely raw material, his house, his axe and hoe and spear, his clothing and ornaments, his furniture, his corn mill, all things that he has, and who, though liable often in a lifetime to have to repeat that whole process over again, has the energy and enterprise to commence afresh. Too often have the same people been called savage and bloodthirsty who, through all experience and by all their traditions getting naturally to regard unintroduced armed strangers as enemies, have the same desperate energy to defend themselves and their own which, as displayed by our own ancestral relatives, we love to term patriotism and courage.

In a fairly central position on this great central elevation is the elongated basin surrounded by a mountain rim in the bottom of which, in a long chasm, lies Lake Tanganyika, in a position alike so central and so unique that I have termed it the Heart of Africa. Inside the mountain basin rim, the rainfall all converges into Tanganyika; outside, it all flows to the outer shores of the continent by the Nile, the Congo or the Zambesi. Fifteen years ago the waters of Lake Tanganyika, having very slowly {242} gained upon the evaporation (the then only means of carrying off its surplus) attained to the height of the lowest gap in its rim and commenced to flow out, and thence its surplus water ever since has found an exit and now forms part of the Congo system. Tanganyika is 400 miles long and from 15 to 50 miles in width, and is 2,700 feet above the sea.

To leave, however, this very rough general description of Africa at this point would convey a wrong idea. We have described the verdant slope from the coast, the terrace of flatter country, the central elevation and its heart; now we may imagine a series of great ridges and furrows and other radial features diverging from the heart of Africa to its very shores, besides certain isolated ridges and peaks, some of them snow-clad, and certain isolated depressions forming lakes or swamps; first the three great furrows of the Nile, Zambesi and Congo and the three great ridges formed by their dividing water-sheds, and so on through fan-like expansions of rim or ridges and furrows until the previously described concentric formation, although still there, is considerably cut up.

The great central mountain mass, buttressed by its far-stretching ridges, forms _the backbone_, from which, outward and downward, in intricate articulations, extends the complicated _bony skeleton_ of Africa.

Set like sparkling jewels in its crevices and depressions, the great lakes send forth the streams which, flowing through gaps in their surrounding mountain barriers, rushing through narrow channels, oozing slowly through elevated flats or bounding in beautiful cascades over steep steps, and carrying the vitalizing fluid in every direction through the length and breadth of Africa, form _its system of circulation_.

Bordering the great lakes and clustering on the slopes, forests of gigantic trees form the _flesh and muscle_ of this great creation; preserved in perpetual verdure wherever water constantly remains and in long extending lines and network fringing the ever-winding banks of the streams, and finally joining with the verdant belt of the sea-coast to form the brilliant _epidermis_ of the whole, and forming background and filling to the network of these prominent features, in broad concentric curves and in belts and patches, the more stunted thorny growth, long grass, broad savanna and sandy plain, ever changing in color and aspect.

The great new and beautiful world of Africa lies open before {243} us; 250,000,000 intelligent and courageous people have become exposed to the influence, for good or evil, of the civilized races. What shall we do with it and them? Quite possible is it fairly and honestly so to explore and deal with both country and people as to develop its resources and benefit them, while adding to the world's treasury of comfort-bringing products and human brotherhood the riches and the friendship of a new continent; but it must be by peaceful and just measures and by honest trade with wholesome wares.

II.

As a practical way of leading you in imagination to the heart of Africa, and as indicating the circumstances and experience upon which my observations on Africa are based, I shall describe one of my many journeys.

In the year 1882 I had the honor to be leader of the largest European expedition that has yet entered Africa, having in it, for instance, 200 more men than the Emin Pasha relief expedition. There were ten Europeans, all told, who represented survey and navigation, medicine, carpentry, blacksmithing, and other specially selected talent for the purpose of exploration and civilization, as well as those specially devoted to the teaching of Christianity, which was the ultimate aim of all. We entered Africa from the village of Saadani, on the eastern coast, opposite Zanzibar, our destination being the shores of Lake Tanganyika at Ujiji.

To make not only our progress sure, but work and residence at our destination safe and possible in such a land, we had stores of groceries, medicines, tools and clothing, and a large quantity of calico and other cloth, which forms the currency of the country, for the purchase of supplies and payment of wages to porters, servants and workmen.

The special locality to be worked being the countries surrounding Lake Tanganyika, to which that extensive and beautiful inland sea gives access, we carried with us also, for its navigation, a sailing boat built of steel, of the form of a sea-going life-boat, and constructed in small sections and pieces for transport. This boat I designed myself. Six of the sections were to travel on {244} specially constructed light carts, drawn by African natives, and the rest, in small pieces, were to be carried by the porters in the ordinary way.

The mode of travel was walking, except when now and then an invalid was carried in a hammock. The method of transport was by means of native porters, hundreds of whom devote themselves to this work. They are paid $5 per month as wages, payable at Zanzibar on their return to the coast, less such advance in kind as they may draw from their leader along the road. In addition, they get a regular allowance of two yards of white calico per seven days, each man, as barter with which to obtain food.

The organization and start of such a party took some time, and parties of from 100 to 300 were dispatched along the road as things were ready, until, when I started with the final rear guard, we had on the road over 900 of these porters, with their headmen and petty officers, all under complete organization.

The first start of the boat-section carts was the scene of apparent disaster. The men, wild with excitement and uniting their shouts with those of onlookers, were beyond all restraint for the moment, and as they rounded a sharp turn to get out of the village of Saadani, over went the carts, one after the other, on their sides; and it was some time before I could train the men to steer more carefully or to move gently down a declivity. In time, however, the whole thing worked well. The fore compartment of the boat, going stem first, often forced its own way through masses of brush and creeper, helping to clear the way for the narrower sections, whose carts insinuated themselves through surprisingly small gaps. The men themselves were most zealous in the service, and as we emerged from lengthy stretches of jungle, ascended steep river banks, or jolted whole days over rugged stony places unharmed, we made up our minds that, these carts would "go anywhere." In twenty days we reached Upwapwa, 200 miles from the coast, and joined an advance party awaiting us; and after a few days rest and reorganization, we started once more westward.

The first village beyond, in the country of Ugogo, was thirty miles off. The first day was a comparatively easy march to a watering place, but the next two days gave us tough work. The thick, tangled, thorny scrub became quite dense, and for those two days we had to cut our way through it foot by foot. Hour {245} after hour the twang of the sword-bayonets and the thud of the axes were almost the only sounds to be heard till the train of carts moved slowly on as the way was opened. Toward evening of the second day we followed a narrow pass along the side of a rocky river bed, stout, inflexible trunks and branches here projecting into our path. On some of these ebony bars the axes resounded as on an anvil, and they yielded only to the more patient saw. As the sun descended we began to flag, but help was at hand; for a party coming back to us from the camp ahead with food and water, we picked up strength and spirit and reached camp late in the evening.

The level plains of Ugogo, which here represent the flat, open step or terrace to which I have referred in the general description of Africa, enabled us to make a week or so of splendid and comfortable marches. Ugogo passed, there lay before us the much-dreaded wilderness, so-called, of the Magunda-Mkali, separated from Ugogo by a steep, rocky ascent, which we could only tackle one cart at a time, and we soon came to a point so rugged with broken rocks that we could proceed no further; but the sections were unlashed, the carts taken to pieces, and all handed or dragged across the difficult place and put together again beyond. Over the scrubby, rugged hill and dale of Magunda-Mkali, without inhabitants, 20 to 25 miles a day was often made; every man knew the necessity of pushing on for food and water, and the danger, from wild beasts or wandering highwaymen, of lagging in the rear.