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THE HUMAN HABITAT

LIBRARY OF MODERN SCIENCES

A popular series treating their influence on the development
of civilization

EDITORS

EDWIN E. SLOSSON, Ph-D., M. LUCKTESH, D.Sc., H. E. HOWE, M.S.

THE EARTH AND THE STARS, By c. G. ABBOT, of the

Smithsonian Institution.

CHEMISTRY IN MODERN LIFE, By SVANTE ARRHENTUS,
Director of the Nobel Institute, translated by CLIFFORD s. LEON-
ARD, Fellow ', National Research Council : Department' of Phar-
macology, Yale University.

ANIMALS OF LAND AND SEA, By AUSTIN CLARK, Curator,
Smithsonian Institution.

CHEMISTRY IN THE WORLD'S WORK, By H. E. HOWE,
Editor, Industrial and Engineering Chemistry.

STORIES IN STONE, By WILLIS T, LEE, Late Geologist, United
States Geological Survey, Washington, D. C.

FOUNDATIONS OF THE UNIVERSE, By M. LTJCKIESH,
Director, Lighting Research Laboratory, National Lamp Works of
General Electric Company.

THE MYSTERY OF MIND, By LEONARD TROLAND, Professor
of Psychology, Harvard University.

SOIL AND CIVILIZATION, By MILTON WHITNEY, Chief of the
Bureau of Soils of the United States Department of Agriculture.

THE HUMAN HABITAT, By ELLSWORTH HTJNTINGTON, Re-
search Associate in Geography, Yale University*

IN PREPARATION:

EVOLUTION, By BENJAMIN c. GRUENBERG, Author, Biology and
Human Life.

OCEANOGRAPHY, By ROY w. MINER, Curator, Department of
Lower Invertabrates t American Museum of Natural History.

THE HUMAN HABITAT

BY

ELLSWORTH HUNTINGTON

RESEARCH ASSOCIATE IN GEOGRAPHY
YALE UNIVERSITY

AUTHOR OP
" CIVILIZATION AND CLIMATE ", " THE CHARACTER OP RACES "

"THE PULSE as PROGRESS", ETC.

SECOND PRINTING

NEW YORK

B. VAN NOSTRAND COMPANY, INC.
EIGHT WAKREN STREET

COPYRIGHT, 1927, BY

D, VAN NOSTRAND COMPANY, INC.

All rights reserved, including that of translation
into foreign languages, including the Scandinavian

First Printing October ig
Second Printing January i

KKIOTED IN THE UNITED STATES OJ AMES1CA BY
THE PLIMPTON PRESS, NORWOOD, MASS.

PREFACE

IN any field of study where knowledge increases rapidly,
it is advisable to take account of stock now and then, and see
what it all means from the standpoint of the average man as
well as the specialist. The growth of human geography has
been especially vigorous during the last few decades. As
is natural and wholesome under such conditions, several
" schools ?J have arisen. The German school, exemplified by
Ratzel, stresses the importance of space relations; the French
school, in which Vidal La Blache holds high rank, is notable
for broad generalizations and fine local descriptions; the Eng-
lish school centers around the natural regions of Herbertson.
The American school, youngest of all, adds to these points of
view four others which figure less prominently elsewhere:
namely, land utilization, the changing quality not only of hu-
man culture but of man's physical environment, the indirect
action of geographic environment especially through the process
of selection, and the effect of geographic environment upon
health.

The utilization of the land is a fundamental theme in all
geography, but in America it assumes new significance. This
is the natural result of the newn$s%,pf the country, for that
enables us to see all stages of the "profess 'in actual operation.
A true understanding of the problem has been greatly facili-
tated by the uniform statistics which the United States and
Canada provide for an enormous area comprising -almost every
type of geographic environment.

1 PREFACE

Geographers have long recognized that primitive man can-
not respond to Ms physical environment in the same way as
civilized man. They have also recognized that the environ-
ment changes by reason of natural fluctuations such as flood
and drought and by reason of human actions such as the de-
pletion of the soil, the felling of forests, and the construction
of artificial lakes and canals. Nevertheless, it has remained
for American workers to carry these ideas to their logical con-
clusion. Mr. C. .S. GilFillan, for example, has compelled us
to note how man's increasing ability to overcome cold weather
has caused a movement of civilization into cooler climates;
Miss Ellen C. Semple has stressed other phases of the prob-
lem; and others have shown how fluctuations of climate have
caused the coldward movement to waver.

One of the most distinctive features of the American school
of geography is its recognition that the indirect effects of physi-
cal environment are at least as potent as the direct effects, and
probably more so. The indirect effects are especially potent
when they arise through natural selection. Physical environ-
ment never compels man to do anything; the compulsion lies
in his own nature. But the environment does say that some
courses of conduct are permissible and others impossible. In
any given environment nature exterminates people who try to
live by means of certain occupations, or who practice certain
habits, or who have certain types of physique. She may do this
very slowly, but she does it so effectively that in the long run,
unless fresh migrations occur, each region comes to be char-
acterized only by occupations, habits and types of people that
are adapted to it. This process of selection is the key to a
large part of the science of geography.

Another distinctive feature of American geography Is its
recognition of the importance of health and energy as primary
factors in determining the rate of human progress. The geo-

PREFACE Vll

graphical distribution of health and its relation to environment
have been statistically studied in the United States much more
than elsewhere. In this respect, as in others, one of the most
characteristic features of American geography is its use of
statistics. A book like Vidal La Blache's fascinating and bril-
liant Human Geography has practically no conscious statistical
basis. Work like that of Dr. 0. E. Baker on the utilization of
the land displays the use of statistics in a way that illuminates
geography most wonderfully.

The present book is an attempt to give the layman a true
idea of human geography as interpreted by the American school
of geographers. It does not pretend to present the proof of
the many conclusions which it sets forth, for that has been
done in hundreds of books and articles by scores of authors.
Nor does it pretend to cover the whole field. It simply selects
certain main phases of the subject as illustrations and sets
them forth quite fully. This method makes it necessary to
omit many highly important phases of geography. The origi-
nal outline included chapters on cities, commerce, minerals
and other topics which have been wholly omitted or greatly
abbreviated. This has seemed advisable because the layman
is far more likely to find profit in a full and interesting discus-
sion of a few of the greatest topics than in the brief and per-
haps dry discussions usually found in books which include
everything.

In preparing this book the author has been indirectly helped
by hundreds of people, but the direct helpers have been al-
most limited to those universal standbys, wife, secretary, li-
brary, government and editors. Mrs. Huntington is respon-
sible for no end of ideas arising out of talks at the table and the
like. Miss Helen L. Harrell has not only copied and recopied
many extremely illegible chapters without a sigh until they
came around the fifth time, but has been a very keen and eager

Vill PREFACE

critic. Changes suggested by her dot almost every page; they
have often been of considerable Importance. The Yale Library
is one of those wise and patient institutions that rarely get
proper credit. The bored air of condescending forbearance with
which the attendants ascertain your wants and then show you
what you already know in some of the big city libraries makes
one appreciate the alacrity, good humor, patience and skill with
which Miss Anne S. Pratt and the other people in the Yale Li-
brary answer questions. Even if the questions are not easy ?
the Library can be relied upon to find out something about al-
most everything. The United States Department of Agricul-
ture, and especially the Bureau of Farm Economics, is the same
sort of institution, unexcelled in the patient and intelligent
courtesy with which it answers all questions and generally gives
one something new and valuable. As for editors, those in
charge of the present series suggested the title of this book and
have made other admirable suggestions which are embodied
herein. Others of equal value could not be used because this
book, like many another, kept changing as it grew.

Aside from these the only other person to whom direct thanks
are due is Professor Ivy F. Lewis of the University of Virginia.
He pointed out to the author the contrast between Buckingham
and Albemarle counties in Virginia and provided much of the
material in the last chapter of this book. An author is indeed
fortunate to find such ready and effective help wherever he
turns.

ELLSWORTH HUNTINGTON.

NEW HAVEN, CONN.
October, 1927.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I. THE TERRESTRIAL CANVAS i

II. WHERE PEOPLE DWELL ig

III. THE EFFECT or GEOGRAPHIC EXTREMES 35

IV. THE DESERT BORDERLANDS 48

V. LANDS THAT ARE TOO COOL 62

VI. THE MARGINS OF CIVILIZATION 71

VII. Too WARM AND MOIST 88

VIII. THE CIVILIZATION OF RICE LANDS 102

IX. TROPICAL PLANTATIONS AND FUTURE FOOD SUPPLIES 120

X. HEALTH, ENERGY AND PROGRESS 136

XI. THE INTERPLAY OF CLIMATIC AND HUMAN CHANGES 148

XII. THE CONTRAST BETWEEN JAPAN AND CHINA 166

XIII. THE CAUSES OF THE CONTRAST 182

XIV. THE CIVILIZATION OF EUROPE 199

XV. AMERICA PRESENT AND PAST 222

XVI. THE RELATION OF THE Son, TO ARISTOCRACY AND DEMOCRACY . . 244

XVII. AN EXAMPLE OF TRANSPORTATION 263

ILLUSTRATIONS

PLATE PAGE

Rice Terraces at Benaul in the Philippines. Courtesy Press

Illustrating Service, Inc Frontispiece

I. Siberian Natives in the Snow on northeast coast of Siberia.

Courtesy American Museum of Natural History 20

II. Unclothed Natives of New Guinea beside a hut of branches.

Courtesy Asia Magazine 21

III. The Cactus Desert of Arizona, showing the kind of environment

which promotes the Apache mode of life 36

IV. Apache Hut of Branches in Arizona. An environment affecting

the Indians much as the Kalahari environment affects the
Bushmen. Courtesy American Museum of Natural History. 37

V. Huts of Salt Gatherers beside the Dead Sea 52

VI. Pima House and Woman with load in Arizona. Courtesy Amer-
ican Museum of Natural History S3

VII. Hauling Logs over the snow in the Province of Quebec. Courtesy

American Museum of Natural History 68

VIII. An Indian Burial at Wrangell, Alaska. Courtesy American

Museum of Natural History 69

IX. A Yard in Alaska. Feeding a two-year-old and a yearling deer

at Wrangell. Courtesy American Museum of Natural History. 84
X. Sheep raising on the Coconino National Forest in Arizona.

Courtesy U. S. Dept of Agriculture 85

XI. Gathering Dyewood in Brazil. Keystone View Co., Inc. of

N. Y 100

XII. Official, and Pygmy assistants, inspecting a native village in the

Baining District of New Guinea. Courtesy Asia Magazine. . . 101

XIII. Jain Temple at Calcutta, India. Courtesy American Museum of

Natural History 116

XIV. Rice Fields in Ceylon 117

XV. Ruins of Quirigua in a Forest close to a great Banana Plantation 132

XVI. Drying Coffee on a plantation in Java 133

XVII* An Energetic Family of Children on a fruit farm in the United

States. (Making cider.) 136

XII ILLUSTRATIONS

PLATE PAGE

XVIII. Anaemic Indian Coolie trying to sleep and at the same time cool

Ms British Rulers by working a punka 144

XIX. The Cedars of Lebanon 148

XX. Temple of Isis at Petra 164

XXI. Market Scene in the Far West of China 196

XXII. Rice Harvest in Japan. Courtesy Asia Magazine 197

XXIII. Harbor of Malta in the Zone of Compression south of Europe. 212

XXIV. Russian Post Station in the Zone of Compression east of Europe. 213
XXV. Cooking Place in the Pueblo Village of Zuni 232

XXVI. New Settlers on their way to occupy the West. . 240

LINE ILLUSTRATIONS

FIG.

1. "Worldwide Distribution of Civilization." From "Business Geog-

raphy." Courtesy of John Wiley and Sons . 139

2. "Worldwide Distribution of Climatic Energy." From "Business

Geography." Courtesy of John Wiley and Sons. . 145

3. "Distribution of Climatic Energy in Europe." From a Business

Geography." Courtesy of John Wiley and Sons 217

4. <e Distribution of Health in Europe (Based on the death rate.) From

" Business Geography." Courtesy of John Wiley and Sons. . . 218

5. " Distribution of Civilization in Europe." From " Business Geog-

raphy." Courtesy of John Wiley and Sons 219

6. " Distribution of Climatic Energy in the United States." From " Busi-

ness Geography." Courtesy of John Wiley and Sons 227

7. " Distribution of Progress in the United States per Expert Opinion."

From " Business Geography." Courtesy of John Wiley and Sons. 228

8. " Distribution of Progress in the United States per Census Statistics."

From " An Introduction to Sociology." Courtesy of D. C. Heath
and Co 228

THE HUMAN HABITAT

CHAPTER I

THE TERRESTRIAL CANVAS

THE surface of the earth may be likened to a huge canvas
upon which a great artist paints with many colors. The re-
sultant picture embodies all the facts of geography, including
human geography with which this book is concerned. The
foundation of the artist's color-scheme is the contrast between
land and sea. A few hundred thousand people may be able
to live in boats upon the surface of the sea in the quiet Chinese
waters of the West River at Canton, or at the station where
oil is trans-shipped to river steamers off the mouth of the
Volga. As time goes on, more and more people will doubtless
float on shallow and protected coastal waters and cultivate
oysters, clams, lobsters and many other types of sea food as
assiduously as they now cultivate the lands. But that will al-
most inevitably be limited to a very narrow area closely fring-
ing the coast. On the main sea itself, it is not likely that peo-
ple will ever live permanently, except as they are engaged in
transportation, or in fishing to supply food for their fellow men
on the land. So, on the artist's canvas, the great foundation
pigments of land and sea will stand through the milleniums as
the most permanent and noteworthy of all the features in the
great picture of human geography.

Having laid the foundations of the picture, the artist turns
to other types of color which can be washed over the enduring
tints of land and sea without effacing them. His second set of

2 THE HUMAN HABITAT

colors is furnished by climate. With these, around each pole,
he paints broad disks of uninhabitable territory sheathed with
bluish-white ice and snow in Greenland and Antarctica, or
sparsely covered with the grassy, mossy, brownish-green vege-
tation of the tundras. Next comes a belt of cold country with
long snowy winters and moist summers plentifully supplied
with rain. It is too cool for agriculture, but well adapted to
dark-green coniferous forests which dominate the landscape far
and wide. Another sweep of the brush, and the artist has
painted what we may call the band of cyclonic storms the
best part of the world from the standpoint of human progress.
It includes southern Canada, the northern United States, and
the most progressive parts of Europe. It swings on into Rus-
sia, is almost lost in Siberia, but revives in Japan. Here cy-
clonic storms bring rain at all seasons; conifers still persist,
but broad-leaved deciduous trees obtain the mastery; the sum-
mers are long enough for agriculture; the winters are not long
enough to be seriously depressing; and the climate is highly
invigorating.

As the painter reaches middle latitudes and passes on to
warmer regions, he seems inclined to make a separation be-
tween the green lands of the cyclonic belt and those lying near
the equator. So he begins to paint a band of yellowish and
reddish deserts. Starting at the west coast of each continent
in latitudes 20 to 35, he gives a stroke from west to east.
Except in North Africa, however, he lifts his hand before the
eastern coast is reached. Then dipping Ms brush in a new
color, he completes his eastward stroke with a band of heavy
summer rains which bring luxuriant vegetation, as appears in
what may best be called the monsoon regions of China, the
southeastern United States, and the east coast of central Aus-
tralia.

Green is the painter's favorite color. So once more, around

THE TERRESTRIAL CANVAS 3

the center of the earth and extending fifteen or twenty degrees
on either side, he paints a band of permanent verdure. It is
grassy on the outer borders, away from the equator, but soon
passes into genuine savannah stippled with trees. Then comes
the belt where the green is deepest the great tropical jungle
and equatorial forest.

One of the most interesting features of the climatic colors
is the way in which they change from season to season. The
polar caps, to be sure, retain almost the same bluish-white tint
from January to July. They merely expand, as it were, until
the northern cap covers all the lands half way to the equator.
The tundra belt looks like part of the polar cap much of the
year, but in the late spring it loses its cover of snow and turns
to a brownish hue; then the brown becomes shot through with
green, some parts are genuinely verdant, and brilliant flowers
display a fleeting glory. But the greenness is short-lived as
well as imperfect; early in the fall it begins to turn brown, but
is covered with snow almost immediately. In summer, the
great belt of conifers displays almost no tints except the dark
colors of its pines, spruces, larches and other bearers of cones.
In winter, the dark tints are relieved by patches of white snow,
while in the spring the whole forest is brightened a little by the
fresh green of young shoots. Yet the general effect is always
somber.

Along the line of transition between the coniferous and cy-
clonic zones, the artist has interlaced the deepest somberness
with the greatest play of colors. In summer, in the portions of
middle latitudes where cyclonic storms prevail, broad-leaved
trees combine with conifers and grasses to display almost every
shade of green. In the autumn, the broad-leaved deciduous
trees and bushes flame into red, yellow, purple and brown.
Then a veil of brown and gray is spread over the land, but
through the veil reddish patches of oak leaves and dark green

4 THE HUMAN HABITAT

patches of conifers seem to strive to preserve some color as
long as possible. When winter comes, this variegated zone
discloses a snowy background as white as the great ice-caps,>
save where it is shadowed by the gray lace of bare branches,
or by the dark yet comforting foliage of the conifers. Then
spring arrives once more, the patches of melting snow dis-
appear, and the brownness of the landscape is more noteworthy
than ever. But soon the tender green of young grass is inter-
spersed with infinitely varied shades of red, yellow, purple
and brown, wherewith the budding trees delicately forecast
the brilliant colors which they will don in the final climax of
autumn. Where the change of color is greatest, there the
conditions for human progress are most favorable.

The deserts confirm this last statement, for in their unin-
habitable reddish or yellowish centers, they show no change
from year's end to year's end. On their borders, however, and
in the grassy steppe lands round about where the population is
now merely sparse but where ancient civilizations once flour-
ished, there is an annual change from brown or yellow to green
and back again. The green may be a mere flush lasting but a
few weeks, or a deep mantle lasting two or three months. This
in itself is no more noteworthy than the change from brown
to green anywhere else, but many deserts display another
flash of color which is almost unique. Other regions do in-
deed have brilliant flowers at certain seasons, but nowhere else
is the ground so brilliantly and completely carpeted with a
marvellous pattern of gorgeous and highly varied flowers. Yet
even so, in variability of coloring, the desert borders rank only
a poor second to the belt of cyclonic storms.

East of the deserts the changes of color in the deciduous
woodlands of the monsoon type are only a feeble imitation of
those in the cyclonic woodlands. Snow may whiten the land-
scape in winter, but not for long, and not everywhere at the

THE TERRESTRIAL CANVAS 5

same time; the landscape may tend to be brown In the autumn
and In the winter when there Is no snow, but the brownness Is
broken by great numbers of trees and other plants that remain
green all the year. In the same way, the spring may see lovely
tints of pale green and even of red and yellow, together with
flowering trees and shrubs which are even brighter than those
of the cyclonic belt, but the general display of tender colors Is
nothing like so varied and prolonged. In summer, to be sure,
the greenness is about like that of the other deciduous belt, but
the dull browns and yellows of autumn are only a faint re-
minder of the gorgeous colors farther north where frost arrives
while the leaves are still vigorous. Yet this belt this Incom-
plete stroke of the artist's brush, stands third In the variety of
Its colors.

Farther toward the equator, the savannah belt Is either green
In the wet season, or brown In the dry season, with green spots
where clumps of trees still hold their foliage. Then comes the
broad band of equatorial jungle and forest, where the only
change is from a slightly brighter to a slightly darker shade of
green. At some seasons the greenness Is broken here and there
by the bare branches of trees that have shed their leaves, by the
tender reddish young foliage which replaces that which is a
year or so old, or by gorgeous flowers which sometimes deck
even the barest trees with marvellous patches of red, yellow,
purple, orange or blue. Yet the prevailing effect is unmistak-
ably green at all seasons. The colors In the tropical belt are
not so monotonous as those of the Ice-caps and the centers
of the deserts, but they are monotonous enough to be depress-
ing.

As It Is with the changes of color from season to season, so
It Is with the changes from one climatic cycle to another. In
the polar regions the coming of glacial and Interglacial epochs
makes relatively little difference. Even if the ice-caps dis-

6 THE HUMAN HABITAT

appear during inter-glacial epochs, snow still covers the ground
most of the time, while the coming of a glacial epoch merely
means that the present conditions are a little more extreme.
But in the cyclonic belt, in such places as the northern United
States, southern Canada, and northwestern Europe, the coming
of glaciation means a change from conditions at least as mild
as those of today to the severity of an ice sheet as vast as that
which now shrouds Antarctica. It means all the difference
between the best that the world now knows from the standpoint
of human health and activity, and conditions so severe that
aside, perhaps, from certain lowly bacteria, no life can pos-
sibly survive. The centers of the great deserts likewise change
only a little with the coming of glacial epochs. The amount of
moisture does indeed increase somewhat, but not enough to
prevent them from still being very dry. In broad strips on the
desert borders, however, and in the smaller, less arid deserts,
the change is vast. It means the difference between supplies of
moisture so abundant that vegetation can thrive for a long-
season each year, and supplies so scanty and variable that in
many years the grass makes almost no growth. Farther toward
the equator the change from a glacial to an interglacial epoch
once more becomes insignificant. The warm moist regions of
the earth appear to remain relatively warm and moist no mat-
ter what happens elsewhere.

As it was with the great changes of glacial periods, so it has
been with the similar but smaller climatic pulsations during the
course of history. Whether we deal with the seasons of a single
year or with great climatic cycles of tens of thousands of years,
the principle is the same. Where the artist has painted the
climatic colors most firmly and unchangeably, there civilization
is low; where he has painted them in such a way that they
shimmer and change, glow brightly and then fade, there civil-
ization rises highest. The civilizations of today are located

THE TERRESTRIAL CANVAS 7

where the changes are greatest of all; the civilizations of the
past were located where the changes rank next in variety.

Having sketched his main background by means of the un-
changing lands and seas and the varying tints of climate and
season, the artist turns his attention to a wholly different set
of colors, those depicting the heights and depths of the lands,
and the waters that flow upon the surface. The greater features
of the relief of the lands take the form of great plains, moun-
tains and plateaus. They are painted in shades almost as bold
and sweeping as those of climate, but the minor features, such
as valleys, streams, and the minuter hills and hollows, are so
small that their infinite details can be included only with the
greatest difficulty. The plains and lowlands are by far the
most important features in this phase of the picture. Not only
are they the most extensive parts of the earth's surface, but
they are the places where plants, animals, and especially people,
thrive in greatest abundance. So the lowland color is brushed
over vast areas, but always in such a way that it never obscures
the main climatic pattern. It assumes a sort of symmetry from
continent to continent, with the main lowlands on the side
toward the narrower ocean, which is the Arctic in Europe and
Asia, the Atlantic in the two Americas and Africa, and the In-
dian Ocean in Australia. Mountain systems may partially
separate the main plains from the narrower oceans, but they are
small compared with the huge ranges and vast plateaus which
rear themselves on the side toward the broader oceans.

The mountain systems and plateaus have their own special
tints on the great terrestrial canvas, but these tints are so
mixed with those due to climate that the two sets are almost
inextricable. At the equator the colors indicating relief are
mixed with climatic colors ranging through all the zones from
the belt of tropical verdure to that of polar ice. Nevertheless,
on the mountains, as on the continents, there are certain dis-

8 THE HUMAN HABITAT

tinct limitations as to what colors shall be used. Just as the
painter fails to make a complete band of desert clear across
each mass of land, so he fails to paint deserts on all sides of a
mountain range, unless perchance the mountains happen to rise
from the very midst of a desert On many mountain ranges,
as on the continents, one side is dry, the other moist.

Rarely or never is it the habit of the artist to paint a single
mountain range standing alone. His favorite scheme is to
make the mountains serve as buttresses to broad plateaus.
Each of these great up-archings of the lands is usually bordered
by two or three parallel ridges on each side, like waves breaking
from either direction against a central mass. Ordinarily each
set of waves numbers two or three, increasing in height toward
the interior of the plateau. Thus in California we have first
the Coast Range, then the much higher Sierra Nevadas, and
next the broad plateau which extends as far as the Rocky
Mountains. There another series of parallel ranges raises it-
self before the land plunges off steeply to the east. In Asia
it is the same way. The little Siwalik Range lies at the foot
of the Himalayas; the Himalayas themselves comprise no less
than three parallel ranges, culminating in the great trans-
Himalaya. Then comes the huge plateau of Tibet, and beyond
that the ranges of Kuen Lun and Altyn Tagh.

Now for a finer brush with which to depict the minor details
of topography the almost invisible swell of the prairie, the
little hills and hollows of the lowland, the irregular pits and
ridges of glacial moraines, the deeper, bolder valleys of the
highlands, and the crags, cliffs and peaks of the lofty moun-
tains. The finest brush of all is needed to trace the marvellous
network of the waters the lakes and ponds, the rivers, brooks
and rivulets all over the broad lands.

The combination of oceans and lands, climate and relief,
and waters on the face of the lands, assuredly gives sufficient

THE TERRESTRIAL CANVAS 9

complexity, but there are still other ways of varying the land-
scape. One way is through the character of the soil. As soon
as the brush is lifted for this purpose it becomes evident that
three chief ingredients must be used in mixing the colors. The
first depends upon the character of the underlying rocks, the
second upon the relief of the land, and the third upon climate.
Where the rocks are composed of quartzite or quartzose gran-
ites, the soil necessarily contains a large percentage of quartz
grains and is correspondingly sandy and infertile. Where the
rock consists of basic igneous rocks, and especially of fresh,
dark, volcanic, eruptive materials, the presence of abundant
iron, lime, magnesia, potassium, and sodium assures the pres-
ence of a highly fertile soil, provided the climate and relief do
not spoil it.

Most of the soils of the earth do not overlie the rocks from
which they were originally formed; they have been transported
anywhere from a few feet to a few thousand miles, and have
been mixed with other soils. If they lie where the slopes are
steep, only the coarse materials are likely to remain, but on the
gentler slopes the transported soils become more and more
fine-grained until the finest clays prevail. Such soils, in regions
like the Mississippi flood plain, or the still greater plains along
the Chinese rivers, are sure to have been derived from such
diverse sources that they contain all the necessary ingredients
for the growth of vegetation. They are olten water-logged, to
be sure, so that the air does not get a chance to penetrate them,
and the right kind of decay does not take place, but man can
often remedy such defects. Some of the best soils are those
which lie in the older parts of alluvial flood plains, near the
rivers perhaps, but high enough above the water courses so that
they are not water-logged and the air can penetrate them freely.
Even the minor differences in elevation or slope often make an
enormous difference in the chemical quality of the soil, as well

10 THE HUMAN HABITAT

as in its texture. For that reason, almost no other factor of
geographical environment, unless it be relief itself, gives rise
to such marked local differences in vegetation and in human

life.

In discussing these minute differences in the soil which arise
by reason of the underlying rocks and the topography, we have
overlooked certain broad general differences which follow the
climatic pattern. Where the climate is very cold, and in large
parts of the huge areas where glaciation occurred during recent
geological times, the soil is poor because it is too fresh; it may
be broken into fine grains by frost or by the grinding power of
moving Ice, but decomposition Is slow. There is, to be sure,
plenty of moisture, but in the colder areas the low temperature
causes the vegetation to be so scanty and to decay so slowly
that the ground water is almost pure. It does not contain much
carbonic acid and other products of vegetable decay. Yet these
are of the utmost importance in breaking up the soil, and in
freeing the chemical constituents which are needed by the
plants. In addition to all this, weathering can take place only
a few months each year, because the soil Is frozen the rest of
the time. When melting occurs, the water in the soil is practi-
cally always so abundant that the process of leaching takes place
rapidly and whatever materials have been converted Into the
soluble forms which alone are available for plants, tend to be
carried away.

As we leave the coldest regions and proceed toward lower
latitudes, the soil gradually improves. In the areas of the pine
forests, for example, the constant falling of the needle-shaped
leaves provides a certain amount of humus, for the leaves decay
so slowly that they become a part of the soil That gives a sup-
ply of nitrates and other materials which help to make the soil
good for crops. It also provides acids and bases which help
toward the decomposition of further soil Nevertheless, the cold

THE TERRESTRIAL CANVAS II

winters check the decay of the rocks for such long periods and
the abundant water leaches away the soluble materials so
rapidly that the soils are only moderately good. Moreover,
the processes of soil formation In cool regions are so slow that
in large parts of Canada and Scandinavia where glaciation oc-
curred recently, there has not yet been time to produce more
than the most scanty results.

Even among the deciduous forests of somewhat lower lati-
tudes, similar conditions prevail, although not to so great a
degree. Thus the deficiencies just described are more or less
in evidence in practically all of Canada, except the southern
prairie portion which lies westward and northwestward from
Winnipeg to the Rocky Mountains. The same is true in the
northern United States from northeastern Minnesota and Wis-
consin eastward through Michigan to New York and New Eng-
land, and in most of northern and central Europe as far south
as the Alps and the northern borders of the Black Earth region
of Russia. Siberia, too, suffers severely from the fact that slow
weathering and rapid leaching give rise to millions of square
miles of poor, infertile soil.

The best soils of the world's forested regions, provided we
ignore for the moment the local differences due to the character
of the rocks, are found in the broad-leaved forests of a central
zone in middle latitudes including regions like Virginia, Ken-
tucky, Tennessee, and central France. Farther toward the
equator, the soils again deteriorate. The increasing length of
the warm period not merely stimulates the growth of vegeta-
tion and thereby imposes a greater drain upon the soil, but
causes the vegetation to decay very rapidly. In the warmest,
moistest regions, this decay takes place so speedily that practi-
cally none of the vegetable material remains in the soil, and no
fertilizing humus is added. At the same time, rapid decay
provides abundant chemicals for the soil water so that particles

12 THE HUMAN HABITAT

of rock are rapidly decomposed. Then the abundant rains
leach out the plant food. Since these processes go on at all
seasons, the soils become very poor indeed. The red material
known as tropical laterite is one of the poorest soils in the
world. It does indeed support abundant tropical vegetation,
but for the majority of crops it is almost as poor as ordinary
sand.

The best of the world's soils have remained almost unused
until our own day. Some of them are found in the grassy
plains of middle latitudes, but the best of all occur in deserts.
In very dry regions the scarcity of water retards the decomposi-
tion of the soil and in that respect limits the supply of plant
food. Nevertheless, when moisture is present, as it is from
time to time, the temperature is often high enough so that the
rocks are decomposed rapidly. But even if soluble products
are thus formed in large amounts, they are not easily removed.
In the first place, there is little vegetation to rob the soil of its
wealth, and convert it into forms which can be dissipated
through bacterial decay. In the second place, what little vege-
tation there is does not decay so rapidly or completely as in
warm moist regions, and some of it remains to improve the
soil. The most decisive feature, however, is that there is not
rain enough to leach the soil. When the infrequent rains come,
they do indeed dissolve some of the soluble materials, but the
water thus enriched generally evaporates close to where it fell.
Therefore the soil is not robbed of its plant food and the desert
soils grow richer and richer. That is why the irrigated lands
in the United States produce crops worth from 25 to 65 per
cent more per acre than do the other soils. The best soils of
all the world today are probably found in the vast desert areas,
including both the yellowish or grayish border zones and the
huge tracts of very fine-grained, reddish sand which form the
central parts of the world's greatest deserts. If water could

THE TERRESTRIAL CANVAS 13

be led to them, It seems as if the world's food supply might
easily be doubled or trebled.

Between the deserts and the forested areas in middle lati-
tudes lie highly favored grasslands whose soils partake more or
less of the desert quality. If they happen to be plains, as in
the prairies of the United States and Argentine and the Black
Earth region of Russia, the combined effect of relief, climate,
and vegetation makes them almost as good as the desert soils so
far as undissolved plant foods are concerned. The rains in
such regions are not so abundant as in the forested regions, or
at least they are not so evenly distributed through the year,
which is the main reason why the vegetation consists of grass
Instead of forests. The grassy vegetation dies down each year
and forms abundant humus, but does not completely decay be-
fore it becomes part of the soil. The gentle topography pre-
vents the water from running off with great rapidity, but yet al-
lows it to drain away so that the air has a chance to aerate the
soil. The result is the production of black or dark soils which
have been relatively little leached, and are full of nitrates,
lime, potash, and phosphates, which are the main necessities
for plants aside from water and the oxygen and carbon dioxide
found in the air. Such soils may not be quite so rich as those
of deserts, but they more than compensate for this by occurring
in places where there is enough rain for agriculture. There-
fore such regions as the prairie plains of the United States and
Argentina, and the Black Earth region of southern Russia are
among the best parts of the earth from the point of view of
agriculture.

Thus we see that in the great canvas depicting the earth
as the home of man, the painter adds to his other colors the
poor soils of cold regions, then better and better soils in the
well-watered forested areas until the region of broad-leaved
forests is reached in central latitudes. Then the soils deteri-

14 THE HUMAN HABITAT

orate until the red equatorial laterites are about as poor as can
be found anywhere. In both polar and equatorial regions the
climate tends to produce poor soils all the way around the
earth. In middle latitudes., however, there is a pronounced
change as one goes from east to west. On the east side of each
main land mass, in approximately thirty to forty degrees of
latitude, or as far north as the borders of the ancient ice sheets,
one finds in the broad-leaved forest areas the best of the humus
types formed 'in the forest. Farther west, and at slightly
higher latitudes, come the extremely fertile black prairie soils.
The best of all soils, on an average, are found still nearer to
the western side of each land mass, in the deserts which mainly
lie in latitudes twenty to forty degrees.

This broad climatic generalization these sweeping strokes
of the artist's brush must not make us forget that the soil
preeminently lends itself to local variations. A spot of fertility
is found in almost any climate where fresh volcanic ash of a
basaltic nature occurs; a spot of barrenness, almost a desert,
occurs in even the best of climates, where coarse, well-washed
gravel or a soil made of pure quartzite prevails.

The final stage in our geographical picture, although it
happens to be an early stage geologically, is the segregation of
minerals. The metals occur in tiny areas here and there, espe-
cially among the drier mountains. Coal is found in great
sheets, chiefly in middle latitudes but with a good deal in
high latitudes. That which occurs in latitudes below forty
degrees is not only scanty, but mostly of poor quality. Petro-
leum seems to have no definite rules of occurrence, although
the greatest supplies thus far have been found mainly in lati-
tudes not much higher than forty degrees or lower than fifteen.
Useful stones such as limestone, granite and slate, together with
materials like brick clay, sand and gravel, are more widely
distributed than any other usable minerals. But all minerals

THE TERRESTRIAL CANVAS 15

are alike in one respect; they are not limited to any one zone
of climate, they may occur under widely diverse kinds of re-
lief, and they take the form of small isolated and often highly
vivid spots which almost blot out all the other colors upon the
great canvas of human geography.

We have traced the way in which one color after another
is brushed into the picture of human geography, but have not
yet brought man into the scene. We have proceeded from the
larger to the smaller features, from those which determine the
broadest aspects of the distribution of man and his habits to
those which determine the minor and more local aspects. The
most basic colors are those which portray the contrast between
land and sea, but those of climate are the ones that most de-
mand study. This is not merely because they form the largest,
most uninterrupted areas, the fundamental outlines of the
picture aside from those of land and sea. It is also because
climate is the most variable of all the factors of geographical
environment. It varies from place to place, from season to sea-
son, from year to year, and from one decade, century or mil-
lenium to another. It is always varying.

But climate does far more than this. As cause or effect, it
enters intimately into the colors representing the soil and the
relief of the earth's surface. It is one of the main agents in
determining the quality of the soil; a large share of the effect
of the relief of the earth's surface is due to differences in tem-
perature and rainfall which the altitude and form of the lands
themselves engender. Another reason for the overwhelming
importance of climate is that it alone among the great inani-
mate features of human environment produces direct physio-
logical effects upon mankind as well as indirect effects of other
kinds. The direct effects include not only those of storms,
tornadoes, fogs, high winds, floods, snow and all the external
helps and hindrances due to any and every kind of weather,

1 6 THE HUMAN HABITAT

but the internal effect of the weather In making people fee!
energetic at some times and in some regions, and inert at other
times and in other regions. The greatest of the indirect effects
arise through plants and animals. Practically no soil is so
poor or thin, no cliff so steep, that it will not support some vege-
tation if the climate is right; and wherever there is vegetation,
some form of animal life is found. But no soil, however rich
and deep, and no relief, however gentle, will cause vegetation
to grow on an ice sheet, or in an utterly waterless desert. An-
other indirect effect of climate arises through bacterial diseases.
Some of these flourish in one climate and some in another.
Certain climates such as those of the coldest ice sheets, are
largely free from bacteria, whereas the warmest, moistest cli-
mates are full of highly deadly types. Thus through its direct
effects, especially, upon man's movements and energy, and
through its indirect effects on soil, vegetation and animals,
and on man's occupations, food, clothing, shelter, health and
tools, climate becomes the most potent of all purely physical
influences in determining what kinds of human activities and
habits shall prevail in one region or another.

It is not surprising, then, that the climatic colors stand out
more prominently than any others when the canvas of human
geography is viewed from a distance. Nevertheless as one
comes nearer, the climatic colors often grow faint and indis-
tinct. Those which depict the soil, the relief of the lands, the
bodies of water, and the minerals, often stand out so clearly
that they seem to be of dominant importance. The near view
differs so greatly from the more general view that many people
have supposed that the two are in conflict. There have been
arguments as to whether soil, climate, relief, or position in re-
spect to bodies of water is the most important feature of geo-
graphic environment. Such arguments are not necessary; all
the elements combine to form a harmonious whole; each color

THE TERRESTRIAL CANVAS 17

is important, and each is prominent according to whether we
view the picture as a whole or in detail.

Such is the background upon which nature has placed her
living beings. For better or worse the decrees of nature insist
on a close adjustment between life and its inorganic environ-
ment. That is why plants are universally recognized as one of
the best evidences of the conditions of climate, relief and soil.
A given kind of plant may indeed migrate over large parts of
the earth's surface, but if it migrates from one type of climate
to another, or one type of soil to another, it is almost certain
to change its characteristics. Animals, in turn, depend very
closely upon the type of vegetation, as well as upon the more
direct effects of the environment. Running animals, like the
antelope, are not at all adapted to wet, marshy regions or river
beds such as the hippopotamus enjoys. The water buffalo,
with its almost hairless skin and its fondness for submerging
itself in mud and water, and the musk ox with its thick coat of
wool and hair, would promptly die if their habitats were inter-
changed. Animals, far more than plants, may migrate from
region to region, but unless some change occurs in them through
mutation or through the processes of natural selection, they
cannot go beyond certain definite limits imposed by climate,
soil, relief and the resultant types of vegetation. The same is
true of man, except that he is less limited than animals, just as
animals are less limited than plants. Yet even man is limited.
Let any type of human beings be divided into groups which live
for some generations in diverse geographic environments, and
the groups will tend to diverge in such fashion as to become
adapted to the various environments, and to the occupations
which are profitable in those environments. Conversely, if we
find any peculiar condition of human physique, activity or
character localized in a special place, the chances are that the
physical environment has had something to do with its pres-

1 8 THE HUMAN HABITAT

ence. It is conceivable, to l be sure, that the present geographic
environment may have little or nothing to do with the matter,
but the more carefully the history of any human condition is
traced, the more probable it becomes that its localization in
some special part of the earth is due in considerable measure
to the complex and often indirect influence of many geographi-
cal conditions, acting partly at present but still more in the
past.

CHAPTER II

WHERE PEOPLE DWELL

THE central theme of geography is the distribution of man,
and of his activities, habits and characteristics, in relation to
the environment described in the preceding chapter. The first
step in understanding the matter is to comprehend why people
are numerous in some places and scarce in others. Consider
how enormously the density of population varies from place
to place. Massachusetts and Rhode Island are almost a thou-
sand times as thickly populated as Nevada, and about thirty
thousand times as thickly as the Yukon territory of Canada.
England and Belgium have seven hundred people per square
mile, but Iceland only two. The Nile Valley, with eleven hun-
dred people for every square mile, touches the Egyptian desert
where there is scarcely one person in three thousand times as
much territory.

Why do such differences occur? It is easy to answer that
Nevada and the Egyptian desert are dry, while the Yukon ter-
ritory and Iceland are cold. But how about New Guinea?
That East Indian island lies almost next door to Java and has a
similar equatorial climate with abundant rain, but New Guinea
has only three people for every square mile while Java has
seven hundred.

Consider the matter from your own personal standpoint.
Are you one of a hundred thousand people packed into the
apartment houses of a single square mile in a city? Do you
live in a suburb where there are about a thousand people for
every square mile? Or do you live in some remote place where

19

20 THE HUMAN HABITAT

the average family is separated from Its neighbors by two or
three miles? Whatever may be the density of the population,
it obviously has an almost incalculable effect upon you. The
person in a huge apartment house in a city, the dweller in the
suburbs, and the one who lives miles from neighbors cannot
possibly live the same life, or think the same thoughts. They
are likely to differ radically in the amount that they travel, the
food they eat, the clothes they wear, the kind of houses they live
in, the means of transportation they employ, the recreations
they enjoy, the kind and amount of schooling that they get, the
degree of choice that they have in finding husbands or wives,
and a hundred other things. Try to picture your own life if
the region around you should suddenly become a hundred times
as populous as now, or if ninety-nine out of every hundred peo-
ple should move away.

Each stage of civilization has its own special conditions as to
the distribution of population. In the lowest stages the people
are always sparsely scattered. In a somewhat higher stage they
are not so thinly scattered, and begin to have villages. Then
comes a stage where the population is fairly dense, but the
towns are still relatively insignificant. Finally, whenever civili-
zation rises to high levels, the population tends to be concen-
trated in cities. This may be dangerous, because cities are the
destroyers as well as the upbuilders of civilization, but it has
happened again and again.

One of the most fundamental facts about the distribution of
population, and one which many people fail to realize, is that
by far the larger part of the earth's surface supports about as
many people as it can under the prevailing types of culture and
standards of living. Even in a relatively new land like the
United States, the population cannot long increase at the present
rate unless we devise new methods of obtaining food and raw
materials, or adopt lower standards of living. As a matter of

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WHERE PEOPLE DWELL 21

fact, both things are actually happening. Parallel with our
many inventions and discoveries, there has been for two or
three generations a growing tendency for the great masses of
the poorer people who swarm in the factory cities to adopt a
standard of living lower than that of corresponding people at an
earlier date. One example of this is the reduction in the aver-
age consumption of meat. In 1907, according to Mr. John
Roberts of the United States Department of Agriculture, we
consumed an average of 159 pounds of meat per person, in
1926 only 143 pounds. During the six years from 1907 to
1912 the consumption was 149 pounds, during the six from
192 1 to 1926 only 143. The use of expensive beef has declined
still more, from 71 pounds in the first period to 61 in the sec-
ond, but the use of cheap pork has risen from 64 pounds to 69.
The change in the use of meat Is often supposed to represent a
swing toward a more healthful vegetarian diet, but the main
reason for it is that the human population is increasing faster
than the domestic animals. Hence the price of meat has risen
with special rapidity and the poorer people are compelled to
eat less meat and poorer kinds than formerly. In this respect
at least, the standard of living has fallen. The country as a
whole may be growing richer, but in the long run there is a
decided tendency toward the growth of large groups of labor-
ing people, miners and farmers, whose standards of living aver-
age lower than did those of the same classes a few generations
ago. It seems to be almost inevitable that ultimately there
should come to us, as to others, a time when the population in-
creases faster than the means of subsistence.

Another point which few people fully appreciate is that at
every stage of human culture, and in every type of geographi-
cal environment, a certain definite density of population repre-
sents the " 'optimum," or most favorable condition. Take, for
example, pastoral nomads like the Hottentots, Arabs, or Burlats

22 THE HUMAN HABITAT

of Siberia. Suppose that there Is only one family for every
hundred square miles, although there is grass enough to sup-
port flocks and herds for several times as many. On an aver-
age each group of five or ten families will be twenty to forty
miles from neighbors. If the animals wander ? what chance
has a man to find help or hospitality? If an enemy should
penetrate so far 3 who will assist the tents which are raided?
Since large areas are not needed for the flocks and herds, wild
beasts will multiply, and the young of the domestic animals
will be in constant danger. If the population increases ten-
fold, on the contrary, there may not be grass enough unless the
average herd becomes so small that it will barely support a
family. When bad seasons occur such conditions are almost
certain to breed distress, strife and war. Somewhere between
these two densities lies the optimum the condition where
each man can have a large herd, but where the camps are near
enough to be of mutual assistance, yet not near enough to
cramp one another's supply of grass in dry seasons.

In our own type of civilization the optimum is equally clear.
If the farmers are too far apart they cannot afford to build
good roads; they cannot easily market their produce, attend
the Grange meetings and church, send their children to school,
or get the mail or the doctor. If the farmers are too numerous,
they will not have land enough to yield a reasonable living,
If people are too closely packed in cities, intense poverty, labor
troubles, and other bad social conditions will prevail ; the birth
rate will fall and the death rate rise so that many of the more
valuable types of people will actually die out from generation
to generation. The optimum obviously lies somewhere between
the sparsely settled farms and the crowded cities.

The area of the earth is estimated at 57,255,000 square
miles. Almost exactly half of that vast area has less than one
inhabitant per square mile, and probably does not contain

WHERE PEOPLE DWELL 23

much more than ten million inhabitants. Think what that
means half of all the lands have no more inhabitants than
New York and London put together. The ten million people
who live in the central parts of those cities, that is, in New
York's boroughs of Manhattan, Bronx and Brooklyn, and in
the " registration area " of London, occupy only two hundred
and fifty square miles; the ten million who live in the sparsely
populated half of the world have about 22,500,000 square
miles of space, even if we omit the ice sheets of Antarctica and
Greenland. Forty thousand persons per square mile against
less than half a person! A twelfth of an acre per family
against more than seven thousand acres! Is it any wonder
that the modes of life and thought are utterly different?

Although many conditions cooperate in causing half of the
earth's surface to have less than one inhabitant per square
mile, the main reason is climate, as might be expected from our
survey of the great picture of human geography. This is evi-
dent when the regions of this kind are classified climatically,
as in the following table:

APPROXIMATE NUMBER OF SQUARE MILES WITH LESS THAN ONE PERSON
PER SQUARE

Too Cold for Agriculture

B. Because

C. Because

D. Too

of high Lat-

of Alti-

warm

itude

tude

and wet

Total

2,000,000

1,220,000

7,I50,OOO

4,640,000

40,000

20,000

5,300,000

50,000

150,000

5,20O,OOO

5,000,000

5,000,000

220,000

I20,OOO

2,320,000

3,130,000

2,020,000

2OO,OOO

8o,OOO

360,000

240,000

240,000

A. Too Dry
for Agricul"
Continent ture

Asia 3>930,ooo

North America 600,000

Africa 5,000,000

Antarctica

South America 470,000

Australasia 2,020,000

Europe 80,000

East Indies

Total 12,100,000. .12,060,000. , .1,510,000. . .2,730,000. .28,400,000

1 Based on the Chambers of Commerce Atlas (Putnam's). Greenland is
included with North America; Iceland with Europe. The distinction between

24 THE HUMAN HABITAT

The regions that are too dry for agriculture comprise more
than one-fifth of all the earth's land surface. Each continent
except Antarctica contains some such regions, although the
European region northwest of the Caspian Sea is very small.
Africa alone has two dry areas quite unconnected, one of huge
size in the north and east, and the other less than a tenth as
large in the south. The areas that are too cold for agriculture
are even more extensive, for they include not only high lati-
tudes, like the northern parts of North America and Asia, but
high altitudes like those of Tibet. The areas that are too warm
and wet are much smaller and naturally lie close to the equator.
They are the regions where the so-called equatorial rain-forest
flourishes. Asia, surprising as it may seem, has no warm wet
area where the population sinks to the very lowest levels, and
of course nothing of the kind would be expected in Antarctica
and Europe. Even Africa has only a little, whereas the East
Indian islands of New Guinea and Borneo have somewhat
more. The really great developments of the sparsely popu-
lated warm wet tropical regions is found in South America in
the vast Amazon Plain. There population rises above one per
square mile only along the main rivers. One of the world's
major questions is whether the climatic handicaps will ever
be overcome so that all these regions, and especially the wet
tropics, will become the homes of a moderately dense and really
comfortable population.

Contrast these sparsely populated areas with the most densely
populated parts of the earth those where the inhabitants
number more than 128 per square mile. The main areas of

regions that are too cold because of high latitude and those that are too cold
because of altitude is rather vague, for areas like the Canadian Rockies, the
southern Andes, and the Stanovoi Mountains of Asia might go in either group.
As a matter of fact all of these are placed among the regions that are cold be-
cause of high latitude, but this makes no practical difference so far as the con-
clusions of this book are concerned.

WHERE PEOPLE DWELL 25

this kind also occur in distinct types of climate. They are lo-
cated either in warm, moist regions where sugar and rice are
raised, or in temperate lands where cyclonic storms prevail at
all seasons. In the rice and sugar lands food is extremely
abundant; in the cyclonic lands human energy is at a maxi-
mum. The rice and sugar type of country is by far the more
populous. In Asia and the Far East it includes much of India
except the central highland, western desert and high moun-
tains; it also includes part of the plains of Burma, Siam, and
Indo-China, as well as Java, the northern Philippines, most of
China except the high mountains and arid interior, the best
parts of Chosen, and practically all of Japan. The rice regions
support approximately seven hundred million people in about
two and a quarter million square miles one person for every
two acres compared with one for every twelve hundred or more
in the sparsely settled half of the world. Although Africa and
South America contain large areas which are climatically similar
to the Far East and India, they have only a few small and
scattered spots of dense population. The explanation of this,
as we shall see later, seems to lie largely, although not wholly,
in the absence of rice.

The type of country where dense population is associated
with cyclonic storms and a very high degree of human energy
is divided into two main sections. The chief of these lies in
western and central Europe, including most of Great Britain,
and all the region from the Baltic Sea to northern Portugal
and southern Italy. It extends eastward through Poland into
Ukraine and also into Rumania and Bulgaria. In North
America a similar area extends from southern New England
southward to Baltimore and westward along the Great Lakes to
Chicago. If we include a few other little scraps of similar type,
the total area where a dense population seems to arise by rea-
son of the cyclonic type of climate and the great activity of the

26 THE HUMAN HABITAT

people scarcely amounts to more than 1,650,000 square miles
with a population of approximately 370,000,000.

The amazing fact about all this is that even when the rice
regions and the cyclonic regions are combined, the total area
Is only about four million square miles, while the population
is one billion, one hundred million. In other words, nearly
two-thirds of the people of the earth are crowded into seven
per cent of the lands. Evidently mankind is very partial to
certain limited kinds of environments.

We have said that climate is the main reason why such vast
areas are almost uninhabited, but does not poor soil often
produce the same result? That is certainly the case locally, as
in some of the sandy, gravelly parts of Maine, but soil, apart
from rainfall, temperature, relief, and the like never limits the
population of large areas to any such low figure as one person
per square mile. The soil of large parts of Germany is very
poor, as is that of Czechoslovakia and Denmark; yet a popu-
lation of more than a hundred per square mile is common. In
Denmark, outside the cities of over twenty thousand people,
the population numbers more than one hundred and thirty
per square mile. Vermont, New Hampshire, Scotland and a
long list of other regions furnish abundant similar examples.
In these regions very poor soil, even when coupled with unfavor-
able topography and a climate much too cool for the best agri-
culture, does not reduce the density of population even of
the rural population to less than seven or eight per square
mile as in Vermont. No matter how poor the soil, the right kind
of people and the right kind of climate can make it yield fairly
large crops and support a fairly dense population. Artificial
waterways, artificial topography, and artificial climate are far
more difficult to create than is a rich soil. Look at Florida, with
its sands; the soil in many sections is extremely poor, but fer-
tilizers, energy and brains make it highly productive. In fact,

WHERE PEOPLE DWELL 27

they often make the naturally poor soil more valuable than that
which is naturally good.

Although poor soil is locally responsible for relative sparsity
of population, it is doubtful whether it plays any large part in
determining the location of the world's main areas of sparse
population, except perhaps in the tropics. It certainly has little
to do with the sparsity of people in the twelve million square
miles that are too dry for agriculture. There by far the greater
part of the soil is of the richest and most desirable types.
Water, not richer soil, is the great need. In the thirteen and a
half million square miles where we have ascribed the sparsity
of population to low temperature, the opposite condition pre-
vails, for most of the soil is undoubtedly poor, but scarcely
worse than that in New England and Norway.

In the most sparsely populated tropical regions the soil is
worst of all. The constant warmth and moisture cause the
rocks to decay rapidly, and the constant rains leach away the
plant foods almost as soon as they become soluble. The cli-
matic conditions also stimulate certain kinds of bacteria which
break down organic compounds so that little or no humus re-
mains in the ground, and the nitrates which are so necessary to
the majority of crops are almost lacking. Yet weeds grow with
such extraordinary vigor that crops are choked and killed;
bacteria are so abundant and virulent that the human inhabi-
tants are terribly weakened by disease. Just how far the spar-
sity of population is due to the poor soil, and how far to weeds
and disease, is not yet clear, but the deficiencies of the soil itself
are mainly the result of the prolonged action of the same cli-
matic conditions whose brief and immediate action hampers
agriculture and promotes disease. Thus even if the soil of the
warm wet regions is the direct agent in causing a sparse popu-
lation, the climate is the great indirect agent.

The relief of the lands ranks with the soil in its effect on the

28 THE HUMAN HABITAT

density of population. Mankind certainly needs level land;
the world's greatest populations are all located in regions of
gentle relief. But does a rugged topography prevent a popula-
tion from becoming dense if other conditions are favorable?
That mountains cause the population to be sparse is scarcely
open to question, but no mountains anywhere in the world re-
duce the population to one or less per square mile unless they
affect the climate. They may make the climate too cold, too
dry, or possibly too wet for agriculture, but if the climate is
favorable, the population is almost certain to be fairly dense
even where the mountains are rugged. Japan is an extremely
mountainous country, but it is likewise densely populated.
Every little valley is tilled, and so are the slopes, except where
they become so steep that the farms cannot cling to them, or so
high that the temperature becomes too low. Java displays sim-
ilar characteristics; there the mountain sides are often terraced
so carefully that the height of the terrace walls is about as great
as the width of the strips that can be cultivated. Syria is one
of the most mountainous countries ; villages cling precariously
to the sides of steep limestone mountains, and often the water-
supply comes from springs at the foot of great limestone cliffs.
In order to bring the water to a bit of tillable land it may be
allowed to drop a hundred feet in a picturesque waterfall onto
a rocky terrace covered with mulberry trees for the silk worms.
Yet Syria has a fairly dense population. Taking the country
as a whole, there are fifty people per square mile, but if we leave
out the mountainous portions that are too cold for agriculture
and the regions farther inland that are too dry, this figure rises
almost twice as high. Our own Kentucky mountains are often
spoken of as highly rugged. Yet the rural population there
amounts to over forty per square mile, which is as much as in
the level state of Iowa. The province of Fukien in South China
is extremely rugged, with mountains rising sheer from the sea
all along the coast. But all save the steepest slopes are culti-

WHERE PEOPLE DWELL 29

Vated and the density of the population amounts to almost five
hundred per square mile. Although the relief of the land is
highly important, it practically never reduces the population of
any large area to one per square mile unless it also injures the
climate.

Are not remoteness, inaccessibility, and stage of civilization
important reasons for sparsity of population in northern
Canada, for example? Yes, but remoteness and inaccessibility
are relative terms and depend largely upon climate, soil, relief
and the like. A hundred years ago few regions were more in-
accessible from Europe than were California, southeastern
Australia and New Zealand. Lapland, Iceland, Greenland, and
the Saint Lawrence coast of Labrador were all much more ac-
cessible. So too, were the coastal sections of the Saharan and
Arabian deserts, especially from, countries like France, which
border on the Mediterranean Sea. Yet thousands of people dis-
regarded these more accessible places and made long, difficult
voyages in order to settle in the much more remote regions
around the Pacific Ocean. Today California, northern New
Zealand, and the province of Victoria in Australia support not
far from twenty people per square mile, but the more accessible
regions mentioned above still have not much more than one.
Their climatic handicap makes them almost as remote and in-
accessible today as they were a century ago, whereas the good
climate and other resources of the Pacific regions have attracted
so many settlers that from Paris it is easier to reach California
than Labrador or the western Sahara.

In the same way, so far as mere distance is concerned, Green-
land is more accessible to Europe than is New England; yet
cold Greenland is almost uninhabited, while Massachusetts has;
about five hundred people per square mile. We are often told
that the position of Massachusetts, opposite the North Sea
area, has caused it to receive the first impetus of immigration
and trade from the most active parts of Europe, and hence is

3O THE HUMAN HABITAT

a main cause of the rapid growth of population and develop-
ment of industry. But Nova Scotia lies more than a half day's
sail nearer to Europe; its harbors are good, and it has excellent
coal of its own. Its settlers were essentially the same kind as
those of New England; its civilization today surpasses that of
New England in certain ways, such as respect for law, and it
has long been noted for the ability of its sons and daughters.
For many years the students from Acadia College in Nova
Scotia had a higher average standing in the Graduate School
of Yale University than had those of any other institution.
Thus sociologically as well as geographically, Nova Scotia
possesses no mean advantages. Yet the population is now only
one-fortieth as dense as that of Massachusetts.

The trouble with Nova Scotia, as Professor R. H. Whitbeck
has admirably pointed out, seems to lie not in its position with
respect to the old European centers of civilization, but its sup-
plies of food. So far as soil is concerned, Nova Scotia is about
as able to raise food as is Massachusetts. The summers, how-
ever, are enough cooler and the winters enough longer, so that
agriculture is less profitable. But such differences by no means
explain the contrast between populations of twenty-five and
five hundred per square mile. Only when modern communica-
tion enabled food to be brought from the western United States
did Nova Scotia fall much behind southern New England. As
soon as food could be brought from Ohio and farther west,
where the soil is very rich, it was distinctly cheaper to bring it
to southern New England than to Nova Scotia. In the same
way, as soon as the cotton gin raised the textile industry to high
importance, southern New England had an advantage because
it was nearer to the cotton fields, and also to the market for
manufactured goods afforded by the farmers who raised food
on the western plains and cotton in the South.

In other parts of the world similar conditions prevail. Mon-

WHERE PEOPLE DWELL 3!

golia is extremely accessible from northern China; its bor-
ders are scarcely more than a hundred miles from Pekin, while
Indo-China, Formosa, Java and Hawaii are more remote.
Yet, except during the last few years, far more Chinese have
migrated to these latter places where agriculture is highly
productive, than to Mongolia where drought is a constant
terror.

Another impressive illustration of the relative importance of
location, position, remoteness, accessibility or whatever one
may call it is found in New Zealand. No sane person would
deny that because New Zealand is located far away by itself in
the southern hemisphere, it has a smaller population and much
less importance to the world as a whole than it would have if it
lay half-way between New York and Liverpool. Its capacity
for supporting population may not be so great as that of the
British Isles because of more rugged mountains, or as that of
Japan because the climate is not so warm and moist. But these
physical differences by no means account for the fact that
while the old United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland,
and the main islands of Japan, each have about four hundred
people per square mile, New Zealand as a whole has only
twelve. In this case mere remoteness seems to be so important
that it may long prevent New Zealand from being a great
manufacturing region, or from being highly populous. But is
this remoteness as important as soil and climate? Iceland,
Newfoundland and the northern island of New Zealand are all
about the same size. Iceland is only eight or nine hundred miles
from Liverpool, it has been inhabited by Europeans for more
than a thousand years, and it might easily get food from Amer-
ica. Yet today, by reason of its unpropitious climate, it has less
than a hundred thousand people only two per square mile
and more than half the island is uninhabited. Newfoundland
lies about nineteen hundred miles from Liverpool, and almost

32 THE HUMAN HABITAT

within hailing distance of the world's greatest oceanic route. It
has been known to Europe for four hundred years, and might
easily and cheaply get food from the interior plains of America
down the great Saint Lawrence waterway. Yet because of its
unfavorable climate it has only about two hundred and seventy
thousand people, or six per square mile. Part of it still belongs
to the regions with less than one inhabitant per square mile.
New Zealand, on the contrary, was not discovered by Euro-
peans till 1779; the sailing distance from England, even via the
Suez Canal, is about fifteen thousand miles, and external sup-
plies of food are not so accessible as in Newfoundland. But it
has a good climate. So today, in spite of the fact that a large
area in the mountainous interior has less than one person per
square mile, the North Island has three times as many inhabi-
tants as Newfoundland, and seven or eight times as many as
Iceland. Thus we conclude that while newness and remoteness
are the main factors in determining the sparsity of population
in New Zealand compared with Great Britain, climate is the
most potent factor in causing the density to be relatively high
in New Zealand in contrast with Iceland and Newfoundland.

If location, age, and stage of civilization are all taken into
account, the real state of affairs seems to be this : When re-
gions where civilization is low come into contact with regions
where it is high, the density of population in the " new " region
for a while depends largely upon the relative locations of the
various places and upon the length of time that the new regions
have been in contact with the higher civilization. As time goes
on, mere location and age have less and less effect. If the cli-
mate, soil and relief attract progressive people in even moderate
numbers, lines of transportation are sure to be developed. To-
day New Zealand and Australia can be reached from Europe,
America, Japan or almost any civilized part of the world far
more comfortably and by far more frequent service than can t5>.

WHERE PEOPLE DWELL 33

sparsely populated coast of Somaliland. Yet Somallland is an
" old " region lying directly upon the main route from Europe to
India and the Far East. New Zealand and Australia have
grown rapidly in population, and will doubtless continue to
grow, whereas Somaliland remains almost unchanged. Iceland,
Newfoundland, Nova Scotia and Maine, in diminishing degrees,
are like Somaliland. At first, their location in reference to
northwestern Europe helped them. Today they have lost that
advantage because other conditions, especially climate and soil,
have caused a new center of civilization to be located in North
America.

In all this discussion we must bear in mind that we live 'in
an age when the newness of America and Australia, and even
of other regions like South Africa, is only just wearing off. We
are therefore unduly impressed by the importance of mere loca-
tion in respect to northwestern Europe. We are always hear-
ing that the newness of a region is the reason why it has no
population worth mentioning, and no lines of transportation,
and why only the most ardent pioneers want to go there. Since
the days of Columbus this has undoubtedly been true, but it
represents a highly unique condition which is rapidly dying out.
Even in the United States mere newness will soon cease to
count much in determining the density of population. Nevada
is scarcely newer than California, but it has about seven-tenths
of a person per square mile while California has twenty-two.
Wyoming can hardly be called newer than the state of Wash-
ington, but Wyoming has two people per square mile while
Washington has twenty. Newness, like remoteness and acces-
sibility, is indeed highly important, but its effects rapidly dis-
appear.

Our final conclusion is that in the long run, soil, relief, and
especially climate are the main determinants of where people
shall live. Soil and relief are especially important in determin-

34 THE HUMAN HABITAT

ing local differences. Mere location on the earth's surface,
apart from climate, is mainly important when the discovery of
new lands, the development of new types of human culture,
and the occurrence of great migrations upset the relatively
stable conditions which normally prevail. In recent centuries
such factors have probably been more important than ever be-
fore, or than they are likely to be for thousands of years, but
their effect is passing away. Back of all these other factors
lies climate; it paints the background of the picture; other fac-
tors sketch the details.

CHAPTER III

THE EFFECT OF GEOGRAPHIC EXTREMES

THE sparse populations described in the preceding chapter
are systematically found in the most repressive geographic en-
vironments, and stand very low in the scale of civilization. An
environment which is repressive at one stage of human develop-
ment may indeed be relatively favorable at another, but that
does not affect our principle. Thus Australia was repressive
so long as it remained isolated from the rest of the world. One
reason was the vast deserts, which are still repressive. Another
and far more potent reason was the complete absence of in-
digenous animals which could be domesticated and form the
basis of the pastoral mode of life, and the almost equally com-
plete absence of plants capable of sustaining man as an agri-
culturist. No race has ever been known to advance far toward
civilization without agriculture. Thus the Australian environ-
ment was highly repressive until wheat, barley, cattle, sheep,
and other useful plants and animals were introduced. Pre-
cisely the same is true of California where the aboriginal In-
dians stood at the very bottom in the scale of civilization,
whereas for people of European culture, the environment is
highly favorable.

For our present purposes the best way to understand the true
relation between man and his environment seems to be to take
a relatively few typical examples and treat them quite fully.
The Kalahari Desert in southwestern Africa " the southern
Sahara " furnishes an excellent example of an environment
that is repressive because of its extreme aridity. Although the

35

36 THE HUMAN HABITAT

Kalahari is nothing like so large as the Sahara only a hun-
dred and twenty thousand square miles compared with three
million it is equally inhospitable, as the Boers found in 1878.
In that year a party of Boers, unwilling to submit to the annexa-
tion of their country by Great Britain, trekked northwest across
the Kalahari to Lake Ngami with about three hundred wagons.
They were on their way to the interior of Angola. Water for
the animals soon gave out; the cattle grew weak and died; and
finally there was no water for the people. Men, women and
children died of thirst. Those who survived say that about two
hundred and fifty people and mine thousand cattle perished.

In the central part of the Kalahari Desert the Boers found
a great ocean of red sand. The crests of the waves were the
tops of sand dunes rising from thirty to a hundred feet, while
between them lay broad, flat troughs of varying width. On
some of the dunes the sand was loose, but a great many were
covered with tough, sunbleached grass growing knee-high in
clumps at intervals of about fifteen inches. Here and there
the travelers came upon dry stream beds where rivers once
flowed long ago. Elsewhere the weary oxen found relief as the
creaking carts moved easily across broad level stretches, flat as
a floor. These " playas ?> or "pans " turn into shallow lakes
If the scanty summer rains are sufficiently abundant, but the
water is usually brackish and never lasts long. Sometimes as
it dries up, it deposits a bed of sparkling salt crystals which
give a curious beauty to the otherwise monotonous scenery.
The Boers saw plenty of dry stream beds, playas and salt, but
the water that they sought could not be found.

Not all of the Kalahari Desert consists of sand. In the outer
portions long finger-like tongues of sand alternate with stretches
of grassy land called veldt. Still farther from the center of the
desert, especially on the west and north, the grasslands give
place to dense scrub and occasional patches of forest. Even in

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THE EFFECT OF GEOGRAPHIC EXTREMES 37

the central parts, and still more on the margins, one of the most
characteristic features is the herbaceous plants which quickly
spring up from drought-resistant tubers as soon as the scanty
summer rains begin in earnest. One of the most remarkable
plants is the watermelon, both sweet and bitter. The bitter kind
has leaves like an ordinary watermelon and most beautiful little
mottled green fruits with the bitterest taste imaginable. Both
kinds supply man and beast with water. Another remarkable
feature of the desert is the abundance of game, including the
lion, leopard, zebra, jaguar, baboon, ostrich, and many kinds of
antelopes such as the kudu and gnu. Along the few more per-
manent rivers, the hippopotamus, rhinoceros and elephant are
found, while giraffes and elands are by no means unknown. Of
course these animals are largely confined to the border regions
where they swarm around the water holes. In the wet season
however, they wander far and wide, and some of them reach the
sand, for the succulent herbage that then shoots forth with
almost miraculous speed, enables them to live for weeks without
a drink.

This curious desert is the home of three kinds of people; one
is the Bushmen who live entirely by hunting, and inhabit the
worst parts of the desert; the second and most numerous, is the
Ba-Kalahari, or men of Kalahari, who depend mainly upon
hunting, but live where the desert is not quite so extreme as in
the home of the Bushmen, and hence are able to keep a few
animals and practice a little agriculture; the third is the Hotten-
tots who inhabit the desert border and depend mainly on cattle,
although practicing a little agriculture.

These three races are extremely interesting because they
represent three stages of development, and three types of
adaptation to a desert. The Bushmen illustrate the effect of the
desert upon people whose stage of culture is very low. Of
course the ancestors of the Bushmen came from some other

38 THE HUMAN HABITAT

environment, and doubtless brought with them habits which
were not appropriate to the desert, but that was long ago.
Today the earlier adaptations are practically lost, and there
remain few characteristics save those which are appropriate to
a desert people who not only have no domestic animals except
the dog ? but live in an environment so dry that it is almost im-
possible to keep any.

How far the physical features of the Bushmen reflect the
desert environment it is impossible to say. They are very short
people, the men averaging scarcely five feet. Their dirty-
yellow faces are described as rather unattractive, partly be-
cause of the long low skulls, large prominent cheekbones, and
deeply set eyes which give the face a crafty expression. The
nose is small and flat, and the wide mouth, projecting jaws, and
protruding lips give an animal-like appearance. These char-
acteristics probably antedate the desert, and at least have no
known relation to the geographic environment. Nevertheless,
like most desert people, the Bushmen are slim, lean, almost
emaciated. Even the children lack the dainty roundness which
is so pretty in those of more favored regions. So little fat ac-
cumulates under the skin that in both men and women the skin
often seems as dry as leather and falls into strong folds around
the stomach and at the joints. Crooked backs and protruding
stomachs are also common, although many of the Bushmen are
well proportioned. In spite of all these seeming defects, the
Bushmen are active and are capable of enduring the greatest
privations and fatigue, for none who are otherwise can survive
in so harsh an environment.

These primitive people go about almost naked, for the tem-
perature is never very low. What clothing they have is com-
posed of skins of animals. Practically no other material is
available, and none can be purchased because the desert does
not permit the people to accumulate a surplus sufficient to pay

THE EFFECT OF GEOGRAPHIC EXTREMES 39

for clothing from other regions. The men often wear nothing
except a triangular piece of skin which passes between the legs
and is fastened around the waist with a piece of string. Many
of the men, however, and nearly all the women wear the kaross,
a kind of cape made of skins sewn together and used as a wrap
at night. For footgear both men and women wear sandals made
of hide or else of plaited bark. In the absence of clothing, the
people need something to keep away the insects. Accordingly
both sexes smear their bodies with a kind of native ointment.
Dust soon gathers on this and forms a sort of coating like a
rind. As bathing is almost unknown, this constitutes a more
or less permanent protection, not only from insects, but from
the scratching of the bushes.

The way in which the desert limits the Bushmen is seen in
their crude attempts at ornamentation. They decorate their
necks, arms and legs with all kinds of teeth, hoofs, horns and
shells, which they find in their wanderings through the desert,
and stick in their hair rare feathers or the tails of hares. Of
course they have a few ornaments which come from other parts
of the world, chiefly beads and rings of iron or copper. In
order to make their faces beautiful, the women follow the same
practice as in America, staining their faces with a red pigment
made from the rocks around them. Tobacco is another of the
few luxuries which the Bushmen obtain in exchange for the
skins of animals. It would be too expensive to carry this in im-
ported tobacco pouches, so the horns of goats are used, or the
shells of a land tortoise. A jackaPs tail, tied to the end of a
stick, is used sometimes for a fan, and sometimes for a handker-
chief.

The dwellings of the Bushmen are made of matting woven
from reeds which grow in swamps along some of the dwindling
rivers. In the plains the low huts of reed matting are often
placed above holes in the earth; in the mountains they may take

40 THE HUMAN HABITAT

the form of shelters on the windward side of holes among the
rocks. Almost no people in the world have fewer household
utensils. Practically the only receptacles are ostrich egg-shells
for water, and occasionally a few rough earthenware pots. The
food, which of course Is practically all meat. Is cooked by
merely holding It over the fire ; and fire Is obtained by rubbing
hard and soft wood together. Equally primitive people are
found only In equally repressive environments.

In spite of their primitiveness, the Bushmen are very clever
in their methods of hunting wild animals. Their knowledge of
the habits and movements of every kind of wild animal is mar-
vellously keen and accurate, as appears in their favorite prac-
tice of following a herd of antelope In Its migrations and killing
the animals one by one without driving away the rest. The
chief weapon with which they do this is a bow, cut in the bushy
region on the borders of the desert, and strung with a sinew
from some of the larger animals which they kill. The arrow
likewise Is made of the material that Is most available, namely,
a reed, about the thickness of a finger and two or three feet
long. It is wound with thread to keep it from splitting, and Is
notched at the end for the string. Iron Is too rare and ex-
pensive to be used for the heads of arrows which may be easily
lost, so the arrow Is pointed with bone or stone and a quill Is
attached to make a barb. Only In rare cases and for special
purposes can the Bushmen afford to use iron arrows which
they obtain from their Bantu neighbors. Yet curiously enough,
tobacco, which only left America four hundred years ago, has
penetrated to the Bushmen. So great a solace do they find in
it, that when they cannot raise It they sacrifice almost anything
to buy it from their neighbors of other races,

With their ordinary bows and arrows the distance at which
the Bushmen can be sure of hitting the game Is not over fifty
feet, yet the clever fellows succeed In approaching thus closely

THE EFFECT OF GEOGRAPHIC EXTREMES 41

to even the most timid animals. Even at this distance the light
reed arrows would not be very effective were not the tips coated
with a gummy, poisonous compound which kills even the
largest animals in a few hours. This compound is prepared
very cunningly and Europeans have not found out just how it
is made. It is known, however, that it contains the murky juice
of an abundant amarylis or of a euphorbia, together with the
venom of snakes or of a large black spider, or the entrails of a
very deadly caterpillar, this latter being often used alone.
These poisoned arrows cause the Bushmen to be greatly feared
by the races who live around them. The Bushmen must have
exercised extraordinary persistence and intelligence in testing
the sap of every available plant and the minute organs of
innumerable insects and larger animals in order to discover
those that make the best poisons. Their ingenuity in this
respect vies with that of other primitive men who long ago
tested all possible plants and animals to see which could
best be domesticated. But the search for poisons leads up
a blind alley, whereas the other search led onward to agri-
culture, transportation, and many other broad avenues of
progress.

For use at close quarters, the Bushmen again use the thing
that they can most easily procure, namely, a club about twenty
inches long with a knob as big as a man's fist at the end. Even
in our day, knives and spears with their sharp metal cutting
edges are too expensive for most of the Bushmen. The scanty
resources of the desert do not allow them to accumulate enough
capital to purchase even such obviously useful implements.
Almost the only other implement of the Bushmen is a rude
digging stick, consisting of a sharpened spike of hard wood in-
serted in a round flat stone with a hole in it. The stone is
fastened to the stick by a wooden wedge driven into the hole.
The stick is used by the women to dig the succulent tuberous

42 THE HUMAN HABITAT

roots of various plants that grow in the desert. It is also used
to dig pitfalls for animals.

The skill and endurance which the Bushmen display in pro-
curing food are extraordinary. Sometimes, for example, they
actually run down many kinds of game, pursuing them relent-
lessly until they themselves are almost exhausted and the game
is completely exhausted and bewildered. On their own legs
they do what we modern people pride ourselves on being able
to do by means of fast automobiles. Another special accom-
plishment is the ability to imitate the cries of birds and beasts
so cleverly that the creatures draw near. This is one of the
Bushman's best methods of getting within striking distance of
the animals which are almost his sole means of livelihood.

Such traits present one of the most interesting questions to
the geographer, sociologist, psychologist, and student of his-
tory. The Bushmen undoubtedly display an extraordinary de-
gree of skill in certain highly specialized lines. Their powers
of observation, of endurance, and of patient persistence ap-
parently far surpass those of the average civilized man. But
are these powers innate, or are they merely the result of train-
ing from infancy? Could the Bushman be equally well trained
to the steady industry required by agriculture, or to the life of
the merchant with its physical inertness and its necessity for
constant study of the desires and characteristics of his cus-
tomers? Doubtless these questions will always be debated, for
the simple reason that such traits as those of the Bushmen are
partly Innate and partly the result of practice.

A little reflection shows that we are dealing with one of the
most fundamental of all principles involved in the study of
geography. That principle is that the physical environment,
either directly or more often through the type of occupations
which it favors, exercises a selective effect. For example, in
a region such as that of the Bushmen, where the desert is too

THE EFFECT OF GEOGRAPHIC EXTREMES 43

dry to permit the use of domestic animals to any appreciable
extent, the man who is fat and sluggish is almost doomed to
destruction. With the resources available to him, it is impos-
sible for such a man to procure sufficient game to support him-
self and his family. So too, with the man who lacks the sort of
endurance which enables him to follow the fleet antelope for
hours. He is equally doomed to destruction if he is so clumsy
that he cannot approach cautiously and warily, without disturb-
ing the game. The absence of good eyesight may be equally
fatal. Certainly the man who is not a keen observer of nature
can never hope to get a living as a hunter in the wild desert.
Thus certain types of people almost inevitably tend to be
weeded out.

On the other hand, the thin, wiry person who can go a long
time without food, the one who is fleet and light-footed when
approaching game, the one who is especially skilled in imitating
the cries of animals and birds, especially keen-eyed and quick
of hearing, and above all the one who not merely observes
keenly but reasons correctly from his observations is enor-
mously helped towards survival. He is able not only to pre-
serve his own life in times of scarcity, but to obtain a surplus
sufficient to support his wife and children. Therefore, if there
is any such thing as the inheritance of physical and mental
qualities, it seems inevitable that an environment like that of
the Bushmen must tend, in the course of many generations, to
weed out those who depart too far from the type described
above.

At this point, the social phase of the matter enters in. The
youth who is skilled along the lines here set forth is especially
desirable as a husband; the parents of marriageable girls seek
such a youth. He becomes the ideal, and therefore gets the
wife who also approaches most closely to the feminine ideal.
Whatever that ideal may be, it always includes good health and

44 THE HUMAN HABITAT

physical strength of the kind which makes a woman best able
to bear children and rear them. Thus social selection, through
the institution of marriage, joins with what we may call purely
natural selection through ability to get a living, and puts a
premium on a certain type of physique and mentality.

There is still another side to the matter. The father and
mother who approach most nearly to the type which is ideal
from the point of view of survival, naturally try to train their
children along similar lines. The less competent people also
do their best in this respect. So important is this that the train-
ing of the children often seems to students of sociology to be
the sole cause of the qualities which it aims to develop. The
fact is, however, that among the Bushmen, and among prac-
tically every other type of people, the selection due to physical
environment, occupation and social ideals, tends to cause a
certain type to become the ideal. Then education seizes upon
that type as its aim, and still further intensifies it. Every en-
vironment favors some occupations and makes others of less
importance or even impossible. Each also generally favors
some types of physique more than others. Thus everywhere,
in the long run, both the physique and the mentality of the
people tend to become adjusted to the environment, and the
adjustment becomes still better because training ordinarily
works in the same direction.

Turn now again to the Bushmen. Another of the traits where
they are extraordinarily well adapted to their environment is
their habits in regard to eating. Often game is so scarce that
the Bushmen are on the point of starvation. For days at a
time they search almost in vain for food. At such times,
lizards, snakes, frogs, worms and caterpillars are eagerly de-
voured. Lice and ants are by no means despised, being always
eaten raw, and the eggs of the ants being regarded as especially
delicious. Yet when such foods fail, the Bushmen survive in

THE EFFECT OF GEOGRAPHIC EXTREMES 45

the face of hardships which would be fatal to persons of a less
tough and sinewy physique, or with less of the temperament
which makes them accept privation without nervous strain.
On the other hand, when the Bushmen find food, they eat
ravenously; it is said that five adults will eat a whole zebra in
a few hours, entrails and all, half-cooked and often raw. The
greatest delicacies, such as the occasional honeycombs found in
the desert, and the tubers and roots which give relief to a
monotonous animal diet, are also eaten voraciously without
much thought for the morrow. Is this an indication of thrif t-
lessness on the part of the Bushmen? Perhaps, but it is the
natural, in fact, the almost inevitable, result of their mode of
life. Not only do they often need large amounts of food when.
they have been half-starved, but in their hot climate the meat
of a zebra, for example, will keep only a short time. To attempt
to preserve it and carry it around with them would in many
cases merely mean losing it.

One of the most interesting things to the geographer and to
every other student of mankind, is the way in which moral
characteristics seem to be associated with certain occupations
and modes of life. The Bushmen, for example, are accused of
being extremely cruel. And so they are. To the white men who
settled around the borders of the Kalahari desert, the Bushmen
were a veritable scourge. One of their favorite methods was
to make raids on the cattle and drive them off in large numbers.
Their relations to the white man were almost identical with
those of the Apaches of Arizona and New Mexico to the early
American settlers. Naturally, such a state of affairs brings out
the most cruel side of both parties, Bushmen, like the Apaches
and practically all wandering people of the desert, regard raids
as one of the legitimate means of making a living. They are
the only available resource when every other means of obtain-
ing food has failed. Under such circumstances, the early white

46 THE HUMAN HABITAT

men naturally hated the Bushmeo 7 and made systematic plans
for their wholesale destruction. Cruelty met cruelty, for both
races were living under conditions which almost invariably
bring out that quality.

In other ways beside raids the Bushmen have the same char-
acteristics as other desert people such as the Arabs, Turkomans
and Mongols. They are passionately fond of freedom, for ex-
ample; not because of high moral ideals, but simply because
each man must fend for himself, and because the man who re-
fuses to submit to the will of others is not killed off or ostracized
as he is in more settled communities. The Hottentot neighbors
of the Bushmen easily and almost willingly permit themselves
to be made slaves, but the Bushman himself will fight to the
last gasp for his personal liberty. Someone has described him
as " the anarchist of South Africa." This does not prevent him
from voluntarily becoming a servant, for sometimes he does so,
and is considered trustworthy. What it means is that his mode
of life neither gives him a training in submission nor eliminates
those who refuse to submit.

Among the Bushmen, as among other nomadic people, the
mode of life makes it impossible to have anything except a very
loose type of political organization. In fact, the word " po-
litical " can scarcely be used, for there is almost no tribal organ-
ization. Each family runs itself as a rule. Sometimes, to be
sure, in special circumstances, as when game is abundant and
a large herd of antelope is being followed, it is an advantage for
several families to act as a unit. Then they join together and
appoint a chief, but the arrangement is never more than tem-
porary. Why should it be? Under such conditions, the indi-
vidual families, or at most only two or three families, most gen-
erally live separately; otherwise there would be too many
people for the scanty supply of game.

Courage is another Bushman quality which appears in prac-

THE EFFECT OF GEOGRAPHIC EXTREMES 47

tically all nomadic and desert people. Old residents, who seem
to know what they are talking about, say that with a dozen
Bushmen behind them, they would not be afraid of a hundred
Kafirs. The fear inspired by the Bushmen, like that inspired
by the American Indians in early colonial days, is said to have
had a good deal to do with the cutting down of the trees around
the early settlements in the more fertile lands south and east of
the Kalahari Desert. If the "bush" were removed far and
wide around their dwellings, the colonists had much less fear
of the raids of the Bushmen.

Another evidence of the highly specialized mentality of the
Bushmen seems to be found in the singular lack of success of
missionary work. The ideas of Christianity are said to have no
appeal whatever for the Bushman type of mind. Christianity
is a peaceful, agricultural sort of religion. The Bushmen have
no interest in either peace or agriculture. Christianity teaches
industry, but industry in the ordinary sense of the word does
the Bushmen no good. It teaches " thou shalt not steal," but
when no food can be procured from the chase or in any other
occupation open to the Bushmen, how can one keep his family
alive except by making raids? If one makes raids as part of
his regular work, he must sometimes kill people as a part of the
day's work. So why, says the Bushman, should he adopt a
religion that would spell failure at the most crucial of all crises?
Even though the Bushmen may not put the matter that way,
that is the inevitable result of their mode of life, their innate
temperament, and their training; and all three of these depend
on the extremely harsh and unproductive geographic environ-
ment. In this respect, as in a hundred others, the Bushmen act
and think as one would expect from a study of similar environ-
ments elsewhere.

CHAPTER IV

THE DESERT BORDERLANDS

ONE of the most interesting phases of human geography Is
the way in which certain habits and mental traits are rapidly
transformed when people migrate from one environment to
another, whereas other habits and traits are almost intermin-
ably preserved. A man who migrates from latitude 30 to
60 must change his mode of dress and clothing, or perish.
But if women take their husbands 7 names when married, it
is hard to see how any degree of change in geographic environ-
ment could alter the custom. Such a habit does not impose
a handicap in any type of environment.

The way in which the environment picks out some traits
for extermination or survival when people go to new regions can
easily be seen by comparing the Bushmen of the last chapter
with their neighbors the Ba-Kalahari in the parts of the desert
that are not quite so bad, and the Hottentots in the more fertile
border.

The Bushmen, as we have seen, live in the most extreme part
of the Kalahari Desert of South Africa. They have no cattle or
other domestic animals except the dog and cannot keep any
because the desert is too arid. Whatever they may have been in
the past, the severity of the desert has now made them hunters
pure and simple 3 almost completely adapted to a wandering and
highly precarious life, and endowed with a corresponding physi-
cal and mental equipment. The Ba-Kalahari are much more
recent arrivals, though no one knows when they came. One
of the most interesting facts about them is that their character

4 s

' THE DESERT BORDERLANDS 49

and tastes seem to be appropriate to an environment quite dif-
ferent from that of the desert. They appear to have been
driven into the desert by invading Hottentots. When they first
came vaguely into view, they appear to have lived outside the
desert and to have had great herds of horned cattle. The Hot-
tentots apparently drove them into the borders of the desert
and largely took away their cattle. At a later date they were
pushed still farther into the worse parts of the desert when the
Bantus, who are known as Zulus and Kafirs, overwhelmed the
Hottentots and drove them also desertward. Being thus driven
into an environment where cattle-keeping is almost impossible,
the Ba-Kalahari had to change their habits and adjust them-
selves to hunting as the main mode of life.

But old characteristics are highly persistent. Unless they
form an important obstacle to survival, it seems to take many
generations to weed them out. In the case of the Ba-Kalahari,
we may suspect that originally they were not merely herders,
but also agriculturalists. At any rate, although they live in the
desert, they are said to have a genuine passion for both agri-
culture and cattle herding. This is manifest in the care with
which they raise a few melons and pumpkins wherever they
can find water, and keep a few small herds of goats. If
they relied wholly on such slight resources, however, most of
them would soon disappear. So perforce they have learned
to be clever hunters, with something of the skill of the Bush-
men.

Unlike the great majority of pastoral people, but not un-
like many people among whom agriculture has long been es-
tablished, the Ba-Kalahari are relatively peaceful and timid.
They also differ from their neighbors in being grave and almost
morose, as is often the case among people who are timid. Liv-
ingstone says that he never saw the Ba-Kalahari children at
play.

50 THE HUMAN HABITAT

The fondness of the Ba-Kalahari for agriculture and herd-
ing doubtless helps them to survive, since it aids them in using
such scanty supplies of water as are available. Their timidity
would seem to be a distinct handicap which would tend toward
their extinction. The clearest point, however, even though no
exact facts are available, seems to be that the Ba-Kalahari who
were not able to adjust themselves to the life of the desert
hunter must have been rapidly exterminated. If parents could
not procure food for their children, their line must have per-
ished, unless perchance they left their people and yielded them-
selves as slaves to their neighbors in the better environments
round about. In some such way, apparently, the Ba-Kalahari
have become adjusted to the life of the desert hunter. They
have doubtless acquired skill in hunting through the hard school
of experience, but they have presumably also undergone a bi-
ological selection which has exterminated the stocks that were
not able to become good hunters.

All over the world the same thing seems to be happening.
People who migrate from one geographical environment to
another are compelled not only to face new conditions of health,
food, shelter and clothing, but especially to enter new occupa-
tions or employ new methods of carrying on old occupations.
Any innate traits or acquired habits which are positively harm-
ful in the new environment tend to be eliminated by natural
selection, but other traits or habits which are not harmful may
persist indefinitely, even though they have no special relation
to the new environment. In this lies, apparently, the explana-
tion of many cases where people seem to be closely adapted to
their environment in some ways, although other prominent
traits appear to be adapted to quite a different environment.

A Ba-Kalahari method of obtaining water furnishes an in-
teresting example of the way in which a people who have been
forced to migrate into an arid environment have invented or

THE DESERT BOEJDERLANDS 51

adopted a new and clever device. Here and there the desert
contains hollows in the sands where water can be obtained at a
depth of a few feet. Generally such places are in the beds of
the many channels which cross the desert and seem once to
have carried large streams, although now they are waterless
year after year. The first thing which the Ba-Kalahari do in
such a place is to dig a hole deep enough to reach moist sand.
Then a bunch of grass is tied to the end of a hollow reed, and
placed at the bottom of the hole. The damp sand is rammed
firmly down around the grass, and a water-drawer generally
a woman sits down with the other end of the reed in her
hand. Opposite her on the ground she places the shell of an
ostrich egg, for the Ba-Kalahari, like the Bushmen, are so
primitive that such shells are their usual vessels for water.
Taking the reed in her mouth, the woman sucks vigorously.
Water seeps out from the wet sand, and finally she is able to
draw it into her mouth. When her mouth is full, she cleverly
squirts the water into the egg shell. In order that no water may
be lost, she holds in her mouth not only the end of the reed, but
a straw running to the egg shell, and down that the water runs.
When the shells are full, they are covered and buried. The Ba-
Kalahari often procure stores of water in this way and hide
them so that they cannot be found in case of the sudden raids
to which they are subject at the hands of the Bushmen and
Hottentots. The early travelers in the Kalahari were never
able to find these supplies of water, although they knew of their
existence. No amount of bullying or persuading would cause
the Ba-Kalahari to provide water, but as soon as cordial and
friendly relations were established, the natives always seemed
able to find it no matter how dry the country might be.

Just as the Bushmen represent the full response of primitive
man without domestic animals to the most rigorous kind of
desert, and the Ba-Kalahari the modified response of a pastoral

3 2 ' THE HUMAN HABITAT

and agricultural people who have been forced into parts of the
desert only a little less arid, so the Hottentots represent the
response of a cattle-raising people to the part of the desert
where there is grass enough for herds, but where agriculture is
generally not profitable. Some authorities do indeed hold that
the Bushmen, Ba-Kalahari, and Hottentots represent three
successive stages of development, and that none of the stages
can be regarded as permanent. It is doubtless true that no
stage in human culture is really permanent, for new discoveries
may be made anywhere at any time, new plants or animals may
be introduced, and new ideas and methods may also be intro-
duced from abroad. Nevertheless, so long as no such new
factors enter into the situation, the modes of life of the Bush-
men, Ba-Kalahari, and Hottentots respectively appear to repre-
sent a relatively complete and permanent adjustment to the
most extreme desert, the desert which is not quite so rigorous,
and the grassy borders of the desert where cattle can thrive but
agriculture without irrigation is too precarious to form the main
basis of life.

It is Indeed true that the Hottentots have a great cultural
advantage over the Bushmen and Ba-Kalahari because they
depend upon cattle rather than upon the chase; but they are
able to profit by that advantage only because they live on the
borders of the desert instead of in its driest parts. They illus-
trate two of the most fundamental geographic principles: the
first is that as men rise in the scale of culture their reactions to
their geographic environment become different; the second is
that while relatively low types of human culture are able to sur-
vive in almost every environment aside from ice-caps and the
most extreme deserts, the higher types thrive and advance only
in better environments. Each type of human culture appears to
develop most fully in its own environment and tends to be
modified as soon as it is transferred elsewhere. These two

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THE DESERT BORDERLANDS 53

principles go far toward explaining a great many of the most
outstanding facts of geography, sociology, and history.

To return to the Hottentots, they are primarily nomadic
herders. Since cattle are their chief animals, their habits are a
little different from those of similar people in similar environ-
ments who depend mainly on sheep, camels, or other animals.
But the differences thus occasioned are insignificant compared
with the high degree in which not only the mode of life but the
mental character of the Hottentots resemble those of other
nomadic herders such as the Arabs, Turkomans, and Khirghiz.
The most important fact in the lives of the Hottentots is not
merely that they have to depend on grass for a living, but that
no other mode of life except hunting is available. This means
that so long as they are not helped by people of higher culture,
who, under better circumstances, have discovered how to pump
water from deep wells, and store large supplies of hay, they
must be nomadic.

It makes little difference whether the animals that nomadic
tribes depend upon are cattle, reindeer, yaks, camels, sheep,
goats, horses, or llamas. It makes little difference Whether they
are pastured in a very cold or a very dry region. Whichever
may be the case, the supply of grass is not only limited in
amount, but is renewed only at long intervals, for the growing
season is usually too short for the grass to spring up more than
once each year. Under such circumstances, if a herd or flock,
large enough to support a small group of families is kept for
any great length of time in one place, it will soon eat up all the
available grass within easy reach of a favorable camping place
in cold regions, or of a water supply in the desert. This would
not be true if the temperature were sufficiently high all the year
round, or if the rains were so abundant that the grass could
keep renewing itself for many months, or could be easily turned
into hay in large quantities. But in the regions that we are

54 THE HUMAN HABITAT

talking about, one of the greatest characteristics is the parsi-
mony of nature, her failure to provide vegetation except in
small quantities and at long intervals. Therefore if the people
of the very dry and the very cold regions would keep their ani-
mals in fit condition, and would have meat and milk from them
all the time, they must drive them from one pasturage to an-
other. So they too, like the hunting people, have to be no-
madic. Thus nomadism is the central feature in the human life
of vast areas that are too cold or too dry to support more than
one person per square mile.

At each encampment among the Hottentots, as they were be-
fore the coming of the white man, the huts were generally
placed on the smoothest and grassiest spot available, just as
among the Arabs and especially the Khirghiz. There the huts
were set in circles of varying size according to their number
and that of the cattle. The huts, like those of the Bushmen and
Ba-Kalahari were made partly of skins and partly of reed mat-
ting. In the center of each a hole served as a villainously smoky
fireplace, while round about it the sleeping places of the family
were marked by a series of little hollows where the earth had
been dug away for an inch or two to accommodate the hips and
other projecting bones of the sleeping Hottentots. Within the
tent the supply of utensils was extremely scanty, not only as
befits the poverty which is the usual lot of nomads, but as is
necessary where all the household goods must be packed up
every few weeks and transported to new pastures on the backs
of cattle. Yet the household goods, even before the coming of
the white men, were more extensive than those of the Bushmen.
This was natural, for the Hottentots not only needed more be-
cause they had to take care of milk, but they had greater wealth
than their more primitive neighbors by reason of their cattle,
and were more easily able to transport their material posses-
sions for that same reason. So we find in their huts tortoise

THE DESBHT BORDERLANDS 55

shells for spoons and dishes; calabashes, bamboos and skins for
holding milk and butter; a few earthen vessels and well-made
bowls of hollowed wood for cooking and other purposes; and
mats of rushes interwoven with bark (bast) to sit and lie upon.
These almost complete the list, but they represent nearly all
that one finds in the tents of almost any nomads, and nearly all
that is compatible with the nomadic mode of life.

Just as the household appliances of the Hottentots were very
simple and yet a little more elaborate than those of their neigh-
bors in the less favorable part of the desert, so their weapons
and dress were primitive but a little better and more varied
than those of the more strictly desert people. Thus, although
bows and arrows were their primary weapons, and wooden
knob-kerries a secondary type, iron-tipped assegais or spears
were also not uncommon. This was true even before the com-
ing of the white man made it much more easy to procure iron.

In those old days the Hottentots, like their Bushmen and Ba-
Kalahari neighbors, dressed almost entirely in skins. The skin
coat, or kaross, was worn across the shoulders, and a smaller
one around the loins. These cloaks were worn, all the year
round, the hairy side being turned inward during the winter
and outward during the summer. The Hottentots even slept
in them at night, and were buried in them when they died. In
addition to the kaross, the women wore a little apron to which
they hung their ornaments, and underneath this one or two
fringed girdles, while a skin cap adorned the head. Even now,
when the Hottentots procure cotton cloth from Europeans,
their clothing is almost as simple and inexpensive as in the,
past.

It would be interesting to describe many other habits of the
Hottentots, but we must limit ourselves to a few which illus-
trate the way in which the cattle-keeping mode of life which is
possible in the grasslands not only made the Hottentots more

56 THE HUMAN HABITAT

prosperous than the Bushmen, but apparently altered their
habits and character. One of the characteristics which the
older writers especially emphasize, and in which they all agree,
is the friendly, hospitable character of the Hottentots. These
people despised anyone who would eat, drink or smoke alone.
When strangers arrived, they set forth the finest feast that they
could prepare, even if it impoverished them for weeks. Such
unstinted hospitality is one of the most prominent qualities
among practically all nomadic keepers of animals. Sometimes
it is ascribed to the fact that because the nomads travel so
much, they constantly meet new people and therefore lose all
fear of strangers. This is true, but not the whole truth. Hos-
pitality appears to be not only an acquired but an inherited
characteristic, for it is highly important as a means of self-
preservation.

Compare the Hottentots in this respect with the Bushmen
hunters on the one hand, and with settled agricultural people
on the other. The Hottentot, because he has animals, is always
on the move, not only when he transfers his camp to a new
place, but still more often when the cattle stray, as happens
continually. As soon as it is discovered that the fear of wild
animals or some other cause has driven some of the animals
away, the nomad must immediately start in pursuit, even
though without supplies of food and water or a wrap in which
to sleep. If he meets a stranger, who is perhaps also searching
for lost cattle, it is of the greatest advantage that the two
should exchange information in friendly fashion, and perhaps
combine to search where neither has yet looked. If night
comes on, and the animals are not found, it is a great advantage
to be hospitably received and helped next day by anyone whose
camp happens to be near.

But how is it with the hunter? The last thing he desires is
to meet people. If he is trailing an animal, the arrival of

THE DESERT BORDERLANDS 57

another hunter may drive the animal away, or the other man'
may get the game, and at the same time disturb the neighbor-
hood so much that the other animals also flee away. So as the
hunter wanders in search of game, his object is to avoid the
habitations of his fellowmen. The others do not want him any
more than he wants them. Naturally, then, hospitality and
friendliness are of little advantage to the hunter and may be a
distinct disadvantage. The man who is too friendly in tem-
perament may actually diminish the food supply of both him-
self and the others.

Among agricultural people quite a different situation pre-
vails. Hospitality may not hurt them, but it is of no such great
advantage as among the nomadic cattle keepers. The farmer
works on his own land, his animals are generally fenced in.
Only rarely does he have to go long distances, and then he
usually knows just where he is going. He can definitely plan
to spend the night at some familiar place. Moreover, the pop-
ulation at the market towns which are his most frequent goal is
usually large enough so that there are places which make a
business of entertaining strangers. Only rarely and in regions
where the population is sparse, is it necessary for the farmer
to drop in on the neighbors unexpectedly for the night. Of
course a friendly disposition and the spirit that makes one man
help another are advantages everywhere. But the open-
hearted hospitality and keen delight in meeting strangers which
are characteristic of nomads are not of special survival value
to the hunter or farmer, whereas they are to the cattle-keeper.
Although the matter has never been statistically tested, this
value is probably so great that in the course of ages it produces
a genuine selective effect. We all know that some people are
innately hospitable, while others are not, and we infer that
during the course of uncounted generations, nomadic keepers
of cattle have tended to become more hospitable than people of

58 THE HUMAN HABITAT

other occupations, not merely by training but by actual in-
heritance.

Another characteristic which the Hottentots share with prac-
tically all pastoral nomads is physical and often mental indo-
lence among the men. Nevertheless they are capable of
arousing themselves to sudden and extreme activity. Here, as
in other cases, no one can say how much of this is due to train-
ing, and how much to innate character, but the argument is pre-
cisely the same as in respect to hospitality. When the cattle
are quietly feeding on good grass near the tents, there is prac-
tically no work to be done aside from milking them, and that
is ordinarily left to the women. Suppose, however, that the
animals stray to a considerable distance and then begin to fol-
low those from some other encampment, or suppose that a
storm arises and the cattle begin to drift before it. Or perhaps
wild animals approach the herd and stampede it, or raiders
from another tribe swoop down upon the herds.

Under each of these conditions, what kind of man succeeds
in saving his property and in insuring a supply of food for
himself and his children? Obviously it is not the steady-going
man who has been laboriously at work upon something else and
who starts after his animals at the slow, dogged pace of the
man who is already wearied with the day's work. It is the one
who jumps to his feet, fresh and rested, and pursues the animals
with the utmost ardor. Such a man, no matter how lazy he may
be the rest of the time, succeeds in the main work of life, for his
flocks and herds are not depleted. Thus indolence, joined with
the power of sudden and extreme activity, is one of the most
prominent characteristics of pastoral nomads all over the world.

People who are often called upon for such extreme exertion
cannot be fat and heavy; they must be slender and well propor-
tioned. Their hands are not likely to be large large hands
may even be a disadvantage for they imply large, flat feet

THE DESERT BORDERLANDS 59

which are not so good for running or for jumping onto a horse
as are the smaller feet with higher insteps. On the contrary, a
large strong hand is a great advantage to the farmer. There-
fore in the course of ages it seems inevitable that the dry or
cold environment which favors pastoral nomadism as a per-
manent occupation, should indirectly favor the perpetuation of
relatively slender people with small, delicate hands and feet,
whereas the more moderate environment which favors agricul-
ture tends to preserve a sturdier, larger people, with big, strong
hands.

How far the food of a people influences its physical char-
acteristics and temperament is not yet certain. If food does
have any such effect, it would seem as though this ought to be
apparent when hunters are contrasted with pastoral people, or
with others who are agricultural. At any rate, the food in the
three cases is extremely diverse. The hunters eat meat as their
main diet, although of course they gather such wild products
as they are able. The pastoral nomad, whether he be Hotten-
tot, Arab, Turkoman or Lapp, is by no means so great a meat-
eater as is the hunter. People often make the mistake of think-
ing that because these people depend on animals, they eat meat
all the time. That is not true. Of course meat is an important
part of the diet, but only the rashest nomad kills the female
animals so long as they are of any value as mothers. The
young males can indeed be killed, but if the nomads would buy
anything from the settled people, who alone are able to furnish
them with grain, dates, cloth, iron and other manufactured
goods, the young males must be sold. Therefore, so far as pos-
sible, practically all pastoral nomads depend upon milk.
Among most pastoral people fresh milk is rarely used, and
sometimes is considered nauseating. The regular rule is to put
the rnilk into vessels in which there remains a little old milk,
and there it promptly sours into the form sold in America under

60 THE HUMAN HABITAT

various names such as leben, madzun, yowort. Among the
Hottentots, however, contrary to the case among Arabs and
even among the neighboring Bantus, the milk is drunk fresh,
not being allowed to turn sour. Cows' milk is drunk by both
sexes, but ewes 7 milk only by the women. In the old days, if
cows' milk was scarce, the women were not permitted to use it,
but were obliged to drink either ewes 7 milk or water. Practi-
cally all pastoral nomads make some form of butter and cheese.
The butter soon becomes rancid, but the cheese is often kept a
long time and is one of the main articles of diet when fresh
milk becomes scarce. The poorer the pastoral nomads, the less
meat he eats, but even among the rich, milk in one form or
another, together with whatever vegetable products may be
purchased in exchange for the young male animals, is the main
food.

In addition to the milk and sometimes the flesh of cattle, the
Hottentots who preserve the old habits use the flesh of animals
which they hunt. Occasionally they kill buffalo, hippopotamus,
antelope or other game. Hares and rabbits are also eaten by
the women but not by the men, whereas the flesh of the mole
as well as the pure blood of beasts is forbidden to the women,
but not to the men. This sounds as though such Hottentots
obtained a large part of their food from wild animals, but that
is not the case, at least among the cattle keepers. They do
indeed supplement their supplies by hunting, but they are only
indifferent hunters compared with the Hottentots and Ba-
Kalahari. Among them, perhaps, the art of hunting has not
been important enough to act as a selective factor and give a
material advantage to the good hunters.

Still another interesting result of the difference between the
environments, and hence the social customs of the Hottentots
and their neighbors, is seen in the form of government. Among
cattle keepers, although the population is inevitably scanty, a

THE DESERT BORDERLANDS 6 1

given area will support many more people than among hunters.
Moreover, it is an advantage for several families to live to-
gether. The more the better, up to the point where the number
of animals becomes so large that they eat off the grass near the
camp with undue rapidity. Accordingly, like most people who
follow the same mode of life, the Hottentots had a patriarchal
system of government. Each tribe had its semi-hereditary
chief and each camp its captain or patriarch. The chiefs and
captains met in council whenever any great matters had to be
decided, but for the most part each patriarch managed the
affairs of his own little group, assisted perhaps by the older
men. He settled all disputes regarding property, and punished
criminals without consulting any outside authority. Theft, es-
pecially cattle stealing, was regarded as one of the worst crimes,
just as was horse stealing on the American frontier in the days
when the frontiersmen more or less adopted pastoral nomad-
ism as their mode of life. The thief was bound hand and foot
and left on the ground without food for a long time. If his of-
fense were slight, he was beaten mildly with a stick before being
released. If the offense was great, he was severely beaten and
then banished from the corral. It should be noticed, however,
that although theft was so severely punished when a man stole
among his own people, the Hottentots, like practically all other
nomads, had no scruples against stealing when they made raids
on their neighbors. Among them, as among the Arabs, that
was a recognized mode of getting a living. The moral code,
like a large number of the personal habits and mental char-
acteristics of the nomads, conformed to the requirements of the
environment. The environment does not make a moral code,
a human habit or a mental tendency. It merely weeds out
codes, habits and tendencies if they sufficiently diminish the
capacity of an individual or a community to survive.

CHAPTER V

LANDS THAT ARE TOO COOL

THE parts of the earth, that are too cool for agriculture He
mainly in high latitudes but partly at high elevations. In both
cases the results are essentially the same, and are much like
those which occur where the climate is too dry. The essential
point is that the indigenous culture, that is the occupations,
habits and customs which grow up locally, must be adapted to
conditions where animals furnish practically the only way of
getting a living. The animals may be wild, in which case the
people will resemble the Bushmen in many respects. But if
there is grass enough for domestic animals, pastoral nomadism
will take the place of hunting, and people like the Lapps and
mountain Khirghiz will resemble the Arab, Hottentot, and
Turkoman nomads of dry regions.

The gist of the whole thing is that peoples' occupations are
the most powerful of all factors in determining their mode of
life. Fishermen in all parts of the world, for example, as a
rule resemble one another in their main habits, more than they
resemble their near neighbors who are cattle raisers, farmers,
merchants or miners. Aside from difficulties due to the cold
climate, a Malay fisherman could probably get a living much
more easily by fishing in the waters of Norway than by farm-
ing in the interior of Sumatra. A Hindu merchant, provided he
could speak the language, would probably adapt himself more
easily to a shop in Paris than to a mine in his own country.

In order to appreciate the resemblance between people whose
geographic environment practically forbids them to practice

62

LANDS THAT ARE TOO COOL 63

any mode of life except hunting or fishing, compare the Eskimos
and other people of the far north and the Onas of the far south
in Tierra del Fuego with the Bushmen of Kalahari. It is
scarcely necessary to describe the Eskimos. Almost everyone
knows that they live along the coasts of North America where
they join the polar bear in moving from place to place accord-
ing to the migrations of the seals. Sometimes they migrate in
order to visit places where the birds are nesting in great abun-
dance, or where fish can be easily procured; or perchance they
travel a little inland, following the caribou or musk ox, but that
is the exception, not the rule. Wherever they go the quest for
wild animals is their main object, just as among the Bushmen.
Of course the Eskimos in their moist, cold, Arctic environment
dress warmly in thick furs, whereas the Bushmen in their dry,
hot, subtropical environment often wear practically nothing.
But the Bushmen as well as the Eskimos dress in skins, for in
both cases that is the material which they can most easily pro-
cure. In like fashion, just as the Bushmen eat every sort of
animal food on which they can lay their hands, and stuff it
down half-cooked in vast quantities when it is abundant, so
the Eskimos eat anything and everything in bad times. Then
when they make a kill of seals or other game, they gorge them-
selves until they regurgitate, and even then keep on eating.
One of the most characteristic pictures of the Eskimos which
every explorer long retains is their shining, greasy faces as
they stuff good fat blubber into their mouths and cut it off
with knives wielded dangerously near their noses.

The hardiness of the Eskimo and his ability to endure in-
tense cold and prolonged hunger are paralleled by the ability of
the Bushman to endure a degree of heat and thirst that would
kill a civilized man. The Bushman's long hard chases after
game and his ability to stalk an animal with almost infinite
patience are paralleled by the tremendous efforts of the Eskimo

64 THE HUMAN HABITAT

when he spends scores of hours paddling in his canoe in search
of a seal, and by his patience in watching beside a hole in the
wet ice while lying on his stomach. In the same way, the
cleverness of the Eskimo in devising an oil lamp, a skin kayak
and a harpoon, and in using bones and bits of driftwood to
make his sledges, shows the same sort of ability as appears in
the Bushman's preparation of poison for arrows and in the
Ba-Kalahari method of sucking water out of the sand. Other
resemblances appear in the ability of both races to endure days
and weeks of hunger almost without complaint or apparent
suffering, and in the lack of ability of either to withstand the
diseases and luxuries of civilization. In both cases, a very
severe geographical environment, which rules out all occupa-
tions except hunting, not only causes people to develop a culture
whose aim is to train people in certain physical, mental and
moral qualities, but in the course of many generations actually
weeds out the families in which such traits are especially de-
ficient.

Just as the Bushmen follow the agile antelopes, so the Es-
kimos follow the seemingly clumsy animals of the sea. Some
summers the Eskimos are full of the zest of life, for each time
they put forth among the floating ice in their skin kayaks, they
come back with a seal or two or perchance a polar bear, for
where the seals are there are the bears also. In such years
almost everyone is well fed and happy. When the hunting
season with its wanderings is over, each little group settles
down in quiet for the long winter, assured that it will be well
fed, well clothed and well protected from the nipping winds.

The same sort of thing occurs among other people regardless
of the race to which they belong. In northern Canada, for ex-
ample, the Eskimos sometimes come into contact with the In-
dians of the pine forests farther south. That is especially likely
to happen when seals are scarce but musk ox and caribou

LANDS THAT ARE TOO COOL 65

abundant. Large bands of these animals drift slowly from one
region to another, and both the Eskimos and the Indians follow
them persistently. They take their families with them, In
order that as many animals as possible may be utilized, not
only for food but for their skins which are of the utmost value
for clothing and for tents during the biting days of winter. Far
away in northern Siberia the annual migration of the wild rein-
deer is eagerly awaited in the same way, as the great event of
the year, among such people as the Yukaghirs. If the animals
are found in abundance, joy reigns universally, for the winter
will be comfortable.

But now there comes a summer when the seals fail to appear
in large numbers on the coast, the musk ox and caribou are
scarce, even the rabbits farther south in the interior where the
Indians dwell seem almost to vanish, and the reindeer in Siberia
seem almost to have been exterminated. Then what happens?
More than ever the hunters must be nomadic; they must travel
hither and thither, searching for game of some sort. Some
years it seems as if everything combined to produce disaster.
The animals seem to be not only scarce but shy, and the fish
are equally wary. To add to the general misery, the unusually
wide wanderings of the tribes bring hostile people together so
that one tribe clashes with another. In northern Canada the
Indians may fight with the Eskimos; or in northern Siberia the
Samoyedes with the Ostiaks. When winter comes, no one can
settle down in peace, no food supply is laid away for the cold
dark days, no blubber fat is ready to be burned; no fresh thick
furs replace the worn garments of last year, and the old skins
that form the walls of the huts must do duty again, even though
they are full of holes. Then, more than ever, the hunting
people of the cold regions must wander. They are sure to
starve to death if they stay in one place; if they move elsewhere
there is at least a chance that they may find something. The

66 THE HUMAN HABITAT

wanderings and consequent exposure may kill many of the little
children and old people, as well as some of the women and even
a few men in the prime of life, but wander they must, for in no
other way can they find food.

The Samoyedes of northern Siberia appear to afford an inter-
esting example of the way in which a change in environ-
ment causes a change in civilization. According to Rodlov and
others, the Samoyedes once lived much farther south than now,
in the better part of Siberia, and were correspondingly more
civilized. They were well acquainted with mining, for example,
and sometimes dug shafts to a depth of fifty feet. They knew
how to build furnaces wherein to melt copper, tin and gold ; they
manufactured weapons of hard bronze and made great pots,
one of which weighs seventy-five pounds. Their polished deco-
rations of bronze and gold testify to a high development of ar-
tistic feeling and industrial skill. They were not nomads, but
husbandmen who practiced irrigation and built canals whose
ruins can still be seen. They kept domestic animals, including
a few horses, together with sheep and goats.

The Turkish invasion of southern Siberia in the fifth century
of the Christian era enslaved part of the Samoyedes and drove
others farther north. Those who live in the north today have
degenerated to a very low stage of civilization. Along the
lower course of the Ob they have no domestic animals and
maintain themselves by hunting and fishing. They dress in
skins, use implements of bone and stone, and eat carnivorous
animals including the wolf. Instead of finely-made copper ves-
sels, they use the crudest earthenware. Their huts resemble
the stone huts of the Eskimos; their graves are mere boxes left
in the tundra. Such a low stage of culture is almost essential
because a higher stage can scarcely be maintained on such a
slender environmental basis, but it by no means implies the ab-
sence of fine qualities. The Samoyedes, for example, are noted

LANDS THAT ARE TOO COOL 6^

for their honesty. They never take anything left by their
neighbors in the tundra or near the huts. They are likewise
described as independent and highly courageous. But neither
these qualities nor almost any others can compensate for the
repressive effect of an environment where even the herding of
reindeer is beset with great difficulties, and men of every race
are forced to become nomadic hunters if they would procure
the means of life.

In the most southern of all inhabited lands the Onas of
Tierra del Fuego differ widely from the Eskimos and Indians of
Canada, and from the Samoyedes and Yukaghirs of Siberia, In
race, language, and many other respects. Yet they have the
same kind of environment, and therefore the same mode of life
and the same habits in many respects. The guanaco, a wild
relative of the llama of Peru, is their main reliance.

Like the Eskimos, the Onas wear no clothing except the skins
of animals. Like the Bushmen they wear only a single gar-
ment, a guanaco cape thrown over the shoulders and clutched
by the hand in front. They do not want to fasten it, for like the
Hottentots they may at any moment desire to throw off their
clothing in order to shoot an arrow. The women dress as
simply as the men, and freely throw off their capes in order to
plunge into the icy water and gather sea weed. Their neighbors,
the Yaghans, go fishing quite naked in open canoes even when
the water is full of ice. This is not very different from the
habits of the Eskimos who sit in their huts almost naked, and
think nothing of rushing out of doors unclothed to stop one of
the frequent dog-fights, even though the thermometer is fifty
below zero.

The people of cold regions who are able to keep domestic ani-
mals, differ from those who live by hunting in almost the same
way that the Hottentots differ from the Bushmen. They have
somewhat larger tents or huts, more equipment, a greater

68 THE HUMAN HABITAT

variety of utensils and weapons than do the hunting folk. Since
their mode of life provides greater material resources, they are
able to purchase a greater abundance of articles from more
civilized people. Nevertheless, nomadic people are always
poor according to our standards. There are definite limits to
the size of the herds which any one man can maintain, and no
one can become what we would call rich. Moreover, no nomad
can carry many goods and chattels with him, and practically
all of what we call necessities as well as luxuries are out of the
question.

The Lapps of northern Scandinavia illustrate the matter.
James Thompson's description of them is still essentially true:

"The reindeer form their riches; these their tents,
Their robes, their beds and all their homely wealth
Supply; their wholesome fare and cheerful cups."

Not all of the Lapps, to be sure, depend upon reindeer, for
many are fishermen, but they are poorer than the others. Even
the mountain Lapps, who rely most fully upon reindeer, have
learned to drink coffee and to wear stout Norwegian cloth.
Nevertheless, their wealth is all in their reindeer. The extraor-
dinary place which reindeer occupy in the lives of the Lapps is
evident from the fact that the Lapp language contains more
than three hundred native words connected with that animal.
The deer supply practically all the food of their owners, for
the Lapp diet consists mainly of reindeer milk and cheese in
the summer and reindeer meat and cheese in the winter. Of
course the Lapps, like other primitive hunters and nomads eat
some green food in the shape of succulent plants that spring tip
for a brief season. Moreover, like others who keep domestic
animals, they buy a little food from the settled people on the
borders of their territory. Nevertheless, that often amounts to
so little that the Lapps grow tired of their monotonous food.

P3 gj to

H *2 -

M cd ^t

Ml

525 ^ ^

W . *

I Si
SS^

O O c

9

o

o .a

PLATE VIII. AN INDIAN BURIAL AT WRANGEL.L, ALASKA.

A region where low summer temperature still permits the forests to resist the
encroachment of agriculture. (Courtesy American Museum of Natural History.)

LANDS THAT ARE TOO COOL 69

Their experiences suggest those of the Arabs who grow weary
of " this vile milk " as Doughty vividly relates, and long for
something that will really fill their stomachs. In the same way
among the Khirghiz who migrate back and forth between the
high plateaus and the dry steppe lands of central Asia, the chil-
dren often beg for bits of bread as our pampered children beg
for candy or ice cream.

Among the mountain Lapps the regular habit is to erect a
small wooden storehouse raised above the ground on piles. In
this, during the autumn, they store the cured meat of the sur-
plus reindeer bulls. When winter sets in, they wander with
their reindeer, making the storehouse their center, but taking
the animals here and there where it is possible for them to paw
through the snow and find dry grass and moss. As soon as the
weather grows warm in the spring, the Lapps leave their store-
house in the low country and push up to the summer pastures
among the mountains. That is the good time of the year, the
time when the fawns follow their mothers, when milk is abun-
dant, and great quantities of it can be converted into cheese for
the winter.

In a certain way, the life of the Lapps with their reindeer is
very different from that of the Khirghiz with their horses, yaks
and sheep in the lowlands and high plateaus of central Asia.
It differs still more from that of the Arabs with their camels
and sheep in the dry desert, the Hottentots with their cattle on
the borders of another dry desert, and the Peruvian Indians
with their llamas in the high plateau of the Andes. Yet the dif-
ferences are mostly external; all these people must perforce
dwell in light, easily movable dwellings which can be taken
down and packed onto animals in a few moments. All of them
dress in the skins of their animals, or in garments woven from
the wool or hair; all make their huts and tents of these same
materials. All likewise use only the simplest utensils, cook

70 THE HUMAN HABITAT

their meals much of the time over fires of dried dung; eat out
of a common dish; store their milk in skins; and sleep on the
ground on beds consisting merely of a layer or two of fur, skins
or felts. All alike think mainly in terms of animals, so that
their talk is as full of animals as that of a traveling salesman is
of prices and bargains. Their form of government is almost
universally patriarchal, for no other form is really practical.
Education is extremely rare, and arts of all kinds are almost
unknown save for a few simple processes connected with pre-
paring milk, preserving skins, and weaving rough cloth.

The point of the whole matter, as we have already said, is
that throughout the vast areas where the environment permits
the rearing of domestic animals, but does not permit agricul-
ture, mining, or any other mode of life except hunting and
fishing, this same sort of nomadic life is almost certain to pre-
vail. If the environment is still worse, so that hunting is the
only possible mode of life, a still lower degree of culture pre-
vails. In a few cases, to be sure, tribes which depend on hunt-
ing might improve their situation by keeping domestic animals.
The Indians and Eskimos of northern Canada and Alaska, for
example, might in some regions keep reindeer, or ovibos, as
Stefansson suggests that we call the musk ox. In other cases,
people who wander with their herds might settle down to a
precarious type of agriculture. Such cases, however, are rare,
and the change from one mode of life to the other is much more
difficult than most people suppose. In fact, even where the
environment seems to civilized people to be appropriate to a
higher mode of life, the experience of the natives often proves
that this is not the case. Thus as a rule, all over the globe the
half of the lands where the population numbers less than one
per square mile is inhabited by primitive people who remain
primitive in large measure because their environment does not
permit them to become more advanced.

CHAPTER VI

THE MARGINS OF CIVILIZATION

WHAT happens when the lands that are too dry or too cold
for agriculture are penetrated by the white man? Will he suc-
ceed in spreading his civilization over them and in making them
productive? He will doubtless succeed to a certain degree, but
how far and how soon? In some far future, irrigation may
enable the twelve million or more square miles where the cli-
mate is too dry for agriculture to support enough people to
double the world's population. The regions that are too cold
for agriculture may then harbor a vast industrial population
which will exchange its manufactured goods for the food and
raw materials of the reclaimed deserts. But all that, if ever it
comes to pass, lies a long, long way in the future; we are con-
cerned with the actual facts of today.

How rapidly is civilization taking possession of the cold and
the dry lands with less than one inhabitant per square mile?
The answer is summed up in the general principle that lands
which fall below a certain degree of productivity are not yet
wanted by civilized people. This does not include desert oases
where agriculture affords a permanent and adequate basis for
progress. We mean the cold or dry areas which cannot be
cultivated. Throughout the twenty-five million square miles of
such lands it seems to be an almost universal rule that highly
civilized people are there mainly as intruders; only rarely as
permanent settlers. The intruders come mainly as traders,
miners, missionaries or officials. They often come without
their wives and children, and their settlements lack the funda-

71

72 t THE HUMAN HABITAT

mental elements of permanence, no matter whether they are in
Alaska, Siberia, Patagonia, central Australia, or the French
Sahara.

Greenland furnishes a good illustration of a land that is too
cold. During the four hundred years after Eric the Red ex-
plored the coast of that island between 982 and 985 A.D., and
again during the last two centuries, the Norse and Danes have
been free to settle there. Yet only in the rarest cases has an,
official, trader, or missionary been willing to let his wife stay
any great length of time. Still more rarely have Danish
parents wanted their children to remain permanently in Green-
land. The children themselves have felt impelled to go else-
where in search of careers. Greenland may temporarily at-
tract a few active young people who are full of the spirit of
adventure, curiosity or religious zeal, but it does not hold
them. Even among the three hundred Danes who live there
now, the percentage of women and children is small,
and only a handful look upon Greenland as a permanent
home.

This is typical of what happens in the less desirable parts of
the world. A few people from more favored lands go there for
special purposes. Those who go are generally of strong phy-
sique and of a more or less adventurous temperament. As
long as they stay, they give to the small settlements in which
they live an appearance of vigor and progress. But the more
competent rarely remain all their lives, and still more rarely do
they want their children to do so. If any are willing perma-
nently to endure the uncultured, unattractive conditions which
prevail among the sparse and untutored native populations,
they generally revert toward the native culture. For example,
during the fourteenth century communication between Norway
and Greenland was interrupted and the Eskimos migrated into
southern Greenland in large numbers, presumably because of

THE MARGINS OF CIVILIZATION 73

unusually snowy winters farther north. When Greenland was
again discovered, no trace of the few thousand Norse who
formerly lived there was found. Some were doubtless killed,
but it is generally supposed that the remainder amalgamated
with the Eskimos and completely lost their European civiliza-
tion. However this may be, it is certain that since the re-dis-
covery of Greenland by Europe, two centuries of contact with
the Danes have not appreciably changed the Eskimo mode of
life. The main reason seems to be that even such highly ad-
vanced people as the Danes have not succeeded in introducing
new occupations, or any essentially new methods of conducting
the old occupations. In a land like Greenland, the geographic
environment makes it extremely difficult to do this except where
mineral resources are found.

Scandinavia furnishes a still more convincing example along
this same line. Ever since the dawn of history, the scanty no-
madic population of Lapland has been in contact with the
rapidly advancing civilization of Norway, Sweden and Finland.
If ever the conditions have been favorable for the spread of
high civilization into the cold parts of the world, it has certainly
been there. But what has happened? The Norse do indeed
conduct summer excursions to the Land of the Midnight Sun;
the Swedes have opened iron mines on the borders of Lapp ter-
ritory; and the Lapps have been provided with a few manu-
factured articles such as knives, cloth and the like. But how
far does the Scandinavian culture prevail In Lapland, and how
far have the Lapps changed their mode of life? Scarcely at all.
The average Swede, Norwegian, or Finn can make a far better
living and find life far more comfortable and enjoyable in his
own region than he could by going a few hundred miles north
into Lapland. Not only are the conditions of life unpleasant in
Lapland, but a given amount of energy and thrift applied to the
limited resources of that region will not yield nearly so large a

74 THE HUMAN HABITAT

return as when applied to the better resources where the cli-
mate is more favorable. That is one of the great secrets of the
backward civilization of the entire half of the lands where the
population is less than one per square mile. When people have
once risen to a relatively high standard of living, the rewards of
human effort in the less favored parts of the earth are not great
enough to attract them.

Alaska is a case of the same kind. For two generations the
people of the United States have been urged to settle there.
They have been told about the coal, gold and other mineral re-
sources, the vast supplies of timber, the wonderful possibilities
for fishing and fur raising. They have been officially informed
that something like a hundred thousand square miles of land
are fit for tillage or pasturage. Yet the white population has
increased only from about ten thousand when Alaska was pur-
chased by the United States in 1867 to 27,900 in 1920. Only
one in four of the white population is a girl or woman, and
the entire number of married women is only 3,920. By far the
larger number of the families with children are in the southern
part of Alaska, the only portion where the population rises to
a density of a quarter of a person per square mile. That is the
only portion where there seems as yet to be much assurance
that a permanent white population will ever take root. There
the children under ten years of age form twenty-three per cent
of the white population in contrast to only fourteen per cent in
the northern half. In a normal state like Michigan, such chil-
dren form twenty-six per cent.

The present tendency among the fifty-five thousand people
who inhabit Alaska is illustrated by the fact that both the
whites and the Indians have declined since 1900. The most
significant feature is illustrated in the following table which
shows the number of whites and Indians respectively in 1920
for every hundred of the same race in 1910. The figures are

THE MARGINS OF CIVILIZATION 75

arranged according to the four judicial districts, the most
southerly district being labelled A, the next B, and so on.

Whites in Indians in

1920 per igso per

100 Whites too Indians

in IQIO in igio

District A (South) 134 91

District B 81 98

District C 48 107

District D (North) 36 121

This means that although the white population is increasing
in the south, it is rapidly leaving the north. The Indians on the
contrary, are doing exactly the opposite. Unless the census Is
In error they are leaving the south, or possibly dying out there,
and are migrating northward or perhaps increasing rapidly
through excess of births over deaths. The immediate cause of
this is the exhaustion of mines and the unusual condition in-
duced by the World War. But this does not account for the
opposite tendencies among the intrusive white men and the
native Indians respectively. It does not explain the curious
way in which the two types of civilization are pulling apart,
temporarily at least. If this continues, the slight veneer of
European culture which has come to the Indians is likely to
become thinner and thinner, while the few white men who stay
in the north are more and more likely to adopt a mode of life
resembling that of the Indians. That they are doing this is evi-
dent from the fact that a goodly percentage of the seventeen
hundred whites who remained in the northern judicial district
in 1920 were hunters, guides, trappers and fishermen, the rest
being predominantly miners. In this respect they are like the
Indians, among whom hunters, guides and trappers form nearly
half of those whose occupations are listed by the census, while
fishermen form more than a quarter.

76 THE HUMAN HABITAT

All over Alaska the occupations of the white men are quite
different from those of corresponding people at home, and re-
semble those of the Indians. This is evident in the following
figures which show the approximate number of men engaged in
each occupation for every man who would be so engaged if the
percentages in the various occupations were the same as in the
entire United States.

Occupation Whites Indians

Farming 08 .01

Trade .5 - 1

Mining and Mechanical Pur-
suits S -3

Clerical Work S - 6

Stock raising ix> 7- 6 (Reindeer herders)

Professions i.o .2

Domestic and Personal Service 14 4

Transportation 1.5 -2

Public Service 3- 1 - 2

Lumbering 3-5 2.8

Fishing S-3 I 4o

Mining n.8 1.4

Hunting, guiding, etc 66,7 2,005.0

Among the white men farming amounts to almost nothing.
Only about half as many men proportionally are engaged in
trade, in manufacturing and mechanical pursuits, or in clerical
work as in the United States as a whole. Stock-raisers and pro-
fessional men show about the normal proportion, although
three-fourths of the stock-raisers are reindeer keepers instead
of dairy-men. Personal service and transportation require
nearly a half more white men there than here, but this is largely
because the Indians take little part in these pursuits. When it
comes to public service, the demand for men in Alaska is rela-
tively three times as great as at home; even if the Indians are

THE MARGINS OF CIVILIZATION 77

taken into account, it remains twice as great. The occupations
which are especially characteristic of Alaska are lumbering,
fishing, mining and hunting, which take anywhere from three
and a half to sixty-seven times as many persons proportionally
as in the main United States. Among the Indians these same
occupations are likewise important, except that the place of
mining is taken by reindeer herding. In other words, the white
man in Alaska largely gives up the pursuits which most fully
occupy him in more favorable climates, and turns especially to
four occupations which are peculiarly adapted to sparsely
populated countries, but none of which tends to produce a per-
manent progressive civilization.

But how about parts of the world where there is no native
population? Will not European civilization spread into them?
Iceland illustrates what happens in the cool, wet regions; the
Near East, Australia and Nevada in the dry. A thousand years
ago Iceland had only recently been discovered and was prac-
tically uninhabited, but between 880 and 930 A.D. perhaps fifty
thousand Norse migrated thither. These migrants contained
an astonishingly high percentage of the upper classes, mainly
chiefs who would not endure the kingship and the taxes im-
posed by Harold Fairhair, the first Norwegian king. Taking
the best of their retainers, these proud Norse either made
Viking raids, or if more peaceably inclined, went to Iceland.

After the first migration, practically no new settlers came
for a thousand years. During that period the Icelanders per-
formed one of the greatest feats in all history. Although never
numbering more than a hundred thousand, they produced a
literature which, according to many of the best authorities such
as Lord Bryce, former British Ambassador in America, has
never been surpassed by any primitive literature except that
of Greece. But they did far more than this. They established
a free representative government which secured uncommonly

7 8 THE HUMAN HABITAT

good results with a minimum of machinery. They likewise
maintained a high degree of culture. Sometimes, to be sure,
the people nearly starved, and culture flickered almost to the
point of expiring. Each time, however, they recovered. Dur-
ing the last three centuries the Icelanders, in proportion to their
numbers, have produced more eminent men who are mentioned
in the Encyclopedia Britannica than have the people of any
other country outside England and Scotland. Moreover, in our
own day, Iceland still maintains a highly creditable university
and all sorts of scientific and philanthropic institutions. It
has kept pace with the most advanced countries in improving
its laws, health, industries and education.

Does all this seem to be in direct contradiction to our state-
ments as to the failure of the higher civilizations to occupy the
poorer lands of the world? Not at all. The inhabited part of
Iceland is limited to a narrow fringe, mainly on the southern
border but with a few outliers in the form of little fishing sta-
tions in the north. A considerable area of Iceland might be
utilized by people who were willing to live as the Lapps and
Eskimos live. The Icelanders, however, have never been will-
ing to do this. Without consciously framing the matter they
have refused to give up a standard of civilization which in-
volves permanent homes, books, schools, churches and a settled
form of government. Therefore, although the Icelanders de-
pend upon animals as fully as do nomads like the Lapps, they
inhabit only a small part of their island. The winters in that
part are no more severe than in New England; the summers,
although too cool for agriculture, are warm enough and long
enough so that grass grows with extraordinary luxuriance.
Without being absent from their homes more than a few weeks
in the summer, the Icelanders can pasture their sheep and other
animals and can lay by great stores of hay to feed them through
the winter. They can likewise engage in fishing, wandering far

THE MARGINS OF CIVILIZATION 79

and wide over the waters, but returning to permanent homes.
Wherever it is impossible thus to maintain permanent homes,
the Icelanders leave the land unused. That is why a large
part of Iceland is today practically uninhabited. The secret
of the whole matter seems to lie in the fact that when the re-
sources fall below a certain level, the standards of civilized life
cannot be maintained. Therefore civilized people either avoid
such places as permanent homes, or decline toward the level
of the native populations. The discovery of new methods and
resources will doubtless change the limits beyond which civil-
ization tends to decline, but that will not change the great geo-
graphic principle.

Turn now to the dry regions where agriculture is impossible.
They differ from the cold areas because they are less uniformly
uninhabitable, being spotted with oases or traversed by rivers
or mountains where the presence of water fosters abundant
vegetation. Moreover, by means of wells, reservoirs, canals
and the like, human ingenuity is able to overcome the climatic
conditions to a much greater extent than in the cold regions.
Nevertheless, in the Near East where civilization has been
longest established, it has practically never spread out into the
real desert. Within sight of the fertile lands of Egypt, which
have been cultivated for six thousand years, the people of the
desert live practically as they have always lived since the
camel and horse were domesticated. In Palestine even today
one has only to go from Jerusalem a few miles into the dry
wilderness of Judea or the Dead Sea valley to come upon Arabs
who pursue the habits of their fathers practically uninfluenced
by the Assyrians, Syrians, Jews, Egyptians, Romans, Naba-
teans, Saracens, Turks and British who have successively ruled
the land. Many of the desert people, to be sure, migrate into
the better watered lands, and there acquire a new type of civil-
ization. A few from the better watered lands are sometimes

80 THE HUMAN HABITAT

forced Into the desert, but they leave their civilization behind
them and soon become like the desert wanderers.

The same thing is true in the great deserts of Arabia, Trans-
Caspia, Turkestan, Gobi and Mongolia, and in the smaller
desert tracts of Persia, Baluchistan and northwestern India.
Even in the Kalahari the life of the Hottentots who have sud-
denly been brought into contact with highly civilized Dutch
and English settlers has not been essentially modified so long as
the Hottentots stay in their old environment. The cultivated
areas have been increased in size by means of irrigation, and
new supplies of water for cattle have been procured by digging
wells. Moreover, certain habits pertaining to dress, imple-
ments, food and the like, have been somewhat altered. But
among the Hottentots who remain in the old environment, the
essential customs pertaining to getting a living have been
altered only a little. Nor have the people of the 'higher civiliza-
tion penetrated into the desert to any great degree. The lands
too dry for agriculture, like those that are too cold, offer little
temptation to permanent settlement on the part of the white
man, provided there are nomads there who will use the grass for
flocks and herds and let him make a profit by buying and
selling.

But how about regions like Australia and the southwestern
United States where the white man found dry regions whose
millions of acres of grass were wasted because the native in-
habitants had no domestic animals? Do those not prove that
European civilization will spread Into even -the driest parts of
the earth? The answer is yes, in certain respects, but this does
not contradict the principles that we have just laid down. In
Australia, for example, white men have carried the highest
type of culture out into the driest desert where there Is less
than ten inches of rain per year.

They have done this partly by opening mines, but mining is

THE MARGINS OF CIVILIZATION 8 1

a local industry, highly specialized and relatively temporary,
and need not detain us here. The main way in which the white
man has attempted to conquer the Australian desert is by imi-
tating the more primitive pastoral people and raising cattle,
sheep, horses and even camels. At first he seemed to do this
and still retain his old type of civilization. Here and there
throughout a million square miles of the dry parts of Australia
one could formerly find homes where the latest books were
read and appreciated, where the children were sent far away
to be educated, and where the hospitality was as delightful as
in any place in the world. That is what often happens when a
high civilization has attained success after a sudden vigorous
onslaught on the desert or any other unfavorable new environ-
ment.

But what comes next? Today, the great stations, as the
Australian sheep ranches are called, are being broken up. The
government has decided that no one man shall hold enough
land to yield him a fortune, but that a larger number shall have
enough to yield to each a comfortable living. In the drier parts,
the ideal now is not a millon, or even a hundred thousand acres
as was common in the past, but ten or twenty thousand. The
day of the old, free-handed, cultured and adventurous settler
in the desert is gone; the older men of that kind are dying out
or have moved to the cities; the profits from cattle and sheep
are not what they once were, and the children are rarely will-
ing to stay in the old homes.

It is easy to say that all this is due to the government,
but the government has merely hastened what was bound to
happen anyway: The type of white man who is content to live
in the drier regions tends slowly but surely to decline. Driven
wells, automobiles, mowing machines, and other appliances do
indeed make it possible for the white man to raise animals In
desert regions without being a nomad. A similar change may

82 THE HUMAN HABITAT

some day occur even In places like Arabia where a nomadic
population is well established. But even where the white man
has things almost wholly to himself, there are vast tracts
one or two millon square miles in Australia where practically
no one yet lives, wants to live, or is likely to live until the earth
is far more crowded than is yet the case. But the most sig-
nificant thing is that after the cream has once been skimmed
and the newness worn off, the most competent types of people
are rarely willing to get a living permanently by means of the
desert resources.

Why should they? The summer heat is scorching; fierce
winds often fill the air with blinding dust; and the flies are a
constant nuisance. Even though they may be kept out of the
house by means of screens, they cannot be driven away out of
doors so long as animals are kept. Far worse than this is the
fact that the children in such places can only be sent to school
with the greatest difficulty; and social contacts are few and un-
satisfactory. Men of the finer types feel unwilling to have
their wives and children subjected to such conditions. The re-
sult is that little by little the drier parts of Australia are de-
teriorating. How far this process will go no one can tell, but it
seems quite clear that after a few generations the people who
remain will be different from those who have gone away, and
will have a lower civilization. The tendency of the desert is
like that of the cold lands. It attracts people when wealth can
rapidly be acquired, but after a while the more active people,
the leaders, tend to go back to regions of higher civilization,
and progress is followed by retrogression.

This conclusion seems to be verified by the driest parts of the
United States. Nevada is the state where aridity makes agri-
culture least feasible; although compared with the world's
really great deserts, it is highly favored. Now it so happens
that among the forty-eight states of the Union, none displays

THE MARGINS OF CIVILIZATION 83

so many peculiar features according to the Census, and most of
the peculiarities are directly or indirectly due to aridity. The
first peculiarity is the extremely low density of population,
only .7 of a person per -square mile, or about a third as many as
in Wyoming, which comes next in this respect. But low as the
population is, it fell off more than five per cent between 1910
and 1920. Vermont and Mississippi also lost a little, but not
at nearly so great a rate. Another peculiar feature is that the
number of men compared with women is far larger than in any
other state. This is especially true in the rural sections where
there are a hundred and fifty-six males per hundred females.
If children are omitted, the discrepancy becomes even greater.
In 1920 there were actually about two hundred and forty men
and boys over fifteen years of age for every hundred women
and girls. Such a ratio means that unsettled frontier con-
ditions still prevail far more than in neighboring states. Men
come for a little while without any intention of establishing
homes, so that the population contains an extraordinarily large
percentage of men between the ages of twenty and forty-five.
Such a condition is, of course, very bad socially. Perhaps it
has something to do with the fact that the laws of Nevada per-
mit Reno to be the great divorce mill of the United States. It
certainly explains why that town has at various times achieved
an uncommonly bad reputation for organized vice.

Of course this is largely because Nevada has a larger per-
centage of miners than any other state, over a fifth of the men
being engaged in that occupation. But Nevada is not a really
great producer of minerals; half of the states excel it in the
value of their mineral products. Nevada merely seems to be a
great producer because it has at one time or another had some
very famous mines, and its other products are relatively neg-
ligible. No, the real fact of the matter is that because it is so
dry nobody wants the land for much of anything except mining,

84 THE HUMAN HABITAT

and of course the percentage of vagrant miners is bound to be
high. If Nevada were as moist as Virginia its miners would
scarcely be noticed, and its social problems would be corre-
spondingly different.

Another interesting result of the fact that the white man does
not want the land of Nevada is found in the fact that among all
the states there is none except Arizona where the proportion of
Indians is so high. In the driest parts of these states the primi-
tive civilization of pre-Columbian days more nearly holds its
own than anywhere else in the United States.

The fact that nearly twenty-two per cent of the men of
Nevada are miners is no more peculiar than is the fact that
eleven and a half per cent are engaged in transportation. No
other state except Idaho has so large a percentage. This is
natural, for where the population is sparse the distances from
one center to another are great, and the amount of work de-
voted merely to getting one's self and one's goods from place to
place becomes excessive. That is another of the handicaps of
a sparse population. If left to itself, however, Nevada might
let its transportation sink to a relatively low level because of
lack of funds. As a matter of fact, a large percentage of the
men engaged in transportation are employed upon transconti-
nental railways. They are in Nevada not because that state
maintains them, but because great trans-continental railroads
have to cross the state to reach California and the coast.

Another peculiar feature of Nevada is that scarcely twenty
per cent of the men are engaged in agriculture, a smaller per-
centage than in any other part of the country except the Middle
Atlantic States and New England. In those states, the per-
centage is low, not because there are so few farms but because
such vast numbers of people are engaged in manufacturing. In
Nevada, on the contrary, it is low because there is so little land
that can be cultivated, or where cattle can be raised without

THE MARGINS OF CIVILIZATION 85

resorting to a genuinely nomadic mode of life. Such farms as
can survive are very large, averaging seven hundred and forty-
five acres, which is more than in any states except Wyoming
and New Mexico. If only the improved acreage is included,
their average of one hundred and eighty-eight acres is exceeded
only in North and South Dakota. No less than ninety-four per
cent of all the improved lands are irrigated, which shows how
dry Nevada really is.

The way in which this land is used illustrates the civilized
substitute for the nomadism of more backward people. Most
of the farms are cattle centers. The animals are pastured on
the outlying dry land, but when the pasturage there is ex-
hausted, the owners do not migrate elsewhere like the Arabs.
They simply feed their animals with hay. In order to have
enough hay nearly sixty per cent of all the improved land, and
no less than ninety per cent of all the land for which crops are
reported, is devoted to raising hay and forage. No other state
raises so much hay proportionally, and nowhere else is the
number of cattle, sheep, horses, mules and burros so large per
farm. Think what it means when the average farm has twelve
hundred sheep, one hundred and thirteen cattle, and seventeen
horses! Naturally, the price of these animals is almost the
lowest in the country, for prices normally fall when the quan-
tity of any product is great in proportion to the number of
people who want it.

Although these large figures sound as though agriculture
were highly important only 0.8 per cent of the whole state of
Nevada consists of improved land, whereas in Iowa the figure
is 85.5. Yet even this small figure shows a decline, for Nevada
was the only state aside from New England, New York and
New Jersey where the amount of land in the farms, and even
the amount of improved land, declined from 1909 to 1919. As-
tonishing as it may seem, the improved land actually fell off

g6 THE HUMAN HABITAT

more than twenty per cent. Here we have an illustration of
what we often find in the less favorable lands. At the first rush
of settlement, all the available land may be occupied more or
less completely. As time goes on, people find that they cannot
make a good living under such a stern environment. Therefore
little by little they give up the poorer portions of the land, the
less profitable mines, the less traveled railroads. In Nevada
few ranches are still running except those where irrigation
makes it possible to raise hay for cattle which pasture on sur-
rounding tracts that are unwatered.

With this goes the fact that in Nevada a larger percentage
of the farms are run by managers than in any other state in the
country. The number thus operated is only five per cent to be
sure, but even that is very significant. It shows that the own-
ers of the better farms tend more than in any other state to go
away. People who succeed well enough to live elsewhere do
not like to stay on the Nevada farms any more than on the
great sheep and cattle stations in Australia. Another notable
thing in this connection is that the proportion of tenants, only
nine per cent, is less than in any other state. Most of the
farms are not profitable enough to support both a landlord and
a tenant, nor are they desirable enough to attract tenants when
abandoned by their owners. This illustrates the almost uni-
versal rule that the more desirable the land the greater the
percentage of tenants.

All these facts from the Census form an extremely inter-
esting picture. Take from Nevada the people who get a liv-
ing from some source other than the ninety-nine per cent of
the soil which is unwatered, and who remain? The twenty-
two per cent of the population who depend on mining are gone
so are the eleven or twelve per cent engaged in transporta-
tion, the twenty per cent more or less who run farms where ir-
rigation Is practiced, and the merchants, artisans, servants, pro-

THE MARGINS OF CIVILIZATION 87

f essional men and others who get their living by caring for the
wants of the groups first mentioned. There remains in Ne-
vada almost no one except a small and growingly impoverished
group of cattle-raisers who live on isolated ranches where there
is not enough water to raise hay for the animals. Little by little
4 the more energetic and ambitious people on such ranches are
moving away, while the rest tend to go downhill. Their chil-
dren cannot go to school; there are no amusements for either
parents or children; good roads cannot be built because of the
great distances and the prohibitive expense. The more ener-
getic among the children hate such conditions, and hurry to the
towns as soon as they are old enough. Thus even in the United
States an environment too dry for agriculture, and where no
other factors, such as mines and railroads, bring other modes
of life, promotes a tendency to revert to a low stage of civiliza-
tion. All over the world the lands too dry for agriculture, as
well as those that are too cold, seem to be unfavorable to any
appreciable advance in human culture. Even when a high
civilization is introduced into such regions, it tends to decline.
That tendency is likely to continue until some new invention
or discovery introduces a new mode of getting a living.

CHAPTER VII

TOO WARM AND MOIST

THE tropical and semi-tropical parts of the world may be
divided into three great types. The first comprises the two
million or more square miles where there are practically no in-
habitants. The second comprises another eight million square
miles or so where the population ranges from one to a hundred
per square mile. The third consists of the relatively small, but
extremely populous areas where the density averages above one
hundred. Many people seem to think that the inhabitants of
all these regions can be lumped together as inefficient, back-
ward and uncivilized. That is a great mistake. The differ-
ences between the most primitive tropical people, such as the
wilder Hill tribes of India, and the most advanced, such as the
Parsis, are enormously greater than the differences between the
most advanced tropical people and ourselves.

The most primitive tropical people are generally savages who
live in the equatorial rain forests where the population is
scarcely more than one per square mile. They Include such
types as the pigmies of Africa, the Negritos of the East Indies,
and the Indians of the Amazon Basin. Such people wear al-
most no clothing; they live in tiny shelters of branches and
leaves which ofttti are placed among the trees; they hunt with
the most primitive implements such as poisoned arrows. Even
in our day they are so poor and have so little contact with the
outside world that iron tools are rare, and stone implements
are still employed. Organized government is almost unknown,
while religion is often so undeveloped that only by patient re-

ss

TOO WARM AND MOIST 89

search has its presence been detected. Among such people
cannibalism, witchcraft, and similar savage customs prevail
even to this day.

The resemblances of such people to the Bushmen of the
Kalahari, the Onas of Tierra del Fuego, and the Eskimos of the
north are readily apparent. All of these primitive groups live
in a low stage of culture because they have never been able
to overcome the many handicaps of their environment. But
does the warm moist climate and luxuriant vegetation of the
Amazon Basin, equatorial Afric^a, and the interior of Borneo
and New Guinea offer handicaps at all like those of Arctic re-
gions and deserts? Is it not the ease of life rather than the
difficulty which holds people backr^Or if there are difficulties,
are they not due to disease and physical inertia rather than to
the impossibility of agriculture ?$*"^ a

One of the most common complaints of outsiders who go to
the more primitive tropical regions is the lack of variety in the
food. Here is the way Commander Todd of the United States
Navy reports the matter: " The crying need of the Amazon
Valley is food for the people. ... At the small towns along
the rivers it is nearly impossible to obtain beef, vegetables or
fruit of any sort, and the inhabitants depend largely upon river
fish, manioc and canned goods for their subsistence." But the
people here referred to are mainly foreigners, or those who de-
pend upon foreign methods. Out in the great forest the
natives themselves generally have no grain or vegetables what-
ever, aside from the manioc root. In spite of the common sup-
position to the contrary, they rarely get fruit and nuts from the
trees which form a dense canopy far above them; nor is it pos-
sible to raise domestic animals. Almost their only source of
livelihood is such game as they can bring down, a little manioc,
and such other edible herbs, fruits and nuts as they can pick up
in the forest. Even if they were not terribly handicapped by

go THE HUMAN HABITAT

the damp heat and the virulent diseases, it is doubtful whether
they could cultivate the soil. It is too thoroughly leached and
water-logged; useful plants run to stem and leaf rather than
seed, and are choked by weeds with amazing rapidity.

Although people of this most primitive forest sort occupy a
considerable area, they form only a small percentage of the
inhabitants of the tropics. A vastly more important group
comprises those who dwell where jungle rather than dense rain
forest prevails, and who practice what may be called hoe and
tree culture. Such people drop the seed into holes punched
with a stick, and grub up the weeds with a hoe, but do not em-
ploy animals to plow or cultivate the soil. They are found in
practically all parts of the tropics aside from the most sparsely
populated regions and those of dense population where rice cul-
ture almost invariably prevails. They form almost the whole
of the eighty-five million in Africa between the dry Sudan on
the north and the Kalahari on the south. They likewise com-
prise a large fraction, possibly a quarter, of the three hundred
million of India. In the East Indies and Indo-China perhaps
fifteen million of them live outside the rice areas, while in
America from central Mexico southward well toward the south-
ern side of Brazil, the majority of the sixty-five million inhabi-
tants are of this same type.

The degree ' of progress among the two or three hundred
million tropical people who practice hoe culture varies
greatly. The most primitive generally occupy the regions
where the rainfall is heaviest, or most constant throughout the
year, and where the jungle is consequently most dense. They
ordinarily live in rough, pointed huts with heavy thatches of
palm leaves or similar material, and with flimsy walls of sticks.
Around their huts they usually have a few fruit trees, especially
cocoanut palms and bananas. Their fields consist of almost
inconceivably weedy patches of yams, cassavas, pumpkins,

TOO WARM AND MOIST gi

millet or Indian corn. Often a field is cultivated only one or
two years <and then abandoned in favor of another which has
been freshly cleared and burned.

Above this lowest type of agriculture a whole series of higher
types is found. Where the jungle is less dense, trees and roots
more and more give place to millet and Indian corn, and the
stage of culture gradually rises. These cereal crops require
at least a certain degree of regular cultivation, and thus are
a great help toward civilization. In still higher stages tropical
agriculture branches along two lines, both of which were prob-
ably introduced from regions beyond the tropics. One of these
is rice culture which we shall discuss in the next chapter, and
the other plantation agriculture, which is a relatively new
venture whose effects on civilization cannot yet be fully esti-
mated.

Tropical agriculture and transportation are generally con-
fronted by difficulties greater than those experienced in middle
latitudes. One of the greatest difficulties is the soil. Fresh
volcanic soil, such as that of Java and Martinique is as good in
the tropics as anywhere else, but unfortunately it is scarce.
Most parts of the vast area within the tropics suffer as we
have seen, because the soils are so highly weathered and thor-
oughly leached that they have lost much of their plant food.
They may form the red material known as laterite, the dregs of
a soil after the good parts have been carried off. Even where
laterite does not prevail, decay occurs so rapidly that the soil
lacks humus, and is poor in nitrates, as well as in other essential
constituents. Elsewhere, as in vast sections of the Amazon
Basin and the low plains along the coast of New Guinea, the
soil is water-logged so that it does not have a chance to become
aerated and productive. The heavier the rainfall and the more
even its seasonal distribution, the worse this handicap.

Another great hindrance to tropical agriculture is the vast

g2 THE HUMAN HABITAT

number of fungi, insects, birds and beasts which devour the
crops or otherwise destroy them. Even in temperate countries
the farmer is often in bad straits because of wheat rust, potato
blight, cut worms, potato bugs, squash bugs, currant worms,
and tent caterpillars. In some places, such as parts of New
England, he is also seriously hampered by crows and deer
which eat his corn, and by rabbits, raccoons and woodchucks .
which destroy his vegetables. In lower latitudes leaf blight,
root rot, hoppers and boll weevils do hundreds of millions of
dollars worth of damage to the cotton fields, while the San
Jose scale is a terrible pest to the orange raisers. As the tropics
are entered, the pests become more numerous and destruc-
tive, until they become well nigh unconquerable unless a very
high type of agriculture is introduced.

The people of cooler climates rarely appreciate the diffi-
culty imposed upon the tropical farmer by the rapid growth
of vegetation. Of course the crops develop with marvelous
speed, but the weeds grow still faster. Anyone who has
struggled with a garden knows that in dry weather it is easy
enough to root up the young weeds and let the sun kill them.
In wet weather, however, not only is it difficult to manipulate
the damp, sticky soil, but even when the weeds are dug up,
they take root again at once. In order to keep them down, the
tropical farmer who practices ordinary hoe culture must work
far harder than the farmer of cooler regions.

This fact, together with the poverty of the soil and its
tendency to become sour or otherwise unfit through the ac-
cumulation of bacteria, accounts for a common but seemingly
wasteful method in large parts of tropical America, Burma,
Indo-China, the East Indies and equatorial Africa. That
method is to cultivate a field a year or two and then abandon
it. The first crop may be good, but the second is much less
abundant aad the third may be scarcely worth harvesting.

TOO WARM AND MOIST 93

Even if the slight supplies of soluble plant food are not ex-
hausted and if the soil still remains sweet, the fields may be
completely clogged by grass. In the Philippines when cogon
grass six feet high gets into a field ? the roots often form so
tough a mat that the weak native oxen with primitive plows
cannot plow it. In Guatemala the weeds sometimes grow so
fast that the corn crop is practically smothered. Or perchance,
when a new field is being prepared, the nominally dry season
is so rainy that after the trees and bushes have been felled they
do not become dry enough for burning before the genuine rainy
season comes again. When that is over, so much new wood
has grown that the work of clearing the land must be done all
over again.

Even if conditions are not so bad as all this, it requires a
high degree of persistence, energy and intelligence to overcome
the handicaps of poor soil, bacterial diseases, insect pests and
weeds on a tropical farm. A corn crop of fifty bushels an acre
can be raised by almost any farmer in central Illinois, but a crop
of that size on the borders of the Amazon or Congo valleys
would be a remarkable example of human energy. All this is
one of the reasons why the standards of tropical living are so
low.

Even when the tropical farmer has raised his crops, he has
more difficulty in preserving them than does the farmer in
cooler lands. One reason for this is the nature of the crops
themselves. Bananas will not keep like apples; corn and
millet spoil more quickly than wheat; and cassava roots and
yams cannot be kept so easily as potatoes. Another difficulty
in storing tropical crops is the nature and abundance of the in-
sects and animals that attack them. It is very difficult, for
example, to make storehouses which are proof against the all-
devouring termite, while thatched roofs which are needed to
shed the rain are a great resort for mice and other little rodents.

04 THE HUMAN HABITAT

Moulds and other fungi likewise develop very rapidly in the
moist warm air which prevails so steadily in many parts of the
tropics. Most people in the northern United States know how
difficult it is to keep food and other products in the damp dog-
days of August. If a few days of such weather produce such
an effect, think what must happen when the dog-days continue
for months.

The problem of draught animals is especially serious for the
tropical farmer. The rapid and rank growth of vegetation
makes strong work animals especially necessary in order to
plow land beset with large weeds or grasses. Unfortunately,
aside from the water buffalo, such animals do not thrive in the
majority of tropical countries. Ordinary European cattle, and
especially horses with their delicate skins, rapidly deteriorate
in tropical countries unless given extreme care. One reason for
this is that every animal has what is known as its optimum cli-
mate, and cannot live beyond certain climatic limits. The
optimum means the condition under which the animal's health
and vigor are greatest; the farther the climate departs from
this, the more susceptible the animal becomes to disease.

Unfortunately, the causes of disease are especially numer-
ous in warm countries. One such cause is the vegetation.
Many tropical grasses are too coarse and stiff for the tender
mouths of European cattle and horses. Others are so rank
and watery that they derange the digestion. In addition to
this, insect pests are especially abundant. The tsetse fly of
Africa is so fatal to horses and cattle that it excludes them from
millions of square miles in central Africa. Ticks are almost as
bad in other places. Even if the insects are not so poisonous
as the tsetse, the stings of flies, ticks, mosquitoes and the like
often irritate horses to the point of frenzy. That diminishes
their strength, increases their susceptibility to disease, and
shortens their lives. The water buffalo, or caribao as it is

TOO WARM AND MOIST 95

called in the Philippines, is indeed free from most of these diffi-
culties. Its optimum climate is warm and moist. Its digestive
system is adapted to coarse, watery vegetation, and its thick
hide, plus the coat of mud with which it loves to encase itself,
make it fairly immune to insects. But unfortunately the water
buffalo is not adapted for the cultivation of dry crops, being
useful mainly for wet crops like rice. For other kinds of agri-
culture, the native humped cattle of India and the allied bateng
of Java are the best available, but they are relatively small,
inefficient and unintelligent compared with the horse. More-
over they are not immune to creatures like the tsetse fly.

The handicaps arising from the difficulties of agriculture are
increased by those of transportation. Even if everything else
were the same, it is probable that the moister tropical countries
would have harder work to maintain good transportation than
would the countries that are cooler. One reason for this is the
rapid deterioration of roads because the warm dampness causes
any material used for hard roads to weather and decompose,
but this is not so bad as the frost farther north. A much worse
trouble is the rapid growth of vegetation which in many tropical
countries makes it difficult to keep ordinary roads and trails
open unless the population is dense. In much of Africa there
are not even trails, let alone roads, through hundreds of thou-
sands of square miles of tropical forest. In a region like Yuca-
tan, after the gatherers of chiclee sap for chewing gum have
been through a forest and tapped all the available trees, the
trails which they make disappear almost overnight. Not only
do new bushes and trees grow up from below, but lianas drop
down from above and effectually close the paths. If a road or
trail is kept free from vegetation it usually suffers from torren-
tial rains which, as a rule, are much heavier than in higher lati-
tudes. Where the trails lie on slopes, the rains convert them
into rocky ruts extremely difficult to traverse; where they are

gg THE HUMAN HABITAT

more level, the rains give rise to seas of mud. These difficulties
are of the same kind as those In other parts of the world, the
only difference being in degree.

Transportation suffers even more than agriculture by reason
of the poor quality of the domestic animals. A place like the
Khirghiz steppes or the prairies of Iowa, where the horse thrives
almost without attention, has an enormous advantage over a
place where horses can be kept alive only with the great-
est difficulty. Even mules do not thrive in the moist tropics,
for the donkeys which are their paternal ancestors are best
adapted to climates drier than those where the horse is at his
best. If civilization in a tropical region advances to the point
where wheeled vehicles and finally motor vehicles are used,
the difficulties still continue. Not only do the rains tear the
roads to pieces, but all sorts of tools and machinery rust very
rapidly.

Some people may say that these difficulties are no greater
than those imposed by snow in higher latitudes. But until
the automobile was invented, snow was a great help in many
regions. The Indian waited until winter to make his longest
journeys because it is so easy to travel over the snow on snow-
shoes. The New England farmer thought it a waste of energy
to haul his winter's wood except when the snow made it pos-
sible to use sledges. Not till civilization had reached a very
high stage and people were easily able to cope with it, did snow
become the nuisance which it now is in cities and wherever
motor traffic is the rule.

All this does not mean that the difficulties of tropical agri-
culture and transportation are insuperable. It merely means
that they are more discouraging than those of the temperate
zone, progress in civilization demands that people raise a
variety of foods and raw materials, and accumulate a surplus
on which to live while making new discoveries and taking new

TOO WARM \ND MOIST 97

steps in advance. It also demands that people be able easily
to travel about so as to get ideas and materials from other
places. All this is more difficult in tropical than in temperate
lands. Moreover the incentive to do so is less than in cooler
countries. Not only is there less need of clothing, shelter and
fire, but the absence of strong seasonal contrasts removes one
of the greatest of all stimuli to activity.

The necessity to hustle around and lay in supplies of food,
fuel, and clothing before the arrival of cold weather is an 1 ex-
tremely powerful stimulant to both physical and mental activ-
ity. It is likewise one of the most potent of all factors in weed-
ing out the kind of people who are too stupid or lazy or shiftless
to provide for their children during the winter. Within the
tropics, on the contrary, although it is difficult to provide much
of a surplus where hoe and tree culture are the modes of getting
a living, it is relatively easy to pick up a hand to mouth living
from day to day. Thus in tropical lands the lazy, indolent
type of man has been able to live and to support a family al-
most as well as has the one who is more industrious. In fact,
although the matter has never been adequately tested, the man
who exerts himself relatively little may possibly have a better
chance of preservation than has the one who exerts himself
strenuously. It has been abundantly demonstrated that in
warm, moist air, a given degree of exertion raises the body tem-
perature and leads to exhaustion more quickly than in cold air.
Such exhaustion probably increases the liability to disease or
causes a diseased person to be more likely to die than is one
who is not thus exhausted. When primitive tribes have mi-
grated to tropical countries, asTias frequently been the case,
those who wanted to be Always on the move, always doing
something, may actually have killed themselves off because
over-exertion has rendered thfem subject to disease. In this
way tropical people may have Become relatively indolent, not

gg " THE HUMAN HABITAT

merely because life is easy, bi t Because the most energetic,
strenuous types have been exterminated.

In the long run, the relatively low level of tropical civiliza-
tion perhaps depends on people's inclination to work even more
than on their ability to work. Ordinary experience, as well as
careful scientific tests like those of the New York State Ventila-
tion Commission, shows that in the steadily warm and often
moist air of tropical countries people do not feel like working
so hard as in the more bracing air of cooler climates. This
applies to mental work quite as much as to physical. Many a
man who works alertly all day at a temperature of 66 becomes
sleepy after a few hours at 80 and simply cannot pursue a
long hard line of reasoning. In this, perhaps, lies the most
serious of all tropical handicaps.

Still other conditions also cause the human animal to be
rarely at his best in tropical countries. His condition is like
that of the horse; he is plagued by tropical insects, even if he is
not in danger from tropical snakes and wild beasts. Anyone
who has ever tried to make his way through tropical bush in-
fested with ticks knows what misery may be entailed. The
black flies of the pine woods of the north are worse for the
moment, but they do not leave such long-continued festering
sores. In the same way the mosquitoes of the northern woods
bite as viciously as those of the tropical forests, but in the
north the bitten person is all right in a day or two when the
swelling disappears; in the tropical regions he is soon groaning
with malaria that will not leave him for years, even if it does
not kill him.

In certain places the mosquito exterminates man almost as
effectively as the tsetse fly exterminates cattle. The way in
which malaria decimated the workers in the early days in
Panama is well known. During the building of the Indian rail-
way from the Portuguese port of Goa to the main British sys-

TOO WARM AND MOIST 99

tern, sixty-three thousand patients were treated for malaria.
When the Tehuantepec railroad was being built in southern
Mexico, work had to be suspended because of the loss of work-
ers through disease.

Malaria is not the only disease which peculiarly handicaps
the tropics. The hook worm disease, although not so fatal,
perhaps does quite as much to reduce efficiency. In a great
many tropical regions, half the population is infected with
hook worm, and practically all have been infected at some time.
How greatly this diminishes people's activity, even when it does
not make them really sick, may be judged from the fact that in
Costa Rica the amount of coffee land cultivated by sixty-six
laborers increased from five hundred and sixty-three acres per
month before they were treated for hook worm disease, to
seven hundred and fifty afterward. In India, Java, British
Guiana, and other places, a similar increase of from twenty-five
to fifty per cent in the efficiency of laborers has been found
after the hook worm was eradicated.

The efficiency of tropical people is also reduced by at least
one other condition, namely, the variety and quality of the
food. The many conditions already described, especially in
the rain forest and the denser Jungle, tend to cause tropical
people to depend on a very small number of food products
the ones that can be most easily raised. That in itself has a
bad effect upon health. In addition, the quality of the tropical
foods is relatively poor. The banana, the melon-like papaya
growing at the top of trees that suggest dark palms, the guava,
bread fruit, cocoanut, mango, are excellent fruits, but for
steady use it is very doubtful whether they equal the apple, or
the orange which, unfortunately, is of poor quality in genuinely
tropical regions.

The main trouble with the tropical fruits, however, is not
their quality, but the excessive amounts in which 'they are

I0 THE HUMAN HABITAT

eaten in the regions where they grow luxuriantly. Many a
child may eat little except bananas for several days in succes-
sion. The root crops and vegetables are likewise inferior.
Manioc (or cassava), yams, pumpkins and sweet potatoes are
scarcely so good a diet as onions, green corn, beans and white
potatoes. The cereals, too, show the same contrast. Millet,
maize and even rice are starchy foods, by no means so well
balanced as rye, barley, wheat and oats. Then too, it is much
more difficult to procure meat, milk and eggs in tropical coun-
tries. The animals best adapted to furnishing meat do not
lay on flesh in warm moist countries; those adapted to supply-
ing milk do not thrive at all well; the " tea-cup " cows of south-
ern China illustrate how little milk they give. Even though
the hen thrives, the other conditions which keep civilization low
have prevented her egg-laying powers from being developed.

Here then is the sum and substance of the situation in by
far the greatest tropical areas. Agriculture in one form or an-
other is practically the only feasible occupation that has thus
far been developed. The handicaps and difficulties of agricul-
ture are decidedly greater than in cooler climates. At the same
time, the warm climate, the constant growth of vegetation, and
the absence of long seasons when no food can be gathered
make the demands of life so few that it is easy to get a, mere
living without much effort. Hence the effect of natural selec-
tion in weeding out people who lack energy, thrift and fore-
sight has presumably been much less than in temperate cli-
mates. This doubtless tends to reinforce the direct effect of
the climate in producing a population among whom the average
degree of energy is relatively low. The prevalent diseases have
a similar effect, and so djDes the type of food.

The net result of all this is that while the difficulties are
great, the stimulus to meet these difficulties and the energy
wherewith to meet them are slight. Thus no matter what the

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TOO WARM AND MOIST IOI

degree of intelligence, or type of civilization, the tendency is
for tropical people to accomplish less than those in lands that
are cooler. It must constantly be remembered, however, that
even in the tropics the differences from place to place are enor-
mous. Where a great number of conditions are highly un-
favorable, as in the dense rain forests, we have primitive sav-
ages like the pigmies. In other places, as in Ceylon, although
many conditions are more unfavorable than in temperate re-
gions, they do not prevent the growth of a much higher type of
civilization, especially if rice culture prevails, as explained in
the following chapter.

CHAPTER VIII

TEE CIVILIZATION OF RICE LANDS

THE places where people live In great numbers, as we have
already seen, fall into two distinct categories, rice regions and
manufacturing regions, but the rice regions contain by far the
greater number of people. If a shaded map showing the
amount of rice per square mile is superposed upon a similar
map showing the percentage of the population engaged in
manufacturing, the result is a map much like that of density
of population. If all the areas having over one hundred peo-
ple per square mile are considered as densely populated, the
rice type of dense population is represented in most of China;
in much of India aside from the northwest and the north cen-
tral part of the peninsula; in the central plains of Burma,
Siam and Indo-China; In the islands of Java, the northern
Philippines, Formosa and Japan; and in Egypt. Two main
areas represent the manufacturing type. One in northwestern
Europe includes most of the region from Great Britain and
France through Germany to Italy, and eastward to Hungary,
Poland, Lithuania, and even 'Ukraine; the other and smaller
lies in the eastern United States from southern New England
and New Jersey westward to Chicago and Milwaukee. Italy
and Japan belong to a transition type combining the character-
istics of the rice and manufacturing areas. All of the rice
areas which are tropical have an unusually high civilization in
proportion to their latitude, although those that are not tropi-
cal are less advanced than some of the other countries in cor-
responding latitudes. The rice type of civilization does not

THE CIVILIZATION OF RICE FIELDS 1 03

differ from latitude to latitude so much as might be ex-
pected.

Does rice really have anything to do with the fact that the
tropical or semi-tropical rice lands support approximately
seven hundred million people, and have a relatively high and
uniform civilization? That cereal certainly feeds mo-re people
than does any other single crop ; its effect upon civilization has
probably been greater than that of any other product except
iron; and it seems to excel all other products in its effect upon
the distribution of population. In order to understand all
this, consider the yield of food per acre from rice compared
with other crops. Few plants except potatoes exceed rice in
their capacity to support a large population on a small area.
In Java, for example, the average yield per acre is something
like 2,000 pounds of rough rice 1 . If we make allowance for
two or three crops per year, as well as for the parts of each
grain not generally eaten by man, and if we remember that rice
can be grown every year without exhausting the soil, it appears
that Javanese rice land supplies four to six times as much food
per acre as does wheat land in the United States. Similar,
although less extreme, conditions prevail in China, Japan,
India and Egypt

The most essential point about rice, however, is not the
amount of food which it yields, but that its cultivation auto-
matically solves many of the difficulties of tropical agriculture
as described in the last chapter. The mere fact that rice re-
quires constant irrigation is a great help in preserving the
fertility of the soil, for new material is constantly brought from
higher levels, while deep plowing is easily possible because the
ground is soft. This obviates the necessity of clearing new
fields every year or two, and enables a given tract of country to
support a far greater population than is possible when large
areas of unused land must constantly be left to grow up to

THE HUMAN HABITAT

bushes. Moreover, the opportunity for concentrating effort on
a single area year after year and of utilizing the streams for
cultivation causes people to gather thickly wherever rice fields
are cultivated. The mere fact that the population is dense and
the land quite fully cleared diminishes the depredations of wild
animals and helps to free the people from certain insect pests
such as ticks. The insects and bacterial pests which attack the
rice itself are relatively harmless compared with those which
trouble such crops as corn and cotton. The fact that the rice
fields are covered with water so much of the time helps greatly
in keeping down the weeds. For storage purposes, likewise,
rice far excels most of the other tropical foods. Because of its
hardness it can be kept almost as well as wheat, for almost no
other kind of tropical food is so resistant to the ravages of in-
sects and fungi.

In addition to all this, the fact that rice is raised in water
enables its cultivators to use domestic animals more freely than
can those who employ other methods of tropical agriculture.
This is partly because oriental cattle and especially water buf-
faloes are fond of wallowing in the mud, and work better in a
wet rice field than almost anywhere else. Another reason is
that rice fields, being soft and almost free from weeds, can
easily be plowed with crude implements and weak work ani-
mals which would be completely balked by the stumpy, weedy,
grassy fields of the people who practice hoe-culture. This last
advantage is of extreme importance. The use of domestic ani-
mals, like that of machinery, vastly increases the work that
each individual can perform and thus raises the scale of living.
When all these conditions are combined it is evident that the
rice raisers have an overwhelming advantage over the people
who merely plant corn, yams and pumpkins in holes punched
among half -burned stumps, and rely half the time upon the
poor food furnished by bananas and coconuts.

THE CIVILIZATION OF RICE FIELDS 105

Even yet we have not touched upon the main reason why
the rice regions are so densely populated and are the most
highly civilized places within the tropics. We have already
seen some examples of the great geographic principle of natural
selection. Let us see how it seems to work in the case of rice.
We have, to be sure, no historic record of just what actually
happened, but there can be little question as to the general
accuracy of our inferences.

Wild rice is widely distributed, but its cultivation apparently
began in India or possibly China. Thanks to some unknown
genius, a group of Asiatics long ago attempted to cultivate this
plant whose wild seeds they had presumably long been gather-
ing. Among those who made the attempt some doubtless suc-
ceeded and others failed. Success then as now may have been
partly a matter of accident^ but in the main it must have come to
those who were intelligent enough to profit by experience, and
who were temperamentally stable enough to work in the hope of
a deferred reward. At first the methods of cultivation were
undoubtedly very crude. As time went on, the rice raisers
learned to smooth off terraces and rim them round with little
walls so that water might stand upon the growing rice for
weeks. They built ditches whereby to bring the water from
the streams. Each day they found it advisable to go around
among their fields to make sure that the water was flooding all
the terraces and to repair the breaks wherever they might be.
This may not sound like a very arduous task, but such work is
extremely irksome and confining for primitive people who have
been in the habit of wandering freely here and there as fancy
dictates in search of wild fruits, seeds and game. Only the in-
telligent, far-sighted and strong-willed, and only those who
were physically and temperamentally fit for steady labor were
likely to persist until the art of raising rice was mastered and
a new and abundant source of food assured.

106 THE HUMAN HABITAT

All this presumably required many generations. During
that time, and for hundreds or even thousands of years there-
after, the art of raising rice spread gradually abroad. It ex-
panded along the southeastern borders of Asia as far as Korea;
it spread to some of the islands of the sea, especially Java, the
Philippines, Formosa and Japan on the one side, and to Ceylon
and Madagascar on the other. To other islands such as Su-
matra, Borneo, Celebes and New Guinea, which at first sight
would seem almost equally well fitted for rice, the art spread
little or not at all Whether this was due to difficulties arising
from poor soil, droughts and the like, or to the backward char-
acter of the native inhabitants, or to the failure of these re-
gions to receive sufficient immigration from rice-raising lands,
has not yet been convincingly determined. Westward from
India the spread of rice was checked by the dry climate. Rice
did indeed reach Mesopotamia in the sixth century B.C. or
thereabout, but neither there nor in Egypt did it become im-
portant until modern times.

Wherever rice culture took root two opposing groups must
generally have arisen. One consisted of people who had
enough intelligence, adaptability, patience and physical apti-
tude to carry out the rigorous and exacting routine of rice-
raising; the other, of those who lacked these qualities. At first
the two groups doubtless intermarried, but there was presum-
ably a growing tendency for each to live by itself. Moreover,
since social distinctions almost invariably follow the lines of
occupation, they doubtless cooperated with geographical sepa-
ration to check intermarriage, so that the groups must have be-
come more and more differentiated. The wild, careless group
presumably did not increase greatly in numbers because its re-
sources did not expand. It still persists among the more primi-
tive inhabitants of the remoter mountains and forests of Java,
the Philippines, Formosa, and other rice-raising areas, and

THE CTVILTZATION OF RICE FIELDS IO/

among most of the population of the huge islands of Sumatra,
Borneo, and New Guinea. In such places, even though hunting
has ceased to be a main mode of life, the crude cultivation of
coconuts, bananas, yams and such easily raised products pro-
vides a far less certain basis for progress than does the more
arduous rice culture. Similar conditions are still dominant
among the Indians who roam the vast tropical lands of South
America. So long as these simpler modes of life persist, 'they
seem to doom people to remain few in numbers and very low in
civilization. They apparently persist not only because they
are handed down by social Inheritance and training, but because
the inherited temperament of such people probably makes it
difficult for most of them to settle down to steady work.

Wherever the cultivation of rice becomes well established,
on the contrary, there is presumably a constant premium upon
industry, forethought, and orderly government. The family
that carefully looks after its terraces and dikes, pulls out the
weeds, adds new fields, and saves good seed for the next year, is
much more sure to have abundant food than is the careless
family. The children are less likely to suffer from malnutri-
tion and disease, and more likely to grow up and have children
of their own. Moreover, the rich men of this type are the ones
who can afford to purchase other wives and thereby increase
the number of their children. Similar conditions are of course
more or less true of every kind of agriculture, but rice culture
exerts an especially strong selective effect because of the de-
mands of constant irrigation.

For this same reason, as well as because the population be-
comes dense, the rice people must evolve an orderly form of
government. People whose entire food supply for many
months may be ruined by the lack of water for two or three
days cannot afford to be squabbling and fighting all the time.
They must agree upon methods of dividing the water fairly

J0 g THE HUMAN HABITAT

and uniformly year after year. They must submit to regular
officials to whom is entrusted the regulation of the water sup-
ply. Those whose fiery tempers or individualistic tempera-
ments prevent them from submitting are likely to be ostracized
or banished. Their case may be like that of an Afghan from
near Kabul whom I once hired as a caravan man in Trans-
caspia. He and his brothers quarrelled with the neighbors over
the division of water. First one party and then the other cut
the ditches of their opponents. Finally, my man killed one
of the neighbors and himself fled the country. In the course of
many generations, such events weed out the kind of people who
are not of an orderly disposition, willing to submit to author-
ity.

We cannot trace the whole process step by step, but there
appears to be abundant evidence that wherever rice is raised,
not only do the standards of living rise and the qualities of
thrift and industry increase, but a selection occurs which gradu-
ally weeds out those who will not work, and who will not sub-
mit to authority. All this produces a people who may be slow
according to our standards, but who are comparatively steady,
industrious, faithful, and law-abiding. The Javanese, Siamese,
Hindus, Chinese and Japanese all exemplify these traits. In
this respect they are a strong contrast to the non-rice-raising
people of equatorial Africa, New Guinea, and the Amazon
Basin, and likewise to the Mongols and Ainus north of China
and Japan. So different are they from the others that Hindu
coolies in South America and Africa are usually considered
much better workers than are Africans or American Indians.
Where they have been introduced, tropical agriculture improves
decidedly. They cause British Guiana, for example, to stand
much higher than its neighbors in the production of rice, sugar
and other tropical products. In Natal, in spite of their good
qualities as workers, their introduction has raised a serious race

THE CIVILIZATION OF RICE FIELDS 1 09

problem. The Oriental exclusion laws of our Pacific coast are
another place of the same problem.

Let us now inquire into the geographical conditions under
which rice culture is most likely to take place. The Dutch
possession of Java, lying a little south of the equator, serves as
an admirable example. Java is smaller than Iowa. Nearly
half of its surface is occupied by rugged volcanoes and other
mountains. Yet it supports fifteen times as many people as
Iowa. Moreover, its population has increased enormously
only five million a century ago, over thirty-five million today.
Already Java has nearly as many people as France which is
four times as large, and the end is not yet. Most marvelous of
all, this equatorial island, with its teeming masses of human
beings, is still practically self-supporting. Only a handful of
people live in the cities, and only a few of the rest are engaged
in trade or industry. The vast majority nearly thirty mil-
lion live on tiny farms and raise food. They raise enough
so that more than a thousand people are supported on an aver-
age square mile of cultivated land. Two acres of such land
per family, and less in many cases, is all that the Javanese can
claim as a source of livelihood. How is this possible? Of
course the policy of the Dutch government enters into the mat-
ter, but we shall not discuss that, because similar conditions of
land and people lead to extraordinarily dense populations in
other places where the natives rule themselves, as in China and
Japan. The presence of the Dutch in Java, like that of the
British in India, and the French in Indo-China, intensifies con-
ditions which already prevail.

The physical conditions which enable a country to support
the maximum number of people without help from outside in-
clude level plains, deep rich soil, high mountains, abundant
water throughout much of the year in the form of either
rain or rivers, and high temperature and abundant sunshine

HO THE HUMAN HABITAT

throughout a long growing season. Java has all of these, and
so do China, Formosa, India, Egypt, Japan and Italy every
one of the regions where both rice and people are especially
abundant. The mountains of Egypt, to be sure, are located
far away in central Africa, but that is a minor detail. The out-
standing fact is 'that aside from portions of the great manu-
facturing regions and very limited areas close to a few great
cities elsewhere, practically every country which has over two
hundred people per square mile possesses the physical qualities
just described, and raises a relatively large amount of rice.
The only important exceptions are the islands of Mauritius
east of Africa, and Porto Rico in the West Indies. They pos-
sess the physical characteristics of rice lands, except that
the mountains are low and do not produce long-continued
floods. They also have a population of over two hundred per
square mile, but sugar takes the place of rice as the main
crop.

The necessity for level or only gently sloping land is so ob-
vious that we need not discuss it. Nevertheless it is not so
necessary as might be supposed. Even if there is not much
level land, the rice-raising people's method of agriculture makes
it natural for them to manufacture such land by terracing the
mountain sides. That is one reason why such countries can
support so many people. The terraces save the hillsides from
being denuded of soil in the way that is so disastrous in our own
South. In Java, however, although most of us picture the
island as mountainous, one rides hour after hour over rolling
plains, partly the old sea floor and partly the work of rivers.
Of course, the mountains are never far away and that is one
reason why Java can support so many people.

But level plains are of little use in themselves, no matter
how deep their soil. The Amazon Basin has some of the most
vast and level plains in the whole world, while New Guinea

THE CIVILIZATION OF RICE FIELDS III

likewise has extremely level plains along large parts of the
coast. The trouble in those cases is that the plains are too
flat, and too near the level of the ocean. Consequently they
are practically always water-logged, the soil never has a chance
to become aerated, or to be subjected to the useful bacteria
which break it up in such a way as to prepare it for useful
crops. The importance of the soil increases as one goes from
colder to warmer climates. In Spitzbergen it makes little dif-
ference whether the soil is pure quartz sand containing prac-
tically no plant food, or the richest black volcanic ash. No
crops will grow anyhow, by reason of the climate. In middle
latitudes differences in the soil become important, for a state
like Illinois shows a remarkable contrast between the rich-
soiled central areas and the poor-soiled areas a few score miles
farther south. In tropical regions, where the climate is espe-
cially favorable to vegetation, the quality of the soil becomes
extremely important. To it is due no small share of the dif-
ference between densely populated Java and Jamaica on the
one hand, and sparsely populated savage New Guinea and
Amazonia, if we may so call it, on the other.

Even within Java itself and in regions where there is no
question of water-logging, the mere difference in the quality of
the soil produces an immense difference in population. In Java
the rural population on the best soils of the lowlands, omit-
ting the towns, reaches the extraordinary density of over one
thousand persons per square mile in a volcanic strip extending
across the center of the island from Tegal on the north to
Djokjakarta on the south. In an area of about eight hundred
square miles this rises to fifteen hundred, and in another area
of three hundred square miles to nearly seventeen hundred.
All of the people thus included are either farmers or tradesmen,
artisans and so forth who serve the farmers and are in reality
supported by the soil. Almost nowhere else in the whole

THE HUMAN HABITAT

world do the soil, topography and climate combine to make it
possible to support so many people on a given area.

Only two hundred miles to the west, on the north coast, the
region of Krawang, some two thousand square miles in area, is
quite as favorable as the most densely inhabited parts of Java
so far as the relief of the land is concerned, and has almost as
good a climate. Regions close by on either side have a rural
population approaching a thousand per square mile. But Kra-
wang is not enriched by fresh volcanic soil, and has a poor
lateritic soil. Accordingly, the rural population falls to three
hundred and eighty per square mile. That may be enormously
dense according to the standards of most parts of the world,
but it is sparse for Java. The difference between the laterite
and the fresh volcanic material causes the population in Kra-
wang to be only a quarter as great as in Klaten, two hundred
miles farther east. Even if we make the fullest allowance for
differences in the climate and relief of these two districts, the
soil alone still appears to make it possible for three people to
get a living in one area and only one in another. Let an equally
poor soil be water-logged for thousands of years and we get
a condition like that of the Amazon Basin where agriculture is
practically impossible for primitive people. Thus the quality
of the soil reaches its highest importance in warm wet regions
where mankind has relatively little energy and is still in a low
stage of culture so that he cannot adopt elaborate devices in
order to improve it. That is where the volcanoes do the most
good. Java and Japan without their volcanoes, old and new,
would be quite different places.

It is easy to see how plains and good soil are necessary if
the population is to be dense in rice-raising regions, but why
are high mountains needed? The answer is two-fold; the
mountains are needed partly to keep the soil from being ex-
hausted, and still more to supply water. In Japan and Java

THE CIVILIZATION OF RICE FIELDS 113

their importance in enriching the soil is especially great. Some-
times the volcanoes cover the fields with lava and ashes; they
even destroy villages; but on the whole they are highly benef-
icent. Volcanic soil, especially of the dark types, is generally
rich in the mineral constituents which are often called plant
food. Java's active young volcanoes resemble those of Japan
In containing large amounts of soft and friable material, easily
eroded by rain, especially in the parts where the slopes are cul-
tivated. If the underlying rock were solid, this would soon put
a stop to further cultivation on -the mountains. But as things
are, erosion simply exposes fresh soil for the use of the moun-
tain farmers, and carries other fresh soil down to the plains.
Except among the upper parts of the virgin forests on the
steep south side of Java, there is scarcely a clear stream in the
whole island. That injures the scenery, but increases the fer-
tility, for in every rice field a new layer of fresh soil is deposited
each year. At the same time a great amount of organic fer-
tilizer is deposited on the fields, for all over Java the universal
custom is to use the running streams as privies. It matters not
at all that the same stream is used lower down for the washing
of people and clothes, for cooking food, and for drinking. Of
course such a system tends greatly to spread typhoid, dysen-
tery, and other diseases, but it certainly conserves the fertility
of the soil. The results would be far worse, were not tea used
very widely and most food eaten cooked.

The mountains do much more than this. Good soil alone
will not lead to a dense population. Rain is likewise needed.
Java would get a fair amount of rain even if it were level, for
it is an island and lies near the equator. But the mountains
there, as in every other rice region of dense population, greatly
help the matter. They cause the inblowing air to rise and give
up its moisture at seasons which otherwise would be dry. They
also act as reservoirs so that springs keep the streams flowing

II4 THE HUMAN HABITAT

even in the dry season. In the same way India's dense popu-
lation depends largely upon the tremendously heavy rains
which fall not only upon the Himalayas but on the plains and
on the border ranges of the peninsula. China receives very
heavy rains both on its plains and on the high western moun-
tains which feed its great rivers. Chosen and Japan are like-
wise remarkable for the torrential showers which water their
mountains in summer, while the snows of winter in the high-
lands provide abundant water to irrigate the rice fields in the
spring. Although Egypt itself gets no rain worth mentioning,
the high, rainy equatorial regions which feed the Nile play the
same part as do the mountains of Java. Even in Italy much
of the density of the agricultural population is due to the Ap-
pennines and especially the Alps which condense the atmos-
pheric vapor and send it earthward to form streams that can
be used for irrigation. In all these regions the mountains and
the rain join hands to water the lowlands, and incidentally to
enrich them.

Still another condition is needed if a region Is to support an
extremely dense population. That condition is a growing sea-
son so long that more than one crop can be grown each year.
Even in the more northerly rice-raising regions such as Korea,
Japan and northern Italy, the summers are long enough and
warm enough for two crops of some sort, although not of rice.
In many areas of dense population and abundant rice, a stead-
ily high temperature, averaging not far from 80. all the year
in Ceylon and Java, often makes it possible to cultivate three
crops per year, two of rice and one of some other quick-growing
sort.

Before we can fully understand the density of population
and the stage of civilization in the rice lands, the people must
likewise be considered. One fact worth noting is that as a rule
they need less food than do Americans or Europeans. This is

THE CIVILIZATION OF RICE FIELDS IIS

partly because most of them are small, as is especially well
known among the Japanese but as is also true in southern
China, much of India, Java and elsewhere. It is also in' part
because the percentage of young children is high. In the
United States in 1920 less than twenty-eight -out of every hun-
dred persons were under fifteen years of age, whereas in Java
the number was forty-one. The warmth of the climate still
further reduces the food requirements. Not only are tropical
people less active than those of cold countries, but they do not
need so much fat and carbo-hydrates in order to keep warm.
Where all these conditions combine, as among the Javanese,
it is probable that the consumption of food by the average per-
son is not much more 'than half so much as among Americans.
In addition to all this, meat is not much used, and is not greatly
needed. This also helps to increase the density of population,
for at least two or three times as much land is needed to pro-
duce a given food value in meat as in vegetable products. In
view of all this it appears that a given area of cultivated land
produces food for twelve or fifteen times as many people in
Java as in the 'United States. And what is true of Java is true
to a less degree of each of the other rice areas where the popula-
tion is extremely dense.

Even yet we have not gotten at the full reason why the rice
lands are so thickly populated. The rural population of Java
is approximately thirty times as dense as that of Iowa in pro-
portion to the cultivated land, but purely physical and physio-
logical conditions seem to explain only how it can be twelve or
fifteen times as dense. The remainder of the difference must
be due mainly to the standards of living. The people of the
thickly crowded rice-raising regions do not require so much as
do the people of Europe or the United States in the way of
clothing and shelter because most of them live where it is rel-
atively warm even in winter. Woolen clothing, furnaces, coal,

H6 THE HUMAN HABITAT

and cellars are only a few of the things that are needed for
personal comfort in cold regions, but not in warm. Even in
Japan this is largely true. It is not true in Chosen and northern
China, where the winters are severe, but those countries only
half belong to the rice type, for other grains such as wheat,
barley, and millet assume high importance.

Not only the needs but the desires of the rice raisers are
generally small. They are content with a scale of living which
would seem impossible to the vast majority of Europeans and
Americans. The immediate cause of this difference is doubt-
less found in social customs and long established habits, but
why have such customs and habits arisen? Would they have
been the same if the geographical background had been dif-
ferent? In all the main rice-raising countries the climate is so
warm, damp and monotonous for a considerable part of the
year that people do not have much energy. Even in Japan peo-
ple rarely display the restless energy which often makes a
Minnesota farmer almost resent every interruption. A series
of hot days often gives us an inclination to work slowly. In
countries like Java, Siam, India and southern China, a similar
inclination lasts for generations. One of the things that most
impresses the traveler is the leisurely way in which almost
everyone does his work there; the people either sit around
laughing and talking to a degree that seems to us inordinate,
or else move listlessly. They do indeed go to their work early
and keep at it late day after day, but the vigor with which they
work is low compared with that of the people in western Europe
and the northern United States.

All over the world, as we shall see in a later chapter, the
standard of living has a close relation to health and physical
vigor. The man whose temperament is inert, either by nature
or by reason of an enervating climate, may be stirred by new
desires, but after the imperative needs for food and shelter and

"

THE CIVILIZATION OF RICE FIELDS II*J

the like have been satisfied, he is likely to feel that the satis-
faction of most of those desires does not justify the extra work
which they demand. When such a spirit becomes common, as
happens almost universally in regions that are hot and damp,
the march of progress is bound to be slow. There arises, as it
were, a social inheritance of inertia in addition to the personal
inertia of the individual. The old ways are good enough, not
merely because they do not demand much exertion, but just
because they are old. Thus the climate creates a tendency
toward a small amount of work, and low economic standards,
which become petrified in a conservative social system. Then
climatic inertia and the social system work together to resist
further changes.

Where the standards of living thus become petrified at a
low level, the density of population is bound to be great if a
large supply of food is easily obtainable. It is simply a case of
mathematics. So much land is available, so much food can be
raised per acre, and so much is needed per person. The popula-
tion is bound to increase until these three conditions balance
each other. In a rice region, each family, let us say, needs only
half as much food as in a certain more active region; each acre
supplies six times as much food as in the active region; and
each family is content with no more goods than can be bought
if it raises one-fifth more food than it consumes. The man in
the active region can raise only one-sixth as much per acre,
the average member of his family consumes twice as much
food, and the other needs which he considers imperative de-
mand that he raise surplus crops amounting to twice as much
as he and his family eat. In the one case the land will support
thirty times as many people as in the other, and the contrast
will be like that between Java and Iowa.

Such then are the physical and sociologic features most
favorable to an extremely dense population. As a rule, the

Ix g THE HUMAN HABITAT

more nearly they are approached, the denser becomes the
population and the higher the civilization compared with oth-
ers in similar latitudes. New Guinea, as we have already im-
plied, probably has failed to become a rice-raising region partly
because of the water-logged condition of the soil along its
coast and the lateritic character in many other regions. The
same is true of the great Amazon Plain and of parts of Africa.
Nevertheless, the highly important factors of distance and mi-
grations must not be overlooked. The people who practice
rice culture have never shown such energy In spreading their
civilization over the world as have the Europeans. Even the
Chinese never established genuine colonies at any great dis-
tance until European modes of transportation made it easy for
them to do so. Thus in the future It Is not improbable that
rice culture will spread far more widely than at present.

Suppose the course of human progress should make it pos-
sible for the islands of Sumatra, Borneo, Celebes and New
Guinea to be inhabited by rice-raising people. The condi-
tions of soil, relief and rainfall would doubtless make it im-
possible to support a population as dense as that of Java.
But almost certainly the population might be as dense as in
the most sparsely populated sub-district of Java. There, in
the western province of Bantam, the administration district of
Lebak, nearly thirteen hundred square miles in extent, is ex-
traordinarily rugged and has soil of only ordinary quality. It
is part of the only region in Java where the people are so wild
and independent that Europeans are not allowed to travel with-
out special permits which are hard to get. Nevertheless, the
density of the population is approximately one hundred and
sixty per square mile. If New Guinea, Celebes, Borneo and
Sumatra were populated with rice raisers even as densely as
that, they would support more than one hundred and thirty
million people instead of only twelve million as is now the case.

THE CIVILIZATION OF BICE FIELDS

So great is the power of rice culture not only to supply food
but to stimulate industry and select hard-working types for
preservation, that the chances are that the introduction of a
rice-raising population would in due time raise the density to a
still higher figure.

The corresponding parts of Africa and South America could
probably each support a far greater number. If rice culture
should spread as widely as possible, the world's population
might perhaps be increased by fifty per cent. Such an increase
would scarcely be more phenomenal than the increase of the
population of Java seven-fold in a century. It might take
place with little or no disturbance to the rest of the world. But
whether it would help the rest of mankind in its food problems,
and otherwise, is quite a different question which we shall con-
sider later. Our purpose here is merely to point out that in the
past, and perhaps in the future, the conditions that favor the
greatest density of population and the greatest aggregations of
human beings are those which make rice cultivation feasible
for people with tropical appetites, desires and modes of living,
and yet with a high degree of culture according to tropical
standards.

CHAPTER IX

TROPICAL PLANTATIONS AND FUTURE FOOD SUPPLIES

DURING the last century or two a new type of agriculture,
the tropical plantation, has arisen within the tropics. A tropi-
cal plantation is usually most interesting and attractive to the
northerner. Perhaps it is a sugar plantation in Brazil. In some
convenient site, in the midst of a gently rolling topography, a
tall; smoking chimney marks the location of the " central " or
mill, surrounded by many smaller buildings, sheds and the like.
Off to one side stands a group of pleasant houses, the larger and
more pretentious of which are surrounded by pretty gardens
set with trees enough to provide shade but not enough to shelter
damp spots fit for mosquitoes. They are the homes of the
white manager, chemists, engineers and others who form the
brains of the organization. Farther away, perhaps out of sight
of the mill, the brawn of the organization dwells in the thatched
huts of a native village.

Outside the mill little tram cars on rails scarcely two feet
apart are being pushed up one by one to the unloading plat-
form. There colored men with more or less shouting and sing-
Ing throw the canes out of the cars. Others cast them onto a
moving platform which feeds them to large rollers that press
out an astonishing amount of sweet, watery juice. Inside the
mill the atmosphere is steamy and enervating; stickiness is the
pervading characteristic; the sap as it flows into the containers
is sticky; the steaming kettles are sticky; and stickiest of all
are the slow streams of brown molasses that are gathered into
hogsheads, and the great bins where yellowish sugar, not yet

TROPICAL PLANTATIONS 121

refined, is being shovelled about like coal Over everything
there hangs a curious heavy smell compounded of the pleasant
scent of fresh cane, the smell of molasses and sugar, and the
odors of machine oil, steam and burning bagass, as the Span-
iards call the squeezed cane fiber which is used for fuel.

Out along the many little tramways which radiate in all di-
rections, one perhaps passes first a field of cane stubble, green
to be sure, but looking like a weedy, poorly cut mowing field
combined with a corn field where the stalks have been cut but
only half carried away. Next comes a field where a new crop
of canes has sprouted to a height of two feet, very rank and
flourishing. The grass and weeds have likewise grown so well
that a small army of brown-skinned men must be put to work
cutting them down. Elsewhere another group is plowing the
earth and burying bits of cane to start another crop. The
next field is full of splendid great canes like corn stalks twice
as high as a man. On one side its beauty is being spoiled,
for a gang of cutters armed with big sharp machetes, as the
heavy knives are called, is hacking away, felling a cane at each
stroke. Where labor is cheap the leaves are stripped from the
canes by hand, the useless tops are cut off, and only the neat
green or reddish stalks are piled on the little tram cars. Where
labor is expensive, as on the Australian plantations where white
men do the work, the ripe fields are set on fire to burn off the
leaves and tops. That saves work, but the blackened canes
discolor the sugar so that more work is needed to refine it. But
the work of refining is done by machines and is cheap.

On another plantation, far away in Ceylon, the lovely tints
of row after row of pale green tea bushes, almost as high as a
man, cover slope and hollow for miles near the crests of the
mountains. The highest plantations, four or five thousand feet
above the sea, become so cool during the nights of the dry
season that sometimes a few acres of blackened bushes in some

I2 2 THE HUMAN HABITAT

hollow tell the tale of cool descending air that has brought a
frost. In the unfrosted fields, an army of women with scanty
clothing gracefully draped around them are plucking the ten-
derest leaves, while men bare to the waist pick up great baskets
on their shoulders and carry them to the drying sheds. There
the baskets are weighed, the tea is dried by artificial heat, and
another group of women and girls sort it ready for market. A
pleasant smell of green -leaves and tea fills the air, and the
women laugh and chat as they work.

A little removed from the factory and its many outbuildings,
perhaps on the open top of some sightly knoll with a glorious
view over miles of tea fields and dark green tropical forests, one
finds the home of the owner or manager. Not far away, half
hidden, but not too closely surrounded by trees, a few other
houses of the white staff may be clustered. There you will find
Englishmen of intelligence, sometimes with their wives and
families, but often alone. Many of them, like some of the
Americans at the sugar plantation, have traveled widely, know
more about world affairs than do we who stay at home, and can
talk most interestingly. But all too often, even men of this
type are so bored and tired that they join their less intelligent
countrymen in spending much of their spare time in the lightest
kind of reading, in gambling, drinking, and otherwise trying to
forget that they are exiles, as they feel themselves to be. They
are in the tropics to make money, but not to make homes; their
great desire usually is to succeed well enough to retire and go
home.

Fly now to Venezuela, and visit a banana plantation, in a
rolling, heavily forested region a few miles inland from the
coast. It is something like a sugar plantation when looked at
from above, for its characteristic feature is great areas of big-
leaved green canes interspersed by the tiny threads of narrow-
guage tram lines. But here the canes are nearly twenty feet

TROPICAL PLANTATIONS 123

high and six inches in diameter at the butt. The heart of the
whole plantation is the big, cool-looking, heavily-screened
house of the manager, a house with wide pleasant porches,
standing on a grassy knoll where all the trees have been re-
moved In order to invite the breezes and avoid the insects.
Around it are other houses of the same sort, not quite so good,
but fit for American families. On another knoll the hospital,
mainly used by colored people, but with a section for the white
Americans, forms a second center. Some distance away are
the native quarters. Generally they do not stand on such high
land as those of the foreigners, nor so far from trees and stand-
ing water, and they are by no means so carefully screened. Yet
even there, much pains has been taken to insure proper drain-
age and sanitation, so that the conditions of health are far su-
perior to those in an ordinary native village.

Each morning a troop of dark-skinned men leaves the village
and goes out on the tram lines. They are drawn by a tiny
engine operated perhaps by a white man who lost his job else-
where through too much drink, or by an eager youth who
longs for novelty, travel, and adventures. Arrived at a place
where the weeds and bushes between the rows of banana canes
are two or three feet high, part of the gang jump off to hack
down the surplus vegetation and give the bananas the full right
of way. Part go on to a section where many of the huge canes
are bent downward under the weight of fat green bunches con-
taining perhaps a hundred and fifty fruits. Two or three
men take each row. If a bunch looks ready for market, the
" cutter " lifts his long knife tied to a pole and slashes the
trunk a few feet below it. As the bunch topples over, he eases
it down with his pole onto the shoulders of the "backer. 77
Other quick strokes of the machete sever the stem and lop off
the long flower bud. Then the backer hands the bunch to the
" mule man," or himself lays it down beside the tramway.

124 THE HUMAN HABITAT

We might visit a coffee plantation in Brazil, a cocoa planta-
tion in the Portuguese island of San Thome off the coast of
Africa, a rubber plantation in the Malay Peninsula, a model
quinine plantation in Java, a coconut plantation in the
Philippines, or a clove plantation in Zanzibar. In all cases the
essential features are the same; namely, a product which is
desired by the white man; relatively inefficient tropical labor;
and white overseers, superintendents and skilled technicians.

The primary reason for tropical plantations is that the white
man desires certain products which grow in warm countries and
nowhere else. The people of the tropics, however, have so little
initiative and are so content with life as it is, that they do not
raise these products in sufficient quantities, no matter what
price the white man offers. Accordingly, the white man goes to
the tropics and tries to stimulate production. His first method
was merely to establish a trading center here and there, and
try to persuade the native people to bring what he wanted by
offering them cloth, beads, knives and the like. Calcutta,
Singapore, Batavia and Hongkong at one time were little more
than centers of this sort. This kind of trading did not long
prove successful because the tropical people were not tempted
sufficiently.

The white man's next step was to employ his own agents,
who traveled about picking up small quantities of tea, coffee,
bananas or other products from the natives. He likewise began
employing natives to gather wild products such as rubber,
quinine and mahogany in the jungle. This likewise proved un-
satisfactory. The quality of both the cultivated and the wild
products varied enormously, and was often highly inferior.
Moreover, the supply was hopelessly irregular.

The only remaining alternatives were for the white man to
give up or else acquire land and begin to raise the things that he
wanted. During the last few generations the plantations thus

TROPICAL PLANTATIONS 125

established not only have increased enormously In number and
size, but new products have constantly been added. Only a
generation or two ago wild rubber was an important article of
commerce; but none whatever was cultivated. Today rubber
is one of the chief plantation products, and the wild article has
almost disappeared from commerce. In the same way, no
longer ago than the World War most of the palm trees whose
coconuts furnish copra and palm oil either grew wild or were
the property of natives, each of whom owned only a few. To-
day plantations of coconut palms are fast assuming great im-
portance.

We hear so much about tropical products and tropical trade
that we often greatly exaggerate their importance. How many
truly tropical products are really important and how great is
our trade in them? To begin with the genuine food products,
sugar is far and away the leader the most important of all
tropical products whether foods or raw materials. The United
States imports close to four 'hundred million dollars' worth of
it, the largest of all our imports. Coconuts in various
forms, including copra, palm oil, and the shredded meat, come
next among tropical foods, but are worth only forty or fifty mil-
lion; then come bananas, worth scarcely half as much. All the
other tropical foods such as pineapples, Brazil nuts, tapioca,
rice, and chicle for chewing gum are only worth about half as
much as the bananas. Moreover, although coconuts and their
oil are employed for confectionery, salad oils and butter sub-
stitutes, most of the oil is not used for food, but goes into such
commodities as soap and candles. Other fruits, aside from the
banana, count for practically nothing as supplies of food,
although long lists of them can be made. People often think
that tropical fruits are more important than they are because
the orange, lemon and grapefruit are mistakenly included.
As a matter of fact, these are primarily semi-tropical and

126 THE HUMAN HABITAT

rarely are found in good quality within the tropics. Aside from
sugar, all the genuine food products imported into the
United States from tropical countries are worth about as
much as the peanuts raised in the country. In fact so far
as food value is concerned, the peanuts rank far ahead. Ob-
viously then, the tropical countries thus far do very little in the
way of feeding us.

But even if the tropics do not feed us, they at least make us
enjoy our meals. That is why we spend a quarter of a billion
dollars each year for coffee, and something over one-tenth as
much for cacao and likewise tea. Spices were the first of such
stimulants or appetizers to be sought, but today, in spite of
their large number, all of them together are worth scarcely half
as much as the tea. Even if we add what little tropical tobacco
we get, all the quinine, the coca from which drug-store drinks
are made, and every other tropical stimulant or drag that we
can think of, or that the Department of Commerce can haul
into its statistics, all the rest of them, including the tea, and
cacao, and even adding the palm products, are not valued at a
third as much as the coffee alone.

But surely sugar and coffee are not the only highly important
products which we get from the tropics. How about all the raw
materials? Well, what are the raw materials? Which of them,
for example, fall among the thirty most important products im-
ported into the United States? Only rubber, worth two hun-
dred million or so, and jute worth sixty million. With the jute,
which comes mainly from the province of Bengal in India,
should be put perhaps fifteen million dollars worth of Manilla
hemp from the Philippines and nearly as great a value of sisal
from Yucatan. Each of these fibers is peculiarly adapted to a
special climate, and can be raised easily almost nowhere else.
Aside from this, we do indeed import a few million dollars
worth of cotton from India, Mexico, and other tropical coun-

TROPICAL PLANTATIONS 127

tries, and some dye wood and mahogany from South America,
but the wood is not a plantation product.

The whole matter sifts itself down to this; we obtain from
tropical regions three really important articles, sugar, coffee
and rubber. Raw silk is the only other import that vies with
them in value, but that comes from farther north in China and
especially Japan. We also import two other stimulants tea
and cacao which are moderately important; three fibers
jute, Manilla hemp and sisal; one fruit the banana; one nut
the coconut; and a group of spices. That completes the list
of important tropical products which come to the United States
or any other country. All together they comprise about one-
fourth of our imports. The importation of any or all of them
save sugar and rubber could come to an end without doing us
any serious harm. To put it in another way, we could anni-
hilate our trade with all tropical countries except Cuba, whence
comes most of our sugar, and the Dutch and British East
Indian region, whence comes our rubber, without seriously in-
commoding ourselves, and without cutting off our foreign trade
by more than about twelve per cent. All our tropical trade
together amounts to no more than our trade with China and
Japan, and to less than that with Great Britain, or Canada
alone. Why then do we make such a fuss about It? Why do
we hear far more about increasing our tropical trade than about
increasing any other kind?

The answer seems to be partly that the plantation products
which give rise to almost the whole of the trade between tropi-
cal lands and others are mainly luxuries, and almost everybody
spends far more time and energy in deciding about luxuries
than about necessities. Another reason is that while trade with
other regions increases of its own accord with the growth of
population, tropical trade increases only when the white man
acts as the motive force at both ends of the line. Almost no de-

128 THE HUMAN HABITAT

gree of demand for rubber, for example, would cause large ad-
ditional supplies to be available unless the white man himself
starts plantations. In the third place, all the agitation about
tropical trade is perhaps justified by the fact that nowhere else
In all probability are the ultimate possibilities so great.

To turn back now to plantation agriculture, one curious fact
about it is that practically all of the plantation products are
perennials and the majority grow on trees or bushes. Jute, to
be sure, is an annual, but it is not a plantation product to any
appreciable extent, being raised in little plots by the Hindu
farmers of Bengal. It is mentioned here merely because it is
one of the chief articles exported from the tropics. Thus in his
first attempt at cultivation within the tropics, the white man
practically limits himself to trees, bushes and large succulent
perennials. He is following in the footsteps of his tropical
predecessors. Like the primitive savage, he began his exploita-
tion of the tropics as a collector, who wandered around here and
there picking up what he could of the products prepared by
nature. Then be undertook to cultivate the trees and bushes,
just as the primitive tropical people first began cultivating the
trees that supply coconuts, bananas, bread fruit, and the like.
As yet he has not reached a stage corresponding to that of the
hoe culture of the tropical people who raise cassava, yams,
sweet potatoes and pumpkins. Whether he will take that next
step, and then go on to raise annual crops of cereals such as
corn, millet, and especially rice, no one can yet tell. The
chances are that he will do so. If these new steps mark as great
a degree of progress for the white man within the tropics as
they have marked for other races, one wonders what will be the
final outcome. Will there arise a new and highly advanced type
of civilization which stands as high above the white man's pres-
ent tropical level as the rice-raising type of culture stands
above all other types of culture that have thus far prevailed
within the tropics?

TROPICAL PLANTATIONS 129

Leaving these speculations, let us inquire as to how widely
plantations are distributed within the tropics. The answer is
that they are highly restricted. Only a few plantations are lo-
cated as much as a hundred miles from the ocean, and the
great majority are almost within sight of the coast. But all
coasts by no means fare alike. Islands are the seat of tropical
plantations far more than is the mainland. Cuba, Jamaica,
Porto Rico, Mauritius, Ceylon, Sumatra, Java, the Philippines,
Formosa and the Hawaiian Islands, together with the island-
like Malay Peninsula furnish by far the major part of all
plantation products. To these we may add a few coastal
areas such as those around the Caribbean Sea, the palm-
raising coasts of central Africa, and some parts of the coasts
of India and Indo-China. Even the coffee region of Brazil
is not far inland. The white man's penetration of tropical
lands with his plantation agriculture is scarcely farther along
than was his occupation of the New World and Australia when
practically no settlements had been made as far inland as the
Appalachian Mountains, even in North America. Is this in
any respect an augury of the future?

We shall not attempt to answer this question, but there are
several factors which greatly delay the white man in penetrat-
ing far inland. One of these is the climate. The health of the
white man is one of the greatest difficulties in establishing plan-
tations. In general, the seacoasts are more healthful than the
inland regions, for the ocean winds, especially the trades, blow
far more steadily than the land winds, thus tempering the heat
and driving away the insects. Where a small island lies in the
Trade Wind belt, on the borders of the tropical zone, as do the
Hawaiian Islands, Porto Rico, and Luzon, the conditions of
health are far superior to those in the interior of a great tropical
land mass like Africa or South America.

Although the relatively healthful quality of the tropical
coasts is highly important, it has not necessarily been the main

130 THE HUMAN HABITAT

factor In determining the location of the plantations. The
original reason for their location on islands and near the coast,
and one of the main reasons even now, is accessibility. The
people of European races went to tropical countries in ships,
and ships are the only means of carrying away the products. It
is vastly easier to go from one plantation to another by water
than by land, for the difficulties of tropical transportation are
very great in the regions where the rainfall favors planta-
tions. With this may be put the fact that level land of the
kind needed for sugar is more abundant near the coast than
farther inland, while the coconut palm, like the human being,
seems to thrive best where there is a touch of sea salt in the
air.

Another interesting feature of tropical plantations is the
large percentage that are located upon hilly or even moun-
tainous land. In the Philippines, Java, Sumatra, the Malay
Peninsula and Ceylon, as well as in Jamaica and on the main-
land of the Caribbean countries and Brazil, many of the best
plantations are on fairly hilly land at altitudes of several thou-
sand feet. Practically all coffee and tea are raised in such re-
gions, and so is a good share of cacao, spice and rubber. It is
chiefly the sugar plantations which are located on the lowlands,
although banana and coconut plantations show a similar
tendency. The reasons why sugar needs level lands are ob-
vious. The extreme weight and bulk of the sugar cane and the
necessity of transporting it to the mills make the use of rough
land almost impossible. This is likewise true to a less degree
of bananas, but their perishable quality also makes it advisable
to raise them near the sea coast so that no time shall be wasted
in getting them to market. Palm trees grow as well and can be
harvested almost as easily on slopes as on level land, but the
direct effect of sea salt seems to be important in making them
thrive near the ocean.

TROPICAL PLANTATIONS

If a plantation product weighs little In comparison with its
value, as is true of tea, coffee, cacao, spices, and even rubber, a
fair degree of hilliness is no great disadvantage. In fact, It Is
often an advantage, for it insures good drainage during the
heavy tropical rains, thereby helping both the plants and the
people who work among them. But hilly and mountainous re-
gions have another advantage. The white man who establishes
a plantation at a moderately high altitude among the hills finds
himself In a relatively healthful location. Not only is the tem-
perature lower than at sea level, but there are more apt to be
breezes on the hilltops than In valleys or where the land is level.
For this reason, the man whose plantation is high up and whose
house is on an open location at the top of the hill is decidedly
more likely to succeed than is Ms neighbor In a lower and more
malarial location. The less level lands have another advan-
tage, especially where rice culture prevails, for they are rela-
tively cheap. Good rice land is always expensive, even where
everything else is cheap. Values as high as five or six hundred
dollars per acre are not uncommon In almost all the main rice-
raising lands. So the white man, in order to save expense, as
well as to preserve his health, finds it advisable to take himself
and his plantations to the hills.

Still another condition, the quality of native labor, imposes
a serious limitation upon the location of tropical plantations.
Since the white man cannot or will not work with his hands
within the tropics, he must employ native labor, or else import
people like the Chinese. The efficiency of tropical labor, as we
have already seen, varies enormously. Hunting tribes like the
Amazon Indians, Pigmies and Negritos, are almost useless as
laborers; they are here today, gone tomorrow. People who
practice hoe culture in Its simplest forms, like some of the
people of Africa, are a trifle better, but very unreliable. Those
who raise millet and corn, as do the Negroes near the Niger, and

132 THE HUMAN HABITAT

the Indians of the highlands of Central America, are more re-
liable. Yet even they may behave like the Maya Indian in
Yucatan who failed to do the last day's work on a two weeks'
job. " Why didn't you come to finish your work and get your
money? " asked the white employer when the man at last
turned up. " Oh, we had nothing to eat, so I spent the day fish-
ing." He chose the chance of getting a few fish by nightfall in
place of the certainty of two weeks' wages. The best of all
tropical workers are the rice raisers. That is probably the
main reason why the great majority of tropical plantations are
found in the East Indies and the neighboring coast of south-
eastern Asia. There the white man takes the best available
lands near the rice fields and hires the rice raisers to work for
him. Sometimes to be sure, when he raises sugar, he actually
cultivates the rice lands. He would do so much more fre-
quently were it not for governmental regulations. In Java, for
example, the government does not allow the rice land to be used
for sugar more than one year out of three, nor can the white
man purchase it.

In the New World, most of the labor on tropical plantations
is performed by Negroes imported from Africa, or by a mixed
race in which the blood of the people of Spain adds an element
of enterprise and industry rarely found in either the Negroes
or the Indians. On the whole, however, the tropical labor of
America, aside from the West Indies and southern Brazil where
the percentage of white blood is high, is by no means so satis-
factory as that of southeastern Asia and the more advanced
East Indies. Its unsatisfactory character is one reason why
Great Britain and Holland, with their rice-raising dependencies,
have had a practical monopoly of rubber, while Java raises
nearly ninety per cent of the world's quinine. Most of the
world's tea, as well as hemp and jute, come from that same
general region.

PLATE XV. RUINS OF QUIRIGUA IN A FOREST CLOSE TO A GREAT BANANA PLANTATION.
The ancient Mayas of Guatemala developed a high civilization in a region of
dense tropical forest where today the heavy rains almost prohibit the raising
of ordinary food crops like corn.

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TROPICAL PLANTATIONS 133

One of the most Interesting questions connected with tropi-
cal plantations and with, the tropics as a whole is whether they
will some day furnish other parts of the world with large sup-
plies of food. Many people believe that the vast unused tropi-
cal lands of South America and Africa, not to mention those of
the great islands of Borneo and New Guinea, are capable of
producing enormous quantities of food as well as raw materials,
and thereby supporting the rapidly growing population of the
manufacturing countrie| of Europe and North America. Per-
haps something like this may happen in the future, but not
unless a new mode of tropical development appears. Thus
far the tendency has been in exactly the opposite direction. A
hundred years ago, when tropical plantations were in their
infancy, the tropical people were self-supporting. Cuba,
Jamaica, Porto Rico, and Java never thought of bringing food
from abroad except in minute quantities for a few white peo-
ple. Today quite a different situation prevails. The produc-
tion of food has declined in comparison with the population.
When a white man starts a plantation, he needs perhaps a hun-
dred laborers. He pays them such good wages thai not only
they but their families cease cultivating their own land. Food
must at once be brought from somewhere else. So the planter
begins to import corn or wheat in the ships which carry away
his sugar or tea. That is the easiest way to feed his workers,
for he does not see how he can take time to improve the local
methods of agriculture, or increase the industry of the tropi-
cal people around him.

Of course the matter is not quite so simple as all this, but that
is the gist of it. Cuba today is scarcely more self-supporting
than England; in proportion to the needs of the people, the im-
portation of food in the two regions is approximately the same.
Even though vast quantities of sugar are exported, together
with some pineapples and other foods, Cuba today is much

134 THE HUMAN HABITAT

more of a drain on the food-producing resources of the temper-
ate countries than she ever was before, and her tendency to
require flour, meat and fish from other countries is increasing.

The same is true of every other place where tropical plan-
tations have been highly developed. Where rubber, tea, coffee,
cacao, spices and ropemaking fibers are raised, the products
have no real food value whatever, yet the people who raise them
must be fed. The wheat farmer in the Dakotas, Argentina,
Russia and Australia is more and more called upon to feed not
only his own country and the manufacturing countries of Eu-
rope, but the brown-skinned tropical men who raise the coffee
and sugar that he drinks for breakfast, the afternoon tea and
cocoa used by his more prosperous neighbors in the city, the
cloves that his wife sticks in the juicy roast ham, the jute bags
and the sisal or Manilla twine that he uses to tie up his wheat,
and the rubber on which he rides to town. This may be good
or bad, but people surely ought to understand it and not think
that by developing the tropics we are increasing the world's
food supply. We are -doing just the opposite we cause the
population of the tropical countries to increase enormously,
seven-fold in a century in Java while the food production in-
creases only a little, if at all.

There is, of course, no certainty as to how long the present
tendency will continue. Some day, as we have said, the white
man may evolve a type of agriculture as superior to the present
type of plantation methods as rice culture is to primitive hoe
culture. In that case he may raise the staple kinds of food as
well as luxuries, which provide little nutriment. Suppose, for
example, that the vast plains of the Amazon could be drained
and plowed so that the soil would be aerated. Suppose that
they could be converted into rice fields where the machinery
now used in Louisiana could be applied on a vastly larger scale.
In that case, the work of one efficient man with a tractor might

TROPICAL PLANTATIONS 135

easily produce as much food as is now produced by a hundred
industrious rice raisers. If that should happen, the world's
supply of food in proportion to the population would increase
enormously. Whether that is possible no one can yet tell. It
depends partly on the degree to which the white man can live
permanently in the tropics, partly on the degree to which the
energy of tropical people and their desire for higher standards
of living can be increased, partly on the soil, especially its
degree of weathering, and partly on the lines where man's in-
ventive genius next exercises itself. For the present we can
merely point out that plantation agriculture is a new thing in
the world; it is thus far mainly limited to a few islands and sea
coasts where the conditions of transportation, health, relief and
labor are especially favorable. Will it spread, flourish and
evolve as the civilization of Europe has spread, flourished and
evolved in the New World discovered by Columbus, or as the
oriental type of rice culture spread long ago in the mainland
and islands of southeastern Asia?

CHAPTER X

HEALTH, ENERGY AND PROGRESS

THE greatest of all problems in human geography Is con-
cerned with the degree of progress in different parts of the
world. How far does this depend upon geographic conditions?
Before we answer, we must define progress; for to one man it
may mean greater faith in God; to another, more trade; to a
third, more money to spend on art or pleasures. For our pres-
ent purposes we may define progress as increasing ability to
dominate the forces of nature.

This may not be the highest type of progress, nor the one
that is now taking place most actively. The Hindus, with
their Meals of quiet, mystical contemplation, may perchance be
groping their way toward a new sense telepathy and thus
be far out-distancing the rest of us. That would be no more
strange than the evolution of the sense of vision. Hundreds of
millions of years ago, when sight did not yet exist, a mere
sensitiveness to light presumably caused some lowly organism
to move toward the sun and thereby gain food or energy.
Later, when many small mutations, or a few large ones, at last
gave birth to the sense of vision, the organism's whole mode
of life must have changed. A creature with eyes, living in a
world of light and among creatures which cannot see, possesses
an almost incredible advantage.

It may be that minds like those of certain Orientals who
appear to be in touch with distant or dying friends may behave
like an ordinary radio set. Waves of energy set up in one mind
may make an impress upon others. If this should develop into

136

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HEALTH, ENERGY AND PROGRESS 137

a genuine sense of telepathy, it would revolutionize the world
even more fully than sight has done. No one could harbor
evil thoughts, for the moment he put them into words, even
though unspoken, they might become known to others. Peo-
ple who were not pure and true and noble in thought as well
as deed would be avoided as we now avoid those whom we know
to be criminals. Little by little they would presumably die
out. On the other hand, groups of people, even though physi-
cally far apart, could all tune in on the same wave-length and
thus solve problems which now are utterly beyond the capacity
of a single mind. All this, of course, is pure fancy, but it may
bring home the fact that our particular line of progress is by no
means the only or the greatest line. Nevertheless, since the
control of nature is today the dominant aspect of human prog-
ress, we shall use it as our criterion.

Why, then, does man's power to control his physical sur-
roundings differ so much from place to place? Is it mere coinci-
dence that the English can fly in the air, sail beneath the ocean,
manufacture machines by the million, and talk by radio, while
not a man among the Kamchadales ever thinks of doing these
things? Perhaps, but only in the same sense that the migration
of sorely persecuted and highly skilled weavers from France and
Belgium to eastern England rather than Kamchatka was an ac-
cident. Even if they had gone to Kamchatka, the cold winters,
the chilly wet summers, the sparsity and barbarism of the popu-
lation, the poor means of communication, and the difficulty of
providing surplus food and raw materials, would scarcely have
permitted them to stimulate that country's industrial life as
they stimulated England's.

If accidents are not the main reasons for progress, are those
reasons found in institutions like Christianity and democracy,
in the special ability of certain races, and the development of
certain fundamental institutions, or in the position of plains in

138 THE HUMAN HABITAT

reference to oceans, rivers, land routes, Iron, coal and climate?
The truth seems to be that each and every one of these condi-
tions plays its part. The task of the student is to determine
where each stands in the chain of cause and effect.

This brings us back to the first chapter of this book. Cli-
mate paints the fundamental colors on the great human canvas,
as we have seen again and again. The other geographic factors
paint less widely distributed colors, which in certain places are
so intense that the climatic pattern is obscured. But a new so-
cial institution and, still more, a new type of human culture
may sweep over the whole canvas or some part of it, and alter
the entire aspect of the picture. Yet however much this may
obscure the old tints, it does not eliminate the geographic pat-
tern. We have already seen examples of how occupations, dis^
eases, food, clothing, transportation and the like conform to
the main outlines set by climate and to the details set by other
factors such as the soil. Such conditions represent man's in-
direct response to climate. They appear most clearly among
people in the lower stages of development. The next step is to
study man's direct response as shown by the effect of climate
upon the human body and thus upon the way in which man's
comfort, health, energy and initiative give him more or less as-
sistance in the great task of making progress along the line
of control over the forces of nature.

In order to see what the situation really is we need a map
of human progress. Statistics and opinions are the only feasible
means of making such a map. Both have been tried, and both
are beset with difficulties. A reliable statistical map of prog-
ress in the world as a whole is as yet impossible because some
countries have no statistics that are worth using; a great many
have no statistics that throw much light on progress; and even
where reliable statistics of the right kind are available, the
methods of compiling them are often so varied that comparl-

HEALTH, ENERGY AND PROGRESS 139

sons are almost impossible. Nevertheless, a fairly good statis-
tical map of Europe can be prepared, and a much better one of
the United States, as will appear in a later chapter. These
maps are so much like the corresponding maps based on the
opinions of well-informed men that we may safely infer that the
same would be true if we had a statistical map of progress in
the world as a whole. A map of progress based on the opinion

ISO 150 ISO 60 80

120 150 180

180 .160 120

From-" Business Geography." Courtesy of John Wiley and Sons.
FIG. i. WORLDWIDE DISTRIBUTION OF CIVILIZATION-.

of about fifty well-informed people in fifteen countries, includ-
ing China, Japan, Canada, the United States, Australia and ten
European countries, is shown in Figure i. The general fea-
tures are just as one would expect. The regions surrounding
the North Sea in Europe and extending east into western Rus-
sia and south into Italy are heavily shaded, indicating a Mgh
degree of progress. The northern United States and southern
Canada are also heavily shaded, as is the Pacific coast and part
of Australia and New Zealand, together with Japan.

Geographers have again and again made maps of race, re-
ligion, government, and many other factors, and have com-

140 THE HUMAN HABITAT

pared them with the map of progress. Certain marked resem-
blances are visible, but discrepancies are equally obvious.
Coal, for example, is undoubtedly a great factor in human prog-
ress. Nevertheless, a map of the coal produced per capita in
various countries and states bears little real resemblance to one
showing the degree of progress or even the per capita amount
of manufacturing. In England, Belgium and Pennsylvania,
coal, manufacturing and progress are closely associated; but
Switzerland, Sweden, Massachusetts and California, where
there is no coal, show far more industrial development than do
West Virginia and Wyoming where the production of coal per
capita is two or three times as great as in Pennsylvania, or than
China and Siberia where the coal available in the ground is
more abundant than in any other countries except the United
States and Canada. So it is with soil, plains, races, Christian-
ity, and a hundred other conditions. Each of these is closely
associated with progress, but their distribution over the earth's
surface is very different.

A map of climate, or rather of climatic energy, as we may
call it, resembles a map of progress far more closely than does
a map of any other factor which may be a cause rather than a
result of the distribution of progress. The way to make the
climatic map is to find out what each climate does to peo-
ple's health and energy. This has been done In part through
investigations as to the speed and accuracy with which physi-
cal work in factories and mental work in schools is carried on
under different conditions of weather. Another way has been
by experiments to determine the conditions under which peo-
ple's physical strength and comfort are greatest and the speed
with which they decline as the conditions depart from this op-
timum. Still a third way is by comparing the number of
deaths in many countries and cities with the general climate
or with the weather during the day, week or month before the

HEALTH, ENERGY AND PROGRESS 14!

death occurred. The more accurate these various lines of re-
search have become, the more thoroughly they agree in show-
ing that man is like all other animals. Under certain optimum
conditions his physical and mental capacities are at a maxi-
mum; his power to work is greatest; his initiative highest; and
his ability to resist disease correspondingly high. Any de-
parture from these conditions means less efficiency both men-
tally and physically, poorer health, and a higher death rate.

A final definition of the best climate for human health and
activity has not yet been made, but the essential points are ap-
proximately as follows: (i) A fairly strong but not extreme
contrast between summer and winter is needed, the summer
temperature averaging not much higher than 65 for night and
day together. This appears to be the temperature at which the
white race is physically most active and healthy. The winter
temperature out of doors should average not much below 40 ,
for this is the temperature at which people with our type of
food, clothing, shelter, and occupations appear to be most ac-
tive mentally. (2) There must be rain at all seasons. This
does not mean constant rain, but enough so that the air is
moderately moist much of the time. If the air is dry for any
long period, people's health is not so good as when it is damper.
Abundant statistics in many regions demonstrate this in spite
of the popular opinion to the contrary. That opinion probably
has arisen because people confuse the beneficial effect of the
outdoor life in dry climates with the effect of the dryness it-
self, or of the dust which comes with the dryness.

(3) Constant but not undue variability of weather is almost
as important as the right conditions of temperature and hu-
midity. Among factory workers and students, for instance, it
has been found that if the temperature of one day is the same
as that of the preceding day which generally means that the
other conditions are likewise uniform people's work is not

142 THE HUMAN HABITAT

so good as If there Is a change, especially a drop of tempera-
ture. The health of the community and the death rate vary-
in the same way, a drop of temperature being almost invari-
ably beneficial, unless it be very extreme. This is true in
winter as well as summer, and even if the actual temperature is
so low as to be harmful if continued. The point of the matter
is that the change is exhilarating. Like a cold bath it stimu-
lates both body and mind, provided the cold conditions do not
last long enough to induce a chill. Changes in sunshine and hu-
midity as well as in temperature are probably a stimulant, al-
though their effect has not been accurately measured. The
wind likewise appears to have a stimulating effect, provided it
is not too strong. The gustiness or irregularity which usually
characterizes moving air acts like a constant series of little cool
spells, each of which is refreshing provided always that they
do not become too severe and frequent. The failure to appre-
ciate the great importance of variability in the weather is one
of the main reasons why the pervading effect of climate and of
changes of climate is even yet only dimly appreciated.

Variability of atmospheric conditions arises partly from the
alternation of day and night, partly from the seasons, and
partly from the passage of areas of high or low atmospheric
pressure, especially the ordinary storms of the temperate
zone. Other things being equal, people's health is apparently
best where there is considerable variation between day and
night. Such variability is especially valuable if the mean tem-
perature and humidity are both high. It is at a minimum over
the oceans in low latitudes; the maximum occurs in middle
latitudes far from the sea where the air is dry and at seasons
when day and night are nearly equal in length.

The variability due to the march of the seasons is probably
much more important than that due to day and night. We
have already spoken of its value in stimulating foresight and

HEALTH, ENERGY AND PROGRESS 143

thrift, but it appears to be highly valuable in its direct effect on
health. Few conditions are more stimulating than the change
which occurs when summer temperatures averaging 65 to
70 F. for day and night together are followed by weather
when the thermometer begins to drop to 50 or 40 at night.
The net effect of a change in the other direction in the spring,
after cold weather, is also favorable, although a sudden warm-
ing up is debilitating and temporarily causes lassitude and a
high death rate.

The storms which form the third great element in producing
changes in the weather appear to be particularly valuable.
Perhaps this is because they include variations not only in
temperature, such as are the primary feature of day compared
with night and even of season compared with season, but in
sunshine, wind, humidity and cloudiness. A moderate storm
such as may sweep across almost any part of the United States
in the spring or fall, with a fairly warm day of rain followed
by a cool, sparkling day of sunshine, is like a veritable tonic
to both body and mind.

Such storms prevail abundantly in only a small part of the
earth, a belt in each hemisphere. The main axis of the northern
belt enters North America from the west a little north of the
Canadian border, but the belt itself has a width of perhaps
five hundred miles or more north of the axis and fifteen hun-
dred south of it. As the belt crosses North America eastward
it becomes more intense in longitudes where the axis lies in the
great plains from Alberta to Manitoba, and still more so when
the longitude of Ontario is reached just east of the Great Lakes.
Then, with diminishing intensity, it proceeds eastward south
of Newfoundland to Europe. There the North Sea countries
receive the most storms, although their storminess is not so
great as that of North America. Northern Italy has a storm
area of its own a little separate from the main belt, and so does

144 THE HUMAN HABITAT

Scandinavia. In Russia and the regions east of Italy the
storminess greatly declines. Western Siberia is indeed trav-
ersed by a moderate number of storms, and it is there that
wheat farming and railroads have become abundant, but prac-
tically all the rest of continental Asia is rarely traversed by
ordinary storms. The continent is so big that it destroys most
of the atmospheric whirls or traveling areas of low pressure
which constitute genuine cyclonic storms. This is highly
significant; it means that the inner regions of Asia
where civilization is low are handicapped by lack of storms
as well as by undue extremes of aridity and temperature.
On the Pacific coast of Asia, storminess revives a little,
while Japan Is blessed with fairly abundant storms at all
seasons,

In the southern hemisphere the storm belt is very strong
and well-defined. Unfortunately it lies too far south to do
much good to mankind, for most of the storms circle around
the Antarctic continent, touching practically no land save the
cold southern tip of South America.

In addition to the more frequent kind of cyclonic storm
found in the two temperate belts of climate there is another,
the tropical hurricane, or typhoon. This kind always origi-
nates in low latitudes, -and moves westward instead of eastward
at first. At this stage In their history, such storms often pro-
duce violent wind and rain. Nevertheless their stimulating
power Is weak because, while the wind and rain may be very
harmful, the changes of temperature are too mild to make
much difference. Moreover, such storms occupy smaller areas
than those in higher latitudes which are often a thousand or
fifteen hundred miles in breadth.

In addition to this, tropical hurricanes are so rare in any
one place that between one visit and another a score or a
hundred ordinary storms may visit a region in the storm belt

< *0

HEALTH, ENERGY AND PROGRESS

145

farther north. It seems a curious irony of fate that the tropi-
cal hurricane which often does extreme damage in tropical
countries should become an agent of good in higher latitudes,
but such is the case. A great many hurricanes swing away
from the equator as they approach the lands; then they re-
curve more and more, spread out over a wider area, become less
intense, and finally before reaching latitude 40 or so become
well-behaved, stimulating eastward-moving storms which not
only help to make the summers healthful, but provide rain for
agriculture. The Atlantic coast of the United States receives
many such storms, while a large share of the cyclonic storms
which make Japan unique among Asiatic countries are of this
type.

The combined effect of temperature, humidity, seasons, and
storms upon health and energy Is summed up in Figure 2 . This

From " Business Geography." Courtesy of Jobn Wiley and Sons.
FIG. 2. WORLDWIDE DISTRIBUTION 01 CLIMATIC ENERGY.

shows how much climatic energy, as we may call it, the average
person of European race would have if his energy and health
depended on climate alone. The corresponding maps for other

146 THE HUMAN HABITAT

races have never been made. They may differ a little from
the map before us, but apparently not much. In the United
States, for instance, the Negro students at Hampton Institute
in Virginia are at their best when the air is not more than four
or five degrees warmer and a few per cent moister than the
optimum for the white man. The difference between their
optimum and that of the whites is nothing like so great as be-
tween the climates where the two races long dwelt before com-
ing to America. For Cubans of mixed white and colored blood
nearly the same is true, while the optimum for the Japanese
seems to be almost the same as for the white race. Hence it
appears that although racial differences doubtless exist, they
are slight; the same general optimum applies to all namely
a climate with a decided seasonal swing but without great ex-
tremes of heat, cold, aridity or humidity, and with frequent
moderate changes due to cyclonic storms.

A comparison between Figures i and 2 is highly significant.
It shows that the areas of rapid progress and favorable climate
are practically identical. The most prominent features are
two great high centers in the northeastern United States and
northwestern Europe* Away from these, in all directions, both
climatic energy and civilization decline in essentially the same
fashion in both maps. Even in the most favored latitudes be-
tween forty and fifty degrees from the equator there is a slight
decline toward the dry interior of the United States and a great
decline toward the far drier and vaster interior of Asia. On
the Pacific Coast in both cases, there is a revival of health and
progress, for the region from Los Angeles to Vancouver in
America and the Japanese fringe of islands off the coast of
Asia are peculiarly favored in both respects.

North and south of the main areas of good climate and
great progress, both maps show a rapid falling off until the
lowest conditions are reached in the cold regions of high lati-

HEALTH, ENERGY AND PROGRESS 147

tude ? In the centers of the great deserts, and in the regions oc-
cupied by the densest tropical forests. In other words, the
least healthful and invigorating climates are found in the very

regions where dwell the people whom we have described as

lowest in the scale of civilization.

CHAPTER, XI

THE INTERPLAY OF CLIMATIC AND HUMAN CHANGES

IP only our two maps of progress and climatic energy were
before us, we should have little hesitation in concluding that,
barring the effect of recent migrations, the general distribution
of human progress agrees with that of climatic energy. But
the past, as well as the present, must be considered. If the
climate of today is the main determinant of the areas of most
rapid progress, as we believe to be the case, why was the dis-
tribution of progress so different in the past? Surely no one
would claim that the map of civilization as it was two thousand
years ago looks like the present map of either civilization or cli-
matic energy.

The difficulty which thus arises had been met and largely
settled before the close relation between civilization and cli-
mate had been thoroughly worked out. The climate of the past
does not appear to have been quite the same as that of the
present. Even in our own time, there are marked fluctuations
from year to year. Thus the year 1925 will long be remem-
bered for its sudden hot spell all over the United States in early
June. The next year will be remembered especially for a hur-
ricane which wrecked Miami in Florida, and for a combination
of weather conditions which nearly ruined the South by pro-
ducing a bumper cotton crop; but it was equally notable for its
mild winter up to about the middle of February and then for
a cold, raw period of two months which sent the death rate
thirty or forty per cent above the normal The year 1927 will
be remembered not only for its Mississippi floods, but for its

INTERPLAY OF CLIMATIC AND HUMAN CHANGES 149

relatively warm winter, followed by a cool spring and early
summer, a condition which produced the lowest death rate on
record.

Thus far we have spoken only of minor climatic pulsations.
There are longer ones of almost every degree of intensity. The
so-called Bruckner cycle, highly irregular in length but aver-
aging thirty-three to thirty-five years, may cause periods of as
much as ten years to average distinctly rainier or cooler than
normal, while similar periods average warm or dry. Thus in
England the years 1885 to 1892 were unusually cool, especially
in winter. During those eight years the months from Decem-
ber to April fell below the average temperature in thirty-five
cases out of forty. During the next eight years, on the con-
trary, no less than sixty-three of the ninety-six individual
months were warmer than the average. In the United States
abundant rains occurred almost everywhere for several years in
the early eighties, while droughts were equally widespread from
about 1891 to 1895.

Above the Bruckner cycles in the scale of length and inten-
sity come irregular periods lasting hundreds of years. A period
of this kind in the fourteenth century was marked by a series
of cool moist summers which produced one crop failure after
another in England, and finally resulted in dire famine. The
same thing happened in Norway and Iceland. Agriculture re-
ceived a blow from which it did not recover for generations.

On the other hand, the seventh century after Christ was phe-
nomenally dry, so that many formerly habitable regions on the
borders of the desert were finally abandoned after straggling
for centuries against the irregular progress of aridity. Evi-
dence of an earlier moist period is found in ruined cities, aque-
ducts, gardens, public baths, canals, terraced fields, abandoned
roads, hostelries and bridges in places where at present there is
no appreciable water supply, or at least so little that the popu-

150 THE HUMAN HABITAT

lation cannot be a tenth as great as formerly. Similar, but less
convincing and accurate evidence is found in historic records
of famines, crops, the dates of harvest, and the like. More re-
liable, but less easily dated evidence appears in old strands of
salt lakes which for decades or centuries received enough water
so that they rose many feet above their present level, compelling
roads to make long detours to circumvent their deep bays, or
dashing their waves against submerged ruins where the marks
can still be seen. Some of these lakes disclose ruins that are
even now buried beneath the water, so that we know that some-
times their level must have been lower than now as well as
higher. Evidently, in the course of centuries the climate has
suffered pulsations from wet to dry and back again.

The general opinion seems to be that the most reliable record
of the climate of the historic past is found in the rate of growth
of the great Sequoia trees of California. The growth of the
woody layers of trees varies from year to year in response to
the climate; that is why the annual rings differ so greatly in
thickness and also in quality. In the high Sierras of California,
where grow the Sequoias, the chief, although not the only, factor
in determining the rate of growth is the amount and season of
rainfall. By measuring the rings in the stumps of four or five
hundred trees whose date of cutting is known, it has been pos-
sible to construct a climatic curve for California. Some of the
trees were only a few hundred years old when cut, but three had
lived more than three thousand. Nearly a hundred were close
to two thousand years of age so that a fairly reliable record is
available back to a date before the beginning of the Christian
era, and a moderately reliable record for several hundred years
earlier.

This record applies primarily to California, but is a help in
determining the climate in other parts of the world. When it
was constructed, a surprising thing became evident in the fact

INTERPLAY OF CLIMATIC AND HUMAN CHANGES 1 51

that Its main fluctuations closely resemble those of a curve of
climatic changes in western Asia prepared on the basis of ruins,
lakes, and the other lines of evidence described above. Then
the growth of the trees was compared year by year with modern
records of rainfall at Jerusalem. The two agree quite closely,
especially when minor fluctuations are disregarded and the
main trend for several years is considered.

Such an agreement is consistent with a great body of facts as
to the relation of the climate in different regions. The earth's
surface is spotted with what may be called climatic centers, that
is, areas of more or less permanent high or low pressure. In all
the high-pressure areas of a certain type, the fluctuations from
year to year in pressure, temperature, and even rainfall are
practically identical. In an opposite type of low-pressure areas
the same is true, but the fluctuations are the reverse of those in
the high-pressure regions. Intervening areas naturally display
irregular fluctuations.

All this agrees with independent conclusions based on a study
of the climate of the past. In Guatemala, for example, the final
abandonment of the ancient Maya ruins and the northward mi-
gration of the center of Maya culture into the drier region of
Yucatan appears to have been hastened and perhaps rendered
inevitable by increasing rainfall. This presumably accentu-
ated the difficulties of agriculture and transportation, and
rendered the tropical diseases more virulent. The Mayas, it
will be remembered, were the only people in the western hemi-
sphere to invent the art of writing; they may well be called the
Greeks of the New World. It may be highly significant that
their northward migration finally culminated about the middle
of the seventh century at the time when the Arabs burst forth
from Arabia under the impetus of Mohammedanism. In both
cases some human factor, such as the rise of a great leader,
strife with neighbors, or zeal for a new religion, may have been

152 THE HUMAN HABITAT

the Immediate cause of a great historic movement. Neverthe-
less, in Arabia we have abundant evidence that prolonged and
terrible drought had made the Arabs restless. They were not
only willing but eager for a leader and a cause which would aid
them in leaving their desert homes and ravaging the more
fertile lands round about. Whether a similar social condition,
due to excessive rainfall, prevailed among the Mayas on the
tropical borders of the New World we cannot yet say, but the
idea can by no means be lightly dismissed.

To go back to the Big Trees, they furnish interesting sugges-
tions concerning events at many other times and in many other
lands. For example, the oldest tree of all appears to have en-
dured an extraordinarily dry time in its early youth. Of course
the evidence of a single tree does not amount to much. Never-
theless, it is interesting to find that this tree appears to have
been almost killed by prolonged drought at the very time when
various lines of evidence indicate a dry period in the lands
around the eastern Mediterranean. In the Bible this dry pe-
riod seems to be recorded in the so-called plagues which Moses
is reported to have brought upon Egypt. If the miraculous ele-
ment is eliminated, the rest of the biblical record appears to be
a straight-forward and convincing narrative of exactly what
would happen if the Nile fell to an extraordinarily low stage.
In addition to the migration of the Israelites who invaded
Palestine, many other migrations are recorded at this same time,
twelve or thirteen hundred years before Christ. They are just
the sort of thing that normally occurs during great periods of
drought.

At a later time, the trees record a period of heavy rain during
which Babylonia, Assyria, Syria, Palestine, Egypt and finally
Greece all rose to a high level of progress. Ultimately, how-
ever, a new period of drought, migration, war and misery set in
after the days of Alexander the Great. Trouble seems to have

INTERPLAY OF CLIMATIC AND HUMAN CHANGES 153

prevailed almost everywhere about two hundred years before
Christ, as the very time when a period of rapid decline in growth
is recorded in the Big Trees. At that time the Chinese were
impelled to complete the Great Wall which they had been build-
ing piecemeal for two generations or more. Its purpose was to
keep out the marauders who had continually invaded China
from the deserts to the north. In the third century before
Christ these marauders seem to have become far worse than
formerly, while drought and famine apparently afflicted the
Chinese to an unusual degree. The nomads of the desert pre-
sumably found themselves in such straits because of the dry-
ness that they continually made raids upon their agricultural
neighbors to the south. Even the marvelous Chinese wall did
not suffice to keep them out, for the northern barbarians again
and again overran China and imposed their rule upon it. In
Greece and Rome at this same time depopulation and the de-
generation of agriculture took place at an extraordinarily rapid
rate. Palestine endured a period of great distress which prob-
ably had much to do with preparing the Jews to follow the lead
of the Maccabbees in their desperate revolt against the Ro-
mans.

Some good authorities have supposed that the decline of
agriculture in Italy at this time, about two centuries before
Christ, was due to the exhaustion of the soil. This view is un-
tenable; there is not the slightest reason to suppose that such
deterioration would produce so sudden a change, or that it
would occur simultaneously in Italy, Greece, Palestine and
other places. Still less is It probable that a decline in the
growth of cultivated plants in those regions would suddenly
occur because of the depletion of the soil just when a similar
decline in wild trees and grasses was occurring because of lack
of rain in California, China and elsewhere. Moreover, the soil
of China, Japan and India, although used for thousands

154 THE HUMAN HABITAT

of years has not led to any such results by reason of exhaus-
tion.

A century or two later, Increased rainfall was coincident with
one of the most peaceful periods that ever came to Rome the
reign of Augustus when the Temple of Janus was closed for the
first time in two hundred years. Christ was bom in Nazareth
of Galilee at about that time, and Palestine was prosperous.
All this suggests that if the Zionists would restore Palestine to
its former glory, they must be careful not to choose a time like
the dry epochs about thirteen hundred and two hundred years
before Christ, or six and a half centuries after Christ. They
must choose epochs of abundant rainfall and storminess such
as apparently prevailed for centuries between 1 100 and 300 B.C.
and for decades in the Fourteenth Century of our own era.

Space forbids us to continue this record of climatic pulsa-
tions. For our present purpose the important point is that the
climate of the earth is always fluctuating. There is almost no
such thing as a normal climate, for the farther back we go the
greater become the fluctuations. The extremes of the historic
period were much greater than those observed since records
have been kept, but were themselves exceeded by those which
prevailed during the climatic stages that have marked the pe-
riod since the culmination of the last ice age. Yet those in
turn were mild compared with the huge pulsations belonging to
the glacial period with its repeated recurrence of glacial and
interglacial epochs.

Evidently then, a map of climatic energy in 400 B.C. when
Greece was in Its glory, would be different from a map of the
same kind either today or thirty thousand years ago when the
last gladation was near its height. So far as we can judge,
although opinions differ, the most important feature of climatic
pulsations is changes in the location and intensity of the main
areas of atmospheric pressure and of the storms which skirt the

INTERPLAY OF CLIMATIC AND HUMAN CHANGES 1 55

edges of such areas. In our own day, such differences from
year to year and decade to decade are of extraordinary impor-
tance. They bring events like the Mississippi flood of 1927,
the bumper cotton crop of 1926, and the droughts that drove
people out of Kansas in the early nineties. Even when the
barometric pressure and storminess are notably different from
normal, the mean temperature for the year as a whole may de-
part very little from the average. Yet the rainfall and still
more the variability of the weather may vary to an extraordi-
nary degree,

On the basis of reasoning like this, we conclude that when
Greece was in its prime the belt of maximum climatic energy
apparently lay nearer the equator than at present, perhaps not
far from Greece and Rome. At any rate, the storminess of
Greece and Rome seems to have been enough greater than now
to cause an appreciable improvement in health and efficiency,
not only there but in all the lands around the eastern end of the
Mediterranean. At the same time excessive storminess ap-
parently lessened the efficiency of Germany and England, for
storms, like almost everything else, have their optimum, their
level of most favorable frequency.

Pulsations of climate are not the only factor which has
tended to change the location of the geographic areas whose
climate is best for human progress. Another factor, the " cold-
ward march of civilization," first adequately discussed by
S. C. GilFillan, must by no means be overlooked. Types of
civilization, like types of humanity, have optima. These op-
tima may depend mainly upon climate but they are also greatly
influenced by soil, vegetation, fuel and the like. Somewhere,
for example, perhaps in Java or perhaps farther north in Japan,
a certain combination of conditions has the maximum tendency
to promote progress among people whose culture is based upon
the art of raising rice. Obviously, the optimum cannot occur

156 THE HUMAN HABITAT

where frosts, droughts, or floods often ruin the rice crop. Nor
can it occur where the people are continually weakened and
discouraged by malaria. The optima for the crop and the
people may perchance be located far apart. That is unfor-
tunate, for then the optimum for that particular stage of human
progress will have to be located between the two other optima,
and neither the crop nor the people will be at its best.

Similar conditions are true for every other type of culture.
Take the extreme case of people who have not yet learned to
use fire, clothing or any shelter other than the trees. Such
people might be greatly stimulated by a cold climate if only
they could stand it. If set down in Greenland, however, they
would probably all perish in a year; in New York they would
barely survive; in Virginia they might do fairly well; but only
as far south as Florida, perhaps, could they really be at their
best. Their physiological reactions to climate might be exactly
like ours; yet the highest development of their culture might
occur in a climate much warmer than that which is best for us
today. Remember that when we define a climate as healthful
or the reverse, we are not thinking of naked savages, but of
ourselves with our warm clothing, warm houses, easy trans-
portation, and corner groceries supplied by well-filled cold
storage warehouses and grain elevators.

As mankind rises in the scale of civilization, his power to
cope with low temperature increases. The first man who threw
the skin of a slain animal over his back to keep him warm made
it possible for primitive man to endure considerably colder
winters than before. The first who built a fire or a warm hut
took another great step in the same direction. The fireplace,
stove, hot-air furnace and steam heater represent still other
steps. Glass was extremely important in this respect. It per-
mitted people to have light enough for all sorts of delicate work,
and at the same time keep their hands warm enough to do the

INTERPLAY OF CLIMATIC AND HUMAN CHANGES 157

work even In the coldest weather. Winter days which had
formerly been largely wasted could now be devoted to useful
sedentary work like weaving, the making of tools, or the dis-
covery of scientific truth. But the use of glass for the windows
of houses and workshops did not become common until after
1600 A.D. In his book on Glass in the Old World Mr. Wallace-
Dunlop states that a century before that time glass was so
scarce that according to a law made in 15055 although the win-
dows of a house belonged to the heir the glass was the property
of the executors and might be removed by them^ " for the house
is perfect without the glass." In 1599, however, the law was
changed to read that glass annexed to windows by nails or in
any other manner could not be removed, " for without glass it
is no perfect house." Yet as late as 1650 the use of window
glass was still so uncommon in Scotland that only the upper
rooms in the royal palaces were furnished with it, the lower
part having wooden shutters which were opened or closed as
might be necessary.

Now it so happens that some of the most valuable climatic
conditions from the point of view of both health and mental
stimulus occur mainly where the temperature during part of
the year is low. This is true of storms with their high varia-
bility; it is also true of the seasons with their tremendous
stimulus toward forethought and thrift.

If people can obtain the benefit of these climatic conditions
without suffering from low temperature, they will evidently en-
joy better health and achieve more than otherwise. That
seems to be what has now happened. We have reached the
point where our command over nature permits us to live almost
anywhere. If we so desired, we might live on the ice in Green-
land or Antarctica. Many occupations, to be sure, would be
impossible there, but that need not prevent a dense population,
provided some other factor makes it worth while to go to the

158 THE HUMAN HABITAT

enormous labor of transporting everything over the snow and
ice.

Agriculture is one of the occupations which cannot move to
Greenland. It prospers only where both soil and climate are
favorable. Rice raising, for instance, cannot spread into cool
climates, and the rice raisers must permanently endure the
handicap of unfavorably warm, damp and monotonous weather
unless some marvelous new discoveries are made. The miner,
too, must live where the ore is found. In fact, every primary
producer is geographically tied to his product. Those who
cater to the immediate wants of the primary producers are like-
wise tied down to definite geographical locations, no matter
whether the climate is good or bad. What use is a grocer,
policeman, barber, carpenter, doctor or minister unless he lives
near enough so that you can find him when you want him?

Certain occupations, however, are almost independent of
such geographic controls as the soil, the location of minerals,
and relation of climate to agriculture. As time goes on, they
are becoming still more free. One of these is manufacturing.
Originally, to be sure, the manufacturer needed to be near his
raw material, and likewise near the primary producers who
provide his main market, as well as food for his workers. Later
he felt the necessity of being as near as possible to supplies of
coal As the value of human labor increases in comparison
with the value of mere materials, the necessity for being tied
down to any special geographic environment diminishes. At
Birmingham, Alabama, for example, the presence of coal, iron
and limestone, seems to be a reason for the development of a
great and varied group of iron industries. Yet only the coarser
types of manufacturing are done there to any large degree.
The finer types are found in the North where, on the whole,
the labor is more efficient. The cotton industry furnishes an-
other interesting example of a similar sort. During the present

INTERPLAY OF CLIMATIC AND HUMAN CHANGES 159

century there has been a strong tendency for the cotton mills
to move from New England to the South, They have gone
there partly to be near the raw materials, partly to avoid re-
strictive legislation concerning child labor and other mat-
ters, partly to be near the southern portion of their market,
and partly to draw on an untouched supply of white labor
where wages are low.

All of these are sound geographic reasons for the location of
the cotton industry in one place rather than another. Never-
theless, the finer types of cotton spinning and weaving main-
tain their hold in the North. Massachusetts still has more
spindles than any other state. Just what the future will bring
forth is not clear, but many observers prophesy that within
a generation most of the cotton mills will move back to the
North. If wages and laws should become the same in the two
regions, and the intelligence of the laborers should be equal ?
the experience of other industries suggests that the more stimu-
lating climate, and the better health and greater energy of the
workers in the North might bring the industry back again. But
the iron and cotton industries deal with bulky or heavy raw
materials, and for that reason are still tied quite closely to
geographic conditions other than climate.

Quite a different set of conditions prevails in certain other
industries, for already they are almost foot-loose, so that they
can be established anywhere. Silk weaving, watch-making, the
making of high-grade chemicals, and the manufacture of jew-
elry are examples of industries where the cost of transportation
is so small that the quality of the workers becomes the chief
factor in determining whether a given location is good or bad.
The higher types of mental activity are likewise becoming more
and more free to locate themselves where they will. Institu-
tions of research, banking houses, universities, stock exchanges
and wholesale organizations are a few examples of the many

I6O THE HUMAN HABITAT

types of institutions which are almost free to choose their own
location.

In the higher branches of university education, such as
graduate schools, and most of all in pure research, the non-
climatic factors of the geographical environment still further
lose their importance, while the health, energy, initiative and
physical buoyancy of the workers become of paramount im-
portance. Almost anyone who has done much creative think-
ing or writing will tell you that in no other type of work does
he find his powers so different from day to day, so dependent
on his state of physical well-being. Today one writes slowly,
wearily, grinding out a few poor pages that later are thrown
away. Tomorrow one writes rapidly, easily, clearly, accu-
rately, page after page, till a whole chapter is finished. Such a
chapter often requires only a little revision, whereas the chap-
ter written in ten times as many days must be worked over
and over, and even then is not satisfactory. The days when
the worst chapters are written are those when the air is close
indoors, no matter what it may be outside, and when one feels
dull, sleepy, and discouraged both physically and mentally.
The days when the best chapters are written are usually cool
and fresh, with a bit of sparkle and tang in the air, or perhaps
gently and pleasantly rainy; the kind when it is joy to be alive.

Unconsciously but surely, people tend to go to the places
where such conditions prevail most frequently, for that is where
they can accomplish the most. The immediate spot where
this can be done may be determined by the location of a
harbor, river, or easy route to the interior. The general re-
gion Is determined mainly by climate. That is why the world's
scientific research and other intellectual activities, as well as
its financial, commercial, industrial and political control are
more and more becoming concentrated in the few limited re-
gions where the climate Is most healthful and stimulating.

INTERPLAY OF CLIMATIC AND HUMAN CHANGES 1 6 1

Does all this mean that mankind is becoming free from geo-
graphical control? Not at all. It merely means a change in
the geographic factors which exert that control Here is the
whole thing in a nutshell: The lower the stage of human cul-
ture, the more inevitably man is compelled to live near his
food supply, and to follow only the occupations for which the
local environment is favorable. As he advances in culture he
becomes able to transport food and raw materials so that he
begins to concentrate his industries in places which he finds
especially advantageous. At the same time he finds himself
more and more able to pursue sedentary industries in cool cli-
mates because he learns to utilize clothing, buildings, glass,
and heating devices. In addition to this, he unconsciously finds
that in fairly cool climates his innate ability increases because
he must exercise judgment, economy, thrift and foresight in
preparing for the winter. Those who fail in these respects are
likely to be eliminated. Finally, although even yet he scarcely
knows it, mankind discovers that in a certain type of cool,
stormy climate with a strong but not overwhelming contrast
of seasons, he has better health, greater energy, and more ini-
tiative than anywhere else.

As a result of all these tendencies, the centers of civilization
keep moving into the regions where man's stage of progress
makes him most efficient. In doing this the direct effect of the
climate upon the well-being of the human body assumes greater
and greater importance, because it is the condition of environ-
ment over which man's control is thus far least perfect. He
can bring food and raw materials from the ends of the earth,
and they are just as useful as if raised in his back yard, but
manufactured climates are not yet satisfactory. We have a
moderate sort in our houses in winter, but no one has manu-
factured a good climate for arctic regions or the tropics. Finally,
in addition to all these reasons for changes in the centers of

1 62 THE HUMAN HABITAT

civilization, the climate itself varies more or less from century
to century and millenium to millenium. When storms are more
abundant in lower latitudes than at present they are especially
helpful in increasing the activity and progress of people whose
control over nature is limited compared with ours. Thus the
climatic conditions during the more stormy epochs before the
days of Christ were highly advantageous to countries like
Egypt, Assyria and Greece, because they provided the stimulus
of greater variability and windiness to people who could not
yet be at their best in the cooler climates where storminess now
does the most good. Thus the final location of the centers of
civilization and of the main regions of manufacturing and the
like, is the result of man's changing control of nature, plus the
changing aspects of nature itself.

In spite of 'this relationship between climate and progress,
we should not expect a perfect agreement between the two at
all times. Man is a migratory animal; he keeps moving from
one environment to another; he carries his civilization with
him. When Englishmen settle in Jamaica, or Germans in tropi-
cal Brazil, they form an island of high civilization in the midst
of a lower civilization. Nevertheless, as time goes on, even
the migrants tend to conform to the climate in which they live.
This does not mean that the British settlers in Australia and
South Africa will ever go back to the level of the natives near
whom they dwell. It does mean, however, that in the future
the people who settle in these unfavorable lands are not likely
to go ahead as fast as those who remain where the climate is
better. The people in the poorer climates are practically cer-
tain to have poorer health and less energy than the others. The
population as a whole is likely to be less prosperous, so that
education and contact with other people are less prevalent.
Moreover, under such circumstances there is a strong tendency
for the more able people to leave the poorer environment.

INTERPLAY OE CLIMATIC AND HUMAN CHANGES 163

This last tendency is clearly evident in the Bahamas. Those
Islands are occupied by a combined population of British and
Negroes. Many of the British are descendants of Loyalists
who left the southern parts of the United States at the time
of the Revolutionary War. The Loyalists as a whole were
people of high character and ability. Their descendants still
display those same qualities; many of them are as cultivated,
high-minded and competent as any of their fellow Britons else-
where. Yet in a certain sense they have degenerated. They
themselves deplore the fact that their physical ability is not
equal to that of the Loyalists who migrated from New Eng-
land to Ontario. They deplore still more the fact that it seems
wise for many of the more vigorous young people to go away
from the islands, not only for education, but for their life work.
They sympathize with the Bahaman girl who had studied nurs-
ing in New York: " Do you enjoy life more in the United States
or in the Bahamas? " she was asked. Quick as a flash she an-
swered: " How can one help enjoying it more there? There one
feels like doing things; here one never feels like anything."

But there is more than this to the matter, for the abler boys
and girls are attracted to the more stimulating climate not
only because it makes them feel energetic, but because the
opportunities are greater than elsewhere. Thus the higher the
degree of civilization and the greater the freedom with which
people can move themselves and their goods from place to
place, the greater becomes the tendency toward the concentra-
tion of manufacturing, finance, government, education, science,
art and every other kind of leadership in the regions which of-
fer the optimum conditions of comfort, health and energy. As
time goes on, this tendency becomes so strong that the centers
of power actually begin to swing from place to place according
to the seasons. The thirteen million people who are concen-
trated within a hundred miles of New York are one of the most

1 64 THE HUMAN HABITAT

powerful groups in the whole world, unrivalled perhaps except
by the thirteen million in an approximately similar area around
London, But in February and especially in July the New York
area loses a good deal of its power because so many of its lead-
ers are in Florida, southern California and the Riviera, or at
Newport, Bar Harbor and the Adirondacks.

The preceding discussion partially answers our question in
a previous chapter as to whether the tropics will ever be re-
claimed. Doubtless the white man will do much toward re-
claiming vast areas in tropical America, Africa and elsewhere.
He will introduce machinery, he will act as supervisor, he may
even run the machinery himself, and he will teach the tropical
people to work much more effectively than at present. The
productivity of areas like the Amazon Basin and central Africa
may rival that of any other part of the world. Nevertheless, it
is practically certain that the center of power will never swing
to tropical countries unless some wholly unsuspected discovery
revolutionizes the tropical mode of life. The discovery would
have to cause life in the tropics to become so attractive and
so invigorating to both mind and body that the most able peo-
ple would want to live there. That might happen if the people
of the future should learn to protect themselves against heat as
readily as we protect ourselves against cold. That will be
very hard to do because the inertia which is the keynote of
comfort within the tropics is also one of the greatest enemies of
human progress. Activity on the other hand, is highly valuable
as a means not only of keeping warm, but of making progress.
Of course it is possible that in some far future a new race
may evolve whose optimum climate is warmer than that of the
races of today, but that scarcely cuts much figure in the. plans
of the present generation.

Putting aside all speculation as to the far future, we can
sum up the whole thing by saying first, that the general pattern

PLATE XX. TEMPLE OF Isis AT PETRA.

These ruins in eastern Palestine appear to represent a high Nabatean civilization

which developed under the influence of a more favorable climate not far from

the time of Christ,

INTERPLAY OF CLIMATIC AND HUMAN CHANGES 165

of the distribution of civilization throughout the world has al-
ways depended closely upon climate; second, that man's in-
creasing control over nature keeps tending to change that
pattern; third, that migrations likewise introduce continual
changes in the pattern; and fourth, that as soon as a migra-
tion has occurred, the climatic conditions begin to mold and
select the migrants to fit the new environment. The climate
makes certain occupations profitable, and others unprofitable;
it is enjoyed by people of some temperaments and not by those
of other temperaments; it causes people with one type of phy-
sique to have better health and more children than those with
other types of physique; it makes certain types of food, shelter
and clothing advisable, and others unhealthful. In the long
run, ill health, failure and gradual extinction are the lot of
those who cannot or will not adapt themselves to the climate,
but before that happens many migrate to other climates better
adapted to their physiques, temperaments, occupations, habits,
institutions and stage of development. This has happened re-
peatedly, though slowly, in the past; it is happening far more
rapidly today, especially among the peoples who are most
highly civilized and mobile.

CHAPTER XII

THE CONTRAST BETWEEN JAPAN AND CHINA *

WHAT sort of picture do the words " Japan " and " China "
bring to your mind? Do they suggest the same sort of people,
the same sort of scenery, the same sort of civilization? Or do
they suggest countries as different as England and Italy? To
those who know them best, the differences are generally more
noteworthy than the resemblances. To me the word " Japan "
brings up a vision of the deck of a steamer, a soft warm rain
falling straight down without wind, blue mountains dimly seen
through banded streaks of pale clouds above a dull greenish sea
dotted with white sails. Then mists roll in and we are solitary.
When the mists rise once more the land is near at hand. No
mountains now are visible; great inaccessible cliffs, slashed
by steep-sided gorges, rise abruptly from the water. At the top
of the cliffs a low plateau forms a maze of hills. Some are cov-
ered with trees, mostly pines, which break the sky-line with
dark clumps; but the majority display the paler tint of dense
thickets of tall reedy grasses, clumps of bamboo and other
bushes, and groves of maples and other deciduous trees.
Everything is green, as it is all over Japan, save on the rocky
mountains, or during the winter at high levels and in the north.
Few countries save Ireland are greener. Between us and the
green hills lies the pearly, misty, moving water, and groups of
fishing boats. Little wisps of cloud keep forming in the val-
leys and spreading out as bands along the hills, only to rise as

1 Much of this chapter and the next is based on the author's two books en-
titled West oj the Pacific and The Character of Races.

166

THE CONTRAST BETWEEN JAPAN AND CHINA 167

shreds and tatters, and disappear in the great cloudiness above.
But the Intense greenness, with its many shades, impresses us
even more than the wetness and the pearly mistiness.

But where is man in all this scene? The boats indicate an
abundant fishing-population. That great headland ends in
the fine white column of a modern lighthouse, but where are the
houses of the fishermen? See that dark-brown patch at the
mouth of the valley, with a bit of bright green behind it? Look
more closely, to right and left. There is another and another.
They are the villages, and the pale-green patches are bits of
rice land. See how that village stretches out, a thin brown
line of houses at the base of the cliff. Will not the waves of the
next typhoon eat it up? Every speck of level land seems to be
covered with houses or rice fields. How can so many people
live where there seems to be only room for a road?

Come closer to the shore and look at this lovely bit of Japa-
nese scenery. Directly in front a dainty little gorge opens its
green jaws, with a bit of yellow cliff on one side for variety* A
laughing waterfall surely lies hidden among the trees. On
either side the sea is faced by green bluffs, not precipitous like
those we saw before, but far too steep, it would seem, for
habitation. They are shrouded in bushes and trees, among
which crooked pines bent by the wind are conspicuous. Al-
ready we are becoming familiar with a large part of the ele-
ments that make Japanese art so unique mountains, cliffs,
clouds, mist, bays, boats and pearly seas, and likewise brooks,
waterfalls, dense vegetation, and picturesque crooked trees.
We have seen these landscapes dimmed almost to black-and-
white, as in the southern school of Japanese art, mere impres-
sions that can be painted in a few strokes and we have seen
them bursting into masses of color, full of dainty detail, as in
the northern school.

Now we see other scenes on which that same art is based.

1 68 THE HUMAN HABITAT

A dozen small boats appear and a crowd of people flocks along
the shores. In the boats the bare brown limbs of fishermen
harmonize with their blue garments. Here is a man with tight
white trousers and a blue smock bearing between the shoulders
a big white circle enclosing white designs. His head is swathed
in a black cloth, while a white cloth hangs under his chin like a
beard. Others have tight brown or blue trousers, long blue
robes, and dark-blue cloths around their heads. More pic-
turesque are the mushroom hats, very convenient to shed the
rain. Here come some more boats, better still. See the grass
hats like little tents, the dripping grass cloaks like bigger tents,
and the grass shelters like little cabins. On shore a rapidly
gathering crowd displays the long Japanese kimonos of both
men and women, the gay umbrellas of oiled paper, and the awk-
ward shuffling gait due to wooden clogs. We are not on an
uninhabited shore, as one might at first imagine. Even on
these steep slopes scores of thickly thatched houses, yellowish
or blackish in tint, peep out from among the trees. Japan is
assuredly not only a moist land, a green land, and a land of
mountains, mists and seas, but it is densely populated so
densely that one marvels again and again.

Sail up now into one of the scores of land-locked bays that
help to make the Japanese one of the most maritime people in
all the world. On our left, miles away but clear as crystal
against the freshly washed blue sky, rises the lovely cone of
shapely Fuji, white on top, shading off to blue lower down, and
vanishing at the base in a faint dainty haze which seems almost
to be some sort of ethereal soil from which the magic mountain
grows like a fairy mushroom. Nearer at hand two business-
like tugs send out columns of black smoke to trail far behind
them and cast purple shadows on the water. But they cannot
spoil the lovely sunset, for now the sky is partly cloudy, and the
sun goes down in a brief blaze of crimson. Before it is gone

THE CONTRAST BETWEEN JAPAN AND CHINA 1 69

we have sailed up Yokohama Bay, past modern lighthouses, a
modern breakwater, great dry-docks and shipyards, tugs,
barges, huge ocean-steamers, and up-to-date wharfs cen-
turies distant from the grass-clad fishermen whom we saw a
score of miles away.

Come ashore now, in the morning, and ride in a jinrikisha.
What a disorderly jumble fills the rough, muddy streets
bicycles, man-carts, jinrikishas, horse-carts, ox-carts, a few
automobiles, and hosts of people. Most of the people walk on
wooden clogs to keep out of the wet. They are fairly agile in
avoiding the mud splashed up by the running jinrikisha men,
but pay little attention to automobiles, for in Japan the auto-
mobile is merely tolerated. The vehicles that really belong in
the Japanese streets are man-drawn. According to the official
figures of 1920 for every automobile in Japan there were at
least a hundred bicycles, and twenty jinrikishas or man-drawn
carts for merchandise, compared with fifty horse-drawn carts
and seven or eight ox-carts. Even now the proportions are not
much different, although automobiles are more common there
as everywhere.

One of the most pleasant features of a ride in any Japanese
city is the brightness and vivacity of the streets. I do not
mean merely the multitude of gay banners above almost every
business street, nor yet the colorful openness of the shops where
one can see what is going on inside. I mean also the great
variety in the style of dress. A man dressed in a grass hat and
coat may be exchanging courteous bows with another dressed
in ordinary European clothes and looking extremely well
groomed. A much larger number, although dressed in Euro-
pean style, have extremely baggy trousers while their shoes
are much turned up at the toes from sitting on their knees
on the floor. A far more attractive type of dress is the long
kimono, or gown, restrained brown tones for young students,

1 70 THE HUMAN HABITAT

darker and more beautiful colors for the more conservative
older men. Mingling freely among these more elegant types
are the working people and coolies in tight trousers or bare-
legged, and wearing short dark-blue smocks with large white
designs implanted boldly between the shoulders. Some wear
straw hats, of all descriptions, many are hatless, and some wear
mushroom-like rain-shedders, like miniature umbrellas, some-
times of black paper, sometimes of straw. But why try to
describe the indescribable? Japan is in transition, and the
Japanese are extremely sensible in permitting people to wear
the dress that best fits their work. The coolie's tight trousers,
bare legs, and bare shoulders are admirably adapted to his
work. European clothes are all right for people who sit on
chairs. If those same people want to sit on the floor, those who
can afford it substitute kimonos for trousers and coats. And
delightfully comfortable those kimonos are for an evening at
home.

Not all of Japan is changing. The women are almost uni-
formly dressed in the old style regardless of the impracticable
character of their kimonos with pillows behind and long sashes.
The kimonos are so tight around the knees that walking is diffi-
cult, the ten-foot sash wound around the waist is hot, and
often has to be drawn much too tight in order to hold the full
skirt out of the mud. But even if the women's dress is uniform
in cut, it varies delightfully in color, and is wonderfully set off
by the contrasts between the kimonos themselves and the
pillows. Nevertheless, the dress _ of the Japanese is not what
makes their streets so bright. The smiling faces of the men
are what do it, the dainty charm of the women, and the delight-
ful vivacity and merriment of the children. A race with such
qualities has a tremendous asset.

But look closer into the life of the Japanese. One is con-
tinually puzzled to know just where to place these people. If

THE CONTRAST BETWEEN JAPAN AND CHINA 1 7 1

one comes to them directly from China, they seem qulck ? alert
and prompt. If one comes to them from America one is Im-
pressed by the frequent delays, the apparent disregard for set
hours. One sympathizes with the English clerk at Cook's of-
fice in Yokohama: "Where do you think you are? You are
not In America. It takes two days to get a letter eighteen miles
from Yokohama to Tokyo." Yet at that same Yokohama one
boards a trolley car as freely as at home. We Americans think
that our street-car system Is the most highly developed in the
world, but in many Japanese cities trams seem to be as numer-
ous and as crowded as among us. Or one travels by train and
quickly realizes that for so mountainous a country Japan has
an extremely well developed and widely spread net of railways.
A few things such as the disorderly way in which fruit skins,
papers, and everything else are thrown on the floors, and a cer-
tain lack of precision In the cleaning of corners and the repair
of things like door knobs, give the critically minded foreigner a
chance to gibe. But the Japanese trains are practically always
on time much more so than ours, although they do not go so
fast. All over Japan one has this same feeling of perfection
in some respects, coupled with carelessness in others.

In spite of what has just been said about greenness, no one
can deny that while Japan Is green on top, it is bare under-
neath. What I mean is typified by a beautiful garden in Tokyo,
lovely with azaleas and Irises and shaded by pines and other
trees. Stone paths wind among the trees and encircle a tiny Mil
and a miniature lake most delightfully. So much Is crowded
into half an acre that it might hold one's attention for hours.
Nevertheless, the American or European misses our level turf
with its cleancut edges. In place of turf he finds bits of bare
ground, patches of moss and liverwort. The summers are good
for the ranker kinds of vegetation, but much too constantly
wet as well as warm to favor the growth of the finer types of

172 THE HUMAN HABITAT

grasses. That is one of the great reasons why domestic ani-
mals of all kinds are relatively scarce in Japan, and why milk
is such a luxury that it is sold in little bottles like ginger ale at
the railway stations.

The Japanese streets as well as the gardens seem unfinished
to a European ; even in Tokyo there are only a few bits of side-
walk, miles and miles of city streets show little hint of any plan
to separate pedestrians and vehicles. The streets are dug up
on every side and the majority are rough and have a disorderly
look. Curiously enough, few people take much responsibility
for the streets outside their own grounds, no matter how fine
the grounds may be. Although the Japanese are proverbially
of a public-spirited and artistic temperament, this does not
seem to apply to public streets, public conveyances, or any-
thing public. Love of beauty is not love of order. Among the
Japanese the love of beauty sticks out everywhere, but the love
of order is far more highly developed in England and Holland.

In the Japanese factories the same characteristics stand out
clearly. One is impressed by the extent to which the factory
system has developed, at least so far as the cotton and silk in-
dustries are concerned. Yet one constantly feels that the exact
mechanical side of manufacturing is not the point in which
the Japanese excel. They can copy other people's machines
to the letter, but they rarely invent anything themselves or
even make changes to adapt other people's machinery more
perfectly to their own uses.

On the other hand, when it comes to social agencies such as
day nurseries for children, dormitories for working girls, public
libraries, dispensaries and the like, one feels that the Japanese
are in their element. Among them, as a sociologist would put
it, the social instinct is very highly developed. Yet curiously
enough, even in their most up-to-date bits of work, such as a
well-equipped hospital connected with an industrial plant, the

THE CONTRAST BETWEEN JAPAN AND CHINA 173

sort of carelessness which goes with the artistic temperament
is often apparent. The basins in the operating rooms are often
broken and rusty where the enamel has chipped off; there is
dirty water in some of them, and in genera! there is a certain
lack of finish and precision.

Of course I recognize that similar deficiencies occur in every
country. The point is that while in some countries they im-
press even the casual traveler, in others one does not think
of them, although other deficiencies may be glaring. In Hol-
land, England and Sweden one rarely thinks of this particular
type of deficiency, whereas in India, Turkey and Mexico it is
glaringly evident, while in southern Italy and the northern,
tropical part of Australia it is evident to a milder degree, as in
Japan. Perhaps the whole thing may be summed up by saying
that the English, Dutch and Swedes possess in high degree, and
the Japanese only in low degree, the quality which enabled the
character in PINAFORE to sing:

" I polished up the handle so carefullee
That now I am the ruler of the Queen's navee."

The explanation of the Japanese deficiencies in orderliness
and in the quality which keeps things in good repair is often
said to lie in training. The Japanese, so the argument runs,
have only recently learned to use machinery, modern sanita-
tion, modem transportation, and the like. Therefore they have
not yet learned to take care of their tools. This explanation
does not seem satisfactory. When the English and Dutch had
had only sixty or even twenty years of modern industrial de-
velopment, the newness of the tools and methods certainly did
not prevent them from being just as neat and tidy and or-
derly as they are now. It seems to me that the explanation lies
mainly, and perhaps equally, in two things: first, the artistic
and social temperament of the Japanese, the origin of which I

174 THE HUMAN HABITAT

shall not attempt to explain; and, second, their comparative
lack of physical vigor due to the wide prevalence of anaemia
and other minor ailments.

Few people realize the extent to which the capacity of a na-
tion is tied up with the number of illnesses and the death rate.
Even in June an inordinate number of the Japanese, especially
the children, suffer from colds and running noses. Among civi-
lized nations few have so high a death rate as Japan. The
average there, since 1900, has been above twenty per thousand
practically all the time, and in many years has risen above
twenty-one, especially from 1916 onward. It is often said that
this is due to the increase of manufacturing and the movement
of the population to the cities. That, however, can scarcely
be the explanation, for in countries like Australia and the
United States the relative growth of the cities has been greater
than in Japan, but the death rate has fallen. Moreover, the
manufacturing population is still relatively small in Japan.
Even if the death rate among factory operatives has doubled
or trebled since 1900, it would scarcely account for the ap-
parent rise in the general death rate. The fact seems to be
that aside from a few countries like Spain, Hungary and Chile,
Japan has the worst health among the comparatively advanced
nations, and it is almost unique in showing no apparent de-
cline in the death rate.

Three of the main reasons for Japan's high death rate are:
(i) the unbalanced diet; (2-) the great density of population;
and (3) the unfavorable summer climate. The great deficiency
of the diet is the excess of rice, which must form eighty or
ninety per cent of the food of millions of people. As to density
of population, it is a well-established fact, that the death rates
in cities and in dense populations are higher than in rural dis-
tricts or sparsely populated regions. Japan has so many peo-
ple that whenever a child is born, it is almost essential that

THE CONTRAST BETWEEN JAPAN AND CHINA 175

somebody die to make room. Such conditions mean that
major diseases, and likewise minor ailments of all descriptions^
are correspondingly common, and that people's energy is con-
stantly sapped by disease.

The heat and humidity of the summer are probably as im-
portant as a poor diet and overpopulation in sapping the
strength of the Japanese. Perhaps the strongest evidence of
this is the relation between the birth rate and death rate at dif-
ferent seasons, as I have shown in Civilization and Climate.
In order to understand the effect of the climate on the births,
let us take the month of conception. In June, when the stimu-
lating effect of the beautiful spring weather reaches its cul-
mination, the average daily number of conceptions which gave
rise to living children was 574 during the years from 1901 to
1910. The corresponding number of deaths was only 233.
Three months later, in September, when the hot humid sum-
mer had produced its maximum effect, the conceptions that re-
sulted in living children fell to an average of only 311, whereas
the deaths rose to 317. In others words, the summers are so
debilitating that the Japanese have not the strength to pro-
duce children. If they had to endure the summer climate all
the year, their numbers would apparently diminish, instead
of increasing at the rate of half a million a year ? as is now
the case.

Thanks to their diet and the summer climate, most of the
Japanese feel more or less wilted from the end of June to the
early part of September, nearly three months. When people
feel physically inert, especially if they have the artistic tem-
perament, it is extremely easy to leave things at loose ends
and to be careless about all sorts of little details. When good
weather returns in the fall, It takes months to get over the
physical effects of the bad summer. It Is doubtful whether
these effects are ever completely neutralized. Moreover^ If

176 THE HUMAN HABITAT

physical inertia causes people to form the habit of being care-
less during part of the year, the habit is apt to persist indef-
initely. Thus the climate and diet of Japan, when taken in
conjunction with the artistic and social temperament, help
greatly in explaining why the Japanese fail to rise to European
standards in orderliness, precision and mechanical accuracy,
although rising above the European standards in courtesy, love
of beauty, and social responsiveness. Yet bear in mind that
in orderliness and so forth as well as in energy the Japanese
stand farther ahead of the Chinese than we stand ahead of
them.

It is harder to draw a picture of China than of Japan. That
huge country is so diverse that it has all sorts of climate and
scenery. In the far west eternally snowclad mountains display
peak after peak which far surpasses Fuji in height if not in
symmetry. Massive plateaus, snowclad for more than half the
year, present vast stretches of grassland in summer, or of
gravel scantily clothed with a little vegetation. To the north
of China, as well as to the west, lie vast deserts, among the
largest and most intense that the world can boast. In some
of them, as in Chinese Turkestan or Sinkiang, waves of pink-
ish sand yellowish near the borders extend for hundreds
of miles, rising in line after line to heights of anywhere from
five to five hundred feet. Such deserts are not the most com-
mon kind; still greater areas consist of scores or even hun-
dreds of miles of gravel, silt and clay laid down one after the
other as turbulent rushing rivers debouch from the mountains,
spread widely in many finger-like branches, and are compelled
to flow more and more slowly by reason of the gentler slopes of
the lowlands. Sometimes the water of a single river spreads
out over hundreds of square miles at the acme of the summer
floods, provided the snow on the great mountains has been espe-
cially abundant. The clays, in turn may extend almost level

THE CONTRAST BETWEEN JAPAN AND CHINA 177

for hundreds of barren miles, or they may be eroded into
fantastic tables separated by steepsided troughs where the
scouring winds have had free play for centuries. Sometimes
the clays are interbedded with salt and gypsum, in which case
we infer that they represent the deposits of lakes that have now
disappeared because of increasing aridity. Sometimes the beds
of the old lakes are visible in the form of great plains of white,
gleaming salt broken into rough masses like the waves of a
choppy sea, as at Lopnor.

The sand and the salt of the great deserts are almost unin-
habited, but the gravel and clay, as well as the plateaus, are
the home of nomads like the Mongols who dwell in round felt
tents and wander in regular circuits with their camels, horses
and sheep in the lower deserts, or like the Tibetans and Khir-
ghiz in the high plateaus. But why do we describe the homes
of such people? They are not Chinese. No, but they are an
essential part of the cultural area which centers in the rich
deltaic plains near the coast. All through the ages they have
sent their overflow outward into China and thus have pro-
foundly molded Chinese history and differentiated China from
Japan.

Even if we confine ourselves to China Proper and southern
Manchuria, which is as much Chinese as any other part, the
contrasts are far more extreme than in Japan. In the north the
traveler may bear away a strong impression of bitterly cold
winters, and of a mantle of snow in which the cart-wheels
creak complainingly while clouds of vapor rise from the tug-
ging horses. Or perchance one thinks of a bitterly cold wind,
well down toward zero, sweeping remorselessly across bare
open plains and bearing a miserable, irritating load of dust
from the desert. That is the kind of dust which in Shensi and
Shansi has accumulated to a depth of scores of feet and forms
the famous loess. Japan has cold weather in the far north

THE HUMAN HABITAT

and on the high mountains, and Its mountains have dep snows,
but orange trees grow where most of the Japanese live, and
there is nothing comparable to the dry, dusty, bitterly cold
winds of North China. In summer, on the contrary, the air
all over China is warm and moist, even warmer than in Japan,
but not so persistently damp. Yet when rain does fall heavily,
it is even more severe than in Japan. Think what it means
when twenty inches fall in as many days. But in an ordinary
summer the rain is merely heavy enough to cause everything
to be delightfully green. Then China like Japan becomes a
land of gardens and crops. Millions of people may be seen
wading in water half way to the knees, bending at the waist,
hour after hour, day after day, as they stick the pale green
rice seedlings into the watery mud, or plowing with cattle in
the north and with water buffaloes farther south where most
of the rice is grown. As the Chinese work in the fields they give
the same general impression as the Japanese indomitable pa-
tience, eternal industry, and unvarying economy in utilizing
every scrap of ground, every scrap of fertilizer, every hour of
the day.

The Chinese, even more than the Japanese, may move slowly
compared with Europeans and Americans, they may leave
things in disorder to an extent that tries our nerves, or at least
our esthetic sensibilities, but both races certainly do work and
save. In that respect they display the most highly developed
qualities of the rice-raising type of culture, carrying them to a
higher pitch than anyone else. Watch that plot of ground in
Chekiang province south of the Yangtse with its spring crop of
wheat, barley or beans, its summer crop of rice, and its winter
crop of rape to be eaten as greens when young and tender. See
how the living encroach upon the plots allotted to the dead
leaving first a space three feet by seven feet in the midst of a
cultivated field, then whittling it down with each plowing until

THE CONTRAST BETWEEN JAPAN AND CHINA 179

it becomes two by five, and one by three. Finally, In some dis-
tricts, the grave is represented by a little pottery cylinder six
inches in diameter and so small that it merely occupies the
space that must anyhow be left between most kinds of plants
in order that they may get light and air. By and by the cylin-
der will be shattered by the plow and not replaced. That is
how ancestor-worshipping China manages to find space for the
living instead of the dead. If all the graves were allowed to re-
main full size, most of China would now be a graveyard.

In spite of many resemblances North China makes a very
different impression from Japan. In Japan, on a clear day, the
mountains are always in sight so near that they can scarcely;
be forgotten; the rivers are merely small streams which usually^
cut little figure in the life of the inhabitants; in China the plains
seem boundless, and the swells and hollows are so slight that
one can scarcely detect them. But what is that line of hills off
there in the distance? Hills? Oh, no, that is the river, in a
mile or two we will climb up to it. Here we are on top of the
embankment; behind us a slope leads down to the plain where
the people dwell; in front, almost at our very feet, a boiling,
swirling, yellow river gurgles past; if the rains keep on it may
soon overtop the bank whereon we stand.

In the Yangtse region the plain is more frequently broken by
hills and the rivers do not flow at such high levels as in the
Huang region and that of its southern neighbor, the Hwai. Yet
all through the lowland coastal sections of China one is op-
pressed by the flatness of the plains, their nearness to the water,
and the degree to which they are everywhere intersected by
waterways. One sees it at Nanking on the Yangtse, at Shang-
hai and the neighboring cities, at Fuchow, even though moun-
tains rise close to the lowland, at Amoy, Canton and a hundred
other places. Because the Chinese plains are so flat and so
interlaced with sluggish water-courses navigation by means of

l8o THE HUMAN HABITAT

small boats Is more highly developed than in almost any other,
large area. Rice culture helps to bring this about not merely
because it demands many canals, but because it floods the lands
and makes it difficult to maintain roads and the innumerable
bridges that they would require.

South of the Yangtse the resemblances to Japan are greater
than to the north, even though North China lies in the Japanese
latitudes. The reason is that North China has very cold win-
ters and a long dry season coincident with the cooler months.
Japan and South China are alike in having enough rain and
heat to keep the fields green practically all the year; they are
also alike in their intimate mixture of mountains and little
plains and in the abundance of trees wherever nature is left to
her own devices. Nevertheless even in South China the Mils
are sadly denuded of trees, whereas in Japan this is rarely the
case. Even as far south as Amoy, close to the tropic of Cancer,
many a rough Chinese hillside, that might furnish abundant
fuel and timber if protected, is so barren that the Chinese grub
up the grass by the roots in order to get any fuel whatever.
Thereby, of course, they make matters far worse, for the rains
wash away the finer soil, and the result is little better than a
desert. This is due partly to human folly, but even in South
China long periods of dry weather in the cooler months place
the trees under a greater handicap than in Japan.

Another condition wherein Japan resembles South China is*
the coarseness of the native grasses. This may sound like a
small matter, but it largely explains why the work of preparing
the fields and of carrying loads is performed by human labor
more fully in Japan and South China than in any other regions
where the degree of civilization is equally high. The same wet
warm climate which makes rice culture far more common than
In the north also causes the grasses to be so tough and watery
that they provide very poor forage. Rice straw is indeed abun-

THE CONTRAST BETWEEN JAPAN AND CHINA 1 8 1

dant, but it Is not much better. The water buffalo Is the only
beast of burden that really thrives on such a diet, but he is of
little use outside the rice fields. Other beasts of burden can be
raised only at such great expense that human labor is cheaper.
In North China a better type of grasses, together with the straw
of wheat and barley and the stalks of millet provide food that
is good for horses, donkeys and ordinary cattle.

In order to sum up our ideas of the human geography of the
Far East, let us think of Japan, South China and North China
as forming a series arranged in the order of the excellence of
their environment, their degree of progress, and many other
essential qualities. These other qualities include the size of
the people, the Japanese being the smallest. They also include
freedom from extreme fluctuations of prosperity, especially
those dependent upon crop failures and famines; friendliness,
cheerfulness, and willingness to help others; readiness to adopt
new customs and to throw off harmful ones such as f ootbinding
and hara-kiri; ingenuity and originality in making inventions
and developing new ideas; political sagacity and ability to run
a government in which the people have some part, even if only
a little. In all these respects Japan now leads the way; South
China comes second; and North China brings up the rear.

CHAPTER XIII

THE CAUSES OF THE CONTRAST

MANY Americans and Europeans feel that the finest Chinese
rival or surpass the Japanese in real ability. Whether this is
true or not I cannot say, but great ability is by no means rare;
one finds it among hundreds of thousands of Chinese as well as
Japanese. Why, then, does China make progress so much more
slowly than Japan? Why does footbinding persist in North
China although rare in South China? Why has Japan a pro-
gressive industrial system; South China, especially the Yangtse
Valley, the beginnings of such a system; and North China al-
most none of it? Why do great hordes of unemployed people
present a scowling, truculent attitude in North China, in con-
trast to the smiling friendliness of happily occupied people in
South China and extraordinary charm of manner in Japan?
Why does North China consistently stand for reaction in gov-
ernment, religion, industry, commerce and social usages ; while
Japan leads in these respects, and South China hangs between
the two? All these and a hundred other matters suggest deep-
seated differences which the science of human geography can
help to explain.

Here as in so many other problems, one school of thinkers
turns at once to historical causes, to institutions, to the ideas
evolved by the leaders, and to the type of training given to the
young. The feudal system in Japan, the modifications of
Buddhism introduced by Shintoism with its cult of loyalty, the
greater contact of Japan with Europe, the conservative tend-
encies of Confucianism and ancestor worship in China, the

182

THE CAUSES OF THE CONTRAST 183

slow development of foreign trade, the paternalistic system of
government, the lack of a sense of personal responsibility are
given as causes of the contrasts that we have just outlined.
True, but back of them certain great facts of geography pro-
vide a background which makes it much harder for the North
Chinese than for the South Chinese to be progressive, and
harder for the South Chinese than for the Japanese. If we
would understand the problem aright, the proper method is first
to analyse these physical factors and their effects; then we can
rightly evaluate the social, political, religious, commercial, in-
dustrial and psychological factors. The trouble with much of
our thinking is that we begin to construct our historical houses
at the roof, and forget that there are any foundations, walls
and beams.

It is very important to understand China and Japan aright.
Together they contain fully a quarter of all the people in the
world; both of them, especially China, are in a stage where
development may be extremely rapid; our trade with them has
grown by leaps and bounds faster than with almost anyone
else. Even if we combine South America with the whole
of Africa and Australia, our total trade with those three
continents only slightly exceeds our trade with Japan and
China.

One of the most essential steps in understanding these highly
important countries is to get rid of two widely prevalent mis-
conceptions. The first is that China and Japan are backward
because they have long been isolated. But from what have
they been isolated? From Europe, doubtless, but the Euro-
peans have been equally isolated from them. From India, but
Europe has been still more so. They have certainly not been
isolated from each other except by their own choice, nor from
Chosen and Indo-China. They have been able to reach the
East Indies and India more easily than the Scandinavians have

1 84 THE HUMAN HABITAT

been able to reach the Mediterranean. It is only because we
think in terms of European culture that we suppose China and
Japan to have been isolated.

Take a map of the world. Suppose that you know nothing
whatever about the civilization of different parts. Bear in
mind that communication by water is far more easy and cheap
than by land. Remember that though an occasional tropical
typhoon is worse than any storm on the oceans in higher lati-
tudes, the tropical oceans are free from storms many months
in the year. Now put your finger on the region most easily in
touch with a large number of other lands where the possibilities
of development are great. Do you pick out Sicily in the cen-
ter of the Mediterranean, or Borneo in the center of the mar-
velous East Indian archipelago with its fringe of continents?
Or does your choice lie between Denmark and Chosen, with
Cuba as another candidate? If you take into account the
great river systems, some point like Amsterdam, Shanghai or
New Orleans may get the palm. But certainly for mere acces-
sibility from other regions, regardless of their civilization, it
is hard to see how Europe has an advantage over eastern Asia.
If lack of contact with Europe is the reason for the relative
backwardness of the Oriental countries, why is it that India,
after its long and intimate contact with England, Java after its
similar contact with the Dutch, and Indo-China where the
French have long been established, are so much less advanced
than Japan where contact with foreigners has been far less
common until about two generations ago?

The second misconception is that Japan has undergone a
unique transformation since Admiral Perry first sailed up to
Yokohama in 1853. Of course Japan has changed enormously,
but not from an uncivilized to a civilized nation. Up to the
time of the coming of the foreigners, Japan was indeed exclu-
sive, but she was by no means stagnant. Read Japanese his-

THE CAUSES OF THE CONTRAST 185

tory and you will find that little by little, for one or two thou-
sand years, Japan had been gradually evolving. She had not
gone backward as had China; although she had had her ups
and downs, she was still going ahead; even if no foreigners had
come to her, the chances are that new developments would have
taken place. So far as real civilization is concerned, Japan in
1860, let us say, was almost as advanced as England in 1760
when the Hanoverian kings were dominating her. She did
indeed begin her industrial revolution later than western Eu-
rope. Therefore that revolution produced a more sudden
change than in the West, but Japan was ready for the change
and that is why she made it. In China a similar change has
hung fire, and in India it has never been made except as Euro-
peans have enforced it in spite of native indifference.

To return now to our main problem, even if European civil-
ization had never introduced a complicating factor, Japan
would apparently have been an energetic, progressive nation
with its present qualities of love of beauty, loyalty, and reli-
ance upon the advice of others. South China would have been
less advanced than Japan, but progressive compared with
North China; while North China would have been what most
of it is today, a land poorer than either of the others, inhabited
by people who are more conservative, less cheerful, less fond
of art. Round about the borders of North China would have
been a fourth area peopled by nomads with the boldness, physi-
cal energy and proneness to wander and plunder which are
commonly characteristic of such nomads. The coming of Eu-
ropeans has introduced a new factor, but it has not changed the
general situation.

Three physical conditions have played an important part in
bringing about this situation. The first is that Japan is an
island. This has acted as a selective factor upon immigrants;
it has enabled Japan to maintain a high degree of isolation and

1 86 THE HUMAN HABITAT

so develop its culture undisturbed; and it has influenced the
climate.

In studying the effect of the insular position of Japan upon
the migrations which determined the original character of
the Japanese, we have no exact facts and can merely reason
from analogy. The importance of migrations in altering racial
character Is only beginning to be understood. Practically every
migration is selective; the selection may be good or bad. When
criminals or contract laborers are sent to a colony the selec-
tion is good for the home country, but bad for the colony.
The same is true if the poor of the cities have their expenses
paid to some far-off colony by the government, or are helped to
go by steamship agents seeking to fill their ships. Although
such types of migration have been common in recent genera-
tions, they are the rare exception when history as a whole is
considered. In most migrations people either move from one
region to another on their own initiative, or under compulsion.
The longer and harder the migration, the more certain it is to
be selective. This is true even if all the people of a community
migrate together. The selection occurs in this way. No group
of people, especially no primitive group, can migrate far with-
out encountering physical hardships and human hostility.
When the English first settled in Jamestown, nearly nine-tenths
of the original settlers perished within the first few years; at
Plymouth, half died during the first winter. When the Ar-
menians were driven from their homes by the Turks after the
Great War, three-fourths or more are estimated to have per-
ished before they finally settled in other lands. The fatigues
of the journey, the hunger which is sure to come, the suffer-
ings from cold and heat, the ravages of enemies, the dangers
from flood, storm, river, or ocean, all take their toll of lives.
The first to die are the physically weak, especially those who

THE CAUSES OF THE CONTRAST 187

have organic diseases. With them perish the mentally deficient,
and those who are so stupid thatthey exasperate their com-
panions, or their enemies when taken captive.

The selective action of migration applies not only to the
physique and intellect of the migrants, but to their tempera-
ment. A despondent temperament, the tendency to see only
the difficulties and to hark back to the old home and its de-
lights are great handicaps to survival. People of that kind are
much less able to endure hardship than are those who look
ahead courageously and plan for a happy future. The spirit
of curiosity, on the contrary, buoys people up, while those to
whom hardship is a welcome challenge may even rejoice in
the chance to put their metal to the utmost test. The woman
who is charming enough to make the men help her, and who
is at the same time a good sport and a good comrade, is the
one for whom shelter and food are provided, whose burdens are
carried, and whose children are well fed. The baby which
gaily laughs and tries to do its bit, or who simply begs for
food in an endearing way instead of crying and making itself
a nuisance is the one to whom the men are attracted, whom
they are willing to carry in their arms, and for whom they are
willing to sacrifice their own food. All these types of selec-
tion become more and more potent the longer and harder the
journey.

All this appears to apply to the early inhabitants of Japan,
just as it applies to England, Iceland and New Zealand. Each
of these islands in the days when it received its original popu-
lation, was the goal of a long and difficult migration. It may
not have been very hard to cross the water from the mainland
to either Japan or England, but it is highly probable that the
people who finally did so had previously been battling their
way toward the coast through all sorts of hardships and hostil-

1 88 THE HUMAN HABITAT

ity. It is likewise probable that it was only the bolder, healthier
and more adventurous spirits who finally crossed the sea to
the new land, especially among the women.

If such people reach a land that is relatively uninhabited, or
if they drive out the old inhabitants without mingling with them
to any great extent, as appears to have happened when the
Japanese drove out the Ainus, they have a great advantage.
The stupid, the weak, the cowardly, the conservative, have been
eliminated. Like must marry like, and the good qualities of
the migrants are preserved. This is especially likely to happen
if further migration is checked, as is notably illustrated in Ice-
land. After the first migrants have reached a new land and
civilization has become established, further migration becomes
relatively easy so that the degree of selection is not high. In
Japan we do not know the extent of later immigration, but we
are sure that there was very little for many centuries. Thus
it appears probable that the island character of Japan not only
exerted a highly beneficial selection on the early settlers,
but provided comparative isolation so that the original qualities
of the first settlers have been preserved, and civilization has
been able to develop normally without the interruptions and
set-backs due to repeated invasions and immigration.

In later times that same island character, together with the
highly mountainous nature of the interior, has probably been
an advantage because so large a portion of the Japanese have
been compelled to live near the sea coast. That appears to be
a real advantage from the point of view of health and energy,
but it is also an advantage because such people become fisher-
men and go down to the sea in ships. In Japan this has been
particularly easy because of the enormous number of bays and
small islands arising from the drowned character of the shores.
Fishing is a hard and dangerous mode of life. The coasts of
Japan are stormy enough so that frequent accidents are bound

THE CAUSES OF THE CONTRAST 189

to occur. The proportion of the Japanese who have been sea-
faring people, and the percentage who have lost their lives,
have probably been large enough to have a real effect in weed-
ing out the men who are less alert in mind and. body, less willing
to obey at the word of command, and less able to take care of
themselves in an emergency.

Abundant figures show that in maritime countries the death
rate among young men at the ages when they first go to sea Is
very high, being higher than among young women of corre-
sponding ages by about seventy-five per cent in Iceland and
twenty-five per cent in Norway. In Japan, although no figures
are available, there is every reason to think that similar con-
ditions still prevail and were far more prevalent in earlier days
when manufacturing had not developed, and fishing was an in-
dustry of relatively greater importance. To be sure, the selec-
tive effect upon the fishermen in Japan is by no means so great
as in Iceland or Norway because the waters are not so cold and
stormy, and voyages are not so long. Nevertheless, so far
as this was a factor, it must have tended to make the Japanese
alert and competent. Thus an initial selection of immigrants,
and a later selection in every generation have combined with
the effect of the island in maintaining isolation, thus permitting
the Japanese to evolve their own culture, and maintain the
characteristics with which they were originally endowed.

The next point to be considered is the direct effect of the
climate upon health. This may be discussed briefly. Japan,
as we have seen, is the only part of Asia which has a genuine
cyclonic climate. Because of the long, warm, wet summers the
conditions there are not so stimulating as in the North Sea
region of Europe or in the northern United States; nor do they
equal those on the Pacific Coast of the United States, and in
New Zealand and the extreme southeastern part of Australia.
Nevertheless, even in summer the monotony of the heat and

I go THE HUMAN HABITAT

dampness in Japan Is relieved by glorious days of blue sky and
strong, cool winds following a storm. In winter, on the other
hand, the climate is in many respects almost Ideal cool
enough and stormy enough to be bracing, but not to do harm
to health.

Turning now to China, one would expect the north to be
more progressive than the south. Other regions within 30 to
40 of the equator are almost invariably more progressive than
the neighboring regions lying in latitudes 25 to 30. Yet in
China, as we have already seen, the south is progressive, the
north conservative. This arises partly from the peculiar cli-
matic conditions. Although South China is distinctly tropical
during the summer, its winter climate is better than that of al-
most any other region of similar latitude. This is because the
extremely low temperature of Siberia causes strong cold winds
to blow outward. These sometimes bring frosts as far south
as Canton, and make even Hongkong on its island quite chilly.
Nevertheless, the temperature is rarely low enough to produce
serious consequences. The result is that although the sum-
mers are debilitating, the winters are stimulating; the only
trouble being that they do not last long enough.

In North China the summers are nearly as bad as in
South China, but nothing like so long. The winters, on the
other hand, are very severe; temperatures below zero being
frequent. The worst feature is the strong, dry, dust-laden
winds. Numerous studies, as we have already explained, show
that -in winter as well as during all except the very hot weather
of summer, continued dry weather is distinctly less healthful
than that which is moister and more variable. Great dustiness
added to great dryness is especially harmful. In North China
the handicap thus arising is so heavy that the healthfulness and
stimulating qualities are scarcely greater than in the south.

Let us turn next to the indirect effects of the Chinese climate.

THE CAUSES OF THE CONTRAST IQI

Here the relation of North China to the deserts and plateaus
farther north and west comes into play. In earlier chapters we
have discussed the problem of historic pulsations of climate.
We have seen that a change toward aridity may drive the peo-
ple of the deserts outward in great migrations. A change to-
ward greater rainfall with heavier snows may produce a similar
effect upon people like the Tibetans who live in high plateaus.

The part of the world where climatic pulsations appear to
have had most effect upon men during historic times is the dry
regions of Asia from the borders of Manchuria westward to
the Mediterranean. New and highly convincing facts along
this line have lately been added to our store of knowledge by
Professors Berkey and Morris as a result of their work with
the Andrews' expeditions for the American Museum of Natural
History. Their work, like that of their predecessors, makes it
clear that during historic times a constant series of climatic
pulsations large and small has taken place, and has driven the
people of the deserts and plateaus outward again and again.
The Great Wall of China, as we have seen, was built some-
thing more than two hundred years before Christ in order to
check such migrations at a time of rapidly increasing aridity.
But no human wall is able to check the forces of nature.
Whenever their land has been unusually dry, the nomads have
swooped down upon China in great hordes, or else have trickled
through the wall in small bodies time after time.

One result of this is that North China has been ruled by
foreign dynasties during practically half of the last two thou-
sand years. The regular sequence in Chinese history is, first,
a period of domination by northern or western foreigners like
the Manchus; then a period of anarchy like the early decades
of the present century; and finally a southern dynasty. After
a period of quiet, which may last decades or centuries, another
invasion occurs, coming from the north like that of the Mon-

192 THE HUMAN HABITAT

gols, or from the west like that which established a Tibetan
dynasty.

Such migrations are bound to have a great effect upon the
racial composition and social organization of the people. In-
stitutions, customs, cities which have grown up during long
periods of painful effort may be overthrown and perhaps de-
stroyed in a day. Then a long, slow process of re-building has
to begin once more. In addition to this, such migrations almost
always dispossess a considerable number of people, and drive
them forth as wanderers.

It is probably no exaggeration to say that during the last two
thousand years, hundreds of millions of people in North China
have been compelled to change their homes by reason of migra-
tions from the north and west. Whether the people who move
out are of higher or lower caliber than those who corne in, is
open to question. The invaders on the whole appear to have
been relatively competent, for pastoral nomads must be
vigorous, alert and resourceful in order to survive. They must
possess the power of leadership and cooperation or else they
are eliminated in the struggle for existence. That is one rea-
son why nomadic invaders coming into China or almost any
other country are generally able to impose themselves as a rul-
ing class. It it quite probable, however, that the people whom
they displace are among the most able of the former population.
In the fighting it is naturally the brave and courageous who are
killed, while the cowardly run away and hide. Then when the
new people have imposed their rule and taken the land into
their possession, it is the old landowners and aristocracy who
are most likely to be forced to wander away to other parts of
the world. Such seems to have been the case in China. The
wanderers went south into the Yangtse Valley. Some went up
the Yangtse to the province of Szechuan in the famous Red
Basin, and others southward into the hilly country as far as

THE CAUSES OF THE CONTRAST 193

Canton and the coast. Such migrations seem to be the main
reason why the Chinese of the south are more purely Chinese
than those of the north. They are also a main reason for the
progressive and competent quality of the Chinese of the
south.

The last physical factor which seems to have differentiated
North China from South China, and still more from Japan, is
famines. North China is peculiarly unfortunate because it
combines highly irregular climatic conditions with a topog-
raphy extremely favorable to floods. The climatic difficulty
is that the rainfall is extremely seasonal and extremely irregu-
lar. In North China most of the rain comes during the months
from June to September. During that season it falls heavily.
Because of the long dry winters the mountains, even if left
alone by man, are only imperfectly covered with vegetation
and do not hold the rain very well. Since the mountains are
steep, the rain runs off still more rapidly. Thus even under
the best conditions, the floods are likely to be extreme. The
Chinese have made the matter much worse by ruthlessly cut-
ting off the trees. Thus the annual floods during the sum-
mer are always of large dimensions. Moreover, the water is
very muddy and therefore deposits large amounts of material
In its bed as it flows through the lowlands.

Normally as soon as a river raises its bed, it breaks loose
and flows somewhere else. That is what makes alluvial plains
so vast and so flat. As soon as the rivers are confined arti-
ficially by dikes, the stream beds rise higher and higher, and
the dikes have to be raised accordingly; as has happened to our
own Mississippi. There seems to be no visible end to dis-
asters like the flood of 1927 unless we provide definite means
whereby the river, after a certain length of time, may change its
course and build up some other part of its flood plain. In
China the situation is rendered worse because the summer rains

194 THE HUMAN HABITAT

are sometimes tremendously heavy, so heavy that they actu-
ally flood the lower depressions in the gently swelling plains
to a depth of several feet even if the rivers do not spill over.
Then when the rivers break loose, the conditions are inde-
scribable.

During the year 1927, the United States was horrified by a
tremendous flood of the Mississippi River which inundated
twenty thousand square miles, or as much as Massachusetts,
Connecticut and New Jersey combined. It damaged property
to an extent estimated at anywhere from two hundred million
to a billion dollars. Worst of all it drove nearly three-quarters
of a million people from their homes, and compelled six hun-
dred thousand of them to depend on the Red Cross. Anyone
who read the papers at that time knows how huge the calamity
seemed. They know how the resources of the whole nation
were called upon. The Red Cross sent its people there; the
Army was ordered to help; the national government sent agents
and so did state governments. There was a strong demand for
a special session of Congress in order to provide relief for the
sufferers. When the flood was over, the population in the af-
flicted towns was different from what it had been before. In
most cases it was smaller, for some of the people did not return
to their old homes. Just what the ultimate selective effect will
be is not yet clear. In some cases the industrial workers in the
small cities failed to return. Having found work elsewhere
they saw nothing to tempt them back, for the industries in the
flood area were prostrate. Most of the small landowners ap-
parently went back, as did a large part of the huge army of
colored tenants. In the case of the large landowners, however,
the case is not so clear. The men indeed, went back, at least
temporarily, to get their land under cultivation once more, but
a well-to-do family which had been driven from its home and
had become established elsewhere is likely to remain away for

THE CAUSES OF THE CONTEAST 195

some time and perhaps permanently rather than run the risk
of again enduring the horrors of flood.

If the Mississippi Flood had occurred in China, it would have
been considered a small affair. America would scarcely have
heard of it. Those who have studied the problem say that
somewhere in China, mainly in North China, a flood which af-
fects as many people as our Mississippi flood of 1927 occurs
every two or three years. Once in a decade or so floods afflict
millions of people, the number sometimes running up to thirty,
forty or fifty millions. Suppose that our Mississippi flood had
been ten times as bad as it was; then it would have been no
worse for us than the Chinese floods are for them. But the
poor Chinese have no powerful government behind them; they
cannot draw on the sympathy, wealth and active cooperation
of the richest nation in the world; they have few railroads and
no big fleet of power-driven river boats and launches to take
care of them; only within a few years have they even had a
Famine Relief Commission and a Red Cross run by foreigners.

Even yet the full tale is not before us. China suffers from
famines due not only to floods, but to droughts. A famine due
to drought often arises not because of lack of rain, but because
the rain comes too late to permit the crops to develop. Some-
times such a drought may be followed by flood, and very often
a drought one year is followed by a flood the next. Frequently
the droughts last several years. Then a famine affects far
larger areas than in the case of floods, so that sometimes a
hundred million people suffer at one time.

Space forbids us to enter Into all the ramifications of the
effect of famines. In brief, the case is this. When a famine is
due to drought, the people who hold a good economic position
may not suffer for some time. The price of food goes up, but
there is no sudden disaster. Those who are thrifty, economical
and foresighted, suffer relatively little. Thus the selective

196 THE HUMAN HABITAT

effect of famines due to drought may be highly beneficial, for it
weeds out the persons who are wasteful, who are so lacking in
self-control that they eat up their supplies in a hurry, or who
are unthrifty and fail to lay by as much as possible for the fu-
ture. Such famines must also weed out a great many who are
constitutionally weak in either body or mind. They likewise
put a premium not only upon the ability to endure long periods
of scanty food, but upon many fine qualities such as thrift and
economy.

If this were the whole story, China's case might not be so
bad. But in a dry famine which lasts several years and in most
of the wet famines due to flood, the people of large areas are
ultimately forced to leave their homes, no matter how thrifty,
economical and well-to-do they may be. When that happens, a
wholly different kind of selection appears to take place. Sup-
pose such a famine had begun to rage in your district; your
business was dead, your savings were yielding little or noth-
ing; and prices were soaring. What would you do? If you
are intelligent, you would probably say that the best thing to
do is to get out while the going is good. Get ahead of the crowd
and go far enough so that the crowd will never catch up. You
might go to the city, thinking to get a job there before the
crowd came and there were twenty applicants for every job.
You might go to some distant province where there had been no
flood or drought. These courses are just the ones that the
more intelligent and thrifty Chinese pursue. Of course the
Chinese are bound to their homes more strongly than we are;
their ancestor worship takes them back in a way unknown
among us. Nevertheless, the Chinese migrate in vast numbers
and for long distances. During every one of the greater fam-
ines, millions of people wander forth, some to go purposively
to places where they can get a living, others to wander hope-
lessly hither and thither like flotsam on a stormy sea.

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THE .CAUSES OF THE CONTRAST 197

When a famine is over, who comes back to the old homes?
The first to come are the poorest. They have not found work
in the cities; they have lacked the wisdom and initiative to go
far away; their one great yearning is to get back to the land
that has fed them. But often their land has become salty by
reason of the evaporation of the water from it, or sandy be-
cause the river has deposited new material. Under any cir-
cumstances, it is not likely at first to yield such good crops as
formerly. Moreover, new houses have to be built and the diffi-
culties of life are great. Therefore only the poorest and least
competent who cannot do anything else bring back their fam-
ilies immediately. Little by little the others return, but a cer-
tain proportion who are especially skilled in handicrafts or
otherwise, or who have gone far away, or feel well established
in new and favorable positions, never come back. The most
competent of all may indeed come back, for they are the large
landowners. Naturally they do not abandon their property,
even though they may leave their families in the cities for a
while. Nevertheless, each great famine means the loss of some
of the more competent people. Part of them re-enforce the
cities, but the descendants of such people tend to die out
because of high death rates and low birth rates which are char-
acteristic of cities. Others strengthen distant regions such as
the Red Basin of Sz^chuan or the southern regions where fam-
ines are rare. But the poor famine regions tend more and more
to be populated mainly by a vast mass of stupid and inefficient
peasantry, controlled but not leavened by an efficient though
small group of landowning aristocrats.

Many other phases of this great problem are most fascinat-
ing. Enough has been said, however, to show that geographic
conditions go far toward explaining the present status of China
and Japan. In both countries, but especially in Japan and
South China, the rice-raising type of culture is the foundation,

ig8 THE HUMAN HABITAT

for there it reaches its highest development. Japan, by reason
of its island character, has the advantage not only of a highly
selected body of immigrants at first, but of relative freedom
from immigration or disturbance so that the early qualities of
activity, adaptability and initiative have been preserved. A
climate much more invigorating than that of most parts of Asia
has also helped in this direction.

South China is handicapped by the fact that its climate is
somewhat enervating, but because of the cool winters it is not
so enervating as other climates in the same latitude. It has
been the gainer through selective immigration arising not only
by reason of barbaric invasions of the north, but by another
product of climatic pulsations in the form of famines.

North China has suffered terribly because it has been the
world's greatest seat of famines. The famines may have made
the people physically tough and mentally thrifty and economi-
cal, but they have also caused an alarming proportion of them
to be dull, conservative and inefficient by driving away those
with the opposite qualities. They have thus tended to convert
the population into a vast and incompetent peasantry with only
a small sprinkling of competent, landowning aristocrats.

And lastly, the desert regions of the cold plateaus have har-
bored a nomadic population which has constantly been driven
into China by climatic pulsations. How far or in what way
such migrations have changed the character of the nomad popu-
lation we do not know, but certainly the coming of the nomads
has had a tremendous effect upon China, especially upon the
north.

CHAPTER XIV

THE CIVILIZATION OF EUROPE

IN our study of the earth's decrees, we have examined sev-
eral types of human culture, each based upon some special as-
pect of nature. In Europe we find still another, wheat culture,
which culminates in the manufacturing type of civilization. In
order to see just where this stands let us recall the nature of the
other types. We began with the hunting and fishing type based
solely on wild animals. It still prevails in vast regions, but
only where the climate is as yet too cold, too dry, or too warm
and moist to permit any other mode of life except fishing or
mining. We then passed to pastoral nomadism, another form
of human culture dependent solely upon animals, but upon
those that have been domesticated. This prevails in enormous
tracts where the climate favors an abundant growth of grass,
but is too cool or dry for agriculture except in certain spots
such as oases. Like the hunting type, it necessitates frequent
migrations and thus dooms its people to a low stage of civiliza-
tion. Equally fatal to progress is the low mode of tropical life
known as hoe or tree culture, wherein people rely almost wholly
upon the fruits of trees like the banana and coconut, or upon
roots like the yam .which can be cultivated with a minimum of
labor among the trees and bushes. This likewise occupies vast
areas, so that these three lowest types, together with the unin-
habited lands, claim fully two-thirds of the earth's land sur-
face. All these are so handicapped by their environment that
they have never produced anything which can really be called
civilization.

199

200 THE HUMAN HABITAT

Above these in the scale of progress come four main types
of culture based on cereals, millet in Africa, corn in pre-Colum-
bian America, rice in southeastern Asia, and wheat in western
Asia, Europe, and the middle latitudes of modern America.
Each of these four cereals thrives best in a different physical
environment so that the degree to which man is able to ad-
vance varies greatly. We have already seen why people who
raise rice stand far ahead of other tropical people. The raisers
of corn likewise rose to a fairly high level in America before
the days of the white man. They might have surpassed the rice
people had they not been prevented from advancing into the
best climates by reasons which we shall explain in the next
chapter.

The millet type of human culture has never achieved any-
thing noteworthy. Millet includes a number of species; the
sorghums, for example, are large and cornlike except that the
small grains grow on the head instead of in ears; other less
important types are smaller and wheatlike. One or another
of these will grow in almost any moderately warm region, but
millet assumes an important place only in regions where there
is a long hot period and only a short or very irregular wet sea-
son. Elsewhere people raise something else. In Africa millet
is the staple crop of the border regions between the pastoral
part of the Sudan and the more equatorial regions where hoe
and tree culture prevail. It is also a main source of food on
the southern margin of the tropical belt of Africa, where rain
falls only for a short time when the sun is highest, and in cor-
responding parts of the Indian Peninsula and in the parts of
North China where a delay in the summer rains most fre-
quently brings dangerous droughts. The millet people are
especially handicapped not only because the millets are gener-
ally less nutritious than the other major cereals and are raised
mainly where the climate is unstimulating, but because the cli-

THE CIVILIZATION OF EUROPE 2OI

mate is also especially unreliable. That indeed is the reason
why millet is used, for if a sufficiency of rain is assured, some
better crop is almost certain to be substituted. Thus wher-
ever millet is the main crop, progress is almost always sub-
ject to the heavy handicap of frequent and severe droughts
which produce terrible famines, as we have already seen in
China.

Wheat culture presents quite a different situation, for in al-
most every respect the regions where it thrives have peculiar
advantages. Let us begin far back and examine the geographi-
cal conditions which have moulded the progress of this type of
culture from its primitive beginnings to its culmination in the
modern industrial type of civilization. Wheat must not be con-
sidered alone, for it is merely the best of a group of cereals all
of which require the same methods of cultivation. All the oth-
ers thrive in the climate best suited for wheat, but will grow
well under certain conditions which are unfavorable for wheat.
Thus barley and some of the smaller millets can be substituted
for wheat in regions too dry for the better cereal. If the wheat
farmer migrates into regions too cold for his old standby, he
can cultivate rye or oats without having to change his methods
to any appreciable extent. In places where the soil is poor,
either barley or rye, according to the climate, can take the place
of wheat. Thus as soon as people learned how to raise wheat
or barley they possessed a technique which made it possible
for them easily to make a living in vast areas of widely vary-
ing types. In addition to this, wheat, barley and even rye can
be grown as either winter or spring crops which greatly en-
larges the climatic areas to which they are adapted. Wheat
and barley are both natives of the Mediterranean type of cli-
mate, wild wheat being now found in Palestine. Thus they
are primarily adjusted to a climate where the seeds germinate
when the autumn rains begin in September, October or Novem-

2Q2 THE HUMAN HABITAT

ber, after the long dry summer. Although the growth of the
seedlings is checked during the cooler months, it is by no means
stopped, for frost and snow are only temporary. When the
weather begins to become warm in the spring they make a
rapid growth and mature their seed by the time the dry season
conies on, which may be anywhere from April to June. Sup-
pose that the seed which then ripens is not allowed to sprout
in the rains of the following autumn, but is carried north to a
climate where the winters are cold and snowy. It can be
planted in the spring and will ripen its grain in the fall. Thus
it becomes spring wheat instead of winter wheat, and the range
of climate where it can be grown is vastly enlarged.

Still another important fact is that the climate where wheat
is indigenous is more healthful and stimulating than are the
more tropical or sub-tropical climates which appear to have
been the original homes of rice, corn and millet. Moreover, al-
though we do not know exactly when or where the cultivation
of wheat and barley began, we are almost certain that both
events occurred in some eastern Mediterranean land so long
ago that the climate much of the time for several thousand
years thereafter was stormier and more stimulating than at
present. Thus, although the first wheat people doubtless lived
in a fairly warm climate with a pronounced dry season in sum-
mer, they had the advantage not only of a climate more en-
ergizing than that of the rice, corn or millet people, but of a
mode of life easily capable of being expanded northward into
still more stimulating climates as fast as man learned to over-
come the handicaps of low temperature, grasslands and forests.

Before any type of human culture can spread abroad, it
must develop its own technique, that is, its methods of work, of
government, of training for the young, and the like. The en-
vironment taken in conjunction with the nature of the main
crop has an enormous influence in this respect, as we saw in

THE CIVILIZATION OF EUROPE 203

our study of rice. Suppose that you were a primitive, flint-
using hunter to whose highly original mind there came the revo-
lutionary idea of assuring to yourself and your children a large
and permanent supply of nutritious food by raising some of the
seeds that you had been in the habit of gathering in small
quantities by laborious search for the wild plants. If you hap-
pened to live in a prairie region you would soon give up in de-
spair. A few experiments would convince you that it is useless
to plant wheat in the midst of grass. Even if you burn off all
the grass, its roots will sprout more speedily than your seed
and will choke most of the seedlings. In the forest you might
find that your seeds would produce nothing in the shade, but
would grow quite well if dropped into little holes in some
chance open spaces. Nevertheless the return for your labor
would be discouragingly small because even the largest natural
clearings would be of insignificant size, and any that you might
make with your crude stone tools at that stage of develop-
ment would not amount to much. Moreover, even if you had
a good clearing and could keep it free from trees, you could
not prevent it from turning into grassland, for you have neither
animals wherewith to plow the sod, nor good iron tools where-
with to dig it. But suppose you live near a river and in a cli-
mate and a topography such that great floods inundate the land
at certain seasons, but disappear in due time and leave large
tracts of land soaked with water and covered with mud. If the
floods are followed by a warm dry season, few trees will grow
in such places; almost the only other vegetation will be grasses
growing in clumps which can easily be rooted up by hand.
Sow yoiite seed there in the wet earth as soon as the floods re-
tire, and ybu can get a good crop year after year.

When you have gone thus far in making use of natural Irri-
gation, you discover that something more is needed. In order
to prevent your crop from getting too dry before it is mature,

2O4 THE HUMAN HABITAT

you may find it expedient to build a wall of mud somewhere up-
stream from your field, and make a reservoir, or divert some
water from the river. Then by making little walls around your
field and digging a ditch In just the right way, you can give
the crop a second watering. If you do that, you may find your-
self going farther and constructing a more elaborate system of
embankments, ditches, mud dikes, terraced fields and pumping
devices. You will also find that it pays to clear the land of
weeds before the flood comes. All this will make you want
definite boundaries which others will respect, and there-
fore you will become an advocate of law, order, government.
Moreover, you will have to stay by your fields a good deal of
the time. If you go off to hunt or to take care of cattle, wild
animals will eat your young field or lie down and roll in it.
When the grain is ripening, not only they but many birds and
some of the wild men round about who do not yet practice
agriculture will be only too glad to eat the crop as fast as pos-
sible. But mere watching is not enough; you must gather the
ripe grain before it falls from the heads and is lost. So you
must evolve a technique for harvesting the crop as fast as pos-
sible and must have the help of your whole family. Then
you must devise a method of threshing the grain, storing
It, and protecting it from rain and rodents, insects and bac-
teria. The longer the dry or cold part of the year, the easier
this is.

Even the poorest grains are more easily preserved than
fruits, vegetables or roots, but wheat is almost the best of all
kinds of food in this respect, not only because of its hardness
but because of the relatively dry cool climates where it is raised.
The advantages of the wheat raisers in storing their grain do
them little good unless they protect their food supply from hu-
man thieves as well as from rain, rust and rodents. So you,
as a primitive wheat raiser, acquire another potent reason for

THE CIVILIZATION OF EUROPE 205

evolving a stable, civilized social system with property lines
which need to be marked and recorded, with a regular system
as to the digging of ditches and the parcelling out of the water,
and with people whose duty it is to prevent theft and preserve
the established order.

But what does all this mean? Already we are establishing
a rather complex civilization with the necessity for written rec-
ords, geometrical means of laying out boundaries, a system of
public works and police, and the necessity for paying taxes in
order to recompense the people who do public work. We seem
to be ages removed from the primitive hunter or even the pas-
toral nomad. We are face to face with the potency of agricul-
ture, especially the irrigation type, to compel men to become
civilized. Only In certain highly limited types of environment
was this development possible. Here are the requisites: a cli-
mate right for wheat, barley, rice, corn or millet; a flood-plain;
floods of the type that bring down mud and do not encourage
the growth of trees; a warm period after the floods subside to
enable the grain to grow quickly; a dry period when the grain
approaches maturity so that it may ripen properly and be har-
vested and stored without loss. These requisites might be met
by a small flood plain, but a large one is far better. If the
primitive farmers with whom we are identifying ourselves live
beside small streams they are often hampered because they are
still in close contact with wild hunters or pastoral nomads who
raid them unmercifully and steal their hard-won crops. The
ravages of beasts and birds are correspondingly severe, for
what wild pig or pigeon would refrain from gorging itself where
grain is so abundant? Even in our day the isolated farmer
often suffers heavily from just such causes. But if the flood
plain is large, the irrigators will be able to protect themselves
from marauders both human and animal; those in the center
will be protected by those on the outside, but they will soon

2O6 THE HUMAN HABITAT

realize that they must help the outsiders or themselves soon be
exposed to ravages. That will join with irrigation and all the
other factors in stimulating the people of the flood plains to
frame an efficient type of government.

One of the most important phases of the great transition
from other modes of life to agriculture based on cereals and ir-
rigation is the selection which must inevitably occur, and the
subsequent increase in the number of the people who choose
the new mode of life. When people first began to settle in the
flood plains we may be certain that it was not the conservatives
who left the old mode of life and took up the new; it was not
the stupid or those most prone to live from hand to mouth; it
was not the physically weak or those especially averse to physi-
cal labor; nor was it those who were fondest of the chase and so
successful in it that they rarely felt the pinch of want. Unless
the men of those days were utterly different from those of to-
day, the ones who took up the new discovery were progressive
in temperament, thrifty and intelligent enough to plan far into
the future, physically strong and not averse to labor, and per-
haps socially-minded so that they liked to be near neighbors.
When the children of such people were old enough to marry,
they must have married their own kind, as a rule, because
propinquity and similarity of social standards are dominant
factors in determining marriage. Their children in turn must
have been strongly endowed with similar qualities derived
from both parents. Moreover, at first, for many generations
while the new civilization was taking form, there must have
been a % highly selective reverse movement away from agricul-
ture and back to hunting or pastoralism. It must have affected
the people to whom physical work, steady or even intermittent
industry, and submission to authority were irksome. Thus the
innate characteristics of the agricultural population must have
become different from those of the other groups and must

THE CIVILIZATION OF EUROPE 207

have been appropriate to a sedentary, industrious, law-abiding
people.

In an earlier chapter we said that at any given stage of
human development, the population tends to be about as dense
as is compatible with the geographic environment. Before the
advent of agriculture, ancient Egypt or Mesopotamia may have
been able to support one hunter for every square mile; a few
generations later the number may have been ten, twenty, or
perchance a hundred times as great, depending on how rapidly
the new art developed. But anyhow, it was many times as
great. Were the additional people derived from the hunting
or pastoral group outside the agricultural area? Not to any
great extent, for that is not the way mankind behaves. When
the economic basis of life is broadened, and when the condi-
tions of nutrition and health are improved, as must have hap-
pened with the adoption of agriculture, the birthrate and espe-
cially the survival rate of children increase at once. When
the early colonists came to America, they had very large
families, larger than those of the corresponding classes of so-
ciety in the old homes. Whenever people go to a new region
where there are great opportunities for economic expansion the
same thing occurs. This leads us to conclude that when agri-
culture was newly established, the world's population undoubt-
edly experienced a rapid increase. The additional people were
mainly the descendants of those who had chosen to practice
the new art. Therefore they must have inherited an unusual
degree of the mental and physical qualities which promote civi-
lization. Moreover, in the big flood plains the people of this
kind were numerous enough and near enough together so that
they stimulated and helped one another. Now we begin to see
why treeless flood plains in fairly warm regions with long dry
seasons have been the main centers of early civilization the
plains of the Nile, Euphrates, Tigris, Indus and Huang in the

THE HUMAN HABITAT

Old World, and of a series of smaller streams in Peru and

Mexico.

The geographical environment of the flood plains in the lands
near the eastern Mediterranean gave the early raisers of wheat
and barley certain advantages which need further explanation.
One of the greatest advantages was the animals which they
could domesticate. To us who live in a civilization dependent
upon coal, steam and electricity, it is almost impossible to ap-
preciate the importance of animals, not merely as a source of
food, but still more as a source of power. In fact most of us
fail to realize that because we run a vast number of machines
by means of coal, petroleum, and water power, we multiply
the work of each individual scores of times. If everything used
in the construction and operation of your house had to be
brought on men's backs, what kind of house could you afford,
how much furniture, how many imported goods ? and how great
a variety of foods, ornaments and the like? Do you eat or-
anges? How much would a box of oranges cost if it had to
come from Florida on the back of a human porter? Perhaps
you have a tiled fireplace, costing a hundred dollars or so
the equivalent of the work of an unskilled laborer for twenty-
five or thirty days. But suppose no machine had been used in
digging the clay for the bricks and tiles, cutting the wood that
borders the bricks, getting out the sand, lime and cement for
the mortar, making the trowels, shovels, brooms, hammers and
other tools that were used at one stage or another, or in bring-
ing the various materials from a hundred miles in one direction,
two hundred in another, fifty in a third, and two thousand in a
fourth. Then how many days' work would it have cost? A
hundred? A thousand? No one can tell, but the mere job of
bringing the wood from the mountains of Oregon on a man's
back would probably mean that you could not afford any such
fireplace.

THE CIVILIZATION OF EUROPE 209

The main importance of domestic animals lies In the fact
that aside from waterways they were the first great means of
multiplying man's labors. Commerce could never be very ac-
tive, on land at least., until loads were carried on the backs of
animals. Nor could people travel far and frequently and thus
obtain new ideas from other places until they could ride on ani-
mals, or else use waterways. In fact the ability to use both
animals and waterways was doubtless one of the greatest fac-
tors in enabling early civilization to make such rapid progress
in the great deltaic plains of Egypt and Mesopotamia. An even
more important contribution of animals to civilization in the
long run may have been that they made it possible to plow the
land. That greatly increased the area that any one man could
cultivate even in the flood plains, and thus gave surplus wealth
and freedom wherewith to do such things as invent writing, find
out how to measure land, use wheels for transportation, and
make knives, spears, plows, and hoes of iron. Outside the flood
plains the art of plowing did something still more important,
for it enabled man to spread agriculture into grasslands and
forests, and into the climates that are most stimulating.

What kind of animal is most useful to man? The best of all
animals would possess the following qualities: its flesh would
be good to eat; it would grow rapidly so that a small amount of
forage would provide a large amount of meat; it would furnish
abundant milk; its body would be covered with wool good for
clothing, while a hairy mane and tail would furnish material for
strings, tent cloth and the like; it would be big enough to carry
a man with a little baggage, but not so .big that its owner when
traveling alone would have to give it much more food than
would be needed for a beast just comfortably capable of doing
the work; it would be able to endure all sorts of climates; it
would be speedy; it would be high-spirited and not give up
under difficulties; it would also be intelligent and tractable;

2IO THE HUMAN HABITAT

and it would have hard hoofs so that it could dig into the ground
thereby getting the benefit of its full weight when it was used
for plowing or other kinds of hauling. No animal possesses all
these qualities. The horse comes nearest to the ideal; cattle,
especially the European type, stand high, but lack intelligence
and spirit; the donkey is good except that it is a trifle too small
and is more stubborn than the horse; the camel is too big and
stupid, it cannot pull well because its hoofs are not hard and
it is adapted to only a small range of climate; the sheep, goat
and llama are good from the standpoint of wool, milk, and hair,
but are too small for riding and not very intelligent; the rein-
deer would be excellent if it were a little larger and were adapted
to a wider range of climate, but its feet, like those of all beasts
with cloven hoofs, are not so good for hauling as are those of the
horse and donkey; the pig is useful for little except food. It is
astonishing to see how few animals are really of much use to
man, and how the horse stands out as preeminently the most
valuable so far as the progress of civilization is concerned,
while cattle in one form or another come next.

The geographic distribution of these few useful animals has
given a great advantage to the people who started wheat cul-
ture east of the Mediterranean Sea. The hoe people have prac-
tically no domestic animals, not because they are not needed,
but because the more valuable types do not thrive in their re-
gion by reason of the dense jungle, the coarseness, toughness,
and scarcity of grasses, and the presence of harmful insects and
bacteria. The corn people of ancient America likewise had no
domestic animals aside from the llama in Peru and the dog
and turkey elsewhere. The llama is one of the least useful
animals in our list. The American bison, which represents the
cattle genus in America, is too large, stupid and completely
gregarious for domestication. Such conditions put the corn
type of culture under a heavy handicap, as we shall see later.

THE CIVILIZATION OF EUROPE 211

The rice 1 people fared better than the corn people, but the
water buffalo, which is the main species of cattle in rice regions,
Is of little use outside wet fields. He cannot live far from the
water, and at best is slow, stupid and often dangerous. The
Indian and Javanese types of cattle are better, but are not so
useful as the buffalo in the wet fields, and scarcely as good as
European cattle for other purposes, especially milk. Unfortu-
nately horses, donkeys, European cattle, sheep and goats, not
to mention camels and the rest, do not thrive in the climates that
are best for rice. The long, wet summers are bad for them,
the coarse, tough, bulky grasses injure their delicate mouths
and stomachs, and rice straw is not nutritious. The millet peo-
ple fare better, for most of the more useful domestic animals
can live in the main millet regions. Nevertheless the exces-
sive dryness for long periods, followed by excessive moisture
puts these animals at a disadvantage. Where millet is the main
crop a fair number of cattle and pigs are likely to be found, un-
less the tsetse fly prevails, but other animals are generally few
in numbers and of poor quality.

Among the wheat people the situation as to animals is very
different. The regions where wheat was first cultivated are
favorable to horses, donkeys, cattle, sheep, goats, water buf-
faloes and camels. The reason is not merely that the, climate
has a moderately cool season as well as a hot season and is
neither extremely wet nor extremely dry, but that the grass
which grows there is soft, fine and highly nutritious when dry
as well as when fresh. The abundance of good animals enabled
the wheat people to produce a surplus because they could plow
the land, haul home their crops, and thus multiply their own
labor far more than anywhere else. That enabled them to pro-
duce a correspondingly large surplus and broad basis for
civilization. In conjunction with the openness of the Mediter-
ranean countries, with their broad grassy expanses and few

212 THE HUMAN HABITAT

trees, It made commerce and communication easy. This in it-
self must have given the wheat people a great advantage in the
race of progress. Another important consideration is that in
the early wheat regions for the first time we find animals of a
kind that supply abundant milk as well as meat and that fur-
nish valuable wool and soft, useful hair like that of the goat and
camel, thus greatly increasing man's health and comfort.

In addition to all this, the qualities of the animals made it
possible to take advantage of the fact that wheat and barley can
be raised as spring crops as well as winter crops, and of the
further fact that rye and oats as well as barley are cultivated
in the same way as wheat. Being able to plow any kind of
land when once the trees are removed, the wheat type of cul-
ture was able to migrate into more and more stimulating cli-
mates just as fast as the use of metals and the ability to keep
warm increased man's power over forests and low tempera-
ture. Thus at the start the type of wheat and barley culture
which was first possible on a large scale in Egypt and Mesopo-
tamia had an advantage over other types of human culture,
not only in irrigation which it shared with the rice and corn
types; but in a more healthful and stimulating climate; better
food because of the kinds of animals as well as the grain that it
could use; greater opportunity to multiply man's power by
means of animals as well as waterways and thus provide the
surplus needed by civilization; greater power to engage in com-
merce and communication by reason of those same animals;
greater power to spread agriculture beyond the immediate
limits of the flood plains because the animals made it possible
to plow the soil; and finally the power to move into other re-
gions in response either to changes of climate or man's own
changing ability to control nature. Thus when civilization
finally moved into Europe that continent reaped the benefit
of all the geographic circumstances which had combined tc

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THE CIVILIZATION OF EUROPE 213

focus progress in the early wheat lands around the eastern
Mediterranean.

Even yet we have not finished our catalogue of the advan-
tages of Europe and of the way in which the geographic en-
vironment has helped to concentrate there the most rapid hu-
man progress. In order to understand the matter fully, we
must turn to the purely human element, the process of improv-
ing the human inheritance of Europe, in distinction from the
cultural inheritance.

It seems quite clear that the people of Europe, especially
around the North Sea, stand unusually high in energy, in-
ventiveness, adaptability and the spirit which makes people go
ahead and do things. One of the reasons for this may perhaps
be found in the origin of the European races. Aside from
North America, no part of the world has suffered such ex-
traordinary changes of climate as Europe. Twenty-five or
thirty thousand years ago, and at several earlier periods, great
sheets of ice covered regions where now the climate is the best
in the world from the standpoint of human health and activity.
At the same time the rest of Europe north of the Alps must have
been so cold and stormy as to be almost uninhabitable. A re-
peated recurrence of such epochs, alternating with interglacial
epochs when the climate was even milder than now, obviously
rendered much of Europe first uninhabitable for tens of thou-
sands of years and then even more habitable than at present.
In the cold periods the inhabitants must have been largely
driven out or exterminated; in the warm periods they must
have increased in numbers and have migrated back again to the
regions formerly occupied.

South of Europe in Africa and to the southeast in Asia lies
the world's greatest series of deserts. We have already seen
how great an effect has been produced upon the people of these
deserts by climatic pulsations during historic times. The far

214 THE HUMAN HABITAT

greater pulsations of the ice age, coincident with the advance
and retreat of the ice in Europe, must have produced still
more extensive migrations. When the ice was most extensive,
much of the Sahara Desert, at least in its northern portion, was
well watered and presumably an admirable home for mankind.
The same was true in the deserts of Asia. At the height of
the interglacial epochs, on the contrary, the desert conditions
were apparently even more intense and widespread than at
present. Thus in the deserts there must have been a con-
stantly recurring tendency to drive people away when Europe
was warm and hospitable, and to invite them when Europe was
cold and raw. Climatic fluctuations did not come to an end
with the retirement of the last ice sheet; between that time
and the beginning of recorded history there is abundant evi-
dence of climatic pulsations intermediate between those of the
glacial period and those of historic times. Thus on a larger
or smaller scale, and with varying degrees of intensity and
duration, this pushing, pulling process has prevailed through-
out practically the whole of man's existence.

It is easy to infer certain results of such extreme and persist-
ent climatic variations. Between the deserts and the area cov-
ered by the ice sheets lies the Mediterranean region and its east-
ward extension in Mesopotamia, Asia Minor and Persia. That
was the seat of the early wheat culture and of the greatest of all
developments in human history. Perhaps the modern indus-
trial revolution, and the knowledge of biology which has fol-
lowed in the wake of the theory of evolution, may in due time
produce equally revolutionary changes. Otherwise history
probably offers nothing comparable to the great inventions and
discoveries which took place in this Mediterranean and west-
ern Asiatic belt. There animals were domesticated; the plow
and other appliances of agriculture were invented; there writ-
ing evolved to a higher degree than anywhere else; the me-

THE CIVILIZATION OF EUROPE 215

chanical arts received their first great impetus in such Inven-
tions as the wheel and its application to transportation, spin-
ning and the grinding of corn. That too was the place where
the world's greatest ideas in education, government, philosophy
and religion originated. We of the present are merely meek
followers in many of these matters. There early science made
its greatest strides,, while printing, architecture and sculpture
flourished as nowhere else. Without disparaging the people of
other lands and other regions, it seems fair to say that during
the milleniums when civilization was making its first great
advances, and even down to the time of Christ, the people of
the Mediterranean belt and its Asiatic extension displayed an
extraordinary degree of ability. Of course the wheat type of
agriculture, with its favorable conditions for supplementing
man's energy by that of animals, was an important factor. So
too was the fact that the belt where all this occurred lies round
about the Mediterranean Sea and its branches in such a way
that communication by water is easy. Another favorable fac-
tor lay in the fact that most of the time in those days the belt
of storminess presumably lay farther south than now, so that
the climatic stimulus was great.

But behind all this lies still another factor. If we are right
as to the power of migrations to eliminate the weak and pre-
serve the strong, vigorous, adaptable and progressive, the
Mediterranean-Asiatic belt must have been peculiarly blessed.
It lies between the glacial regions of the northwest and the des-
erts of the southeast. Whenever the inhabitants were pushed
out of one or the other of these regions, the Mediterranean re-
gion and western Asia must have formed a sort of zone of com-
pression. Migrations, wars, suffering, and the drastic process
of selection whose effects we have seen so often must have been
the order of the day for thousands of years. There must also
have been great mingling of races, for that is always the result

2l6 THE HUMAN HABITAT

of migrations on any large scale. That would increase the op-
portunity for diversity and would therefore provide natural
selection with more varied and valuable material upon which
to work. The inevitable result would seem to be that the peo-
ple who finally formed the population of that belt must have
been an unusually competent and vigorous remnant, well able
to take advantage of their environment and evolve the wheat
type of civilization.

All this of course is inference, but it is based on a great many
facts. The details indeed are obscure, but the general fact of
constant migrations first one way and then the other, great
mixture of races, and vigorous natural selection seems well as-
sured. The inferred result corresponds exactly with what we
find, namely, a people of uncommon vigor, just the sort among
whom great discoveries and rapid progress would naturally
arise.

Now take a step farther. In northwestern Europe the last
period of habitability has been very short compared with man's
entire existence. No longer than ten thousand years ago much
of that region was either uninhabitable or else so stormy and
Inclement that few people could live there. With the ameliora-
tion of the climate, tribe after tribe moved in. They were still
moving in vigorously in the early part of the Christian Era. Of
course the movement was not all in one direction, for even if
climate alone had been responsible, the movement would have
been one way when the Asiatic deserts grew drier and Europe
more favorable, and the other way when the reverse took place.
Since other factors have also cooperated, the resultant move-
ments have been extremely complex. Nevertheless, in general
the tendency has been toward a northwestern migration. The
migrants have included Celts, Teutons, Angles, Saxons, Norse-
men, Goths, Vandals, Huns and Roman soldiers, but practically
all have come from the belt of compression between the deserts
of Africa and Asia and the cold lands of northern Europe and

THE CIVILIZATION OF EUROPE

217

eastern Siberia. In the course of these last migrations, a still
further sifting has occurred. Thus the present people of north-
western Europe represent the end result of a long, long process
of migration and natural selection. It is only to be expected
that they should display an extremely high degree of the quali-
ties which tend to promote survival in times of stress, and

From " Business Geography." Courtesy of John Wiley and Sons.
FIG. 3. DISTRIBUTION OP CLIMATIC ENERGY IN EUROPE.

to cause civilization to make progress when the stress is
removed.

So much for the people and for the type of civilization which
came out of the Mediterranean and west Asiatic zone of com-
pression. Now for the land into which the people and the cul-
ture migrated. It is perhaps the most highly favored part of
the earth. The advantage most stressed in this book is cli-
matic. It is summed up in Figure 3 which shows the distribu-

THE HUMAN HABITAT

tion of climatic energy in Europe according to the same criteria
used in constructing our map of climatic energy in the world
as a whole. Notice the dark area surrounding the North Sea
and including Great Britain, France, Germany, northern Italy,
the three Scandinavian countries, Holland, Belgium and Switz-
erland. Turn now to Figure 4, showing the distribution of

From " Business Geography." Courtesy of John Wiley and Sons.
FIG. 4. DISTRIBUTION OF HEALTH IN EUROPE. (Based on the death rate.)

health in the various European countries. In all essential re-
spects this map is like the other; there is the same dark area
surrounding the North Sea, the same bulges toward Italy, to-
ward the Black Sea, and along the Baltic. Even if abundant
other evidence were not before us, these two maps would be
enough to show that the distribution of health and energy is
very closely dependent upon that of climate. Now compare

THE CIVILIZATION OF EUROPE

Figure 5 with the other two. This depicts the distribution of
civilization according to the judgment of fifty well-informed
people of many nationalities, as already described. Here again,
the resemblance to the other three maps is so obvious that it
suffices merely to point it out. The dark North Sea area and
the three projections southeastward, eastward and northeast-

From " Business Geography." Courtesy of John Wiley and Sons.
FIG. 5. DISTRIBUTION OF CIVILIZATION IN EUROPE.

ward, are all there just as in the others. Obviously then, not
only does Europe have welF-nigh the finest and most stimulat-
ing climate in the whole world for people of our type of civiliza-
tion, but the distribution of health and of progress agree with
the climate just as we should expect. Thus after rigorous selec-
tion had presumably made the races of the zone of compression
unusually competent, and had helped them to utilize the advan-

22O THE HUMAN HABITAT

tages of Mesopotamia, Egypt, Greece and so forth, this same
culture was bequeathed to a freshly selected group of people
to whom was given the culminating advantage of the world's
best climate.

On top of all these come two other advantages which might
be called accidental were there really any such thing as acci-
dents. One is that no great mass of land rivals Europe in the
degree to which it is indented by deep arms of the sea, and is
traversed by plains or lowlands so that one sea coast is easily
accessible from another. No part of the area where the climate
is most stimulating, as shown in Figure 3, is as much as three
hundred miles from the ocean, and the greater part is much
nearer. Thus great numbers of the sons of Europe have been
trained by the power of the sea, and many of the weaker have
been winnowed out. Because the sea coasts are so extensive,
commerce is especially easy and the discovery of America
exerted an extraordinarily stimulating effect, for this was the
region whence America was most accessible.

Finally, the region where all the other conditions rank high-
est happens also to be a region where coal is especially abundant
and accessible. We have already referred to the mistaken idea
that coal is the cause of progress in manufacturing and of the
present industrial supremacy of Europe. Coal is not the cause;
Europe would probably hold nearly its present position in in-
dustry even if there were no coal. It would bring coal from
elsewhere just as it brings " petrol/' cotton, jute and the like.
In fact, the supremacy of Europe in manufacturing was as de-
cisive as now before the steam engine was invented, and when
coal had no special value. What coal has done is merely to
reinforce the commanding position bequeathed to Europe by
other conditions of long standing.

Here then is the geographical explanation of the fact that
the North Sea countries stand farther ahead in the path of
progress than does any other part of the world unless it be the

THE CIVILIZATION OF EUROPE 221

manufacturing sections of America where another selective
migration has brought Europe's children to another region of
marvelous climate and abundant coal; (i) the great climatic
fluctuations of the glacial period with their tremendous effect
upon migrations, natural selection, and the evolution of the
races in the belt of compression between the deserts and the
ice sheets; (2) the type of vegetation and of animals which
gave rise to the wheat type of culture with its dependence upon
animals and its possibilities for increasing man's strength by
using that of animals; (3) a most stimulating climate which
could be utilized because the wheat type of agriculture adapts
itself to the climates where man is physiologically at his best;
(4) an unpopulated region into which selective migration was
able to bring highly selected types of people In relatively recent
times; (5) a peculiarly favorable conformation of land and sea,
lowlands and highlands, and a peculiarly favorable position in
reference to America; (6) an abundance of coal whereby, when
the time came, man could still further increase his capacity to
multiply his own energy.

Is it any wonder then that Europe still dominates the world?
Is it surprising that the foreign commerce of the countries
within the most stimulating climatic area of Europe, is as large
as that of all the rest of the world combined? Is it any wonder
that those same countries, together with their offspring in
North America and Australia, possess three-fourths of the
world's wealth, eleven-twelfths of the world's steamships, that
they probably manufacture nine-tenths of the world's manufac-
tured goods, and that they govern two-thirds of the world's
habitable territory, and have a controlling voice in the develop-
ment of most of the remainder? With such a marvelous com-
bination of geographical advantages, it seems impossible that
nature could decree anything except that when civilization had
evolved far enough, the people of this region should dominate
the world.

CHAPTER XV

AMERICA PRESENT AND PAST

WHY are the United States and Canada so different from
Great Britain and Europe? Why are some parts of the United
States and Canada so different from other parts? Why is the
distribution of progress in these countries so different now from
what it was before the days of Columbus? These three ques-
tions by no means embrace the whole of human geography.
Yet complete answers to them would require a discussion of
practically the entire subject. The answers depend largely
upon the interplay of four great factors: first, selective migra-
tion; second, climate; third, resources; and fourth, stage of
development.

Americans often pride themselves on their activity, alertness,
progressiveness, and readiness to try something new. They
seem to Europeans to be always boasting that everything of
theirs is bigger, better, and more up-to-date than anywhere else.
Is all this because the United States is new and young, and has
not yet learned to do otherwise? It certainly seems to be true
that the newer a region is the more likely its people are to be
" boosters." Nowhere is this more evident than in the newly
settled parts of Australia. But what about the fact that a
similar spirit is obvious in China? In spite of the enormous
difference between Great Britain and China, the gradual transi-
tion from conservatism to the pioneer type of progressiveness
as one goes out into the more recently settled tracts is the same.
From England go to Nova Scotia or New England, thence to
Ontario or Illinois, and on to Alberta or Wyoming, and you will

222

AMERICA PRESENT AND PAST 223

find a change of character almost identical with what you will
find in going from conservative Shantung to southern Man-
churia, thence to central Manchuria and on to the north. The
same type of contrast, although to a milder degree, follows the
trail of Chinese migration from North China to South China,
and then across the sea to Formosa, Java or Hawaii. It can be
seen likewise if one goes with the Italian emigrants from Naples
to Buenos Aires and then into the newer parts of Argentina.
Even when one compares Bostonians who still live around Mas-
sachusetts Bay with those in New York ? in Florida, and finally
in China, Mexico, or equatorial regions, one likewise finds a
progressively strong development of what are well called the
characteristics of the pioneer.

Thus it appears that the contrasts with which we are now
concerned are not due to either new lands or old lands in them-
selves, but to the selection arising from migration. As a gen-
eral thing new lands are also remote and inaccessible, so that
they are not reached from the old lands at a single bound. The
usual method is for people to move into the nearest or most ac-
cessible region that suits them. Such movement, when purely
voluntary and unassisted, involves a selection on the basis of
health, optimism, the spirit of adventure and the like. It also
involves financial and social selection, for the well-to-do, unless
young and adventurous, are generally kept at home by their
worldly position, while the poor, unless they are unusually
enterprising, are kept at home by their poverty and by the
inefficiency which commonly lies at the root of that poverty.
After the migrants are established in their new homes, a later
generation is likely to migrate once more, as from New Eng-
land to Ohio and Illinois. Again selection takes place, al-
though all of the selective factors need not necessarily be the
same as before. When New England was settled the religious
factor played one of the chief roles; but when the sons of

224 THE HUMAN HABITAT

New England began to go West, the economic motive was
dominant. A generation or two later another similar migra-
tion and selection brought a new population to Iowa, Ne-
braska and the Dakotas. The last wave of all has done the
same thing for Wyoming, Montana, and the Canadian North-
west. Each time the resultant population in the newest region
has been more completely of the pioneer type than formerly.
It is as if each migration put people through a sieve whose
meshes more and more assume a peculiar shape.

Migration to new and unoccupied lands does not differ
greatly from migration to any other place with fresh oppor-
tunities. Those are what count. They cause the young men
and women who migrate from the country to the city to be
sifted in much the same way as are the people who go from the
older East to the newer West; and the same is true of the mi-
grants to Florida during the boom of 1925. The California
climate, a newly opened gold field, a tropical region with un-
usual opportunities for making a fortune are samples of the
hundreds of conditions that lead to migration and selection.
The city and the tropical country may indeed appeal mainly to
the love of gain, while the new country and the remote mine
may appeal still more to love of adventure, but that is a minor
difference. Thus the outstanding difference between new coun-
tries like the United States and old countries like those of Eu-
rope is that the new countries contain a much larger proportion
of the pioneer type of people, whose characteristics become
more pronounced the more remote and new the country.

We who live in new countries are apt to glorify the pioneer
type. Undoubtedly it possesses a high degree of vigor and
energy, a strong spirit of progress and reform, and much of the
" go-get-it " temperament which gives the United States the
reputation of being dollar-mad. By no means all of these qual-
ities are good, and it is doubtful whether most new countries re-

AMERICA PRESENT AND PAST 22$

ceive their full proportion of people who are Intellectual, ar-
tistic and highly cultured, or of those most competent to carry
on the affairs of government. In many cases, indeed, a " new "
country fails to get the most earnestly religious types unless
there happens to be persecution. Of course the circumstances
vary continually so that no generalization is universally true.
Nevertheless, while a new country does usually obtain set-
tlers endowed with unusual energy and initiative, its failure
to obtain enough of the more thoughtful, artistic, literary, and
cultured types is one of the chief reasons why it is so apt to
seem young or even childish. Its people are so active that they
often suppose energy to be a reasonable substitute for sound
judgment, or wealth for culture. When looked at in this way
the mere fact of migration and selection seems to account for a
good deal of the difference between Europe and America, be-
tween the East and West in America, and between states like
Florida and its neighbors.

These facts seem to explain so much that one is tempted to
inquire what remains for the other factors. So far as climate
is concerned, part of the answer, for the United States at least,
is found in the difference between the areas of highly stimulat-
ing and healthful climate in Europe compared with North
America. The European area is excellent partly because the
temperature and humidity stand close to the optimum for
physical activity during several of the summer months. Only
rarely is the weather hot enough, cold enough, or dry enough to
be really harmful. The other main element in the excellence
of the weather of the North Sea regions of Europe is the con-
stant succession of storms, usually mild in character, but never-
theless bringing frequent stimulating changes. In the north-
eastern United States the factors are a little different. Here as
in the North Sea regions, there is a highly stimulating contrast
of seasons, but with us the summers are likely to be too warm

THE HUMAN HABITAT

and the winters too cold, while very dry spells may occur at all
seasons, thus doing considerable harm. This happens largely
because our main area of the best kind of climate lies on the
eastern side of the continent, and the prevailing winds blow
from the west, thus bringing the extremes which are character-
istic of continental interiors and which are one of their great
disadvantages. These disadvantages, as compared with Eu-
rope, are balanced more or less fully by the fact that our storms
are more frequent and bring more pronounced changes of
weather than do those of western Europe. That region has
nothing to compare with our rarest days when a storm has
just passed and a marvelous wind from the northwest brings the
most crystal-clear of skies and combines with a temperature of
sixty or seventy degrees to stimulate every nerve.

As to which of these two types of climate is the better, it
is hard to say. I am inclined to give the palm to Europe, for
the European climate favors a more steady and less nervous
type of activity. There the mind and body of the person whose
health is good are never swayed far above or below a reasonable
level of activity, so far at least as the weather is concerned. It
is therefore possible to work cheerfully, purposively and effec-
tively day after day and month after month without exhaus-
tion. With us the fluctuations are much greater both from
season to season and day to day. We are pulled down by our
winters, and often by our summers; our activity may be
checked for a few days at almost any season by cold spells,
warm spells, or extreme storms. To make up for this our best
seasons, and our best days at almost any season, possess a
stimulating power almost unknown elsewhere. Thus although
our activity is often checked, it is also often spurred to the
utmost. When such a stimulus is applied to people who have
been selected because of their relatively alert and active tem-
peraments, extreme or even undue activity and nervous energy

AMERICA PRESENT AND PAST

227

are almost inevitable, and action is in danger of outrunning
judgment. We are likely to resemble the Filipino who de-
scribed himself as having too much engine for his steering gear.
That then is the handicap which we must face as a partial off-
set to our undoubted ability to put things over.

Now for the differences between one part of the country and
another. Figures 6 and 7, which are like the corresponding

From " Business Geography." Courtesy of John Wiley and Sons.
FIG. 6. DISTRIBUTION OF CLIMATIC ENERGY IN THE UNITED STATES.

maps of Europe and the world, show the close agreement be-
tween climatic energy and the degree of progress as estimated
by a group of experts. Figure 8 allows us to test the opinion of
these experts. It is a map of progress based on exact statistics
selected so as to reflect the actual economic, social, educational
and personal characteristics of the people as accurately as pos-
sible. Transportation facilities and income per capita have
been selected to illustrate the purely economic conditions. In
order to give each state a rank in transportation we find how
many miles of railway there are for each square mile of ter-

228

THE HUMAN HABITAT

From " Business Geography." Courtesy of John Wiley and Sons.
FIG. 7. DISTRIBUTION OF PROGRESS IN THE UNITED STATES PER EXPERT OPINION.

From " An Introduction to Sociology." Courtesy of D. C. Heath and Co.
FIG. S. DISTRIBUTION OF PROGRESS IN THE UNITED STATES PER CENSUS STATISTICS.

AMERICA PRESENT AND PAST 2 29

ritory and each inhabitant, how much Is spent per mile in main-
taining the public roads, how many trolley cars per thousand
people, and how many people for every automobile. When all
these facts are put together by the proper mathematical meth-
ods, we can rank the states according to the ease with which
one can travel within them, and can make a composite map il-
lustrating transportation facilities. Southern New England
and the states from Ohio to Iowa stand in the van. New York
and Pennsylvania rank almost as well, but fall a trifle behind
because of difficulties imposed by the Appalachian mountain
system. The most backward states, on the other hand, are Ala-
bama, Mississippi and Arkansas, and still more the whole tier
of Rocky Mountain States with New Mexico at the bottom and
Montana and Nevada next. The Pacific Coast stands high.
The map as a whole looks surprisingly like a map of climatic
energy, except that the Appalachian mountains and especially
the Rockies introduce obstacles which even our system of trans-
portation has not yet overcome.

For information as to income we rely on the estimates of the
National Bureau of Economic Research. In 1919, 1920, and
192 1 the average income per person in the United States ranged
from $2 63 in Mississippi to $943 in New York state and $909
in California. Except for Nevada, Wyoming and Colorado,
which are high, and North Dakota which is low, the states rank
very closely as in the maps of climatic energy (Figure 6) and
progress according to the experts (Figure 7). The incomes in
the South are depressed by the presence of the Negroes who are
not separated in our statistics, but even without them the gen-
eral aspect of the map would not be changed.

Let us look next at the distribution of social conditions as
shown by the percentage of the people engaged in professional
work and manufacturing. We have assumed that high per-
centages indicate progress. The range in the percentage en-

230 THE HUMAN HABITAT

gaged in professions is great, from 7.7 in California to only 2.7
in Mississippi and South Carolina. Here again, the census data
do not separate the colored people, and this tends to depress
the southeastern states, but the presence of great numbers of
foreign-born does the same in the northeast. Hence New York,
which stands highest among the eastern states, is rivalled or
surpassed by ten states lying west of the Mississippi, namely
Iowa, Nebraska, the Dakotas, Colorado, Utah, Nevada, and
the three states on the Pacific Coast. Manufacturing is quite
different, for the regions from southern New England to
Illinois are easily supreme. A map of manufacturing looks
much like the maps of climatic energy and progress except that
the Pacific Coast is not yet so much of a manufacturing region
as one might expect from its other conditions. Mississippi and
North Dakota stand at the bottom in manufacturing.

Although these economic and social conditions are an impor-
tant element of progress, the education of the individual mem-
bers of the population is still more important. We can test this
by means of illiteracy and educational facilities. When colored
and foreign-born persons are omitted, illiteracy is least preva-
lent in southern New England and in a triangle with its apex in
Minnesota and its base along the whole Pacific Coast. The
worst conditions are in the southeast, in practically the same
place where Negroes are abundant even though the Negroes
have been omitted. New Mexico, however, is still worse, pre-
sumably because of its large number of Mexicans who were
born there and are counted as native whites.

Illiteracy is only a moderately good indication of progress
because in newly settled regions such as our western triangle of
low illiteracy, the education of the people depends on the places
whence they came, not those where they now live. We want to
know how well those same people maintain their educational
facilities. In order to make this as accurate as possible let us

AMERICA PRESENT AND PAST 231

combine five different conditions. We will begin with the per-
centage of native white children seven to fourteen years of age
who are actually enrolled in the schools. This is highest in the
northwest where Utah and Idaho stand in the lead, and lowest
in the southeast where Maryland and Georgia rank a little
better than Louisiana. The frequency with which we find a
contrast between the northwest and the southeast is interesting.
Another good criterion of education is the young people eight-
een years of age who have graduated from a high school.
Maine, New Hampshire, Oregon and the neighboring states
rank five or six times as well as Georgia, South Carolina and
their neighbors. This great contrast occurs even though we
have given the South the advantage of omitting the Negro pop-
ulation and assuming that all the High School graduates are
whites. Another characteristic of the better school systems is
that they are open for a large part of the year and the pupils
are in regular attendance. The number of days when the aver-
age child is actually present ranges all the way from about a
hundred and fifty per year in Massachusetts and New Jersey to
only half as many in South Carolina and Mississippi.

How about the salaries of teachers? Contrary to general be-
lief, the salaries are about the same in the northeast as in the
far west, the highest averages for all the public school teachers
in individual states being nearly thirteen hundred dollars in
New Jersey and Massachusetts compared with fourteen hun-
dred in Oregon and thirteen hundred in Washington. In the
southeast the level is very low, with a minimum of less than
three hundred in Mississippi and a little over four hundred in
Georgia, but this includes colored teachers as well as white.
Nevertheless the scale for the white teachers is lower in the
South than anywhere else. Finally, one of the best indications
of the effectiveness of a school system is the extent to which
the boys as well as the girls keep on into the higher grades. Our

232 THE HUMAN HABITAT

social system has departed so far from the ancient method
where men alone were educated that now our girls often get
more education than our boys. Maryland and Utah keep their
boys the longest, while Wyoming, Montana and the Dakotas
are the places where the boys are most likely to be out-dis-
tanced by the girls. When all these conditions are combined
it appears that education is most advanced in the states from
southern New England to Illinois, on the Pacific Coast, and in
Utah. This last state illustrates the way in which a social in-
stitution may alter the results which one would expect on the
basis of environment. The Mormons insist that their children
shall be educated. Otherwise the map of education is almost
identical with those of climatic energy and progress.

The systematic way in which most of our maps conform to
the climatic map, or else to modifications of that map which
are easily explained by migration and selection is becoming
monotonous. But we must face it again when we attempt to
estimate the personal qualities of our people. One intimately
personal quality is health. Strange as it may seem this boast-
ful country of ours is so backward that a reliable map of health
based on official statistics is still impossible. Some states keep
no such records, and in others, such as Mississippi, the records
are doubtful. The records of insurance companies give a map
of health which might almost be mistaken for the map of cli-
matic energy except that farming states such as Iowa and
Nebraska make a better showing than manufacturing states
like New York and its neighbors.

As a final measure let us take something even more personal,
namely the accuracy with which people answer the census ques-
tions as to age. This seems like a queer criterion. How does
it measure people's ability, and how do we know whether they
answer correctly? As a matter of fact it is an extremely good
measure of general intelligence, and we can tell with great ac-

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AMERICA PRESENT AND PAST 233

curacy how much error there is In the answers of thousands
of people, although we cannot be sure with respect to any given
individual. The matter works in this way: If you are an
intelligent, careful person the census-taker has no terrors for
you. You give him the names and ages of all the people in
the house with accuracy. If he is also intelligent and careful
he makes sure that you understand everything and that he un-
derstands you. But suppose a careless census-taker is talking
to a shiftless, ignorant mother or grandmother who looks upon
him as a nuisance and perhaps even a menace. When she gives
the names of the children she says that Austin is twelve when
he is really thirteen, and forgets that Virginia's tenth birthday
will not come till next month. When the man of the house
comes home and she relates the day's experiences, she exclaims,
" Good land, I clean forgot the baby. Did you ever hear the
beat of that? " This is not mere imagination; it actually hap-
pens. Moreover, not a few census-takers think it too much
trouble to go half a mile up a side road to get the facts about
a house or two. They or their wives think they know all about
it, but they get the ages wrong and have never heard that a
new baby came four months ago.

If you want the proof of this look at the census tables and
see whether the number of children decreases systematically
with age. In any normal population those under one year of
age must be more numerous than those between one and two,
because from a tenth to a fifth of the babies usually die during
the first year. In the same way the two-year olds must be more
numerous than the three-year-olds, and so on. Again, children
aged four, six, eight, ten and especially twelve even ages
ought to be a little less numerous than those of the preceding
odd ages three, five, seven, nine, eleven and so on. Accord-
ing to the census neither of these conditions prevails in large
parts of the United States. Babies almost never appear to be

234 THE HUMAN HABITAT

quite as numerous as they really are; children of even ages,
especially twelve, almost invariably appear to be more numer-
ous than is warranted by the facts; the only odd age that gets
a surplus is twenty-one, mainly among the boys because they
want to vote while they are still twenty. In a high-grade popu-
lation consisting largely of recent native-born migrants from
the old states such errors are slight, as in Minnesota. In Mis-
sissippi, on the contrary, even the native whites of native
parentage report more children at the ages of ten and twelve
than at any other age. Ridiculous as it may be, the census
figures would seem to indicate not merely that none of the
infants ever die, but that the number of children born in 1910,
let us say, has increased greatly by 1920. Then it drops
ten per cent or so, and in 1922 again rises as high as in 1920.
Of course this* is the sheerest nonsense. It arises simply from
the fact that the people as a whole, and likewise the census-
takers, are so careless that perhaps a fifth of the children, even
those who are native whites of native parentage, are not re-
corded in the census, and the ages of those who are there are
often wrong.

Among foreign families and especially among Negroes these
tendencies are still stronger. Among the Negroes of South
Carolina the children twelve years of age are actually reported
as forty or fifty per cent more numerous than those eleven
years of age or than the babies under one year. Yet in Minne-
sota, among the native whites of native parentage, the twelve-
year-olds are reported as a trifle less numerous than the eleven-
year-olds, and tie infants under one year of age exceed them
by more than fifty per cent. Thus it appears that the census
data as to age are one of the most delicate tests of the average
intelligence of a population.

When we apply this test to the United States as a whole, but
limit it to native whites of native parentage, we find a strip of

AMERICA PRESENT AND PAST 235

high Intelligence and accuracy from southern New England to
Oregon, including all the northern tier of states except north-
ern New England. Maine falls off quite badly, perhaps because
many of her more intelligent people have migrated away, and
perhaps because the sparsity of her population causes the
census-takers to do a great deal of guessing. In the southwest,
California falls in the same class as New Hampshire and Ver-
mont, but the other states stand somewhat lower. Nevada falls
as low as Maine, perhaps because there too an unfavorable out-
ward migration has occurred. The southeast brings up the
rear, especially South Carolina, Louisiana and Mississippi, but
Florida, by reason of recent immigration, rises to the level of
New Hampshire and California.

When these eight methods of measuring progress are put to-
gether, as is explained in An Introduction to Sociology, the
result is Figure 8. That map seems to me the best measure
yet available of the degree of progress and intelligence in dif-
ferent parts of the United States. In spite of minor differences
it resembles the map of progress according to the experts so
closely that we feel assured of the general accuracy of the
latter. But our map of progress on the basis of statistics is
even more like the map of climatic energy. Thus by the most
accurate tests yet available our main conclusions as to the inti-
mate relations between climate, health, energy and progress
are verified. Migrations may upset this pattern, but the ex-
traordinary feature is that in a new country like the United
States, where people are still moving actively from place to
place, the general pattern of progress conforms almost per-
fectly to that of climate. This is partly because energetic
people more or less unconsciously seek energizing climates, but
it is also because with equal unconsciousness most people con-
form their degree of activity to the type of climate in which
they live.

236 THE HUMAN HABITAT

Although the direct effect of climate may determine the main
lines of the distribution of progress, we must not overlook other
factors such as the distribution of the Negroes, and the occur-
rence of upheavals like the Civil War. If there had never been
any Negroes in the United States it is almost certain that the
general aspect of Figure 8 would be essentially the same, but
the shading of the southeast might be one degree lighter. But
after all, the presence of the colored people and the occurrence
of the war are closely connected with climate. Black slaves
were originally brought to New England as well as the Caro-
linas, and nobody thought it wicked. In the North the slaves
did not thrive because the climate was too cold for them; in
the winter they spent most of their time shivering and trying to
keep warm. In summer they did not work hard enough to be
of much use in a region where the white man loved to work
and did it very vigorously. As house servants the slaves were
of some use, but not very good or cheap compared with the effi-
cient white servants who could easily be brought over from
England. In the South all this was different; the Negroes en-
joyed life, had better health, and worked better because it was
warm. The white man did not like to work so well as in the
North and could not work so hard. Moreover, it was much
cheaper to support a slave where the demands for clothing and
shelter were so much less than in the North. More important
still was the fact that in tobacco the South had found a highly
profitable crop with a market much larger than the early col-
onists could fill. Negroes were just the people for such a crop,
and so it paid to keep them. Then in later days, after the in-
vention of the cotton gin, cotton supplied another highly
profitable crop just fit for Negro labor.

To make a long story short, the climatic conditions gradually
exerted their usual power of selection; they drew the Negroes
to the South, but not to the North. They also selected a moral

AMERICA PRESENT AND PAST 237

Idea for preservation in the North. In Europe the problem of
whether slavery was right or wrong became acute before It did
in America; the people opposed to slavery won because those
to whom it was an economic advantage were few and not highly
influential. In America the ideal of liberty and equality for
all men throve in the North where black men were of little use
as slaves, but was forcibly rejected by the South. That is the
way it often happens. An idea may originate anywhere, but
in some environments it is nipped in the bud; in others it grows
and bears fruit, even if that fruit is a devastating civil war.
Thus while the contrasted climates of the North and South are
not the direct causes of slavery and the Civil War, they are the
reason why two opposing ideals were located within one coun-
try so that they had the opportunity to come into conflict.

One other phase of progress in America still remains to be
considered. Is not a large part of what we have said about
climate and civilization contradicted by the distribution of
human progress among the Indians before the days of Colum-
bus? Not at all. On the contrary, the adjustment between
man and his environment was just as close then as at any other
time and perhaps closer. In those old days there were three
centers of progress among the Indian population of America.
In one, the central feature was the corn type of agriculture.
In another it was fishing and commerce, and in a third, war
and government. One had its center in Guatemala and Mexico
where the Mayas were its highest exponents; the second had
its center among the Haidas in the Queen Charlotte Islands off
the coast of British Columbia north of Vancouver Island; and
the third among the Iroquois or Six Nations of the state of New
York.

The relation between the cultivation of grains and human
progress has been so fully explained that it is easy to see why
the first and only really great civilization of America arose

238 THE HUMAN HABITAT

where corn was cultivated. The cultivation of corn requires
certain very distinctly limited climatic conditions. The corn
seed will sprout properly only in a fairly high temperature and
with a fair amount of water. The growing plants must have
abundant moisture for two or three months, especially when
the ears are making their first growth. After that a relatively
dry season is needed, for otherwise a large part of the crop
may be ruined.

We are so familiar with corn as the greatest crop of Iowa,
Illinois and the other richest agricultural portions of the United
States that we fail to realize that among the Indians it was al-
most impossible to grow corn there. Bear in mind that in
North America the Indians had no domestic animals that could
plow the land or even carry burdens to any appreciable extent.
In addition to this they had no iron implements and practically
none of copper. Thus no matter how high their cultivation
might rise in other respects, it could not spread into grasslands
and only very imperfectly into forests. Just why the greatest
of all native American civilizations grew up in the lowlands of
Guatemala rather than in the highlands is not yet certain.
Selective migrations may have had something to do with the
matter. It is also possible that the storm belt at that time was
shifted far enough south so that the climate of that region was
fairly stimulating as well as drier than now. That, however, is
by no means certain and we must leave the matter unsettled.
This much, however, is clear. When the white man came to
America, something had caused the Maya civilization to fall
almost completely into decay. It was scarcely more than a
memory, and the Mayas themselves did not know who built
the great ruins among which they lived.

The highest American civilizations at that time were located
in Peru among the Incas and in Mexico among the Aztecs. In
both cases the basis of life was corn grown by means of rain

AMERICA PRESENT AND PAST 239

during a relatively short wet season. This kind of culture
spread as far as the climate permitted, reaching its northerly
limit just north of the boundary of New Mexico in Colorado.
Northward, eastward or westward from there corn culture on
any large scale is impossible for people who have neither draft
animals nor iron tools. Even in Texas the rains increase so
that grassland becomes more and more common, and finally
forests prevail. Nevertheless the grasses there are sufficiently
bunchy rather than turfy so that corn culture did spread inter-
mittently as far east as Georgia. Northward the summer rains
which corn loves give place to winter rains which are of little
use to it. Westward the same is true. Where the Colorado
River provides natural irrigation, the Mojave Indians formed
the last outpost of the corn type of civilization on the west and
were immensely superior to their immediate neighbors whom
we shall describe in a moment. The similar northern outposts
in southern Colorado, the northern parts of Arizona, and New
Mexico eked out a precarious existence by means of small
streams used for irrigation. Some dwelt in such desert regions
that when the time for corn-planting came they placed each
seed of corn in a ball of mud, and buried the saturated ball in
the sand of a dry flood plain one of those rivers that flow
with the sandy side up, as they say out there. The corn was
able to sprout and grow for some time before it again needed
to be watered.

Beyond the limits of the corn area the culture of the Indians
fell to an extremely low level, especially in California and
Utah. In our day California seems to have a very good cli-
mate the people there claim that it is the best in the world.
But for primitive Indians the California environment is about
as bad as that of the Kalahari Desert. The Calif ornians of to-
day, so far as they depend upon local products, owe their pros-
perity mainly to cattle, wheat, barley, oranges, grapes, vegeta-

24O THE HUMAN HABITAT

bles, gold and petroleum. Every one of the main food products
is of European or Asiatic origin, and was not available to the
Indians before the days of Columbus. Moreover, all except
wheat and cattle depend upon systems of irrigation much more
elaborate than was possible for the primitive Indians. The
steepness of the California mountains, the early ending of the
rainy season, and the general conditions of topography cause
the streams to provide almost no natural irrigation fit for corn.
Consequently the few Indians who lived in California were
doomed to a mode of life almost identical with that of the
Bushmen in the Kalahari Desert.

In Utah, Nevada and the other dry regions where winter
rains prevail, the condition of civilization was equally low for
similar reasons. Farther east in the great plains, agriculture
was practically impossible. Not only did the absence of beasts
of burden for plowing and of iron tools wherewith to cultivate
the land make it impossible to subdue the grasslands, but the
presence of great herds of buffalo added another serious diffi-
culty. Not till the buffalo were exterminated could even the
white man profitably cultivate most parts of the great plains.
On the other hand, the buffaloes provided a means of livelihood
more reliable and abundant than that of the hunters elsewhere,
and the plains Indians were correspondingly advanced in
culture.

The second center of primitive Indian culture lay, as we have
said, in the Queen Charlotte Islands, north of Vancouver Is-
land off the coast of British Columbia. There the Haidas,
although unable to practice agriculture, built relatively large
and permanent villages; engaged actively in commerce, kept
slaves, and had a rather highly organized system of government
and of social intercourse. How was this possible? Simply be-
cause the sea provided two of the great necessities of civiliza-
tion. One was a permanent supply of food within easy reach

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AMERICA PRESENT AND PAST 241

and abundant enough so that a considerable number of people
could live close together without being obliged to wander about.
The other was easy transportation. The Haidas ^were prima-
rily fishermen. Of course the fish wander around, but never-
theless among the Queen Charlotte Islands they are found in
abundance much of the time and every year are so abundant at
some seasons that a supply can be laid by for the rest of the
year. The cool but not unpleasant summers were a great help,
while the mild winters made it possible to engage in fishing of
some sort practically all the time. The fact that the Queen
Charlotte Islands form an archipelago and that there are many
deep bays and narrow inlets along the coast made navigation
easy, as did the presence of forests of splendid pines from which
boats could be hollowed. Thus among the Haidas, ships took
the place of horses and cattle, just as fish took the place of
corn, rice or wheat. In addition to all this the climate is very
healthful, so that this small area provided the primary requi-
sites of civilization.

Turn now to the northeastern part of the United States where
manufacturing is now most abundant and the population most
dense. There where the climate is most stimulating ought we
not to expect the highest development of Indian civilization?
Certainly no such thing occurred there, but the reason is clear
enough in the light of the previous discussions of this book.
Without iron, beasts of burden or any such special advantages
as those enjoyed by the Haidas, the Indians could not to any
large degree practice any mode of life except hunting. They
did indeed cultivate a little corn in openings in the forest, but
to clear large patches and maintain them as permanent fields
was out of the question. The speedy growth of grass and the
extreme difficulty of spading up enough weedy, grassy land
with their crude implements made it impossible.

Nevertheless, and here is the significant fact, so far as

242 THE HUMAN HABITAT

energy, activity and the development of ideas are concerned,
the Indians of the north rank extremely high. The Iroquois or
Six Nations take the lead. They lived in what is now the state
of New York. Only recently has the world realized how far
these people had gone in the way of developing governmental
institutions. A sort of constitution framed by them and
preserved by word of mouth, has recently been published. It
is crude and cruel, but it shows the prevalence of high ideals.
The constitution outlines an institution suggesting the League
of Nations. Its purpose was to create peace and justice among
a group of neighboring and often hostile tribes. It provided
that if any tribe had a grievance against another there should
be meetings for consultation and adjustment. It further pro-
vided that if any tribe failed to keep the peace, it should be
chastised until it was ready to join with the rest in the great
aim of creating a stable political system.

In addition to this germ of modern Ideas as to peace and
arbitration, the Iroquois had what may almost be regarded as
the germ of woman's rights. At any rate, women were re-
spected among them as among very few other primitive people.
The main councils were Indeed composed of men, but the
older women had the privilege of nominating the chiefs.

The more these people are studied the more probable it
seems that if they had had an adequate material basis for civ-
ilization, they would have progressed rapidly. If beasts of
burden and iron tools had enabled them to join their political
sagacity with the material prosperity afforded by the corn cul-
ture of the Pueblos and with the commercial skill of the Haidas,
as might readily have happened, who knows but that Columbus
and his followers might have found a highly civilized and popu-
lous nation occupying the region where now the United States
makes greatest progress. Taken as a whole does it not seem
that when allowance is made for their stage of culture, the ad-

AMERICA PRESENT AND PAST '243

justment of the Indians to their climate and to the resources of
their land was as close as that of the people in other parts of

the world? In the past as in the present, the main colors in the

picture of human progress and activity in America seem to have
been painted by the geographic environment.

CHAPTER XVI

THE RELATION OF THE SOIL TO ARISTOCRACY AND DEMOCRACY

HAVING surveyed the general principles of human geography,
and having looked at certain main portions of the earth in the
light of those principles, we may well complete our study by a
more detailed examination of certain phenomena in the United
States. Let us first consider an example where the soil plays
a dominant part. Although the effect of the soil upon the dis-
tribution of human progress vies with that of climate and relief,
it is much less noticeable. This is partly because the average
person is unable to detect the quality of the soil, whereas a
child can describe the weather and the hills. Moreover, the
effects of the soil are easily and speedily altered by drainage,
irrigation, fertilization, plowing, rotation of crops and various
other methods, whereas it is much more difficult to change the
climate and the relief.

Alabama offers an excellent example of the way in which the
soil may enter into the warp and woof of human relationships.
From the standpoint of human geography, three main areas
may be distinguished. The northern half of the state has poor
soil, and is relatively rugged, two conditions which often go to-
gether. The central part of this northern half is the south-
western tip of the Appalachian Mountains which enter the
state at the northeast corner, and are flanked on the south-
east by the comparatively infertile plateau of old contorted
rocks known as the Piedmont, and on the northwest by the
roughly dissected continuation of the Allegheny plateau of
Pennsylvania, Kentucky and Tennessee, consisting of moder-
ately old rocks which still lie nearly horizontal. South of these

244

RELATION OF THE SOIL 245

three kinds of country, and sweeping around them parallel to
the Gulf of Mexico, lies a series of belts of younger rocks form-
ing the Atlantic Coastal Plain. The older belts, which were the
first to be exposed as the sea retired, lie at greater altitudes and
farther inland than the younger, and have naturally been more
fully dissected by streams. In Alabama the differences be-
tween one belt and another are peculiarly clear. The belts
which rim the southern and western margin of the Piedmont,
the Appalachians, and the Plateau consist of sandy rocks con-
taining little lime. They form a somewhat hilly country, not
so rough as the plateaus, but with relatively poor soil, good
enough for pines, but not especially favorable to broad-leaved
trees or crops. This completes the northern area of relatively
poor country which becomes excellent only in the far north-
west where the Tennessee River has worn out a broad valley
and deposited rich alluvium.

The second area centers in the Black Belt, or central prairie
region, which extends across the state a little south of the cen-
ter in the neighborhood of Montgomery and Selma. The Black
Belt consists of a sort of rotten limestone known as Selma chalk.
The rock is so soft that it has been worn down to a gently un-
dulating topography which permits practically all parts to be
cultivated. The soil, a dark gray or almost black clay with
some sand, is extremely fertile, and is especially good for cot-
ton. The dark color of this " black waxy " soil, as it is called,
has given the region the name of the " Black Belt." There are
indeed plenty of black people, but they are not responsible for
the name. With the Black Belt should be put what is known
as the Post Oak and Blue Marl Regions, as Dr. R. M. Harper
has named them, where the soil is also excellent. The three
together form a peculiarly fertile strip thirty or forty miles
wide extending roughly from southeast to northwest across the
state a little south of the center.

246 THE HUMAN HABITAT

Farther south in a transitional area of reddish sandy loam,
known as the Red Hills, the soil is moderately rich but the hills
sometimes rise two hundred feet. Then come the infertile
Lime Hills and Lime Sinks, and the poor sandy soil of the
Southern Pine Belt, making the third of the main areas from
the human standpoint. Thus in a broad way Alabama has
three main parts; first, an area of poor soils and unfavorable
topography in all the northern half aside from the Tennessee
Valley; second, the rich, black, waxy soil of the Black Belt,
together with the good soil of its immediate borders; and third,
a southern belt of poor soils.

In practically every phase of human activity the results of
this situation are so apparent that the student of the geography
of Alabama is likely to forget the dominant tints which deter-
mine the main outlines of the great picture of human geog-
raphy, and to be lost in enthusiasm over the beautiful contrasts
and shadings afforded by the soil and relief in a single small
part of the canvas.

Let us consider the nature of some of these contrasts, and
then explain them. One of the most noteworthy features of the
Black Belt is the small proportion of white inhabitants, no-
where much over thirty per cent. The two areas where the
soil is poor, on the other hand, have a very large percentage of
white inhabitants, rising to over ninety in the rugged and infer-
tile northern counties, and to seventy or eighty in the infertile
southern counties. Of course the reverse is true of the Ne-
groes; in some counties of the Black Belt they comprise almost
ninety per cent of the population, whereas in some of the north-
ern counties they number less than one per cent. The white
people seem almost to shun the good land, whereas the colored
people seek it. This is true not only of Alabama but all over
the South, as has been well shown by Dr. Harper. Moreover,
the same principle applies in other parts of the world, such as

RELATION OF THE SOIL 247

China, England, and Italy. Wherever the soil is highly fertile,
the higher elements of the population are apt to form only a
small minority, while the lower elements form a huge majority.

Among the farmers this is even more notably the case than
among the rest of the population. In the Black Belt there is
less than pne white farmer per square mile; on the infertile
sands of the south there are five or even seven on an average,
and in the lands of the north where ruggedness is added to in-
fertility, the number runs still higher, being five to nine in a
large group of counties. The number of colored farmers varies
in the inverse way, being four to seven per square mile in the
counties of the Black Belt where the soil is richest, and drop-
ping to little more than one in the sands of the south. Curious
as it may seem, the tendency of the white farmers to keep away
from the good soil and settle on the poor soil is even greater
than that of the white people engaged in other occupations.
The Negro farmer, on the contrary, seems to be drawn toward
the good soil almost as by a magnet, and avoids the poorer, less
fertile soils.

The products of the soil, as well as the people who till it,
vary greatly from the Black Belt to the other parts of the
country. Since the soil of the Black Belt is admirable for cot-
ton, it is not surprising that about 1910, when the cotton-raising
industry of Alabama was most prosperous, half or two-thirds
pf all the cultivated land was devoted to this crop. As one
goes away from the fertile soil of the Black Belt, the tendency
to utilize the land for cotton declines rapidly. In a large part
of northern Alabama, and likewise on the sandy soil of the
south, the area in cotton is less than ten per cent of the total
area cultivated by the white people. The Negroes, however,
everywhere have had the habit of raising an unduly large pro-
portion of cotton. In 1910, in practically every county in the
state, more than half of the land cultivated by Negroes was

248 THE HUMAN HABITAT

given to cotton. In the Black Belt many of the colored farmers
actually used to put more than four-fifths of their land into
cotton, planting practically nothing else except a patch of corn
too small to supply the needs of even their own families.

This represents the extreme of what is known as one-crop
farming. It needs no argument to show how dangerous it is.
If many of the people depend on a single crop, any variation in
the size and price of that crop is bound to be important. If the
crop is unstable, like cotton, the situation is far worse. Cotton
is unstable partly because the boll weevil lays its eggs in the
green cotton balls and ruins them. It is also unstable because
the United States still raises more than half of the world's total
cotton crop and formerly raised an even larger percentage.
Thus the price depends largely upon the American crop, for a
poor crop here is not likely to be fully balanced by a good crop
elsewhere. Moreover, cotton is an export crop, and therefore
is much more subject to interruptions by such events as the
Civil War or the World War than is a crop like corn which is
grown mainly for home consumption. All these things combine
to cause the one-crop system of farming to be very precarious
in Alabama, especially among the colored people, and most of
all among the colored people of the Black Belt.

Since the soil of the Black Belt is so well adapted to cotton,
one would naturally expect the yield per acre to be large, but
this is by no means the case. On a map showing the yield of
cotton per acre on the farms of white men, the Black Belt
forms a continuous strip where the average yield in 1909 was
less than a third of a bale per acre, and in some counties less
than a fourth. Yields of more than four-tenths of a bale per
acre as the average for a whole county were obtained only in
countries where the soil is relatively poor. Among the Negroes
a similar but even more extreme condition prevails. In the
Black Belt the average yield on the colored farms is systematic

RELATION OF THE SOIL 249

cally less than on the white man's farms, but it shows the
same tendency to be low where the soil Is good. In 1909,
before the boil weevil had begun to do serious damage, it aver-
aged less than a fourth of a bale in the Black Belt, and in some
counties less than a fifth. Away from the Black Belt, the yield
increases quite regularly except in the Tennessee Valley where
it is also low. One of the most curious features of the whole
situation is that the more the soil and the social conditions de-
part from the type found in the Black Belt, the greater the
yield and the more nearly the colored farms rival the white
farms. Where the soil is poor, Negroes and whites both get
about the same return and both get much more than in the fer-
tile Black Belt.

The good yield in the poorer regions is of course due partly
to the fact that only the best land is there put into cotton. But
that does not explain the very low average yield of the best
land, nor the tendency for the Negroes to rival the whites on
the poor land. Nor does it explain the equally curious fact
that where the soil is most fertile the value of the farm land per
acre is less than in almost any other part of the state. Of course
the value of the land depends directly upon its productivity.
People cannot afford high prices for land that brings a small
return. But why is the return so small in the Black Belt? It
was not so a century ago, for then the land there was highly
valued, while land in the sandy regions and the hills could be
had almost for the taking. It begins to look as though good
soil were a distinct disadvantage.

Looking at the matter more closely we discover that the
disadvantages of the good soil fall mainly on the Negro, not
the white man. The size of farms illustrates this. On the good
soil of the Black Belt the white farms are large, averaging
nearly two hundred acres. The colored farms, on the contrary,
are small, averaging less than a fourth as large as those of the

250 THE HUMAN HABITAT

white men. But where the soil and relief are poor, the farms
of the two groups do not differ greatly in size, the average for
the whites being seventy-five to eighty acres and for the col-
ored people fifty-five. This illustrates two important geo-
graphic principles. One of these is that as a rule, the better the
land, the larger the holdings of the rich and the smaller the
holdings of the poor. The second is that, under adverse con-
ditions, social contrasts of all kinds are reduced to a mini-
mum, whereas under favorable conditions they are accentu-
ated,

This last principle is illustrated by the ownership of homes
and farms. In the Black Belt practically all of the white farm-
ers own their farms; on the poorer soils this is not so fully the
case. The great contrast, however, occurs among the Negroes.
Among them the degree of tenancy in the Black Belt is as-
tounding. Scarcely five per cent own their homes free of mort-
gage, and less than half own their farms even under heavy
mortgages. Around Birmingham, on the contrary, more than
half of the colored people own their farms without mortgages,
while in Mobile county the percentage actually rises above
eighty. Here again as one goes away from the Black Belt, the
condition of the colored people approximates toward that of
the whites.

Information as to the rates of interest paid by the colored
people as compared with the whites are not available, but they
are high. When both races are taken together, a clear contrast
is apparent between good soil and poor. All rates of interest
are higher in the South than in the North, so that the majority
of farm mortgages in Alabama bear seven per cent or more.
In the Black Belt, however, and there only, save for three coun-
ties near Mobile, the rate of interest in 1920 averaged less than
six per cent. Elsewhere it rises higher, and in the less favored
counties actually reaches eight per cent. If the value of land

RELATION OF THE SOIL 251

per acre in the Black Belt were higher than elsewhere, this
would not be surprising. The most valuable land would be ex-
pected to carry the lowest rate of interest. But the land in the
Black Belt, as we have seen, is less valuable than the other farm
land. The point seems to be that even though it yields
less per acre, the land in the Black Belt is more profitable and
hence more easily salable than the land elsewhere. It is profita-
ble because crops can be raised upon it with the minimum
degree of labor and intelligence.

Before we explain these seeming inconsistencies, let us look
at the contrast between the whites and the colored people in
still another way. Houses and barns furnished one of the best
measures of prosperity. In this respect, as in almost every
other, the Black Belt stands out conspicuously. According to
the Census, the average value of the farm buildings of the
white men in the Black Belt nowhere fell below $674 in 1910,
while in one county it rose above $1,000. These values do in-
deed sound very small, but compared with those for other parts
of the South at that time, they are large. As one goes away
from the Black Belt, the values decline almost to $300 in the
sand hills and lime sink country of the south, and to $250 or
less in the poor counties of the north. The magnitude of this
difference becomes apparent when one considers that the aver-
age white farmer's house and barn are worth three or four
times as much in the Black Belt as in almost any other part
of the state.

For the colored people the reverse is true. Not only does
the value of the buildings fall to the almost incredibly low
limits of $94 in the poorest counties and $297 in the best, near
Birmingham, but where the white people's farm buildings are
most valuable, those of the colored people are poorest. In no
less than five counties of the Black Belt and there alone
the value of the buildings on colored farms falls below a him-

252 THE HUMAN HABITAT

dred dollars. In the Black Belt the white man's farm buildings
average five to eight times as valuable as those of the colored
people around him; in most of the state the corresponding fig-
ure is only two or three, while in the sandy southern counties
the figure falls below two. Is it not extraordinary that the fer-
tility of the soil should lead to such high prosperity among the
white people and such poverty among the colored, whereas the
poor soils bring equality?

This tendency toward a high-grade aristocracy and a low-
grade peasantry on the good soil is especially clear in respect
to illiteracy. Ordinarily illiteracy is higher in rural regions than
in cities, but in Alabama the rural Black Belt shows the lowest
illiteracy among the native whites, even less than in the cities
of Birmingham and Mobile. That gives a measure of the de-
gree to which the white people of the Black Belt surpass the
other inhabitants of Alabama. In some of the rugged, infertile
counties of the north and the sandy counties of the south
the white illiteracy is from six to eleven times as great as in the
Black Belt. Among the colored people, on the contrary, the
illiteracy in the Black Belt in 1920 was far greater than in any
other part of the state and from twenty to thirty times as great
as among the white people. In many counties more than forty
per cent of the colored adults cannot read or write. Nowhere
else in Alabama are conditions so bad. Moreover, the very
regions where infertile soil and unfavorable relief are com-
monly given as excuses for illiteracy among the white people,
are the parts where the colored people are best educated. In edu-
cation, as in the value of buildings, the regions where the soil
is best are characterized by a scanty white aristocracy which
stands very high and by dense masses of colored people whose
level is extremely low. Where the soil is poor and the condi-
tions of life are hard, not only are the colored people relatively
few compared with the whites, but the whites are depressingly

RELATION OF THE SOIL 253

ignorant, being almost rivalled in some counties by the colored
people, who there do better than anywhere else.

The difference between the Black Belt and the poorer parts
of Alabama is reflected in politics as clearly as in economic con-
ditions and education. For example, in 1848 the Democratic
Party had begun the process whereby it finally gained control
of the South and ultimately carried it out of the Union. That
sweep of a political idea represents a stroke of the artist's
brush dipped in the colors of climate. In the ultimate analy-
sis, as we have seen elsewhere, slavery persisted in the South
and not in the North for economic reasons. As long as the
institution of slavery remained unassailed, the people of the
southern states divided themselves between the two great polit-
ical parties in the normal fashion. The prosperous people,
unless they had some special interest, tended to be conservative
and to adhere to the Whig Party. The less prosperous people,
unless they also had some special interest, tended to be pro-
gressive and favored the Democratic Party with its promises of
a new order and of a millenium for the poor and oppressed.
Inevitably, then, the white people of the Black Belt were
predominantly Whigs.

The presidential election of 1848 occurred when the South
was already beginning to be strongly swept by the conflict over
slavery. Nevertheless the aristocratic Black Belt still cast
about ten votes for Taylor, the Whig candidate, for every six
or eight cast for Cass, the Democratic candidate. In northern
Alabama on the contrary, among the poor white people of the
mountains, many counties cast three votes for Cass compared
with one for his Whig opponent. Still more significant is the
fact that even in southern Alabama where the sandy soil pre-
vails, the vote for the Democratic candidate likewise exceeded
that for the Whig in at least four counties. The Black Belt
was the last stronghold of the conservative Whigs. Only when

254 THE HUMAN HABITAT

they saw that their economic situation was threatened, did they
swing over to the Democratic Party. The character of the soil
was the foundation of the train of causes which made that par-
ticular region politically conservative, whereas the poverty of
the soil elsewhere made the people more radical.

Let us try to bring more order out of the mass of facts pre-
sented in this chapter. Our main conclusion thus far is that,
In Alabama at least, the best soil has tended to concentrate on
itself a small, but rich, well educated, powerful and conserva-
tive white aristocracy who lord it over a highly numerous, poor,
ignorant and incompetent colored peasantry. The poorer soils,
on the other hand, have tended toward the concentration of a
people among whom there are no such extremes as on the rich
soil; the white and the black, the rich and the poor, the well
educated and the ignorant, the highest and the lowest tend to
differ far less than in the Black Belt. Indeed, the poorer the
soil and the rougher the relief the more fully the contrasts
disappear. The social conditions are closely analogous to those
which cause the people of deserts to be highly democratic. Just
as no one in the desert can have a very large tent or carry with
him a great amount of breakable, heavy furniture, so the peo-
ple on the poorer soils cannot accumulate the capital wherewith
to build fine houses, add lands to lands to form great estates,
and educate their children at the best schools wherever they
may be.

Although this sociologic contrast owes its origin in part to
the direct effect of wealth on the one hand and poverty on the
other, it may owe still more to the process of social selection
which we have so often seen exemplified. Let us trace the his-
toric process by which the Black Belt has become so different
economically and sociologically from the rest of Alabama
Most of the first settlers approached Alabama from the states
farther north. Some traveled along the Piedmont Plateau at

RELATION OF THE SOIL 255

the base of the mountains; some came down the great Appa-
lachian Valley just west of the Blue Ridge; a few came from
the coast. The settlers of a new country of course comprise
many different types. Some are earnest seekers for new
homes; others are adventurers who want to get away from the
restraints of older societies; some have failed at home and fare
forth with the hope of retrieving their fortunes; others have
succeeded but are so full of the spirit of adventure, the love of
novelty, or the desire to get ahead rapidly, that they cannot be
happy at home when new regions beckon them onward.

When people of various types like these leave their old
homes, the accuracy and extent of their knowledge of the new
land are highly diverse. Some have merely heard that Ala-
bama, for example, offers a good chance to the settler. They
load up their household goods and venture forth without any
definite plan. They tell themselves that they will keep an
open mind, look over the land as they go along, pick up in-
formation here and there, and settle in some place that strikes
their fancy. Others, of a more thoughtful type, investigate
the possibilities of the new region, read about it in books or
papers, or as was much more often the case in the history of
Alabama, get information by letter from persons who have
already gone to the new country. In that way they find out
where the best land is located, and where they had better set-
tle. Thus at the very start there arises a process of selection.
Some of the ignorant and happy-go-lucky people may settle
on some of the best land, but many settle elsewhere. Among
those who are especially thoughtful and competent, on the
other hand, a much larger proportion are likely to go directly
to the best region.

Many factors beside the quality of the soil doubtless enter
into the choice of homes. Our point is merely that when a new
country is settled, other things being equal, a higher percentage

256 THE HUMAN HABITAT

of the more intelligent people go to the good lands than to the
poor. That appears to have been what happened in Alabama.
It is certainly what happens today, provided there are no dis-
turbing factors such as the race question. If we divide the
counties of almost any large state on the basis of the value of
the land, the United States census shows that the foreign-born
farmers who settle on the good land are better educated
- more literate than those who settle on the poor. In other
words, among modern settlers those who have intelligence use
it, and those who have not, trust to luck. In early Alabama
there is plenty of evidence that the same was true.

In later generations this initial advantage of the Black Belt
was intensified, as is usually the case, but was also mingled
with disadvantages, as is also usually the case. Suppose that
two men, one intelligent and industrious, the other unintelli-
gent and shiftless, happen to settle near together on poor soil.
Which is more likely to move away? Many factors of course
enter into the matter, but the course of history and the census
data of the United States seem to show that the intelligent
man is the more likely to go. Not -only does Ms intelligence
prompt him to this, but his hard work enables him to acquire
sufficient capital to buy land where the soil is better. If two
similar men settle on good soil like that of the Black Belt, the
unintelligent and thriftless one is likely to fall into debt, and
perhaps mortgage his farm. In a year of misfortune his mort-
gage is likely to be foreclosed, and he may move away to a dis-
trict where the soil is poorer and land can still be had almost for
the taking.

Exactly this sort of thing happened in Alabama again and
again during the early days. In that way, as well as because
wealth provided opportunities, the Black Belt became the home
of an aristocracy which furnished a surprisingly large propor-
tion of leaders. When such an aristocracy becomes established,

RELATION OF THE SOIL 257

the children tend to intermarry with their own kind and the
original qualities are preserved. Thus even today the per-
centage of young people who go to college is peculiarly high
among the white people of the Black Belt, as is the number of
adults included in Who's Who.

Now for the disadvantages of a fertile soil. Why has the
Black Belt developed an ignorant Negro peasantry as well as
an intelligent white aristocracy? The causes which lead to
one have also led to the other. When intelligent men acquire
large holdings and are able to raise profitable crops, they nat-
urally need laborers. They do not wish to sell their land to
independent farmers; they want workers who are willing to
become tenants. In the early days of Alabama the natural
way to supply this need was to purchase slaves. The rich
planters wanted a certain number of the more delicate and
intelligent type, the so-called "Guinea Niggers/ 3 to act as
house servants, but the great need was for large numbers of
field hands, the brawny and rather stupid type often desig-
nated as " Congo Niggers." That gave a low stamp to the
colored population as a whole.

The sale of slaves from one state to another did not help
matters. In Kentucky, for example, the climate is so cool
that cotton cannot be raised in appreciable quantities. So
the Kentucky slave owners sold their surplus slaves farther
south, and some of them even raised slaves as they raised
horses. Before the Civil War the shipment of slaves from Ken-
tucky and other relatively northern slave regions to the cot-
ton country became a regular business. The first to be thus
sold were naturally those who had strong physiques but were
lacking in intelligence or were surly in disposition. Such
Negroes were good enough to pick cotton in the hot sun. The
Black Belt, by reason of its good soil, absorbed a high propor-
tion of them.

THE HUMAN HABITAT

Before the Civil War another factor may have slightly low-
ered the caliber of the Negroes in the Black Belt; since then
it has quite certainly done so to a high degree. In the days of
slavery a few slaves in every generation were set free. Some-
times the freedmen were given a bit of land and allowed to
settle near the old home. If they had ambition, however, they
were likely to wish to strike out for themselves. In that case
the natural thing was to go off to the sparsely settled regions
of infertile soil where plenty of land was available at an ex-
tremely low price. Thus the infertile parts of Alabama re-
ceived a few Negroes who were unusually intelligent and com-
petent, and of excellent disposition, as evinced by the fact that
their masters set them free.

Since the Civil War, a similar selective process has acted
more fully. As soon as the slaves were set free, most of them
rented the land on which they were already at work. Before
long, however, a considerable number of the more independent
and ambitious wanted to do things on a larger scale than before,
and to feel that they were really free, like the white men. In
the parts of Alabama where the soil and topography are less
favorable, large tracts of land were still almost unoccupied.
So the first great movement of the Negroes after the War in
Alabama was an outward migration of the more independent
and ambitious types from the congested Black Belt into the
regions of poorer soil. Their new neighbors were mainly white
men who had been less successful than the aristocracy of the
Black Belt. Thus on the poor soil the two races approached
one another, not only geographically, but socially and even in
their biological inheritance of intelligence and temperament.
But in the Black Belt the contrast became greater than ever,
because the abler, thriftier Negroes were more likely than the
stupid, thriftless ones, to move away.

A later series of events has still further lowered the quality

RELATION OF THE SOIL 259

of the Negroes in the Black Belt. This began with the demand
for colored people as servants in the North, and with the op-
portunities for education offered by northerners who estab-
lished schools in the South. Both factors tended to draw off
the more ambitious young people and to prevent them from
returning to the Black Belt. If a boy educated in a school
like Hampton or Tuskegee wants to buy a farm of his own
rather than become the tenant of some large white owner in the
Black Belt, he naturally settles in one of the counties where the
soil is poorer and the Negroes less numerous.

Then came the boll weevil, which reached the southwestern
corner of Alabama in 1907, and during the next eight years
spread completely over the state. That dealt a terrible blow to
the cotton industry. The more fully people depended upon
cotton, the more they suffered. The region of greatest suffering
was naturally the Black Belt, and the people who suffered
most were the colored people. On the heels of this disaster
the World War sent the price of cotton toppling downward so
fast that everyone was urged to " buy a bale " in order to save
the cotton states from ruin. Before the cotton farmers recov-
ered from this blow, the war industries in the North created a
tremendous demand for labor,, which could no longer be sup-
plied by immigrants from Europe. Finally, in 1926 a phenome-
nally abundant crop, the greatest in history, caused the price
of cotton to drop so low that all the profit on a whole year's
work was destroyed.

These conditions subjected the colored people of the cotton
belt to a tremendous outward push because their one great
crop failed them, and to a tremendous pull because of the high
wages offered not only in their own city of Birmingham, but
far north in Chicago and elsewhere. The inevitable result was
a tremendous abandonment of cotton raising and a migration
away from the Black Belt. In many counties the area devoted

2 60 THE HUMAN HABITAT

to cotton was only half as great in 1919 &$ fa *99> while the
population fell off twenty per cent. Nevertheless in the poor
soils of the north and south of Alabama both the area devoted
to cotton and the population actually increased. In the south-
ern tier of counties the increase in population ranged from
twelve to twenty-four per cent, and around Birmingham it
reached thirty-seven per cent. In this crisis, as in almost every
other, the Black Belt acted differently from the rest of the
state. Moreover, this last migration, like practically every
other, was selective. The most conservative and shiftless Ne-
groes were the ones most likely to stay at home; the more ener-
getic and ambitious moved out. Thus a long series of events
has tended more or less steadily to concentrate a very poor
type of Negro on the rich land of the Black Belt. Now we see
why it is that, although the soil of the Black Belt is unusually
good for cotton, the yield per acre is smaller than anywhere
else in the state. As the quality of the Negroes has declined,
not only has the soil been depleted by the constant cultivation
of a single crop without proper fertilization and rotation, but
the methods of cultivation have grown more lax, and the rav-
ages of the boll weevil have not been intelligently checked by
burning the cotton stalks and otherwise. The white man him-
self has been unwise in his methods, and the Negro still more
so. Even on the white farms the Negroes do all the work and
the owners cannot make them work intelligently. So the white
planters have yielded to the temptation to get the best possible
returns, regardless of what happens to the land or of how much
the boll weevil increases.

Here then is what has happened: the soil of the Black Belt
was originally very fertile. It attracted settlers of a high type.
Their success and the nature of their crops attracted people of
a poorer type. The inefficiency of the poor type, together with

RELATION- OF THE SOIL 261

the desire of the higher type for immediate gain, permitted
the soil to deteriorate. Other factors like the boll weevil, the
World War, the bumper crop of 1926, have taken a hand. The
geographic factors have remained almost unchanged, for even
the depletion of the soil is only temporary, but a human cycle
has taken place.

Such a cycle is typical of what is happening all over the
world. One sees it in England, for example, where the fertile
eastern counties have been surprisingly productive, both agri-
culturally and as a source of leaders. But today the peasantry
there has fallen to a low ebb and it is doubtful whether the up-
per classes are holding their own in the face of the attractive
power of the city. One sees an extremely old phase of the cycle
in China, where the best soil in the Great Plains is peopled by
a highly intelligent and competent aristocracy which appears
to be declining, and by a vast body of industrious but dull and
unprogressive peasants.

Even in a new state like Iowa the same thing is evident. In
the six almost purely rural counties with the least valuable
farm land, only thirty-eight per cent of the native white farm-
ers and fourteen per cent of the foreign-born are tenants. In
the six similar counties with the most expensive land, the corre-
sponding numbers are sixty and fifty, even though the first
settlers arrived only about 1860. Of course all parts of Iowa
rank high agriculturally, but even so, there is a great difference
between one part and another as to the rapidity with which a
tenant class is developing. Sometimes indeed, tenancy is a
step toward ownership, but as a rule it is a sign of the develop-
ment of a group of people who, through lack of ability or oppor-
tunity, are forced to remain at a relatively low social level in
comparison with that of the owners of the soil How far this
tendency will go in a state like Iowa, no one can say. The sig~

262 THE HUMAN HABITAT

nificant thing is that wherever good soil and poor lie near to-
gether, and other conditions are similar, the good soil tends
toward the development of class distinctions and an aristo-
cratic form of social organization, whereas the poor soil tends
toward uniformity and democracy.

CHAPTER XVII

AN EXAMPLE OF TRANSPORTATION

IN our study of the decrees whereby the earth allots certain
occupations, modes of life, degrees of health, and stages of prog-
ress to certain definite regions, we have passed from the bolder
to the more delicate tints of the terrestrial canvas. In this last
chapter let us confine ourselves to a small section of the earth's
surface where two contrasted tints stand side by side. They
illustrate the local contrasts which we encounter almost every
day, even though we often fail to think of them.

Albemarle and Buckingham counties in central Virginia af-
ford an impressive contrast. Albemarle is a beautiful, hilly
district in the Piedmont region at the eastern base of the Blue
Ridge. Riding over its finely paved main roads, one is charmed
by fertile fields of corn, wheat and hay, broad, well-kept apple
orchards, wooded hills, and picturesque pastures studded with
dark cedars or pretty scrub pines. In spring the pastures are
gorgeous with orange-yellow masses of Scotch broom, intro-
duced by Thomas Jefferson to check the growth of gullies in
his fields; the meadows are yellow with European buttercups,
or white with daisies which likewise came to Virginia from Eu-
rope, but by way of the hay which the northern soldiers brought
with them for their horses during the Civil War.

Even more charming than the fields are the many attractive
farm houses nestling among the trees, and the large planta-
tion homes, which might almost be called manor houses.
Walls of red brick, set off by tall white pillars two stories high,
gleam for a moment on some fair hilltop and then are hidden

264 THE HUMAN HABITAT

among the trees. Supreme among such houses stands Monti-
cello, the home of Thomas Jefferson, on Its acres of tree-girt
lawn where many feet of the hilltop were cut off in order to
provide level land for a human habitation. The house itself is
a superb example of the way in which a truly great mind inter-
ests itself in every phase of life, and evolves original ideas along
a score of lines. Witness, for example, the clever way in which
the slave quarters that flank the house on either side are hidden
beneath the brow of the hill, so that from the house itself one
scarcely sees more than their roofs. From Monticello one can
look eastward and downward upon the well-tilled Piedmont
lowland, or southwestward to the prosperous little city of
Charlottesville and to its hilltop where Jefferson, through a tele-
scope, watched day by day the rising walls of the University of
Virginia, another beautiful and influential product of his fer-
tile imagination.

Throughout almost its entire history, Albemarle County has
been noteworthy for its prosperity, education, churches and or-
ganizations devoted to culture and progress as well as to mate-
rial prosperity. It has been still more noteworthy for its large
proportion of highminded leaders like the early families of
Lewis and Clark who led the famous expedition that explored
the Columbia River and saved that region to the United States;
or like Monroe who moved to the county to be near Jefferson;
or the Langhorne family which came in later times and gave to
the world that fine exponent of America and of feminism,
Lady Astor.

Southeast of Albemarle County lies Buckingham. The
muddy flood of the Potomac rolls between the two, but there is
a greater separation. Buckingham County has the reputation
of being one of the most backward counties of Virginia, while
Albemarle is highly progressive. Buckingham not only has
scarcely three-quarters as many people now as in 1810, while

AN EXAMPLE OF TRANSPORTATION 265

Albemarle has twice as many, but Buckingham has lost its
leaders in far greater proportion than its common people. For
mile after mile one rides through a scrubby, half-grown forest
of hardwood trees with large patches of abandoned fields
grown up to the useless scrub pine which is too small and light
for either timber or fire wood. On the roads, muddy, horse-
drawn vehicles have not yet been replaced by automobiles.
Not a mile of road in the county is paved; practically none of
the roads are even dragged or scraped to get rid of the ruts cut
deep in the sticky spring mud. Here and there a little shack
stands in a clearing, but one cannot tell whether it belongs to
white people or colored. Once in a while a more pretentious
house is surrounded by broader, more fertile fields, but most
of the houses of this sort are old, some are unoccupied, and
practically all are decaying. In such a county it is not strange
that the hunting and fishing are good. The schools are like-
wise poor and widely scattered. In one district perhaps
eight by fifteen miles in extent there is only one school for
the white children, and that has only one room. Many of the
children cannot possibly get to school much of the year.

The people complain that such conditions are the result of
neglect and unfairness on the part of the state government.
More to the point is the assertion that the local government is
corrupt and wasteful, but even this is mainly a result rather
than a cause of the inefficiency of the people. Nevertheless
the value of the taxable property is so low, and the population
so sparse, that even the most honest officials, unless extraor-
dinary wise, energetic and persuasive, could not build cement
roads and maintain good schools, as is done in Albemarle
County.

Why should there be such a difference between regions so
close together and so similar in many respects? The obvious
answer is that the people are different, but why should the

266 THE HUMAN HABITAT

people thus differ? Is It sheer accident? This is a geograph-
ical problem, and we must inquire whether either county has
any appreciable advantage. So far as general location is con-
cerned there seems little to choose; both counties lie on the
James River in the Piedmont Plateau with their centers about
sixty miles from Richmond in a more or less westerly direction.
In climate they are almost identical. Albemarle does indeed lie
a little higher than its neighbor and is consequently a trifle
more healthful and stimulating, but even an ardent advocate
of climatic influences could scarcely find in this any appreciable
cause of the general disparity.

When it comes to the relief of the land the main advantages
are with Buckingham. That county is distinctly the more
level of the two, easier to cultivate and easier to traverse.
Parts of Albemarle are so rough that when you ask the intelli-
gent people of Charlottesville where the nearest Mountain
Whites are found, they answer: " Only four or five miles away,
over there in the Ragged Mountains. That is the place for
moonshine whiskey. They put it in quart fruit jars and bring
it to the city."

Perhaps the soil of the two counties is different. The pro-
fessor of botany at the University of Virginia says tl^at judging
by the wild vegetation the soil of the poorer county is better
than that of the other; the professor of geology says that judg-
ing by the rock formations it may be the other way around.
Judging by the United States census one would say that there
is little to choose. In 1919 the average value of the crops per
acre amounted to more than $65 in Albemarle and less than
$70 in Buckingham. So from the standpoint of the soil, as
from that of relief, the advantage, if there is any, lies with the
poorer county. The same is true of the mineral resources, for
Buckingham produces good slate and once had some insignif-
icant mines of gold and iron, while Albemarle has no minerals

AN EXAMPLE OF TRANSPORTATION 267

worth exploiting. But none of these differences is enough
to account for the social and economic contrast.

Where then shall we turn for an explanation? The only re-
maining feature of the geographic environment is the routes of
travel which traverse the two counties. Do they show any dif-
ferences capable of explaining the profound differences in the
people? Yes, in two respects, although neither works in quite
the way that one would expect. In pioneer times when the
character of a population is being determined, rivers, river
valleys and mountain passes are extremely important because
they guide the routes of migration. Later they are equally im-
portant because they determine where canals, railways, motor
highways and centers of communication shall be located. In
Virginia the James River has always been the most important
waterway and its valley was for a long time the most vital line
of movement from east to west. This condition gave Bucking-
ham County an advantage at the start, and would lead us to ex-
pect a condition the opposite of that which actually prevails.

The James River forms the northwestern and northern
boundary of Buckingham County for forty miles much more
if all the windings are taken into account. In the middle of
that stretch the southern end of Albemarle County is bordered
by the river for a dozen miles or more. No part of Bucking-
ham is more than twenty-five miles from the river, while three-
fifths is within ten miles. Part of Albemarle, on the contrary,
lies more than thirty miles from the river, while only about a
quarter lies within ten miles. This fraction does not rise to
a half even if we include the short navigable portion of the little
Rivanna River which flows south through Albemarle.

In our day of railroads and automobiles, such conditions
make practically no difference; in early days they made all the
difference in the world. On the ordinary dirt roads of Vir-
ginia, with horses or mules to do the pulling, a haul of a tun-

268 THE HUMAN HABITAT

died miles eats up all the profit on wheat or corn and makes
the ultimate sale an actual loss. So a haul of even sixty miles
from the center of either Buckingham or Albemarle counties to
tide-water at Richmond was a very serious matter. Of course
it was not so bad in the case of tobacco, for that product is light
compared with its value, a fact which helps Buckingham where
much tobacco is grown, but not Albemarle. Nevertheless even
for tobacco growers the cost of transportation over dirt roads
is so serious that as soon as the settlements of Virginia spread
beyond tide-water, that is, west of Richmond, there began to
be agitation for the improvement of the waterways. Washing-
ton was the most earnest and influential advocate of this policy.
He wished not only to benefit Virginia but to connect the At-
lantic Coast with the Great Lakes, the Ohio, the Mississippi,
the Far West, and even the Pacific, by a series of waterways
supplemented by short links of good road. No one then
dreamed of railways or automobiles, and it looked as if water-
ways would always be the best means of communication.

The first step was to overcome the falls and rapid along the
" fall line " where the old Piedmont rocks meet the new rocks
of the Atlantic Coastal Plain. That meant canals and locks
around the falls above Richmond on the James River, above
Washington on the Potomac, and at corresponding points else-
where. The second step was to straighten and deepen the chan-
nel above the fall line until the base of the Appalachians was
reached. Then came the third step in the form of more canals
around the rapids where the streams traverse the Blue Ridge.

The Revolution checked the plans for such development, but
when peace was assured Washington began agitating again.
The whole matter is fully described by Professor W. F. Dun-
away in a useful member of that great series of documents
known as doctors' theses, published in this case by Columbia
University. To cut a long story short, the James River Com-

AN EXAMPLE OF TRANSPORTATION 269

pany, which later became the James River and Kanawha Com-
pany, was organized by private subscription, but with state
aid, to improve the James River. By 1795 a cana l around the
falls above Richmond had been completed, so that boats from
upriver could load and unload at the city; the river as far
upstream as Lynchburg near the foot of the Blue Ridge was
soon cleared of obstructions, and the future looked bright. In-
deed it was bright. For sixty years thereafter the James River
Company, or its successor, was the largest and most influential
corporation in the state; for decades it yielded its stockholders
twelve per cent or more each year. The state took it over, to
be sure, in 1820 because it had difficulty in financing its more
ambitious projects, but that is beyond our problem.

Suppose you had lived in Albemarle or Buckingham counties
in 1795, ^ ow would you have felt? If you were an ordinary
intelligent farmer living within ten miles of the river, you would
have been overjoyed. No more long drives to Richmond; just
a short haul five miles or less for about a third of the Buck-
ingham people put your produce on a regular boat, and
there you are as good as at the market. Thus spoke many of
the Buckingham people and some of those in Albemarle, but
only a few, for nearly nine-tenths of Albemarle still had a
haul of five to thirty miles to navigation.

No wonder the balance swung in favor of Buckingham. In
1790 that county contained nearly ten thousand people com-
pared with twelve and a half in Albemarle; in 1800 Bucking-
ham had increased about thirty-seven per cent and Albemarle
thirty-two per cent. In i'8io Buckingham had forged ahead
to a total of over twenty thousand inhabitants, an increase of
about fifty-four per cent, against only eighteen thousand for
Albemarle. Is it any wonder that many serious geographers,
seeing bright spots of color like this dotted all over the canvas
of geography, have supposed that mere location in respect to

270 THE HUMAN HABITAT

transportation facilities is the central theme of their whole sci-
ence? They forget that exactly the same conditions of rivers,
rapids, soil and the like would by no means produce such re-
sults in the half of the earth's land that are too cold, too dry,
or too warm and wet for agriculture, nor yet in the tropical re-
gions of hoe culture where technical skill has never yet devel-
oped, nor even in the rice lands where the level of productivity
is so low that people can maintain their standards of living
without being obliged to dispose of surplus products to any
large degree. Only where the farmers are so skilled and en-
ergetic that they raise and sell abundant produce do facilities
for long distance transportation assume such importance as in
Virginia. Yet even in the most backward environments trans-
portation is often the dominant factor in producing local dif-
ferences of extraordinary intensity.

The next step in the history of our two counties emphasizes
still further the overwhelming local importance of transporta-
tion, especially in the higher stages of civilization. As long as
the James River Company paid good dividends, its stockholders
did not care to spend their money on either upkeep or improve-
ments. So there was constant complaint that the river was not
kept properly open. Boats sometimes stranded on sandbars
within a few hundred yards of the mouth of the canal, and
there were bad places all along the river. The final result was
that when the state took over the James River Company in
1820, the plan was to build a canal parallel to the river, and
close beside it, all the way to Lynchburg and beyond. Which
side of the river should it go on? Should Albemarle and its
neighbors get it on the north, or Buckingham on the south?

The decision went to the north mainly because the first set-
tlers in Virginia wanted to locate on an island for the sake of
safety, and found such an island on the north side of the James
River. Therefore settlement naturally proceeded fastest on

AN EXAMPLE OF TRANSPORTATION 273

that side, and Richmond happened to be ' so much more abil-
a town was founded at the head of tide-watei -
low the falls. From that time on, the north side of'-frh made
was preferred to the south more than ever. Not only was it ave
advantage commercially to be on the side of the river where the
ships from England, New England and Holland came to port,
but it was still more of an advantage socially and politically.
What a nuisance to be marooned by floods on the south side
of the river just when the great social or political events of
the year were taking place! So the more influential aristo-
crats tended to be concentrated on the north side of the James
River.

When the canal was built around the falls, the north side
again was the natural place for it. Only if there had been some
strong geographical reason would it have been located on the
south. As soon as the longer canal was planned to run parallel
to the river for many scores of miles, the north side was still
the place, for otherwise the canal would have had to cross the
river, thus exposing it to danger from floods. In later times,
when a railroad supplanted the canal, by far the cheapest and
easiest place to build it was along the old tow-path of the canal,
but that falls later than our story.

The final decision to build a canal along the James River on
the north side was the death knell of Buckingham County's
prosperity. Ridiculous, do you say? Well, perhaps, but it is
true. Between 1810 and i82 ( o the population of Buckingham
fell off about twelve per cent, while that of Albemarle increased
about eight per cent. The only assignable causes for such a
contrast appear to be the poor way in which the river naviga-
tion was maintained, the prospect that a canal on the north
would soon make matters worse, and the over-development of
the previous decade which may have led to the use of poor land.

But why should it make such a difference whether the canal

270 THE HUMAN HABITAT

transportation fthe other? The river is only a few hundred
ence? T^uld not bridges or at least ferries be installed?
rapid-, not easily. The James River is subject to severe
jas which make it difficult to build bridges that will stand
permanently. A flood in 1771, which carried off a mill belong-
ing to Thomas Jefferson, was so severe that it led to special ac-
tion by the provincial legislature. Not till 1855 were the
" South Side Connections " finally built by the state-controlled
canal company in the form of three bridges, scores of miles
apart. There are more bridges now, but they still have an un-
pleasant habit of being carried out by the floods. Those same
floods make it hard to maintain ferries, and there never has
been traffic enough to maintain more than a few. Thus the
fact that the canal was on the other side of the river subjected
most of the Buckingham farmers to the extra cost and delay
not only of ferriage but of a considerably longer haul than was
necessary when the river boats would stop anywhere. Why
should people put up with such difficulties when there was
plenty of better land to be had for the taking farther west?
So people began to move away; by 1870 the population of
Buckingham County had declined to thirteen thousand, less
than half of what Albemarle had at the same time.

Was this necessary? Might not the twenty thousand Buck-
ingham people of 1810 have gotten the canal located on their
side of the river? Or failing in that might they not have built
and maintained ferries and bridges so that they would suffer
no serious handicap? These questions bring up the most subtle
of geographical problems the human element. If families
like those of Jefferson, Monroe, Lewis, Clark and Lady Astor
had dwelt in Buckingham instead of Albemarle, would they
not have overcome the relatively slight handicap of having the
canal beyond the river? Very likely, but they lived north of
the river instead of south of it, and the main question that con-

AN EXAMPLE OF TRANSPORTATION 273

fronts us is why the people to the north had so much more abil-
ity than those to the south.

We have already traced the sequence of events which made
the north side of the James River more aristocratic than the
south side, and put the canal on that side of the river. The in-
evitable continuation of that sequence was that when the zone
of settlement moved west the settlers in the Piedmont counties
north of the river tended to surpass those on the south side in
their percentage of men of fine ancestry and innate intelligence.
Jefferson, Monroe, Madison, Randolph and others exemplify
the matter. Albemarle county got its full share of such people,
helped perhaps by its natural beauty and by the fact that it is
traversed by a main line of communication leading from Rich-
mond to the Great Appalachian or Shenandoah Valley by way
of a low gap in the Blue Ridge west of Charlottesville. That
gap helped not only to bring able aristocrats, but to provide the
element most lacking in old Virginia. The great social defect
of colonial Virginia, as has often been pointed out, was its
almost complete lack of a middle class. It had its rich and
aristocratic planters who gave rise to a remarkable galaxy of
very able men including not only those just named, but Wash-
ington, the Lee family and others. It had its manual workers
in the form of slaves, and it also had a considerable number of
poor whites people not competent enough to become large
landowners, but not willing to compete on equal terms with the
Negroes.

In Albemarle County, as in some others, a different situation
prevailed, for there was a middle class. This appears In the
following quotation keen, though none too complimentary
from the letters of Major Thomas Andrews, a British prisoner
who was kept in restraint, but not confinement, at Charlottes-
ville for a year or more during the Revolutionary War: 1

1 Quoted by Edgar Woods in his History of Albemarle County, 1901.

274 THE HUMAN HABITAT

" There are three degrees of rank among the Inhabitants,
exclusive of the negroes. . . . The first class consists of gen-
tlemen of the best families and fortunes, which are more re-
spectable and numerous here than in any other province. For
the most part they have had liberal educations, possess a thor-
ough knowledge of the world, with great ease and freedom in
their manners and conversation. Many of them keep their
carriages, have handsome, services of plate, and without ex-
ception keep their studs, as well as sets of handsome carriage
horses.

" The second class consists of such a strange mixture of char-
acter, and of such various descriptions of occupation, being
nearly half the inhabitants, that it is difficult to ascertain their
exact criterion and leading feature. They are however hospit-
able, generous and friendly; but for want of a proper knowl-
edge of the world, and a good education, as well as from their
continual intercourse with their slaves, over whom they are ac-
customed to tyrannize, with all their good qualities they are
rude, ferocious and haughty, much addicted to gaming and dis-
sipation, particularly horse racing and cock fighting. In short,
they form a most unaccountable combination of qualities, di-
rectly opposite and contradictory, many having them strangely
blended with the best and worst of principles, many possessing
elegant accomplishments and savage brutality; and notwith-
standing all this inconsistency of character, numbers are valu-
able members of the community, and very few deficient in intel-
lectual faculties.

"The third class [the Poor Whites apparently], which in
general composes the greatest part of mankind, are fewer in
Virginia in proportion to the inhabitants, than perhaps in any
other country of the world; yet even those who are rude, il-
liberal and noisy, with a turbulent disposition, are generous,
kind and hospitable. We are induced to imagine there is some-

AN EXAMPLE OF TRANSPORTATION 275

thing peculiar in the climate of Virginia, that should render all
classes of so hospitable a disposition. The lower people possess
that impertinent curiosity so disagreeable to strangers, but in
no degree equal to the inhabitants of New England. They are
averse to labor, much addicted to liquor, and when intoxicated
extremely savage and revengeful Their amusements are the
same with those of the middling sort, with the addition of box-
ing matches."

In Albemarle County the middle class described by their
prisoner and enemy was much more numerous than in most
parts of Virginia east of the Blue Ridge. It consisted largely
of Scotch-Irish who came by way of Pennsylvania, migrated
southwestward down the great Appalachian Valley between the
Blue Ridge on the east and the Front of the Allegheny Plateau
on the west. They were in Albemarle because when they found
the low gap in the Blue Ridge near Charlottesville, they spilled
southward, back toward the seacoast. Some of them held as
much land as the aristocrats who had moved up from Tidewater
Virginia; land holdings of a thousand to twenty thousand acres
were by no means uncommon in either group.

The way in which the Scotch-Irish supplemented and
strengthened the Virginians can best be made clear by repeat-
ing the essence of what John Fiske has said about them in his
Old Virginia and Her Neighbors. Their migration to America
was " an event of scarcely less importance than the exodus of
English Puritans to New England and that of English cavaliers
to Virginia/' During the four decades after 1611 about three
hundred thousand Scotch migrated to the Irish province of
Ulster because James I wanted a Protestant population that
would outnumber the Catholics. The settlers were picked men
and women of the most excellent sort. Although Ulster had
previously been little more than a wilderness of bogs and fens,
they transformed it into a garden, and into a notable center for

276 THE HUMAN HABITAT

the manufacture of woolens and linens. By the beginning of
the eighteenth century they numbered nearly a million, not
peasants, but intelligent yeomanry and artisans. In 1 718 when
a miscellaneous group of 319 men signed a document, no less
than 306 wrote their names in full, a record almost no other
part of the British Empire, perhaps not even New England,
could have rivalled.

The prosperity of the selected Scotch immigrants in Ulster
aroused the jealousy not only of rival manufacturers in Eng-
land, but of the English church which looked askance upon
Presbyterians. About 1700 this resulted in legislation which
seriously damaged the Irish linen and woolen industries and
threw many workmen out of employment. It also led to laws
forbidding the Presbyterians to keep schools, perform marriage
ceremonies, or hold any office higher than that of petty con-
stable, and so on through a long list of silly and outrageous
enactments. For a few years this tyranny was endured, but by
1719 the hope of improvement had worn away. So from that
year, until the passage of the Toleration Act for Ireland in
1782, the people of Ulster kept flocking to America still
another selective migration.

Of all the migrations to America previous to the days of
steamships, this was by far the largest in volume, for it prob-
ably comprised at least half a million people. With their de-
scendants they formed not less than one-sixth of our population
at the time of the Revolution. The majority went to Pennsyl-
vania and many settled in the Allegheny region. Thence they
spread rapidly and in large numbers toward the southwest
along the mountain country through the Shenandoah Valley
and then into Virginia and the Carolinas. When they first
came Into Virginia, about 1730, Governor Gooch was dispens-
ing the frontier lands so freely and indiscriminately that one
Jacob Stover, it Is said, secured many acres by giving his cattle

AN EXAMPLE OP TRANSPORTATION 277

hii'man names as settlers; and a young woman, by dressing in
various masculine disguises, obtained several large farms.

These Scotch, with a slight veneer of Ireland, soon began to
woif'k profound modifications in the life of Old Virginia.
Hit-herto it has been purely English and predominantly Episco-
pal,' Cavalier and aristocratic. There was now a rapid inva-
sion of Scotch Presbyterianism, with small farms, few slaves,
and democratic ideas, made more democratic by life in the
backwoods. In the course of two generations the bloodless but
stut born conflict between these two social groups, so different
in habits and ideas, resulted In the separation of church and
stat 3, complete religious toleration, the abolition of primogeni-
ture and entails, and many other important changes, most of
which were consummated under the leadership of Thomas Jef-
fersi <n between 1776 and 1785.

Albemarle was one of the counties where the fusion of Eng-
lish and Scotch ideals was most complete. The character of so-
ciety there arose from the fact that between the aristocracy
represented by Jefferson and Monroe, and the submissive poor
whites, there was injected a strong, sturdy, self-reliant, religious
middle class with leaders like Andrew Jackson, Daniel Boone,
Anthony Wayne, and the Lewis and Clark whose explora-
tions utimately made it possible for the United States to se-
cure the great states of our northwest. Among these men
Lewis was a citizen of Albemarle county, while the parents
of Clark lived there, but moved away before he was born.

The secret of the contrast between Buckingham and Albe-
marle counties now seems clear. Buckingham has lost in the
race because it is sidetracked south of the James River in a
sort of enclave through which no regular railroad or main
highway yet passes even in our day. Therefore in spite of a
boom early in the nineteenth century, it has suffered an ad-
verse migration which has finally weeded out practically all

278 THE HUMAN HABITAT

the people who are able to lead and to maintain progress. Alb|e-
marie, merely by virtue of lying north of the James River, ajnd
possibly because of its physical beauty, and its position o| i a
main line of traffic to the west, received an unusually g| jod
quota of able Virginia aristocrats. Then, by reason of the fgap
in the Blue Ridge, it received also just the element thaft it
needed in the form of a sturdy middle class of high qual ity,
selected and tempered by successive migrations from Scotland
to Ireland, from Ireland to the New World, and again from
Pennsylvania to Virginia. Because the union of these - two
groups created such wholesome and attractive social condi-
tions, because they founded many churches and schools, an
academy, a university, an agricultural society, a Bible Society
and the like, and also because their county is physically beauti-
ful, it became a place that attracted, and still attracts ether
able people who would never entertain the thought of settling
in Buckingham.

That brings us to the end of our story. In a case like this
the ultimate difference in the fate of two adjacent regions is
out of all proportion to the geographical differences that origi-
nally entailed that fate. The reason is that geographic condi-
tions act not only directly but indirectly. Their direct effect
in the present case was merely to make it a little more expen-
sive to ship tobacco and wheat out of Buckingham County
than out of Albemarle, and to make it easy for people to get
to Albemarle county from the northwest. But those small
differences, combined perhaps with certain other minor geo-
graphic conditions such as the scenery, so loaded the dice that
people of the more able type moved away from Buckingham
County but were attracted to Albemarle. Thus there arose a
concentration of people of relatively low ability in the county
south of the James River and a concentration of highly able
people in the county to the north.

AN EXAMPLE OF TRANSPORTATION 279

Such concentrations are of almost incalculable importance.
They often give rise to slums in the parts of a city where the
land is low and level near the water front, along the river bank,
or around the freight yards. Where the western or northern,
hills are high, but not too high, so that the houses are lifted
above the city and the prevailing northwest winds can blow
without first loading themselves with the dust of factories, the
concentration takes the form of an exclusive residential district
where only a few of the children have intelligence quotients be-
low one hundred. On a larger scale similar concentrations oc-
cur in backward highlands versus progressive lowlands. Berea
College aims above all things to elevate the mountain people
of Kentucky and Tennessee, but it is located on the edge of the
fertile lowland because there it is accessible. That it accom-
plishes much of its purpose cannot be doubted. Yet little by
little it adds to the conditions which it strives to alleviate. Ac-
cording to its carefully compiled records, among its graduates
with bachelor's degrees who have been out of college long
enough to be established in their life work, less than four-fifths
of the men who came from the mountains, and only three-
fifths of the women, have gone back there. Practically none
from other regions go to the mountains permanently. More-
over, even among the mountaineers who go back to the moun-
tains the great majority do not settle in the old regions, but in
the county seats and mining towns. Hundreds of other places
where transportation is difficult are being drained of their most
energetic and able people in this same way, just as has hap-
pened in Buckingham County. In the long ran such occur-
rences and the corresponding concentration of the abler people
in cities where they gradually tend to die out, may prove to be
by far the greatest of all the results of differences in trans-
portation.

Here we must bring this volume to a close, leaving hundreds

280 THE HUMAN HABITAT

of important geographic truths untold. But whether we deal
with climate, soil, relief or any other geographic factor, the
fundamental principles are the same. Aside from the direct
physiological stimulus of climate, geographic conditions are
passive. They do not say that we must do this or that. The
choice lies with ourselves. The physical environment merely
says that if we do certain things we will prosper, increase, and
be able to take new steps of progress. If we do others, diffi-
culty, danger, and even extermination will be our lot. Nature
makes no announcement of her decrees; she simply carries
them out.

INDEX

Aborigines, io6f.

Acadia College, 30

Accessibility, of Far East, 184; im-
portance of, 31

Adventure, as condition of selection,
223

Afghan, caravan man, 108

Africa, 108, 129, abandoned fields, 92 ;
backwardness of, 118; future of,
119, 133$.; habitability of, 25;
health in, 129; hoe culture in, 90;
insect pests, 94; laborers from, 108,
132; millet, 200; transportation in,

9S

Age, in census, 232

Agriculture, Ba-Kalahari, 49; Middle
Atlantic States, 84; Nevada, 84;
New England, 84; origin of, 202;
regions unfit for, 24; selective force,
206; tropical, 9off.

Agricultural people, vs. desert people,
56; hospitality of, 57

Ainus, character of, 108

Alabama, Black Belt of, 24411.; rank
in transportation, 229

Alaska, civilization in, 74

Albemarle County, 263$.

Alleghenies, 244

Alps, rain and population, 114

Amazon Basin, backwardness of, 118;
character of people, 108, 131; food,
89; population of, 112; rice in, no;
soil of, 91, mf.

America, abandoned fields, 92; ani-
mals, 210; children of colonists, 207;
civilizations of, 238; hoe culture,
90; Indian culture, 237; Indian
workers, 108; past and present,
222ff.; tropical labor, 132

American Museum of Natural His-
tory, 191

Amoy, 180

Andrews' Expeditions, 191
Andrews, Major Thomas, 273
Animals, Chinese, 180; and civiliza-
tion, soSff.; geographic distribution,

210

Antelope, 37, 60

Apaches, 45

Appalachians, 244; transportation in,
229

Appenines, rain and population, 114

Arabia, So; remoteness of, 29

Arabs, 53!, 59, 61, 79, outburst of,
151; vs. other nomads, 69

Argentine, immigrants, 233; plains, 13

Aridity, and Mohammedanism, 151;
in VII Century, 149

Aristocracy, and Black Belt, 256; and
soil, 2446.; Virginian, 273; vs. peas-
antry, 252

Arizona, corn in, 239; Apaches, 45;
Indians, 84

Arkansas, transportation in, 229

Armenians, selection among, 186

Art, Japanese, 167

Asia, accessibility of, 184; climatic
changes, 151; climatic energy, 146;
plantations in, 132; rice in, 106;
storms in, 144

Assyria, climatic stimulus in, 162 ; and
rain, 152

Astor, Lady, 264, 272

Atlantic Coastal Plain, 245

Australia, 32, environment of, 35; re-
moteness of, 29; temperament in,
173; and white men, So

Aztecs, civilization of, 238

Baboon, 37

Babylonia, and rain, 152
Bahamas, climate of, 163

281

282

INDEX

Ba-Kalahari, 378.; 48$.; occupations,
49; selection among, 50; water,
Sof.

Baluchistan, So

Bananas, 100; imports of, 125; plan-
tations, 122, 130

Bantam, population, 118

Bantus, 40, 60; migrations of, 49

Barley, animals and, 212; adaptability
of, 201

Barns, in Alabama, 251

Batavia, 124

Bateng, of Java, 95

Bears, 64

Belgium, coal in, 140; migrations,
137; population, 19

Bengal, jute in, 126, 128

Berea College, 279

Berkey, C. P., 191

Big Trees, 152

Birmingham, Alabama, 158, 250:8:.; 259

Birth rate, among agriculturists, 207

Bison, 210

Black Belt, 245!?.; aristocracy, 256;
boll weevil, 259; cotton, 247; farm-
ers, 247; home ownership, 250; il-
literacy, 252; interest rates, 250;
peasants, 252; politics, 253; reasons
for uniqueness, 254:8:. ; size of farms,
249; value of buildings, 251; whites
vs. negroes, 246

Black Earth Region, 13 ; soil of, n

Blue Marl Regions, 245

Blue Ridge, 268

Boers, 36

Boll weevil, social effects, 259

Boone, Daniel, 277

" Boosters," 222

Borderlands, of deserts, 48

Borneo, aborigines, 107; future of,
118, i33ff.; rice in, 106

Boston, emigrants, 223

Brazil, 129; coffee plantations, 124;
hoe culture, 90; imports, 125; tropi-
cal labor, 132

Bread, among Khirghiz, 69

Bridges, over James River, 272

British, in India, 109; trade with,
127

British Columbia, native culture of,

237

British Guiana, Hindus in, 108; hook-
worm in, 99

British Isles, population, 31

Bruckner Cycle, 149

Buckingham County, 263, 264ff.; con-
trast with Albemarle, 277

Buffalo, 60, 181; and agriculture, 240

Burma, abandoned fields, 92 ; habita-
bility, 25; rice civilization, 102

Burros, in Nevada, 85

Bushes, on plantations, 128

Bushmen, 37ff.; Christianity among,
47; clothing, 38; dwellings, 39;
food, 40, 44; ornamentation, 39;
physique, 38; poisons, 41; political
organization, 46 ; powers, 42 ; selec-
tion among, 43$.; utensils, 40; vs.
Eskimos, 63; vs. Onas, 63, 67; vs.
Hottentots, 56

Butter, 60

Buttercups, in Virginia, 263

Calcutta, 124

California, accuracy as to ages, 235;
coal in, 140; environment, 35; in-
come, 229; Indian culture, 239; im-
migrants, 224; professions, 230; re-
moteness, 29; Sequoias, 150; vs.
Nevada, 33

Camel, 210

Canada, coal, 140; soil, nj trade with,
127

Canal, of James River, 269

Canton, frosts in, 190

Caravan, Afghan, 108

Caribao, 94

Caribbean Coast, plantations, i29f.

Caribou, 64

Cassj Presidential candidate, 253

Cattle, 210; Indian, 95, an; Javanese,
211 ; in Nevada, 85; tropical, 94

Cattle-herding, among Ba-Kalahari,
49; among Hottentots, gaff.

Cattle-stealing, 61

Celebes, future of, 118; rice in, 106

Census, accuracy of, 233; of age,
232

INDEX

283

Central Americans, as laborers, 132

Cereals, and human culture, 200;
tropical, 100

Ceylon, plantations in, 129!.; rice, 106;
tea plantations, 12 if.; temperature,
114

Change, value of, 142

Charlottesville, Va., 266, 273

Cheese, 60 ; among Lapps, 68

Chekiang, 178

Chicago, 259

Chicle, imports of, 125

Children, of agricultural people, 207;
of American colonists, 207; in Java,
115; in U. S., 115; white, in deserts,
82

Chile, health in, 174

China, 176; "boosters," 222; charac-
ter of people, 108, 178; climate and
health, 190; coal, 140; contrasts in,
177; contrasted with Japan, 166,
179; energy in, 116; famines, i93ff.;
geography, no; habitability of, 25;
isolation, 183; migrations, 31, 118;
millet, 200; rain, 153; rain and
population, 114; rice civilization,
102; trade, 127; size of people, 115;
social cycles, 261; South vs. North,
180; standards, 116; vs. Japan, 176,
182 ; wild rice, 105

Chinese Turkestan, 176

Chosen, habitability of, 25; rain and
population, 114; standards, 116

Christianity, among Bushmen, 47

Civic Order, and irrigation, 107

Civil War, effect on progress, 236

Civilization, in Alaska, 74; and ani-
mals, 209; coldward march of, 155;
and deserts, 8of.; distribution, 145;
165; and environment, 35; in Eu-
rope, 199, 219; and glass, 156; and
Indian corn, 91; location of, 6;
margins of, 71 ; migration of, 161 ;
and millet, 91; in Nevada, 82; and
population, 20, 29, 32; and rice,
io2fL; types of, 199; varieties in
tropics, 88ff.; and waterways; 209;
of whites in deserts, 82

Civilization and climate, 174

Clark, and Lewis, 264, 272, 277
Climate, Asia vs. California, 151; at-
tractive power of, 163; changes of,
148; Chinese, 177; colors of, $f.;
and corn, 238; European, 225; gen-
eral distribution, 2 ; and health,
189!; importance of, 15; Japanese,
174, 177; North American, 225;
optimum, 94; and population, 23;
and progress, i38ff.; pulsations of,
6; pulsations in China, 191; selec-
tor of mental types, 160; and
slavery, 236; and soil, loff. ; of
Spitzbergen, in; of U. S. vs. Eu-
rope, 225 ; and white man in tropics,
129; and work, 98

Climatic energy, distribution of, 139;
in Europe, 217; and progress, 148;
in U. S., 227

Clothing, of Bushmen, 38; of Onas, 67
Clove plantations, in Zanzibar, 124
Coal, 140; distribution of, 14; in Eu-
rope, 220
Cocoa, imports of, 126; plantations in

San Thome, 124
Coconuts, 125; plantations, 124, 130;

and sea salt, 130

Coffee plantations, 130; Brazilian, 124
Cogon grass, 93

Cold areas, 24; and white men, 74
Coldward march, of civilization, 155
College students, from Black Belt,

257

Colonists, children of American, 207
Colorado, ancient corn culture, 239;

professions in, 230
Colorado River, 239
Colors, and climate, $f. ; of vegetation,

3fi-

Compression, belt of, 216

Conception, in Japan, 174

" Congo Niggers," 257

Coolies, 108

Copra, 125

Corn, and animals, 210; ancient cul-
ture of, 238; and civilization, 200;
in Guatemala, 93; transportation in
Va., 268

Cost, of plantation land, 131

284

INDEX

Costa Rica, hook worm, 99

Cotton, in Black Belt, 247!?.; fluctua-
tions in, 259; imports of, 126; loca-
tion of industry, 158; and slavery,
236

Courage, of Bushmen, 46

Crops, Chinese, 178; in Va., 266; loss
in tropics, 93; number per year,
114

Cuba, food supply, 133; climate of,
146; plantations in, 120, 129; trade,
127

Culture, and environment, 52

Cycles, of social progress, 261

Cyclonic storms, 144; and population,

25
Czechoslovakia, soil of, 26

Daisies, in Va., 263

Dakotas, girls vs. boys in school, 232;
professions in, 230

Danes, in Greenland, 72

Day and night, effect of, 142

Deathrate, Japanese, 174; in manu-
facturing, 174; among men, 189

Democracy, and soil, 244$.

Democratic Party, 253

Denmark, soil of, 26

Density of population, and climate,
23; in rice-lands, 114

Desert people, 46; vs. agricultural
people, 56

Deserts, adaptation to, 38^.; border-
lands, 48; Chinese, 176; and civ-
ilization, 8of . ; flies in, 82 ; of Near
East, 79; soils of, 12

Diet, Japanese, 174; of nomads, 59

Difficulties, of transportation, 95

Distribution of civilization, 145, 165

Divorce, in Nevada, 83

Djokjakarta, population of, in

bonkeys, in Nevada, 85 ; in tropics, 96

boughty, cited, 69

Draught animals, in tropics, 94

Dress, of Eskimos, 63; of Hottentots,
55; of Japanese, 169

Droughts and famines, 195

Dryness, effect of, 141, 190

Dry regions, 24; soil of, 27; and white

men, 79

Dunaway, W. K, 268
Dustiness, harm of, 190
Dutch, policy of, 109; trade, 127
Dwellings, of Bushmen, 39; of hoe

culturists, 90; of Hottentots, 54
Dye wood, imports of, 127

Earth, 22, 24

East Indies, abandoned fields, 92 ; hoe
culture, 90; plantations, 132

Education, in U. S., 230

Egypt, 209; ancient, 207; climate,
162; desert, 19, 79; geography, no;
plagues, 152; rain, 114, 152; rice
civilization, 102, 106; wheat culture,
212

Eland, 37

Elephant, 37

Encampments, of Hottentots, 54

Encyclopedia Britannica, and Ice-
landers, 78

Energy, European climate, 217; Japan
vs. China, 176; and progress, 136;
in rice-lands, 116

England, ancient climate, 155; Bruck-
ner Cycle, 149; coal, 140; early in-
habitants, 187 ; food supply, 133 ; in
XIV Century, 149; vs. Kamcha-
dales, 137; migrations, 137; popula-
tion, 19; social cycles in, 261; tem-
perament of people, 173

Environment, and civilization, 35;
and culture, 52 j and hunting, 70 ;
of Iceland, 78; and moral codes, 61;
and nomadism, 70

Equator, rain-forests, 24; soils of, n

Eric the Red, 72

Eskimos, vs. Bushmen, 63; vs. Onas,
67; migrations of, 65, 72

Europe, accessibility, 184; advantages,
212; civilization, 199, 219; climate,
146, 217, 225; coal, 220; deserts, 80;
effect on East, 185; future food sup-
ply, 133 &; glaciation, 213; habita-
bility, 25; health, 218; people, 213;
recent occupations, 216; sea coast,

INDEX

285

220; soil, ii ; standards, 115;

storms, 143; vs. North America,

226

Euphrates, plains of, 207
Extremes, effect of, 35

Factory workers, and climate, 141

Famines, causing selection, 196; Chi-
nese, iqjff . ; and droughts, 195 ; Re-
lief Commission, 195

Far East, accessibility, 184; habitabil-
ity, 25

Farmers, of Black Belt, 247; limbs of,
59; literacy of foreign-born, 256

Farms, in Alaska, 76; buildings in
Alabama, 251 ; in Nevada, Ssff.; size
in Black Belt, 249; in Virginia, 263

Feet, of nomads, 58

Ferries, on James River, 272

Fertility, disadvantages of, 257; effect
of, 252

Fertilizer, from privies, 113

Fields, abandonment of, 92

Finances, as condition of selection,

22 ,"*

Finland, contrasted with Lapland, 73

First settlers, in Virginia, 270

Fishing, 62; Alaska, 77; basis of prog-
ress, 241; Iceland, 78; Japan, iSS;
Lapps, 68; type of civilization, 199

Flies, in deserts, 82

Floods, Chinese, 193; James River,
272; Mississippi, igsff.

Florida, accuracy as to ages, 235;
immigrants, 224; soil, 26

Fluctuations, of climate, 148

Food, of Bushmen, 40, 44; effect on
Nova Scotia, 30; of Esldmos, 63;
and physique, 59; of Samoyedes,
66; supplies, i2off.; and tempera-
ment, 59; tropical, 89, 99, 114, 125

Forage, in Nevada, 8$; in South
China, 180

Foreigners, inaccuracy among, 234;
literacy of farmers, 256

Forests, and agriculture, 238 ; and soil,
raff,

Formosa, aborigines, io6f . ; Chinese in,

31; geography, no; immigrants,
223; plantations, 129; rice civiliza-
tion, 102, 106

Fourteenth Century, climate of, 149
France, vs. Java, 109; in Indo-China,

109; migrations, 137," soil of, n
Freedmen, of Black Belt, 258
Frosts, in Canton, 190; in tropics, 122
Fruits, tropical vs. temperate, 99
Fuji, 168
Fukien, effect of mountains, 28

Game, among Hottentots, 60; in

Kalahari, 37
Geography, and occupations, 158;

Javanese, 109
Georgia, schools, 231; ancient corn

culture, 239
Germany, ancient climate of, 155; soil,

26

GilFillan, S. C, 155
Giraffes, 37
Glaciation, effect on land, 6 ; effect on

races of Europe, 213
Glass, and civilization, 156
Gnu, 37
Goa, 98
Goat, 210
Gobi, So

Gooch, Gov., 276
Government, of Hottentots, 60; of

Iceland, 77; origin of, 204; patri-
archal, 61 ; of rice-raisers, io7ff.
Grapefruit, 125
Grass, and agriculture, 238, 24of . ; and

Hottentots, 153; in Iceland, 78;

in Philippines, 93 ; soil of lands, 13 ;

in South China, 180; tropical, 93; in

wheat regions, 211
Graves, Chinese, 179
Great Britain, trade with, 127
Great Plains, Indian culture in, 240
Great Wall, of China, 153, 191
Greece, ancient climate, 15$'; climatic

stimulus, 152; rain, 152!
Greenland, civilization, 72ff.; relation

to Norway, 52; remoteness, 29
Greenness, of Japan, 167, 171

286

INDEX

Growing season, length of, 114

Guanaco, 67

Guatemala, corn, 93 ; high civilization,
238; Maya ruins, 151; native cul-
ture, 237; weeds, 93

" Guinea Niggers," 257

Habitability, 24

Haidas, culture of, 237, 240

Hampton Institute, 146

Hands, of nomads, 58

Hares, 60

Harper, Dr. R. M., 245^

Hawaii, Chinese in, 31; health, 129;
immigrants, 223; plantations, 129

Hay, in Nevada, 85

Health, and climate in China, 190;
and climate in Japan, 174, 189;
distribution in U. S., 232; in Eu-
rope, 217; and progress, 136; in
rice-lands, 116; of sea coasts, 129;
and seasons, 143; selective factor,
223; of white men in tropics,
129

Hemp, Philippine, 126

Himalayas, rain and population, 114

Hindus, character of, 108; progress,
136

Hippopotamus, 37, 60

History of Albemarle County, 273

Hoe culture, 9off., 199

Holland, temperament in, 173

Homes, owned in Black Belt, 250

Honesty, of Samoyedes, 67

Hongkong, 124; climate of, 190

Hook worm disease, 99

Horses, 210; in Nevada, 85 ; in tropics,
94, 96

Hospitality, 56!

Hottentots, 59; cattle-raising, 2ff.;
encampments, 54; game among, 60;
government, 60 ; and grass, 53 ; hos-
pitality, 56; indolence, 58; perma-
nence of habits, So; use of milk, 60;
vs. Bushmen, 56; vs. Onas, 67; vs.
other nomads, 69; wars with Ba-
Kalahari, 49

Houses, in Alabama, 251

Human changes, and climatic, 148

Huang, plains of, 207

Hungary, health in, 174

Hunting, in Alaska, 77; of Bushmen,
40; and environment, 70; and hos-
pitality, s6f.; type of civilization,
199

Hurricanes, 144

Iceland, early inhabitants, 187; Ency-
clopedia Britannica, 78; environ-
ment, 78; XIV Century, 149;
deathrate among men, 189; popu-
lation, 19, 31 j progress, 77,* re-
moteness, 29

Ice sheet, effect on migrations, 214

Idaho, children in schools, 231; trans-
portation, 84

Illinois, corn in, 238; education, 232;
manufacturing, 230; soil, in

Illiteracy, in Black Belt, 252; and
land, 256; in U. S., 230

Imports, 127

Inaccessibility, and population, 29

Incas, civilization of, 238

Income, in U. S., 227, 229

Indian corn, effect on civilization, 91
(See Corn)

Indian railway, 98

Indians, 107, Alaskan, 74; in Arizona,
84; culture of, 88, 242; labor of,
132; migrations, 65; in Nevada, 84;
occupations, 76; of pine forests, 64;
progress among, 237

India, 80, 126; British in, 109; cattle,
95; energy in, 116; geography, no;
habitability, 25; hoe culture, 90;
hook worm, 99; millet, 200; popu-
lation, 114; rain, 114; rice, 102,
105!; size of people, 115; tempera-
ment, 173

Indo-China, abandoned fields, 92;
Chinese in, 31; French in, 109; hab-
itability, 25; hoe culture, 90; rice
civilization, 102

Indolence, 58

Indus, plains of, 207

Insect pests, 94

INDEX

287

Insurance companies, health records,

232

Interest rates, in Alabama, 250
Introduction to Sociology, 250
Iowa, corn in, 238; health, 232; pro-
fessions, 230; rank in transporta-
tion, 229; social cycles, 261; vs.
Java, 109, 115
Ireland, Protestants in, 275
Iron industries, location of, 158
Iroquois, native culture of, 237
Irrigation, civic order, 107; lands in
U. S., 12; in Nevada, 85; origin of,
203

Islands, Japan, 185; plantations, 129
Isolation, of China, 183
Israelites, migrations of, 152
Italy, emigrants, 223; geography, no;
growing season, 114; rain and pop-
ulation, 114; rice civilization, 102;
storms, 143; temperament, 173

Jackson, Andrew, 277

Jaguar, 37

Jamaica, food supply, 133; planta-
tions, i29f.; soil, in

James River, 267!, 272

James River Company, 268, 270

James River and Kanawho Co.,
269

Jamestown, early settlers, 186

Janus, Temple of, 154

Japan, character of people, 108; cli-
mate, 146, 177, 189; contrast with
China, 166, 179; early inhabitants,
187; geography, no; growing s^-
son, 114; habitability, 25; health,
174; island, 185; deathrate, 189;
mountains, 28; optimum climate,
146; population, 31, 114; rain, 114;
rice civilization, 102, 106; size of
people, 115; standards, 116; storms,
144; streets of, 169; trade, 127;
transformation, 184; transportation,
169; and U. S., 145; vs. Chinese,
176; 182; volcanoes, 112; women,
170

Java, aborigines, io6i; bateng, 95;

character of people, 108; compared
with Iowa, 115; Chinese in, 31;
energy in, 116; food supply, 133;
geography, 109; habitability, 25;
hook worm, 99; immigrants, 223;
mountains, 28; plantations, i2Qf.;
population, 19, in, 113!; quinine,
124, 132; rain, iisf.; rice, io2f.,
132; size of people, 115; soil, 91,
in; temperature, 114; volcanoes,
112; wildness, 118

Jefferson, Thomas, 263f.; 272:?,, 277

Jerusalem, rainfall, 151

Jews, revolt of, 153

Jute, 126, 128

Kaffirs, migrations, 49

Kalahari, desert, 35$., 48!., 80

Kamchatka, 137

Kansas, droughts, 155

Kentucky, 279; effect of mountains,

28; slave-raising, 257; soil, u
Khirghiz, $3f- 5 177; bread, 69; vs.

other nomads, 69
Klaten, soil and population, 112
Korea, growing season, 114; rice in,

1 06

Krawang, soil and population, 112
Kudu, 37

Labor, on plantations, 131

Labrador, remoteness, 29

Lady Astor, 264, 272

Lake Ngami, 36

Lakes, fluctuations of, 150

Land, and illiteracy, 256; population,
115; relief, 7

Langhorne, family of Va., 264

Lapps, 59; civilization, 73; remote-
ness, 29; and Scandinavia, 68; vs.
other nomads, 69

Laterite, 12, 112

Lebak, population, 118

Leben, 60

Lee, family of Va., 273

Lemons, 125

Leopards, 37

Lewis, and Clark, 264, 272, 277

288

INDEX

Lime Hills, 246

Lime Sinks, 246

Lions, 37

Literature, of Iceland, 77

Llamas, 210

Location, importance of, 31; and

newness, 33 ; of plantations, 130
Loess, 177

London, concentration of ability, 164
Lopnor, salt, 177
Lord Bryce, 77
Louisiana, accuracy as to age, 235;

schoolchildren, 231
Loyalists, in Bahamas, 163
Lumbering, in Alaska, 77
Luzon, health in, 129

Maccabbees, 153

Madagascar, rice in, 106

Madison, Pres., 273

Madzun, 60

Mahogany, imports, 127

Maine, accessibility, 33; accuracy as
to age, 235; high school graduates,
231

Malaria, 98!

Malay, plantations, 124, 129!

Man, limitations, 17; distribution, 19

Manchuria, immigrants, 223

Manchus, 191

Manilla, 126

Manufacturing, and deathrate, 174;
distribution of, 139; Japanese, 172;
location, 158, 230; persons engaged
in, 229; type of civilization, 102,
199

Map of progress, 13 8f.

Mar&ins of civilization, 71

Marriage, and social selection, 44

Martinique, soil of, 01

Maryland, schoolchildren, 23 if.

Massachusetts, coal, 140; cotton in-
dustry, 159; population, 19, 29;
schools, 231

Mauritius, geography, no; planta-
tions, 129

Mayas, .culture, 237!; laborers, 132;
migrations, 151

Meat, consumption, 21; among no-
mads, 59

Mediterranean, 214

Men, deathrate of, 189; indolence, 58

Mental activity, 159; climatic types
of, 160; in tropics, 98!!.

Mesopotamia, 209; ancient, 207; rice,
106; wheat culture, 212

Mexico, 126; civilization, 238; hoe
culture, 90; illiteracy, 230; malaria,
99; native culture, 237; plains, 208;
temperament of people, 173

Middle Atlantic States, agriculture, 84

Migrations, Black Belt, 259!; and Chi-
nese climate, 118, igiff.; of civiliza-
tion, 161 ; Eskimo, 72 ; and famines,
196; French weavers, 137; Israelites,
152; Japanese, 186; Mayas, 151;
Mediterranean belt, 215; method of,
223; and racial character, 186; rein-
deer, 65; rice-raisers, 118; and
temperament, 187

Milk, among Japanese, 172; among
Lapps, 68; among nomads, 59

Millet, type of culture, 200; effect on
civilization, 91 ; relation to animals,
211

Minerals, and world canvas, 14

Mining, in Alaska, 77; Nevada, 83

Minnesota, accuracy as to age, 234;
illiteracy, 230

Missionary work, among Bushmen, 47

Mississippi, 155; Census, 234! ; flood,
i93ff.; health, 232; income, 229;
manufacturing, 230 ; population, 83 ;
professions, 230; schools, 231;
transportation, 229

Mobile, 250, 252

Mohammedanism, relation to aridity,
151

Mojave Indians, 239

Mongolia, 80, 177; character of peo-
ple, 108; Chinese in, 31

Monroe, Pres., 264, 272!, 277

Montana, schools, 232; transporta^
tion, 229

Monticello, 264

Moral codes, 45, 61

INDEX

289

Mormons, education, 232

Morris, F. K., 191

Moses, 152

Mountains, people of, 28, 279; planta-
tions, 130; rice culture, no; II2JBL;
on world canvas, 7

Mountain Whites, 266

Mules, in Nevada, 85 ; in tropics, 96

Musk ox, 64

Natal, Hindus in, 108

National Bureau of Economic Re-
search, 229

Native labor, on plantations, 131

Navigation, Chinese, 179

Near East, desert, 79

Nebraska, health, 232; professions, 230

Negritos, culture of, 88; laborers, 131

Negroes, and climate, 146; distribu-
tion in Alabama, 246; illiterate,
230; inaccuracy among, 234; labor
of, 132; relation to progress, 236;
vs. whites in Ala., 246$.

Nevada, accuracy as to age, 235;
agriculture, 84; civilization, 82; di-
vorce, 83; Indians, 84, 240; irriga-
tion, 85; managers on farms, 86;
population, 19, 83 ; professions, 230 ;
tenants on farms, 86; transporta-
tion, 84, 229; vs. California, 33

New England, accuracy as to age,
235; agriculture, 84; education,
232; farmers, 92; illiteracy, 230;
manufacturing, 230; remoteness,
29; slaves in, 236; transportation,
229; vs. Nova Scotia, 30.

Newfoundland, population, 31

New Guinea, 108; aborigines, 107;
backwardness, 118; food supply,
I33jff.; future of, 118; population,
19; rice, no; soil, 91, in

New Hampshire, accuracy as to age,
235; high school graduates, 231;
soil, 26

New Jersey, schools, 231

New Mexico, ancient corn culture,
239; Apaches, 45; illiteracy, 230;
transportation, 229

Newness, and location, 33

New York, concentration of ability,
163; health, 232; income, 229; na-
tive culture, 237; professions, 230;
transportation, 229

New York State Ventilation Commis-
sion, 98

New Zealand, 32; early inhabitants,
187; population, 31; remoteness, 29

Nigerians, as laborers, 132

Nile, low stage, 152; plains, 207;
population of Valley, 19; rain and
population, 114

Nomads, 54; activity of, 58; charac-
ter of, 192; Chinese, 185; in cold
regions, 67; effect of sparsity of
population, 2 if. ; and environment,
70; limbs of, 58; indolence of, 58;
and meat, 59

North, slaves in, 236

North America, climate, 225; food
supply, I33ff.; habitability? 25;
storms, 143; vs. Europe, 226

North Dakota, manufacturing, 230

Norway, contrasted with Lapland,
73; XIV Century, 149; men's
deathrate, 189; and Greenland, 72

Nova Scotia, vs. New England, 30

Ob, and Samoyedes, 66

Occupations, Alaska, 76; effect of, 62;
geographic controls, 158; Indian,
76; and moral characteristics, 45

Ocean, and plantations, 129

Ohio, transportation, 229

Onas, 67; compared with Bushmen,

63

One-crop farming, 248
Optimism, selective factor, 223
Optimum, climatic, 141; of human

culture, 156; of population, 21; of

whites vs. negroes, 146
Oranges, 125
Oregon, accuracy as to age, 235;

schools, 231
Orientals, exclusion of, 109; minds of,

136
Ornamentation, of Bushmen, 39

INDEX

Ostiaks, 66
Ostrich, 37J eggs, 51
Ownership, of homes in Black Belt,
250

Pacific Coast, climate, 146; educa-
tion, 232; illiteracy, 230; profes-
sions, 230; transportation, 229

Palaces, glass in, 157

Palestine, deserts, 79; rain, 152; wild
wheat, 201

Palms, 1 25

Panama, 98

Pastoral nomadism, 199

Patriarchal government, 61

Peasantry, Black Belt, 252

Pennsylvania, coal, 140; transporta-
tion, 229

Perennials, on plantations, 128

Persia, So

Peru, civilization, 238; Indians vs.
other nomads, 69; plains, 208

Pests, of tropical agriculture, 92

Petroleum, distribution of, 14

Philippines, aborigines, io6f.; charac-
ter of people, 227; grass, 93; hab-
itability, 25; hemp, 126; rice
civilization, 102, 106; plantations,
124, i2 9 f.

Physique, of Bushmen, 38; and food,

59

Piedmont Plateau, 244, 263
Pigmies, culture of, 88; as laborers,

131

Pigs, 210

Pineapples, imports, 125

Pine forest, Indians of, 64

Pioneer type, 224

Plagues, Egyptian, 152

Plains, 13; Chinese, 179; rice culture
in, no

Plantations, i2off.; altitude of, 130;
cost of land in, 131 ; distribution of,
129; food supply, i33ff.; history of,
124$.; location, 130; native labor,
131

Playas, of Kalahari, 36

Plymouth, early settlers, 186

Poisons, among Bushmen, 41

Politics, Black Belt, 2535 among
Bushmen, 46

Population, of Alaska, 74; Bantam,
118; British Isles, 31; Centers of,
102; and civilization, 29; and cy-
clonic storms, 25; and agriculture,
207; density and standards of liv-
ing, 117; distribution, 20; Iceland,
31; and inaccessibility, 29; increase
of, 119; India, 114; Japan, 31, 174;
Java, 109, in; Lebak, 118; Massa-
chusetts, 29; mountains, 28; Ne-
vada, 83; Newfoundland, 31; New
Zealand, 3 iff.; "optimum," 21;
and relief of land, 27; and remote-
ness, 29; rice-lands, 114; and soil,
26; sparsest, 23ff.; Wyoming, 83

Porto Rico, food supply, 133; geog-
raphy, no; health, 129; plantations,
129

Position, importance of, 31

Post Oak region, 245

Potomac, 268

Presbyterians, in Ireland, 276

Pressure areas, 151

Prices, in Nevada, 85

Primary producers, location of, 158

Privies, in Java, 113

Professions, 229f.

Progress, and climatic energy, 148 ; de-
nned, 136; and energy, 137; fish as
basis of, 241; and health, 136;
among Indians, 237; map of, 138;
in U. S., 227, 235; and vegetation,
4

Protestants, in Ireland, 275

Pulsations of climate, 149, 154, 191

Queen Charlotte Islands, culture of,

237, 240
Quinine, Javanese plantations, 124, 132

Rabbits, 60, 65

Racial character, and migrations, iS6
Ragged Mountains, 266
Raids, of Bushmen, 45 ; of Hottentots,
61

INDEX

291

Railways, Japanese, 171; in Nevada,
84

Rain, effect on tropical agriculture,
92; in Java, 113; at Jerusalem,
151; optimum, 141; and population
in India, 114; and tree growth, 150

Rain forests, culture of, 88

Randolph, of Virginia, 273

Raw silk, imports of, 127

Red Cross, iQ4f.

Red Hills, 246

Reindeer, 210; importance to Lapps,
68; migrations of, 65; Siberian,

65

Relief of land, 7 ; and density of popu-
lation, 27; and plantations, 130; in
Va., 266

Remoteness, importance of, 31; and
population, 29

Reno, 83

Revolutionary War, 273

Rhinoceros, 37

Rhode Island, population, 19

Rice, effect on civilization, io2ff. ; im-
ported, 125; Japanese, 174; Java-
nese, 103

Rice lands, animals of, 211; civiliza-
tion, loaff.; cost of, 131; habitabil-
ity, 25; health, 116; population,
114; standards, 115

Rice raisers, as laborers, 132; migra-
tions of, 118

Richmond, 268, 271

Rivanna River, 267

Roberts, John, 21

Rocks, and soil, 9

Rocky Mountain States, transporta-
tion, 229

Rodlov, cited, 66

Rome, and rain, 153!,

Root crops, tropical, 100

Routes, of Virginia counties, 267

Rubber, 125; imported, 126!; planta-
tions, 130!.; Malayan, 124; monop-
oly, 132

Ruins, climatic evidence, 159; in
Guatemala, 151

Rural population, in Java, in

Russia, plains, 13; soil of, n; storms,
144

Sahara, in Ice Age, 214; remoteness
of, 29

Saint Lawrence, remoteness of, 29

Salaries, of teachers, 231

Salt, at Lopnor, 177

Samoyedes, environment, 66; honesty,
67

Sand, of the Kalahari, 36

San Thome, cocoa plantations, 124

Scandinavia, environment, 73; Lapps,
68; soil, ii ; storms, 144

Schools, in Virginia counties, 265;
children in, 231

Scotch broom, in Va., 263

Scotch-Irish, in Va., 275$.

Scotland, soil of, 25

Sea coast, European, 220; health of,
129; Japanese, 188

Sea salt, and cocoanuts, 130

Seal, 64

Seasons, changes, 3 ; contrasts and civ-
ilization, 97; effect of variability,
142

Selection, 223; by agriculture, 206; of
Ba-Kalahari, 50; of Bushmen, 43!! ;
of Eskimos, 64; by famine, 196; by
hospitality, 57; of mental types by
climate, 160; by migration, 186; by
rice culture, 105, 108; tropical, 97,
100

Selma chalk, 245

Semi-tropical regions, 88ff.

Sequoias, of California, 150

Seventh Century, climate of, 149

Shansi, 177

Sheep, 210; in Iceland, 78; in Nevada,
8$

Shensi, 177

Siam, character of people, 108; energy
in, 116; habitabflity, 25; rice civil-
ization, 1 02

Siberia, coal, 140; reindeer, 65;
Samoyedes, 66; soil, u; storms, 144

Sierras, trees of, 15

Singapore. 12 A

292

INDEX

Sinkiang, 176

Sisal, from Yucatan, 126

Six Nations, culture of, 237, 242

Slavery, 236; in Black Belt, 257; Ken-
tucky, 257; South, 253

Snow, and transportation, 96

Social agencies, Japanese, 172

Social progress, cycle of, 261

Social selection, Alabama, 254; condi-
tion of, 223; and marriage, 44

Soil, in Alabama, 244; and aristoc-
racy, 244ff. ; and backwardness,
118; and climate, iof.; and democ-
racy, 244!.; denudation of, no;
dryness of, 27; exhaustion of, 153;
fertility, 252; and forests, ioff.; in
Illinois, in; and population, 26;
and rice culture, in; and rocks, o;
in tropics, 27, 91; in Virginia, 266;
on world canvas, 8

Somaliland, accessibility, 33

South, schools, 231; slavery, 236, 253;
soil, no

South America, aborigines, 107; coo-
lies, 108; food supply, i33ff.; future
of, 119; habitability, 25; health,
129; storms, 144; wood, 127

South Carolina, Census inaccuracy,
234f.; professions, 230; schools,
231

South China, mountains, 28

Southern hemisphere, storms, 144

Southern Pine Belt, 246

Spain, health, 174

Spices, imports, 126; plantations,
13 of.

Spitzbergen, climate, in

Standards of living, in rice-lands, 115;
and density of population, 117

Storehouses, tropical, 93

Storms, ancient, 155; effect, 143;
North America vs. Europe, 226;
variability, 143

Stover, Jacob, 276

Street-cars, Japanese, 171

Streets, Japan, 169; Tokyo, 172

Students, and climate, 141

Sugar, and habitability of lands, 25;

importance, 125; imports, 127;
plantations, 120, 130

Sumatra, aborigines, 107; future of,
118; plantations, I20JF.; rice in, 106

Survival rate, among agricultural peo-
ple, 207

Sweden, coal, 140; contrasted with
Lapland, 73; temperament of peo-
ple, 173

Switzerland, coal, 140

Syria, mountains, 28 ; rain, 152

Tapioca, imports, 125

Taylor, Presidential candidate, 253

Tea, imports, 126; plantations, I2if.,
130

Teachers, salaries, 231

Tegal, population, in

Tehuantepec, 99

Telepathy, 136

Temperament, Chinese, 178; and food,
59 ; Japanese, 173; and migration,
187; in rice-lands, 116

Temperature, optimum, 141

Tenants, on Nevada farms, 86

Tennessee, 246, 249, 279; soil, n

Theft, 6 1

Thompson, James, 68

Tibet, 24; people of, 177

Ticks, 94

Tierra del Fuego, 63, 67

Tigris, plains of, 207

Timidity, of Ba-Kalahari, 49!

Tobacco, Bushmen, 40; slavery, 236;
Virginia, 268

Tod, Commander, 89

Tokyo, garden, 171; streets, 172

Trade Wind Belt, health, 129

Training, and selection, 44

Trans-Caspia, 80

Transportation, difficulties, 95; exam-
ple of, 263; Idaho, 84; Japan, 169;
Nevada, 84; U. S-, 227

Trees, Chinese, 180; culture, 199;
growth and rainfall, 150; planta-
tions, 128

Tropics, i2off.; agriculture, 9 iff.; bo-
tanical products, 128; civilization,

INDEX

293

88ff.; food, SSff,, 114; fruits, 125;
future of, 164; pests, 94; products
of, 125; selection, 97; soil, 27; trade,
127; transportation, piff.; white
men, 129

Tsetse fly, 94

Turkestan, So

Turkey, 210; temperament of people,
66, 173

Turkomen, 53, 59

Typhoons, 144

Ulster County, 276

United States, "boosters," 222; chil-
dren, 115; climate, 225, 235, 146;
coal, 140; deserts, 82; irrigation, 12;
plains, 13; progress, 227, 235; soil,
ii ; standards, 115; sugar imports,
125

Utah, education, 232; Indian culture,
239!; professions, 230; schools,
231!

Utensils, Bushmen, 40; Hottentots, 54

Value, Black Belt buildings, 251
Variability, optimum, 141
Vegetables, tropical, 100
Vegetation, colors, 3^.5 and progress,

4; and soils, ioff.; tropical, 92, 94
Veldt, 36

Venezuela, banana plantations, 122
Vermont, accuracy as to age, 235;

population, 83; soil, 26
Victoria, remoteness of, 29
Virginia, 263^.; Srotch-Xrish, 275$.;

settlement, 270, 273; soil, n
Vision, origin of, 136
Volcanic soil, in
Volcanoes, Japanese, 112; Javanese,

112

Wallace-Dunlop, cited, 157
Warmth, effect on population, 24
Washington, teachers' salaries, 231; vs.

Wyoming, 33
Washington, city, 268

Washington, family, 273; George, 268

Water, Ba- Kalahari, $of.; and civiliza-
tion, 209; on world canvas, 8

Water buffalo, 94, 211

Wayne, Anthony, 277

Weapons, Bushmen, 40; dress, 55

Weather, effect on man, 16; optimum,
141

Weavers, migrations of, 137

Weeds, in Guatemala, 93 ; tropical, 92

West Indies, tropical labor, 132

West Virginia, coal, 140

Wheat, relation to animals and cli-
mate, 21 if.; type of culture, 199,
201; transportation, 268; adaptabil-
ity, 201

Whig Party, in Ala., 253

Whitbeck, R. H., 30

White men, in Australia, 80; dry
regions, 79; cold regions, 74!; trop-
ics, 129; vs. negroes, 246$.

Who's Who, and Black Belt, 257

Wild Rice, 105

Wolf, 66

Women, Alaska, 74; Hottentot, 60;
Iroquois, 242; Japan, 170; Nevada,
83; Onas, 67; whites in deserts, 82

Woods, Rev. Edgar, 273

Work, and climate, 98

World War, effect on Black Belt, 259

Wyoming, coal, 140; population, 83;
schools, 232; vs. Washington, 33

Yaghans, 67

Yale University, graduate school, 30

Yokohama, 169

Yowort, 60

Yucatan, 95; Indians, 132; Mayas,

151; sisal, 126
Yukagirs, 65
Yukon, population, 19

Zanzibar, dove plantations, 124

Zebra, 37, 45

Zionists, 154

Zulus, migrations of, 49

CD

1 36 370